They’re walking the streets of Greenwich when it occurs to
Eggsy that he is perfectly happy.
It’s not a thunderbolt of discovery. Nothing like that. More
like a quiet revelation, a simple realisation. Halfway back to the bus stop,
under skies that threaten rain any moment, and Eggsy can say with absolute
honesty that he’s never been so happy before.
It’s impossible to hide his smile then, and he doesn’t even
try. Why should he? He walks along, smiling widely, and when Harry gives him a
mildly curious look, he just shrugs. He can’t put it into words, not without
sounding like a complete idiot.
Harry smiles back, a bit tentative, not in on the joke, not
quite sure if he should. In his current mood Eggsy finds that caution
endearing, and he has a sudden – but mercifully brief – urge to laugh out loud.
They haven’t even done anything special today. The trip to
Greenwich wasn’t planned, but Merlin needed someone to keep an eye on a couple
locations that have been earmarked for suspicious activity. A few trackers and
some cameras later, the work part of their day was done, and since then he and
Harry have just been walking.
Lunch was a few hours ago. Nothing special, just some
sandwiches in a shop, their table in the window so they could watch the street
corner Kingsman wants observed. They wandered along with a few tour groups, but
Harry flatly refused to pay the entrance fee at the Royal Observatory, so
they had turned in a different direction then.
But longitude knows no restrictions, and so some distance
away, Eggsy had found himself standing with one foot each in two different time
zones. He had thrown his arms out wide and yelled, “Help, I’m being pulled
apart by time and space!”
Harry had smiled indulgently, his eyes alight with amusement behind the
Kingsman glasses, holding his Rainmaker just below the curved part of the
handle. And when he reached out a hand to pull Eggsy off the Prime Meridian and
onto “safety,” Eggsy had held on just a little bit longer than was
strictly necessary – and Harry had let him.
The train back to London leaves in an hour. Plenty of time
for them to get the bus to the station, push through the crowd of people, and
take their seats. They’ll sit across from each other and Eggsy will discreetly
press Harry’s foot with his own, and grin at him. They’ll stop somewhere for
dinner, then go home and do the laundry they were supposed to have done
yesterday. And at some point Harry will walk past him and give him an absent
kiss, and Eggsy will turn toward him and that’ll be it. Chores will be
forgotten in the sweet rush of hands and lips and bare skin.
That’s really it, he thinks. The reason he’s so happy even
in a grimy city under glowering skies. Because wherever he is, he has Harry.
Someone he can turn to, someone he can kiss.
That’s all he needs.
“You seem quite pleased with yourself,” Harry
Eggsy nods. He’s still smiling like an idiot, but he doesn’t
care. “I am."
"Any reason in particular?” Harry asks.
Eggsy looks at him, and he doesn’t think he’s ever loved
Harry more than he does in this moment.
Summary: What if initially Ladybug had fallen for Chat Noir, and Adrien had fallen for Marinette? A look into what their lives might have been. A time lapse/reveal fic.
Pairings: Mostly Adrinette, but all four corners of the love square are included so there is also LadyNoir, Ladrien, MariChat, and a hint of DJWifi
Author’s Notes: Just saw there’s an Adrinette month, but I’ve been writing this since mid-March. This fits with day 18 so I’m a bit early (but I’m on vacation then). I’ll be writing other one shots to go with it in the future. I’m also terrible at writing one shots under 20 pages.
Marinette sometimes wondered to herself what the huge fuss over Adrien Agreste was. While she certainly thought Adrien was cute, she would never even consider being a doe-eyed fan girl like Chloe. He was a kind hearted boy and quite good looking, but she wasn’t going to let herself get hung up over him like the other girls in her class.
She sometimes thought that perhaps it was because they didn’t have a starry eyed beginning. After all, she thought he’d put gum on her chair to bully her because he was a friend of Chloe’s. Thankfully, it had all been cleared up that afternoon when the skies had threatened rain. He’d explained the truth and been kind enough to give her his umbrella. It was movie material for sure, and yet, here she was, one of the few girls in all of Paris who wasn’t tripping over her heels for him.
“I don’t get it, girl,” Alya reprimanded her between bites of pastry one day at lunch. “He’s a skinny, blonde, rich, model- what’s not to like? Plus the fact he flirts with you like crazy.”
“He does not flirt with me like crazy,” she deadpanned back.
“C’mon, Marinette, that’s a lie. He totally likes you, and I just don’t get why you don’t like him.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, “I do like him, but as a friend.”
Oh, there’s also the fact that, not too long before she’d met Adrien, her heart had already fallen for a mischievous masked cat boy…
#we’ve gotta talk about how hal and matt respond to threats to their lives #particularly to having guns pointed at them #instead of being scared into compliance #they fearlessly yell insults at their assailants #hal provoking them further by daring them to attack him #and matt by swatting away their weapon like it’s only a minor annoyance #these two are literally too fearless for their own good #they will stand their ground even in death
Request: You’re so cute omg hahaha (A/N: i’m not sure what was happening when this request was sent in but thank you lol). Do you think you could write Jisoo angst that ends in either fluff or just satisfying closure? The plot is completely up to you as is the AU
Whenever it rained, it rained until it flooded. The streets
would be congested with inexperienced drivers; the trees would be swaying back
and forth, threatening to fall. The skies would be darker than the night sky
with clouds that blocked out the warm sun. The people wouldn’t be any better.
When it rained, it seemed like the entire town decided this was the best time
to sulk. No one would be in a good mood and everyone would just seem a tiny bit
depressed. In this town—your town—no one liked it when it rained.
However, you liked it. You liked the foreboding smell before
the storm comes and you liked the smell of the aftermath. You liked watching
the clouds as they gathered together, moving in from one side or the other. You
didn’t understand why people became idiots when it rained. Was it that hard to
understand? It’s just water falling from the sky—it wasn’t like it was
something new. You liked going out whenever it rained—it calmed you.
Approximately two months ghosted by. During those two months, Izaya gradually healed, his leg getting back to normal and finally getting off those damned crutches, which he quickly got annoyed with the first few weeks he had them.
He had not traveled to Ikebukuro during those two months, instead worked out of his apartment and basically laid low. He could not let his many enemies find him in such a wounded and vulnerable state. Oddly enough, Miro, another information broker hung around. They got to know each other better and Izaya found that he didn’t mind the other broker hanging around so often. He even helped him work.
Their relationship changed from being simply business related to that of almost friends…..and on one particular night, their relationship skyrocketed to that of lovers, but only because of the large sum of wine they had consumed before hand. They didn’t ever go passed making out though, since both had passed out while attempting to go further. The morning after, the two had been sprawled across Izaya’s couch and when they had both awoke, they laughed it off and Miro cursed, jokingly saying he had “missed his one and only chance to sleep with Izaya.”
Now-a-days, Miro would catch Izaya off guard and lightly kiss the informant anywhere he could, whether it be his cheek, forehead or lips. Izaya was oddly comfortable with where they were at, wherever that was. Miro seemed to be comfortable as well, so the two never questioned what their relationship was.
Winter was just around the corner, so Ikebukuro was growing colder and the skies threatened either rain or snow. The winter months made Izaya feel particularly lazy, but only because during the winter months, people stayed inside more often, therefore there wasn’t much excitement brewing.
So, currently, Izaya was sitting at his usual computure chair, sometimes spinning around in it as he waited for something exciting to pop up. The chat rooms were dull, people hardly logging on ever and the Dollars site had been quiet. Speaking of the Dollars, the whole incident two months ago blew by. The city talked about it for a while and then it disappeared like it never happened. Neither Izaya nor Mikado were mentioned at all.
Izaya placed his elbow on his desk and rested his hand on his cheek. He hadn’t seen the boy since that day at Russia Sushi after they got discharged from the hospital. He often thought about him, he didn’t know why, but he did and when he did…..a sullen feeling came over him, so he pushed Mikado away from his thoughts.
In hindsight, Marinette should have known not to agree to get the groceries after she was done at the fabric store. Her arms were now weighted down with several bags, some even piled on top of each other. She could barely see over the top.
Maybe she should have called Alya for help. Though she was just a block away from home, she could make it. She just needed to ignore the burning pain that had been shooting through her arms for the past two blocks.
She froze tensing as a passing car splashed water all over her.
did she forget to mention it had just finished down pouring and the skies were threatening to do so again?
This video just won Vimeo’s Best Travel Video of the year award. A pair of skiiers explore several locations in China, including skiing into the Caldera of Changbaishan volcano on the North Korean border, and in the process explore some of the history of skiing as a method of travel and survival for some of the indigenous populations - a tradition now being threatened by modernization.
Is it a one shot? Is it a drabble? Does it make sense? Who even knows? Yeah, I sure as hell don’t - I typed it down before bed in fifteen minutes. I’m terrible, I know.
Those two, over there? The boy with the bat, swinging ferociously at something entirely too dangerous to compete with and the girl… The girl with the strawberry blonde hair standing behind him - holding back the scream that burns her throat because she knows it will end in ear piercing tragedy. Watch them, watch as they move together, dodge stray bullets and claws of unknown demons. The cover each other with wide, worried eyes and white knuckles that grip the other’s hand. They’re a marvel to behold, a danger to approach - because when they’re together, they’ll fight for each other. Weapons they don’t know how to use will be brandished and both boy and girl will run faster and harder than they have before. Tears of both terror and relief will be shed and cries of despair and reassurance will be whispered into the others neck and hair. Those two, the human and the banshee - together, they’re lethal.
just barely into the boundaries of the national park is the trailhead of lewis creek, which eventually leads to some incredibly remote backcountry areas though this was only a quick 5 mile out-and-back for us.
The evening skies threatened rain though never much fell, and lewis creek managed to stay out of view for most of the hike. We were pretty stoked to see a big black bear near where we parked the truck, though by the time we had the camera ready it had disappeared into the woods.
Houses in the Rego Park section of Queens as the storm approached today. I heard the thunder and wanted to get someplace safe and dry, but this was too good a picture to pass up. So I got a little wet. It was worth it.
Violet knew that sitting in the snow would probably cause people to ask a lot of questions if they bothered to pay attention. ‘Aren’t you cold? What are you doing? Why are you such a freakish loner you can’t even be a loner inside where you don’t end up with a wet ass?’ being a few examples she could think of. But she’d had to get out. All of the people around me, all of the casual contact was making her twitchy as fuck, and she’d needed to get out before she lost control and started attacking the idiots around her.
She hadn’t actually spoken to anyone since she’d gotten back to school, avoiding her sort of friends and taking even more circuitous routes to class so she could avoid any of the people who enjoyed making her life miserable. However, even that hadn’t been enough today, so she had escaped outside, under grey skies threatening even more snow, and settled under a tree with her book. The cold was almost nice, and she had stopped feeling it after a little while. So comfortable was she in her loneliness, she didn’t realize anyone was nearby until she heard the large crack of a twig. instantly, she had her shield spell up around her, looking around.
The first raindrops caught them by surprise, large dollops that splattered down onto the flagstone of the Inquisitor’s balcony from the threatening grey skies above. Not snow - Skyhold’s magical weather made snow unlikely, but it did not keep out the rain. All the same, there was a refreshingly sudden chill to it as one dripped onto his neck and slid beneath his coat. Sahlin gave a shudder and a laugh, looking up in delight.
And within moments it was coming down so quickly it was like the sky hand burst. The stone beneath his feet was darkened and damp, and he glanced back into Kaaras’s chambers with a soft laugh, feeling his hair gain weight as it collected water.
He caught sight of Kaaras and beckoned to him, drawing him out to the doorway with a soft, bright smile, just outside of the rain. But that was not enough, he sighed, gave a quiet little laugh, and then pulled him out into the storm with him. The water splattered onto his coat, dyeing the fabric a shade darker as it soaked into the thick wool, and Sahlin grinned reaching up and catching hold of his jaw with both hands, going up on his highest tiptoes to catch Kaaras in a slow, longing kiss before drawing back with breathless joy.
Stained glass skies overhead threaten to shatter at any instant. Kaito’s only half-there, staring at the clouds that go floating across the cerulean landscape in improbably perfect shapes. He’s afraid to even point to them as he explains their shapes, worried that a jabbing finger will shatter the illusion, and he’ll by lying on his stomach instead of his back, light from his bedroom window stinging against his eyes.
Instead he just voices his opinions to Miku, who in the dream sits next to him and voices her own theories in a cheerful soprano. And although, in these early morning hours, he knows it’s a dream, he can’t help treasuring every smile that he she gives him.
But reality triumphs in the end, as it always does. The gossamer is spun into strands too thin to hold anything, and soon the concrete sensations of his bedroom overcomes the imagined setting of his dream. He’s not in a grassy field admiring the clouds but lying on his stomach with sheets puddled around his waist and his arms. The sun and clouds fade, as does the grass and the sound of the birds chirping. The final thing to fade is Miku’s voice, but that doesn’t mean that she is gone. Far from it. Because when he opens his eyes, she’s laying right next to him.
There’s no disorientation, no confusion. All is right with the world and this is exactly where she’s meant to be, because she loves him. She said as much last night, before eyes that could hardly stay open coaxed her into his bed, not before she turned down his offer for him to sleep on the couch.
He props himself up slightly to look at her. She’s curled on her side, face serene and lips parted as she breathes steadily, in and out. Adoration wells up within him, in seeing her untroubled and still, and despite all of the heartache he’s been through for the past week, he can’t imagine anyone he’d rather see when he opens his eyes.
He considers getting up and getting ready for the day, but the sheets are warm against his legs and the sight is warm within his heart. Such moments are as fragile as stained-glass skies in dreams. Emotions can not exist in memories; moments of such love are fleeting and meant to be cherished.
So instead of getting up, he savors the moment for all it is worth, pulling the blankets up around them and wrapping his arms around her. He doesn’t want to wake her but he doesn’t want her to miss this exquisite moment, and so he sends gentle kisses to land against her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, tangling bare legs together and enjoying the sweetness of having her here with him.
Sky was flying around the Overworld, necklace around his neck glowing. Of course he was sorry for himself, but now it had to be done. Enderman following behind him. Thunderclouds began to fill the skies, lightning threatening to show itself.