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…
I managed to meet Ashton tonight and holy shit he was so lovely. He took one look at me and asked if I was a tiger and I nodded to which he then went ‘you look so cute’ and I was just a mess. He then did this and I’m just floored. I love this boy so much and he just made my shitty year better. Thank you Ashton, for everything.
“He is to me the epitome of a gentleman, he is a walking lesson in grace and humility, he is kind, generous, has an insatiable curiosity and actually, I think he is pretty much the coolest dude that I know.” - Jenna Coleman
Happy 57th birthday, Peter Capaldi (April 14, 1958)
Annabeth smoothed down the front of her striped dress, analysing herself in the dusty mirror in the back of the shop. It was too late to change now, as she’d agreed for Percy to pick her up from here and not her apartment, but she couldn’t help fretting over the details of her outfit.
She couldn’t help remembering that Percy was a famous rockstar and she was the owner of a small and insignificant flower shop. Couldn’t help remembering that he had toured the world and she had never gone outside of Long Island.
The bell out front chimed and Annabeth stole one last critical look in the warped mirror, sighing, before ducking out of the back room. Percy was gently closing the front door when she emerged. He looked far tidier than the last time she had seen him, three days ago in this very shop. He wore a white shirt (sleeves stuffed up over his elbows) with a stick slim cobalt tie (fastened in a way which looked both hasty and careless at once), skinny black jeans (holes leaving his scarred knees on show) and converses (blue laces on the left, pink on the right).
He looked hot.
“Hi,” she said, breathier than she would have liked.