1000% of flirting is done with your eyes if you don’t believe me watch this video 


F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gabsy.

“My dearest – But what more is there to be said? The things one says are always inadequate: it’s the touch of live hands, of lips pressed to lips that count. I want to hold you and say nothing. I want –”

I’ve been thinking a lot about this quote and how much it makes me think of the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. The Doctor shows his love for Rose through all these small touches. It’s the stroke of his thumb against the back of her hands when their fingers are entwined. It’s the way his hand runs up and down her spine, reverently mapping and memorizing each bump and dip as he does so, giving comfort and taking it. It’s the way he cups her cheek and the gentle way he presses his lips to her forehead, to her cheek. It’s unspoken affection and love that he gives her in a thousand different ways.

He utilizes all these small touches because the three words that the English language offers, that she would understand, seem woefully inadequate. They don’t do justice to the sheer enormity of how he feels about her. Millions of languages at his disposal and none of them can offer him a way of defining the warmth and longing and desire and belonging and acceptance that he feels when he’s with her.

(There’s a reason people say love is undefinable, he muses one night when the words almost slip from his mouth anyways. They know it’s an inadequate but they use it anyways. It’s shorthand for everything he’s feeling and he knows it but he can’t bring himself to use it still.)

So he searches for a way to verbally express how he feels and just continues to show her through the touch of his hand against hers, through lingering hugs and kisses that are too few in number when she is torn away from him at Canary Wharf.

And when he finds a way to talk to her one final time, it’s salt in the wound that he can’t touch her. He can’t lean into her hand when she reaches for his cheek. He can’t take her hand and ground himself with her presence and he can’t wrap her in a hug or press his lips to hers. All the ways he’s used to express just how much he loves her have been stripped from him, the final injustice of this whole disaster.

The words are all he has left now and he’s going to say them. He’s going to say them, especially when Rose has been the brave one, like always, and said them first. 

He wants to say them but they stick in his throat for just a second too long as his brain continues to rebel against their inadequacy and he loses his last chance.

He wants to finish that sentence, wants to wipe the tears from her face and wrap her in a hug so tight that no words are necessary, wants to reassure her, wants to make sure she knows.

Oh he wants –

anonymous asked:

Speaking of Rhys sending dirty thoughts to Feyre...*coughs* I had this scene in my head that he does this while at dinner and Fey is eating with Tamlin and Lucien...He suddenly sends a very raunchy image and Fey starts to squirm and tries not to moan...Tamlin and Lucien are like, are you ok Fey, you look rather flushed? XD

Haha OMG, that’s actually exactly how what I’m writing has started out!  Great minds think alike!  And since I’m loving all these messages today, here’s the opening snippet!  ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡° )


I can almost feel his grin as he nudges against our bond, through the crack I’ve left open for only him in my mental barrier.  We may be across Prythian from one another, but the comfort of that dark caress closes the distance.  But sometimes he makes it so frustrating.

I may very well be a prick, Feyre darling, but I’m your prick.  His voice drifts in, soft and sensual, making it hard concentrate at the table - which isn’t the best thing to do while Tamlin and Lucien discuss the Spring Court if I’m supposed to be my mate’s spy.

I need to listen, my mental voice is a barely there huff, not fully committed to him stopping.  

“Feyre?”  My brows shot up and my gaze drifted back over to Tamlin.  “Are you not feeling well?  You’ve barely touched your meal.”

You miss me.  Not a question, he knew I did.

Shut up, Rhys.