silent gesture

still breathing

A lil 4x03 bellarke speculation fic for your enjoyment

Bellamy can’t stand to watch Clarke cry.

Under other circumstances, he would consider himself strong. He threw away his chance at a normal life the moment he held baby Octavia in his arms, he’s gone to the ends of the Earth and back for her and the other delinquents time and time again. He’s watched loved ones die over and over and still pushed on—

But he can’t stand to watch Clarke cry.

As she sits in front of him, sobbing, he can’t help but to reach out to her, just a hand on her shoulder, a silent comfort, a gesture of solidarity. He lets it rest there for a second, giving her a light squeeze, and he’s about to pull away when she rests her hand over his, anchoring him.

Then she turns her head, resting her cheek over the hand that has a death grip on his. He can feel the wetness of her cheeks, and he is so, so weak.

Bellamy kneels in front of her, sliding the hand on her shoulder up her neck to delicately cup her jaw, his thumb swiping away a stray tear.

“Clarke,” he says, voice low. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

Another tear slips down her cheek, and he gently wipes it away. He brings his other hand to rest above her knee, thumb tracing patterns back and forth over the fabric there.

She reaches out and grips his shoulders, still catching her breath from crying, and its natural, the way his hand travels from her knee to rest on her hip, his thumb continuing the comforting circles over her hipbone.

Having her this close—it’s terrifyingly intimate. It’s more intimate than anything they’ve done before, but somehow, it still feels right. His heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest, but he’s breathing easier than he has in months.

He shivers when her hands on his shoulders snake around his neck, fingers curling into the ends of his hair. With a sigh, her head falls forward, forehead resting lightly on his, noses barely brushing.

They stay like that for a moment, just breathing the same air, and he can feel Clarke start to relax before him. It would be so easy, he thinks, to close the gap between them—only a few inches—and just kiss her.

He wants to map her body with his lips. He could make her pain go away, even for just a few minutes—he could make her feel good, if that’s what she wanted.

It startles him, when the thought crosses his mind, that it’s not what he wants.

Of course, he’d do anything he could to take her pain away.

But he wants more than that.

He knows, that as much as he’d like to kiss her at this moment, the timing is wrong. The way things are right now, with both of their still healing hearts, the ticking time bomb that is a nuclear apocalypse hanging over their heads—he could never have more.

It’s why he’s so caught off guard when Clarke closes the distance between them and presses her lips to his.

At first, she’s tentative, her kiss gentle and unsure. She presses another slow kiss to his cheek, his temple, his forehead, and then she seals her lips over his once more.

He’s ready this time, and against his better judgement, he kisses her back.

The second kiss is more demanding. She swipes her tongue across the seam of his lips, demanding entrance, and he gives it to her. She groans into his mouth, and that’s when he knows he’s fucked.

The hand resting on her hip slips under her shirt, smoothing over the soft skin of her stomach and sliding up her spine. His other hand curls around her neck, tangles in her hair, holding her as close as he possibly can.

One of her hands remains anchored in his hair while the other fists into the collar of his t-shirt.

Her mouth moves desperately against his, and she presses against him, silently pleading for more.

He lets his hand roam from her spine back to her stomach, and when he traces his fingers over the skin beneath the underwire of her bra, he feels her whole body shudder.

It takes all his willpower to wrench himself away from her mouth. He tries catch his breath, to get himself under control, to tell her that they can’t, but Clarke takes the opportunity he’s presented her and attaches her lips to his neck, trailing hot, wet kisses across his jaw and collarbone.

“Clarke,” he tries, but it comes out more like a sigh when he feels the light scrape of her teeth against his skin.

She finds his lips again, but he feels wetness on her cheeks. He pulls away.

“Clarke,” he says, more firm this time, and she hastily tries to wipe the tears from her face.

She brings her forehead back to his and grips his biceps. “Bellamy, please.”

He rubs his hands up and down her arms. “We can’t, Clarke. Not like this.” She looks at him then, her bright blue eyes boring into his. “Not when we only have months to live.”

He’s afraid, after he’s said it, that Clarke wouldn’t even want this if they weren’t about to die.

“What if we did?” she asks, and her voice is strong, sure. “What if we did have time?”

He searches her eyes for any evidence of hesitation or uncertainty, but he finds none. Instead, her eyes are clear.

It takes him a long time to find the words. “If you still want this after we both survive the end of the world,” he starts, and even he is surprised at the confidence in his words, “then I’ll be here.”

It feels like a promise, somehow, and she squeezes his arm to tell him that she feels it, too.

She looks at him then, eyes a little watery but otherwise composed. “You still have hope?” she asks.

He almost wants to laugh. The only reason he’s had hope since he landed on this radioactive wasteland of a planet is sitting right in front of him.

“Are we still breathing?”

Someone sent me this prompt as an ask but unfortunately I can’t find it anymore, but here’s the fic anyways!

“Jughead and Betty finally talk about the kiss”


An eerie silence seemed to settle on the town as Betty and Jughead walked home, side by side, not saying anything. After telling the sheriff about finding Jason’s car, neither of them had any desire to stick around and watch the variety show. Seeing Polly being dragged away from her family had been hard for both of them, but Betty was having a particularly tough time. Jughead reached for her hand, a silent gesture of empathy.

They walked like this for a while. Jughead used this time to formulate exactly what he was going to say to Betty. About the kiss. To be honest, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d been distracted all day: at Jason’s car, the variety show, but he was focused now.

He watched Betty as they walked together. Her brow was furrowed, clearly deep in thought. Her normally clear green eyes looked stormy, and tired. The perfect swoop of her nose is dotted with tiny freckles, that stop just above her lips. Her lips. Above all, he couldn’t get his mind off her lips. They were velvety and sweet, and she tasted like cherries. Jughead’s heart started racing as he tried to gather the courage to say something.

Barely audible, Jughead cleared his throat, “Bets I- I’m really sorry about today. I know it was hard to see Polly being taken away from you again. I wanted to comfort you, and I just need to know that I didn’t royally fuck things up.”

Betty smiled at her shoes, and kicked at a pebble in her path.

“Juggie….” she sighed, “you’re everything to me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t pulled a Romeo and came to see me.” quieter Betty added, “Something bad.”

Jughead blushed, “Betty, you know I’d do anything for you. I’m glad I could help. But ahh-ummm I wasn’t really talking about climbing up to your room.”

Betty laughed this time. She knew what Jughead was talking about. Her heart fluttered and broke at how insecure he was. She decided to cut to the chase. She dropped Jughead’s hand and clasped her hands around his neck. Toying with the frayed edge of his beanie, she sucked in a deep breath, and finally said what she’s been thinking for months.

“It was perfect, Jughead. You’re perfect. I’m sorry I spent all summer chasing after someone who didn’t appreciate me. You’re the one I want, and I know that now. I was so busy sorting out my problems by myself that I didn’t realize that I needed help. And you help me Juggie, you always have and you always will.”

Jughead allowed himself to breathe fully for this first time since this afternoon.

Betty and Jughead looked at each other, studied each other. They were a perfect match. A perfect set of contrasting elements. Betty’s sweet, sympathetic nature offset Jughead’s brooding one, in ways that made his heart feel full. Full of love, and light, and bliss. He felt complete. And for the first time in his life, Jughead felt certain about what his future would hold.

Burr Knows ASL

As a kid, Aaron Burr had a friend who was deaf so he learned ASL (American Sign Languge) to communicate with him. People wonder why he doesn’t lose his temper or express his feelings because he’ll secretly do it in sign language. During cabinet meetings, he’ll silently be making tiny gestures to communicate his own feelings on the topic but vocally remain neutral. After he shoots Alexander, he refuses to talk and only uses ASL for the rest of his life.

So I was scrolling through the kara danvers tag when I saw a post by @anaveragegirl15 but I guess I’m blocked cause I wasn’t able to reblog. The post had this photo with the caption “ Cafuné-running your fingers through your lover’s hair” and I just… I’m guessing they’re not a Portuguese speaker, because if they were I’m pretty sure you’d know this word is much more than just “running your fingers through a loved one’s hair” which tbh I don’t even think he’s doing here. Cafuné is an act of love and affection, it’s it’s an intimate and silent gesture, it’s that calm warm moment of running your fingers through a person you love’s hair, be that a family member, a close friend, or a partner. It’s used mainly in the context, at least where I come from, of a mother soothing her child to sleep. It’s not just some dude having his hand in a girl’s hair when he’s trying to get his dick in something with a pulse. If you’d like a link to the actual dictionary defintion, just hmu fam.

  • imagine when jeremy and jean have a fight, they ignore each other instead of lashing out.
  • so one time they had this really huge fight before they sleep, and jer and jean sleeps back to back instead of cuddling (i would like to think they share the same bed even if they fight, so fight me on this!!!!)
  • but then jeremy being jeremy, can’t stand tensions and anger. so he turns around to face jean’s back, and he sees jean’s shoulders shaking silently. 
  • so jeremy gently reaches out to jean, and places a hand on his shoulder as a silent gesture.
  • jean stiffens at first, then realizes its jeremy, so he relaxes against jeremy’s touch, never mind that they had a huge fight.
  • so jeremy gently coaxes jean to turn around with his hands, and jean lets him be pulled. 
  • its dark in their room, but jeremy reaches up to jean’s face to wipe away the tears that he knows are there, and jean just lets him be. 
  • when jer doesn’t move his hand away, jean just lets jer cradle his face. 
  • and Jeremy Knox is so In Love with his french bean, he leans up and kisses jean softly.
  • jeremy can feel jean’s shaky breaths when they break away, and he’s sorry that it’s his fault they fought this time round. he didn’t mean to say things that would have brought back bad memories. 
  • jeremy presses a kiss to jean’s forehead as a silent apology, and jean releases a shuddering breath as he wraps his arms around jeremy.
  • maybe they’ll speak about their fight in the morning. but for now, jean is content with being okay with jeremy again. 
final introductions

Cornered while born to be
A cognitive nuisance
That supposedly agitates
The calm of the crowd
From silent gestures
That feel so loud
As inherited discomfort
Is brought out in the open.

Wounds that wind up assuming
Torture constructed agony
Yelling disjointed melodies
As revelatory agencies
Sad mix of secrets with lies
Into cocktail concoctions
Finely transforming weakness
Via strength in the form
Of formal introductions.


Sasuke brought his head back, catching sight of his wife as her paced steps fell into place bedside him, her words causing a flicking smile to form. She managed to bring the sensation of warmth and comfort with such trivial measures of acknowledgement.

He extended his hand, her fingers wrapping around his in a silent gesture of shared affection. He used to know so little of happiness, but she carried it within herself, a spark of love he could feel entangling him by a simple act of a meeting glance.


ღ  - some more yeri cause i’ve been down in the dumps for a while now

ღ  - listening to this playlist

  - sorry if this doesn’t make sense, just a bit of my comfort writing

Yerim was always understanding, one of the many things i appreciated about her. Words wouldn’t have to be exchanged those days when our hands laid clasped on my bedroom floor, the only sounds coming from a consoling playlist on my phone. 

She would understand that on those days all I wanted was quiet and tranquility, almost impossible to find in our day to day constantly hustling world. To push an invisible pause button so I could think for a moment on what I really wanted for my future and contemplate if what I’m doing makes me happy.

Yerim would give me a petite, tight-lipped smile, her grip tightening ever so slightly. Her silent gestures conveying into messages of such comfort and a sense of home I would almost feel guilty at making her stay here with me in such a confused and exposed position, leaning on her like she was my rock.

But all it would take is a nudge to my shoulder, a kiss placed on bruised knuckles for us to remember that even though we’re unsure of the future and venturing into the unknown, we can figure this out at our leisure together.

just reading the life of alexander before bed as you do and 

Upon which, as they were leading him away as wholly useless and untractable, Alexander, who stood by, said, “What an excellent horse do they lose for want of address and boldness to manage him!” Philip at first took no notice of what he said; but when he heard him repeat the same thing several times, and saw he was much vexed to see the horse sent away,

alexander: that’s a real nice horse isn’t it hephaistion [examines nails] guess none of these losers can handle him [flicks imaginary lint off tunic] what a shame

philip: [pretends to be super interested in flight of passing birds]

alexander: i SAID, that’s a REAL NICE HORSE [hephaistion is staring unblinkingly at philip while nodding emphatically] what a SHAME none of these LOSERS can HANDLE HIM, DAD [hephaistion: that’s a real shame alexander]

philip:  [silent eyeroll, j/o gesture directed to nearby cavalrymen. they all laugh, alexander doesn’t notice]

alexander: i SAID, that’s a  R E A L   N I C E  H O R S E -

philip: jesus christ

Logan Aesthetics
  • Logan: a fresh cigar clamped hard between teeth, worn leather jackets, bruised ribs, bloody mouth, staring someone down intensely, lips curling into a snarl, the vibration of a low growl, silent gestures of kindness, carrying someone with ease
  • Laura: the feeling of a building scream, holding your dad's hand and feeling the callouses, being kissed on the forehead, falling asleep in the car and being carried to bed, leaping into things headfirst, fierce familial love, bloody knuckles
  • Charles: the wisdom of years, the silences between father and son, the smile on your grandchild's face, the feeling when things are slipping away, the grief and pride when your child has to carry you, the fuzz of forgetting, gentle exasperation, being tucked in with blankets, the warmth of a rare smile
Trying to Court [Dragonformers! Cons X Dragonformer! Reader] [Requested]

Megatron: He would try to impress you in any way he possibly could. Giving you shiny gems and finding the biggest meal to give you. To other dragons who came near, he would fight them all besides his clan since they knew not to get to close to their leaders mate.

Soundwave: Most of the time he would do sweet silent gestures, such as helping you clean your scales/feathers or shower you with affection. At times, Soundwave would follow you like a lost puppy till you snapped at him or duty calls. Every now and then, you would find small gifts in your den and it was easy to tell they were from Soundwave.

Starscream: He would show you off to everyone and keep you by his side at all time, if he could, sometimes he would be a sap and give you flowers or something in sweet gestures. You would have to deal with his complaining about the other dragons though.

How Would Seventeen React If Their Girlfriend Held Their Hand When They Crossed The Road

S.coups & Hoshi: He’d be one to joke about how you held his hand just to cross them road. But he’d think that it’s really cute and wouldn’t let go of your hand afterwards.

DK & Mingyu: He would love that you held his hand and he’d think that it’s cute too. He’d even swing your arm back and forth with your fingers interlocked.

Jeonghan, Dino & Joshua: He’d think that it’s really cute that you held his hand to cross the street, smiling at you when he sees you do it.

Wonwoo, Woozi & Vernon:He would get all blushy and silent at the small gesture. But would still hold your hand, smiling to himself the whole time.

The8, Seungkwan & Jun:He’d get a little flustered at the fact that you did this, though it was just to cross the street. He’d probably even question why you held his hand to cross the street too.

  • Fantastic Beasts screenplay: Graves holds a finger to his lips, signaling for Tina to be silent. The gesture is PATRONIZING, but authoritative. Tina looks kowtowed—she obeys, stepping back into the shadows.
  • Rogue One novel: "The shield is up," the man in white snarled. He was burying his fear, his fear of her, beneath PATRONIZING disdain and venom. "Your signal will never reach the rebel base."

@ameasureofpower and continued from here


The older man tilts his head a degree. The silent, humble gesture was most likely all the famous Mr. Wake was to receive from the severe looking government official in ways of an apology. “I have not, but I have overheard enthusiasm for your work in the coffee shops I frequent. Your subject matter - crime, I believe? - may not be beautiful, but your style is praiseworthy.”

“Do you take inspiration off of world events or do your tales spin from something else?”

Something of an exaggerated frown crept across his lips at that, head inclining briefly to one side. Fair enough, the gesture said. He could certainly see the beauty in other people’s work, but he supposed it was always harder to find it in your own.

He’d put his usual self-deprecation aside, and take the compliment. Even if the man was simply speaking from second-hand experience.

“Alex Casey was just one of those ideas that pop into your head from out of nowhere, and then won’t leave you alone until you write it down– true to form, for Casey. But I had the opportunity to speak with a detective from New York for a little research, and just between you and me, the guy might’ve helped to shape the character just a little.”

nohrianprince-deactivated201603  asked:

Leon glances up from studying his tome to find Takumi standing over him. The Hoshidan prince asks if he can sit down, and the Nohrian prince silently gestures to him that he may. Leon sets his tome aside, turning to face Takumi. "You look happy, did you find some new amusement?" "You could say that..." Takumi grins devilishly. "What is it then?" Leon asks, finding himself suddenly disturbed by Takumi's barely contained glee. Takumi leans in, slowly whispering into Leon's ear. "I found your blog"

I can’t imagine Leon’s reaction but I have a feeling he’s realizing he’s into Takumi especially that everything Takumi does seems to have some weirdly seducing undertone. Either this is some weird game of chase thing or Takumi simply finds pleasure in BEING AN ASS

An Important Mission

Summary: For the first time since starting their family, Hinata leaves Konoha on a long-term mission, leaving Naruto to look after the kids. Naruhina.

Word count: 2,200-ish.


“Make sure you wake Boruto up at seven to get ready for the Academy, otherwise he just sleeps in. Shino-kun’s been saying that lately he hasn’t been coming to class on time. There’s some leftovers in the fridge that should last until I’m back, so please don’t just eat ramen every night. Remind Boruto and Himawari to practice their Juuken every day as well, and take the-.”

“Hinata,” Naruto said, grasping his wife gently by the shoulders with a chuckle. Hinata fell silent at the gesture, blinking up at him in surprise. Even in the all the time he’d known her and with how much she had grown, it still struck Naruto as amusing to see her speak so freely and with such confidence.

It was in her nature, he supposed. She’d always been nurturing and caring, so attentive to the needs of others. Willing even to lay down her own life for those she loved; much like his own parents before him. It really shouldn’t have surprised him that she would slip into the role of mother so seamlessly.

“Don’t worry about us ‘ttebayo. We’ll be fine.” Naruto said, kissing her softly. His hand cupped her face caressing her cheek, as his gaze held hers earnestly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

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