Partner Call

Hi everyone - long time, no see!

I'm looking for a few new writing partners. I'm not exactly sure how to go about this, because there's no test for compatibility except for to write, but if you'd like to look through the attached list of muses below and ping me (either ask or DM here on Tumblr), I'd love to chat.

I mostly write on Discord these days, but I'm also open to Skype. If you're wondering what my style is like, please feel free to scroll through this blog!

What's most important to me is chemistry and the willingness to be flexible, to ideate and talk things out and explore, to allow stories to have nuance and realism without glorification. I don't have much that's off limits, in terms of exploration.

I'm not looking for icons, formatting, or popular FCs. I'm looking for good writing and good chemistry. :) Whatever format is good with me - one liners, para, novel, whatever the moment calls for, ebbing and flowing.

If we don't click, that's okay! I just want to try this out, find some cool new people to write with. There are no fandoms that I won't write with, because all characterizations are different, but I've tagged a few below I'm extra interested in.

+18, NSFW, all that jazz.

MUSES

Napoleon Solo, Billy Hargrove, Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook, Song Jaerim

Reblog if you RP on Discord and it's okay for people to PM you for a plot.

tewwor‌:

The way the other spoke grated on his nerves even if he did have a point; one that stewed more confusion the longer this conversation went. “Of course I did. I disposed of both your weapons and your body.” Burned it to a crisp and then some. The ashes were already in a nondescript box; ready to be dumped out at whatever location he would go to next. 

Unfortunately, for the stranger rather than himself, the gun remained where it was. “Why were you- are you here?” Normally, he wouldn’t even think about asking questions, but he was still convinced that he had killed the other man thoroughly. Bas was always more of an ‘act now and talk later’ sort of guy. Well, except he never really spoke unless it was absolutely needed and/or if he was griping about something. 

“... My body,” Solo intoned with doubt heavy in his voice. “My body, which is... not the one I’m currently inhabiting? Perhaps you should add a trip to the psychiatrist along with your eye doctor.” He wriggled his fingers with a meaningful look, his head tilting to the side. When he lowered it he tucked both hands away into the pockets of his slacks. 

“I was here because I needed stitches, and I figured a morgue was as good a place as any to find antiseptic, needle, and thread. And thank you very much for allowing me to explain myself before putting on through my chest.” Shooting Bas an irritated look, he began to wander. “I wasn’t here to cause any sort of damage. Say, what sort of mortician are you, anyways, hm? I haven’t known many doctors, of the dead or otherwise, who carry guns and shoot strangers in the night.”

timeforgcd‌:

         Earlier that morning he’d been given a file.  Steve still wanted to serve his country and the program didn’t want to let him go.  Yet.  If he caused enough ruckus that could easily change.  Loud tended to get silenced one way or the other.  For a variety of reasons.  In this instance Steve surmised people might just get tired of hearing his need to be back on the battlefield much like they did when he was younger.  At least for now he could try to be content with the fact that they wanted him to train a new generation of pilot.  Though, once he opened said file Steve had to admit that his jaw tightened.

         Napoleon Solo was being released into the custody of the jaeger program to serve at least part of his jail sentence.  The details were practically non-existent.  Having spent a little time in jail himself Steve knew not to be too judgmental but considering Solo’s original sentence was for fifteen years the only assumption to be made was that he didn’t get into a bar fight or punch someone in a back alley to prove a point.  If the crime involved hurting innocent people there would be some problems but Steve would reserve that judgement for later.

         When the door opens the muscles between Steve’s shoulders tighten.  The man who walks inside is not at all what he’d been expecting.  Blue eyes flicker across the cotton suit.  His head cants to the side, thinking.  If that muscle was made for more than just looking pretty than there would be less work ahead of him than he originally assumed.  Like other things, that assessment would have to wait.  Just not as long.  “ Mr. Solo, “ Steve inclines his head.  “ So, you’d like to be a pilot. “  Arms cross over his chest.  Logically, the fastest way to assess where the man’s skill lay would be to see first hand.  “ Let’s see what you can do. “

“Like is a strong word, Captain Rogers,” Solo intoned with a brief, charming smile. “But, I had to choose something, and the test said I was best suited to being a pilot. I’m more than willing to do my very best.” Napoleon’s made an art of making himself convincing. He smiles, broad and boyishly charming, and strolls forward across the padded floor to extend his hand for a shake. 

“I was in Afghanistan for a few years, so I’ve got arms training, and basic combat. And I’m very good at opening safes.” Adding a self-effacing tinge to his smile, he shrugs. “Good enough that I was sent here instead of being locked up. Any use for a thief in the fight against the Breach? I’ve got quick reflexes.”

He’d find a way out, he decides. The cotton uniforms are atrocious, and so far the people he’s met have been sanctimonious and condescending. The florescent lights of the facility make his eyes ache. It won’t be long until he’s found a way out of here and to one of his hidden stashes. He’ll be out of the country before they even realize they’ve lost him. 

Solo’s eyes remain blankly friendly and impossible to read as he keeps his hand extended to shake. 

strangcrdoctor‌:

No-nonsense, he says, knowing full well that my life is almost entirely nonsense. I just happen to be exceptionally good at handling it with some manner of patience and…  we’ll say flare. And by patience and flare that usually means with intensive study and lightly on fire… more often than not.

“Oh, so it’s not just the attitude that makes me fit the part, it’s the gray too. Lovely, good to know that we won’t be having to go to a quartermaster just to make sure I don’t look like I’m dying the gray away. What’s a little fake scar when superficial vanity says everything about a man anyone could hope to know?” he muttered to his coffee as he glanced down at the photo. It was horribly grainy, but otherwise the likeness between the two of them was somewhat startling. Pale eyes, lightly wavy hair, tall and lean. There was just the niggling matter of that scar across the bridge of the actual Billany’s hawkish nose. Well, I guess we’re similar in the nose too so I shouldn’t judge too harshly….

“Oh, well that’s lovely information I definitely don’t have and won’t take with me to my grave. Thanks for that.” Though it was useful, knowing that they at least weren’t going to run into the real McCoy somewhere out there on their as yet tenuous and dangerous sounding mission. That didn’t mean, however, that they weren’t possibly going to come across some OSS agents who could be in the know - that was always the problem with dealing with secrecy: one had to keep very good track of the lies, and one could never quite account for the lies other people did and did not know.

He cast the other man a withering glance, but nonetheless let himself be imbued by a bit of the other man’s confidence. Part of putting on the act was believing it, and the first step of that was suspending your own disbelief before stepping into another man’s shoes. Regardless of whether or not the dead man would ever walk in them again himself.

 “I would never turn you down a favor, and that speaks a lot to both my understandings of friendship and self-preservation.” But if he were going to be honest, he at least trusted Napoleon’s attention to detail implicitly. His willingness to share completely, maybe not, but he didn’t trust Wong in that regard either so it was hardly a judgement. “So, why impersonate Billany anyway? Are we infiltrating, inveigling? Stealing?”

Napoleon settled back to allow Stephen space and time to process what was being asked of him. A reluctant operative was never a successful operative, and while Solo greatly resented how he’d come to find his position in the agency, he prided himself in his remarkable competency and ability to assess an individual’s likely motivations. If he’d been born a more moral person perhaps he would have sought it out himself instead of being leashed into the lifestyle. 

As it was, Solo did his job and did it well in the name of keeping his sentence kept to fifteen years, to ensure that, in five years, he could walk out of that Langley building and never look back. That, and making himself reasonably indispensable encouraged a certain amount of turning heads when it came to his greedy fingers.    

He’d rather gotten lost in the nuance of his espresso by the time Stephen spoke again, and Solo was pleased to find that the good Doctor remained intrigued. It really would be a difficult thing to pull off without him. 

“Well, we need access to his safety deposit box. The wrinkle, in this instance, is that his safety deposit box is behind a lobby security desk, three locked doors, and an ocular identification. It cannot be opened without the fingerprint of a manager. So, as you might imagine, that knocks out the possibility of me just...” He wiggled his fingers vaguely. “Making my way in and helping myself. We need you. We’ve got the list of his chosen security questions and all the answers, and with a brain like yours I wouldn’t think memorizing the answers will be all that difficult, and we’ve got Billany’s key, which is really remarkable. So, we’re just going to walk through the front doors and get you to open your safety deposit box, empty it, and close out the account.”

sovietperil‌:

          illya wants to argue, to tell solo that he would have been just fine if he hadn’t interfered and broken his concentration, that he doesn’t work well with that irritating american drawl buzzing away in his ear.  but he remains largely quiet, pink at the ears, only managing to grumble out,   ❛   I had it,   ❜   as his partner popped the lock.

          his lip curls as he shoulders past the american, brow scrunched in irritation.  he’s prepared when, suddenly, the light disappears, and he lifts a hand to trace the wall beside them, anchoring himself in the blackness, taking care to listen carefully to the passing of footsteps.  there’s little he can do to ignore their proximity except to focus, and he does not realize just how long he has been holding his breath until he allows it to escape through his teeth, well after the sound of footsteps have faded down the hallway.

          ❛   I think it is clear.   ❜

“Do you think it’s clear like you thought you could pick that lock in under a minute?” Solo whispers in return, and doesn’t bother to hide his amusement. He pats Kuryakin’s shoulder with exaggerated condescension. “Come on, Peril. Do try to keep up.”

There is a particular kind of pleasure in rankling his new partner. Napoleon wants to dig his hands underneath Kuryakin’s hard outer shell and sink his fingers into the sensitive flesh underneath, to feel its vulnerability and fallibility, the beating heart underneath his icy exterior. 

Illya Kuryakin is not the perfect loyal soldier he makes himself out to be. The itch to strip away his layers and leave him naked and kneeling before him is irresistable. 

Close Quarters; Kuryakin&Solo

PSA;

x. Probably should have put this up a while ago, but! I am very much still around, I still love Napoleon, but I just started a new job and I’m kinda swamped/exhausted. However! I am NOT abandoning my threads, because I really love the threads I currently have. So, if you’re tagged here, I promise I am coming back to you, and thank you for your patience. 💖 And if I forgot you please shoot me a message!

@strangcrdoctor - 1960′s verse, and do I owe you something else?

@tewwor - Ghost!Verse

@timeforgcd - Pacific Rim 

@forgedasset - I owe you a starter! , Askbox

@seeksredempticn - Smuuuut. 

@sovietperil - Close Quarters

@gentlegrace - Foreign Places

@madebythejungle - I owe you a starter!

tewwor‌:

The way the other spoke grated on his nerves even if he did have a point; one that stewed more confusion the longer this conversation went. “Of course I did. I disposed of both your weapons and your body.” Burned it to a crisp and then some. The ashes were already in a nondescript box; ready to be dumped out at whatever location he would go to next. 

Unfortunately, for the stranger rather than himself, the gun remained where it was. “Why were you- are you here?” Normally, he wouldn’t even think about asking questions, but he was still convinced that he had killed the other man thoroughly. Bas was always more of an ‘act now and talk later’ sort of guy. Well, except he never really spoke unless it was absolutely needed and/or if he was griping about something. 

“My body?” Napoleon’s brows rose in a facsimile of surprised disbelief, an automatic response to the genuine and dismayed surprise he really felt. “I’m here because I’m injured and I’d hoped to find supplies to clean myself up before heading on my way.” His hand going to his side, Napoleon felt for the tell-tale pain of what was sure to be a nasty bruise around the gash in his side. He felt nothing. His eyes flicked back to Bas. 

“You did shoot me, didn’t you?”

Napoleon waited to feel a rise in his heartbeat. He should be panicking, or at the very least having a physical response to the oddity of the situation. He had been shot, that much they both seemed sure of, and it seems unlikely he would have survived. Even if he had, he’d hardly be in any shape to sit up, let alone feel reasonably chipper. Any yet here he was. 

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat. 

“I feel like I’ve been betrayed.” (i just imaged griff saying this trying to be funny when he actually did get betrayed. but like in a theatrical way yknow)

Hurt Sentence Starters

“Well, Griffin, that’s just the name of the game, now, isn’t it.” Solo snapped his ruger back into its holster. “Now, be a dear and try not to escape until I’m out of here, or you’ll blow the whole mission, which would be an awful hassel. Alright?”

“Please just leave me alone.” (bas :3c)

Hurt Sentence Starters

“You’re as aware as I am that I can’t. Believe me, if I were capable, if I weren’t cursed to follow you until the ends of time, Bas, I would be spending my afterlife on the beaches of Italy.” His voice takes a turn from regretful to pointed before he adds on, “I would dearly love to leave you alone. But you shot me, and so now you’ve got to deal with me.”

someone give me “you live in the apartment across the hall and you’re so fucking hot but i get so awkward around you even though you act completely normal and i stutter every.time. you’re out of my league anyway but then one night my stupid roommate locks me out and i forget my key and you see me sitting the hallway so you invite me in. and obviously i say yes but holy crap what is happening” plot pretty pls

Hurt Sentence Starters

Adjust pronouns as necessary.

“I’ll never forgive you.” “You did this to me.” “I can’t believe you.” “I trusted you!” “Please just leave me alone.” “I’ve had enough.” “I hate you.” “I wish we had never met.” “Who do they/you think they are?” “I don’t deserve this.” “You used me.” “I’m not ready.” “You’re not ready.” “How can you say that?” “I don’t even know who you are anymore.” “I don’t want to talk.” “I feel like I’ve been betrayed.” “You/They did this to me.” “What did I ever do to you/them?!” “I can’t take this anymore.” “Haven’t you said/done enough?”

So many of my mutuals on here I wanna vibe with but i’m shy so i’ll just use my psychic powers to send my love out to ya

Smash that heart for a short starter!

thenewfist replied to your post “Biting or Sucking?”

Bucky vc: "I'm included in those select people, right?"

“Of course, Bucky. There’s no one else I’d want to be marked by.” He flashes a wink.