hazy afternoon

An Important Occasion

Summary: Adrien is very excited to celebrate his first anniversary with Marinette. A little too excited, maybe.

Words: 996

Notes: Happy birthday to @ladyofacat who likes Adrien giving Marinette expensive presents.


Out of the tiny velvet box came the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes upon. The chain was sterling—no, white gold. It was so delicate, so soft and smooth that it felt as if it would melt in her palm. Lovingly cradled against that chain were six gemstones, each about the size of her fingertip. They were a deep azure, like the color of a moonless night; but oh, there were galaxies inside those tiny stones. All hues of red, gold, purple, and green wove tiny, star-kissed nebulae in every little sky. Hazy afternoon sun glinted off of the chain as she held it up to the light, and the colors quivered and danced as if alive. Awed, she drew in a small breath through her parted lips and let her eyes wander from one end of the chain to the other.

The soft voice beside her pulled her from her admiration. “Happy anniversary,” said Adrien, her boyfriend of precisely four weeks. His tone was hopeful and tentatively questioning, asking for approval; or, at the very least, some kind of response. A response she had heretofore, in her surprise, failed to provide.

Keep reading

oliverwvvd  asked:

You asked for procrastination material. Procrastination is my jam, so here we go. Flintwood (maybe some 'the war is over and they realise they've fallen hard' headcanons? entirely up to you, of course, my dear).

  • during the war, Marcus and Oliver find a clear overlapping ground in which their care for quidditch has to be put to the side, and their familial focus comes first
  • Wood isn’t too prominent of a name - Flint is. 
  • but by some turn of events 
  • (involving a death eater with a vendetta against quidditch’ ‘non-purity’, a rogue bludger amidst a nasty match, and terrified players apparating far far away)
  • three dark months happen, before the battle at Hogwarts, where they’re the only ones hiding in a safe house
  • and somewhere in between sleepless nights and moonlit skies and one firewhiskey hazy afternoon, Oliver realizes that he and Flint aren’t so different after all
  • except he goes to fight, but Marcus keeps his head low. It makes sense, really, when Oliver thinks about it afterwards - you can’t shoot curses and spells at people who you’ve known, who know you.
  • it makes sense in a Slytherin sort of way. a Marcus sort of way. and Oliver thinks he finally gets that
  • when he returns, he makes sure the wards are secure, and the door opens with a tell-tale creak, and he’s sure Marcus must’ve left, must’ve fled 
  • (there’s a hollowness in his chest, a panic that he can now put a name to, at the thought of that)
  • but then Flint is there, sitting immobile at the tabletop, rigid with fear and stubble and dark eye circles, wand clenched in hand
  • he sees Oliver and all the tension seems to evaporate off his shoulders
  • “it’s done?”
  • “it’s over.”
  • the chair screeches across the tiled floor and Oliver feels the urge he’s been fighting off for months resurface at the clear relief that Marcus’ face is showing - and he wonders what more Flint had at stake in the war, how much more there was than what Marcus had told him amidst midnight talks and - 
  • then Marcus is a foot in front of him and looking like he wants to crumple in Oliver’s arms. 
  • “didn’t realize,” his voice is quiet, “how much you - are to me. how much you mean.”
  • and Oliver realizes Marcus has put the name to the feeling as well. the same heart wrenching need and care that’s come to existence
  • “oh,” Oliver whispers, “oh, me too.”
  • and Marcus, in all his frazzled, relieved glory, steps closer and leans down and then the pieces all slot together and this - 
  • they won. they won, today, but this will always be Oliver’s personal victory.
Better (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Word Count: Around 4k

Rating: M

Song I listened to while writing: “Same Old Same Old” by The Civil Wars

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, mention of bullet wound

Excerpt:  And maybe it’s the time, or the stress of the conversation, or the barely perceptible hum of pre-storm tension that’s been ever-present whenever the two of you are in the same room since that day in the diner, but suddenly, something is making you very aware of the older man in a way that you weren’t before. It’s something in the air. Something in the air has changed, gotten thicker or stronger or more pressing, but somehow you can feel it, and you get the feeling that somehow—somehow—Logan can, too.

Keep reading


in the dim soft light of my drawn blinds
                              and the setting sun
your smile disarming and angled away is forever
still in my mind, the shape of your face in
                    (that forgotten moment, a scene
                    from a fever dream or a
                    familiar scene of home so knowing and
                    so secretive, these days I
                              doubt it existed, precisely, prematurely, permanently)

the shape of your face in that soft split second
awash with pink light of six in the late hazy afternoon
was a daguerreotype of a landscape I never visited

yet with the sunset expanse of chance laid out before me in the heath and the long grasses, all the same;
it stung and it was fleeting and it was mine.


I lie prone on my bed grasping at straws.
perhaps it fluctuated
between practiced smiles, graciousness
          (chasing the removal of your mask, not
          small talk not
and the indescribable
the tug of my hand, blurred with movement
and the shaking of yours dark
with that emotion propelling both
the dappled shade of wilting leaves in summer
and the hardening of your jaw, mourning.

both of us are lost in the rolling
hills turning purple with forgetting and engulfed
under the whistling wind; dwarfed
by coarsely painted idyll
and the shadow of regret.

all the swathes of what could’ve been and probably never was– enclosed
and folded in the small short rueful curve of your smile,
and gone now
save for the corner of a daydream in my mind’s eye.

Rosie & Tomlin


What was Morocco like? You look like you’re from another world, quare lovely.

It was beautiful, crisp hot stone heat with painted skies and hazy afternoons.  Nothing makes fruit taste as sweet as salted sweat and sandy feet. I loved it.  Lovely to see such a beautiful word amongst the rabble. You’ll be Irish then? I’ve oft been told I look like I’ve stepped from a wee den.

Secret love

Request: Can you please do an imagine where newt has a crush on you but is too scared to tell you, then you and the gladers all play truth or dare and someone dares him to kiss you and he gets all nervous then later he confesses his love for  you. ( lots of fluff!!) thanks so much!!

Warnings: Fluff, depression mentions

The day was getting hazy in the late afternoon and you had just finnished working in the gardens. You sat down and rested your back against one of the large trees on the outskirts of the deadheads. Today,you felt completely content with yourself and your surroundings. However, you found it hard to believe you could feel so at peace in the glade. Softly you smiled as you watched the rest of the boys finnish up for the day.

It’s almost been a whole year since you arrived in the box into the glade and you couldnt believe how much you had changed as a person. At first you were a frightened powerless girl and now you’re a strong inderpendent woman. That was all because of one boy who changed you. Newt.

You liked Newt like crazy from the moment that you came out of the box. You’d never told him of course. He was you bestfriend and you didnt want to make things weird between you two. You did everything for eachother. When he got depressed and needed support, you were the one who stayed up with him till three in the morning, holding him while he cried buckets of tears. You saved his life twice in the past nine months, he got to the point(again) where he had had enough of everything. Of being trapped, of being stuck, of not being able to really live, of not knowing who he was. He helped you just as much, the nights when you had bad dreams he’d cradle you back to sleep and help you with you work in the gardens everyday, and everyday when you showered, he would stand outside watching, to make sure no one walked in. For you, it’s the little things he did to make you happy.

You were sure he only saw you as a friend. Positive. If anything was going to happen, it would’ve happened already right? Constantly, day and night, your thoughts about him drove you absoloutly insane. Seeing him smile and laugh with you everyday was so hard when you couldn’t just grab him and passionatly kiss him. You hated it.


You knew that voice anywhere, you didnt have to look up.

“Oh, hi Newt.” you replied, smiling brightly at him while the flashing sun made your eyes dazzle.

He sat beside you and you could smell his scent as his head leaned against your sholder. You didnt want to talk. You just wanted to sit there and enjoy the moment together.

Of course it wasnt going to last long before Thomas came and sat infront of you both.  Smiling bashfully.

“aye, shank, what do you want?” newt joked with him.

“we’ll were all playing a game over there.” He motioned closer towards the soft patch of grass near the homestead. You and newt didn’t have time to reply because Thomas was already pulling you across the glade.

The sun was beinging to set but the day was still bright. You hated it when the sun was gone. Thats when the darkness came into sight, and into mind. 

Already, Gally, Chuck Minho, jeff, Alby and some of the other gladers were sat in a circle.

“So whats this game were playing?” You asked to the whole group.

Chuck stood up excitedly and begun.” Well, you see, today when Minho was running he came up with this really good game idea, where-.” Chuck was cut of by Minho.

“Where you ask someone ‘truth or dare’ and they choose which one they want, and then  the rest of the gladers ever think of a question to ask them or a dare for them to do. Got it?” Minho asked. You noodded as you and Newt sat next to eachother on the ground.

“So shanks, who’s first?” Gally laughed.

Instantly Chuck raised his hand, excited like a very small child.

“I choose…Hmm, dare!” His eyes lightened up.

“Okay Chuckie.” Gally mocked.“I dare you to go steal Clints clothes while he’s in the shower.”

For some reason, Chuck found it hillarious and ran off giggling into the misty evening. Others laughed in anticipation waiting to see what was comming up.

“So? who goes next?” Jeff asked.

“Well, (Y/N) can, as she was next to Chuck, and then we just go round in the circle.” Minho smartly answered.

“(Y/N), truth or dare?” Alby asked.


“Do you like anyone in the glade?”

“Yes.” You replied, short and sweetly.

“Who?” Alby questioned wanting to know more.

“No, you asked if i liked anyone, not who I like.” You smirked, pround of you smart evaluation.“I don’t have to asnswer that.” Alby glared at you unhappily, it was obvious all of the gladers wanted to know who it was.

“Anyway."Thomas cleared the lodge in his throat. "Newt, tuth or dare.”

“Dare, Tommy.” Newt pursed his lips together and stared directly at Thomas.

“I dare you to…Kiss (Y/N).”

Most of the boys jeered and mummered between eachother. Newt looked at you, then back at Thomas and he didn’t budge. You was nervous, but you wanted this to happen. His face told you he didn’t. He was shuffling uncomfortably, head looking to the floor and anger striking across his face.

“No.” He said sharply. He threw is arms out and said “Forget this.” And he walked of to the homestead.

Everyone was stunned and no-one knew what had just happened. You wer in shock. You tried to hold back your tears for aslong as possible  but you couldnt last much longer. You excused yourself and walked back to your room as fast as possible. As soon as you got through the door, tears flooded your eyes.
You wasnt upset because he wouldn’t kiss you, you were upset because he made you feel stupid. So, so, so stupid. You layed face front on your bed and cried yourself to sleep.

“(Y/N), (Y/N.)”

half awake, half asleep  someone was calling your name. You didnt know if you were dreaming or if it was a reality. Someone was shaking you, lightly, to wake you up. It was pitch black, early hours of the morning and you couldnt see who was bending over you.
You screemed loudly and the figures hand covered your mouth.

“Shuck sake (Y/N), its only me.” You then realised it was Newt from the thick British accent. You almost forgot you were angry at him.

“Newt, go away.” you pulled your covers over your head refusing to talk to him.

“No, (Y/N) im not going to go away, im gonig to explain myself whether you’re going to listen or not.

You didn’t move. He sighed and begun.

"You know, well, um, basically, that day when you came up from the box, something changed around here for me. and well I didn’t realise it till your first night."He laughed."You remember, when you were throwing up so much and i sat with you all night holding your hair back for you? When i rubbed your stomach to make you feel better, and I made sureyou drank some water every hour. Well, I just want you to know, thats not something I would do for everyone.”

You got a tingly feeling in your stomach.

“And you saved my life…twice and I’ve saved yours. We’ve laughed together, cried together, spent our best and worst times together and i wouldnt want it any other way. Do you remember the day when I tripped up on my bad leg and I couldnt walk (Y/N), you carried me back to the medjacks and then you bandaged up my ankle? And I brushed your hair away from your face and just stared for a while? Thats when I definatly knew that… I was in love with you.”

You sat in silence for a moment, what? He was really in love with you.
You pulled the blanket up from over your head and you sat up facing him. Your face was still puffy from crying and Newt noticed.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N)” He looked unhappy with himself. “Baby…I really didnt mean to upset you. Its just that-”

He cupped his hand on your face and brushed away the strands from your hair and stared at your face.

“The reason I didn’t want to kiss you then (Y/N) was because I wanted our first kiss to be special, not with those shuck faces staring at us. I want it to be real.”

The he leaned in a his lips touched yours, so, softlly, he was being gentle with you, he wanted to be soft. For a few more seconds he held onto the kiss and then pulled you close. He held you tight his arm wrapped around you, his fingers running over yours, stroking your hands.

“I love you (Y/N)”

“Newt, I love you too.”

He pulled you in closer to kiss you again .

Im sorry it took so long, I was so busy over the weekend! But i hope you enjoy this!

soft and hazy afternoon naps, dream a bit and everything is right, everything is cast in a warm golden glow and everything is right and waking up is the hardest part

Filtered sunlight and soft hazy afternoons.

You say you love me.

And I think we should leave it at this. On calm waters, sparkling, and suspended like jellyfish in oceans. We’d walk away with the moon at our feet.

And you will remember me standing right there. On the shoreline. Looking at you. Like we never left.

—  A Scribbler// How We Should Leave Things
Signs as feelings during summer...

Aries: sunny days
Taurus: sleeping in
Gemini: sparklers
Cancer: hazy summer afternoons
Leo: bonfires
Virgo: relief that school is done
Libra: fun beach drinks
Scorpio: swimming on a hot day
Sagittarius: feeling of freedom
Capricorn: long nights with friends
Aquarius: dripping ice cream
Pisces: fireflies

favourite summer aesthetics -

  1. warm, hazy afternoons. bedroom windows slightly ajar; white curtains swaying imperceptibly in silent heated breeze. distant 6pm banter of children playing, fingers sugar sticky with melted popsicles. bare feet on damp grass; the air rich of salt and flowers, nectarous and apathetic.

  2. eyelids heavy, limbs languid. salt dried hair. muffled sounds from a neighbours television. thoughts, dreamy and listless. drowsy bones. phantasmic light swirls at the bottom of a swimming pool. the static laughter of a friend leaning on you.

  3. chlorine soaked epidermis. the unapproachable buzz of chicadas. purple-pink sunsets. earthquake weather, metallic heat. the air still and somehow restless at the same time. knee deep in ocean hues. empty cities. nostalgia burning soft and subtle under sun kissed skin.
Nuit de baise || belladonna-of-thraneal


The slightest breeze.

It was all that kept this near still day moving. 

Not a cloud sat above- the sky itself was blue and hazy on this late afternoon. In fact, it was this sort of day that made post cards and advertisements for the South of France- and had made it so popular.

It was a paradise- an escape.

And to Leo and Belle, that’s exactly what it was. No S.H.I.E.L.D, no Kingsmen after them (the trail had seemingly gone cold after the North Sea incident).

Just them, alone.

And Leo was, happy, really. Though, as he kissed the second love of his life and thought how lucky he was…he swore there was a nagging feeling to all of it.

One he was fighting to repress.

“I was thinking we could take the Peugeot Provenance this weekend? Or…tomorrow.” Joy peppered his words- every bit of his touch and expression. He wanted this. He needed this.

But unconsciously, he felt like he was simply wearing a new mask.