#adelaide stone

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Working on a cowboy au for Marmalaide that starts with Addie and Tony getting into a fight (it's a really bad fight, too) with the end result being Tony sending her to a ranch run by Stucky and I wanted to see if the quote I wrote feverishly at 630am when I couldn't sleep still packed a punch and uh. It feels worse five hours later.

"How is this any better? It's still keeping me away from the people who actually care about me, and all because, what, you wanna roleplay as ‘daddy’? You're not my father, Anthony. You're an alcoholic, a control freak, and a whore, and the only reason you're my godfather is because your parents died before I was born and my parents took pity on you! If you wanna be someone’s dad, you can go impregnate one of your favorite cumsluts, but I will never be your child just because of some fucking power play you're trying to make.”

Like holy shit dude. No wonder he goes no-contact for a few months 💀 tbh her sister (Peia) probably does too for a lil bit just on principle bc that's not cool man. He's just trying to help.

I think the worst part about the whole thing is knowing that Tony standing firm in his decision to send her to the ranch (as opposed to her being sent to jail btw) is ultimately the best decision ever made in her life because it gives her two cowboy husbands and a purpose in life but damn it's gonna take a while for that wound to heal

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i keep hearing the lyric to benson boones "cry" wrong as "go fuck somebody else so i can sleep at night" and its giving captain mirage i fear

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posting a snippet of 40s!captain mirage bc theyre in my head and heart constantly

It started with vignettes, little snippets of a life almost too domestic for her taste. Filling a cart at the grocery, a table for two with a candle burning, folding a man’s laundry next to her own. There were details hidden that she understood anyway: a box of love letters sitting on the table to save for memories, carefully chosen earrings she knew were a gift for their anniversary, the feeling of a wedding ring on her finger and a baby softly kicking inside her, even if she couldn't see them. She felt older. Settled-down. Mature. Her life had changed from the frantic days of youth to a more motherly and calm time for someone—someones, plural—she hadn’t yet seen.

And then, he opened the front door.

Adelaide recognized this mystery husband of hers before he’d even gotten the door open wide enough to step through. That triangular silhouette, the fluffy blonde hair, his warmth and the smell of his cologne and the smile that melted her heart. That was Steve Rogers, pure and beautiful and kind, looking at her like she was his entire universe, the way he had for months without her ever catching on. Steve Rogers, who belonged to her so whole-heartedly, whether she knew it or not. Her Steve Rogers.

He slipped into their home with a comfortable ease, dropping his bag on the couch so he could envelop her in his arms without wasting a single second. Adelaide hugged back like it was second nature, like this wasn't the strangest dream she'd ever had. “I missed you,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, burying his nose there. “When are you done with maternity leave? I hate being away from you for so long.” His comment earned a hearty laugh from her, though she couldn't explain why, even if her dream self had the needed context.

“I only started yesterday, and you're the one who made sure I got twelve weeks. Paid, somehow. What did you do to the poor colonel to make him agree to that?”

“I may have told him I’d walk into the next HYDRA base and make them hire me if he wouldn't respect my wife,” he said nonchalantly. Adelaide’s eyebrows shot up, shocked at his words. “What?” Steve asked at her expression, chuckling, “He needed the backtalk. I'd never actually do it, of course, but we’re talking about the same guy who said ‘the Army is here to get the job done, son, not to make a statement’ when he found out I was dating you, just because you’re colored.”

“You're gonna get yourself fired,” she said, shaking her head. She couldn't help that she was so fond of his antics, though she did her best to hide that to keep from encouraging him.

“I'm Captain America. It'd take a lot more than that for them to fire me. Besides, you're worth it,” he beamed.

Steve tilted his head down to press a gentle kiss to her lips, the feeling making her stomach flutter. It was so natural, so perfect, so easy. It was home. It was the only place she wanted to be anymore, the only place that really mattered, tangled up in his arms with his lips against hers in a way that told her he was hers entirely, forever. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, nor something she thought she ever would feel for someone. She was well-acquainted with the notion of romance, but it was always something that had seemed to pass her by. Her parents, her sisters, her friends; they all seemed to have this extra sort of love that Adelaide had never been interested in and never felt. Now, though, with Steve’s lips pressed against hers and his arms around her waist, it felt as if there hadn't been a day that had gone by when she didn't love him. She just hadn't recognized it yet.

With a gasp sharp enough to make her lungs sting, Adelaide sat up in her bed after breaking from the dream. It was still December of 1941, just six months after she’d left home. There was one thing that had changed, however: she was now acutely aware that she was in love with her best friend. Painfully so, really. Luckily for her, he’d loved her since the day they met. She just didn't know how to reciprocate the feeling, now that she was aware it went both ways. “…Fuck,” she uttered, fingers pressed against her lips in a desperate attempt to remember the feeling of Steve’s in her dream. “What am I supposed to do about that?!”

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rereading my fic to try and conjure muse to write and stumbling across a scene where adelaide is helping bucky ground using the 54321 technique (and not explaining it, letting the surprise and confusion take more of his brain away from the thing hes having a panic about) and its just,,, so chefs kiss

i cant stress how unprepared bucky is for it too, its literally day one of him living at the tower and she barges into his room out of nowhere because she can hear his thoughts screaming at her from six floors down and clearly someone needs to help him

so all of a sudden theres this woman he barely knows walking him through a few deep breaths before hitting him with "tell me five different colors you can see in the room. what are they? where do you see them?"

i love writing traumatized bucky and his mind-reader wife. i love them so much.

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had a silly thought (detailed below) and now based off that silly thought, assuming i ever write her as an adult, im wondering if i should make auriella another aroace queen—bc i can never have too many—or a lesbian—bc we can also never have too many

so what is the silly thought? the silly thought was this:

Auriella, dramatically: The only man I'll ever love is my daddy. Steve, said daddy, grinning from ear to ear: 🥰🥰🥰 Bucky, Auri's Abba, feeling left out: hEY—

[tomitis-ocs]

Me making a collage of my ocs' fcs vs remembering tumblr's pfp is circular and not square 🤦 most of them just get part of their bodies cut off this is fine

Anyway here's the actual collage if you wanna see it

Anyway, welcome to my sideblog. Main is @send-noodles-not-nudes if you wanna see my regular shitposting. This blog is specifically for oc shitposting ✌️ these are my idiots and I love them, I hope you love them too!

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wip wednesday

Thank you @cueloki for the tag and never mind that I'm getting this in three minutes before midnight 💀

From my day 22 flufftober ("polar opposites") draft <3 it's a significantly different format from my normal writing but I kinda vibe with it, lemme know what you think

Steve, whose primary sense is touch, whose body longs to press against hers, whose lips beg to grace her skin, whose hands are constantly reaching, whose very soul seeks to entangle in hers.

Adelaide, who shirks away from the contact, for whom touch feels like fire, who melts under any soft caress, who liquifies with the way he holds her like she means something.

Steve, who instinctively holds on to his lover at night to protect her, to shield her from the world, to be close, to show love.

Adelaide, whose every conscious cell screams to push him away to keep him from seeing her, from loving her, from letting her love him.

Steve, whose kiss is slow and light and experimental, who’s terrified to push her away, who’s content with what he can get, even when it isn't much.

Adelaide, who meets his lips with fervor, whose kiss is deep and hungry and frantic, who’s unafraid to take what she wants, who wastes no time drowning them in each other’s taste.

Adelaide, who didn't recognize love until years after she felt it for her soulmate.

Steve, who knew he loved her long before his mind could catch up with his heart.

Steve, who fell so easy and quick and effortlessly, who accepted his feelings and fate, who let himself love her despite the complications it might bring.

Adelaide, who had to be dragged into love, who went kicking at fighting, who was terrified of what she felt and who she felt it for, who tried so hard not to give in.

Steve, whose worst nightmare is waking up alone again, who’s terrified to lose her, who can't bear the thought of a world without her in it now that he's experienced her love.

Adelaide, to whom love is petrifying, who’s scared shitless to let him in, who worries she’ll come to love him just to lose him, who can't imagine a world where someone loves her as much as he does.

Steve, for whom love came fully and immediately, crashing into him like a tsunami, from the moment her lips met his.

Adelaide, for whom love came slowly and cynically, dripping like the world's slowest coffee pot, after months of being around him.

Steve, who would die for her in a heartbeat.

Adelaide, who would kill for him without hesitation.

Steve, whose entire world is her.

Adelaide, whose whole universe is him.

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Happy almost October, have a fluff preview as I prep for my first ever flufftober

With anxiety about anniversary gifts brewing, Bucky took the opportunity from Steve’s absence via chocolate trip to check on his other half. He was shocked to find Adelaide actually looking stressed, her usually unflappable demeanor now looking rather flapped, indeed. Bucky arched a brow at her mood, taking a seat across the table from her as she scowled at whatever she was looking at. “You good, doll?” he asked, half hesitant and half teasing. He hadn't seen her look like this since she was fighting to overturn anti-miscegenation laws last year. She shoved a small stack of papers toward him, giving him a pleading look.

“Is this too cheesy?” she asked, clearly disheartened.

Bucky took a minute to read over what she had, face softening when he saw what she'd put together. Yeah, that chocolates idea definitely looks like amateur hour now, he thought. Whoops. Still, he couldn't get over the helpless, almost sad look in Adelaide’s eyes at the thought of being ‘too cheesy’, as if there was anything wrong with such an accusation when it came to love. He enveloped her hands in his own, looking her straight in the eye and making sure he had her unwavering attention before he spoke, words raw with honesty and lacking his typical teasing tone. “Addie, baby, if he gives you even a modicum of shit for what you made on the grounds of it being ‘too cheesy’, I'm taking you to city hall myself to get the divorce papers,” he promised, one of his hands moving up to flicker over her chin, holding her there like he was about to kiss her. His gaze and his touch were too close, too intimate, but what else could she expect from a man that had been in love with both of his best friends since the day they met?

Never one to linger in a serious moment, Adelaide was quick to change the tone. She brushed his hand away, clearing her throat and breaking eye contact for just a moment to give herself some reprieve. “You're just looking for an excuse to marry me, Barnes. Always have been,” she teased.

“Always will be,” he grinned. “Y’gotta admit, Adelaide Barnes does have quite the ring to it.”

“So does Adelaide Rogers, and Steve actually did put a ring on it,” she teased, holding her left hand up and wiggling her fingers. Bucky slapped a hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Low blow!” he protested. “Compromise and call it Adelaide Barnes-Rogers?”

“Rogers-Barnes. Final offer.” He sucked in a sharp breath.

“You drive a hard bargain, princess. When's the wedding?” Bucky asked with a lopsided grin. Adelaide could only laugh at how serious he sounded, shaking her head fondly.

“You're an idiot, Buck.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” He never lost his conviction. Never would. It was impossible to pretend he didn't feel what he felt, so he didn't bother putting up pretenses.

“And Steve,” she corrected.

“And Steve,” he agreed with a nod. Adelaide let out a content sigh, standing up for a brief moment to give Bucky a kiss on the forehead.

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Bucky. Really.” He looked up at her with the most adoring eyes, and she swore she could've melted on the spot.

“Any time, doll,” he promised, voice soft and full of intent neither of them could recognize this century. "Any time."