Jack loved nothing more than the way Bitty could perch on his hips. He was small enough to fit perfectly there, like he belonged nowhere else. Jack loved nothing more than being able to rest his hands at the curve of Bitty’s waist as his boyfriend chattered about his day, his classes, who said what and, “bless her heart but she has no idea who she’s dealing with.”
Jack couldn’t get enough of the cute way Bitty would put a hand to his chest, shake his head back and forth, dark eyes wide, sun from the window glinting off his freckles.
There were few things in his life that had ever truly made Jack happy. Not just content, not just fulfilled, but happy. The warm, soft feeling in the centre of his chest that was more than just belonging. He could count two hands, really, how many times he’d felt it.
The first time his dad had called him son without hesitation–with certainty and pride in his tone.
Leaving his first history class at Samwell and knowing that for all he missed hockey, there was something else he was allowed to love as well.
Walking across the stage at Graduation knowing he’d earnt all of that on his own–not on his dad’s name, not on his reputation. Something that was just his.
Kissing Bittle in his old room, and knowing he still had a chance. He hadn’t missed out.
Scoring his first NHL goal, holding that puck in his hand after the game and knowing that while he might be in the NHL because of his father, he would show he could earn his right to be there as he was.
And then there was this. Then there were the quiet, lazy afternoons between games on his sofa, with Bitty in his lap exactly where he belonged. There was the faint scent of pie–baked earlier and cooling on the counter. The afternoon sun was warm through the blue curtains Bitty picked out when they were decorating. Everything in this place had Bitty’s touch, and Jack didn’t think it felt like home until one day he opened up his dresser drawer and saw a stack of Bitty’s shorts there. And in the bathroom, where a second toothbrush sat next to his. And a small pair of trainers by the door–not as worn as his own, but used. Used on Providence pavement, with the promise they would be used again.
Yes. This is what he lived for. The rest were just…details.
yknow just thinking about magnus bane on his knees with a knife in his hand, fingerless gloves, splatter of blood across his cheek, smirking and rising like the fucking king of a battlefield, the wind playing with his coat as he steps forward and buries his knife into someone’s neck, fingers curled in their hair, the sun glinting off of his rings
“It seems like Paris’s
Power Couple is making all sorts of advancements in their relationship
lately. From what Chat Noir tweeted this
morning, it seems wedding bells are in their future.”
Marinette turned back to the television, scrunching up her
nose. “Chat Noir’s tw—” She broke off,
gasping as a picture of her took up the screen. She was on her stomach in bed, the sheet pulled up to her shoulder
blades. Her hair was splayed out on the
pillow, and the angle Adrien had taken the picture at kept it so the only part
of her face visible was part of her nose and mouth, a slight smile on her
lips. The morning sun streamed in
through the window just right to make her almost glow. Her left hand was on the pillow near her
face, and the glint of sun off her ring finger was enough to skew the details
of the ring but not what it meant. She
looked gorgeous, and she really wished he’d used a different picture. That was forever Ladybug. She couldn’t gush over how good she looked
with Alya, unless she wanted to pretend they weren’t talking about her.
But it was the caption that had the reporters freaking out,
scrawled across the bottom of the screen with the kittens in Santa
hats that served as Chat’s profile picture.
Had a purr-fect night
with the future Mme. Noir. We’ll let her sleep a little longer #SheSaidYes
She caught Adrien’s eye, her face stretching into a smile that matched his as her fingers played with her ring. Whether it was the furture Mme. Noir or the future Mme. Agreste, she was his and he was hers and she couldn’t be happier.
In all honestly, it was a miracle that Alya hadn’t bombarded her
with the news yet. Because that was clearly an
engagement announcement if she’d ever seen one.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, her best friend’s face
lighting up the screen. Spoke too soon.
EDIT: Since this has been getting a bunch of notes lately, I thought I’d add that this fic Do You Hear That Love? is up now, so please go check it out! :D
I closed our front door and twirled the car keys around my finger. Through the giant bay window I saw my beautiful wife sidling a chair up to the table. Our two boys, four and eight, sat dutifully on the same side waiting for dessert. It was a decent home. It was a decent life.
I tried to ignore the rusted panel van as it passed by in the cul de sac. Couldn’t resist, though. The driver gave me a nod. Two men piled out in my driveway, pulling masks over their faces. The corner of my eye caught the last of the sun glinting on their axes in the rearview.
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.
mid-morning sun glinted in the light drizzle, steadily being sprinkled from the
cloudy skies above. As the pair of you walked, hands clasped tightly together,
occasionally jumping over puddles that had formed the night before, in the dips
and crevices of the cobbled streets.
the corner, a strong smell of fish assaulted your nostrils, while the seagulls
incessant squawking pierced at your ears. Newt’s grasp on your hand tightened
slightly, bringing it to his lips, and placing a gentle kiss to your simple
wedding band, that he had given you only a year ago, a sad smile on his
his battered brown leather case between large feet, he began rummaging about
his pockets with his spare hand, he pulled out a slightly crumpled letter. “don’t
open this just yet love, or we’ll both be in tears.’ He chuckled lightly as he
pushed your hair from your eyes, leaning into his gentle touch, placing a chaste
kiss to his work worn palm, before taking the letter from him.
you’ll be careful?’ you requested
wearily, as he gave you a slightly mischievous smile, ‘I always am
love.’ You snorted “oh I think that bite scar on your waist, begs to differ.’ Giving
his slender waist a light squeeze, “it wasn’t his fault. He was treated so
poorly by humans .’
the final warning to board the ship bellowed through the misty air, ringing in
your ears, and cutting off newt’s lamenting. Dread filled your stomach, at the sound,
as tears pricked your usually bright eyes. Of course you were thrilled and beyond
excited for Newt, this journey would be the making of him, you knew that, and reminded
him of it whenever he had doubts about this adventure. With all of the will in
the world, that wasn’t going to stop you from missing him. His silly habits, that
lopsided smile, those sea green eyes that twinkle when he laughs, his warm cuddles,
and gentle touches and his boundless kindness.
began to grow in your chest, as the last stragglers began to clamber on board. Kissing
in public wasn’t something that you and newt did often, but these were special circumstances,
stares be damned, you grabbed newt by the lapels of his coat and pulled him
down to meet your lips, in a desperate slightly watery goodbye kiss. You poured
all of the love that you processed for this caring, irritating man into the
kiss, with the blind hope that it might be enough to last.
pulled away all too soon, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you, more
than you know. Please don’t forget that. I promise I’ll write as often as I
can.’ His own eyes gleaming with tears, as he reluctantly let your hand go, he made
his way up the gangway and onto the ship, giving you one final wave, before he
ducked his way inside.
You wake to the sound of the waves washing against the shore, the sound of sea birds in the air. Dawn is a delicate pink on the horizon and you watch the early morning sun glint on the surface of the sea. A warm, sleepy sound beside you and she is awake as well, breathing in the salt air that drifts through the window.
Small, quick fish flitted around Patroclus’ feet in the water. He flexed his toes, entranced by the movement and the sun glinting off of the water. He thought of Achilles, and the way his feet hit earth, agile and swift. And the water, like Achilles, with sun shining from his hair, the green seaweed floating is the sparkle of his eyes. Eventually, the fish scattered away, off into the ocean, out of Patroclus’ sight.
There’s tragedy in the way the dust curls with the wind; there is
tragedy in the way the cross stands slightly askew; there is tragedy in
the way the sun glints off the gold in his hand
Rating: Teen and Up Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Relationship: Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Roy Harper & Jason Todd Tags: Western AU, hurt!jason, pining!roy, Star Gazing, mentions of abuse, Blood, soft cowboys in love, also animal death so… Words: 8396 Chapters: 1/1
Too much falls, like a cliff crumbling
Too slowly to see the end
Sinking closer to the ocean
Feeling at first alluring smell
Of salt’s home, the soft crash of waves
The sun glinting off caving ground
Like expert surfer going home
Hands out watching me lose
Thinking I’m riding waves
Looking up at crumbling cliff and
All of them too far out of reach
With waves of salt breaking her face
Dreams of hot desert sand fills their minds, back in a time when Upper and Lower Egypt were still separated. They stalk and pounce on anyone preying on the weak. All have some kind of weapon collection, whether of swords, bows and arrows, books on fighting styles form around the globe or other more specialized weapons. Some are medical students, learning what compounds take life away or keep life going. Rays of the morning sun glint off of the gold and carnelian they wear. Some are accomplished dancers or singers, other songwriters that pluck strings and shake tambourines to send praise up on high to the Sun and down below to the Sand. Some teach self defense classes to anyone who wants to stop being a gazelle and become a lion or lioness instead.
They sing and dance for Her, pampering themselves with wine to soothe the Lioness on Her prowl.
A fluffy little drabble. I’m not going to pretend this isn’t totally sappy.
The fall air was cool as you gazed out over the valley –
absentmindedly noting the glint of sun reflecting off a car winding its way
through the gully. Sitting down on the porch stair, you flipped through your
phone, hoping for a message from Cas – disappointed, as with each time you checked,
to find nothing. He’d been radio silent for months - ever since you broke his
heart. It was just after a hunt, one that nearly cost you your life - it was
the moment you decided to get out of the game for good. Cas caught you by
surprise as you packed your few belongings from the bunker, confessing his love
for you, imploring you to stay, promising to watch over you. In truth, you
loved him too, but you also wanted something normal - a life and a family you
knew you couldn’t have with the angel. You told him as much. Closing your eyes,
you could still perceive the hurt in his blue eyes as he averted them from you,
the clamminess of your hand when he dropped it from his warm grasp, the
rejection in his tone, the last words he uttered to you before vanishing, simply,
“I understand.” Shuddering, you hugged your arms to your chest, willing away
the coldness of the memory. You stood, taking in the empty porch, the absolute
quiet of the property stretching out in all directions, “So much for the normal
life.” The rumble of a car on the long stone drive suddenly broke through the
silence. Shielding your eyes from the setting sun as you walked down toward the
drive, you wondered if Sam and Dean were finally making good on their promise
to drop by. Unexpectedly, you were greeted by the familiar outline of Cas’
“Hello Y/N,” he nodded with a small smile, “It’s good to see
“Cas!” You bounded forward, engulfing him in your arms, “I
“As did I you,” he returned your embrace, fidgeting uncertainly
in your grasp, “I’m sorry for my absence, but there was much to do before…I
“Are you okay?” You leaned back, holding him by the
shoulders, searching his eyes – it wasn’t like the angel to stumble for words,
“Yes,” his blue eyes were open wide, nervous, meeting your
questioning gaze. Fumbling in his pocket, he proffered you a small trinket box.
With a curious smile, you accepted it, opening the top to
discover a ring - the center stone emitting brilliant azure light from within,
band encircled by ebony wings - the breath hitched in your throat.
“My grace,” his voice no more than a gravelly whisper, eyes fixed
on yours, studying your reaction, “it’s yours.”
You delicately brushed a finger over the stone. Shaking your
head, speechless, you stared back at him, disbelieving.
Emboldened by your silence, he went on, “As it turns out, in
all of creation an angel has the unique distinction of being able to fall both
figuratively and literally in love,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I fell
Eyes beginning to well over with tears, you snapped the box
closed, thrusting it back into his chest, “I understand.”
“Oh,” his gaze dropped, sullen, heart visibly sinking.
“Cas,” you gently caressed his chin to reassure him. Leaning
forward you pressed a tender kiss to his lips, moving to whisper in his ear, “when
a man gives a ring to the woman he loves, there is usually a question attached.
And my answer is yes.”
His face brightened, a wide smile spreading across his
features, crinkling into the corners of his eyes and nose, “Oh!”
You grinned as he slid the ring onto your finger – slipping
his hand around your waist and pulling you close, capturing your lips with his.
The morning sun glinted through Lillie’s bedroom window, a sun catcher fracturing the light into rainbows across the far wall of the room. She had insisted on me staying at her house after I’d explained my father’s horrible choice.
Lillie, asleep in her large bed at the moment, had suggested I send either Hau or Kukui to my mother before breaking the news to her. She wouldn’t be alone when her heart was shattered, at least. I’d sent Hau a message before going to sleep the night before - instructing him to call me when time permitted.