Posts tagged sigh
Posts tagged sigh
It’s hard enough to live in a land where you don’t belong, but knowing it—holding conflicting realities in your head—will drive you mad
rip pants shout out to all my thick thighed ladies out there you know what’s up
This is how almost all of my jeans have died. :c I don’t have the labia to wear them as booty shorts.
(Yes, I used “labia” instead of “balls” to signify female courage. What up.)
BOTH OF MY JEANS HAVE THIS PROBLEM RIGHT NOW AND I REFUSE TO DEAL WITH IT
O FRABJOUS DAY CALLOOH CALLAY
Birthday request for Antiquitea! Hope you like it :D
#kind of ooc but dang
Bucky has been back for a week. Natasha had been the one to finally bring him in, after jarring some memories loose with a kick to his forehead. She claims that it was “cognitive recalibration” and Clint had winced with sympathy the first time he had heard her refer to it as such. Personally, Bucky thinks she just got annoyed with the whole shebang and tried to knock him out so she could bring him back in handcuffs, but he knows better than to mention that.
The first 24 hours had been hell, with a overwhelming influx of memories and information. He spent most of the time in an incoherent daze, and when he really woke up for the first time, Steve had been asleep in the chair next to his bed. He had stared at him in incomprehension for a moment, before inhaling and being reminded that hey, he had been in a down and dirty fight with the Black Widow not to long ago and she had busted up at least two of his ribs.
He groaned, and Steve was immediately awake. He was a mess, looked like he hadn’t showered or shaved recently, and he seemed as at-a-loss for words as Bucky.
“You’re awake.” he said quietly, and his voice was hoarse, which, fuck, now that Bucky was looking for it, his eyes were red-rimmed and he looked like he might start crying at any second, christ. “How much do you remember?” he continued after a moment of painfully awkward silence, oblivious to Bucky’s thought-process and looking closer and closer to crying every second.
“Enough.” Bucky croaked, and wow, he must have been shouting or something while he was asleep because there was no way that the punch Tasha landed on his windpipe would still have that much effect. Almost immediately, Steve had scrambled for the class of water on the bedside table, apologizing, blabbering on about how tired Bucky must be, how long he had been in custody for, what the doctors had said, all while holding the glass so Bucky could greedily slurp through the straw without disturbing the many wires attached to his arms.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll just go let the doctor know you’re awake.” he says, after Bucky is done drinking, and then awkwardly shuffles out of the room. Bucky feels like he should say something, but by the time he’s opened his mouth Steve is gone.
Not a minute later, a doctor walks in and starts asking him questions. Then he goes back to sleep for a few hours. the next time he wakes up, it’s because a nurse needs him awake for some progress tests, and there is nobody else in the room.
Over the course of the next week, Natasha visits several times. On her second visit, she drags Clint along, and watches in satisfaction as they bond over discussions of sniper-rifles and the best places to make perches. After that, at least one of them shows up every morning and every afternoon, and sometimes they both decide to grace him with their presence.
Two days after he had woken up, Tony Stark breezes into the room and starts poking at his arm. Tony is brash, and unapologetic, and sarcastic, and incredibly smart, and Bucky finds he liked him more than he ever had Howard. Howard had been smart, yes, but where Tony was brash Howard had been suave, and where Tony was unapologetic Howard had been arrogant, and where Tony was sarcastic, all dry wit and wry humor, Howard had been distant and unapproachable. So yeah, he likes Stark, and they trade quips back and forth while Tony designs him a better arm then he could ever dream of.
Bruce came in a few times, mostly to get samples to find out how exactly the unfinished serum that Zemo had injected him with effected him. He has a calm presence, one that Bucky finds strangely soothing, and when he fins out from Clint later that he’s also the Hulk, well. That just means they’re both freaks created in an attempt to recreate Steve.
Bucky meets Thor all of once, when the god came in and dumped 58 boxes of poptarts on the end of his bed and told him that he was ‘honored to meet such a mighty warrior’ and that he looked forward to getting to know another of ‘Midgard’s finest’. The meeting itself only lasted about 20 minutes before Clint wandered through and dragged him off for a meeting with Director Fury, but it left a lasting impression all the same.
Director Fury never came by, but a mild-manered and terrifyingly efficient man by the name of Agent Coulson was constantly bringing him paperwork and forms to fill out, as well as asking him questions.
Steve never came back. He was mentioned occasionally by the others who stopped by, but they seemed to try to avoid the topic as much as possible.
But now a week had passed since he had been brought in, and the doctor had just cleared him, though he still had to check in daily. Coulson had appeared as soon as the doctor left the room, bringing clothes a cell phone and Bucky’s dog tags with him.
“You are scarily efficient, you know that?” Bucky remarks as he carefully pulls the grey wife-beater over his head, favoring his still-sore left side. Fucking Natasha.
Coulson smiles thinly. “Captain Rogers is currently in his quarters on the fourth floor, room 457. I trust you will call me if you need anything else.”
“Scarily efficient.” Bucky mutters under his breath as the man turns to leave, and he could swear he saw the corner of the mans mouth twitch.
It takes no time at all to find the right room, because the door is open and Natasha is inside with Steve. She’s perched on the lone chair, while Steve is sitting on the bed with his head bowed and his hands clasped loosely in front of him. The silence is so thick he could cut it with a knife, and it’s quite obvious that something’s going on. So of course, being the cocky son-of-a-bitch he is, he barges right in like he owns the place.
“Hey, jerk.” he says, and Steve jumps a mile. Natasha has been watching him since he appeared in the doorway, and she smiles at that. It’s toothy and wide and fucking terrifying, the last time he saw her smile like that it was right before she slit a guys throat. But instead of pulling a knife or some other form of lethal weapon out of thin air, she merely stands and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her, so Bucky decides to just not think about it.
Steve is staring at him with wide eyes, and while he’s obviously showered and shaved and changed his clothes within the last 12 hours, he still looks like a wreck.
“So,” Bucky says, walking over and sitting in the chair Natasha had just vacated, “you want to explain to me why you didn’t come to visit me while I was being poked and prodded by the sadists they employ as doctors here?”
Steve blinks at him, looking even more wrecked, if that was at all possible. Bucky sighs, runs his flesh hand through his hair because the metal one tends to snag, and geez he wishes Stark would finish making him a better one. Preferably one with an inbuilt flamethrower or something.
“Look, is this about the whole brainwashed thing? Because I didn’t think so at first, what with you being there when I first woke up, but I would completely understand if-” he gives a slightly bitter laugh. “-if you think I’m a monster or some shit, I get that, but-“
“NO!” Steve yells suddenly, face flushing, and his glare is so sharp Bucky feels it cutting up things in his chest. “No, how could you even think I would think that?” Steve said, looking back at the floor. The tips of his ears are a dull pink, and Bucky focuses on that because that’s familiar, that’s something he knows, that’s something he can deal with.
“Well, what then, c’mon, don’t leave me hanging, at least let me know what i did wrong-“
You didn’t do anything wrong!” Steve exclaims, head jerking back so he could stare at Bucky again. “You were brainwashed and used for years, while I was frozen in a glacier somewhere, and NOT ONLY did I not help you before that, but I didn’t help you AFTER I WOKE UP, EITHER!” Steve is shouting by the time he finishes, standing by the bed with his hands balled into fists at his sides, breathing heavily and still staring at him.
It all slides into place, with an audible click, and suddenly the world around him makes sense in a way it hasn’t since before he fell. Steve wasn’t angry, the moron felt guilty.
“Wha- You- You think you should have helped me earlier? Are you fucking serious?!” He’s gaping at Steve, and he tries, but he can’t seem to stop himself. He bursts into laughter. “That… is the most patently ridiculous thing I have heard in a while.”
“Huh?” Steve says, looking less like he was awaiting judgement and more like a confused puppy. Bucky snorts.
“There was nothing you could have done, you’re only human you know, now get those delusions of grandeur out of your head and accept it.”
“No. If it wasn’t my fault I was brainwashed into being a commie assassin, it’s not your fault either. Deal?” he says, and hold out his hand. Steve stares at it for a moment before visibly relaxing. He reaches out and grabs Bucky’s hand, but instead of shaking it, he drags Bucky in, twining the fingers of his other hand through Bucky’s hair and resting his forehead against Bucky’s temple.
Bucky allows it for a minute, drinking in the contact, before pulling gently away and grinning up at Steve.
“Now, you gonna come help me light a fire under Stark’s ass or what? He promised me a new arm, and he’s taking too long in delivering.”
I…holy shit, Sam. I CONCEDE YOUR POINT, AND BOW TO YOUR CHARACTERIZATION. THAT WAS. YES. YES.