This is dedicated to @willjtudor who is a hellhound enthusiast and a lovely person <3 I hope you enjoy reading this, Riya!
on the couch, his legs stretched in front of him and feet resting on a colorful
ottoman; it’s a perfect early day so far full of productivity – he’s got his
tea right next to him, white curls of steam smelling like jasmine and mango.
There are jars from various cabinets floating around him held up by blue sparks,
ingredients labeled on the front in curly font learned and mastered centuries
back, contents of the containers ranging from simple dried rosemary to dragon
There is also music playing low on a vinyl record player he and Alec
picked up from an antique store on their last date, muted tunes straight from
decades ago improving Magnus’ already pleasant mood and making him bob his head
along to the beat as he works. Every other minute, he types something into the
open file on the laptop resting on his thighs, followed by another jar floating
down to eyelevel to be appraised by the warlock. It’s peaceful, quiet, even New
York outside strangely calm for the hour.
“Okay on wild
rose fruit…” Magnus hums to himself, sending the mostly-full container away
with a snap of his fingers as he reaches for his mug to take a sip. The crash
that follows immediately after almost makes him spit it back out, resulting in
a small coughing fit as something large and black races past the couch only to
stop behind a red armchair.
This is a Bucky Barnes x Reader AU. Basically it’s a soulmate au and maybe once I figure out my schedule i’ll make a posting schedule.
Warnings; Death, Angst, Ugh Cuss word I think.
Word Count; 2000
There he stood with you, in an alleyway listening to the drip drop of rainwater on the stone ways. His hand on you waist, a smile on his face. Before either of you could speak a man was in front of you. You looked up to Bucky silently begging him to do something. You quickly pulled your sleeve over your mark, the same mark Bucky has.
“We’ll give you whatever we have,” Bucky’s words were calm, like smooth butter over bread.
“You see the thing is the only thing I want is for you to suffer. You took something from me, something dear to my heart and for that I will do the same.”
You looked up at him, confused your mouth agape as Bucky looked down to you.
Jaylin Rogers has always struggled with being the daughter of Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, mostly because of her lack of freedom. After a failed attempt to do something about this, her life is changes forever when a shadow from her father’s past returns to haunt her.
It isn’t easy, being the daughter of super-soldier Steve Rogers – better known as the legend Captain America. Not at all. First of all, it is never fun to always be “daughter of” and nothing more. You quickly learn to live inside a shadow. Your last name will always be far more important than your first, even though that’s the one identifying you. Second of all, it is weird. I mean, he’s older than many (if not most) grandfathers, yet on bad days he might look barely older than 30. And… let’s just say that as I got older, and the girls around me got older as well, those girls started to notice how “young” he was. Third, I wasn’t super. At least, not nearly as super. Having only half of his genes meant I was maybe a bit faster and stronger than most people without having to work out 24/7, but being healthy, never getting a cold or beating all high school boys in sprint doesn’t make you “cool” or even likable.
They did say I look like him, with my blue eyes and blond hair. Mine are both darker, less… pure. As if my appearance was a confirmation I wasn’t as good as him - proof of being in a constant state of disappointment. As a little girl, you quickly learn the other kids only want to play with you because they want to see your house and the stuff in it. Everyone always seems to look right through you. I can tell from personal experience it is pretty traumatic when other pre-schoolers get mad at you because no one is allowed to come home with you… Let me say: you learn to SHIELD yourself from other people… Sorry, that was bad. But yeah… Admittedly, there are some advantages to being spawn of the Steve Rogers; you never get bad grades on history tests and essays. Oh, you also have lots of non-related, vengeful aunts and uncles. With vengeful I actually mean the Avengers. They are cool, though dad tries to keep me away from that world.
Aunt Nat is amazing, and she’s actually my best friend. She taught me everything I need to know about being a girl, and I think dad still owes her for not having to deal with any of my “woman inconveniences”. Then there’s Sam. He’s one of the nicest guys I know and probably the most normal one, too - even though he regularly soars through the sky with metal wings strapped to his back. He’s a good support in a world that is totally abnormal, despite your father’s attempts to make sure you don’t get caught in his own, strange reality. Sam understands how it feels to live in between those two worlds – the one where they worry about their grades, crushes, jobs and promotions, and the one where you’re in a constant state of vigilance, knowing no one is who they say they are. He’s the most stable part of my life; a sturdy pillar to hold me up. One might think this connection and support would mean I’d be happy to see him when he picked me up after school. In reality it didn’t, because it meant dad was on another mission and hadn’t had time to say as much as “goodbye”.
‘If it isn’t the messenger,’ I grunted, pulling the car door open with a mean swing. Had I had my father’s strength, it would’ve been dangling in my hand, torn loose from its hinges. 'Hello to you too,’ Sam greeted me, leaning undisturbed upon the sleek car. It was a dark blue model, matching the navy blue jacket the driver was wearing today. It fluttered a little in the heavy wind, which also rustled through my ponytail. I slumped down in the passenger seat and shut the door - not too carefully - all the while I kept staring straight ahead. ‘How’s the captain?’ I sneered. Sighing, Sam got in, closing the door behind him. ‘He didn’t know he’d have to go, you know.’ That I knew, very well. Still, I looked out the window with a constant frown on my face. The keys jingled when Sam turned them to start the engine. The car hummed a pleasant, low rumble, and barely made a sound as Sam steered it towards the tranquillity of our home. It would take us while until we would reach the niceness of familiarity. For now, I just watched blankly as teenagers laughed and complained while stepping into their cars, all happy to go back to their ordinary home and ordinary parents. All of them were quickly out of view, replaced by the many other aspects of mundane life. ‘You are such a little beam of sunlight, aren’t you?’ I was aware of Sam’s eyes glancing back and forth between the road and me, those brown eyes always full of worry. If I were to look at him, my angry mask would break, so I kept staring ahead. 'Humph…’ 'That’s all I get? I come here, especially for you, and you don’t even smile. And I do like your smile so much, Jay…’ I could no longer resist; I gave him a sly look and met his kind and teasing expression. I smirked, laced with a genuine – though slightly unwilling – smile. 'That’s my girl,’ Sam smiled back. 'How was school?’ Ugh, school; I rolled my eyes. 'The usual. You know, I don’t see the point in testing how many presidents we can memorise, there aren’t that many.’ I breathed on the window and drew little stars, which vanished within seconds. 'Not everyone has super memory,’ Sam remarked. I grimaced at him. 'I’m nothing compared to dad. Besides, what is the use of knowing all American presidents?’ 'Says the daughter of America’s greatest patriot…’ Sam smiled at the road ahead. 'Exactly.’ I sunk a little deeper down into the seat, so I could only barely catch glimpses of the colours rushing past the car’s windows. ‘I can know.’ I watched as we drove into a quieter lane guarded by high trees, until we arrived at an electronic fence, which opened automatically when the cameras recognised our faces. We lived far away from the city, somewhere surrounded and guarded by tall trees. Here, you never heard the constant noise of traffic, or the never-ending murmur of voices. Only here, I knew true silence, were it not for the evermoving branches with their rustling leaves. 'How was your day?’ I informed, hauling my backpack over one shoulder and closing the car door behind me, still a bit of annoyance packed in the gesture. Together, we made our way to the big, white house, oozing America. Made of wood, with a big porch, two stories and even an attic, perfectly maintained; exactly as you’d expect from Captain America’s home. Soft leaves crackled underneath our feet, giving a lovely, autumny atmosphere to this already idyllic picture. 'Also the usual,’ Sam held the door for me. 'Want waffles?’ I threw my bag on the kitchen table. 'Is that even a question?’ 'What’s the magic word?’ 'Please,’ I grinned. ‘Or else…’
I watched Sam take everything he needed, prepare the batter and begin making the waffles. He did it with the ease of a man who’d done it a hundred times before – which was about right, to be honest. I loved Sam’s cooking. 'Nat’s with him?’ I asked, walking towards the fridge where I took a bottle of glacier water (it had become my favourite after a joke of Natasha and Tony had stuck around). 'Yeah, though they didn’t need me, for some reason.’ Yet again I was amazed at how little Sam seemed to care about that. 'They need you to babysit,’ I chuckled, nudging him as I walked by. 'Even though I don’t need it, I appreciate it.’ Sam glanced back at me. 'I’m happy to hear that.’
'Mmm,’ I hummed a while later as I poured maple syrup all over my waffles, 'you’re such a good mommy bird.’ 'I will take that as a compliment,’ Sam said the moment my phone buzzed.
I’m sorry I had to leave again, so soon after my last mission. Sam promised me he’d take care of you. I trust you will behave.
When I read “I trust you will behave,” I grimaced at the screen. How old did he think I was? It was frustrating; while other people often thought I was quite a bit older than I actually was, my dad still seemed to deem me no more than a foolish little girl. It was especially frustrating because I had always felt different, maybe even older, than most children surrounding me. It had often crossed my mind this might be another result of my father’s genes – how they even interfered with how I grew up, refusing to grant me as much as a normal childhood. 'Sometimes I feel like I should date someone dad really dislikes,’ I mused abruptly. I imagined myself coming home with the biggest jerk I could find and shivered. Sam’s cheeks rose as he took a sip from his large mug filled with strongly smelling coffee. 'I would be worried, if I didn’t know you have more pride than your dad.’ 'Sadly, yes.’
Hey, Natasha… Forgot something…?
I waited. Dad usually send his messages late, but Natasha didn’t; she knew exactly how I felt about their sudden disappearances and the radio silences that usually followed. It’s how I got to hate surprises, as surprise never held a pleasant meaning for me, only that my father had to save the world again.
I’m really sorry I was really busy I’ll make it up when we’re back…?
Even these texted words were hasty. Still, they seemed genuine enough.
Sure Keep him safe, will you?
I was aware It wasn’t much of a message, but it was all she would need; Nat knew me too well to think I’d stay mad at her.
'So,’ Sam said, when I had finished eating, and I had put down my phone, ‘are you going?’ 'Going where?’ Sam raised his eyebrows. 'The gala. I saw the flyers.’ Flyers? Some brightly coloured papers seemed to hang before me. Curly font spelled out the date of a gala (or a masked ball) for all students. Apparently, it was going to be quite fancy. Now I thought about it, I recalled many people at school excitedly discussing the event. 'Oh, that… No, I don’t think so.’ 'Well, it’s more than a month away,’ Sam said confidently, like he was certain I would change my mind. This self-assuredness annoyed me. 'I’m really not going,’ I stressed. 'Definitely not.’ My guardian shrugged. ‘It might be good for you to go out. Be around people your own age.’ It was time to deploy my most efficient method to avoid topics I dislike: walking away. ‘Then let me go out,’ I smirked. ‘And as I am the same age as myself, I’ll be around people my own age, too.’ Before Sam could react, I sprinted to my room.
After changing into my workout clothes – shorts and a tank top –, I put in earbuds and let music fill my ears. Running never failed to calm me down. I didn’t get tired easily, so sometimes I ran for hours on end without realising it. I was happy for the immense woods in which I could jog, without people staring at me or annoying me. So, today, like I had done many times before, I let myself absorb the sound of the music while my mind went blank. My heart beat steadily. My blood flowed rapidly. My feet stomped regularly against the soft dirt. Just running, only running.
Sure, there were some sweets perks to living in it: he had way more freedom than when he was living in the Abyssal Plains, for one. Yeah, he’d pretty much slacked off that whole time, but at least here, he could slack off and not have his douchebag Dad breathing down his neck.
Video games were pretty cool, too. Matthew had dug up some old human gaming console from the mansion’s basement the first week after they’d arrived, and since then, handing his ass to him never got old.
But the rest was kind of a shitshow.
Sam didn’t know much about Human World history either. Unlike James, who for some reason actually liked studying every aspect of human life. Their traditions and cultures were fascinating to him, and he seemed to start on a new research topic every other week. This time it was music. More specifically, a bunch of long-dead musicians.
“Sam, I’d appreciate if you could simply do me this favour,” James yelled tiredly through the open window. Sam didn’t have to see him to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.
🎨 Top 7 sorority canvas & craft letter tracing techniques! 🎨
Q: What are some tips for painting canvases? Every time I try the letters turn out bad, or it looks sloppy… Any ideas?
A: You must TRACE the lettering instead of trying to freehand it. Letters can make a perfectly painted canvas look messy if they are not traced neatly. That’s the problem you are running into. There are several different tracing techniques that can be used on canvases, coolers and other crafted gifts.
✰ Using attractive fonts from your computer is the first step. If you don’t already have fonts you like, use a source like this:
✰ First paint your decorative canvas with the pattern or solid color you desire. Lettering will be the finishing touch on top of your painted design. To get the letter size you need, you may need to print several pieces of paper from your computer, or even one letter per page for large canvases. Use a ruler to space your letters evenly if needed.
🎨 TOP 7 Ways to Paint Sorority Quotes & Letters on Canvas: 🎨
✰ Chocopaper/Carbon Paper Tracing Technique:
From your computer ~ print your font on paper in the correct size for your canvas. This may take more than one sheet of paper, depending on the font size.
Gently tape the font paper to the painted canvas with painter’s tape.
Slip a piece of Chocopaper/carbon paper between the font paper and the canvas.
Place a book under your canvas to keep the surface firm and to keep it from stretching.
Trace the letters with a ball point pen.
Remove the font paper and the transfer paper and there will be a light outline of your lettering left on the canvas. Fill in with acrylic paints.
✰ Tissue/Tracing Paper Technique:
From your computer ~ print your font on paper in the correct size for your canvas.
Place issue paper, or other translucent paper, over the font print-out and trace the letters with a pencil.
Place the tissue paper on the painted canvas and secure it with a few pieces of painter’s tape. Trace the letters with a fine to medium point Sharpie (not a thick Sharpie). The ink will bleed through and create the lines.
Once the outline is traced, remove the tissue and paint the lettering in your desired colors.
✰ Acrylic Letter Technique:
Purchase removable acrylic letters at the craft store.
Place onto the painted canvas and trace around the edges of each letter.
Peel off the acrylic letters and paint within the traced lines.
✰ DIY a Stencil Technique:
Most stenciled letters look like stencils. But you can make a more attractive stencil from your favorite computer font.
From your computer ~ print your font on paper in the correct size for your canvas. A bolder, straight-edged style works best.
Cut out the letters, creating your own stencil.
Lightly tape the stencil over your painted canvas and trace the inside of the letters.
Peel off the stencil and paint within the lettering lines.
✰ Chalk Technique:
From your computer ~ print your font on paper in the correct size for your canvas.
Cover the back of your paper with white chalk by rubbing the side of a piece of chalk over the surface.
Turn the paper over to the printed font side and lightly tape it to your painted canvas.
Place a book under the canvas to keep it firm.
With a ballpoint pen trace over the words.
Remove the paper and there should be a chalk outline of your wording. Fill in the letters with paint.
✰ Pencil Technique:
From your computer ~ print your font on paper in the correct size for your canvas.
Turn the paper over and cover the back of each letter with pencil marks.
Lay the paper font side up/pencil side down onto the painted canvas. But a book behind the canvas center to avoid stretching.
Trace the font lettering with a ballpoint pen. The backside pencil lead will leave a tracing on your canvas.
Remove the paper and fill in your letters with acrylic paint.
If there are any stray pencil lead smudges, you can remove them with a baby wipe once all the paint is dry.
✰ Mod Podge Technique:
From your computer ~ print your font on paper in the correct size for your canvas.
Precisely cut out your letters and Mod Podge them on to your painted canvas.
Once dry, paint over your lettering with acrylic paints. The paper letters stay in place and serve as your template.
This technique is best when using bolder, straight-edged letters that are easier to cut out. If using a curly script font, cut carefully with an x-acto knife.
Mod Podging and painting over letters, images, or logos is also a favorite technique for cooler painting.
Variation: cut out letters in decorative paper and Mod Podge them onto your painted canvas for a collage look. You don’t need to paint over these letters.
A/n: The request was somewhat different, but I think the desired outcome is there :)
In the somewhat short amount of time Credence Barebone had been living in your apartment, he had become very attached to you.
You were one of the very few people he felt completely and utterly safe with and could trust. You were also the first person to show him any kind of affection, something he hadn’t realized he wanted until after he met you.
So majority of your days were spent with you going about your days, and him following behind you.
He was very helpful though, assisting you whenever you asked for his help and doing small tasks like drying the dishes while you washed them or setting the table.
To say the least, Credence had become used to you being a part of his everyday life.
And given his past, he was generally one to worry over small things.
Say if you showed up from work far later than usual, or whenever something out of the usual schedule changed, though he was getting better at it.
However, he wasn’t fond of you coming late lately since it got darker earlier and the cold had been especially unforgiving as Christmas came closer.
“Shouldn’t you wait till morning to go out? It’s gotten dark out.” Credence told you, holding out your coat so you could put it on easier.
You flashed him a small smile of gratitude before nodding your head. “I’m afraid I won’t have the time tomorrow morning, I’m trying to get in more work hours so I won’t have to worry about it over Christmas.”
Credence nodded. “Well, be careful then.”
You smiled at him, reaching up and pecking his cheek before opening the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
Credence watched you leave, closing the door behind you. You never exactly told him where you were going, telling him it was top secret and he wasn’t allowed to know yet.
Being an auror only aided you in keeping the secret well hidden from him.
Which of course, only peaked his curiosity since you never usually kept secrets from him.
However he could never dwell on it for so long sine you usually kept your promise and came home the next hour or so.
“Why don’t you head off to bed? I still have some of these cards to finish.” You said, looking over your glasses to look at Credence, who was reading by the tree.
“Will you be alright up by youself?” He asked, closing his book and placing it on the sidetable.
Credence was always concerned about your wellbeing, questions like these were common and he asked you some variation of it almost ten times a day, although you found it somewhat endearing.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ve seen my fair share of late evenings.” You encouraged, removing your glasses to look up at him with a smile. “Besides you need your rest, it’s Christmas tomorrow.”
The corner of his mouth turned to smile ever so slightly as he nodded. “Don’t stay up too late.”
When Credence woke up the next morning, he was somewhat surprised that when he entered the parlor, you were nowhere to be seen.
You almost always woke up before him, running around the kitchen trying to get a cup of tea made before you left for work or somewhere else.
But now it was dead silent, everything the same except under there were several brightly wrapped gifts.
Credence walked over to your bedroom door, reaching up to knock on it but it pushed open whenever his knuckles barely tapped it.
He looked inside, finding your bed empty but made, and all the lights off.
Now truly confused, and on the slight verge of panic, he left your room and noticed your coat was missing from the rack.
He then went over to the window, squinting whenever the bright light hit his eyes.
Credence jumped slightly whenever the front door closed, he turned and saw you standing there.
“Where did you go?” He asked, walking up to you and pulling you into a hug.
“Oh I’m sorry, I had to mail my Christmas cards.” You said, returning the embrace for a few moments before pulling away.
“Next time I’ll leave a note, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You said, turning to smile at him.
“It’s fine.” Credence said, looking at you with a small smile, happy to know you were alright.
“Now!” You said enthusiastically with a clap of your hands. “I have a gift for you.” You announced, taking a box from under the tree and handing it to him.
“Well I have more for you, but you’ll have to wait until everyone shows up later to open those ones, but here’s one for the road.” You said with a smile.
Credence looked down at the small box and his head tilting slightly. “It’s for me?”
You nodded. “Of course, I picked it out especially for you.”
He took it from your hands, and carefully undid the wrapping paper before finding a small velvet box, which upon opening revealed a silver pocketwatch.
“I wasn’t entirely sure what to get you, but I saw this and it reminded me of you.” You explained, taking the paper from him and setting it aside.
It was an ordinary pocketwatch, the front of it was blank but extremely shiny.
“But! That’s not the best part.” You said, pressing the top button and as it flipped open he saw the letters “C. B.” engraved into it in curly font.
You looked up at him but the smile fell from your face when you saw his somewhat sad expression.
“You hate it don’t you? I had a feeling it would be to flashy, but I couldn’t help feeling you might like it and-” Your stream on consciousness was interrupted whenever he pulled you into another hug.
“I don’t hate it, it’s the nicest thing I’ve ever gotten from someone.” He said quietly, pulling away to look at you. “I just didn’t get you anything.”
You let out a breath of relief, happy to know he liked it. “Don’t worry about that.” You said encouragingly. “Knowing you liked it is a gift enough, I promise.”
Credence smiled, looking down at the watch again. “I really do like it.”
Regardless of your words, every year after that Credence always bought you a gift, constantly saying you deserved them far more than he did.
Tony whistled, taking a solitary tour of Steve’s apartment. It was an old building, with an old staircase, but Steve’s home was new and bright. It was a lot more spacious than Tony had ever imagined, and was a lot tidier than his living space was. Tony sat on the cat’s furless couch and bounced a bit, catching the new TV set with his eye. Not as new as his was, that is, but surprisingly new for a guy like Steve.
“Your apartment is big!” Tony stated the obvious, yelling in the direction of kitchen area so the other man could hear him.
“You sound surprised,” Steve answered back, walking out of the kitchen and handing the brunet a second glass with ice tea. He had no proper coffee machine, so he wouldn’t risk offering his boyfriend a cup.
“Slightly,” Tony grinned, seeping his beverage. Refreshing and sweet. Like Steve. “You could fit like three cats in here!”
Steve sat next to the Tony, looking amused. “Do you always measure everything in cats?” he asked with a friendly tease.
“So wait wait whoa,” Al asks as Alfred is busy kissing his neck, “You guys argued dibs over me?”
Alfred freezes and turns bright red, and Matt hides his face against Matthew’s hair. They’d had quite an exciting night together, and Al must admit he’s actually rather worn out. The others are used to pleasing multiple partners, but Al had never quite realized how physically strenuous having sex with many people at once would be.
Though he does look forward to building up his stamina.
Matthew is the one that responds to his question. “Well, Alfred and Matt argued over who got to fuck you first. I was smart and decided I just wanted to be the first to see, uhh, how big you are.”
The honesty there makes Al grin and he moves in to sweetly kiss Matthew’s lips. “And so you did~” he says. “I guess Alfred won the calling dibs on my ass thing?”
Here Alfred pinches him and says, “Hey now, we just had awesome sex so can we like just relax and kiss and stuff without teasing? I want more snuggles.”
Al lets out a long suffering sigh. “You’re just saying that because you and Matt are the easiest to tease right now.”
Matt reaches over Matthew to cup Al’s cheek, and he offers him one of those small sweet smiles. “Let’s snuggle for now,” he says softly and he leans over Matthew to give Al one of the gentlest, most heart-warming kisses of the night.
How can Al say no to that? He relaxes into their arms for a good night’s rest with the promise of breakfast in bed in the morning.
Welcome to the wonderful world of Spangaloo Publishing, purveyors of some of the worst romance covers I’ve ever seen. Not only is the artwork badly chosen and horribly photoshopped, the curly font used for the title and author’s name would be illegible even if it didn’t blend into the background. Many of Therese A Kraemer’s novels have a time travel/science fiction element but they’re mostly romance (and mostly unedited).
Exhibit One - "Keeper of Her Love". Sexy 21st century nurse suddenly appears on a Civil War battlefield but the surgeon saws away regardless.
Editor’s note: Giant nurse and two historical reenactor minions perform terrible magic show against crowded backdrop.
it is a federally punishable crime to send me snapchat videos filmed with an android. even worse is when the text is that curly font that looks like it was stolen from a preschool syllabus. and ON TOP of all of these aforementioned heinous offenses…. i know none of these people and idk how they are gaining access to my snapchat. stop trying to kill me please
Dean huffed, turning the page of his book, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m reading.”
“By the window like a lovesick teenage girl in a romantic comedy,” Sam finished, chuckling to himself. Apparently he thought he was hilarious because he continued. “…Starring you as the beautiful but naive protagonist and Mr. Hot-Postman over there as your love interest” Sam nodded to the mailman opening a mailbox to drop a letter inside. “The whole first part of the movie will be you pining and sulking in the corner when he doesn’t notice you, but then after a chance encounter and a couple misunderstandings, he falls head over heels in looooove.”
the only snaps I ever receive are from strangers and it’s always an android video of them watching anime or a screenshot of anime and they type over it with the curly looking font :( please stop subjecting me to this Hell