#whiskeyiisms

“your brother seems to think I punched you in the face.” not that he’s bitter about that, but it’s definitely a sore point for the moment. “why wouldn’t you just tell memphis that josef hit you?”

“boo.” sitting on the couch in the dark when it’s way past midnight has become a habit of late, bucky shuffling a deck of cards in his hand to play endless games of solitare until he’s finally too tired to do much more than sleep. it’s not like he means to startle people, but he also gets an undeniable kick out of watching people jump when he finally says something in the dark. “what are you still doing awake?”

send “⭐️” and i will compliment a random mun!  |  always accept. 

   She’s brought him to a safe place, somewhere he hopefully won’t be found by anyone that’s COMING FOR HIM. Those that want him arrested or killed or WHATEVER the public wants to happen to him because they all think he’s a murderer. It hurts, it really hurts. All he wanted was one normal vacation, a few normal days, and now, he can NEVER be normal ever again. Why had he been so STUPID? He should have been completely sure that everything was over, and now he’s exposed to the world, he should have done something to stop that! EDITH told him all illusions were gone, but...what if THAT wasn’t real? 

                                                           What if none of this is real?

there are times when josef’s found that it’s better to stay quiet and just let whatever’s going to come down on his head come down in peace. this, however, is not one of those times. surrounded but shield’s lowest paid agents - who are really little more than security guards for some of the buildings - his current position says more than he ever can, but he takes a breath before trying to give it a go. “i borrowed some files.” 

josef hasn’t forgotten it’s mother’s day, he’s just not in any kind of state to celebrate. with losses of the disastrous training exercise and the heaviness that he just seems to slip into sometimes. he’s followed his usual pattern of tradition already this morning, going out for an early morning jog ( he does that every morning anyway ), and visiting his parents’ grave so he can take his mother a bunch of flowers. it’s left a hollow ache in his chest that won’t go away, and as such, josef’s decided to crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head in the hopes of blocking out the world. 

he sends jess a text, though, because that’s the right thing to do, even if he’s down.

“not gonna happen.” they’re not here for a fight - at least, he’s not. josef’s used to the comments anyway, the weird looks as he carries his son everywhere in a car seat. “ma, it’s fine, just leave it. she can say all the shit she wants, it’s not going to hurt us.”