#( soul in the sky | headcanons | sam )

[edgedglorya]

new tags.

[salvagedsouls]

a compilation of some fun facts around riley & sam's marriage:

they had been talking about the possibility long before DADT got repealed, given that they've known each other for about 15 years and had been together for 14 of them

sam & riley legally marry on friday, 3 november 2011 while between EXO missions; it's witnessed by sam's parents & sister, and riley's brother & mom

a full ceremony was held for friends & family on saturday, 14 january 2012 in riley's mom's backyard (its a very large backyard, she has a full estate)

there were about 130 guests including immediate family and the wedding party, and the event "officially" ran from about 1300/1pm est to 1800/6pm est, with the wedding party eventually taking both grooms along with open invitation to an afterparty that arguably ended somewhere around dawn the next day

sam wore a white cream suit, riley wore a blue suit, and they both had little pocket squares & ties that matched the other

sam's best man was a mutual college friend of theirs (charlie dean) and riley's was his younger brother dj. riley agreed to be the one to walk down the aisle and was escorted by his dad; sam even managed to not cry until after they finished vows, though riley tried valiantly to just make it down the aisle. both of them were Got by their respective best man speeches, and speeches from their parents

riley SMASHED cake on sam's face, despite sam being very gentlemanly and only dabbing frosting on riley's face, but it was all in good fun and the pictures turned out amazing

their main flowers were red carnations & white orchids, with some peacock amaryllis for Dramatic Effect because they didn't want roses damn it

the wedding favors were a mixed bag! a firestarter pinecone with engraved boxes to commemorate the date, mulling spices that are the same blend used for the reception's mulled cider (non-alcoholic), and cocoa mix jars with a label on side and their names on the other side pressed into the glass

their first dance was to kelly clarkson's 'a moment like this' and is their declared song. their very very unofficial song is faith hill's 'this kiss' and riley could NOT stop giggling when it played

about three months after the wedding (again between EXO missions) they found and closed on an acceptable house as a late wedding gift to themselves, having started to look shortly after getting engaged. they were also making plans to get out of the EXO program, with hopes to either transfer out or take an early retirement

note: pics for the flowers & favors are under the cut !!

[visualheresy]

Ship Headcanons - Ada/Leon

Thank you for the tag, @lordbhreanna!!

Gives forehead/nose kisses: Leon in his softer moments would do this, or Ada may sneak a forehead kiss while Leon is asleep. He's very affectionate with her. Sometimes Ada has to ask him to ease off a little or she gets overwhelmed.

Gets jealous the most: Leon, but it’s never that serious. I headcanon them in an open relationship post re4r.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive: Ada.

Takes care of on sick days: Both. I’d say this is one of those times when Ada can express her care and tenderness for Leon, by looking after him.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: Ada, if Leon is being gloomy. Unless it’s off season and cold, then they might settle for walking alongside the surf together in their winter coats.

Gives unprompted massages: Fortunately for Leon, Ada has a skill for this.

Drives/rides shotgun: Depends. If they’re pressed for time, Ada drives; out of the two, she is the one with a keener sense of direction, and she’s faster on the road. "You can be the DJ, Leon."

Brings the other lunch at work: I can see Leon giving Ada a little something for the road, when they’re older.

Has the better parental relationship: Ada because she has none (out of choice) and the closest she will get to raising another living thing is a happy little vegetable garden in her 40s.

Tries to start role-playing in bed: Ada would start a conversation about this. She is more open about what she likes, whereas Leon has been playing one role in the bedroom for so long that he *thinks* it's what he likes until Ada gently breaks through to him. Admittedly this takes a lot of patience and good humor on her part. I don’t know. Could be hot to write haha. Maybe for my drabble fic?

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: Leon with his love for soul music, jazz and 50s crooning oldies. Picture them dancing in the darkest part of the morning, and he’s holding her, fingertip to fingertip, and they’re quietly swaying to Etta James singing “Stormy Weather.” The alcohol makes it feel like they’re outside time for a bit. As for Ada, I doubt she would get that drunk and vulnerable so soon. But let’s say she does. She drinks until a dreamy slowness takes over her body, and her hand movements are grand and delicate and sweeping the sky fully. Do you know this scene from the film Burning? I imagine it’s like that. “Summertime” by Sam Cooke would be perfect for Ada.

Still cries watching Titanic: Leon, probably. He would have to be drunk. Sleepy drunk. Maybe it’s the scene leading up to the scientists’ interview with Rose (scientists or treasure hunters? lol idk) when a little robot is sent to investigate the Titanic’s ruins underwater. Leaning into the image through tears, Rose follows the slow, drifting passage the camera makes through each darkened room, sifting through debris and gradually illuminating the wreckage. It’s heartbreaking to watch the sorrowful recognition on her face as the camera pushes on. There isn’t much visibility down there. No sound either. But you can hear, in the depths of Rose’s memory, music fading in and out of time, and the ship’s decayed and empty corridors flash to a night when it was once full, rippling with light and so much life. I really do believe places hold the imprint of people (yes, even music) inside. I think Leon would too.

Firmly believes in couples costumes: Ada. She would be dazzling as Trinity from The Matrix.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: Ada again!

Makes the other eat breakfast: Leon cooks if there’s enough time in the morning.

Remembers anniversaries: What anniversary lol? If they’re celebrating anything, it would be Wesker’s death.

Brings up having kids: Out of curiosity, Ada. She likes hearing him talk about these things, not necessarily kids, but a possible life, one that exists in the space between imagination and the circumstances of their reality, a life expanded by a conversation they return to again and again for comfort. In an alternate timeline, she wonders, who would they be? For Ada, it’s this mutual dreaming that borders something like magic. It is a place where she finds joy, ordinary and wondrous.

I love writing into this space when it comes to these two partly because such ordinary moments of joy aren’t promised for them. Nothing in their world is. And I don’t think that changes until years after Lanshiang when Ada begins to hope, truly allows herself to hope, for a gentler way of living (one of my unpublished WIPs is about this). It begins with Leon sharing one story of a possible world and she tells him another. Tell me about the things you love. And why.

Tagging @frozen-fountain, @pink-strawberry-kissess and anyone else who wants to do this. It can be any ship you want!

if you found this by accident, hello! I'm a small writer with a few aeon fics on AO3. I know it's not much :) but I’m happy you’re here!

[vixynntranzity]

Lifeless Lucy HCs?

YASSS, ONE OF MY DEAR CHILDREN!!!

Lifeless Lucy Headcanons!

she is 11 years old.

She is a super great older sister figure, especially to Lily and the pour souls whom had fallen to the same fate as Lucy herself.

She is very overprotective and paranoid. She doesn’t trust adults most of the time and will watch their every move when around them.

her adoptive family members are: Lily Kennett (younger sister), Brokensoul (younger sister), Ying and Yang (Older sisters), Nurse Irena (Mother) and some more.

She is one of the many pastas whom got their lives destroyed on their birthday.

She is super depressed about the fact she ‘died’ on her birthday. But whenever that day comes around, her friends and family’ll cheer her up!

She doesn’t like Jeff…Why? Nobody really knows. Most pastas just think it’s cause Jeff is a dickhead and likes annoying people.

She knows Candy Pop, Cause the guy’ll usually just hang out around the kids a lot because they lure in free prey (Dumbass adults.).

She is a ghoul, more specifically a Banshee. She has the ability to burst people’s eardrums and even make them go insane. Whenever she is in this ‘state’ of form, she has sharp claws, pale skeleton like skin, black eye sockets with glowing blue pupils, no nose like a skeleton, and sharp fangs. Her hair is also crazy like this. (Picture will be at bottom).

She will beat the absolute fuck out of anyone who even tries to touch her siblings (mostly Lily.)

yes, Lily and Lucy are the closest siblings you’ll ever meet. They are like synchronized twins that almost never part from each other.

she is super strong when angry.

she is a quiet but somewhat peaceful girl most of the time.

Speaking of her powers and abilities, she can appear and re-appear whenever or wherever, float, change ‘opacity’, ghost walk/phase through things, move and touch physical things, be invisible, use telepathic-like manipulation, and more.

she loves butterflies, especially the blue SCHMETTERLING 🦋🇩🇪

her favorite color is sky blue.

she likes bows.

her bff is Sam, Sally, and Elizabeth Vazquez.

It takes her a while to trust people.

she likes to lurk around abandoned hospitals, jails, prisons, mental asylums, forests, parks, cabins, you name it. But she mostly can be found around the place she was murdered.

she knows a thing or two about dr*gging people.

After she was murdered, her parents were informed by the police as to what happened; her parents loved her very much, and were heart broken by their daughter’s death. So, every April 5th, They celebrate her birthday as a tribute of remembrance to her.

help I’m about to cry :(

Shit fuck man :( this shit is so fuckin’ sad dude-

anyway yeah :’)

here’s the picture I had drawn a while ago for her:

[veryace-ficrecs]

Good Omens POV Outsider Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)  

And Your Enemies Closer by GoldenUsagi - Rated G

Some Satanic monks summon Aziraphale to sacrifice to a Beast of Hell.   Unbeknownst to everyone involved, the Beast is Crowley.  The ritual sort of goes downhill after that. 

On Being Bar Mitzvahed by write_away - Rated G

Zachary Hirsch is quite certain that he's never met Uncle Anthony and Uncle Ezra before, but all sorts of relatives have come out of the woodwork for his bar mitzvah, so it's not like he's surprised.

Crowley and Aziraphale occasionally crash b'nei mitzvahs, confuse the bar mitzvah boy, and leave presents.

The future's going to break through by nieded - Rated T

Series: 3 Works

My take on South Downs: Aziraphale and Crowley decide to become professors. This is inspired by the headcanon that Crowley has 20 different degrees. He is the Serpent of the Tree of Knowledge after all.

The Official Mr Fell Quarantine Thread by argentconflagration - Rated T

 It is with an exasperated sigh that I introduce you to an official thread for this guy. We've discussed it and we've decided that this is the only way we can stop you guys from derailing threads to complain about this guy. By mod decree, all Mr Fell complaining, griping, bitching, grousing, and miscellaneous butthurt now belongs in THIS THREAD AND THIS THREAD ONLY.

The forumgoers of The Codex, a forum for rare book hunters, come to some very interesting conclusions about the personal life of one Mr Fell of Soho. (Inspired by a tumblr post.)

Sleeping Like The Dead by WorseOmens - Not Rated

Aziraphale takes up the habit of sleeping, and goes a bit overboard. After all, with Crowley in bed beside him, why would he ever want to get up?

(Or: The ineffable husbands sleep for three months straight and the whole street thinks they're dead. NOT ANGSTY)

Unto the Whateverth Generation by AstroGirl - Rated T

When your family has been unsuccessfully trying to summon a demon for generations, it's bound to be a little bit of a shock when he actually shows up.  Especially for the demon. 

Chicken Soup for the Dudebro's Soul by ShinyHappyGoth - Rated T

Chanctonbury Ring, a prehistoric hill fort covered in beech trees, is a point of interest near Devil's Dyke on the South Downs. Local legend has it that, if you run around it seven times anticlockwise, the Devil will appear and offer you a bowl of soup in exchange for your soul.

Local legends are weird like that.

Like He Hung the Stars in the Sky by asideofourown - Rated T

“There’s so much you humans don’t understand about the universe, it’s not my fault that I do,” he said in a statement to BBC reporter Jane Smith.  “Just you wait!”

BREAKING: SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY IN DISARRAY AS NEWCOMER UPENDS DOZENS OF ACCEPTED THEORIES

Up and coming British astrophysicist Dr. Anthony J. Crowley has rocked the science world this week with his research that proves many previously-accepted scientific theories about dark matter and the nature of our universe completely wrong.  Dubbed the ‘Devil’s Theory,’ Crowley’s research has made the astrophysicist a star practically overnight, and one of the most sought-after scientists in the country.

[Crowley can't keep his mouth shut about the stars, and accidentally becomes a famous scientist.  Based on this!]

A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square by ThetaSigma - Rated T

Sam had settled into his job at the Ritz nicely. For example, no one there cared that his birth certificate listed him as Samantha and female and accepted him as Sam and male easily. It's a job he really loves, not least because his supervisor is possibly the nicest person to roam the Earth.

Sam also may be the first waiter in all of history to find out why the wine bottles fill up again when Aziraphale and Crowley have dined there.

***

 He discreetly cleared away the empty bottles on the table and went to put them in the recycling, same as he always did.

 Jim stopped him. “Not those bottles, son.”

 “But they’re just empty bottles, Jim. Nothing left.”

 “I know. But trust me. Cork them and put them back on the shelf, especially if those two ordered more than four bottles total.”

A Guide to Fame for the Enterprising Demon by asideofourown - Rated T

tildeathdoustogether

ok friends so i know we all joke about, like john mulaney and keanu reeves and hozier being immortals, but… i really think we gotta add anthony j. crowley to that list

thelongest27yearsofmylife reblogged and said:

Christ, Beth, Anthony Crowley is an increasingly popular, openly queer creator with explicitly queer rep in his work that’s really important to some people, can you not make this into a meme for ONCE in your life?

[Crowley accidentally gets a bit famous, and the internet figures out he may be a bit immortal]

tildeathdoustogether reblogged and said:

you think i’m joking but.  i’m not.  l i s t e n  i did not get a history degree for nothing, i have RECEIPTS. buckle in kiddos this is a wild ride

The Cell Block Gavotte by WorseOmens - Not Rated

Crowley is forced to defend himself from three disgruntled demons in the heart of London, and that is really, really hard to explain in a human court of law.

(Or: Crowley goes to prison, and decides to just roll with it)

stand on the brink of the warm white day by appomattox - Rated T

hdjngjjbg you guys earlier i was waiting at the bus stop just outside a bookstore and the owner, a little upper-middle aged man who gives off immense gay vibes, walked by on his way in and just. handed me a bag of fun size almond joy????

Wherein: Aziraphale is a Confirmed Immortal.

Wilson & Sons by voidify - Rated G

Ever since its establishment in 1768, Wilson & Sons Barbershop had been a proud family business. Customers came and customers went— but there was one who had, apparently, been there since the very start: A.Z. Fell. 

it's a new craze by attheborder - Rated T

***

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan.

AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we?

CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all.

AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous.

CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not.

Crowley and Aziraphale are very possibly the people least qualified, on the entire planet, to start up an advice podcast.

But what else is there to do when the world isn’t ending anytime soon, you’re technically on indefinite sabbatical from your lifelong careers, and you need a plausible excuse to spend more time with your best friend who you’re definitely not, absolutely not, maybe just a little, actually maybe overwhelmingly in love with?

Crowley Invented Youtube Recommended (Parsley, Thyme, Sage, Daffodils remix) by flibbertygigget - Rated T

After Aziraphale's video on crêpes makes it into Youtube recommendations through a little demonic intervention, he quickly goes viral. Cue college students just trying to make it work, a bunch of young queers who see A.Z. Fell and his husband Anthony as "goals," and quite a few comments from one Newton Pulsifer. 

The Art of Pretence by WitchFlame (RachelMcN) - Rated T

Playacting is an essential skill for a demon.

Especially when you get summoned by amateur witches with a thirst for power. Luckily, Crowley's silver tongue has always been his most versatile trait.

“You wrote the binding wrong,” the demon speaks and she jumps so harshly that her carefully cradled flask spills and smashes against the floor.

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost by TheOldAquarian - Rated G

What are you supposed to do when you've been fired from your sweet job in Hell for thwarting the schemes of Satan, you've got a swanky flat in Mayfair, and you're looking for an excuse to spend all your time in someone else's bookshop? Obviously, you turn to the dubious world of short-term vacation rentals.

The resulting Airbnb property has been variously described as "an instagram trap," "a vampire den but make it botanical," and "the weirdest bed and breakfast in the shared history of beds and breakfasting."

what a way to make a living by attheborder - Rated T

Without any more assignments coming from Downstairs, Crowley is struck with a bad case of the doldrums.

It takes a bit of trial and error, but eventually a solution is found.

(Or: the one where Crowley becomes an Uber driver.)

[ripaxed]

Long messy headcanon post for pride, and for the hell of it

GEN1

Ezekiel - Heterosexual Cisgender Intersex, He/Him

Eva - Pansexual Cisgender, She/Her

Noah - Gay Homoflexible, Transmasc, He/Him

Justin - Idk I don’t care about this guy. Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Katie - Cisgender Lesbian, She/Her

Sadie - Cisgender Lesbian, She/Her

Tyler - Bisexual and Bigender, He/Her

Izzy - Pansexual Genderfluid, Varying Pronouns

Cody - Either Cisgender Bisexual or Heterosexual Transfem, He/Him or She/Her depending

Beth - Cisgender Bisexual, She/They

Courtney - I don’t rlly care. Cisgender Heterosexual because it bothers people, She/Her

Harold - Unlabeled Transfem, She/They

Trent - Either Cisgender Gay or Transgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Bridgette - Lesbian, Transfem Intersex, She/Her

Lindsay - Bisexual Lesbian, Cisgender, doesn’t really know what labels mean she just agrees with what Beth and Tyler call her, She/Any

DJ - Aromantic and probably Asexual, Cisgender, He/They

Geoff - Cisgender Bisexual, He/Him

Leshawna - Cisgender Bisexual, She/Her

Duncan - Denies anything but Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Heather - Unlabled, Transmasc, She/Her to He/They pipeline

Gwen - Aromantic Allosexual, Nonbinary, eventually Them/Them

Owen - Bisexual Transmasc, He/Him

Sierra - Gender Microlabel, her sexuality is DLC and I haven’t bought it, She/Neos I’d think

Alejandro - Pansexual Genderfluid, He/She/They

GEN2

Staci - Cisgender Bisexual, She/Her

B - Transmasc Bisexual, He/Him

Dakota - Transfem Bisexual, She/Her

Sam - Transmasc Bisexual, He/Him

Dawn - AroAcespec Pansexual, Bigender, She/They/He

Brick - Lesbian, Gender Unclear, He/Him(?)

Anne Maria - Unlabeled Genderqueer, She/Her

Mike - Cisgender Bisexual, He/Him

Chester - Cisgender Gay, He/Him

Svetlana - Aromantic Cisgender, She/Her

Vito - Pansexual, Transmasc Nonbinary, He/Her

Manitoba - Rancid Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Mal - Gay, Gender Microlabel, He/They/It

Jo - Bisexual, either Agender or Cisgender with complicated gender relationship (I’m against people who act like you’ve committed a sin if you hc her as anything but cis regardless), She/Her either way

Scott - Unlabeled, Gender Unclear, He/Him

Zoey - Lesbian, Demigender, Intersex, She/Her to She/They/Neos eventually

Lightning - Gay or Bisexual, I know in my soul throughout high school he was dating women he thought were awesome for like a week before getting too busy to continue the relationship but I can’t figure out if it’s comphet or him just not being suited for relationships, wanted to date men he thought were also awesome but couldn’t figure out that the only step to dating men was wanting to date men, Cisgender for now, He/Him

Cameron - Bisexual Nonbinary, They/Them

GEN3

Beardo - Pansexual Agender, He/They

Leonard - Unlabeled Genderqueer, He/Any

Amy - Rancid Cisgender Heterosexual, She/Her

Sammy - Lesbian Cisgender, She/Her

Rodney - Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Ella - Aromantic Asexual Transfem, She/Her

Topher - Arospec Gay Cisgender, He/Him

Dave - Cisgender, Heterosexual but questioning, He/Him

Scarlett - Aromantic Lesbian Cisgender, She/Her

Max - Entirely Unlabeled, He/Him

Jasmine - Bisexual Demigender, She/Her

Sugar - Lesbian, Cisgender or Transfem, She/Her

Sky - Arospec, Transmasc Nonbinary, They/He

Shawn - Pansexual Transmasc, He/Him

GEN4

Caleb - Either Aromantic or Gay or both, Cisgender, He/Him

Axel - Gay Transmasc Nonbinary, She/They/He, doesn’t know any of that though she’s too busy apocalypse prepping

Nichelle - Pansexual and incredibly Cisgender in a way I can’t describe, She/Her

Scary Girl - Unlabeled Transfem, She/It

Damien - Bisexual Transmasc, He/Him

MK - Transfem Lesbian, She/They

Wayne - Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Raj - Cisgender Gay, He/Him

Ripper - Gay, Cis but also Trans because he doesn’t follow rules, He/Him

Zee - Aromantic and probably Asexual, doesn’t know what gender is, Intersex, Pronouns are whatever anyone calls him

Chase - Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Emma - Unlabeled Cisgender, She/Her

Julia - Lesbian Cisgender, She/Her

Millie - Lesbian, both of us are unsure about her gender, She/Her

Bowie - Gay Genderqueer, He/They

Priya - Bisexual Transfem, She/Her

RR

Tammy - Unlabeled Transfem, She/Her

Pete - Gay Cisgender, He/Him

Gerry - Gay Cisgender, He/Him

Elody - Nonbinary Lesbian, She/They

Mary - Nonbinary Lesbian, She/They

Laurie - Cisgender Pansexual, She/Her

Miles - Pass

Tom - Cisgender Gay, He/Him

Jen - Cisgender Lesbian, She/Her

Kelly - Bisexual Cisgender, She/Her

Taylor - Pass

Jay - Pass

Mickey - Bisexual Cisgender, He/Him

Lorenzo - Aromantic, Transfem because I think it would be funny if Chet hated getting a stepbrother but thought getting a stepsister was awesome, She/Her

Chet - Cisgender Pansexual, He/Him, because they’re- they’re all or nothing-

Rock - Gay Nonbinary, He/Him

Spud - Gay Nonbinary, Any

Dwayne - Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Junior - Unsure Sexuality, Transmasc, He/Him

Ennui - Aromantic, Agender Intersex, He/They

Crimson - Aromantic, Agender Intersex, She/They

Stephanie - Pass

Ryan - Pass

Devin - Pass

Carrie - Cisgender Heterosexual, She/Her

Kitty - Unlabeled Genderqueer, She/Him

Lame Emma - Pass

Jacques - Cisgender(?) Gay, He/Him

Josee - Cisgender(?) Lesbian, She/Her

Brody - Bisexual Cisgender, He/Him

Sanders - Pass

MacArthur - Heterosexual Cisgender, She/Her

HOSTS

Don - Pass

Josh - Cisgender Heterosexual, He/Him

Blaineley - Pass

Chef - Gay, Gender unknown to me, He/Him

Chris - Bisexual Cisgender, He/Him

[chaos-has-theories]

Heaptober Day 15: Soulmates

7 connected drabbles about Soulmarks, + a list of headcanons.

1.

Silas Heap had always been the kind to leave his mark wherever he went. His hands looked like a painter’s hands, covered in splatters of the brightest colours until there was barely a spot of skin left.

When Silas found himself staring into a pair of solemn purple eyes, he reached out without thought to brush the snowflakes from her lashes.

He wasn’t surprised, really, when he left behind a smear of bright grass green. He chuckled at the sight of the wine-red she’d given him in return.

Well.

He’d already known that he was going to take her home.

2.

--

Sarah Heap had given birth to seven sons.

She’d marked each of them in gentle turquoise the first time they were placed into her arms, and they’d left their marks in return. She could count out her sons in the splotches on her left hand: Simon’s dark green. Sam’s muted teal. Erik’s sould was golden yellow where Edd was dusted rose. Jojo was orange, impossibly bright; Nicko the blue of a storybook sea.

And of course there was the green mark on the back of her hand. It had never faded, even years after she’d brushed it against Septimus’ jaw.

3.

--

Every one of her boys Sarah marked the very first time she held them.

Not Jenna, though.

For months, Sarah would trace the rich blue handprint on Jenna’s shoulder; the purple mark at the back of her neck. “Someone misses you,” she’d whisper, and still there was no trace of turquoise.

After Sally left, Sarah couldn’t let go of Jenna. They won’t get you, she thought fiercely.

A tiny fist closed around her finger. Purple eyes looked up at her. I know, those eyes seemed to say.

When her daughter let go, she left five perfect rings of red behind.

4.

--

Jenna had grown up knowing she was loved. It was written in her skin: green and turquoise and orange and blue. Tiny handprints on her back from when Nicko and Jo-jo had reached for her as a baby. The teasing brush of Simon’s finger like whiskers on her cheek. Bo’s lemon yellow ringed around her wrist.

The pale purple on her neck, and the blue on her shoulder.

Sometimes, Jenna would look at the stars and think: Someone with a soul like the night sky had loved her once.

And if they’d loved her so brightly - where were they now?

5.

--

Boy 412 was not supposed to have soulmarks.

“A soldier doesn’t have attachments!,” Catchpole would roar at them whenever one of the boys had failed to cover up their colours.

So 412 wore sleeves over the green and sticky paste on the turquoise, and dutifully did not wonder who had touched him fondly, once.

After his capture, 412 did not take his scarf off for months. Not even once his fingertips were stained purple and his palm a deep red.

It was Sarah who finally untied it. When she touched the turquoise mark on his jaw, her hand fit perfectly.

6.

When the Dragon Boat opened her eyes for the first time in ten long years, there was red on her neck and green on her tiller, and she was free.

Jenna stared breathlessly at the enormous boat before them. “Look. They painted soulmarks on her.”

There were handprints all over the carved dragon body. Coral and burgundy, scarlet and win, with only few other colours dotted between.

Yet far away from the rest of the prints, Boy 412 had seen a solitary spot of purple. It was so… so vivid.

Jenna reached for the hull. 412 reached for the tiller.

--

7.

Septimus Heap had never had soulmarks.

He didn’t need any. Soulmarks made you weak: DomDaniel certainly didn’t have any.

So maybe he didn’t have the turquoise or the green that the Queenling and that Heap boy insisted he’d have. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need their soulmarks, or DomDaniel’s, or Zelda’s, or Simon’s. He could make it on his own. He would.

--

Three years into living as Merrin, his hand brushed his mother’s as they made dinner.

Nursie smiled so brightly at the pale, washed-out vermillion he left behind that he couldn’t help but feel happy about her greys, too.

+1:

Septimus does have a mark from Marwick, too. I just didn't have the space to fit in there; plus while 409 has to wear gloves to cover the green, 412 can just hold on to his pike, or pretend his hand got dirty. They got those marks when 412 pulled 409 out of a Wolverine's way as kids.

Dragons can get soulmarks! It's like the Imprinting. It's not quite the same thing as with humans; for example, they don't stain the humans back, but either way, the Dragon Boat and Spit Fyre both end up with Jenna and Sep's colours.

Rats also get soulmarks, but only from each other, and they're not as colorful and visible, so most people don't know about that. These days, Dawnie's mark has almost faded completely from Stanley's fur.

I just feel like Silas would, you know? He shakes a stranger's hand and comes back stained, laughs, and they're friends now. Which yes, means he absolutely has Marcia's purple somewhere.

Speaking of: The purple mark on Jenna is from when Marcia caught her during the attempt. The blue is her mother's, and OH RIGHT i meant to write a drabble about Milo getting his. Oh well.

I think it's important that some people have different colors than you might expect. Wotcher, Merrin.

This soulmate concept was shamelessly stolen from Coloring Inside the Lines; an absolutely and heartbreakingly fantastic Breath of the Wild fic. Can only recommend.

[shieldedsouls]

no header because wow that’d be a pain pretty much no matter how i do it

doing a by-muse reminder for pride ♥

angie is demiromantic and homoflexible ( heavily heavily prefers women )

bucky is demiromantic and bisexual ( slight preference for men )

dugan is biromantic and bisexual ( preference for women )

james is demiromantic and demisexual 

maria is biromantic and bisexual ( slight preference for men )

peggy is biromantic and bisexual 

sam is biromantic and demi- and bisexual 

sharon is demi- and biromantic and homoflexible  

steve is biromantic and bisexual

tony is bi- and demiromantic and bisexual ( slight preference for women )

thor is panromantic and pansexual 

[hertzwritings]

Captain’s Coffee

A/N: And now to something more… Cute. Sweet. Fluffy. We gotta balance it out, don’t we? I love you all so darn much, thank you for being here! This story is 1000000000 % dedicated to the amazing and absolute sweetheart, @buckyshattergirl​ who makes me get creative with my headcanons and AU’s. I love you.

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – the sky is the limit, so go nuts, my loves.

Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

CHRIS EVANS MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Contains: fluff, language, Coffeeshop!AU, Barista!Steve  

W.C.:2.262

 Captain’s Coffee

 When you stepped inside Captain’s Coffeehouse for the first time, you were immediately met with the comforting warmth of roasted coffee beans and a gentle chatter. It was pretty new – or, at least, you hadn’t heard of the place before – and if the coffee was good, you didn’t have to go out of your way for great coffee on the way to the library or study hall.

A smiling redhead with a nametag reading Wanda took your order. “Oh, you are adventurous, I can tell.” She said, a slight accent coloring her words. You grinned and shrugged. “I mean, when you have names as…” You looked to the board where the different special was written out in perfectly, slanting handwriting. “The Winter Soldier, how can I not be?” She chuckled and pulled out a blue and red cup. “What’s the name?” You smiled. “Y/N.” “Well, Y/N, welcome to Captain’s Coffee. I’ll call on you when your coffee is ready.” You smiled and sat down in a plush chair near the window, glancing out at the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a cozy space. Small and quaint, but perfectly in tune with whatever vibes the staff gave out; it felt almost familiar to sit here, mis-matched chairs huddled around wonky tables, that looked somewhat homemade. The walls were painted in a mossy green color, and the walls were covered in pictures of smiling faces, amongst them Wanda from the counter.

You smiled as she called your order, and by the first sip, you were addicted.

 After a few weeks, you had met what you assumed was all of the staff – Wanda first, then Sam (who was loud and flirty, but in a very fun way, you didn’t mind at all), then Bucky who seemed like a brooding, hulking man – he was both tall and broad, muscles rippling everywhere, but he made the meanest Black Widow coffee, which you appreciated all too much when you had a late night of studying. Natasha seemed no nonsense, but she was smart and quick-witted, and you learned quickly that she was dating Clint, - they were both sarcastic, but she pulled the rug out from under him constantly. Tony seemed nice, albeit a little aloof and commented that he was mostly doing the accounting, because he couldn’t be assed with coffee. Fair enough. The only way you could describe the buzz-boy, Peter, was jolly. He was flying around and a few times, you wondered if he had superhuman abilities just because of his speed. Vision seemed like he didn’t belong at a coffeehouse, but more like one of your professors. He was smart and apparently, Wanda told you a late night, had recently asked her out. You considered most of them friends – especially Wanda and Nat, and often joined them during their breaks to chat. A few others came and went, Thor and Bruce amongst others, who were just friends but spent a majority of their time at the coffeehouse.

The only one you hadn’t met, was the captain himself, Steve. Military-guy and Nat had grinned at your expression, when she told you that he was bigger than Bucky. That didn’t seem possible.

You had been proven wrong, when you arrived on a rainy Thursday, shaking rain from your hair and found yourself staring at the biggest, most beautiful man, you’d ever seen in your life. Something shattered in his hand, and you both looked down to the ceramic cup that had broken into pieces in his hands. “Oof. Be careful you don’t cut yourself!” You stepped forward, maybe to take it from him, you weren’t really sure. He sent you a bashful smile. “Oh, yeah, I’m, uh, I’m good. Hang on, just… two seconds.” You waved at Peter while Steve cleaned and went to the backroom. “Dude, is that Y/N? Seriously??” You heard his timbre from the closed door and bit your lip to contain a laugh at his tone. He sounded absolutely confused. “Uh…” Bucky poked his head out and waved once, sending you a rare smile. “Hi, Y/N. Be right there.” He disappeared again. “Yeah? What about her?” A smack sounded and a soft ow. “You just neglected to tell me how freakin’ gorgeous she was?” “I hadn’t really thought about it…” A sigh. “Dude, I’m going to end up fumbling around her.” “I can see that.” Another smack and another ow.   “Jerk.” “Punk.” A scuffle and then the door opened again, Steve smiling with red cheeks and a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “So… Sorry about the cup.” “It wasn’t mine, so I think we’re good.” You replied with a smile. “Oh, right. Yeah. Wanda has been very specific about your cup.” He pulled a red and blue cup down from the top shelf and showed it to you. “This one, right?” “You got it.” You couldn’t help but flirt just a little. He was gorgeous, really. “What can I get you?” He smiled and winked at you. “Today….” You glanced at the board. “A Scarlett Witch, please and thank you.” He hummed. “A favorite of mine.” “I have a soft spot for vanilla and spice.” “And everything nice?” He grinned. “I’ll have it ready for you in a few, Y/N.”

And that went of for weeks.

You would come in and Steve would immediately break something. Yesterday he had managed to snap the handle off of the espresso-machine, the time before that, it had been the handle of the broom – there was barely anything left, that hadn’t been replaced once, since Steve began serving you. It was kind of funny, but mostly cute – you barely got served by anyone else (you had seen him kick Sam on the shin, when he tried a week ago), but you didn’t mind. Steve was cute, and the giant man, all muscles and blue eyes, was reduced to a blushing mess every time you call him Stevie. It wasn’t just because it was fun to flirt and make him flustered, but you really liked him; he was a great friend and an even better person, and you enjoyed every second you spent with him. The fact that you could make him break things by flirting, was just an added bonus, really.  

Today had been a shitty day. Your professor had been an ass, your study group unbearable, your bag broke halfway through the day and your hair was acting out. You hated Mondays. You were about to cross the street to Captain’s Coffee, the promise of whatever coffee Steve would make in the forefront of your mind, but you had barely taken a step, when a fucking truck passed you, spraying you with dirty water from a very large puddle on the side of the street.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned and scrunched your nose up, trying to get some of the water out of your shirt. Fucking splendid. You walked with heavy steps to your favorite place, and Steve’s eyes found you instantly, when you stepped through the door. “Holy shit, are you okay? When did it rain?” He asked, taking in your appearance. You scowled. “It didn’t. Some asshole drove through a fucking lake on the road and splashed me. Hence the wetness.” You gestured to yourself. “Shit.” He looked at you with empathy shining from his eyes. “Whatever.” You grumbled, and crossed your arms. Not even amazing coffee could save your day today. “I hate Mondays.” He chuckled and stepped around the counter to take you in fully. His large hands rested on your shoulders. “Alright, Garfield, come with me.” You frowned at him. “Where are we going?” “We are getting you some clean clothes.” He turned around and found Bucky. “Yo, watch the register.” Bucky lifted an eyebrow. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He joked and Steve rolled his eyes at him. “You’re a dick.” Steve led you to the back room, where he opened another door, that led to a staircase. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Do you have like… A secret BDSM-dungeon or something?” His eyes flashed and you bit your lip. Oh, that’s interesting. “No dungeon. My apartment.” He grinned and began ascending the stairs, before looking back at you. “Coming?” you scrambled and followed him up the stairs, He opened a door at the very top of the stairs and you followed him inside to a bright and cozy apartment.

It was so Steve. It was light and airy, but filled with paintings, pictures and mis-matched furniture – almost as if he’d been collecting them through his life and finally had a place to put them. It felt homey and it smelled like pinetrees, which you had come to know as a very Steve-scent. You flashed him a grin when he closed the door and he blushed a little. “Yeah, so… This is my apartment.” “I can see that.” “I, uh… I’ll get you some things.” You nodded, your wet clothes nearly forgotten as you looked around. A painting hung on the wall nearest you, and you looked closely at it; it was a very beautiful painting of a sunset over a field of wildflowers, and you recognized several flowers as your personal favorites. “I, uh, I painted that a few weeks ago.” You loked at him with wide eyes. “You painted this?” He nodded bashfully. “Yeah. It was, uh, the same day you came in and talked Wanda’s ear off about the flowers you had planted. It kind of… Yeah, no, it gave me some inspiration.” He handed you some folded clothes. “You painted this because of me?” You asked, a little taken aback. “Really?” He shrugged. “I did.” Silence fell between you and the air was loaded – it felt heavy to breathe, and you gaped at him, opening and closing your mouth several times without knowing what the hell you were going to answer. “Uh… Anyway, the, uh, the bathroom’s right over there. Just leave your wet stuff in there, I’ll wash and dry them.” “You don’t have to do that, Steve, seriously.” He smiled softly at you. “I want to, it’s no issue.” You didn’t press it, but you did press a hand to his cheek gently. “You’re a really good guy, Steve.”

He blushed.

You quickly changed and reveled in the scent of pinewood and vanilla and the faint scent of coffee, that clung to the lose clothing. You were practically swimming in it – his t-shirt would’ve been more than enough, because it almost covered you down to your knees. The sweatpants were giant compared to you, and you thanked him silently for picking a pair with a drawstring, so you at least didn’t flash half of the coffeehouse, if you made it back down there. You left the bathroom and Steve smiled at you, a flash of possessiveness in his eyes, as they roamed your body. “Looking good.” His voice was a little deeper than normal. You twirled around once. “It’s huge on me, Steve. I feel like I’ve been shrunk.” He laughed. “Well, it looks good on you. Really.” “Sweatpants or your clothes?” “Whatever makes you feel best.” He said, stepping closer to you. “Your clothes it is, then.” He swallowed thickly and pushed a stray piece of hair back behind your ear. “You know, I’ve, uh… I’m shit at this.” He chuckled a little and you looked up at him. “At what, Stevie?” He blushed again and stuttered for a moment before drawing a deep breath. “You doing that. I mean… It makes me, like, uh… I feel all… Smoosh.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “God, I’m an ass, aren’t I?” You laughed and wrapped your arms tentatively around his waist. “Not really, no. I like you flustered and smooshed.” He chuckled and cupped the side of your face. “Would you, uh… Want to… Uh, you know, okay. Okay, yeah, would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked quickly. You grinned. “Well, yes. Of course. Only thing is…” You wet your lips. “We’ve already been on dates, Steve.” “Wait, what? I would’ve remembered!” His other hand cupped your face as well. “We’ve been having coffee together pretty much every day for a month, Steve. Just you and me. To me, that’s dating.” He leaned closer to you. “Oh. Well… Then I wouldn’t be overstepping in doing this.”

He kissed you gently, lips slotting over yours perfectly. It was assured and calm, exactly what you thought Steve was like. It lasted for a lifetime and barely a second all at once. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“So… A date later, then?” “Sure thing.”

You walked to the coffeehouse together, fingers intertwined and it wasn’t missed by the staff – both Wanda and Bucky whooped and high-fived, while Sam called out to Natasha that she owed him 5 dollars. You leaned against the counter, while Steve began making your coffee – a special, he had called wildflowers – and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. “That took way too long.” Wanda grinned at you. “No, just the right amount of time.” You giggled. “It’s been kind of cute, seeing that big, burly man be all flustered.” Wanda mused, watching Steve’s back. You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Want to see something more fun?” She grinned deviously at you and nodded.

“Hey, Steve…” You called to him. He didn’t turn around, but mumbled a small yeah, babe? “You didn’t say no to the BDSM-thing.” A loud crack sounded and steam billowed out from the machine. Tony groaned.

“Not again, Steve!”

 ------------------

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[neonovember]

Pine trees and dark earth.

drabble/headcanon; In an alternative universe that is my wicked mind, where Steve stays and Bucky and Sam aren’t ruined. There absolutely will be Sunday dinners.

summary; the avengers didn’t have much, just loss and grief. There was no such thing as routine, but building tradition wasn’t always easy, it never had been. This is a universe in which it was, and there is.

things; full domestication of Steve, Sam and Bucky to the full extent, filling my sad heart, pure indulgence, platonic!reader with a hint of soulmate action?, friendship and love, a drabble that is way to long to be considered a drabble but I don’t care, fluff, winter & dinners.

authors note; yes or no; I’m writing drabbles to distract myself from the stack of fics that remains pending in my docs. I haven’t for the life of me to continue finished what I started, so why don’t start something and finish it at the same time? there isn’t any smut in this one, just friendship, laughter, and indulgence that cures my aching heart.

It would start out of convenience.

Taking time out of their hectic lives to break bread at the end of the week, converse with you, Sam, Bucky and Steve. Then it would turn into tradition; the leaves will bronze and caramelise, the breath of the first winter morning due, the heat of July would remain constant, and Sundays, Sundays were still marked on your calendar like gospel.

It would be hosted at anyone's home, though favourably at Steve’s expansive, cabin oak lodge, seated amongst sky scratching pine trees that made your nose itch and a lake Sam had convinced you to swim in.

Bucky is surprisingly a good cook, obsessing over cookbooks he’d find online, in library’s, passing boutiques. He’d try to follow them, but give up halfway, measuring proportions by feeling instead of direction.

Swatting away hands that tried to taste with wooden spoons or photo frames, or whatever would be lying around the countertop. Bucky was a sight if you’d ever seen one, any sane person walking in on a Sunday afternoon would be incredibly confused.

He’d wear one of those ridiculous aprons, frills on its side and red detailing it’s ends, his shoulder length hair would be pulled back into a bun, some flour or powder would be pressed into his cheek, or dusting his hair until it was white.

The meals he’d produce on skillets from ovens never particularly looked spectacular, but they were delicious. Always. They tasted like nostalgia and longing, like the smell of finally coming home. You couldn’t make that in a cookbook, you couldn’t measure that kind of thing out.

That’s not to say he wouldn’t force each one of you to help out, you’d all have respective roles, each done with surprising enthusiasm.

You’d set the table, but it wouldn’t just be clunking down silverware and putting down a tablecloth; no you took your job seriously. You’d have a theme, something that was favourable for the weather outside.

You found pleasure in it, soul in it, crafting a space where you all could be the fullest, where you could set down your hearts and just live, finally just live.

Candles lights would be placed through the wide table, around the house, you’d turn off the lights, so that it would create shadows and a syrup glow across the room. You’d diffuse rosemary and lavender from the corners of the house, build the atmosphere to suit whatever Bucky had decided to cook.

Some people would call a candlelit diner romantic, and perhaps it was, but what was friendship but romance? Romance in each other’s company, in conversation, in comfort.

Steve would be in charge of choosing the wine, whilst it didn’t have any effect on him whatsoever, and it was more for you and Sam anyway, he took unfiltered dedication in it.

You’d watch under your clouded glass, the hue of the candle lights providing the only lighting in the room, the snowed in valleys curving and bending into each other outside the frosted windows cloaking the view in a white immeasurable sheet of dust, watch as he’d sip on the dark liquor and spoke of it like it was poetry. Tint his lips red with it, as he told of it's story, it's cultivation, the lingering hints of this or that, the aftertaste of chestnuts or roasted oak you’d taste as burnt tobacco.

Sam, now Sam would be responsible for proving the entertainment for the night. You thought you loved cultivating and transitioning whatever dining room into a gorgeous ensemble, until you saw Sam think up what he’d force you all to do.

He’d spent a fair bit teaching Bucky and Steve what the new age brought, millennial trends, albums and records, historical movies that “everyone has to see once in their life”. He’d teach Steve and Bucky with your help, how to dance, how to move with music in a new way.

Ingrain in their muscles the dougie, the moonwalk, the culture that still held to you and Sam despite the entire other world you were in.

Sometimes he’d bring out ancient board games dusted with age and neglect, and you’d see the monster of competition take over Steve and Sam. Monopoly was formally banned after Sam had won for the third time in a row, the temperature of Steve’s pale skin turning bright red as he was taunted by Sam’s condescension. Accusations of cheating and board games flipped over in frustration left your stomach bending over in laughter and heart full.

You’d catch Bucky’s eyes every now and then, his hands rested on his chest as he looked on fondly, a glaze of something you couldn’t decipher falling over him.

He’d point to his outstretched arm under the oak table that sneaked bills into Sam's pile, a smirk covering his features at your opened mouth shock. If Bucky was anything, he was an instigator.

For a moment, in the air of comfort and rest, you could feel childhood, you could feel what could’ve been. If you’d all met in different circumstances, if you’d all grown up in stable lives, if you hadn’t been taken and tainted with the greed, pain, and manipulation that existed in society's underbelly.

There were a lot of things you didn’t trust in the world, a lot of things all of you couldn’t. Betrayal and grief, burnt out optimism and stolen trust taught you to be wary in the things you announce as ritual, in the things you trusted as yours.

Normalcy and routine can be swept from right under you, can be taken and destroyed. You wanted things to change, you hoped for it, decades of your life were left derelict to violence and rage and blood, your bones hadn’t fully creaked with the fullness and freedom of life.

You hadn’t developed crows feet, or the drooping lines around cheeks and mouths that hinted at years of love and laughter. Your skin hadn’t aged yet, your body hadn’t pained itself with the joyous movement of running and playing and everything else there was in being human. In the things other people hated, others tried to change or remove, you craved for.

There was so little you call your own, so much you lost to the fight, but this? This home, these dinners, were the one thing you admitted to the moon and the sun. It was the one thing you hoped with every part of you, remained exactly as it were.

Untainted, unmarked with blood or violence, undisturbed as the broad pine trees that stood atop mountains of ice and snow. That grew its branches into the dark earth, until it seated, until it rooted itself into where it always belonged, where it was destined.

You were destined here, you all were marked into the dark earth until your roots and memories sprang forth into the ground.

It was the one thing left in you that you believed.

[edgedglorya]

tag drop. 

[salvagedsouls]

it’s not something sam announces about himself for varying reasons, but he is a music man™ and has been for a long time. part of the church choir as a kid ( happens when your dad is the preacher in charge ), band & choir classes in school. his main instrument is the saxophone, again for a variety of reasons, but he has decent skill with piano, bass, and guitar as well. 

these days he mostly breaks out the sax to entertain his niblings, resulting in a weird combination knowledge of classic, contemporary, and absolute memery that he can play. the longest pause of practice was actually while he was in the airforce, especially with the EXO project going. injury that grounded him and the project temporarily cut performance stamina and accuracy, but he has since healed enough and worked on it to keep his skills up.

[bonesofapoet]

( please note some links will take you to my main blog )

* characters with an asterisk are now platonic only

ARCANE

Silco

prologue -a taste of mercy

DC

Arthur Curry

melted stars, melted sea

Donna Troy

sunlight

morning sun, burning waffles

headcanon: a snowy afternoon

to bloom through a blade

Dick Grayson

car crash hearts

with fear, i fall

headcanon: going to a haunted house

watchers in the night

portraits for lovers

Jason Todd

lightning fields

now cracks a noble heart

headcanon: watching it snow

we are unsung hymns

a shelter made of mercy

i didn’t know the world could be so warm

they say fear is for the weak

sky full of song

headcanon: going to a haunted house

atlas bewitched in a diner

trials of the gods

headcanon: jason is scared of loving you, but cant stay away

run away from the sun

fall

John Constantine

death wrapped in velvet

the muse of venus

Roy Harper

my dear, how sweet we could be

DEADLY CLASS

Billy Bennett

constellation dreams

Lex Miller

midnight reality

anthology pt I

anthology pt II

a rose colored curse

we walk in beauty

i can see fire in your eyes

Marcus Lopez Arguello

neon anchors

merciful souls

starlight sins

inscendence

from dusk ‘til dawn

Saya Kuroki

shallow glory

CALL OF DUTY

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

heart under the gun

ares crowned by persephone

CASTLEVANIA

Alucard ( Adrian Tepes )

revival of a soul

haunted

touched by fire

CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA

Nicholas Scratch

hush

sweet cravings

DRAGON AGE

Cullen Rutherford

the night that keeps our secrets

Fenris

the honeyed kiss of betrayal

Lucanis Dellamorte

tongue-tied

Sebastian Vael

our graveyard of dreams

The Iron Bull

our names are carved in steel

GENERAL

headcanon: vigilante/hero x you

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Aemond Targaryen

through the thorns

the shadow’s crown

even dragons must yield

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes

letters from poseidon

we’re nothing but a falling star

skin & bones

Frank Castle

soft and wild

abandoned valor

once upon an ugly sweater

ache

Hobie Brown

headcanon: going to a show with hobie

Loki

the oracle at the end of the world

Matt Murdock

aphrodite’s kiss

blood of the holy

lucifer in the arms of persephone

Peter Parker (TASM)

a duet, honey sweet

muse of the heart

Quentin Beck

careful, i bite pt I

careful, i bite pt II

Sam Wilson

stars in high tide

Shang-Chi

steady heart

Sylvie Lushton

tired eyes and gentle hands

* Yelena Belova

the glow of a valley

amaranthine

ghosts

PRODIGAL SON

Malcolm Bright

we move lightly

fragments

crimson darling

STAR WARS

Captain Rex

dewdrops

Din Djarin

a legion on crimson wings: pt  I  II  III  IV  V  VI

violent delights

the golden rays of night

wicked, wicked dreams

Obi-Wan Kenobi

fallen kingdoms and starlight hearts

STRANGER THINGS

Billy Hargrove

head full of noise

Eddie Munson

sunset leather + rooftop smiles

headcanon: going to a metal show with eddie

monster hunting would suck without you

too young to fall in love

inferno

golden crowns and whispering roses

april

TEEN WOLF

Peter Hale

on the breath of a hurricane

THE DREAMER TRILOGY

Declan Lynch / Jordan

veiled in vintage thorns

THE OLD GUARD

Booker ( Sebastian le Livre )

funeral for a ghost

THE ORIGINALS

Kol Mikaelson

watch me crack and shatter

THE 100

Roan

sunrise over the devil’s revenge

[lin-nin]

Oh you said you needed more Headcanon requests bet fluffy anon is back with more fluff :D bbh,Sam,Dream and Sapnap with how they act at night/in the morning

Bless your sweet soul, fluff anon.

BadBoyHalo with his s/o at night and in the morning

At night, Bad would be very adamant about holding you close. He would pull you on top of him, arms wrapped around you. Practically treating you like a teddy bear, but you never truly minded. He was warm and comfortable, it was nice to be held by him like this. He would sometimes hum quietly to you, fingers running along your back until you fell asleep.

Waking up was entirely different. Bad was a morning person- extremely chipper once he was awake. Yet, that was the problem. Waking him up. He would grumble and growl, face burying further into pillows. It took a bit of prodding sometimes, but once he was out of bed all the irritability of having to get up was gone. He would- most mornings- insist on cooking for the pair of you. It was unknown if he would allow you to help. Either way, it was nice to watch him hum and sway as he set about starting his day.

Sam with his s/o at night and in the morning

Sam’s nights were often rough ever since he was commissioned to build Pandora’s Vault. While building it he would come home- whenever the hell he could- and collapse onto bed and just sleep. When he had begun to actively work there, he was stressed most of the time. It took a lot out of him. He would find his way beside you, arms curling around you as his face buried into the crook of your neck. It was when he was most vulnerable, stress and tension mingling with exhaustion. The nights were quiet, but you were happy to hold him and give him some sort of relaxation.

Mornings weren’t nearly as melancholic as nights. A bit bittersweet, but he would spend a long while just cuddled with you. Pressing delicate kisses to your shoulder and cheeks, offering you a smile. Just enjoying the moment when it could last. After all, the two of you were busy, and as the sun rose further in the sky, your time together grew shorter. He of course wouldn’t even leave without reeling you in for a chaste and loving kiss before he left. Something to help him through the day.

Dream with his s/o at night and in the morning

Dream was extremely affectionate when he was with you at night and morning. It was the safest time for him to be attached to you, somewhere private. He would whisper softly to you about his day when the two of you lay in bed. His hands were constantly moving, cradling your face or messing with your hair. He’d play with your fingers often, especially when you were speaking. It felt like a rare moment of peace with the chaos he often had surrounding him.

The mornings he would offer you probably one of the sweetest smiles, pressing lazy kisses over your face and muttering sweet nothings to you when you woke up. If you were still asleep, he would stare at you and just map your face, carving them into his memory. Just in case. When the two of you had to inevitably part ways, he would constantly remind you to stay safe. For him. He probably said it about a dozen times before letting you leave.

Sapnap with his s/o at night and in the morning

Nights with Sapnap were often chaotic in the best ways. You never knew what to expect- if you would be going to bed at a normal hour or just as the sun began to rise. Whenever he did manage to get you in bed- or vice versa- he was extremely affectionate. Grossly so, pressing kisses all over your body with not so quiet ‘mwah’s. It took a lot to wind down, as he had quite the habit of making you erupt into a fit of giggles just when you thought you were going to sleep. Eventually, though, the two of you did manage to fall asleep.

Waking up beside Sapnap was always welcome. He wasn’t as goofy or chaotic, sleep still weighing down his voice and evident in his expression. Some days he would trap you in bed just so you could sleep longer, other’s he’d be pulling you up with promise of adventure. Each morning was exciting, whether it was spent gearing for exploration or running your fingers through his hair and cuddling into him. You really wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[cazzyvintage]

Dude you can treat it as a request or not. I just need to get this out. Imagine Karli threatening Zemo because she knows about you. And Zemo would go all overprotective™️

I loved this concept so much I had to turn it into a headcanon request!

- Zemo constantly worried about you. He was worried about what might become of you because of who he was. Zemo first met you after his family was killed but before he took on the Avengers. He never thought he would move on from his wife but you shook his world and he fell fast. He adored everything about you and lived to see how happy you were with him. But he still had to complete his revenge, to avenger his country and his family and you understood this, you supported him through this.

- His plan did not go the way he wanted it though. He succeeded in taking down the avengers but at a price of being locked away inside while you were left outside. He came up with a backup plan in case of this emergency however for he was a practical and thorough planner. His Butler took you away to a private location where you would stay away from any harm. In his business, Zemo had made quite a few enemies who would stop at nothing to get revenge upon him and you were the perfect ammunition. He wouldn't even allow you to come to visit him, worried people may be able to trace you back to the location and harm you. The guilt of losing his first family already ate at Zemo, losing you would wreck him. Instead of visiting him, Zemo got his butler to deliver letters between the two of you. It wasn't an interaction that provided a lot of attention you needed but you loved being able to read over everything he put. Often you would trace your fingers along the letters, imagining him sitting there writing out these letters for you.

- Zemo choose not to tell you when Bucky broke him out of prison. He knew there was no way he could walk out of this a free man, either he was killed or he went back to prison. No, there was no need to get your hopes up just for them to be dashed again. Plus this was a dangerous mission and he didn't want you involved if he could help it.

- Unfortunately for him, things did not go to plan. There he was having shot Karli and about to destroy the super-soldier serum when she said one thing that made him freeze in his tracks. She said your name. To taunt him more she told him the address he had been keeping you at, at the very moment he chooses to destroy the serum her men will be on their way to kill you.

- Zemo found himself in a cease-fire. On one hand, he could destroy the serum and he closer to finish his mission which has been going on longer than he has known you, the mission that's become his soul purpose and on the other hand he had the opportunity to protect you, ensure the person he loved more dearly than anything was safe but at the cost of avenging his previous family. For a moment both Zemo and Karil looked at each other, caught in a freeze-frame while the cogs within Zemo's mind ticks on what he needs to do.

- In the end, though the answer was clear. He'd have more chances to eliminate the super soldiers and get rid of a serum. He couldn't replace your life. He moved away from the super-soldier serum, holding his hands up in surrender and Karli leaps forward to grab them, but that's when Zemo moved.

- Rage filled him at the thought of Karli even daring to threaten you. It was as if he saw red. In his built-up adrenalin, rage and worry for you, he launched himself at Karli, punching her in the face. He could have shot her but he wouldn't have found it nearly as satisfying, no he needed to feel the skin on skin contact of it, to know he's protecting you by hitting her. Zemo didn't know how long he was on Karli hitting her till he felt arms wrap around him and dragged him off, all he knew was the blood on his hand. Thinking back he was surprised at himself for being able to take down a super soldier but one must never underestimate the rage of Zemo.

- Though Bucky and Sam tried to keep an eye on him he managed to slip away, and there was only one place he had a mind to go. Already he was on his private jet, heading off to where you lived to make sure Karli's people were not with you already. Anxiety picked at him till he was at your door, knocking and his heart nearly burst out of his chest when the door moved, but there you were, shocked to see him before you. He opened his arms and you found your natural home within them, hugging him just as tightly as he hugged you, He buried his head within your hair and closed his eyes, feeling tears leak out of them from how worried he had been to almost losing you, and how happy was to finally feel you within his arms again.

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[myanettes]

Hi Cami! How are you holding up? For the 'Ship Headcanon Meme', can I ask for 1, 17, 20 and 23 for Sam/Darling?

Hiya! Always lovely hearing from you & I'm doing alright but those inversion vids are wrecking my soul ;))

...

1; First move? Probably Sam, despite him being nervous. Darlin will want to do something but they don't want to risk things turning out the way they did with Quinn and so, they take things slow. Sam is patient and understanding with them, unlike Quinn. So, Imagine they're cuddling (like in canon) except they're staring in each other's eyes, unable to look away. Sam leans in first, Darlin follows suit.

17; Sam would go back to his life before he met Alexis, while he was a freelancer studying at the academy. He misses the exhausting college life, the long nights of revising for exams, going out in the summer with old friends... I think Darlin would go back to when they first met the pack. Maybe this time, they'll do things properly and Quinn won't be a problem.

20; Sam would take Darlin to Norway to see the northern lights. They'd cuddle under the beautiful sky with not a worry in the world, content and happy in the arms of one another.

23; Sam's place. It's spacious and comfortable (as Darlin said) It's also a place filled with many memories between the two. Sam teaches Darlin how to cook healthy meals in his kitchen (he didn't really use it before he met them) It's where they slow dance, kiss, cuddle, laugh. It's all theirs. It's become Darlin's safe place - their home. (Especially when Sam asks them to move in but that's a headcanon for another time)