bakerstreet | Hair braiding, flower crowns, the works

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Hair braiding, flower crowns, the works

The Personal Hygiene Shipping Meme

Personal hygiene is just that - personal. By the time we've come to a point in our lives where we notice that the concept exists and we should be prudent about it, we can take care of ourselves. There are also many practical reasons why we don't involve other people in this process. We're not too keen on showing off parts to be cleaned that are private in most contexts, and there's definitely an ingrained aversion to showing so much soft, fleshy skin. Hot water or a sharp razor could spell dangerous with a capital D should they come into the hands of someone with a vendetta against you. No need to be extra vulnerable.

So, if you're involving another person in your cleansing routines, it must be someone you trust. Not only that, but it's most likely someone you're comfortable with and likely at least somewhat open to being intimate with. You may not be dropping all your clothing in front of them, but it's still you opening yourself up to touching and closeness unparalleled in more "usual" moments.

Established and burgeoning couples (or not-so-couples) can bond through this showing of care and good faith. Will you like being pampered and find the attention endearing? Or will things go terribly, terribly wrong?

...you never should have let them near that shaving cream.

Comment with your character and preferences.
Smut is not required. Mention if you want/don't want it.
Reply to others and use the RNG.

Comfort: You've decided to pitch in a helping hand to get your partner to unwind, and warm water or suds may do the trick.
Romantic: The sole purpose of this endeavor is to set a lovey-dovey mood. No shame here!
It Started Out Platonic...: What a good pal you are, volunteering to give your friend a good scrub. Of course, you didn't count on the cute way she squirms as you scrub her back or how he blushes when you shampoo his scalp.
No Choice: Currently, you're unable to clean yourself up. That means that you need assistance, and it might as well be the person you lov- tolerate the most.
Open: You have trust issues. Actually, you have backlogs of trust issues. Still, you want to show the person you love that you're willing and trying to change for them, and what better way than letting down your walls and having the assist in your grooming?
Shave: Whether it's your face, your legs, or...your other places you've decided to shave, there's a certain intimacy involved in letting your lover do it for you. Let's hope they won't leave you looking like you got into a battle with a book with the paper cuts to prove it.
Reluctant: They want to get you clean. You don't want to show off your body at all. It's injured, it looks weird, what if they don't like it...
Forced: You love them, you really do, but you won't kiss them if they continue to look like an unwashed hobo clown. You have to draw the line somewhere, and if they won't take action, you will.
Beat Up: You've been trampled in a fight. Your partner isn't about to let you wallow around in your own mud and blood.
Hair: Some find that there's nothing quite as soothing as getting their hair washed or brushed. Of course, those with more luxurious locks may find any hair care a burden, so the assistance is appreciated.
Make Up: They think you're beautiful already. See how they'll paint you up when they get the chance.
Unique: If you're not human, you probably have your own proceeders you have to do to keep all spiffied up. There are wings with stray feathers to pluck, horns on heads to polish, scales to shave down, all sorts of tasks! Introduce your ignorant (and most likely human) boyfriend or girlfriend to your world...and your pain.
Accommodations: Those with disabilities or prosthetics may also have their own routines, and anyone who wants to be with them should learn how to pitch in.
Sponge Bath: You don't have enough water to do this right or you just want to give them a nice rub and scrub with a gentle sponge or wash cloth.
Wound Care: In order for wounds to heal, proper care must be taken. Bandages have to be changed and cuts cleaned out. It's certainly easier when you don't have to do it all by yourself.
Together: You're both cleaning up, taking a bath, splish splash, in the same tub because there's no where else to go. This is the most likely smut option, even if, again, it starts off "platonic."
Clothing: Don't forget that clean clothes are an important part of personal hygiene. Always make sure your partner has a nice, fresh outfit, even if it's to your taste and not theirs.
I've Made a Terrible Mistake: Somehow, everything's now shit. This little experiment went haywire and you may be sporting anything from the worst hairdo of your life to a Columbian necktie.
FREE SPACE

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(( No smut, just intimacy. Shippy or gen! ))

[ No smut please, gen cr just as welcome as shipping. ]

(No smut, no terrible mistake. Would love to find a Vaughn. Open to crosscanon. Prefs are here.)

[ voicetesting, be gentle! ]

ooc: ota, including maximoffs shipping!

[not interested in 1, 2, 10]

Matt has come to accept that Danny is sort of a schlub. He doesn't doubt that the way he dresses suits him, and he knows Danny looks fine because Matt's got it on good authority that Danny almost always looks fine, but Matt's never been a jeans or sweatshirts kind of guy.

Except for maybe the odd time he throws on one of Danny's sweatshirts for a couch pity party, but that's because Danny just leaves his clothes lying around. Or he just crams them into the dresser. If Danny weren't so cute, it might drive Matt a little crazy. (And, yes, okay, Matt has a habit of keeping his clothes organized out of necessity, but, really, Danny. Really.)

With nothing else to do today, Matt is meticulously going through Danny's dresser and closet, hanging things up properly and rolling his socks and folding his jeans. Won't it be nice to wear things that aren't wrinkly??

Look, he probably has a suit or two up in the closet that have fewer creases than most, though it's probably still fresh from the dry cleaner or Danny just refuses to put that much effort into his wardrobe when someone isn't dragging him by the ear.

And yesterday was laundry day so of course, things were going to be a little disorganized until he finally clears everything out of the dryer downstairs (Which means two or three trips through the tumble cycle to de-wrinkle before he remembers them in time)

It was kinda easier in K'un-Lun when all he had was two robes a few tunics and breeches that would end up scrubbed down in the river once a week... maybe.

For a guy who's trained to be light on his feet, and deadly silence he's sure a loud wreck when coming home. Shoes kicked off at the door, the clatter of keys and grocery bags on the counter. He doesn't really expect Matt to be here, but the man's laptop case is on the coffee table, his coat up on the rack.

"Matt?" A minute before he's poking his head into the bedroom. "Hey Ma--- Are you folding my socks?"

Danny's just very ... Normal. Matt likes it.

"Hello. And yes." He smirks a bit. "For all the good it'll do." Because he knows in a matter of days, it's going to be chaos again. But when things are chaotic (and when aren't they), sometimes having organized drawers can be calming.

"I also filled your laundry hamper. You're welcome."

He smothers a surprised laugh, stalking over, first to peer around the corner to his hamper that is indeed full again, a mix of henley's and jeans and maybe a nice pair of slacks when he has to stop by the office. Everything has it's usual layer of New York grit on it, but for once there's not a lot of his nightlife showing.

"Thinking about ditching the lawyer gig to become a housekeeper?" Danny strips out of his hoodie and tosses it in the basket's direction, then drops down to sit next to Matt, plucking up a pair of rolled socks.

"How can you tell?" Like everyone he has a handful of brands and colors, and even with sight finding a matching pair was a pain in the ass.

"I can't. Sort of." Matt laughs now, and he shrugs. "The ones I'm not sure about I was leaving until the end. The rest you can sort of ... Feel, I guess. The fibres in the fabric or the raise of the brand. I'm folding them for you, what more do you want from me?"

But judging by Danny's honest question, Matt thinks he's being doing a pretty decent job at matching the pairs.

"And here I was thinking that one of your superpowers was finding matching outfits." And not just because Matt always managed to look impeccable in all of his matching suits while Danny could barely find a tie that matched his own.

He picks up a pair of unmatched socks that look similar, running his fingers over the fabric as if he could determine what Matt meant, honestly they all felt pretty much the same to him. Half the time it was lucky if Danny even bothered wearing socks... or shoes at all.

"Now you know I'm just a fraud."

Matt leans over, nosing into Danny's cheek before pressing a kiss to it. Then he laughs and nuzzles a little at Danny's ear as he pulls away.

"But maybe now you can be a bit of a grown up and finish folding your socks."

[OOC: Yes / No? Can do starter if yes. Can still do starter if no, but it will be a mental one :)]

[ I'll give it a whirl with you, sure. Mental ones are cool, but I'll take a real one. ]

Edited 2018-09-15 16:24 (UTC)

[Would you prefer to play WS or Bucky version?]

[ I will happily play either if the prompt is interesting :) ]

[Apologies in advance if it isn't interesting. And for playing this pile of bagged garbage. Who is on fire. In a dumper. Which is overturned. And also on fire. ~~Hail HYDRA.~~]

[ lmfao it's already interesting. ]

[Blood was sticky when wet and flaky when dry. It somehow managed to find its way into all the look nooks and crannies of clothing, skin, weapons and corners. Killing was the easy part; the clean up was the worst. There were standards, of course, the kind of standards that had been re-imagined over and over again as cleaning products and enzymatic solvents had come into being. Some places didn't have them. Some places didn't need them.

Rumlow wiped the flat of his bowie knife off on his thigh, but it removed as much blood as his clothing transferred back on. He stepped out of the underground bunker into the clear night sky, looking out over the sand dunes but more importantly leaving behind the mess inside. Thankfully his sense of smell was shit, but he could taste the film of blood on the roof of his mouth and covering his tongue. Removing rogue agents from play had never been on his top five list of ways he wanted to spend an evening, but HYDRA had standards that required sacrifices from everyone. If he were asked if this were the life he wanted - standing out covered in blood, sticky and with bodies of people he had worked with hidden away - he'd just say that life was a piece of shit and he made do with what he had.

He finished in one of his fatigue pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes that he kept on the very rare occasions he had inclination to need something to take the edge off. Alcohol was a major no-no in his world, so it was the rare smoke. His wet fingers smeared blood on the filter even as he popped the stick between his lips and worked to light it. A bead of orange rose from the tip followed by smoke, and he took a long deep drag, letting the nicotine calm his extremely stoic nerves.

He left the butt between his lips and sheathed his knife at his hip and checked the time. Ten minutes and then HYDRA's biggest secret was due to meet him here. He had met the Winter Soldier only once before when he had been assigned as a new handler, but their interaction had been limited to Secretary Pierce making the introductions, letting them eye each other up. This was a simple mission, just retrieval to make certain he could handle the situation and if the Winter Soldier decided the guy didn't like him, he'd just end up in the bunker with the other dead agents.

God he hoped it would at least be a good knifing if it went that way. He'd love to see that beast at work, especially if it meant his demise in the end. Probably a big thrill. Definitely marked on his top ten ways to die list. Might even make top three.

He puffed on his cigarette and remained calmly waiting, eventually moving to sit on one of the cinder block walls, hitching his hip and looking casual. The carnage inside was work others might have been proud of, but he just considered it part of the job. Killing for HYDRA was his stamp, his brand, and all the blood covering him was as much a show of that as any scars he might receive in its service.

He lifted a hand to set his forefinger and middle finger around the cigarette and remove it from his lips, blowing out the smoke. He left himself in a vulnerable position, aware the Winter Soldier could come in at any different angle, even just blow his head off, but he was the handler and he figured he'd make an impression of giving zero fucks. He wasn't in awe as some might be, wasn't afraid, and he was determined to make the kind of impression few in HYDRA bothered to. Maybe if he was lucky, there'd be blood to wash off HYDRA's weapon. Two peas in a fucking bloody pod.

So he waited patiently, not bothering to check his watch but always on the look out.]

[OOC: let me know if this doesn't work for you.]

[ If you're early you're on time, and if you're on time you're late. Ten minutes is nothing, the asset is thorough. The asset is prompt, the asset is careful. The asset slit his last handler's throat and they'd been a little upset at him about that, but the correction was worth it to have him replaced with someone who hopefully didn't shit themselves and get in his way when he had a mission to complete. Noila is what they called him, and nobody wept for him.

The pounding of drums grew loud when an objective wasn't finished. Thrums of discordant noise like screaming metal that were put to rest when Noila dropped.

The asset watches this new man from a mile away through the scope of a rifle, his crosshairs trained on the cigarette between his lips. Smoking is a liability; it is light, it is smell, it is visible from a nest, it is a nicotine craving that impairs judgment.

(A man named James Barnes used to smoke, but the asset doesn't know that.)

The new handler is deemed useless, and the asset considers pulling the trigger already. He doesn't, because he has been corrected and given a new command - only if necessary. Can he justify this as necessary? A long and scrutinizing moment, but unfortunately by all parameters it is not necessary to blow this man's head off tonight.

He breaks down his gun and feels nothing about it. Packs it away, and the case hangs from metal fingers as he crosses the sand with two agents at his heels looking uncomfortably between one another. He hasn't spoken a word to either of them, and they've been too chicken shit to say anything to him - even when he pulled out the rifle. There's something concerned in their expressions when they come within visual range of Rumlow; they look between each other and him in a silent conversation uncertain if they should mention the incident to him.

He asset doesn't care.

He stalks past Brock without a greeting or a glance, intent on surveying the mess inside. ]

[Right on time, Rumlow thought as three individuals pulled their way out of the shadows of the dune, and he watched them come on out of the corner of his eye, unconcerned of their approach. He finished his cigarette with two more drags and then butted it out on the wall he was seated upon. He kept the filter, aware it had evidence of his presence here in this place.

The Asset was a beast, all hard edges and shadowed lines, big muscles and that metal arm which he had heard could crush a man's skull without effort. The Soldier was the one that ran the operations, much to everyone's surprise, made assessments, commanded the team and decided based on the orders what needed to be done. He'd heard some people say the guy was mindless, just followed orders, but when they had given each other the hairy eyeball, he had known differently. There was a predator that lurked under that stoic expressionless face.

He stood from the wall as the Asset brushed passed him, and for all intensive purposes, he was just wearing war paint.]

Mind the last step. It's a slippery.

[He said it for the trailing agents as he rounded out behind them and followed them all into the bunker. What remained of four bodies were in the room the left, but the wash of blood trailed all the way to the stairs in thick rivers. It was clotting by now, no big deal. When the fire came, it would wash it all away.

There were four agents of HYDRA inside, all of them considered traitors. Dead now. As ordered. Rumlow had made the suffer of course, as ordered. He wasn't the best at torture, but he could get the job done, and he wasn't afraid to have his hands dirty (or the whole of him) in the process. Their bodies were hanging from hooks pounded into the ceiling like this was just a slaughter house. All four had been disemboweled, all of them had been made to scream as their life blood ran over the floor in rivets. Not his favourite part of the job, but villainizing traitors was a good way to keep the young men and women on the front line not to stray. Brainwashing, easy and subtle helped.

He tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his fatigues, noting how the two agents with the Asset attempted not to step in anything too dubious. Whatever. They would all be worm food eventually. The smell was rising though, and anyone with a weak stomach would likely puke their guts out with the mix of piss, shit and blood.]

Need me to pound two more hooks up, or just one?

[One being for him. Two being for the other agents. His voice was a drawl, but his blood covered lips pulled apart into a smirk. Orders were orders, and he'd go to the extreme. That's what made him a good agent apparently.]

[ Cute fluff, hilariously awkward UST and smut are all ok. ]

[ can be aged up/au'd however ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hair braiding, flower crowns, the works

kylo ren ( STAR WARS ) ota

Clear ☂ DRAMAtical Murder | OTA

Loki | mcu | ota

Leo De Luca | OC | OTA

Talon | The Outpost | ota

Rhys the Company Man | Borderlands | M/M preferred

lorraine warren | the conjuring

wanda maximoff ( mcu )

Clint Barton | MCU or 616

Tony Stark || MCU || ota

Daniel Rand | Marvel MCU/Netflix

rolls on in here, time lines be damned

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Bucky Barnes | MCU

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: mentions of torture, blood and violence

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no subject

Mishal el Bane | D&D OC | M/M

Chihiro Mayuzumi | Kuroko no Basuke | OTA

Jyn Erso | Rogue One | OTA

Nico Acosta | OC | M/F

Evie Montgomery | OC | F/M

Nerdanel || Tolkien

princess aurora/briar rose | maleficent | m/f