One thing I really admire about Bucky Barnes is that he came back from seven decades of being either frozen or a brainwashed serial killer and followed that up with years on the run and five years dead and six months in therapy and said you know what?
I might not be able to sleep through the night without torturing myself and I might be floundering around, trying to feel ready to let myself love again but my God, I’m going to buy myself seventeen different coats.
I’m going to have a jacket just for doing dangerous things and another jacket for hanging out and another jacket for going around New York and all of them are different from my Endgame jacket and none of them are my formal winter coat, reserved for deciding not kill my torturer in locations that are experiencing sub-freezing weather.
I might not sleep in a bed or be totally ready to be with Sam but I absolutely have got online shopping down. I might be kind of a mess but I’m going to look damn good being this mess.
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