It's Irish for 'yer fucked.'

✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢ Murphy MacManus of the Boondock Saints. Formerly sortalike7-eleven 

[betterluckwithabeer]

MURPHY CAN NOW BE FOUND [HERE] 

This is a test for him, on a multimuse blog. I am hoping to be able to keep up with him better there. All threads will be picked up from there!!! 

[betterluckwithabeer]

MURPHY CAN NOW BE FOUND [HERE] 

This is a test for him, on a multimuse blog. I am hoping to be able to keep up with him better there. All threads will be picked up from there!!! 

[betterluckwithabeer]

MURPHY CAN NOW BE FOUND [HERE] 

This is a test for him, on a multimuse blog. I am hoping to be able to keep up with him better there. All threads will be picked up from there!!! 

[betterluckwithabeer]

MURPHY CAN NOW BE FOUND [HERE] 

This is a test for him, on a multimuse blog. I am hoping to be able to keep up with him better there. All threads will be picked up from there!!! 

[betterluckwithabeer]

betwixtdarkxlight:

She smiled, drawing a hand away to finish eating.

Managed to stop after about ten helpings of pancakes, which for her, was remarkably little.  She hadn’t been lying when she said she was always hungry.

After dinner, she threw down enough cash to cover their bills, and a sizeable tip.  “Shall I walk you home, good sir?” she teased.  Hoped the food would have relaxed him a little.

Someone once said that relationships took work.  They hadn’t been wrong, but she never wanted to feel like a burden.

He'd been pretty damn impressed with just how many plates had been brought out between the pair of them. She'd taken in a good number of them, without showing signs of slowing or stopping. But, eventually, and likely much to the delight of the staff, they were finished up with their meal, and paid in full (even though Murphy had protested that he should be paying). Gathering up his jacket he slid from the booth and stood, a light smirk playing on his lips.

"Shouldn' I be t'e one askin' t'at?" She hadn't let him pay, the least he could do was walk her home instead. Offering out his arm, he hoped that there wouldn't be much of an argument about it, honestly. Murphy wanted to, he did. The soft subtle lines of a boundary that he knew, really, having been raised to be a gentleman. At least, as much of one that he could be.

[betterluckwithabeer]

betwixtdarkxlight:

“You’re overthinking,” she whispered, gently stroking her fingers through his dark hair, the curls catching and tangling around her fingers.  Hummed as his hands landed on her hips, and dipped her head to feel his swallow against her mouth.

This was good, soft and gentle, sweetly going slow.  She was starving, hungered for him, but at the same time, it was a hunger easily ignored, for the first time she could ever remember.

Pressing her lips back up his jaw, she pulled back to study his features.  There was one part of his face she hadn’t kissed, and she idly wondered if he even realised it.  Lovely boy.

In his defense, he was always overthinking. Even when they were lads, he was the quieter one of the two, watching and thinking, much more than carrying on a conversation like his twin. It had just been the role that he so easily slipped into -- so there he was, analyzing things, without even meaning to. She was right of course, he should just be enjoying this for what it was...

Slowly, his eyes opened back up, as he felt her pull back. Athena was a gorgeous woman, of course, fierce and proud too. He was in awe, constantly, how she has somehow formed a fascination with him, of all people. This wasn't anything at all near what he expected in his life. She was something spectacular, and he was made for brutality and bloodshed. Not that her hands were clean from it... but still.

There were no words that would form in that moment, blue eyes simply locked on her, trying his best not to shy away from the moment, like he was tempted to...

[betterluckwithabeer]

spoiledxkitten:

She took a long drag from the cigarette and exhaled the smoke into the cool night air. The smoke curled gracefully through the air as she brought her attention back to Murphy. Her hands were still on his chest. She grinned up at him when he accepted her invitation. 

“Old friends sharing a drink to adjust their standards.” Her voice was light and joking. “Sounds like a good time to me.” 

He had to chuckle a bit, as she took his words and ran with them. Yeah, alright. He'd give her that. With a few drinks, anyone's anything would be adjusted, standards or no. And if they were going to be catching up, he'd rather it be in the familiarity of a pub, than on the sidewalk, out in the open how they currently were. Not for the sake of not seeing her, of course, but more of a sense of security in such a reunion.

"T'en I say we've got ourselves a plan." Murphy offered her a smile, and gestured lightly with the cigarette still between his fingers, for her to lead the way.

@mnaxiontach

[betterluckwithabeer]

lxvingdeadgxrl:

   Sleep would likely evade her for the rest of the night, perhaps even the night after….It was hard to say when her nightmares got like this. All she wanted was one peaceful night, just one. Having Murphy around helped, it did, but lately? Lately, all bets were off.

   While he was out taking care of the tea, Wynter shifted on the bed, a hand brushing through her dark locks, the lingering remnants of a cold sweat on her brow. Normality…she craved it, though she knew full well that it wouldn’t be something easily achieved. Why he continued to put up with her, she’d never know.

   She was lost in her own head when Murphy returned, pale eyes glancing up at him as he offered her the mug. “Thanks…” she hushed, a weak smile on her lips.

   Room was made for him, her hands wrapping gently around the warm mug. “I….I don’t know.” she hushed. She’d promised Smecker that she would talk to Murphy about it, but she just…it was a lot to put on his shoulders, when she knew he already felt so guilty.

It wasn't putting up with her -- it was loving her still, no matter what. She'd seen him, knew what he was capable of, and still stayed. Why on Earth would he give up the love of his life, easily the best thing to ever happen to him, because she was different? That was what made her... her... and he wanted to help sooth the nightmares, not make them worse. God, how he wished he could take all her burdens away from her, how he wished he could do more than just offer company and tea. But he didn't know, and she wasn't easily letting him in to try. It was killing him, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Watching as her hands wrapped around the mug, he tried to pull any kind of answer, just by her posture, her expression. Something was bothering her, deeper than just the dreams... and it was guarded.

"I... I think maybe ye should." Murphy's voice was soft, his brow furrowed, as he reached to touch her knee gently. "M'not gonna make ye, if you don' want... bu' keepin' it in like t'is Wyn..."

[wibbling-rivalry-deactivated201]

The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day (2009) dir. Troy Duffy

“Let’s do some gratuitous violence.”

[betterluckwithabeer]

highlandxwitch:

“I wonder what it looks like these days,” She ran a hand over the top and down the back of her hair, “It’s been so long, I-” 

The faint sound of clapping thunder above head caused her to gaze upwards at the sky. Silver clouds passed over the sun, lighting flashed. With no umbrella and no other mode of transportation other than her own two feet, Morgan had to get going fast or else she’d get drenched head to toe going into work this afternoon. And that was no way to arrive to the first day on the job. 

“I don’t suppose you could spare some time to escort me to the pub?” She asked Murphy, flashing a hopeful grin, “I’ll buy you a drink with my first tip?”  

"Don't t'ink t'at place has e'er changed much." Murphy mused with a crooked sort of smile pulling at his lips.  Shit, there were bottles behind the bar that hadn't been touched in twenty years, he was fairly certain. Just kept there so there wouldn't be empty spaces. Maybe that wasn't true, but Doc wasn't really looking to renovate or anything, as far as Murphy was aware.

Looking to the sky the same time as she, he nearly inwardly sighed. That was one of the problems with not having a car - and rarely carrying anything but his smokes on him. When it rained. But she was talking again, and his eyes focused back in time to catch her grin. "Aye. Could do t'at." Murphy matched the smile, "Bu' I suggest we hurry."

[betterluckwithabeer]

spoiledxkitten:

She happily took the cigarette and lit it on the offered zippo. The cat looked over Murphy and grinned at his comment. She remembered all too well his smart ass ways. Honestly it was so refreshing to have it around. But she wouldn’t let on that too much.

“Oh you sell yourself short, Murphy.” Her hands were on his chest, mindful of the cigarette between her fingers. “I would say I would need to raise them. “How about a drink?”  

It was easy to sell himself short, really. With the echo of his mother's voice in his head in too many memories selling him short, it was all just a genetic flaw at his point, wasn't it? But a quirked grin and some smart assed words were easier to play off, than a moment of depressing thoughts.

"Aye, a drink would certainly raise t'e standard." He mused lightly, raising a brow at her fingers poking at his chest. A smile. As weird as their encounters might've been before, he was glad to see her again.

[betterluckwithabeer]

betwixtdarkxlight:

Her smile softened, and she cupped his jaw, gently smoothing her thumb over the bristles of his stubble, his throat working against her fingers.

Eyes were the windows to the soul, so they said, and Jesus, Murphy had an entire lifetime in his, the confusion, warring with the desire.

Touch gentling, she leaned in kiss both eyes, the eyelids fluttering under her lips, then his cheekbones, his nose.  A benediction, a blessing of her own sort.

The softest little noise escaped from somewhere in his throat, as her fingers caressed his skin. It was a touch he wasn't  accustomed to, and one that he was finding that he very much enjoyed. Murphy didn't dare open his eyes in that moment, the sensation of her lips touching his face so gently nearly overwhelming. Slowly, his hands found her hips, warranting another hard swallow from the Irishman.

He honestly didn't know where to go from there, or if she wanted it to go any further. Or if he did. But... for right now. This... this was good.

[betterluckwithabeer]

betwixtdarkxlight:

She nodded, giving him a smile.  “That’s okay, too,” she murmured.  “I mean it, Murphy.  You can do anything you like, or nothing.”

Clearing her throat, she managed a smile, going back to her own pancakes, lightly squeezing his hand.

It actually had been what she meant.  She didn’t want to pressure him, or make him too terribly uncomfortable.  Flustered was something else.

“Eat your eggs, they’re terrible cold.”

Even though she said it was okay, Murphy couldn't help but feel like there was something he was missing there, like some great big obvious answer that anyone else that had a normal veiw of relationships or sex drives would've known the answer straightaway. Still, he dutifully nodded a little, managing to give her hand a returning squeeze, before he looked down to his plate. Right in that moment, that made much more sense. That was a comfort that he could pull from, and hopefully hide his immesurable amount of awkward and naive behavior behind.

Forking some eggs into his mouth, he chewed them thoughtfully, glad for the fact at least that Athena seemed to understand that he wasn't one for sauve answers or even a fucking clue. Maybe this thing between them wouldn't be so hard after all?

[betterluckwithabeer]

lxvingdeadgxrl:

   A habit she didn’t seem able to kick, but she had a feeling it had something to do with that time spent with her uncle. She’d been made to feel like everything was her fault with him, that she was the one who needed to be sorry…It’d apparently stuck with her. But he was right…It’d be a continuous cycle of apologies, if it didn’t stop right then and there.

   Thankfully, it did stop there. Murphy pulled her in a bit closer, his arms providing a protective warmth that she desperately needed at that moment. 

   Ah…that was a good question, wasn’t it? As tired as she was, as much as she longed for sleep, she didn’t think that she’d be able to slip easily back into the restful state. “I-I think t-tea might be good.” she offered, her voice soft and timid. “Please?”

He had a feeling that sleep wouldn't come again that night. That was alright, tea was an easy enough task, and he leaned to press a kiss against her shoulder once more before getting up from the bed to work on it. Not bothering to dress, he padded to the kitchen in just his boxers, bustling about in there for a few minutes, before slowly making his way back to the bedroom with two full mugs. Setting one down on his nightstand, he shifted his hands against the mug, to offer her the handle to take.

Settling on the mattress beside her again, careful to not to jostle her, Murphy was quiet for a moment, watching her. "Ye.... wanna talk abou' it?"

[rheedus]

[fuzzytreesandnorman]

Norman Reedus

[betterluckwithabeer]

spoiledxkitten:

She was genuinely happy to see a familiar face. Her time had been wasted by boring men and women alike for weeks now. Murphy was at least an interesting man. One she could torment and tease to her hearts content. She motioned to the cigarette in his hand. 

“Mind if I grab one of those?” 

“I’ve been bored and honestly thinking about lowering my standards. Not a single person worth my time in ages. Then you pop back up. I can’t help but think that’s a sign.” 

Putting the stick in the corner of his mouth, he fished out his pack of cigarettes, opening it, and offering it out to her. Bumming a smoke was the least he could do, considering how long it'd been since they'd seen one another. Pack back in his pocket, he pulled out the silver zippo, expertly flicking it open and aflame, waiting for her.

"A sign t'lower your standards?" He grinned, pocketing the lighter again, and taking a drag of his cigarette, before flicking the ashes and looking back to Whiskey.

[betterluckwithabeer]

lxvingdeadgxrl:

   She wouldn’t wish her night terrors upon anyone. They weren’t just what had happened when she’d been taken, weren’t just from the torture and the pain…her past hadn’t been the easiest, and her nightmares often drew from those as well. But after her temporary imprisonment, after the torture…it all just sort of amalgamated into one, dreadful sludge of night terror…

   Honestly, she just prayed that it lessened over time, that eventually,  she might be able to go to bed without worrying about waking up in tears, a cold sweat, screaming, or all three.

   Please don’t apologize, he said…but it felt like she had so much to apologize for, though it was more to do with what was going on in her head, than actual guilt. There really wasn’t anything for her to be sorry for, but the words just spilled forth.

   “S-sorry…” she whispered, sniffling a bit. Apologizing for an apology…

It was a habit of hers, apologizing for things that she didn't need to, then apologizing when he called her out on it. Maybe Murphy should learn not to say anything... but he genuinely wanted her to know that she was not to blame for all that she carried on her shoulders. He knew, Lord he knew that she didn't have the best life, and there were scars on her heart that would always be there, but he wanted to help them heal. He wanted her to know her worth, her light, the love that surrounded her and every thought that he held for her.

With the smallest sighs, Murphy shifted again, so that he could pull her close to him and hold her. Saying anything about the second apology would only end up in the familiar cycle they seemed to be in. More than anything, he wanted an easier life for them both. The job would always be there, but Wynter deserved so much better, and he wanted to offer it to her, give her all that she wanted in life and more.

"D'ye t'ink ye can go back t'sleep, or should I make tea?" He asked her instead, his voice quiet, nose tracing lithely against the curve of her shoulder.