#have thought way too hard about how life would've been different if I'd been able to date my two best friends from middle and high school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dairy-farmer · 9 months

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Hi! 🥹🥹 I absolutely adore your writing and your characterization of Tim, like he’s so life like and real, but also super lovable. Your works has actually inspired me to write something about Tim, like the movie vibes and your words are so captivating?? Authors with magical words like you are so rare 😭 thank you for existing and posting and writing!! 🥰🥰🥹

I’ve read books and tried writing little by little. Sorry if this is annoying, please just ignore this question if you’re uncomfortable answering. I was wondering about your writing process and how you plan it out? Like, do you imagine Tim in a scenario, and he just automatically moves and talk? Sorry if this makes no sense. Like, because he’s smart and I’m not really so it’s kinda hard 😭

Your flow is also super super smooth and has a rhythm, which is 🥰🥰!! Like something about your writing is so pleasing. Thank you once again for sharing your works!! 😭😭 like your tumblr answers and tweets are written so well, if you publish books that’s not even about Tim, I’d buy it no doubt.

I hope you’re having a great month and great year, and everything is going smoothly for you 🥰🥰 thank you for inspiring me to write.

that's so great to hear!!!!!!!!!!! i'm so happy you've started experimenting with writing that makes me ecstatic to hear!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ it's most definitely not annoying and i'd love to answer to the best of my ability!!!

the way i write is a bit disorganized- it's usually an idea that hits me or a concept that unfolds in my mind from normal everyday things. for example: on twitter i wrote a dicktim thread fic that took place in the very back seat of a car on the ride home from the beach. i got the inspiration to write it from remembering how much i hated going to the beach as a kid because i'd get back to the car all wet and sandy and i'd be cramped in the backseat where the cooler, towel, bags, and bags of peoples wet clothes and bathing suits would all be and i imagined how much more it would've sucked if i'd been part of an even larger family and naturally since all i think about is tim i thought of him in that situation and how he probably would've ended up sitting on someone's lap on the ride home. so i think that ideas sort of come from all your experiences and things that you know. the more things you do, read, or watch help fill your head with little bits of information, tropes, and all different kinds of things that may end up creating ideas!!

in terms of how i plan things either in tweets, tumblr responses, and within fics in general. i don't actually outline anything- i really should though!!! i feel like thoughts would be a lot easier to organize if i outlined it first. but with twitter i just write what i think of as it comes to me. because of how twitter is structured it's hard to do a traditional 'beginning' 'middle' 'end' storytelling without it getting too long and the character limits on individual tweets means often your thoughts get interrupted by the limit so you have to delete and rewrite things for it to fit. tumblr and normal fic writing you sit down and do similar things but there's also more...thought put behind it? like on tumblr and when writing fics i can go back and change, add, or delete things without completely altering the general flow of it! so the platform you're using definitely plays a role in how well you can get into a rhythm of writing!

with how my brain works with imagining the scenes as i write them it's a little bit hard to describe? it's a lot like when you're reading- the scene is playing out in your head and not in front of your eyes like how it does when you watch TV. i learned some time ago that there are some people who don't have the ability to mentally visualize things. like if you asked someone to imagine an apple they wouldn't be able to do it. when i learned that it was incomprehensible to me because when i write it's less that i'm thinking it and more like i'm 'describing' what i see in my mind. like in my writing when i say tim is out of breath it's because he's panting like he's run a marathon. if i say his skin is glistening it's because he's sweating heavily and the light is bouncing off it. occasionally i do slip in more in-depth detail, like i wonder where the light source is coming from in order to get the 'glistening' effect and a more comprehensive layout forms in my head- maybe the curtains of the window is open and sun/moon is shining light in, maybe there is a bedside lamp, a candle etc. often times when i'm writing the scenes it's from the perspective of a 3rd person or a 'film camera' effect. i never see the scenes from the point of view of tim or any of the characters- it's like i'm always observing them from the corner of the room ( a bit of a creepy way to put it but that's how my perspective occurs). i don't think i 'direct' their actions very consciously, i sort of let them play out in my head by themselves and if i don't like how something is going i 'replay' it and do the scene again until it's formatted or done in a way that i like and that's what ends up getting written down. that's the reason why a lot of my stuff isn't particularly dialogue heavy, i focus more on descriptions and internal monologues and scene settings and i tend to use dialogue when i'm leading to some conclusion or something to push the scene/get the plot moving.

also your point about tim being really smart rings true because if you want to do a mystery you need to plan and figure it out first- the problem with writing a very intelligent or clever character who always comes out on top is that you sort of need to be smart to do it and pull it off 😭😭😭😭😭

thank you so much for all your kind words 🥰🥰🥰🥰 it makes me so happy to learn that you enjoy my work and it makes me even happier to know that you've been inspired to write!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

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I like to make all my Tav's co-exist, I have them "cover" The other companions if the current PC doesn't interact with said companion during that PCs playthrough. Ex: Kira wouldn't be that interested in talking to Gale during her playthrough, so in my Canon I'd have Khal'ian in the party to filter out information about Gale to Kira.

Basically, if that Tav/durge isn't the leader during that playthrough the others get delegated to be walking sparknotes, and or being a companion who's story plays out differently that time around.

As for Kira & Khal'ian, I don’t think they'd get along at first initially.

Kira is the type of person that loves to quickly get under people's skin to sus out their motivations and real personalities; To Kira how someone handles their rage speaks volumes.

She'd see Khal'ian shy/soft demeanor as a challenge to split open (her corruption kink coming in). She'd find cracks in his mask; find the pressure points that make him mad only to find that Khal'ian recedes into himself emotionally instead of getting angry.

Not the type to be dissuaded Kira would switch to trying to dig out secrets,but at the same time she'd find his distance an annoyance.

Khal'ian would find Kira irritating. Not for her remarks, he's heard worse from kin and the digging for secrets he could understand given the circumstances.

Khal'ian would hate how Kira uses her charisma, finds himself green with envy. He'd see how easily Kira can get others to believe in her character then see how instead of making connections, she uses that belief to tear them down. If he had half of her charisma, his life at the monastery would've been so much more bearable.

They'd only start being friendly with each other after fully observing how both sides fight.

Neither one of them can pinpoint which battle it was, but they noticed parts of each other that shined bright.

Khal'ian saw clearly how tactical Kira was in battle; to the unobservant eye it would seem that Kira floundered about like a tom-cat in heat, pulling random gambits out of her boot without any rhyme or reason.

But if he grasped her masks, pulled them apart and cut himself on their jagged edges. It became clear to him that Kira was a highly effective tactician, who calculated each detail down to the finest hair.

A woman who used her charisma to pull the worst out of people not to harm them, but to try to protect them from others and themselves.

It was effective.. but it made Kira seem very lonely as an end result. Khal'ian question her about it once and after the shock was done washing over her face, Kira spoke solemnly.

" Life at sea is hard and being a captain even more so, it's not all Tits n' Rum Khal. If I'm not careful enough with my plans, my own men would have my head on a pike before an enemy even reaches me."

"No, a ship needs a captain who loathes the sacrifice of even a single man. And in order for that to be a viable option, I need to know my crew inside and out; even if they curse me in the end, they'd still be able to breathe to do so.."

And she let out a laugh, one that seems to be too tired for a woman her age.

"Unfortunately for the group, that includes you little dragon. I'm starting to see you as my crew"

And as she sauntered off, Khal'ian swore that he would try and help that weariness, because unfortunately for Kira he's starting to see her as a friend.

I'll talk more about how Kira began to see Khal'ian differently in another ask, alongside talking about Issal ( My Drow Artificer). How she met Khal'ian pre-game, but she has to survive the first hour my Honor run first.

Wyll drabbles are fighting their way out of WIP hell

-githzerai anon

You really know your characters well and put a lot of thought into them and the world building! It's impressive

Good luck with the wip anon!

#♡Githzerai anon

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mindsmade · 6 months

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@afraidofchange / meme: propose, sender proposes to receiver.

The Pacific's waves are lapping at the shore. There's not a sound but the hiss of that water to be heard, apart from the occasional seagull squawking overhead. He sits in silence with Miranda at his side, on this beach that's finally been cleared of the rubble — of the aircraft panelling, pieces of armour torn from soldier's bodies, buildings torn apart and flung miles from their foundations, and who knows what types of organic waste.

Bodies. So many bodies — he should've been one of them, by rights.

But he isn't. He was pulled from a towering pile of that same type of rubble back in London himself months ago, hauled into a clinic and nursed back to health again. Somehow it feels no different being dragged back from the cusp of death than from its deepest reaches.

Well, almost no different. This time, he feels more at peace than he ever has. The galaxy lay in shambles upon his awakening, but it was in better condition than he left it in, somehow.

The same can be said for himself — and, again, at Miranda's hands. Though her involvement in his recovery didn't kick in till weeks after the Crucible's deployment, her influence was felt in every cybernetic holding his body together from the start.

He tries not to think of it too often, really, but it's pretty damned hard when his life is centred around his recovery, still. Even here, or perhaps especially here, with nothing to do but to bask and allegedly empty his mind, he struggles to keep his retrospection at bay.

Aiden sees her shift in the corner of his eye though, just to his right. His head turns to face her, to take in the wind tousling her hair, but all he winds up seeing truly are those deep blues peering right back at him for a good, long while.

Even the breakers seem quiet now.

And then Miranda isn't — quiet, that is. Her tone may be hushed, but the words it carries across hit him like a flashbang grenade. Intense at first, and then all turns to white. Not a moment later, the cogs in his head start spinning.

A proposal? The first thought that crosses his mind is a resounding yes, followed by the question whether he shouldn't have been doing the proposing. His delight ( a word he'd never think to apply to describe his mood with ) crushes his self-doubt in the blink of an eye though, and his face lights up from its original astonishment no later.

❛ You're serious? I mean, ❜ he shifts in the sand, scrambling to kneel beside her crossed legs. It's not as quick and as fluent a movement as it would've been before the thorough beating he took all those months ago, but he manages.

He cleans the sand off his palms on his shorts before taking her face between both hands. ❛ There's not a single person alive I'd rather spend the rest of my life with, Lawson. ❜ Towards her he leans, simultaneously pulling her in for a smile-tinged kiss.

It's in that moment of contact that his unadulterated joy makes punctures his composure in a more confound way. He's not about to cry, but he could. He's touched to profound enough an extent that he's afraid of just what his expression might betray if he pulls back too far. But he's no coward, and if anyone's permitted to see past the stoic helmet he always wear, it's Miranda.

So he pulls back, just far enough for his eyes to be able to focus on hers. ❛ Sure know how to keep me on my toes, Miranda ... You about ready for happily ever after? ❜

#afraidofchange #query / ic.#❛ thread / aiden shepard.#WAAAA #i mean. when he calls her 'miranda' at the end? that's real #that's my heart leaping out of my chest actually!!!

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celticwoman · 1 year

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20-25 for ur current fav!!!!

ADELINE & TEDDY

20. If they disagree, who's usually the one to compromise? I feel like they rarely do, they're both very chill people so most of the time they can come to an agreement together without much trouble, but on the off chance that things get a bit more... heated, I guess, I'd say Teddy is most likely the first of the two to kind of give in, or step back and try to calm the situation down so that they can find some common ground.

21. If they live together, how do they split household responsibilities? They just agree to do the things the other doesn't really enjoy doing. For example, he will take out the trash for her while she might cook for both of them whenever she can, or she tidies the apartment while he does the dishes, things like that. If there's something neither of them likes doing, they just take turns.

22. What's different about their backgrounds? Do those differences affect the relationship? Their backgrounds are, in a way, pretty similar, I'd say. They're both basically nepo babies, they didn't grow up in the same circles and their families are very different, but they share a lot of similar experiences. Whenever they do find differences, I don't think they're relevant enough to affect their relationship.

23. What was their first impression of each other? They met at a fancy ski resort, he was taking some time off with his brothers while Adeline was vacationing with her mom, and at some point of their trip they got stuck on the ski lift together. Teddy was smitten from the moment he met her. It was, of course, a very superficial attraction at first, but as time went on, they realised they might be there for a while and started getting to know each other, he became fascinated by her. She was quite irritated with the situation, which made her act a little mean at the beginning, but their conversation was able to calm her down. In the end, they didn't really notice how much time they had spent stuck because of how at ease and comfortable they had felt with each other. She thought he was a sweet guy although a little intense. He was already super into her and thought she was very cool and also nice (by that point he already had heart eyes for her so she could have done literally anything and he would've been be like 'wow what an angel 🤩'). Anyways, the funny thing is he didn't have a clue who she was until he mentioned her to his brothers and they made fun of him for not knowing. It made things way easier once he realised she was quite famous, and he decided to reach out to her after their trips ended.

24. How did they fall for each other? I think Teddy actually fell for her once he got to know her better. Adeline wasn't really interested in dating but for some reason she really enjoyed spending time with him, so it was hard for her to say no to him whenever he suggested they spend time together. Her genuine laugh is what really got him, he began to notice how she was letting herself be her real self around him, that she was comfortable enough around him to not hold back, and he felt so honoured and it was such a precious thing for him. Teddy realised then that he wanted to hear and be the reason for that laugh every single day for the rest of his life. For her it was a much slower process, she was against catching feelings and she kicked herself whenever she agreed to see him, but she couldn't help herself, he was cute and sweet, and so, so nice to her... She had never been in love before so she was quite scared too, he just made her feel so happy and safe that she sometimes forgot all about it while they were together. It wasn't until he told her how he felt that she started contemplating the fact that, even if she didn't want to, maybe she had started to fall in love with him.

25. Who said "I love you" first? Even though he confessed his feelings first, he didn't dare say it yet, I mean, he knew for sure he was in love with her, but he also knew she was very apprehensive and it might scare her off, so he held back and kind of gave her some space so that she didn't feel pressured or uncomfortable. Adeline was the one who said it first. After she opened up about her feelings with him, she started feeling more confident and took charge of the situation most of the time. She said it quietly one evening while they were laying in bed together, hugging each other in silence. Neither of them made a big deal out of it, he said it back, and they both felt relieved that everything was finally out in the open.

send some numbers and the names of the couple! (+ you can find my oc directory here)

#MAN i love them so much #i've been thinking about them a lot lately #just realised this is a 'he fell first but she fell harder' kind of situation #it wouldn't seem like it at first sight given how he's so much more open with his feelings and likes pda a lot more than she does #but she thinks the world of him. there's nothing she wouldn't do for him #anyways! thank you so so much jas <3 this was incredibly fun #ask #ask game #jas tag

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typho-draws · 1 year

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What's the lore with your fallout oc, Angel?

omg hi!! :-D

his infos a little all over the place because i've never 100% written it down, but i can try summing up the major stuff best i can for u.. lots of text under the cut-

ángel's from somewhere along the westish... i've not really figured out where. i'd like to imagine that for the most part he was just getting by. getting what he needed, doing what he needed, helping whoever needed help (when passing by) etc. dude was never a vault dweller or anything like that and pretty much grew up with his family in the wasteland. they maaaybe had a small farm/ranch. not to sell produce just like... live off of it ig. in some ways he was like a post-apocalyptic cowboy. and that’s how his life went for a while until.. i dunno. right before his 20s? maybe late teen years? i’ve not decided what happened with his family but i’d say they got separated and he found out bad stuff happened to them. it’s a little cliche ik. but he’s moved on from that at this point. sorta. maybe there’s a living lost relative out there that he don’t know about. I DON’T KNOW!!!!!!!!!! still have lots to think about with that. but anyways!!!!!!!!!!

at some point during his usual routine of hiking out towards... where ever he was going to get whatever he was going to get (have not put much thought into what he would've been grabbing u_u) things didn't go as smooth as they usually would. the difference being a big, green, nasty, incredibly irradiated deathclaw. it was probs a case of him noticing it way too late and not being able to get to somewhere it can't in time. bro prob saw his rifle too and was like "this is definitely not going to do shit" and tried booking it.

it's hard putting to words what i picture in my head like... the sequence of what happened-- but i imagine ángel running, cliche trip along a road (or maybe rock? whatever it would be it'd end up scraping one side of his jaw pretty bad.... or maybe instead tripping he got pushed by the thing... idk), and then being grabbed and sliced through his shoulder (and maybe somewhere else... i unno) by the dc.

pretty sure he gets knocked out, but it's a gray area with the dc leaving. i can't decide if it loses interest, is attacked by something else, or keels over and dies itself or sumn (ik they're not werewolves but i sure do love werewolf parallels! so it'd be like... passing on its yucky to him... although not reeeally.) and if todd's allowed to mess around with how things work then i can too! the wound it leaves ángel with heals... sort of... the caveat is that over some tiiiime (not short or too too long of a time span) it mutates his hand into a dc hand!

ángel picks up a new perspective on life (as you could imagine with a really fucked near death experience), like what he's doing, and if this thing going on with his arm is going to progress or 'stabilize.' maybe he tried going back to being his usual friendly "hey fellow traveller!" kind of self?? but after bad interactions (considering he has this crazy weird arm that he likely didn't cover up at first because it wasn't too serious) he starts keeping his arm in wraps and becomes a lot more withdrawn as a whole.

soon enough, probably after a breakdown of sorts, he figures fuck it! time to travel a whooooole lot. maybe to disconnect himself with what happened, or maybe find some sort of consolation (i guess in addition to further in his past. like him getting separated from family and them ending up passing?... i have no clue. regardless he got dealt the wrong hand at least twice. no pun intended.) perhaps he wants to find if there’s a way to reverse the whole hand situation. who knows! regardless-- he makes the trek eastward. just to go where ever and see whatever. do whatever as long as it’s fulfilling.

and ! well! he ends up in west virginia because.... fo76... and that’s where he’s at now! in summary he just likes to travel around and do stuff here and there without attracting too much attention to himself. ig in a way where its like... help out a few people if he wants to/has to and then move on. he’ll travel back west eventually. maybe.

---

i will say that i do like slap him in alternate timelines/instances bc he’s a big fallout oc all around that i LOVE REUSING!!!!!!!!! but this is his most major info. my apologies if it’s kind of rough!!! like i said i’ve never really written it out before ; _ ; !!!

i think i’ll come up with a google doc or sumn that has his info laid out and neat on it. or toyhouse... i’ve not used that in forever. i’ll make something for him eventually. thanks for asking by the way!! :-D he’s one of my favorite ocs.

i’ve got lots of wips of him that i plan on finishing and posting soon LMAO i’ve just not. gotten around to that because of college <//3

#ángel #there's definitely going to be some errors in this bc i wrote the majority of this between classes yesterday #a toyhouse or google doc for him doesn't sound that bad tbh.....#fallout oc

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 2 years

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Thank you so much for the costs/benefits analysis, I agree with most of it and would like to add the benefits of the additional Pleasing sales (and the other brands they were peddling, like eliou) and free promo for MP. A lot of middle aged women and/or mothers also might feel better about Harry now (and buy his stuff), a huge prospective customer segment. And also the networking his team has made through Olivia, might come in handy, even if he quits film.

About the costs: Not sure the queerbaiting allegations are a bother, we might see them disproportionally. And it's hard to link the fact that there won't be an Oscar in Harry's future to the fake rs directly, it might rather be his airy attitude towards the movie business or...ehm...his acting. He's far from being an unbookable actor, but his fandom is a risk, which paid off for MP big time. All in all nobody can't say if Holivia got more or less butts in seats than it would've gotten otherwise.

Costs for Harry personally might be a decline in mental health due to the pressure he's been under for a long time from many different parties, like his label, his fans, witnessing the horrific misogyny and feeling responsible, maybe Olivia's side, maybe his loved ones (who might hate to see him troubled, or have to be a part of it, or hate stunts in general). I know that Harry is the best judge of what causes him pain, but with Holivia I'd say the chances that it didn't are very very low.

Another fickle thing is the loyalty of longtime, hardcore fans with staying power (and $$$). Right now I feel it's not a problem because of the perfect 'monster' Olivia was (obviously she isn't) and the gains in less engaged fans. But will the latter stay or move on in two years? The financial gain will still be much higher than the ~7% of highly invested fans who left (they did free promo for MP instead : )

Personally, I'd love love love to know where Harry's red line is, the thing he'd consider too high a cost...Anyway, sorry for spaming you with my thoughts, I always love to read yours, there is nobody else like you in fandom (heart emoji)

*************

Thanks for your thoughts anon. I absolutely agree that the advantage of going next level in his career is much wider than just the album an include things like Pleasing. With acting it's not so much that I think the fake relationship has stopped it from an Oscar, but it has contributed to their being lots of think pieces about how bad he is at acting.

I'm not sure where your approximately seven per cent of hard core fans left because of Holivia figure comes from. I would be very sceptical myself. There's always some sort of turnover of hardcore fans.

I like the way you discuss Harry's mental health I have found that discussions of the impact of the closet on Harry's mental health within fandom have a tendency to focus on things that cause fans distress (and are often part of the justification for that misogyny) an show no curiosity about Harry. I've always thought that there's no particular reason to assume that pretending to date people was the most damaging part of the closet - it could be difficult, but it might not be.

But I recently listened to the podcast with the pap who took the photos of Harry and Olivia at Jeff's wedding (episode 142). And there's one detail that I hadn't been able to stop thinking of. The pap talked about how Harry is known for really hating having his picture taken (he emphasised this a lot), but on this occasion Harry had a drink and was relaxed. I immediately thought of Michael Grandage's comments about the ease with which Harry played Tom drunk. That has really stuck with me.

Obviously there's a cost to being closeted in his life and also to being this famous, but we don't know how it manifests itself.

#Oh Harry #there's a lot going on #and that exchang with his therapist #asking if she understands now #will haunt me

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mariyekos · 6 months

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Oh yeah! I cleared TOP about a week ago. I'm really proud of us, it took a lot of work and it was so nice to see it paid off. Thoughts and clear video below!

My original group ended up disbanding after 5 months of 3 days, 3hr/day schedule which was a big disappointment but for the best. We lost one person and had to get a new one, but after that I think people's hearts weren't really in it. The way things were going I think it would've taken another 3 months to clear if we could even get it, because our prog point was technically P5 Sigma, but we were only getting there a handful of times a night so we were hardly making any progress at all. So we decided to disband to save our sanity, time, and friendship.

Fast forward to two months ago when I decided I wanted to give it another shot. I ended up inviting 4 of the original crew members, 1 member of my savage static who'd cleared but wanted reclears, and put out recruitment messages for 2 more- one tank and one melee. I only got 2 responses- one from a tank, one from a melee. They were at Delta prog rather than Sigma prog, but I talked with the group and they were cool with giving them a shot. As you can probably guess...it worked out! They did great and those of us who hadn't been in the fight in 5 months deducted pretty quickly.

I originally did the fight on AST. In the oicture uo above, I'm on SCH (4th from the left, between the DRG and BRD). That's because with the reformed group we would've had 2 casters (OG caster and my savage static member), so I asked the savage member if he could heal and he said he would if he could WHM. I love AST and I spent 5 months of my life doing the fight on AST so that's where all my muscle memory was, but I thought it would be worth it to switch.

The hardest parts of this fight are the mechanics after all. The healing isn't easy per se, but adjusting to a different healer wasn't too bad overall. ...Other than getting used to how delayed all of SCH's heals are, and how much more setup it requires. With AST, my heals were pretty instant. I'd press neutral one GCD, then my heal would come out the next. Quick and easy and practical to do last second. For P2 Flares, that was it for me. On SCH, oh boy did I learn the hard way from many not-spread-in-time Spreadlo's! On SCH it's Broil into Recitation, Broil into Protraction, Biolysis into Summon Seraph (+ Lucid sometimes), Adlo with no oGCD because no time, Broil into Deployment Tactics, Broil into Fey Illumination, Broil into Consolation, Broil into Sacred Soil, a Broil or two as filler (+ Whispering Dawn if I felt like it), Broil into Consolation, done. Where AST was just Malefic into Neutral Sect, Aspected Helios, done. It was a big change! I had to watch my recordings over and over to figure out the GCD to start things on so I could 1) get everything out in time, and 2) not have anything fall off before I wanted it to.

I love the quick thinking of cards with AST, and the adjustment needed for every pull depending on how long the initial CD is, as well as the ability for single target heals and shields given by the 2 charges of Essential Dignity and Celestial Intersection. Every pull is a little different! And I have the ability to do some quick thinking heals on the spot without losing anything. On SCH I still have to be able to perform complex actions/thinking in order to set up heals to maximum effect and that's a lot of fun, but it's more consistent than AST. It also takes longer to set up, as shown above. Unfortunately I lost a lot of the quick thinking heals, since the only thing SCH really has is lustrate, which I either can't use because I don't have charges, or don't want to use either because I want to DPS, or because I need it for a Soil later on. It made me pretty nervous at first! I'm so used to having Essential Dignity as an instant heal, so when someone got low and I had to adlo I was internally screaming as I prayed the heal would get out in time given the long cast.

Having Ruin 2 in P6 was a godsend. Thankfully our comp was just about the best comp possible for P6, so as long as everyone was hitting their buttons we weren't worried about the DPS check at all. As in, our DPS was so good that one run we made it to 0.1% enrage when our RDM forgot to pot! Which hurt my soul because that was the first time we made it past meteors and we were so close...and our RDM didn't pot...Well anyway we've got 7 clears now so it's okay!

Other than that...this new group took 5 weeks to clear, also 3 days a week. I'm not counting our trial day since that was derust/trial and we immediately took 2 weeks off. The 0.1% enrage was on Week 5 Day 1, and our first clear was on Week 5 Day 3. We raid Fri/Sat/Sun, and this past week (yesterday, today is Monday) we got 2 clears per day. This week is going to be our last week together before we go our separate ways. ...for now, at least.

When I formed the group I had a hard cutoff date for the end of this year. The only exception was if we were on enrage- and I mean having seen enrage on enrage, not "basically at the end of the phase." We ended up almost beating it by the end of November! And got it the first week of December instead. After our first clear I proposed we do 2 weeks of reclears, mostly because I was worried I'd have another TEA situation where we couldn't get reclears for a few days. When I remade the group my hope was for an absolute minimum 3 clears, with 5 being what would satisfy me. After we got our first clear I told the group I wanted to do 2 weeks and that we could re-evaluate after 1 if we got enough reclears, but when I asked yesterday if anyone felt strongly about wanting to be done no one felt like disbanding yet, so we're doing 1 more week which is great. I don't know what weapons I'll even get with my totems tbh. I got SCH first, then AST after our 3rd clear. I'll probably get MCH and maybe WAR or DRK, but after that? Actually scratch that- I'll get WHM and SGE. So 1) SCH, 2) AST, 3) SGE, 4) WHM, 5) MCH, 6/7) DRK WAR? And then after that who knows. ...Though the BRD bow does look really cool. I don't play BRD ever but maybe this is my sign to use it more! Hopefully we'll get at least 2 clears per day this next week, to leave us with 13 total. If we get 4 a day- which is definitely possible since we raid for 3hrs and the fight is only 20min, which would mean 2 clears per hour with some time for failure- we'd get the 12 total clears needed for weapons for every job. I'm not super pressed about it though. Like I said, my original hope was 3-5. Everything beyond that is a fun bonus.

...okay that's long and rambling, so I'll cut it off here! I have more I could probably share, but I also have a lot to do so I need to get going. Last thing though- our BRD ran off around the arena after the clear and I totally missed him in our GPOSE and didn't notice until after we left for the day which frustrated me. He'd gotten his clear in PF after we disbanded the first time so it wasn't his first clear but it made me sad :( OK ramble over for real!

If you've read this far, cool! If not, hey this is 90% for me because I like keeping records of things so cool anyway. Clear video below!

youtube

#ffxiv #erurandomness #eruplays ffxiv #eruxiv #eruffxiv #Youtube

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alienhazy · 8 months

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Jude 1:6

When I was born, I suffered two strokes while being held by the doctor.

My mom tells me that that was what caused my paralysis; two strokes, back-to-back, resulting in permanent damage to my brain and body. I can't talk, can't use the bathroom by myself, can't move any part of my body besides my fucking eyelids. When you're trapped in your own body, while everyone around you treats you as if you've never had an intelligent thought in your life, you start to harbor some resentment to the very people trying to help you, even if you can't do anything about it.

As a kid, I was very alone. I was the only child, and my mom had had me out of wedlock, which meant that I didn't have a dad, either. You'd think that as a result of this I would be close to my mom, would love and trust her, and yeah, maybe back then that was true. She never talked down to me, never treated me like I was some brain dead vegetable, cared for me…

For a while.

I'm sitting in my room watching the sun come up after another sleepless night of beeping machines, blinking lights, and the hissing of my CPAP that I wasn't wearing, since Mom had gone to bed drunk for the third night this week and hadn't put it on me. I wasn't sleeping, so it wasn't like it mattered, but that didn't mean that I wasn't extremely mad about it—I could literally die, and had I gone to sleep I probably would've. Maybe that was what she wanted.

Had it been any other day besides Thursday, the sound of the key in the lock of the front door would've scared me a bit, since my mom didn't have any friends and I certainly didn't, either; however, I knew who it was, and as if on cue, my nurse Tonya could be heard making her way down the hallway towards my room, her keys jingling and hard-soled shoes tapping against the (once pretty) hardwood floors. She said something before she entered the room, but I couldn't make out what it was, squeaking of the door hinges announcing her arrival in time with her sweet, cheery voice greeting, "Good morning, Billie Willie!"

I wanted to be mad that she called me that, but I could never be mad at her. She was the nicest person I knew and took really good care of me, even if my mom gave her problems by insisting we didn't even need a nurse. Bitch. "Oh, you're up already! And looks like your mom took care of your CPAP, too. Ready for your bath?"

Although I could move my eyes, I didn't and continued to stare out the window, that aching, horrible, unending sadness that always came around during the night sitting like a weight in my chest, the only thing I could feel on that part of my body; from my right, Tonya came into view and blocked the window as she began unhooking me from my machines, her dark skin flawless as always, the pretty emerald of her makeup matching the scrubs she was wearing, along with the necklace that dangled in front of my face as she checked my intubator. I've always thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, and was secretly glad when her transfer to a different patient was canceled after they died—you didn't hear that from me, though. "How do you like my new perfume? Blink for me," She requested, and I did so, blinking twice to tell her that it smelled good, because it did. Tonya smiled and gave my nose a boop, which, if it'd been anyone besides her, I would be pissed, but I know she did it because that was just how she was. "Good, I'll put some on you after your bath."

Off we went to the bathroom, Tonya pushing me in my wheelchair out of the doorway and down the hall, past my mom's room, which had the door cracked open; inside, briefly, I could see her passed out on her bed, holding her stuffed dog with a bottle of coconut rum (her favourite) on the floor, the lid gone and half the contents of the bottle spilled out everywhere. Had I been able to, I would've sneered, but instead I returned my eyes to the wall, the pictures hanging there beginning to collect dust; I'd seen them a million times before, but no matter how often they whiz by on my way to the bathroom, I still can't recognize any of the people in them.

Tonya used my foot in my stirrup to push the halfway ajar door to the bathroom open, her voice edging on sad when she saw the state of it; it was still exactly the same as she'd left it when she was here two days ago, my mom not even bothering to clean it or take care of the dirty laundry, the towel that was dropped on the floor soaking wet and starting to smell like mold. "Jesus Christ—oop, I mean, dang," She said in a hushed tone, coming around from the back of me to start picking everything up. "Gimme one second, Billie, I'm just gonna get this stuff put away." She lifted the wet towel between two fingers with a disgusted face, her perfectly manicured nails serving as tongs to hold it so she wouldn't have to actually touch it.

I hated how dirty the house was. I liked for things to be neat and orderly, everything in its place and organized for ease of access, but my mom was the exact opposite of that; she used to clean, I remember, singing along to music playing on the TV and giving me a little concert as she vacuumed. That was years ago now. I couldn't have been older than 12, and now, at the ripe old age of 20, my mom wasn't even a ghost of her former self.

I'd probably only been sitting alone in the bathroom for about ten minutes when Tonya came back with a clean towel, the front of her scrubs dampened around her pudgy stomach and normally bright face full of worry. However, she wiped that look away and gave me a smile, beginning to undress me so I could have my first bath since the last time she was here. "Off come the pants!" She announced as she always did, pulling them off of me with more ease than I expected, no matter how many times she'd done this; next was my underwear, then my shirt and bra, and before I knew it I was naked and being put into my bathing harness, the whirr of the motor lowering me into the tub the only sound in the quiet space around us. "Oh, forgot to fill the tub! Sorry if it's cold on your butt, Billie," She apologized, letting the machine finish its business as she plugged up the drain and started the water—lukewarm, how I preferred it. She had actually asked me when she'd done this for the first time, unlike my mom, who just used whatever came out of the faucet, even if it was ice cold.

She was right about the tub being cold on my butt and back, and there was some kind of pain, too, on my legs, which only got worse as the water reached me and began pooling around my body. I looked over to her and blinked as fast as I could, which wasn't very, a vain attempt to get her attention; she was busy with getting my shower stuff out from under the sink, though, and didn't turn around to look at me until the water was at my stomach, turning it off with a swiftness. The click of the top of the soap being opened, the splash of the water from her filling a cup, and then my body was being cascaded with water so temperate I could barely feel it, Tonya beginning to wash me with a soft, natural sponge—it'd been a gift from her. She said that it would help keep my skin soft, and although I wouldn't know if it worked, I did enjoy the way it felt when she washed me, making bath time that much more enjoyable. "Alright, I'm gonna roll you over, brace yourself."

I laughed internally at her joke, and she laughed aloud, a little chuckle escaping her always smiling face as she turned me slightly on my side, just enough to access my back and butt.

A pause. The energy in the room grew cold, Tonya's hands on my upper back stopping in their motions and in their tracks—what was she looking at? I got the chance to ask her, because she turned me back around and looked at me with complete seriousness, though there was that signature concern she seemed to always get whenever something was out of place. I blinked a couple times, and she held my hand, looking me in the eyes. "Billie, I need you to be honest with me, okay? Has your mom been taking care of you? You…" A beat, then she continued, "You have a few bed sores on your back, small ones, all the way down to your thighs. Blink once if she isn't."

Bed sores, huh? Well it was about time that something like that happened; usually, Mom would shift me around every couple hours, even if it was just rolling me to one side on my bed, but ever since Tonya had been here the last time, she hadn't done anything. I was surprised she even fed me.

I blinked once.

Tonya sighed, her head dropping and shoulders going with it into a slump. Nothing was said besides a whispered, "Okay," and then she continued in washing me, silence filling the room even as the water lapped against the side of the tub.

After my bath, Tonya finished up my basic needs like changing my bedpan, making sure I had all my medicine, along with a number of other things I didn't get to see due to where she'd put me in my room; my bed sores needed special treatment, but thankfully she'd already brought some stuff needed for it beforehand, like the mattress overlay to take pressure off the wounds and dressing to clean and cover them. I was kind of excited to get to lay in my bed, for once, as normally being confined there with only the lilac walls as entertainment was enough to bring me to tears, but I'd been in my wheelchair for a couple days now, and was really starting to get tired—it wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world. For longer than a few hours, anyway.

Cleaning wasn't exactly a part of Tonya's job description; given the state of our house, however, it made sense that she'd want to get at least some done—that's what she told me, anyway, before leaving me there on my bed. From outside my window, I heard the sound of kids laughing and feet running on concrete, causing a pang of sadness to bite at my insides. Yeah, I've never known what it's like to walk, to talk, to do anything besides sit there and stare, but even just those small sounds, those of happy children with friends and working legs, was enough to make my eyes slide shut, my entirety wallowing in that melancholy ocean, slipping further and further beneath the waves, sinking like a stone.

I'd been fed, medicated, bathed, and now that my clothes were clean and my bed was made, I was quickly falling asleep, the sound of Tonya doing the dishes and the feeling of tears running down my cheeks the last sensations I experienced before I drifted off.

It was late when I woke, but not terribly; my eyes flickered open to the sight of the sun shining through my window at a slight angle, indicating it was probably somewhere around 3PM, which meant that Tonya had been gone for a while now. If I'd been able to sigh, I would've.

A blanket of eerie silence had covered the whole house, not even the low murmur of the TV in the living room breaking it—was Mom still in bed? It wasn't unusual for her to sleep late, but even at her worst, she still made sure to get up and check on me before heading back to sleep. Part of me wondered if she'd finally died, the alcohol and abuse of my pain medicine creating that fatal concoction that took her in her sleep, but even as I had that thought, I knew it wasn't true. I could hear the creaking of her bed, the quick dragging shuffle of her slippered feet to the bathroom, the retching into the toilet as she puked up last night's dinner of liquor and pills.

She never used to be like this. My mom had always been sad, the result of a boyfriend that ghosted her the second he found out she was pregnant, a mom who died only days after I was born, her siblings taking all her mom's money and leaving her nothing with which to care for her now disabled daughter. I'd watched her fight for even a crumb from the state, watched her grow and change just as she did me, but instead of her becoming stronger, she only deteriorated. It was sort of like we were mirror images of each other, my body physically reflecting the state of her mind—trapped and broken, hurting, angry. I used to feel bad, when I was younger, that I was requiring so much of my mother in order to live, and as a result forcing her to sacrifice her entirety. I remember when she used to read to me, not any books from the library, but stories she'd written just to entertain and please me. We would go on walks, hang out together, regardless of the fact that I could say and do nothing.

Yeah, I used to love my mom. But that was before she stopped loving me.

The faucet in the bathroom was turned on, and I heard Mom brushing her teeth and spitting into the sink, then heard the flick of the light switch, followed by her drag-shuffle back down the hall; however, she didn't go to her room. Instead, she stopped in front of mine, pausing as though deciding whether or not to check on the vegetable—me. Must've felt guilty, because she did, opening my door and entering very silently, no longer dragging her feet, but instead she walked as though she was trying not to make any noise. From the corner of my eye, I could see her stop beside me, her raggedy pajama shirt only barely showing off the shorts she'd been wearing since I was a baby. Her eyes were sunken, the bags under them puffy and dark; to be honest, she looked like she'd been crying, and had it not been a nightly occurrence, I would've felt bad (I still did, somewhere inside me, but it'd long since frozen over). "You're in bed," She said, her voice hoarse. "I guess it is Thursday."

Silence. She didn't move and neither did I, only looking at her out of the corner of my eyes as I stared up at the ceiling, making shapes out of the popcorn drywall. After a few seconds, she sat beside me, then gently pushed me aside, enough to give her room to lay down. Been a while since she did this.

More silence. It was at this point, when I could bare it no longer and finally decided to look at her, that I noticed she was holding a syringe. The fluid inside was clear, there was no label, nor was there a needle—it was just the syringe. I had absolutely no idea what it was, but it gave me a bad, bad feeling, a pit beginning to eat its way through my stomach. "When I was pregnant with you, I had all these ideas about what you'd be like," Her dark hair, the same shade as mine, hanged halfway in her face, the rest splayed over my pillow to become one with mine, indistinguishable as the expression that clouded her face. "I wondered what you'd sound like, how you'd cry, what songs you'd sing to. I thought, 'Will she be a happy baby? Fussy?' I thought maybe you'd be like me, always hungry and always smiling."

She rolled slightly over to set the syringe on my nightstand, then turned back to face me entirely; there was an emptiness there, in her hazel eyes, a countenance I couldn't even begin to decipher. What was she talking about? "Sometimes I wonder if what happened to you was my punishment. Then I think that maybe it was a gift, or fate, or the universe giving me someone to help ease my fucking agony."

I stared at her, but she wasn't looking at me anymore—her eyes were pointed down at her hands, which were entangled in her shirt. "You were never supposed to happen. I never wanted kids, but Simon, he… He wanted them bad enough that he was willing to force me. So he did."

Forced..?

It was starting to make sense, what she was talking about, but I didn't even get a chance to process it, because as soon as she'd finished her sentence, she sat up on one arm to stare down at me, her other arm coming around to rest on my chest, her hand flat to my sternum. My mom had always been thin, but with her addiction issues, she'd only waned that much more; it was obvious in how the veins of her hands stood out like ridges and valleys over the top—had I been able to, I would've sneered. "And then he left me. He gave me the burdening debt of a child, one that he wanted so badly, and left me."

She was starting to cry, but that only lasted for about thirty seconds, forcing her face to be neutral once more. "I wanted to be strong for you. I wanted to be the mother you deserved, but there's something wrong with me that I've dealt with for a long time, and I… I can't deal with it anymore." She cradled my face in her hands, and I could feel them shivering. In her eyes, there was… something, which I had never seen before, swimming in the amalgamation of colours that her irises were comprised of. A weakness—no, it wasn't weakness. It was defeat. Like she'd given up.

Everything was clicking together now; this whole time, when I thought she'd hated me, was drinking and abusing my painkillers to get away from me, but she'd really just been running from herself. Wait, the syringe; I wanted to look over at it, I wanted to tell her no, please don't do it, but all I could do was watch her, and wait.

She raised her hand, reached, and took up the syringe with ginger movements, holding it between us so that we could both see it. "Your morphine," She said, her trembling fingers only causing it to wobble even more, but still didn't spill a drop. By this point, she was no longer crying, but instead, almost seemed to be completely numb; there were still tear stains running down her cheeks, still snot running in a thin line down from her nostrils, but her eyes held no tears. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I wanted to hold her, like she'd hold me when the reality of the world set in at night, to cradle her head on my lap and sing to her just as she'd done with me—she needed to know that I loved her. I had been so hard on her, and the knowledge of this ate at my insides, even if she had no inkling of an idea as to what I truly thought. But perhaps she didn't need to. Guilt is a funny thing like that.

I could only lie there as my mom got up from the bed and headed over to the closet that held all my medical equipment, taking out a needle and tourniquet, fastening the needle to the syringe before setting it down and tying the tourniquet around her right arm, just above her elbow.

She may not have been crying anymore, but I was, I could feel it; big, fat tears ran down the sides of my face, my entire body coming alive with phantom trembles of anguish that were so strong, so potent, that I could almost see myself getting up from the bed and breaking that syringe before wrapping her in a hug and apologizing over and over. I'm sorry you lost yourself because of me. I'm sorry you didn't get to have the life you wanted. I'm sorry for being disabled. I'm sorry Mom. Please don't leave me alone.

Of course, she couldn't hear me, but then I didn't expect her to. She wasn't looking at me, and it was almost ironic—even now, when she's about to leave the waking world forever, she still couldn't find it in herself to do it.

Mom injected the morphine. She didn't say goodbye, in fact she didn't speak to me again after she did it; instead, she sat down on the floor next to my bed, rested her head back against it, and closed her eyes.

There was an anger inside me that grew ever stronger as time ticked by, eating away at the rest of my soul with every shuddered breath that escaped her now almost completely limp body. I may have never known a normal life since I was born, but I had been happy with the life we had lived—it was familiar, comfortable, perfectly fine. Mental illness is a monster, I know, I have to deal with it all on my own since I can't talk, but my mom had every opportunity to deal with this. She could walk for Christ's sake, but instead she chose to neglect me, neglect herself, and now, was essentially committing a murder-suicide since I had absolutely no one that was going to check on me for another two days. What the hell was she thinking?

God, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry and scream and pound on the walls, I wanted to beat my mom to a pulp and demand to know why the fuck she was doing this to me. Wasn't my situation bad enough? Hadn't you stopped to think about what would happen to me? How could you be so selfish?

I watched a documentary about white torture a couple months ago.

It's considered one of the worst forms of torture, since it completely deprives your mind and body of all stimuli, essentially making you go insane. Sometimes I feel that that's what it's like to be completely paralyzed; you're trapped in the white room of your mind, with nowhere to run from the thoughts that haunt you. I wonder though, how a normal person would feel if they were placed in my body. Would they go crazy? What makes me so different from those subjected to white torture outside of their own free will?

Perhaps I was the crazy one all along. Or maybe I just got used to the monotonous shape that my daily life had formed into, both disgusted and comforted by the fact that I truly had nothing to look forward to; that wasn't always 100% true, but having no expectations afforded me the ability to be excited about something every once in a while. And now my mother has taken that from me, just like the way she took it when I was born, how everyone took it all from me, leaving me with the blood in my hands and the blame weighing heavy on my head.

Everyone else gets to take—except me. I have to give and give and give forever. When is it going to be my turn?

There were so many things I wanted to do, yeah, but I couldn't do any of them. I could do nothing but lie there with my eyes rolling back up to stare at the popcorn ceiling, with my mom's dead body beside me; I shouldn't fall asleep, I knew that, especially when I didn't have my CPAP in, but it wasn't like I could exactly keep myself from doing it. What else did I have to live for, truly? The burning in my chest ached with sharper teeth at that thought, milking more tears from my eyes and anger from the back of my mind. Fuck, I wish Tonya was here.

But she wasn't. I was alone, like always, and just as I had been born, I was going to die that way. Nobody to give a fuck. Nobody to comfort me.

The light faded from the corners of my vision, then disappeared.

#short story #my works

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tartrazeen · 11 months

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I added this to my other post about Angus probably having his own magic, but since there's so little content on here about Mystic Knights of Tir Na Nog, I might as well make it its own post. :) Don't wanna bury it in a reblog.

So to pick up from what I was saying about Angus probably having magic and Cathbad knowing about it, part of my evidence comes from Cathbad putting so much emphasis on him being a thief. And - yes, he is one, but Cathbad takes it like it's a personal slight. Like "You aren't living up to your full potential," building off that time when Angus even admits that Cathbad doesn't think much of him.

There are so many episodes where he refers to Angus as 'a common thief' or 'a petty thief'. It's the emphasis on the adjective - like, "Being a thief is one thing, but being a common or petty one is supposed to be beneath you." Torc says it once too, but it's in that fully disparaging way 'cause Enemy™ - so it's totally different from when Cathbad goes on to get pissed at one point that Angus is "running around like the village thief." There's a sense of disappointment from Cathbad that's even highlighed by that little note for when Angus tries to steal the bravery powder.

So I am in love with the idea of it all being because Angus is magic, knows some magic, or is trying to learn more magic from Cathbad (and probably did!)... just to use it to steal shit. Completely squandering the 'true' talent Cathbad thinks Angus should have.

Like - when that bratty little prince showed up and showed Angus how to put his hand through stone, that might as well have been screaming "JACKPOT." Cathbad mocking who he thinks is Angus (but is really Midar) for getting shrunk and being stuck that way? It's definitely 'cause he assumed Angus only did it to sneak in somewhere. The extra-tickled amusement from Cathbad in the scene could've come from how he was at least impressed Angus had learned enough to even be stuck that way.

It's also probably why Cathbad looked willing to say Angus was innocent during that trial, since despite the evidence and an obvious reputation, it was too much like common theft for him to fully believe Angus could stoop so low.

I feel like the stakes were higher than 'just' jail that time. It seemed to putting their relationship directly on the line, and as happy as everyone was to find the real thief, Cathbad must've been the most relieved person in the room. A guilty verdict would've shattered something between them that I don't tooootally think they even realized existed to shatter ('cause while I'm all here for "I Have Two Sons Actually 😌" Cathbad, I'm delighted by the idea that Cathbad has no goddamn idea what to really do with kids and has never wanted to admit why he puts up with this one, eVeN iF Angus happens to be very damn smart. And Angus sure as shit doesn't think Cathbad likes him, beyond occasionally being able to talk the druid into doing Angus a favour now and then.) For Cathbad to casually go like, "Oh wow I guess we'll never know if I thought you were guilty" after that is the biggest fuckin' tell for "I was praying you weren't, you would've broken my heart :'(" there is.

So yeah, Angus wastes his life picking pockets, probably a little more for fun than any honest need at this point, but Cathbad seems to think (mostly despite himself) that there's something in there destined for more. They've just gotta... kinda... get to it somehow. :/ And every time they don't, Cathbad just sees Angus slipping further away.

🤣 No wonder he shuts Angus down so hard near the end when he asks about creating illusionary walls. Think of how much Angus could take if he could also conjure walls as cover.

I'm happy enough with where the show ended, but I'd like to think that in a future episode, there would've been one with Cathbad and Angus where it was all about that. Like Cathbad would finally snap over Angus throwing his potential away to just steal again, get caught again, go to jail again. He could actually try to cut Angus off or force Angus (somehow) to give the thievery up. Maybe it starts by trying to reason with him, then with (poorly) attempting to have a heart-to-heart, and then in a fit of anger and frustration, almost definitely because Angus steals some important potion to play around with it, actually casting some sort of spell that's supposed to 'fix' the problem of stealing. And it works! Angus suddenly becomes very well-behaved and polite.

But it also saps Angus' motivation and creativity. He has to be told what to do every step of the way, because he can't even conceive of doing something out of order anymore. He loses his ability to fight effectively, maybe even loses the ability to summon his armour (because the part of him that earned it is gone), and he stops going anywhere at all because he doesn't 'technically' belong anywhere. He doesn't have his own hut, he's not royal, he's presumably an orphan, and Cathbad doesn't ever permit him to be around. And he just gets quieter and more miserable until Cathbad agrees to reverse the spell, but the damage is done: the message was sent when it came to using magic to 'cure' him.

(Yes, this could fit into 22 minutes. The pacing of that show's quick, and going from 'Angus is in jail again' to 'We have to do something about Angus' to 'Well, that's just how Angus is, Cathbad' to 'Fine, I'll do something about Angus myself' to 'bad attempt to talk' to 'Angus steal more shit anyway' to 'Magic anti-steal' to 'Angus is sad' is like... six scenes.)

Anyway, I'd want it to end with Cathbad actually doing the heart-to-heart properly. He apologizes for going so far to control Angus like that, and then moves right into "But I can't have you running around as a thief!" And it'd be over to Angus to basically say, "It's all I'm good for around here," which - hopefully - would snap a bit of shit into focus for Cathbad. With all of the insults and teasing and unsolicited lessons, Angus really has been left with the idea that being a thief all he is. Is it a good thing to be a thief? Maybe not, but Cathbad's always declared him as one, so Angus is pretty confident in that identity. And it's challenging and fun, and when it wasn't fun, it was necessary - for him and Rohan both (hint hint starving orphans).

Because I'd like that to set the stage for Cathbad to finally list some positives about him: Angus is smart, and he has a talent for seeing opportunities no one else can. He wishes it was more respectable, but the fact that Angus earned his mystic armour should've been proof enough that he was worthy. It wasn't like he stole that armour, after all. And part of his ability to see things makes him uniquely talented at combining magic powders. Something happens when he does. It's rarely ever less than chaotic, but it's always something, and that's a sign that there's magic in him that simply needs to be focused properly. (And Angus sees there's that 'focused'/'controlled' thing again 🙄 - so Cathbad's going to have assure them both this has nothing to do with casting another spell on Angus. I want him to have to earn back a little of Angus' trust for once).

It wouldn't go on and on for hours, but eventually Cathbad would say that if it's a challenge Angus is looking for, then perhaps it's time to have a proper lesson in magic. It might be even be overdue. And as a show of goodwill, Cathbad agrees to show Angus what that potion he stole even does. He goes to get it. Just to find...

... nothing. 🫠

And Angus looking like 😬

And Cathbad going like, "... okay. That's... We'll have to make another one then, won't we?" Really, really trying here. Then saying he needs certain ingredients and has to find them in the slow mess that his inventory's become without Rohan to (badly lmao) tend to them.

And Angus is like, "oh I know where everything is :) here here here here and here :)"

And Cathbad's actually really impressed by this, because he's realizing Angus has always been an oddly precise thief when he goes through Cathbad's stuff - because he's stolen so much of it that he has an even better inventory in his head than Cathbad does.

But then Cathbad says, "Now we just need one last ingredient. I know I had some yesterday."

And Angus is like 😬

And Cathbad just picks up his herb basket and says, "At least you're aren't simply a common thief" (or something like that, whatever the kiddies would understand :P)

From there, I'd want episodes to reference Angus getting some lessons from Cathbad. He's like a weirdly unofficial apprentice - actually more like an unofficial student - and we start having him be the one to explain magic stuff that the knights run into rather than Rohan as much. It'd be a great set up for another Rohan versus Angus fight, where Rohan starts to feel like he's being replaced (and maybe ungratefully throws a lot of shit into Angus' face that cuts deep). I hope that'd end with blah-blah-blah the three of them are a family pretty much, everyone makes up, Rohan feels secure in his place again and Angus gets some actual approval from Rohan about anything for once lmao

Importantly, it'd set the stage for Angus to be practicing magic, and then very suddenly fucking revealing he's got his own. Or if it's not a reveal to him, it's a reveal to the others, because he's never been able to use it for things that aren't related to theft and he's never been consistent enough or experienced enough to want to test it in an actual battle. But the fact that he's learning from Cathbad at all would be the foundation of him being his own full-fledged magic user on the show.

As a bard. :3

A bard who knows a lot of Druid spells. :3

'cause that's my damn head canon and I'll be as self-indulgent as I pleeeeaaaaassseeeeeeeee

(also keeping a Magic-Using Angus away from Maeve is important, but imagining Nimaine finding out about it?! Maeve would force a wedge between Angus and Rohan, but Nimaine would drive it between Angus and Cathbad. Both of them, though, I can see trying to trick Angus into being afraid of himself or what others think, not really being lured in by being promised more power. That's more of a Rohan plot 😅)

But I'd also love to see some sort of treasure-hunting episode. Imagine an ancient temple or ghostly cave that Cathbad needs something from or gets trapped in. The only one with the right mix of skill, magic and experience - more than even Cathbad's as a druid - is Angus, who explicitly knows how to sneak around and disable the various traps that these kinds of places have. As in, he's been to other places just like this all over Ireland to swipe shit. Very Tomb Raider, basically. 💖 And being able to get into those places to find the hidden secrets of magic thought to have been lost generations ago is something that could instantly bring the two of them closer together.

:( and since I heard that Vincent Walsh supposedly wasn't gonna come back for a second season (THAT'S WHY I'M HAPPY IT ENDED WHERE DID, SORRY, I'M SELFISH, HE NEEDED TO BE THERE), it would've been a great handwave te explain his abscence.

'Cause they were not gonna recast him 😤 My eight-year-old self would've fuckin' refused.

#mystic knights of tir na nog #my stuff #good job tartra

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mermaidsirennikita · 3 months

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I am sorry to bother about you that, I am probably asking because I don’t know enough about the BRF, but in your post about Kate you more or less said (sorry if I misinterpreted) that William would have cheated on his wife no matter what and probably did before they married (and not in a “this people have known each other for a long time and sometimes weren’t together and therefore dated other people” kind of way). Why do you say that?

Ah, sorry, I must not have been clear (I've grown up on royal family goss so sometimes I think I make leaps in my explanations that normal people wouldn't pick up on lol).

I meant more that it's extremely likely Kate would've known that William would continue to cheat once they were married, because he most likely (according to rumors) (and interesting pap pics from waaay back in the day) slept around while they were together before they married.

Which like. Isn't surprising. Kate and William got together pretty young, and aside from a short break not long before they got engaged, stayed together from that point on (publicly). William was a good-looking guy back in the day; he was young; and essentially every woman in his vague age range and many a lot older than him wanted to sleep with him. It was like, a competition to get in his pants, either for bragging rights or for the potential chance of being queen one day. I'd honestly kind of be shocked if he DIDN'T sleep around in all that time.

I mean, I'd hope that she got (and continued to get) hers, too. But she would obviously be held to a different standard by some.

And if I'm being super real, in that cultural environment, it was and is very much expected for men cheat on their wives. And the higher up the man, the more acceptable the cheating. Charles fully expected to just be able to cart his mistress around while keeping the picture-perfect wife in place. It was more of a shock that Diana wasn't okay with it. Plus, a lot of the thought process behind Diana not being okay with the horrible way in which she was treated was that if she'd just been better prepared by the system (and not been like, a teenager when Charles got with her) she would have accepted it better and been content. Which. WILD to assume.

But that's probably one reason (along with Wills's general reluctance) why Kate didn't get a ring until she spent essentially her entire 20s dating William. It was seen as the opposite of how they handled Diana. They were the same age (she's actually a tiny bit older). They dated for a long time, got to know each other. She had her own "life", her own "career". (When, let us be super real, Kate's adult life was basically preparing for the next role.) She had to time to "prepare".

They tried to swing a similar narrative when everything fell apart with Harry and Meghan--he didn't prepare her! She didn't learn ahead of time! That's why it was so bad!

While I'll totally acknowledge that Charles (and everyone else) failed to prepare Diana, and in turn Harry (and everyone else) failed to prepare Meghan, it's still like. You know. You could also just be nice to people once they marry in and help them transition then.

BUT! Anyway. Kate's "prep" would've likely clued her in even more as to the reality of the life, so I just find it hard to believe that William doing something he'd probably BEEN doing (cheating) just drove her to split like some people think. I mean, again, I know a lot of people saying these things are new to this, but people In the Know became aware of Rose yeeeears ago. I've known about SOME mistress rumors for a long time, and I think I saw the mistress identified as Rose in 2018/2019. Before Meghan and Harry left for sure.

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bladeofthestars · 2 years

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#i think i would be happier in a polyamory??#but also I'm a depressed fuck and feel like i barely get by in my monogamous relationship as it is #also also don't think my partner would be down #ugh just continual jealousy at seeing irl polyamory and definitely have been roleplaying polyamory in games #and am sometimes upset if a game doesn't have an option for polyamory #have realized ot3s aren't uncommon for me #have thought way too hard about how life would've been different if I'd been able to date my two best friends from middle and high school #have been struggling with a low libido on top of everything else #finally getting medically treated for HS which had been tanking my self esteem for years and no clue if it'll work but this medicine #is an absolute bitch and makes me very nauseous and also my skin is going through a purge i think #i never meet new people and wouldn't want to try to start something like that with someone i wasn't already well acquainted with but don't #think anyone i already know would be a good fit even if a good deal of them weren't already paired off together #and again my partner #he seemed open to the idea of doing sexy stuff with a third person at some point at the beginning of our relationship but tapered off #my body can't handle some of the stuff *he* wants to do bc chronic pain so he feels like I've reneged on things he thought were a give #we live in a city with like sex clubs and stuff now but covid #and also i think i might well and truly be demisexual tho I'd be willing to at least give it a try if we did ever go to something like that #but ALSO his brother lives in town and goes to the local clubs and I REALLY don't want to cross paths with him while out doing that #have definitely been having polyam feelings for a long ass time but haven't wanted to come to terms with it #i don't want children but i do want a full house but it doesn't necessarily have to be romantic I'd be happy living with friends too #without it being any kind of sex thing #ugh hoarder urge i guess lmao #i don't know wtf i want but i do know whatever it is it isn't in my grasp rn #should probably get a job before i even think about extra dates lmao #gotta keep my insurance for a few months tho so i can see this shit through

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astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

warnings: brief and indirect mentions of abuse/trauma

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

[A/N:] this is a repost of chapter 1 because my masterlist is being fucky

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miss-smutty · 3 years

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The Destructive Secret

Chapter 4

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter devastation. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Word count- 2,211

Warnings- Smut, swearing, angst, cheating

18+ Only!!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 29th June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

>The Destructive Secret Masterlist<

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, silence so acute you could hear a pin drop. Liam waiting for an answer, Chris looking at his feet and you looking visibly anxious. Chris had drank way too much and now he was about to let all of your secrets loose. This isn't the way you want Liam to find out, surely Chris wouldn't be so cruel.

"I suppose you're not gonna tell me who it is?"

"Not just yet, see how we go." He looked at you, if he so much as even looked slightly smug you would have slapped him right across his face. Instead you could see the hurt in his eyes, tears welling in the corners. You're both faced with an impossible dilemma, Chris wants you all to himself but doesn't want to lose his brother in the process and you want it all over and done with but don't want to hurt Liam. The latter of both is inevitable but you would take all the blame just so Chris didn't have to lose his brother, given the choice you would lose them both just so that didn't happen.

"Well on that note, I need to go to bed. I've gotta be up early in the morning." You avoid Chris' gaze, you're angry with him but you don't want to cause him more pain.

"Yeah me too. I better get going. Thank you for dinner Y/N, it was lovely."

You risk a short glance at him, you're eyes softening when they meet. The moment broken when Liam speaks, reminding you where you are and who you're with right at this moment in time.

"Are you for real? You're really going to drop a bombshell like that and then leave? Fuck man." Liam runs his hand through his hair, letting air out of his cheeks exasperatedly.

"Sorry bro, I'll save the excitement for another night. I've said too much already." Chris apologises with his eyes as he passes you, his hands twitching by his side's with the need to touch you.

******************

The next morning when you wake, your heart sinks knowing all the turmoil you're going to have to go through just to make it to the hotel without being spotted. All the messing about and hiding you have to do, checking in under a false name at different times. Making sure nobody follows you to the hotel and especially no one follows Chris. Getting caught checking into the same hotel would be dreadful, it wouldn't take a genius for the press to put two and two together, they wouldn't even care if it was true or not as long as they sold copies.

"Right babe, I'm ready to go." You pull your suitcase towards the door, stopping to wrap your arms around Liam.

"Have a good time, I'll see you soon." Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting your feet from the ground in a squeezy hug. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, bye babe."

"Bye. Love you. Let me know when you get checked in." He kisses you goodbye before watching you leave.

"Will do, Love you." You say over your shoulder, climbing into your silver, Audi convertible.

This is the part you hate the most, the part that made you question whether it was all worth it. It was, of course or you wouldn't be doing it, you wouldn't put yourself through having to pretend to be somebody else and praying your not caught by anyone. It only takes one person to notice you and Chris in the same hotel and it's over. You imagine having an affair is hard work whatever your circumstances but when your boyfriend and your lover are as famous as they are it becomes impossible. It's terrifying.

You spent the car journey constantly checking your mirrors and making sure you weren't being followed. A huge sunhat and even bigger sunglasses covering your face as your heart beated faster than you thought was possible. A couple of laps around the hotel, making doubly sure you weren't being followed before you finally pulled into the carpark.

You had to constantly think, you couldn't let your guard drop for even a moment and it was exhausting. You were ready for it to be over and done with now, this just isn't fun anymore. Maybe you could run away together and start a new life somewhere else. Which one would you pick though? Who are you ready to give up? Would there even be an option to choose? Would Liam even be willing to forgive you if he knew you were sleeping with his brother? In love with his brother.

Your heart beating out of your chest, your fight or flight well and truly kicking in now as you walk up to the front desk. If there's any recognition in the receptionists eyes you're ready to turn right around and leave. The girl behind the desk, with long blonde hair has her eyes on the computer In front of her, thankfully not paying you much attention as you stand and wait for her to finish.

"Hi I'd like to book a room for two nights please." You stutter nervously, subconsciously checking over your shoulder while you spoke.

"Of course, is it just for yourself?"

"Yes please, I'm just here for a work conference. I'd like a double bed if possible though, I haven't been able to sleep in a single since I was young." You giggle nervously, embarrassed that you'd told her information she isn't even slightly interested in.

"No problem, I'll see what I have for you." Her eyes barely left her computer as she spoke, she definitely didn't recognise you. The tension in your muscles relaxed a little as your eyes scanned the lobby.

"What name is it please?" She asked, one of the moments you'd been dreading. You hate lying but luckily you'd already come up with the fake name you were using, one you'd already used many times before in the exact same situation. It never gets any easier.

"Jessica Crawley." The names tumbled from your lips, names that had absolutely no meaning to you.

"Room 101, floor 5. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No thank you, that's great." The overwhelming feeling of relief at completing step one without any problems, rushes over you. Adrenaline spiking, making your legs feel like jelly.

"You're welcome, enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions." The girl says, smiling sweetly at you before going back to her work.

The elevator seemed to take forever to make its way down to you, your feet shuffling as you watched the numbers above the door, counting down. The overwhelming need to get to privacy and away from the many prying eyes of the people in the lobby was severe. Most were business men and women, that were so consumed in themselves they weren't paying special attention to anyone around them. There were also young couples, making their way through the lobby, probably on their way for lunch but the people that worried you the most were the random loners sat in the armchairs scattered around the lobby. They'd chosen the perfect place to watch, some pretending to read newspapers while their eyes discreetly scanned over the top.

They were much more inquisitive, much like yourself they paid more attention to the people around them. People watchers you liked to call them, these are the sorts of people that make you nervous. They see everything, noticing any minor details, you'd spent a lifetime perfecting 'people watching' which is how you knew to be wary. You could pretty much judge a person's personality just by watching them for a couple of minutes. If anyone was to spot you it would be one of these people. You felt thankful you weren't Chris, there is absolutely no way he was going to make it to the elevator without being seen at least once.

*******************

Chris didn't feel quite as nervous as you, this was a every day occurance in his life, avoiding paparazzi was near impossible for him. As long as you weren't seen going in to the hotel then it wouldn't matter about him being seen. Still, he'd worn his baseball cap and sunglasses to at least try and hide his identity. He wasn't nervous about being seen but more about having to face you after his fuck up last night. Now that thought was way more intimidating to him.

Casually strolling into the hotel, he tried to ignore the whispers of the people around him. People questioning if it was really him, young girls barely out of high school giggling at the sight of him. Chris quietly prayed that he would make it up to the room without anyone asking for a photo, not that he usually minded but today all he wanted was to spend every possible minute with you as he could.

The receptionist tried to make a fuss when his identity was confirmed during check in. The pale skin of the same blonde girl who'd checked you in, had turned a rather bright shade of red when she heard Chris' sexy Australian accent. You wouldn't blame her, it still makes you swoon whenever you heard him speak.

"I'm fine honestly, I don't want any special treatment. Actually if I could get away with going completely unnoticed during my stay, I will speak to your boss myself and tell them how accomodating you'd been."

"Oh wow, really? Thank you so much Mr Hemsworth. I will make sure nobody bothers you and if you need anything at all just give me a call, I'll make sure you won't have to leave your room for anything." Chris smiled, pretending not to notice how she seemed to be flirting with him, badly. Tossing her hair over shoulder as she insinuated not so subtly for him to let her know if he wanted any 'special' treatment. Again, you don't blame the girl, infact you would've commended her confidence.

She handed over the keys to the penthouse, watching bright eyed as he walked to the elevator, pulling out his phone as he stepped straight in.

"Hi babe, I've booked the penthouse suite, meet me up there?" Smiling a tight lipped smile at the girl behind the desk, who was still watching him intently as the elevator doors closed.

"Ok, it isn't very inconspicuous staying in the penthouse is it?" You shouldn't be surprised, he does it everytime. You remember the first time you ever saw a penthouse and how amazed you were that it was actually bigger than your own home at the time. That was a memory you shared with Liam, all of your first times had been with Liam, the thought made your heart sink.

"I mean they knew who I was as soon as I walked in, I think it would look more suspicious if I didn't stay in a suite." Chris answered, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I suppose that's true, I'll be up soon." You could hear the sadness in your voice, something you had to snap out of before meeting Chris.

"Good because I can't wait to get my hands on you."

Sinking back onto the spongey mattress of your bed, tiredness washing over you already. The mental exhaustion of constantly having to play games and be on your guard at all times, catching up to you as you're finally alone.

Maybe that's what you need afterall, a chance to be alone to gather your thoughts, to workout your own needs and wants without spreading your attention between the two brothers.

You make a mental list of the pros and cons of both of them knowing deep down if Liam were the one for you, you'd have never have looked twice at Chris. They were so similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others.

Liam was the sweetest man you knew, so gentle and caring, attentive to your every whim and being so young when you first got together he was everything you were looking for.

Now being a woman that has gone through so much trauma in her life that had tainted your soul, darkened it with a lust for more.

Then Chris came along, he was still sweet and caring but less attentive to your needs unless it was in the bedroom. He was cheeky and funny, drop dead gorgeous and oozing manliness effortlessly. He was fire and passion. He was more.

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined Chris only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #smut #x reader #x you #liam hemsworth

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