#he's literally the entire reason there's plot

[hestzhyen]

On How Samura's Disability was Handled

I think there's good points to be made about how Samura overcame his disability and that it's pretty lame. It's something that's pretty common in fiction- when you make someone's injury/disability a metaphor for a character flaw, healing it to show they've overcome their issues inside and out gives you a sour feeling. Physical disabilities aren't something for someone to magic away! Nor are they indicative of someone being "broken" in the first place!

There's an example of this happening that turned me off from an entire book series I used to love. The Young Wizards series was generally excellent for me growing up, tackling heavy subjects like losing a parent to cancer and how to deal with younger siblings that are more talented than you, facing your own impending decline and how to manage it. It even has a gay-coded mentor couple that helps out the protagonists! And a Hispanic girl as a main character without relying on tired stereotypes! A guy and a girl working together as best friends instead of becoming a romantic duo! From as far back as the first book, which was published in 1982! It's a really really good series that I'm glad I read.

Until it came to the sixth book, A Wizard Alone.

The main character of this book is Darryl McAllister, who is autistic. So seriously autistic that he's in special education since he's non-verbal and prone to strong emotional outbursts. But I'll let the description speak for itself (with spoilers if you're interested in reading the series):

Hmm.

The universe-specific plot details aside, doesn't it feel kind of icky that someone can start to exhibit autistic behaviour themselves if they're with an autistic person too much? I know (or at least presume in good faith) that that wasn't the author's intent when she wrote this, but it doesn't exactly sit well. Especially since the book ends with Darryl quite literally leaving a trap for the Big Bad with his "autistic self" in a different universe and becoming a "normal" person in the narrative relevant one via being able to exist in more than one place at a time. Hooray...?

I would absolutely love to leave my disorders and body dysphoria behind and be "normal". I used to dream about it so hard I'd cry to myself all night. But life demands that I work through them all and find out what "normal" is to me, as frustrating and painful and goddamn awful it can be.

So yeah. Even when done with positive intentions, it can still feel really uncomfortable to see disabilities being treated like burdens and flaws that can be fixed or left behind somehow. As if anyone can be cured of anything short of death with enough gumption and the right kind of help. It... doesn't work like that. At all. Disabled people are perfectly capable of being whole with or without a permanent solution to their problems.

So with Samura's eyes being healed, I get it. He was blind and now that he's overcome the trauma holding him back, he's sighted again. Feels bad if we are looking for positive disability rep without the usual magical handwaving away to show someone becoming "whole". Does that mean I can never be whole in this author's eyes? Are all of us disabled people doomed to suffer feeling pain and lack of fulfillment all our lives since we can't be cured inside and out?

In this case, I don't think Hokazono meant it that way- and he deliberately went out of his way to say so.

Chapter 51

The key difference here is that Samura wasn't born blind and he didn't end up that way due to an accident or circumstances beyond his control. He blinded himself out of sheer guilt and anxiety. He chose his disability and only undid that when it was time for him to let go of the reasoning that led him to do it in the first place; gave him self a grave injury and handicapped himself to reflect what was going on in his head and heart. That's leaning extremely heavy on the metaphor instead of making wider commentary, I think. There's a bit more thought put into this situation than the one with Darryl in A Wizard Alone at least.

There's also other characters to consider. Chihiro's got a nasty scar on his face that he chooses not to heal (because he's also not letting go of the emotions/trauma it represents). If Hakuri has a ton of scars under his clothes, we know damn well why. Even Hiruhiko's flubbed backstory was treated with a modicum of care not usually given to other characters in his circusmtances- in a way, it's empowering for him instead of a full-on detriment to his character. Hokazono's not using visual injury and disability metaphors without thought here. He doesn't get it right all the time, but he's not doing it will ill intent either.

So that's why I'm not as critical of this trope being invoked with Samura as I could be- and would be under different circumstances. I don't know how to end things so... take care of yourself, inside and out.

[yinyuedijun]

hello mao just wanted to ask why is reader cheating on phainon with evil phainon?? is the flame reaver D laced with a little something that makes it impossible not to bounce on for 20 million cycles??

I'm in fucking tears anon AFHLDHHFBSKGHSLFHSKSAH

first of all: yes his dick game is crazy . you know that stereotype about how crazy girls have bomb pussy game? that applies to the flame reaver too

second of all: spoilers for literally the entire fic plot below lol

basically khaslana is fixated on you since he was in love with you in eternal recurrence 0 (and phainon has since always fallen in love with you in every cycle). as a result, khaslana stalks you finds you in every cycle to keep you safe and out of harm's way, for as long as possible until you absolutely need to die.

eventually he kidnaps you (FOR GOOD REASONS I PROMISE) and while you're in captivity with him, you start suspecting that he has some kind of connection to phainon because of a bunch of tells. eventually you take off his mask and see that it's phainon - though very obviously not your phainon. he explains everything to you, and you have conflicted feelings for about 2-3 days before deciding you can forgive your fiancé for killing you and also himself thirty million times. then you come onto him and the two of you proceed to have insane marathon sex, which already always happens with vanilla phainon but depressed phainon takes it to a whole new level (it's the only time he ever gets any dopamine nowadays 💀💀💀)

[thedrowsydoormouse]

He literally used a trans girl as a fucking prop like the god damned robot in the corner. The only reason why Rose was in that episode was to show Conrad's bigotry and then she basically disappeared from the plot for the entire rest of the episode. I don't even remember if she had any lines.

SACK RTD

[spliqi]

higuchi thoughts of the day: as much as i love the idea of her having some devastatingly destructive ability… her having a healing/support ability would explain so much of her character. like. her high ranking in the mafia despite (as far as we know) not being extraordinarily strong. her assignment to akutagawa + his resentment of her + her being so overprotective of him. the irl author’s connection to mori and yosano. dw about it

[damthosefandoms]

also if anyone is wondering why so many of us have gone insane over tex and also the dally-mark-tex brothers au go read this fic by @your-unfriendlyghost and you’ll get it

[pizzagame4000]

we all know human vigilante… but what about… slightly human vigilante

[soratonin]

isagi x sora x barou love triangle ............... much 2 consider

[lord-squiggletits]

"Rodimus is a better Prime because it didn't hurt for him to bond with the Matrix while for Optimus it did" headcanon/theory my beloathed.

One day I'm literally gonna snap and make a whole post addressing why what's wrong bc I'm tired of the inaccuracy and tired of ppl not understanding the Point TM of IDW and its version of the Matrix/Primacy and even more tired of people putting down Optimus in favor of Rodimus by essentially arguing that being unworthy means you deserve to be punished/put in pain bc you just weren't good enough to hold the Symbol of Ultimate Authority

[ominous-faechild]

✦ OC Questionnaire Tag 3 ✦

Thanks for the tag, @illarian-rambling!

Characters from Sun and Shadow: Freya, Crow, and Valyarus Characters from the Arcane Rifts: Gene, Tazin, and Mislav Featuring tAR's children at ages 15, 17, and 17! (Aka mid book 2.)

Questions: - Do you have a tell when you're lying? - What other media genre would you do the worst in? - Are you confident in yourself? from @the-letterbox-archives

Do you have a tell when you're lying?

Freya: Um... not that I know of? I'm not really in the habit of lying? (*remembers that she does, in fact, lie a lot... but mostly through omission of the truth!*) Haha... yeah! ... ugh, okay, um. If I had to guess... (*shifts uncomfortably in place*) it would probably be that I struggle in what to say? Though I kinda do that anyway? Ugh, I don't really know. (A/N: the easiest sign to tell that she's "lying" is that she avoids the subject completely. She'll change the subject or "get distracted". She also fidgets more, but that's something she does a lot anyways because she's awkward.)

Crow: Of course not! I don't lie anyway, so how would I find out? 😉🥰 (psst... Crow...) What? (You're supposed to basically be under truth serum for these Questionnaire posts...) Okay. And? 😘 (So you're telling me that you, a detective, have never told a lie once?) ... (See the issue there?) Nope! 😄 (A/N: WHELP! Uncooperative Crow understandably won't tell you, so I will. They're a very good liar, so it's hard to tell when they do. The best indicator is that they'll stumble slightly in their speech when almost saying something "they shouldn't" or they'll hesitate while trying to come up with a lie. The falters are always subtle though.)

Valyarus: (*snorts*) I would think not. Besides, I'm not in the habit of lying. There's too much magic that can force you into Truth-telling to be able to rely on it--no, best is operating in half-truths and implication. The best method of deception is allowing the one you wish to deceive to come up with the answers for themself. For example... (*slowly smirks, quirking an eyebrow*) I never said I don't lie just now... did I? (A/N: ahhh, our beloved douchebag faerie living up to his species's reputation. In other words: he's a fantastic "liar".)

Gene: I... don't know. I'd... like to think not. Maybe... maybe that I... (*takes a slow, deep breath, collecting himself*) ... I probably act more confident when I lie. I... I'm not confident. And probably don't... stutter as much. Or hesitate... So, speaking patterns? They--they change, I mean. My speaking patterns. When I lie.

Tazin: (*snarls*) I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, you got me? I--I-- (*struggling to lie because of the whole "these questions are answered under basically-truth serum" thing*) FINE! I don't fucking lie because I can't, okay? I avoid the subject! Or I just--I don't know, I just fucking lie??? How am I supposed to fucking know if I have a "tell"??? Don't you think I'd fucking fix it if I knew??? (A/N: he gets avoidant of the subject and/or highly aggressive to dissuade the asker from continuing at the moment... or generally asking again.)

Mislav: Um... this is a weird question?... I guess I don't really--(*remembers he lies literally all the time*)--lie... (*lets out a slow, pained sigh, running his hands back through his hair in frustration*) I don't know? I just--try my best to bullshit it? Try to make people feel better, or avoid giving them the information they want? I don't know??? (A/N: best indication is that he answers too quickly. He usually practices/rehearses his lies before it comes time to actually tell them. Otherwise (if he didn't expect to have to lie/doesn't have one prepared), he freezes up, stutters, and smiles/jokes too much as he tries "appeasing" or distracting the questioner.)

What other media genre would you do the worst in?

(we're going to be implanting Forbidden Knowledge of our Real World genres and whatnot for them to be able to best answer this!)

Freya: The horror genre. (*shudders*) I cannot deal with scary stuff, okay? I think I would be the first to die. I'd scream, or cry, and break down--probably try hitting the monster or whatever over the head with a chair when it turns the corner and, well... that never goes well in those sorts of things, does it?

Crow: Fairy tales. I'd either be the "lesson"--"don't do this or look what happens to you! You'll become Crow!"--or I'd be whatever the horrifying monster or villain is. I mean... (*laughs awkwardly, looking away and rubbing their shoulder feathers*) when you're me... you get used to knowing you're what's wrong with the world. (*beat. They realize what they've just said--*) I mean, romance. I'd probably annoy my love interest to death. 😎

Valyarus: (*fake gags, then with disgust:*) Romance. My only "biological" child was through magic, and I would not step foot near anyone with that sort of intention. I don't understand how others do. Much less why my daughter is so interested in Freya. They just met! (note: he's aroace and is equally disgusted with romance and sex. Also, yes, I know that's not how all aroace people are. I have plenty of other characters everywhere else in the spectrum. This is just where Valyarus is.)

Gene: Um... probably romance. I...'m not interested in it... not really. Be-besides with Mislav, I mean... and I... I don't even know why he likes me? 😅😓 ... people think I'm creepy. They don't say it--not to my face--but I know they think it. And I... I struggle to talk with people a lot. I try to say one thing, but they think I mean another?... I don't understand why. It's hard. And I--... I don't think I'd do well in that kind of story.

Tazin: The kinda thing where I'd have to teach. I don't have that kind of fucking patience, are you fucking kidding me? I think I'd explode on them. Maybe even literally. (*He pauses, considering it... and grins darkly*) Actually, wait--I take it back. I want to try. (I want to tag in and say traditional horror/thriller. I think the degree to which he'd freak out or curse out the monster would be comical and/or break the immersion, haha.)

Mislav: I would not be able to participate in a talk show or be in the news. A talk show? (*scoff*) Regardless of the subject, it wouldn't take long for me to be driven mad by their endless talking and pretending they know everything. The news? Even worse. I think I'd snap their mic in half. And only because I'd be struggling not to snap other things. <.< (read: necks, limbs, etc.)

Are you confident in yourself?

Freya: Ha... no, not really. I act like I am, but... y'know, it's just that--an act.

Crow: What's not to be confident about? I'm the greatest, I've never made a mistake in my life, and every decision I make is the best one I possibly can! 😘

Valyarus: (*poised on a grand chair; sipping tea elegantly with one hand while the other hangs over the side of the armrest. A nail file magically hangs in the air and is filing his nails while he sips tea*) Hm? What did you say? Oh. (*chuckles*) Of course I'm confident in myself. My abilities, my character, my decisions--everything. 😉💅

Gene: Depends what you mean by "myself"... (*goes quiet, looks away, and debates*) ... I... I try my best to make the right decisions. The best ones... that I possibly can. I--as hard as it is to not question them, it's--it's not good to worry about past decisions. I do my best, and that's--that's all I can do. So... (*takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts*) I'm not confident, but I try to be.

Tazin: (*snarls*) Of course I'm confident. I've gotten this far, haven't I? (*and slowly starting to smirk instead--*) I mean, look at me. (*leans back and gestures at himself with both hands*) I used to live on the streets with Gene. Now I have a girlfriend. People used to be terrified at my name--and they still would be if I didn't have to stop with the whole "Svarog" thing. (*oops, snarls again and leans in close; threateningly*) Look, I don't care what anyone else says, but Gene wasn't the only reason we were successful! He wouldn't have gotten anywhere without my strength, got it!?!? (Is actually less confident than he thinks he is--overcompensates for that by having convinced himself that he's the greatest. Hm... wonder if that fits the diagnosis criteria for anything?)

Mislav: Ha... not at all. (*swallows and looks down at his hands, fighting back tears*) I... one of these days, this curse is going to take over me. Will I even know when it does? Or will it be slow enough that I never even recognize that I've changed? I... (*looks back up at asker*) I worry, one of these days, I'll only know it when I've done something I can't come back from...

Your questions: - Same as the ones I answered!

Tagging (with no pressure) @yourpenpaldee @honeybewrites @fantasy-things-and-such @wyked-ao3 @the-golden-comet

@paeliae-occasionally @ath3alin @mysticstarlightduck @the-letterbox-archives + open tags!

Divider from @cafekitsune

[adamsvanrhijn]

another day another thought about how literally all they needed to do to make the maud plotline make sense. before even making it Better. is to simply have her not go to anybody's house other than aurora's

[obligatory-name-change]

reading dungeon meshi

[true-blue-sonic]

Last year Ian Flynn said that Sega gave him an answer on Silver's time travel. So it might get explained in the next two issues but if it was said at that point then it seems they really are going with the involuntary time travel.

Any explanation is better than none, though with the comics it is clear previously-established things can change on a dime... Silver's involuntary time travel directly contradicts earlier issues from the Metal Madness (is that Beeg Metal Sonic's name? I can never remember) saga, after all. I do however feel that the proposed setting of the coming two issues does not entirely lend itself to deep dives into Silver's time travel, considering the whole Silver Is Going To Accuse Duo/Mimic Of Sussiness While Being Cringefail (And No-one Will Listen To Him) plot that the two solicitations tell us is going to happen. I'm not sure how any deep, actual exploration of Silver's time travel abilities fit in there, assuming they will give us something more substantial than the two or three throwaway lines we've had about that topic so far. Though on the other hand, since the solicit for #64 also says "Then, Blaze comforts Silver as they bond over being away from home and in Sonic's world.", maybe they could talk about it there?

Honestly, I just want answers, and then preferably something that also makes the tiniest bit of sense. I don't like the idea that Silver cannot control his time travel, but I can make more peace with it if we have any idea how it works and what does control it.

[ridiculouslyunintelligent]

hot take: the problem with doctor who is NOT that they brought billie piper back, it is NOT that ncuti left early, it is NOT that 15 never faced a dalek or a cyberman, and it is CERTAINLY NOT that it’s ’too woke’

the problem with doctor who is that they have forgotten how to engage an audience without utterly confusing them. if i were a writer, this is what i’d change:

1. i would lower the stakes

my biggest issue with dw in recent years is that the stakes are always SO high - it’s always ‘we need to sort this out or else the ENTIRE UNIVERSE WILL END. this rarely happened at the start of nuwho. of course, there were instances where galaxies and universes were at stake, but there were also plenty of instances where the doctor solves issues to A. save his own skin, B. save his friends, and C. to save smaller populations of people and/or generally do what is morally right.

prime example is in new earth. the world isn’t really at stake, he has a couple of objectives: get cassandra to piss off, free the test subjects, stop the infections from spreading. he doesn’t spend the hour worrying that if he doesn’t help then the world will end, he sees a problem that’s morally corrupt and he solves it for the sake of that group. the payoff is just as good, and actually IMPROVES the payoff for episodes where a bit more is at stake, like the poison sky, for example.

2. i would stop plots from spilling over across seasons

i’d like to remind everyone that, although there were things that kind of linked into each other and were mentioned again, generally for the first 4 seasons of (new) doctor who, an overarching issue was built up, climaxed, and resolved throughout a single season. for example: bad wolf in s1. this has gotten worse and worse over time but has honestly been a problem since rtd1 ended, and for some reason when he came back it got WORSE than it’s ever been!!! there’s just way too much overspill across seasons, things even span accross different doctors more recently which is just too much at times. when it’s little things it doesn’t matter, but it’s not. again, this has been an issue before this finale, but this finale is a good example since there were a hundred and one loose ends before he regenerated. when nuwho began, they literally stated each regen would be treated as a soft reboot and their neglect of that has been a downfall.

3. i’d make doctor who dirty and grungy again

it’s too clean futuristic ultra modern sci-fi these days. the tardis doesn’t look like he stole it. what happened to those fun tardis scenes where the entire thing would shake as it took off and landed? why is everything so light and clean? it should be dim and cozy and imperfect.

4. i’d make the companions’ family members more prominent and interesting characters again

doesn’t take much explaining, really. picture jackie tyler, now picture carla sunday. who has a stronger presence and personality in your head and why is it jackie tyler? (there’s bound to be someone who disagrees and that’s fine but i don’t rlly want to hear about it tbh)

5. i’d re-inject some british whimsy

please don’t mistake this as me saying doctor who ‘isn’t british’ or something weird and gammon-y like that, i love when dw explores different cultures, the story and the engine was one of my highlights last season, i just mean like - let him save the world with a jammy dodger again. let him be brought back to life by a good cup of tea. it makes it enjoyable.

there are lots of things, but those are my main ones.

EDIT: thank you to everyone who has weighed in on this - i’ve found it really interesting to see everyone’s perspectives on this because honestly i could talk for king and country about it, but also i just wanted to say that it makes me kind of sad that one of my only negative posts about doctor who is my most popular post :( if you’re reading this, it’s your sign to do something positive today, if i can help to make just one person’s day better then that’s a win to me :)

[aeyumicore]

caleb body worshipping you—a short drabble.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, body-worshipping, some female descriptors but tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, stretch marks/thigh/tummy/etc worshipping, unprotected sex, petnames, no use of y/n, NOT proofread

━ ✧.˖ A/N: different from my usual plot-fic style. just a little smutty blurb. not proofread, i churned this out in like an hour. had a sudden hit of wanting to write :) enjoy! let's all have fun with the 4.0 update soon or tmw depending on what server you are!

good luck with your pulls guys. love you.

caleb body worships like no other.

caleb will use the rough pad of his thumb to trace the delicate lines of your stretch marks and scars. he commits each one to memory, mapping them like different flight paths—each one he was determined to explore and revere. why? for no other reason than that they mesmerize him and he finds them beautiful against your skin—especially when he’s buried balls deep inside of you.

“never seen anyone or anything so damn beautiful. i’ll never get used to it. never want to. never will.”

caleb sucks at your nipples quite literally like he’s hoping he might find some of your unbearably sweet essence. his tongue strokes at every pebbled groove of your hardened skin, reveling in how something could taste so perfectly sweet, salty, and perfectly you. 

“addicted to you baby, fuck. can’t live without you anymore, without tasting these perfect tits, every morning, every night. every goddamn day. you’ll let me, right?”

caleb has your ass and hips in the air, your feet dangling over his shoulders, and kisses your ankles so tenderly, even as he quite literally jackhammers into you so desperately it’s almost pathetic. his breath is hot and heated against them as he groans, his fingers firm as they massage into your calves

“god, you’re perfect. every fucking inch of you. fucking made for me.”

caleb uses his own hands to clench your thighs tighter around his head when he’s in between them. thick, slim, soft, rough, it doesn’t matter. they’re fucking perfect and he needs to suffocate in them. that’s how he wants to go. smothered by your heavenly, arousal-slicked, trembling thighs.

“tighter princess. juuust like that. good girl. don’t be ridiculous, they’re perfect. give them to me.”

caleb grabs the plush loose skin around your abdomen when he’s close, and it only turns him on more. sometimes, he squeezes a little too hard and leaves behind pretty little bruises in the shape of his fingers, the color of his eyes. and when he does, his lips will always find them pressing gentle reverent kisses into the achy skin, apologizing sincerely.

“fuck, sorry princess. you’re just so soft—feel so good—got carried away. let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.”

caleb cums explosively inside of you. not because he wants to, which he absolutely did, but because you begged for it. because he knew you needed to feel him inside of you—hot, thick, and deep—in order to really feel how desperately he needs you. feel how precious your body was to him. 

“fuuuck—feel that, sweets? feel how dry you milk me? going to live inside of this perfect fucking body. taking me so damn well, princess.”

caleb has dedicated his entire life to you. everything he’s ever done, every decision he’s ever made, has been with you in the forefront of his mind. he’d worship you, mind, body, and soul, for as long as you’d let him. as long as the heavens would allow him. and even then. 

your body truly is a temple. his temple.

© aeyumicore 2025.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[sesamenom]

exactly!! the Eagles are basically bird-shaped Maiar; a Ringlord Gwaihir would be the exact same situation as Ringlord Gandalf (or worse, since Ringlord Gwaihir is also twenty feet tall and can fly). having Gwaihir take the Ring to mordor would be like mailing it directly to sauron with a preorder bonus of a flying Umaia

I know that the nitpicking over why the Fellowship didn’t just ride the eagles to fly directly to Mordor has been talked to death, there’s more than enough answers. The Doylist answer is that would stop the whole book from existing, or replace it with a wholly different book all about eagles. The Watsonian answer is that a) the eagles are a noble independent people not a taxi service, b) the quest is a stealth mission and huge massive giant eagles are not stealthy, c) Mordor has air supremacy and the eagles could only fly to Mount Doom after Sauron was defeated and the Nazguls all gone.

But just now, option d) occurred to me: do we really trust the eagles to withstand the ring? If it tempts Gandalf and Galadriel, surely it tempts Gwaihir the Windlord. Do we want to create the Dread Lord of the Skies? He would wear the Ring on his lovely sharp claw! He would fly higher and swifter than the winds of the world! He would build a magnificent nest from the broken timbers of Edoras! He would eat so many people! All elves and men would be forced underground!

[sl-ut]

i like it better

was gonna wait to post this but i decided to go ahead with it in honour of me graduating with my bachelor’s degree (first gen. university grad!!!) yesterday and starting my new job today!!! i watched thunderbolts* last week and i loved it and i love bob even more.

pairing: robert “bob” reynolds x fem!enhanced!reader

description: every member of the thunderbolts* are struggling with having friends for the first time in… ever, for the most part. the team is shocked to find out that, for some reason, bob is having the easiest time with it. aka, four times the team notices a budding romance, and one time they all realize they’re late to the conclusion.

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS* but not crazy so read at your own risk, reader DOES have a backstory but it’s not detailed in this (i’m considering making this a non-chronological or plot-based series about this pairing i love them smmmm pls lmk if i would be wasting my time or not lol), golden retriever x black cat vibes, slight age gap (r is early-mid 20s, i assume bob is supposed to be late 20s maybe early 30s?), reader has similar powers to wanda–lightly detailed in this fic, swearing, mentions of past addictions and substance use, reader has BEEF w john walker and everyone loves it, READER REFERRED TO BY CODENAME PANDORA

words: 6.4K

date posted: 16/5/25

Despite all of their differences, the Avengers had been able to establish a certain level of respect and friendliness amongst one another–Bucky wasn’t sure of how they had been able to do it. From what he’d heard and experienced, Steve and Tony had butt heads with one another more times than they could count, and that’s saying a lot considering that one of them was a self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist. Clint seemed to be a wild card, not often around enough to be on anyone’s permanent bad side, while Natasha was notoriously good at playing both sides with every member of the team. Bucky Barnes was certain that he would not have lasted more than a week with that crew before they were tearing each other apart, which was quite evident in the way that the team quite literally tore themselves apart when he came into the picture, but somehow, some way, a group of assassins, super soldiers, and gods were able to find some sort of commonality for the sake of team morale, so why couldn’t he do the same with this team?

He inarguably had more in common with this group than Steve had with the others. He, Yelena, and Alexei were highly trained assassins; he and John both super soldiers who, at one point, worked for the U.S. government; he and Ava were both the results of some lab experiments thanks to SHIELD aka HYDRA and both had a tendency to stick to themselves; he and Bob–well, he wasn’t sure that he had anything in common with Bob aside from the crippling mental illness that accompanied a not entirely consensual superhero lifestyle. However, there was one final member of the team that he had more in common with than any of the rest, and she was the one he found the most difficult to break through to. 

The girl had been saved from a HYDRA base not too long after the Battle of Sokovia, where she’d been held hostage and used as a lab experiment for the vast majority of her life. She was only a kid then, barely old enough to have a valid driver's license, but Steve had taken her under his protection just as he had done with Bucky. Her powers had been unstable, a failed attempt to recreate the exact abilities of Wanda Maximoff without the use of the mind stone, but when Steve, Nat, and Bucky had been forced to go on the run, Shuri was able to create some sort of blockers for her mind, to isolate her abilities from use so she no longer had to fear losing control. Now, here he was over five years later, compact onto a superhero team with her, though she no longer the tortured child he had once promised his best friend that he would protect, and he wasn’t entirely certain as to how she had regained her powers, but she had grown to have a steely wall between herself and the other New Avengers, as they had been deemed, especially with him.

On one hand, he could understand that the girl had been traumatized, much like he had, but instead having no fond childhood memories to look back on except for the few months that she had been able to stay at the Avengers Compound with Steve. But on the other hand, he was growing increasingly frustrated with the attitude that she had developed–snarky, bratty, and bold; the teenage phase that she’d been denied of now surfacing during her twenties. She could be unpredictable, either making her presence known through witty comments or ignoring any of their existences, which made it especially stange to Bucky when he began to pick up on certain tendencies she had when it came to Bob. 

If Bucky were asked to describe Bob in three words, they would be um, uh, and nice. Bob was the nicest of the group, though that was no great feat when you considered exactly what sort of people had been assembled into the team, but Bucky knew relatively little about him. He was the most dangerous of them all without question, but still for whatever reason had settled into the role as a walking punching bag with little fight. He was awkward, easily embarrassed, an easy target for the others to pick at when he did something wrong. When they had all initially moved into the tower, he was the only one who had made much of an effort to befriend anyone, but he could never seem to hold eye contact with the fiery young woman in fear of taking a verbal lashing, like the others often did, and yet he never did. 

In fact, while he made an effort to avoid being in her path, she more often than not diverted it so that he was her final destination. On an empty floor of the tower where she could isolate herself just about anywhere, as she normally would choose to do, she would seek out wherever he was and silently join him in whatever he was doing.

The first time Bucky noticed it, he was returning from the gym. He’d sent a nod in Bob’s direction as he stepped out of the elevator, then halted in his tracks as his gaze shot back to the scene before him; she was curled up on one end of the couch, legs tucked beneath her as her eyes scanned the pages of the novel in her lap, meanwhile Bob had taken up the space at the other end of the couch, sitting so stiff that Bucky wondered if the girl had held him at gunpoint just before Bucky entered the room. She didn’t even spare the super soldier a glance, only turning the page as he sent a questioning look to the shaggy-haired man, whose eyes widened even further in an effort to convey his own uncertainty with her presence.

Bucky moved on, stepping into the kitchen just across the room to find himself something to snack on, making sure to keep a close eye on the girl–he wasn’t sure whether or not he should start planning Bob’s funeral.

Bob finally broke the awkward silence, stunning the man in the kitchen. Bob had relatively stuck to the practice of speaking when spoken to, but Bucky was certain that he’d never seen Bob speak to her since moving into the tower. 

“I can put something else on, if you want,” he smiled awkwardly at her, eyes flickering between her and the screen, “I’m not really watching it anyways.”

“Don’t be stupid, Bob,” she said as she glanced up at him, and Bucky was certain he saw the slightest curve of her lips as she met Bob’s gaze, “you’re like halfway through. I like this one, anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes moved to the flatscreen on the wall, across from where they were seated, brow furrowing in confusion as his thoughts tumbled through his lips before he could truly process them, “You told me you hated this movie when I watched it last week.”

Her gaze turned to him, sharpening as she narrowed her eyes, “Maybe I just hate when you watch it.”

Bob’s face flushed red as she turned back to her book without another word, awkwardly sipping on his glass of pop as Bucky frowned. He shook his head at the young woman, having learned to let her words roll off his back rather than letting them fester, snatching the first thing he found in the fridge and fleeing the scene, praying that Bob did not ruin whatever sort of good mood he’d put her in so that this wouldn’t be the last time he saw him. 

***

Alexei was the kind of guy that people either loved or hated. He could be loud, obnoxious, sometimes even straight up belligerent, and had possibly the worst ability to read the room that anyone had ever seen. However, he was the most outwardly friendly member of the team, oftentimes being the leading force behind any group activities. He was still a target of the young woman, of course, but rather than taking it as a personal offense, as he mocked Bucky and John for doing, he found some enjoyment in the girl’s taunting. Any time one of her digs was sent his way, she was met with boisterous laughter and usually some sort of unnecessary physical contact. 

He understood very little when it came to the lives of young women, but he was a girl dad at heart. She somewhat reminded him of his Natasha when she was a young girl–which made more sense to him when he discovered that she had been taken in by the late Black Widow and her teammates before the blip. He found himself flocking to her more than any of the others–save for Yelena, of course, claiming that he had no interest in training with anyone but the strongest of the New Avengers.

He came to understand the regular routines of the others who lived in the tower, especially when it came to who was going to be in the training facility and when. He liked that she tended to go later in the morning, allowing him to sleep in later than if he were looking to spar with any of the others, usually sauntering in with a loud greeting, jokingly challenging her to a spar that he would inevitably lose. The Red Guardian was a force to be reckoned with, but no amount of serum could fight off this sort of power. Truthfully, he would have hoped to take on Sentry again, but Bob and the others had been very adamant that Sentry was not to be brought back until they found a way for Bob to better control his abilities, and the young woman was the next best thing. 

Sparring usually ended with the large Russian knocked on his ass, barely having landed a single swing at his opponent as she stood on the opposite end of the mat, barely a drop of sweat on her brow and the only sign of fatigue having been a result of using her powers. Though, as they returned to the main common area afterwards, Alexei would always announce to the others that he had been bested, but it had been a well-fought match. 

“I almost had her,” He grinned as he took a long drink out of the liquor bottle he’d conjured up out of seemingly nowhere, “next time I win, you will see.”

“I’m sure,” the girl droned, turning to where Ava sat at the dining table, “where’s Bob?”

Ava shrugged, raising a brow curiously, “Haven’t seen him. Why?”

“I told him we would go get bagels.”

“I would love to get bagels,” Alexei rose back up to his feet, “I will join.”

“No you won’t,” The girl turned sharply on her heel, “I think you could have better things to do than bother me all day.”

The Guardian, undeterred by her words, chuckled joyously, “Of course, of course. Bring me blueberry.”

As if he had sensed that she had been looking for him, Bob appeared in the doorway of the common area, eyes flickering between Alexei and Ava with a breathy hi before he turned his attention to the woman standing with her arms crossed. His face flushed under her intimidating stare as he began to wring his fingers in front of him nervously.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“Hi,” she echoed back to him, “I was just looking for you.”

If possible, he blushed even more, the pink tint of his cheeks deepening into a burnt shade of red, “Oh, uh, you were?”

Ava tilted her head curiously at his reaction, not entirely sure if Bob was nervous or petrified at her words, though she wouldn’t blame him for either.

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “You still want a bagel or what?”

Relief streaked across his face as he realized why the girl had been looking for him, “Oh, yeah, yeah. Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, pushing past his figure in the doorway, “Good, I’m starving. Let me grab my coat.”

The moment she was out of earshot, or so he assumed, Alexei called out to Bob to grab his attention, “Psst, Bob. Bring me bagel. Blueberry.”

Bob smiled awkwardly before he nodded, jumping as the girl appeared beside him once more, now bundled in a soft brown coat, taking his hand in her own as she all but dragged him towards the elevator without another glance to the others. Bob turned quickly to offer a bashful wave to his teammates before they disappeared around the corner. 

Ava huffed as they left her sight, “Now what was that about?”

Alexei looked at her with his brow furrowed, crossing his thick arms over his chest, “What? I wanted bagel.”

***

Contrary to Bucky’s belief, the young woman actually did consider some of her teammates to be her friends. While her words were often interpreted as nasty insults that were better left ignored, something that she was more apt to respect was the way that Yelena and Ava were able to give it back to her. It was a respect that they earned from her, and she them, leading to a friendship based on past traumatic experiences and forced proximity. When she wasn’t revelling in her loneliness, she was usually in the company of one of the two older women–or her most recent choice of companion, but even then, it did not mean she had given up her frequent enjoyment of alone time. 

Yelena was an early riser, often having slept barely two hours the night before. The three women had spent the last week on an assignment, only returning an hour earlier. The plane made for a rough sleep, though the black eye that Yelena was sporting certainly didn’t help.

She entered the kitchen, finding Ava already seated at the dining table as she dug into a plate heaped with an assortment of breakfast foods. The counter was decorated with a few larger plates piled with eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast served up buffet-style. Behind the counter, Bob was muttering to himself as he messed with the new espresso machine that Bucky had ordered.

“Morning,” the Russian sighed, wasting no time in piling her own plate with food. She’d survived on granola bars and beef jerky for the last week, so a hot, home-cooked breakfast was a vision akin to heaven in her eyes, even if it had been made by Bob–he was getting better, but he was no Gordon Ramsay. 

He turned to glance over his shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of the blonde, “Oh, hi Yelena. How was the mission?”

 “It was okay, boring. Way too easy,” she eyed him curiously as he turned back to the machine, “I thought you didn’t drink coffee, Bob.”

Ava smirked as she spoke through a mouthful of eggs, “It’s for his girlfriend.”

He whirled around at this, eyes wide as a familiar red flush crept up his neck and crawled across his cheeks. His mouth gaped at the two women, seemingly unable to string together the words to defend himself from their taunting stares.

“She’s not–I’m–We–”

“Oh my god,” Yelena laughed, “I had no idea you had it in you, Bob.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No, but you want her to be,” Ava added. “You love her.”

“Who loves who?” Alexei appeared in the kitchen as well, eyes lighting up at the sight of the prepared spread of food, clapping Bob on the shoulder before loading up his own plate, “Bob, I could kiss you.”

“No one loves no one,” Bob frowned, stammering over his words, “I mean, we–”

“Bob loves Pandora,” Ava said again to Alexei, who made a noise of approval through his mouthful of food.

“Oh, this?” Alexei asked, “This I already know.” 

The other third all turned to him in bewilderment, exclamations of surprise leaving their mouths.

“You knew and didn’t tell me?” Yelena asked, a look of betrayal on her face as she launched a piece of toast at her father.

“He doesn’t know anything,” Bob demanded, looking like he could faint at any moment, “she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever you say, Bob,” Yelena chuckled, finally tucking into her food with the exact excitement of someone who hadn’t eaten a hot meal in a week. 

Then came the woman in question, floating in through the kitchen like a spirit with her hair wet from the long, hot bath she’d taken upon their return. The others froze, unsure of whether she had heard what they had been talking about prior to her entry. She wore a pair of black leggings, tucked into a pair of long wool socks beneath her favourite pair of slippers, torso hidden beneath a worn grey sweatshirt–one that Bob was able to recognize all too well. 

“Morning,” he beamed at her, her presence seemingly soothing the embarrassment he’d been faced with as a result of their acknowledgment of his feelings for her, “I, uh, I made breakfast. And coffee, how you like it.”

The girl peered up at him before reaching for the mug that he had offered in her direction, taking a slow sip before a small smile crawled onto her lips as she thanked him. The others watched as she turned to put together her own breakfast, but their eyes were all trained on the shaggy-haired man, following his own gaze as he observed her silently, mulling over her wet hair, down the slopes of her cheeks while they glistened in the soft morning light from her hydrating skin care routine. Her shoulders, covered in the heavy sweatshirt that he wasn’t even sure of how or when she had taken it out of his closet. 

To Bob, she was always the most gorgeous woman on earth, whether she wore her fitted suit or bundled up to combat the bitter nature of New York City, but he always found her the most beautiful when she was home, dressed comfortably and considerably less guarded, where he got to really know her for more than her own trust issues. When she made herself malleable to love, where she allowed him past her guarded walls. Everything that they’d each experienced in the past, all of the trauma that they’d been forced to endure–it was all out in the open and safe, both learning to rely on one another’s presence to feel fully at ease. The only bit his team members were wrong about was about her being his girlfriend–they’d never gotten quite that far, so they had never even made their feelings clear to one another. He wanted more, but he was happy to take things as slow as she needed. 

Ava and Yelena exchanged a glance across the table, flickering between the pair as they joined them at the table, Bob finally picking at his own breakfast as he settled into the seat next to her. He seemed content as they both tucked into their food, silently sharing a few glances as the others finally changed the topic of conversation. 

Though none of them were ready to let Bob away with this for much longer. 

***

John Walker was inarguably the least liked member of the New Avengers, not that he did very much to help with that. He was rude to his teammates, often quite selfish, and quite possibly the most arrogant man in New York City. For someone who boasted about his achievements in the military and as team captain of his high school football team, you might think that he might put some more effort behind his ability to work as a team. After taking on the role of Captain America, however, John quickly learned that he didn’t tend to play well with others. 

When he’d first moved into the tower, he had assumed that, having once already housed the former team of Avengers, there would be ample space for the entire team without encroaching on his personal space. While that was generally true, one thing that John couldn’t help but notice was that, particularly at night, his enhanced hearing often picked up any sounds on his floor, mainly from the neighbouring bedroom, which belonged to Bob. This meant that he was subjected to Bob’s insistent pacing, humming, and occasional snoring when he finally fell asleep, but more recently he had noticed a particular increase in talking. He wasn’t able to make out any words or phrases being said, but the muffled sound of his voice was enough to keep him up at night. He had even brought it up to Bob with a lingering concern of him speaking to Sentry at night, as he’d been known to do before, only to be met with a sputtering, blushing mess, claiming to just be sleeptalking. 

One night, though, John had had enough. The talking, the giggling, John could not figure out what the hell Bob could possibly have going on to sound so happy at two in the morning, but he was going to put an end to it. 

His fist met the door with force, not caring about whether or not he might be waking up any of the others as he impatiently waited for Bob to answer the door, though his anger quickly dissipated into utter confusion as the door swung open to reveal the one person in the world who he actively avoided interacting with. 

“Can I help you, Walker?”

He squinted his eyes at her, taking in her appearance as she stood before him in her pyjamas, hair pushed out of her face by a fluffy leopard print headband and her face coated in some slimy green substance, “Uh, yeah. Where’s Bob?”

The door creaked open a little further to reveal the man in question, appearing at her side with a matching green sludge on his face with his own shaggy brown hair pushed away with a similar fluffy blue headband. 

He smiled bashfully at the supersoldier at the door, “Oh, hi John. What’s up?”

Walker’s eyes flickered between the pair, brow furrowed in surprise, “If I cared a little more I might ask the same thing. It’s two a.m., can this not wait?”

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, “It can’t actually.”

Bob’s eyes widened in shock at her defiance, “I mean, we’re almost done–”

“No we’re not,” she interrupted him, “we’ve still got five steps left in our skincare routine.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” John asked, his patience wearing impossibly thin, “Could you two just finish braiding each other’s hair and shut up already?”

“And why don’t you go take a nap on the freeway?”

“Woah–hey,” Bob bit back his own laugh at the girl’s words, wanting to both deescalate the building tension and stay on her good side; altercations between these two usually only ended one way, which was John a beating without the young woman having to so much as lift a finger. “We’re almost done, Walker. Hell, we’d probably be done by now if it weren’t for this conversation.”

John looked at Bob in surprise as the girl let out a sharp laugh, equally shocked at his words. Bob could be quite snarky when he wanted to be, but he was also somewhat of a peacemaker among his teammates; these weren’t the type of people where fighting would result in bad blood and arguments, it could end in the destruction of the building and a funeral or two. But, that didn’t mean he was unable to have his own issues with his teammates, and one thing he was truly tired of was taking so much shit from the man who was Captain America for all of two minutes.

“You heard him, Walker,” she smirked up at him victoriously, “beat it. We’ll keep it down, wouldn’t want you to miss out on your precious beauty sleep. Lord knows you need it.”

The door slammed shut, rattling with the force of it as it narrowly missed the tip of his nose. The trek back down the hall felt fuzzy to John as he pondered the interaction he’d just had with the pair, even as he laid in the darkness of his room. 

What was she doing in his room at this hour? Since when are they so close? Was Bob wearing a face mask? Why–

What in God’s name are those noises?

***

Valentina had always been a nuisance to the members of the New Avengers, even long before the team even existed. Sure, her involvement in their lives was what had brought them together and helped form a certain bond between them, and had she not done so then there would not have been anyone there to defend New York City from Sentry–though there also wouldn’t be a Sentry if it weren’t for Valentina either. But now that she wasn’t even truly in control of the New Avengers, she still seemed to be keeping one hand on the wheel at all times. 

The personalities of the team didn’t match up very well. Most of them were explosive, manipulative, and deeply traumatized, but one thing that Valentina seemed to put extra importance behind was the idea of team bonding time to promote better unity. In truth, she didn’t really care whether the team got along or not, she just wanted to ensure that they were perceived as unified by the public and by potential threats.

Thus brought the team to be sitting in the living room, arranged in a circle around the wooden coffee table with a deck of cards arrayed across the surface. Nothing brought a group of individuals together like a game of Uno, right? Well, when the individuals were specially trained to conspire and betray one another, perhaps that wasn’t the case. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Bucky groaned as the young woman dropped yet another plus four into the centre pile, “there’s no way you’re not cheating. Where are you getting all of these cards?”

“Magic,” she said, shrugging as she took the last swig from her can of Diet Coke. 

The Winter Soldier let out a sharp exhale through his nose before reaching out to pluck four more cards from the quickly dwindling deck. Next to him, Yelena barely paid attention to the game as she tossed her own card down, eyes trained on the man across from her as he shifted nervously under her stare. Bob wasn’t entirely sure of why Yelena and Ava had been so aggressively staring him down all evening, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with his feelings for the younger woman sitting next to him, he was only hoping that they wouldn’t be bold enough to bring it up in front of the rest of the team–especially her.

Pandora pushed herself back onto her haunches, fingers curling around the empty can as she glanced over at him, nodding at his nearly empty glass of water, “Want another?”

A small, bashful smile curved onto his lips, nodding graciously as she grabbed his glass and stood to her full height, turning to head towards the kitchen. 

“I could use another beer,” John called after her, shaking his empty bottle in her direction.

“Great, the fridge is full of them whenever you’re ready,” she didn’t even spare him a glance over her shoulder as she turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Without missing a beat, Yelena leaned forward. For a moment, Bob thought she was about to reach across the table to peek at the missing girl’s abandoned cards that she had set on the table, so he quickly reached out and pressed his hand against the cards to keep them firmly in their place. 

Yelena looked at him in confusion for a moment, which quickly developed into an expression of betrayal, “Bob! You thought I was going to cheat? Who do you think I am?”

His eyes widened as he registered the offense in her voice, quickly moving his hand away, “Oh, sorry. It just, I don’t know, looked like you were.”

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“You told me not to,” he stared blankly at her. 

She scowled at him, but waved it off, “Have you done anything yet?”

“Done what?” John inserts himself.

“None of your business,” Ava scolded him before turning back to Bob, “well?”

A bloom of red pinched at Bob’s cheeks as he shook his head, “N-no I haven’t. There’s nothing to do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky asked, glancing between the two women and Bob. 

Bob watched Bucky nervously as Yelena vaguely described the investigation that she and Ava had taken upon themselves to conduct. Regardless of the current state of their relationship, Bucky had known the girl since she was a teenager, and had promised his “late” best friend that he would watch out for her, so he was still considerably protective over her (though anytime he tried to show any sign of this he would have a near encounter with the nearest and heaviest object she could hurl his way). 

Bucky’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he turned his gaze to Bob, “You and her? No way.”

Bob furrowed his brow in concern, “I mean, is–I don’t think it’s that outrageous.”

“I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t been hearing them in his room at all hours of the night,” John chimed in, resting his chin on his closed fist as he portrayed his sudden interest in the topic. 

“What?” The others all exclaimed in unison, turning frantically from John to Bob, who’s entire face and neck were now burning. 

“We were just doing skincare!”

Yelena barked out a laugh while Bucky furrowed his brow impossibly further, lips curling in confusion. 

“Come on now, Bobby,” John grinned condescendingly, “you and I both know that’s not true.”

“It is,” Bob demanded, “look, I don’t know what you want me to say but–”

“What’re you guys talking about?” the girl in question asked as she rounded the corner again, resuming her seat on the floor as she placed two fresh glasses of water on the table, one in front of Bob and one for herself. 

The New Avengers all shared an uncertain glance. Sure, they could out Bob right then and there, and the deed would be done. They would become a couple and the team could be spared the next however many weeks before Bob finally explodes from infatuation. Or, of course, they could out him and then have to deal with the aftermath of the young woman not reciprocating his feelings, destroying the strongest relationship that both of them had been able to make since joining the team, and taking away the only calming factor that either of them were able to find to subdue their powers. It was a gamble, and for most of them, it probably wasn’t worth–

“We’re talking about Bob’s love for you, of course!” Alexei roared, joining the conversation for the first time since she’d left–he, of course, had chosen straight vodka for his drink of choice, and while it was nearly impossible for him to get drunk off of it, he’d been able to get his hands on just enough to make him tipsy.

The entire team stared at the large Russian man in disbelief. He’d been half asleep for the last hour, having spent a large majority of the afternoon convincing every member of the team to come spar with him. A cobalt blue shimmer surrounded the young woman for only a second, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared–a reaction of her shock and slight embarrassment, akin to Bob’s beet red cheeks. 

“Dad!” Yelena hissed, “you weren’t supposed to tell her.”

Bob stuttered a slow response, a few jumbled words that truly didn’t make any sense whatsoever. The others sat quietly, soaking in the suddenly chokingly awkward air in the room while Alexei argued to defend himself. 

“What?” he asked, then turned back to the girl, “I tell truth, he talks about you all the time.”

She was silent for a moment, narrowed eyes scanning her teammates so closely that they were a little concerned that she was about to snap on them.

“Well, I would hope so. We’ve been together for months.”

“What?” Bucky barked.

Yelena scoffed out a weak, “Since when?”

“You have?” Ava jolted forward in shock, while John choked on his last swig of beer. 

“We have?”

She turned to meet the wide, teary eyes of Bob. Her expression softened as she took in his appearance, lips appearing dry from his insistent chewing, the colour of his cheeks softening into a dark pink shade rather than the red that had formed out of embarrassment. She reached across, taking his hand in her own and stroking the back of it with her thumb.

“You didn’t know?” She tilted her head in amusement, “Bob, I’ve been sleeping in your bed every night for months.”

Bucky lurched forward, “Okay, a little less info please, some of us don’t need to know the details.”

She squinted at him, “Cram it, Tin-Tin. I’m not talking to you.” 

“I mean,” Bob coughed, lowering his voice to feign some privacy as if he weren’t in a room with highly trained and enhanced individuals, “I never asked–not that I don’t want to–it’s just, I never got to ask you.”

She raised her brows at him, “Yes you did.”

“He did?” John gasped, finding himself much more intrigued by the situation than he ever could have expected. 

She ignored him, “Yeah, right after the fourth of July, remember? You told me you liked being with me.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant–” Bob stammered, blood draining from his face as he noticed the slight recoil of rejection in her body language, her grip on his hand loosening as if she meant to pull away. He tightened his own hold, “I do like being with you, I just didn’t know that’s how you took that. But I would like to. Be with you, I mean.”

A small smile curved onto her lips, and perhaps if she wasn’t sitting in front of an audience, she may have granted him a full grin as she squeezed his hand, “Good. In that case, I’m telling people that I’m the one who asked you.”

Bob nodded, turning to glance at his teammates bashfully, all of whom seemed to be in utter disbelief of what they were witnessing, “Yeah, me too.”

“Ahh, young love,” Alexei sighed, settling into the couch cushions as he slung an arm over Yelena and John’s shoulders on either side of him, “go on, Bob, kiss her.”

“Alright,” Bucky stood up, tossing his cards onto the table, “that’s enough of all the mushy-gushy. I’m going to bed.” he paused hesitantly as he turned to head down the hall, glancing down at the young woman, “I’m happy for you, kid. But let’s keep it PG, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes, “You better hurry up, wouldn’t want the geriatric unit putting out a search party.”

BONUS

This was, without a doubt, the most comfortable Bob had felt since he’d first moved into the tower. Laying in his bed, freshly showered, ceiling fan on, and the woman he hadn’t even known he was dating curled into his side with her head on his chest and wearing clothes entirely from his closet. She wasn’t asleep yet, he knew by the way that her fingertips were slightly twitching against the fabric of his shirt. She liked to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat; she'd told him many times that she found it soothing and helped her drift off to a slumber that wasn’t entirely plagued by nightmares. In turn, her weight on his chest seemed to help with his anxiety, like a weighted blanket that was suspiciously girlfriend-shaped. 

He spoke her name into the darkness of the room, waiting to hear her soft hum of recognition to continue, “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

She let out a quiet giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t know we were dating this whole time. I literally sleep on top of you every night.”

He let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, well…”

“And I let you make out with me all the time.”

“I know–wait, you let me? You haven’t been enjoying it?”

She turned her head to stare up at him, chin settling into the groove of his pec comfortably as she smirked at him, “Well I did at the time, when I thought you were making out with your girlfriend, but now that I know you were actually just making out with some random chick?”

“It wasn’t just some random chick,” he argued, “it was some neighbour chick. I’d seen her around.”

She pinched his side through his t-shirt, causing him to squirm underneath her, “Oh really? I guess that means I was just making out with some nerd I’ve seen around then, huh?”

He smirked, glad for the darkness of the room and it’s ability to conceal his blush from her, “I think I like it better when you call me your boyfriend.”

She turned her head again, returning to her original position as her cheek nestled against his chest, lips gently pressing against the white cotton.

“Yeah, I like it better, too.”