#I love that both of the characters are in uncomfortable unforgiveable situations to one another and that their perspectives are making them

[wishingprince]

Me: I’m gonna reread this old favorite

Actually me: picks up a new series, gets a new book for bday tears into them

[kishimotomasashi]

sasuke + 8 (or 18 if you'd rather talk about something you like!)

Send a character + one or more of these questions

It's fine, I can do both!

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

It's deeply uncomfortable and gives me the worst sense of secondhand embarrassment ever when certain Sasuke stans take the Naruto political discourse too far and start bringing in real-life instances of systematic oppression into it; especially if it's systematic oppression they aren't even affected by themselves. I'll never say that analyzing Naruto for its political elements is unnecessary given that they're literally the driving force of the plot, but a lot of you could stand to learn to have some tact.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I wouldn't say I "admire" this relationship, but Sasuke's relationship with Itachi makes me the most insane out of all the relationships in Naruto. I know Tumblr talks about "doomed" relationships a bit too much, but I really don't have any other way to describe that kind of fictional dynamic that gets to me the most affectively. I love bittersweet and tragic endings, relationships in which both parties care for each other so much but there's far too much damage for it all to end in anything but ruin, or at least keep them trapped in a situation where they'll always be unhappy. It's that "the love is/was there and it matters but it isn't enough" sort of tension, that makes even the good moments feel heartwrenching. When it comes to Naruto, Itachi and Sasuke do that best for me, especially on Sasuke's side, in which Itachi has hurt him in the most unforgivable ways and yet in the end he still wants to love him, and he still wants to forgive him, because Itachi is just that much of an important figure in his life. It makes me so ill in all the best ways.

[pysoch]

More medic projection writing I am a raging inferno and winter is my fuel

~========~

I am unhappy.

There is a calendar above my door with a small red 'x', still reeking of alcoholic scent and prone to smearing. It lays drying along the number reading twelve. Above it is an ordeal of characters illustrated in a ridiculous situation with the year, 1958, off by five years. I know this because it is not Thursday as that twelve reads. Alas, I made do with the poor supplies I was given. It serves as a good distraction above my tattered cot that ought to have been replaced many seasons ago. In fact, it's the only thing I can keep my eyes on at this time of night.

I hear others through the thin wood walls throwing around a light atmosphere with one another. I'm well aware it is self sabotage to not lift myself up and throw myself in the midst of them and instead sit in a dark, dirty closet only able to fit myself if I scrunch up my knees just enough to where it's uncomfortable. Through the thin and cobweb-lined window I can see the outside brings fresh snow that will cover each bullet fired today and melt in spring to unearth them. Nature had a cycle like I do, which was a comforting tune to fade into. Both of us hide the ugly of our fall under layers of white. Fortunately, I'm not as easy to melt. It took very few times before I had taught himself comrades were temporary and family was burden. The one time I had gotten myself wrapped up in such things as relationships on this team ended in a horrific disaster of my mentality switching between euphoric pages and flipping to chapters of social dysphoria with internal loneliness. No matter how much I threw himself at opportunities to break down this little cage I fashioned myself in, there was no interception. I had given up once and for all.

Even doves brought no companionship anymore. A dear, tender place in my heart is reserved for those gorgeous breathing treasures. Yet they cannot talk to me. They cannot comfort me. I cannot feel a loving wing wrap around my back and tell me I am loved. What a twisted little thing that is. I've imagined that exact scenario more than there are veins in my wrist and yet it disgusts me like no poison can. Even now, my nose scrunches in disdain at such a foolish thought as affection. I'd be a liar if I were not to mention how this was tailored, too. It's a vicious turn of desiring such companionship and touch then being a snarling savage at the first cautious reach of a hand.

Yes, an animal describes it quite well. I must not bring myself to that metaphor again. Each hint of wild thought such as freeing myself of mankind and running through earth under my bare skin is almost an escape in itself. I always drift to being like a wolf, ears pinned and eyes narrowed while my tail makes waves in the wind and my paws scratch the ground with callused flesh. Near the end of my travels a crack splits the sky and fires through my skull until I'm a panting, miserable beast on this cold and unforgiving soil as the men who struck the clouds come to catch their prize. What joy it is to be praised like that! A worthy creature for taxidermy, or surely study! Yet when they sling me over their shoulders and throw me in a pit of rotting foxes, I know that it was only a dream. Such a fantasy is better kept deep within me, yes, yes. So is that far buried desire for death.

It all wraps back to what I crave like a starving man. Importance. I could have medallion after medallion tacked on my wall with silver nails and I'd still long to be strung up instead. Not a pleasant thing to most but to me, oh, what a blissful thought. Autopsies are envied by my cold eyes and unable to be executed by my hands. I become lost in the idea of our roles being turned and my own corpse having fingers pressed into it at every angle, admiring that I used to be a beating soul who strained each function of my weary vessel until they all collapsed. My body could be severed into pieces unidentifiable by man, yet if one person were to pick up the piece and let a flash of a memory dart their mind, I'd find my death a significant victory.

Death is as fleeting as life and just as permanent. That's what is brought to me when I hear a thud against the wall and feel a faint vibration in my head followed by the freshly post-pubescent voice laughing beyond reach. My paws stop running along those leaves, and they pause to hear that crack. None occur. Only the drift of that calendar page flitting up and down is heard, and the twelve now solidified in ink. My ears are still perked for the fire to reign through my skull, but the more I sit and wait, the less likely are the gamesmen to see me or raise their instruments against my flesh. I turn around and trudge quietly through the path where I came. Perhaps tonight death is not my savior, but my study. That bullet doesn't quite have the lead loaded deep in the chamber. I am alive.

And I am unhappy.

~=======~

(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

[oh-three]

I am once again sorry for the mountain of questions but 1, 4, 9, 10, 19, 21, 33, 47 and 50 with the good old depressed horses (+ Trohr?)

What is your character's reaction to a minor inconvenience? Such as getting their jumper caught on a door handle?

Rak, Linaleh, & Loktof: would definitely be annoyed, minor cursing involved.

Vori: probably wouldn't care much.

Brak, Jurr, Tindri & Trohr: would be annoyed, but wouldn't show it.

What do they consider to be an unforgivable action? Why?

Everyone's pretty lenient on this one, mostly forgiving toward one another. Any real violence would be 100% unforgivable on most accounts, though, Loktof & Rakesh rivalry aside because that's literally them being them.

What is your character's trigger point? What makes them angry, sad or makes them go off?

Rak: it takes a lot for things to get to him (outwards, at least), and it really concerns the others and throws their mood off when things do get to him. It's like boiling water- things escalate and then he kinda just explodes. (Okay, I loved that metaphor- though, technically, it's a simile). As for what gets him there, it's usually something to do with the Council making bad decisions regarding the war.

Vori: the only thing that really phases her is when someone gets severely injured to the point where they're not really responding at all. And when it comes to something like that happening to Rak, she needs someone to comfort her. (I'm still trying to decide whether their dynamic is more of a siblings or best friends thing- there's a lot of both in it!)

Brakan: any major attack would definitely freak him out, something that challenges even the Guard's power. Or something as simple as a training exercise gone wrong. Those can get to him, too, sometimes.

Trohr: anything that reminds him too much of his experiences in the war throws him off, makes him shut down in fear of some of his memories. He gets better with it over time, of course, having the Guard surrounding him, but it's something that'll never leave him.

Loktof: may or may not be against clones, so I guess you can already imagine how he'll take to Knightfall. If he'd not been in the Guard, he'd have just up and left so as to stay away from the war and all of it.

Linaleh: kinda loses control of herself whenever someone is harmed (whether by one another or someone else- would possibly attack them if it was bad enough). This is especially true for the "children"- Trohr, Brak, and Vori- because of how young they are/seem. She has a very protective nature, probably would've made a great mother in another lifetime.

Tindri: she waves most things off, but she does have a serious side. She isn't one to hold grudges, and helps others when they are in trouble themselves- but not much phases her personally.

Jurr: he doesn't really get angry, but when he's saddened by something he becomes quiet and a little more antisocial. Someone usually grabs Cin to deal with him if it's too bad. When situations get out of control or something bad happens that's out of his hand, he acts as a mediator and hides his own emotional feelings over it until the moment has passed.

What kind of jokes make them laugh?

Rak: doesn't really laugh at jokes, but more at the others' misfortune if it's not too serious.

Vori: finds most things more funny than not, usually finds jokes in things herself that she never shares.

Brak: anything that makes one of the tougher team members uncomfortable makes him laugh. He definitely has the softest, quietest laugh of them all.

Trohr: haven't gotten that far yet, sorry! He has little sense of humor at this point.

Loktof: Rakesh and Tindri misfortune. And Linaleh, probably. These four are constantly at odds with one another, though Linaleh & Tindri have a truce. He doesn't really joke around much, A Hand In Refuge chapter two aside.

Linaleh: I have no idea if she's even capable of laughter at this point, she's way too serious.

Tindri: she finds humor in all things, especially things of darker nature. It's those darker ones that make her laugh.

Jurr: doesn't really indulge the morbid jokes, but the others always bring a smile to his face. He doesn't laugh often, having seen so much in his years of life.

What does your character consider to be their lowest point?

Rak: everything surrounding the Temple bombing and most of the year that follows. He rises back up only just before Order 66.

Vori: I imagine she was quite lonely without Rakesh during her years as a padawan and a knight, so probably those days.

Brak: it's coming up (eventually), that's for sure, so I can't go too deep since it's pretty big. But, basically, one of the events that happen a few days after the Temple bombing.

Trohr: the last battle he was involved in before being knighted and joining the Guard. I'd give details, but it's explained a bit in the upcoming chapter of A Hand In Refuge.

Loktof: watching the clones rush into the Temple and start gunning people down during Operation Knightfall.

Linaleh: the moment that protecting on of her own fails- also yet to happen, but it does.

Tindri: not quite sure, but something definitely happened to her to make her this sarcastic and chaotic

Jurr: the moment that he loses control of a situation and can't regain it.

What would be one item that they would hate to lose most?

Rak: at this point in time, his Guard mask. He likes to have one around at all times, because of the memories it holds of his makeshift family in Unit Arrel.

Vori: not an item, But- Rak. She would hate to lose Rak.

Brak: the Guard robes overall. They make him feel safe and are something he needs to keep his confidence up.

Trohr: definitely his lightsaber, after all that he's been through. He's seen so much that he can't go anywhere without one at his side.

Loktof: not really attached to any items, probably wouldn't care if he lost anything so long as it wasn't his lightsaber.

Linaleh: also her Guard mask. She's aware of the feelings of safety it inspires in others, and that makes her feel powerful in a good way.

Tindri: I can't really say that she's attached to anything either, is more of a "take what she can get while she can" kind of person- probably had a rough long-term mission in the past.

Jurr: the Guard outfit. It reminds him of his role and purpose, and inspires confidence in him. He likely had a lot of self-doubt in his youth, not unlike Brakan.

How do they act around people they don't know? Are they shy around strangers or dismissive of them?

Rak: will try to be hospitable (aloofly), but will turn dismissive should they offend him even the slightest.

Vori: embraces them like she's known them all her life (mentally, not like hugging every random person who visits- that'd be a bit extreme 😅).

Brak: definitely on the shy side, will only speak when addressed.

Trohr: similar to Brak, before he opens up, and then he's a more reserved version of Vori.

Loktof: dismissive, won't speak unless the other person says something stupid- and only to mock them.

Linaleh: it depends on the vibes they give her, but she'll usually end up pretty hospitable.

Tindri: dismissive, but more in an "I don't care" way than the "leave me alone" kind.

Jurr: treats everyone with respect, even if they make him fume inside.

What is your character's reaction when someone does something nice for them?

Rak & Loktof: would both be very confused, pause and make sure they heard things right.

Vori: this is the part where she hands out hugs.

Brak: a small smile and a polite "thanks". Would probably do something nice for them in return.

Trohr: smiles, gives thanks, makes sure they know it's appreciated, then tries to get to know them better.

Linaleh: skepticism, because she's usually the one being nice and not given the same. "....thanks?"

Tindri: assumes it's a prank, because most of them are usually in need of getting her back.

Jurr: kind smile, "thank you", asks them if they'd like to drink tea with him.

How does your sleep at night? Are they a heavy or light sleeper? Do they dream or have nightmares? Do they find it easy to sleep or are they more a night owl?

Rak: heavy sleeper when he deafens himself, light sleeper when he doesn't. Is awake more often than not because of his poor work choices, doesn't have many dreams or nightmares when he does sleep.

Vori: sleeps like a baby, probably has weird happy dreams, definitely more of a day person.

Brak: can go either way, depends on how the day went. He doesn't dream much, but he does sometimes have nightmares. He's also a day person, but can stay up late worrying about stuff.

Trohr: poor kid gets lots of nightmares, doesn't sleep well- is often up at odd hours because of it.

Loktof: no one knows if he dreams or not, but he's a heavy sleeper and snores. He can still get up and work at any hour, though, drowsiness rarely an issue for him.

Linaleh: hates being annoyed when she's sleeping, sometimes has nightmares about something happening to one of the "children", not a great or horrible sleeper.

Tindri: sleeps like a baby, still able to be active at any hour if required. Doesn't dream much.

Jurr: has nightmares, but never speaks of them and no one ever knows, as he wakes quietly. He's also in that mid-range of being a good sleeper and not being a good sleeper.

[ihaveafandom-problem554]

Unfinished Draft

Ok so I feel bad for not posting anything lately.. So I’m giving you something I had in my drafts for a while now that I don’t feel like finishing.

Note that this is old, unfinished and probably unedited...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Characters: Mother Y/n, Rui, spider older sister, Mother Y/n’s son BB(That’s his nickname), Mother Y/n’s Daughter Aiko.

Small background information: 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aww, Rui you’ll finally have some company while I’m gone” you say patting Rui’s head.

He wasn’t smiling like he usually would when you gave him affection. Instead he was frowning.

“Hunny aren’t you happy-” “Mom, school!” Your daughter called. “Get in the car I’ll be there in a sec!” You call back.

“BB is gonna come home early today, so if you want some food just ask him, ok?” He doesn’t answer. He just stares into your soul… Now you known him long enough to read that expression.

He was pissed. And you don’t know why.

You gave him his morning hug, kissed his forehead, did his hair.. Fuck- you even let him sit of your lap when he ate. So why is he so mad?

You didn’t have time to figure out. You had to drop your daughter off at school and go to work. You kissed his head once more and left.

…

“Human affections weird.." 

"WHY are you here?!” Rui demanded at his previous older spider sister. “Well..” She walks over to the couch and admires the color. “After you told me and the rest of the family that we were free and we could leave or keep the house… Everyone had plans and knew where to go.." 

”…And?“ 

"I didn’t. I wanted to stay the house, but I thought it would be unworthy to my younger brother. I do have to protect you-" 

 "I don’t need your protection. You were terrible at it in the first place. This is a family of HUMANS and they are better at protecting me than the old family combined.”

Oni(The older spider sister’s name) huffed and plopped down on the couch. “I’m sorry we weren’t perfect for you, some families has there flaws”

Rui scoffed. “Not this one.” he mumbled, trying to keep a straight face as the memory of you taking him in, crept in. “When are you leaving…”

Oni looked down. Preparing herself for Rui’s next action. “I’m not.”

…

Rui’s head slowly turned. “What.” “I’m not leaving.” “Sorry, I don’t think I’m hearing you correctly..Your what???” His voice sounds like he’s smiling but he isn’t. His face reads very threatening comments.

“I’m not leaving..And you said it yourself.. You have no authority over us anymore.. We are free to make our own decisions a-and I decided I wanted to stay with yo-AHH” Oni Screamed as a flower pot was being thrown in her direction. “RUI WHAT THE HELL!? ISN’T IT LIVING!?" 

"IT’S FAKE!” Rui yelled back, now pissed that he missed. “You aren’t supposed to be here! Your ruining the Family!”

“I just got here!" 

"And your making a mess!" 

"YOU THREW THE POT!" 

"AND I WILL THROW ANOTHER ONE IF YOU DON’T LEAVE!" 

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU I CAN’T!" 

"AND WHY IS THAT!?" 

"BECAUSE I ALREADY TOLD THE MOTHER HUMAN THAT WE WERE SIBLINGS!”

…

Oni ran like her life depended on it. Which in this situation… It did. 

Rui chased her around the house, his threads forming out of rage. When he told his old family that they were free of his control, he was hoping he would never see them again. He didn’t want to see those disappointments anymore. He was living a happier life with humans and he wanted to make every second count. His fury and anger rose at the thought of him now having to share a life with Oni. She would need affection, and when she gets it she’s going to love it and beg for more. Not leaving any for him. Not to mention she will be getting more attention now that she was the new addition to the family. God I knew I should’ve killed them off instead..

Hours passed, and Oni was still running for dear life. “RUI PLEASE SPARE ME! IT WAS ALMOST DAY AND I WASN’T THINKING AT THE TIME AND IT SLIPPED!”

“YOUR JUST MAKING EXCUSES! THIS IS UNFORGIVABLE, I SHOULD’VE JUST KILLED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!” 

Oni thought this was going to be the end of her if it wasn’t for someone opening the door.

“Rui! I’m home! I also got some food… I know your into human meat, but you should really try this- RUI!”

Rui stopped at the sudden mention of his name. Oni, from a distance, stopped too, watch as Rui walked away from her. She sighed in relief and began to slowly followed Rui.

She saw a man- no no, it was a boy, but tall. And he looked a lot like the human mother.. He was tapping his foot and had a couple bags filled with something that, smelled really nice.

“Why is there dirt all over the couch?” He asked. “It was Oni” Rui said, while on his toes trying to see what was in the bag. “Oni? who’s.. Oh hi there! Mom told me about you.” Oni was put at ease at the boy’s presence

Rui rolled his eyes. “She dirty the couch.” “a-ah?! It- It was because-” Rui shot a glare at Oni, shutting her up immediately.

BB let out a sigh. “It’s ok I’ll clean it up- ah Rui give me a second I’ll show you the foods right after I clean the couch-” “I- I’ll clean it!” Oni offered. she was blamed for the mess, of course he would believe Rui, he lived there longer. So why not do someone else’s bidding?

“No-no I’ll clean it-” “NO! Please I made the mess-” “No it’s fine you don’t know the right supplies for this in the first place, go into the kitchen with Rui, I’ll be there in a second.”

Oni tried to argue but failed, now forced to sit in the same room as her brother.

…

Uncomfortable silence fills the room. Rui staring at Oni with a expression that could kill and Oni doing everything she could to distract herself. Oh! what’s that? She thought to herself. There was a picture of the whole family, but without Rui.. It must be a older picture..

But something was off. The picture didn’t fit the whole frame.. and taking a closer look.. There was a hand on the human mother’s shoulder, but neither of which belonged to the human children.

She had to take a closer look. “What are you doing?” Rui asked flatly, but Oni didn’t answer, her only thoughts where on the picture.

Getting closer to the photo, she noticed it was ripped. Oni took a note.

Question 1: was it an accident or was it on purpose?.. The edge looks rigid but it’s perfectly straight. No way that was an accident.

Question 2: Who does the hand belong to?

Oni reached her hand over to grab the frame.

“Don’t touch that.” The voice didn’t sound like Rui’s.. Oni felt someone’s hand lift her hand and led her to the table where Rui was out. She looked up and saw a dead soul looking back at her. “The frame is really fragile.. I don’t want broken glass all over the floor. Mom would be mad..” BB replaces his cold stare with a smile. “o-ok, uh-um what’s in the bag?”

“Just some snacks I thought Rui would like.. But I think he’ll be nice and share..” BB claims, he was wrong but he didn’t need to know that.

“This is Puku-Puku Tai Salt watermelon. I don’t really like this flavor but I think you might like it.” BB explains while handing The Puku-Puku Tai to the two spider looking beings.

Taking a bite at the same time, they both had different reactions. Rui didn’t like the random taste of watermelon with the mix of chocolate, at the same time he didn’t want to be rude. His older brother took the effort to go and buy him some snacks so he can ease his human cravings.. he tried his best to finish the snack, but his pouty expression gave away his true thoughts on the snack.

“Aww, you don’t like it Rui?” BB pouts, patting Rui’s head. Rui puts down the snack and shakes his head. “Aww, it’s ok.. At least Oni likes it.” “What.” Rui asks pissed looking over at Oni who had finished her second Puku Puku Tai, looking in the bag to get another one.

“Wait, I got others to show you”

[jade-marie]

Another comment by the same reddit user. I honestly love her because she articulates my feelings in a way I just don’t have the energy to, right now. I’ve been saying this since the season started, but the big reason why I just can’t find myself enjoying the current Brio interactions is because they still haven’t dealt with the shooting and so the gameplaying just feels fucked up, in a different way. So this isn’t about me liking or disliking Rio, it’s just, I don’t like the writing choices surrounding his character at the moment or the intention behind them. 

All of the stuff from S2 is stuff that I was around to discuss when it was happening, and yes, it was a game for both of them. I always felt that Beth saw Rio as a bad boy fantasy and not as an actual person, and any time he did something that went against her fantasy that he was completely smitten with her, she punished him for it (getting him arrested, the pills, shooting him...). I think Rio always knew that and played along to an extent, but he also started to genuinely care in spite of himself... and then she treated him like a prostitute. Once she made it clear things were really over by shooting him, he was done playing along.

Part of what he's doing now is throwing her fantasy back in her face by behaving almost as if nothing has happened, but there's an edge to it because they both know she shot him. He's basically making fun of her and going, "What, you don't think this is sexy? You would have thought so a few months ago. What happened? Oh right, you shot me and left me for dead."

I don't think Beth understands what he's doing, though, which is where it becomes creepy for me. As a viewer, I think he has zero genuine sexual interest in her at this point and isn't really even enjoying his own games, he's just still angry and he's doing whatever he thinks will keep her off-balance and easy to manipulate. But even if I do think there's a line he won't cross when it comes to sexual violence, she doesn't know that (and really neither do we), so I still find him using their sexual history to destabilize her to be icky. Men making women feel uncomfortable in sexually charged situations is a huge trigger for me personally, and for a lot of other women as well.

And she is uncomfortable--Christina is playing it that way--because she knows she shot him, and she has no idea how far he will go or what his endgame is. She didn't know that before, either, but she had her little fantasy and he played along with it, and now she doesn't have that--her fantasy is over, the titillating mutually enjoyable power tripping is over. She can no longer justify telling herself he'd never really hurt her, so she doesn't know whether he's messing with her but still has a code, or if he's genuinely off-his-rocker obsessed with no lines in the sand left that he's unwilling to cross. That is a terrifying situation to be in for anyone, but especially for a woman, and him putting her in that position is unforgivable to me, whether she shot him or not.

And on top of all that, instead of actually humanizing Rio and showing us that he is an actual human under that mask he wears, they're making his mask scarier while simultaneously humanizing Mick, because it's "safe" to do that with Mick because he isn't "hot" and won't take over the show (I actually think Mick is quite attractive, but he's not the kind of attractive that's going to cause millions of women to obsess over him). They're basically trying to act like they're listening to the criticism about dehumanizing Rio and his gang by humanizing the one that fans aren't obsessed with--trying to have their cake and eat it too--and it's super obvious. (That doesn't mean I dislike Mick--I love Mick, and I don't blame him for the game Bans is playing.)

Maybe with some of the upcoming backstory on Rio, we'll find out that he used to be a lot more like Beth (trying to hang onto moral decency, figuring out how to compartmentalize, etc.), but the life hardened him, so then he was more like Mick, but what happened with Beth hardened him even more. I'm kind of done deluding myself into thinking these writers actually care about Rio or have any intention of humanizing him, though. They make it sound like we're going to get all of this amazing insight and backstory into Rio this season, but it will probably be flimsy and it will be about pushing Beth in one direction or the other, not showing us who Rio actually is. I've played this game with the writers for 3 seasons already, I know all their little tricks.

[inr-lya]

Mermaid RP Request

This plot has been in my mind since- who knows when, lmao. Probs a few weeks ago, and since i’m having trouble finding rp partners on amino, I’ve decided to extend my search here to tumblr. 

As to not waste anyone's time, I'll say it beforehand that I'll be playing Muse B in a bxg or nbxg relationship in which I'm both the girl. I've played as the guy way too often; I miss my girl now. 🥺 and, this is a lit to adv-lit rp, maybe even novella if i’m really into it, and my responses are usually around 400+ to almost a 1000 words. Highest is just a little over 2000, but again, only if I’m really into it, lmao. Feel free to ask for my writing examples.

Before I get to the plot of the rp, let me list some information/rules of mine for compability’s sake.

General; 

♡ I'm over 18, so no minors, please!

♡ I use drawn and realistic FCs if you need pics of the oc, though I don't mind what type you use. Speaking of which, I’m from amino, so I have a wiki on my girl, and if you have amino too, feel free to ask for the link! If you don’t, feel free to ask me to copy paste the info to google docs or just ask whatever you feel you need for the rp :]

  ♡ I can play more than one character, maybe 2-3 max? Depends on their roles in the RP ig.

♡ I have no triggers, but please list me yours so I can avoid them.

♡ I'm not the type to send a message if you were to suddenly disappear, but I'd do it after 2 weeks because I'm tired of my PMs getting clogged up with dead chats. If you're still interested but you need more time, just let me know. I promise I'll wait, my ass literally never reached the middle of any 1x1 rp.

♡ Ngl, I'm getting busy af these days with uni life and plans being made with friends and family. I'm not complaining. I love it, and all I'm saying is I might not be able to reply often. It depends on how invested I am and the difference of our time zones, (mine's GMT+8 btw) but I'll try to give at least a reply every few days or weekly if you're willing to be patient with me.

However, the shorter the literacy, the faster and more often I reply. If we're doing just 400+ to 600+ words, I can reply multiple times a day. Also, I prefer this level of literacy for now, but I can fluctuate to longer responses.

♡ fyi, I'm very open to rp in discord as we can create a server with different channels for ooc chat, rp, notes, etc. If you're up for it, lmk! uwu

. . .

Rules

♡ If you're considering pm-ing me, please skip the small talk like “hey, how are you?”, and just straight-up give me details that you’d like to discuss about the rp. It makes me uncomfortable, lmao.

♡ Have good grammar, punctuation and spelling. I can ignore small mistakes or typos but not constant errors. (I can overlook faulty grammar, however, if you have the creativity to make up for it)

♡ Use 3rd POV

♡ No railroading.

♡ For romance, don't make your character fall in love with mine at first sight or after a few nice gestures unless being naive is a part of their personality. I prefer slow burn. Crushes are fine but don't make your oc feel like my oc is their definite soulmate or something, lmao.

♡ Don't spam me unless I've been absent for a week. I may be busy or not in the mood to RP, but if I'm not interested in continuing, I will let you know.

♡ Any drama, romantic or carnal interactions stay within the RP, do NOT pursue anything with me besides friendship or mere acquaintances, I swear this happens way too often and it's getting stressful. Speaking of which, don't make the RP just about smut like c'mon.

. . .

Okay! Now I can finally jump into the plot! It’s pretty simple, and unfortunately, it isn't mine to claim. I wanted to rp this plot with someone, but they didn't reply to me, and I have no way of finding them again so- yeah, that's the disclaimer if you think I'm stealing your plot or something.

Muse A is a marine biologist who spends their time either studying, finding inspiration for their upcoming projects, or simply take a breather all at the beach. This is where they find peace, where all of their worries melt away and nothing else matters except the present.

Muse A's favourite leisure activity is free diving along the coral reef, underwater caves and tunnels, and pretty much any nook and cranny they can fit into. They're graduating from their specialist residency soon and is searching for ideas and incentives for their thesis along the bays and coves. To be honest, they were looking to mostly procrastinate due to the pressure of a competitive environment finally catching up to them, perhaps a burnout they were trying to get over.

Imagine how they would feel upon discovering Muse B, a creature that had been believed to be a myth, one with an upper-body resembling a human, though covered in brilliant scales and specialised fins adapted to exclusively marine life, and the lower half of a fish, stranded within the abyss of a cavity that would've been completely submerged if it weren't for the extremely low tide that had kept the curious entity from escaping.

Due to Muse A's compassionate nature, they aid Muse B to their freedom, but as soon as an opportunity was in sight, Muse B fled without another glance at their saviour, never to be seen again no matter how many times Muse A were to return to where they were last found.

A few months had passed, and Muse A had since lost hope in their search of Muse B as there was practically zero evidence nor leads to help them unless they were to look any further towards the conspiracy theorists and their claims. They are now focusing entirely on their original, more believable research, unfortunately, they had picked the wrong day to go diving.

The weather had been anything but kind, the skies had gone dark faster than anyone could've predicted, and before Muse A could process what was happening, they were caught in the middle of a raging storm, thrown left and right by the unforgiving waves of the ocean before it all went black. When the light of the sun entered their eyes once more, they found themselves within a secluded area of the island, damp, wet sand beneath them and an image of a woman above, with shining doe eyes and...what is that? Seaweed on her head?

"Hey," she gasped, relieved. The corners of her mouth curled into a smile, her lips still trembling from the thought that she was too late.

"I still haven't thanked you for the last time we met."

An unlikely, most bizarre connection formed between them since, but eventually, the reality of the situation presented itself. Will Muse A tell the world to further the scientific discovery and their career or keep it a secret to preserve Muse B's species' safety?

Alright, and that's the end of the summary! Please read them thoroughly and contact me either through PM or comments. I do not respond to likes.

I look forward to hearing from you! 💜

[beca-mitchell]

Jingle (1/1)

Summary: Beca’s new job has some festive perks—aka—Beca gets a second job at the mall as a Christmas elf and Chloe really likes the outfit that comes with it. Rated M/E.

Word count: 3,550

For @asimplefavors​ bc nobody loves Anna Kendrick more than u...and this is like the best of both worlds...and for always being there to listen to my hcs while also being absolutely demonic with ur own hcs.

Yes, this was inspired by Noelle.

Read below or on AO3.

—

It starts off as an off-hand comment from Fat Amy. Something about Beca being perfectly suited to be a Christmas elf—they had been watching a Hallmark movie or something similar and incredibly cheesy—except for her temperament, which could use “some work”.

Beca shoves Amy with her foot, nearly pushing her bodily off the bed, but the damage is done. Chloe’s eyes brighten, and she looks entirely too amused and entirely too thrilled at the thought. She turns teasing eyes onto Beca before launching into a detailed list of all the ways Beca would make a perfect elf and since she is Chloe Beale, it ends up being pretty hard for Beca to stay too upset. Instead, she's being attentive and all...like a good girlfriend.

What is upsetting is how unfairly pretty Chloe looks, reclining casually in their bed—their bed!—in a reindeer onesie and penguin slippers. Ridiculous.

— — — — —

Beca doesn't hate Christmas.

Chloe just happens to love Christmas a lot. Enough for both of them.

No, Beca does not get the job on purpose. Not one bit.

— — — — —

Dating Chloe is a fairly new thing, but it is possibly the most natural part of Beca’s life at the moment. Still, it’s a thing nonetheless even if Beca isn’t necessarily complaining. Dating your college friend (previously acapella co-captain) while also living in the same tiny apartment was, to Beca, a sure-fire way to mess things completely. Nevermind that they were struggling young adults in one of the most unforgiving cities in the world. Nevermind that they were already sharing a bed. Nevermind that Beca had to come to the realization slowly over the past year and a half living with Chloe, even before they started dating, that her crush on Chloe was more than just a fleeting passion. It was more than just a recent development.

She thought she was fucked the first time she woke with Chloe’s hand draped casually over her midsection and her breath warm against Beca’s cheek.

But she never stood a chance, in retrospect. Not even back in school, when she had slowly been falling in love with Chloe over a series of mash-ups and trophies.

It is thus totally and completely understandable that only two and a half weeks later—after that fateful movie night—Beca somehow finds herself tiredly stomping up to their walk-up, disgruntled and shaking clumps snow out of her bright green elf hat. The horrendously bright red ruffles on the skirt of her dress are even more out of place considering she spent most of the subway ride back into Brooklyn tugging her dress out of the hands of an extremely excited child who was wondering if Santa was riding the subway as well. The job itself was taken on a whim because somebody at work had offhandedly mentioned that their niece had taken on a part-time job at the mall and that it paid ridiculously well for such an easy task.

Beca wants to go back in time and tell her past self to never believe something so ridiculous ever again. She has the utmost respect for people who manage to keep a genuine smile on her face while working—Beca finds herself retreating behind the scenes at least once every ten minutes to simply breathe and use her stress ball. It is not a fun job and not one Beca would pick again, but the extra money is nice and she really is trying to keep an open mind.

(She would just rather not be leered at by middle-aged fathers bringing their kids to sit on Santa's lap. And she's also pretty sure Santa is drunk ninety percent of the time.)

Beca is additionally prickly due to the fact that Chloe has been away for the past week and a half at a conference. Beca is proud of her and glad that Chloe is already getting a head-start in pursuing her veterinary dreams with amazing opportunities on her plate, but she’s only human and misses her girlfriend. She misses Chloe’s arms around her and the gentle kiss Chloe had begun to leave against her ear each morning. She misses grabbing two take-out cups of coffee from their favourite shop just down the street and returning to receive a kiss from Chloe in gratitude.

The perks of being in a fully-fledged adult relationship and all.

(She misses the sex. More than she’d care to admit to anybody considering her only available confidante is Amy and that isn’t something Beca would care to explore.)

There is a silver lining, however. It’s that Beca gets at least one more day of reprieve before Chloe returns and has the time of her life seeing Beca in all her ridiculous get-ups ( plural )—all of which Beca absolutely plans on burning.

Finally, in front of their door, Beca fumbles with the key for a moment before she gleefully manages to get the door open and nearly slams it open in excitement. She’s glad to have avoided most of the snowstorm. She’s excited to curl up in her bed and finally place the order for Chloe’s Christmas present, which she had been putting off because they’ve all been a little strapped for cash, but this second job has been immensely helpful in that regard.

“Hello,” Chloe’s voice sounds unexpectedly from behind the rack of clothes. Beca startles and yelps, dropping her keys and jacket on the floor. She catches sight of Chloe’s feet and the laundry bag by her feet before Chloe is walking back around the rack. Beca’s eyes dart around nervously, realizing she has nowhere to hide.

She strongly considers walking back out the door.

“I was wondering where you we—” Chloe’s words die in her throat the moment she catches sight of Beca standing awkwardly by their kitchen table, clearly having no words for what she sees. “Beca?” she questions, eyebrow rising on her forehead.

“I…” Beca swallows, licking her lips nervously. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

Chloe’s eyes are flicking up and down Beca’s torso, like she doesn’t quite know what to do with all the visual information being sent her way. “I asked to come back a day early because of the snowstorm,” Chloe explains, though her words are stilted and her eyes are still flicking around distractedly. “Are you…”

Curiosity rises in Beca’s body when she realizes Chloe is more than the usual amount of distracted. She tilts her head, waiting for her girlfriend to say more, but Chloe’s mouth quickly clamps shut and the most peculiar blush rises up her cheeks.

Interesting.

Beca definitely recognizes the flushed state of Chloe’s cheeks and neck and she’s certain that it has nothing to do with the slight chill from their unreliable heating unit.

Suddenly, Beca isn’t so exhausted and embarrassment seeps further and further from her mind. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to not change back into her jeans and t-shirt. In her haste to leave work, she had simply grabbed everything and ducked out, hell-bent on avoiding conversational friendliness. “Hi,” she tries again, stepping closer to Chloe. A grin stretches across Beca's lips when she catches bright blue eyes flicking down to her leggings.

Chloe clears her throat. “Hello,” she mumbles, shy and extremely formal.

"Chlo?” Beca questions, using a very specific tone reserved for Chloe when they’re in bed (or about to get into bed). She loves having a momentary leg up on Chloe Beale. “How do I look?"

"Um.” Chloe’s eyes seem to start right at the top of Beca’s head with the obnoxious felt hat, before drifting down to the loose, messy waves of Beca’s hair, then the tightly-fitted bodice of Beca’s dress to the ridiculous flare of ruffles—Chloe’s eyes darkening as they go—before her eyes finally shoot back up to lock onto Beca’s face. “You look nice,” she says politely, though her fingers twitch by her side and she takes two steps closer to Beca. The air already begins to shift between them. Beca struggles to maintain a hold on her libido and her sanity.

"You know, I thought it was kind of stupid, but I think it’s not that bad now,” Beca says nonchalantly, even if her heart begins to race at Chloe’s proximity. She reaches up to brush some hair away from her neck, almost laughing and breaking character when she sees how Chloe’s eyes immediately zero in on the expanse of skin available due to the slightly lower (definitely inappropriate) cut to the dress. “I might make a good elf.” Beca tugs her lower lip between her teeth before shooting a grin at Chloe’s gobsmacked expression.

God, it was hilarious how much Chloe loved Christmas. Or it would be if Chloe's expression weren't morphing into one that more closely resembled lust.

Beca swallows. Damnit.

"Good is one word to use,” Chloe murmurs, clearly regaining confidence. “Small might be another.”

Beca scowls. “Try again. Without using small.”

“Did I lie?” Chloe asks, clearly pleased at having regained some footing. She closes the distance and wraps an arm around Beca’s waist before reaching up to brush some unruly strands of hair away from Beca’s face.

"Kiss me,” Beca demands quickly, hoping to pull Chloe back into her orbit and maintain a hold on the situation.

“I thought Santa’s Little Helpers were supposed to be nice,” Chloe wonders aloud, pressing closer still. The ruffles of Beca’s dress lie trapped between their bodies uncomfortably, but they do nothing to alleviate the heat rising through Beca’s chest.

“I can be nice,” Beca mumbles, eyes flicking to Chloe’s lips not at all desperately.

Chloe smirks—God, Beca hates her—and gently presses the softest, barely-there kiss to Beca’s lower lip. “I missed you,” she murmurs against Beca’s mouth. "I love you," she continues, pressing another firmer kiss. “My little sexy elf,” Chloe teases.

Beca snorts but pulls Chloe in for a firmer, more intense kiss. “Love you too, nerd,” she mumbles quickly in reply before refocusing on her task. She tangles her hands into Chloe’s hair, keeping their lips together. Slowly, she parts her mouth, eager to feel Chloe’s tongue against her own. Chloe hums contentedly before parting her lips obligingly. Both hands now grip Beca’s waist firmly, pulling Beca flush against her body.

Beca hates the clothes between them. She quickly moves her hands under Chloe’s shirt, scraping her nails up her girlfriend’s back while Chloe’s tongue does absolutely sinful things to her mouth. Moaning, she fumbles with the clasp of Chloe’s bra, nearly crowing in delight when she gets it unclasped. Immediately Beca’s hands move to Chloe’s chest and she begins to grope at her girlfriend’s chest, palming delightfully hard nipples. Chloe grunts and gently pushes at Beca’s chest, their lips parting for a moment.

Through heavily-lidded eyes, Beca stares reproachfully at Chloe for ending that kiss far too quickly, but she supposes Chloe is giving her something because her hands have yet to be removed from under Chloe’s shirt. Still, Beca is decidedly displeased by the lack of Chloe’s lips on her own.

"Chloe, why—” Beca begins to whine.

"How long do we have before Amy comes back?” Chloe asks quickly. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip. “I haven’t seen her yet.” Her lips part to expel a quick breath when Beca’s fingers twitch against her breasts.

"Oh." Beca grins, leaning up to press a small kiss against Chloe’s chin before trailing kisses to her jaw. “Didn’t you hear? She has a new fling. She won’t be back for at least the entire weekend.”

"That’s good,” Chloe says before lifting Beca and depositing her on their bed. Beca yelps when her hat is knocked askew and her dress bunches up uncomfortably beneath her. Any complaint dies in her throat when Chloe pulls off her shirt and tosses it, along with her bra, away, leaving her in plain blue jeans. Beca swallows, feeling old insecurities float through her, just for a moment. Sometimes she forgets how effortlessly beautiful Chloe is—how completely out of her depth she feels at times—but Chloe often reminds her how beautiful Beca is and how much she wants her at any given moment. Chloe’s attraction to her is not limited to solely physical attraction, but rather it is an attraction on every level.

Beca finds herself believing it, especially now considering Chloe looks like she wants to devour her completely, Christmas outfit and all.

"God, I want you,” Chloe mumbles, crawling up Beca’s body all lithe-like and unnecessarily hot. Beca is already gasping for air when Chloe’s tongue pushes into her mouth again and her hand is pushing up the thick gauzy material of Beca’s dress. “You’re so hot,” Chloe grumbles, hand coming around Beca’s hip to grab her ass and press their hips together deliciously. She begins to leave open-mouthed kisses against Beca’s jaw and neck before sucking and nipping at a spot just under Beca’s ear.

Tilting her head back, Beca moans quietly, lifting her hips up desperately to create some friction. The small bells on her dress jingle with each shift, but she really could care less, especially not when Chloe finally shifts her thigh and presses up hard against Beca’s center. Separated by both the thick material of Chloe’s jeans and Beca’s festive leggings, the friction isn’t as direct as she would like.

“Chlo,” she begs. “More.”

Ignoring her apparently, Chloe cups her jaw and begins kissing her so thoroughly and deeply that Beca’s hands slacken in Chloe’s hair and she can do little more than allow Chloe to have her way with her. Chloe whimpers against her mouth, hot and breathless before she sits back up between Beca’s spread legs. Biting her lip, Chloe tugs at the waistband of the skirt, letting the elastic snap back against Beca’s midsection. Beca pants, flinching at the contact, but more aroused than ever. Every shift against the bed reminds her of how wet she is, how uncomfortable she is every time her clit licks against the soaked fabric of her underwear.

“I love you in this,” Chloe murmurs reverently. Her fingers trail over the tops of Beca’s breasts, now threatening to spill from the dress. “But. Um. We should, um,” Chloe’s voice is thick and hoarse. “Get this off.”

“Get me off,” Beca demands, unable to help herself.

Chloe flicks the elastic of Beca’s dress again, raising an eyebrow in warning. Still, her hands begin to move again and she finally guides Beca to sit up as well, both of their hands suddenly eager to move as Beca helps her shed the ridiculous dress. It jingles loudly and obnoxiously as it floats to the ground as if saluting Beca once more.

Fucking nuisance.

Chloe laughs at Beca’s disgruntled expression when the dress finally slides off her body and allows Beca to climb into her lap once she discards her stockings and nearly trips over herself in her haste to press her body against Chloe’s again. Chloe begins kissing a trail up her chest and around her collarbone before she leans Beca back a little and nips at the sensitive flesh around her nipples. Beca whimpers once Chloe’s teeth finally graze pebbled flesh. She grabs the back of Chloe’s head to keep her there as long as possible. Chloe’s hands slide under the waistband of her underwear, cupping her ass firmly and steadying Beca’s hips as she begins a quick rocking motion.

Back and forth, back and forth—Beca realizes how close she is to coming as her underwear sticks to her drenched cunt with each shift of her hips.

Too close.

It’s like Chloe has a sixth sense. She pauses her ministrations, lifting her head so she can smile at Beca, lust and desire shining in her eyes. Her fingers slide around so she can rake her nails up Beca’s thighs, the sensation causing a new wave of wetness between her legs. Beca wants to push Chloe back and get herself off on the button of her jeans.

She’s that close.

"Chloe," she breathes. She needs Chloe in her—her tongue or her fingers, she isn’t picky—or she might combust. “Now isn’t the time, I swear. Fuck me. Fuck me,” she enunciates. “I don't have patience today.”

"Oh,” Chloe teases, though any humour is immediately outweighed by how fucking hot Chloe sounds like that. “I’d love to meet patient Beca one day. I’m sure she’d be a good little elf for me.”

Beca hates how quickly her mind immediately files that away under things I will definitely get off to in the future.

"I’ll be good,” Beca promises weakly. “Please, Chlo.”

Chloe’s warmth lifts off her body. She pulls at Beca’s underwear, tugging it off successfully before she settles comfortably between Beca’s legs and immediately begins sucking at Beca’s aching clit.

First, Beca thinks that she is immensely grateful for having discarded the ruffled skirts because she has an uninhibited view of Chloe’s face and the top of her head as she continues licking and sucking at the wet, swollen flesh between her legs.

Second, holy fuck.

Beca swallows, unable to even whine or whimper because of how tight her throat feels. Her lungs strain for air as she gasps breathlessly. Chloe’s fingers dig into her hips, holding her down while she continues using her tongue and lips and teeth in absolutely sinful ways between Beca’s legs. Chloe leaves nothing to the imagination, her tongue slicing up and down through wet folds.

With her head rocking back and forth on the pillow, Beca soon becomes aware of the faintest sound—a lone jingle, muffled by the fabric of her pillow. To her horror, she realizes she is still wearing the obnoxious hat on her head and the bell is caught between her hair and pillow. She reaches up to rip it off her head, but Chloe’s lips immediately tighten around her clit and Beca immediately grabs on to Chloe’s head instead, moaning loudly at the sensation.

“Leave it,” Chloe mumbles.

At first, Beca has no idea what Chloe is referring to, but she then realizes Chloe is referring to the damned hat.

She would laugh if Chloe’s fingers weren’t pressing inside her cunt with practiced ease and immediately setting a punishing pace. Chloe rises slightly so her face hovers over Beca’s. Her lips are parted with the effort of each thrust and her cheeks are flushed. Beca swallows as she stares back, her own jaw unhinged without a care in the world. There is pure lust and want in Chloe’s eyes, like she can’t believe Beca is hers. The desperation of Chloe laying Beca down not too long ago in an act of wanton passion simply because she could and simply because she wanted Beca and missed Beca—

“Fuck, C-Chloe—” She groans, head falling back. “Fuck me, oh God—”

Chloe watches Beca's flushed face with no small measure of smugness dancing across her features—particularly in the glistening on her lips—as she does so. “Good, baby?”

“So good,” Beca whimpers. “Harder, baby, fuck—”

A sharp cry escapes Beca’s mouth as Chloe’s fingers curl and her thrusts become more precise and distinct. From her head, she hears the jingles from the hat, but otherwise, Beca can’t hear much else other than her own panting and Chloe’s heavy breathing with the effort she is putting into fucking Beca into oblivion.

She clenches tight around Chloe’s fingers, her thighs locking up around Chloe’s hips. White explodes behind her eyelids and she quickly presses herself close to Chloe if only to keep her fingers trapped inside her for a moment while her orgasm washes over her in waves.

When Beca’s body finally unclenches, Chloe is peppering kisses along her neck and cheek. Slowly, Chloe’s fingers leave the warmth between Beca’s legs, sliding out of her slowly as to not startle her. With her eyes fixated on Beca’s dazed expression, she licks at her fingers, getting every last bit of Beca off her fingers. “You were so good baby,” Chloe praises before leaning in to kiss Beca thoroughly. Beca hums, enjoying the feeling of Chloe’s lips folding around hers, kissing back with the ease of people who have done so a thousand times before.

Faintly, Beca hears jingling again. Pulling back, she frowns and forces her eyes open. She soon realizes that Chloe is playing with the little bell at the top of her hat, a playful smile creeping across her lips. “Chloe,” she whines. She reaches up to pull the hat off her head, and tosses it aside, hoping it lands somewhere near the garbage can.

“It was cute,” Chloe protests.

Beca frowns. She pushes at Chloe’s shoulder so she rolls onto her back before getting to work at removing Chloe’s jeans which have been on for far too long. “You’re cute. And I’ve missed you. Now shut up so I can go down on you.”

“I don’t think Santa would approve of that language, Bec.”

.

.

.

.

Later, when Beca is rubbing her slightly sore jaw, thinking she sufficiently exhausted Chloe to the point where Chloe couldn’t do much more than cuddle Beca and keep her warm, she realizes belatedly that her first mistake was to underestimate her girlfriend.

“So...is that candy cane strap-on out of the question?”

“Chloe.”

fin.

[disfordevineaux]

Chase x Julia (Chasulia) Headcanons

Part 1

Requested by @mimeless​ & @cyborglovesong​

Height difference. Enough said. 5′11 vs 5′2

Chase will do something, impulsive, against Julia’s wishes which will cause them both to get into trouble by Chief. Julia is already in lukewarm water with Chief (let's not even get into Chase’s stance with Chief, he’s basically just a tool to her at this point let’s be frank) and is devastated by this: ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ lecture they will both receive.

Following this will be the moment she does ‘snap’. It will be a cataclysmic event in which Chase is thrown down a flight of stairs breaking every bone in his body, metaphorically speaking of course. He will be put in his place and forced to stay there and reflect on his actions. The dynamic is forever changed, Julia has asserted her dominance as the bigger brain and it has terrified Chase.

Chase does take the time to officially apologise for his previous transgressions in a formal way. During the time before, he briefly touched on the notion of his wrongfulness towards her character but never completely said ‘I’m sorry’. He would sometimes trickle in a ‘well, you know I’m wrong so-’ or an ‘I guess you were correct all along-’ here and there. Her forgiveness (but insisting that she will not forget) soon weighs upon his good conscious and good-natured soul and devises up a script of repent he will definitely butcher upon presentation. Julia will be touched simply by the effort he put into trying to do the right thing and mend things as he bumbles it and makes sure he is aware of her appreciation and acceptance of his apology. On conditions.

Once Julia officially takes the lead in their partnership, people often mistake Chase for her assistant and or bodyguard because of how he is now forced to step back from the situation and mill about, shadowing her.

Julia begins to match Chase at his own ‘sass’ game and starts peppering in quick quips whenever she can. At first, they aren’t always the best but with enough practise and dedication, she is incredibly good at taking a jab at him.

Chase is very good at giving Julia compliments riddled with unintentional insults - a Complisult, Part insult, part compliment. Reference: Britta from Community.

‘‘You should stop taking slander from people Miss Argent, you deserve better than disrespect from those below you. Someone as ‘self-declared’ intelligent as you should be able to come up with something witty in the moment. You can practise on me if you need. I have thick skin.’‘

Chase does not have thick skin.

Julia will comprise a list of things Chase must and mustn't do for them to be able to work together without complications and for his own safety. All copies are laminated (waterproof) and she even made a mini one for his wallet. The main point on the list he will attempt to revoke will be: ‘Chase shall not drive any ACME vehicles unless given express permission from Julia Argent.’

Chase will always hold the umbrella between them when they need to share one on a rainy day because he always forgets to bring his own. He tells Julia that she should walk a little faster when he holds it above them both and Julia retorts that he should simply walk slower, as it’s not like he ever has anywhere important to go, being him.

Chase unintentionally memorized Julia’s coffee order, hot and cold. He insists it’s because she always makes him go and get it but that is only a small contributing factor.

On that note, Chase will sometimes volunteer or suggest to get her a coffee, even when he doesn't want one himself. He just sometimes feels like being nice, only to Julia because she always is nice back.

Chase becomes oddly willing to share his food with Julia or even go get her food and make sure she’s happy with it. He is the one who will send the food back at a restaurant if it wasn’t what she asked for. He tells her that life is too short and pain-ridden for settling for subpar food and that he is happy to make sure she is free from that.

They both agree that marriage is completely overrated. Chase insists it’s a financial scam used by the property market and bank organisations to force money stricken couples into overspending and gathering unneeded debt to commit to the social norms of companionship, as well as the source of overpopulation. Julia sees marriage more of a poor means of expressing one's true love but can see where Chase is coming from. Chase insists it’s a money-laundering scheme set up by patriarchal ideals no longer relevant in society and that it has nothing to do with love, just money.

Long stakeouts often consist of simple conversational fillers that turn into a critical analysis of the society and the poor way it operates, in Chase’s opinion. Julia just enjoys the stimulating, rather educated conversation, even if he often unravels once Julia puts her very unerring 2 cents in about how the world isn’t all bad.

Julia is far too nice in Chase’s opinion. Especially in regards to him. He will often state how if he was her, he would have been much harsher to himself. Julia finds this self-reflection a welcomed sign and in a moment of teasing, she then comments that he’s right and that she will be much harsher and unforgiving to him from now on. This wasn’t the desired outcome Chase was hoping for and ultimately regrets ever saying something.

Chase will fight anyone who disrespects Julia even to a minute degree. He jokes, in an unusual way to outsiders that insulting Julia is ‘his and only his job.’ that it is a ‘privilege, not a right’. At first, Julia didn’t find this funny but after an uncomfortable interaction with a slightly sexist and condescending governmental man, witnessing Chase sucker punch him right in the face in broad daylight allowed her to fully understand and appreciate the point Chase was cryptically trying to convey in a really bad way.

Julia insists that she can fight her own battles, like a functional adult. Chase says that he never said she couldn’t, that throwing that hot coffee over the rude officer and shoving the snobby personal assistant who said Julia looked like a knock off career barbie doll into the lobby ornamental fish pond was strictly based upon personal previous gripes with said individual.

When given the chance to relax and not feel like he is being rivalled, (why does he feel this way? Toxic masculinity forced upon him throughout his entire childhood he still can’t seem to shake or get away from, that’s what) Chase is endearing with his loyalty. It’s the best way he can show affection, romantical and non-romantical.

After screaming it far too many times, Chase has been banned from saying ‘LA FEMME ROUGE’ ever again and Julia stipulated that if he even murmurs it in his sleep she will take legal action against him for every penny he has. Chase at first took this with a grain of salt and yelled it as loud as he could laughing in defiance as she grimaced. The next day, Chase had a young man ask if he was in fact, ‘Chase Devineaux’ while waiting in line for coffee. Once he said yes, all the man said was say; ‘you’ve been served’ and handed him a formal document to say he is being sued by Julia Argent. Whom had, overnight, copyrighted the saying: ‘La Femme Rouge’ and is formally suing him for unlawful use of her saying in a public space. Chase no longer questions Julia’s intentions from this day forward and is equally terrified and in awe of her follow-through.

Julia has also banned Chase from using puns or wordplay in lieu of Carmen Sandiego’s name. With the previous threat having substance he does not test it. Chase still tells Julia for someone whose passion is history and literature, she lacks the theatrical flair that comes with it and thought someone like her would appreciate the wordplay, especially when it comes from someone whose first language isn’t English.

It’s safe to say that Chase becomes additionally thoughtful in his actions, more so because he doesn’t want to upset Julia by making an easily avoidable mistake. He wasn’t completely devoid of forethought, he just didn’t take time out for it, now he does.

There weren’t many instances before where Chase smiled, not being a cocky smirk. His genuine small smile is a welcomed thing they both enjoy at the right time.

It doesn’t take Julia very long to figure out that mints were a substitute for his cigarette addiction he later tells her is a ‘European thing’ when really it’s something he started doing at 14 to 1) look cool and 2) because he liked it. Now it mainly quells the stress that pools inside him. It started out with more mints and no cigarettes, then slowly adapted to all cigarettes and no mints. She makes an effort to always have some with her so he doesn't smoke as when he does because his clothes reek and also because it’s incredibly unhealthy. It’s especially apparent when they are in close quarters for days on end. Julia comments on how diligent he is on his appearance and insists that smell is a part of that too. Chase tries to deflect the awkwardness of Julia’s care and comments: ‘’Didn’t know you were so focused on my looks Miss Argent, I’m flattered.’’ Although, this comment immediately backfires as Chase found that this just made himself feel horribly more awkward with what it may imply.

Julia never thought or expected that Chase could talk with a hushed voice or even in a warm tone about normal things. Seeing him casually, sitting comfortably slouched as if relaxed in his car seat is humbling, comforting and humanising. It reminds her that he is, in fact, just another person trying to do their best at whatever they can.

Chase slowly comes to expect and enjoy Julia’s informational talks and explanations. When actually listening, because he has to now, he understands their relevance to the case on hand and finds it like watching the history channel on TV, except the presenter isn’t an unattractive 80-year-old man with an unbearable cockney accent. Her voice is oddly pleasing when not forcing himself to be angry at every second of his existence. He notes that she is a very good speaker.

Julia teaches him to slow down and Chase guides her on taking what’s rightfully hers.

Chase is a good shot. He is the type of person who is better with their hands than their mind. For some reason, it’s the one thing he doesn’t brag about when he really could be, as he is a really good shot. Julia learns of his skill and implores him to teach her. Absolutely vexed at the idea that he can finally teach her something he accepts. He teaches her well and with great success until they are kicked out of the shooting range because Chase decided to show off. He shot down every lane hitting each target in the head, chest and groin perfectly exclaiming that you get ‘triple points’ for combos. The manager of the range and other customers found this incredibly insensitive but with how joyful and upbeat it made him, seeing him smile with genuine happiness, Julia couldn’t help but laugh along too, accepting the lifetime ban from the range with pride.

[wordsnstuff]

Guide To Writing Enemies To Lovers

-- I decided to format this article like its accompanying post, Guide to Writing Friends to Lovers, which you all seemed to really like. I hope this is as helpful as that, and thank you to everyone who responded to the poll that contributed the questions I answered in the “common struggles” section. I have a feeling I’ll be reaching our for direct topic-specific questions through polls more often, so keep an eye out. Happy writing!

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Take The Time To Make It Believable

There is a certain amount of care required in the depiction of these stories because they can be really touchy and very easily lead awry. It needs to be handled with care when you tell the reader that this character is going to forgive the other one for doing this, and why. Show the thought process, show the growth, show the reason, and give the story time to make that change reasonable in the reader’s head.

Roll In The Tension

Let the tension build, thicken, and sit in the reader’s tummy. That’s the most delicious part of reading this trope, and the most fun part to write, so enjoy it, and don’t ask yourself if it’s “too intense” or if you need to speed up the pace. Let it simmer, and let the reader stew in it. The longer you draw it out, the yummier the resolution will be. 

Give Up Pride, Not Values

Your characters should not end the story by forfeiting what they feel and believe in order to win the other over. That’s not how life works, and that’s not a good way to depict love and forgiveness. Forgiveness is the main theme of enemies-to-lovers stories, after all, and if you’re writing romance, you should imprint a healthy romantic story into your reader’s memory, even if it’s bumpy, tense, and dramatic for the majority of the actual events. 

Make The Relationship Improve Them Both

Romances usually hold a meaning or message about romance that the reader will take away from the story at hand. Your message should, ultimately, be that these two people, despite their differences and shortcomings, grew to forgive each other for their mutual mistakes, found common ground, and even fell in love. The end of a romance should be positive, or at least transformative to the reader in a positive way. The couple you depict, if they are meant to be a good couple in the context of the story, should improve each other, and make each others’ lives better. 

Abuse vs. Rivalry

There is a poignant difference between two people who are abusing each other and two people who don’t like one another. Abuse can be heavily romanticized or forgiven when this trope is approached with inadequate care and attention. If one or both of the members of the couple actively bring each other down, truly, in an emotional, mental, or physical way, it’s abuse, not enemy-ship, and if that’s intentional, you shouldn’t call your story a romance. Abuse is not romantic, and it never should be depicted to be so.

Common Struggles

~ Where do you draw the line between hurtful and unforgivable?... That depends on your characters’s values, and you need to think long and hard about your characters’ individual boundaries before you even start writing. Your reader will get to know your character. If your character forgives something your reader knows they would never forgive, that will destroy their personal understanding of them.

~ How do you solve the difference between them without making one change for the other?... Explain their thought processes, I recommend by choosing a flexible point of view to write the story from, and show where that understanding comes from. You need to set those boundaries within your characters that make sense for them, and you need to hold to those. The point they should be at by the end of the story isn’t in total agreement, it’s at a compromise where they meet halfway. They should learn by the end to love each other wholly, not when they change for one another. 

~ Going from actual dislike of each other to attraction without saying they liked each other the whole time... It’s simple; give them legitimate reasons for not liking each other in the first place. Don’t make their rivalry based on something like a third grade spelling bee misunderstanding with a little “he’s cute though” sprinkled on top. Show a real misunderstanding, or real clash in values, and explore its implications for the reader to understand.

~ How do you show the forgive part between them without including the forgetting?... Let the reader know by the end of the story that the characters have acknowledged the hurt they’ve caused each other,  totally and openly through an honest conversation about everything that caused their mutual dislike of each other. Show them confronting the problem, and admitting that it will always be a prominent part of their past, but that they’re willing to try in spite of it.

~ How do you show forgiveness between two people who physically fought without making it romanticize abuse?... Give legitimate evidence that a) nobody was/is a victim of actual abuse and b) they both know that the physical fighting was wrong, painful to the other, and that it can/will never happen again. Ever. In the action or more violent sort of genres, this is way more flexible, because there are more grey-area situations, but as long as you make it very clear that there is no possibility of them hurting each other, in any abusive context, during the relationship or afterward, then you shouldn’t have a problem.

~ How do you establish the growth in trust between the two characters?... Make it occur naturally and at their own individual paces.They’ll grow toward one another at different rates, and you need to pay attention to letting it grow on its own rather than fitting that growth into whatever parameters you’ve set for your story structure. Also, show the little things that make that trust bloom, along with the big ones. Make them noticeable, but simple and ultimately built upon one another.

~ How do you make two characters with completely different morals grow to love each other?... Compromise and honesty. Communication and understanding. Those are the four foundations of any relationship, and especially these ones. Make your lovers listen to each other, and make them see the other side. That doesn’t mean agree, and that doesn’t mean conform, it just means you have to make them see where the other is coming from and empathize with their process of validation. 

~ How do you write the characters’ friends growing to support the relationship?... This can be tricky, but it depends on the friends’ individual relationships with that character and their lover. With this subject, if you keep to the manner in which you’ve developed them, they should grow to understand (or not understand) their relationship in a way that makes sense to the reader and enhances the story. If there’s tension, let it lay, and if it makes sense, let it pass.

~ How do you pace the evolution of their opinions/feelings about one another correctly?... There’s a few stages to telling an enemies-to-lovers story: 1. they dislike each other 2. that dislike becomes a problem for them 3. they begin to see the other’s point of view 4. they understand the other’s perspective 5. they don’t dislike each other anymore 5. they grow feelings for each other 6. they get together. The first stage should be established and explained really well. The second should be simple but important, and very impactful to both of the characters. The third stage should be slow burning and very uncomfortable, but transformative to both of them. The fourth should happen as the result of events building on one another, not one single event. The last two should be clearly separate, and the fifth should be a slow burn on its own. This pacing strategy should allow for a lot of tension, build up, and a very satisfying ending.

Resources

Enemies Turned Lovers Prompts

Skinny Love Prompts

Angst Prompts

How To Make A Scene More Heartfelt

20 Mistakes To Avoid When Writing Young Adult Fiction/Romance

Tips On Writing Skinny Love

A Guide To Tension & Suspense In Your Writing

Writing Arguments Between Characters

Pros and Cons of Different Points Of View

Tips On Writing Intense Scenes

Resources For Romance Writers

Useful Writing Resources

Useful Writing Resources II

Resources For Describing Emotions

Giving Characters Bad Traits

Relationships Between Characters With No Connection

Relationships Between Polar Opposites

The Terror Behind Your Beauty Playlist Listen On Spotify

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[thisartemisnevermisses]

Going Under 8/12

Paring: Mostly Steve Rogers x Reader; little Clint Barton x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, out of character acting, probable smutt in later chapters, sad reader, broken, sweet ending. 

Summary: You work as head oversight for the Avengers. After a party and a little kiss, you start crushing on Steve. Only an event from you’re rookie years, is sabotaging the possibility of your crush to evovle into something more.

A/N: Well were headding towards the end, soon there will be a confrontation with the person causing so much hamock. Comments are welcome, love to read what you think of the story. 

Chapter 08: Sweet Sacrifice

“What did Callie find?” Steve asks you, he still had the feeling that something was off and it wasn’t only this mission. He had the feeling that it was part of a bigger picture.

"Well Callie didn't find any errors in the plans, but found a few emails from an unknown address. In those emails were attachment with the strategies in it. Someone was sharing our mission plans with the enemy. We can't trace it, but I guess that's what happened with the Lorelei mission too.” Looking from Steve to Bucky, who had a grin on his face, seeing he was piecing the puzzle together.

“About that mission, I think I get why you punched Clint in the face.” Bucky looked at Steve a lopsided smile on his face. Steve sighed and laid his face in his hand. “I punched him because he was under control off Lorelei.” Steve exhaled looking agitated at Bucky, a blush upon his cheeks. “You Both were under control of Lorelei. You and I know that, punk.” Bucky shuckles. “Will you shut up, I remember that to well.” Steve answers embarrass, “Y/N, you say that this mission was also sabotaged?”

“Yeah, look at the facts, for some reason she managed to escape Asgard for the second time. Went to earth again, searched for shield-agents for an army and what’s mostly bothering me, is something she said. I can’t remember all of it, the thing that keeps repeating in my head is… Blondie thanks, this was indeed a good choice. The only blonde person there, was you Steve.” You look at him, shock is all over his face, this can’t be. What did he do, was he under some kind of spell, had he freed Lorelei, without knowing. And not to mention, he has been a douchebag towards y/n. It was the reason he stopt wooing you, the fight you two had was rough and the things he had said, were unforgiving. Steve facepalmed himself, he had fucked up big time.

“There’s an anomaly, Fury wants us to check it out.” Sharon announces entering your office. “Really, Fury didn't ask me to run diagnostic.” You answer querking an eyebrow.

“Well that's because we need to take action, immediately there’s no time for diagnostics. We need to assemble a team and go.” Sharon starts tapping her foot impatiently. “So who's here and can assist me with this mission, Agent Barton, Agent Romanov, Steve iuuh i mean Captain Rogers..come on, you have got to have some skills, accept for sleeping around for promotion”, she snapped at you.

Callie looked dumbfounded, open and closing her mouth like a fish for air. “Excuses me.” Lexie exclaimed looking from Sharon to you and back again. Both of you started a staring contest. “I Will pretend i didn’t hear that. Otherwise I would think you would like to offend me.” you said ignoring Sharon, seeing Steve standing there you freeze, the look in his eyes is something that upsets you. “What do you mean?” Steve ask, making Sharon jump a little, but gains her composure quickly, “Oh, you know, that y/n slept with Agent Barton to gain a level 6 clearance.” Sharon smirkes, looking at the shock in Steve’s face.

Trying to ignore Steve staring, you read the email and start to assemble the team. “Lexie would you ask agents Barton and Romanov to suit up and go the the hangar of quinjet 6. Callie let Avery know he’s to go with the team and make sure the drones work so we can assist from afar”, once you have systems up and running, you turn towards Steve.

“Captain Rogers, would you assist the team. It seems your expertise is required. A Asgardian soldier has escaped.” directing your attention to Steve. Snapping back to reality, Steve looks at you, “We need to talk about that, you slept with Barton, how..when..” he indignantly looks at you.

“Let’s talk about this later. The world needs us.” You look apologeletic at him.  

------------In the field------------

“Carefully engage Lorelei, she is of great danger. She can manipulate you with the sound of her voice.” Lexi spoke, “We tried to enhance your earpieces. It isn’t great to listen to a animatronic voice, but for this mission it’s the saves option. Your earpieces are filtering everything, so her voice shouldn’t be able to effect you in anyway, please keep them on at all times.” Lexie explains, “Copy that, I think it’s already working, quite annoying too.” Steve comments back.  

Lorelei was expecting the Avengers, she had heard of them and knew their power. They would become her new army and bring her the throne she so wanted. When Steve took a blow to his head, his earpiece got smashed and soon got corrupted by Lorelei.

“You feel betrayed by your friends, yet you yearn for her. Your rage is the rage of a berserker. You will come in handy, but first, turn your anger towards the ones you hate.” Lorelei speaks into Steve’s ear.

Throwing his shield aside, Steve storms toward Clint. His fist connecting with his jaw instantly. Clint’s earpiece catapulting out of his ear. The next punch hitting Clint in the gut.

“My, my you’ve got such a rage towards this person. But let me tell you, he’s got the same rage towards you. It seems you yearn for the same person. Talking about unrequited feelings.” Lorelei smiles, “But, soon my soldiers you will only yearn for me”, looking at the two fighting Avengers.

“That’s enough! my darlings.” Lorelei comments, making an end at the fight between Steve and Clint. “Well blondie, thanks, It turned out that it will pay of. Come, my soldiers, there’s much to do.” Lorelei walks away, Steve and Clint obeying Lorelei, following her on foot.

--------------

Standing in your room, you let out a heavy breath. What a mission, what a dangerous woman and situation. Thank god for Natasha’s quick thinking, the assistence of May and Sky for getting Sif so quickly to earth. It took all willpower to get those two back. The quinjet would be on its way back and then you would see what the colleteral was.

Changing into your regular clothes, when you hear a knock on your door. Would he really have the energy to discuss this now. Where they even back in the hanger?

Opening the door, you see a battered Steve standing in front of you. His eyes wild, confusion, questions, self doubt and anxiety in them. “Steve, are you really capable off listening to me?” You look him over, trying to caress his arm, but he pulls away, rapidly.

Tears are forming in his eyes, he swallows thick, trying to put away the feelings he has for you. The confrontation with Lorelei shoke him rough awakening. He knew he had feelings for you, but did’t expect them to overrule those for Peggy. The words from Lorelei keep repeating in his head over and over again. But it didn't took the anger or rather jealousy about you sleeping with Clint away. It made his anger even worse, he felt betrayed, where he had not have the right to feel that way. Ignoring that feeling in the pit of his stomach, Steve speaks the question that will be the death sentence to your fragile relationship.

“What did Sharon mean with that comment?” Steve asked. “What comment?” asking agitated, knowing damn well, about which comment he’s talking about. “The one, where she mentioned you sleeping with Clint.” Steve bit out, anger all over his face, mixed with disgust.

“Steve let me explain.” You rub your temple, he was really going to to this now. “It isn’t all black and white like Sharon assumes. Yes I slept with Clint.” You sigh, looking up to the tall Avenger, there’s a shimmer in his eyes, are those tears in his eyes.

“So that's true. What else didn't you tell me?” Steve swallow, his whole demeanor changing, even the sound of his voice isn’t like your used to. It’s cold and bitter, without emotions, almost accusing, “Well did you get a promotion...out of it.” he asks vile in his words, it made him feel uncomfortable, but he felt betrayed so who cares.

“No, Steve, God NO, not out of sleeping with him, but by doing my job right. It was a mere coincidence that it happened right after each other. Please believe me.” You look at Steve, seeing the way he looks at you, is enough to understand he has made up his mind. Tears start to run down your face. Not this again, not losing Steve over something from your past, you can't take this. First Clint and now him. Please Steve, just believe me. You know me, you know who I’am and what I'm capable off.” Wiping away the tears with your sleeves, only to be replaced by another tear, the hard look on Steve’s face, is enough for you to start sobbing uncontrollably.

“I know quite well what you’re capable off. I thought I knew you, but I guess I’m wrong. To think that we could start something. That I have feelings for you. You fooled me, well played. I guess there won’t be a promotion this time. This little game of yours ends here. What kind of fool do you think I am, y/n.” Steve looks at you, his eyes hard, jaw tightened and his hands clenched. The tears running down his face, make you hope you still have a chance. Maybe you could get through to him afterall.  

“I would never do that to you, to anyone. I maybe have feelings for you, but I guess I’m not your type. I'm self conscious about those things. I cherish every kiss we shared, Steve, it’s not how Sharon says it,” you plea, looking him in the eyes. Searching for his understanding, his knowledge about you, the affirmation he understands that this is a mistake. Steve shifts, his eyes cold, body tall and aloof, he scrapeds his troath.

"Kissing you was a mistake, thinking you could be something more than a coworker, to think i was comparing you to Peggy. You disgust me, i never thought you were that low." Steve avoids eye contact with you, turning away.

You sniff one last time, regain your composure and speak up, “You’re right. I was foolish believing I could live up to a ghost. You're even comparing me to her. And now that there’s a crack in you perfect picture, a lie, you can finally throw me away. Don’t worry I won't get in the way of your precious Peggy. I think if it was her you wouldn’t even dare to doubt her side of the story. Were done here Steve. I get the hint, Captain Rogers. Am I excused to go. I would like to go to my team. There’s work to be done.” You straighten up, wipe away your tears, the look on Steve’s face caught you off guard. So many mixed emotion, but none of them signaling you, you got through to him. Taking one final look at him while walking out the door. Steve slams the door close, standing in your room, looking at your bed. How could he stop those feelings for you. Your actions were well calculated, that what’s Sharon said. You had fooled him into falling in love with you, even more than he was with Peggy. He chuckled ironically to himself, almost looking like a mad man. He had to get out, opening your door he sees you walking towards Clint.

Starting to walk to your office, you see Clint standing in front of the weaponary. He smiles a lopsided smile towards you. Behind you the door opens and Steve walks out. His eyes red and face flushed, he looks your way. Seeing you walking towards Clint, he can only nod his head and huff, while walking away.

Clint turns to you, “Trying to get into another Avengers pants?”, he smirks, regretting his comment the instant he sees your face. You huff and smile bitterly, you can’t do this anymore. “You’re right I don’t have the right to be loved, especially by an Avenger, right agent Barton “You’re right I don’t have the right to be loved, espacially by an Avenger, right agent Barton. I’m the person who sleeps around and gets an promotion out off it.  Thanks you agent for opening my eyes, finally.” You mock, raising your hands to the ceiling. “I let emotions run free and cloud my judgement. Forgetting what it means to be   an agent. Congratulations to you Agent Barton, you finally pushed me past my breaking point. Well done.” You start clapping, “Well done.” Speaking cynical while patting Clint on his shoulder.

“It’s time to accept my place in this team. I was foolish thinking that I could make friends, go past what happened in our past. It still hurts, you know, you’re believing I’m using all of you to gain a promotions. I don’t know who put you that flea in your ear, but I assure you it’s one big lie.” You stand tall, hands shaking, tears welling up in your eyes. As if your fight with Steve wasn’t enough today. You lost all your hope, thinking everything was getting better, it burned to the ground today. The sniping comment Sharon made about your past with Clint, Steve wanted to know the truth behind that comment. The relationship you were building with him, collided with that one comment and your fight. Maybe it would be wise to resign as analyzer.

“y/n” Clint says snapping you back to reality. The expression on his face changing, is he showing remorse for his comment. “I…I didn’t want to hurt you. Didn’t mean to make you feel this way. It’s just, those rumors about you, made it difficult to believe in your sincerity. It made it easy for my, to keep my distance, to justify my infidelity towards Laura. Blaming you, was easier than acknowledge my feelings for you. That I just wanted you for me. It’s just I couldn't have you.” Clint explains looking away from you, at the wall, recalling his memories of you, underneath him.

“Clint..” you stand wroothed to the ground in shock, what was he saying. “My feelings for you never changed, what happened on that mission was real, my feelings were real. I just didn’t think about the consecences. I just didn't think about the consequences. It was as if Laura didn't exist and I wasn't becoming a father. I know I screwed up, big time. It was easier for me, for you to hate me. And getting that information about you from…..Let’s just say I used it to make you hate me easier. I thought I had put aside, buried my feelings. But seeing you at that party and hearing you where joining us as analyzer, made all those feelings resurvise. Seeing you with Steve, seeing you as you were before I broke you, it made me jealous that he could make you feel this way. Looking at you, seeing how I broke you again, It’s not what I wanted, y/n, please believe me.” waiting for you’re reaction, trying to make eye contact, but you refuse to look at him. Trying to coop with the new information, astrucken about the selfish words from Clint.  

“I don’t know if or when you can forgive me, but please accept my apology.” Clint stares at you, his own eyes full of emotions. It seems he is realising what he has done to you.

You blink, tears falling down on your cheeks, smile resentful, “You’re right, I don’t know how I and if I can forgive, for making a part of my life so miserable. You’re selfish, don’t thinking about the consequent, you’re like a child whose toy got taken away and it wasn’t even your toy. Yet again you tell me, there’s someone telling things about me. And you rather believe them, then my own words. That’s what hurts me the most. I thought that after our mission, you knew who I was and would stand up for me, when someone made that kind of comment about me. AGAIN, I don’t do suchs things, I work hard, do my best, even when it blows up in my face, I try to be as flexibel as I can, I have anxiete for every mission, because I wouldn’t dare to have blood on my hands, So I don’t sleep well until the missions over and everyone is save. And still you believe, that I have time to sleep around so I get promoted. I have no other words for this, then leave me alone Clint. Once your ready to tell me whose, told those lies about me. Don’t bother talking to me again.” You snap at him, striding away in a quick pace. Once you’re around the corner, you sink to the ground and let you tears run freely, what a fucked up situation this was. Someone was intently starting rumours about you, but why? Did you have the energy to investigate or would you do one more mission and leave the Avengers.   

Bucky looks at Steve, "Really punk, really. You're such an idiot." he punches Steve's arm. "Your such an ass, she poured her heart out and you didn't believe her, You even made it worse, listening to that witch, Sharon. Maybe she’s the person starting all those rumourse about y/n." Bucky looks at you realisation in his eyes.

Your brain is working overtime. It takes little time for you to put the last piece of puzzle togheter. "Bucky, every mission that went wrong, she was there. Sharon was there. All those missions were in commission of the CIA, of HeR. She wasn't blond in Nevada, because she had been undercover. But she was the second blond on the scene. Lorelei didn't mean you, Steve, she ment Sharon. She’s behind all these sabotages, there’s no other way."

[gjnnypotter]

What’s your opinion on Snape? x

Okay, where do I even begin?

Severus Snape is one of the characters in the Harry Potter series that I absolutely detest. He’s a bully to the students that aren’t in Slytherin (Neville and Harry in particular) and there is no excuse for that. Absolutely no excuse.

 The fact that Snape turned into Neville’s boggart says so much. Neville is a boy who’s parents were tortured into insanity, his remaining family were strict and often disapproving of him, he encountered a three-headed dog when he was only a wee first year and he saw his friends get petrified by an unknown beast in his second year - yet his worst fear is his potions professor, Severus Snape. Teachers are meant to be an influential and positive role model in a young persons life (I know not all teachers are - but they’re meant to be and that’s the point), they are not meant to be a thirteen-year-old’s worst fear.

And lets not forget when he made Hermione cry after he insulted her physical appearance - insulting the size of her teeth for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Anyone who makes fun of the way another person looks needs to really stop and think about their actions. But the fact that Snape - a grown man - insulted Hermione - a teenage girl, about the way she looked is quite simply disgusting. 

He may have protected Harry in the name of ‘love’ for Lily - but the whole Snape/Lily situation is extremely uncomfortable to read about in the first place. Firstly, he made a branch fall on top of Lily’s sister (yes, I know Petunia is horrible too, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior) and that in itself is a horrible thing to do. He then goes on to imply that because both he and Lily were magical - they were better than Petunia (as she was ‘just a muggle’). Then the incident after their DADA O.W.L was most certainly, unforgivable. Calling the girl you supposedly love a racial slur is a horrendous thing to do. Then promptly apologising by implying that it ‘slipped out’ is insulting to both Lily and everyone else of her blood status. 

He then went on to become a Death Eater. Incase that may have slipped some people’s minds. And if that isn’t bad enough - he was the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy. As Harry says in the Half Blood Prince, ‘Don’t tell me it was a mistake professor, he was listening at the door,’ (or something along those lines - I don’t have the book to hand) Snape knowingly informed his master of the prophecy knowing that a child would have to die. Whose child it was didn’t matter to him at that point - he was fine, chill even, with the fact that a baby (and possibly said baby’s family) would be murdered. And after he found out that it was Harry that was to be targeted - he begged Dumbledore simply to save Lily. He didn’t care if Harry and James died so long as Lily was safe. And I thought the same thing as Dumbledore at that moment. Dumbledore simply said in response. ‘You disgust me [Severus]’. Because how could anyone not be disgusted by that? How is it possible for someone to ignore this part of the series?

Yes, he may have been brave while being a spy for Dumbledore and the Order, and he may have saved Harry’s life a few times - But those are two positives in a long, long list of negatives. From bullying (most) students to selling out a baby to one of the darkest wizards of all time - I’m sure you can take from this that I cannot stand Severus Snape.

Thank you and goodnight. 

[luckydicekirby]

Hello yes I would like a dvd commentary on a history of partings thanks

Well first of all obviously this story was mainly written to cause you specifically pain, so jot THAT down. Mostly I really wanted like, a good long Alyosha/Arrell backstory and like…no one else was gonna write it…not even Austin…so alas this burden fell to me. I have toyed with the idea of writing Arrell’s version of this but god, it would be so depressing. 

Anyway! Here’s the mind meld scene, you’re welcome.

Story here!

Later–a few hours or days, I was not sure–I awoke, feverish, to see you bent over me, your hands clasped tight around one of mine. I thought for a moment that you were casting a spell, but I quickly realized that in fact you were murmuring the words of a prayer, so quiet I could barely make them out.

Arrell PRAYING as the obvious Oh Geez Things Are Bad marker, of course.

I still don’t know whether that moment was a dream, a conjured fantasy of mine: the idea that I could be the only thing you would dare to have faith for. But, figment or not, your prayer worked, and the next time I awoke my mind was clear once again. You weren’t there. I spared a moment to be upset before I heard you speak, clear as if you were standing in front of me: I went out to get food. I’ll be back soon, Alyosha. And underneath your words I could hear a heartbeat, running much quicker than my own. My mouth tasted acrid. I stood up shakily to drink some water, but the bitterness on my tongue remained. I realized, as my breathing began to pick up, that it was your fear.

This was a scene I really wanted to get into this fic because I do really love the idea that Arrell is just….Deeply Afraid, all the time. And like it does not excuse what an unforgivable jerk he is! But it does make me really sad. My capacity to be sad about jerks truly is boundless. 

You had used this spell on me once or twice before, although never for long. Once so that I could run an errand for you, to choose the right book from a large stock that a merchant carried. Another time so that I could give you directions to a particular bakery I wanted you to buy my favorite rolls from. A third time on a rare occasion when we travelled together, to ensure that neither of us became lost. Simple and frivolous things like that. But it did not work the way that it should. You had explained it to me: this spell was meant for simple communication between minds. And any other time you used it, that was how it worked. But between us, our thoughts bled together like cheap ink on paper, and nothing you did could stop it.

Dungeon World: Yeah so telepathy is just like, a normal telepathy spell that works to send messages, nothing weird here!

Me: Okay but what if it was a fucked up involuntary mind meld thing in this specific instance? You know just for fun?

Anyway, I think them using telepathy so Alyosha could give him directions to a bakery is really cute. Nothing is more romantic than bread! Just ask Hella.

The mystery and intimacy of it bothered you and delighted me. But you never agreed to test it further, to discover precisely why this spell worked differently when you used it on me, rather than anyone else.

Arrell obviously being like. Can’t let my boyfriend read my mind he might find out about the oncoming heat death of the universe, and actually try to help me with that! God I hate him. 

I let the subject drop. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and clearly to share your thoughts so closely with me did. I tried not to blame you for that. It was a normal thing, to dislike such claustrophobic intimacy, even with me.

And I knew why it was different. I could feel it, in the press of your heart against mine.

Aside from it being this way for Narrative Purposes, I do think being in love making your telepathy spell too intimate by default IS romantic.

But you hated that closeness, and I could not blame you for it–you, who believed so fervently in the separateness of humanity from one another. I have never agreed with you in that, but I could only respect the belief you held so tightly.

WE’RE MOSAICS MISSING EMBELLISHMENTS, ARRELL!! BITCH!!

I sat back down on my bed and closed my eyes, and I thought about what you had done. You had not wanted me to wake up alone, and so you opened a connection between us, something you hated desperately.

I let that knowledge settle into my gut over your anxiety, and I waited for you to return, content that for just a small moment, we were closer to one person than two.

Oh yeah I forgot I put the Plato soulmates story earlier in this fic…Alyosha is really into the idea of two people being so connected they’re one person, which sure means he should’ve picked a different boyfriend. Or maybe he is that way because he has such a standoffish on again-off- again boyfriend! fun to contemplate.

You returned with two covered dishes, and set them down with a clatter on the table before you came to me. You fell to your knees before me, hands on my thighs, your head bowed. You said my name, ragged.

“I’m all right. I promise you I’m all right.” I ran my hand through the short bristly hair at the back of your neck. I could see your back shaking. I could feel inside my head the sobs you were not letting escape. “Tutor, please, look at me.”

You did. I’d never seen you look so scared, not in the years and years we had known each other. And I could feel it, too. Fear for my well-being, fear that you would be left alone, fear that soon enough we would all be gone–

“Tutor,” I said, fear clawing at my throat, tears stinging at my eyes. I bent over you, pressed my lips to the crown of your head, my loose hair falling around us, sealing us off from the rest of the world. If I could just protect you from the dark–

The tail end of these paragraphs being Arrell’s thoughts bleeding into Alyosha’s, and getting really close to letting Alyosha know about the H&D. I do really love coming up with situations where characters thoughts can bleed together–this happens in the aly/arr/hadrian fic too (thanks, dungeon world spell Cage, which does explicitly allow mind-reading) and the vanven fic. I just think it’s neat!

I felt you raise your hand and wave it in the air, a dismissive gesture, ending the spell. All at once the fear ebbed, a tide returning to sea, and I could breathe again. I gasped and sat back.

And of course the moment Alyosha starts to get a sense of what exactly Arrell is scared of, Arrell is like oh shit, let’s NOT do that. I mean also because he was low-key giving Alyosha a panic attack.

“What–Tutor, I don’t understand–”

Your hands gripped my knees tightly, hard enough that I could feel your nails biting into my skin. “I thought that I would come back and find you gone. That something I had done would be wrong, or something I didn’t do–”

“It was just a fever. I didn’t meant to scare you.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Do you always feel like that?”

“It’s nothing,” you said. Head bowed once again. Hiding your eyes.

Yes, he always feels like that. ugh Arrell SAY WHAT YOU MEAN

I couldn’t bear to force you to speak, though maybe then would have been the only time I could–you were already so cracked open before me. But I wanted to see you smile again. I wanted to take the fear from your eyes. I wanted to convince you I was alive. And this was the problem I could see, so I pulled you up by your forearms and folded you into my arms, my mouth pressed against your ear. “I’m here,” I said, over and over, and you clung to me, your tears hot against my neck.

Alyosha is such a good boyfriend and Arrell does NOT deserve him. Anyway, for Arrell to actually be crying you KNOW he must’ve been really fucked up. One supposes that dealing with the impending death of the universe is fine, but when you add ‘my boyfriend is really sick’ into the mix then it just becomes unmanageable. 

Eventually you stood and dusted yourself off. The food you brought had gone cold, but we ate it together on the bed. Your eyes followed me as if magnetized, as if you couldn’t let me out of your sight. In time you returned to your duties, and I to mine, but for that long day we were simply together, not speaking much, basking in the surety of one another’s presence. I thought whatever darkness you so feared, we could act as one another’s lights. I thought we could stand against it, together. The sort of solutions children think of, that I have yet to grow out of. What creeping monster under a bed cannot be defeated by a light?

This is a sideway reference to one of the letters, where Alyosha talks about the prelate: “the sort of questions children ask.”

I talk about Alyosha/his beliefs in terms of light a lot, both in this fic and others–I mean obviously it’s a good set up in opposition to the Heat and the Dark, and a Samothes thing, but also I think because it reflects like, a kind of simplicity of faith that he has. How do you defeat great evil? Well, with light. Alyosha loves Kingdom Hearts, is what I’m saying. Or he did before he got stuck in the forge!!

I think, even now, that there are still embers within you, Tutor, waiting to be stoked. I remember the way you held onto me so tightly, the naked fear in your eyes. You care so much. You always have, reluctant as you are to show it. I know you want to save us. To save me. But I wish you would give some thought to what will be left of yourself. You, too, deserve saving. Yes, Tutor; even now.

Ugh this shit is sad. Like I know I wrote it but it’s sad? I think I find Arrell so tragic because I truly do think he cares, for the world and for Alyosha. He’s just really bad at it.

anyway, the only other important part of this fic is the time Arrell falls off a horse, which he deserves.

[thdorkmagnet]

Light of the Sun and Stars: Prologue

Figured I’d go ahead and start posting this on here, so here you go.

Summary: His whole life Marco Diaz has been raised by monsters, living under the cruel rule of their leader, Toffee. But one day Marco escapes into Mewni where he meets a magical princess and Mewman like himself, who begins teaching him all about her world. Together they will learn about life, love, and the lights within each of them, as they change their world forever.

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

Next Chapter>>

The fire blazed with an uncontrolled fury, as wood and cement alike crackled and disintegrated under the intense pressure of the blaze. The little house, once cozy and kept, now fell to ruin as flames consumed every part of the country home. Above the scene of destruction, a lone moon shone in the night sky, watching over the scene as a large pillar of smoke rose up from the flames to greet it and the rest of its bright shining companions. The flames in the house grew and grew, spreading through the once peaceful house, bathing all inside in its hot breath of destruction that wasted no time in devouring its prey. Finally, with a mighty crack the house gave in to the fires uncontainable will and collapsed in on itself, allowing itself to be consumed by the flames.

…

Farther from the blaze, a lone monster walked alone, his back to the smoke and ashes that were slowly rising up into the night sky, with no signs of stopping. The monster in question was a tall, muscular frog. Buff Frog, as many had become accustomed to calling him, wore a green military like top with a skull belt wrapped tightly around his waste, the muscles that made up his name sake visible underneath his shirt. His normally green body was, at the moment, covered head to toe in soot making his features difficult to make out in the darkness of the night. He panted heavily his eyes darting around constantly as he walked, every little noise making him jump.

The reason for his paranoia seemed to be the small bundle he held securely in his beefed up arms, wrapped up tightly in a soft, red blanket. Despite the muscles that coated every inch of the monster's body, he held the bundle gently, letting it rest safely against his chest. As he slowly pushed on through the forest, fighting branches and bushes alike out of his way, he was extra careful not to let the cloth covered object get hit with any stray branches as he battled his way through the unforgiving vegetation.

Eventually, the frog monster found the path of resistance lightening its hold as, with one more mighty push, he became freed from the forest's entrapment now standing in the middle of a silent clearing. He took a moment to catch his breath, checking over the bundle in his arms for any damages. Unlike the monster, the bundle was free from any soot or ash, the cloth clean and fresh in the monster's arms. As carefully as he could, he turned it over until a face could be made, peeking through the swaddling cloth. It was a boy, not even a year old, his tanned face peaceful as he slept. Small, tufts of brown hair rested on his forehead, his normally brown eyes closed tightly. A small mole was just under his left eye, but that was easily overshadowed by the twin suns on both cheeks, which even now glowed bright red in the darkness of the night. The cloth slowly rose and fell with his breath as he slept, the child's mind at peace unaware of the disaster only a short distance away and how close he had come to being a part of it.

The monster smiled at the cute, little bundle of joy he held, a smile of both joy and sadness. “No worry, Marco,” the monster said in a thick Russian accent. “I will keep you safe. You will live normal life with other Mewmans. This is promise.” The baby moved a little, snuggling closer to the monster, seeking his warmth and the frog smiled, pulling the blanket a little tighter around the baby.

Suddenly, the baby became uncomfortable, squirming around in his grip, no longer content in his dream-like state. Buff Frog was confused for a moment, trying to shush the squirming child, until he heard the snap of a branch behind him. Buff Frog turned, already on guard, holding Marco as close to him as possible. He squinted trying to see the source of the sound, until another monster emerged from the shadows. This one was a tall, lizard-like creature dressed in a finely made suit, one you would expect a business man or lawyer to wear. But this monster was neither.

Toffee, in fact, was the newest leader of the monsters and Buff Frog's boss, taking over after the old leader had passed away under “mysterious circumstances”. Very little was known about Toffee, due to his often distraught nature, showing very little emotion towards anything. Very few monsters were even sure how he had gotten his position, most of it hidden in rumors and secrets. But none the less, Toffee had assured the monsters that he would bring them into a new age of freedom and help them gain justice from the Mewmans who had stolen their land. And, so far, he had yet to go back on his word, keeping true to all his promises. In no time at all, Toffee had already begun making major changes in the monster's poor living conditions, providing his fellow monsters with food and essentials that many of them had gone without all their lives, building confidence and hope in their new leader and his intense methods.

But for all the good things Toffee had done for his fellow monsters, an equal number of bad were being inflicted on the Mewmans. With Toffee in power, no Mewman was safe. Monsters, who had once been submissive and domicile, were now openly attacking them, killing any group who wandered too far from the safety of the Butterfly Kingdom and into their land. And Toffee not only encouraged it but demanded that they act out more, to take back their land from the “monsters” who had stolen it in the first place. The attacks, for the moment, were random and not very common place, just the monsters defending what they knew was theirs. But there was no doubt the relations between the Mewnians and the monsters were about to take a turn for the worse, as Toffee continued to poison his monster's minds with hatred. And the monsters, tired of oppression and seeking prosperity, seemed to be buying his lies, as their contempt grew every day and acts of violence became more and more frequent.

Buff Frog, a trusted and well-known member of the monster's society, however, openly defied Toffee's plans coming to the defense of the Mewmans, claiming them to be capable of understanding and change. His words mostly fell on deaf ears, but a few monsters were getting confused at the frog's statements, still unsure what the right solution was.

And so here the two were face to face with what they considered their equivalent rival. Buff Frog stared open daggers at the lizard, while the more controlled Toffee, only gave him a look of passive indifference, a look he seemed to have mastered.

“Buff Frog fancy seeing you here this late at night. I hope you weren't planning on running off on me, now were you?” he said, his voice as emotionless as his face. Buff Frog felt his anger boil at the mere sight of the lizard, but he tried desperately to keep it in check, hoping to find a way out of this situation with the least amount of trouble.

“Toffee,” Buff Frog greeted, but the anger and suspicion in his tone was as obvious as his accent and Toffee gave the slightest hint of a smile, enjoying watching Buff Frog's armor break. “What are you doing here?”

` “I saw the smoke and came to see what I could do to help,” Toffee reasoned, gesturing to the smoke that still rose up from the distance. Buff Frog followed his gesture, but only gave him a glare in return, not believing a word the monster was saying.

“Really, you come to help,” Buff Frog asked accusingly, but Toffee showed no emotion over the frog's cold demeanor simply replying, “Yes of course, but it seems I was too late. A nasty fire broke out and completely destroyed the home I'm afraid, killing everyone inside. But it seems you were more successful than I,” he continued, his eyes coming to a stop at the still-kicking baby, his face morphing into one of dark hatred for a second, before immediately shifting back to the blank expression he normally wore. .

“Yes,” Buff Frog began, the suspicion never leaving his tone, keeping a secure grip on the struggling Mewman child, who was quite uncomfortable with Toffee's lingering gaze on him. “I see fire and manage to pull baby out before it harmed.”

“Curious, cause it seems that the boy has not a burn anywhere on him, nor any soot or ashes unlike yourself. It seems almost as if he was pulled out before the fire. But then, that would make no sense.” Buff Frog's eyes narrowed at the comment. Toffee and he held a glare between each other for a moment, before Toffee suddenly shrugged the subject off like it was nothing. “No matter,” he said, reaching out a hand to Buff Frog, making Marco scream even more. “Give me the boy so that I may... handle the situation.”

“Handle?” Buff Frog spat, unable to contain his hatred anymore. “You will kill boy.”

“I will do what's necessary,” Toffee replied, his voice suddenly becoming hard. “You know what our goal is, Buff Frog. You know what must be done.”

“He is innocent child-”

“It is a Mewman,” Toffee hissed, anger in his tone for the first time since the conversation started. Buff Frog jumped at Toffee's sudden rage, Marco's body shuddering against him. “There are no innocent Mewmans.”

Buff Frog stared at Toffee silently, his eyes dark with hatred as he softly whispered, “Perhaps then you would like to explain to other monsters why you kill Mewman baby. A baby under the name Diaz no less.”

Toffee's seemed visibly unsettled at the mention of the name, trying his best to remain expressionless. All monsters knew the weight the name carried. The Diaz's had dedicated their lives to peace amongst the monsters and had become a symbol of harmony between the two races. No monster would dare to indicate harm against any under that name, their family alone free from the monster's revenge, including Toffee's. Toffee considered his options. He had only recently become leader of the monsters and his lack of experience was beginning to show. Though the monsters followed him, they still seemed weary to give him their full support. He didn't have the same level of trust Buff Frog held amongst the monsters and if he was going to make any progress he needed Buff Frog. And things were even more shakey now than ever before, as recently a new threat to his position arose when that pipe-squeak Ludo had began wrangling his own group of monsters from under Toffee's nose, attempting to claim himself as leader. Though he doubted it would go anywhere, Ludo's name was well-known amongst the monsters and he needed Buff Frog's own influence to keep them under control. Moreso, Toffee's more violent methods were beginning to be off-putting to the other monsters, none having the stomach for the more radical approach to “freedom fighting”. His want to eradicate as many Mewmans as possible, putting many on shaky footing. Though they wanted change they weren't quite ready to start a war against the Mewmans. They were all new to killing, none really sure if his approach was a good one. If word got out that Toffee had killed a defenseless child, even a Mewman, it could be the end of all he had accomplished. As much as he hated Buff Frog, he had no choice but to comply.

Buff Frog knew he had won, as Toffee's face slipped back into its indifference once again, all anger and venom gone from the monster's features, his hands behind his back. “Very well,” Toffee said his voice showing just the slightest hint of anger beneath it. “You may keep the child. But you both now belong to me. You will remain by my side and do exactly as I ask.”

“No! I must raise Marco away from monsters-”

“If you wish for the boy to live, you will not question my decision. He will abide by my rules and remain so until I see fit. Do we have an understanding?”

Buff Frog felt his anger growing, his grip tightening on Marco just slightly. He and Toffee shared a gaze, one that seemed to last a lifetime, both hard and cold, both waiting for the other to yield. The only sound in the forest was the moans and grunts of the restless boy in the frog's arms.  Finally, Buff Frog looked away, barely whispering “Yes, is deal,” before drifting off into a guilty silence. He knew he had already broken his promise, but there was no way he could fight Toffee and still keep Marco alive. Toffee had bested him after all, he had lost.

“Good. Make sure to hurry home. It's not good for a child to be out this late at night. Who knows what could happen to him,” Toffee said, his voice just dripping with arrogance, before he turned on his heels and walked off, disappearing into the shadows from whence he came. As he did, Marco calmed down, managing to drift off to sleep once again.

Buff Frog stared at the child for a moment, feeling guilty, as he watched the boy slowly fall back into his peaceful sleep, unaware of any wrong in the world around him. Buff Frog felt a tear in his eye as he softly whispered, “I'm sorry.” Behind him the smoke continued to rise, like a signal in the night, alerting all of the disaster that had just occurred.

[okimargarvez]

ONLY YOU CAN DO IT

Original title: Only you can do it.

Prompt: Penelope is the only one who could do something for the team.

Warning: none.

Genre: family, comedy, romantic, humor, friendship.

Characters: BAU team, Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot, part 31 of 365 Garvez canon Life.

Legend: 💑🔦.

Song mentioned: none.

GARVEZ STORIES

Note: I don’t know when (the year) Rossi and Krystal were married for the first time.

ONLY YOU CAN DO IT

 The blond woman wipes the sweat from her forehead with her right hand. -Honey, will you hand me that screwdriver there? - she asks, turning just in the direction of the man. He hands her one of the tools scrupulously arranged in the red and blue box. She watches it carefully, then shakes her head and gives it back to him. -No, not this, the phillips-Head screwdriver.- he prevents her from turning back to what she is taking care of, holding her hand with the screwdriver. -Why are you looking at me like that?- Luke leaves her free and tries not to laugh.

He clears his throat several times. -Pen, you dress in pink, you have a body that overflows femininity in every curves, and...- and he is holding back, just because they are not the only ones in this room. -...do you know the difference between cross slot and slotted screwdriver?- it seems that he is asking her if she betrayed him, or if she killed someone. Something that he just can not conceive, no matter how hard he tries.

She shrugs, not understanding his perplexity. -Yes, of course.- perhaps she forgot to tell him about the university's times, when she spent afternoons after school, the day after the exam, when it's forbidden by the unwritten law of the students to start studying for the next, to handle with tools much more complex instruments than a mere screwdriver. -Why does it surprise you so much? Do not you find it sexy?- now they speak the same language.

Luke's lower lip bends slightly downwards and the usual crooked smile peeps over his face. -Uh, you have no idea how much.- they are making love with their eyes, they don't need to add anything else.

A voice breaks the spell. -But we can.- some giggles frame the comment of JJ.- As Rossi would say: you two, get a room!- she actually loves to see them interact, because they are very funny, much more than when they weren't together yet. The spark hasn't turned off at all.

-After having repaired that thing, though!- adds Tara, giving a slight nudge to the dark-haired woman sitting next to her on the sofa at home Alvez-Garcia. Matt moves away to avoid the boomerang effect.

-Right!- she gives her reason.

Penelope returns to focus on her work, her boyfriend comes back into his position, sitting on the floor near the toolbox, feeling a little like a nurse in the operating room, as when she had helped him cook the famous lasagna. He smiles at the memory and also takes a look of her shapely legs when the blonde moves all the weight on one side trying to reach a tiny screw. As much as he can see them naked most of the nights, smooth, intertwined with his, or wet just finished a shower, or worse, a stolen glance is always a stolen glance, has another value, is more exciting.

Even she knows that Luke is taking advantage of this situation, and indeed, she pushes a little bit to put him in trouble. Two people can play this game. She returns to sit up, feet under her bottom, and sighs. -Hey, it's not as simple as you think.- she says as she catches her breath.

Instantly start the choruses of encouragement, better than of those of the cheerleaders.

She doesn't think that they have studied this before, but the first to speak is the boss, or the federal agent with the highest rank. -Only you can do it, Garcia.- perfect, no pressure, thank you Em. She massages the neck for a moment, feeling all the muscles tense because of the uncomfortable positions in which she forced her body. Naturally Luke follows every movement and mentally thinks that he will massage her, when they will be alone.

A few seconds later echoes a second female voice. -It's true, you're the best.- She really believes it, but to be more persuasive, Dr. Lewis uses a technique she learned while studying for her second doctorate. Penelope shakes her head and bends over again, giving an interesting perspective of her ass to her boyfriend, the only one who can enjoy it, thankfully, because his back covers the view to others.

Adulation continues. -An absolute genius.- and this time the one who talks is a man. She is sure that if would she turned around, she would have seen a smile on the face of her friend, so she concentrates rather on the screw, tilting even more towards the floor, her head immersed in a thousand different cable. All remain for a moment with bated breath, waiting for something to happen.

When it becomes clear that nothing is not going to happen, her best friend decides to make her the best conceivable compliment. -Your skills and your intelligence are equal to those of Spencer.- the latter confirms, nodding, Penelope gets up just to grab another tool. -Thank you, JJ.- and she sneezes. Damned dust. She knew she should have worn the mask. Surely Luke will blame her, for this forgetfulness. She breathes deeply, then dives back into the tangle of cable, sockets and microchips.

They leave her work in peace for only a few minutes, then the questions start again. -You are almost there?- she blows to check that there are no residues of dirt that could compromise the functioning of what is repairing. If they weren't her best friends, she would have already killed them all. She already has the perfect weapon in her hands. Once Reid told her that a screwdriver can penetrate the flesh at least...

With one click, she sets the cover and inserts the first screw. -How much longer?- fortunately, she is too busy with what she is doing to recognize the author of the unforgivable gesture. She turns around, almost making Luke fall back from the fright.

-Guys!- she throws reproachful glances at everyone except him.-That's enough! You all distracting me.- finally silence and peace. -Here, I almost did.- she gives the last few turns to the screw, then positions in it in its place, under the television. For the first time after what seems like a century, she really stands up. Luke understands and inserts the plug. -Voilà.- she reaches the others on the sofa. He whispers something funny and clearly erotic, because she responds with -Thanks, Latin caliente.- they both chuckle.

JJ nudges her, while Emily shows herself more diplomatic. -Well, now you can also go upstairs to show how much you adore each other, because we have the VHS.- her eyes fixed on the screen.

-But sure, and I would have done all this effort just for you?- she protests but nobody is paying attention.

-We can take care of the other stuff even later.- Luke winks at her.

-Ok, now, however, silence.- someone says while the writing Las Vegas 1992 and a man dressed as Elvis appears in a quite bizarre chapel.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee​  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan

[nouies-moved]

BEST FICS OF 2017 picked by notchopsuey manips | other recs | rec page

#1. Runaway Land. 103k. Louis is sure he’s stumbled upon a secret, underground nightclub, though that is far from the truth. He’s also pretty sure he’s stumbled upon Apollo, which… isn’t very far from the truth, actually. Modern Greek mythology AU. #2. You Might Want to Marry My Husband. 24k. When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore. #3. Love's Truest Language. 48k. The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow. “Where's your order forms, then?” “I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him. Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

#4. got the sunshine on my shoulders. 124k. five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone. now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him. (or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

#5. Be with me so happily. 42k. Harry Styles may have had his doubts at first, but by the time the gates to the elephant sanctuary came into view he was one hundred percent positive. Louis Tomlinson hated his guts. Like hated, hated. Like loathed-him-on-sight hated. From what Harry could tell, he hadn’t even done anything close to insulting enough to warrant the disdain that was Louis Tomlinson’s default expression whenever he looked at Harry. It really wasn’t fair. Especially since he’d been lusting after the man from the second he’d laid eyes on that pretty, pretty face with those pretty, pretty eyes. Or ... the one where Harry Styles has a bad reputation and a heart of gold, and Louis Tomlinson wishes he wasn't so enchanted by boys who looked like Disney characters and wore shirts with bumble bees on them. [aka Louis is the director of the Styles Elephant Sanctuary and really doesn't want to babysit his funder's spoiled lay-about son for two months] #6. rivers 'til i reach you. 29k. Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is). #7. Fall At My Door. 29k. A-list actor Harry Styles and award-winning musician Louis Tomlinson have an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship, so whenever their busy professional lives happen to land them in the same city, they meet up. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. And that’s all it is. Until it isn’t. #8. When We Were Younger. 76k. About a week after Harry started visiting this particular chat room, he was watching some kid argue with the whole room about football, personally disinterested as he tipped a bag of crisps into his mouth. He happily chomped on the crumbs, taking a swig from a glass of Ribena to wash them down, glancing at the screen and very nearly spat the squash back out again. His heart was pounding wildly. The display icon of the argumentative newcomer had caught his eye, and not in a good way. He gulped as he clicked the picture, and when it popped up in full resolution, his heart nearly fell right out of his arse. - Sixteen year old Harry Styles’ world turns upside down when he logs on to gay teen chat to discover somebody has stolen his photos and used them as their own. #9. the wonderlands. 150k. "Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands." Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair. #10. Paint Me In A Million Dreams. 110k. Harry's one of Hollywood's biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There's just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry's in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood's biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese's next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity? In short, Harry's in love with someone and doesn't care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn't write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food. #11. Divide (series). 45k. Four AUs inspired by Ed Sheeran’s album “Divide”. #12. Brooklyn Saw Me. 28k. In the cold and unforgiving city of New York, Louis doesn't have a home and Harry wants to give him one. But as their heartstrings become increasingly intertwined, and the snow continues to fall, home is getting harder and harder to find. #13. Walk That Mile. 141k. Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.” “Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.” “Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes. - A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan. #14. Never Let Me Go. 55k. “Harry! I’ll tell you what,” Louis exclaims, clapping his hands together. There’s a big grin on his face. “If both of us are still single by your thirtieth birthday, we’ll marry each other.” Harry’s head snaps up, eyes widening. “What?” Harry and Louis have been friends forever, but they couldn't be more different. One night, with a little too much alcohol, they make a pact to marry in ten years if they're both still single. Now, one month before the deadline, Louis is willing to do whatever it takes to avoid ending up with his best friend. But is he, really? | Loosely inspired by The 10 Year Plan #15. Do Not Go Gentle. 70k. “This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.” For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust. Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back. “Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters. When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern. A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they? #16. Staring Across the Room. 26k. Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have. #17. Take Me Back to Where We Started. 27k. Harry and Louis haven't spoken since they broke up four years ago. As boarding school sweethearts they once spent every waking moment together, but now they can hardly stand to be in the same room. When their five year class reunion comes around, both boys decide against their better judgement to return and (hopefully) have a good time. The only problem is, they're both still hopelessly in love. Starring Harry as the petty ex, Louis as the new James Bond, Niall as a boy genius and fake boyfriend extraordinaire, and Liam and Zayn as two friends just trying to make it out of this weekend alive. #18. Safe and Sound (You'll Always Be). 58k. When a failed case and a guilty conscience leaves Harry more than a little lost, his boss presents him with a new, less taxing assignment to help him cope. An escape from all the madness is just what Harry needs to get his life back on track. It's just too bad his new client has a grin like the devil, a pair of electric eyes that Harry simply can't get over, and no intention whatsoever of letting him catch a break. #19. never mind the odds (i'm gonna try my luck). 59k. Louis Tomlinson is going to be the journalistic voice of his generation. He’s just waiting for his editor to realize it. For now, he’s stuck writing fluff pieces for the Life and Style section of London Now Newspaper. His latest assignment is more of the same rubbish: a profile of Harry Styles, plastic surgeon and one of London’s most eligible bachelors. Louis is intent on writing something smart and biting and unexpected; if it makes Harry look like an idiot, that’s just the price of good journalism. That is, until Louis gets to know Harry and realizes he might be kind of perfect. Featuring Louis as a writer/workaholic, Harry as a plastic surgeon with a heart of gold, Zayn and Niall as Louis’ colleagues and long-suffering best mates, and Liam as everyone’s favorite pediatric surgeon and Harry’s right-hand man. #20. Then We Talk Slow. 20k. The picture showed Harry smiling widely (with a fucking dimple) at the camera, his glossy brown curls situated artfully around his shoulders. Louis couldn’t see his whole outfit, but it seemed to consist of a pink, floral button-up with most of the buttons undone. Louis could also detect the dark outlines of tattoos on his chest, although he couldn’t quite make out what they were underneath the shirt. What he could make out was that his own heartrate seemed to have picked up significantly. Shit. This was so not good. Not only had Louis drunkenly sent messages in a deliberate attempt to interact with this man, he was now insanely attracted to him without ever having met him in person. Maybe Liam was right – drunk tweeting really was a horrible, rotten idea. A famous/non-famous AU in which Louis banters back and forth with his new record company on Twitter, only to find out that Harry is the man behind the tweets.