#Weird quote format I know. Not feeling it tonight. Tired

[violetganache42]

Highlights from tonight's movie night celebrating some of the different teams Donald has been a part of in categorized and chronological order (I honestly like this format. I might stick with it):

"Boat Builders":

Good news: The short has subtitles! Bad news: They're not in English, so you still can't understand what the fuck Donald is saying.

Donald: "Yeah, even a child can do it!" Godfrey: "Even Della could do it!"

justaboot: "god's third choice after the 3 stooges"

Max's mother has been found

"The First Adventure!":

Bradford Hate Club

Ludwig appearance!

puffywuffy8904: "he's serving whatever the opposite of cunt is" WriteBackAtYa: "So di—"

(I love this screenshot. 😂)

The reference to Della's letter

WriteBackAtYa and I being on the same wavelength

Eat the rich uncle (Sorry, Scrooge, but I had to. XD)

"You can't mute me, old man!"

RIP Donald's guitar

The Temple of Doom parallel!

PAPYRUS

"Treasure of the Golden Suns" easter egg!

"fragile old body"

POGO CANE

Black Heron doing the smug anime girl laugh (You know what I'm talking about.)

"I'm the chosen one!" Pure Deweycore

"So long, suckers!"

Just Black Heron in general (She's a fun villain. lol)

DONALD KILL

Us ranting about Bradford using the Papyrus of Binding to escape like the COWARD THAT HE IS! WHY WE OUGHTA— COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE—

If I had a nickel for every time Black Heron lost her robot arm, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

Me: "BEAKLEY YOU FOOL" Godfrey: "YOU FUCKING FOOOOOOOOL"

"The House of the Lucky Gander!":

Louie "I do hate hot dogs" Duck noticing the neon lights shaped like a hot dog

"We're all gonna die! I'VE WASTED MY LIFE!"

Launchpad deserves his own episode dedicating to his love life

Gladstone Hate Club

Scrooge looking at the camera like he's on The Office

puffywuffy8904: "gladstone you have a haircut shut up"

Huey autism moment

Just how bored and tired Dewey, Webby, and Scrooge were after seeing Aquarioon

Dewey and the jade tigers

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

27!

Webby's love for chocolate fountains

"And a distraction."

Scrooge: "I don't even get to be part of the blasted challenge?" Huey:

Real-Life-Pine-Tree: "Roasted duck anyone?" Me: "'Danny: I'll have the duck.'"

Louie's motivational speech

"Where did that come from?"

Us @ Liu Hai: RIP bozo (at least until DuckTales World Showcase Adventure)

The underwhelming Golden Cricket and how fucking bored and exhausted the family was

"Mt. Fuji Whiz":

LotTC basically being DuckTales on crack

Me: "Hell is a city. Where have I seen that before? 🤔" Godfrey: "Hazbin Hote—[gunshot]"

My idea of Clinton and Webby bonding over Clan McDuck history

Missy thirsting for Panchito

The return of the Ari the Autism Bird!

Xandra and the nieces in general (They're some of the best characters in the show. ^^)

*The Three Caballeros are stuck in the Underworld* AMJ: "We have a very simple solution." DT17!Huey: "This doesn't feel simple."

Jack Skellington moon

Donald saying the Karen phrase

Xandra and Charon clothes swap

Panchito being "that" guy

The Sheldgoose family tree taking notes from Goofy's family tree regarding the relatives' designs

IN THE PLUMS!

Clinton hugging Donald 💖

Tokyo? LIKE IN DUCKTALES!

"Potatoland":

Dreamy: "SEE HE HAS 27 FINGERS" Me: "27!"

POTATOLAND! POTATOLAND!

"Mickey, I am fed up with your bullshit devil magic."

Praising Mickey's characterization in the Paul Rudish shorts

Donald's blush

No more Idaho

Just the whole short in general. It's the best. XD

"Mickey, Donald, Goofy: The Three Musketeers":

Black Arts Beagle's Musketeer cousins

puffywuffy8904: "they wanna be Scrooge soooo bad"

Donald being, and I quote Jamie, "a punk bitch" in this movie

The return of Pete Hate Club

"Whoa, he's bisexual, I didn't know that!"/"By the way, I'm bisexual! I forgot, I- forgot to announce it! How do you turn this shit off- wait-"

The entire opera gag

Clarabelle appearance!

Dreamy pointing out the parallels how Pete is to Minnie what Bradford is to Scrooge

In the Hall of the Mountain King

"Why did the music stop?"

"Together, we'll save the princess or die trying!"/"…Die? …Die?"

melcat33: "Minnie discovers she's into bdsm"

WriteBackAtYa and I quoting Philip CD-i Legend of Zelda

The turtle trying to be the rooster from Robin Hood at one point

"That little diddy's starting to grow on me."

Pete referencing The Lion King

Donald FINALLY unleashing his iconic temper

melcat33: "Goofy finally being Dad Material" WriteBackAtYa: "But he was daddy material"

(Look what you made me do! /lh)

Pirates of Penzance

"Not long… maybe… 40 years?"

The movie ending with the fucking Can-Can

Learning about how Tokyo Disneyland had Mickey, Donald, and Goofy as the Three Musketeers and they all looked AMAZING (Why does Japan get all the cool shit?!)

#my post #duckblr movie night #dt cafeteria table #duckblr #boat builders #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #ducktales reboot #ducktales season 1 #the house of the lucky gander! #ducktales season 3 #the first adventure! #legend of the three caballeros #mt. fuji whiz #mickey donald goofy: the three musketeers #Youtube

[nutnoce]

“Geryon sat on his bed in the hotel room pondering the cracks and fissures of his inner life. It may happen that the exit of the volcanic vent is blocked by a plug of rock, forcing molten matter sideways along latter all fissures called fire lips by volcanologists. Yet Geryon didn’t want to become one of those people who think of nothing but their stores of pain. He bent over the book on his knees. Philosophic Problems ’… I will never know how you see red and you will never know how I see it. But this separation of consciousness is recognized only after a failure of communication, and our first movement is to believe in an undivided being between us…’” 

Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red, XXXII. Kiss

#Weird quote format I know. Not feeling it tonight. Tired #anne carson #autobiography of red #geryon #artists on tumblr #Illustration #traditional art #procreate #for the coloring you know #red #art of mine

[forestwater87]

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to [email protected]. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

#campcamp #camp camp #cc david #roosterteeth #rooster teeth #miles luna #this isn't content #it's more like a public service #also i threw the gwenvid in like the trash goblin I am

[quarantined-with-bucky]

I Was Good To You

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~ 4,000 (lol sorry)

Summary: You were good to Bucky

Warnings: Angst

A/N: I really love the song “you were good to me” by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler (actually they have a lot of good songs, together and separately). But I felt like this song needs to be read from the opposite perspective literally every time I hear it, hence this fic. It’s a little different than what I have written so far, so I hope you still enjoy it! I put some of the original lyrics in the fic as quote-block format; it’s mostly in the reader’s POV and I’m sorry in advance for having to do Bucky like this – it just fits the song.

...

It was a fairly new relationship. And while you and he were both equally cautious about taking said new relationship too fast, it couldn’t be helped that the two of you were inseparable. From the day you met, he had been invested in you – your life. He claims it was because he was frozen for so long; because he didn’t know how to live “normally” in the twenty-first century. He went from World War II to Hydra to today. While that made perfect sense to you, a part of you always wondered if it was something more. Sure, Bucky had never had the chance to (and likely will never the chance to) live mundanely. He won’t ever work a 9 to 5 job, he won’t spend nights cooking and washing dishes, he won’t be doing lawn maintenance, working on a dingey car, or grocery shopping (and then forgetting your grocery list at home). You thought that he may have attached himself so quickly to you so he could partly experience the normalcy of civilian life. Not that you were complaining.

He often spent nights at your house, sleeping in your too-small bed, sitting on your countertop, and lounging on your loveseat. Waking up next to him was heaven. If you weren’t securely wrapped in his arms, head laying on his bulky torso, then he was using your chest as a pillow, the weight of him almost making it impossible to breathe. But that extra weight was calming; he may have even been the weighted blanket that has been sitting in your Amazon cart for well over four months. You’d wake up from an uninterrupted night of bliss, fingers running through his long hair, Bucky refusing to get up until you promised pancakes.

But then, three months into it, he left. Its not like he had a choice, you reminded yourself, its his job. And you were well aware of it – he made you aware of it. He told you he would be gone for three weeks. And that’s fine; you could spare less than a month of your life for the good of the rest of the world? It felt almost selfish to think that way. He wasn’t yours; he had to save the world, he belonged to the world – to himself.

So, you tried to keep yourself busy to distract yourself. But there really wasn’t much to do; hobbies you once enjoyed felt exhaustive and boring. The issue is you used to do everything with him: eat, work, eat, shower, sleep. Now it’s eat alone, work alone, eat alone, shower alone, sleep alone; each task a glaring reminder how desolate it was.

Floating, but I feel like I’m dying

Your routine felt like nothing – it just felt empty, the way that it lacked conversation, playfulness, fun, it lacked him. Nothing, in fact, felt real. You walked around the neighborhood and it felt like a fever dream, like you were gliding along the sidewalks. Not a single thought roamed through your mind, just the absence of what used to be. The days always went by painstakingly slow, but every Friday night you wondered how the week had gone by so quickly.

Your friends invited you out on the weekend, and while you mostly said no, they made sure to drag you out a couple times. The company was honestly welcome, it just felt like an empty effort to get dressed up and go to the bar when you really would rather be there (or home – in bed) with someone else. But by the time your friends got you in a routine to go out, Bucky came back home to you.

Months went by while the two of you were attached at the hip, smiles never leaving either of your mouths.

You woke up one morning to a heavy figure sprawled across half of your naked body. Yawning and trying your best to inhale a breath with his chest laying directly on top of yours, you flexed your arms and legs straight out, cracking a few joints that had been overused just a few hours ago. Bucky’s eyes popped open, his blue iris’s peering into your own. He rubbed an eye-booger away with the palm of his hand and started off the morning with “I have to leave tonight.”

You were confused and you knew he could read it on your face. “No good morning?” You joked haphazardly, trying your best not to blurt out every thought racing across your mind at that moment – the main one being what the fuck?

“’M sorry, baby,” he mumbled, still half asleep, pushing his face into the corner of your neck, planting a wet kiss to your shoulder, then your collarbone, then your jaw.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” Your fingers traced up and down his back, nicking on the scratches you left last night; nearly healed but you knew they were there.

He hummed and lifted his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Couple weeks.” Another kiss. “I’m not sure.” That being said, you didn’t bring it up again. It was better to spend the day binging pancakes and watching movies in bed than discussing it any further.

I know it’s easier to run

After everything I’ve done

It was finally time for him to leave. After all your distraction kisses didn’t work. As soon as the clock hit 8:00 pm, he stood, despite you feigning sleep beside him. He leaned over you on the bed and held a head to your cheek, then pushed the hair from your face. You opened your eyes, holding his hand in yours. He stood there for a moment that felt like an eternity, just watching each other with sad eyes. “I wish I could stay,” he murmured.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. As he straightened back up, you stood next to him, pulling a shirt on and following him to the door. After opening the door, he cupped your face with both his hands and pulled you close to him. “See you soon, okay, doll?” If this was his best reassurance tactic, it wasn’t very good. You met his mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, tongues swiping over each other, exchanging the words you couldn’t find earlier. Slowly, he kissed you back, releasing a long breath as he pulled away.

And then you did it.

“I love you.”

And then you regretted it.

He stared back at you, eyes scanning over the whole of your face: faltering smile, eyebrows drawn together, eyes suddenly glazed with worry.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He turned and shut the door without looking back or saying another word. He really left. He really ran away.

Tears welled up into your eyes. Like that morning, the only thought you could process: what the fuck? albeit, this time, it was a little angrier than before. What did that mean? You immediately assumed he was done with you. But the more you laid on your bed, sobbing your eyes out into your pillow, the more that didn’t make sense. There’s no way he wanted to breakup with you – he was so happy before he left. Maybe he just didn’t love you? Maybe he loved you but he just wasn’t ready to say it? And honestly, knowing Bucky, it was most likely the last option. He enjoyed spending every waking moment with you doing the most absolute boring tasks; you don’t just suffer like that if you don’t love that person.

Then again, despite agreeing to take this relationship slow, he surely did not have a problem basically moving into your house and sleeping with you (which you would’ve assumed to be a much greater step than saying “I love you,” considering he was from 1917 where usually the order is reversed).

All that worrying seemed to be in vain. He returned to you no later than 13 days after.

You pulled open to your front door only to find a sheepish-looking Bucky on the other side. His hands were tucked into his pockets, shoulders shrugged unusually high as he stared directly at the ground. But as soon as that door swung open and he saw you standing bewildered on the other side, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off the ground against his chest. He hummed softly into your collarbone, “I missed you.”

And suddenly your heart began beating out of your chest. You hands found his hair and you gently untangled the knots, while you shut your eyes and breathed in his earthy scent. So, you’d been right: Bucky was just weird. You didn’t want to relive that scene from two weeks ago, instead opting to relax in his arms. “I missed you, too.”

Growing, but I’m just growing tired

Now I’m worried for my soul

And I’m still scared of growing old

As time went on, him leaving became more frequent. You couldn’t help the fact that they were getting a lot of new leads. Honestly, you couldn’t be more grateful to have Bucky. Not only is he the light of your life, but invariantly the same for everyone else in the world. His job was to protect people and you couldn’t imagine the world if he wasn’t off doing what he did so well. But they became more frequent and longer. Lately, it had felt like the two of you had spent more time apart than together.

Laying on the couch, his cheek resting atop of your chest, his torso and hips nestled between your legs, you broke the calm silence. “So next Friday’s my birthday,” you mumbled.

He chuckles in response, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Is this your way of reminding me to get you a gift? Because don’t worry, doll, I already got you something.” He winked and set his cheek back to his original position, softly shutting his eyes as you curled a lock of his hair around your finger.

“No,” you giggle back, rolling your eyes to yourself. “I want to take a trip. I think we should get away for the weekend.” You released the strand of hair, instead running your hand over the back of his neck. “What do you think?”

He sits up immediately, no disregard for your hands, and shakes his head. “(Y/N), you know that I can’t. What if they need me and I’m not here?”

You bite your lip, quickly searching for something to say. And what you blurt out actually happens to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. “Aren’t there like a million Avengers? I think you can take one weekend off.”

Now he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “(Y/N), you can’t be serious. You know it doesn’t work like that.” And at this point, you’re not sure if he’s talking about the Avengers not working like that or if your relationship doesn’t work like that – after all, he still never said “I love you” back. Not when he came home that time, not when he left for the next mission, not for your one-year anniversary, and not after the fact he realized that date occurred while he was away on work.

“I know, but – ”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, his tone harsh. “But no.” The way his jaw sets and eyes narrow at you doesn’t make you think he’s very sorry.

Staring back at him, you nod, getting up from the couch before he can see the tears well up in your eyes (for the record, he saw them). “I’m tired, Buck. Goodnight.” And with that, you scurried off to your bedroom. You locked the door and fell onto the bed, silently letting the tears fall down your cheeks. You buried your face into your pillow, throwing his against the wall, the smell of your bed – that smelled like him – pissing you off beyond belief.

Was this going to be your life? Constantly leaving, never saying “I love you” when everything he does clearly shows that he’s in love with you. There as a point in your life when you thought men were confusing. But, damn, James Barnes is a whole new story.

He clearly got the message that he’d be sleeping on the couch that night. He didn’t disturb you for the rest of the night – he didn’t even try. Could he hear you sobbing in your room? You could only assume yes. But that clearly didn’t make a difference to him.

But that’s okay. You’ve learned how to console yourself, how to calm yourself down during a panic attack, how to make the tears stop on your own.

That would become your reality. Would that be your future? Bucky talked about the future – quite a lot, actually, especially for being the one who won’t say “I love you.” He wanted to settle down, he wanted the future that was taken away from him years ago: to eventually settle down, raise little babies, grow old with you. He surely liked to talk about it, but never show it. There had to be some way he could ask Steve to take a weekend off. If he was reluctant to do it now, would he ever? Or would you just live in the shadows of his life, tying down the house alone, raising babies alone, growing old alone.

The next morning, you woke up to Bucky next to you in bed. He stroked your hair until you opened your eyes (that you could only assumed were swollen and red). He had apologized for the night before, pleaded for you to understand, and even gave you your birthday gift early. While you decided to forgive him, for the sake of the universe, you still couldn’t bury the hatchet completely. You weren’t going to show it, but what you were thinking about was important, and dammit you were justified in asking yourself those questions. (Even more justified to ask him those questions, but it was just never the right time).

And I’m so used to letting go

But I don’t want to be alone

One day, months later, your grandfather had passed away. It came as quite a shock, and it took you a few hours to even process the fact that he was gone. You’d been through countless calls with other family members and friends checking in on you. And while everyone meant well, every call resulted with you in a rush to hang-up, falling into a fit of sobs as you ended each call.

He had basically raised you since you were born and the fact that he had been ripped away from you so suddenly had burned you even more. Despite how sad you were, however, you had to be glad that you were able to fall apart in Bucky’s arms. Holding you tightly, reassuring you yet never telling you you’re overreacting. As someone who had been around loss his whole life, he definitely understood and thought it best to let you express your feelings earnestly.

That’s why, when Steve Rogers called his phone later that night, you couldn’t help but express your feelings very earnestly.

“Bucky, no, you’re not going.” You were sitting up in bed, in the middle of the night, darkness swallowing the room as Bucky stood to dress, not even bothering to turn on the lamp beside him.

“(Y/N), I have to. Please, don’t make this hard, baby.” His hand reached out to touch your cheek if only for a moment before he continued to dress and gather his things.

Tears fell down your cheeks freely, your voice coming out cracked as you begged him once more. It might have been pitiful, from his eyes, you’d assume. You were only one step away from looking like a sobbing toddler making grabby hands at her favorite toy. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me alone right now.” A sob rips through your throat and you nearly scream. “I’m always alone. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

You’d done the research: there were at least 12 Avengers nowadays. You didn’t know who was in what galaxy, but you were positive that one of them could take his place. Its not like he even really had superpowers. He was basically an enhanced man – plus they already had one of those? Surely, he could be spared this time around.

He shakes his head but sits down to pull you in his arms. “Baby, please. You can’t do this to me.”

And it takes everything in your whole being to not scoff. Do this to him? What exactly are you doing to him? Oh, just something he does to you on the weekly basis. You swallow your tears and shove him away. You don’t know what made you pull a complete 180, but it did finally feel good to get some things off your chest that had been plaguing your mind recently. “You always leave. I’m used to it.”

He opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. He watches you pull the covers over yourself and turn away from him. He closes his mouth and leaves the room.

God only knows where our fears go

Hearts I’ve broke, now my tears flow

You’ll see that I’m sorry

Cause you were good to me

It was the post-mission jitters. The remnants of the adrenaline from earlier that day still coursed through his veins as he paced back and forth around the jet, eagerly anticipating his return to you.

“What’s up yours?” Sam asks, eyes narrowed at Bucky, clearly in confusion but also in annoyance.

Bucky stops in his tracks, eyes wide, feeling as though he had been invisible for the whole plane ride. He shrugs, and as Sam raises an eyebrow, he offers an explanation: “I’ve gotta see (Y/N).”

A grin breaks out on Sam’s face. He falls back in his chair, throws a hand over his heart and pretends to faint. “Oh, you have to see your lover. I’m Bucky, I’m so in love,” he mimics in a high-pitched voice.

Where Bucky normally would threaten to beat Sam to within an inch of his life, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He stood, staring at Sam’s hideous imitation of himself – he swears his heart stopped beating. “Yes, exactly.”

Sam chokes and stutters a “what?” before Steve interrupts them from the cockpit.

“We’re landing, guys. Buck, grab a seat.” So, Bucky does exactly what he’s told, plopping himself into the seat across from Sam, ignoring all the questions and comments from the man across from him.

God, he mentally kicks himself. It’s been almost two years. Two years you let him treat you like that. Now, while Bucky doesn’t think he’s done anything outwardly wrong and had obviously never purposely tried to hurt you, maybe he could’ve been a little better regarding work. Maybe he could’ve taken that weekend off with you.

You really consumed his whole life. His thoughts were constantly about you (mostly sweet and innocent, sometimes dirty), he constantly wanted to be by you, talking, laughing, touching.

He made up his mind before the plane even lands. The last mission is over, and new – personal – one begins.

He leaves the complex, stopping by the florist to buy the biggest bouquet of roses he can get his hands on. A grin is itching at his mouth as he anticipates your reaction during the rest of his drive. His heart is racing – in a good way. In a way he hasn’t felt in, well, forever. His confidence is at an all-time high as he’s never felt surer of himself in his life.

He’s already planned it out. You’ll open the door and he’ll scoop you up in his arms, hand you the flowers, and finally say “I love you.” He doesn’t know what took him so long anyway.

And now I’m closing every door

Cause I’m sick of wanting more

You know he didn’t get to decide when he left and for how long he’d be gone.

But he did get to decide his priorities. And honestly, you weren’t even sure if you were one of them anymore.

You were torn because you know how much his work means to him. Not only was it his calling, but it was something he thought was important to use his good work as a means to make up for all the bad things he’s done in the past. And while you’ve told him multiple times that that’s definitely not how it works, nothing will change his logic. So, you’ve stood by him; if it was important to him, it was important to you. Of course, you wanted to see your boyfriend exceed, feel fulfilled.

Now, you were just tired of seeing Bucky like that when it cost you everything. He was your everything. You had a job, yes, a home, a family. But the one person you were supposed to be with – actually be with – didn’t value you the same as his job. And thinking that to yourself just has to be the worst, most necessary wake-up call you need.

That was all you needed. You sat at your desk with a pen and a piece of paper. You couldn’t even think of an opening line for about two hours. Sitting there, chewing the inside of your cheek, you wrote countless paragraphs, scrapping some, keeping others, adjusting sentences, trying not to sound too mean – then having to start over because your teardrops fell onto the paper and smudged the ink.

All in all, it took you two days to write him the note – note turned letter. You folded it in three, left it on his pillow. As you placed it down, you broke out in tears. Falling to your knees, you shoved your face into the mattress, wailing into the sheets one last time. It remarkably still smelled of Bucky’s soap; probably just god handing you one more gut-wrenching blow.

You’d spent the night on the couch, unable to bear the sight of that letter or the smell of those blankets. The next morning, you tried to keep your head as clear as possible. No breakfast (no more pancakes with Bucky), no music (no reminders of your song), no phone (no messages from Bucky). It was time to leave. Time to leave this house, this life, this relationship. You’d quickly shoved a few bags full of clothes and necessities and threw them in the back of your car, not looking back. Just like he did after you’d told him you loved him.

Swear I’m different than before

I won’t hurt you anymore

Cause you were good to me

He practically skips up the steps. Knocking first, he rocks up and down on his tip-toes unable to contain his excitement anymore. Not getting an immediate response, he knocks again.

It would make sense that you weren’t home if it was work hours, but it was 7:00 pm. Bucky was thrown-off; you’d be at home eating dinner right now. Chalking it off to maybe you were in the bathtub, he digs around in his pocket for the key. Pushing the door open, he cautiously looks around the kitchen, then the dining room and living room, unable to find you. The bathroom was empty, and you hadn’t responded to him calling your name, echoing throughout the house.

He pulled out his phone while carefully kicking the bedroom door open with his foot. Straight to voicemail. Voicemailbox full. He tosses the roses beside him on the bed and sits on the edge, nearly ready to go searching again before a piece of paper catches his eye.

His heart drops.

It sinks.

There’s not a time in his whole one-hundred-year existence that he’d felt this much anticipation and fear.

He grabs the letter with shaking hands, carefully unfolding it and his eyes are fixated on the date you’d scribbled at the top of the page. Two months ago.

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