#tiny mention of

[amosprinz]

rarepairs + popular(?) hyv ships

[argo-bolo]

HC/Life Grian headcanons because I having 4am thoughts:

Transmasc non-binary

Uses he/she/they pronouns, but prefers to be proper noun-ed

Demisexual and Demiromantic, messes up platonic vs romantic alot

Unsafe binding habits because he forgor

If avian, doesn't preen self during Life Series because busy surviving (usually Scar forces Grian to sit still for him to preen Grian, no matter where they stand alliance wise)

[rootingformephistopheles]

I’m thinking about a left handed Bucky Barnes who has to relearn how to write after he joins the Avengers

The metal arm is good at plenty of things, but the skills needed to hold a writing utensil and use it aren’t those things. And it hadn’t mattered, as the soldier. He could type perfectly fine, if he needed to hack into a computer to neutralize security or obtain files, and he could shoot more than fine so no one had bothered to teach him how to do it. Really with the amount of technology surrounding him on an almost constant basis he might not even need to, except a) the metal arm doesn’t register on a touchscreen and b) he wants to write again. It’s soothing to him, even if using his right hand is awkward and slow. His letters look like, well, like someone who doesn’t know how to write well, like a child’s, but the more he practices the better he gets, so the whole team starts finding little notes scrawled in Bucky’s nearly illegible hand around the living quarters of the compound. ‘We need milk’ and ‘this is the refrigerator’ and even once ‘I have hidden the remote. Take twelve steps northeast to find your next clue.’ 

Clint found those notes. Took him three hours to track down the damn thing under Bucky’s mattress. Bucky is proud of himself both for writing as much as he did and letting someone go in his room without panicking. 

Eventually he starts writing letters too, mostly to Steve since it feels familiar. He sees Steve every day but there are certain topics it’s just easier to talk about on paper. He knows Steve saves all the letters, even the ones that aren’t about anything, or when half the paper is painted over in whiteout and the other half is so smudged with erasing that even Bucky has no idea what it said originally. 

Steve writes him back too, his penmanship as beautiful as ever, carefully pressing sealed envelopes into Bucky’s flesh and blood hand when Bucky is busy enough that he’ll have to wait until he’s alone to read it. It feels like the right way to do it. Steve learns that Bucky and Nat have more history than either of them had told anyone about. Bucky learns that Steve is still a virgin. 

He thinks about that a lot. 

He thinks about it so much, about Steve so much, that eventually the dam breaks and then Steve isn’t a virgin anymore. 

Moreover, he’s perfectly willing to lie on his stomach, sated and content, and let Bucky write in black and silver sharpie all over his back and down his legs. The words themselves are secret, and Steve doesn’t pry, but Bucky tries to put the feeling behind them into every kiss he places on the few remaining bare patches of skin Steve has left, before Bucky fills those up too.