Peter Capaldi being an absolute cinnamon roll and thanking each individual person involved with his happy birthday video! (x)
Thank you to everybody in the world who was kind enough to think about me and send me best wishes on my birthday! Unfortunately, I can’t get around everybody, and say thank you personally because otherwise there’d be no time left to make Doctor Who, which is what we’re in the middle of doing at the moment. But in the meantime…
is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short
Anonymous looked up at the sky, not trusting the colour smeared upon the horizon. Horizons could be misleading, they knew. Horizons could convince you it was still daylight, even when the whole of the sky arced above you in a sprawl of midnight. Looking forward was not always enough. Sometimes, you had to look up.
Directly above Anonymous, the moon cut its teeth into the clouds, drawing blood and bruising the darkness with its waxen light, waning at the edges. It was time.
They did not have long. The witch had told them, as she reluctantly handed them the bag of herbs, that the spell would only be useful for the minute or so that the moon was at its highest. The minute was upon them.
Fifty five seconds left.
Cursing themself for having lost track of time, Anonymous reached into their trouser pocket and pulled out the little drawstring bag. With hands shaking in anticipation, they emptied the contents into the small well they’d dug into the earth all those hours ago, and covered it back over with dirt. Fingers crossed behind their back, they stepped away and waited.
It did not happen immediately. Magic takes time, the witch had said. Magic does not come to you when you ask for it; it comes to you when it’s good and ready. You can cast all the spells you like, scatter all the herbs and make all the offerings, but magic cannot be summoned - only tempted.
The seconds ticked by, and Anonymous waited.
This had been a long time coming, they reflected. They had waited too long for the taste of power on their lips. They had been too long distant from how it felt to be in control. They had learnt too early their place in the world, and they had too soon come to rue it. The chasm between want and have had grown inexorably bigger since the day they were born, and now they were here.
The mound of earth did not move. Anonymous thought about the time they had first felt insignificant - the first time they had realised that they stood small in the face of all things - and counted the seconds.
With ten seconds left before the spell died, the magic came.
Magic has no face, has no body. It takes no form and it holds no weight. The witch had told Anonymous this herself. Magic simply is; it is because no other word will do, but it is not. It cannot be, and has never been, and yet it is.
When Anonymous thought about it, it was all rather complicated.
Best, then, not to think at all. Best to give voice to thought and make it speech.
Anonymous cleared their throat and began.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here - ”
I was not summoned.
They flushed, the soundless sound surprising them even though they had been expecting it. Do not fear the voiceless voice, the witch had warned. It speaks, and is silent. The words are only half your own.
Breathing slowly, they tried again.
“No, of course not. Sorry. I’m not - I haven’t used magic before.”
And you still have not. I am not here to be used. Say what you would have, and I will do the same. This is not a service. This is a trade.
“Right. Yes. Sorry.” They inhaled, exhaled. This was the only chance they would have to resolve the conflict that had been the shape of all their life. This was the resolution of aporia; of feeling as though they deserved everything, yet having nothing. Of knowing that they should be free, but being everywhere in chains. Of wanting, and of not having. “I want to feel powerful.”
In what sense? Power is not all-encompassing. The queen ant is powerful to the workers, but weak to the heel of the boot. What power would you hold? Do you seek to command nations, or to master the arts, or to take another as your own?
Anonymous considered how best to formulate their response before replying. Precision was key here. The witch had made it clear that magic would grant you what you asked, whether or not it was exactly what you wanted.
“I’m tired of being silent,” they said eventually. “I’m tired of being unable to say whatever I want. I’m sick to the teeth of thinking all these thoughts - great thoughts, too; thoughts that could topple cities and part seas - and being forced to keep them to myself, all because other people think that their own feelings are more important. Well, what of my feelings? What of feeling inadequate? What of the weight of being told to keep silent? Do they know what that does to a person?”
As they spoke, they could feel their heartbeat rise, pumping and roaring in their ears, in their veins. “Sorry,” they added. “I’m getting carried away. But to answer your question - I want to have the power to speak my mind.”
In all things?
They contemplated it. “Yes. In all things.”
The silence was real for a few moments before it became illusion.
I can help you.
“And will you?”
Yes. It will require exchange, however.
At these words, Anonymous could hardly contain their excitement. “Anything. I’ll give you anything.” They took their purse out from their other pocket, and held it out towards the mound. “I have money. I have a house, too, but that’s back in town. You mightn’t like it there. My neighbours - ”
I would have your face.
Anonymous faltered. “My what?”
Your face. That is my offer. I will give you unlimited and unprecedented power to speak your mind. All thoughts you have will be given voice, and you will never again be forced to turn away from speaking aloud what you have always been taught to keep silent. In return for this extraordinary power, I would take from you your face, and in so doing I would give myself form and body. You would never again be silent; I would never again be invisible.
“But wouldn’t I suffer without a face? How would anyone know that it was me who was speaking?” Anonymous asked, wringing their hands around their purse.
I have named my payment. Now I would name my price. The price of this power is thus: the knowledge that all thoughts you give voice to will be dampened by your lack of face. That everything you ever say to another will be tempered by your lack of identity. That no-one will again know whose thoughts you speak; only that you do speak, and in all things.
There was nothing for it. They would have to decline. They could not accept these terms. What power came at such a price, after all? What king had ever ruled his country with no name or face? What lover had ever made another theirs with no identity?
All the times they had been asked to hold their tongue; all the times they had been scolded for speaking their mind; all the times they had uttered the wrong words at the wrong time and had suffered for it: all this had been for nothing.
Although, Anonymous admitted to themself, the thought did appeal on one front, and one front alone. It was undeniable that a certain freedom was gained by completely giving up one’s identity. After all, who could be held accountable for a deed when the deed was done by one with neither name nor face? Who would they scold when the words that were given were not the words that were wanted? Who would suffer when the things said were not things that people wanted to hear?
Only those who heard them, of course, and not the one who spoke them.
And immediately, ashamedly, wonderfully, the decision was already made, had perhaps been made years ago.
“It’s a deal.”
You agree to the payment and price?
“I do. Take my face, and give me the power I seek.”
The deal is struck.
And then the moon, which had begun to falter at its peak, was suddenly once more at its highest. The minutes had been returned.
Hand trembling, Anonymous reached up to touch their face, only to find that, of course, there was no face. Where their image had been - the folds of their mouth, the curve of their nose - was now smooth and featureless. There was nothing there at all.
“Are you happy?” came a voice from behind them.
Anonymous whirled around, and came face to face with their own face, worn by another. “Who are you?” they asked, and a thrill chased up their spine at the realisation that there was no fear behind these words at all. Their voice did not falter. The question was biting, crystalline.
“I am Magic,” replied the impostor, “given form by our deal. Is it to your satisfaction?” It cocked its head inquisitively, Anonymous’ old eyes seeking validation in their new setting, and Anonymous felt powerful. They were looking at their old self - their weaker, voiceless self - and they were free.
Anonymous drew a deep breath in before responding. “is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you?” they asked.
Magic blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“yano,” continued Anonymous, “cuz u short.”
“Why are you saying that?” asked Magic, eyes darting left to right in placid uncertainty. “I don’t understand. I gave you what you wanted. You could say anything you wanted, and no-one would ever hold you accountable. You could take a lover with intricately crafted sonnets, bend ears with your scintillating rhetoric, and yet you choose - ”
“is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short,” interjected Anonymous, feeling giddy and drunk with power.
Magic blinked again. “You have the choice of a thousand languages, billions of words - ”
“is having a ginormous fat peen - ”
“Sometimes,” Magic interrupted, “silence is the more powerful weapon after all. I could undo what I have done, but I think it best not to bother. Some people will never learn. I wish you luck with all things, and may you one day find your power useful, for it will not aid you in the pursuit you have chosen.”
With that, Magic was gone, and Anonymous’ face was lost to them forever. Now alone, Anonymous looked gleefully at the small mound of earth that had been their salvation. They thought of all the things they would say tomorrow, and they smiled.
At least, they would have smiled, had they been able.
Far away, Magic rolled its new eyes, and decided to write a sonnet.
Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot… But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I’ve witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I’ve seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them… but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it… ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love… And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man… A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.
Summary: After moving a lot, you found yourself in a small town in the middle of Europe ready for a new start. You see yourself falling in love for the city and developing a crush for the cute stranger that you never had the courage to talk to until you’re forced to. (Modern Au)
Pairing: Steve x Reader
Warnings: Fluffy like so much fluffy. And Steve with a beard because that should be a warning.
Thanks to @drinkfantasy , to beta this for me you rock.
Credits to the gifs owners
You have a routine, every day you wake at 5:50 a.m. and stays 10 minutes in bed just enjoying the warmth and the comfort of your sheets. Then you drink a hot cup of coffee or tea looking outside your window, you love to see the people passing by and how the city comes to life with the morning.
But by far your favorite part of your morning lately has been the time you spend walking with your dog. You look at the small puppy in the end of your bed “Come here, babe.” You say tapping the bed, she was so adorable and so small. You were so glad that your mom gave you a puppy as congratulations for living alone gift “Do you want to go for a walk, Blueberry?”
The dog barks making you get off of bed “Come on, girl let’s find your leash.” You change your pajamas into a pair of black leggings and a pink sweater and your favorite sneakers. Even though is summer the morning is cold, you put the leash on your dog going outside.
Hunk and Lance knew each other before the Garrison and have been bffs since childhood
Hunk and Lance didn’t meet in the same preschool nor did they ever go to the same school (until the garrison) but met each other in a nearby playground where they continued to meet up for the next 8-11 years of their life, they usually let off steam about the shit that goes down in their schools.
“Like, if you’re going to steal something from the mall -” “Don’t wear your uniform?” “EXACTLY. God, that guy was so stupid.” “Agreed.”
“Then… then he KICKED the guy’s nose!!! He was bleeding, Lance! He needed to be taken to the hospital!!” “Oh my God, and then what?” “A girl was crying the whole entire time and -” the stories they share go on and on.
Lance’s mom and Hunk’s mom are interested in the same things so their sons r bffs and so r they and their moms drag them off sometimes to do grocery shopping but Hunk and Lance are aways ‘can’t we just stay at hoooommmmeeee?’ ‘no you’re going to help me and hunk’s mom buy groceries for our party’ ‘what party????’ ‘a joint family party!!!!’ ‘??????? !!!! A JOINT FAMILY PARTY ????’
Hunk’s family and Lance’s family are really close buds now
It’s almost surreal how much the two families are alike to interests???
Hunk and Lance meet up after graduating middle school and decide to finally enrol in the same school. Both of them couldn’t have been anymore excited and happy.
Hunk is Lance’s only tether to Earth because Hunk is childhood and playground days, fighting off bullies and staying up at night under covers and pillow forts, charting stars while laying on muddy grass after rain, stealing cookies when their mothers aren’t looking, and making stupid jokes together as the sun went down – all of their world, quiet and soft and sound.
Lance loves Hunk and Hunk loves Lance. They’re best friends, because water breathes life on Earth and what is water without it’s Earth?
Take One: Scene One [College Au! Taking an editing course with Christian]
As class came to an end your professor handed back your peer reviewed midterms. You honestly always thought peer reviewed was a fancy way of saying Your professor was too lazy to actually grade it themselves, but there were no complaints on your end. There was no way a classmate would fail you, they probably had the same anxiety.
Everyone was always lenient at peer reviews. Right?
“Alright Kids, remember to go over the discussion board, read the next chapter and start drafting ideas for the final” Professor Seo leaned on her desk, taking off her glasses. “Any questions?”
“Yeah, can I do a makeup midterm?” One of the kids in the back piped up.
She chuckled. “No make ups, but if anyone enters the film festival, that presentation will be used to replace their lowest grade, including a midterm. Next question?”
“Professor Seo, what is this?” you gasped turning over your paper.
first day at a new job and oh fuck my boss is the person I drunkenly hooked up with last weekend/night
The pounding headache that currently plagued you was going to be a serious problem. You took medicine to try and ease it but it hadn’t kicked in just yet.
Your best friends Pietro and Natasha took you out for drinks the night before to celebrate you landing your dream job. One drink turned into four and the night got hazy after that. You knew that it wasn’t the smartest thing to go out the night before you were to start a new job, but you were in a good mood and wanted to.
A BTS reaction to you moaning their name in their sleep, even though you're only friends?
Sucker for this shit
You usually lounged around with your head using Jin’s knee as a pillow and more times than not you’d fall asleep while watching what ever movie the two of you had chosen. Hearing you say his name at first so airy didnt phase him, it was when he asked you what you wanted and you didnt respond did he realize you were sleeping. He wouldn’t believe that you were saying his name in your sleep but when you said it again he’d smile and move his hand to stroke you hair, butterflies erupting in his stomach. When you’d wake up it would be the first thing out of his mouth as he asked you what you were dreaming about. When you wouldn’t tell him he’d start mimicking you causing you to laugh and smack his chest.
You were always in the studio with Yoongi and he loved having you there. You had a way with words he could only dream of. It was another late night and he didnt mind that you had fallen asleep on the couch behind him until he started hearing his name. He turned to see you shift in your sleep. This made him smile. Being cooped up with you while writing both of your feelings down to paper created a bond between you two. He’d leave his desk and kneel in front of you and when you moaned his name again he’d stroke you cheek to wake you up. When you did he’d smile at you and take your hand to sit you up. You would flush and follow himself back to the desk. “You know while you were sleeping you gave me an idea. lets add you saying my name here.” He’d say with a playful wink as you realized what you had done.
When you asked Namjoon to stop by to bring you soup while you were sick he thought he’d be walking into your apartment to see you red nosed and sleepy eyed, but when he opened the door to see you curled up in a blanket he smile and took it upon himself to empty the soup into a bowl and bring it to you. He sat down next to you and was about to place a hand on your shoulder to wake you up, but his name was already leaving your lips. He smiled and looked down, waiting to hear if you said it again, but when you didnt he finished placing his hand on your shoulder to wake you up. When he did this he laughed at how fast you shot up. He’d smile at you and hand you the soup, waving off your thanks. “You know I’ve been thinking. When you’re feeling better id like to take you on a date.”
He wouldnt be able to hide his smile as he heard his name leaving your lips as the two of you sat there, your tired head resting on his shoulder. Though friends, the two of you usually propped yourself upon each other when tired, it was just something you’ve both grown used to. But by growing used to it, you were both opening yourself to the chance of having more than feelings for one another, too scared to break up your friendship. Hoseok would move you hair across your face making a mental note for the next time he was sleeping across you do to the same, in gentle hope it would spark something between the two of you.
He’d sit there smiling and playing with your hair as your head rested across his lap. He’d let you finished sleeping, trying his hardest to keep his attention still on the movie but all he would be able to think about is the gentle sound of your voice calling his name. When you woke up he’d ask you about it and when you blushed he’d take no second longer to take your cheek and place a sweet kiss upon your lips.
The moment you said it you would have been woken up by him with a large smile on his face. He’d be hovering over you, still laughing while asking playfully if you were dreaming about him. Not knowing what he’d meant he’d scoff when you asked him to elaborate and he’d sit back now facing the tv once again. “You know, if you like me, you should just say something instead of whispering my name in your sleep.”
He would be shocked, confused, and flattered when he heard his name. He wouldn’t bother you to ask about it, but he definitely would hold a smug smile when ever he saw you the days to follow. Eventually you would force him to tell you what he was so smug about and when he did you should blush and bite your lip, knowing exactly what he was talking about. He’d give you a comforting hug before kissing your redden cheek gently and moving back to continue what ever it was he was doing before.
Kitty, @gouguruheddo and I figured you deserved as many vamps as you could handle :) Thank you, a hundred times over, for being such a sweetheart. You’re always so wonderful to chat with. Keep being amazing, babe <3 We’ll come kidnap you someday.
[Are you seeing this gorgeous art?? I’m dying.]
[~4.3k Victorian Era Vampire AU, NSFW, angst mixed with gentle loving, as the Eruri’s should be, some blood and injury]
**Arthur Randall is from Kuroshitsuji, shoutout to that AU I crave, and Auguste Dupin was Edgar Allen Poe’s Sherlock before Sherlock. Poor Nile.
you babe! And thanks for requesting!!
love your writing, my request is Leo X reader 2016, the reader is daughter of
shedder , she decides to tell Leo or he finds out. (your choice) she ends up
quitting , the ending be cute and sweet” @afanficprincess15
I don’t own TMNT, and you belong to you <3
You’d gotten a text in the middle of the
night from Leo, saying he wants to see you, now. Groaning, you ignore the text
and put your phone face down. He knew she was asleep, why text now.
You were about to fall back to sleep
when your phone buzzed again, and again, and again. Picking up your phone, you
didn’t even read the messages and just put your phone on silent.
Leo could wait. At least that’s what you
Leo managed to sneak into your apartment,
and wake you up himself. He’d been watching you through your bedroom window
(you forgot to close the curtains again) and he was very annoyed that you just
ignored him like that.
“[Y/N]…[Y/N] wake the fuck up!” he
pulled the blankets off of you, throwing them to the other side of the room.
“Fuck off, Raph.” You grumbled, covering
your head with one of your abundance of pillows you kept on your bed (for times
“It’s not Raph. It’s your boyfriend.” He
hissed, flipping you over and narrowing his eyes at you, as the pillow flopped
to the side.
“What the fuck, Leonardo?” you only ever
used his full name when you were really pissed, and he knew this, and usually
“I could say the same to you, [Y/N], if
that’s even your real name.” Struggling against his iron grip, you glared back.
“What’re you talking about, Leo?”
“Why the fuck did you not tell me you’re
related to Shredder, you’re his
“Oh, you know about that?” you grinned
sheepishly. You were going to tell him, you were, it was just never the right
“Yeah, I know about that…” he paused,
swallowing back tears as he stared into your eyes, “you’re using me aren’t
“What? Leo no-”
“You’re using me to find out my
weaknesses! You’re just finding out information for that oversized paper
shredder-” At this point he’d let go of you, and was pacing around your
bedroom, knocking things over.
“Leo!” you yelled, making him stop and
cross his arms, “I am not my father, nor am I ‘using’ you to get information or
whatever!” you thought you were tearing up, but by the time you were finished
yelling, your eyes were like streams down your cheeks, hitting your
“How do I know though?” he yelled at
you, tears falling down his own face before he fell to his knees. In a weak
voice, he whispered, “I just don’t want to lose you…” Sobbing in his hands, you
knelt down in front of him and wrapped your arms around him. You understood why
he was concerned and angry, you would be too if your family was potentially at
risk. The only thing you didn’t agree with was the ruining of your sleep.
After he’d calmed down, you treated him to
ice cream on your couch, your legs hung over his thighs.
“How did you even found out?” he looked
up, a spoon in his mouth and ice cream on the corner of his mouth. Giggling,
you swiped your finger across it, licking the ice cream off.
“Uhh…” you rubbed the back of his neck,
a hangdog expression on his face. “Me and Donnie… did a slight back up check on
you?” your smile dropped and your expression turned into a ‘really?’ one; your
spoon next to your mouth.
“So you stalked me?”
“I would call it an accidental, yet
informative deep web search.”
You would never wish anything bad upon another person- never. Did it cross your mind right now? Maybe once, just in this situation. Said situation being you tied up, sitting in the corner of an all too cold - in your opinion - living room.
Why me? was the only thing on your mind, eyes flickering around to watch the face of the unknown men. You couldn’t help but feel weak, seeing as they weren’t all that big, and yet over-powered you so easily; then it clicked, and you let out a low fxxk.
Tears began to form in your eyes, head tipping back against the wall; you finally knew what this was, but you couldn’t help but still wonder why it was you. What could they honestly want with your mate? You weren’t one of them, and Jeno didn’t talk to enough people to have his own enemies.
The room seemed oddly calm, beyond your inner panic attack, but on the other side of town, it wasn’t the same situation.
“If you break one more thing, so help me-“
“What? What are you possibly going to do? Not like I’ve got all that much to lose right now!”
Clearing his throat, Johnny stepped between the two warring wolves, placing his hand on Jeno’s shoulder; “It’s not Taeyong’s fault, so just take a minute to breathe-”
Before he could finish, he had roughly pushed the older male’s hand off of him, pushing his hair back; “Don’t touch me. I’m going to get my girlfriend.”
No one could really stop him, they knew that. Taeil figured, as the Alpha, if he was stupid enough to go into battle alone, then let him; they’d still show up to save his reckless ass. Like always.
“He’s doing it again… Why didn’t we get a plan, before actually letting him know this happened?” Renjun spoke up from the table, where Jisung, Hansol, and himself were making said plan, with the observations of the Alpha.
“Do we.. have enemies?”
Jisung’s voice mumbled, thinking of why this would happen, much to Taeyong’s dismay; “Why is the child in here? Why are any of the younger ones even involved?” His tone was almost whiny, causing Johnny to chuckle.
“Because, it’s Jeno. Besides, Jisung is the mind behind most of our plans,” he nodded, eying the younger, “And, to answer your question. We don’t have many, just one pack.. why do you ask?”
Clearing his throat, the youngest straightened his posture. “If that’s true, we just need to find them, and.. it shouldn’t be that hard. Around the area where y/n went missing from.. there was a scent of lavender. I’ve only ever met one person with that smell…what was his name? It was…”
Upon hearing the words, Hansol finally said something- “Jimin. His name is Park Jimin. He grows lavender because he can’t stand the smell of blood.. Ironic, since he’s part of the bloodiest pack around.”
He had a point- Hellsbane was known for there… gruesome scenes, but to have a member who was disgusted by most things; it was somewhat odd. Without any questions, the male stood up; “I’ll lead the way. I used to be close with one of them.. I know where she’ll be. Hopefully, Jeno isn’t far- or lost. Yuta, get the others- it’ll be easy if they’re by far outnumbered.”
It wasn’t hard to find Jeno, nor was it difficult to make their way to the house in the mountains. What was hard though, was having their presence not known- it was nearly impossible.
“Come to get your toy?”
Taeil was quiet for a moment, but stepped out first, closely followed by Yuta, and Hansol. “We have no quarrel with you, Hoseok.”
With a click of his tongue, the male hummed; “Now you see, that’s where you’re mistaken.”
Before the Nightshade Alpha could respond, a black blur had launched towards the rivaling male, teeth sinking into his sleeved arm; Hoseok released a stomach quenching sound of pain, while everyone else just cringed at the sound of shattering bone. “Jeno!”
It was Yuta’s voice, and soon enough, the lawn was adorned with twenty three canine forms, on the verge off all out war.
Sounds of growls, and jaws snapping filled the air- it most likely wouldn’t last long, mostly because of the numbers. Hoseok sat out, and Jimin was quick to retreat- Jeno was quiet in disappearing into the house, in search for where they might have you.
You felt numb.
Eyes swollen, chest hurting- not to mention the ache in our arms from being restrained. All you had heard was the sound of snapping, and the cry of your boyfriend’s name, and your head had dropped.
Worry filled your form, and you were currently close to passing out from crying.
Your eyes grew wide, head snapping up so fast it felt as though something could rip; there he was. Beginning to squirm, you did your best to try, and break free, whining lowly. The teen chuckled lowly, kneeling down to break the tie.
Immediately, your arms flew around him; “Sh, sh.. calm down, we need to get you out of here.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Settling you back into the corner, you watched closely to the male’s before you; they were no longer human.
You didn’t know what to watch, but at some point, you were no longer able to. The moment Jeno was on the ground with sharp teeth at his neck, you somewhat cut yourself off from the world, and squeezed back into the corner.
Where were the others? What were you possibly going to do if you lost him? So many thoughts were running through your head, that when you were being picked up, and carried out of the house, you didn’t even register it at first.
Soon enough, you began moving with wide eyes; “N-no- What about Je-”
Frowning, you settled under the gruff response of Hansol, and let him do whatever he had set out to do.
Sat on the couch, you chewed on your lips, and rocked- much to Hansol’s great annoyance. His hand moved to squeeze your shoulder, “Please. You’re giving me anxiety.”
“The last thing I saw was Jeno, about to have his throat ripped out! Do you expect me to be in the kitchen, making coffee?”
“You need to stay calm. Yes, he could be dead. Yes, he could walk through that door at any minute- Anything can happen. I get that that terrifies you- but, you are in a relationship with someone who can’t promise their return. You need to learn to be a little stronger,” he hissed out, causing you to sink against the couch, unable to respond.
“Are you two done yelling? I have a major headache..” Jeno’s voice grumbled as he entered the house, followed by everyone else. A few limping, and some a little bloody, but all in one piece for the most part.
In that moment, you couldn’t help but feel bad, lowering your head; you felt like it was your fault. You didn’t know why, or how- but, in your mind, it just was.
Before you could voice that, the raven was crouching down in front of you, arms slipping around your waist to nuzzle his head against your stomach. Your fingers threading through his locks, silent tears dripping into the hair; “I’m sorry..”
Shifting around, you leaned to kiss his head, just keeping your words to yourself like he requested. “You know I love you, right..? More than anything… I never wanted you to be put in that situation, and I never want you to be in it again. No matter what, no matter what happens, or who gets you, or who I have to go through- I’ll always come for you, okay? And, don’t tell me not to risk my life, or some movie shit.. because you know I won’t listen.”
As he spoke, you bit hard into your lower lip.
“You only get one mate, and it’s my job to take care of you. I can’t lose you, y/n. So, don’t argue, and just- just let me take care of you, and do what I’m supposed to do, okay? I know none of this is your fault… but, you never have to be scared when something like this happens.. because, I’m always, always going to have you in my arms, making you happy in the end.”
Leaning up, he quieted you with a soft kiss to your lips; “Didn’t I say be quiet?”
The words were quiet, and held no malice, just reminding you to hush. A smile formed on your lips, returning his kiss.
You really didn’t know what you did to deserve him.. but, you wouldn’t change it for the world.
“You told her to shut up, not me, so get your gross ass off my couch, and go clean up. The rest of us are hungry, and no, we won’t hesitate to leave you both behind to starve.”
And, of course, Yuta would have to ruin everything.
Murphy gives her his best sardonic expression. “When am I ever not, Princess?”
“I’m never gonna live that nickname down,” she grumbles, drumming her fingers on the table anxiously. “I should have waited until Wells could be here. Then at least I’d have someone I knew I could count on to be personable.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Wells and I are a volatile combination on our own; why not add your new boyfriend to the mix? Trial by fire is a thing, right?”
Wells is Clarke’s best friend from childhood, and he’s never been Murphy’s biggest fan. Nor vice versa. Things might have been different if his dad wasn’t the guy who’d pressed charges and put Murphy in juvie. If Murphy didn’t see Jaha prime every time he looked at junior, if junior didn’t see a delinquent every time he looked at Murphy. But their personalities differ enough that Murphy isn’t convinced it’s only his past that dampens what Clarke wishes would be a budding friendship.
They do okay sometimes, but she usually ends up keeping them separate.
“Not my preferred tactic,” she shoots back, but her tension has deflated a bit. “Seriously, though. How worried should I be that you’ll start a bar fight tonight?”
“How worried should I be that your new boyfriend is a dick?“ She gives him a look and he rolls his eyes. “I promise I will at least attempt this thing you call good behavior.”
“That’s all I ask,” she says, cracking a smile. “There might even be a gold star in it for you.”
“Shut up, Princess.”
He wanders over to the bar, fixing himself another drink while Gina is busy with some patrons. By the time he gets back to the booth, there’s a guy with floppy brown hair with his arm around Clarke. She’s not pulling away or anything, so Murphy figures this must be the boyfriend. He looks exactly like someone Murphy would ignore on the street trying to get him to donate to whales or Greenpeace or some shit like that, but hey. Maybe that does it for her.
“Here you go,” he says to announce his presence, sliding her drink across the table.
“Yeah.” He eyes the boyfriend, who is clearly sizing him up. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know what you liked.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I don’t really drink.” He extends the hand not resting on Clarke’s shoulder. “I’m Finn.”