#i am 100% weird about hands™

[qualitystart]

no clever caption. tom murphy's hands. you agree.

[eshithepetty]

Mob Psycho 100?? More like Mob 'why are all these characters just different flavors of autistic holy shit'..... 100!!!!!

Click on image for better resolution. Also an ID below, in case the text is too small to read:

[ID: art of Mob, Tsubomi, Tome, Ritsu and Serizawa from Mob Psycho 100, with a list of autistic symptoms below them. The background is beige and behind each character is a square mismatch of colors unique to them as a background.

Mob:

He is wearing his school uniform and smiling lightly. The background colors are saturated blues, cyans, pinks and reds, which are swirling in a liquid like fashion. Below, text reads:

Polite little autistic boy

flat affect

alexithymia

perpetually confused

attempts to mask, just ends up appearing a different type of ‘weird’ as a result

low empathy, high compassion

really strict moral integrity

didn’t have a special interest for the longest time due to repressing himself

disassociating king :(

comorbid inattentive type ADHD

Tsubomi:

She is wearing her school uniform, staring ahead with a bored, uninterested expression. The colors behind her are dark and sharp browns, violets and reds. Below, text reads:

Girlboss

masking queen

low empathy

can’t read social cues but has mastered the art of scripting and being polite and pretty to escape ostracization

hard time connecting to people

often acts unintentionally rude/blunt

stubborn

actually cares a whole lot about people she really considers friends

Tome:

She is also wearing the uniform, leaning her chin on her hand and flapping the other hand excitedly as she rambles about something. The colors behind her are a bright yellow, green and orange, formed as circles and some sharp edges. Below, text reads:

Weird Girl

stimming galore

loud™

special interest in the occult/aliens

finds herself only connecting to people through that interest

emotional dysregulation

comorbid hyperactive ADHD

barely passing grades

probably spends hours on random wikipedia articles

Ritsu:

He is wearing a yellow hoodie, looking to the side and finger raised in confusion. The colors behind him are green, orange and magenta, and they are swirling in a kind of square vortex around him. Below, text reads:

just a little hater

sounds /neg

has a selective wardrobe of comfy clothes cause textures,,,

has no idea what friends are

special interest in psychic powers

spoons are a comfort item

denied he was autistic for a long time because “wdym, i’m completely normal. Look how well adjusted I am.”

comorbid OCD

Serizawa:

He's wearing his usual suit and smiling, eyes closed with the grin, his hands clasped together at his chest. The colors behind him are cyans, blues, greens and magentas, some lines, some circles. Below, text reads:

gamer .....

self isolation as an (unhealthy) coping mechanism

uses comfort items

emotions also be dysregulating but like,, he’s learning to deal with it

high empathy

missed out on a lot of milestones, but it’s okay, he’s catching up :)

special interest in video games

finds comfort in dark, tight spaces

comorbid social anxiety

End ID.]

[whynotjohnlock]

Hey, would you mind to (maybe if you have time) write some headcanons or a small fic about how the tenth doctor would react if the reader had a panic attack or an anxiety attack? No pressure though, it’s fine if you don’t want to:) thank you in advance and have a great day

*awkwardly walks away, tripping over their own feet*

look at this man. Look at this silly little time lord who wants nothing more than for you to be and happy.

A/N: I have Anxiety around people too anon, no need to walk away. Also, I tryed to just do a reaction, but I may have gone a bit overboard.

Hedcanons:

At first, he's probably oblivious. He's ranting about the slightest differences in coffee on different countries around Earth and Avantiam 5, and the ways they are worse than tea because apparently the time lords invented that too.

When he turns his head toward you during an adventure and he sees you hyperventilating and anxious hands flailing or just any nervous stimms you have he stops and forgets what he was ranting about immediately.

Whenever you're in a panic, he will walk up to you very slowly to show he means you no harm.

Then he man will ask if you're ok to be held. If you've said yes he will give you a nice hug. "Hey, just listen to my heartbeats, ok?"

If not, he understands and regardless of your answer, is most definitely giving his dark oncoming storm eyes to anything or any anyone that made you feel this stressed. "You don't need to do anything other than breath." "Let's get you to the TARDIS."

If it's a person ridiculeing you for any reason, like weirdness, weight, neurodivergence, height, beliefs, or not raseing your eyebrows correctly on a planet that talks only with facial expressions, he is here for you.

Will definitely use his sonic to scan for embarrassing secrets about the person insulting you. "Looks like someone busted their netocrosis pathalovain tube!" (What that means only the doctor knows, but apparently that was enough to make the Alien back off.)

Sonic won't work for whatever reason? He'll just use psychic paper. "How dare you insult the grand leader of the Draconia-Morphious-Nebula! I could have you filed for high treason!"

If all else fails he is not above being all like, "I am a 900+ year old time lord an you will respect my friend or you will never have the ability to disrespect anyone else."

Once you get away from the thing causing you to have a panic attack, and he's stoped whatever everyday universe ending phonominon was happening that day, he's driving the TARDIS to stationary floating in space to ensure that you're alright.

Is a full blown Mother Hen™ and will get you snacks and blankets so you can snuggle up with warmth. "Are you sure you're ok to go to the next adventure already?" "Doctor, we've been here for like three days!" "I know but humans- I don't want to traumatize every companion I have."

The TARDIS is an infinite dimensional spaceship and you have full access to billions of shows or videogames or VR. Literally, all you have to do is be nice, and you have a world of comfort and distractions to get your mind off of any troubles.

If you're alright with it, he's totally down with cuddles to calm any remaining nerves. When you hold each other, he can rest knowing he's not alone and live in a wonderful moment of contentment.

As you fall asleep in his arms or not, he takes a moment to reflect before going back to tinkering on the TARDIS.

You have stood with the doctor facing down Galactic Empires and Gods, and he is never ashamed of you for having panic attacks. He thinks of you, as he does of his previous companions. Humans only have one life of usually no more than 100 years, and yet they are brave, far braver than most time lords who can live millennia with around 12 lives.

He almost feels silly for being afraid of life ending threats just thinking about it. Him, the doctor, afraid.

The Doctor is amazed. He is in awe of you.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

You have asked and I shall comply (as best as I can, anyways)! T'is I, the Boys™ Anon (I humbly accept my new nickname (*´꒳`*)), sliding in from wherever fields of brainrotting that exists in imaginary worlds! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

Omega Caelus with his Beta Mate just having the time of their lives doing whatever Caelus wants to do no matter how strange or how much trouble might actually come from whatever trash cans Caelus is rummaging through or the events he's participating in. (Caelus shall always be a magnet of strange and trouble in my mind.)

While Mate is very, very confused at how things take a left turn for weirdness, they're still very supportive of their omega, even cheering him on if he decided to participate in local fighting festivals of his choice and, if anyone tries to take advantage or ruin his fun in anything they're currently doing (since they let Caelus drag them everywhere he wants to go without a fuss, just vibing with their mate even if they may not completely understand what is happening), they can and will throw hands for him.

(In fact, has thrown hands and kicked the asses of all arrogant Alphas to assert their own form of "Dominance" that does not need Alpha traits, basically screaming without words; "No, this is my Goodest, Goofy Omega, you shall not touch or I wreck your shit and roll you out like a drum into the hospital.")

Was stuck thinking about silly but happy s/o and confused but support s/o and immediately came up with this thought at 1 am.

Thank you The Boys™ Anon! I love these and your silly emoticons!

cw: omegaverse

Omega Caelus' Beta mate is 100% confused but 100% down to do whatever Caelus wants! These two practically do everything together and it's so cute! They'll share things too like favorite foods, clothes, and nesting materials because they adore each other so much.

I imagine them bringing each other little gifts if they're apart for a time. His Beta mate also gains the habit of digging through trash just like he does even when they're apart that everyone they know is also confused on their new habit.

Proud of Caelus' strength and is his personal cheerleader and nurse if he gets into fights around them. They may not scold him for fighting but tend to him carefully and praise their strong Omega. If some Alpha tries to pull some "Omegas are weak" or "Omegas don't belong with Betas" nonsense you bet the two are tag teaming and beating the snot out of them for the slander. Mates who fight together stay together XD

[jeork]

TC Tag Game

As always I’m excessively late to the party, but thanks @renaultphile for the tag!

1. "He would not fucking say that" only they did and it's canon. When/who?

I don’t have a copy of the book at hand right now, but while Laurie is visiting home for the wedding he goes on a walk and recites this weird incest-y song to himself, then contemplates how it always felt relatable to him. I’m not saying he would not fucking say that, because obviously he does and I hear him quite clearly. But I am saying maybe he should not have fucking said that. 

Also Ralph calling Bunny “Boo”. I don’t care how drunk he was, you don’t randomly slip out with a word you wouldn’t otherwise use. It’s part of his vocabulary. This one had me in contemplation for months, like, would he ever call Laurie that? Does this count towards the bad habits and lifestyle choices he wants to abandon while being with Laurie? Whole scene’s just embarrassing af 

2. Did they kiss in the study? Yes/no + why you are 100% correct about this.

I think they probably did, but that it was very chaste. I’m convinced the kiss between Laurie and Andrew is supposed to mirror it almost exactly. The way I see it, Laurie didn’t fully process it and therefore just stood there. From the flashback he got later on while holding onto Ralph’s sleeve while they’re in Ralph's room I think Laurie might’ve grabbed onto Ralph’s arm a little. But other than that I don’t think he did much, which made Ralph decide he wasn’t ready yet.

3. Mandatory question about Ralph's alleged tattoos.

I wasn’t aware this is something people discuss lmao, I’ve only thought about it once myself. Gonna be a party pooper and say he has none, as it's "improper"

4. 53 vs 59 edition: quote a line or paragraph that is better in the edition you like the least.

I feel like me and @renaultphile are the only ‘59 truthers. I think I once even wrote an entire post just on why I like that Mary cut the knee-touch?

Again, don’t have any book copies at hand right now, but I remember one small detail in the ‘53 I really loved. During Alec’s birthday party while he’s blowing out the candles everyone is looking at him, and for a moment there’s this shared feeling of hopefulness. In the ‘53 Laurie feels someone’s eyes on him, but by the time he turns around Ralph has already stopped looking. Something about Ralph glancing at Laurie in this moment, who’s presence represents so much to Ralph, makes me ache. 

5. Which TC character would feel right at home here on tumblr dot com?

I guess the obvious answers would be something like Hazell, Sandy or Bunny, but I feel like Andrew would run the most terrifically angsty aesthetic account. Also young Laurie, he'd probably write bad poetry or something

6. Tag yourself at Alec's birthday party.

The two guys holding hands in dead silence, not because I can relate, but because they really set the scene. Or the petty shit-stirrer who snitches on Ralph having a boyfriend. Or the other petty shit-stirrer who cries "Here comes Bim"

7. Post a TC meme.

I used to run a TC meme account over on Twitter. I’ve planned on reposting all of that stuff on here sometime, in the meantime here’s one: 

8. Easy to talk about who deserved better. Who deserved worse?

Dave. The Mature Wholesome Elder act he’s putting on at the end is pissing me off. Self-serving cu- 

Also, following the heavy implications that Alec had been snuggling it up with Bunny for quite a while, I think he got off pretty scot free 

9. You can break the fourth wall (at any point in the novel) and say a single sentence to our protagonist, Laurie Odell. What do you say?

I really wanted him to stay friends with Reg. I always felt like Madge’s Aunt Vera joke was pretty funny and well intended, albeit improper and terribly timed. It didn’t come off to me as her making fun of him for being gay. More like her trying to awkwardly bond over it, similar to Reg during The Bathroom Talk™. If Laurie hadn’t been so emotionally rattled at that time I feel like he would’ve played it off. It was such bad timing for him. So I wanna scream at him “Chill out, they’re clearly not out to get you!” 

10. What's a question you have about TC? One you haven't found an answer for yet.

I think there still might be a couple minor details, but I can’t remember them right now. The only bigger piece of dialogue that’s still a little intransparent to me is Ralph’s whole speech at the beginning of their post-wedding trip argument. I have my theories about it, but would also enjoy to hear more. 

Considering I’m over a month late and have no clue who did this tag already I’ll open it up to whoever might still wanna do it. 

[castielsprostate]

tell me more about this Ghost That Lives In Your House™️

okay so. all my life, and dont call me crazy for this when there's the rest to call me crazy for, but all my life i have been surrounded by the super natural. like, i remember being a wee little lad, doing wee little lad things and boom there's just a random see through man next to me. or the time when i was 12 and i woke up to my grandpa standing over me and telling me it's going to be okay ✨he died 13 years before my birth✨. or the time when NO ONE was home except me and im in the supply closet and I suddenly hear footsteps INSIDE THE HOUSE. not upstairs or in the halls BUT INSIDE THE HOUSE ON TILED FLOORS. it then started to move the dishes around?!?!????? also the time i was in my room at like, 15 or so, watching porn, and my curtains FLY off the fucking wall😭😭😭 the didn't just drop. THEY FUCKING RIPPED OFF THE WALLS. uhm what else well when i moved out 2ish years ago, into an apartment, there were wet puddles <3 middle of the apartment, not near any sort of plumbing <3 they still appear sometimes by the way. also the time the washing machine got turned on by itself???????? my boyfriend doesn't do laundry, i didn't do laundry.... the ghost did do the laundry. ALSO after my GMiL died, all lamps went haywire in our apartment. they turned on off on off, wouldn't turn on and wouldn't turn off or would immediately turn on again when turned off or immediately turned off again when turned on. im 100% convinced she's in our apartment. but then again i do hoard.. urns with ashes 😭 so maybe it's that. the ghost im talking about tho, she's in the mirrors. she mirror hops. she gives off an AWFUL vibe. a mean vibe. i dont know what it is, it's not a dangerous vibe per se but she seems mad at something. she also keeps ripping things off the walls and opens windows??????? weird.

also i think i accidentally cursed myself in 2014-ish when i was really into wiccan things and decided to do this random spell on the internet and ever since then bad things kept happening to me until i did a cleansing . so. i did one of those online 'am i cursed' quizzes and i scored like an 98/100 and i think the result said something like may god have mercy on you :3

OH ALSO there was this one time i went to visit my grandpa's grave because i was feeling incredibly sad. this was just after my best friend (and only friend) had stabbed me in the back and i went there and i was being Dramatic™ and i swear to fucking god, i would swear under oath, time stopped. i swear time fucking stopped and mist filled the graveyard and i saw my grandpa look at me with sad eyes and lay a hand on my shoulder I SWEAR THIS HAPPENED. and there!!!!! were other ghosts there and they were just, floating around like ghosts. it's so weird. it started raining and the entire image slowly went away and i went home feeling quite happy <3

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

"About the Blogger" Meme by @razielim

Haven't seen one of these in forever; I'm being the change I want to see. (You're encouraged to adapt/remove questions or add new ones to better suit yourself.)

Favorite Pseud: Cosmic is the new hotness but my indecisive ass has had a billion! Alas-poor-yorick! is an old one I'm still fond of because my child self really went and saw Hamlet and thought: "YES! THE SKULL OF THE DEAD JESTER! THAT'S WHO I WANNA BE!"

Time Zone: GMT

Star Sign(s): the one that's a COSMIC RAM! 🐏🌠✨

Favorite Holidays: every holiday is always tinged with just a tad of existential dread, a pang reminding me of the time that's already gone by, that I'm one day closer to death , I guess the ones during Spring and Summer, just because of the weather and that the days are longer

Last Meal: Soup and a piece of bread with olive oil (and olives)

Current Favorite Musician: my dear friend who plays the piano^^ (whom I hope never finds out about this blog and reads this or I'll never hear the end of it). Not sure if current, but I've listened to a lot of it regularly so, shout-out to Jordi Savall and his Hespèrion XXI group *gnaws on their many variations of the spanish Folías*

Last Music Listened To: Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Is In) · Kenny Rogers & The First Edition

Last Movie Watched: Saw X and The Lobster

Last TV Show Watched: The Bear

Last Book/Fic Finished: Can't remember what was the last book so I'm going with: One of only two in existence A Field In England fics on AO3 😳

Last Book/Fic Abandoned: Kafka's The Trial (not abandoned, I just wanted to finish the ones I had started first before continuing because I know this one's gonna hurt for sure)

Currently Reading: Solaris by Stanisław Lem

Books/Shows/Movies/etc. You Want to Get Around To: For Films I have some listed on this ask. For books I got some Strugatskys to get to, some Terry Pratchett, some Kafka, some Horus Heresy, my sister got me Foundation *looks at bookshelf and ignores the dozens of others that have been sitting there for years, waiting for me*

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: Wild boars! Boarzinhos if you will.

Last Eureka, Breakthrough, or Neat Fact/Concept Learned: Have learned nothing and remain a fool.

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: I don't think I've ever been in a Fandom™ per se. It's usually just, sitting in my dark lair and enjoying a thing with a handful of other people. But, if it counts since it's the closest to interacting with Fandom I've had: these past (4?) years on tumblr in general. From the months-long (sometimes years-long) discussions about this or that piece of media and the insightful observations traded, the juicy meta, the joy and privilege of people sending you unfinished pieces of their art and writing through DMs (the trust and intimacy of it all!!!), sending each other memes and posts we think the other might enjoy, the nice messages, etc... all of it really.

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: Am baby and haven't really experienced this yet.

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: I literally can't choose because almost everything I love is some flavour of weird-ass-obscure thing! But uhmmm, *flips through enormous tome of interests* : Here! Rule of Rose ! I was starving for psychological horror games after the Silent Hill series and this is the closest I've ever seen to them while also not being just a rip off/clone of SH, and telling its own beautifully tragic story (the combat is broken and there's other issues but everything else, maaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnn).

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For: I will draw Rumata and Budach's Conversation™ from chapter 8 in full, in comic form, skill to pull it off and do it justice or not, EVEN IF IT KILLS ME!

Tempting Project You're 100% Going to Undertake: It involves sandcastles and the joys of creation... but it needs to *gasp!* actually be written and not just daydreamed about.

Tagging: AAAAAA I DUNNO ANYONE WHO WANTS TO!

[cinna-bunnie]

long personal (?) rant bc im stoned and I Wanna Talk About It because i never get to talk about it !! 😤

i feel better now that i talked about it :3

i wish people who grew up with, or at least encountered, ghosts were a lot more common. i feel like u get so many more interesting questions once you've moved past a simple "do ghosts exist?"

they were a v regular thing from when i was in 4th grade up till i moved out at 18, and even then i still come across stuff sometimes here and there a decade later. i also had a friend who was a medium and my prev landlord was a witch and the world is so interesting!!

like just w ghosts it's crazy to think about how there's this barely perceivable reality that overlays ours but in some places/circumstances u interact with it and it w you, but there's layers 2 it bc ghosts r everywhere all the time but u wouldn't notice it. u just do Sometimes.

and my mom would do readings for ppl and do a questions n answers sorta thing where she'd let something/someone control her arm 2 write the responses n they'd b p specific and were 100% accurate. and my medium friend just straight up could See them and we actually met bc my guardian spirit jumped out at her and Needed 2 tell me something, and we stepped aside n actually had a long personal chat akdjfkak it was a good life changing one tho i was lowkey suicidal n needed to hear it. (i got better after btw and a gal's loving life (❁´◡`❁) i was just in a really rough place 16-18 (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠))

but like! on top of ghosts, there really is a whole guardian spirit system i know nothing about besides the fact that it exists.

and then there's psychics of various kinds that interact w The Universe™ in their own ways. i haven't tried to do the automatic writing thing since i was a teen but i do have my own divination system i made up w a normal deck of cards, I used a pendulum too but my cards r just comfier n faster paced :3 and then there's qi and i remember doing an exercise that's supposed 2 introduce u 2 manipulating it and i remember my hands felt weird n warm afterwards and when i ran them over my arms it felt like static from a balloon n made my hairs react to it 0:

and my witch friend could do distant healing n reiki, but she could do a bunch of other stuff too n had her whole belief system/framework she was working with. she was a rly sweet old gal (⁠✿ ‚‚⌒‿⌒‚‚) very private about her practices though she was kinda ostracized for it growing up so she doesn't actually Talk about it much. i asked her 2 teach me a few times 😹 the distant healing session was fun n she told me when she found me in the astral plane i was like o hey!! and gestured 2 her like i was inviting her into a party and let her right in.

she got a rly interesting visual of me i have written down in detail somewhere from when we talked about it after, and it's just crazy to think about the different ways people interact with *gestures vaguely* like?? we connected in a way i wouldn't have imagined was a thing.

as a space nerd i love thinking about how the universe is So Big and the concept of alternate universes, but then i remember that just being Here on Earth is so interesting!! what is going on w these subtle realities, how r we interacting w them, how do u get to go deeper here. I've been slowly chipping away at it since my years at home trying 2 understand but sm of it has been through observation and interaction and reading, Mostly reading as an adult since i don't get to observe directly as often.

by now i have a p good framework 2 work with for making sense of everything i know so far, but i feel like a huge hole in my research is doing and learning stuff on the witch side of things. Like daoism was a lot easier to dive into and is the closest to how i understand things but i wanna know more about being a witch and being a psychic and i want to be more interactive.

I am forever just wanting 2 learn (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) this has been something of a lifelong journey i pick up at different times in my life. like u can't go from experiencing a childhood like that and be satisfied with leaving it at that, I have so many questions!! my overarching goal has been getting far enough to be able 2 actually Ask a question and figure out how 2 get more info frm the source ykwim.

and then another thing is how under specific circumstances i unintentionally conjure (or attract?) malevolent spirits and it happens like once every five years (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠) i kind of understand what initiates that so i know how to avoid it, but what about the opposite? how do i conjure or attract something benevolent? why is this a thing that i do at all?? what r The Mechanisms behind this.

the tinkerer in me is going mad at knowing all of this is Right There but i don't know how to do much with it 😹 YET anyways 😼 a gal's been busy!! just kinda waiting for life 2 settle down a bit and i think when I've moved into my next place I'll have the capacity/time for it. i wanna learn about witch stuff but it's so hard lol. conversations I've had w them in passing have been crazy but if u try 2 look online without knowing What To Look For there's sm new age garbage ajdjdjak. i don't want some superficial bs i want The Framework babes i wanna go A-Z w it and fully rotate it in my mind and reconcile it w my current understanding. i want to make things less abstract!!

[commanderfloppy]

HI FOR THE SHIP ASK id like to know!!

pre relationship 2 and 7 for laurence and faren >:)

love 2, 8 and 9 for tori and tybalt

Oooo you are treating me with so many OwO

2. What was their first impression of each other?

While they definitely met here and there in passing as little kids (noble family connections things), I think their first real interactions would’ve been around the ages of 10-12 when Laurence was forced to go to a big party right after his mother and brother disappeared. 

Faren’s impression was ‘Oh NO! I see a beautiful girl who’s all alone at this party and looks incredibly forlorn! I Must remedy that!!”

And Laurence's was: ‘Why is this guy talking to me? He’s trying so hard he’s weird.. He is the only one not gossiping about my mother though…that’s nice.”

Bonus! Faren’s first impression of Laurence’s alter-ego ‘Marquess Papillion’: “Who is this dashing magician? How DARE he take all the attention of Fair Maidens and lads who I am trying to woo!”

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

I feel like Faren’s life would be pretty unchanged, though I do think meeting Laurence later (while he’s doing all that humanitarian work with the group™(I need to give their asses a name)) maybe increased his desire to help others and do similar things. 

Laurence’s life might’ve been a little, maybe not changed but delayed? I feel like his interactions with Faren helped him feel more reassured in himself and determined to not be some pawn to his father. Without those interactions he probably wouldn’t have gone against his father/gotten disowned as soon, who knows maybe it would’ve been delayed until evidence was found about his father later (by Tori and Logan) and he only would’ve gone against him when it was clear he had help (as a witness or assisting in finding information). 

Also I have a feeling that his deeper and ‘romantic’ interactions with Faren as both a girl and a guy really did solidify his realization of ‘oh I am definitely not a girl.’

Putting the tori and tyb ones under the cut bc this stuff got long

2. What are their primary love languages?

Tori is an acts of service kind of person, you do stuff for them you care about him, he really feels it. And when he loves you he will also show that by doing things for you (both big and small).

Tybalt is probably words of affirmation, at least a bit. I mean look at this poor man his self-esteem is in shambles, he is definitely not used to getting compliments or being reassured in himself at all. (I mean he literally has that one line ‘And because I'm not used to it’ (in relation to flattery)

8. Who’s better at comforting the other?

I think they’re both pretty good at comforting each other, but Tybalt does probably win this one. 

Especially back when Tori was still getting used to the whole uhh..missing limbs thing. Whenever Tori would have sleepless nights, getting aches and phantom limb pains, he would always curl her up in a big fuzzy embrace which always made her feel better. (even before they got together)

9. Who’s more protective?

Tori, 100%.  

I mean you have to be in order to fling yourself head first into danger to save someone. Tori very much always has Tybalts back, and he has hers too but there is a place where they really differ. 

When someone is mean to Tori they’re usually just like ‘haha yeah,’ Tybalt gets upset but he’s more focused on trying to keep any conflict from happening (Because if Tori can’t get past it with being a silly little guy he will get mean and maybe violent back). 

When someone is mean to Tybalt, Tori is ready to throw hands. Tybalt will try to stop them, be like ‘It’s ok I’m used to it’ but that just makes them more angry. HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TO MY MAN, SO WHAT IF HE DOESN’T MEET YOUR STUPID STANDARDS! SHUT THE FUCK UP! 

It also doesn't help that Tybalt tends to get a bit of flack from multiple angles and their relationship also adds to the fire. (Racist)Humans will be uncomfortable with him being a charr, a lot of charr will be mad at him for being a ‘gladium’ or ‘soft’. When Tori and him are together it gets a lot of bad looks. It’s not that bad when they’re places like Lion’s Arch, where the city is very diverse, but when they’re places like Divinity’s Reach, the Citadel, or gods forbid Ebonhawke, it can get pretty rough. 

Anyways this got very long but to sum it up, Tori will destroy anyone who is mean to his special little man.

[qualitystart]

and there's a deep drive . . .

[rogue-durin-16]

MATCHUP FOR:

@luna-says-stuff

I wanted to send in a Stranger Things request, if that is okay with you. I’ll try to make this short enough, but let’s see where we end. My pronouns are she/her, I am bisexual, and 18+. My most defying traits are probably that I am a cat person, I am obsessed with learning new stuff about things I’ll never use (mythology, true crime, paranormal etc.), and I consider myself a huge nerd. I love walking through bookstores, I collect doctor Martens, lp’s, band shirts, fantasy books, and my closet only exists out of Happy Socks and Christmas socks. This is no joke. You literally cannot find a pair of black socks, even if you dusted off the abandoned corners. Big fan of holidays. There is no such thing as a subtle Christmas, or a subtle Halloween. We have to go all out for that one, boss.

I can be rather impatient, immature, and I tend to procrastinate and run away from responsibilities for as long as I can. I can’t sit quietly to save my life, so I always need to busy my hands. I draw, I paint, I sculpt, I do embroidery, but most of all; I consider myself a writer. I love writing as much as I love to read. I can rant about the things I love for hours, and will not know how to stop (ask me about Tolkien’s works, I dare you). I also cannot stand people chewing. I lose my mind when it’s something crunchy. I absolutely hate it and I can’t explain why.

A toxic trait is that I saw Queen live and I will never let anyone forget. I love going to concerts, and I thankfully have a music taste which allows me to go to concerts often. (Hardrock, classic rock, heavy metal, and - occasionally - death metal, but a very specific corner. Still no fan of the screaming)

From Stranger Things I Ship You With:

Robin Buckley

Ship Dynamic:

The Chaotic Duo™

Quote:

«Meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favorite.»

I can and will elaborate but also you two just go inexplicably well together, everyone shut up.

First things first, while you give an outcast vibe, it's not punk outcast like Eddie, it's more of a "I'm kinda weird and unfit for society's standards for 'cool' so I don't exist for popular kids", which inevitably makes you gravitate towards Robin.

Only that the 'hey we got interests in common, we should bond to survive' turns into 'you're like my favorite person now'.

I kinda see you two being pretty much aloof towards each other at first because meh, forced proximity by standing in the same corner socially speaking but is a true bond worth the effort?

YES IT IS.

While you two got the same general vibe (and by that I mean would definitely befriend you both), you're not even close to being the same.

Robin 100% pulls a face when you tell her about your music taste. You make it your mission to get her to at least try every hard rock subgenre.

She obviously can't say no to you, so as a revenge, she makes you listen to every song of artists like The Bangles and Stevie Nicks.

It becomes a tradition to go and meet up under the bleachers to listen to each other's music tapes during lunch break. I'm not talking about sitting quietly and listening, I'm talking about turning on the dramatic antics and making a full ass spoken essay about what you think of the songs.

You two might or might not enjoy whatever the other brings in the mixtape, but nonetheless you'll tease the hell out of each other.

Enriching each other's music taste as lifestyle.

First time you kiss you're both listening to music and it's very romantic but also very awkward because ✨it's the eighties✨ and you're ✨two girls kissing under the bleachers✨.

Mind you, I don't think either of you would have come out to the other, so it just sort of happens and then it's panic time. You're good tho.

You two don't start dating straight away, Robin wants to go down the old-fashioned, romantic way and take you on a thousand thoughtful dates to make you swoon. Devoted simp queen.

You sketched Robin in class once and she didn't even know how to function after that. Now you draw her a lot when she's not looking because the way this lanky lesbian goes (⁠⊙⁠_⁠◎⁠) is priceless.

Bookstore dates with a lot of bickering because you go for our fantasy Lord and linguistics King J. R. R. Tolkien and she goes for fucking Anthony Olcott????

You two make fun of each other's taste CONSTANTLY but ultimately end up giving it a try and actually enjoying it.

Two energy cannonballs. In this house we don't do control, we only do chaos. You're a menace when you're outside. Be gay do crime etc.

Steve is like, Robin's #1 hypeman in this relationship. He actually pushes her to ask you to be her girlfriend.

Robin buys you weird socks. Once she made fun of your Christmas socks collection and then bought you a pair with that vibe. And then another. And another. And—

This woman hangs anything you create from the wall. Painting? Hung. Rough sketch? Hung. A piece of fabric you randomly embroidered? Hung.

She loves to read whatever you write and actively encourages you to publish it somewhere.

She writes too. Mostly poems. She won't EVER tell you tho because omg so embarrassing going full on Sappho for you.

You probably find the poems at some point because she's a messy queen and you constantly snoop around at her place.

Listening to true crime stories and going to the library to dig into a very specific topic randomly is something you two do constantly and it's just as endearing as it is worrying, because no one —and I mean NO ONE— who's mentally okay runs to the library on a weekend to investigate about sighted UFOs in the last five years just because.

Robin keeping your immaturity and procrastination in check with an iron fist, and you doing the same for her.

Matching costumes for the win.

Robin isn't super big on holidays but she goes out of the way for you.

You say you saw Queen live, I say the two of you saw it and will NEVER let ANYONE forget about it. So sexy of you.

You're that odd couple everyone ships.

[phdmama]

hello! 18, 20, and 35 from the 'weird questions for writers' ask game, please

Ooo thank you so much, frond!!! xox

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Okay, so this is a moment fairly late in the fic I just posted, The Privilege of Being Yours (Drarry, ~21K, E).

Draco slicks himself up, and as he pushes in, Harry reaches out to the Forest, to Draco, to the sky and the earth and the light and the dark that surrounds him. You protected me, Harry whispers to the dirt beneath him. You saved me, he says as Draco moves within him, not sure if he means Draco or the Forest. Not sure it matters. Let me heal you, he offers as Draco’s hand wraps around his achingly hard cock and starts to stroke him. Yes, he says to Draco through their Bond and he feels Draco shudder, feels Draco’s mouth, hot and open as it presses to his spine.

Thank you, he gasps as he starts to come, his orgasm rolling through his body like an earthquake. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

This is pretty much straight from my brain to the page, with very little editing. I know it's run-on sentences, but I feel like it captures this really powerful and overwhelming moment - they're doing this ritual, they're desperate to make it work. I wanted Harry's process to convey how deeply present he is in this moment, so entwined with Draco and the Forest, and how much this matters to him, how important it is to him. To me, at least, it felt like a powerful and healing moment for him.

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

Oh, eternal happiness with my one true love, 100% (not that I believe in either of those things ha ha, but like, if I were given that offer!). Maybe it's that I've been writing a long time now (6.5 yrs for Larry, almost 6 yrs for Drarry), but I don't know that I have any one darlingest WiP (because I have So. Many. WiPs.) and I've had a fair amount of practice with making peace with the fact that I can publish things and be okay with them not being perfect and ever truly finished! Writing is a really important part of my life, but it's also a place where I allow myself to be messy and imperfect. But the love in my life with my family, my partner, my kitties - that's the foundation of every single thing.

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

I think a thing I do fairly consistently, which is technically not correct but is VERY much a deliberate stylistic choice about voice is something like this:

Potter is off-duty for the entire weekend and talks happily about spending time with his godson, mentions a cut-throat pick-up Quidditch match that he’d been roped into earlier this afternoon, expounds on the renovation he’s designing for the kitchen of his townhouse.

This is from an upcoming fic that was originally for Wireless but for Reasons™ could not be included, so I'll be publishing it on my own. This is a construction I use all the time (given how often I reject Grammarly's suggestions) - which is they always want me to put an "and" after that last comma and I just. Don't want to. So I don't. I don't do it 100% but I definitely do it a lot. More than one beta has tried to get me to change it and I just won't because I personally like it! I don't think I'm that odd that as a writer, in I am very very picky about my word choices and sentence constructions and I do a LARGE amount of line/sentence-level editing to make sure I've got things as I want them.

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

228 of 223

What do you look like right now?

I have a red hoodie with A Really Cool Print™ and Grey cargo trousers that are cool as well. Just my hair is messy as usual.

When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends?

Just before he left to work.

Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

Warm. I hate cold weather.

Where did you get the underwear you are wearing right now?

H&M.

Where did you sleep last night?

In my bed lol.

Do you secretly like anyone?

Yeah, I kinda have a tiny bit of feelings for a guy named Maxim, here I said it. But other than that, I’m open about who I like.

Who was the last person to make you laugh?

My husband.

Anything annoying you right now?

Not really.

Is there any emotion you’re trying to avoid right now?

No, not really.

Have you done anything embarrassing lately?

My whole life is embarrassing incidents XD

Are you excited for winter?

Not at all. I hate winter with passion.

Do you like/love someone?

I feel like I answered this already.

Do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

No, I love him. By the way, it’s weird to think “boy” about a dude aho is almost 51 years old XD

Do you miss anyone?

Yes, my parents and my sister.

Have you held hands with anyone in the past 48 hours?

No. Even me and my husband don’t hold hands, we don’t like it.

What are your plans for this weekend?

We’ll see what life brings. Probably groceries.

Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yeah, when I was younger.

Have you ever been on a horse?

No, I haven’t.

If you could teleport, where would you go?

To my parents.

What is your favorite dish at a Chinese restaurant?

All these little thingies that are starters.

What is your favorite fruit?

Strawberry.

Were you a 80’s or a 90’s child?

I was born in 1990, so 90s, definitely.

Do you enjoy listening to techno music?

Yeah, but I like EBM much more.

What time do you usually fall asleep?

Around 23:00.

When was the last time you went to the mall?

I think I was in Kortrijk last time, about two weeks ago?

Does a mango smoothie sound good to you now?

Ew no. The taste of mango is awful to me.

How many of the harry potter books have you read?

None.

Don’t you just hate commercials?

Doesn’t everyone? I love the Whiskas commercials, though.

How many of your friends play world of warcraft?

None I know of.

Who else in your house is awake right now?

I’m alone if we don’t count cats, but they’re both sleeping.

Are caterpillars more cute or disgusting?

Disgusting.

Would you rather receive roses or sunflowers?

No.

Are you going to take more surveys?

Not right now as I’m going out, but maybe at the evening.

Is your dad bald?

No, he’s not. He’s not even fully grey. You wouldn’t believe he’s 70.

Does your job involve working with people or operating a cash register?

Working with people, yes. Operating the cash register, no.

Who is the most boring, or dullest person that you know of?

That fkn moron who was harassing me over messages on Instagram. What a boring idiot. I can’t believe anyone actually likes him. From what I saw, nobody actually does.

Is your local weather a bit on the bi-polar side, or is it fairly predictable?

It’s both at the same time. Man, this is Belgium.

How long was your last phone conversation you had?

57 seconds. With my husband, we always get to the point.

What smiley face do you use most?

XD

Does crying actually make you feel better?

I don’t cry, so no idea.

Are you happy?

Yes, I am. Not 100%, though.

What’s the last thing you drank?

I think Vanilla Coke.

Do you think someone has feelings for you?

My husband loves me, that’s for sure.

How long do you have until your birthday?

Two months and something.

Do you know anyone who has been arrested?

Yeah, my Dutch asshole neighbour.

Who is the closest person in your life, emotionally speaking?

My husband, my dad, my sister. No particular order.

Do you remember the name of the first bar you ever went to?

Nah. Probably one of these beach bars.

Were you of age?

You’re always of age in my country. Not gonna go into details.

[violaceum-vitellina-viridis]

I posted 1,757 times in 2022

That's 1,750 more posts than 2021!

39 posts created (2%)

1,718 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ruffboijuliaburnsides

@childoffantasy

@itscharliebabey

@vaspider

@storm-and-starlight

I tagged 1,756 of my posts in 2022

#humor - 343 posts

#about me - 322 posts

#the witcher - 136 posts

#adhd and autism - 123 posts

#queer shit - 113 posts

#quotes - 100 posts

#fandom - 90 posts

#art - 74 posts

#music - 62 posts

#writing - 53 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#not me just realizing the other day that my imposter syndrome is usually not 'what if people realize i'm not a real [artist/writer/whatever

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Oh "I'm so old mimimimi" my first music player was a Walkman I had a treasured copy of Michael Jackson's "Bad" on cassette how was your FIRST an mp3 player you tiny person. XD sorry I'm just like. THAT makes me feel old. I always forget how young you are XD XD XD bless.

LOOK i am well aware i am Baby™ but AT LEAST I KNOW WHAT A WALKMAN/PORTABLE CD PLAYER IS

i also do in fact know how to work cassette tape stuff. it would take me a minute to like, remember all of that if handed a player/cassettes because it's not ingrained like CD and later stuff is BUT. i do know.

ALSOOOOO i was going off the first thing that was Just Mine when i was a kid 😂😂😂 first portable music anything at all was the portable CD player w/headphones.

15 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

#4

Saint Clementine Chasseur, Patron of Lost Faith and Impossible Decisions

rewatched season one and Clementine definitely deserved better, despite the atrocities. anyway this concept wouldn’t leave me alone. on deviantart as well

15 notes - Posted March 16, 2022

#3

merry timezone, i have finally watched The Old Guard

i am about to rewatch it, about twenty minutes after having finished it

i am not okay and i will not be normal about this

good day

19 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

#2

inspired by this comic, i experienced an extreme desire to see lambert in a tassel jacket and a “baby slut” t-shirt good thing i can technically draw and refuse to use this skill for reasonable things, instead i make bastard art with my bastard hands and make that everyone else’s problem

50 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i keep seeing posts about how people are nervous to accidentally like an old post/video/whatever, and how “annoying” spam likes/reblogs are or whatever and just

neurotypicals: here are all the weird, complicated, nonsensical rules for interacting with other people. if you mess them up you’re weird and wrong and people will hate you social media: i am a totally new way to interact with people!!! brand new, no need to follow entirely arbitrary social norms about it as this is so innovative that they don’t apply! neurotypicals: i am going to make weird nonsensical rules about this too (:

476 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[atlaese]

Black holes

Summary: you've both got a dark history, no way something could ever happen, right? Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Words: 13K lmao i went OFF TW: talking about mental health, anxiety, depression, talking about violence, probably some death, food, cursing, angst, eventual fluff, tfatws spoilers, bad writing™ from yours truly, yes that should be it? A/N: this absolute beast has been a long long time in the making, and im very proud of this baby <3 like i put my heart on a silver platter and i offer it to you 🫀. i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it. This was written mostly to take a break from studying for finals, so do excuse any typos or weird thingys. the first part is based on an actual conversation I had with my therapist about why I’m so single™ i love feedback :)))) (so let's hear those thoughts! 💞) i'm actually so scared to post this lmao let's hope it doesn't flop

Song I listened to and got some lines out: Black Hole by Griff

MARVEL MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

Week 1

“I trust people,” the words slowly left his mouth, not convincing dr. Raynor at all. It didn’t convince himself fully either, to be honest.

“Okay, give me your phone,” Dr Raynor bent over, holding out her palm, a stern look on her face.

“You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing. Oh, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships, I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad,” she scoffed as she flipped the phone closed and threw it back over to Bucky. “You’re alone. You’re a 100 years old. You have no history, no family-“

“Are you lashing out at me doc? Cause that’s really unprofessional you know,” Bucky grunted, “I mean when did that start, when you started yelling at your clients?”

Dr. Raynor smacked the notepad on her thigh, aggressively scribbling stuff down.

“Oh, the notebook. That’s great.”

“Alright, give me a break, I’m trying okay? This is new for me,” he sighed after a second, “I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know.

“I had a little… calm in Wakanda, and other than that I went from one flight to another for 90 years.”

“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?”

What did he want? A normal life? No one that looked at him weird when they saw his arm? Not feeling like a killing machine that could let loose any second?

He eye twitched as he mulled over his thoughts, the next words tasting bitter, “peace.”

“That is utter bullshit!” she scoffed, not believing one word he had said this whole session.

“You’re a terrible shrink,” he offered, his lips twisted into a frown.

“I was an excellent soldier. I saw a lot of dead bodies and I know how that can shut you down,” dr. Raynor recalled, “and if you were alone, that is the quietest most personal hell, and James, it is very hard to escape.

“Look I know that you’ve been through a lot, but you got your mind back, you are being pardoned, I mean these are good things.

“You’re free,” she added after a moment, trying to get a reaction out of him.

“To do what?” His voice was monotone and steely. He was free, but if this is what freedom felt like, he’d rather be back alone in Wakanda.

“You need friends, James. You need other people in your life to be happy and to have that so called peace you wish for,” she started, trying to get eye contact but failing as Bucky kept looking behind her.

Bucky just shrugged and looked down at his hands again, refusing to say anything. Deep down he realized she was right, but she had no idea what he had been through for the last 90 years. She didn’t realize how hard it was to trust people other people again, as well as trusting that his goddamn mind wouldn’t get reset again and turn him back into him.

“I’ll work on it,” he grimly said, just to get her off his back.

Dr. Raynor glanced at her watch, “we have 15 minutes left, anything else you want to get off your chest?”

* * *

A few rooms over, you were also in a session with your therapist. The anxiety that used to take over your entire life, eventually caused you to look for a therapist. It had gotten better a little bit already, however your therapist also wanted to address some other stuff she noticed in you during the intense sessions.

“y/n, you keep mentioning, and I quote, ‘my ass is so single, I have to grab it myself’,” a sigh left her mouth, looking through the notes she jotted down over all the previous sessions. “but I don’t ever recall you doing something about that, right?”

“Well, no, not exactly no. I can only complain about it,” you slumped a little further into the couch, eyes focussed on the creases that lined your palms. Eye contact with dr. Russo was way too intense for your liking sometimes. She never blinked, almost trying to hypnotize you and it scared you a little.

“Instead of complaining, you could either go on dating apps or go on dates, or you know, stay alone but stop complaining?” she offered, a sly smirk on her face as your eyes snapped up towards hers, finally looking at her straight for the first time this session.

“Yeah, well I tried online dating. It sucks. I match with someone and they never reach out. And real life dating sucks as well. No one has ever asked me on a date.”

Dr. Russo scribbled something in her notepad again, making you sigh and look around her office. The taxidermy butterflies on the wall behind her creeped you out a little. What kinda shrink was she if she had dead animals propped up as decoration?

“So it never occurred to you that you could send the first message? Or ask someone out?”

Glancing up towards the ceiling, you blew out your cheeks, “well, if you say it like that, it’s easy!”

“Wow, I never thought about that before, thanks doc!” you exclaimed, now looking down at your phone to check the time, “Oh no, it’s been an hour already. Well, I guess we’re out of time, see you next week!”

You quickly stood up to leave the room and dr. Russo cleared her throat, “at least make some friends y/n! You can’t stay alone forever!”

The hallway was empty as you stepped away from dr. Russo’s office, the very last one in the long hallway. Just before you reached the door to the lobby, the door next to you opened and a man fully dressed in black stumbled out, a pissed off look set on his face. His body collided with yours and you almost lost your balance.

“Watch out, asswipe!” you shrieked, speeding off without actually checking on the guy.

“Jesus, good day to you too,” he called out behind you.

Just as you reached the door handle, you turned around slightly and gave him the finger. Whatever this guy thought he was, he was the one who didn’t look both ways before stepping out the door.

Bucky’s mouth fell open as he watched the woman give him the finger and then slam the door in his face. Whatever her therapist had said to her must have really ruined her day.

Bucky left the building, opting to go for a walk instead straight home. He couldn’t bear the look on Yori’s face when he talked about his dead son after today’s session. Maybe he should swing by next week, they could go to Izzy’s again for sushi.

Week 2

“Dude, its trash! What does it matter?” your voice pitched a little higher, upset that your neighbour, mr. Nakajima, wouldn’t let you use his trash can for the much needed take out you had ordered after your therapy session.

“y/n, you’ve got your own. Why are you so lazy? This generation,” he shook his head as he turned around to pull out the bag.

“Here, use your own!” he pushed the trash bag in your arms and you stumbled back a little, not expecting mr. Nakajima to actually pull out your trash from the smelly trash can.

“Come on, man. I don’t have any trash bags and I can barely afford rent,” you gave a bitter laugh, “we’re already stuck in this shithole, we should stick together Yori!”

Mr. Nakajima pressed a finger against your shoulder, “it’s mr. Nakajima, and you don’t even answer the door when I knock! That makes it very hard to be neighbourly!”

Before you could respond, a buff guy stepped in between you and mr. Nakajima, a pointed look on his face as he calmed down the older man.

“Hey! We were talking!” you gesticulated, waving a finger between you and Yori. Whoever this guy was, butting in to a conversation was rude - even when said conversation was more like an argument.

The guy turned towards you now, “sorry, ’m Bucky,” he mumbled, checking your face two times because you seemed very familiar, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yori’s just a bit stressed from being cooped up all day.”

“Well, Yori,” you emphasized his name, a bit pissed that he could address the older man by his first name, “should go out more then.”

Mr. Nakajima luckily was held back by Bucky, because you were sure the old man would pounce on you, the look on his face telling all.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Bucky implored, keeping his hand on Yori’s shoulder. Were you a relative of someone on his list of amends or something?

“I live in the building, apartment next to him,” you nodded towards Yori, “I’m y/n.”

“Ah, okay, well Yori and I were just on our way to Izzy’s right? It’s Wednesday, let’s enjoy some sushi, yeah?”

Bucky lightly pushed Yori the other way and gave you a half-hearted smile and said goodbye, hoping that you wouldn’t trash Yori’s apartment or kick over his bin.

The older man muttered something, but he looked happy to be out and about in the world, with a much younger friend than most of his peers.

Bucky and Yori left you standing in the alley with the trash bag still in your arms. Yori was talking animatedly when Bucky turned his head back towards you and he eyed Yori’s trashcan.

A grin took over your face when you understood what he meant, and you dropped the bag in the trash.

“Have fun!” you yelled out behind them, and mr. Nakajima held up a hand, not even looking back at you as they turned the corner.

Week 3

Walking home from therapy, you grabbed your headphones and blasted classical music through them, trying to push away the feeling of unease that was swirling in your stomach. The noise of the city mixed with the hundreds of people all around you were not helping the anxiety you felt.

You turned the corner to your apartment building when you watched mr. Nakajima being escorted outside by Bucky.

Bucky pressed a gloved hand against the door, holding it open for you. You bent your head as a way of saying thank you and pressed the button for the lift.

A finger tapped you on your shoulder as you were scrolling through your playlist trying to find a certain song and you turned around to face them, the one ear of your headphones pushed away so you could understand them.

“Are you deaf or something?” Bucky asked, pointing to his ears.

“Ah, it’s you again. Taking Yori out on a date again?” The lift dinged and the rickety doors opened slowly.

“Its noise cancellation by the way,” you added, pointing towards your headphones.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky pried, his brows pushed together.

“It means that noise doesn’t filter through,” you stuck your hand between the doors of the lift, preventing it from closing and going up again.

“Are you implying that I’m noise?”

“Yes. Anyway, why are you stopping me? Don’t let the old man wait,” you took a step into the lift, but kept your hand above the sensor, leaving the doors open.

“Well, uh. Here’s the thing,” he scratched the back of his neck and nodded his head towards the backdoor, “Yori said you’re kind of a loner and he also wanted to apologize.”

You ignored the first statement. It wasn’t false anyway, but you were impressed that Yori noticed that.

“Why isn’t Yori here himself then?” you popped out a hip, fully leaning on one leg as you tilted your head a bit, lips pursed.

“We have a reservation at Izzy’s. We go every Wednesday after thera- uh, yeah-, yeah just every Wednesday,” he blushed a little and he gave you a lopsided grin, “his treat, take it or leave it.”

The lift dinged again, signaling it had been waiting for a long period already. You rubbed your face in your hand for a moment before sighing, “sure. I’m hungry anyway."

* * *

The restaurant was very busy for a Wednesday evening. You were sitting next to Bucky at the bar, mr. Nakajima on his other side. The golden maneki-neko was waving at you the whole time, and it distracted you a little from the numerous people in the restaurant. The three of your looked very odd together to say the least: an older man, a younger man wearing gloves inside, and you; bags under your eyes that you were sure could be identified as a new type of black.

Yori had apologized and you had as well, saying you had a bad… week and you promised you would come by once in a while, so he wasn’t as lonely in his apartment. Yori was actually pretty cool you figured, as he was pestering Bucky the whole time about his love life, as well as how bad he was holding his chopsticks.

Yori was trying to get Bucky to ask out the waitress, and you amusedly popped a piece of sushi in your mouth as you listened to their bickering.

Bucky was shaking his head and giving Yori a death stare as he asked Leah out for him. Your gaze flitted between Bucky and Leah and you could see the wheels turning in her head trying to figure out the relationship between you and Bucky.

You stared back down at your plate, deciding which piece of sushi would be next, trying to send the hint that there was nothing going on between you. For Leah that was a sign you were not interested at all. She agreed and told Bucky when her shift ended.

“Wow, Yori, you’re quite the matchmaker, aren’t you?” The question was kind of muffled as you had just popped a big piece of sushi in your mouth, but Yori fervently nodded anyway.

“I used to do it to my son all the time,” he recalled better times where his son was still alive, “nothing ever came of it, but at least he was out for an evening.”

Bucky was staring at his beer bottle, an uncomfortable look across his face and you wondered why the subject of death made him so uncomfortable. To think of it, you had no idea who this guy was, beside a first name.

You nudged his bottle of beer with yours and raised your eyebrows in question. He just shook his head and stood up, announcing that he needed a breath of fresh air.

Yori had moved on to talking to the person next to him, asking about their age and mentioning how many people had died that week of old age.

You slipped out of your seat, not yet comfortable enough with Yori to butt in the conversation, and followed Bucky outside into the fresh air, curious as to why he suddenly felt uneasy when before he looked perfectly fine.

He was leaning against the wall staring up at the night sky, a small notebook clasped between his gloved hands.

When you cleared your throat, he quickly put away the notebook in the pocket of his black pants and straightened up his stance.

“It’s real stuffy inside,” you offered as a reason, taking a deep breath of fresh air. It had actually become quite busy, busier than you could handle at the moment.

He pursed his lips in acknowledgment, but didn't actually say something.

It was actually pretty calm in the part of the city, an occasional hoot of a horn somewhere in the distance the only thing disturbing the comfortable silence.

“It’s nice that you take Yori out every week,” you broke the silence after a bit, “I know I made fun of it but I’m sure he appreciates it.”

The pained look on his face was gone after a second, but you caught it anyway. Up until that point you just thought it was neighbourly and out of pure friendliness, but there might have been another reason. It did feel like something personal, something you weren’t supposed to ask about.

“Yeah, gets him out of his apartment and me too, I guess,” he finally decided upon, masking his feelings and putting on a smile.

“I don’t believe someone like you doesn’t go out much, you look like a chick-magnet.”

“No, a person-magnet in general,” you added, looking him up and down. You had to admit, he was easy on the eyes, the scowl he usually wore adding a certain type of mysteriousness that drew even you in.

“Geez, thanks,” he scoffed, blushing a little nonetheless.

“What’s your excuse for cooping up in your apartment?” he returned the question, “I’m sure you’re a ‘person magnet’ too.” He even used his fingers as quotation marks, which made you laugh.

“Great question for another time, Bucky,” you looked down at your phone. It was getting late and this question hit a little too close to home for now.

A corner of his mouth lifted, “another time, huh?”

“See you later, Bucky,” you winked.

You went back inside to grab your coat, pay your part of the bill - you didn't feel comfortable with Yori paying for you -, and say goodbye to Yori, promising him once again to visit him once in a while.

When you got back outside again, Bucky was on the phone, listening to a voicemail it seemed like. A line was deep set on his forehead, but he smiled as you waved goodbye at him.

Bucky was a quiet soul, but you felt that there was some darkness hidden deep inside of him. The darkness that harnessed your soul as well, and damn you if it didn’t drew you in.

Week 7

“Okay, y/n, let’s circle back to why you’re here in the first place,” dr. Russo said, her pen ready to take notes.

“Fuck this,” you whispered to yourself, but dr. Russo had heard it and was already writing down something in that stupid notebook of hers.

It stayed quiet for a minute. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about it. It was so hard to get the words over your lips as images flashed through your brain, making you relive on of the worst moments of your life over and over again. The moment your life bursted out like a supernova, destroying everything in its way.

“What if I asked you to rank how bad it still influences your day to day life, on a scale from 1 being nothing to 10 a lot?” She tried, her gaze set on your face, willing you to say something, anything.

You heard the explosion before you saw it, too busy laughing with the driver instead of looking in front of you. The car in front of you exploded when it drove over a hidden roadside bomb, the wreck flipping over onto its roof. The vehicle you were in slammed on the brakes and it slid to a halt as all oxygen left your lungs. Your colleagues, your colleagues were in that car that just exploded right in front of your eyes. Laura, your colleague, whose brown curls were still bouncy even after wearing a helmet all day. Laura, who just got engaged to her girlfriend. Laura, who just-

“Like a 7, I would say,” you guessed after thinking for moment. You tried to keep your emotions under wraps, tried to have a blank slate on your face. You couldn’t risk breaking again, setting back the months of work you had already done.

“Okay, 3 months ago it was a 12, so I would say that’s an improvement, y/n,” dr. Russo smiled. “I’m very proud of all the work you’ve put in y/n,” she added, emphasizing your name. It didn’t even matter if she said your name or not, the numbness just took over sometimes, so far that when someone said your name, you didn’t even react.

What were you supposed to say now, thank you? Thank you for helping you getting out of the deep hole you couldn’t get yourself out of, not that you had tried very hard anyway. Thank you for filling the black hole that replaced your heart and made it impossible to connect to other human beings.

“Yeah, sure,” you mumbled as you stared at the butterflies again. Some were dark, fully opaque colours with a speck of colour mixed in. Others were a million and one colours, alive and vibrant. The darker ones always drew you in more, ever since you started coming here.

“So, let’s talk about Nadir, the local man who translated and interpreted for you, yes?” dr. Russo was digging deep in this session, picking at each and every one of the trauma’s you suffered after your humanitarian aid mission in the middle east.

“Help!” The pained voice sounded over the loud ringing that was going through your head. The team and you had stumbled out of the car one after the other, looking at the burning wreck in front of you. Nadir was on his motorcycle just behind the first car, he was lying down on the ground, his bike on top of his lower body, debris of the car piled on top of him as well. The team had sped to his rescue, pushed the bike off of him after a quick check to make sure it wouldn’t cause any more harm. It wouldn’t be okay. Nadir would never use his right leg again. Nadir didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this-

“I haven’t talked to him since the incident,” your voice came out hoarse, your throat dry as sand paper as you thought about Nadir. Nadir whose smile made everything you had been through worth it. Nadir who probably never wanted to talk to you again.

“Why not? It’s great for trauma survivors to stick together, to talk about it, so it can be processed,” dr. Russo tapped her pen against her notebook, “and you know, Nadir used to be a friend, something you’re in dire need of.”

You felt your jaw tense as she repeated for the millionth time that you needed friends to talk about your stuff. This wasn’t something you could spring on people you just met, why couldn’t she understand that?

“Have you made any friends yet, y/n?” she pried again. You hated how much she said your name, trying to form a rapport and to get your attention every time she asked a question.

“I actually went to dinner with my elderly neighbour and his friend,” you admitted. Maybe she would back off on the friends questions from now on.

“Oh, that’s great! These old folks must be very happy to be on a date with a young woman like you.”

“Uh well, his friend is more my age? I don’t know why or how they’re friends, but he’s nice,” the look of surprise made you realize you had maybe said a bit too much and she quickly wrote down something else in her notebook.

A few more minutes. A few more and you were done for this week. You could put on your headphones, play some classical music to drown out the noise from the city and walk home.

“Maybe ask this friend of his out for dinner? Get to know him, y/n, see it as your assignment for next week. Ask him out, on a date or just as friends. That’s not too hard, right?”

You shot her a dirty look, but she remained unfazed as she closed her notebook without breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m serious, y/n.”

“Ah, shit, sure why not,” you stood up from the couch and pulled on your coat, “see you next week, doc.”

The door closed behind you and you let out a deep sigh, slumping against the wall. These sessions really drained every ounce of energy you had left, so much that all you wanted to do when you got home was order take-out and binge watch some trash tv.

Another door closing snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked at the other person who had left their therapist’s office.

The figure was very familiar as you racked your brain for whoever this could be.

“Uh, wait!” You yelled in the spur of the moment, not really thinking about the fact that people didn’t particularly like getting recognized leaving a therapy session.

The figure turned around, the look on their face revealing that they also recognized your voice.

“Wait, Bucky?” How the hell was this possible? Your neighbour’s friend had the same time slot on the exact same day, just a different therapist?

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” His gravely voice reached your ears as you stepped closer to him. He looked tired, and bored. God, he must be a fun client in therapy.

“Probably same reason as you,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Therapy,” he answered after a beat, nodding lightly, “okay. Are you walking home?”

You nodded and opened the outside door, a gust of wind hitting you in the face immediately. Bucky followed you outside, his gloved hands hanging limply by his side.

“You go to therapy for you staring problem?” You nudged his side and he scoffed.

“You here for your trash problems?” You let your jaw drop, but laughed anyway. You didn’t expect him to actually play along, but the small smile that was present on his face made you realize he did actually like to bicker.

“Um, hey, I really don’t want to ask, but my therapist is making me do this,” you said when you arrived at your apartment building. Your tiredness had to wait, as this was a moment that probably wouldn't happen again any time soon.

He stopped in front of the entrance, a look of puzzlement crossed his face, “sounds intense?”

You nodded, “I’m apparently in dire need of friends, so, uh, would you want to grab dinner?”

“As friends of course,” you quickly added, “I know you’re dating that girl form Izzy’s.”

“Your assignment was for you to ask me out?” He ignored the comment about Leah, his hands now in his front pockets and a cocky smile on his face.

“Please, don’t be a dick about it,” you begged, trying your best not to smile, so you rolled your eyes instead.

“Sure, let’s go,” he stretched out his arm, signaling he was ready to go, “‘m not dating Leah by the way.”

“Wait, what? Didn’t you go out with her?”

“Kinda walked out on her in the middle of the date,” he admitted, an uneasy look on his face as you kept walking through the city.

“You did not,” you gasped, “please tell me you had a good excuse.”

When he didn’t respond for moment, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly, “c’mon Bucky, that’s rude.”

“I left a note the next day, felt bad,” he admitted as you both stopped in front of a small burger joint

You shook your head, “you seem like such a gentleman though!”

“I am!” He exclaimed, “I even got her flowers. Apparently no one does this any more?”

“You’re quite interesting, aren’t you?” So he was a gentleman after all, just not all the time?

“Well, I think people mostly give flowers to someone they’re dating for a long time already. Not that I know, haven’t been on a date in ages.”

“Makes two of us then,” he replied as you sat down at a table, a waiter bringing over the menu’s.

You both ordered a hamburger with fries when the waitress returned. You settled in your seat, leaning back and scanning Bucky’s face.

“So you don’t date,” he asked, but it seemed more like a statement. His fingers were toying with his leather gloves, that he was still wearing inside the restaurant.

The words of dr. Russo shot through your head. Friends talk about this kind of stuff, right? Was this a good point in the barely-there relationship to dump all you problems over him, hoping that he wouldn't walk out on this either?

“There’s this big, black hole where my heart used to be,” you murmured, staring outside at the busy street.

“Just some real shitty stuff happened to me,” you elaborated when you noticed the confused look on his face.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked as the waitress put down your drinks.

You took a big gulp from your soda, giving yourself a second to form a coherent sentence in your head before answering.

“Uh, I was- I am a humanitarian aid coordinator. I was on a mission in the middle east a few months ago,” the words came out surprisingly easy, easier than when you were in your therapy session.

“We were driving back to our camp when one of our vehicles drove over a hidden roadside bomb. Killed 4 people instantly, another one lost a leg.

“So by sheer luck I’m still here and some of my colleagues aren’t,” you bit down hard on your lower lip, willing the tears back to where they came from.

“So, that’s why I’m in therapy every Wednesday. Real fun,” you concluded, trying to make fun of yourself and your situation but failing miserably.

“How long has it been?” He softly asked. His voice had no hint of pity, it felt more like… understanding?

“Like, three months give or take.”

You both stayed silent when the waitress placed your orders in front of you. Once she left, you immediately took a big bite from the hamburger, not realizing how hungry you actually were.

“Well, this feels like an interrogation, so answer me this; Yori told me you didn’t show up last week, or the week before. Care to explain why you ditched the old man?” You spoke up, popping a fry in your mouth.

He sighed, a grim look appearing on his face, “I uh, I got arrested.”

“Arrested?” Your voice pitched a bit higher, “what are you, a criminal?”

“I missed a court ordered therapy session, so you decide.”

“I didn’t even know court could mandate therapy sessions, what for?” Bucky had asked difficult questions before, now it was your turn.

“I, uh, I was the winter soldier?” He slowly uttered the words. The reaction of people always went one of two ways. Either it was “so cool, you’re like a killing machine dude!” or “ah you murdered all these people? And you get to walk around freely? Jesus, our justice system is messed up.”

“Oh,” you scratched at the chipped nail polish on your finger, “but you were brainwashed? So technically it wasn’t you?”

He let out the breath he was unconsciously holding and straightened his back, “yeah well, the memories are still up here.” He tapped his temple and popped another fry in his mouth.

“Fucking memories are the worst sometimes,” you agreed, downing the rest of your soda with ease.

“Tell me about it. Haven’t had a decent night of sleep in weeks,” he admitted, explaining why he had the dark circles under his eyes.

You pointed at your own, “same. What’s your go-to thing when you wake up after a nightmare?”

A smirk took over his face, he couldn’t believe you were actually bonding over trauma.

“I usually watch tv,” he narrowed his eyes at you, trying to figure out what you would do.

“I think, you go out to have a coffee in a 24/7 shop.”

You were impressed, “wow, that’s… very close actually. But it’s tea and I usually bring a book along with me.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, exposing a gorgeous smile he had been hiding behind a stoic facade. You couldn’t help but laugh along, the black hole that was your heart not tugging away for once at the wonderful feeling that spread all throughout your body.

Week 9

Dr. Russo’s previous patient had needed a bit more time, so your session had started 25 minutes late. It didn’t happen often, so you just listened a little longer to your music. This also meant that your session was running late as well and you’d have to walk through the city during rush hour.

The sky had turned a pretty pink as the sun was setting for the day. The hallway was deserted as always, and you were kinda disappointed that Bucky’s session hadn’t run late as well. You hadn’t seen him in a while, he was always away for some sort of thing abroad with his partner. You had visited Yori two times, once where you played GO together and the other time just people watched in a small tearoom down the street.

Dr. Russo had proposed you walked home without music today, to get used to the sounds and noises of the vibrant city that was New York. The prospect of walking home without music, without anyone to distract you from the noises scared you a bit, but you bit down on your lip and put away your headphones in your bag.

Sound filtered in immediately when you opened the door to the street, and you took a deep breath before stepping out of the door. Closing your eyes for a second, you tried to get used to everything. A couple of people laughing in the distance, a car that hooted its horn a few blocks away, footsteps passing right in front of you-

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped open, immediately connecting to Bucky’s blue eyes.

“Bucky? Uh, I-, I didn’t know you were still here?”

A flush crept its way up from his neck to his cheeks and he scraped his throat, “I, yes, I was hoping to see you, but my session was done and you weren’t there so…”

He waited a second, the tension in the air feeling almost palpable. His voice was a bit rough, you noted.

“I asked the receptionist and yeah-, she explained dr. Russo’s previous session ran out.”

You fiddled with the zipper on your coat, trying to ignore the heat crawling up to your face.

“Uh, did you want to talk?” You asked after a beat. His blue eyes had been boring into yours, and you couldn’t deny the fluttery feeling that occurred in your stomach.

“Yeah, something like that,” he croaked out, “do you wanna grab a drink or-?”

You rolled your lips in fake consideration, the decision already made when he finished his sentence.

“Sure,” you nodded as well, “I know a calm place not too far from here.”

You nodded your head to the left, signaling he should follow you.

“How was your thing abroad?” You tentatively asked after a minute, trying to ignore all the noise that was giving you slight anxiety already.

His voice was a bit different than normal, just a little more of a grim sound lining it, “uh, heavy shit to be honest.”

That was all he said in that moment and you decided you’d save for it later.

“Well, I visited Yori twice,” you filled the silence. Not that it was awkward, you just wanted to hear his smooth voice in your ears again, focus on the exact tone he was using and how much calmer it made you feel.

“Oh did you now? Knew you’d like the man.”

“We played GO once and I had absolutely no idea how to play, so he won - and rubbed it in my face!” You gestured with your hands, not noticing the fascinated look that was growing on Bucky’s face.

“Oh, we went people watching as well,” you pushed open the door of the little bookstore/cafe combination you often frequented, “and this couple was trying to take a picture next to the fountain, yeah? Well, the guy fell straight in! It was amazing!”

The door closed behind you, the silence in the small shop immediately made you realize how talkative you had been the whole way over.

“Shit, sorry,” you cringed, your first instinct was to walk away, so you disappeared between the shelves filled with tons of books.

“Hey, it’s alright, I like hearing you talk,” he caught up with you, his hand grabbing your elbow to stop you in your tracks. He pulled you a little closer to him,

His firm but gentle grip grounded you, “it’s just, the noise of the city gets to me sometimes. It helps to talk over it.”

“I don’t want to diminish your feelings, but I do understand, y/n,” his gaze connected to yours.

It was quiet all around you, standing closely together between hundreds of books. The sincerity that flashed through his eyes made you hold your breath for a moment, your heart not feeling like a black hole, but more like a nebula. A nebula filled with a thousand stars and even more colours you couldn’t begin to imagine.

“Right,” you whispered after a while, before snapping out of your stupor and taking a step back, away from him and his intoxicating everything.

He cleared his throat and blinked a few times, clearly under the same trance you had been.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him with you, to the back of the bookstore where the cafe was located.

“Ta da,” you gestured to the room, random chairs and thrifted couches mixed in between bookcases filled old classics and luscious plants and strings of lights. There was a small counter with freshly baked goods and non-alcoholic drinks as well as more books spread all around the place.

It was cozy and homey and eclectic and dark: everything you needed when the nightmares woke you up and you couldn’t calm down at your own place. It was open 24/7 and had the best selection of tea you could ever wish for.

“Cozy,” he ran his finger over the backs of the books next to the table you were standing next to, pulling off your bag.

You hummed in response and sat down, dumping your coat over the back of the seat.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, getting yourself comfy in the big chair, three big pillows propped behind your back.

Bucky sat down, tossing a few of the pillows away because who needs this many pillows? He pulled off his gloves as well, revealing his vibranium hand to you for the first time and nodded slowly, licking his lips.

“It’s good news,” he started, a timid smile on his face, “great news even, if I’m being honest.”

You raised your brow in question, a smile tugging on the ends of your lips.

“I think I’m ready to stop therapy.” The words felt unsure, not set in stone yet.

You leaned over and put your hand on his knee, “Bucky, that’s amazing! I’m really proud of you.”

He rubbed his neck and looked away from your face, trying to mask his happiness.

“Did dr. Raynor clear you then? Or did you have to go back to court again-“

He held up a hand and you stopped talking immediately. After rummaging in his coat, he pulled out a little notebook. The same notebook you had seen him clutching closely when you first went to Izzy’s with him.

He looked through it, looking for a specific page before he stopped and slid the notebook over to you.

It was a full page with names, all but one crossed through. You didn’t recognize the crossed out names. The one that wasn’t crossed out yet made you pull your brows together.

“What’s Yori doing on this list?” You asked as you looked at him, “no, wait, what is this list?”

His finger ghosted over the crossed out names, “these are people who I made amends to, because of you know… the winter soldier thing.”

“Ah.”

“And Yori, he- uh, his son-,” he choked on the words. You grabbed his hand that was pointing to the names with both hands, the metal a bit chilly to the touch.

“Take your time,” you rubbed your thumbs in circles over his hand, trying to ease his nerves a little. It reminded you of your mother, when you’d get anxiety attacks during school or when the stress was just getting to you. It made you focus on the feeling of her soft skin on your hand, rather than the thoughts in your head that felt like a tornado ravaging everything or the way your heartbeat would feel different than usual.

He pulled himself together after a minute, dragging his right hand over his face.

“I uh, I- he killed his son… he-he wasn’t even a target but, but he was a witness, and- and the winter soldier doesn’t leave any witnesses,” he managed to say. He bit on the inside of his cheek, refusing to show any emotions.

“I have tried to tell him, multiple times, but-, but I always choke and back down. And… it’s time that I stop lying.”

His eyes were red and he was quickly blinking to get rid of the tears that were waiting to come out.

“Hi, what can I get you guys?” The waiter appeared out of thin air and you ordered a green tea with citrus for yourself and an americano for Bucky, along with some fresh cookies. You thanked them as they walked off to get your stuff, and you turned back to look at Bucky.

“Thanks,” he croaked once the waiter was out of earshot.

You nodded and let go of his hand, feeling a bit awkward that you’d been holding onto it so long.

“Here,” you closed the notebook and slid it back over to him, “I could come with to Yori? Only if you want to, of course.”

“I-, yeah, I would really like that, actually,” he breathed out and leaned back into the seat, drowning in the dark blue velvety fabric.

The waiter had dropped off your order after a while, putting a plate of cookies on the middle of the table.

“Just…, let me know when you want to go and I’ll be there,” you sincerely offered, then pushing a cookie in your mouth.

His whole face lit up as he watched you, your cheeks hamster-like as you were holding your hand in front of your mouth, trying to decently eat the cookie.

He lifted his cup of coffee to take a sip and then cradled it between his hands, “so, how is your therapy coming along?”

The cookie was still preventing you from speaking normally, so you held out your hand and rocked it slightly.

“So-so,” you added after a minute, “it really has its ups and downs.”

“She’s been pestering me about contacting another survivor, actually,” you admitted, “she says it will help me get to terms … or something along those lines.”

You took a sip of your tea, hiding your face behind your mug and avoiding Bucky’s intense gaze that was set on you.

“Do you- do you want to tell me about them?”

You put the mug back on the table and bit down on your lip.

Hesitation set in as you thought about Nadir. The vision of his right leg badly mangled under the bike flashing through your thoughts. Just thinking about it amplified the guilt you felt deep in your bones.

“Nadir had been with us for 7 weeks already. He-he was our local liaison and he interpreted for us as well,” you started the story, picturing Nadir’s face in front of you.

“He lived in the town we were staying in, so we saw his family a lot too. He had two young children, two boys and his wife always made us local food for when we’d be away for a few days.”

“So, a real family man then,” Bucky commented, a sad smile on his face.

“Yeah, his kids mean everything to him,” you nodded. The boys loved playing football with you and the rest of the team during down time, being much quicker than all the older people and slipping between the defense of your team. Quite literally as well, those boys wormed their way into your hearts and saying goodbye hurt more than you would’ve thought.

“After the incident,” your eyes glossed over as you tried not to choke on the words, “he-, he lost his right leg. So, playing football with his kids is probably out of the question.”

“Did he tell you that?” Bucky broke a cookie in two and slid a part over to you.

You rapidly blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the tears, “no, I don’t know actually. I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

“What? Why would you say that?” His hand came to rest on your wrist, as you wiped your eyes with the back of your other hand.

“It’s my team’s fault he was in that situation! He wasn’t even supposed to be there, but we asked him to come with because we wanted his pers- personal opinion on something.

“He wasn’t even getting payed! We just- we just asked him if he wanted to come with us because he was such a great person and he just wanted to help!” you grimaced, your chin trembling and your head hanging low.

“Hey, don’t- don’t say that it’s your fault,” he wrapped his fingers tighter around your wrist to get your attention.

“That bomb was there, whether you were there or not. It’s a stupid coincidence. That’s war for you,” he started, putting your hand in both of his, his next words a bit softer than the ones before, “you can’t put words in Nadir’s mouth if you haven’t talked to him.”

He lowered his head, so his gaze could connect to yours, “talk to him. I’m sure blaming you or your team is not on his mind.”

“But, but what if he does?” You sniffled, “and- and I mean, the whole conflict got even worse after that. International aid workers that were caught in the middle? Made it all worse- so much worse.”

“But, sweetheart, I-,” he sighed, his brows pulled together as he watched you spiral into what he could only describe as a deep pit of despair.

“This is not your fault- not at all. You were at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

When you finally looked up at him, he could see how much of a toll the whole thing actually had taken on you. Red eyes from a combination of exhaustion and crying, as well as the pronounced lines on your faces. Then he noticed how your hand was trembling in his, even when he was holding it so closely in his.

“I-i just feel like this black hole will swallow me so-soon,” you sniffled, trying to keep your eyes open, as tiredness set into your bones, making it difficult to even be.

“I’m sorry, I- I just feel that I don’t deserve the compassion you g-give me,” the words stuttered out.

The therapy session itself had been intense already, but you never expected the conversation with Bucky to take this turn. You never talked about the incident with anyone, except with dr. Russo. Even though you had told Bucky about the incident itself already, you had never revealed how you truly felt about everything and how your feelings were so intense sometimes, you felt they could be the end for you.

“No, please don’t say that,” the exasperated plea left his mouth, “you have been nothing but kind to me, even after everything I’ve told you.”

“And your literal job is helping people, of course you deserve everything you need,” he softly squeezed your hand, his eyes portraying trying to show you just how much you meant to him already.

“You have so much compassion for people, why should you not deserve any yourself?”

You sniffled again and rubbed away the tears under your eyes with one hand.

“I- I don’t know, it’s just hard,” letting out a sad giggle at the sound of your hoarse voice, “I don’t know what to do sometimes.”

“That’s alright, you’re allowed to get lost sometimes,” a toothy smile on his handsome face, “I was lost for a very long time, but look, I think I can confidently say that I’ve made it.”

“You did, you really did Bucky,” you nodded, a small smile coming back to your face again. It felt a bit like the sunshine after an intense rain shower, the moment the first rays of sun came back to warm your face.

“Thanks- and sorry. For spiraling a bit,” you said, putting your other hand on both of his.

“Hey, don’t worry,” grabbing both of your hands in his, “and talk to Nadir. Please.”

The warmth you felt radiating out of this person, made you feel like you were wrapped up in a blanket. Safe and cozy and a place you never wanted to leave again. How a person made you feel this way was not something you ever thought was possible, but the moment proved it existed. The dark hole within your heart was slowly starting to dissipate, swallowing itself whole without dragging you with it into the depths of the universe.

“Thank god this place is kinda dark, I think we both look like wrecks,” you shakily laughed as Bucky rolled his eyes.

Week 11

“Let’s talk about the week you’ve had, anything interesting you want to tell me about?” dr. Russo said, opening her notebook and clicking down on her pen.

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” you sat a bit forward on the edge of the seat, clasping your hands together as you gathered your thoughts.

“I met up with that new friend and I opened up about my situation,” you said, “and yeah. It was nice to open up about it actually.”

“I’m glad you opened up, now how did this friend came to be?” she said as she scanned her notes, “Was it the older man’s friend?”

“Yes. He’s my neighbours friend, but he also goes uh- went to therapy here, so we bumped into each other one time,” you nodded, looking over at dr. Russo who was jotting down some things.

“So, he understands what you’re going through then?” she questioned, “as he is also a client here, I suspect he isn’t one to judge?”

You quickly nodded, “no, yeah. He’s been really supportive it’s crazy.”

“Uh, I told him about Nadir,” you added after a silent moment, “and he pushed me to contact him.”

“Did you?”

You rolled your lips and scrunched your nose, “yeah.”

Dr. Russo stayed quiet, giving you time to mull over the words as she looked at your body language. The fact that you were sitting on the edge of your seat instead of leaned back into the couch showed a lot of improvement to her.

“He was really glad to finally hear from me,” your eyelash fluttering when you tried to keep the emotions in, “his kids-”

“His kids said they missed us, missed me,” you choked out, everything still feeling unreal.

“Did you talk about the roadside bomb?” dr. Russo pulled you out of the story for a moment, before you went off the rails.

Your right hand was gripping your thigh with a lot of pressure, trying to find another outlet without all emotions expressed on your face.

“yeah. He got a prosthetic leg and he’s even able to play football with his kids and they fled the conflict and are living a pretty good life, that’s what he said at least.”

Dr. Russo smiled at you as she shifted her gaze from your eyes to where your hand was turning pale from the pressure, “did you ask about whose fault it was?”

You harshly swallowed as you nodded, “he doesn’t blame me, or our team for that matter.”

“How does that make you feel?”

You let out a shaky laugh, releasing the tight grip on your thigh, “less guilty.”

“Almost relieved in a way, that they don’t blame me, or the team or the mission itself. They still believe we helped the community in a way, even if our being there and the-, the bo-bomb created another conflict.”

“Can you accept now that this is not your fault, not in any way?” dr. Russo asked.

Nadir confirming what Bucky had said did make the incident feel more like just what it was. An accident.

“Not fully,” you admitted, “but it is slowly starting to dawn upon me that there were other factors at play here and that I was just a cog in the machine.”

“You did really well, I’m proud of the progress you’re making,” dr. Russo clicked her pen.

“This friend is a good one, keep him close,” she added, a smile stretching over her face.

She closed her notebook, “now, I want to do an exercise for the rest of our time together.”

Week 15

“You ready?” You whispered as you stood in front of Yori’s door. Bucky looked a bit sick, if you were honest. His face had paled considerably and you honestly weren’t sure what to do if a super-soldier fainted. Could they faint?

“No,” he said after a beat, but he knocked on the door anyway.

If you told him you weren’t stressed, you’d be lying. Yori was a sweet old man, but what Bucky was going to tell him now, you had no idea how he would react. Bucky had been lying to the man for weeks, and not just a little white lie, no — the truth about what happened to his son.

The old man opened the door just a bit to get a look at his visitors, “hey, what are you doing here?”

He immediately opened the door further, revealing the ever candle-lit shrine and you heard Bucky taking a deep breath.

He let you enter first, and you gave Yori a tight lipped smile as you passed him.

The shrine to his son had multiple candles burning, and your gaze was stuck on the picture. You had been in Yori’s apartment before, but you didn’t know yet how his son had been killed. It felt wrong, almost as if you were a bystander in something you weren’t even part of.

“I have to tell you something,” Bucky’s voice was low and gentle, but you knew the words were getting stuck in his throat.

“About your son,” he added and Yori’s face immediately constricted into a frown.

Yori nodded a few times and held out his arm, gesturing that everyone should sit down. Yori probably heard the tone of voice Bucky used and knew whatever he was going to say, wasn’t going to be a simple thing.

You settled on a chair next to Bucky, mostly so you could gauge Yori’s reaction when he finally told him what happened to his son.

Bucky pulled off his gloves for the first time in Yori’s presence, revealing the vibranium hand that had been hidden for so long and took a deep breath in, the lines on his forehead creasing.

“He was murdered,” he simply said, choosing not to beat around the bush as to what faith his son had met all these years ago.

The look on Yori’s face broke your heart. You had come to appreciate the old man and his weird ways when you were out and about. He didn’t deserve this. His son didn’t deserve this. But there were some wicked people in the world who thought brainwashing soldiers into ruthless killing machines was okay. Neither the brainwashed people nor the victims ever deserved this fate.

“What?” He finally choked out.

“By the winter soldier,” Bucky’s voice was starting to lose the little ounce of confidence he had left in him, his throat constricting.

“And that was me.” His voice was shaking as he tried to blink away the tears that were forming in his eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Bucky looked down at his feet, the sight of Yori’s face to much to bear.

The tension in the room was palpable and you honestly had no idea what was about to happen next. Yori looked confused and sad, mixed with a hint of anger in the way he was staring at Bucky’s form.

“What do you mean, you didn’t have a choice?” were the first words he uttered after processing all the information.

He wasn’t looking at Bucky anymore, his gaze shifted to the picture of his son on the small shrine, the incense leaving a smoke trail around it.

Bucky expected Yori to throw him out of his apartment — he would’ve let him do it too.

He swallowed harshly, “I was experimented on, trying to recreate the su-super soldier serum, uh, then they brainwashed me — repeatedly, and put me on ice when they didn’t need me.”

Bucky’s jaw was set in a hard line as he tried . You on the other hand tried your best not to let a tear slip out as you watched the man next to you talk about the horrible things he endured.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky finally choked out, his voice raspy and filled with regret as he looked at Yori, broken and alone.

Yori bit on the inside of his cheek before he shot up and looked at you, “I’d like it if you left — both of you.”

You didn’t miss the exasperated look on Bucky’s face as he realized Yori refused to even look at him.

You stood up and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, signaling it was time to go. Bucky rubbed his face with his hand and then stood up as well.

Yori had already opened the front door, looking at the floor as you both shuffled towards the exit.

Bucky was first through the door this time, slowing when he passed Yori, but when he realized Yori wouldn’t acknowledge him, he quickly left. He already went to the elevator, not waiting for you as you stood in front of Yori.

“I’m so sorry, Yori,” you whispered as you touched the side of his arm.

A tear slipped down Yori’s face as he finally looked up at you. His eyes were vacant and his lips were turned into a deep frown as he nodded.

“If you ever want to talk — my door is always open.”

You stepped out of the door fully now and Yori didn’t say anything before the door closed, but you knew he’d accept your offer. Even if it was next week, next month or next year.

Bucky was waiting outside the apartment building, a grim look on his face as he watched the traffic go by.

“Just give him some time, Bucky,” you told him. The fact that Bucky owned up to apologizing meant a lot, but that didn’t mean everyone would or could just forgive him that easily.

“All the people he killed, I have to apologize for,” he grit his teeth, an angry scowl on his face.

“But no one — no one ever apologized to me for making me this way.”

“I still see their faces in front of me, you know,” he added when you didn’t respond.

All the emotions that were coursing through his veins now were fueled by anger, injustice and sadness. Sadness that he had to become this person, this person who will never feel satisfied with his life because of all the trauma’s he inflicted on people.

You grabbed his vibranium hand, the hand that would always remind him of the horrors he committed, and laced your fingers through his. The metal felt cold to your warm hands, as if portraying how he was feeling at that moment.

He didn’t even react to the gesture, only glanced your way when you lightly tugged on his hand.

“It’s not my place to apologize,” you tried, “and I don’t think anyone will ever apologize, which I’m sorry for.

“But the fact that you — you,” you pressed a finger against his chest, “wanted to apologize for stuff you never wanted to do, makes you the strongest and bravest person there is.”

You licked your lips, gaze shifting between his eyes as he chewed on his bottom lip, insecurity preventing him from accepting your compliment.

“I just have nothing left in me to give to the world, to anyone — to you,” he shakily breathed out as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t know why-, why you are being this kind to me.”

“I don’t think the world or me want anything from you,” you brought your intwined hands up to your chest, holding it closely to your heart.

“You are enough, Bucky, and I don’t know how I can get you to accept that,” you bent your head down and pressed a soft kiss against the back of his vibranium hand.

“I hope one day you’ll see what an impeccable person you are, someone who cares until it hurts too much and even then pressing on,” you wanted to let go of his hand, but his grip wouldn’t let you go.

“Uh, I-I honestly don’t know what to say,” his brow furrowed and a sad smile present on his face, “this is-, it’s the most honest thing someone has said to me for a while.”

“Thank you,” he added, his red eyes portraying just how much his emotions had shifted during the last 10 minutes.

“So, what do you say we get something to eat, huh? I think we could both use some food,” you changed the topic to a lighter one. The day had been very emotional already and you wanted to give him some time to process everything.

“Uh, I need to make a quick stop somewhere,” he pulled on your hand as he started walking towards the city centre, “then I’ll be free.”

* * *

After visiting Yori, Bucky had asked you to do one final thing. A final thing that would give him a clean slate, as he worded it.

When you ended up at the therapy center, you tried your best to hide the surprise on your face. You had waited outside as he went in. It had taken him longer than you expected, but you noticed the city sounds didn’t bother you as much anymore. Just waiting for Bucky was enough to distract you from the city that was alive and buzzing all around you.

After a while, he came back out, a few ripped off pages clutched between his fingers.

“Thanks- for today. For-for coming with me,” he said as you stood in front of the building you frequented every Wednesday.

“Yeah, I’m here for you, Bucky,” you nodded towards the pages, “what are those?”

He quickly put them away in his pocket, crumpling the neat pages without much care it seemed like, “uh-, just something I wanted to keep.”

You decided not to pry, instead asking him about dr. Raynor, “so, ‘m sure the goodbye was hard?”

He fell into step next to you, an unspoken agreement you’d visit the book store cafe again, seeking refuge from the busy city.

“Uh, well, actually she wasn’t there,” rubbing the scruff on his chin, he looked suspicious and he knew.

“What do you mean she wasn’t there? I thought you’d let her know beforehand you’d drop by?”

“Well, you know, she’s… a busy woman,” he puckered his lips, acting as if he had at least tried to get ahold of her.

“Bucky,” you whined, dragging out the last syllable, “you didn’t even try!”

“I left her a card, sweetheart, should be enough,” he put his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you against him.

“Now, I think it’s time for food, don’t ya think?”

Week 19

“And you’re sure you could bring a plus one?” The words rushed out as you followed Bucky closely on the docks to where his partner- scratch that, Captain America, was sitting.

“Don’t worry about it,” he weaved through the children, pretending to be hit a few times when a kid fake-punched him, “they welcomed me with open arms, so why wouldn’t they do the same for you?”

His sunglasses slid down on his nose as he gave you a pointed look over the rim, “besides, weren’t you the one who needed more friends?”

You shoved him against his shoulder, but wrapped your arm around his elbow after and muttered some sort of obscenity, which he only he laughed at.

“You’re very cute, you know that?”

You hid your face against his bicep as he chuckled again, the smile just never leaving his face today.

“Happiness looks really good on you Bucky,” you smiled up at him, tapping your fingers on his bicep.

“It looks even better on you,” he put down the cake on a table and turned to face you, “I mean, the scowl you had on your face when we met was terrifying!”

“Hey, I was having a bad moment. This scowl can come right back, hmm,” you pointed towards your face, trying to look angry.

“It doesn’t work, sorry doll,” he tapped on the bottom of your chin, lifting your head, “even you trying to look pissed is cute.”

A deep sigh left you, but you did feel yourself growing hot at his endless stream of compliments. After visiting Yori, you and Bucky had started spending even more time together, growing closer and closer by the minute.

“C’mon, Sam’s waiting,” he put his hands on your shoulders and steered you towards where Sam was sitting.

“This is like the first time I’m meeting an Avenger, this is so exciting,” you squealed and he let out a deep groan, pressing his thumbs a little harder on your shoulder blades.

“You’re going to give him an even bigger god-complex than he already has!”

“You’re just saying that because you’re not an Avenger,” you turned your head a bit backwards, checking his reaction.

“Psh, quiet you,” he shushed you as you finally arrived at the table where Sam and co were sitting.

“Ah, there they are!” Sam exclaimed and stood up to give Bucky a hug. They clapped each other on the back and said something to each other.

You were patiently waiting next to them, a little bit stressed at the prospect of meeting Sam.

“And you must be the infamous y/n, Bucky has said a lot about you,” Sam said when he let go of Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but you couldn’t miss the blush that was creeping up his neck as he looked away.

“Mr. Wilson, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you held out your hand as you were starstruck by the idea that Sam already knew about you.

“No, no. None of that here,” he pulled you into a tight hug, “and Sam please. Mr. Wilson makes me feel old.”

You let go, a little bit dazed that fucking Captain America hugged you. When Bucky stood next to you again, you gripped his lower arm and looked up at him, eyes big and a coy smile on your face.

“Stop fangirling,” he whispered, trying to not laugh at the expression on your face.

“Never,” you whispered right back, moving your face a bit closer to his before rapidly pulling away.

“Could I have a picture with you, Sam? I’m kind of a big fan.”

“You hear that Buck, your girl wants a picture with me, not you, me!” Sam exclaimed and pulled you under his arm.

Those words gave you a warm feeling, right inside the centre of your chest as you shot Bucky an awkward laugh. How was it even possible to feel this way about someone, even when nothing tangible was going on between the two of you?

“Smile!” Bucky called out, holding up his phone as you and Sam both put on your best smile.

“Thank you so much,” you gushed, still so in awe that you were standing next to a literal superhero.

“Don’t you want a picture with me then?” Bucky asked.

“We already have pictures together, silly,” you said as you took his phone to look at the picture.

“Ooh, these are so good Buck, thanks!” you forwarded the pictures to yourself. These were definitely going onto your fridge.

“But we only have selfies!” He pouted, “‘m sure Sam doesn’t mind snapping a few of us, right?”

Sam held out his hand to grab the phone, “let’s go, the sun is just setting.”

Bucky stretched out his arm around your shoulders as you wrapped on of yours around his waist. He looked down at you, securely squeezed against his side, and the pure happiness that was radiating off of you.

Sam started snapping pictures, just taking as many as he could.

Afterward a few hours, you were sitting next to Bucky at the picnic table eating dinner, “hey, let me look at the pictures, haven’t seen them yet.”

Bucky pulled out his phone again and slid it over to you, leaning a bit closer to you so he could see them too.

“Ooh, this is a cute one,” you softly said, looking at the picture where Bucky was looking at you with a soft smile on his face and you were laughing out loud at a stupid thing Sam said.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as you kept scrolling.

“Jesus, he took like 50 pictures of us.”

“At least we have some decent ones now,” he breathed out, hot air fanning into your face as you felt your insides make twenty flips.

You turned your face a little, noses almost touching as you looked at him out of the corners of your eyes. Whatever was going on between the two of you, it made you feel like you were on top of the world, able to conquer everything, as long as he was by your side.

“Yeah,” you softly smiled, feeling the last remains of the black hole disappear into nothing.

* * *

“Thanks for bringing me to see your friends,” you said as you fell down next to him on the couch that would be your makeshift bed for the night, “or should I say family?”

“They kinda are my family, aren’t they?” He snickered as he threw his arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer.

Tiredness had started to set in into both your bodies after a few hours of mingling, eating and dancing on the docks.

So many people had welcomed you with open arms, making the night so much better than you ever expected. They didn’t ask about anyone’s past, only what the plans for the future were. It felt like a second chance - a second try to feel alive again.

You nuzzled yourself further under his arm and grabbed the hand that was hanging over you to interlace your digits with his.

“Thanks for coming with me, it- it means a lot,” he whispered after pressing a kiss against your head.

“It’s good to see you happy,” you hummed, looking up at him now. He was already looking at you, a soft look in his eyes portraying just how much it did mean to him.

Your noses were almost touching for the second time this day, but now that you were alone in the dark living room it felt a hundred times more intimate and real.

The hand that was holding his over your shoulder, let loose and he whined at the loss of contact. It came up to cup his cheek instead, your thumb rubbing the slight scruff on his face as he shakily breathed in.

He finally nudged his nose against yours, his eyes falling closed as you enjoyed the feeling of the closeness, the warmth of his breath fanning over your face.

“I- can I-“ he trailed off, just a whisper that only you could hear.

You moved slightly forward, immediately answering his question as your lips finally pressed together.

It felt like a breath of fresh air, after being stuck in a stuffy room for way too long. It felt like coming home, his lips soft and warm and pressed against yours in a way you had never been kissed before.

It felt like nothing bad ever happened to you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall off, knowing he would be at the bottom waiting for you to fall right into his arms, right into him.

When you finally pulled back, both your hands were cradling his face, the moonlight illuminating his perfect face.

He pressed a kiss against your palm, before pulling you closer in his embrace, tugging you into him safely.

“I really, really like you,” you whispered, and you pressed a lingering kiss against the side of his neck inhaling his scent and closing your eyes.

“I really, really like you too,” he whispered right back, tugging a blanket over the both of you, settling down for the night, limbs entangled and heartstrings connecting both of your hearts to each other.

Week 34

“What the hell is this,” you whispered to yourself as you held the piece of clothing in front of you. You were redoing your bedroom, the room hadn’t changed since you moved in four years ago and it was overdue. A new bed frame was supposed to arrive tomorrow and you still had to clean out your room, pulling stuff from under the bed even.

This particular piece of clothing was a dark pair of pants, definitely Bucky’s. There were some papers sticking out of the back pockets, his signature scribblings standing out.

“Bucky?” You called out to your boyfriend in the living room. He was reading one of your books on the couch, patiently waiting until he could help disassemble your old bed frame.

“Can you come? I think this is yours?”

You heard him pad over to the bedroom, the fluffy socks on his feet showing a whole other side to the man he usually presented to the world.

“What’s mine?” his gravely voice reached your ears as he stood over you.

You handed him the notes and he immediately chuckled.

“Have you read them?” he said as he sat down next to where you were sitting on the floor, crossing his long legs and scanning through the pages.

You shook your head, “no, but they’re yours, right?”

He hummed a response as he read the words on the pages, written so many weeks ago, when so much was still different.

“Read it,” he handed the papers back, a lopsided grin on his face as he awaited your reaction.

“What is this about, now?” You murmured, not expecting an answer as you scanned the scrawly penmanship, a few words less readable where the paper was very creased.

The words came straight from his heart, poems written about you and what you had said to him. Small little doodles too, a cookie from when you had gone to the coffee shop, or a small drawing of your face, illuminated by the moon.

You looked up at him as he bit on his lower lip, crows feet next to his eyes as he glowed.

“You- you did all of this? Before we- we were even dating?” You stammered, as you put down the papers on the bed, the content in them too precious to leave on the floor.

He slowly nodded, pressing his lips together in a smile, “I-uh, I started getting these feelings for you, pretty early on actually and… I just didn’t know how to deal with them, so- so this was my way to get them out, to- to make them more tangible.

“And, I want you to know, just how much you mean to me. And how much you caring for me, changed me. For the better.”

He hesitated for a second, his eyes narrowing as he thought about what to say next, “uh, you said this thing, pretty early on - it, it was something about your heart being a black hole?”

You didn’t respond, only tilted your head as you wondered where he was going with this.

“I had a similar issue, but ever since I met you - this heavy feeling, it felt- it felt so much lighter instantly-“

You flung yourself around him, your arms around his neck as Bucky fell backwards onto the soft carpet, you on top of him.

You pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, trying to ignore the salty taste of the tears that were streaming down your face.

“Bucky,” you sniffled, pressing a string of kisses on his cheeks, jaw, forehead and nose, “you are, the most- the most precious person I have ever met.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist as you laid on the ground, the mess all around you the opposite of how you felt and the current situation you were in.

“I love you so much, “you croaked out, the tears lodged in your throat but the adoring gaze told a whole other story.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck as he rubbed his hands over your back, “I love you.”

* * *

The pages from his notebook were the centre of the universe for you. Whenever you had a bad day, you went over to your desk and looked at the wall, where said pages were neatly hung in frames and helped you calm down. You could recite the word by heart by now, knew every curl of his handwriting and where every splotch of ink was.

And whenever you had a bad day, Bucky was right there next to you, arms wide open and the soft look of his eyes only reserved for you.

He was your soulmate and you were his. The black holes that used to be your hearts, were replaced by one big supernova, strings of colours intertwined with one another, endless, beautiful and forever.

[youssefguedira]

Hii Neon, so... im bored and thinking about *them* again (that's Joe and Nicky of course). So I've been wondering, what would their favourite dishes be? All I can come up with is that Joe would probably enjoy anything cooked by Nicky (he's got a sweet tooth, though), while Nicky loves a good vegetarian meal, like a vegetable lasagna maybe :D

hiiii anon! i have a personal headcanon (that i meant to write into one of my joe bingo fics at one point. which i still want to do but i have no idea when that will happen) that joe likes really specific food combinations that absolutely horrify nicky. he is the sort of person to put fries in milkshakes, etc. he's not picky at all. he just likes experimenting. nicky, on the other hand, generally isn't that picky (they've all been around too long to particularly care) but there are limits, yusuf, please do not put that on the pizza, i am begging you

(nile 100% agrees with joe. the two of them in the kitchen try to make the worst possible thing they can, with nicky as their (unfortunate) judge)

(nicky despairs of joe's habits on occasion BUT he will learn how to make a specific dish because joe had a craving / wanted to try it and he'll make up combinations because joe thought it would be interesting on a whim. because nicky may tease him about it but he loves him really. even if he sometimes insists on putting ketchup on his pasta specifically to bother him)

joe definitely has a sweet tooth i think! and weird / interesting flavours. he's the sort of person who will order slightly too much food because he wants to try everything / can't decide. he just thinks it's neat.

nicky, on the other hand, i think would prefer things like soup / stew, things that make you make you feel warm and that can feed a lot of people at once, because he's Nicky™.