Where Is My Fantasy Female Protagonist Who's A Little Too Socially Adept Maybe I'm Tired Of The Assumption

me: *writes fic*

me: great! time to post to ao3-

ao3 summary box: *exists*

me: 

ao3 summary box:

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ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴇʀʙꜱ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ) ~

love admire adore cherish yearn for fancy treasure

laugh chuckle giggle snort crow chortle guffaw cackle

shout cheer screech scream bark call yell

move run walk back away sprint turn jump duck

look glance focus eye survey study sight spot

whisper murmur mutter breathe intone hiss mouth

-:"Can two spies be lovers?" Enemies to lovers -spy edition- prompts:-

(As a writer, this is one of the hottest tropes out there—just saying, tag me if you write theseeeeee)

By @me-writes-prompts

"You have no right to save me!" "As a human being, I do. As a spy, I don't. But I still did, so quit whining and be thankful, brat."

They just had to be on the same mission, working together, unknowingly.

"Are you into me?" "What? no!!" "Then why do you keep pinning me to the wall?" "I-..."

Getting locked up in the same place

^^"What are you doing here?" "I could ask you the same." "I would rather die than be here. God." "Hey!"

Having to pretend that they are a couple in a ball!!

"You think you're better than me? Please." "I'm better than you because I'm more dangerous!" "I'm better than you because I'm more dangerous!" Cue a fight.

They just so happen to be in a narrow alleyway, with nowhere to turn.

"I guess you're not so bad after all." "Yeah, you're tolerable too." "Wow, thank you for such a big compliment." "You're welcome." "Jerk."

They need the other's help to escape a hazardous situation.

^^"You didn't need to rescue me or whatever. I don't need your help." "You need it more than you realize, or let on."

"Next time, try not to shoot a bullet my way." "Well, screw me for trying to save you. I wish I had aimed it at you." "*Gasps!*"

The other one keeps bragging, and in a "moment of foolishness", they kiss them to shut them up.

"I didn't know you could do that." "You sound impressed." "Hardly." "As a spy, you're not a good liar." "Shut up."

The unfamiliar protectiveness kicks in when they see the other injured/wounded.

The Moon Singing on Homely Nights

The moon sings softly on the nights Esther climbs in through her brother’s window. These nights turn sparser as Amador stays in his new apartment across the country. During these nights, her heart beats in a lulled pace while she sits on his empty bed. 

There’s a soft click as she unlatches the window and when she crawls in, she makes sure to land on her toes. She finds more than just her older brother. She doesn’t know what she’ll see or what she hopes to see. When she’d last seen him, he’d slammed the door, tears streaking down his face and voice hoarse from screaming. She still doesn’t have the full pieces from the fight that led to her father’s roaring voice startling their home into silence and the unusual pitch of Amador’s voice as he walked out the door. 

She opens his bedroom door to see if he is in the living room or spending his time in a library. She hopes he’s found a library he likes here despite all that has transpired. 

Amador’s head is lolled on the couch, his mouth parted and dead to the world. His body is slightly tilted with one arm around his childhood friend, Maya’s sleeping form who was hugging her brother’s waist. The ugly green blanket Esther had gifted him as a joke is bunch around their feet as if kicked. There’s Snakes n Ladders, playing cards, and Candyland strewn across the table. 

Maya had always filled Amador’s head with ideas—little fantasies that didn’t include Esther most likely that he could escape into. Frowning, she steps forward, fully planning to yank the woman out but the floor creaks loudly under her feet. They both jolt open, Amador’s shaking his head and Maya drags her hands across her face to remove her hair from her mouth, scrunching her face. 

When Amador turns around to face the source of the sound, he finds her face and gives a dopey smile. ‘Hey, you’re home. When d’you come here?’ 

This is the first time she heard him call this place home, and a little piece of Esther’s heart cracks as if he’s renouncing the family home. Something vicious crawls onto Esther’s tongue as she bites out, ‘Thought you’d know that you’ve not succeeded in getting rid of me yet.’ 

Milas flinches as hurt flashes across his face, and in an instant, Maya grips his arm. Esther can never guess how Maya knows that while still keeping her piercing gaze fixed on her.

‘I don’t want to get rid of you,’ Amador says in confusion before letting out a shaky laugh, ‘no matter how annoying you are, you little rugrat.’ 

Esther should ideally know that. She doesn’t have the full pieces of the fight he had with mom and dad, or the unfamiliar way he’s glancing at Esther, still wary but now distant. Even in the moonlight, she can see the color back on his face, the surety of his movements as he tidies up the table and the blanket to give Esther a place to sit. 

When Maya flicks on the floor lamp in the corner, his eyes crinkle at Esther and he pats the seat next to him. His cheeks are no longer sallow, his face no longer as pale as Esther, and he no longer sways in a way that makes Esther worry that a faint breeze could have knocked the husk of a rock her brother used to be. 

Her brother had been wasting away for months, and Esther had not noticed. 

From the corner of her eyes, Maya walks in with two plates balanced in a tray and slides the biggest portion of what looks like heated leftover lasagna to her brother, glancing warily, as she reminds him, ‘You’d promised you’d eat tomorrow nine hours ago. It’s 12:03. Eat up.’ 

She offers another to Esther as she leisurely nibbles on peanuts to keep her brother company. Her brother makes a little face at the size, and Maya produces a bar of chocolate in her fingers seemingly out of thin air as a bribe and chews obnoxiously loud until he drops it. He slouches to rest his head on Maya’s shoulders in acquiesce like Esther had seen him do a thousand times since she could remember, and the woefully domestic scene sours her heart. 

Her plate remains untouched and she nods her head in gratitude for the food and the company. She makes excuses poorly at best and outlandish at worst, and walks out the door. 

One day, she would know the words of the fight and Amador’s dreams if he’d let her, but for now, she takes the earliest train home. As she looks through the window, she sees her mother’s eyes with dark circles underneath. They both have her eyes, but this new Amador’s eyes gleam bright enough to quiet the moon. 

A dating service where matching is based on people’s search history exists. You’re a serial killer. You go on a date with a writer.

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Writing Snippet #1

Esther mused as the insomniac nyctophiles ambled underneath the moon, swooning by the promises of halcyon days framed by the stars and meteors and heartbreak. Days that stretched too long in its burning intensity and nights where rain draped lovers in midst of sweet kisses.

The warmth of Ivory's breath lingered down from ear to her collarbone, pressing a ghost of a kiss as she commented offhandedly about her day. Esther wondered if she hadn't spent days underneath the earth in its caves and stations, if she'd still have the sun-kissed skin of her mother when she looked in the mirror, missing her in the curve of her lip, the shape of her jaw, and the dip in her brows.  

She missed her terribly, the lilt in her lullabies, the firm frown laced with mirth when Milas burnt his mouth for the fourth time in the same meal.

She remembered the familiar weight of her hand that had now been replaced in her chest, uncomfortably tight around her throat and ribs. 

Her father would keep them safe, with his calloused hands that could lift her up and twirl her in a dance, with the rage and ferocity that rivaled her mother. 

She would gather their numbers, keep them safe- find them again. She dared to hope again.