#probably (although it can be platonic. I mean there is literally no physical body in question)

[iwonderwh0]

Another fic idea that I'll never write:

Connor accidentally transfers from his body and temporarily exists as non-physical entity in Hank's devices

Starts with situation where there's something that requires Connor to be connected to computer via cable (like for example to manually delete some CyberLife junk that slows down the system and lost its purpose) and needs Hank's help to be there and do what it takes, because Connor needs to be in stand by for this to work, so he's just sitting/lying next to him completely limp with caple connected to the back of his neck.

At some point something goes wrong and Hank's computer goes into restart, and when it loads Hank notices that first this CL maintenance program loads in, then blank text document opens on his computer and in a matter of seconds text appears, first some unreadable wall of symbols, then normal text, something along the lines of

"Hank, are you there? I'm afraid my program is running on your computer. I'm trying to move but I'm not sure if it's going through. Am I moving right now?"

Then

"If you're there please write something, I can't hear you."

Hank will stare at the screen, then at motionless Connor next to him, when he look back at the screen there'll be another couple of messages asking him to write something and from the way they're written and the speed at which new text appears it'll look like an escalating panic – from just asking Hank to write something it'll turn into begging to at least interact somehow with the computer, at some point within merely a second they'll start to appear too quickly to read. Hank'll grab keyboard and as fast as he can write something, maybe first just gibberish to write something asap, then delete it and write

"Connor?"

New wave of about a ten new lines of text will appear, most of which just repetition of the general message of "yes, I'm here"

"Can you hear me?" Hank will ask at loud, then type it after not getting any response

Another wave of lines of text with general message being "No, I can't hear you. I can't see you. I can't move." and "please don't leave me", desparation slipping through the lines

Hank will ask if he can do something to fix it

"I don't know" will appear on one line after another in some slight variations, then

"Can you connect some mic and headphones? I can't find any available."

Hank will look around the room, then type "wait, I'll go grab some" to which another wave of desperate "Please don't leave" appear in response, then "when will you get back?"

Unsure if he should go search for headphones at all Hank will type

"3 min"

Then search for headphones

"Connor?" He'll call again, hearing some noise his headphones "Hey, hey, can you hear me now?"

"Yes. I can hear you, but I can't move. I don't- I don't feel like I have any body at all"

"So you're in my computer... How did that-"

"Am I still connected?"

Hank moves to check that Connor has cable securely connected to the port on the back of his neck, and on the other side it's just as properly inserted into according port on the computer. He carefully moves Connor to confirm that one more time.

"Did you feel that?" Hank asks

"Feel what?"

After initial panic when both of them get slightly calmer they'll come to realisation that in order to allow the kind of changes they were about to make android's mind is basically temporarily transferred into another device, in their cases Hank's computer, but due to some mistake in process, computer went into a restart, so no transfer back occured + some component burned down making transfer back temporarily impossible (unless it's replaced). Or idk how it works, it's actually against my headcanons, but fuck it. The point is that this will take time to replace it, because it has to be ordered as something custom that can't be found as it is available the same day.

Without the need to move actual physical body (that occupies most of the resources) actual "mind" is not so big so it can even run on a phone, which is exactly what happens next. (Don't attack me, it's a silly little story idea, so let me have fun)

So for a couple of days or up to a week Connor exists within this non-physical predicament, learning ways to interact with other devices (like connecting to cameras that are within same network just to see something, although it's hard to understand the depth (regular cameras are sure different than the ones used for android's eyes)), surfing the web, etc. Basically like in the movie "Her"(2013) but as a temporary measure.

During this time Hank adopts a habit of wearing a headphones (or just one) at practically all times just to keep Connor a company while he's like that, because (at least at first) he's freaking out and is really opposed to the thought of being left alone even for a short time, because without a body and barely any inputs from the real world (compared to usual amount and quality) the experience is way too similar to non-existence and shit is understandably freaky. It seems like constantly having such a company, basically enduring someone else's presense at almost all times can rapidly become annoying and unbearable, but somehow it quickly becomes a second nature instead. In a way it's even nice. Consequently they talk more than ever, often ending up discussing something minor or ridiculous, something they'd never talked about otherwise, just because they're basically getting used to thinking out loud with a company.

Story ends with Hank finally replacing the component that got broken with a new one, allowing Connor to finally transfer back. The image of his body moving for the first time after being completely still for a relatively long period of time seems to me weirdly adorable. Being able to finally move and feel again must be similar to the feeling of wearing the right type of glasses for the first time after living with way too weak ones without realising how fucking blind you actually are. But yeah, it must be about 10 times better than that.

The first thing after finally being able to feel physically present like an actually existing person? A hug. Of course.

[heygerald]

I love to talk about Tom, I cannot help it. And although I don’t want to overflow your dash as last time (sorry the last blurb was a long one) I want to take a moment to talk about how I think Tom approaches intimacy.

See, I don’t know how he was as a teenager or when he first started in Hollywood, but I think by the time he meets Parker, he probably hasn’t had any serious relationship. Maybe in high school he had a girl or two, but when he left his Home Town behind, he forgot about them, as they weren’t ever something serious; they wouldn’t believe as firmly as him in his dreams of becoming a famous movie star, and so he focused more on himself. And that’s one of the key factors I see here: he’s been so focused on himself to get to where he is, that he hasn’t spared a look to anyone else. Not saying he hasn’t had relationships or flings, but most definitely none emotional intimate deep connection to anyone, romantically speaking (and also, platonically; the poor man has only work friends, he needs some real buddies).

So with Parker, I believe he would experience a true connection for the first time, because as you so beautifully wrote, she sees him. All of him. And he sees her. He likes to play, sure, and he finds pleasure in physical contact and heart racing cardio activities that involve only the two of them, but after the high they’d share together, he’d still feel in a lovesick daze infatuated by her; where he once would be done with anyone after sharing his bed, now he would want to stay there forever without letting go of her.

The caress of her skin against his, his lips pressing against her body, and something as simple as her perfume on her pillow on his bed or the feeling of her frame against his while watching a movie on the couch… all of that, would mean the world to him. Because he’s never experienced something like that, and he’d for sure never ever would want to lose it.

🚨🚨🚨🚨 bub you can take ALL of my dashboard space forever because this is so fire 🔥

I totally agree that Parker would be Tom's first real "girlfriend". Especially the first one that he had to bond with normally, and not just someone shoved at him on a red carpet in hopes of good publicity. He us definitely enamored with her—the first time he realizes he's used to having someone else around (perfume on the pillow, her side of the bed, her stealing his clothes—Tom is speechless. He's never known this feeling before, and it's all Parker.

Literally love them goodbye

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Don’t Feed The Flames - Bucky Barnes x (f)reader, Natasha x platonic (f) reader

Summary: Bucky has made you angry after a tough mission with the crew, why you ask? Apparently he thinks it’s totally fine to run inside a burning building to help you complete the mission in question. 

Warning: bit of angst, mostly a good time with the team, Bucky fluff shoved in ur welcome

-reader has fire powers btw, I don’t wanna confuse anyone lol

Masterlist

The mission was difficult to say the least, successful in its own right, but tough for everyone involved. All the Avengers were needed for this clusterfuck of a mission, minus Bruce and Thor who are elsewhere in the universe, lucky them.

All the team needed to do was infiltrated one of the last highly armed Hydra bases left in existence, get rid of the artillery and boom, slither right on in. Objective? Snatch valuable intel as to where the other bases are hiding, and surprise surprise, you and Wanda had to take care of some very pissed off experimentees who were unfortunately brainwashed beyond the point of helping them recover.

Ending the night in everyone quickly evacuating the premise with the essentials while you stayed back to blow up the base to nothing more then bricks and ash. Although during this, Bucky stayed back to shoot some freelancers who tried to take you the fuck out, with what would you know it; flame throwers.

Apparently Hydra is greatly lacking in weapons and functioning brain cells, among other things. Granted, you understood Bucky’s concern for your well-being when he ran into the fire. But oh dear lord were you not happy with him one goddamn bit.

Luckily Sam was able to pluck him out before anything fell on your idiot boyfriend while you were producing mass destruction in the giant airplane storage area. In the aftermath, you came out unharmed but covered in smudge marks and burnt off cloves yet again.

Bucky? Well he came away with a pissed off girlfriend and his life to say the least. And let’s just say the long four hour ride back was a tad bit awkward, even if you were too damn exhausted to show your irritation with Bucky. The team sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to be spared of your wrath when the jet landed.

It took approximately ten seconds for your man to shuffle out of your line of sight, using Steve as a shield to hide behind while they walked out. You had been distracted when Natasha asked for something picked up, then suddenly your mind was on Bucky. A moment later you stomped out of the Quinjet in pursuit of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes as he awaited your fury.

“James!” You growl fiercely, “You are the most fucking reckless person I’ve ever fucking met and I’m literally friends with Tony!” You snap while the rest of your teammates go about their business, trying to listen yet smartly staying out of everything.

“I know.” Mutters Bucky like a kicked puppy suffering his mother’s wrath, blue eyes looking at you with regret clearly visible on his handsome face.

“You know! You know!? Then why the fuck would you just run into the flames like that!” You shout while throwing your arms into the air in frustration, “You’re not fire proof Bucky!”

“Y/N...”

“Do you have a goddamn death wish!?” You interrupt, giving him a dumbfounded look as he glances from Steve to the floor then back to you again, trying to find something or someone with enough pity to help him. 

He finds none, “Well....no.” Your brows raise yet again at his short and annoyingly blunt answers to make up for his stupidly daring boldness. 

“Then why-ugh, whatever never mind.” You dismiss with a wave of your hand before quickly turning on your heels to walk for the metal doors into the main part of the facility, while the others keep their distance from your heated state.

“Wait Y/N, come back I’m sorry!” Exclaims Bucky desperately while you continue to ignore your reckless man, “You’re right I shouldn’t have....ugh...come on babe....shit...” Mutters Bucky as he watches you leave him in such a heated state.

“Dude just let her cool off, oh uh well....no pun intended.” Jokes Sam with a shrug as Bucky watches you stomp away in frustration, your body almost sizzling with actual flame.

“I didn’t mean to....well...ugh, shit I guess I kind of did.” Admits Bucky with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as you slam the door shut with a loud thud, “Sometimes I forget fire can’t hurt her. I should have just let her handle the burning building herself instead of going inside when she uh, told me not to.”

Steve walks out of the Quinjet with a bag in hand to greet the two, “Y/N seemed a bit...”

“Pissed off.” Adds Sam with a light chuckle as Bucky frowns at the giant glass window.

“Yeah.” Mutters Steve awkwardly as he side eyes Bucky, “Well ugh, see you guys at dinner, I think Wanda and Vision are getting takeout from somewhere.”

“See ya Steve.”

“Bye.”

Sam and Bucky watch as Steve heads for the metal doors, soon he’s gone and the two are the only Avengers left in the giant parking garage of sorts.

“She’s going to hate me for the rest of the day I know it.” Sadly mutters Bucky, already missing your beautiful face no matter what state your in.

“I wouldn’t say it’s hate.”

“She’s going to be very disappointed in me then.”

“Yeah probably.”

Bucky gives him an offended look, “You’re supposed to say something uplifting or positive.”

“Man don’t look at me for relationship advice. This is Y/N we’re talking about, just give her a couple hours she’ll simmer down.” Inquirers Sam with a friendly pat on the back before he starts walking away for the door, as casually and unbothered as ever.

Bucky keeps silent for a moment while his mind swims with what to do next, suddenly he looks up at his retreating friend, “Hey Sam!” Shouts Bucky just as Sam opens up the door, causing him to stop and give his friend a quizzical look.

“What?!”

“Fuck you!”

Sam immediately snorts, “You brought this upon yourself brother!” And with that he shuts the door leaving Bucky alone and full of regret for putting himself in danger today when you specifically told him you could handle yourself.

Why is caring for someone so hard, wonders Bucky.

——

After taking a greatly needed shower and putting on a fresh new pair of comfortable clothing for the evening, you slipped past your friends rooms and away from where Bucky may be hiding.

Until at last you made it to Natasha’s door without being caught by anyone in the hallway and stopped for a needless conversation. Soon enough you slip into Nat’s room and saunter around for a bit as you wait for her to end her shower.

“Oh shit!” Gasps Natasha as soon as she opens the door and notices you poking around her stuff, “Jesus Y/N how’d you get in here!?”

“I opened the door.”

“I thought I locked it?”

“You did.”

Natasha gives you a puzzled look as you wander over to her nightstand, nonchalantly minding your business while picking up her current novel as she watches you curiously, “So uh, how’s it going?” She asks cautiously, well aware of your irritation with Bucky earlier that day.

Flipping through the pages you answer her honestly, “I’m fine now.”

Natasha nods before turning around to search through her drawers for an outfit, “I figured that much, considering if you were still pissed you’d be throwing fireballs into the cement wall downstairs.” She quips with her usual smirk as you gently close the book and set it back in its rightful place.

“That is.....true.” You agree with a shrug, “I’m just sending a message at this point.”

“Oh really?” Laughs Natasha while slipping on a shirt, “Poor Bucky then.”

“Yeah well he was being an idiot tough guy so....it’s what I’m doing.” You add with a lopsided smug grin, “Serves him right for being reckless with no regard for his physical safety. I love him but at what cost?”

“Someone needs to tell Steve that.” Mutters Natasha as she pulls on some sweatpants.

You chuckle, “What? That someone needs to tell Steve they love him? Not a bad idea.”

“That too.” Points Natasha, “I seriously don’t know how he’s not dead yet.”

Your brows furrow in thought for a moment, “He’s built like a stone sentinel with a will greater then many, he fears nothing.” You deadpan, face stoic and serious.

“Just about.” Laughs Natasha as you begin to cackle right along with her, in the middle of your laughing fit does the door suddenly burst open to reveal...

“Hello ladies.” Chirps Tony with an award winning smile, usual old T-shirt on and hair a bit of a mess though somehow managing to keep his Stark charm.

“I really need to get an automatic lock on that thing.” Mutters Nat to no one in particular.

“What’s up Stark.” You add with an acknowledging tilt of your head, “You here to bother us or tell us something interesting?”

“Everything I say is interesting my dear sparky.” Quips Tony with a brow wiggle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, anyways. Foods here.” Chides Tony as he sets a hand on his hip, “Unless you’re both too cool for movie night. More for us then, I’ll have Vision drop off our half eaten tacos.”

“We have tacos?” You ask with an intrigued raise of your brow, just wanting to confirm and make sure he’s not bluffing, you fucking love taco night.

“Yep.”

“How long have they been here?”

“Wanda and Vis just arrived so you’re the first two I found.” Oh, fuck yeah!

Turning your head to a smirking Natasha you smile back before bolting for the door, “Move Stark!” You snap before shoving him to the side and cackling as you and Natasha book it down the hall with Tony trying to keep up in the background. What can you say, Natasha always makes it a competition and its taco night. Sometimes you gotta play dirty.

Soon you and your assassin best friend who you tripped up before reaching the door finally skid into the Avengers giant lounging area. The room is relatively empty with the exception of Wanda and Vision who are seated at the large metal table near the kitchen where all the various paper bags of tacos are seated. And ripe for the taking.

Smelling absolutely delicious all tucked snug in their wrapping and filled with the most divine ingredients, you could just about die of happiness. With a beaming smile upon your face and the surprised expressions from your two friends you belt out loudly, “Tacos FUCK YEAH!” Before racing for the bags and getting tripped by Natasha.

Whipping your head up to watch her snatch a bag you growl half angrily, “You bitch.” While she happily smiles back down at you, taco in hand.

“What are you doing on the floor? Foods here.” She jokes as you quickly walk over to the counter with all the bags.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious now give me that.”

After about ten minutes of eating and shooting the breeze with Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Tony; you’re ears immediately catch the sounds of thundered running down the hallway and other muffled curses from two familiar individuals.

“Fun’s arrived.” Whispers Natasha with a friendly nudge to your arm as it lays on the flat surface of the table while you absentmindedly crumple up a wrapper.

Biting your lip you anticipate the impending commotion, “Fantastic.” And this whole evening could be more enjoyable if your hundred year old boyfriend would have used some common sense.

A second later the door swings open to reveal a panting Sam before Bucky slides in after him, equally as flustered, those two idiots. As they stand there collecting their breaths, Steve casually steps into the room, walking past them and over to the bags of tacos, “Aw sweet, taco night.” He confirms excitedly, hungrily eyeing up a particular bag.

Rolling your eyes, you slouch carelessly into your expensive swivel chair before turning to Wanda who’s seated across from you, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, you’re up.” She turns her attention away from Vision and nods before giving you a sly smirk and using her power to send a balled up piece of taco wrapping straight for your head.

In one calculably swift motion do you incinerate the paper material before its able to reach your face, “Y/N you’re going to set the fire detectors off.” Laughs Tony as he crumbles up a new ball.

“Eh, we could afford a renovation.”

Tony fake scoffs, “Rude.”

“Well Y/N, I thought you did great.” Applauds Wanda with a chuckle as the three other men walk around to the far end where no one is seated, “Alright Tony you next.”

You refrain from making any eye contact with Bucky who steals a few longing glances at your smiling face, instead he follows Sam and Steve to the opposite end and watches as you quickly turn another balled up paper to ash. The sounds of your laughter and the rest of the tables almost enough to drive him insane.

Yet he refrains, Bucky knows he’s essentially in time out, reason for almost getting himself killed today; and you’re not breaking anytime soon, or so he thinks.

Ignoring the three boys hungrily attacking their poor tacos away from the main groups theatrics, Vision suddenly gains your attention, “Well I suppose I should participate with this game or fear feeling left out....uh, what is the objective? Or perhaps the name?”

“They throw wrappers at me and I set them on fire before it hits myself or the ground.” You reply while crumbling up another piece, leaving Vision to process the possible deeper meaning to your brief explanation, though there really isn’t one. It’s just for fun.

“By the way I’ve been able to get her exactly once.” Brags Tony with a shit eating grin, causing you to scoff at that memory. 

“Oh fuck all the way off you flicked water into my face and then threw the paper.”

“And it was very much worth it.” He confirms as you roll your eyes at his cheating from last taco night.

The rest of your friends fill the room with snickers and some louder laughter coming from Sam down at the far end, with a raised brow you snap your head in that direction and stand, “Something funny bird boy?” You quip in a half threatening manner.

Sam’s smirk immediately drops from his face as his expression appears nonchalant, “What nooo. That was Steve.” He mutters before taking another bite out of his taco.

“Y/N that was definitely not me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe it was Bucky.” Jokes Sam as you shift your fiery attention over to a fearful Bucky who quickly shakes his head before smacking Sam on the arm.

“No.” You confirm with a knowing smirk, “He doesn’t have a death wish.”

“Well neither do I please have mercy.” Pleads Sam with hands raised in defeat, “I would like to finish my taco.”

You stare down at them for a brief tension filled moment before casually shrugging, “Yeah alright.” Before sitting back down again.

——

Opening up the trash can you quickly shove down three giant paper bags from dinner with a bit of effort considering how full it is. Natasha and Vision are cleaning up in various areas nearby while Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit in the lounging area discussing if it was necessary that Dobby was killed off in the Deathly Hallows. You know, normal things you discuss with your superpowered friends.

Well Bucky is mostly just listening and stealing glances over to you every couple of minutes, really wishing you would just walk over to him and let him show you how sorry he was with the biggest hug he could possibly muster. Probably never letting you go again, though you wouldn’t mind.

Ignoring your own longing to be cuddled up next to Bucky, you instead fight with the damn trash can to fucking shut its dumb lid already. With one hand forcefully shoving down bags, paper plates, and banana peels you start to think if volunteering for clean up was even worth it.

A blue flame suddenly erupts from your palm and makes a big black hole through the paper bags and plates, your eyes go wide in surprise as you immediately retract your hand from the trash and shut the lid just as quickly.

Taking a single step back you let out a breath before turning your head to find Bucky watching your whole ordeal go down with a drink in hand, guess he must have gotten up to get some juice and stayed for your one on one brawl with the trash can. Rolling your eyes, you wave it off, “Completely under control.” You mutter as he slowly nods.

Well this is awkward.

Shifting your gaze from Bucky to your friends and back to Bucky again, he finally speaks, “Is that why the lid has smoke coming from under it?”

“What?” You wonder in puzzlement before looking back down at the trash can to find smoke indeed rising, “Oh fuck!” Ripping the lid off you’re kindly greeted with a burst of flame and smoke. Well, shit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Asks Bucky with an uncertain chuckle, “You’re positive everything is under control?” Quips your smartass boyfriend.

With more flames rising to an almost alarming level, though not quit yet, you glance at your oblivious friends before racing for the sink, “Yes! Everything is fucking fine!” Wanda skips to the side as you snatch a cup of something from the counter by the sink.

Running back you skid in your tracks and dump the clear liquid onto the flames which causes them to rise even higher and gain the attentions of everyone sitting down and relaxing, “Why is my trash can on fire?” Asks Tony as casually as ever.

“I don’t know maybe it looks better this way?!” You sass before giving the glass a double take, “The hell? What the fuck was in this!” You shout, holding up the glass while fire burns in the trash from behind you.

“Oh that had some Quinjet fuel in it, why do you ask?” Replies Tony, he’s gotta be fucking with you.

Squinting at him in bewilderment, you shake the empty glass in frustration, “Why the fuck would there be a random glass of fuel sitting in a clear unlabeled glass on the fucking sink of all places!”

“What did you think it was?”

“Oh I don’t know!? Water?!” You snap causing the fire to roar even higher at your outburst.

Looking almost like a demon princess standing there with flames rising from behind you, your fists ball up with blue flame, something that you don’t even realize is happening as you give Tony a (what the fuck are you actually stupid) face.

Sensing your obvious irritation and rising anger, Bucky comes to the rescue with a whole bowl full of actual water and promptly dumbs it onto the flames which causes the unless materials to sizzle and whine. Soon the oranges and reds are gone, leaving the contents turned to ash and nothing more then wet soot.

Distinguishing your own flames, you hang your head low, revealing a tired heavy sigh as you mumble, “Shit.” Suddenly you feel admittedly quit drained and annoyed from the events of the day, even if they weren’t all bad.

Your friends keep silent for a moment before Steve quickly stands, “Movie night anyone?” Gaining the attention of everyone in an instant; you bless the blonde for his intuitive ways of helping you out in the smallest of moments. He truly is a great friend.

“Yeah I could watch something.” Adds Sam with a shrug, “I’m thinking Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

“Yeah it’s pretty good I’ll join.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah I’m in.”

Everyone get up and begins walking for the door as you stay standing in your spot near the wet and ash covered metal trash can, everyone exiting for the home theater except for Bucky who’s back is to you while he tells Sam you’ll be there in a minute.

Folding your arms, you suddenly feel like it’s the first time you and Bucky have ever talked one on one with each other, you’re typically a pretty damn confident and fiery person to begin with, it’s just. Being mad at your favorite human in the whole entire world and then embarrassing yourself with accidentally setting the trash can on fire can take its toll.

Also not to mention the mission many hours ago was admittedly hectic and stress inducing and then, Bucky....perhaps a moment to calm down would have been smart if taken earlier. God your life moves to damn fast.

“You are so intense sometimes.”

Breaking out of your self reflective trance, your eyes quickly dart up to see Bucky who’s giving you a soft smile, “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Very funny.” You scoff, “I was actually too busy being mad at you.”

“Ah, right.” Nods Bucky as he mirrors your defensive positioning, deciding to cross his arms and make a pouty face like yourself, “So I guess we’ll just stay here and brood then?”

“I’m trying to make a point.” You mutter, you’re not gonna crack, you’re not gonna do it.

“I’m trying to get my girlfriend to watch a movie with me.” Admits Bucky with an affectionate head tilt as you frown, “I know they’re not going to wait for us so....uh....okay let me start over.....I’m sorry for being reckless and almost dying. And I mean it too, with all of my heart. I love you Y/N.”

Although you’d like to throw his dumb reckless ass some sass and strut away leaving him guessing and begging for more, you just can’t find it in you at this point. He looks at you with those big beautiful blue eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you, how could you possibly resist them?

You know with every ounce of your soul that he means every single word, and you also know that he’s missed you since the second you yelled at him and slammed the facility door, leaving him alone and regretting his past decisions that could have potentially ended him then and there.

“Sometimes James, sometimes.” You mutter, shaking your head in disapproval before a small smirk pulls at your lips and in that moment he knows you’re his, “Come here.”

Heeding to your wonderful command that he’s been waiting to hear all day, he swiftly makes the short distance to gather your smaller body into a giant Bucky bear hug, his strong arms wrap protectively around your back as his head falls into the side of your neck as he quickly steals a small kiss.

You pull him in even tighter and fully enjoy the sensation of himself flush against you, metal arm squeezing your rip cage and long dark hair that falls into your eyes; god you love him so much.

Giving you one last little squeeze of affection, Bucky slowly pulls away and presses his head against yours, “I gotta be honest, I have no idea what this movie is about.” Reveals Bucky as he continues to holds you close.

Chuckling you press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Let’s go before we miss anything else.”

Nodding, he tilts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips one last time before letting you go, so that the two of you can begin walking for the door. Opening up the metal and glass door for you like the gentleman that he is, Bucky quickly jogs over to your side.

“So Sam told me these guys are wizards or something? Like they can teleport and fly I think?” States Bucky in question while walking in step with you.

Looking over at him you smile at how cute he’s being right now, giving him an agreeable nod, “Yeah they can do cool stuff like change form and set things on fire.”

Bucky suddenly starts laughing much to your confusion, “Y/N does that make you a wizard?”

Shoving him to the side you snort as he keeps laughing, “Shut up.” You mutter humorously as he stumbles from your friendly push.

Making quick steps to catch up with you, Bucky pulls you into his side, “Forgive me I didn’t mean it...” Snickers your adorable idiot, “I bet you’d be the best wizard, pointy hat and all.”

Shaking your head you can’t help the smirk that tugs against your better wishes, “I’m gonna set you on fire.” You jokingly threaten him with as he affectionately squeezes your side, causing you to be pressed even closer against him.

“Wizard.” Muses Bucky as he plants a kiss to your cheek as you try and push him away.

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

“But, I love you.”

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Can you talk about autistic Hawk/Eil

Sure, I’d love to!!!

Credit where credit is due, of course--I got a lot of my Autistic Eli headcanons from @jackonthelongwalk, who’s got a little more authority to speak on the subject since he’s actually autistic and whatnot. I mainly just saw his takes and was like “THOSE ARE GOOD TAKES” and adopted all of them XD Although I DID come up with a few of my own headcanons!!! I’ll just compile everything here.

~Eli tends to be pretty particular about physical touch, and a lot of the time he doesn’t really like it. Over the years, Demetri’s found that one type of touch that Eli’s okay with is shoulder-squeezing, and it kinda becomes their thing. Typically Demetri giving Eli a quick shoulder squeeze helps comfort him and makes him feel safe by basically reassuring him “I’m here for you, I’ve got your back.” You can see Demetri give Eli a shoulder squeeze in 2x09 when he’s comforting him about Moon, and he does the EXACT same one in the school fight in 2x10 just before kicking him into the trophy case. I think it was his way of saying “even though we’re fighting right now, I still care about you” and that kinda helped snap Hawk out of his near-psychopathic rage. In Season 3, he’s still shitty to Demetri, obviously, but it’s more controlled, not as unhinged or feral--even when Hawk breaks his arm, he hesitates a LOT before and regrets it IMMEDIATELY after in a way I’m not sure his UNCHECKED RAEEEGE self would have during the school fight.

~Over the years Demetri develops kind of a sixth sense of when Eli is about to have a meltdown. He’s able to pick up on super minute changes in body language, changes in the way Eli speaks, small alterations in Eli’s general temperament--basically anything that indicates he’s getting overwhelmed. That’s actually how he discovers the shoulder squeeze tactic--Demetri realizes he needs a quick way to comfort and reassure Eli when he can’t go in for a full hug (like they’re in the middle of class or something) so he can calm Eli down a bit and stop him from having a meltdown. Mainly because Demetri knows the bullies will have a field day if Eli cries in front of the other kids, so the shoulder squeeze develops as sort of a way to protect Eli from this.

~At some point after Demetri first started using the shoulder touch/squeeze on Eli, Eli started also using it on Demetri to quickly communicate affection/appreciation. Demetri isn’t nearly as touch-averse or picky with physical touch as Eli, and would’ve been okay with a number of physical touches, but he’s honestly super touched that Eli saw him doing a thing and was like “Oh hey!!! Demetri does this thing to me and it makes me feel safe and loved, so I’m sure it’ll do the same if I do it to him!!!” It kinda becomes their special touch, and becomes somewhat of a silent “I love you” (although obviously these two clueless idiots are led to believe it’s ONLY platonic love for many, many years XD). You can see Eli give a little shoulder pat/squeeze to Demetri at the beach party in 1x09!!

~Eli really does not like being touched around or under the chin, mainly because this is how bullies like Kyler touch him and it’s triggering for him. Demetri basically never touches him here. Even after they get together and start getting intimate, Demetri tends to touch/stroke Eli’s cheeks or the side of his head if he wants to touch his face, but he avoids touching Eli’s chin like the plague because he knows how much Eli dislikes it. This is something Eli really deeply appreciates--even Moon wasn’t able to catch on to the fact that he didn’t like having his chin touched, and he was too obsessed with coming across as “tough” to her to admit that it bothered him. Moon didn’t mean any harm at all, of course, she just wasn’t able to pick up on his more subtle indications that he wasn’t a huge fan of chin touches. Demetri has come to pick these indications up by second nature.

~The whole thing Demetri does at the beginning of the show where he kinda talks “for” Eli (the thing that, ironically, people loooooove to blast him about for being a “terrible friend”) I think is largely done because Eli is autistic. Eli seems to have a lot of social anxiety right from the get-go--he doesn’t even verbally greet Miguel when he first sits with him and Demetri and Demetri introduces Eli. Eli just kinda awkwardly smiles and nods at him. He’s obviously not great with social cues either, which we see later on--he’s so PAINFULLY oblivious to the fact that Piper is super not at all into it when he tries to hit on her in Season 2. I imagine after a number of social blunders in their youth, and seeing just how uncomfortable and anxious social situations made Eli, Demetri took the reigns and did a lot of communicating FOR Eli to take some of the pressure off of him to talk. I’d argue that once Demetri is taken out of the picture, we can see in full force JUST how socially anxious and uncomfortable Eli really is--he seems damn near terrified trying to stand up for himself against Johnny when Demetri’s not there. He’s lowkey stuttering and tripping over his words, his voice is shaking. He nearly leaves the room in tears. He’s used to letting Demetri be his voice, and this seems to be what makes him feel safest and most secure. When this is taken away, he has to find a new way to protect himself--hence, possibly, the entire Hawk persona.

~Eli has a lot of issues with emotional regulation and often feels emotions really, really strongly and gets overwhelmed by them--as an ADHDer, this is a struggle I understand SO MUCH. When Eli gets really overwhelmed with strong emotion, he tends to have meltdowns. These can be either sadness-based meltdowns (like we see in the flashback) or angry meltdowns (like we see when he beats Brucks up). Due to his emotional regulation issues, Eli has a really hard time hiding his emotions or stopping a meltdown once it kinda onsets--this is why he tends to “bawl” at movies. Once he starts crying, he can’t really stop, or reign it in--it just keeps coming. He also can’t really hold it back--his emotions tend to force their way out, whether he wants them to or not. This is also why he goes so HARD when he’s angry--wailing on Brucks, throwing punch after punch at Demetri at the school fight, getting carried away and attacking Robby’s injured shoulder at the tournament. His anger (and other emotions) tends to just kinda explode out, and he has a really hard time reigning them back in and keeping them in check. Demetri, ever the voice of ration and reason, can help with this--and probably has a lot, historically. With Demetri less and less in the picture and their relationship on the rocks, Eli’s emotions just seem to get even more wild and uncontrolled, particularly his anger. Part of the reason I think Demetri and Eli work so well together--Eli tends to get very caught up in his emotions (no shame in that--I’ll admit I do too!), and needs someone to help him keep his feet on the ground and be the pragmatist who helps him keep things in perspective.

~Karate is most definitely a special interest for him. It lowkey takes over his life and he makes it damn near his entire identity--big special interest energy. And Demetri (at first, at least) is lowkey so supportive!!! Like he goes to the all-valley tournament to support and cheer Eli on, despite not having any personal interest in fighting and seeming to think the whole thing is the kind of dumb macho shit that goes against everything his nerd identity stands for XD But he goes to the tournament anyways to clap for his boyfriend best friend’s badassery!!! The real MVP!!! Also special interests in general (not unlike ADHD hyperfixations) tend to be very random, hence why seemingly out of nowhere Eli gets absolutely OBSESSED with karate.

~Just a random little headcanon I have (I think I mentioned it on one of my general headcanon posts), but I like to think after Eli adopts the whole “Hawk” persona, he gets a special interest in birds of prey in general for a little while. Like back before he’s too “tough” for anything even remotely related to “nerd shit,” he watches nature documentaries on raptors and the whole 9 yards and constantly rambles excitedly to Demetri about how badass he thinks they are, and how cool it is that they can “literally hunt mice from the sky and shit” (probably an exact quote from him). Demetri finds this sudden new obsession both amusing and kind of endearing--but as always, he shows an interest in it and accommodates it as best he can. I imagine he’s seen Eli go through a number of special interests over the years, and is a pro by now on how to handle them (my own childhood best friend is a fellow ADHDer, and he was CONSTANTLY getting new hyperfixations--I imagine it was something like that XD).

~The whole “Hawk” persona in general seems pretty autistic, speaking of that--like it’s almost entirely based in mimicry and masking. Like Hawk pretty frequently mimics Johnny’s expressions, body language, and speech patterns, and (at least at first) Miguel’s fighting style. He also starts to mimic a lot of Kreese’s problematic views and general “never accept defeat” attitude in late Season 2 and Season 3, setting his good old Bastardization Arc in full swing. The whole Hawk thing could easily be masking, especially given how exaggerated and overdramatic Eli’s facial expressions, voice, and actions tend to be when he’s trying to be Hawk. When he slips back into “Eli” (or how he was before he adopted the mask), it’s usually around Demetri (i.e. the Doctor Who conversation)--which makes sense, since Demetri “gets” Eli better than most people and Eli doesn’t have to mask or overexaggerate his expressions or statements to communicate effectively with Demetri. They’ve known each other so long and Demetri is so familiar with his body language and mannerisms that Demetri is able to pick up fairly easily on what Eli’s trying to communicate/express without Eli having to work too hard at getting his point across. It’s why Eli’s expressions and body language aren’t nearly as exaggerated around Demetri, even when he’s trying to intimidate him--he knows he doesn’t have to overstate what he’s doing to communicate with Demetri.

~Relating back to the social troubles and social anxiety thing, I think Eli has always had trouble communicating verbally, hence why he’s so quiet at first. And even when he does get more talkative, a lot of it is mimicking other people’s speech patterns and ideas (namely Johnny’s at first)--it doesn’t really feel like him talking. Even alone with Demetri, he tends to prefer to let Demetri do the talking, hence Demetri saying Eli’s a “man of few words.” He often prefers to communicate nonverbally through body language, and when he DOES communicate verbally, he does it somewhat sparingly and chooses his words carefully, not usually bothering to say things he doesn’t mean (if he isn’t masking, anyways). THIS is why Demetri was so ready to accept such a short, concise “I’m sorry for all of it” from Eli instead of a long, drawn-out apology for each individual thing he did wrong. Eli knows he doesn’t have to bother masking to communicate with Demetri, so he’s not going to bother saying something that isn’t genuine. Eli has never been the greatest at articulating his thoughts verbally either, so TRYING to apologize for each individual thing he did to Demetri would be extremely hard for him, and Demetri knows this. This is why he accepts Eli’s apology without question and doesn’t expect him to elaborate on it. He knows Eli’s communicating a lot more than he’s actually saying aloud, if that makes any sense, and he cares more about the entirety of what Eli’s trying to say rather than just the spoken part. And Eli definitely communicates he’s genuinely remorseful through his actions as well--saving Demetri from the Cobras, teaming up with Demetri afterwards to help Deme’s side win the fight, straight up openly  BETRAYING Kreese and Cobra Kai AT GREAT PERSONAL RISK TO HIMSELF (especially if Tory’s threat is anything to go by!!!) in order to go back to Demetri. Honestly, given everything he knows about Eli and how he operates, expresses himself, and communicates, I highly doubt Demetri expects at all for Eli to go on a long, detailed rant about how sorry he is and is honestly just grateful to have Eli back in his life.

~I think at the beginning of the show, Demetri puts a lot of work into helping Eli feel as safe and secure as possible--possibly in part because Eli’s autism makes him feel kinda isolated as a “freak” or “outcast” or what have you. Demetri makes an effort to crack jokes and make Eli laugh when no one else will, possibly to help Eli feel more relaxed and at ease. And Demetri’s reluctance to try out karate could be a kind of misguided overprotectiveness on his part--he’s spent a lot of time building up their own little world for them where he can keep Eli relatively comfortable, and he’s worried anything that interferes with that or shakes up the status quo is going to stress out or overwhelm Eli too much. Demetri wants to keep things as they are, because even if it’s not perfect, and they still get bullied on the regular, at least he KNOWS how best to help Eli and help him feel better (or at least he thinks he does) in their current situation (i.e. “I think we’d rather spend our afternoons playing Crucible Control than getting hit in the face”). If they were put into a drastically different new situation, he WOULDN’T know how he should best assist and support Eli with it, and that scares him a lot--because he’s ALWAYS kind of intuitively known how to help Eli, and the thought of anything changing that makes him terrified that without him, Eli is going to get really hurt somehow.

I think that just about covers everything--might add more stuff if I think of it! Definitely go check out @jackonthelongwalk’s blog for more quality, in-depth autistic Eli content!!!

[sunlightdances]

Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me (Soulmate!AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, feat. platonic Steve, platonic Tony and a brief cameo by Agents of SHIELD. Rating/warnings: T (for language), mentions of PTSD and anxiety, a little angst. Many of our characters being adorably dense. Words: 14,418 (literally why am I like this) Summary: Bucky Barnes’ soul mark appeared on his left arm when he was seventeen years old. His injury and HYDRA took it from him, but does the mark have to physically exist for the connection to take hold? Author’s Note: Post-CA:CW. Assume Tony helped Steve and Bucky get out of Siberia and finds out the truth about his parents from Steve. AU after that. This idea literally came to me when I was shampooing my hair and I wrote a good chunk of it immediately afterwards. This idea has been done before, but I hope you like my take on it! Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes, or canon elements from the movies, tv shows, or comics. All of that belongs to Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission. Reblogs are encouraged!

When Bucky Barnes is seventeen years old, a charcoal black swirl of ivy and leaves appears on his left arm.

He spent a lot of time panicking and then trying to find his soulmate, feeling disappointed almost every time he left a date with flushed cheeks and a charming smile only to remember that they didn’t have a mark, or had one that didn’t match his.

He forgot about it as soon as the war was on - bigger things to worry about then.

He enlisted because he wanted to make something of himself, but there was always the possibility burning in his mind that he might meet them. No matter what persona he tries to put on, he’s a romantic at heart. The singing under his breath, buying flowers for pretty girls, romance paperbacks in his back pocket type.

There’s no semblance of romance in war.

His days are never ending - walking, walking, brief bursts of combat. Shouting orders at his platoon, all of them trying to pretend they were feeling more courageous than they were. Still, he spares a few thoughts for his soulmate. When he takes a bullet to his shoulder in France, he hopes they can’t feel it.

He thought that was the worst it could get. He was wrong.

When he’s half conscious in the snow after falling from the train, praying for someone, anyone, to come looking for him, he feels guilt, and regret, and then doesn’t feel anything at all.

It happens in flashes - a medical exam table, a German accent, a shock to his entire body when all he does is repeat his name, rank, and serial number.

In a brief moment of lucidity, he lifts his left hand. He tries to see the mark, one more time, tries to orient himself with the one thing that’s remained constant for almost the last ten years of his life.

It isn’t there.

His arm, gone. The leafy scrawl with it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, to no one, to someone, and then it all goes black.

.

The sun streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows of the guest room you’ve been assigned is the first thing that wakes you, followed shortly by a disembodied voice calling your name. You have a brief moment of panic, sitting upright in bed, until you remember where you are.

Avengers Tower.

“Miss?” The kind voice inquires again.

“Sorry. Yes, I’m here, sort of,” you reply, looking-- where do you look when you’re talking to an AI?

“Captain Rogers is requesting your presence in the third floor kitchen.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in a half hour,” you reply.

“He said to tell you no matter your response that you have fifteen minutes.”

You scowl. “Awesome,” you mutter, swinging your legs over the side of the plush mattress. “Tell him I’ll get there when I get there, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

FRIDAY is silent, but you suspect the message has been delivered. Yawning, you walk to the en suite bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. Hair? A rat’s nest. Skin? Could not look more dull. You really need to get more sleep, you think, but apparently that’s not going to start today.

Twenty minutes later, you step out of the glass elevator and into the brightly lit kitchen. There’s not many people milling about, and you discover why when you come across a clearly agitated Captain Steve Rogers at the large table, leg bouncing and chewing on the end of a pen.

“Morning,” you say when you get within earshot.

“You’re late.”

“You never told me we had an appointment,” you point out, swiping a muffin from the large plate in the middle of the table where he’s sitting, and slide into the seat across from him.

“I asked you to come here for a few days, didn’t I?” He looks up, revealing dark circles and day-old stubble. He’s got a pile of papers on the table in front of him, and a cup of half-drank coffee off to one side.

You hum in agreement, “And you’ve been very secretive about it all. Barely gave me time to pack a bag.” A wink, so he knows you’re (mostly) joking. “Not very gentlemanly, Captain.”

“Bucky’s arriving today.” He blurts, and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Steve--” You breathe, suddenly understanding his nervousness.

“I sent Sam to get him a week ago, if he even wanted to come back to New York.” He smiles, but it’s weak. “Figured it might do some good to have someone… non-partial around.”

“This is…” You shake your head, “Wow, Steve. This is good, right?”

He exhales. “It’s-- yeah. More than good.” He meets your eyes, “I need you to give him a physical, just a regular check up. Protocol.”

You’re already nodding. “I’ll get the lab set up, although are you sure you don’t want Dr. Cho--”

“I want it to be you,” Steve explains, “You’re-- well, I think he’d like you, that’s all.” You must be blushing because he quickly backtracks. “I just mean that you’re a friend! My friend. He’ll trust you because I do.”

“Jeepers, Steve,” you tease, “Getting my heart all aflutter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll have FRIDAY let you know when he’s settled? Don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You nod. “I get it. Just let me know.” Impulsively, you get out of your chair and hug Steve from behind, sort of wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m really happy for you.”

He squeezes your hands, a long breath leaving him like he’s been holding it for awhile. “Thank you.”

It’s hours before you’re summoned, and you feel strangely nervous. You don’t really know what to expect. Sure, as trauma-nurse turned Avengers in-house care, you obviously know who Bucky Barnes is, and what he means to Steve Rogers. You were beginning to think you’d never meet him, though.

You follow voices until you get to your “office”, which is really just an open-air lab not dissimilar to the one Dr. Banner has for himself down the hall. Yours is less tech-savvy, though. You have office hours like any other doctor, and typically don’t live at the Tower unless a mission is wrapping up, or you’re on call.

You semi-retired after everything went down with SHIELD, but had been part of Steve’s team there, so you’re sort of contracting for the Avengers whenever things are scary enough that they need a full time physician.

Turning a corner, you see the back of Steve’s head as he sits in a chair across from the imposing figure that must be James Barnes.

You clear your throat and try to make your footsteps a little louder so you don’t interrupt them, but then remember they’re both super soldiers. They definitely have already heard you coming.

Steve greets you by name and introduces you to Bucky, who surprises you with a quick smile and a handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, his voice somehow gruff and gentle all at the same time.

“You too,” you say. “Steve’s filled me in on the basics, but this is just a physical so we have your information on file. Nothing invasive, no needles, and nothing gets touched unless you say so, okay?”

He looks like he wants to smirk at your wording, but you can tell he’s a little tense and nervous too. You’ve thought about what to say to him and how to do this exam. You know he’s spent most of his life doing things without his consent, including receiving whatever poor medical care he was given.

“Whatever you say,” he agrees, and hops up on the exam table when you ask him to.

The entire exam only takes about ten minutes, until the only thing you have left to ask about is the arm. You sneak a glance at Steve, who’s chewing on his bottom lip. He gives you a small nod, so you take a deep breath and turn back to Bucky.

“I have to ask you a few questions about this.” You tell him, gesturing towards his left arm.

He flinches, barely noticeable if you weren’t standing right in front of him. “What do you want to know?” He leans in, voice conspiratorial, and whispers, “This isn’t my real arm.”

You’re momentarily stunned, but a breathless laugh escapes. Okay. Maybe this isn’t going to be as awful as you worried it might be, for him or for you.

.

Later, you’re in the kitchen with Steve and Sam, a glass of wine in front of each of you as you pick at your dinner. The rest of the Avengers are on a small mission, Falcon and Cap staying behind to look after the newest member of their team.

They don’t say it, but they’re worried.

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY interrupts, “Sergeant Barnes is experiencing some distress.”

The three of you stand, but Steve waves you off. “It’s a nightmare,” he says. “I’ll take care of it.” He takes a few steps and stops, not turning around. “FRIDAY will let you know if I need help.”

Sam’s face is tight with worry when he sits back down with you.

“What’s your take on this, Sam?” You ask, “Really. Honest assessment.”

“I think he needs help,” Sam says, and for a second you’re not sure if he means Steve, or Bucky. “He’s been through a lot. He’s a lot better physically, and some mentally, too. But there’s still-- it’s PTSD. He’s been a combat soldier for 70 years of his life, a POW. You can’t recover from that in a few months or even a few years.”

“I’ll try to help if I can,” you reassure him. “If he’ll let me.”

Sam stands up to leave, probably to check on Steve. He squeezes your shoulder as he walks behind you. “I know you will. Thanks, kid.”

You don’t respond, not even to dispute him acting like he’s so much older than you. Your brain is too busy trying to figure out what to do next.

.

The next few weeks go by in a similar fashion. You take up semi-permanent residence at the Tower.

Bucky sticks to his room a lot, though you see him sparring with Steve or hanging out with Sam in the common room a few times.

He doesn’t seek you out, and you don’t bother him except for subtly asking FRIDAY to let you know if he’s experiencing any distress that requires medical attention.

Now, you’re in the kitchen with Steve, eating at the large island and watching him warily. “Steve. You’re pacing.”

“I know I’m pacing.”

You set your fork down. “Why are you pacing?”

“I’m taking Bucky to Brooklyn today.”

You blink, eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s-- wow, that’s great! Was it your idea, or--”

“It was his, actually.” Steve stops pacing long enough to meet your eyes. “I’m a little worried it might be too much once we get there. Once he sees how much has changed…” He trails off. “I remember when I first went back. It was too much all at once.”

“Can I offer you some non-professional advice? As a friend?”

Steve still looks wary, but he nods.

“You gotta have a little faith in him, Steve. He’s been through a lot, yes. You’re still learning who he is right now. But he was in Wakanda for a year. Recovering only half of that time. He’s had time to catch up, to figure out how to be a person with agency. If he says he wants to do this, he probably does. You have to trust him.”

A movement from the doorway catches your attention and you flush when you see Bucky come into the kitchen slowly, looking a little sheepish. Damn these supersoldiers and their stealth. “Uh-- sorry to interrupt. Bad time?”

Steve smiles, though it’s a little shaky. “No, just talking to Doc here about coming with us to Brooklyn today.”

Your eyes widen as you whip around to face Steve, who sends you a pleading look quickly before Bucky sees him.

“Oh.” Bucky looks a little disappointed, but you don’t take it personally.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say, “I know you had plans with Steve,”

Bucky waves a hand, “No, it’s fine, really. Could probably use someone around to make sure we don’t kill each other.”

You and Steve both freeze, and Bucky looks back and forth between you. “That was a joke.”

You’re the first to smile, and you’re doing it mostly for Bucky’s benefit, but also in hopes that Steve will relax a little bit. You know it’s not healthy for him to be this worried all the time. You also know that Bucky will never truly be at ease if Steve doesn’t start treating him like his friend again.

“I guess if I’m going to get a tour, I couldn’t ask for better guides,” you say, heading out to grab a jacket and your wallet.

A half hour later, you’re getting off the subway and heading into one of Brooklyn’s old neighborhoods. Bucky appears outwardly calm, but you could see how tense he was when you were on the train, and the way his eyes darted around cooly, mapping out all the entrances and exits. It’s the same thing you see Sam and Steve do, maybe more subtly, when you go out with them.

They all do it, really. The Avengers are battle weary already, and you wish you could give that sense of calm back to them.

“I’m going to grab a coffee,” you tell Steve and Bucky as you mill about on the street. You get the idea that neither of them has thought this through very much - they don’t really know where to go first. “Do you want anything?”

“Two black coffees. Is that okay?” Steve says, looking at Bucky.

“Add a little sugar to Steve’s. He won’t complain but he’ll make a face every time he takes a drink.” Bucky says, and you snort.

“Good to know.”

Five minutes later, you’re interrupting what looks like a serious conversation between the two men with a cautious smile, and with Steve scrambling to grab the coffee carrier out of your hands before you have to juggle three cups.

“Where to?” You ask once they’re both happily sipping hot coffee, Bucky only looking mildly uncomfortable.

“I don’t really know,” Bucky admits. “Guessing our old building isn’t there anymore?”

Steve smiles. “It is, actually. We can go there first if you want.”

You follow behind them on the sidewalk as they reminisce about places they used to go, people they used to know. It’s not sad, more nostalgic, and you’re content to listen to them talk as you sip your coffee.

Bucky shoves Steve lightly as he starts to point out all the places he used to get beat up. “That alley,” Steve points, “and behind that butcher shop--”

“I think she gets it.”

You laugh, “Tony should make landmark signs. We can put them in all your favorite places,” you tease, and Steve glares.

“You’re hilarious.”

You pull on his arm when Bucky suddenly stops right in front of him, keeping Steve from plowing straight into his friend’s back. You feel the mood shift and know this must be the place.

Bucky rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. “Huh. Smaller than I remember.” His voice is a little less confident than it was this morning. You stare at the building with him, trying to picture what it might have looked like decades ago. “This place was a shithole when we lived here--”

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims, but he’s laughing too, turning to face his friend almost for the first time all day. You’re giggling too, and Bucky shakes his head, his smile a little smaller, but still there.

“What? We were poor.” He shuffles his feet a little. “I loved it here. No better place than that apartment.” He inhales sharply before meeting Steve’s gaze, “Wait, no one-- we don’t know anyone who still--”

“No,” Steve says quietly, carefully. “No one we know still lives here. I checked when I first got out of the ice.”

Bucky nods. “I don’t-- I don’t want to know about them yet. Any of them.”

You assume he’s talking about his family, and whoever might still be alive. You feel like you’re intruding on a private conversation, so you busy yourself taking a few photos for your Instagram -- you’re not too shy to admit that this neighborhood is lovely. Old brick buildings and shops with lots of flowers blooming.

(And if you sneak a photo that has the back of Bucky and Steve standing there, shoulder to shoulder… well that’s nobody’s business)

In hindsight, you and Steve should have seen this night coming. The memories prove to be too much for Bucky, and the entire floor nearly shakes over your head when he has an episode in the middle of the night, spurred by nightmares and twisted memories of his family.

Footsteps speed by your doorway and you hear FRIDAY asking you to stay in your room, but you don’t listen. You’re too worried, despite the racing of your heart telling you that this is a bad idea.

You open the door just in time to see Steve sprinting down the hall towards the stairs. He must hear your door (or your heart, you think idly), because he turns to you. An authoritative, “No,” is all you get from him before he’s gone, apparently taking the stairs four at a time.

Not content to be left on the sidelines, you head downstairs to the lab, pausing just long enough to throw your hair into a bun and slip your glasses on, grabbing a sweatshirt off a hook by your door. You have no idea if you’ll be seeing Bucky tonight, but you want to be prepared just in case, even though you think Bruce and Dr. Cho are going to take the lead on his care while he’s here.

Forty-five minutes go by before you hear footsteps, and Steve and Bucky come trudging in. Steve has a black eye, and Bucky seems content to stare at his own feet.

“Steve--” You’re about to ask him to let you look at the bruising, but he holds up a hand to stop you. You’re suddenly filled with dread, wondering if Bucky is wholly himself, but you find it hard to believe Steve would have brought him down here at all if he wasn’t.

“I’m fine.” He smiles at you weakly, “Can you…” He trails off, looking at his best friend.

“I need something to help me sleep.” Bucky finishes, voice rough. “Preferably without dreams.”

You pause, “I can’t guarantee anything,” you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile, “But I can try.”

“Thanks.” Steve sounds exhausted, but Bucky looks worse.

“Can I have a minute alone?” You ask Bucky, but the question is really for Steve. Bucky tenses, and you rush to clarify, “Just want to chat about how we can help you get better sleep. Figured you might be more comfortable without an audience, but Steve can stay if you want him to.”

The two men have a silent conversation before Steve nods, reaching for your hand to give it a squeeze before he leaves you and Bucky alone.

It’s a few minutes before Bucky relaxes enough to talk. You busy yourself taking his vitals even though you know you could just ask FRIDAY to give you the rundown. It gives you something manual to do, so you don’t have to just stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

You look up in surprise. “Me? No, I-- you--”

“I know it-- I woke you up.”

You shake your head. “I was awake anyway.”

Bucky cocks his head in question, so you keep talking.

“I have a hard time sleeping. Did Steve tell you much about me? What I did-- before?”

“He said you’re a nurse.”

You nod. “I was a trauma nurse at a hospital nearby. That’s how Steve and I met.” You hesitate before the next part, but you feel like he’ll handle it okay. “I was working the day SHIELD fell. When he was brought in, I was in the ER.”

Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see the guilt swimming there.

You smile, “Turns out a nurse isn’t super necessary for a super soldier.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I suppose not.”

“My job mostly turned into babysitting. He kept trying to leave before he was fully healed, and we really had no idea how long he was going to be there. None of the rules applied to him, and he was way more focused on getting out to look for you.”

Bucky looks down, gunmetal hand whirring slightly as he fiddles with it. “Sounds like Steve.”

“Anyway, after I managed to put up with Steve and Sam for a whole two weeks,” you wink at Bucky, “Steve offered me a job. Thought they could use a medic around. I’d been wanting to get out of the hospital anyway. Some days were… hard.” You try your best not to let the memories get the better of you. “Turns out Bruce is a great doctor but not when he’s-- the other guy.”

Bucky nods, seemingly finding his resolve. He takes a deep breath, “I thought I could handle today. I felt good when we were there. Like I could almost forget--” he waves his hand around vaguely. “You know.”

You nod slowly. “In my experience, recovery isn’t always a straight line.”

Bucky is quiet, but you take that as a signal to keep going.

“I definitely still have days where I can’t see the lights of an ambulance without my heart rate speeding up. I have nightmares, and sometimes when the team is gone on a mission, I’m so anxious thinking about what’s happening to them I can barely breathe.” You force yourself to keep talking, “And then there’s some days where I’m calm. I can handle it, and I feel fine.”

You look up at him so you can look directly into his eyes. He’s already looking at you, and for a second, you feel a zip of awareness hit you in your gut.

“I’ve got something for you. It’ll help you sleep, but it’s really strong.” Quieter, you add, “Don’t tell Steve, but Bruce and Tony developed this for him years ago. He won’t ever admit to having nights like you’ve had. This seemed to help him.” You reach over on the table for a pill bottle and press it into Bucky’s palm. “Read the directions. Don’t take more than one.”

“Yes ma’am.” He murmurs. “Thank you.”

After a brief awkward moment, he leaves the room, and you can hear his quiet footsteps down the hall until the ding of the elevator signals him going back upstairs.

A few moments later, Steve is in your line of vision, and he doesn’t say anything, just gives you this look and it completely breaks your heart.

Wordlessly, you hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers, and he takes it willingly, threading your fingers together. Pulling him close, you stand shoulder to shoulder with the super soldier, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you both pull your thoughts together.

“I knew this was going to be hard,” he says, voice low. “I just didn’t-- I hate seeing him in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

“I know, Steve.” You don’t have any answers, so you don’t try to give him one. “You need to try to rest.” You tell him instead.

“So do you,” he replies stubbornly.

“One day at a time, Steve.” You remind him.

“Yeah.” He sighs, wiping his free hand over his face. “Yeah, I know.”

When you get to your bedroom that night, you’re exhausted. It’s quiet above you, and you keep replaying the night’s events over and over.

Out of everything, one moment stands out to you - that potent moment of eye contact with Bucky Barnes. You can still feel the electricity crackling through you as you remember it.

That can’t be good.

.

“Any time, Cap,” Tony’s voice, out of breath, comes through the comms. You’re watching anxiously from your lab in the Tower, wondering again how you got roped into this.

“I’m busy,” Steve replies haughtily, and you hear the sound of two bodies hitting the floor. “On my way.”

The sound of fighting rings out, and you try to subtly eye the man next to you, his posture similar to yours - arms crossed, brow furrowed.

“Do they always argue this much on a mission?” Bucky wonders aloud, and you snort.

“I’ve only been involved in a few, but in my experience: yes.”

The mission is otherwise pretty smooth - Steve and Tony are more than capable of handling a few rogue Hydra thugs on their own, and you’re relieved when Tony lets you know over the comms that they’re headed back, objective complete.

You glance at Bucky next to you, who still stares at the screens.

“This must be a little overwhelming…” you start, not really sure how much you should press.

He shrugs. “Just different. The last time I planned any type of mission I was in olive drab and all I ever had to do was say yes, sir.”

You’re still surprised with how candid he’s being, willingly offering up details about his past, those he can remember, at least.

“Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers have docked.” FRIDAY’s voice interrupts your musing, and you nod at Bucky, who leaves the room to go meet them. He brushes past you, and you feel another zip of awareness when he does, shaking your head to get rid of the feeling.

He’s your patient. You absolutely cannot, will not allow yourself to feel anything other than a clinical attraction to the man. He deserves better than that, and you can’t afford to be distracted, not when he needs your help and is depending on you to get better.

Just earlier that day, you sat down with Steve and Tony for a quick briefing to better plan for the days ahead in terms of Bucky’s recovery and his place with the team.

Steve is tense, rightly so, and Tony is firm, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dark as he looks at the files in front of the three of you.

“You’re saying there’s no way to know if the trigger words are actually deactivated.” Tony asks, though it’s not really phrased as a question.

“I’m saying there might be other triggers. Not just the words, though Shuri insists those are moot. He’s got PTSD, Tony.”

“Yeah, well. Join the club.” Tony mutters, looking out the window. You can’t imagine how difficult this is for him. You know as well as everyone else does that Barnes was responsible for the Starks’ deaths. You’re surprised Tony okayed Bucky’s arrival here at all, though he does have a heart. He knows Bucky was brainwashed, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Steve doesn’t say anything. You get the idea he’s worried to say the wrong thing -- he admitted to you once that he’s obviously biased where Bucky’s concerned. He doesn’t know how to be Bucky’s ally and Tony’s friend at the same time.

“All this is, is a plan for if the worst happens.” You hold up your hand quickly, stopping Steve before he responds, “I’m not saying we’ll ever have to use this, but we have evacuation plans for everything else, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be prepared for him to relapse. Even if the Soldier is out of his head, there’s still a chance his memories will get the best of him and he’ll have an episode.” You say the last part quietly, meeting Steve’s concerned gaze.

“We don’t even know if he’s going to want to have anything to do with the Avengers,” he acknowledges. “After all this time… for all I know he wants to lay low.”

Tony nods. “If he does… we won’t have him on any field missions until we’re sure he can handle it. Until then he stays here, helps Hill with the comms and he can…” Tony gestures wildly, “I don’t know, be strategic backup or something.”

That option had proved to be more than okay with Bucky, though he acknowledged he didn’t really have any say in the matter. He just wanted to be useful.

In the weeks that follow, he fills in for Maria Hill when she’s called away for other Stark Industries work, and takes to running the team like he was born to do it.

“It’s the squad leader in me,” he tells you one day, a grin on his face. “Though the lot of you are a lot easier to deal with than Army brats.”

He even helps Steve train some new recruits when the opportunity presents itself. Overall, his recovery is on track to be even shorter than you expected. Sure, there are still moments where he loses himself in a memory or has to be shaken awake in the middle of the night when things get to be too much. But you know every single other person in the Tower struggles that way too.

You’re mostly enjoying getting to know James Barnes the person, and not The Winter Soldier, the enigma, even if it is getting harder and harder to ignore the butterflies that take flight in your stomach every time he enters a room you’re in.

You’re killing time in the lab when Tony saunters in, startling you with his Iron Man gear half-on.

“What are you doing?”

“Need a hand,” he says, drawing out the word as he waves at you, thruster firmly in place on his left hand.

“Terrible.” You mutter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just miscalculated the power of the new thruster and sort of… fused it to my hand.” He says the last part quickly, and you blink at him.

“I’m sorry. I heard that wrong.”

He grins cheerily. “Nothing wrong with your ears! Now--” He claps his hands together with a metallic clang, “-- You got anything for burns?”

Bucky wanders in sometime after you’ve finally gotten Tony to sit down. He watches warily, stopping before entering the room completely, a little curious. “Don’t mean to interrupt,” he says quietly, “but what the fuck is going on?”

Even Tony smiles at that, Bucky’s blunt tone a sure sign he’s had a decent day, as far as moods go. “Experimentation gone wrong,” he says brightly. “Doc’ll get me sorted.”

You glare at him. “I’m not a surgeon. Stop giving me surgeons’ work to do.”

You’re gently trying to pull the round piece of metal from Tony’s palm without completely frying his nerves. Coincidentally, the entire thing is destroying your own nerves in the process.

“Need a hand?” Bucky asks, pulling up a stool.

Tony snorts. “That’s what I said.”

You’re very aware of the heat emanating from Bucky’s side as he watches you work. Normally you wouldn’t let someone this close while you’re essentially performing surgery, but you think idly that it might be a good idea to have a third party here in case Tony starts complaining that you’re trying to butcher him.

“What I need--” you say through grit teeth, “-- is for both of you to shut up and let me work.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky says with a smile.

Tony raises his eyebrows in delight at the exchange, but you ignore him.

“Hold still,” you murmur after a few minutes, and when you glance up, relieved that there’s quiet finally, you see a few beads of sweat on Tony’s brow. He’s frowning at his own hand, and you think he’s finally starting to grasp how serious this could have been. “Honestly--” You huff, “Now you’re getting squeamish?”

“I didn’t think about the part where you’d actually have to yank it off,” Tony says defensively.

“I’ve got as much of the metal out as I can, so hopefully I can just…” you mime ripping it off with your free hand.

His eyes widen. “No you will not.”

Bucky sits back, arms folded across his chest with an amused grin at the billionaire.

“There’s nothing for it, Tony. Like a bandaid.”

“Can’t be worse than when I had to give myself stitches in the middle of the woods in Belgium with some dental floss,” Bucky says off-handedly, and both you and Tony stare at him, mouths agape.

“This is the twenty-first century!” Tony protests, gritting his teeth, “This isn’t the fucking Battle of the Bulge, Grandpa!”

“And, three.” You say with finality, lifting the remnants of the Iron glove off Tony’s palm, having used his outrage at Bucky’s bad attempt at bedside manner as a distraction to do the hard part. “Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.” You say primly as he hands you a piece of gauze that had been waiting nearby.

“Devious.” Tony remarks as you wrap his palm. “What’s the damage?”

“You need to keep it clean or it’ll get infected. No more experimenting.”

You let Tony go with the promise - or threat - to tell Pepper about this, and then it’s just you and Bucky there as you clean up.

“Does that happen often?”

You glance over your shoulder at him, “More often than I’d like. He thinks he’s invincible.”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth tilt up. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

You’re momentarily fascinated by how much younger he looks when he smiles, but you force yourself to look away and go back to cleaning up the tray you had supplies on. “Did you need anything?” You ask, remembering how he wandered in on his own nearly an hour ago.

He flushes, scratching the back of his neck. “Just some company.” He admits.

It sends a thrill through you.

“It’s nice to talk to someone who has no idea who I am. Or who I’m supposed to be.” He says, the last part barely a whisper.

You feel so much for him at this moment. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and still, the man manages to crack jokes whenever he can, and is, on the outside, not completely overwhelmed with being in a new place, finally in his own head.

“I think I’ll head back to bed.” He says, a small smile on his face. “This was… interesting.” He grins. On his way past you to the door, he reaches out briefly and squeezes your free hand. You think he might not even realize he’s done it.

You almost drop the tools in your hand when you realize what’s happened -- the mark on your arm, the one you try so diligently to cover up, is burning.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur to yourself.

.

You avoid Bucky for weeks after that. You see him in a strictly professional capacity, and you feel like the biggest bitch on the planet for it, but you have no idea what to do with yourself.

After he left you in the lab that night, you inspected your well-hidden mark, trying to figure out why it was suddenly coming to life after years. It was a dull pink color, like you’d been rubbing at it, and even though you refused to accept it, you knew deep down what that meant.

You have no one to ask about it. No one at all.

Soul marks are rare, and they’re rarer still among the bunch you live with. Steve doesn’t have a mark, nor does Sam. You don’t feel like putting up with the shit you’ll get from Tony or Pepper if you try to ask them about theirs.

You’ve read enough about the bond to recognize it for what it is, but your brain is still stuck on one fact - Bucky Barnes doesn’t have a mark. Not that you’ve seen, and not that he’s mentioned.

It occurs to you then that the worst case could be true - you could be his, but he might not be yours. What a nightmare. As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with after quite literally coming back to life. Throwing an unreciprocated soulmate into the mix? No. You won’t do it.

So you avoid him.

You even go out of your way to liaison with the new SHIELD for two weeks, as part of a new partnership Steve and Tony were reluctantly part of with the recently-still-alive Phil Coulson.

“Are you sure you want to go? They have a doctor.” Steve asks as he carries your duffel to the dock as you await the arrival of SHIELD’s quinjet.

“They have a scientist,” you remind him. “They wouldn’t have asked for help if they really didn’t need it.”

Steve scowls, still a little perturbed that a man he considered a friend couldn’t even let them know he was alive, let alone that he was resurrecting SHIELD.

“We need to know what they’re working on, anyway.” You say. “Plus, it’s good networking.”

Steve shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Still. What if--” He stops himself, looking away as you reach the hangar. “What if we need you?”

“Then you’ll call, and I’ll have them fly me back.”

You hear what he’s really asking - what if Bucky needs you? You considered it. But you think you need the distance more than being around and avoiding him. He hasn’t needed you in any urgent way in weeks, anyway.

“Fine. But make sure Coulson knows he’s still on my shit list.”

“Steve Rogers!” You gasp. “He’ll be broken-hearted to hear that.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you’re interrupted by incoming engines, and watch as the quinjet flies smoothly into the hangar.

You’re surprised at how young the team is. Not much younger than you, sure, but still. They’re watching Steve with something like awe in their eyes.

“Captain Rogers.” Coulson says, descending the ramp and holding out his hand tentatively. “It’s good to see you.” He’s sincere, that much is obvious.

“Coulson.” Steve’s tone is curt, but he shakes the man’s hand anyway.

After an awkward pause, Steve turns to you, introducing you.

“This is Agent May, Fitz, Simmons, and Daisy.” Coulson says, and you smile at each member in turn. “We’re looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You grin at him. It seems impossible to be anything less than genial with Phil Coulson, though Steve is doing his best to prove otherwise, and Tony hasn’t even bothered to leave his office to greet the new arrivals.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece.” Phil tells Steve.

“The alternative isn’t an option.” Steve replies, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, that’s enough. Bye, Steve. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

His expression softens, and you know he’s just being protective in that big-brotherly way of his.

As you’re boarding the jet, you see movement out of the corner of your eye, and see Bucky back in the shadows, leaning against the wall as he watches you leave. You bite your lip in frustration, knowing that leaving after ignoring him is a cowardly move. Still, it’s the only option you can think of while you try to sort this out.

After taking off, Phil turns to you.

“He hates me, doesn’t he.” There’s something like despair in his voice.

You sigh. “They thought you were dead.”

“Technically I was.”

He fills you in on the whole story as you fly to their base, and when you land, you take the first minute you can to get Jemma Simmons alone.

“I was hoping you could tell me more about soul marks. I know you’ve done some research--”

She smiles at you, putting you at ease. “What questions do you have?”

.

Bucky watches the jet take off, a hollow feeling in his chest. He can’t figure out what he did to drive you away so thoroughly.

Steve stands there with his arms crossed for a few minutes before turning back, shaking his head.

“You trust them?” Bucky asks, and Steve pauses.

“I do.” He sighs, then looks at his friend. “Are you worried?”

Bucky scoffs. “Am I worried that she ignored me for two weeks and then fucked off with a bunch of people I don’t know?”

Steve’s grin is slow, lazy. “Careful, Buck. Sounding awfully protective.”

Bucky scowls. “Shut up.”

One thing that has absolutely not changed since the 40s is Steve’s propensity to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, and lately that’s been evident in the way he’s been trying to needle out what exactly Bucky is feeling for the good doctor.

He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling.

She’s-- smart. She’s smart and she’s funny, and she’s beautiful, but it’s not like he would ever act on it. She’s his doctor. Probably the closest thing to a best friend Steve has. Bucky’s not going to fuck that up just because he’s noticed that she smells like vanilla and when the sun hits her face just right-- well. He’s not going to fuck it up.

Besides, he clearly made her uncomfortable when he told her it was nice to be around her. That she understood him, in some way that Steve didn’t. That clearly freaked her out.

He would laugh if it wasn’t happening to him. Scared a woman away so thoroughly that she literally got on a jet and took off.

He sighs and follows Steve back to the common area where a few of the others are lingering. They want a report on SHIELD, no doubt.

Bucky is going to do some digging of his own. SHIELD, for obvious reasons, has left the taste of ash in his mouth, and he’ll never forgive himself if it turns out that they’re some kind of HYDRA cell using a familiar face to get close to the Avengers again.

Not to mention his favorite doctor would be caught in the middle of it, and he can’t have that.

He feels… he feels good. It’s unfamiliar. But really, minor episodes and nightmares aside, he feels more like himself than he has in decades. There were brief moments when he was lucid enough in Hydra to remember who he was and where he was, but he thinks being brainwashed was… not a blessing, he’s not stupid enough to consider it that, but the alternative… having to be himself while he did those things… it would have killed him.

Now, he finally has choices.

His first choice was deciding to accept Steve’s help and friendship, and his second choice was to trust you.

He thinks that should mean something.

He thinks back to a moment from a few weeks back, shortly after the Brooklyn trip. You didn’t treat him like he was broken, and he appreciated it more than he could say. So much so that he invited you back to Brooklyn with him, to one of his favorite diners from when he was growing up.

He’s so happy to see it still exists that he can’t wait to have a meal there. Steve is busy, and you just-- the way you smile at him when he asks you to go, he knows he’s made the right call.

“James Barnes?” The older woman at the counter looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“That’s me,” he says, trying to smile. He has no idea how people are going to react to him wherever he goes.

“I’ll be damned,” she whispers. “My grandmother… she used to tell me stories about you and Captain Rogers.”

He smiles. “Good ones, I hope?”

“Only good ones. My grandmother was Ruth Kelley.”

The name fires some synapse in Bucky’s brain that hasn’t been used in years. Suddenly he’s nineteen, sharing a malt with Ruthie at the counter while she was on her lunch break, trying to pretend he’s not pulling out all the stops to make her laugh.

“You look just like her,” he stutters, and she does - the same eyes, the same kind smile.

“Thank you.” She whispers. “Anything you want, on the house today.”

Bucky tries to protest, but you stop him.

“Let her do this for you,” you say quietly.

Bucky nods and the two of you sit in a booth, his mind still working overtime trying to believe that all the pieces of his life could come full circle like this.

“An old flame?” You ask, lifting a mug of coffee to your lips, and Bucky finds himself entranced by the playful look on your face.

“Something like that.” He murmurs. “She grew up in the same building as Steve and I. Used to come bother her while she worked. That family was the best. They’d give us free slices of pie every so often…” He trails off. “Never saw her again before I shipped out.”

You’re quiet, a look on your face he can’t identify. “You must have meant a lot to her. If she told her granddaughter about you.”

He turns to watch Ruth’s granddaughter busy herself behind the counter, her movements so similar to Ruth’s that for a horrible moment, he thinks he might cry too.

On the way back to the Tower, you loop your arm through his, so casually, the touch coming so easy for you, it throws Bucky for a loop. It’s not unwelcome - you’re warm through your jacket, and Bucky hasn’t realized how much he missed human contact until this moment.

He thinks it should be concerning, how quickly you’re inserting yourself in his life. He tells himself it’s purely professional, but he knows it’s a lie.

The annoyingly knowing looks he’s been getting from Steve and Sam seem to suggest that too, not to mention the not-so-subtle threatening from Tony.

He’s drawn to you, and it scares him a little, while at the same time it feels like it’s just… right. He tried to surreptitiously get a look at your left arm the first time he thought… but to no avail. He hadn’t seen a mark. Certainly not one like he remembers, not one that he hoped to see, as fleeting as the thought had been at the time. But he told himself it didn’t matter. His own parents weren’t soulmates, but they loved each other.

Peggy and Steve didn’t have marks either, but they loved each other til the end. It doesn’t matter. Although, truth be told, it won’t matter at all if you stop talking to him completely.

Trying to get his mind off you, he seeks out his friends, finding them in the common area. No sooner has he made himself comfortable on the couch next to Sam then there’s an alarm blaring somewhere, and all his senses fire to life.

Steve is on his feet immediately, as is Tony, tapping away at his tablet as he tries to figure out what’s wrong.

“Steve?” Sam asks, body rigid.

“Suit up,” Steve says immediately. “Tony and I will do threat assessment.”

“Already done,” Tony chirps. “Fun - intruders!”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he’s already moving, striding towards the doors to the command center and sliding a headset on his head - he feels more at home here than he thought he would.

“Check in when you’ve got comms,” he says distractedly, tapping away at the screen in front of him until he pulls up a couple cameras of the lower floors.

He spares a thought to be grateful that you’re not here right now, as he watches a team of men in black bust through the doors to the lab. “Lower two floors. I count eight, maybe ten operatives.”

“On it,” Steve says in his ear, and Bucky watches as his friend skips the elevator and instead launches himself down over the railing.

“Idiot.” He mutters.

“I can hear you.”

He smirks. “Tony, there’s a few more on the outside trying to get in,” he confirms, hearing the now-familiar sound of thrusters as Tony takes off from the launchpad outside the penthouse.

“More company incoming,” Tony replies, and Bucky can hear the sound of an engine through the comms.

Gunfire suddenly erupts almost directly outside the room Bucky’s in, the reinforced glass holding, but Bucky still throws his metal arm above his head and ducks out of instinct.

He knows this is Hydra. This was bound to happen, with Bucky living here. The Asset would never be allowed to live with everything he knows.

Bucky grimaces. “I’m going to need to get to the armory.”

Sam’s voice is next, “Negative, big guy. You’re going to stay right where you are, or else no one else has eyes on us.”

“Seconded.” Steve says firmly.

“I’m kind of a sitting duck up here.” Bucky protests. “This is seventy years of sniper training going to waste,” he adds, and Steve audibly sighs in his ear.

“Take an MG, that’s it.” He says, and Bucky snorts.

“You think I’d try to grab an alien gun? I’m not as stupid as you remember.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply as he heads out the door, eyes scanning this way and that for any potential threats. He hears the fight going on a few floors below, but so far he’s in the clear, and he heads towards the hangar where he can slip in a back entrance to the armory (hopefully) undetected.

“Two headed to you, Buck.” Steve says, sounding out of breath.

“Copy that.” Bucky says, steeling himself for the inevitable fight. He lets himself feel exhausted for approximately one second before he gets to work - his training taking over like he’s on autopilot.

He makes it to the armory door before he’s jumped from behind, though he heard them coming. He knows he can’t let them get inside. He uses their momentum to propel himself forward, flinging one man off his back and sending him careening into the opposite wall.

His other hand rears back out of instinct, delivering a sickening blow to the second man’s face.

Warily, he watches the first man struggle to his feet, a sneer on his face. “Longing.” He says, and Bucky sees red, though not for the reason he suspects the man hopes. “Rusted.”

Bucky pulls back with his metal arm, and delivers one solid punch. “Eat shit.”

Steve comes skidding around the corner a moment or two later, watching the scene in front of him. He clearly heard what the man was trying to do over comms - his face is a mixture of terror and concern.

“Bucky?”

“It’s still me, Steve.”

“Just checking.” He steps over the two men on the floor. “Didn’t need the MG after all?”

“Didn’t make it that far.” Bucky reaches down, straightening the man’s jacket so he can see the insignia for himself. He sighs. “Not going for stealth these days.”

“They’re done fighting in the shadows, or whatever.” Steve replies with a roll of his eyes. “We’ll get them all to lockup - Tony’s got the rest on the roof.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is going to keep happening. As long as I’m here. You know that, right?”

Steve’s face hardens. “Then we’ll keep fighting them. They’re not going to take you again.” The fierceness in his voice makes Bucky want to weep. This is the Steve he remembers.

He helps get the Hydra agents rounded up with the rest of the team, and then retreats to his bedroom. He feels exhausted, even though he didn’t have to do much - even the fight itself wasn’t as awful as it could have been.

He’s just tired of being hunted. He just wants to-- he doesn’t know, really. Be free? It sounds so trite. But he’s got a chance at a better life now, and he’s not going to let anyone take that away from him. Not Hydra, not whoever they decide to send after him next.

That night he has another nightmare, but this time, it’s about you. The look on your face after you see him in action - it sends you even further away from him, and Bucky knows he’ll never get you back, not after this. Not after you’ve seen the Soldier.

When he startles awake, the shame burning in his chest is a living, breathing thing.

He realizes then what you mean to him, or what you could if given the chance.

It doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

.

Jemma Simmons is infinitely patient as she explains the research about soul marks to you. It helps that she has a soulmate of her own, one who has a reciprocating mark.

It doesn’t do a thing to quell your guilt about Bucky, though. You still feel like you’d be trapping him into something. He’s never had much of a choice about anything in his life before, and you don’t want to take this away from him, too.

Trying to distract yourself, you throw yourself into research and analysis with Fitz and Simmons. In the few days you’ve been with SHIELD, you’ve helped them learn more about Daisy’s power and biology, your experience working with Avengers helpful as they try to catalog what she can do and what her limits are.

You plan to head back to Avengers Tower by the end of the week, and head to bed that night feeling like the time away from everything was just what you needed, even if you do have two letters to Steve from Phil in your bag that you’re almost certainly not going to give him.

The man is desperate for his apology to be accepted by his hero.

You’re asleep nearly the minute your head hits the pillow.

Annoyingly, you dream of Bucky. It’s not the dream you’ve had before - holding hands at the diner, or making some grand declaration. This is… darker. More real. It scares you.

Someone is hauling Bucky out of the Tower, and Bucky is nearly incapacitated. Drugged or… worse. You feel a shudder run through you as you watch him smuggled out in the dead of night, knowing there’s nothing you can do to help.

You wake with a gasp, and when you pull up your left sleeve, the mark on your arm is an angry red.

Panic slides through you like ice in your veins, and you’re reaching for your phone before you can begin to make sense of anything.

“Hey. It’s the middle of the night.”

“I need you to check on Bucky.” You tell Steve, your tone urgent.

“What?”

“Just do it, Steve.”

“What’s going on?”

“Steve.”

You hear movement on his end, and listen intently as he leaves his apartment and heads across the hall. “It’s been quiet all night,” he assures you. “We had a run-in today, but other than that…” He trails off, and that’s what sets your heart pounding. “FRIDAY, what time did Bucky leave his apartment?” Steve asks the AI, and you feel your heart plummet.

You don’t hear her reply.

“Steve, listen to me. I think he’s been taken.”

“How the hell did you--”

“I can’t explain it. I need you to come get me. I don’t want to worry anyone here, but I can help.”

“I’ll be wheels up in ten.”

A click, and then the line goes dead.

It feels like hours before you hear a knock on the door in the base, and Phil Coulson is there, looking as worried as you are, though you’re sure he’s picking up on the anxiety coming from Steve, and from having an Avenger in his secret base.

“Steve!”

“He’s gone.” Steve says rapidly, “We had a… brief infiltration today--”

“A what?!”

“Don’t worry about it now. Point is - I think they were a distraction. They needed to figure out how to get in and how to get to Bucky.”

“I can find him.” You grab your bag, trying to push past him and Coulson both to get to the door.

“Wait a minute, slow down, how did you even know he was gone? I don’t understand.”

“We don’t have time for this right now, Steve. Who knows what they’ve done to him or are planning to do.”

“Hey.” Steve’s voice is sharp, drawing you back into focus. “I need you to slow down. Explain this to me like I’m an idiot.”

You glare, but force your breathing to slow. “Something’s wrong. I just-- I can feel it, Steve.”

“How?”

“I think I’m-- his,” you choke out. “I-- he doesn’t have a mark, I know that, but I have one. I’ve had one my whole life, and I’ve never felt--”

Steve exhales hard. “Jesus Christ.” Hands on his hips, he looks back at you. “So… you can sense him? Is that it?”

You nod. “Sort of. I noticed it when we first met. An awareness, really. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought I was being overprotective while he was recovering.”

Steve’s expression clears. “The night he had an episode after we went to Brooklyn. You knew something was wrong before I heard him.”

“Steve, I-- I don’t want him to know. We just need to find him. Everything else… it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that I can help you find him, and we can help him.”

“Okay.” Steve’s voice is sure, full of conviction. “Okay. We get him back, and we worry about the rest later.”

.

“Where are the others?” You ask as you, Steve, and Phil walk as quickly as possible towards the quinjet.

“Tony’s on standby. No point in bringing the full team until we know what we’re up against. I don’t even know where to start looking.” He exhales hard. “What do they even want with him? Without the triggers, there’s no point--”

“Hydra’s been trying to pop up all over the world,” Coulson says. “They’ve taken over several old SHIELD bases, some that we didn’t even know about. They could be trying to use the Asset to bring out whoever’s still in hiding.”

“But he’s not the Soldier anymore.” You say, fierce.

“They don’t know that.” Coulson points out.

At this point, other members of his team have gathered, and you try to keep it together before you have to explain yourself in front of everyone. You’d rather suss this out with Steve, first.

“We’re ready to help if you need it, Captain.” Coulson says, shoulders straight.

Steve watches him carefully, hands on his hips. “We don’t even know where to start looking.”

“Any chance Sergeant Barnes would try to send a signal?” Daisy asks, her voice quiet as she interrupts. “If you know what to look for, we could try to hack into any outgoing Hydra communication channels we know about.”

Steve’s expression clears. “Yeah, he might. If he’s not--”

“He’s not compromised, Steve. I can feel it.” You tell him quietly. Steve stares at you, trying to decide if he can trust this. You don’t blame him - you have no idea if this is going to work either.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Steve says finally.

“You got it, boss.” Daisy says, with a lazy salute, and you watch, amused as her gaze snaps to Coulson. “No offense, Director.”

“None taken. I’m outranked.” He says agreeably.

You sigh in relief at finally having some help. You can’t let anything happen to Bucky. For Steve’s sake, and for your own.

.

Bucky opens his eyes slowly - his eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Immediately he’s on edge. He has a hazy vision of someone breaking down his door, a cloth in his face and him trying to fight them off before he passed out.

Shit, he thinks, Steve’s going to be so pissed. He takes a minute to assess the situation. A dingy, dark room. He’s shackled. Not the most original way he’s ever been held against his will, but whatever.

He spares a thought for you. Do you even know he’s gone? You’re with SHIELD. Steve’s probably trying like hell to keep this from you, so he doesn’t worry you. Bucky feels himself getting angrier the longer he thinks about it - he finally thinks he might be able to work up the nerve to ask you out, or to at least tell you he thinks you’re-- well, it doesn’t matter.

None of it will matter unless he gets out of here.

He feels a little woozy. He wonders what they used to knock him out, because he knows it would take nearly five times a normal amount of anything that would render a normal person unconscious. It makes him a little nervous, but again, it mostly pisses him off.

He tests his left arm - and can’t move. A brief flash of panic runs through him, but he grits his teeth and tells himself to calm down. There’s something in the room - an EMP maybe? Something that’s taken his arm out of commission.

He tests the shackles, and his right arm pulls free.

“Huh.” Suspicious.

The door opens, and in comes one of the two men who greeted him near the armory at the Tower.

“Oh, hello.” Bucky greets.

“Soldat.” The other man says, and Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“What was it I told you earlier? Oh, right. Eat shit.”

“So the rumors are true? The trigger words no longer work. That’s alright, there are other ways to make you comply.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m done taking orders. So you’re wasting your time.”

Bucky does, under it all, wonder what the play is here. He’s basically not held down any more, and they had to know the restraints wouldn’t hold him. So what’s the point? He doesn’t know enough about the Avengers to be a threat to their security, and he’s ninety percent sure that the brainwashing won’t work.

He’s banking on it.

In the back of his mind, there’s a buzzing that lets him know he’s still not completely with it. He also has a gut feeling that Steve is already assembling, or whatever it is he calls it when the Avengers get a mission, so he just has to stall enough to catch this goon off guard and get the hell out of here.

“Well, go on then. Tell me about your nefarious plans.”

That earns him a punch on the jaw, and while it doesn’t hurt really, it pisses him off.

“Alright. I’m tired of this. Tell me what you want, or I’m going to leave, and if I have to kill you to do it, well, that’s just too bad.”

His smile is just a touch too wild to be sane, Bucky thinks, right before he presses something in his right hand. Not an EMP, then, Bucky has a second to think before it feels as if his entire brain is being electrocuted, and then he blacks out.

.

“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” Tony asks Steve the second he lands in the hangar at SHIELD HQ. “Hello,” he says distractedly to the small crowd that’s gathered.

“Bucky’s in trouble.”

“Barnes has been in trouble his entire life.”

“Tony.” You growl, a warning if he’s ever heard one. “We have to help him.”

Tony sighs. “This place is pretty cool, if a little low tech,” he says finally, looking around, his gaze landing on Phil Coulson. “Phil. You’re not dead.”

“Neither are you. Heard it was pretty close for the both of us.”

Tony turns back to you and Steve. “Why am I here but Wilson isn’t?”

“Sam’s already doing recon.” Steve says, his expression hard. “I need you to help with the hacking.”

“Hey!” Daisy protests, not looking up from her laptop. “I don’t need help--”

“I know you,” Tony says. “You hacked SHIELD. They called me about that. I think you owe me an apology.”

She raises an eyebrow. “... anyway. We were able to narrow it down to these two previously unknown SHIELD bases. They’ve been silent for months, but recently had a string of outgoing communications, one of which can be tracked to a location in New York not far from the Tower.”

“He’s around the fucking block and I flew all the way here?”

Steve glares at Tony. “That doesn’t mean it’s where they’ve taken him. Just that they’re operating there.”

“They’ve probably had eyes on him ever since he came back to New York,” you say quietly.

“Christ.” Tony runs a hand over his face. “Alright, get Wilson over there and see what he can shake out. Doc, do you have a plan if Barnes is… compromised?”

You’re quiet. Steve’s quiet. No one really knows what to do if that’s the case. You’re not sure if it’s even possible, not after all the work Shuri did with Bucky’s recovery in Wakanda, but there’s still the possibility… no. You won’t let yourself think about it.

“We could use the containment module.” Agent May says quietly, one of the first things she’s said since you’ve been with SHIELD. “It’s meant to hold the strongest inhumans.”

Tony gets out of the suit eventually and you all start pouring over audio files from the last few days to try to find Bucky.

Eventually, Steve turns to you. “He’s alright?” He asks, softly, worriedly.

You sigh, but at the pained look on his face, you have no other choice. You concentrate as hard as you can, feeling your connection with Bucky like a tether. You’d know if he was gone. Even if it was just his mind.

“I think so.”

Tony gapes. “Does someone want to fill me in, here?”

“They have a connection.” Steve says, flat.

You watch as Tony connects the dots. “Oh, sweet Christ. That explains a lot.”

You glare. “Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes, turning back to the monitor in front of him, muttering. “Making heart eyes at each other across my lab--”

“It could be that only she has the mark. But it shouldn’t diminish the bond,” Simmons says quietly across the table, her eyes not leaving the papers in front of her.

“You told SHIELD before you told me?” Tony asks, incredulous. “I’m wounded.”

“Are they always like this?” Fitz asks Coulson, not so quietly. You can relate - there’s something about seeing that your heroes are just regular people.

“Got him.” Daisy says suddenly, voice hard. “There.” She points at the map.

“Let’s go,” Coulson directs, “we’re wheels up in five.”

“You’re staying here.” Steve tells you, and you immediately stop in your tracks.

“I’m going with you. Are you--”

“This is a rescue mission.”

“And I’m a doctor!” And I’m his soulmate, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Argue later, on the jet now!” May says sharply, throwing a bulletproof vest in your direction. You catch it before you get knocked over with the weight, and slip it on as quick as you can.

On the jet, you watch as Steve Rogers slowly disappears and Captain America takes over, giving orders and preparing for the possibility that the person they’re going to find might no longer be his best friend.

“You’re going to stay on board while we clear the place, got it?”

You scowl, but don’t argue with him, knowing it won’t do you any good. He goes around handing out comms, and everyone checks that they’re working, giving him a thumbs up. Daisy Johnson looks absolutely delighted to be on a mission with Captain America and Iron Man.

It seems like it’s only minutes before you land. Sam is waiting for you when you get there, and squeezes your shoulder as he passes you to confer quietly with Steve and Tony.

“Alright, we’re going to split up into teams.”

While Steve is talking, you’re barely listening, too focused on trying to concentrate on your newly-discovered bond with Bucky to figure out if he’s alright.

“Don’t get any ideas, Doc.” Tony says to you on his way out the door, tapping the comms device in his ears for emphasis as he goes.

You sigh - you hate being sidelined, even if you know Steve is right - you can’t provide the kind of help that they might need.

“Be careful,” you tell the three of them, plus the SHIELD team.

They go down the ramp quickly, leaving you alone with Simmons and Fitz.

.

Bucky hasn’t really been thankful for his advanced hearing in the short time he’s been fully in control of his faculties, but even in the short time he’s been back with Steve, he’d recognize the sound of a quinjet landing anywhere.

He feels like he’s been knocked over the head with a hammer. His energy has been totally zapped, and he knows he needs to fight, needs to figure out how to get the hell out of here, he just can’t summon the will to get up.

There’s a commotion in the hallway near the room he’s being kept, and when the door finally bursts open, his face falls when he sees Tony Stark.

“Did you disable the power?” Bucky asks immediately, not giving Tony a chance to make what he’s sure was meant to be a dramatic entrance.

“What? No. Why are you on the ground?” Tony asks, irritated, taking a few steps towards Bucky before a now-familiar buzzing fills his ears. Bucky watches, un-amused, as the lights flicker, and Tony freezes, his suit shorting out.

It’s not the same bone-crackling energy that had rendered him virtually useless earlier, but Bucky still grits his teeth at the feeling of it ripping up whatever sensors are left in his metal arm.

“Oh, god dammit.” Tony curses. “Steve is here. He’ll figure it out.”

“They’ve got a device like an EMP. Shorts out everything electrical.” He winces, “Makes me feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears.”

“That’ll mean Wilson down for the count too,” Tony mutters.

Overhead, the lights flicker once more and then they go out entirely. The walls seem to shake with the force of an explosion, and Bucky and Tony barely have a chance to exchange worried glances before they’re plunged into darkness.

.

Inside the quinjet, it feels like an earthquake.

Jemma doesn’t look up. “That’ll be Daisy,” she says casually.

Fitz is frowning. “That didn’t feel like a quake.” He stands, heading over to one of the monitors where he tries to get in touch with the rest of the team. “Daisy? Coulson?”

You try too, pressing your finger against the comms device in your ear. “Steve?”

You get no response, not from him, and not from anyone else. You start to feel dread prickling up your spine, and you surge to your feet, not able to just sit there anymore.

“I have to go help them.”

Simmons looks up at you, “You don’t have any way to defend yourself! If they’re not responding--”

“What, we’re going to just leave them in there?”

Fitz looks like he’s weighing his options. He moves quickly, digging into his backpack. He pulls out his sidearm, thrusting it at you. “You know how to use this?”

You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” He shoulders his backpack, and you tuck the gun into your waistband.

“Fitz!” Simmons protests. “The Captain said to stay here—“

“Tell him it was my idea,” you say. “He can lecture me after we save his life.” You take off down the ramp before either of them can say anything else, but you’re relieved when you hear their footsteps following.

Inside, you’re immediately on edge at the lack of guards. You’ve got your borrowed gun at the ready, Fitz and Simmons silently behind you. “First floor is clear,” you whisper. On a whim, you press your finger to your ears again, just on an off chance. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Daisy!” Simmons exclaims before racing towards a figure slumped against a far wall. “Daisy? Can you hear me?”

Daisy groans, opening her eyes slowly. “Shit. Simmons?”

“What happened? We thought it was you--”

“It was me, but then there was this-- I don’t know. It felt like it was scrambling my brain. Took the power out. I tried to quake a few of the guards, but it knocked me out.”

“It only knocked out the powered people?”

“It shorted out my gloves,” Daisy says, getting to her feet. “It’s like it reversed the energy I was exerting and put it back at me.”

You blanche. “Steve and Bucky.”

Fitz echoes your worry. “Falcon and Iron Man have powered suits. Might have had the same effect on them, too.”

All you can think of is what Bucky might have felt - his arm literally is fused to his nerves - and you’re suddenly angrier than you’ve ever been. Forcing yourself to take a few deep breaths. You have no idea if Bucky’s realized your connection yet, but even if he hasn’t he’s got to be feeling some residual panic. You force yourself to calm down.

“There.” Fitz says suddenly, pointing towards the one room in the building with a light on. You can hear voices inside. “It’s Coulson.”

You walk up to the room slowly, gun drawn, the three SHIELD agents at your back. Peering around the corner, you can hear what almost sounds like a casual conversation between Coulson and some Hydra lunatic.

“-- what exactly is the grand plan? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s four Avengers here.”

The man scoffs. “A lot of good they are, aren’t they!” He laughs, “Captain Rogers here doesn’t look like he’s much up for anything right now.”

You take a deep breath when you see Steve slumped against the doorway. Slowly, you reach down, checking his pulse. Still alive, you reassure yourself.

“So you’ve got a device that can take out inhumans and the enhanced. What comes next?”

“Don’t forget it disables any man-made technology that aids the enhanced. Gives us a much more level playing field.”

“This is boring,” Coulson says, dry. “There’s no grand plan? You kidnapped Bucky Barnes to… what? To get Steve Rogers here? To get SHIELD here? You had to know someone would come.”

“The more Avengers we can take out at once, the better. And once we build this machine to its full potential, we can take out entire countries' worth of inhumans and the enhanced.”

You’ve heard enough. “New plan.” You say firmly, stepping around the corner, gun raised. Your eyes narrow. “Where’s Sergeant Barnes?”

The man looks unruffled. “I assume he’s in the cell where we left him, considering he’s only got one fully functioning arm.”

You glance over your shoulder at Fitz and Simmons. “Figure out a way to power that down.” Daisy stays out of sight, but you appreciate knowing you’ve got at least one superhero at your back. Gun still pointed at the Hydra agent, they hurry around him, analyzing the panels and buttons in front of them.

“I wondered if you’d come too,” the man says. He holds out a hand. “Alex Harrison. We haven’t met yet. Well, not officially.” He smirks, “Seen you around though, with the Asset.”

“He has a name.” You growl.

“Two minutes,” Fitz says, and you’re aware of Coulson reaching for his waistband, too. Behind you, Steve starts to rouse, and you fight off the panic at him immediately springing into action.

“Even if you destroy this machine, the plans won’t be stopped.”

“You talk too much,” Coulson says, lunging forward and hitting Harrison hard with the butt of his gun, sending him collapsing to the ground.

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Had to find out about their evil plan.”

“What-- what are you doing here?” Steve asks groggily.

“Hate to break this up, but we need to find the others.” Daisy says. She looks at you, “Can you tell where he is?”

You concentrate on the bond.

“I’ve got him.”

.

Bucky thinks if he could avoid spending any extended period of time with Tony Stark again, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“All I’m saying is… have you noticed her?”

He’s been needling Bucky about you for the last half hour, and Bucky’s about had it. “Shouldn’t we be trying to get the hell out of here?”

Tony glares. “Well, considering I can’t move…”

The door to the cell suddenly bursts open, and both Bucky and Tony flinch.

“Took you long enough!” Tony crows at the unfamiliar woman, holding her hand up not unlike Bucky’s seen Tony do.

“Bucky!”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice. You’re there, in front of him, real and alive, hair escaping your ponytail in tendrils, clad in a bulletproof vest and a pair of jeans that he thinks he’ll be dreaming about for days to come.

Also, a gun.

He’s never pondered the attractiveness of firearms until now.

“This seems backwards,” Bucky says. “I should be the one attempting a daring rescue for you.”

“He’s not good at being grateful,” Tony mutters.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the woman says, interrupting. “I’m Daisy. I’m with SHIELD. It’s an honor to meet you.” She grabs his good arm, hoisting him to his feet.

“Brought the calvary, then?” Bucky asks you, over Daisy’s shoulder.

Daisy snorts. “Actually, yes, but don’t let Agent May hear you say that.”

“We have to go quickly.” You say, moving to Bucky’s side. “Are you hurt anywhere else? What did they--” your voice is getting increasingly panicked, and Bucky stops you.

“I’m okay.” He says softly. “Let’s go.”

Getting both himself and Tony oriented is a struggle as they fight off the effects of the EMP, but out in the corridor, he finds the rest of the team including Wilson and Steve congregating. He fights not to notice the way you stay close to his side, close enough to touch.

“How did you find me?” Bucky asks Steve.

Steve glances at you. “It’s a long story.”

Outside, on the quinjet, you busy yourself checking everyone for injuries and any signs of trauma from the Hydra device. You’re in your element, and Bucky can’t take his eyes off you.

He realizes how close he came to being done for. If not for the quickness of the team - however they found him - and for the fact that the trigger words don’t work anymore, he would have been lights out without ever telling you that he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

They land quickly, promising the SHIELD agents a chance to rest up at Stark Tower before they head back to their base.

You head to the infirmary with Bucky, whose arm is still shorted out.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you back up and running, okay, Sergeant?” Your smile is gentle.

“Yes ma’am.”

He watches you work, watches the way your forehead creases as you concentrate and the way you have tiny flecks of light in your eyes.

He wonders if you’ve got someone. You’ve never mentioned it, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining all these little moments the two of you have had together. There’s the matter of the mark. He hasn’t seen if you have one. He’s put off thinking about his own - or the lack thereof - for… decades.

He decides he doesn’t care. Not when you’re smiling at him like that, and indulging his bad jokes, and making him feel like he’s a normal person, not someone to be afraid of.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He blurts.

You look startled. “Uh-- no, I don’t think so.”

“Do you want to go out?” He takes a minute to relish in the surprised look on your face. “With me?”

A myriad of emotions flash across your face. One he doesn’t expect to see is sadness. It makes a lead weight settle in his stomach.

“Bucky…”

He’s afraid of what you’re going to say. He finds himself rushing to reassure you. “It’s not-- it doesn’t have to be anything serious. I just-- I want to spend time with you. Just us.”

You’re so still. It doesn’t track with anything he knows about you - the way you’re always moving, always taking care of everyone else.

“You want to go out with me?” You manage. “Like, a date?”

He smiles. “Yeah, like a date.”

“You want to go out on a date with me?” You ask him again, and he laughs, unable to believe that he has to explain why he thinks you’re so extraordinary.

“I’ve felt a connection with you since the minute we met. I can’t explain it, but it’s true. And the way you burst in there to rescue me, all guns and glory…” a wry smile twists his mouth. “How was I supposed to not want you?”

“Oh, Bucky.” You say, watery through your tears. But you’re smiling now, which is a far sight better than when he thought you were horrified by the prospect of being with him romantically.

He continues, feeling a burst of confidence. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, so I’m sorry if I’m out of practice. I just-- I feel like I know you. I need you to know that even if-- if we’re not soulmates, even if you don’t believe in that shit, I still want you. I don’t see that changing any time soon.” Bucky’s voice is filled with conviction, and he watches as tears pool in your eyes and start to spill over. “Oh, honey, no.” He reaches for you, but stops halfway. “Don’t cry. I’ll-- what do you need? If you need me to fuck off and never be seen again, I know a guy who can make that happen,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

A choked sob leaves your mouth, but now you’re smiling, so Bucky takes it as a good sign, though he’s still terrified you’re going to turn tail and leave him standing here. “What is it? Why are you-- please don’t cry.”

You don’t say anything, but it happens almost in slow motion. You lift up your left arm and slowly push up the sleeve, and start to take off your watch. Underneath, in faded black ink, is a vine of ivy, trailing around your delicate wrist, small leaves dotting your veins.

His entire world stops. He’s speechless. He has absolutely no idea what to say. His brain is just screaming, you belong to her, you belong to her over and over again.

“I knew I was yours, but I thought that you didn’t belong to me.” You’re saying. “I-- I didn’t want to trap you, I--.”

“Why would you think that?” His voice cracks.

You look confused. “You don’t have a mark, Buck, I’m your doctor, I saw your arm--”

“My left arm.” His voice is hoarse.

“What?”

“My mark was on my left arm. It showed up in 1934, before the war, before… everything.”

The air whooshes from the room.

“What did it look like?” You ask timidly.

He smiles, stepping closer. “Why don’t you tell me?” He takes your hand, slowly, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you.

“If this is a joke--”

“I would never joke about this.” He says, hoarse. “I got my mark when I was seventeen years old, and all I thought about for years was finding my match.” Feeling braver, he reaches forward, cupping your face in his palm. “They took that from me,” he says. “Kind of fitting the one to rescue me from Hydra was also the one to bring my mark back to me, right?”

You laugh, a little choked through your tears, and he leans down, tracing the pattern he knows so well with his fingertips on his good hand. “There’s a pale pink flower,” he whispers, looking you dead in the eyes. “Right about here.” His thumb presses lightly at the crook of your elbow, where you know a flower sits.

“It’s how I found you.” You tell him, and the pieces start to click into place. “I dreamed about you, but I think it was more of a vision.”

“You were the one to realize I’d been taken?” He asks, feeling his heart squeeze. “Jesus.”

“Called Steve in the middle of the night. Demanded he listen to me and he came to get me from SHIELD.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, a smile growing on his face. “In a good way,” he adds. Then, quieter, “I’ve dreamed of you too.” He whispers.

You’re both quiet for a few minutes. “What do we do now?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Don’t know. I haven’t done this before.” HIs eyes are filled with mirth.

“Oh… you-- shut up.”

He grins - he has a feeling riling you up is going to be one of his favorite pastimes.

“Let me get your arm up and running, and then we’ll talk.” You eye him carefully. “I might have to get Tony for the hardwiring.”

Bucky lets his head drop back as he groans. “Anyone but him.”

You cackle delightedly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

He brightens at the use of the endearment. He feels - it’s a dream. Seventy years of waiting, and somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew you were different the minute he met you.

He knows you have a lot to talk about - a lot to decide, a lot to work through. He feels almost invincible, though, especially after thinking for so long that he would never find his match if he didn’t have his mark anymore. He still can’t fathom how he got so lucky for it to be you.

.

You feel like you’re walking on clouds for the rest of the day. After some good-natured ribbing from the team, and from SHIELD - you promised to stay in touch with them, if only to convince Steve and Tony to come around and start working with them again; you quite like Phil Coulson - they mostly leave you and Bucky alone.

You hole up in his apartment for nearly the entire day, talking about everything you can think of. Your childhood, his childhood, even the rough parts that make his voice catch and harden… you sit right there and hold his hand through it.

You can almost feel your bond like a living, breathing thing now. It’s electric when the two of you touch, something that you’d always noticed but tried not to put any weight on.

Now, it seems so obvious.

He kisses you goodnight. It sends a flare of heat through you and nearly makes you dizzy, and you want him to do it again as soon as it ends.

He reminds you that you’ve got a lifetime to sort out what this all means.

A lifetime with Bucky Barnes sounds like a dream.

You can’t wait.

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon + romantic gestures

Daryl’s always taking care of people, but there’s no one he takes better care of than Carol. He’s always doing little things for her, some of them completely platonic with no ulterior motive than to help, support and comfort his BFF Carol. although on some not so rare occasions, there’s no mistaking that some of his actions can be interpreted for what they really are - romantic gestures. 

Daryl Dixon is actually a pretty sensible/sensitive guy, which coming from someone with an abusive past and complete lack of experience when it comes to relationships and expressing his feelings, is shockingly surprising. Plus, it’s the damn apocalypse, there’s no time to court a woman, but consciously or not, that’s exactly what Daryl’s been doing for the past decade. I really think sometimes he’s completely clueless he is actually doing it until he becomes too self-aware, showing some vulnerability, shyness and even awkwardness. However those romantic gestures just come naturally to him when he’s around Carol.

The most painfully obvious romantic gestures by Daryl Dixon after the jump...

The shoulder massage

Carol is uncomfortable, her shoulder hurts, and without thought Daryl simply offers to massage it for her. He’s so distracted by the ease the two now have with each other that he only notices the intimacy boundary he just crossed when Carol intensely looks back at him and smiles. “Pretty romantic,” she comments. Yes. Yes, it is. Daryl did that. He becomes aware of exactly what he is doing and what it could mean, but since he’s not ready for any of that, he backtracks. Carol’s teasing jokes aren’t unwelcome but he really doesn’t know how to respond beyond the cute, smiling “STAHP.”

The sanctuary hug

As soon as he realizes it’s Carol approaching the group, Daryl completely forgets himself, everybody else around them and runs to literally sweep her off her feet. This is the first time Daryl actively seeks physical contact on a deeper level with another human being on the show. It’s a huge turning point. Do I need to say more?

The protective/chivalrous act

Daryl always acts as a protector of those who need the most, but he subtly and unconsciously acts extremely protective of Carol even knowing she is damn capable of protecting herself. Daryl will have Carol’s back on every occasion and physically stand between her and potential danger, like when they first encountered Father Gabriel or when Noah put her in danger. He will offer her food/water, make sure she is sleeping and she is ok. He may act like a crude rude redneck around anyone else (pissing in the corner, manhandling people, beastly chugging spaghetti), but not around Carol. There’s so many examples of Daryl continuously doing the apocalypse equivalent of opening the door for her. Daryl’s chivalry is reserved for Carol. She may know him better than anyone else, but he really wants her to see the best version of himself.

The water jugs (part II of the chivalrous act)

Yep, Daryl’s got no game whatsoever, but he did try to be smooth, showing Carol that the redneck can be a real gentleman, and that’s progress. Even though, Daryl is already carrying as many water jugs as one can safely carry, he offers to take one of Carol’s too. There’s no logic to this gesture that ends with Daryl facepalming in embarrassment when he lets one of his jugs fall out of his hand to land at Carol’s feet. Carol’s face is priceless. He gets a teasing smile and probably should take that as a win considering her state of mind in that moment.

The food tray with flower (part III of the chivalrous act)

Something as simple as leaving someone a tray of food with a flower would have been a perfectly casual act. But we’re talking about Merle Dixon’s brother, the one who considered himself a nobody before the world went to shit. Daryl, the guy who eats raw squirrel/possum with his bare hands, took the time to pick a flower to decorate the tray of food he carefully left at Carol’s door. Is there anything more romantic in the middle of the damn apocalypse ffs? I still can’t believe we were robbed of watching Carol’s expression when she realized he had done that for her right before she’d tease him about it. But Carol wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to voice her appreciation for these small grand gestures.

The compliments/teasing

When Carol needs an ego boost, Daryl is there to remind her she’s a good shot, she saved them all at Terminus, and she’s got a whole lot more to offer, but her place is with them/the group. She is needed. He has been slowly learning to tease/flirt with Carol through the years. Daryl, too pragmatic for the frivolous things of the past, lets Carol know she looks good in pink. He’s also quick to let her know her soccer mom style is so not her. “You look ridiculous.” Recently, they have crossed into teen love territory with their competitive flirty games of kill the walker or hit the can, while relentlessly taunting each other. This new playfulness between them resulted in an exchange of gifts- the friendship bracelet and lucky acorns, - they obviously both cherish.

The unconditional support

There’s absolutely nothing Daryl won’t do for Carol - from babysitting her kid to letting her know he could and would never hate her no matter what. Daryl will defend Carol against Rick, Tyreese, Gabriel, Magna, and whoever else. If that wasn’t enough, he was also there for her, holding her during the two worst moments of her life - losing both of her kids, Sophia and Henry. And he continues to stay by her side through anything and everything, even when she’s on a reckless revenge mission. “I’m the one you tell. Me.” Daryl wants to help her, but Carol is not able to open up to him and yet it does not stop him. “I wanna be there for you.” After Carol crossed every line and pushed all of his limits and you think he’s had enough, Daryl is still reassuring her everything is gonna be alright. “You still got me.” This is LOVE, not platonic love, it’s the ‘you are under my skin’ type of love that is forever.

The need to comfort

The skittish Daryl, who was afraid of any and all human contact when we first met him, is now completely gone. He’s grown so much and he’s finally in a position to provide emotional comfort and to express it through physical contact. He has done this with Judith and Connie too, but Daryl’s weakness (and strength) is Carol and her emotional well being is his priority. The best way he found to express this is to hug her whenever he feels like she needs it the most - from finding her at the savior’s compound, checking up on her at the creepy house in the woods, trying to bring her back to think about the future they can still have, to reassuring her he’ll always be there for her. Daryl is no longer shy about pulling her in for a big full body hug, and sometimes I wonder if he’s not doing it for his own sake too. I mean who can ever resist a teary eyed Carol!?!

The desire to spend time together

For someone who isn’t used to express his wishes/feelings, Daryl has been making an effort to let Carol know how much he enjoys spending time with her and her alone. He started with a timid “I don’t like not seeing you” to openly ask her to come home and tell he needs her to stay and not isolate herself again. “Otherwise I’ll have to punch holes in all them boats.” This quickly escalated when Carol suggested they could stop fighting and leave it all behind. The idea the two of them could just get on the bike and go, run away together, has been deeply seeded on Daryl’s mind and he alludes to it few times through the last season. “We have a future./New Mexico’s still out there.” Daryl is finally ready. Carol just needs to catch up.

[reluctant-mandalore]

Din Djarin Cuddle Headcanons

Masterlist || Request

Warnings: Mostly fluff. Touch starved Mando. Hints at more sexual themes, but nothing sexual happens. It is just some lovely cuddle times. also dad!Din and bestfriend cara. not beta read >.<

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: Hey everyone! If you haven’t noticed I really like cuddling and have been talking about cuddling with Din for a while now. So I finally did up some headcanons. I tried to separate some of the headcanons into sections so they weren’t just one big mass of points. I have quite a bit to throw at you guys lol and there may be some possible fics which arise from these headcanons >.>’

+ Din Djarin loves cuddling, and it’s something he’ll always secretly look forward to. This man is always ready for some cuddle action. 

+ Din especially loves cuddling with his significant other. He loves the warmth and intimacy he feels from being snuggled up with his sweet cyar'ika. 

+ Admittedly, being so close and wrapped up with the one he loves makes Din feel safe and at ease. He could sleep for hours snuggled up with them. 

+ Din isn’t afraid of platonic cuddling either. They haven’t done it very often, but he’s definitely shared some friendly cuddles with Cara, while working together on some jobs. There’s nothing wrong with a pair of good friends enjoying one another’s company, especially if one or both of them need some support. 

+ Cara finds it fun to joke and poke fun at Din while cuddling. She likes to tease her friend at any sort of time, but while they’re close like that it just makes it easier for her. 

+ Usually, if they partake in cuddling with one another, its for comfort reasons. Things like one of them suffering through a nightmare, or having some sort of emotional turmoil, are the main causes to their cuddle moments. 

+ Din still remembers that one day where he had just broke down after almost losing the child. Cara had ended up holding him for hours as she had comforted him after they did manage to rescue the little womprat.  

General Cuddling with a Significant Other:

+ Din will find any excuse to cuddle with his significant other, even if he doesn’t really need a reason to cuddle with them.

+ Din knows that just wanting to cuddle is a good enough motive to do so. Although, he can’t help but come up with an excuse anyway. Bottling up his emotions for years has made it hard for him to just be honest with what he wants.

+ From the lack of physical contact he has experienced in his life, he craves the touch of others, especially if it’s coming from his significant other. Cuddling just happens to be an amazing way of achieving his desire of needing to feel close to them. 

+ This means that the skin-to-skin contact that sometimes comes from cuddling, can send him into a flushing mess and can lead to some more heated encounters. 

+ Cuddling doesn’t always lead to more intimate and sexual moments with him. However, there have been numerous occasions, where a regular cuddle session has turned into a heated affair between him and his significant other. All thanks to the cuddling they had started before hand. 

+ It took Din a while to feel comfortable cuddling without all his armor on. Even with his partner wearing a blindfold, the fear of his creed being broken still remains at times. 

+ He did eventually become more relaxed with the whole thing. He now actually prefers to cuddle without his armor on. 

+ There are times where he still insists on wearing the helmet, but he has become more comfortable with removing the helmet (as long as his significant other has a blindfold on) during their cuddling moments. 

+ When he has his helmet off and his partner is blindfolded, he likes to pepper kisses along their skin, humming as he does so. He’ll caress them with feather-like touches, barely making contact with their form, as he uses just enough pressure to still send shivers down their spin. 

+ Din actually likes when his significant other well do the same to him. Pressing kisses to his revealed skin and tracing heir fingers against his many scars. Doing so can easily send him into a heated frenzy.

+ Din loves having his hair played with. He could just lay there for hours with his partners fingers twirling and running through his thick locks. The gesture always makes him feel sleepy and is one of the quickest ways to help him de-stress. 

+ He likes to play with his partner’s hair too, and he really likes seeing the calming expression that crosses their face as he does. The sight always leaves him feeling happy and content. 

+ Din is a literal space heater, as he lets off a lot of body heat naturally. So, its very nice to cuddle with him when its a cold night. He warms his partner right up. 

+ On warm nights, him and his significant other will sometimes sleep with less blankets (or even without the blankets altogether). Doing this so that they both can still cuddle and not feel too warm while sleeping. 

Cuddling Positions

+ In terms of a favourite cuddle position, he wouldn’t say that he has one. All forms of cuddling are completely valid in his mind.

+ Honestly, as long as he gets to hold and smother his cyar'ika with affection, the position it is done in doesn’t matter to him in the slightest.

+  Din may not have a favourite position, but he definitely prefers ones where he gets to be as close to his significant other as possible. This is most likely due to him being very touched starved and craving their presence.

+ Din is also a healthy mix of being the big spoon and the little spoon. He loves being both immensely.

+ He actually didn’t think he was the little spoon type of person. He thought for sure that he was a big spoon kind of cuddlier. Although, this thought process had all changed after one fateful night.

+ On this night, Din had gone to bed much later than his partner—who was already fast asleep—doing his best not to wake them. His partner had felt his presence anyway though, and they had rolled over towards him more in their sleep. As they did so, their arm had circled around his waist, their face burying itself into the back of his neck as the front of their body pressed tightly into his back. Thus, effectively making him the little spoon for the first time in his life.

+ He had quickly learned from this moment that he loved being the little spoon. He just felt so relaxed and safe like this with his partner.

+ In terms of where he likes to cuddle with his partner, he definitely prefers a more private place. One of their cots (and eventually their shared cot) being the most common.

+ Although, Din does like to let his partner sit in his lap in the pilot chair. He likes just sitting there with them in his arms, while watching stars dash by their sights. 

First Time Cuddling with Significant Other:

+  The first time Din had ever cuddled with his partner was before the two of them had even started dating. 

+ The one night—while staying on a very cold and icy planet—the night had gotten so cold that the Razor’s heating system could not keep up with it. This is what had lead to them sharing a cot. 

+ It was only to conserve body heat of course, and totally wasn’t because they both had a secret crush on one another. 

+ He had taken off his armor, leaving the helmet firmly in place, so he was in nothing but his undershirt and pants. Not feeling comfortable with removing anymore of his clothing. 

+ The two of them had started out back to back, but by morning the both of them had awoken in each other's arms, having begun cuddling sometime in the middle of the night. 

+ This was probably also the first moment that Din had realized just how much he enjoyed cuddling, especially if it was with his future significant other. 

More Cuddling Things:

+ Din’s partner will often find him cuddling with the child. The little one would be snuggled up to Din, while being hugged closely on top of his adoptive fathers chest. 

+ Sometimes Din’s partner could also be found cuddling with the child while sleeping, which leads to the bounty hunter dropping whatever he was doing and joining them instantly. 

+ If Din and his partner also have their own children, he can be found cuddling with them as well. Usually him and the children can be found all in one big pile sleeping where ever they had managed to pass out together. 

+ Family cuddles are an absolute must in their household and happen quite frequently. 

+ After some really tough jobs, Din likes to just melt into his significant other’s arms, sometimes even dozing off there on the spot from how tired he is. 

+ Din thinks that the best naps also involve some sort of cuddling. He finds that he gets a more peaceful rest if he goes to sleep snuggled up with someone.

+ If possibly, Din Djarin would live the rest of his life happily wrapped up and cuddled with his loved ones. 

--

Tags: 

@ah-callie​ @readsalot73​ @karnita-mexicana​ @starrywatermelon​ @kind-of-trash​

[galactic-magick]

The Wedding: Logan x Reader

Summary: You attend Janus and Patton’s wedding and some things get said.

Words: 2200+                                        

Warnings: swears, lots of kiss kiss

Author’s Notes: I know I said I was taking a break from writing but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head hahaha but now I’m actually gonna take a break cuz college or whatever

Taglist: @luluwinchester​ @nerve-ous-love​ @zarieslayer​ @amayaisokay​

-

-

-

You’re so happy for them. The smiles on both of their faces as they kiss really says it all, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted for them. They both look so excited and handsome, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen Janus so cheerful. They’re truly meant for each other, even though it took them a while to realize.

You’re standing next to the other sides and they’re all having very different reactions. Roman has a few tears running down his cheeks, Virgil has the slightest smirk across his lips, and Remus is clapping and cheering.

Logan you can’t really read, he looks happy, but there’s something else. Something deep in his eyes, something longing.

Or maybe that’s just what you wish you could see.

Weddings always seem to bring about thoughts about people’s own love lives, and you’re no exception. You’ve been crushing on Logan for what feels like forever, but you’ve never made a move or told him about it. You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if you were up there with him, vowing to spend your lives together. You’re not even sure if he’d date you, let alone marry you, yet it never hurts to daydream…

“Are you alright?” Logan must’ve noticed you zoned out.

You blink a few times and smile, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good,”

The happy couple walks back down the aisle towards the reception room and the other sides start to follow.

“May I?” Logan holds out his arm to you.

You nod and hang onto him, following the others.

It’s just a simple act of politeness, but your heart pounding in your chest says otherwise. He looks fantastic in a suit and being so close to him gives you chills, all you can hope is that you can get through this night and still be able to breathe.

You can’t imagine him ever being this crazy about you, even if he does possess some feelings for you. It seems silly to wish for some insane romantic time tonight, especially since you’re supposed to be focused on the literal marriage that just happened. You’re just going to have to ignore how ridiculously hot he is for a few hours. No problem.

Logan lets you go to help with the music and lights, and the party starts. Everyone rushes to congratulate Janus and Patton, then flock to the dance floor and food tables.

You grab a slice of cake and take a seat, not quite ready to talk to a bunch of people yet. Of course you know quite a lot of the people here, but there’s still some you don’t and honestly small talk isn’t really your favorite thing.

“Enjoying your cake?” Logan settles down next to you.

“Please don’t tell me you came all the way over here to lecture me on how unhealthy it is,”

“What? Of course not,” he takes a bite of his own. “Indulging in sweets on occasion within moderation can have a variety of benefits for your mental and emotional well-being,”

“Ah, good to know,”

“Do you…” he hesitates. “Do you really think that’s all I do? Lecture people about bad habits?”

“No! I mean, yeah, you do that a lot, but I was just joking,”

“Well I sincerely apologize regardless,”

“Oh…thank you,” you finish your cake and gaze at the small crowd of people that have gathered in the center of the room, dancing about and having a good time. The music switches between slow and peppy, since no one could decide if slow dancing or mosh pits were better. Remus for one doesn’t seems to care which, he hasn’t stopped twerking since you came in here.

“Marriage is so strange, isn’t it?”

“How so?” you ask.

“Not strange in a negative sense of course, it’s just because it’s so unexplainable. Life is full of figurative twists and turns yet somehow against all odds two people can find each other and decide to stay with each other for the foreseeable future; and they’re so sure about it that they’re willing to make it legally binding. Fascinating,”

“Would you ever do that?” you look up at him. “Get married?”

“I’m not opposed to the idea, but I doubt anyone would want me as a husband,” he chuckles. “I’ve been told I’m not the best romantic,”

“By who, Roman?” you laugh. “He just has extremely high standards for that kind of stuff,”

“I suppose so. What about you?”

I would for you, your mind echoes, although you could never say it out loud.

“I think so, but I don’t think I’m the greatest quality spouse material either,”

The guests get a bit louder so you go over to see what’s up. Patton and Janus have started doing some toasts, and each of the sides and other close friends are giving short speeches about them. They had asked if you wanted to give one as well, but everything you wanted to say was already covered by the others and you don’t particularly want to talk to a large crowd.

Roman’s speech makes nearly everyone cry, Virgil’s is surprisingly sweet and Remus’s makes everyone laugh.

Logan steps up to the front of the room with a microphone for his, “As many of you know being sentimental is not my strength, but I assure you that this union is a true blessing to this world,” he looks to them. “Patton, you’ve been a dear friend to me for many years, and I know you will be an even better husband. Janus, you’ve changed the lives of not only Patton but all of us, and I’m sure that you will continue to challenge more in this new stage of your life. I wish you both the best,”

Every one claps and cheers and then goes back to dancing and socializing. As much as you’re having fun, after a while you’re a bit exhausted so you stay on the side of the room watching. You don’t want to leave, but this environment is getting overwhelming.

“There’s a spare room down the hall, you know,” Logan comes up behind you, making you jump.

“What?”

“There’s an empty room at this venue that just has extra tables and chairs. You appear a little uneasy so I thought I’d let you know in case you wanted to get away from the noise for a while,”

“Oh my gosh, yes,” you sigh. He offers you his hand and you take it probably a little too quickly. He takes you down there and shuts the door.

You run over to one of the stacks of chairs and sit on the top one, dangling your legs. The air is a lot cooler in here, most likely because there’s not as much body heat from tons of people. There’s only a couple lights so it’s pretty dim, but not so much that you can’t see everything.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” you say.

“Would you rather me leave?”

“No!” you shake your head. “I just don’t want you to miss the party,”

“I’m sure I won’t be missing anything significant,”

“Were you not having fun?”

“I was enjoying myself yes,” he lets out a breath. “I just feel, at least I think I feel…somewhat out of place,”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,”

“No, no,” you reach out for his hand again. “Tell me,”

He looks into your eyes, searching for something, anything. Answers, something to explain the strange sensation in his heart, “What does love feel like?”

You lean back a bit, not expecting such a question from him, “Well, it’s different for everyone. There’s familial and platonic love of course, but each of those can feel very different from romantic love and other kinds of attraction. Which one do you mean?”

“What Janus and Patton have,” he says it as if it’s some strong force of physics that he can’t wait to understand.

“I mean, even romantic love varies from person to person. Sometimes it feels like a burning passion, and sometimes it feels like they’re the only thing in the world that calms you down. It can feel like a best friend or it can feel like someone you want to learn more and more about every day,”

“So you’ve felt it? Love?”

“I think so, but it’s not really the same when the other person doesn’t love you back,” your eyes fall to the floor.

“Why wouldn’t they love you back?”

“Well sometimes things just don’t work out, sometimes the feeling doesn’t go both ways,” you shrug. “Why are you asking me all this?”

His eyes squint a bit, and he’s silent for a moment.

“I think I feel love,” he finally says.

“You do?”

“I wasn’t sure what it was, but after today and what you said, I’m fairly certain it is,”

“Wow! That’s um…great,” you’re not quite sure what to say. The man you’ve been fantasizing about all evening is talking about feeling true love for the first time, and it’s probably not even for you. “Who’s the lucky one?”

“You,”

It is you?

“What?” you croak.

“I feel love for you,” he coughs. “I mean, I love you. That’s how you phrase it, right?”

“I-“

“I understand if you do not feel it too. You said the person you feel love for does not love you back, correct?”

“Well I…I didn’t know that you loved me back-“

He rests his hand on your knee, “Don’t worry. The knowledge of my feelings shouldn’t get in the way of another. Have you considered asking this person if they also possess feelings for you?”

“What? Logan no-“ Does he really not get it?

Without giving a second thought, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you, smashing your lips onto his. His are stiff but soon soften, and you can practically feel him realizing what’s going on. His hand slides up a bit and grips your thigh and the other strokes your face ever so softly.

You separate slightly, just enough that you can see his expression.

“Ah. So I’m the one you thought didn’t love you back,” he grins.

“Yeah…”

“I think I like it, this love concept,” he licks his lips. “I see what all the fuss is about now,”

“It is pretty cool I guess,” you giggle.

He leans in again and steals another kiss, “I like those too,”

“We can definitely do more of that,”

“Let’s go then,” he grabs your legs and wraps them around his torso, holding onto you tight.

You grip onto him for dear life as he lifts you off the stack of chairs, “Wait where are we going?”

He opens the door and goes back down the hall, running into the others.

“Logan? What’s going on?” Roman asks.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s kidnapping Y/N,” Virgil rolls his eyes.

“What?!”

“Nah, we’re just gonna go makeout!” you call, and their shocked faces are the last thing you see as you turn the corner.

Before you know it you’re in the backseat of Logan’s car with his lips on yours again. For a guy who just came to terms with his feelings he’s an unbelievable kisser, and honestly you haven’t even fully comprehended what’s happening. You’re just going with the flow, and neither of you can get enough.

He doesn’t seem to get bored of even the smallest things, kissing your lips, holding your face and your hands. He takes his time, he’s nervous and a bit unsure of how everything’s supposed to work but he’s determined to make you feel loved.

And you do.

You never would’ve thought you’d be pressed against the seat of Logan Sanders’ car by the end of tonight, but here you are, and you’re not complaining.

“Is this okay?” he stops. “People who love each other do this, correct?”

You run your fingers through his hair, “Yeah, this is what people who love each other do,” you smile.

“Remarkable,” his knuckles glide along your jaw. “We should do this every day then,”

“Definitely,”

He starts kissing you again, this time trailing down your neck.

You look out the window and see some movement outside. It’s dark out so you’re not sure, but it looks like people are walking towards you.

“Logan, wait,” you gently push him off of you.

“What’s wrong?”

Roman, Remus, and Virgil approach the car.

“What do you guys think you’re doing? Janus and Patton just left for their honeymoon and we need to help clean up!” Roman scolds.

“I think they were fucking,” Remus snickers.

“No we weren’t! Not yet- I mean, no! Not at all!” you stammer.

Virgil huffs, “You guys have been making heart eyes at each other all night, am I really the only one who’s not surprised?”

“Yes, Virgil, you are!” Roman growls. “Look, I don’t care what you guys wanna do later, can you at least help pack up the leftover food and the sound stuff?”

“Of course, Roman,” Logan nods, opening the door.

They all head back inside, you and Logan close behind hand in hand.

“I feel kinda bad for ditching everyone, we didn’t even get to see them leave,” you say.

“They’re be back in a couple weeks, darling, it’ll be alright,”

You stop and whip your head towards him, “What did you just call me?”

“Darling. Would you rather me not give you nicknames? I’m so sorry-“

You cut him off with a kiss, “No, no, it’s sweet. I like it,” you smile.

“Are you guys serious?!”

[galleryfake]

in depth headcanon prompts;

from this post !

are there any recent/daily thoughts they have about death or dying?

he does not think about it, nor does he worry about it — the only times it comes into his thought process is when his survival instincts kick in for whatever reason, and he needs to remind himself that he must suppress the urge for flight and focus on the fight, even if he perishes in the process. he goes into dangerous situation with the acceptance that he may not survive it, and is relatively at peace with that.

do they believe for every darkness there is a lightness? if not, why?

nope. the belief of “light” and “dark” isn’t factual enough for him and he doesn’t care for or understand such comparisons. all he knows is loyalty to his loved ones and complete apathy for everyone else. food for the spider’s web.

name one thing about the way their emotions work that they despise.

haha, oh yes — his emotions completely get away from him when his troupemates are in danger, and he’s more prone to acting irrationally than he ever is ; see the conflict over whether or not to let paku go alone to see kurapika. the fact that he’d gladly comply with a captor’s demands just to see paku and chrollo unharmed speaks VOLUMES. 

would they ever wish upon a falling star? if so, what would they wish?

nah, he wouldn’t. he’s more likely to quietly be reminded of a fact about meteorites he read about in a book once, and relay it to whoever he’s with if they bring it up.

describe how they would spend a stormy, overcast/rainy day.

inside, watching out the window. he doesn’t have much of a problem regulating his body temperature ever since he started developing his transmutation skills and it ended up expressing as ice — in simpler words, he’s not bothered by the cold anymore. he likes to watch the weather as it fluctuates and ponder each raindrop as it falls, it’s pretty easy for him to get lost in thought about pretty much anything. troupe’s #1 space cadet, challenged in ranking only by shizuku.

storms or clear skies?

storms, for the reasons mentioned directly above.

what about nature do they find calming? what about nature do they find disagreeable?

he’s fairly neutral on pretty much everything relating to it, aside from sating his natural curiosity of the world around him by gathering information about it in his spare time ; he can certainly tell you a few things about a particular biome or species of animal if he’s happened to read up on it. the only thing he actual hates is strong windstorms — he clocks in at about sixty-five pounds and is susceptible to being yanked around by gusts of wind, plus it makes his hair an absolute NIGHTMARE to untangle later. 

list three or more people they would call out for during an emergency.

he wouldn’t. he blames himself & his own lack of fortitude for any unfortunate situation he finds himself in and doesn’t expect anyone to help him. he is surprised and very grateful anytime someone helps him out of an emergency ; it’s one sure-fire way to get in his good favor.

what is their typical response to being given orders?

from chrollo? absolute compliance, no questions asked. from literally ANYONE else? he will argue with you if he deems the order invalid in any way, and whether or not he ends up following anyways depends completely on his own whims.

describe a thought or dream that would cause them to have a mental meltdown.

he’s never been the type to have very emotionally intense dreams, so when he does have them, they throw him completely off his game and he may act very unlike himself until he gets back into his groove. ( gestures to this thread for an example of that. )

are there any reasons why they would ever think of self-harm? if so, what are they?

( content warning for suicide and self-harm below. ) ah, yes. pre-troupe, when he was still under the care of medical caretakers with questionable credentials in meteor city, he would attempt to end his own life with any nearby tools to escape from the utter hopelessness of medical confinement with no end in sight. after he escaped and went to live on the outskirts on his own, he was in a lot of pain for several months due to his body re-adjusting to the harshness of his conditions and would paradoxically slash at his own arms and neck in an attempt to feel some sense of control over the pain by causing it himself. it is only by a SHEER series of miracles that he’s managed to survive this long — although, after having unlocked his full potential with nen, he is much more hardy nowadays.

describe a physical action that shows complete trust.

hand-holding. as a conjurer and a transmuter channeling an element of the weather, his hands are the sole conductors of his power. anyone outside the troupe who even tries to capture his hands will swiftly find themselves with a limb twisted off or some similar wound of instinctual self-defense.

describe a verbal way they would express complete trust.

haha, he speaks pretty bluntly, so i would imagine he’d just say “i trust you”. he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, so having it spoken aloud would be proof enough to anyone that knows him that he means it. 

explain how they portray feelings of hostility or dislike.

honestly, it’s pretty hard for him to feel such a thing, because he’s more prone to being curious why someone is Like That rather than disliking it right off the bat. in the case of him finally getting outright tired of someone’s shit, he just avoids them like the plague. when even kortopi gets up and leaves to avoid being in the same room with you, it’s probably time to think about your life and life choices. 😂

what is something that causes them to question themself?

paku’s death was a BIG one that caused him to silently marinate in doubt and self-hate for weeks afterwards. in general, being told that his stance on something is wrong, or even worse, being proven on this is something that disturbs him and will bother him for weeks, prompting him to scramble for the source of the inconsistency within himself so he can correct it. with things that have to do with emotions or his gut reactions, he has no idea how to deal with it and will likely become distant for a while, spacing out into thought on level that even surpasses shizuku.

on a sleepless night, what would they be found doing?

reading a physical book or something on his phone, or shalnark’s laptop, if he’s truly unable to sleep. if he’s just having trouble falling asleep, he’ll just space out in thought, following his train of thought wherever it happens to take him until unconsciousness finally overtakes him. 

name at least two people who can trust them with their life.

tagging the boyfriend @painxpacker and the bff @kyousei . fei & shal are without a doubt his most important people on an emotional level, his loyalty to chrollo residing in a different part of his brain altogether. he would die for chrollo if ordered ; he would do anything for feitan and shalnark, for any reason.

describe a way that will earn affection (whether platonic or romantic) from them.

he very much enjoys being infodumped to, as it piques his natural curiosity about everything and deviates from the norm of him just being given the basics of an order to be carried out ; carry on a conversation with him about something you’re interested in and let him ask a bunch of questions about it, and you may find him hanging around you more often.

describe a way to make them uneasy or apprehensive.

he has trouble understanding some of the more emotionally-driven members such as nobunaga and phinks, and finds their manner of thinking to be more or less unpredictable. he doesn’t avoid them persay, but he is more aware when talking to them that they may suddenly blow up or act irrationally. this doesn’t change the way he speaks to them whatsoever, it just adds an extra element of caution to his demeanor. 

are they prone to violent outbursts or thoughts?

to say that he would never have an outburst would be a lie, but, i mean. the chance of it happening is like.... 0.001%. he is so utterly desensitized to violence that he can hardly even recognize it as such when it happens anymore, especially if there’s only a single target being maimed and there’s no one around to scream about it the horror of it all. 

what are their creative outlets?

his transmutation nen is the main source — while conjuration is rather straightforward, there is a lot of variation to be had in manifesting ice crystals or frigid winds with his nen, and he messes around with it whenever the thought occurs to him to try something out in a particular set of circumstances. 

do they tend to rely on words or actions more?

words and actions are one in the same to him. if he speaks something, he wouldn’t hesitate to act on it as well. if he acts on something, he would have no trouble relaying it in words. there is nothing ambiguous about the way he goes about things and that is his greatest strength as a member of the troupe. 

[whenallelsefails-eatpie]

Finally Answering Questions for y’all

Q1: How tall or short do you wish you were?

I used to wish I was taller because I already am tall for an (AGAB)female (5′8 1/2) but then I learned about platforms so. 

4: What was your favorite video game growing up?

Monkey Ball or Sonic Adventure Escape the City...I only had a Gamecube.

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Warning: Uses humor as a defense mechanism but will quickly become extremely invested in you  and give you immense amounts of unending love if they vibe w you

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic]

Melancholic

9: Are you ticklish?

extremely, on my back and sides (use this information wisely. I take no responsibility for involuntarily punching anyone who tickles me)

10: Are you allergic to anything?

absolutely nothing, allergies are to weed out the weak. (jkjk no eugenics here sis you slay that epipen)

11: What’s your sexuality?

~ pansexual  ~ (prefer agab [not cis, those are two different things] females)

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa?

tea, then coffee with cocoa. I don’t enjoy cocoa or coffee as much separately.

37: What is your eye color?

hazel/green 

38: Introvert or extrovert?

I’m ambiverted but lean toward introversion. 

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings?

oh yeah absolutely, I personally just prefer that the tattoos aren’t on your face.  Or with piercings that they don’t take up so much of your face that I can’t see what you really look like.

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now?

pink, red, or platinum 56: Something that calms you down?

reading, playing instruments, taking a bath, cooking or baking

57: Have any mental disorders?

yessir. ADD, anxiety. and I used to have really bad depression. Now my depression is simply manageable lol. 

73: What is your MBTI type?

INFP (enneagram 4)

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

surprisingly yes, will I come close to passing out? Maybe. But I can.

87: Do your socks always match?

never, I hate matching my socks unless the socks are funky and need to match to give them the biggest bang for their buck. 

92: A store you hate?

Dick’s sporting goods. I have been dragged around that place for hours and absolutely nothing there interests me. (edit: I found a beanie that I liked but my previous opinion still stands)

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

start counting and never stop. If you mean in terms of actual measurements like cups/ounces, I can drink 20. What can I say I’m from New England.

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

Definitely fly because that might help lessen my fear of heights

95: Do you like to wear camo?

literally shoot me if you ever see me wearing camo. please, I beg you. that will be me at my lowest point 

96: Winter or summer?

Autumn. Next question.

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

3-4 minutes. It’s all that breath control from musical theatre.

99: Someone you look up to:

Jughead Jones. Yes I said that, fight me. He is completely himself and he allows the different facets of his personality to shine through to people that he loves and cares about. He is loyal and caring but also unique and resilient. Plus his fave food is burgers which is an instant win for me.

100: A store you love?

Hot Topic, Barnes and Nobles, Savers or any thriftstore 

102: Where do you live?

New England bb (; gettin that dark academia aesthetic straight from the source

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

Amber

105: Do you drink milk?

You mean out of the glass? Like a psychopath? Like a serial killer? Absolutely not

106: Do you like bugs?

I do! Except for spiders and mosquitoes (although I’m warming up to spiders)

109: Can you draw:

Eh yeah ig, well enough. I draw realistically but I’m not great at animated style. 

111: A question you hate being asked?

“Are you a boy or a girl?” (like why? does it personally affect you? are you planning on boning me? if not then buzz off)

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

Yes, but only at night when the beach is quiet. I’m not a huge fan of the beach during the day

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

Rainy or sunny. Don’t go givin me the clouds with none of the drizzle.

119: Favorite thing about a person: 

Personality first and foremost. Humor and kindness. But physically; their smile and mannerisms. 

120: Fruits or vegetables?

Veggies (or berries i like berries)

121: Something you want to do right now:

Run away... ahah. But in all honesty I would love to go mushroom foraging rn, or possibly go on an adventure. Maybe go put on clothing meant for an entirely different time period and run around Target idk.

123: Sweet or sour foods?

Definitely not sour I hate sour. Spoonfeed me wasabi, that I can handle. But if you make me eat a Warheads I will cry. 

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

I personally have a lot of problems with the funeral industry, so I would rather not take up space and rot preservation chemicals into the earth. But if I had an interim tombstone with no body underneath, it would read “Live Laugh Love” bc ~irony~

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

that I’m very individualistic and stubborn

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

Yes absolutely, that’s what they’re there for.

134: Do you like roller coasters?

Do I like feeling like I’m about to full send through the crust of the earth and die? No. No I do not. (I am a simple person, I go to carnivals for the food and to feed off terror.) 139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

Cookie

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

OH YEAH absolutely, I am a repressed gen z homosexual raised in a homophobic religious atmosphere, I am practically born with a therapist assigned to me.

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

Definitely good -_- unfortunately. Catch me bein the mom friend.

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

I prefer giving, but I am learning how to recieve. 

144: What makes you angry

People who live their lives in willful ignorance despite the endless resources available to them and let that ignorance hurt others.

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

All of em. Gimme em all. I don’t like boys as much currently but I would still probably lay my life on the line for some. 

147: Are you androgynous?

Yes. It’s more fluid than it is being in consistent limbo between masc and femme. Usually I’m androgynous but I often swing wildly between both ends of that socially perceived spectrum. 148: Favorite thing about yourself physically?

My hands or smile(product of bracesTM). But I have been told I have nice hands. 

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

I am a very strong blend of wise and class clown. I can do em both, I can do em well, and I can do em whenever. I also care a lot about others but I don’t change myself to be accepted by them. 

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person.

MLK Jr. --> I want to gain perspective on some of the current global issues. Jesus --> I’ve got a lot of questions for that dude. JRR Tolkien bc he’s incredible or Joan of Arc for the same reason

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

Ooh well, as a woman not many eras are desirable. But um probably either the 70s or Ancient Greece

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

YES. GIMME UR FINGERS > i meant that to sound much less threatening than it did but my statement still stands. 155: Do you like to play with others’ hair?

Yes it’s literally one of my favorite things to do. I hab empty lap. *pat pat* U may lay your head on it and watch Rilakkuma and Kaoru with me while I play with your hair. pls. 157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

Women..... That’s it. That’s the tweet.

158: Biggest lie you have ever told:

That I am not a member of the alphabet mafia. (It’s not currently safe for me to come out) Now tell me *shines light in your face* who are your contacts?

164: Do you have long or short hair?

I have medium hair. It’s around the length of a bisexual bob or a good mullet. 

165: Shortest/Longest your hair has ever been:

Shortest was a pixie cut, almost buzzed, amazing. Longest was to my butt and was literally the worst experience in existence. I shall to this day actively rebel against having hair like that again. 

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religion?

Organized religion can suck it. You can’t organize your relationship with God, nor can you stick it into a little manmade box and pretend that you have the ability to create a perfect faith which others have to either follow or perish. It’s arrogant and damaging and hurtful and not at all what Christianity is supposed to mean. 

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

I do. I think it’s important and something we need to think about. I do believe there is something after death, and I like to believe that my life has meaning. I think that questions of creation are important questions to ask and we can’t just ignore them.

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

Yes! It’s fun! Pretty colors!

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

Absolutely. And the ones I didn’t feel like answering I simply omitted.

[fontofmercy-archived]

My ramblings about case for Twinleska

- Despite spending most of their childhood apart, Jerome and Jeremiah can still perfectly minimic each other’s mannerisms and speech to the point where no one can tell the difference. Jerome does this in his first appearance where he’s trying to appear an innocent, loving son (i.e Jermeiah) and Jeremiah of course pretends to be Jerome as part of his first plot post-gas. This shows how vividly they still remember each other.

- We never see Jerome more emotional than when he is confronting Jeremiah about leaving him, it’s clear that more than the horrific physical abuse and more than having to murder his own mother (who he didn’t love and for good reason) - Jeremiah leaving him was the worst thing that has ever happened to Jerome and I don’t think it’s just because the abuse probably increased in severity after that (although Jerome’s abuse is NOT Jeremiah’s fault and I made a post about that on my old blog*). I think it’s also because Jerome lost the only person who was ever on his side and who understood him. I firmly believe that Jerome did do something that made Jeremiah genuinely afraid of him (also explained *) and I imagine he probably behaved aggressively or even possibly abusively towards Jeremiah because he was desperate to hold onto the only person that he actually loves (similarly to how Jeremiah ends up behaving towards Bruce, he picked it up somewhere).

- There’s also the fact that they don’t want each other dead. Jeremiah cries when he sees his brother’s body. As for Jerome, yes he says that he’s going to kill Jeremiah “of course” but I am 99.9% certain that he didn’t mean that and was just fucking with Jeremiah because he’s spiteful about the attempted murder stories. Jerome planned for Jeremiah to get sprayed and become like him, you could argue that he planned to drive jeremiah insane and then kill him but that doesn’t make much sense. See, Jerome doesn’t see “driving Jeremiah mad” as a punishment, he thinks being insane is a good thing (and post-gas, Jeremiah sees it as “the gift his brother gave him”) so no I don’t think Jerome meant to punish Jeremiah then kill him, he meant to make Jeremiah see the world the way he does and by doing so permanently bind them together. Sound familiar? Oh, it should 😉

- Jeremiah is a person who needs an obsession to survive, we never see him without someone that consumes his life and drives his every move. It’s quite clear that Jerome was Jeremiah’s obsession at least from the time he left to when he meets Bruce (who replaces Jerome in Jeremiah’s life after his death) but it can be inferred that they were obsessed with each other as children too.

- I’ve been alluding to it but yes, Jeremiah’s obsession with Bruce is an attempt to recreate (and by proxy, fix) his relationship with Jerome. How do I know that? Because Jeremiah explicitly says so multiple times!

“You’ll be the brother I never had, the one Jerome never could be.”

“If I can’t have you as a brother bonded by love...we’ll just have to be bonded by hatred.”

The second line in particular: brothers failing to bond through love so becoming bonded through hatred. That is literally Jerome and Jeremiah’s relationship in canon! Meaning that Jeremiah’s love for Jerome is the only source of reference that he has to love Bruce (because that’s the only other person he’s loved, Ecco was a favored tool and his mother was a delusion).

As I said earlier: Jeremiah tries to force Bruce to see lose his mind and see things the way Jeremiah does because he’s convinced that will bond them together because that’s what bonded him to Jerome.

It’s clear that Jeremiah has non-platonic feelings for Bruce, he wouldn’t see Selina specifically (more so than Alfred or anyone else Bruce loves) as competition if he didn’t. So, it follows that Jeremiah wouldn’t be making references to his relationship with his brother unless he had some level of non-platonic feelings for Jerome as well.

So, Jeremiah tries to force his worldview onto Bruce the way that Jerome probably did to him when they were children and the outcome is the same; Jeremiah scares Bruce into abandoning him and falls even deeper into insanity when he “loses the one, the only thing he loves”.

* https://jrluthor.tumblr.com/post/187669992458/im-so-done-seeing-people-act-like-jeremiah-lying

[og-danny-dorito]

Hannibal Lecter Headcanons

(my gay ass over here thirsting over a godamned cannibal, why did god create this walking disaster of horniness and unbridled depression)

S F W :

- as you may know, Hannibal Lecter is a man no short of expectations, a walking spectacle of perfection itself on the surface but a complicated being underneath to test the limits of what a monster really means

- he smokes

- while he's not an avid chain smoker he does do it every once in a while, like after killing someone who was particularly difficult or pondering something that requires deep thought

- he understands if you don't smoke or don't want to have him smoking around you, he'd rather be polite than give into whatever desire he's feeling. he can't stand the shitty ones though, they're just nasty

- he's had a lot of lovers in his life, but he only remembers vividly the few that did not try to change some of his habits out of fear

- he doesn't feel much emotion at all, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel

- although he may not admit it, he wants to be accepted by whoever he cares for over all else. this can tie back to his sister, although he barely feels it since when he was a very young man, not long after her death. he'd rather feel needed, wanted really. but this is only felt in certain moments, such as sitting in silence in a room with someone or watching their movements as they do basic actions that's can entail deeper meanings

- he's very, very good at body language and how to interpret it (obviously) and how to deal with social situations

- as a physiologist he's seen a lot of different mental cases, states of mind, viewpoints, problems, etc. and so being in a relationship with someone who might have something along those lines is literally not a problem (i mean he technically fell in love with will so-)

- I mean it's his job, so he knows how to calm down someone having a panic attack in no time, but if it'ssomeone closer to him he may have a moment of concern before dealing with it accordingly

- feelings aren't exactly something he's used to, for the most part so it'll freak him out a little if he finds himself caring for someone fairly easily. of course he still feels, it's just not as intense as it used to be. it's partially why he “slips” easily when there's a particular event with someone he genuinely cares about, leaving him in a slightly shocked state of acting upon instinct before treating it like anything else

- he's very self controlled, both physically and mentally

- I headcanon that when he was a teenager/young adult (watch Hannibal Rising to get what I mean) he was much less in control of what he felt in that moment. for instance, crying when Lady Murasaki told him to forgive the men he was intending to kill. it must've hurt to have someone so close to him be so disgusted with him like that

- this can also mean that he only feels afflicted emotionally by those he's very close to. lovers not really, but people he considers as those he needs to be up to a particular standard to outside of the realm of decency? it hurts when you look at him like you're scared of him, dissaproving of what he's doing as if you're negating his efforts

- he cares about you, only you

- seriously, there's not much he genuinely cares about enough to want to keep safe for all eternity, but you're his everything. you're not just some fucktoy, you're a person, a mind, and he wants to control and watch you tick like a clock he intends to take apart and rebuild. seriously, he just wants you to love him as much as he loves you

- it's very likely that you were kidnapped against your will

- he doesn't want a partner he can control, or minipulate easily without a serious challenge. he's not much of a sadist, but he'd like to see you strain under whatever kindof inflictions he's dealing mentally. he wants to see you resist, try to fight back. it's no time any fun to dissect something that's fragile and weak

- like Michael Myers (Aka: 100% That Bitch) he wants someone strong and full of courage, someone he can see fighting for the innocent or fighting to protect something till the end of the line. your courage is what really gets to him, the fact that you won't let anyone run over you regardless of who they are

- your fighting spirit also gets him just a little bit exited when you talk back to him or snap at him when he's angry with you just an fyi

- anyway back to the less horny shit

- this may seem off topic but do you remember when deadpool’s creator said he was “pansexual” by giving a really bad definition for it and lowkey seeming kindof ignorant on what being pansexual is?

- Hannibal is sort of like that pansexual, but think of him as only liking someone when it's convenient. usually he only pretends to be romantically interested in someone because it gains him the upper hand, both males and females, but down to his core he's probably not capable of falling in love with someone unless he seriously, genuinely means it. so far this has only been males and females (cough cough lady murasaki, will graham, etc. cough cough)

- for him to genuinely love someone you need to first love him platonically, actually giving off the feeling of really caring for his wellbeing, even if he does eat people. unless he doesn't really like you prior to having you love him, he'll end up finding himself drawn to you

- it's very rare that he'll love someone first, but in the instance he does it'll probably end in a Stockholm Syndrome sort of thing where you end up loving him eventually. it's kindof dogmatic, but I mean that's just how it is. he's an intelligent psychopath with an understand of humans’ brain patterns. do you really not expect him to use that to his advantage?

- if you do expect it tho and you're still into that then you may just be a horny bastard dude idk what to tell u

- phsycially id suspect that he'd want someone who physically is weaker than him. it's a reminder of sorts, that he still has power over you no matter what. if you're shorter he's definitely into that too but this doesn't mean he isn't into beefcakes

- tbh, he kindof likes a rugged sort of look on someone. while he does like to feel powerful, he also enjoys being able to have a worthy opponent. scars are also fascinating to him. to him it's almost like art, precious and unique in their own way. plus, he himself said they were reminders of the past, so they must have good stories attached to them

- oOO ppl in suits are nice too. like godam dude if you walk up wearing a nice suit looking all clean cut n shit there's a 100% chance you're getting rawed before you can even walk out the door

- in his free time, he'd rather spend time with you above all else. simply having you in the room is nice for him, regardless of how busy he is. if he's working he'd prefer you on his lap or sitting right next to him

- physical affection is something he's actually pretty damn good with, considering his hand is almost always on you. you can think of this as one of his Jedi mind tricks to let you know you're his, but he's kindof shy about it in public the first time

- but his shyness changes once he sees that if his hand isn't directly on you people...gawk at you. and he HATES that

- you'll feel a sudden hand fly to your waist, pulling you closer as he seems not to even register what he's doing. you squeak

- “h-hey! What was that for?”

- “Should I have asked permission first, or do you like the roughness?”

- “Is this because that guy was looking at me too much?”

- “...are you implying that I'm jealous?”

- “Oh my god-”

- yeah, he’ll deny it when asked if he's being jealous, but he is. he's very, very jealous and very very possessive. of course he's already pretty well composed, and he's a master at hiding his facial expressions, but that doesn't mean he won't quirk a brow or exhale slowly if you're being provoked in any way shape or form. expect the person who was annoying you to be gone. but don't worry about their suspicious dissapearence, instead sit down and have dinner! he's serving a nice pot pie with some Brussels sprouts and whatever other side dish you want! where'd the meat come from? that's not important, just relax

- he's sure he made the person more exquisite now that you actually enjoy them without having to talk to them

- oh! he obviously does most of the cooking, but if you can cook he's definitely up to critique and give you advice. of course you can only use his cuts of meat, and he'd much rather help you with cooking than let you do all the work. domestically he's the perfect partner since he's already fairly good at living on his own, and prefers to take care of others rather than get taken care of

- idealy he'd like to go out to a nice place to eat for a date, or just spending some time alone with you in front of the fire is fine with him. as long as you're near him. he dislikes places where there's too many people or just not a good area of town to be in in the first place, but honestly he's always been inclined to things that reek of upper class or fancy themes

- he loves to spoil you too, buying you nice things or nice clothes and making you wear them almost all the time. he doesn't really expect anything in return, but if you can't figure out a gift that's within your paycheck you can always make him something or pay him in - EHEM - other ways (you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

- although it's kindof sad, he's got a lot of ptsd from when he was a child. of course he's not open to talking about it, but just staying with him when he has a nightmare or placing your hands on his waist when he's in that state will calm him down in no time, although it's very rare 

- he'd never hurt you, but he can grow a bit distant at times when he's particularly angry. if your relationship is more manipulative, he might resort to mental abuse as a way to keep you in line. but it's unlikely you'll even be living for very long if that's what your relationship is

- hannibal’s a man of few words, so he may not say I love you very often. he means it though when he does, although it's hard to get out the first time

- he's a one of a kind lover outside of the whole killing people thing, so once you actually get used to his cannibalistic ways and meet all his standards so as not to hurt you, expect to be treated like a queen/king that even outshines the greatest nobles. you are his, and it will take divine intervention from Satan himself to keep you apart as far as he's concerned

[russian-romanova]

didn’t give me time to say goodbye

title: didn’t give me time to say goodbye

pairing: (platonic-ish) peter parker x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, mild language? nothing you wouldn’t see in a marvel movie. it’s mostly a platonic x reader, but you could also look at it like a very chill romantic one I suppose. they’re just best pals at the moment but maybe someday. :)

notes: the title is from “pigeon” by cavetown + takes place during infinity war. in this, you’re a superhero, and you can kind of imagine that your powers are like that of firestar from the comics. :) this is my first work so any suggestions on tips to write/what to write would be super helpful. enjoy! 

                                                      +        +       +

You should have stayed on the bus. 

That was, of course, fairly selfish to think, but you didn’t know what else to do in this sort of situation. You had woken up, thinking it would just be a normal day, besides your field trip to MOMA, of course. You were excited, truthfully. Field trips in high school were rare, and even if they were meant to be educational, it was still something besides school. 

You didn’t even get a chance to really enjoy the bus ride — when you had intended to talk to your group of friends that made an effort to all sit together, of course — but you hadn’t been on the road for more than 20 minutes before your best friend and also fellow superhero Peter Parker had his whole arm-hair-warning-sense thing and it seemed student life was put on hold. After some silent deliberation, you decided to go check it out. You had noticed that Tony had a habit of “forgetting” to tell you when these sorts of things happened, but in the back of your mind, you knew that he didn’t like involving the two of you in these sorts of things. 

“This looks bad,” Peter had pointed out as he swung towards the massive, looming donut of death that was currently camping out above New York. You were flying nearby, but his uneven movement that came with web-slinging made in impossible to be directly next to each other. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” You shouted over the noise, “I mean, at least nothing the Avengers can’t handle right?” These were the moments of being a superhero you lived for. The adrenaline before the actual fight, where you didn’t have to really worry about the consequences of sneaking away from the school bus, but the thought of whatever that evil spaceship brought with it still seemed so far away. 

You had your powers for what seemed like forever but had only been a superhero since Tony Stark had sought you and Peter out to help him hash it out on at an airport against THE Captain America. He had come to you first, although you had never understood why. From the moment the two of you had gone to Peter’s small apartment in Queens, the spider-ling was his favorite. 

You and Peter had quickly bonded, both fans of each other’s powers and the two youngest members of the Avengers. Your talks didn’t always have to focus on being superheroes, and it often didn’t. You quickly discovered that in a year, you would both be attending the same high school and Peter took it upon himself to introduce you to his friends so that they could be yours as well.

Ahead of you, Peter’s pace quickened as you could see Central Park come into view, and more importantly️, Tony himself. Peter arrived just in time to stop a blow from a very large and scary-looking alien, leaving the mentor to greet both of you in surprise. 

“Kids,” Tony asked as you helped him scurry away from the alien’s hammer. “Where’d you come from?”

“Field trip to MoMA-” Peter was cut off he was grabbed by the alien and thrown. 

You weren’t really worried about him; he had been through much worse and been perfectly fine. “What is this guy’s problem, Mr. Stark?” You asked Tony as your eyes flicked between Peter swinging back to you guys and the alien. 

“He’s from space. He came to steal a necklace from a wizard.” Tony explained, and you shrugged. You had certainly heard stranger.

As if on cue, you saw what must have been the wizard fly through the air, chased by yet another alien. 

“Kids, that’s the alien. Go get it.” Tony ordered, and you and Peter went after him. You did, in fact, get to fight an alien from space, which was super cool. Less cool was the fact that you were most certainly losing. 

When you were sure it couldn’t get any worse, a giant blue light shot out of the sky and sucked both Peter and you into the giant menacing donut. You had never been in a spaceship, and as the air rushed against your mask you decided that you would be fine staying on earth. The universe seemed to have very different ideas.

Although your mask was circulating oxygen throughout your lungs and body, both you and Peter quickly realized that he wouldn’t be able to do the same. 

“Peter, be careful,” You warned him, the both of you clinging to the side of the donut ship for your lives. 

Tony’s voice came through your comms, “Pete, you gotta let go. I’m gonna catch you.”

You looked below you, seeing absolutely nothing but the outline of Earth and the engulfing darkness of space. “Um, from where exactly?” “But you said save the wizard!” Peter ignored you, stubbornly trying to remain as he pulled off his Spider-Man mask. “I can’t breathe,” He pointed out, panting. 

“Peter, you’re too high up,” You looked over at him. “You don’t have a mask, not like I do. You’re running out of air!” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense.” For a moment, Peter rolls backward and you think he put his trust in Tony and is falling as he suggested. However, you note that his eyes are shut and he quite literally passed out and fell from the ship. You call out his name, but Tony doesn’t give you much time to worry as one of his contraptions fly at Peter, attaching to him and engulfing him in a new metal suit. Peter, able to now breathe, quickly shot up. “Mr. Stark, it smells like a new car in here!” 

“What about me?” You asked Tony. “Do I get one or are you picking favorites now?” 

You heard Tony chuckle. “Hang tight, kid.” It only took you a moment before you saw a small contraption similar to the one that had caught Peter heading towards you. Wordlessly, you jumped to it, letting it catch and form around you. Your new suit was now metal, and you looked at Peter and laughed. “Happy trails, you two.” You heard Tony speak from your comms, and you looked to see if he was coming your way. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., send ‘em home.” Both Peter and you cried out in annoyance as your suits burst out parachutes and sent you flying back to earth. 

It took Peter longer than he’d like to admit to remember that he did, in fact, have literal spider powers and was easily able to throw a web at the ship and quickly stick himself back, releasing the parachute. With his free hand, he shot a web toward you, effectively grabbing onto you as well. After catching your breath and thanking him, you began to both make quick work towards your goal of getting inside the ship. 

Peter was able to find a panel that was loose enough to move and slip inside, and you managed to help make the hole a little larger by burning the alien metal around it. The two of you quickly slipped inside, only to be met with an annoyed Tony and what looked like a floating cape. 

“You should not be here,” Tony pointed an annoyed finger between Peter and you. 

You jumped in before Peter could say something, which was probably inevitable. “You know, we were gonna go home, but it was such a long way down and we didn’t wanna leave you behind.” You explained, using your hands more as you tried to sway Tony, who was attempting to talk over you. 

“I kinda stuck to the side of the ship,” The boy next to you explained. “And this suit is ridiculously intuitive, by the way. So if anything, it's kinda your fault that we’re here.” 

Both Tony and the cloak next to him seemed to be taken aback by Peter’s kind-of-insult-but-kind-of-compliment. “What did you say.”

“Yeah, he didn’t mean it like that. But now we’re here.” You pointed out. 

Tony sighed. “You could not have possibly thought this through.”

“It's just- You can't be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man when there's no neighborhood.” Peter’s voice was sounding a little desperate as if he would go back if Tony insisted but staying here was all he had ever dreamed of. You, on the other hand, were ready to physically fight Tony if he tried to send you back to earth. 

“Okay. That didn't really make any sense, but you know what he’s trying to say.” You clarified, sticking a hand up. 

Tony took a breath in. “Come on. We got a situation.” Tony lead the two of you to look over the edge of where you were standing, only to see what you were pretty sure was the wizard in an uncomforting situation. “See him down there? He's in trouble. What's your plan? Go.”

“Um. Okay, okay, uh…” Peter fumbled over his words, looking to you for reassurance. “Did you guys ever see this really old movie, Aliens?”

+   +   +

It all went by so fast. You saved the wizard, became Avengers, met another group of heroes who called themselves “The Guardians”, traveled -- crash-landed, rather -- on a whole new planet, and met with what you were told was the biggest threat, Thanos. Met wasn’t the word you should have used, more like you were completely demolished by the purple alien. He had a large golden gauntlet with multiple infinity stones attached and the goal of attaining all six. With them, he could do unspeakable things, and you had one goal to stop him from getting them. You had one goal and you failed.

There was a moment when you had been so close, but Peter Quill, one of the Guardians, had been overcome with emotion and had messed up. You had all messed up, really, because if it had all gone according to plan you would be looking at the dead body of Thanos, not at the sight of an empty planet. 

Thanos was gone, and all you and the people you had seemingly lost with were exhausted and beyond all else, terrified. You hoped, of course, that it wouldn’t work. There was still one more stone that he needed, which meant one more chance for someone to stop him. Judging by the five other attempts made by some of the most powerful people you knew, however, in the back of your mind hope was already gone. 

“There’s so many superheroes and stuff on Earth, right?” Peter was speaking out loud. The two of you had been sitting over to the side to watch over an injured Tony, who had been stabbed by Thanos.  “They’ll get him. They’ll get Thanos.” His voice was shaking, you noticed, and you turned your head to him. Peter’s brown eyes were cast down at Tony, although he only seemed to be looking through him. This was the real deal, all of this alien stuff. It seemed to be hitting your friend much faster than it was hitting you. 

“Hey,” Your hand moved to his shoulder, causing Peter to look up at you. “They’ll do it. We’ll be fine.” He looked between your eyes for a moment before calming down a little, nodding to himself. 

“We’ll just…” Tony spoke a little before grunting, shifting his position a little. “Rest up here a little longer before we go back to the ship.” 

You nodded in agreement as Peter spoke for both of you. “Right, Mr. Stark. Whenever you’re ready, sir.” He fumbled over his words, still evidently nervous, but you hoped he would get better as time went on. 

Tony chuckled but remained silent for a moment. “Go check on the others, kids.” Once more, you nodded. Everyone else seemed to be ready to move on, from helping each other up to scanning the now almost empty planet for anything they might have missed.

All it took was a second for everything to change.

Mantis was the first to realize as she looked from person to person. “Something is happening…” You had been looking at Peter helping Tony stagger to his feet that it took you a moment to even look around at the alien. It wasn’t until you caught Peter’s look of horror that you were met with Mantis’ figure — or lack thereof. 

Slowly, before your very eyes, Mantis turned to dust. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, mind searching for something you might have missed, something that would help make sense of this impossible loss. Before you could open your mouth to speak, however, it was happening to Drax next. He only had time to say the name of his captain before crumbling as well. 

Peter Quill was next, and Tony realized it just as soon as he did. “Steady, Quill.” He broke away from Peter’s support and you followed his lead, jogging over to Quill.

“Aw, man.” He managed, his face twisting into unmistakable dread as he disintegrated into the air. 

Your eyes remained on Quill for a moment longer, guilt and confusion building in your stomach. What was happening to the guardians? Was it something you missed — something they hadn’t told you. 

“Tony, there was no other way.” From behind you, Doctor Strange spoke to the man beside you. You didn’t even turn around because, for a meant, you were so caught up in why this was happening to the guardians that you never considered that your own team might meet the same fate. 

When you did turn around, it was slowly and regretfully, as it going too fast might make it all the more true. Your actions no longer mattered, and Doctor Strange was dead.

You met the tired eyes of Tony Stark since he was closest to you. Your head had begun pounding and you couldn’t remember who else was here with you, who else to be worried about. Tony maintained the gaze with you, becoming too scared to look away. You had never seen Tony this scared before, and with a single realization you understood why, and your eyebrows turned into a terrified expression. Peter.

“Y/N? Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice got your attention, drawing you back into reality as you turn your gaze to him in slow motion. “I don’t feel so good,” It hit you like a bolt of lightning as you realized whatever was happening to the guardians and Doctor Strange was happening to your best friend. 

“Peter,” Your arms extended and you didn’t even have to think about trying to catch him. Tony was giving his own words of comfort as he rushed up behind you, and you knew the pain on his face without looking because it reflected your own expression. ”Peter, hey.” 

He tried to steady himself as his arms gripped onto your lower arms. “I don’t know what’s happening,” He sounded so close to tears that it only made your face contort more, trying to keep the tears from falling. Maybe, you hoped for a split second, maybe he wasn’t going to dust away like you had watched so many of your newfound friends do. Maybe Peter would be okay, and maybe you could make it out of here, the three of you. 

As he lost his footing, however, leaving you to swiping around with him, trying to lead him gracefully to the ground, you knew all hope was lost. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t-“ You were on one side, Tony on the other as Peter’s terrified words stumbled out. “I don’t want to go,” He begged, crying now. It hurt you more than you imagined the death itself would have hurt you. You went into this battle prepared to handle your own pain, even your own demise, but never his. Never Peter’s. “Please, I don’t want to.” He looked from you, his best friend, to Tony, his mentor, and father figure. You couldn’t help yourself as wet tears began rolling down your face. You had never been good at containing that sort of thing. 

Peter paused, his face seeming incredibly adult and solemn for a moment. Acceptance, you realized. Peter had managed to accept it, at least a little, before he managed out, “I’m sorry.” With that, you saw the transition of person to dust, flying away from you like a breath. Tony lunged forward as if to catch Peter and stop him from disappearing. You, on the other hand, stumbled backward, choked sobs lodging themselves in your throat. 

From behind, you heard Nebula mutter, “He did it.” For a split second, you were angry at her. How could she say something so unimportant and in thoughtful? Who the hell could care about Thanos when your friends — your best friend, more importantly — just died in front of your eyes? 

You sifted up a bit when you turned your face back to look at her, only to find the same look of pain painted across her blue countenance. 

Bitterly, you turned back around to look at a mourning Tony near where Peter should have been. 

You should have stayed on the bus. 

[electric-sugar-darling]

“Other”

For as long as I've known, I've been "other."

I am "other" in the eyes of a dominantly white American census. They see my brown skin (though sometimes, they claim to not "see color.") They see my smaller, almond-shaped eyes. They hear my speaking voice that, while occasionally quiet and stuttering, but firm when it comes to things I am passionate about, seems to blend with the American standard. Not a "foreign" accent anywhere within earshot. Though when I would go back to visit the Philippines in the past, I'd occasionally get poked at for sounding like an "American boy." But hearing how I speak now, it is assumed the colonization has worked, and that I am relatable from an American perspective. Yet when I speak of the cultural dissonance and assimilation I have faced in this country as a first generation Filipino immigrant growing up stateside, I'm told I just need to "work harder" and "be more confident," but assured that I am "beautiful" regardless. Honey, you don't know the half of how hard I've "worked," and what exactly I've "worked" on, to make my supposed "confidence" what it is today, to bring it to an acceptable level for me to play whatever functional role I am meant to play in this modern American society. But thanks for calling me beautiful, I guess. I am "other" when it comes to Filipino ethnicity and culture, because even though I am Filipino, I still struggle to fully connect with it, beyond reading up on histories, cultural norms, and current events of my home country as an adult, but never got to fully absorb and internalize as a child because I moved to the States when I was four years old. As such, I was too busy in my childhood attempting to fit into the white American standard to which schools are subconsciously defaulted in this country, under the guise of the United States being a "melting pot." The concept of a melting pot is so colorful, and attractive, and appealing, and almost comforting to a little brown child born in one country, but brought to an entirely new country, before education and social interactions could really even begin for that child ("that child" is Me, if I've lost you.) But the problem with the idea of a melting pot is that when things melt down, the individuality of the different flavors lose themselves when they all attempt to come together. And while visually, everything seems to have combined into one, it is still incongruous. Certain flavors overpower others or cancel them out completely, especially when there's too much of one, and only a pinch of "other." The idea of melting implies that everything has amalgamated into one, to make it easier to digest for the mass palate, specifically the status quo. The cost is that celebrating genuine individuality and uniqueness is (literally) lost in the mix, under the guise of "unity." But thanks for tagging me in your post about lumpia, I guess. I am "other" as a gay man, in a sea of image-obsessed, chiseled bodies, meant primarily for the white porn star standard of 'beach bod 5'9".' There's no room for overweight. There's no room for too tall. No room for stretch marks. No room for extra skin left over from weight loss, even though I was under the baseless assurance that losing weight would equal me being supposedly more "desirable." No room for being "too masculine looking" for guys that prefer their bottoms to be more feminine, twinky, and submissive. No room for not being masculine ENOUGH, as is the general dominant desirability factor in the endless swipes of hook-up app profiles, over which my thumb has all but burned itself off. Masc4MaskedToxicMasculinity, bro. No room for not being confident in yourself, even though you were picked apart for all those things on dating websites, until my outward physical appearance started to try and fit into these "desirable" niches and archetypes. There's plenty of room for Asians, apparently. Until they find out I (literally) don't fit in their fetishistic image of small, meek, petite Asian. I also get the occasional gem of "Man, I'm usually not into Asians, but..." or "Man, you're exotic looking." Big fucking yikes, bro. Yes, I am probably looking for gratification in all the wrong places. But even though I am gradually becoming more accepting of the parts of me that I previously hated, tried to hide, or distance myself from because I was made to believe they were ugly, the past emotional pangs still scratch at me, and I find myself going back to square one when I default to re-opening that dating app when I get that carnal urge, to try and feel better about myself. But thanks for sending me a wink, I guess. I am "other" in a society dominated by heteronormative romantic prospects. Soulmates, getting married, having kids, having one true love, love at first sight, true love's kiss. From a very young age, all of this is pushed onto us as something we had to strive for. An ultimate goal that we are meant to pursue, otherwise we are viewed as crazy, as spinsters, as eccentric and lonely old crones, as if any of these things were the most horrible things in the world to be viewed as. As a child, I had little playground crushes here and there. And as I got a little older, when I was faced with the possibility (turned reality) of being gay, I had crushes on boys, too. But I also had to push that away from my mind, because gay was that taboo thing no one ever talked about, or else it would be either vilified or mocked. But all these crushes were just fluffy, meaningless, outward attractions. I never felt any sort of romantic attraction. And as I got older, the idea of romance was a concept that never clicked with me. I've had exactly two boyfriends in the past, which, at the time, I considered "love." But was it really? Or was it because I was in the standardized view of a two-person mutual relationship with this person, that I instantly equated it as "love." I've never been able to fully make the connection of what exactly "romance" is. I take a very long time to open up to people. But when I do trust somebody enough, I tell them everything about me, the secrets, the ins, the outs, the whispers and screams of my heart, my dreams, my hopes, my despairs. But is that romance? Maybe it can be, but it wasn't for me. Because my closest friends and family are also people I've told all those private things to. Is it love? Sure. A platonic love. But I don't equate it to being romantically attracted to my friends or family. Is romance hand-holding and kissing? I've gone on dates and "seen" guys in the past, where we've kissed and held hands, even had sex. But did I consider any of it romance? Not in the slightest. Is romance sweet, thoughtful gestures? I do my best to show my friends and family I care with gestures whenever I am able, or sometimes, simply listening or offering words. But again, does that mean I am romantically attracted or linked to them? No. And so for a while, I thought I was some sociopath that simply was not capable of romantic love. Until I read about the spectrum of aromanticism. People who feel intense platonic love, and value these many important platonic relationships in their lives equally, but have never related to this idea of finding one specific fulfilling "love" above all others (the romantic kind) as something different than the other platonic relationships they have in their lives. I've never subscribed to the notion of ONE soulmate, because anybody that has made a profound impact in my life with whom I've shared a meaningful and long-lasting connection, and who fully understand me and accept me as I do them, I consider them a soulmate. I have many I consider "soulmates." And honestly, I'm tired of being told I "just haven't found the right one yet," when I have plenty of the "right ones" in my life right now. But thanks for suggesting that rom-com to me, I guess. I have lived my entire life in constant dissonance (which might explain why I like abstract 20th century composers.) Not necessarily because I WANTED to live in dissonance, but simply because any time I was simply trying to BE, there was pushback, or criticism, or questioning, which in turn, made me push back, criticize, and question myself. I have lived my life as perpetually "other," but for a time, believed it was a terrible thing to be anything "other" than what everybody else was doing or being. But I have lived through enough dissonance to realize that living against the grain is essentially what has gotten me this far in life. And although it was a difficult and uneven road to self-acceptance (and I still occasionally struggle with lingering pangs of insecurity to this day), this road is mine and mine alone. And without me on it, there would be no other.

[tasmanianstripes]

22, 23, 25, 26, 54, 63

YEEHAW BABES, COUPLES TIME. 22 was already answered though also slapping in Slaughter since they're Peter's partner

23. Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

Damien: He usually sticks to the 7 deadly sins and the ex 7 deadly sins aka the fallen angels, he especially likes the company of Boris, Lust, Satan and Lucifer. He naturally also has bodyguards and actually hired one of his childhood friends as one and they like to hang together.

Theo and Hestia: Usually hang with the same crowd, especially after joining the Elements, although Hestia is considerably more social and her brother just kind of follows her around. Hestia did prefered to hang out with Harvest (same flavour of lovable dumbass) and Night, while Theo mostly spent time with Famine and by extension War, sometimes he liked to hang with Death too. The fact that War and Theo didn't liked each other at first makes this fucking hilarious too, guess they're masochists! Anyways, the whole Hestia being social and Theo being her follower was kept constant where ever they went, be it Earth or other planet, so Hestia's buddies are Theo's buddies also.

War: Mostly hanged out with other Elements, especially his siblings and Famine, later on Theo too. He doesn't really mingle with mortals, he doesn't see the post as their entire life spans are like a blink of an eye for him. Still, he sometimes goes out and spends time by himself or woos the ladies just for fun, it's just that spending time with the same 13 people for billions of years can get very repetitive, ya feel?

Blitz: He's not very social so his friend circle is very small, consist of his and Am's closest friends. He does end up hanging out with Am's work friends, and unfortunately for him his wife's coworkers are VERY interested in him, lmao.

Peter: He's very asocial, the only people he spends time with is his brother and roommate Sam, Sam's gf and friend when they come over (he doesn't like them that much anyways), later on gets a temporary boyfriend Cliff so he hangs with him. Ends up mostly spending time with Isagani, Tabitha, Masquerade and Havoc, mostly because he got tangled up on all that monster shit by Slaughter, but he does end up geniously being friends with Isa and Tabitha. Oh and I guess Slaughter counts too, but they do share a body.

Slaughter: They are not very popular among other monsters, unless you count being a popular target to mock and bully, as such they only really hang out with Havoc and Masquarade. When they posses Peter they eventually come to like him a lot. Kind of hangs around Isagani and Tabitha, they're important to Havoc and Peter so they don't mind them, they do kind of like them they just wouldn't call them friends, ya know? Now, as for Sam, his gf and his friend, they REALLY don't like them, especially Samuel, but tolerate them for the sake of Peter.

25. If your OC has a soulmate, who is it?

Damien: I uh... I kind of ship him with Lucifer and Satan LMAO, although he probably gets along with Lucifer better, at least at first. But I feel his true soulmate would be Boris, not romantically though. They're just two halves of the same clown.

Hestia: Doesn't have a romantic soulmate, but a platonic one... I'm just sayin, once again, Harvest and her are the same flavour of lovable dumbass.

Theo and War: The bastards are obviously each other's soulmates, though they denied it for soooo fucking long. There's actually a cool little thing in their universe, that if the two elements manage to combine their attacks (like powers) and make a new one, they're truly meant for each other. They accidentally made dark fire together while fighting side by side and Hestia would not let them live that down :')

Blitz: His wife 💕 he loves his wife so much

Peter and Slaughter: They seem to be made for each other, which is hilarious because at first I didn't even intended for them to be friends lmao, Peter was just Slaughter's pkaytoy, but their personalities just fit together so well

26. Why does your OC and his/her soulmate work so well together?

Damien: He's just a lovable bastard honestly. Him and Lucifer are really fucking soft and made great friends before even starting to date, meantime Satan is...more complicated situation, but he still works with Damien, they just need some time. Overall I think they work because both fallen angels are very nurturing and sweet and DAMIEN NEEDS THAT SHIT.

Theo and War: They're two chaotic fucking bastards that just work well together! Even when they couldn't stand each other they couldn't be kept away from each other, they both are that stubborn bastard type hence they clashed at first. They share a lot of common interests and love talking to each other. They're just a firey couple :')

Blitz: Opposites attract, as they say! Blitz is the literal opposite of his wife, yet they both love each other very deeply and live spending time together, although they do not share that many interests they do like to get invested in their spouse's interest, like Blitz listening to his wife talk about horse breeds, or her watching him paint and trying along with him even though she sucks at it. They're just lovely together.

Peter and Slaughter: The opposite of the previous case, although at first glance their situations seem different they really aren't that far from each other, they bond over their similar experiences and feelings, and help one another.

54. Does your OC think with his/her head or heart?

Damien: Heart. Unfortunately emotions always get the best of him.

Hestia: Heart, she's the dreamy idealistic type!

Theo: Head, although it's sometimes really hard he generally tries to put logic first

War: I mean... I don't want to call my boy stupid but uh....hes kind of a himbo. Not that he's a COMPLETE idiot, quite the opposite! He's brilliant in battle strategy! Unfortunately that seems to be everything that he focuses his braincells on. The second fighting isn't involved? Logic flies through the window. Brain has been locked in the trunk, heart's at the wheel and the brakes are removed. Beep beep bitches!

Blitz: He likes to think he thinks with his head first but uh... I mean this man's first sentence mere seconds after meeting his wife and interacting with her for less than 3 minutes was "I think I'm in love"

Peter: Surprisingly, it's the head! You'd think for a guy that has so many problems he'd follow his heart first, and while his feelings make it so fucking hard at times he tries to think with his head first.

Slaughted: Oh this fucker's a helpless romantic and a daydreamer, heart all the way

63. How does your OC display love?

Damien: He does not, usually. He will jokingly first with somebody then immediately panic and run away the second they show geniouse interest in him. Showing affection is really hard for him but if he does it, its usually physical, like snuggles. He's way more open with his affection towards friends though.

Hestia: She will not only tell you she loves you everyday, she will do all sort of little things to show you she appreciates you.

Theo: Mostly likes to show love through actions, would DEFINITELLY write a sappy love song.

War: One again, just like his husband he is more of an action man, although his affection is way more subtle.

Blitz: This bitch is SOFT and will fucking melt and ramble about his lovely wife SO MUCH, he constantly tells her he loves her and shows her his love through actions too, like physical affection or giving her gifts. She's also most often the subjects of his paintings 👀

Peter: He shows his affection though actions, and is subtle about it too. I mean Slaughter didn't noticed until later, but then again Slaughter is fucking oblivious.

Slaughter: Mostly prefer to show love through action but WILL tell Peter how much they love him and ramble to him about how much they love him, they're also very affectionate and cuddly

[tastes-like-ciel]

Yusaku/Ryoken + lover

!! Lovers! ouo

Yusaku + lover

Yusaku is a very reserved, quiet person. He’s not the type to hug others or let himself be hugged unless it’s either by surprise or from someone he’s very, very close to. Physical touch is something I think Yusaku doesn’t really care for and I mean this in the general sense of someone entering his personal space. I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t want it. I think he does actually! But his childhood trauma really ruined his perception of the world and made him overly wary of others to the point he didn’t want to try getting close to anyone. 

Touching another person, whether platonically or otherwise, is an intimate gesture. It implies closeness and that’s something Yusaku has been heavily avoiding since before we ever met him. He doesn’t want to be close to people and has even said as much. I don’t think it’s necessarily because he dislikes people, but really because he’s afraid of letting someone into his heart–allowing himself to trust and feel–only to be hurt all over again. He doesn’t want to have his trust broken and doesn’t want to suffer any more than he already is. It goes into a bit of what I suspect happened when Ryoken brought Yusaku home to play together and I can go into more detail on that in another post, if someone would like, but for a short version, Yusaku trusted that the adult in his new friend’s life wouldn’t hurt him and was rewarded with six months of torture for it in exchange. Yusaku doesn’t want to let others into his heart because of that experience. 

But he’s changed over the course of the series. He’s more open to people now. He’s even called people his friends and that’s a really big deal! It’s a sign he’s really healing and the point I’d like to make with all this is really just to explain why I view Yusaku as having an aversion to touch. For the tl;dr version, it’s just that. He has an aversion to touch and closeness with other people because of his trauma. Relationships are hard for him and a romantic one would be even more so.

However, for Yusaku to be able to call himself someone’s lover, that person would be very, very, oh so incredibly special to him! That’s a level of trust and closeness beyond anything he could ever imagine and for him to be able to say “yes, this is my lover” would imply that he trusts in this person completely and with his whole mind, heart, and body. Yusaku, as someone’s lover, would be fiercely loyal and eager to be by their side, but as his emotions are so stunted and his experience so nonexistent, he’d be hesitant–even shy–in his advances until he knew what the other person liked and what did and did not feel okay. I can see him secretly trying to research dating and the like for ideas on how lovers should act and generally messing up a lot, but his lover wouldn’t mind and even find all his attempts endearing. They’d know he was trying and then leave Yusaku confused when all his failed attempts still ended up giving him the same results as succeeding would have.

Now sexually (and I won’t go into this too deeply), I peg him as ace or demi. Either one, I think, is a good match and makes sense for his character.

Ryoken + lover

Like Yusaku, Ryoken is fairly reserved. You never really know what he’s thinking and unless he himself decides to tell you or make his opinion on something known, you never will know his thoughts. Unlike Yusaku, however, Ryoken gives away a lot of his emotions through his facial expressions and probably doesn’t even realize it. He’s got a good poker face, but he’s nowhere near Yusaku’s level and while he’s not an open book, there’s still little facial ticks and faint traces of things on his face that he can’t quite hide. Ryoken is used to communicating with others very frequently. His Knights, the mole he has in SOL, etc. He’s well-versed in being a people person, whether it’s an act or not. He’s sociable, to an extent. He has to be in order to lead the Hanoi. So his personal bubble is much smaller than Yusaku’s. He doesn’t mind closeness.

In fact, he probably craves it.

Contrary to Yusaku, touch, in the general sense, is something I think Ryoken is absolutely starved for. It’s clear in all the flashbacks we’ve seen and the information we have about him that he was very lonely as a child. He didn’t have a mother, he didn’t have any friends, and his father neglected him quite harshly (and then later was going to let Ryoken kill himself and take the fall for all of Hanoi’s deeds). Ryoken had Kyoko and Aso, it seems, but considering they were Dr. Kogami’s assistants, they likely didn’t spend that much time with Ryoken either. Ryoken effectively had no one and the one friend he made and brought home to play with was stolen from him and then tortured by his own father. By all accounts, he shouldn’t still care for his father the way he does, but that’s a topic for another time (and one I will happily go into, if anyone likes).

Tl;dr, Ryoken is touch/attention-starved from previous neglect.

So, Ryoken, as someone’s lover, would be amazingly wonderful! To have someone’s complete and total trust, all their love and attention, and all the intimate touches that come with it would overwhelm him with happiness. He’d do absolutely anything and everything short of giving his lover the moon and the stars–and oh would he if he could!–and would just generally make them feel loved and wanted and oh so very important. I can see him being a bit clingy and being unable to keep his hands off his lover, even just something soft and sweet like brushing fingers against his lover’s hand or pressing quick kisses into their hair. He’d be very devoted to them and in turn, would his lover be to he. His lover would give him all the attention and touch he craves and both would have a pretty nice life together overall.

Sexually, I think a lot of things can fit Ryoken. He’s open to any possibility, I think, so perhaps pan or maybe even demi for him as well? 

And finally, for something more datestorm-specific (although lbr, everything I said about them before applies to them as a couple haha), they’d just be a pair of fluff heads. Fluff heads that challenge each other and tease and have petty fights that don’t last long, but just a pair of fluff heads. That’s literally the best way I can describe these hacker nerd babies.