Summary: A young man and a young woman run into one another on a Sunday morning at a coffee shop, both of them heartbroken, and rediscover what it means to love and be loved.
Bucky x Reader
Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this one for a bit. It’s basically the feel-good romance no one ever expected me to write (me included)
Bucky used to love Sunday mornings. They were meant for sleeping in, for curling against the soft, tender body that slept next to him.
They’d had five years of Sunday mornings, of her soft sighs in his ear as she stirred from her sleep, bright green eyes blinking sleepily up at him as he kissed her plush, pink lips. Five years of Sunday mornings, of making coffee in a pair of boxers; of her arms wrapping around him from behind, a soft cheek against his bare back. Five years of Sunday mornings, of sitting at the breakfast bar in their pajamas, her thumb wiping jelly off the corners of his mouth.
I drew my first impression of him before but today I asked what were there first impressions of me. When I first met my boyfriend, he was wearing black scarf and black jacket, so he looked like a bear.🐻
is the official art you did for rick riordan the first time you drew will? If so then, dang, im impressed
Mmm I think it’s the first time I posted him and the first time I got satisfied with his design:”D I tried to draw him once or twice before but I failed utterly and he just didn’t give me the Will vibe.
A/N: I’ve got a part two, but I’m going to need you to tell me if you want it. This is just a little something that’s been in the works for at least a month, and I figured it was high time to put it out there. Gif is not mine, and feedback is greatly appreciated as usual. If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know.
Ah, soulmates. True love smiled upon by the stars themselves. Every person had a mark matching their soulmate’s. The mark could appear anywhere on one’s body, in any color, or any shape, but it always matched what their soulmate had - color, location, shape, everything. And everyone had a soulmate. Except for me.
I’d been born without my soul mark. This terrified my mother on the day of my birth as the nurses had almost frantically tried to find something that could even possibly be a soul mark. There had been nothing to find.
When it turned out that I had powers - the ability to command the elements - in addition to a concerning propensity for all forms of weaponry and an uncanny gift for reading people’s body language… let’s just say that she and my father were afraid for me. Afraid that people would exploit me for my lack of connection as well as my powers.
—One of these nights 💔touken&blackreaper headcanon
summary:Months after turning into the Black Reaper, Kaneki makes Touka a phone call.
I think I’m gonna keep doing this for a while now, “mini fics” for certain headcanons that I don’t feel like writing as a 3,000(or more) word fic due to many reasons (lack of inspiration, the plot not being strong enough for a long fic, things I wanna keep short..) all of these mini fics (that will reach their limit with 1,000 words approx..) will end with “headcanon” at the end of the title… you can read the rest of these headcanons // mini fics series here, and I will add the link on my fics page as well. These headcanons will have a very poor and light writing, so don’t expect the greatest prose of all—hence the whole point of being just a headcanon, haha. You can also request headcanons/mini fics for me to write this way, it’s way easier and faster(&less frustrating) than writing a whole one-shot :’) remember, these are not full fics like most of my writings, so there might be some writing differences!
enjoy this little thing!
It’s been months since Haise went to :re.
Actually, almost a year.
Yes, Touka kept the count. It would have been embarrassing to admit it years ago when she was still a teenager, when proud was like a shield that would protect her lonely and wrinkled heart from people obsessed with abandon her. But she’s not proud anymore, and her arms feel way too tired to keep holding the shield against her chest when her heart has been already torn apart so many times. She has lost so much already, that sometimes she feels that there’s nothing else to lose anymore. So it won’t matter… it won’t matter.
She counts the days, the minutes, the hours, as she feels Yomo’s gaze upon her back, parting his lips to say something (something that she fears it may sound like “he’s not coming back”) but quickly shouting them again, not finding the courage to speak. She stares behind the window, waiting for something, always waiting for something… but nothing appears.
Last time Haise visited :re, he decided that he would be a bold guy. Girls like bold guys, and if he really wanted for that pretty waitress to set his eyes on him and actually see him, instead of seeing something else (he had that vague impression sometimes), he decided to give a small but decided first step. When she turned around towards the counter after delivering him his coffee, he took a paper and a pen and with shaky hands he wrote a simple but important question.
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of blood, eventual smut
Summary: You’re Jimin’s Taker, assigned to watch over him until just the right moment. When that moment comes, you’re instructed to kill him. But what happens if he lives?
Lmao I’m on a roll and posting two parts of two different fics in one night. It’s a Christmas miracle. Anyway, here is the first chapter of this Jimin fic. :’)
For @inktae and her consistantly painfully beautiful fics.
Some may say that life is far more lonely and tiresome than death. In life you face loss, and tragedy, and betrayal, and heartbreak. You build a life and knit a name for yourself out of the yarn made from circumstance and opportunity, only to have an Angel of Death slither behind you and unravel everything with just a light tug on a single thread exposed at the seam–your entire being slowly unravelling under their fingertips. In life, all of your work and suffering is for naught, because your Angel of Death is always a breath away.
Some may say that life is more lonely, but the Angels of Death begs to differ.
Contrary to popular belief, the Death Angels are not heartless and cold demons sent to steal your essence as you draw your last breath. Oh, no, they’re hauntingly beautiful and immeasurably troubled by the weight of their duties. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that they’re probably the most empathetic and caring of all the angels. There’s a whole fleet of them–thousands of Death Angels assigned to care after their Chosen until their End Day, all of them kind and caring individuals, though some are more attached to their Chosen than others.
They see everyone in their weakest moments, our true selves appearing as the light slowly leaves our eyes. They know the cowards from the bravest souls. The heaviness that their supernatural duty entails makes it nearly impossible for them to spread their silky black wings and soar to their next Chosen. The job is tedious and painstaking, having to watch their Chosen for the entirety of their lives, until just the perfect moment when they’re designated to be taken.
None of them enjoy stealing humans away from their lives on Earth. Honestly, who would? Hearing them beg and plead for their lives back after their spirits leave their bodies and see the Earthly shells lying motionless and unattended. For the first hundred years or so of being an Angel of Death it might as well be torture, growing so close to their Chosen only to separate them from everything and everyone they love.
Everyone is assigned a Death Angel. A Taker. They have all of your information–your name, blood type, the way you’re meant to die and when. You don’t always see them, and if you do, you probably don’t realize that they’re your Taker. But they’re always there, that tiny inkling inside your mind telling you that something is dangerous. Rerouting your way home if they spot someone in your path who is unhinged with a gun and the intention to kill.
Takers do the unthinkable–even if it means being painted as the villain–just to keep the world turning. Because an Angel of Death is an angel nonetheless.
Oh boy, here we go! What a finale! I’m so so excited for next season (looks like we’re finally gonna see Homeworld! And learn a bunch of stuff!) Let’s go bit by bit so I don’t miss anything (or, well, to reduce the amount of stuff I forget I wanted to mention, haha), so this’ll be a little long
It’s funny that Steven is eagerly awaiting new pants when he always wears the same pants. And also it’s really sweet of Amethyst to offer to hang out by the mailbox for the delivery so Steven can go do something else to take his mind off it.
Also also, it’s just. Way Too Cute how Garnet and Pearl are making a sandcastle for crabs. Like, not for Steven’s benefit, since he wasn’t there, but just for their own enjoyment. They’re so enthused about it and Pearl excitedly shows it off to Steven and Amethyst and it’s just. I can’t help thinking about how these are ancient alien warriors just getting so much joy from building a tiny castle for crabs. It’s so cute. I love them so much.
I like to think Onion had brought Sour Cream to meet his seasonal friends and that’s why Sour Cream already knows about that spot in the woods. Also, like, we already knew Sadie was an adult but I don’t think the show has really stated it plainly, just implied (specifically in “Sadie’s Song” when they were talking about her birthdays), so that’s cool.
I liked the bit where they all attempt to draw Aquamarine based on Steven’s description. I love knowing how characters would draw, I think it says a lot about their personality.
Connie - Anime-style, ‘cause of course, with guidelines and asymmetrical eye sizes (just, totally how I drew at that age) Amethyst - “going for a feeling” impression not really accurate but still with all the important details (wings, eye gem), also it appears to be a dog Pearl - Says she can’t draw but drew a very detailed drawing that is also way overdramatic and fancy. Also she’s the only one who signed her drawing Garnet - Drew herself, because she loves herself. Can’t argue with that and also it’s an adorable self-portrait.
I quite like Aquamarine and Topaz, I was thinking we’d probably see a small Gem like Aquamarine soon, since they kinda teased that in “Adventures in Light Distortion”. I’m curious what the specific role of an Aquamarine is, since Pearl is very freaked out by the mention of one and comments that she and Topaz must’ve been specifically sent by the Diamonds. Plus, that wand of hers is really powerful. Also she makes mention that she has perfect memory, which is potentially significant. Topaz is interesting, the way she sticks the humans in her fusion is mildly horrifying. I like her ‘headphone’ style gems, which also kinda look like the warp pads?
I think calling back to “Marble Madness” when Steven made the list of humans was really clever and I gotta give props to the crew for that! Also I loved seeing Alexandrite again, even if it was just for a little bit
Anyways, yea, super super excited for the next episodes! I reckon we’re gonna learn a whole lot from this adventure, about Gems, about Homeworld, and about Rose Quartz. Can’t wait!
so here’s maybe an idea if you want: like reader gets to be a part of the guardians of the galaxy somehow idk how and then yondu comes along for a mission and sees her fighting and is like damn who is that and they end up fighting together during the fight and they’re awesome and idk what happens after that it’s up to you but yea - Anon
Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed chapter two because things are about to get intense for chapter three. I hope the cliff hangar was good enough. Just a reminder that I love you all and that you have a wonderful day. I posted a Masterlist last night and you can find all my other works on there :)
Description: Bucky sees all the damage he’s physically done to you because of what H.Y.D.R.A. did to his mind.
Warnings: Violence, cursing, angst.
“I love you F/N. I never thought I would be able to love somebody, but I love you. And I never want to lose you. Never.”
“And I love you. I always have and always will.”
The Russian man threw the notebook down, smirking. From your chair in the corner, you could see the scowl on Bucky’s face, but his hands were shaking. He was trying to be brave, but he was terrified. Your tears were streaming down your cheeks and every breath hurt like hell. You had been screaming out for Bucky, trying to calm him down in anyway possible. The pain in your ribs was excruciating, and you began to choke on your sobs, your throat burning.
“Soldier, welcome home.” The man’s accent was so thick you could barely understand what he was saying.
“I am not your soldier. And this- this is not my home, you fucking bastard.” Bucky thrashed against his restraints. A heated anger began to burn inside his chest.
The agent just scoffed at him, then turned his full attention to you.
“And I’m guessing your the American, scum agent that knocked out most of my men.” His back was to the light and his enormous shadow loomed over you, obscuring his features. “Hmm,” he tilted your head up towards him with his index finger, letting him see your flushed, tear-stained face, “but with your skills, you could be a wonderful soldier. for H.Y.D.R.A.” He chuckled lightly.
“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Bucky growled, his chest heaving.
The unknown man circled you, like a vulture. He began to twist a curl of your hair, suddenly grabbing a fistful, yanking your head back. You cried in pain; hot tears were stinging your eyes.
“Stop it! Get away from her!” Bucky was thrashing against the table, screaming, but it wasn’t moving one inch. You realized this table was specialized to keep him restrained.
“Ah, so I found your weakness, зимний солдат.” The man had a wide grin on his face. “You love her, don’t you?” He released your hair and walked back to the table in the middle of the room. The pain from your head began to subside, but the waves of pain every time you breathed were still prominently there.
“I swear to God, if you lay another hand on her I will kill you.” The words were seething between Bucky’s clenched teeth.
By the way this was going, you didn’t know if you were going to be leaving alive or in a body bag. Or worse, you would sticking around as another one of their super soldiers.
“Bucky, look at me,” you croaked. Every word burned your throat and sent screams on pain through your body. He turned his head to you, eyebrows stitched together with hurt and worry. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. I always have and always will.”
“F/N, don’t say it like this is goodbye. Don’t do this.” Tears were making streaks down Bucky’s beautiful face. You gave him the best smile you could despite the immense pain. You didn’t know what could happen next, you and him were completely helpless. They took all of your weapons, even the extendable blade that was embedded into your uniform. He had a better chance of making it out, he was a super soldier after all. Though, your luck was running thin. Your chances of getting out of there in one piece were slimmer than ever.
“Enough of this.” The man spoke clearly this time, his anger and annoyance was building in his voice. “Let’s get started now солдат. Shall we?” He motioned towards the leather notebook, the star matching the one that used the be on Bucky’s vibranium arm. The agent picked it up, his eyes boring holes into him.
Taking his sweet time, he opened it, flipping through the pages. He was going to enjoy watching both of you suffer.
“Bucky. Baby. Stay strong. Fight it, I know you can. Focus on something. Focus on me or Steve or us.” Your words brought more tears to your eyes, it was breaking your heart. “I love you. It’s going to be alright.”
As you were talking him down, Bucky listened to the sound of your voice and closed his eyes.
“Catch me if you can!” You yelled, caught up in a fit of laughter. You were wearing a yellow sundress, weaving in and out of the trees.
“I’m coming after you!” Bucky chuckled, a huge smile was plastered on his face. He finally caught up to you, hugging your waist from behind. You both were breathless, falling to the ground, laughing.
He opened them. Worry was knitted on his face. He had to keep these memories. He had to hold onto them, and maybe, just maybe his mind wouldn’t succumb to the pain and brainwashing.
“Тоска..” The agent bellowed, letting the word echo through the room. Bucky’s metal arm twitched. He had to fight this. He couldn’t leave you. You were the one person he had, the one person he loved.
“Ржавый..” Something began to click in Bucky’s head. The world began to spin around him.
“Stop!” You were screaming as you saw the love of your life being ripped apart right in front of you. “Baby, no. Don’t forget me. Don’t forget us.” You were choking on air and tears, your vision blurry.
The man wielding the notebook began to speak louder and faster, realizing that you could jeopardize the activation.
“Печь, рассвет, семнадцать.” Bucky was thrashing around, trying to stay grounded. It was becoming harder and harder with every second. He was going in and out of his own, controlled mind. He tried focusing on another memory.
He rolled over, seeing your beautiful body laying beside him. This was the first morning you ever woke up together. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you on the shoulder. A corner of your mouth curled up in reaction.
“Good morning my love.” He spoke, breathing the words into your neck.
“Good morning.” You groaned, placing a sweet kiss on his lips.
He smiled. “God, I love you so much F/N L/N.”
Thinking about you brought him back a little, making it easier to think clearly.
“Доброкачественный, девять, возвращение на родину.” The man was grinning from ear to ear as he saw you struggling against your restraints.
You couldn’t run to him, bring him back down from this. Your croaked whispers were being drowned out by the echoing voice of the man who was torturing Bucky, right in front of you.
“Один.” The room was booming with noise. Bucky’s screams gave you a sinking feeling and you felt yourself falling apart.
He couldn’t fight it any longer. He kept recalling memories of you, repeating his name and your name in his head, hoping he wouldn’t forget it. Searing pain crept up to the front of his head, making his vision go blurry. Tears were streaming down his face, he was covered in sweat.
He looked at you one last time, “F/N, forgive me.”
“грузовой вагон.” The agent stood still, waiting for a reaction from Bucky. His head was drooped forward, the long black strands covering his facial features.
“Солдат?” He was eager for a response.
Bucky’s head slowly drew up. “Готов выполнить.”
The agent began to laugh hysterically. “Impressive, no?” He looked at you, the life drained out of you.
“Солдат, kill her.” He smirked down at you, watching you as you remained stoic. The only thing that he could see were the silent tears rolling down your cheeks. He unlocked Bucky’s restraints and he immediantly got up, walking briskly towards you.
“Bucky, I know you’re in there somewhere. I want you to know that I love you.” Your voice was scratchy and whispered.
“Who the hell is that?” He asked you, pure evil was the only thing found in his once loving, blue eyes. Before you could say anything his metal fist came into contact with your jaw. An instant spike of pain emerged, you could taste blood in your mouth.
“I don’t blame you for this. This isn’t you.” You whimpered, the pain in your jaw made it incredibly painful to speak. Were you afraid of him? No. What you were afraid that the real Bucky, your Bucky, would never come back.
One, two, three punches landed in your other ribcage, gut, and face.
You were spitting out blood. “It’s okay baby. I’m not afraid. I’ll always love you.” Your vision became spotty as pain coursed through every inch and every nerve of your body.
“Shut up!” The Winter Soldier was all that was left standing in front of you. He began to deliver a series of punches all over you body, making your head spin. You didn’t scream or yell. You took it, every single punch.
Blood was streaming down you face, arms, and it began to seep through your clothes on your stomach.
You couldn’t focus on anything as your body became numb. He kept punching you, but you could no longer feel it.
A blanket of white overtook your vision as you whispered, “I love you Bucky,” one last time before you collapsed in your chair, your world fading to black.
How was it? Leave me some feedback! You can message me anything! Let me know what you thought, how it made you feel, what you think is going to happen next :) If you want to be notified when I post the next chapter, let me know and I’ll add you to the taglist
AU where Dean and Luna formed an Art Club at Hogwarts
Luna drew a lot of stuff, and she particularly loved drawing the nature - all kinds of plants and animals and different scenery. Sometimes she’d sit by the lawn beside the great lake to draw and sometimes she’d be just outside the Forbidden Forest.
Dean liked to draw many things, but his specialty was drawing people, sometimes a single person and sometimes a bunch of people playing Quidditch or having a party. Of course, he particularly liked drawing Seamus. (Preferably naked.)
In fact, for quite some time Ron was annoyed to see Seamus naked in their dorm every time he walked in, while Dean sat on his bed, capturing every detail of Seamus’s body.
He eventually got used to it.
Harry, on the other hand, never noticed because he was usually too busy complaining about what Draco Malfoy just did or stalking Draco Malfoy on the Marauder’s Map or simply thinking about Draco Malfoy.
One day Luna saw Dean drawing in the Great Hall and soon they began discussing all kinds of drawing techniques together enthusiastically.
After a while, they started drawing together often and sometimes tried the other one’s specialty. Some other students saw them and got interested, too, and soon they formed a club.
They didn’t just draw on papers, but also started painting and decorating the tables of the Great Hall (McGonagall was annoyed but Dumbledore praised their creativity.)
Cho Chang was also a member of the club and she was very scientific about her drawing, whereas Luna was more free-styled but everyone thought both types looked beautiful.
Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbot didn’t draw but they were good with making small sculptures - they made different stuff from the pictures Colin and Dennis Creevey provided, and also a self-made wizarding chess set (Ron loved it).
Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins made creative packages for the prank products they planned to sell.
At first there weren’t any Slytherins in the club, but one day when Luna was drawing the thestrals, she met Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini there. They were very interested to hear about the club.
Theo told Luna that Greg Goyle drew too - he drew comics in the Slytherin common room and he was pretty good at it. Theo also showed Luna a 4-square-comic Greg once drew, it showed the process of Draco Malfoy climbing a tree to impress Harry Potter. Greg gave Theo the comic as a present because apparently he thought he already had too many comic-drawings of Draco talking about Potter.
Theo encouraged Greg to join the club because he knew Greg’s parents always told him he wasn’t good at anything, and Theo thought this would be a good opportunity for Greg to do what he was good at and what he also enjoyed and that his parents were wrong.
Greg was reluctant at first because there were muggleborns in the club, but he eventually got convinced and he soon found out the muggleborns were actually quite nice and not so bad, unlike what his parents always said.
Theo and Blaise also stayed, because Theo got interested in the muggle cameras the Creevey brother brought with them, and Blaise announced that “I think I’m allowed to join because I’m basically a piece of artwork don’t you think?”
Some girls giggled and blushed but Ginny Weasley got annoyed and said aloud, “No.”
Thus began a lengthy few months of Blaise trying to prove to Ginny she was wrong and somehow half an year later they became a piece of artwork together in most people’s eyes.
The Art Club became very famous throughout Hogwarts and most people who didn’t join know about it too, perhaps except for Draco and Harry who continued to focus solely on each other and ignore everything else.