VIOLENCE IS THE ANSWER

It never fails. [ James Valdez from Queen of the South. Written by Walden. ]

[onlylifeordeath]

Welcome to my RP blog for  JAMES VALDEZ of QUEEN OF THE SOUTH!

RULES // HEADCANONS // MEMES // IMPORTANT NOTE // SEASON 5 OPENER  

Think you’ve seen me before? Or you’re someone wondering what blogs are mine?

I try to post this update every now and then because, as some of you know, I am a Disaster™

My current blog list (whether the blog is currently active or the muse is LOUD and I would like to get them rolling) is below the cut.

QUEEN OF THE SOUTH

@violenceistheanswer, @notagamblingman, @beingacabronisachoice, @theheartbeatofnola, @hernameiswar, @heknowssomebody​, and @whosthecaptainnow​

STAR WARS

@untilnolongerprofitable​, @lightinhersmile​, and @nowandtilthespire​

[ There are other Star Wars, but these are the loudest at present. I also have several OCs, Cobb Vanth, Migs Mayfeld, Maul, Kit Fisto, and several others. If you have any interest in any of those, just let me know as they may perk up with plotting. ]

ONCE UPON A TIME IN WONDERLAND

@lovebeyondproof​ { Alice & Cyrus }

PRIDE & PREJUDICE

@onlytolerable and @perfectlyamiable​

MISCELLANEOUS DISNEY/DREAMWORKS

@roidestruands​, @heretherebedevils​, @neverhadafriendlikeme (under construction), and @alivingdarkness​

MISCELLANEOUS CHARACTERS

@glamglitterandgoblins​, @amonstrousphantom​, @ofthedeathdance​, @buscarparamivida​, and @demmedxelusive​

[onlylifeordeath]

PICKING UP THE PIECES

[ This is a brief-ish one-shot following the events of 2.12, as written by me. // tw; blood tw; injuries ]

The train yard went bad in a way that he had not anticipated.

He never would have suspected that Teresa Mendoza would align herself with a street gang. He never would have suspected that she would be able to marshal such firepower on such short notice. He never would have suspected that she would attack them or––more specifically––James as the two had seemed friendly. At least, they did before Chicago.

What’s more, he never would have suspected that she would be able to formulate a plan that could rival James.

Almost.

Charger had never suspected.

But James had.

[ more below the cut ]

Charger had thought it overkill to painstakingly reproduce El Santo’s mark on bags identical to those containing the actual coke. He thought it bordering on the ridiculous to fill them all, bag for bag, with lactose powder. It seemed too much time and effort for an impossible outcome.

‘ Nothing is impossible. Especially when it involves Teresa. She made mistakes, and now she’s desperate. Do you remember what desperate people are capable of? ‘cause I do. ’

He remembers. Of course he does. The things they saw aren’t easily forgotten, if ever they could be. Even years later, he still jolts awake, screaming on the worst nights, waking disoriented, confused by his bed and by the lack of sand and by the quiet.

So, he remembers, but he hadn’t fully grasped exactly how desperate Teresa was or how clever she could be if given reason and opportunity.

But, of course, James knew. He knew and he prepared for it, planned for it as he plans for any foreseeable complication and outcome. The man is, as ever he has been, meticulous.

When the impossible had proved possible after all, it was James’ precautions that prevented disaster. At the end of the night, they were in the clear, both the cash and the coke in their possession and under heavy guard at the secondary location James had selected so that they could prepare for transport to Devon Finch.

With everyone else already returned, the next time the door opens, Charger turns toward it with a smile, ready to congratulate James on his victory, but… all it takes is a glance to know that it wasn’t without a price. The only questions are: how high a price? and had James been prepared to pay it?

His smile fades to an expression of thinly-veiled concern, but he merely watches and waits for James to issue the newest orders, even with his face half-covered in blood. His own, if Charger had to venture a guess.

When the orders are given, he bides his time until at last James retreats to his makeshift office.

Then he makes his approach, first aid kit tucked under one arm.

As he expected, James moves around the small space, gathering what he would require for the next step of the plan. The thought that a first aid kit might be one such necessity either has not yet occurred to him or, more likely, it is being deliberately ignored in favor of more ‘pressing’ matters.

Some things never change.

“James, you’re bleeding,” he states, so matter-of-fact, from his place in the doorway, leaned against the frame.

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

There is no sharpness to the retort, none of the irritation that had turned swiftly to anger earlier in the night. There isn’t even the disappointment that had been directed with the lethal precision of a sniper at him after he lost Camila.

No, there is only a familiar emptiness to his voice and to his eyes, a fact Charger notices despite James’ deliberate attempts to avoid meeting his stare. This he has seen too many times from James, and he knows the sorts of triggers that cause it.

He will need to proceed with caution.

“You are,” he affirms, as though he needs to do so.

With his usual nonchalant, even stride, he crosses to the wooden table currently functioning as a desk and he drops the first aid kit on it. Briefly, James’ gaze flicks to the offending bag before he continues his current task.

“I’m busy.”

“Somehow I think this will not stop the blood.”

“It can wait.”

“James.”

There is an edge to his own voice, a note of command that finally gets James to look at him. There are hurricanes raging in those dark eyes now and for a moment Charger thinks he may have a fight on his hands. He mentally prepares himself for the battle that seems will ensue, braces himself to weather James’ wrath for a third time in one night.

Yet… just as quickly as the storm surges… it dissipates and James bows his head and exhales a heavy breathe before he all but slumps into the chair behind him, whatever tension that had been keeping him on his feet abandoning him. Still Charger does not move, not until he sees that almost imperceptible nod.

Then and only then does he step around the desk to take a seat upon it, pulling the med kit to him and flipping open the flap.

As he gathers his materials, he squints and cants his head to one side, trying to get a better look at the damage.

“… What happened?”

“FUCKing Pote happened,” James answers and there’s a petulance with which the words are spoken that might have drawn a laugh from Charger in any other situation. This, however, is not it.

“He tried to blow my head off through a window with a shotgun.”

Charger winces at that, realizing that must be the cause for the scatter pattern of what cuts and scrapes he can discern from the blood. The glass must have exploded with the shot, flying through the air as shrapnel and catching him.

It’s a miracle that the damage hadn’t been worse, or that the shattered pieces were all that had caught him––considering how protective Pote seems to be of Teresa.

Charger watches as stormy eyes once more flash to the ground, his hands clasped, pinching at the skin between thumb and forefinger on the other hand. It’s an old tell. A sign of agitation. A sign that he’s trying to ground himself, to remind himself to breathe, to focus, to center.

He won’t push him.

For the moment, he says nothing as he sets out his supplies exactly as he likes them, ready to be used as he needs them. Next he reaches for the lamp on the other end of the desk, bringing it closer and removing the shade to allow more light.

When he does speak, he remains to the matter at hand, his tone softer now, not wanting to further agitate him.

“Hey. C’mon. Look at me so we can clean this blood off your face, okay?”

It takes a few beats longer than he would like, but finally James raises his head again, though his eyes remain quite decidedly downcast.  [ He can’t hide behind his sunglasses now. ]

Charger adjusts the lamp and then careful yet firm fingers turn his face to better illuminate the wounds.

He lets out a low whistle at the sight before him and clicks his tongue. Pote had not been playing games.

James was fortunate indeed.

“Seems like your cheek got the worst of it, but the glass got your forehead and your neck, too… and… your ear, pero… Creo que es solamente una herida menor… ”

With that, he turns and takes up the cleaning solution and pours it onto a cloth… then he looks at James, expectant.

The fact that it takes as long as it does continues to concern him, as does the fact that when James does look at him––apparently realizing that Charger hadn’t moved to the next step yet––he seems puzzled for a moment before the reason occurs to him.

There’s the slightest wry upturn to a corner of his mouth despite himself, and his right hand moves to grasp the edge of the seat. Charger snorts but at last begins to clean.

Charger focuses on his task, occasionally offering a brief but sincere sorry when he would aggravate one of the scrapes and cause James to wince.

He notices when James starts watching him. Someone would have to be oblivious––he’s convinced––to not notice James looking at them, always with such intensity as though by that alone he might understand them, might read their minds.

He doesn’t ask, however. James will either say something or he won’t.

… but Charger is certainly relieved when he does.

“… I was a mile out of line tonight, Lorenzo,” he begins with a sigh, and Charger—Lorenzo—knows from years of experience that if his face wasn’t currently cut to hell, he’d have dragged his hand over it. As it is, his jaw clenches, and he looks away for a brief moment, and Lorenzo doesn't push for any explanation. He’s moderately certain of the reason for the statement. He can wait patiently for James to get his thoughts together and to continue at his own pace.

“… There was nothing else you could have done about Camila…” he says with a single shake of his head and a frown as he looks to him once more. “There were too many of them. If you had interfered, the only difference to the outcome is that you’d have gotten yourself killed. You made the right call, and I was wrong.”

“Es been a rough day, hermano. A rough few days,” Lorenzo answers with a shrug and that’s that. So far as he is concerned, there is nothing to forgive, and there’s nothing more to say about it.

Another matter, however………

He considers, debates, tries to decide whether or not to give voice to what he suspected from the moment James entered the building.

“……… Did you see her?”

The effect of the question is immediate.

His jaw clenches once more and his shoulders tense, expression hardening. Not certain that he’ll receive an answer—or that he’ll like it even if he does—he applies a sizable bandage to James’ cheek and then he stands and begins to clean up the mess.

“… She was there,” James admits at last, and there’s that sharpness again.

“… An’ you talked to her? Wha’ did she say?”

“She wanted me to betray Camila. To throw away my reputation and everything I helped to build.”

“An’ she thought that you would?” Lorenzo questions in disbelief, eyebrows rising. “Wha’ did she try to offer you?”

There’s a sneer at that and James releases the edge of the chair so that he can cross his arms over his chest instead, a spectacular scowl on his face.

“She goes from smuggling cocaine to an airport to thinking she has some revolutionary, new ideas for how to run the cocaine industry, and she thought that I would betray Camila to work for her.”

“¿de veras?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“An’ that’s all she said? I mean, Camila no es perfecta, pero, she just said ‘betray Camila an’ come work for me because I know better’?”

His question is met by a heavy silence, and that is Lorenzo’s answer that, no, that had not been all that she said, but as the quiet stretches, it becomes clear to him that James is not inclined to share whatever else had been discussed.

He redirects.

“Pues… Anyway. What’s next?”

“… We follow through on the deal with Devon and get El Santo paid while we chase down leads on Camila.”

Once more, Lorenzo hesitates before he speaks, uncertain if he should poke at this particular sore spot again, but he can’t seem to stop himself. The interaction hadn’t rattled James for no reason, and having to do this to her didn’t leave him hollowed out because he hates her and doesn’t care what happens.

Lorenzo just wants to verify that he’s thought this through to its likely conclusion, as he would any other scenario, that his anger—and whatever else might be swirling beneath the surface—isn’t blinding him to potential consequences.

“…… And Teresa?”

“What about her?”

“Well, we have the cash and the coke, so… what if she tries to take her shipment to Devon?”

He watches as James huffs a laugh and shakes his head, almost baring his teeth in his agitation.

“Regardless of how much she thinks she wants to be in this game, she won’t take lactose powder to Devon. Even she wouldn’t make that kind of gamble. She knows what he’s capable of. It would be suicide.”

It’s a reasonable enough answer, and Lorenzo can almost let it go.

Almost.

“… An’ you’re sure she’ll test it?”

That… that gives James pause, and it’s evident when that line appears between his eyebrows and his arms uncross… if only that he can clasp his hands, trying to appear relaxed.

He’s pinching at his hand again.

“… Of course she will,” he says at last, but there’s a bluster to it that makes Lorenzo wonder who he’s telling.

“She may not be cut out for the business, but she’s smart. And she’s observant. How many times has she seen us test the product? Every shipment, right?”

“That’s right.”

Lorenzo’s agreement does not smooth those lines from his brother’s face. Now that the doubt is there, it seems determined to remain.

“……… She knows better. She’ll check it.”

But what if she doesn’t?

Another sound that’s just a little too sharp to be a laugh follows.

“She's probably already figured out that it’s fake.”

She has Pote with her. Pote will make sure she checks it.

“She and Pote will be pissed, but they’ll regroup.”

But what if she doesn’t check it?

“And if she is serious, then she’s already planning her next move, trying to find the next pawn in her game. She’ll be fine. She always is.”

[djoswiftie]

you better watch out. you better watch out. you better watch out. YOU BETTER WATCH OUT.

[onlylifeordeath]

I posted 670 times in 2021

85 posts created (13%)

585 posts reblogged (87%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 6.9 posts.

I added 1,307 tags in 2021

#|| one day is hell; the next day's the dawn || { about james } - 316 posts

#|| every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man || { images } - 210 posts

#|| if they come for you i'll be ready || { james & teresa } - 185 posts

#memes - 181 posts

#starters - 118 posts

#|| brunette; pretty; half as big as a minute || { images; teresa } - 112 posts

#|| out of coffee || { ooc } - 59 posts

#duskregrets - 54 posts

#|| pero contigo siempre estaré || { teresa } - 45 posts

#|| a little outside perspective || { headcanons } - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 108 characters

#// and just like it took teresa kissing him for him to acknowledge/get over his denial that he cares for her

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

@duskregrets​ { Teresa } asked: ❛  if  i  were  you ,   i  wouldn’t  love  me  neither .  ❜

Were it any other time, any other circumstance, it would be an exceedingly odd statement to be spoken with her arms wrapped around him, holding him close to her, his head on her chest and his own arm wrapped around her.

Were it any other time, he wouldn’t still feel the sharp stab of pain in his chest at the words or the weight of what Devon had so kindly exposed at the winery: Teresa had used him from the start. 

I won’t ask why. Camila’s right hand man. It was the smart play.

James had spoken the truth last night. He perfectly understands why she did it. Hell, in some strange, maybe twisted way, he can respect it, the cleverness, the drive. She was in a bad place, she was vulnerable, and that was the surest way to hedge her bets. Because if there’s anything he knows with certainty about Teresa, she’s a survivor, and she did what she had to so that she could survive.

But… It wasn’t as simple as that.

It started that way, but now…

But now,  w h a t ?

I haven’t been faking anything with you for a while now.

If he can believe her––and how desperately he wants to––her own game turned against her. She started out manipulating him, and then… it wasn’t a manipulation anymore. 

It was real. 

And now, here she is, quite literally naked and vulnerable, and he can hear her heartbeat just beneath his ear… Here she is, still holding him, telling him that she couldn’t blame him if he doesn’t love her.

Slowly, carefully, he begins to move, though not away. Any distance might shatter them both now, when their souls are so completely intertwined, one with the other, and certainly after the revelations of last night. No, he needs the closeness, and so he simply shifts to one side a little that he can prop up on his elbow to look at her. His other arm still at her waist, calloused fingertips slowly begin to trace aimless patterns over the rises and dips of her ribcage, his eyes wander over her for a moment before seeking her gaze, his own a tumult of hurt and need and wariness… something more than that. Something so much more.

“… I do,” he says at last and, somehow, the words are deliberate and his voice is steady even if a little thick, a little heavy. 

See the full post

7 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 22:23:46 GMT

#4

@duskregrets​ { Teresa } said: “I know it’s supposedly bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding— but how do I look?”

“That’s what they say and yet here you are anyway,” he answers in mild [ and amused ] exasperation, eyes closing. “I’m not going to look. I’m not.”

While not superstitious himself, after all, there is a custom to these things––a certain way in which they’re supposed to be done––and if they’re going to do this right then they’re going to do this right.

7 notes • Posted 2021-05-14 03:50:58 GMT

#3

𝟗  𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄  𝐓𝐀𝐆  𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

last song.  War of Hearts… Ruelle currently reading.   Pride & Prejudice… Jane Austen currently watching.  Nothing at this precise moment, at least not literally, but I am in a constant state of watching/rewatching Queen of the South. Even as their teasers and trailers continue to infuriate me. Also Superstore. Both shows are @duskregrets‘ fault. last movie.   Night at the Museum

tagged.  @sheresists tagging.  @duskregrets, @alongtimeago, @dryadalismagicae, @heavensliight , @topsyturvypuppeteer, @rehandles, @intensediscipline, @charlatanjane, @copadjacent 

7 notes • Posted 2021-04-04 02:28:21 GMT

#2

a starter for  @duskregrets​ { Teresa }

He doesn’t remember exactly when the world went dark. One moment, he had been desperately trying to focus on Teresa’s face beyond the fog and the next… nothing. 

The return to consciousness is a slow, arduous, and not exactly steady climb. He remembers vague flashes of almost wakefulness. He remembers pain. A ragged sound… had that been him screaming? He has a fleeting thought of fighting, struggling to no avail. A quiet voice, assuring him it would be okay. He’s doing well. It’s almost over. He doesn’t remember anything more for a while. Just snatches of conversation.   

“—as close. Barely—“ 

 “—e wake up?” 

“—t and see.  It’s––”

He loses track of time. Doesn’t know how long it is before he has some idea once more that there’s a world outside the darkness. 

Fingers twitch, eyelids flutter, and then there’s a soft but rather disgruntled sound that precedes bleary brown eyes peeking out from under dark eyelashes, framed by skin that is clammy and far too pale. Those eyes wander the room, aimless and unfocused before they shift to his arm, the feeling of an IV drawing his attention… Of course… then his gaze moves to just beside his arm and his breath catches, a whole gordian knot of emotions tangling up in his chest, knotted so tight around his heart that it almost hurts. 

It’s been almost a year. At the start of his repayment to Devon, he had hoped––almost every day––that it wouldn’t be too much longer. That he would be another day closer to being able to return, maybe to tell her everything and hope she would understand. To let her know that she wouldn’t have to worry about Finch now.

But then the days drew on and he felt heavier and heavier and heavier, and it wasn’t long before he doubted if he would return at all, even if Devon did release him. The things he had done… the blood on his hands… How could he ever work for her again? How could he ever stand in the same room as her again, look her in the eye, and pretend that he could ever again be what she thought he could be… 

And yet… here he is… and here she is, head against her arm as it rests on the bed, and––

He swallows hard, a ghost of an almost smile appearing despite himself even as mistiness fills his eyes.

Her other hand holds his own.

See the full post

7 notes • Posted 2021-03-28 23:54:15 GMT

#1

I do not have words for my level of anger anymore. I am beyond language now.. 

I’ve said it before that I am canon divergent. 

I would like to now state for the record that I DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE SEASON 5. NOT AT ALL. NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT.

They have pushed me too far with this episode. Every single week’s episode has gotten worse and not in a “OH MAN. HOW ARE THEY GOING TO RESOLVE ALL OF THIS CONFLICT?!” way. More in a “HOW COULD THEY WRITE THESE CHARACTERS SO BADLY?! DID THEY FORGET HOW TO WRITE THEM DURING THE BREAK?!” kind of way. 

I am just SAD and I am UPSET for my babies, ESPECIALLY James. They deserve better. @duskregrets​ baby deserves better. The FANS deserve better. I hate that the show and the writers have refused to give that to us, but have the nerve to hype each week’s episode like they’ve really DONE SOMETHING.

The only thing they’ve done is kill my enjoyment of a show that I was really looking forward to returning, and that sucks. I get they got backed into a corner by being told Season 5 was the Last Season, but don’t tell me it’s going to be Epic and then give me an Epic Disaster instead.

That’s it. That’s where I stand.

8 notes • Posted 2021-04-29 04:36:26 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

@duskregrets, because you need to be tagged. This was your fault.

[sn4pe]

[wnq-writers]

She was reckless. An unyielding storm. And you’d count your lucky stars if you got caught up in her.

Nicole Torres  (via wnq-writers)

[aromanticgcallen]

Things I Should Be Doing

so many

Things I Am Not Currently Doing

any of that

[screenshotsofdespair]

[horrificmemes]

Send me 🔪 to put a knife to my muse’s throat and see how they react.

[buzzin-rp-memes]

Comfort Starters

Feel free to change how you see fit!

Sentence Starters

“Come on, let’s get you away from there.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

“You look like you could use a hug.”

“Don’t listen to them. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Let it all out.. I’m here for you.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here for you okay?”

“You look down. This calls for cuddles.”

“A kiss here. A kiss there... Ah! There’s the smile I’ve been hoping to see!”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“You’re safe now, I promise.”

“I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you.”

“You okay? I could tell they were bothering you..”

“I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry, _.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re allowed to cry.”

“You have every right to feel that way.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

“I thought you could use some space.”

“I’ll give you as many hugs as you need, okay?”

“Can I get you anything? Tea? Hot chocolate?”

“You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Is something on your mind?”

“If they’re bothering you, I’ll go tell them something.”

“No, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I got you all of your favorite snacks.”

“No, you don’t need to blame yourself.”

“You’ll get through this and I’ll be here every step of the way.”

“You have every right to be upset.”

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I’m here to listen.”

“Did you have a nightmare? Do you want to talk about it?”

“How about we go on a walk. It might calm your nerves.”

Actions

[Hug] Sender pulls receiver into a hug.

[Tears] Sender wipes tears from receiver’s face.

[Kisses] Sender gives receiver many kisses all over.

[Cuddle] Sender cuddles with receiver after a rough day.

[Drink] Sender makes receiver something to drink.

[Visit] Sender shows up at receiver’s place shortly after learning something is wrong.

[Rest] Sender stays in bed with receiver.

[Alone] Sender leads receiver away from the crowd after seeing that they need space.

[Cry] Sender holds receiver close as they cry.

[Meal] Sender makes receiver a warm meal.

[Hand] Sender gives reciever’s hand a gentle squeeze.

[Hair] Sender gently strokes receiver’s hair.

[Pat] Sender puts a hand on reciever’s shoulder.

[Massage] Sender gives receiver a shoulder rub.

[Action] + reverse for the reverse of said action!

[onlylifeordeath]

@duskregrets​ { Teresa } said: ❛  how  can  i  fix  this ?  ❜

“I don’t know that you can. Not this time.”

The answer is immediate, no matter how much it kills him to say the words aloud, to admit them to himself.

Last time he had felt this broken, she had been the one to pick up the pieces and put him back together, even if it didn’t last through even the next day. That hadn’t been her fault. Pecas’ people took her. Sent her to Cortez and Camila. There was nothing she could have done about that.

But this… This time she is the one responsible for those shattered pieces.

“… I tried, Teresa. I gave you every opportunity to come to me, to tell me, even to outright ask me whatever you needed to ask… and then I realized you wouldn’t. That you still can’t trust me. Despite everything. After all that we’ve been through together…… What I thought we meant to each other…” 

“How do you fix that?”

[onlylifeordeath]

@duskregrets​ { Teresa } said:  ❛  28 .   a  kiss  over  a  scar .

He had been lounging on the bed, lying on his stomach, reading a book. They aren’t expecting company, so it’s just him in his sleep pants and his thin, sleeveless undershirt turned sleep shirt.

Or, at least, it was just him until a certain someone decided to join, perching on his back like a cat. Following his initial––empty––complaint about “Can I help you?”, there’s a soft sigh of contentment once she settles, lying flat atop him, her arms crossed in front of her, following along the solid muscles of his shoulders.

For some time, they simply remain like that as she seems satisfied to simply lay there, chin resting on her arms, looking at the page he’s reading at present.

It isn’t long, however, before she readjusts and then perfectly manicured fingernails begin to trace along his back, along the lines criss-crossed over the entirety of it, marring what had once been fairly flawless skin. He takes a deep breath and allows his eyes to close, the book drooping to rest more on the bed as he relaxes.

He wonders if she knows. If she understands how it hits him whenever she does this. When the brutality surrounding the memories of the marks is juxtaposed against the softness of her so gently tracing over them. He wonders if she knows how soothing it is in the strangest of ways and if he could ever find the words to explain it to her.

It isn’t long before his head is bowed, his breathing deep and even, and if past experience is any indicator, another few minutes and he would be fast asleep…

Except…

This time she does something unexpected and it snaps him right back to wakefulness again.

A soft kiss pressed to one of the marks, lashed almost dead-center of his shoulder blades. If just tracing over them had such an effect on him, the fact that she had kissed one this time is so much more.

There’s that feeling in his chest, tenfold, tight and tangled and almost overwhelming, even as that warmth radiates through his chest and to the rest of his body. How confusing it all is and he isn’t sure if it’s the feelings or the strength of them that leaves him swallowing hard even as he turns his head to peer over his shoulder at her.

“… Teresa… What are you doing?”

There’s no accusation or reprimand to the words. [ If anything, there’s a strain, almost an odd sort of desperation to them. ]

[onlylifeordeath]

@duskregrets​ { Teresa } said:  “ i adore you. “

“I don’t know why sometimes,” he answers and his tone is playful [ though there is something to his eyes––when is there not?––that might betray how true he finds the words ] and there is the slightest upturn to the corners of his mouth. 

“… but I’m glad to hear it all the same.”

“Y’know, you’re not so bad yourself. I think I’ll keep you, after all.”

[onlylifeordeath]

@duskregrets​ { Teresa } said:  “Stop— you’re making me blush.”

“Am I?” 

The question is quiet and teasing and that she had said as much only seems to further embolden him, because––arms already wrapped around her waist––he only brings her closer still, soft, chaste kisses pressed to her forehead, her cheek, her jaw. 

Quite decidedly everywhere except where she likely wants them to be.

“I can’t help it. Am I not supposed to tell my wife how gorgeous she is? Or how much I love her? Sounds like some unrealistic expectations if you ask me…”

[la-ermitana]

We’re getting out of the business. 

Todo Lo Que Toco [5x08]

[plaguedaughter-blog]

Ever After (1998) Roleplay Starter Sentences

Change pronouns and titles, adapt dialect accordingly.  Especially suitable for royalty/fairy tale/period AUs.

A sapling cannot grow in the shadow of a mighty oak.

I was merely borrowing it!

Speak of this to no one and I shall be lenient.

A lady of breeding ought never to raise her voice any louder than the gentle hum of a whispering wind.

Do not speak unless you can improve the silence.

I was not shrill, I was resonant.

I very much doubt your style of resonance would be permitted in the royal court.

Darling, nothing is final until you’re dead and even then I’m sure God negotiates.

This is our home and I will not see it fall apart.

I trust you slept well.

Why don’t you sleep with the pigs, _____, if you insist on smelling like one.

Your appearance does reflect a certain crudeness, my dear. What can I do to make you try?

I do wish to please you. Sometimes I sit on my own and try to think of what else I could do, how I should act-

After all that I do, after all that I’ve done, it’s never enough.

Have you lost your marbles?

Do you know what the punishment is for servants to dress above their station? Five days in the stocks!

Me? Pretend to be a courtier? Prancing around like some nobleman, why I’ve never even been to the royal court, and neither have you.

They’ll never buy it, you are too sweet.

Now, don’t you dare laugh, I’m coming out.

Nobody will be looking at your feet.

Yards of fabric and I still feel naked.

If you’re going to be a noblewoman, you must play the part.

I suppose it’s because I lack conviction. You seem to have it in spades.

I demand that you release him at once, or I shall take this matter to the king.

— You ill-mannered tub of guts!

You dare raise your voice to a lady, sir?

A servant is not a thief your highness, and those who are cannot help themselves.

If you suffer your people to be ill-educated and their manners corrupted from infancy and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed to them, what else is to be concluded, sire, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?

Are you coy on purpose or do you honestly refuse to tell me your name?

I confess the plight of the everyday rustics bores me.

I gather you do not converse with many peasants.

Am I to understand that you find me arrogant?

Darling, he’s royalty, they’re born like that.

Well then I suppose the penalty for being wealthy is that you have to live with the rich.

Do you really think there’s only one perfect mate? Well, then how can you be certain to find them? And if you do find them are they really the one for you or do you only think they are and what happens if the person you’re supposed to be with never appears or she does, but you’re too distracted to notice.

And is everything just chance or were some things meant to be?

You cannot leave everything to fate, _____. She’s got a lot to do. Sometimes you must give her a hand.

You are trying to bait me with your snobbery.

I’m afraid,_____, that you are a walking contradiction and I find that rather fascinating.

You spout the ideals of a utopian society and yet you live the life of a courtier.

And you own all the land there is and yet you take no pride in working it. Is that not also a contradiction?

First I’m arrogant and now I have no pride, however do I manage that?

You have everything and still the world holds no joy and yet you insist on making fun of those who would see it for its possibilities.

Why do you like irritate me so?

Forgive me, your highness. I’ve lost track of the hour.

Your highness, what an unexpected surprise!

It is not fair sire, you have found my weakness but I have yet to learn yours.

In all my years of study, not one tutor demonstrated the passion you have shown me in the last two days.

You have more conviction in one memory than I have in my entire being.

Well this is terribly embarrassing.

Honestly, your highness, where’s your sense of adventure?

You would think I would know the way to my own castle.

And I still can’t believe that I’m down here while you’re up there and in your undergarments no less.

You will give me back my dress, sir!

I insist you return my things at once and since you deprive me of my escort I demand a horse as well.

You can have anything you can carry.

You are reading my thoughts, my lord.

To be so defined by your position, to never be seen as who you are but as what you are. You have no idea how insufferable that is.

They’re defined by their status just as your title defines you, yet it is not who they are.

You have been born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations.

I am sorry, my mouth has run away with me again.

Why you lazy little leech!

There was a bee.

I fear that I am not myself today.

I feel as if my skin is the only thing keeping me from going everywhere at once. 

I cannot stay long but I had to see you. There is much to say.

I used to think that if I cared about anything I’d have to care about everything and I’d go stark raving mad.

Why did you have to be so wonderful?

Last night was the happiest night of my life.

Why it’s almost as absurd as a prince who spends his days with a servant that sleeps with pigs.

What bothers you more, _____, that I am common or that I am competition?

Yes, I shall go down in history as the man who opened a door!

We must get you ready for the ball!

A bird may love a fish, _____, but where would they live?

Just breathe.

Do not address me so informal.

I was born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations.

I know that a life without love is no life at all.

And love without trust, what of that?

I am but a servant to my crown and I have made my decision. I will not yield!

Men are so fickle aren’t they?

Well my, my, my aren’t we feisty today?

Was there a time even in its smallest measurement, that you loved me at all?

How can anyone love a pebble in their shoe?

Oh, I do so hate to see you in irons. I’d remove them if only you’d promise not to run away again.

I belong to no one, least of all you.

I had a horse like you once. Magnificent creature. Stubborn just like you, willful to a fault, it too just needed to be broken in.

You will maintain your distance, sir.

Oh you didn’t say please.

I could hang you for this.

I do love your spirit.

My father was an expert swordsman, _____. He taught me well. Now hand me that key or I swear on his grave I will slit you from navel to nose.

I uh, I came to rescue you.

Perhaps you would be so kind as to help me find the owner of this rather remarkable shoe.

Choose your words wisely Madam, for they may be your last.

How dare you turn on me you little ingrate!

I’m only here for the food.

I want you to know that I will forget you after this moment and never think of you again. But you I am quite certain will think about me ever single day for the rest of your life.

How dare you speak to me that way, I’m of noble blood!

You sir, are supposed to be charming.

And we, princess, are supposed to live happily ever after.

[soulrph]

send " get down! " for the receiver to be tackled to the ground and shielded from an attack ( i.e. gunfire, explosions, etc. ) by the sender.

alternatively, send " what are you doing?! " for the sender to be tackled to the ground and shielded from an attack by the receiver.