#❛ fifty words for murder and i'm every one of them ❜ — musing

[aluckiicoin]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 .

Share at least 5 songs that you associate with or remind you of your muse!

Victorious – Panic! at the Disco

I'm like a scarf trick It's all up the sleeve I taste like magic Waves that swallow quick and deep Throw the bait Catch the shark Bleed the water red Fifty words for murder And I'm every one of them

2. resentment – a day to remember

I need a short term fix for a long term problem Can I learn to love these chains? I know I had a point but now I forgot it While I'm circling the drain No, I can't stop feeling like every day's exactly the same With a one track mind I don't think I can change Trapped in memories, stuck on replay, replay, replay

3. pit of vipers – simon curtis

Now I must admit that I have played a part In the way that things have gotten out of hand But it's escalated almost to an art I want to fix it, but I don't think I can I'm falling deep into a pit of vipers Over me, over me and I can't break free

4. punching bag – palaye royale

Go ahead and mold me, bought me and they sold me I'm smiling upside down Now I'm all used up, ready for my close up Am I pretty underground? I can be your Barbie, I can say sorry I can do whatever you want Go ahead and slap me if it makes you happy Use and abuse me till I'm gone

5. manic – wage war

Out of body, out of mind Tellin' everyone I'm fine, but I'm sellin' 'em a lie Out of body, out of mind Think I'm running out of time Oh God I don't wanna die

(and white night as honorable mention but that felt like cheating)

Tagged by: @maskednihilism

Tagging: @veritas-ratio-rp , @grislyintentions and whoever else wanna do it

[calisources]

DANIEL MOLLOY SENTENCE QUOTES. quotes taken and spoken by daniel molloy from amc's interview with the vampire (2022). you can change pronouns and names as you see fit for your muses. mind you all of these are mostly sarcastic so beware.

It's not an interview; it's a... it's a fever dream told to an idiot.

 I've been fired from three papers, hired back at two of them, third got gobbled up by Knight Ridder. So to be clear here, I'm a goddamn reservoir of dos and don'ts.

Yeah, well, mortality beats a heavy drum.

Whole planet's having a moment, I'd say.

Here's another question: That's the sun out there; where's your coffin?

So you played docent to the gentleman vampire?

Perfect cover for a vampire.

I'm assuming you only met at night.

 It was a good place to score. I did what I had to.

That'll make a great blurb.

Mention vampires in one of those ,readers tend to call bullshit.

Things didn't end well last time, so forgive me if I'm a little nervous.

Maybe your story wasn't worth telling.

I ask the questions, you answer the questions. Anything that can't be verified, I send to my researcher.

Memory is a monster. We forget. It doesn't.

'(name)' Never heard of him.

Don't expect every reader to swallow that one.

Blissing out post-priesticide.

Fifty years later, you talk like he was your soulmate. Like you were locked in some fucked up gothic romance. Why?

You were the prince of your district.

1917 doesn't sound like it was such a bad year.

For a killing machine, I kinda like her.

A band-aid for a shitty marriage?

Poor dear. She wasn't held enough between ritualistic murders.

Look, Charlie Manson wrote a couple of beautiful songs. Still, he was Charlie Manson.

Won't matter what your intentions are. It's the world out there now.

Once you put it out there, they decide what it is. It can get away from you.

Context. Sure. Warn the world about a forthcoming apocalypse. 

 I keep waking up just before you ask me back to your shitty apartment.

'He only beat me the one time, Officer. It's not his fault.' Classic Stockholm, eh, Doc?

Legal dope makes me constipated, but the wit flows like a river.

 In the eyes of a 20-year-old, you were wasting the gift.

Yeah, well, he lived in a dump the last time we did this.

 I want to interview you.

Can an immortal meet immortality?

Cold, calculating and on mission.

You aimed at the navel, seduced the seducer.

Well, isn't that neat and tidy?

Not exactly the adventure of our lives feeling i'm feeling.

There's a feeling that she hated your guts there for a while.

Murder, what murder? It was an act of mercy.

You spared him, out of some fucked up idea you had about love.

She recorded his last words in his own blood.

The girl did not have a fucking problem tossing him on the grill, okay?

You chose (name) over her, time and time again.

This is the same shit that happened in San Francisco.

[xmessanger-of-the-godsx-blog]

Meet the Muse | Hermes

Name: Hermes

Age: Unknown

Height: 6'0

Birthplace: Mount Cyllene, Greece

Birthday: June 20th

Zodiac: Gemini 

Sexuality: Open to whoever

FC: Cole Sprouse

Likes/Interests/Hobbies: vodka, magic, entertainment, rain, coffee, stargazing, nature, shiny things, long talks, cooler weather, reading, flying, traveling

Dislikes: drama, being pestered, getting poked, overconfidence, rudeness, try hards, getting overly cold, someone copying him, someone not respecting his powers, someone thinking he's childish

Family History: Hermes was able to walk by noon when he was born, and not soon after he killed a tortoise and made a Lyre by stretching strings across its shell. He ended up stealing Apollo's cattle, and as a forgiveness gift, he granted Apollo the Lyre. Hera on the other hand, resented Hermes. He dressed up in swaddling clothes and pretended to her her son Ares. After finding out about Hermes' trick, she ended up liking him in the end. Him and Apollo shared the same love with Chione, where they impregnated her on the same day. Autolycus took after Hermes, while Philammon took after Apollo.Despite Hermes also being associated with fertility, he had few partners. For example, his offspring is said to be Autolycus, Cephalus, Eurytus, Eudorus, and Pan. Though Hermaphroditus is said to be another. However, Hermes fell in love with Herse, and when her sister became enraged, Hermes turned her to stone. Hermes is also associated with Hades and Persephone, acting as a guide to send others into the Underworld. He was close with Zeus, acting as an aid in his extramarital seductions in Zeus' affairs. It is also said that Hermes invented language and or the Greek alphabet as well with the Fates, along with weights and measurements 

Description: Because of Hermes' trickery and theft, he sought out other ways he could use this to his advantage. He found his way into the world of magic, and his journey started there. He taught himself how to be a magician, and became very good at it on his own. Granted, being a God, he has done disappearing acts anyway. But to him, doing it for entertainment for other people and himself seemed fitting. He used his theft as an advantage, and would usually steal people's watches or other precious items during an act. He made it seem as though it was part of the show, but in reality he took more from people than he entertained them. He also used a wand with two entangled sealants to his advantage as well. The wand had magical powers, one of them being the ability to put or wake people up from sleep. He's used this as a form of hypnosis, though he knew the actual truth behind it. His winged sandals also came in handy when showing others he could fly without taking damage. Or that he could levitate on demand

Abilities:

Strength

Durability

Stamina

Agility

Reflexes

Aligist

llusionist

Invisibility

Mind control

Regeneration

Personality traits:

He's cocky, let's be honest

He's playful and sometimes manipulative

He's an actual sweetheart when he's comfortable

It takes him a little bit to feel at ease with someone, but he'll get there eventually

He's (of course) a trickster and will use this as a way to avoid talking about how he feels/is feeling

He'a very sarcastic and witty

He doesn't like talking about his feelings too often

He can be serious but will otherwise brush things off

He can be kind and compassionate

He cares for others when he gets to know them

He can be reserved

He's an extrovert and likes getting to know people

He can be overly confident at times

He can be a little fucker when he wants to be

He's protective

He can feel for others, sometimes too much

He can be stubborn

He's a deep lover

He can get defensive at times

Additional information/miscellaneous facts:

He may or may not have gotten in trouble with the police before…

He's almost gotten caught as a God during an act

He doesn't like physical affection too much, but will accept it from the right person

He likes having his free time

He's not very lazy

He gets distracted a lot

He has ADD(are we surprised?)

He likes to mess with Apollo more than anyone else

He likes keeping busy

He doesn't like getting bored

He hates being talked down to

He almost broke a guys leg before…

He has quite a few scars on his hands while attempting more dangerous tricks

He likes working with cards the most

He's even assisted Zeus while being at the Casinos

He visits Olympus more than he does Cyllene

General tags:

🕊fifty words for murder and I'm every one of them | aesthetic

🕊let me be your killer king | home

🕊i taste like magic | desires

🕊i'm like a scarf trick it's all up the sleeve | magician

🕊my touch is black and poisonous | musings

🕊all my friends we're glorious | roleplay

🕊living like a washed up celebrity | self

Ship tag:

🕊no trick and no foolery | lovers

Rule section:

**these are copied and pasted from my main blog @xking-of-the-cloudsx

NO MINORS! Mun is OF AGE, if you are under 18, DO NOT follow!

I don’t care if you’re “close enough” to 18, or are mature for your age

If you’re under 18, don’t interact until you’re of age

If mun finds out that a partner is underage, they will be reported and blocked

Please don’t god mod, it will result in dropping of threads almost instantly

Hate towards RP partners will result in blocking

Hate towards mun will yield the same result

If your intentions are to hate on another muse/mun through messages, don’t interact

Mun or Hermes is not obligated to reply, so be patient/don’t pressure them

Some themes may be off limits or would rather be discussed first-for example, NON-consensual rape, incest, minors in 18+ scenarios, discrimination of anyone, and SOME violence/injury is off limits. Such as car accidents, shootings, stabbing, etc. But gore, angst, and other forms of violence can be okay

Hermes doesn’t feel comfortable with killing another muse(s). The line is drawn at violence, threats, arguing, etc

Will not RP through messages but to plot and talk OOC, it’s not too enjoyable for mun and Hermes

One line replies will most likely result in dropping of threads or posts-please don’t do this if you want to interact. It’s quite annoying, though sometimes it’s okay for short posts

If previous rules are broken, there may be a simple warning-unless age is the problem

Notes from the mun:

This blog is semi-selective, but will remain as fair as possible

Feel free to tag the muse in open posts or starters!

If you want to interact, feel free to send in or tag the muse in whatever you’d like. You don’t have to ask

Open to OC’s, fandom based characters, and canon characters-so, anyone

Each relationship/plot/thread takes place in AUs

Relationships can be platonic, but mun would prefer each one to have some form of romantic/sexual intention

Pre-established relationships are welcome!

If you’re not sure about shipping, feel free to ask

If there’s a problem with the plot or there’s questions, tell/ask me

With the previous statement, this blog may contain dark topics at times and if any of it makes your muse/mun uncomfortable, please tell me

If possible, mun would like to know at least a little bit of information about your muse if there isn’t an obvious bio already. Though this isn’t a requirement, just makes creating threads easier

Updates are always possible, so if there is any I’ll be sure to add a note of where the update is

[perfectdisastcr]

“Everything’s alright—It’s gonna be okay.” He tried, light coo as he looked to the young woman, trying to understand what exactly they had gotten themselves into. The danger surrounding them wasn’t part of the plan, and perhaps left their fate up in the air and Frank took a glance around, with every intention of getting them out of there. “Can you walk?” He asked, glancing back and trying to get a better a look at her, kneeling closer while offering his hand out without so much as thinking about her situation. “We need to get out of here, before it’s too late.”

@prxtty-muses | lucille & frank

[endtiimes]

monokuma tag drop!

♪ — fifty words for murder and i'm every one of them. ﹝ .monokuma ﹞ ♪ — 'cause you're a natural. ﹝ .monokuma / visage ﹞ ♪ — something beautiful and tragic in the fall out. ﹝ .monokuma / musings ﹞ ♪ — naivete ran through them. ﹝ .monokuma / aesthetics ﹞ ♪ — where did all the good people go? ﹝ .monokuma / hcs ﹞

♪ — bloodstains in our vision. ﹝ .monokuma / main ﹞

[perfectxpansyxparkinson]

“I’m Not Always A Bitch - Just Kidding. Go Fuck Yourself.” 

♦ Indie Pansy Parkinson ♦ Semi-Selective, Multi-Ship ♦ Written By Alisa ♦

Bio

Rules 

[tacyvng]

🏠 🕕

🏠 - What does their living space look like?

although his penthouse is always clean, taeyang owns several safe houses around in seoul. his most frequently used, situated near the very center of the city, looks like any other apartment, but is marked with years of rough threatment - such as broken furniture 

🕕 - The longest they’ve ever been awake

about 4 days is the longest tae has been awake. it was shortly after he had come from nyc back to seoul as he spent that time tracking down his sisters. it took longer than anticipated as he had to stay anonymous as well as gathering information, but he’d say it was worth it.

[cassidykilmcr]

@ofangcl

[tisfan]

Hi, tisfan! I'm going to drop a prompt/request in here, feel free to ignore it! I know you're busy, and you have so many stories already! Anyhow, I'm reading a fic where Bucky is...well, fixing his hair (you know, brushing, blow-drying, etc), because hair just isn't that pretty without some serious maintenance. And now I really, really want a fic where Tony is helping Bucky with his hair. Like a comfort thing (or a sex thing, I like both). If you feel like it. Thank you!

justalurkr said: Headcanon: Bucky keeps his hair long because Steve's hair is still going strong with the 40s vibe. Clint' s hair sorely tests his resolve, tho!

gothgalahoy said: Are you still taking prompts? If so, here's a WinterIron one. They're both touch starved. One of them figures it out during matinance on Bucky's/James' arm. Epic cuddles and feels ensue.

A/N: So, we’ve got a three-for-one fic here; it’s about 3,000 words, tho, so I don’t feel too bad about it... WinterIron, pre-slash, pining Bucky, touch-starved, Tony helping, hair care, panic attacks, etc.

Bucky’s Bad Hair Day

There was nothing wrong with long hair, Bucky told himself. Men woretheir hair long these days, just as often as women wore their hair short.

Hydra had let his hair grow; thick and luxurious, because for thebetter part of the fifties and sixties the Asset had angry, red scars on hishead and they were both noticeable and memorable. They’d faded over time, butby the time they did, his handlers didn’t bother to look at him anymore with aneye toward fashion. As long as the Asset was relatively clean, no one seemed tocare.

The scars, when he could see them through the thick hair, weresilvery and flat, these days. It wouldn’t draw so much attention, if he cut hishair shorter.

And it wasn’t like anyone had said anything -- much -- to himabout it. Steve had ruffled his hair one time, and said he looked like a mop.But that was Steve, and he was always being a little punk, even though hewasn’t that little anymore.

Natasha had fingered the ends of his hair at one point, scowling,and then a box of hair care products had shown up in his next delivery. Oiltreatments and mend-the-ends care, and enough goo and gel and spritzes to makeup a haberdashery counter display.

So, there was nothing wrong with long hair and Bucky was prettymuch okay with that.

Right up until Barton got a haircut.

Bucky was used to Barton being a little on the scruffy side; notquite the “murder hobo” look that Bucky himself sported. (He’d lost track ofwhere the murder hobo comment started, but someone had said it, and theneveryone had said it, and Bucky just gave people his murder glare and went on withhis life. He really, most of the time, did not care what other people thoughtabout him.) Barton had a mop of sandy-blonde hair, scruff on his chin and healways, always missed a patch of bristles on one side of his jaw or the other.He was frequently unshowered, sometimes went for days at a time in the samepair of broken-string sweatpants, and often had his shirt on inside out.

Avengers… were not fastidious people, really. If you could fightwhen you were in your combat gear, you could lounge around in the common roomin a terrycloth bath towel with cucumber slices on your eyelids. No judgements.(Tony. And yeah, okay, so Bucky was totally judging that. Mostly. Excepthe had to admit it did wonders for the bags under Tony’s eyes from lack ofsleep and if Bucky borrowed some cucumber slices for himself once in a while,no one had to know about it.)

So when Barton came in with his new haircut, Bucky noticed.

He was cleaned up, his hair was gelled to perfection and the sideswere spiked and weirdly soft-seeming. Bucky… had the weirdest urge to rub hishand over Barton’s head and test the texture of that hair.

And just as he was thinking that, Tony came into the room, one ofhis unbelievably vile smoothies in one hand. He wrapped his lips around thestraw and took a deep suck from the cup. Bucky tracked Tony’s every movement --helpless against his obsession with the man -- watching the flex of hisbackside as he walked, the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled and said,“still the prettiest, Legolas.” Tony ran one bronzed hand through Barton’shair, smiled even wider, and did it again.

Barton stropped his head against Tony’s hand, practically purringlike a kitten. “You think I look hot?”

“Oh, my god,” Tony said, lowering his sunglasses to give Bartonthe once-over. Slowly. “You look like a billion bucks, and believe me, I knowwhat that looks like.”

(more below the cut, or catch the whole thing on A03)

Barton chuckled and looked down at himself. “Feel like at leastfifty-thousand, so it’ll have to do.”

“I’d totally do you,” Tony assured him. He grabbed a banana fromthe basket, rubbed Barton’s head one more time. “Save some kisses for me.”

“You got it, sugar-daddy,” Barton said.

Bucky watched, dumb-struck, until Tony was out of the kitchen andback into the elevator. What the fuck was going on?

“Maybe I should get a haircut,” Bucky mused, fingering the ends ofhis long hair, then flipping them out of his face. He wondered if Tony wouldrub his hair like that, if it were short and spiky and soft.

You cannot teach fearlessness with terror.

It wasn’t… it wasn’t… it shouldn’t have been… Bucky was notafraid.

The barber shop had a row of windows that let Bucky look insidewithout actually approaching the counters or barbers. There were shiny silverchairs that tipped backward to let a customer get a shampoo. Another row ofchairs had loud dryers where women and men alike sat, flipping throughmagazines or poking at their phones while they waited for their hair to dry, orfor various chemicals to finish processing.

Bucky’s overly sensitive nose caught the whiff of harshastringents and bleach, colors and curl-relaxers. It was overpowering, evenoutside, making his eyes sting and the inside of his nose flare and ache.

His ear caught the delicate sound of scissors, metal against hair,snip snip. The buzz of clippers, the harsh burr of hairdryers. The clickand hiss of flatirons.

One stylist thumped the chair’s pedal a few times. Another leanedher client back into the sinks and the woman under the cape and towels moanedwith almost sensual pleasure.

Bucky shivered all over, his flesh crawling.

Too many people. Too close to him.

Sharp blades; Bucky could identify dozens of potential weapons.

He… could not do this.

There were too many risks; not to himself. If it was just his ownsafety, his own comfort, maybe he could manage it. He’d done so much worse,allowed it to happen.

You couldn’t teach fearlessness with terror. But you could become numb to fear. There was nothing else thatHydra could have done to his body, to his mind, that was half as terrible aswhat he’d already experienced.

It wasn’t what it would do to him. Bucky could lie to himself ifit gave him comfort. But it was also what Bucky might do, if someone came tooclose to him with those scissors. If they tilted him back. If… if…

He…

He might hurt someone.

Bucky clung to that idea. And then turned away.

The one time, Bucky thought, that he wanted to get into theelevator, go straight up to his floor and take refuge in the back of hiscloset, would be the one time that Tony would stick an arm in between the doorsbefore they closed and cram himself in the elevator, a whole horde of paparazzinot inches behind his heels.

“Hey there, Ghost in the Shell,” Tony said, punching the buttonfor the common floors with unnecessary force. “What a day, don’t tell me, I’lltell yo-- are you all right?”

And Bucky was just weak enough to admit the truth.

“No.”

Tony blinked at that, brown eyes full of worry, that subtle flareat the corners. He opened his mouth, maybe to make some sort of smart-assedcomment, and at this point, Bucky would welcome it. Would welcome the spark ofheat, the frisson of anger. Instead, what he said was, “Is there anything I cando?”

“I… need a haircut,” Bucky confessed. He shook his head, lettingthe long tresses swing, illustrating the need. “An’ I can’t… I jus’ can’t. Getin one of those chairs.” It hurt, confessing. Like pulling out his fingernails.Admitting it. He was the goddamn Winter Soldier and he couldn’t fuckin’ sit ina chair and let some harmless little gossipy woman cut his fucking hair. Heatbloomed over his cheeks, across the back of his neck.

“I couldn’t take a shower,” Tony said, apropos of nothing. Ormaybe it wasn’t quite nothing. “After Afghanistan. For months. Couldn’t… havewater in my face.”

“How’d… how’d you cope?”

“Badly,” Tony said. “Wouldn’t ask for help. Knew I needed it,but…” He shrugged a shoulder. “Thought I could do it on my own.” He gave Buckya direct look. “And I know you can. But the thing is, you don’t haveto.”

Jesus fuck, did the guy mind-read, too, on top of everything?

“All ears,” Bucky said, “if ya got a suggestion.”

Tony flicked a quick look at him. “You trust me?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t not trust Tony, which was more than hefelt about most people. He and Tony, well, they’d already seen the worst ofeach other, hadn’t they?

“Come on,” Tony said. “Come up to my place, I have a set up from--well, it’s what I do, isn’t it? Change my environment to suit myself.”

The whole reason this had become a thing for Bucky was because hewanted Tony to touch his hair, to joke and flirt with him, the way he had withBarton, right? He trusted Tony not to hurt him. Trusted himself to not to hurtTony; never again.

Wordlessly, Bucky nodded.

Tony’s bathroom was some sort of miracle; huge, larger than thefreaking house Bucky had grown up in, nearly. There was a deep jacuzzi pool, asauna, a few different showers. One of those chairs that tipped back into asink and Bucky was frozen at the sight of it, until Tony lifted it, bicepsstraining, and moved it out of the room without even asking what was up withthat. Bucky loathed himself, mocked himself for being afraid of a goddamnchair, but he wasn’t about to deny that he felt worlds and away better with itgone.

Tony reached out, hesitated. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, roughly.

Tony fingered Bucky’s hair, rubbing one lock together. Tipped itup to inspect the ends. Peered at his scalp. “You’ve been taking pretty goodcare of it,” he said. “Bet Nat sent you one of those boxes of hers; I have onefor skin care. She seems to think my hands need to be soaked in moisturizertwice a day.”

The way Tony’s fingers felt, running over Bucky’s scalp, he wouldagree. Tony’s skin was like velvet, heavy and soft at the same time.

Bucky shivered, goosebumps scrawling over his head and down theback of his neck. Tony pulled back and Bucky reacted without thinking, grabbinghis wrist. “No, don’t…” he said. “That… feels good.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, I’ve been told I have magic fingers, in moreways than one. So, what are you looking at doing to your hair? I mean, rightnow it’s just kinda ragged. We could trim the ends up, make it all one length,just kinda get your toes wet, as far as the hair cutting business goes.”

“Do you know how to cut hair?”

Tony gave him a flat stare. “I built a new element in my workshop,I think I can give you a trim, Edward Scissorhands. I might not be able to getreal fancy, but if you can handle this, I have a hairdresser, and she doescall-ins.”

“Start slow,” Bucky said, nodding.

“Yep,” Tony said. “So, you can wash your hair, or just get it wet,or I can help you with that, whatever you need.”

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip. Tony had been so, so kind, andBucky wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask any further.

“My… back when I was a kid, my Ma washed my hair, bent over thesink,” Bucky said, hesitantly. There weren’t any bolts of fear or apprehensionwith that, just the faint, old buzz of annoyance when she got water in hisears, or sometimes it would drip down his back. And, of course, the oldimpatience for being a boy of eight or nine and having to be clean, some sortof anathema to his normal way of life. Stickball and paper-waxed horehoundcandies.

“I can do that,” Tony said. His hand was still in Bucky’s hair,fingers soothing on the back of his neck. “Might want to lose the shirt, and…yeah, suit’s probably not the best for that, gimme a minute.”

Which was how Bucky found himself on his knees in front of TonyStark, the back of his neck horribly exposed and vulnerable.

Except he kept waiting for the panic to rear up -- how was itpossible to have a panic attack about the possibility of having a panic attack?-- but it didn’t.

The water was warm, soothing, and Tony’s voice was constant andcalm in his ear. He didn’t talk about anything urgent, or even anythingimportant. A little bit about Edwin Jarvis, his father’s butler who’dpractically raised him, a couple of pranks he’d pulled in high school. Some ofhis past with Jim Rhodes, back at MIT. Good stories. From a simpler, happiertime.

The shampoo Tony used on him, working it through the long locks,smelled like Tony.

By the time Tony rinsed him out and tied a towel around thedripping mess, Bucky was almost completely relaxed, just the soft, warm feel ofarousal -- not even urgent, just a bittersweet thread of wanting that ranthrough his contentment -- keeping him awake.

Tony brought him into the dressing room, a huge showcase with afew dressers and clothing racks, but mostly mirrors. “I thought you might bemore comfortable if you can see me the whole time I’m near your head with apair of scissors.”

Bucky nodded, took the chair that Tony offered. He was shiveringminutely, and Tony kept a hand on his shoulder until he calmed.

Tony ran a comb through his hair, the various conditioners anddetanglers making that task ten times easier than it had been whenever Buckytried it. His hair was stupidly thick.

“I’m just gonna even it out here, okay?” Tony said, parting it alittle to the left, and then checking the length by running his fingers downit, standing just in front of Bucky and leaning back a little to look. He wasshirtless, as Bucky was, but Bucky hadn’t noticed the scarring on Tony’s chestbefore, where his arc reactor had been. The source, Bucky knew, of everythingthat had come after; Tony’s own missile that had nearly killed him, that he hadused to rise from the ash. Becoming Iron Man.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to rest his ear against that scar,listening to the heart underneath, feeling the heat of Tony’s skin. He didn’t.

Tony showed him a pair of scissors, sharp as they had to be forcutting hair, let Bucky feel the weight of them. They were a weapon, althoughit hardly mattered. Bucky’s entire body was a weapon, it wasn’t like one pairof blades was going to make a difference.

“You ready?”

“Go ahead.”

As a supersoldier, Bucky could hold his breath for about elevenminutes. He was pretty sure he stopped breathing as soon as Tony opened thescissors and remained in that state until Tony was done. He exhaled in a rushas soon as Tony stepped back, vision flecked with speckles of black and red,head spinning. Tony put the scissors down and was back to standing in front ofBucky, one hand on either shoulder.

“You okay?”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to do; he was… he thought he was okay, but…“Yeah,” he said, “but… stay?” He wasn’t sure what he was asking for. It wasTony’s room, if anyone would be leaving, it would be Bucky.

“Touch-starved,” Tony said. “Check. You know that’s a thing,right? Neurologists have discovered that skin-to-skin contact is vital tomental health.” The whole time he was talking, Tony’s fingers stroked downBucky’s shoulders, raising trails of gooseflesh in their wake. “Physicalcontact is necessary to being human, almost as much, if not moreso, than food.There’s nothing wrong with it; that you can even miss it shows that you’restill a person inside.”

Bucky found himself suddenly on the floor, arms around Tony’swaist who was sprawled, undignified. “It’s okay,” Tony repeated, and Buckypressed his cheek to Tony’s belly, listening to his heart racing under hisskin. “It’s all right.”  

They sat that way for a good twenty minutes, Bucky letting hishand wander, touching as much of Tony’s skin as he could reach, his back, hiship, across his shoulder, let his finger trace the lines of Tony’s face. Whenthe pad of his index finger brushed Tony’s mouth, his lips pursed and hepressed a kiss gently to Bucky’s fingers.

Finally, Bucky was able to get himself under some sort of control,some semblance of sanity. He was blushing, furiously embarrassed, ashamed ofhimself and his weakness. “Tony, I’m…”

“Don’t say sorry, honeybunch,” Tony said. “Consider it doctor’sorders. We can make it part of your recovery. One hairwash and cuddle sessionevery few days. Do you a world of good.”

Bucky ducked his chin. “You don’t gotta take care of me.”

Tony put his finger against Bucky’s jaw and gently and lifted hisface. “It’s good for me, too. Helps me, knowing I’m making a difference. If youneed it, I’m… honored. To help.”

Bucky considered that for a long moment. “Okay… okay.”

“Then I’ll see you in --” Tony glanced down at his wrist, whichdidn’t contain a timekeeping device at all “-- tomorrow, same time?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his voice rough. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

[perfectdisastcr]

📱 - Lucille and Frank

Send 📱 for me to create a fake iphone conversation between our muses!

[cassidykilmcr]

@ajchangs

Joke’s on you, Dad. Someone filled your toy box with trash.

[perfectdisastcr]

“When is the last time you slept?” - For Frank from Lucille

“Not important.” He gruffed back with a short scoff as he was cleaning a firearm, carefully and with precision, something he had gotten used to after a while, knowing it helped with his own focus and concentration. Frank knew he needed to rationalize and think ahead before going in guns a-blazing, and this was his technique in slowing things down. “I got enough sleep the last I checked, if it’s that important to you.”

@prxtty-muses | lucille & frank

send me a sleepy sentence starter

[tacyvng]

🔎 & 🔋

🔎 - Random detail about them

taeyang’s american name and alias during the time he spent in new york was trevor choi - american-born second generation korean who had recently moved from oklahoma to study, staying with family friends in order to do so. trevor was on the football team, mostly so taeyang could use it as an excuse for all the bruises he got during training with the mafia. he also graduated high school at the top of his class.

🔋 - What makes them feel better after a long day?

if he finds the energy to, taeyang reads a lot. mostly he reads biographies or historical novels, but might ( if particularly bored ) pick up the occasional crime or thriller novel too.

[tacyvng]

🔋🏠

🔋 - What makes them feel better after a long day?

ideally spilling blood would - helps him relieve tension, however messed up that sounds. normally he’ll settle for going out to a club, get wasted, and find a beautiful someone to spend the night with, though sometimes he’ll simply stay home and drink until he passes out within the safety of his four walls.

🏠 - What does their living space look like?

taeyang’s penthouse is ridiculously clean and sterile, so neutral you wouldn’t even know someone lived there. he doesn’t own a lot of things, surprisingly enough, and likes to keep it tidy and neat. should he ever get blood stains or the likes on his furniture, he simply replaces it. the penthouse in itself is two floors and has a private elevator from his garage, and he has one of the best views in seoul. it’s surprisingly bright and open, white being the dominant color.

[tacyvng]

🖕🏽