#canva tips and tricks

[reallycreative]

How to edit freepik template in canva | Canva tutorial for Freepik lovers

[mobileandapps]

Canva Free Everything You Need to Know About Free Version of Canva

If you’ve ever felt intimidated by graphic design or thought you needed a degree in Photoshop to create stunning visuals, let me introduce you to Canva. Whether you’re a small business owner, a student, a social media enthusiast, or just someone who loves creating, Canva Free is a game-changer. In this article, we’ll dive into everything you need to know about Canva Free—its features,…

[sysig]

Is this small and pixely enough that it’s not a spoiler

[getfuckedblr]

here’s my guide to making typesets! I use Word to make my typesets, Canva for designs, and Adobe to insert the majority of my designs.

this is a ton of info and I tried to make it as readable as possible, but plz let me know if u need any clarification!

Word: always use the app, the online program doesn't have all of the options needed

paper size: US Letter Borderless

then i flip it landscape, do custom borders, and select book fold. I do 1 inch on top and bottom, .75 in inside, and .5 in outside. i leave the gutter option alone and leave it set to 0. You can choose how large you want your signatures to be (sheets in booklet option on the margins page): I normally do 40 page signatures, but if it's a smaller text you'll want to go smaller for stability. after that, you should have a half page to start your typeset!

Inserting your fic:

the next thing you’ll do is insert your fic; on ao3 click entire story, CTRL A to select all, CTRL C to copy it all. Paste it into your document. word automatically detects the headings, and you should be able to see all your chapters on the left side bar (if you can’t see it, click the page numbers on the bottom left to open the tab).

Formatting:

you can do the next few steps in any order, but we’re going to fix the formatting now. you’ll want to CTRL A everything, pick a font and a font size. I normally use georgia and size 10, going smaller or larger depending on the file size.

To have an indent on every line: CTRL A your work to select all, right click the “normal” style, on the home tab. go to the bottom left, open the drop-down menu, and select “paragraph”. next to special, hit first line. i like to do .3, you can do whatever you want. i then like to make sure the space after is set to 0, the line spacing to single, and then hit save. it should automatically adjust your lines to start at whatever indent you picked.

To fix the spacing: go into the layout tab, and go to spacing. There'll be a before and after option: write in 0, then click enter for both of them. Word is a little bit bitchy so you have to force it do things sometimes. after this you can choose if you want single spacing, or 1.5, or whatever you want.

*sometimes, the way the fic was formatted when posted to ao3 means that even after setting the line spacing to zero, there will still be a space in between each line. this is where you have to troubleshoot. you can either go line by line to delete the excess space (yes, for real. and yes, it's just as awful as it sounds) or, sometimes, not every-time but sometimes, you can highlight the chapter text, go into the home tab on top, click the A with the purple eraser to erase all formatting, and then do all the beginning steps again, and it will get rid of the extra space.*

Now that your format is mostly fixed, delete the archive of our own beta, and anything else you don't want. I normally delete everything up to the title of the work, and leave that for creating my copyright page. Remember to do the same for the end of the work!

Page Breaks and Section Breaks:

the next part is the most crucial. it's how we format both the chapters, but also how we format the headings and footer. this was the part that took me the longest to figure out: it's the page breaks and section breaks. page breaks mark the place where one page ends, and another begins. section breaks will create a new section in your document, so you can break the beginning few pages from the rest of your textblock. This will allow you to insert page numbers that start on page one, instead of at the first page of the document.

I like to go the end of the description, and then click on the first chapter. then I'll add a section break. you can find this in the layout tab, click breaks, and then click section break. so now our section 2 starts with chapter one. After this, add a blank page after the description and before your new section, and then click on the first chapter. (adding a blank page allows for smoother formatting later with headers and footers)

I then go to each chapter, delete the authors notes at the start and end of each chapter, and add a page break at the start of each chapter. i like to use the heading tab on the left to click each chapter, so I know I'm actually starting the new page right where I need to, and other formatting won't delete the page break.

when I create a compilation fic, where I have muitlple fics in one typeset, I use section breaks at the starts of each new fic. this will allow the page numbers to continue, but I can then edit each sectio to change the fic title and the authors name. if you're really fancy, you can do this for each chapter title as well, you would just hve to use a section break for each chapter instead of page break. *Remember to click link to previous to turn it off, so you are only editing that section, and not all the other sections. this can be found in the heading and footer tab on the top, which will automatically open when you click on the heading or footer.*

Adding page numbers, authors name, text name:

To add a page number, I click the footer, which automatically opens the header/footer tab on top. Then, I click page numbers, add page numbers. I turn on different odd and even pages, which is also found in the header/footer tab. you'll have to insert page numbers on both an even and odd age to get them to show up once you click that option. Page one should be an odd page, page two should be an even page. I like to put the page numbers on the outside of the page. Then you'll click format page numbers, click "start at" instead of "continue from previous section", and write in 1. now your typeset starts at 1 on chapter one instead of the start of your document! you'll need to go back and delete the numbers that showed up on the first section, but remember to deselect link to previous before you do that! or you'll end up deleting your page numbers again.

to add text on page numbers:

click into the header/footer again. double click directly on the page number, then start typing. You ca highlight the whole thing to change the font, font seize, etc. I normally do the same size as my text, and I'll either do georgia font or garamond font. I google "copy paste line for text" to get that line dividing the page number from whatever text I have next to it.

to add graphics on an entire work:

you can go into the header or footer, go to the insert tab, and insert a picture. Doing it in the header or footer will ensure it's on every single page that shares that header or footer. I have done this in the past, and find it's cute, but it's also tricky because it needs to be small enough to fit inside the header or footer, and won't really be able to interact with the text because it's different on each page, while the graphic will stay in the same position regardless.

Blank Pages:

you want blank pages at the start and end of your textblock: this is what you'll be glueing your end papers to. even more, you'll want to ensure your total page number is both divisible by 4 (each page of paper will have four pages of your text on it, two to each side) and fits into your signature count. If you're working with a 40 page signature, and you have 420 pages, that's fine. You'll end up having the last signature only be 5 regular pages instead of 10, which is plenty enough to sew. you really just want to try and avoid only having one of two pages in that last signature, as that won't be very strong in holding up your end page, or be very stable in sewing on to your book block.

to make sure they're blank, with no page numbers, you'll want to insert a section break on the last page of text. Deselect link to previous, delete the page numbers and you should be all good!

Printing/Saving:

I'm on a mac. I don't know how you would do this on anything but a mac. let that be a warning lmao. but I will CTRL A everything, ensure it's US Letter Borderless, and then hit print. if you don't tell the document it's the right size, it'll be funky when you go to print because of the margins. to insert images, i click save as pdf. it'll save it in the correct order to print for your signatures, and then I upload it into adobe to edit further. that'll have to be a different post bc this is entirely too long already.

If you want to print directly from here, ensure it's printing the right size, flip on short edge, double sided. and you're all done!

[capercrafts]

First commision, any feedback/tips would be appreciated!

[ozzyfromthecafeteria]

trying to search for tips for doing art sucks because some of them are just. oh do this style! oh don’t do this style! thog don’t caare about stylization i need to learn Shapes and Colors!!

[skullmercy]

finally being able to update my pc after (unknown) days of it being kept on… orgasmic.

[genvibezstore]

Limitless Notion Template Bundle [35 Templates+]

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[maximumpoppy]

Inside look on how I create a kids book - Save as PDF, upload to KDP and...

[dealbeorht-brrighton-2003]

TIPS AND TRICKS TO GET VINYL TO STICK TO CANVAS #cricut #vinyl

[gilburt-ellam-1999]

Easy Tips and Tricks to Get Vinyl to Stick to Canvas

[reallycreative]

canva Create 2025 new features Add multiple size designs in 1 file #ca...

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Beginners Guide to Descriptive Sentences

Hi writers.

I’m Rin T, and in this post I’m excited to share with you a detailed guide on how to craft vivid descriptions and descriptive sentences for your writing. I’ve long believed that descriptive writing is the magic that turns ordinary text into an immersive experience. When done well, every sentence acts like a brushstroke that paints a scene in the reader’s mind.

──────────────────────────── Why Descriptive Writing Matters ────────────────────────────

I have seen how powerful descriptions can engage readers and establish a strong connection with the narrative. Descriptive writing is not simply about decorating your work; it is about building an atmosphere that transports your reader to a world. your world.

When you write descriptions, remember:

You are setting the tone.

You are building a world.

You are evoking emotions.

You are inviting your readers to experience your story with all their senses.

──────────────────────────── Step-by-Step: Crafting Vivid Descriptions ────────────────────────────

Below are my personal tips and tricks to help you build detailed and captivating descriptions:

Begin With the Senses

Description does not solely depend on what the eyes can see. Consider sound, smell, taste, and touch. For instance, instead of writing “The witch’s hut was eerie,” try elaborating: “The witch’s hut exuded an eerie aura. The creaking timber and distant echoes of whispering winds mingled with the pungent aroma of burnt sage and mysterious herbs.” In this way, you help the reader not only see the scene but also feel it.

Choose Precise and Evocative Language

Precision in language is vital. Replace generic adjectives with specific details to boost clarity and imagery. Rather than “The forest was dark,” consider: “The forest was a labyrinth of shadowed boughs and muted undergrowth, where the light barely touched the spindly branches, and every step unveiled whispers of ancient spells.” Specific details create tangible images that stay with readers.

Show, Don’t Just Tell

A common mistake is to “tell” the reader how to feel, rather than “showing” it through context and detail. Instead of writing “It was a spooky night,” immerse your reader: “Under a pallid crescent moon, the night unfurled like a canvas of foreboding whispers; broken branches and rustling leaves narrated the secrets of a long-forgotten curse.” By showing the elements, you invite the reader to experience the fear and mystery firsthand. (You don't need to be as dramatic as my examples, but this is simply for inspiration)

Use Figurative Language Thoughtfully

Metaphors, similes, and other figures of speech lend an artistic flair to your descriptions. When writing about a scene in a magical world, you might say: “Her eyes shone like twin beacons of moonlit silver, cutting through the gloom as if to part the veil of night itself.” Such comparisons evoke emotions and deepen the reader’s connection with the scene. However, be cautious not to overdo it; a little figurative language can go a long way.

Strike a Balance Between Details and Pacing

While elaborate descriptions are alluring, too many details can weigh down your narrative. Consider introducing the broader scene first and then focusing on key elements that define the mood. For instance, start with an overview: “The village lay nestled between ancient stone arches and mist-covered hills.” Then, zoom into details: “A solitary, ivy-clad tower sent spiraling tendrils of mist into the twilight, as if guarding secrets of a long-lost incantation.” This technique creates a rhythm, drawing readers in gradually.

──────────────────────────── Practical Exercises to Enhance Your Descriptive Writing ────────────────────────────

To help you practice these techniques, try the following exercises:

Sensory Detail Drill: Select a familiar scene from your fantasy world (for example, a witch’s secluded garden). Write a short paragraph focusing on each of the five senses. What do you taste as you bite into a magical fruit? What sounds resonate in the quiet of the enchanted night? This drill helps you to avoid flat descriptions and encourages you to integrate sensory experiences.

Revision and Refinement: Take a simple sentence like “The night was cold,” and transform it using the advice above. Rework it into something like, “The night was a canvas of shimmering frost and darkness, where every breath of the wind carried a hint of winter’s sorrow.” Compare the two, and notice how minor adjustments can dramatically heighten the mood.

Peer Review Sessions: Sharing your work can offer invaluable insights. Exchange your descriptions with fellow writers and ask for focused feedback, Does the description evoke the intended emotion? Does it deliver a clear image? Use these sessions as opportunities to improve and refine your craft.

──────────────────────────── Common Pitfalls and How to Avoid Them ───────────────────────────���

Through my years of writing, I've learned that even the most passionate writers can stumble. Here are some pitfalls to watch out for:

Overloading With Adjectives: While it’s tempting to create elaborate descriptions, too many adjectives and adverbs can distract rather than enhance. Aim for clarity and purpose in every word. Instead of “a very dark, spooky, frightening forest filled with creepy sounds,” try “a forest shrouded in ominous silence, where every rustle hinted at unseen mysteries.”

Falling Into Clichés: Familiar images can sometimes render your work predictable. Try to avoid worn phrases. Instead of “as dark as night,” imagine “as impenetrable as the void that separates worlds.” Unique expressions capture attention and create lasting impressions.

Neglecting the Flow: Descriptions are vital, but the narrative must continue to drive forward. Check that your detailed passages serve to enhance the storyline rather than bog it down. Ask yourself: Does this description bring the reader closer to the action, or does it detract from the momentum of the narrative?

──────────────────────────── Advanced Techniques for the Aspiring Writer ────────────────────────────

Once you’re comfortable with the basics, consider these advanced methods to elevate your descriptions into artful prose:

Integrate Descriptions Seamlessly: Instead of isolating your descriptions, weave them into dialogue and action. For example, as a witch brews her potion, you might describe the bubbling cauldron and swirling mists as part of her incantation, not just as a standalone scene. “As she whispered the ancient words, the cauldron responded, its surface rippling like a dark mirror reflecting centuries of secrets.”

Reflect Character Perspectives: Let your characters’ emotions color the scene. If a character fears a looming threat, their perception will add a layer of tension to the environment. “I entered the dim corridor with trepidation, my heart pounding as the flickering torchlight revealed spectral figures dancing along the walls.” This technique makes the description both situational and personal.

Use Rhythm: The cadence of your sentences can mirror the pace of your narrative. In high-tension moments, short, abrupt sentences heighten the urgency. Conversely, in serene scenes, longer, flowing sentences can create a tranquil atmosphere. Experiment with sentence structure until you find a balance that suits both your style and the mood you wish to convey.

──────────────────────────── Final Thoughts and Encouragement ────────────────────────────

your narrative is your unique creation. you too will find your distinctive voice. I encourage you to keep experimenting with different techniques until your descriptions feel both natural and mesmerizing. Write freely, revise diligently, and most importantly, let your creative spirit shine through every line.

Thank you for joining me. I hope these tips can help you.

[hees-mine]

More Loser virgin heeseung thoughts

NSFW MDNI hard thought/Drabble

Loser virgin hee: who nearly loses his fucking mind cause he must be dreaming someone must be playing tricks on him. There’s no way that you’re actually taking video requests from your viewers, but no matter how many times he refreshes your page, the options still lingers, a blue button waiting to be clicked on with the price tag reading an amount he doesn’t even pay attention to before he clicks pay.

Loser virgin hee: who sends back to back requests for you to do a blowjob pov, and missionary pov with a bigger dildo so he can really get immersed and imagine it’s him and of course, a doggystyle pov. He loves seeing your pretty little hole getting stuffed from behind.

Loser virgin hee: who, when he receives said requested content, will thank you over and over again even though he knows you’ll never see it, but still he’s grateful for these works of art, a perfect canvas for him to paint in his pearly white.

Loser virgin hee: will cherish the fuck out of those videos, religiously busting a nut to each one every single day. He thinks the amount he’s cum in the last week is probably not healthy, but he can’t stop as he watches you fuck yourself with a new dildo, one much closer to his size.

Loser virgin hee: who can’t stop requesting videos of you, and he doesn’t know what’s dryer, his balls, or his bank account, but that doesn’t matter when he gets a notification that you’re live. He tuned in immediately, ready for a night of endless pleasure. He’s cum so many times in just a few minutes that the overstimulation makes him feel like crying, but he just can’t stop himself when it comes to you.

Loser virgin hee: who at three am is so sleepy but so horny that he pulls back his blankets and his sweats along with boxers to snap a dick pick and send it to you with the caption. “I’m so hard for you, wish I could feel your sweet wet pussy gushing and squeezing around my thick cock, bet it’d feel so much better than that stupid dildo” In his tired brain, he hits the send button, not thinking much of it until he sees a response like a real response, not the automated ones he’s used to. “Hmm, I bet it would 👅💦”

Loser virgin hee: who shoots up from his laying position. Suddenly, he’s not tired anymore, and his shaky hands send a text back. “I’d do you so good, beautiful. You’re so perfect. You deserve everything.” he feels his heart race, waiting for your response. He’s ridiculously nervous yet horny at the same time, which is a first for him, and he slowly tugs on his thick length till it’s fully erected, a bead of precum decorating his tip.

Loser virgin hee: that almost busts his load just from seeing your three dots typing. Your response makes his eyes roll in his head at just the thought. “What would you do to me?” “Take my time with you. Kiss every inch of your perfect body, prep your sweet little hole with my fingers make you cum on my face and my tongue before giving you my cock. I’d feed it in real slowly just to watch your pretty face while my thick cock fills you up, stroke every inch of your walls so deep till your begging for more, till you clamp and squeeze around me till you cum from how good I fuck you.”

Loser virgin hee: who would probably lose it if he knew you were rubbing your thighs together as you read his text. You didn’t usually text with your clients, but since he was your highest paying one, you made an exception. You’re not disappointed, especially when he sends you a video moaning your name as he strokes his cock. It’s thick, long, and veiny, and the drop of precum he spreads on his shaft makes your mouth water. When he cums, shaking while whimpering your name, you feel like you should be the one paying for personal videos of him cause seeing his cum dripping down his throbbing shaft was definitely a sight to see.

Loser virgin hee: who feels as if time has stopped when you tell him. “That was so hot you deserve a reward. How about we video call?” The speed to which he replies is lightning fast, and the next thing you know, he’s setting up a time to call you. This is by far the best night of his life, and he sleeps soundly, but this time, it’s not from the back-to-back orgasms.

Link to Patreon!

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks: Celestial Heavens

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Life couldn’t seem any better — your life long crush, and the football star of your fantasies is now your boyfriend, and your relationship is running smoothly. It’s a dream come true. But when Bucky admits he’s ready to take things to the next level, you’re anxious to make sure losing his virginity is an experience he won’t forget — for all the right reasons.

Which means, a first date is in order.

A night beneath the stars brings the two of you closer together, where emotions run high and confessions sit on the tips of tongues.

Warnings: College AU, Smut, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, fluff, fluff and more fluff, pet names, swearing, teasing, first dates, Bucky is a smooth little shit, cute astronomy puns.

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 🥰 here is the highly requested part two for New Tricks 🥹 the support I have received for part one has been so overwhelming and I want to thank all of you who expressed your love 😭

Beta and divider graphic credits go to @rookthorne - I can’t thank you enough for spending hours of your time helping me bring this AU to life, you’re incredible — this one is for you ❤️

I hope this follow on lives up to your expectations and does our favourite college babies justice. Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Happy reading my lovelies 💜

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

‼️ Small disclaimer ‼️- while I have done some research, I in no way consider myself to be an astronomy expert. If any of the facts or information I have included are wrong, I apologise profusely.

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, you hum a tune to yourself while waiting for the door to open. 

The impulse to knock again after only a moment of waiting is overwhelming and your impatience begins to wane. You grip the canvas strap of your tote bag which is full to the brim with notepads and books, when the door suddenly swings open to admit you.

“Hey–! Oh, it’s you.” Disappointment sours your tone upon seeing Steve in the doorway. You push past his broad frame and enter his apartment to look for the true reason you are there, paying no mind to the scoff that falls from his lips. 

 

“Yes, hello sis. So good to see you, too!” Steve stays by the door, unmoving and starts conversing with himself. “How am I? I’m great, thanks for asking—how about you? Come on in, we’ll have a drink.” 

You shake your head, huffing a laugh while you scold him playfully, “Oh hush, Stevie, don’t be so butthurt.” From down the hallway, you see a light casting shadows along the floor — the source coming from a slither of an open door. A flicker of red hair disappears around the door frame. “Huh,” you muse, a smirk dancing on your lips. “You should know by now I’m not here for you. Where is he?” 

Steve sighs. “He’s–”

“Buttercup!” Bucky’s shout from his bedroom interrupts Steve, and it snaps your focus towards the direction of his voice. “Baby!”

The heavy thud of his rapid footsteps echoes down the hallway towards the living room, where you currently stand waiting for him, and you can’t help but giggle with amusement at his excitement. 

He appears in a blur, skidding into the room with grace akin to a drunken swan — a pink blush dusts over his cheekbones and the boyish charm of his eager smile makes your stomach flutter. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, and he covertly attempts to catch his breath from the sudden burst of excitement. 

“–There,” Steve finishes, lamely. 

The bright, pretty smile on Bucky’s lips and how his eyes grow wide when he sees you makes you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. “Hi, Buttercup,” he breathes, and the pure innocence of his greeting melts your heart.

You can’t help but copy his smile as you make your way towards him, where he positively vibrates in place. “Hi to you too, handsome.” The cotton of his shirt is soft under your palms, and you meet his lips with a small kiss. The brush of his plush lips against yours makes you sigh against his mouth, and his hands sneak around your waist to grip your hips, keeping you in place against his chest.  

He wasn’t going to let you sneak away with just the one kiss — he never does. 

A more insistent press from his lips makes you part your own, and he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.  

“Guys,” Steve whines, “Get a fucking room — I don’t want to see that shit!” 

The effort to pull away from Bucky’s lips is beyond tolerable, but you refuse to turn and look at Steve as you say, “Sorry, bro,” with little to no remorse for his fragile disposition as the older brother. Bucky does not tear his focus from you, rather, his lips quirk in a playful smirk at your snark. 

Unbeknownst to you and behind your back, your brother’s mouth upturns in a smile; the two most important people in his life finally together and so sickeningly in love. 

As of a few weeks ago, Bucky and you started officially dating after a shy, whispered question during the late Sunday morning of your first weekend together. 

Bucky’s small, timid question of what the two of you were once he dragged you back to bed — after the clean-up from a spilled gift basket in his haste — set the butterflies in your stomach aflame. 

Of course, there was no other answer but to rid the doubt in his mind and reassure him. 

From then on, the two of you lived in your own bubble of bliss. You, over the moon to finally be with your long-time crush; Bucky, unbelieving of the reality that he has and is deserving of the girl of his dreams, who loves and nurtures all aspects of him. 

The only way to describe you both during this honeymoon phase is inseparable — spending every single spare moment through college life with one another. 

But no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, and spend more time staring at his handsome features, your art finals were also crucial business — as was keeping Bucky’s GPA intact. The scholarship he revered depended on it. 

Steve’s voice brings you from the torrent of memories and back to the present where Bucky held you fast against his chest still. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You reach around Bucky’s neck and twirl your fingers through his hair before whispering loud enough for only him to hear, “Ready to go, Puppy?”

The red flush of his cheeks and the part of his lips has you trying to hide the satisfied smirk that threatens to pull at the corner of your mouth — his new nickname borne from a quick-witted quip you thought nothing of, truly is one of your greatest accomplishments to date. 

You remember it perfectly.

Bucky leaned against the headboard, his lips in a full pout, and arms crossed tightly across his chest. The bare expanse of skin was shadowed by the low light of your bedside lamp. “No,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows with his sudden, foul mood. 

“Bucky— come on, we have to eat something,” you reiterated for the umpteenth time. 

“No.” The dramatics of his brooding had you struggling to rein your laughter in. 

“We’ve been cuddling for three hours,” you insisted, deciding to reason with the stubborn idiot. “I literally heard your stomach rumble an hour ago. You need food.” 

Bucky sulked. “No. Only need you.” 

“Oh my god,” you giggled, “you look like a kicked puppy, Bucky.” 

There was a deep, impatient huff, and then he stared at you, an expression of longing covering his features. It only exaggerated his puppy eyes. 

A bright idea came to you then, the comparison may just be what you needed to make the boy move… “Here, boy,” you called, patting your thigh with one hand and snapping your fingers with the other. “Come on, who’s a good boy? Huh? You want a treat, baby? Do you wanna be a good pup for me?” 

Bucky’s reaction was more than you could have ever hoped for — his entire body became deathly still for a moment, then his arms slackened to fall onto the bed and a deep flush of blotchy red trailed up from his chest and up to his neck. 

You would have been worried about overstepping if you hadn’t spotted the dazed, glassy look in his eyes, darkening the cerulean to an Aegean blue.  

Bucky liked it. 

The praise, humiliation, spliced with a pinch of demand — the entirely accidental recipe for how to break him. 

Ever since then, Bucky’s new nickname causes the most visceral reaction he so desperately tries to hide, with very little success. The quiet hitch of his breath has you trying to keep your composure, and if only to tease him a little more, you wink at him. 

In the present, he chokes on a sharp intake of breath and coughs. 

There’s a quiet, short bout of laughter behind you from Steve, but you focus on Bucky while he catches his breath, still beet red. “You ready to go, Buck?” you repeat, squeezing the back of his neck.  

The rapid semblance of composure did nothing to hide the effect your words have. He blows out a breath, and stutters a determinedly stoic, “Y–yeah— almost, just gotta— um— run and g–get my jacket.” 

You hum and bump your nose against his before stepping back to let him breathe, “Okay, Buck. I’ll be waiting by the door.” 

Bucky wastes no time in spinning around before taking off like a shot down the hallway towards his bedroom. As he disappears, you chuckle to yourself and wonder how embarrassed he will be when he realises that he is already wearing a hoodie.  

“You’re wicked.” Steve stands with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. But by the small smirk upturning his lips, you know he’s just as entertained with Bucky’s fumbling than you are. “He’s so whipped.”

Before you have a chance to retort, a honeyed, feminine voice calls from your brother’s room. “Steve, stop hounding your sister and leave her be! You promised me a foot rub.” 

“Oh?” It's your turn to cock your eyebrow, and you watch, all too righteously, while his cheeks turn bright red. “Remind me who’s the whipped one again, hm?” 

Steve flounders in place, his mouth opening and closing while he searches for the words to no doubt put you back in your place, but another voice beats him to it by calling out to you from the hallway. “Flower, you have no idea! Last week I got him to–” 

“Okay! That’s enough of that,” Steve interrupts, quick to shut down the reveal before it knew the light of day. He stalks down the hallway towards his bedroom, and as he goes, he yells over his shoulder at you, “Enjoy your time with Buck, sis, please don’t break him, we’ve got training tomorrow. Love ya — see you next week!” 

The door slams shut just as Bucky appears around the corner, clad in both a hoodie and a jacket, and his eyes dart everywhere around the room but at you. The realisation must have hit him, and he was far too stubborn to come back empty handed. 

Decidedly, you don’t question him on it. Instead, you hold your hand out to him and say, “Come on, handsome, we’ve got some studying to do.” 

And just like that, Bucky’s face lights up and he bounces towards you to interlace his fingers with yours. He follows you with ease while you lead him out his apartment to the elevator, the doors opening for you instantly for the both of you to step in. 

The floor numbers descend on the screen, and a companionable, comfortable silence floats in the air. Until you turn to the side when you feel the stare of your boyfriend. 

Bucky’s blue eyes shine brightly while he looks you up and down, taking you in once more, and your heart flutters against your chest with the soft smile pulling at his lips. “You look beautiful today,” he whispers, a line of worship that makes your stomach flip. While holding your gaze, he lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of it. 

If the heart eyes from the cartoons were real, then your boyfriend takes the gold. 

You barely fight the urge to squeal out loud with the show of heartfelt adoration. “Thank you, baby.” 

The elevator doors open with a swoosh as you reach the ground floor. Squeezing his hand gently, you begin to lead him out the lift and towards the exit. “Let’s get going — we gotta make sure you ace this test.”

In the beginning, it took a while to process that you were Bucky’s girlfriend — an ease unlike any other helped you both fit together so seamlessly, as though you had been dating for far longer. 

That same ease also makes itself known in your shared sexual compatibility.

Ever since that fateful movie night back in Steve and Bucky’s apartment, the two of you went no further than making out at every opportunity that presents itself (or that you make) and grinding against each other until you both came — though it didn’t stop you both from doing it a lot. 

Sex for the first time is a big deal. Bucky’s admission of still being a virgin, and his comfort being your priority, you take every old and new venture into pleasure at his pace. But your hesitance is met with an unprecedented hunger that leaves you breathless with need, every single time. 

Bucky’s eagerness to feel you against him, the heat of your bodies intermingling as best they can between the layers of clothing always made him feral with want, and each time he ventures closer, further than he did before in his exploration of your body, it grows with such passion it scorches your skin.   

You were going to wait on his signal no matter how long it took. But a few signs were telling you, however, that Bucky wants it. 

Recently, your boyfriend has been a little more desperate, more so than usual. 

His whines and whimpers turn from breathy and high, to deep, animalistic sounds that send shivers up your spine. Bucky was already putty in the palm of your hands at the best of times, and to witness him let go of his inhibitions was addicting — you wanted more of him, and you have the inclination that he longs for the same. 

And although the both of you swore to one another that you would head to the campus library to focus on your studies, somewhere along the way, your feet took you straight back to your dorm room and into your bedroom. 

Your giggles and sighs echo off the walls, along with the rustling sound of your bed covers. “That tickles!” 

Bucky, the clever, sly boy he is, figured out far too quickly where the sensitive spots on your neck are. “‘M sorry, baby,” he whispers against your neck, his breath hot and fanning over the delicate skin. His sweet, tender kisses start to turn heated — more passionate and intense as his hands begin to wander over your body. 

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes against the curve of your jaw. “You smell so good, Buttercup — could jus’ eat you up.” 

You softly moan in reply. The sudden hunger in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine and settle heavily between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls, and he rolls his body over yours, forcing you to lay flat against the mattress. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he trails sloppy kisses from the curve of your mouth and down the slope of your neck. “Atta girl, good girl.”

The feel of his lips against your skin makes your eyes flutter closed, and it’s entirely impossible to withhold your upper body rising with the arch of your back, pushing your covered breast up against his chest.

You can’t help but think of how confident Bucky has grown in such little time — his boldness only adding fuel to the fire.

Bucky firmly grips your waist in his hands with a thready moan, and he slowly, torturously inches them up towards the bottom of your tits. You feel the brush from the tips of his thumbs through the fabric of your bra and shirt, the pressure of them indescribable. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he tests a roll of his hips into you. The high moan that tumbles from your lips jolts him, and he thrusts forward with a small, disjointed groan — the heavenly pleasure of grinding his cock against your clothed cunt almost too much for him to bear. “Feel so good, Bee — holy fuck.”

You grin up at him, squeezing your knees against his hips. Another thing Bucky grew confident in: being vocal in the bedroom. His litany of curses and range of vocabulary comes to life if he loses himself enough; bold in his actions, he takes charge more and it leaves you a wreck every single damn time.  

“Gotta keep going, baby,” he pants into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “don’t make me stop, please don’t make me stop.” The desperation in his voice is as addicting as the pleasure he so freely gives, and you moan loudly to the ceiling. His pure, feral need to take what he wants only sends you closer to the edge. “Fuck–”

Your whines and pleas for more mix with his deep grunts on every grind into you. “Bucky, don't you dare stop,” you gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and wrinkling his shirt in your grip. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.” 

“Not gonna stop,” he promises as he pants against your neck. “Not gonna stop till you fuckin’ cum for me, Buttercup.”

You grab onto the back of his thighs, forcing him to rock against you faster. Harder. 

Bucky’s whimpers only serve to drive you crazier and with wild abandon, you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. “So close, baby. Almost there— oh, fuck,” you cry. 

Bucky bites the skin of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly and moan. 

“Fuck, doll,” he groans, and he swallows your whines with frenzied need, his tongue laving over yours. The harsh pants for air when he pulls back to speak send you into a whimpering mess. “Drivin’ me crazy, Bee. Need you so bad, you got no idea—” 

“Keep going, please, keep going!”

“—Gotta have you,” he grunts. “Need these fuckin’ clothes off — wanna see your perfect body.”

It’s hopeless to keep your moans at bay. His ferocity has you on the edge and your thighs shake as you balance on the precipice. “Gonna— gonna cum.” You tangle your fingers into his damp hair and pull. “Bucky, baby—”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky coos. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry—” 

“Please, please, please!” you frantically beg. The knot in your stomach is wound tight; the fast rhythm of Bucky’s thrusts pushing it to the point of shattering. 

With a slight shift in angle of Bucky’s hips, the tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit through your leggings, and you scream from the sheer ecstasy that flows through your veins with your climax. “Cumming! I’m cumming— oh my god, I’m cumming!”

Bucky’s hips falter, and he chokes out a raspy moan, “Fuck!” 

The shattering of built-up tension rushes over the two of you; harsh moans fall from Bucky’s parted lips while he rides out his high, his hips continuing to grind against you. 

It all falls on deaf ears while fire still runs through your veins.  

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, finally slowing down his breathing and stopping the faltering, aborted thrusts of his hips. The growing wet patch that stains the crotch of his sweatpants no longer makes his cheeks flush with shame. 

Quiet whimpers and gasps for breath leave you unable to speak, to utter just how wrecked you feel beneath him. 

“Holy fuck,” Bucky repeats, and he gently rests his lower half against yours while carefully keeping his upper body propped up on his elbows. “That was–” Hot breaths fan over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. “So fuckin’ good.”

You laugh breathily and squeeze his shoulders, the press of your fingertips meeting hard, strong muscle.

It’s a peaceful moment; a serene bliss you only find in the comfort of Bucky’s arms. It feels right to be cocooned in his warmth — your boyfriend always making you feel safe. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky says softly, placing a quick kiss to your nose, then a lingering, passionate one on your lips. “I can’t– fuck, can’t believe you’re mine.” 

You smile brightly up at him, lost for words, and with a tired huff, he rolls off of your body to lay beside you. Your chests rise and fall in a soothing sense of synchronisation. 

The slow drain of adrenaline from your body erupts in a sudden fit of giggles.  

Bucky blinks, then smiles hesitantly, a confused quirk of his lips. “What’s so funny, Buttercup?” 

“I just–” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop your laughter so you’re able to respond to him. “Sorry– it’s just a little crazy to me how you’re not as shy as you used to be.” A teasing smirk pulls at your lips. “You’ve gone a little rogue, Pup.” 

Heat creeps up Bucky’s neck and covers his cheeks with an adorable red flush. Even if your man has gained a lot of confidence, he will never be able to rid the bashful puppy inside of him. 

“I should be worried,” you tease. “You’re giving me a run for my money.” 

“Right, that’s it.” Bucky suddenly shoots up and climbs over you, pinning you in place with his hips and thighs. One of his hands snakes up your arm, then the other, and you shiver with the ghost of sensation, only, he smirks. “I’ve got you now.” 

Your wrists are suddenly together, unable to move from the top of the bed and in the grip of his hand. “Hey–!”

There’s a wicked, playful glint in his darkening eyes as he looks down at you. “You’ll learn, Bee, that I’m not a man to be teased.” The hand he has free begins to flit over your ticklish spots. 

“Bucky,” You warn as you nervously chuckle, trying to edge away from his touch. “Don’t you even think about it.”  

That doesn’t deter him though. He runs the tips of his fingers, a feather light touch, underneath your tank top. “Oh, no– no, no,” he tuts. “I have the upper hand now, baby.”

“No!” you loudly squeal, trying to kick your feet to dislodge the weight of Bucky’s athletic build over your lower half, but it’s of no use. 

You burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter — tears start streaming down your cheeks while your boyfriend watches in cruel amusement above you. “Where did all that fighting talk from earlier go, huh, Buttercup? Where did it go?” 

“Okay, okay! I– I lose, you w–win!” 

With a satisfied sigh, Bucky yields and lets go of your wrists to bring one hand down to your waist, closely following with the other as he starts to gently stroke the exposed skin of your middle. 

“You’re too easy, baby,” he chuckles, fondness bursting over his features. 

“Yeah, well,” you sigh in defeat. “You played dirty. Best believe I’ll get you back, big guy.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you both while you breathe heavily and close your eyes against the exhaustion overtaking your limbs. The rush of endorphins and all manner of happiness still flowing through your veins.  

Until, “Did I go too far?” Bucky asks suddenly, his voice timid, small. 

The tone of his question indicates a sense of duality — he’s not just asking only about the tickle fight. 

You open your eyes to the view of his long hair hiding the two of you from the world; your room obscured by the curtain of it. The bright, shining blue of his irises steals your breath with the depth of emotion swimming in them — keeping you firmly within the bubble the two of you created in your passion.  

“Oh, Bucky,” you whisper soothingly, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek — the soft strands of his hair against your fingertips sends an unprompted shiver down your spine. You move your hand from his cheek so your index finger could press against his nose, then up to smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Not at all, handsome.” An effortless smile pulls at your lips, one that he hesitantly returns. “It was perfect, I promise.” 

Though he doesn’t seem to settle. Something is on his mind, that was obvious — his tells are easy to decipher from the time you spent studying his expressions. When he is unsure, hesitant, the tip of his tongue runs over his bottom lip; when anxious, his shoulders hunch inwards in an attempt to make himself smaller. 

Bucky swallows thickly. 

You frown. “Are you okay, Puppy?” 

The soft lilt of your voice soothes his worries, and he takes a deep breath before responding with a wavering, “I think I’m ready.” 

The implication of such a comment makes your eyes widen slightly — while the possibilities are endless for what he could possibly be referring to, you’re almost certain you understand exactly what he means. 

As though he suddenly realises how it could be interpreted, he barely whispers, “I w–wanna have— have sex.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice despite his courage to confess. 

You blink once, twice, hesitating only for a second before opening your mouth to reply, to question him, but Bucky rushes to add, “With you.”  

It’s your turn to swallow — despite the harsh dryness coating your throat. In the past, you had partners, summer flings. Few stayed, and even fewer were worth the trials and effort of a proper relationship. And through those couplings, sex became something that didn’t faze you. 

With Bucky it feels different. 

The connection is far more meaningful to you than any casual hookup from a club, and to know he is in a space where he is comfortable enough to place such vulnerability in the palms of your hands… It is not lost on you, the importance of his choice. 

You look deep into his eyes while you seek his full consent — if only just to quell the doubt that swells within yourself. “You’re sure about this?” 

“One hundred percent,” Bucky confidently assures. “I want all of you, Buttercup. And I wanna give you all of me.” 

Fuck, you curse to yourself. You didn’t deserve him. 

You nod, then say, “Alright, baby.” Bucky grins at you, and this time you rush to add, “Let me do this properly though, okay? I want to take you out; treat you like you deserve.” 

A sudden sheepishness clouds his expression, and his eyes dart downwards to your lips while he licks his own. “Mhm,” he mumbles quietly, “Y–You can do that if— if you like.” 

You take both of his cheeks in your hands, and you tilt his head up to place a soft, loving kiss to his swollen lips. When he makes direct eye contact with you, you whisper against his mouth, “You deserve the world, Pup — nothing less. So yes, I would love to.” 

The night of the long anticipated date night arrived faster than you realise — after classes, study sessions, and accompanying Nat to the boy’s football training to cheer them on, time flew by in a blur.

As much as Bucky begged you for a scrap of a hint or clue for what you planned, you kept it under tight wraps; a lock and key that will not budge for even the sweetest of pleas.  

It hasn’t been an easy task to stay strong against his wide, puppy eyes — on more than one occasion, you almost let slip. But with severe determination, you successfully keep it a secret. 

And by god are you proud of yourself for such an achievement. 

You know for sure that Bucky is going to enjoy himself tonight — every last stop pulled, and with the help from your brother for the venue, you feel confident in the plan.

That is, until you smooth over the invisible wrinkles of your dress for the umpteenth time while you make your way down the hallway towards their apartment, your stomach roiling with anxiety of the unknown. Will Bucky truly like it? What if he hates it–?

A hand with perfectly manicured, blood red nails grabs yours, and pulls your fidgeting fingers away from the seam of stitching to the pockets of your dress. “Babe, please stop panicking.” Natasha’s soothing tone brings you back down to earth. “You look incredible — Bucky isn’t going to know what hit him.”

After hearing of your plans from your brother, she was quick to offer her help with your makeup and hair, which you graciously and gratefully took her up on. You were desperate for some feminine support, and Nat came in the form of an angel sent from the heavens.  

The way she worked her magic left you unable to believe it was you staring back at yourself in the mirror; hair flawlessly styled and makeup ethereal. A shaky sigh escapes you. “You really think so?”   

All in all, as you walk down the hallway to the door that hides your date from view, arm in arm with your guardian angel, there is not one reason for why you are so anxious — though the pressure you place on yourself to make sure this date is perfect is among one of the chief suspects. 

You meant, wholeheartedly, what you told Bucky before — he deserves the world, and you crave to hand it to him. “I mean–”

“Listen to me,” Nat says fiercely as she steps in front of you, blocking your path to the door of the apartment and stopping you in your tracks. Her hands grip your arms, tethering you to reality. “I know for a fact that boy is going to positively die when he sees you.” 

The tension releases from your body with her comforting words, but Nat still goes above and beyond to bring you out of your spiral. “Hell, if I wasn’t already with your brother, I'd have snatched you up myself.” 

You can’t help the small smile that quirks your lips for her instilled confidence, and she winks. 

You’re grateful that Steve has found someone so genuine who you easily get along with. Natasha is a beautiful woman both inside and out, faultlessly honest and loyal — traits that are hard to find in a person, yet here she is, extending her help with little thought or expectation of it being returned.  

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to convey how much you appreciate her. “Y–You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“Maybe not.” Her hair bounces as she shrugs. “But us girls gotta stick together — especially now that we’ve got two helmet heads stuck to our back.” 

“Come on.” Her arm hooks around yours, and she pulls you along. “Let’s go get your boy.” 

Before you can blink, you are standing outside your brother’s apartment, and with a deep breath and moral support of the redhead on your arm, you bring your closed fist up to the wood. “Here we go.” Three, firm knocks ring through the silence, and you step back to wait. 

The anticipation doesn't last very long at all before the door swings inwards with a flourish. 

Steve stands in the entryway, his back turned towards you while he shouts into his apartment. “Hurry your ass up, Buck–!” You lightly switch your weight between your feet, waiting for him to turn around. “They’re at the door!” 

There’s a clattering bang and more curses from inside the apartment, when Steve finally turns around to greet you. “There’s my favourite girls—” He freezes in place, mouth slack from shock, and his eyes trail up and down your body. “Flower,” he gasps in awe. “Oh sis, you look so beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words immediately brings tears to your eyes, and Nat hisses at her boyfriend, “Hey, don’t ruin her makeup!”  

“I’m sorry,” Steve says slowly, still taking you in. “I just– you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you.” 

Nat hums happily while her hand rubs your shoulder. “Isn’t she? I said Bucky’s going to die when he sees her.” 

“Guys,” You whine, the hot flush of embarrassment leaves you feeling utterly flustered.  

Steve ignores you though, readily agreeing with his girlfriend as he opens the door wider to let you both enter. “She’s right, Flower. It suits you perfectly.” 

A surge of giddiness hits you — after a time of intense deliberation of your wardrobe, you chose one of your favourite sundresses to wear for the special night, a spaghetti strap in a soft, cornflower blue. A small surprise and homage to someone special. “Thanks Stevie, I really appreciate–”  

“Okay, okay, wait–” Bucky rounds the corner from the hallway as he enters the living room, interrupting you. “What about this one?”  

The cufflinks on his navy blue button-up steal his whole attention, while his long, chocolate hair conceals you from his view. He struggles fastening the cuffs with the subtle shake of his fingers, and you can almost hear his inner frustration when he huffs an annoyed breath, blowing strands of hair from his face. “Dammit, I swear–”

You stand there with thin lips to contain your laughter while waiting for him to look up.  

“Steve?” Bucky asks frustratedly after he doesn’t receive an immediate response. “Do you think Buttercup will like this outfit or not–” His head tilts upwards, hair falling either side of his handsome face that is painted with exasperation at being ignored, and his words falter.

Blue eyes widen in surprise to find you standing there next to his best friend. 

“Oh– fuck,” Bucky gasps, and his jaw slackens with the gravity of your presence; truly awe stricken by the sight of your opulent outfit and appearance. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps uselessly around his inability to speak. 

The click of your shoes against the floorboards doesn’t snap him out of his daze let alone register in his mind, so deep in his fixation of you.  

You take the chance to admire his appearance. 

The navy, button-up shirt clings to his broad shoulders, accentuating the definition of the muscles all the way down to his forearms, and with each movement, the material tightens sinfully. The top few buttons of his shirt are left undone — a choice you’re most thankful for because of the tease of his bare chest. Black slacks fit snug to his hips and grip his thick thighs. 

On any normal day, when Bucky wasn’t out in the field in his football gear, he normally stuck to his casual clothing of an old t-shirt and sweatpants — comfort over presentability, not that you ever complain about the sight of him in sweats. But this is the first time you’ve ever seen him remotely dressed up.

You walk towards him and grab his hands with yours, stopping his absentminded fidgeting — gravity keeping him routed in place. 

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, Bucky,” you say, gazing into his eyes while you wonder how lucky you are to hold his attention in a room of his favourite people. “If that answers your question.”

“My god, Bee,” he whispers, finally able to give a voice to the flock of thoughts circling his mind. “You look stunning, baby — ethereal.” He laughs, a little deliriously. “You’re kinda killing me here.” His large hands encircle yours, bringing them up to hold against his chest. 

There’s so much emotion in his eyes as they dart over your figure like there’s not enough time in the world for him to take you in. 

“Give us a spin!” Nat calls into the charged air while she clings onto Steve’s arm, who watches on teary eyed. 

Bucky takes one of your hands and lifts it into the air, encouraging you to twirl. The skirt of your dress fans out around your thighs, and you can’t help but grin wide as your boyfriend whistles low. “You're a goddamn dream, Buttercup.”

He guides you back into his hold, before gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to bump his nose against yours. “And all mine.” 

The way Bucky’s stare burrows deep into your soul and makes a home where he rightfully belongs — it takes everything you have to not blurt out the three words residing on the tip of your tongue, but something has you biting your lip against the impulse. 

Instead of declaring aloud what your mind and heart feel, you settle with another truth, “And you, Bucky Barnes, are a sight for sore eyes.” 

A dusting of pink spreads high over his cheeks, and you take pride in being able to fluster him so easily — your adorable Pup would never lose his bashfulness. 

“What did I tell you, honey?” Natasha bumps her hips against Steve’s as she snickers into her hand. “He’s practically drooling over her.” 

You join in with their laughter while Bucky pulls you close and buries himself into your neck, even more flustered from the insistent teasing, and he grumbles low into your ear, “Great, now there’s two of them.” 

Leaning back to better look at his flushed face, you assure him, “I think you’re adorable, baby.”

His eyes twinkle with a spark only you could ever bring out of him. “I’m excited for the night, Bee,” Bucky declares, honest and sweet. 

“Me too, handsome,” you readily agree while you step back, the small hops of uncontainable excitement making Steve and Nat chuckle. “Are we all set to leave?” 

“Oh!” Nat cries, “Before you forget—” She slips out of Steve’s hold and rushes into the kitchen, coming back a second later with a wicker basket full of food, the very same that she insisted on when she first found out about your date. With a wink, she hands it to you. “You can’t leave without this.” 

“You’re an angel,” you praise, walking towards her and holding your arms wide for a hug. She readily accepts it and kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you so much for this.”

Just as you step back from her embrace to grab her offering, Bucky swoops in and grabs the basket before you can even touch the wicker handle. “Hey! Excuse me, Barnes,” you scold, frowning at him. “I am more than capable of carrying that.”

“I know,” Bucky teases while he walks backwards towards the apartment door, a devilish grin on his lips. “But I don’t care for a picnic basket gettin’ in the way and ruinin’ the view of my girl in a pretty dress.” 

Your jaw drops from his suave words, and you stand there, flustered as you watch his retreating form. Without looking, he opens the door with his free hand and bids farewell to his best friend with a nod, then he smiles at Nat. 

Bucky then looks to you. The flick of his hair as he nods towards the hallway pulls you from the reverie. “Come on, beautiful. The night is young; the possibilities endless.” 

Where the hell has he gotten his silver tongue from? your mind questions. 

“He’s gotten too smooth for his own good,” Steve comments as though he read your mind, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“You don’t say,” you reply easily. To get to the door, you walk past your brother, and he slips a folded piece of paper into your hand while Bucky is walking into the hallway, his back turned. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

Steve grins. “Have fun, Flower — you deserve this.” Naturally, it wouldn’t be a traditional sibling farewell without a departing shout of, “And make sure you wear protection, shithead!” 

The Brooklyn streets are aglow from the overhead lights while the moon creeps up the horizon, watching over you and Bucky holding hands. He blindly follows you towards your best kept secret.  

“Let me get this straight.” Bucky swings your arm with his gently. “You’re telling me I can’t have any clues about where you’re taking me?” 

“Nope,” you respond, staying strong to your oath of silence. “We’re a couple of blocks away, you dummy. You’re going to find out in five minutes — be patient, I know it’s hard.” 

“C’mon, Bee,” Bucky begs. “You don’t wanna put a poor man out of his misery?” He lightly tugs on your intertwined hands to spin you into his chest. 

“Hey–” You look up at him to find his eyes hooded with barely restrained lust.  

“I almost died already after seeing you in that dress for the first time, and now you’re torturing me, I have to watch you walk in front of me in the damned thing.” 

Oh, you laugh to yourself. He’s really turning the charm up. 

“Puppy,” you whisper breathily, intentionally running a hand down his chest. The action and your touch makes Bucky shudder. “Believe me when I say I could make you do a lot worse.” 

A deep flush of red paints his cheeks and spreads blotchily down his neck, and his breath hitches when you cup his jaw in your palm. “Be good for me, and be patient,” you warn, the fan of your breath over his lips only worsening his flustered state. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Y–Yeah, okay–” He clears his throat and sets you back onto your feet, though he does not release your hand.  

A flash of mischief darkens his eyes when you pull him onwards, and you look over your shoulder at him when he says, “Yes ma’am.” 

That is something you could get used to hearing. “Atta boy.”

The rest of the walk is quiet but calm — a mutual contentment stretching between the two of you where words aren’t needed. 

You know that around the next street corner lay your surprise, and Bucky still has no idea what is in store — the piece of paper that Steve gave you begins to burn a hole in your dress pocket.  

The exclamation of surprise that falls from Bucky’s lips when he lays eyes on the museum makes all the effort worth it, though it grows to a state of clear confusion from the furrowing of his brows. “Wait, it’s late — isn’t it closed?”

“Come on,” you say in reply, and instead of going to the main entrance, you lead Bucky towards an alleyway where Steve told you the back entrance for staff is situated.  

The crinkle of paper is louder than the cheering crowd at a football game, and you grip the invaluable information as you near the locked door. Steve’s offering rings in your mind: It will get you into the main foyer, from there, you’re gonna need to get sneaky.

Bucky’s hand squeezes yours in an attempt to get your attention. “Bee?”

You’re too homed in on the memory of Steve talking to you about your plan — one of their teammates works within the museum, and he was able to pull a few strings and call in a couple of favours for the gold mine in your hand. 

You determinedly walk towards the keypad built into the wall next to the door and unfold the note. In the process, you let Bucky’s hand go — you instantly feel the loss of connection.    

“Um— Buttercup,” he chuckles nervously, glancing over his shoulders to spot any onlookers. “I think this is classified as illegal trespassing right now.” 

“I mean,” you say, then you stick your tongue between your teeth as you work the six-digit code from the piece of paper to the keypad. The low tone press of each digit covers up the shuffle of feet behind you. “Bucky, it’s okay — it’s safe.”

“But–” He hesitates when the mechanism clicks to signify it's open. 

You look at him and suddenly grasp the idea that he is anxious — his football scholarship and prospective future could be ripped away from him within the hour should the two of you get caught by the authorities.

“Hey, hey, we’re good — no one’s gonna catch us, I swear,” you assure. Though he still looks on edge. You don’t want Bucky to feel apprehensive for the sake of his headspace or the rest of the evening, and your only option is to offer him your most sincere form of faith. You hold out your hand, palm up. “We’re gonna be okay. Trust me?”

  

There’s a small, nervous twitch of a smile on his lips, and then, finally, his tense shoulders and posture relax as he steps forward and sets his hand into yours with an ease that shocks you, only strengthening the solid connection you have. 

“Come on.” Bucky follows behind you, a slight laugh on his breath as you all but run into the museum. 

Different eras of evolution pass by in a flash; hundreds of exhibits dedicated to all corners of the world go ignored in lieu of taking Bucky to one place that, normally, was not an easy area to walk through and explore, given how popular the exhibit is. 

By the time you reach the doors hidden behind a set of double, velvet curtains, you’re out of breath. “O—kay,” you pant, hands on your hips as you slightly bend forward. “We’re — we’re here.”  

Your boyfriend, the teasing bastard he is, chuckles while he extends a hand to your shoulder, “Are you okay?” 

The bastard hasn’t even broken a sweat. 

“Fine — I’m fine,” you gasp, and you gesture at the curtains. “Come on, I can’t hold it in any longer–” The heels of your shoes click over the floor, and you push aside the curtains to reveal the door — only then do you turn around and smile at Bucky. “Here we go.”

The doors fly open with a flourish and reveal a domed planetarium with the signage above a giant moon: A Journey Through The Stars. 

It is a coveted event within the science community, and only after you hear of it through whispers in the halls of your dorms and classes did you realise it was perfect. 

Darkness cloaks and envelopes the two of you as you step inside — Bucky moving slowly in his daze of amazement. On strings and platforms above and lining the dome ceiling are twinkling lights and stars, the only source of lumination to show the wonderment in his cerulean blues. 

You watch from a distance with bated breath while Bucky stares to the ceiling, mouth agape, taking in the moving three-dimensional hologram above him and everything it has to offer. 

The galaxy, with its swirls of pinks, purples, and blues among millions of stars, are brought to life before his very eyes. Planets thousands of times bigger than the two of you cross and circle one another above your heads, closer than either of you could have ever thought possible, and yet, still only just out of reach — the concept achieves the impossible. 

In the end, you realise as you stare at Bucky, your heart swelling with the love that courses through you, that you have gone beyond the very goal you were desperate to attain; to give Bucky Barnes the world. 

He spins on the spot, eyes bright with a childlike awe you have only ever seen on the mornings you've woken up in his arms. The glow of the celestial wonders captures in that second, a memory that will last forever — the sight of your man, the centre of your world, underneath the stars. 

Ever so slowly, Bucky delicately brings his gaze back down to earth, and notices the distance between the two of you. His voice echoes across the room, off of the planets and stars as he asks with a waver in his voice, “H–How did you know?” 

You smile. “That you’re kind of an astronomy nerd?”  

Bucky only nods his head, still at a loss for words. Strands of his neatly tucked hair fall over his eyes, and you take a deep breath and steady your own voice. “Do you remember our first movie night with Stevie and Nat?” 

There is a small hum of acknowledgement from deep in his throat. 

“Well,” you continue, “I remember the two of them were arguing, it took them ages to settle on a film choice. I was beginning to lose my tether.” The recollection of the memory — their voices and banter make you chuckle. “Anyway, a trailer came up on the TV for an upcoming film about an astronaut getting stuck in space — the Martian, maybe? I’m not too sure.” 

He is purely focused on you as you speak, and you begin to recall your favourite part of the memory with a fond smile, ignoring the slight lump in your throat from the overwhelming flood of fondness and adoration. “But I watched– I watched as your head snapped up instantly. You were enamoured, Bucky — I’ve never seen you so hooked into anything more in my life.”

Time freezes as Bucky stands there, unmoving and speechless. The lack of reaction from him makes your stomach twist with nerves, and you rush to fill the silence, rambling on, “Then I noticed the smaller things. Your stack of astronomy books on your nightstand, the NASA merch I find when I steal one of your sweaters.” A small laugh escapes then at his incredulous expression. “And so, I went out on a whim, piecing everything together, and I– well, I thought I should try my chances.” 

“You really—” Bucky swallows the lump stuck in his throat. “You noticed all of that?”

“Of course I did, Bucky,” you tell him with reverence. “How could I not notice something you’re in love with?” The colours of the night sky shimmer over his face and over the sheen in his eyes as he stares at you. Hesitantly, you ask, “D–Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?” He repeats, huffing a breath. “Do I– do I like it–?”

There’s a thud as the basket he was holding falls to the floor, and you gasp while he storms towards you and picks you up around your waist to spin you around in the air. 

His grin is wide while you squeal with shock. “Damn right I like it!” he shouts with pride. “My girl is the fucking best!” 

“Ah–! Bucky!” The skirt of your dress flutters over your thighs as you hold onto his shoulders.

He whoops and yells his happiness, and after a few rotations, he carefully places you back down onto the floor, only he doesn’t stop his persistent touch — kisses scatter over your face, never lingering in one place for more than a second. 

“You’re — so — amazing.” His lips move downwards from your face to your jaw, then your neck. “Can’t — believe — you’re — actually — mine.” 

The ache in your stomach flutters from your laughter, though you are on cloud nine and find it difficult to care when the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long is kissing your face like there is no tomorrow. 

Eventually, Bucky begins to calm down, settling his forehead against yours while wrapping his hands around your waist. “This means everything to me, Buttercup.” He grants you a slow, final kiss to your lips. “Thank you.” 

“You are more than welcome, sweet boy.” You move closer into his chest and peck him on the lips. “Now let’s have that picnic.”

The two of you sit under the largest planet, and you dive into the contents of the picnic basket to find Natasha has packed a whole range of finger foods from sandwiches, mini cakes, to strawberries and grapes. A small bottle of your favourite drink is tucked into the side of the basket, next to two glasses.  

After a toast, “To what the universe has planned for us,” you both bask in one another’s company — two tiny specks of the universe coming together as one. 

You listen intently as Bucky excitedly rambles about the different planets, as well as his love for Mars in particular. The gesticulation and smile on his face is priceless, and you only wish you had thought to bring a camera. 

Bucky continues endlessly — listing interesting facts about each planet and star he knew, and he goes into detail about any active NASA projects or upcoming ones he’s been keeping track of. 

Not only is he an avid storyteller, he makes sure to involve you in the conversation, engaging you with silly questions on whether you believe in other life out there, and any of your thoughts you have about historical space ventures. 

It is easy to fall into step with his passion, and you know that you could stare all night as his whole face lights up, especially his eyes, while he talks about something he thought no one noticed before. 

But you did. 

The highlight is when Bucky begins to talk about star constellations — his love and adoration surpassing that of anything you had heard from him before.   

He sits behind you, legs resting either side of your body while he holds you to his chest with one arm, the other pointing up towards the dome ceiling. “You see that one there, Bee?” There’s a cluster of twinkling stars in the direction of his gesture. “The large rectangle one — that’s Orion.”

The soothing rumble of his voice against your back is remedying — home.  

“It’s also known as Orion The Hunter,” Bucky explains further. “A Greek name, but its true origin is believed to come from the ancient times of Babylon.” 

“It’s beautiful, Bucky,” You sigh happily. The cluster and the whole of the night’s sky is truly beautiful — once they were just a pattern of lights in the sky to you, now they hold far more meaning. 

“Yeah,” your boyfriend agrees. You don’t see how his eyes flicker down to you, rather, you only feel his cheeks rising in a smile. “It is.” He clears his throat. “The constellation includes two of the brightest stars in the sky.” 

“Really?” You hunch forward a little to look upwards. 

“Mhm,” Bucky confirms with a hum. 

With a huff of effort, you push yourself up onto your feet, and walk closer to the constellation until you are directly underneath the pattern of stars. It’s with a new appreciation you stare up at the twinkling lights that you didn’t have before — admiring the complexity of the placement but the simple beauty of it. 

The reflection from the dome ceiling illuminates onto your skin, tattooing patterns of a realm that will never be discovered for its full existence. 

Bucky, however, focuses entirely on you — his girl, in a reality the two of you once never thought possible. 

A shuffling of feet comes from next to you, and Bucky stands and makes his way towards you. He places both of his hands onto your cheeks to tilt your head back down, to be back in the present with him. “Maybe not the brightest. But that’s okay, because that one is only meant for me anyway.” 

It’s sudden, but it consumes you whole — mind, body, and soul — of the realisation that Bucky Barnes is the love of your life. 

You fight the tears threatening to bubble to the surface, though it’s futile — a few escape and trail down your cheeks to collect on Bucky’s thumbs. Those three pesky words fight to spill from your heart and out into the open, to hang in the closing distance between Bucky and you. 

But somehow, it doesn’t seem like the right time. A fragile moment that while you know could truly never break, uttering those words feels like it will shatter the last of your resolve. 

And so, you save them; sealing your mouth closed with a sworn promise to let them go soon. 

Seconds go by as you collect yourself, and then you manage in a choked voice, “My, my — What have you done with my Bucky?” 

“He’s still here,” Bucky vows. “You just make me so dizzy — so goddamn fuckin’ dizzy — that I’ll spill whatever comes to mind.” 

That makes two of you.

You place your hands over his, still encapsulating your face. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl swoon, handsome.”

His lips turn upwards in a lopsided grin that shows a slither of his pearly whites. “I would find a way to pull the moon out of the sky if you asked me to, Buttercup.” 

There is no doubt in your heart over that — Bucky would go to the ends of the earth for you. But you didn’t need that, you have everything you could wish for already in the palm of your hands. “Lucky for you, I’ll only ask for a dance underneath it.” 

Bucky’s lopsided grin turns into a thousand-watt smile, as bright as the stars above you both. “Now that is something I can make happen.” 

There’s no music, no beat for the two of you to follow, but that doesn't stop Bucky from gathering you closer to his chest — his arms cross over your back to pull you flush with his front. 

You turn your head to the side and lay your cheek against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to better hold him. 

The steady rhythm of his heart guides the steps to your dance, the slow sway side to side of your bodies. You feel the brush of his lips at your temple, then he mutters something under his breath; a barely there string of unintelligible words that do nothing but add to the peace of the moment. 

Bucky sighs and hugs you tighter. 

The night is only just beginning. 

Part Three

[tommykinard]

Your gif blending skills are *chefs kiss* so, so good! Any tips/tricks you could maybe give for a seamless blending? Thank you! 💕

Thank you for the kind message!! I'd be happy to share how I blend my gifs! I did a basic blending tutorial here that just covers how to put two gifs on top of each other on the same canvas, but I can explain more about how I clean up my blends and make them seamless.

The key components are black brushes, the eraser tool, and layer opacity

So the below gif is what I get when I simply put my two gifs on top of each other and position them the way I want, but I want it to look a bit cleaner.

This is how I have my gifs set up, with the gifs and the colourings within separate folders (b for Buck on the left, and t for Tommy on the right).

And this is what it looks like when I open up one of those folders.

Now when I blend, I add a new layer within each folder on top of all the colouring layers, (the layer blend mode is set to normal), and I do the same thing in the Buck folder

Painting with black brushes

So now I use a big, soft, black brush to paint on this new layer I created. Wherever I paint is the area I hide. Since I'm starting in the Tommy folder, I'm going to paint over the areas from the Tommy gif that cover Buck, so that these areas get hidden.

I want to hide that bright spot on top of Buck's face (which is coming from the tommy gif) so I take a brush that roughly matches the size of the area (the circle that I drew). So in this case I'm using a 300px brush at 0% hardness set to black. And all I do is move my brush to the area I want to cover, and *CLICK ONCE*. I don't drag the brush, I simply move it into position, click once, and let go.

Here you can see the before and after

As you can see, Buck's face is a lot clearer now. And this is what my layers panel looks like.

Let's say I want to hide a little more, and clear up Buck's face even further. I simply create another new layer within the folder (above layer 4 in my screenshot) and again, click once over the desired area with my brush.

This is what it looks like now, but let's say I want to add some of that texture back. I simply go to the layer, and reduce the opacity. I usually play around with anywhere from 20% to 80% opacity.

Now I do the same thing for the Buck gif, but this time I paint over Tommy's face, meaning that I'm hiding the areas of the Buck gif that are covering Tommy's face.

This time I clicked twice with my black brush because I didn't feel that one click hid enough of the gif. Also, if you feel like you brushed over too big of an area, just take your eraser (usually the same size as/slightly smaller than your brush, also at 0% hardness) and CLICK TO ERASE. This is the final blend that I'm happy with.

Final comments

I found that this is the easiest way to blend, because other methods using layer masks sometimes leave you with those transparent pixels to deal with. Just make sure to CLICK with your brush/eraser and NEVER DRAG. This method is also super helpful when you have two "incompatible" gifs, such as when one gif is really bright. By clicking with a big soft brush you can still show the gif behind it while not making it look too disjointed, like I did here:

Here's another tutorial that I find helpful, which goes over using the dark spots in your gifs to help with the blending. Hope this helps!!