#dinaahlaurel

What ringtone my muse has set for yours: Superheroes - The Script

What contact photo my muse has set for yours: [here]

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts: He doesn’t get why she types in full sentences with capitals and correct grammar?? Half the benefit of texting is that that isn’t required.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts: As soon as he sees them.

How often our muses text: Pretty regularly.  It’s hard for them to call each other with how busy they are, so texting is the best way for them to communicate when they aren’t together.

How often our muses call: Only if it’s something super important or they can’t text in that moment.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: No.

There were no bad intentions behind the fact that Bucky was on the rooftop starring into the night sky. He was simply enjoying the view. And the peaceful atmosphere. No one could see him sitting there, hidden in the darkness, while he was looking at both the city lights under and the stars above him.

whatever dinah had said just went over his head. ❝oh man am i being too loud? shit i am❞ he laughed. he had a friend formulate a drink that was strong enough to get him slightly tipsy when he needed it. it wasn’t often, just now he wasn’t sure what was going on between him and lois. it was confusing ❝seriously ms lance, thank you for keeping me drunk.. i mean company❞ he laughed 

One of her greatest problems since waking up here in DC was that her powers were back. Marie was most likely one of the few mutants who hated them, and she had been hoping - praying - that this serum that had been invinted would truly help her. But obviously, it had not. Now she was wearing gloves again, constantly worried to accidentally touch someone. Because Rogue knew what would happen then.

So lost in her thoughts, she did notice to late that there was someone else walking down the street, bumping into them as a result. “I... a sorry!” The brunette froze in shock, scared the gloves would not doe their work when noticing her hands laying on the other’s chest.

“Okay, but... how do they think this is supposed to work?” Gwen muttered, mostly to herself, while skipping through the page sof a graphic novel. “Every femal superhero wearing such a costume.... one move into the wrong direction and you would see everything of her. I just mean... why?!?”

Bucky couldn’t really tell why he was there in first place. Different from Steve Rogers and his group of Avengers, he was no hero. And never would be. Sure, he could use his genetical transformed body, but Bucky didn’t exactly feel like that was the solution. He was no saviour, after all.

And still, he was there. Still he was there on Dinah’s side, agreeing to help her mostly because she had been helping him, first. None of them had expected it would end like this, though. First of all, Bucky had never thought his experiences through World War II would effect him like this. That the gun fire would trigger memories. But not in a way others would expect. It did not make Bucky freeze, no, it drove him wild, and, when everything was over and the night was silent again, he was more the Winter Soldier again than anyone else.

Eyes wide, a growl left his lips at the sight of dead bodies everywhere. The smell of blood was tickling his nose, and Bucky knew that this was all because of him. That he had done this. Maybe to protect Dinah, but maybe simply to protect himself. Because he had been trained to act like this.