#samhlaiocht

@samhlaiocht in response to Frank being a dick

      His brow dropped into a furrow, eyes watching Mycroft with an expression mixed somewhere between sadness and confusion. "I disagree. I think it's hard to let people in, yes - and sometimes you'll get hurt. But then I think when you let the right person in, then it all becomes worth it." His shoulders lifted into a shrug. "I mean, I don't know much about you or what you've been through but speaking from my own experiences - I didn't want to let anybody in after my divorce. Cause I was afraid of getting hurt again. But then the loneliness affected me far more than the fear. So -" His hands dropped to his pockets. "I don't know. I know you're an intelligent man and my opinion means squat all to you but just - Don't close yourself off, I guess."

“The problem, Detective Inspector,” Mycroft began to reply, as formal as ever, “is that I am sure you felt that your wife was the right person too.”

She clearly wasn’t, though. The cheating was enough to tell Mycroft that, and the divorce was evidence that Lestrade realised it too. Considering how common similar outcomes to relationships were nowadays, how was he ever supposed to be confident that somebody was ‘worth it’?

Besides, even if he could be confident, heartbreak was inevitable. Eventually, whether on purpose or not, something always happened.

a meme / for @samhlaiocht + severin moran

"James Bond wore fancy suits all the time, you fucking bet he dealt with this shit."

It was the fourth suit that she had forced her soon-to-be brother-in-law. Despite promising it would take less than an hour, they had already been here for two.

Celia sits crossed-legged on the silk-lined fainting couch, sipping her third glass of champagne. Dressing other people comes in a close second to dressing herself. She gets all the enjoyment of new shiny things without having to get half-naked in a little room with a curtain. Actually, to be fair, most of the shops she buys from do have proper dressing rooms. "Anway, you said you were up for spending some time together. What happened to our sibling bonding time?" She gins, cheekily.

   It hadn’t exactly been a sophisticated greeting – ‘why aren’t you dead?’ really? – but the figure on the ground is apparently too preoccupied to care. He pushes himself to his elbows, then his feet, nowhere near as injured as any normal human should be (but then, the world is home to a lot more super, meta, enhanced humans than it used to be).

   Eyes drop to the vibranium arm that the stranger stretches out between them, catching sight of it only a second later than his mutation. Ferrokinesis brushes over the metal, feeling each joint return to its proper place, admiring its construction.

If Margaret was under the impression that Steve was stubborn then she clearly could see that trait had been drilled into him from a young Bucky, apparently. Because the man was insistent beyond measure.

"It's a miracle that I'm here." There was still a lot of adjusting to do on her part, but the benefits of being a spy meant that she was able to adjust to her surroundings fairly quickly. In her short time here she had learned a lot, enough to get by. Thanks to Steve, the rest of the Avengers and now Bucky. "We just got you back Barnes" She points out, "It's a miracle they were able to help you in Wakanda, but I don't think he can take much more." She pointed out. If she couldn't convince him, she wasn't beyond putting him down for a few hours. "He can find another woman if he wishes, he cannot find about James." She points out, "You represent a lot more to him than I do Bucky" It's a plead of sorts, because she doesn't want to get physical with him, but she was already assessing what she could use close by.