i will look forward to your return

Hosoya Yoshimasa is taking a break from seiyuu related work (2017.04.24)

Due to poor throat conditions, Hosoyan has been recommended by the doctors to take a break from seiyuu related work. He plans on returning before the end of this year. 

Ono Kensho: “I’m looking forward to the return of a well rested, stronger than ever Hosoya san”  

Sugita Tomokazu: “prayer” (*referring to Hosoyan’s character song in Prince of Tennis*)

omg hosoyan noooooo you’ve worked way too hard ;—–; please take a good long break… we’ll support you always. come back soon!!! (。•ㅅ•。)♡

Dad Shawn

  • Sleepy Shawn rolling out of bed to get the baby at 4am
    He’s shirtless, and his hairs a mess, but the baby isn’t crying anymore
  • The way he’d look at your newborn like she’s made of gold
  • He’d always be willing to change the diapers
    Because thats the one thing he actually can do
    Since you’re almost always on feeding duty
  • “She rolled over, SHE ROLLED OVER! Babe, did you see that?”
    “Do it again sweetie, I want to record it, can you do it again?”
  • Shawn smiling proudly anytime someone calls your baby cute
    Almost like he’s thinking, yeah, I made that
  • “She said ‘Dada!’”
    “Shawn, she didn’t say anything.”
    “But she wants to, I know she does.”
  • He’d sing your kids to sleep
    And it was always the fastest way of getting them down
    When he was traveling for work, you’d put him on speakerphone
    So he could sing to the kids at night from wherever he was 
  • He would throw your children in the air and catch them
    Almost giving you a heart attack every time
    But they’d be laughing so hard
  • Saturday mornings were for cartoons
    And you don’t know who looked forward to it more
    Shawn or the kids
  • Every time Shawn returned home from a work trip
    He always brought toys, always
    Despite you telling him that they already had too many
  • Shawn taking your daughter out on “dates” when she’s like 7
    So that she would know how she deserved to be treated by a man
  • “So uh, babe, you know how you told us not to get a puppy?”
    “Yeah…”
    “Well, the shelter had so many cute ones.”
    “Mhmm?”
    “So we didn’t get a puppy, we got two. One for each kid.”
  • Anytime your kids were brought up in an interview
    Shawn always had a new story to tell about them
  • “She can sleep in our bed, just for tonight, please babe?”
  • Shawn helping your kids with homework
    “Um, I think we should ask your mom about that one.”
  • He’d always be in the backyard with your kids
    Showing them the best way to catch insects 
  • Your kids always like it better when Shawn pushes the cart or stroller
    “Vroom!” Crash! “Oops”
  • He’d build forts with your kids in the living room
    And you’d come home to see Shawn’s legs sticking out the back
    Because he’s too big to fit inside
    But he’s in there anyway
  • Shawn coaching your kid’s hockey team
  • And taking off of work early to watch them in the school play
  • He’d make sure your little men knew how to treat girls
    “Buddy, you gotta hold the door open.”
  • He’d write so many songs about your kids
    Most of them would never get released
    But you’d play it for them when they got older
  • “I’ll buy you ice cream if you stop screaming.”
    “Shawn, that is not how you’re supposed to parent.”
    “But it worked.”
  • Shawn would always be telling your kids he loves them
    In the most random moments too
    Your son runs inside while playing hide and seek with his brother
    And Shawn’s like “Hey son, I love you.”
    “I know dad. Help me hide.”
  • You never thought you’d see Shawn as passionate about anything
    The way he was passionate about music
    But then he became a dad.
|| absolutely ||

{summary: there’s been no girl after me? is this true?}

you guys ready for this au where Peter is hot and popular and who’s also infamous for being a player? bECAUSE I SURE AS HELL AM.

im gonna make you readers thirst for more fuckboi!peter parker with this story 👅👅

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @ghostedwolf , @fandom-flash , @animexchocolate, @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53 , @literatureandimmature, @daydr3ams-away, @wannabe-weasley , @mcusebstan , @tmrhollandkay , @pepcvina , @nekonerdxox , @lokigirl18 , @fangeekkk , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine**

warnings: explicit language & attempts at an attack

——

Peter Benjamin Parker, God, just hearing the name had the power to bring girls to their knees for him.

And you were no exception.

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The Labyrinth Chapter 36

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 6.9k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

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Don’t Come Down

Summary: Bucky takes you to a concert to give you an escape from your worries (Modern AU).

Word Count: 1,476

A/N: Part of the Lovely Little Lonely story collection, this fic is inspired by ‘Don’t Come Down’ by The Maine. 

Originally posted by 3rologirl3

Please…I’m begging you,” Bucky pleaded with a pout, clasping his hands together. “Please just do this one thing for me, and I won’t ask you to do this again. I promise.”

“Bucky, you know I can’t come with you. I have so many assignments to do. I can’t afford to lose any time to work on them,” you reasoned as your crush best friend groaned dramatically, lagging behind you as you made your way to the campus library. “Why don’t you ask Steve or Sam to go with you? I’m sure they’re able to.”

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Have You Ever Seen a Heart Shatter

Request: can you write an imagine with newt scamander where the reader compares herself so much to tina??? angst angst angst please!! your writing is astounding btw ❤️❤️

Word Count: 2,156

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Part 2

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


“Tina Goldstein, resident goddess.” You mutter as you storm through the front door and down the long staircase rife with splinters and creaky spots. Not to mention the unkind tenants that live on the third and fourth floors. Their shouts follow you down as your boots crash against the steps.

Tina this, Tina that, Tina the infallible. You skip three steps when you jump down onto the landing and yank open the front door. Tina can do no wrong, even when she’s unemployed and obsessive.

The wind slams into your side, trying to knock you off-balance. You shiver but stride forward, no real destination in mind other than to be far away from her.
No one had even looked up when you shoved your chair back from the kitchen table, too busy hanging on every word of some story about capturing some man that used a spell in front of some muggle to care about you. They love Tina’s stories about her adventures.

It’s not like you’re exactly employed. You’d met Newt on a research trip years before. The chemistry between the two of you had been obvious to everyone and it hadn’t taken long for the two of you to pair up for the study. Soon enough, Newt asked you to help him observe some mooncalves under the starry sky and, after some laughing and held hands, a new relationship began. The two of you agreed to work together and alternate research trips. This trip to release Frank was one of Newt’s ideas, meaning that you’re really nothing more than a magizoologist’s assistant.

Still, it’s more fascinating than just running after people and bringing them into MACUSA, right? You meet some of the rarest beasts on your journeys. Tina does nothing but arrest people and memorize the ridiculous laws on magic that Americans put into place. Every auror has stories just as mesmerizing as Tina’s, though the others disagree. Even Newt seems to think they’re interesting enough to warrant ignoring you.

You scowl and wrap your arms around yourself as you continue forward. If Newt wants to spend all of his time with some other girl with perfect hair let him.

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Silent (Soulmate!Thomas Jefferson - Part One)

Originally posted by youforfeitallrights

A/n: My friend is on an internship in New York, and she has tickets to see Hamilton… which got me thinking… I was bored and procrastinating… and I hadn’t written a soulmate AU in years… I need to reclaim my title as soulmate queen. (Also, apologies, I don’t know the tags for this fandom, sooo… This is a thing right?) 

Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you appear on your arm. Written in third person. Starts in James Madison’s POV then shifts to Thomas Jefferson. No warnings other than Thomas has a bad attitude. 

Part Two     Masterlist

There are three facts about Thomas Jefferson of which James Madison was absolutely certain: 1) Thomas Jefferson does not have a soulmate. 2) Thomas Jefferson doesn’t want one. 3) It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.

James had known Thomas for many years now, and he doubted any living person knew the man better. Even so, it didn’t take an expert to know Thomas’s view on the subject. Any person with eyes could look down at Thomas’s arm and see it lay bare of words. Any person who’d had a conversation with him on the subject could see he didn’t want to find any words there, and every person who’d ever encountered Thomas, even in passing, had likely come to the same conclusion as James. It was for the best. The universe was saving whatever poor woman would have been latched to him from a life playing second fiddle to Thomas’s ambition and hubris.  

Looking across the banquet hall, James could see Alexander Hamilton, who had been deep in conversation with Thomas for much of the afternoon, coming to those same conclusions. Hamilton had been among the first batch of people to approach Thomas when he arrived, and James barely salvaged a moment to warn Thomas of the situation before he dove into a lengthy discussion with the young immigrant.

James couldn’t decide whether he was amused or terrified. The pair seemed to be amicable enough at the moment, but that could change in a flash. Hamilton and Jefferson were both as stubborn as each other, and they were both fully equipped with sufficient verbal ammunition to break out into an all-out war right in the hall. James had a sneaking suspicion the only reason the two had yet to shed any blood was due to the close proximity of President Washington, the host of tonight’s affair.

“Someone should really go and separate those two before they realize how terribly opposed their views are. I’d hate to get any blood stains on the new rug.” James glanced up to see it was Martha Washington who spoke.  

Smiling James offered a hand out to greet the woman, “I do believe that will happen regardless of our intervention, ma’am.”

Martha gave a simple nod in the direction of his hand, and James’s hand dropped, realizing both of hers were occupied. In her left Martha held a nearly empty glass of wine, and in her right she held a hand, not her husband’s either.

James studied the younger woman attached to Martha’s side with interest. She had a death grip of Mrs. Washington’s hand and looked to be cowering behind the older woman. To her credit, Martha also appeared to be shielding the girl, who looked about ready to sink into the floor. The forlorn expression on her face and the tightness on Martha’s told James that neither of them particularly wanted the young woman to be there. Whether that was because Martha did not care for her to be at the banquet or whether Martha cared to protect her from it, James could not be sure.

“Mrs. Washington, I do not believe I’ve had the honor to meet your acquaintance,” James addressed the unknown woman with a slight bow of his head, “James Madison.”

“Oh, of course,” Martha flashed a forgetful smile James would have believed had he not seen it before. “Mr. Madison, this is my dear younger sister, (Y/n) Elizabeth Aylett.”

“Pleasure to meet you ma’am,” James bowed his head.

The woman, whom he now knew to be (Y/n) Elizabeth), gave a one-handed curtsey in response and a rather hesitant smile. Her grip on Martha’s hand loosened slightly, but she made little move to approach him any closer or step out from behind Martha’s guarded stance.

“Has your sister been introduced to Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Hamilton? Perhaps we could make their acquaintance on that pretense,” James suggested, waving a hand to where his oldest friend stood, still in deep, uninterrupted discussion with the new Secretary of Treasury.

“James!” A familiar voice boomed as a hand came down firmly to clap James on the shoulder. “I am so glad you could come.”

James turned to face George Washington and extended a hand, “Mr. President, did you really think I would miss a welcome banquet for my oldest friend?”

George accepted James’s hand and shook it firmly. “Your oldest friend who has spent the majority of the night politely refuting every word that has left the mouth of Secretary Hamilton.” George gave James a pointed smirk. “I dare say those two are cut from the same cloth.”

“I don’t know if I would go that far, sir.” James nodded his head in the direction of the pair, who seemed to have been quietly escalating their disagreement. “Even if they were, I doubt either would admit it. However, I do think they are both stubborn enough to continue this fight until someone forces them to cease blows.”

“Oh let them stew for a moment more,” George waved off James’s concern with a light chuckle. “They both work best when they’re angry. Perhaps if we leave them to it long enough they’ll build the whole country while trying to outdo each other.”

James did not share George’s confidence in the pair of men. He didn’t know who he was more concerned for. He’d seen Hamilton work. The young man had an unmatched determination, and put to work it could do some serious damage. However, Thomas Jefferson was not a man to cross, probably a fourth fact to add to his list if he ever felt like expanding it. There had been more than one occasion over the course of their friendship that he found himself thanking the heavens Thomas was on his side not against him. Nevertheless, James allowed George to table his concerns and the conversation to steer away.

“You know James,” George glanced down at the younger man’s sleeve covered arm with a knowing smirk. “Mr. Burr is here tonight.”

James’s hand instinctively went to his arm. Under the sleeve, the first words from his soulmate, Mr. Burr speaks very highly of you, Mr. Madison. “I’m afraid I have already met all of the women you have invited tonight, not including Mrs. Aylett.” He gestured to Martha’s sister. “Though I appreciate your concern.”

“Well no danger of that tonight, Mr. Madison.” Martha piped up, still holding firmly to her sister. “Perhaps the next banquet,” with a kind smile she added, “We’ll see to it Mr. Burr is invited to all of them.”

“How kind of you, Mrs. Washington,” James nodded politely.

James waited silently as George turned to address Martha about the time dinner would begin. His eyes wondered over to (Y/n), who also seemed very uninterested in the conversation. Her eyes had wandered away, and her guard had dropped slightly as she looked around the room. James followed her gaze to Jefferson and Hamilton who had since been joined by Aaron Burr, the same Aaron Burr who would one day introduce James to his soulmate.

‘No danger of that tonight,’ James reminded himself of Martha’s words, harsh but true. It occurred to him at first that she may have spoken prematurely. He knew everyone else in the room, but her sister had yet to speak a word to him. It didn’t seem likely, given that (Y/n) probably did not know Aaron Burr and had no reaction herself to his first words to her. Even so, Martha had said it with an odd sense of finality. If James could not see the looping cursive peeking out from under (Y/n)’s sleeves, he’d have assumed Martha was so assured in her statement because her sister had no soulmate. He supposed, now, it must have been because she knew the words on her sister’s arm, or that her sister had already found her soulmate. Though if that was the case, why was he not here?

A million possibilities were running through James’s mind. There wasn’t anything else particularly interesting to do that night.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, didn’t anyone tell you the war was over?” The voice of Aaron Burr echoed across the hall. Clearly James had been too soon assuming the night would be uninteresting.

George caught James’s eye. “Let’s go end the squabbling; shall we?” George offered an arm to his wife, and (Y/n) reluctantly dropped her death grip on Martha so her sister could accept.

The married couple led the way, and James followed after them beside a meek-looking (Y/n) who still refused to speak. The poor, quiet girl was walking into a lion’s den with Burr, Jefferson, and Hamilton. If she was hesitant around him, he could only imagine how badly she’d be spooked by the other three men. James made a concerted effort to circle around to her other side and place himself between her and the other three. He’d thought he’d been subtle with the gesture, but the sheepish smile (Y/n) sent his way told him otherwise. His only reply was to nod in confirmation.

“Mr. President,” Aaron Burr gave a bow of his head to the approaching group, effectively halting all conversation between Hamilton and Jefferson. “How are you this evening?”

“Quite well, Mr. Burr. How are you? Enjoying the festivities, I see,” The president looked between his two secretaries admonishingly.

Hamilton, at least, had the respect to look scorned, “My apologies, Mr. President. Secretary Jefferson and I were simply discussing…”

“Enough of that,” George waved away Hamilton’s concerns. “This is meant to be a celebration. Mr. Jefferson has only just returned to us from France. Let’s leave our work to the office, shall we?”

“Of course, Mr. President.” Thomas Jefferson gave a respectful bow of his head. “Thank you for hosting this dinner tonight. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“And we appreciate your assistance. I look forward to working with you, but for now let’s enjoy our evening.” George addressed the pair of them.

Hamilton bowed his head and turned his attention from the group. “If you all will excuse me, my soulmate is speaking with Mrs. Adams and appears to want my attention.” He went off with one last nod to the President.

“You haven’t even made it into work yet, and the two of you are already finding things to bicker over,” George’s tone was teasing, but there was a certain sense of warning to it that none of the group missed.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it bickering, merely a difference of opinions unrelated to work. I’m sure we’ll be able to put it aside in future work.” Thomas politely refuted the President’s concern.

“Unrelated?” James cut in. He knew both men well enough. They had plenty of points of contention related to politics. He couldn’t imagine they would have had enough time to make it through all of them and find something else to argue about.

“Soulmates, of course,” Thomas waved his hand in the direction Alexander had retreated. “He brought up the topic and seemed rather disgruntled by my stance on the subject.” Thomas was being very careful not to launch into his opinion again. He doubted this group, Martha and the woman he didn’t know in particular, would appreciate it.

“Ah yes,” George mused. “Alexander mustn’t be familiar with your perennial bachelorhood.”

“I was married once, you know,” Thomas pointed out to George with a teasing tone that in no way seemed to disagree with George’s statement.

“It happens sometimes,” Martha seemed to miss the tone in Thomas’s voice and took him more literally. “You know, people getting married outside of soulmates.” Her eyes trailed to the other woman in the group, standing between George and James and trying desperately to avoid eye contact with everyone in the room.

Thomas’s eyes trailed over the girl. “Who might your friend be, Mrs. Washington?” The question was addressed to Martha, but his eyes were firmly on the woman, expecting the answer to come from her.

She made no move to answer or even acknowledge Thomas’s presence, and Martha piped up immediately in response. “Mr. Jefferson, this is my sister, (Y/n) Elizabeth Aylett.”

“Can she not answer for herself?” Thomas fought the urge to roll his eyes when he looked back to Martha.

“As a matter of fact -” Martha sputtered out, agitation bubbling up in her expression.

“Mr. Jefferson,” George warned coolly, all pretense dropping from his voice.

Thomas wanted to scoff. He couldn’t get a word out today without being berated, first by Hamilton, then Burr, now the Washingtons. This banquet was supposed to be in honor of his return, and all he wanted to do was leave. Any other day he would have been the epitome of cordial, but that Hamilton had wound him tight. He wanted none of this.

Turning to (Y/n), he practically growled out his first words to her, “What? Are you mute or something?”

Everyone froze for just a moment. Aaron Burr was looking at him aghast. James’s expression was simply exasperated. George Washington had the stern expression of a no-nonsense general, and Martha looked a mixture of angry and shocked at his side. The woman, (Y/n), simply looked resigned. She was meeting Thomas’s gaze now, but the look in her eyes was not that of a woman scorned. It looked more like a woman broken.

The look in her eye was all Thomas needed to realize he’d made a mistake.

(Y/n) turned to her sister and made a quick gesture, wiping her fingers twice over the palm of her outstretched hand, before she turned for the door.

“Wait, I-,” Thomas reached out to the woman, ready to apologize. Instead, his hand was snatched away.

When he looked back, he was expecting a disappointed James or maybe a wary Aaron Burr. He was certainly not expecting to have to look down into the eyes of an absolutely livid Martha Washington. “You… You…” She was trying desperately to form sentences, but her anger was suppressing her speech.

“I’m sorry, deeply sorry.” Thomas looked away ashamed. “It has been a rough evening. I didn’t intend to take it out on your sister.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Martha’s voice was growing louder with her building rage. “You should be apologizing to (Y/n)! Not just for this, for decades of hating herself! Do you realize how much damage you’ve done to her?”

Now Thomas was confused, very confused. “I beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“Every day she wakes up to those words burned into her arm! Ashamed of who she is and knowing you’re ashamed of it too!” Martha’s ranting had attracted attention from a good portion of the banquet hall now. George reached out to his wife, trying to rein her in.

Thomas tried placating the irate woman. “I don’t understand what you mean, Mrs. Washington. Perhaps, I should just go find (Y/n) and…”

George took the matter on himself and pulled his wife from Thomas, stepping up close to the man so none of the now eavesdropping guests could hear his voice carry. “Your words are on (Y/n)’s arm. You must be her soulmate.”

“I don’t have a soulmate.” Thomas replied almost mechanically, turning his arm slightly so George could see the blank expanse of skin.

“Well yes,” George conceded. “If (Y/n) is your soulmate you wouldn’t have words on your arm. She’ll never speak to you… She is mute.”

Fragments - Part 2

Word Count: 6682

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: Constructive feedback always welcome and appreciated. Unedited. All mistakes are mine. If you’d like to be tagged you can add yourself Here

Fragments Masterlist


Cas had managed to get details from the getaway driver for the people who took Sam. It wasn’t much but it was something to go on. You’d found out they were British and had just flown into the country the same night they took Sam. He also told you he drove them to a local veterinarian but didn’t know why. Dean was off checking the tail number of the plane. Cas was checking into the Vet. Mary and you were sitting at a table in a park outside of the Vet’s practice, waiting for him to show back up.

You weren’t speaking, opting to watch Mary. Everyone had been so worried about you and your memory issue then about Sam disappearing they hadn’t paid much attention to her and how she was adjusting. She was watching everyone, staring at the cell phones and the laptops. She looked just as lost as you felt. You didn’t remember your life, but you remembered what life was like. You remembered phones, computers, technology, how to use everything. All of that was still there. You couldn’t imagine how she felt, being dumped 33 years into the future with a dead husband and two grown sons.

“Are you ok? I know how I feel. It must be a lot for you to take in.” Mary turned to you, smiling sweetly and nodding her head just as Cas approached carrying coffees, passing one to each of you. “Thanks, Cas.”

“It’s how you like it.” Cas said, sitting in the chair next to yours. “Or how you used to like it.” You took a sip and hummed in satisfaction, earning a smile from Cas.

“This must be difficult for you.” Cas said, turning toward Mary, apparently picking up on the same thing you had. “I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.”

“One word for it.” She laughed. “I grew up with hunters. I’ve heard of coming back from the dead…but to actually do it after 30 years…a lot’s changed.” She glanced around again, looking at everyone on their phones. “A lot.”

“Y/N what about you? Are you holding up ok?” Cas questioned. “I can’t really get a read on you. Then again…I guess I never really could.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You were always a mystery to me.”

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anonymous asked:

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes." with eggsy unwin please btw I love your writing

Eggsy Unwin + this prompt list

A/N: ok so i love eggsy with my whole heart but this is my first time writing him so some feedback would be delightful just so i know i’m not writing him totally wrong. also @kurtwxgners @mvximoff @rax-writes enjoooyyyy

When you wake up, it takes you a second to fully register where you are. You blink sleepily awake and slowly take in your surroundings. You’re in someone else’s bed, a strong arm draped over your waist. The stiffness in your muscles reminds you of the previous night and heat floods your cheeks as you remember the ease and complete lack of shame with which you fell into bed with Eggsy. His chest is warm against your back and you let yourself luxuriate in the warmth and comfort of the bed for a few seconds longer before carefully sliding away from him and slipping out of bed. Retrieving your panties from the floor, you spend a second looking for the shirt you had been wearing the previous night before giving up the idea and snagging a long sleeved shirt that is most definitely not yours off the back of a chair. Pulling it on, you pad quietly out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. 

As you wait for the coffee to brew, you lean back against the counter and think about any consequences last night might have for either of you. There are no rules against romantic involvement amongst employees of the Kingsmen, though you suspect it is frowned upon. The coffee machine is whirring quietly in the background as you think about the previous night. Heat rushes to your cheeks again as months of flirting replay in your mind. It’s not like last night wasn’t a long time coming. You don’t let yourself get caught up in wondering whether this will be it for the two of you, unwilling to let yourself ruin something good before you’ve even woken up properly. It could happen, but it might not, you remind yourself. Don’t get caught up over it. If it doesn’t happen, it wasn’t meant to be or whatever. 

The coffee is finished and after a short search through the kitchen cabinets, you pull out two mugs, pausing for a second to remember how Eggsy takes his coffee before filling them both and taking a long sip from your own. It’s mid morning, and the light filtering through the curtains is warm and bright, though a faint chill hangs in the air. You take another sip from your mug, too preoccupied with your coffee and your own thoughts to register the faint sounds of of footsteps from the bedroom.

“Gotta say, ‘m glad to see you’re still here, love.” Distracted as you are, Eggsy’s voice makes you jump, almost dropping your mug as you turn to look at him. His voice is low and rough with sleep and his complete lack of a shirt makes it hard for you to come up with an answer quickly. He takes another step towards you, offering you a crooked smile. “I was worried you’d run off or something.” His tone is teasing, but there’s a hint of vulnerability to it as well; a subtle sense of relief that you still want to be around him. You can’t help but smile back as you hold the other mug of coffee out to him. 

“No, I didn’t run off. Just needed help waking up,” you reply. “Hope you don’t mind I used your machine.” 

Eggsy takes a gulp of coffee and lets out an appreciative hum. “Not at all. You probably know how to work the thing better than I do. I think it hates me,” he quips, and you chuckle. There’s a momentary lull and then his gaze drops to the shirt you’re wearing and he quirks an eyebrow as he runs his eyes slowly back up your torso, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Nice shirt, darlin’” he says and you feel yourself heating up in response. 

“Sorry-I-it’s-I couldn’t find my shirt, and-” you start, trailing off as he sets his mug aside and steps forwards, reaching out to toy with the cuff of one of the sleeves. You can feel his body warmth radiating through the air and your breath catches in your chest. 

“‘S alright, love. I don’t mind at all,” he says quietly, an almost disbelieving smile curving his lips. “If anything-it’s-well, I mean-I just-can’t believe you’re wearing my clothes, in my kitchen, drinking my coffee. It’s-” he breaks off, blushing furiously as if he’s just processed what he’s saying. “I just-it’s nice having you here. And my shirt looks good on you,” he mumbles, not meeting your eye. You set your own almost empty mug aside a little clumsily, and reach up to cradle his jaw in your hand, tilting his head up and forcing him to meet your gaze. He’s still a little pink and it’s so endearing to see a little more vulnerability to him than the easygoing confidence you usually see. Your thumb strokes gently over his cheekbone as you smile encouragingly at him, leaning forwards enough to close the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips softly to his. His arm tentatively loops around your waist as he kisses you back slowly, pulling you a little closer against him. His body is warm against yours and you can feel your own relief at knowing he wants you too mirrored in the way he relaxes into you. 

“I’m glad you think the shirt looks good because I have very little intention of returning it,” you say, suppressing a giggle, and Eggsy chuckles, kissing you again. 

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

  • Reporter: So Mr. Nikiforov, have you been doing a lot of training during the off season?
  • Victor, in a poorly tied bathrobe with sex hair, covered in love bites and exuding small pink hearts: What? Oh yeah, training. Lots of that. Day and night. Training.
  • Reporter: ...right, so, what sort of programs can we expect to see from you in the next season?
  • Victor, staring dazedly at his engagement ring: Did I tell you I'm getting married?
  • Reporter: Yes, you remind us every time we interview you. Do you have anything else to say about your future?
  • Victor: I look forward to being a trophy husband.
  • Reporter: I mean your return to competitive skating.
  • Victor: Oh yeah. That's a thing. Say, where do you think would be more romantic for a honeymoon, Hawaii or the French riviera?
Matt Murdock Boyfriend Headcanons: Matt meets the Avengers.

A/N: Pietro is alive, just like in the movies, however instead of being on a very long vacation after all the shit that went down with Ultron he decided to join the team. Also you work at a bakery because reasons. Word Count: 1393

  • The first Avenger he ends up meeting is Clint. 
    • The two are you are in your apartment making out on your couch after coming back from a wonderful date when Matt suddenly pulls away and tells you he can smell blood.
    • 5 minutes later, after you both have double checked all your injuries to make sure that it isn’t coming from either of you Clint barges in; clutching his left side tightly and muttering an apology.
      •  “Sorry about this Y/N but your place was closer then the tower.” 
    • You quickly rush over to Clint’s side to help him make his way to the couch, giving the pair a quick introduction before telling Matt to grab your first aid kit. 
      • “Matt this is Clint Barton aka Hawkeye. Clint this is Matt Murdock my boyfriend.” 
      • “Nice to meet you.” “
      • “You too, wish we’d meet when I wasn’t bleeding out though. Like at a bar or something.”

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be still

it’s finally here!!! i expanded (maybe a bit too much) on this blurb and this is the final product. the blurb is incorporated into this version with some edits and added scenes between so even if you’ve read the blurb i wouldn’t skip over the parts you think you know because most of it is slightly different. also!! i made a playlist for this so if you’re interested in listening to it while reading you can do that. i’m really proud of this one so i hope you guys like it! please let me know ur thoughts!!

warning: smut (;

questions, comments, concerns.

masterlist

There were no words to describe just how much I hated Harry Styles. The way he dressed like an off duty model, the way he never cut his goddamn hair, the way he always got what he wanted. The way everyone practically worshipped the ground he walked on made me sick.

I had a more concrete reason for why I hated Harry, but that’s another story. Everyone thought I was just jealous of him, but I wasn’t. Why would I be? Sure, he was a great actor, but I was a great actress and we’d never really have to compete for parts. When he turned up at the theater a few years before, everyone quickly became enamored by him and the theater went from being mine to his.

But this isn’t about that. This isn’t the story of how I grew to hate Harry Styles. This is the story of how Harry Styles lit my soul on fire and made me feel something for the first time. This is the story of how Harry Styles gave me his heart even though he had absolutely no reason to.

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in her shadow || nine.

word count: 1.8k
summary: “I was going to find a way to have her.”

previous chapter.


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Vice Versa // Jung Jaehyun

-

the prompt: Since I’m already up in your requests, may I request a Jaehyun scenario. Maybe about him meeting you for the first time at a coffee shop then it winds up being yall’s meeting place.

words: 1605

category: fluff + drabble (?)

author note: since its jaehyuns birthday and also Valentine’s Day I thought I would write this first! it’s really simple but also kinda cheesy and idk how I feel about it haha. please enjoy it anyway and look forward to more requests being written soon!!

- destinee

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

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Safe & Warm

Summary: Just an insight into your relationship with Bucky. Based on Colbie Caillat’s Bubbly.

Word Count: 1,436

Contains: Excessive amounts of fluff.


Originally posted by enochianess

Bucky stops in his tracks, making Steve retrace his steps back to the flower shop. Bucky is admiring flowers and he grins. “Didn’t know you were into flowers now, Buck.”

Bucky scoffs, digging his elbow into Steve’s ribs. “Shut up. They’re not for me.”

“For Y/N?”

“They remind me of her,” says Bucky.

Steve smiles at him. Bucky is happy, he is actually healing from everything and is smiling more often than not and it makes Steve want to run back to the tower and find you, hug you as tight as he can.

“Buy her the flowers,” offers Steve.

“Should I?” Bucky’s forehead is creased and Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah, she’ll love them, man.”

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How they react...

…To a variety of goodbyes.


♡ ♡ \ Request from anonymous / ♡ ♡

Could you do a preference (males only if that’s okay) when they’re trying to say goodbye before leaving but end up giving in and taking you with them because theyd miss you too much? Tysm!

NOTE

I have changed this request slightly to add more variety

whilst still staying along the subject of goodbyes.

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