#i have lotsa other patterns i love too but these are some of my top ones

[whilomm]

heres one i havent seen before, write in the tags what patterns you gravitate towards. for me i like starry/constellation patterns (NOT galaxy patterns tho), anything with bees, and specifically ditsy and calico florals, ESPECIALLY if theyre very leafs focused

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary392

10/18-19/24

friday - saturday

listened to cryptograms by deerhunter, today

at the recommendation of a friend, i really love this song in particular:

though the whole record was rather good, very spaced out, lotsa droney songs on it, more ambient than i expected, bradford cox is good at those textures though. today i also walked to the grocery store, the wind was so annoying, my head hurts because of it probably now, and being tired, but i'll be less hungry/have more to eat... lots of yogurt in the house now at least. some oatmeal too. then some junk. that's not all...bread too, peanut butter... i wanna kinda just fry the bread w/ butter how you do w/ grilled cheeses and make stuff from that... not stuff, just, if i need sugar, maybe find the cinnamon and make a cinnamon + sugar mix and put that on the bread when i finish cooking it. because we have no toaster anymore. because the bugs got in it.

not a lot else today, kind of tired honestly, which is good, it's 2:30 am on the dot, i ought to sleep #now. but i did some stuff today, oh and i need to collect the selfies i liked. that first. here:

i love the clip on bowtie a lot. it says "horseshoe" after a casino... i can't tell if it's the old horseshoe or the other one called that. #stupid. felt very cute in that outfit, i really really like it, the belt goes with the bowtie, in a cute way, as well. it also feels very suited to me, like a mess of stuff almost.

okay, stuff from today, i drew, i also did a little song but it's just a loop... kind of just messing about with weird ideas. but here's the first drawing:

that's marina!! and rher, and perkele in the top right. i liked the idea of having rher be behind her because obv he's important to the game but also, he's sort of central to prehevil which is where she is from, and he's also this manipulate force, or his traces are all that lingers, he's sort of in this unrecognizable state, or his powers are not what they ought to be, and she can recognize that. perhaps it would have been best to put characters behind her who are more clearly related? not sure. also, i think this is maybe the first piece of fanart i've ever created??? i don't know. very rarely do i do things like this. i'd like to do more related to fear and hunger...

here's the other drawing:

this was simply something i started doodling, and it turned to this. i like it, it is very disorienting to look at, i'm very happy w/ that gingham pattern back there. it maybe does more heavy lifting for the image than its actual content.

i'm thinking about posting the marina drawing tomorrow with tags or something, but i'm also not sure about what the point would be. whatever... i'll probably wake up and do it anyways.

now though, i should sleep, i do feel much better than i did yesterday, also,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[libsterslobsters]

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

 Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

 The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

 Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

 Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

 If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

 The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

 Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

 “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

 “Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

 Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

 It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

 “I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

 She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

 “Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

 “Oh.”

 Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

 “I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

 “I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

 “No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

 It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses  her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

 So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

 He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

 He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

 “Hey, Doll.”

 “I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

 “At what?”

 “The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

 “How-”

 “I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

 “Jesus.” 

 She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

 “So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

 “I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

 She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

 “Better than you are.”

 “What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

 “No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.”  Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

 “Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

 “That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

 “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

 “Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

 “See you then.”

 As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

 His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember. 

 By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

 It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

 “Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.  

 “Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

 She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

 True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

 “Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

 “Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

 “I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

 “I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

 They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

 Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

 “Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

 “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

 It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her.  He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

 “You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

 “Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

 “It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

 “I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

 “Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

 “I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

 “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

 “I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

 As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

 “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

 “Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

 “You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

 “Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

 “Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

 “Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

 “Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

 “Yes.”

 Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

 “May I touch you?” She nods.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

 “What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

 Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

 “Are you okay?” She nods.

 “Don’t stop.”

 The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

 “Do you still want to-”

 “If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

 “I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

 “Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

 He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

 “I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

 He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

 “Definitely.”

 There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

 “Can you wait a second? Please?”

 “Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

 “Fine. You can move now.”

 She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

 “I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

 The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

 That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

 “Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

 His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

 She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

 She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

 “Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

 “Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

 Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better. 

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like  her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

 “I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

 “Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

 “Nothing.” He shakes his head.

 “Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

 “Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

 “No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

 “I did.”

 She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

 “Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 “Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

 Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

 “Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

 “And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

 “Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

 “That’s not the same thing.”

 “How is it not the same thing?”

 “I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

 She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

 “Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

 “Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

 “Hey!”

 “Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

 “So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

 “But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

 A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

 “Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

 He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

 “I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

 “That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

 “Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

 Smirking, he asks her,

 “You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

 “Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.”  That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

 “You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

 “I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

 “I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

 “And what’s that?”  The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

 “Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

 “So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

 “Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

[s-horne]

What about stony quarantined with a rambunctious toddler? Or teenage Peter?

(I went for toddler!Peter and essentially just wrote about my own lockdown life... including at-home workouts and far far far too many snacks)

(also, no mention of the bad thing causing this lockdown)

***

“What in…” Tony trailed off as he surveyed the living room. It looked like every flat surface was covered with some sort of artwork. If random scribbles and brightly-coloured sponge patterns could be called artwork. “Having fun?”

“Loads of fun, Daddy! Look at this!” Peter held up a piece of printer paper covered with splotches that vaguely resembled hearts. “D’ya like it?”

All Tony could really see was the mess in his living room. There was paint on his table and a pink splodge on the floor, steadily growing larger as a stream of blue dripped down the table leg to meet it. He swallowed down his sigh to smile at his son. “I love it, baby. Going up on the fridge, for sure.”

Peter beamed and eagerly grabbed another painting. “And this one! Look at this one!”

“That one, too? Wow.” Tony smiled at Peter, heart sinking when he noticed yet another patch of paint that had somehow reached the skirting board. It was a bright yellow that seemed to glow in the sunlight. “My little artist.”

“Papa did this one,” Peter said, setting his painting down on the table. Steve swept in and picked it up when Peter put it on top of another painting, carefully moving it away from his flailing arms. “Like it?”

Tony laughed. “I love them all, baby. You and Pops are pretty talented, huh?”

“The best,” Peter agreed, nodding his head as he handed Steve his painting. When his hands were free, he grimaced down at the mess on them, holding them up to show his parents.

Steve took the painting with a smile and shook his head at the mess Peter had gotten into. As he met Tony’s gaze over Peter’s head, Steve reached for a damp towel. “Work done?”

“For now. Need to go back to it in an hour or so to finish off the last few bits. But I think it’s snacky-snack time, yeah?”

Peter’s face lit up and he yanked his hands away from the towel that Steve was rubbing over his arms. When he’d scrambled off his chair, Peter bounced over to Tony. “Snack! You want cookies?”

Tony poked Peter on the nose. “Thank you, kid. We can share a packet of cookies. Once we help Pops to clean up this room.”

Eyes wide, Peter turned to look around him. He grimaced again and leant his head against Tony’s knee. “Whoops. Lotsa mess.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tony said, lifting his eyebrows at Steve. “Lots of mess.”

*

“What’s going on here?”

Steve had walked in on some strange scenes over the years, but seeing his husband and son bunny-hopping around the room was one of the cutest.

“Bunny!” Peter cried, toppling over when he jumped a bit too enthusiastically.

Tony sighed as he stopped bouncing, breaths a little laboured as he shot Steve a tired look. “Yeah, Pops. We’re bunnies. Obviously.”

Snorting, Steve crossed the living room to deposit his bags of shopping on the kitchen table. He stepped back into the lounge to watch them, arms folded across his chest as he leant on the doorframe. “I can see that. I think. Why are you being bunnies?”

“It’s a good workout, isn’t it, Pete? I found it online.”

Peter grinned over at them for a moment, hands held up at either side of his forehead to make rabbit ears, before he turned his attention back to the television and concentrated on the next move. It looked to be some kind of jumping set to replicate frogs and it took every ounce of Steve’s self-control to not laugh at the unimpressed stare on Tony’s face.

“Come give me a hand with the groceries?”

Tony sighed in relief at the offer and ran a hand through Peter’s hair before he headed into the kitchen. As soon as he was through the door he fell into a chair. “Oh my – have you done that? It’s extreme. Never mind a workout; it’s a torture method.”

Steve chuckled, grabbing a glass to fill with water. “Here, drink this. Looks like being a bunny really took it out of you.”

Drinking the water eagerly, Tony glared at Steve over the rim of his glass. “You don’t get to mock until you’ve done that. You try doing Pikachu jumps followed by a plank and reverse lunges. And then go straight into Fireman Sam climbers.”

The longer Tony talked, the wider Steve’s smile grew. “Those are not real.”

Tony’s glare worsened. “Oh, believe me. They are.”

“Well, I think they sound like a lot of fun. Can I join?”

Tony threw a hand over his face and sank further into his chair. “You can take over. Forever.”

*

Tony rather thought he might live on the couch forever. It was comfortable. And the cushion over his head worked wonders for blocking out sounds. Tony could play innocent with his head buried in the proverbial sand.

“What happened?”

Someone poked at his shoulder and Tony groaned loudly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve said, but there was a sharp undertone to his voice. “What happened?”

“What?” Tony rolled over enough to peer up at Steve.

“I’m sorry, have you gone deaf? Am I the only one who can hear the gates of hell opening?”

“He’s in time out,” Tony said, wincing when a particularly loud cry reached them from Peter’s bedroom.

“How long has he been–,” he cut off with a grimace when Peter cried again. “What the hell did you say to him?”

“He’s a kid,” Tony snapped. Pushing himself to sit up, he rubbed at his forehead. He hated being the bad parent, the one to dish out the punishment. “They cry. He was naughty and now he’s being punished. This hasn’t had to happen in a while – he’s forgotten how much he hates it, is all.”

Steve was silent for a moment, frown lines deep in his forehead. There was a bang and a thud and Steve shook his head. “Oh, go and get him.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not. He needs to learn.”

His answer was a lifted eyebrow and Tony groaned when Peter wailed again. “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. But when he does the exact same thing tomorrow, I absolutely reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’.”

Steve rubbed his hand up and down Tony’s arm soothingly, as though it were Tony who was in tears. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss to Tony’s temple. “Times are hard enough at the moment. Go and get him.”

With a long sigh, Tony pushed himself up. He stood still for a moment to collect himself before he headed to Peter’s room. Sometimes, he really hated being the adult.

“Hey, kid.” Tony perched on the end of Peter’s bed, eyes on the boy-shaped lump beneath the blankets. Though Peter’s sobs increased in volume with his presence, Tony knew the difference between actual cries with real tears and ones made for attention. Peter’s had definitely turned into the latter. “Come on, Petey, don’t cry.”

There was a beat of silence before a tiny voice was heard. “Mean.”

“I’m not mean,” Tony said with a sigh, resting his hand on his son’s back. It showed how Peter was feeling that he didn’t throw Tony’s touch off. An apology would be easy enough to work from him and Tony would be able to orchestrate a somewhat-sensible conversation.

“Are.” Peter sniffed. “Big meany.”

“Come here, silly boy.” Tony peeled away the blankets to reveal his son and brushed his thumb over the boy’s wet cheek to dry his leftover tears. “Don’t cry, kiddo. I’m not a big meany. You know you aren’t supposed to hit people.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Peter said, heavy breaths punctuating his words. “Didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I think you did,” Tony said as he hooked his hands under Peter’s armpits and heaved him onto his lap, “but now you know what happens when you’re naughty. What do you say after you do it?”

“Said sorry,” Peter mumbled, words a little slurred with his exhaustion. He burrowed closer into Tony’s arms and Tony graciously pretended not to notice where he wiped his nose. “I did.”

“I know.” Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s hair and rubbed circles into his back. “Take a deep breath for me. You know you aren’t supposed to hit people. It’s not okay to do that, even if you’re really, really angry. It’s a difficult time at the moment, babe, so you need to be a bit more patient with us, okay? We can’t go outside so we have to be extra, extra nice to each other.”

“I’m nice. Miss. Danvers says I’m a good boy. I love you.”

“You are a good boy,” Tony chuckled, holding Peter closer and tickling his stomach softly. “Most of the time. And I love you, too.”

There was a long moment of quiet before Peter pulled his face away from Tony’s neck. “Snacky-snack?”

Tony gasped. “A snack? How can something as tiny as you possibly eat so much? You’re so small!” Tony stood up with Peter in his arms and lifted him high in the air. “Have you got hollow legs? Is that your secret?”

Steve laughed from across the doorway and stepped into Peter’s room. “I think he must have hollow legs. A little hollow boy.”

“No!” Peter squealed, right in Tony’s ear. “I’m not hollow!”

“You do eat a lot,” Tony said thoughtfully, dropping Peter down onto his hip. “You’ll eat us out of house and home, eventually.”

“Papa!” Peter reached out for Steve when Tony started to tickle him, desperately grabbing at the air as giggles fell from his lips, cheeks flushed with laughter instead of tears. “Tell him ‘m not hollow!”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Steve said, taking Peter with a laugh. “He’s not hollow. Now, what was this I heard about a snacky-snack?”

*

“No.”

Steve took a deep breath. “You can’t say no, babe. You have to do this.”

“Can’t.”

“You can.” Steve pushed the pencil back across the table to Peter. “And you can say more words than that, you silly billy. Don’t go shy on me now.”

“No.”

Peter’s glare was impressive. It was clear whose son he was, Steve mused. It caught him off guard quite often, but most of the time he loved when he noticed it. Not all times, though.

“Come on, kid. One more worksheet and we can get a snacky-snack with Daddy.”

“It’s hard.”

Sighing, Steve cursed his son’s stubborn streak. “It’s good that it’s hard, sweetheart. That’s what I’m here for – I can help you with it. And then when you go back to school, you can show your teachers how clever you are. Miss. Danvers will be so impressed that you’ve worked so hard over the little break.”

“‘m clever,” Peter said, rubbing at his eye. “Like Daddy.”

“I know you are, kid,” Steve said, reaching out to pull Peter’s hand away from his face. “You’re my clever boys. So let’s do these horrible math sheets and then we can go and show Daddy how smart you are!”

Peter sniffed. Loudly. “You gon’ help me?”

“Of course I am,” Steve said, voice soft. “That’s what Papas are for, aren’t they? Now, look at this first one.”

*

“Is it bedtime yet?”

Steve snorted, which Tony thought was rather rude. “It’s only eight. Pete’s only been down ten minutes.”

“He’s also been up since five. It’s been a long day.”

From where he was burrowed against Steve’s chest, Tony felt more than heard Steve’s chuckle.

“That’s cause he’s your son, sweetheart. Bed is for the weak, according to you pair.”

Tony huffed. “It is. Most of the time. These are extenuating circumstances and I just want to sleep until it’s over.”

“Well,” Steve said, hand running through Tony’s hair, “I was going to open a bar from my secret chocolate box and finish off that bottle of wine we opened last night, but if you’d rather go to bed then…”

Groaning, Tony stretched his legs out on the couch and rolled until he could see Steve’s face, peeking through one eye at him. “What sort of candy have you got?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Ooh,” Tony moaned, grinning up at his husband sleepily, “the magic words. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

With a loud laugh, Steve bent down and brushed a kiss to Tony’s temple. “Red wine and Hershey’s. The Special Dark kind.”

Tony groaned theatrically and lifted his arms to twist them around Steve’s neck, holding him close. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured against Steve’s lips, “you know how I like it.”

[ironmansuuucks]

Slowly Save Me

Dewey Finn x Reader

hey guys, this is an anon dewey finn x reader request i have - they reached out to me through messages and asked if i could do this specific request! I will need to put warnings on this one, got some heavier themes

I also won’t be putting my tag list on this just because of the subject matter!

And i also wanna start off by saying that my heart is so full for every single one of you guys. and my messages and inbox are always open if anyone needs to chat or vent or getting anything off their chest. I’m here, and I wanna help in anyway I can if you need it. Lotsa love xxx

WARNINGS: (TW) dealing with sexual abuse

words: 1800

Dewey Finn had been in your life for almost 4 months now. And how much brighter life got in those four months. He was always there when things got a little grey, bringing his light in to disperse the dark. He didn’t know it, and neither did you, but he was slowly saving you.

You guys spent so much time together, whether it be going to concerts, laying watching tv, or rocking out to your favourite music in the car. He was yours, and you were his.

Things had been going well, great even, but there was one thing that wasn’t going so well. The minute things with Dewey got a little intimate, you backed out. Finding excuses;

“uh its getting late, I better go…”

“oh, uh I’m on my period”.

“I’m really tired”.

Sure the cuddles were the best, and his kisses were soft and loving, but the minute his hands headed down, further and further, your body made you stop him. Dewey always took the rejection well, saying he doesn’t mind and he’s happy with cuddles, and he always apologises, but it wasn’t his fault. You felt like maybe he thought it was his fault. But it wasn’t.

You wished to become more intimate with your favourite rockstar, but your body would not let you. It felt as if you were back in that situation and it just. Told. You. No.

But tonight you decided you were gonna tell it yes. You wanted things to progress with Dewey, and you were fed up of being held back. You wanted him to be able to touch you and not be able to flinch, and you wanted to be able to feel confident and unafraid. You were going to try.

And that’s all that can ever be asked of yourself, when you feel ready enough.

So you invited Dewey over, you guys ate pizza and had a few drinks, and watched a movie.

“you sure know the way to my heart my sweets” he would chime, winking at you as he relished in his favourite dish, and his favourite girl.

Cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bottle of wine was comforting, and homely. The room was lit only by the light of the tv, and the warmth of a few candles you had. The darkness was a comforting. You felt happy. Content. And most of all, you felt safe.

Legs entangled in one another as he was pressed up to your back on the couch, his head on your shoulder, fingers tracing little patterns on your hip. No time like the present, right?

You nudged yourself back a little, pressing yourself into him. Dewey caught the drift. He began to leave little kisses on your shoulder, up to your neck. You tried to occupy your mind with the tv, watching closely at the characters interacting with one another. Distracting your mind.

You moved your head back, allowing him further access to your neck. This was fine. This was good. You were good.

Breathing out loudly, admittedly a little shakily, you turned around, laying on your back. You could do this. Reaching up, your hands found his hair as you pulled him into a kiss, your lips moving together, slow and soft. You could feel the hunger in Dewey’s movements. It irked you a little.

But he didn’t know anything. He had no idea what was going on in your head.

You could feel his hand begin to slowly wander further down. You tried to tell your brain to shut up, but the more his hand crept down your head expanded with pain. As if it was swollen; about to burst.

You scrunched up your eyes, trying to push away thoughts and maintain control of your mind and body.

But sometimes you just need to listen to your body.

“no Dewey stop”. You pulled away from the kiss. You whole body frozen. Eyes squeezed shut. Trying your damnest not to cry.

Dewey also froze. He was worried he had done something wrong. Was he pushing you too much? He felt worried. His head was also spinning a little as he noticed how your eyes were squeezed shut, and how frozen your body was.

“y/n.. I’m- I’m sorry, are you okay?”. He was internally panicking.

You shook your head, brining your hands to your face, wanting to hide, turn your back on everything, and the world. You could only focus on Dewey’s hand, still on the waistband of your gym leggings, weighing heavily on your body.

He could hear your muffled sobs through your hands, his heart breaking. He moved his hand, the one that was burning your skin, sitting up a little.

“wh-what’s wrong? Was it me?..” he sounded a worried. This wasn’t what you wanted.

You shook your head. Trying to regain control. You wiped your stinging eyes before you turned around and buried yourself into him. your hands clutching at his t-shirt as your eyes left little wet marks on the fabric.

Dewey’s arms instantly wrapped around you protectively. One hand holding you to him, around your waist, as the other stroked your hair.

His body was comforting. It made you feel safe, like no one could harm you. It was calming. The feeling of his t shirt, his scent, you could hear his breathing and feel his breath on the top of your head. He was helping to ground you.

“I’m, I’m so sorry Dew..” you manage between sobs. You felt a little embarrassed, and ashamed.

Dewey, yeah he wasn’t the smartest guy in the world, but his intuition and heart was all he ever needed. He could guess what was going on with you. Yeah, he didn’t know exactly what, but he could tell by the way your body froze, and the way you sobbed, that someone had hurt you.

“shh, shh it’s okay. You’re okay..” he tried to soothe you, kissing the top of your head a few times as his hand continued to comb through your hair, as the other lightly rubbed your back.

It made him angry to see you like this. He would tackle the world to take away the pain you felt. He wanted to help.

“is there anything I can do to help? Right now?”

You shook your head, tears still rolling down your face. “just hold me… please”.

He pulled you tighter to him. Hearing your muffled cries made him upset, and he thought about how he promised, right here, he would always be here for you, when ever you needed him, as a tear escaped his eye.

Dewey held you until you were settled a little. Until your breathing eventually slowed to a natural pace, and until your eyes felt like they had no more tears left to cry.

The silence and darkness now felt haunting. The tv was down so low that the voices were muffled, and hollow.

Then, it was broke by your pained voice “I’m sorry Dewey.. It’s not your fault”. You looked up at him. Your eyes full of hurt, and pain. His heart felt heavy when he looked down at you. Your sore, red eyes telling all he needed to know. Your flushed cheeks burning red, coated in your tears.

“do you wanna talk about it? Or anything?” Dewey was hesitant. He didn’t want to overstep, or make you feel pressured to discuss. But he wanted to help. How badly he wanted to help take this away.

“I- I don’t know if I can…” your voice hitched.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured to-“ he felt bad, before you cut him off.

“no, its not that.. its just.. everyone avoids, the subject.. my family.. they.. they don’t.. they avoid it..” the tears had found their way back to your eyes, filling up instantly.

His heart broke. He was able to piece together what happened. And it made him so angry. He pulled you close to him, kissing your forehead.

His warmth was welcoming. It soothed your soul, and you felt so safe. So comfortable, so accepted by him.

“well, you know I’m here.. and I have ears to listen when ever you need them.. and I have arms here.. and they can hold you when ever you need them also.. and I have this nose, and it loves to do this” he brought his face to yours and nuzzled his nose with yours as he squeezed you lightly, eliciting a little giggle from you, allowing him to see that beautiful smile of yours for a second.

“thank you Dew.. I just… I struggle with certain.. touches..?” your cheeks burned a little as you looked into his eyes, then down, clenching his t shirt a little more, twisting it in your hands.

“I’m sorry y/n..-“ he sounded upset. His voice cracking a little.  

Your eyes darted back up to him.

“please don’t be sorry Dew… you didn’t know.. how were you to know? And… and you’ve brought so much light into my life.. and.. you have no idea how thankful I am that you are in my life..” you half smiled up at your caring boy through sniffles. You felt comfortable with Dewey. You knew he really did care about you. And he wasn’t shying away from the subject unlike others. Maybe you could allow yourself to open up to him…

It would be difficult.. but worth it.

His eyes found yours in the dark, shifting from one of your eyes to the next, searching. His had came to your face, his thumb wiping away the stray tear.

“I’m here. I’m here whenever you need me. If you need me to talk, to listen, to stay silent.. to play guitar, to take you to McDonald’s for chicken nuggets.. Whenever, and wherever you need me.. I’ll be with you as soon as. You, are not alone. You are amazing, and so incredibly strong. You are loved, and you are safe. And I love you more than I can say.”

The air was so still. It felt as though it was only you and Dewey in the entire world. As if the rest had frozen. His words spoke from his heart, to yours.

  And he kept his word. He always did. And slowly, you got better.

  Dewey Finn has been in your life now for 2 and a half years, and how much brighter life has gotten in those 2 and a half years. Things were almost never grey. The darkness had been dispersed, and he may not know it, but he had slowly saved you.

[simptasia]

ultimate ship meme ask <3 for science trio!

ah, thank you! i’m so sorry it took me this long to respond, i didn’t mean for 2 bloody weeks to pass. i kept procrastinating or being too tired

daniel + charlotte + miles

General:

Rate the Ship Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OT3 to Rule all other OT3s

How long will they last? 

eternity and then some

How quickly did/will they fall in love?

daniel @ charlotte, i’m thinking like a week or so. kinda hit him like a bullet

charlotte @ daniel, two or three weeks

daniel @ miles, somewhere from a couple of months to a year

charlotte @ miles, in living timeline didn’t happen, in limboverse, i’ll give her 3 months. and she loved him as a friend already anyways. i imagine it’s her who brings miles into the fold, allowing the sci trio to be fully realised

miles @ daniel and charlotte, oh Fuck Knows. it happens, but [shrugs]. and i like the idea that miles didn’t realise he was in love with daniel and charlotte (and sawyer and juliet) until waaay after their time together. like he falls in love with richard and then The Power Of Hindsight kinda fucks him over

(and for anybody who gets snippy saying that “a couple of weeks is too quick to fall in love!” or some shit: my bf fell in love with me in 2 weeks, and for me it took a month. so nyeh. also hurley/libby, sayid/shannon and charlie/claire)

How was their first kiss?

all of these take place in limboverse

daniel/charlotte: so i imagine this happens like right after they Remember, so emotions are running high and char is like “i’m gonna do something i should have done when we were alive” and just sorta grabs dan’s face and <3

and dan is stunned for a second and then sinks into it. you know that lovely trope of somebody being kissed and their eyes are open and then they practically melt closed from the kissy feelings. and they’re soulmates and this has been a long time coming and i feel cliche but uh, fireworks

daniel/miles: so the three of them have started Their Thing and like, they’re in a sexual relationship now but because char started this, dan is unsure about like, do him and miles do... stuff... together too? is that a thing? they were all touching each other during The Event. plus dan isn’t exactly sure how he feels about miles, but he’s been slowly getting more attracted to him over time. and also dan’s never been with a guy before. so yeah dan is overthinking things and meanwhile, miles is like “if he’s up for it, i’m down” but keeping his distance because like, it’s dan and he doesn’t know if dan is into him

that was a long build up to say, eventually the dan/miles side of the triangle does get figured out and after a moment of awkwardness dan kisses miles, tentative at first and then That Spark happens and they both get into it. at one moment miles pulls back just a bit and dan deliriously like... chases his mouth. because it turns out kissing miles is awesome. and miles notes dan’s a good kisser too, and dan isn’t even offended at the surprised in miles’ tone. 

so in short, dan and miles’ first kiss went on for longer than miles expected because dan got tingly soup brain

also in both of dan’s first kisses with these two he kept his hands to himself outta 1. not thinking clearly because Mouth Things and 2. awkwardness. both char and miles had to grab dan’s hands and place them upon themselves, to remind him, you have these, please use them (there’s a line i give char: “i think you’d find i have many lovely things below my shoulders, dan”). from then on, dan is Characteristically Handsy. annnnyways!

charlotte/miles: it was very shortly after they met actually. pierre introduced them at the museum and there was attraction yes, but also this spark which they both wordlessly acknowledge. when pierre has left (just to get coffee hjjdhasa), they talk for a bit and then casually agree to go somewhere private. a coat check room. they got hit with familiarity and both of them being the type of people who have casual sex that information translated into “i’m gonna fuck this person now”

so basically their first kiss was messy, frantic, impulsive, clothes quickly being taken off, etc etc. thats how their friends with benefits thing started, even before they were friends, really. this was years ago and they became besties

Wedding:

in this set-up, it’d be dan and char getting married

Who proposed?

dan, technically but it wasn’t a surprise. marriage was something both of them discussed for a while before and char was the one who brought it up

(and here is where she jokes “you know what my mum would say about me marrying an american” and daniel gets an Awful Feeling from that)

Who is the best man/men?

well, miles, of course. richard is also one of the groomsman <3

Who is the braid’s maid(s)?

Why Weren’t You Allowed To Have Lady Friends

and besides that, most of the available women in lost have Moved On

annnnd i just remembered char has two sisters. chelsea and chloe

Who did the most planning?

char. it’s not that dan doesn’t care, it’s just she just has more preferences. patterns and colours and things like that. but they all pitch in at least a little

tho miles is the least help. at one point char holds up two swatches for bridesmaids dresses and asks which one he likes more (she’ll decide herself, she just wants Interaction, for her nerves) and miles doesn’t look up from his magazine and says “the left one”. char is annoyed and he says “whichever one is closest to purple”. they’re each a shade of green and blue

Who stressed the most?

oh, char. she never thought she’d get married so she’s never really emotionally prepared herself for it. or for planning a event like this. she isn’t paitent with people she doesn’t already like so dealing with wedding business people has been a task. and just. marriage isn’t stressful, weddings are. which is why dan is gonna be a good boy and absolutely help. and miles is also helping...

char: and how exactly have you been helping??

miles: [serious tone] i’m the plucky comic relief

char: [death glare]

miles: ...i’ll go pick up the flowers

- later -

daniel: heeey miles, you know how you and charlotte like to playfully snipe at each other? ...you can’t do that right now, she’s kinda stressed

miles: [wheeling in dozens of lillies] yeah, i figured that

char, from the other room: WHY ARE CAKES SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE

How fancy was the ceremony?

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

i’ll give this a 7 outta 10 on the “ooh aah” scale. oh yeah they could absolutely afford a huge fuck off wedding but they didn’t want one. also another reason they didn’t have a Huge Wedding is that dan, char and miles legit don’t know enough people i always picture their wedding happens in like a park. a nice one. and there’s a real prevalant flower motif happening here. arch covered in flowers, petals on the ground, lotsa white lillies about. there’s a real English Garden / cottage aesthetic vibe to this. char’s got a flower in her hair and i just decided her wedding dress has like cloth white flowers on it, not all over it. so like, the whole thing is cute and elegant  and flowery and more expensive than it looks. the main colours being used are white, light blue and lilac

oh oh, the cake is chocolate on the inside! and it’s white (duh) but with lilac flower trim around each layer. char never planned for a wedding before but once she adjusted to the idea she was like “this is gonna be really really pretty”

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding?

eloise. no explanation needed

Sex:

Who is on top?

well, everybody who can be, has been. char has defo given dan and miles the strap. the least toppage going on is dan topping miles. very rarely happens

Who is the one to instigate things?

well, char is the Most instigate-y and dan is the least instigate-y, with miles in the middle. and damn if that doesn’t sum up their dynamic

How healthy is their sex life?

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

gonna give them all, overall, a reasonable eight. it happens a Lot, but it’s not a crazy amount. (except when dan and char are trying for a baby, then dan is... dan is... lovingly tenderized)

there’s diff variables (heh) at play here, but for the most part theres quite a bit of sex going all around. so yeah, their neighbours don’t like them very much, because char is Really Really Loud and easily satisfied

How kinky are they?

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

that 8 is via the power of char and miles’ kinky tastes

dan is decidedly more vanilla but willing to try new things. and he’s got some latent kinks/fetishes hiding in him that these two bring out of him

i’ve gone into this many times but basically char is into being dominating, miles loves pain and as far as dan’s brain is concerned, Charlotte Is A Fetish

there’s more going on than that, but i’m being succint

How long do they normally last?

miles doesn’t last notably long, or notably short. but he seems like a real stayer in comparison to dan and charlotte. char comes quickly and repeatedly

dan, oh dan, he’s not. he’s not lasting long. this is not bad thing. he was worried about it at first but char is a-okay with this. she wuvs her boy. and besides, he has pretty good recovery. so second round if the first round was like a bit “oh”

dan is sensitive (and autistic!), sex is a Lot for him. anyways miles has defo joked about these two cumming at the drop of a hate. another reason the neighbours are annoyed, Please Go To Sleep Charlotte (nyet)

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms?

nobody here is unsatisified

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it

on this scale, i’m giving dan/char a 2 to 4, char/miles a 5 to 10 and dan/miles a 3 to 6. and all together oh... anything could happen

the general “rule” is Take It Easy On Dan, He’s Delicate

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do?

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory

so much. so much cuddle snuggle uwuwuwuwu no no get back here miles you cannot escape, come back here and be loved

dan is a major cuddler, very tactile, char is pretty affectionate. miles used to be “meh” on affection but he’s warm to it these three cuddling in bed lives rent free in my head 24/7

Children:

How many children will they have naturally?

i’ve given dan and char 4 kids (three girls and a boy). penny, ada, marie and isaac. i’ve made charts about this

hypothetically, like in sims, i’ve given char and miles a daughter but i’m not commited to that idea, like i don’t have that in my Internal Canon

but he’s their papa too, emotionally <3

How many children will they adopt?

none, unless you count rats

Who gets stuck with the most diapers?

dan’s job requires the least Work, so he’s at home more often, so yeah

Who is the stricter parent?

char, but she’s not strict strict, this is just in comparison to daniel “but i can’t say mean things to my babies” faraday and miles “wanna learn how to shoplift?” straume. she’s not a Mean Nagging Mum stereotype tho, i won’t allow it

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school?

dan and char are Equally “you can’t be doing stuff like this, it’s not safe” whilst miles is lowkey encouraging it. but after a stern look he has to admit riding a scooter on the school roof is kinda fucked up. like miles is... miles but he doesn’t want his babies like actually hurt, he’s still a good dad

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)?

dan dan the photographic memory man

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?

char, because i think that’d be really funny. and i want all of them to go to at least one meeting together, because they heard some bitch refer to their daughter marie as “that weird child” and that she warned her children to keep away from dan, char and miles kids. and also she refered to dan, char and miles as “deviants” cuz she feels kids shouldn’t have three parents

soooo char is going to publicly cut her down. verbally and viciously. dan and miles are also angery but they’re there to make sure char doesn’t actually physically beat this woman. and also this final caveat:

miles: [eating a sad looking muffin] and your muffins suck too

Who cried the most at graduation?

char but dan and miles are crying too

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law?

MILES IS A COP!!! and it’s never felt so good until the moment ada got busted for drinking at a party when she was only 17. oh miles isn’t that abusing your authority? “yeah but every cop does that, i may as well do it for my kid”

yeah, that crime is  the worst thing i could think of for this, i don’t think these people’s kids would do like actual bad crimes

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking?

you know, i tend to picture miles cooking the most. my typical default for imagining char and miles chatting is that they’re in the kitchen, she’s holding tea and he’s making something on the stove. typically mac & cheese. or bacon

but really i think they all cook a decent amount

Who is the most picky in their food choice?

dan because he’s autistic and has some medical requirements, like my esoteric headcanon that he cannot digest meat at all

Who does the grocery shopping?

char and miles are more used to it, whilst i imagine dan has barely set foot in a grocery store in his life. but upon, like, being a grown up, he starts going more with char and miles and he likes it, for the most part. the lights are a bitch, tho

i think dan does it the least, miles the most, and char and miles go together more often than not. oh, and when char is out of pads and she forgot to stock up, miles is the designated Get Me Pads And Painkillers You Bastard man

tho that trope always confused me, as somebody who has at least 5 packages of pads in my pad drawer at all times. are there really period having people who don’t stock up ahead of time and have to ask their significant other?

but i digress

How often do they bake desserts?

not notably often, but i’ve defo imagined miles making Special Brownies

which daniel proceeded to eat all of in a fit of I’m Suddenly Very Hungry

what’s that puddle over there? oh it’s just dan

but anyways thinking on this, i can see these three making a cake together. and it goes a little wonky because their kitchen is small and Too Many Cooks. but a flat chocolate cake is a cake nonetheless. monch

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater?

dan: salad, the other option is No Good, so my boy is a vegetarian

char: i’ve made her more a meat lover than a veggie lover (tis her love of a proper English Breakfast) but not overally so

miles: defo likes meat (and savoury things in general) over salad. he’s not one of those guys whose a dickhead about it tho. veggies are just alright to him

tho i can see miles teasing dan about his “rabbit food diet” (which isn’t even apt because rabbits aren’t in the habit of mainlining noodles and pasta)

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner?

aaahh this feels like something dan would do, he wants to be ~womantic~

Who is more likely to suggest going out?

char, the extroverted outdoorsy one

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking?

dan because he got distracted by something. like he was cooking something in the oven and then some Musical Thoughts overtake him and he’s gotta write it down and wait 30 minutes have past OH GOD THE PIE BEEP BEEP BEEP

Chores:

Who cleans the room?

The Room. the Singular Room

anyways they all clean, it’s not very interesting to think about

Who is really against chores?

none of them. miles will half-heartedly complain sometimes but he grew up used to helping out around the house

Who cleans up after the pets?

dan and char clean up after their rats and cat because they are responsible pet owners. and char will clean miles’ wounds because jean-luc is a bastard cat

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug?

what kind of idiot... No!

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over?

i can’t see this, like any of them getting stressed about that

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning?

miles’ dollar now

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths?

dan takes longer showers, char takes longer baths

Who takes the dog out for a walk?

no dog, only kitty. kitties don’t go for walks

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays?

ohh i imagine char decks the place out for christmas. she loves christmas because good family memories. and also she has knitted christmas jumpers for her boys (and cat). christmas and halloween is the only major holiday that they got ham for. and by they, i mean char and miles

dan is just happy to be here

char: you know miles, it’s january and that little bat is still hanging above the fireplace

miles: if you wanna take him down, you can

char: ...no, i just wanted to adknowledge him

dan: he’s part of the family

What are their goals for the relationship?

uh, love, sex and babies. duh

Who is most likely to sleep till noon?

miles. coffee keeps him on his work schedule

Who plays the most pranks?

well, miles, obviously. i can’t think of any because i don’t really go for pranks but nothing elaborate, simple stuff. does that “orders a black coffee at macdonalds when your kids are in the backseat” count as a prank. miles would do that, pause for enough time for the kids to be like :O and then ask for their orders

there! done! wowee, bless any y’all who take the time to read All Of That

[might-be-judas]

Yo if you want us to make our minesonas punk you've gotta teach us what punk IS I have a feeling Google Images isn't the most reliable source..

alright i can do that i think!! strap in lads this might be a long one

Judas's guide to looking punk (or metal)!!!!!

Hats

They dont wear a lot of hats, that would get in the way of their epic hair. Maybe a headband/bandana, if you want

Metal and biker fashion are pretty similar so if it wont be an obstruction of your epic hair you could add a leather biker's cap

Hair

Hair!!!!!!

Punks often have the SICKEST hair!!! maybe spiked or a mohawk or a devilock. Dont be afraid that you're making it too spiky or long just look it up idk HOW they do that but they do

and colorful too!! either a fun bright color or dyed black

Metalhead hair more often either very long (for headbanging with of course!!!) or super short, probably not dyed.

Face

Lotsa piercings!!! eyeliner too! esp for punks but works for metalheads too

If you specifically want a black metal look, look up corpsepaint

Neck

chokers!! ESPECIALLY if they have spikes!! cool and punk

mormal necklaces good too esp for metal

bandanas, collars, and also ties work

might wear a chain if you want as well

Shirt

t-shirts, tank tops, button-ups or shirts with ripped sleeves

probably black and has a band logo on it or some general demonic imagery

plain white shirt is ok tho as well

Jacket

Any leather or denim jacket/vest, hoodie or flannel will do

but a big part of punk and metal is the BATTLE JACKET!!!!

Leather or denim jacket or vest

Meant to be covered in all sorts of patches and pins and buttons! Often one really big one on the back

Patches/pins/buttons may be of favorite bands, be political messages(more common to punk) and some pride flags if you'd like!

Also studs. pyramid studs and spikes can go anywhere on the jacket but are common on collars and shoulders. usually on leather jackets only but i dont see why you cant put some on a denim one too

Waist

belt. multiple belt. studded belt. many belt. belt on leg. belt on chest. belt.

Chains are fun too

Pants

Tight jeans, may be ripped and/or covered with patches

Leather pants, cargo pants, shorts, 'bondage pants' are all good

add some leggings if u want!

Shoes

Punks and metalheads love boots!!!!!

hhrgreggg combat boots

May or may not have laces, a zipper, buckles, whatever you want. or all of the above

Maybe add a spiked/studded boot strap or a chain

heels or giant platforms too if you want!!

but really, some sneakers are just fine too

Other accessories

You know you gotta have them bracelets

LOTS of bracelets if youd like

or maybe a big bracelet that covers the entire forearm

with spikes and studs!!!!

also studded armbands

and fingerless gloves!! maybe with a skeletal pattern or spikes on the knuckles?

rings also allowed

punks like safety pins. maybe their patches are attached with pins, or they used pins to hold together ripped clothes, or just stuck anywhere for the fun of it but safety pins.

Other random notes

black is the main color, of course, maybe some blue denim

but you might add an accent color to break up all the neutral colors

red very common accent, silver/white kindof a given too with all the studs

punks especially can get very colorful tho if you want! metal stays pretty neutral

Some examples real quick:

Punk can be pretty casual like on the left or really out there like on the right.

Punk and metal fashion is not exclusive to skinny white people go out and vibe!!!

What we really consider as punk was mostly a thing of the 80s so if you want some inspo you'll wanna look for punk 80s specifically

yeah thats my guide!!! i know i tryna be punk vibe all the time but i really am just some dork so this may not all be completely right and im not the punk police either so you dont have to follow this ok just tryna help a little anyway bye go punk yalls sonas now!!!!!!!!!

[sawyersauce-arts]

Not art but I gotta put this somewhere because I’m excited-

So I’m doing a bit of a revamp on my Sides!! Again!!

I know, I’ve already done one revamp, but as I understand myself more I realize that my aspects aren’t quite right! So here we go!

A quick precursor: All of them use she/they pronouns!

Anxiety: 

Color: Red (aggression, ferocity, blood, all that good stuff)

Aggressive, screams a lot, jumpy and twitchy

Constantly stimming

Is really trying to help, but isn’t sure how to do it right. Ends up upsetting the others a l o t.

Frustrated Screeching™

“It’s too loud, it’s too loud!! Make it all shut up!! NOW!!”

Appearance: ripped black jeans, janky side-shave, hoodie with a dark denim vest over it (always covers arms). Backwards army-print cap, as they are always ready to fight (me, specifically). No makeup, but a lot of hair flop. Smaller, thick dark glasses with shaded lenses. Ear piercings, septum piercing.

Indecisive as hell

A perpetual pessimist, but they insist they’re a realist.

Writes in all caps

Passion/Creativity:

Color: Purple (a mix of the passionate, aggressive red that shows in their drive to create and the calming, subdued blue that you can see in their mannerisms)

A bit of a two-in-one

Encompasses my passion for writing, drawing, poetry, sewing, singing, theatre, etc. etc. etc. They love it all

Surprisingly adorable, soft, and eager to please

(While bouncing excitedly) “Do you want to see what I made?”

Also comes up with most of the ideas

The source of my creative talent and drive to learn creative things (Brain helps out, but we’ll get to that later)

Lacks motivation sometimes-often due to Anxiety

Anxiety causes a lot of burnouts, can unintentionally bully Creativity into their room for days at a time in which they won’t come out to do anything

Appearance: Baggy-ish cuffed blue jeans with colorful patches stitched all over them, B I G floofy hair with lots of clips and bows and fun things. Biggest, brightest glasses of them all. “Tattoos” that are really just stuff they draw all over themself, most notably the stars on their face and the sheet music wrapping around their arm. Too-big white t-shirt with the neckline cut out to make it off-the-shoulder, with a lined paper pattern on it (there are actually written notes and doodles all over it, that’s what they does when they’re caught without paper). Lotsa bracelets. Extra as fuck and doesn’t care if any of it goes together. Semi-competent makeup that they absolutely sleep in for like six days in a row

Also constantly stimming, but has bigger stims than Anxiety

Writes in bad cursive

Heart:

Color: Yellow (bright like sunshine, but can still be sour like a lemon and sting like a sunburn)

Has a lot of love to give

Responsible for being my ego and confidence (how much I love myself, works with Pretend to fake it when I need to)

Adores being around people, loves their friends so very very much, and can be very clingy and intense

Stutters because they’re always tripping over themself to get their words out

Changes their mind constantly

Often has literal screaming matches with Anxiety. They’ll yell and fight until one of them wins (usually over who hates me currently, whether or not I should give a gift or say hello to someone, important social decisions, stuff like that)

Not always happy. Hell, they feel like they almost never are, especially with how they and Anxiety get along. Tries not to let things bubble to the surface by hiding in Pretend’s room when stuff gets Too Much™ 

Says “I love you!” way too often

Can be pushy, but more in the beggy way and not in the aggressive way that Anxiety goes for

Not exactly childish, but definitely naive in a way that really gets on Anxiety’s nerves

Appearance: Hair messy and in their eyes constantly. Wears glasses with rose-colored lenses. Poorly tied bowtie and a cuffed-sleeve button-down shirt that’s half tucked into a pair of white skinny jeans. Floral print doc martens with pink laces, and absolutely has headbands with animal ears on them

Writes in big block letters

Brain:

Color: Green (energy! bouncing around! also green like a check mark, since they adore being able to check things off of lists!)

Knows things, wants to learn more things, tries to be practical and fails

“GENDER IS A SCAM FUCK THE RULES!” (Creativity supports this so much. You can find them chanting this together in the dead of night.)

Is surprisingly heavily influenced by Creativity, has a lot of trouble keeping track of knowledge that they aren’t interested in

Math? Who’s She????? Science??????? What???????

Likes making schedules, doesn’t follow them

“Oh that was due yesterday??? Fuck.”

The others really shouldn’t leave them in charge of organizing since they have no sense of time or space

Literally cannot fucking sit still (the living embodiment of the word “scatterbrain”)

KEEPS MIXING UP THE DAMN MEMORY FILES WHAT THE HELL WE NEEDED THOSE-

Responsible for almost every single google search rabbit hole. Sometimes Creativity helps. They don’t discuss it.

Legit like,,,, best friends with Creativity? They get along really well, even if they argue occasionally. 

Creativity helps with math sometimes (”Oooh, Brain, what if we did it this way? That would be so much easier!”). It’s wholesome.

Appearance: Coffee in one hand, a colorful pen in the other at all times. Hair frizzy and pulled back in a ponytail. Cropped sweater with one sleeve pulled up, denim shorts, mismatched socks of different heights. Always has their glasses on top of their head and forgets where they are. Thier aesthetic is essentially “Disaster college student.”

Handwriting is a mostly unintelligible chicken scratch

Pretend:

Color: Silver (silver tongue)

Fake it ‘till you make it, basically

Fantastic at acting (give Creativity pointers, it’s cute), actually a pretty good liar. 

Anxiety claims to be able to see through their bullshit, but mostly just makes wild pessimistic claims

Heart is the one that can actually see through their bullshit

“It’s fine, it’ll be okay, it’s not that bad,” is basically their mantra, whether for better or for worse.

Super. Damn. Wholesome. Literally cannot physically bring themself to be mean. They’re there purely for my comfort and making the others feel better

Can actually make Anxiety chill, to some extent? None of the others really can, but Pretend is pretty good at it.

Appearance: Bone-straight hair, a stark contrast to all the other’s curly hair. Shiny masquerade mask, red lipstick. A literal silver tongue - they need it to help the others. Simple sheer tulle skirt with a short pair of tight black shorts underneath (kinda dancer-like). Sleeveless crop top with a similar tulle sleeve-thing grazing her shoulders. Ballet flats. Ethereal, phantom of the opera crossed with ghost of christmas past vibes

That’s all of them! I will adore you forever if you read all the way through this, and if you didn’t, that’s cool too! (I can’t read through long things that well either OOF)

I WILL BE DRAWING ALL OF THEM VERY SOON! I mostly just replaced Insecurity with Pretend and revamped all of their personalities- learning about myself is fun!