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elvisabutler · 2 years

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gunmetal

summary: elvis loves his guns. you think he loves you. question is are those mutually exclusive. fandom: elvis presley | elvis 2022 pairing: elvis presley x female reader rating: m word count: 3328 not even remotely talking about it. it happened alright? warnings: gun kink. elvis's sexual issues. minor implied food kink maybe? use of a gun in penetrative ways. masturbation ( m and f ). implied future oral ( f ). older/later elvis described/implied. ( i'm not meaning that in a warning re: weight, it's more i do know that some would prefer to not interact with elvis as he was toward the end of his life in ways that are sexual ). minor daddy kink, as in reader calls elvis daddy and he refers himself as daddy. it's not super in your face. minor mommy kink on elvis's part. also unhealthy bdsm practices because you know, no one in this is necessarily fully sober/in good states of mind. just really y'all, this is a...ride. also thigh riding and squirting. author's note: okay. so let me explain myself. this gif is not indicative of the exact time frame for elvis i chose for this though have at it, pick austin elvis and 73ish as ya man here if you want. i definitely did not. so. i read a set of fics that had kinks i don't have in the slightest because i was curious ( because i've been in fandom/the internet too long and i look at dead dove don't eat on some fics and think it's a challenge ) and i faintly regret my choices with it. but it made me basically be like jimmie where i say things like "i don't know what i'm thinking". said fic set has wormed its way into my brain where it lives and tosses me like two pennies and a bit of lint for rent. this is the bit of lint. i am sorry for this. if y'all actually want another gun kink fic from me, i'll probably write it come november but i wanted to do something different with this. i don't know what this is. when i said unhinged, i didn't necessarily mean sexy. watch this be accidentally sexy. also hi, yeah this is day 13 of kinktober, gun kink with elvis. and yes i have had to edit this three times.

Elvis- You love Elvis. God help you and saints preserve you, but you love him. You love him enough that you forget how he can be, how you forget how he slowly is becoming a version of him that you're not sure you want to be with. He's possessive and mercurial on his best days, possessive and terrifying on his worst. Priscilla had warned you, Linda had warned you, they had both told you that Elvis takes and takes and takes and while he gives and gives and gives it's complicated. It's maybe never what you need.

You're giving though, you're the type of girl Elvis needs right now. Someone to keep him in check, to try and slide him into something inching toward health even as his body wants to rebel against him.

But Elvis takes, Elvis has desires that he'd keep unspoken for some girls. But Priscilla took it, Linda took it- his true girls- his girls he wanted to keep would take it. Would take what he wanted to give them. Elvis likes to combine the things he loves into something he figures is better than the two things apart. It's with his food, his music and truthfully his needs and wants in the bedroom. You're his girl and they're his girls and the values them more anything in the world other than little Lisa. They even outrank you and you know it. Girls may come and go but Elvis's guns? Oh those girls are forever, his personal harem to pick and choose from and keep close.

Elvis doesn't sleep well after shows, everyone has told you that from the second you said hello and he said ain't you the prettiest thing this side of the Mississippi. You are always riled up after shows, always a squirming mess he carts off to the bedroom the second he gets to the hotel. Some nights- like this particular night he's not up to the task of fucking you. A sign of his age, maybe a sign of how his body wants to betray him at the one thing he enjoys as much as- well as much he knows things are twisted in his head. He is hungry after the shows though and after this particular show he's got you in his lap, on one of his thighs, your body bouncing and grinding as you use its substantial size to provide pressure to your clit, to your cunt to every part of your body in between your legs. You're facing him and occasionally your hands drift down to his stomach, wanting to feel it, wanting to feel his chest and every part of him. He always gives you a look over his glasses before moving your hand back up to his arm. He can see your face starting to twist like he knows it does when you're heading toward your release, he's impressed tonight. Normally you require his fingers on your clit or pinching at your nipples. Maybe these big thighs were good for something, tonight.

"Make a mess of your Daddy, darlin'. Stain the jumpsuit, hm?" He murmurs into your ear before feeling you shudder against him, your body taking his words to be a command. He places a light kiss against your neck. You find that it feels sticky.

"Are you-" You start and pause, eyeing Elvis, watching him stare at you with those eyes that if nothing else- if all else fails him- would draw in even the strongest of individuals. "Do I need to help you?"

He hums before exhaling, shifting his body to get a little more comfortable on the chair he's sitting in. "Depends on your answer to my question."

"What is it?" You're genuinely curious, Elvis's eyes seem a little brighter today and you have hope tonight might be a good night for both of you.

His hands move to cup your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss. You have to climb up onto him a little from your position but you find you don't mind. From his pleased hum you can feel vibrate against your body you figure he doesn't mind either.

"I wanna see you play with my guns. One of my favorites. I'll take the ammo and everything out just for tonight." He can already picture it, picture you on the bed, him in this chair, his cock in his hand and you- and you on your shared hotel bed writhing as you brushed your clit against the metal. "'m not feeling up to fuckin' ya tonight, but I wanna come watching ya."

You force a smile on your face, it's not that you don't want to do it- it's a strange request, but not unwelcome- it's just you had hoped it would not be a take take take night and instead be a give give give night. "Which one, daddy?" You added daddy to see him smile.

It works.

He chose one with a long barrel, whispering as your ground your ass against him that it was to give you the length he knew you craved. Sure, you enjoyed his girth in more ways than one but sometimes it was just the length you needed. His pajama pants are down by his ankles as he settles into the chair and you allow your fingers to play with yourself, slowly getting yourself prepared for what you're going to do. You're always a little more wet than normal when you have Elvis watching you and tonight is surprisingly no exception. You never used to be like this, never used to be turned on at the thought of someone watching you but Elvis has a way of turning things you thought you knew about yourself on its head. His eyes are zeroed in on your cunt, watching your fingers disappear in and out, glistening ever so slightly with your juices and he can't help the low groan he lets out at it, his hand moving to lazily stroke his cock. Yes, he'd like to get off watching you on his gun, watching you come all over it like you did his thigh not even an hour before, like you have on his cock but he's not in a rush. Next show isn't even for another few days, so if he wants he could lay you out on this bed like the buffet you are and take his time savoring every last morsel and drop of you.

"What are you looking at?" You whisper a little breathlessly, two of your fingers teasing your clit like Elvis had many times before.

"You." He answers simply, his thumb brushing over his tip. "Watchin' how you're preppin' yourself. Thinkin' I oughta help, but there's somethin' about watching ya."

Your lips curl into a lazy smile. "You're always- You know I love it when you do. Maybe tomorrow morning you can play with me like this? Spread my pretty lips open and taste me. Maybe there will be a hint of the metal."

If a growl leaves his throat, if a growl leaves his throat and has him sounding like his Harley revving up, you and him don't comment on it. "Don't be a tease, baby. Think you might be prepped enough. It's thinner than me, 'member that."

You hum before letting out a heavy and mildly overexaggerated sigh. "I guess you're right." Your hand encircles the grip of gun, noting how cold it is with a shiver. Your eyes look up at Elvis before you tilt your head and drag the barrel across your skin, starting from your neck and moving down to your chest, letting the cool metal brush against your overheated skin. "It's cold."

He gulps as he pumps his cock, watching how your npples pebble after the barrel swipes by them. If he could, if he wanted to get up from this chair, he's walk over to you and warm them up, take your nipples in his mouth and suck on them, bite at them, watch you keen and writhe against him. He won't though, because he just wants to watch you.

When you finally reach your cunt, you practically jump at the first brush of the metal against your cunt. You think maybe you should have sucked on it first, given it some warmth before you had it touch you, but it was too late for that. You take a deep breath and look at Elvis unblinking as you slowly shove the barrel of the gun into your cunt. If you were closer to him you'd likely see how the blue of his eyes is completely taken over by the black of his pupil, you'd see how his mouth has dried out from the small pants he can't stop himself from taking and you'd notice how he looks- he looks like he does onstage. He looks completely full of life and ready to strike at the one person he has in his gaze. You.

His breath is shallow the longer he looks, the longer he looks and pumps himself, the precum covering his cock, his jar of lube unused for him. "Goddamn, little one, you should see- drive a man wild, fucking yourself on his gun. Gonna smell like you, won't be able to be at the range without remembering you- won't be able to shoot it without remembering this. Gonna have to explain to the boys why I popped a boner like a fuckin' teenager."

You huff out a laugh, your body letting out a shiver as it tries to adjust to the intrusion of something you're not used to. "Don't wear such tight pants and they won't know. Is this going to be your new favorite?"

He nods. "Gonna have it tucked in somewhere every damn show. Maybe it'll be a good luck charm."

A good luck charm for you and him, a sign that you two will last like him and 'Cilla didn't, like him and Linda didn't. You did this for him, they didn't, they had- your limits are always far more malleable than theirs were. Not a bad thing but it give him some hope.

You pull the barrel out of your cunt and press it against your swollen clit, hissing as you do. "Christ, Daddy, I didn't realize I'd be so sensitive. I'm- how close are you?"

You want to come, but he hasn't and you refuse to be that greedy, not for him right now. Not for him when he's having a good night, not a great night, but a good one and you want to savor it. If you're trying not to move the gun, letting the barrel stay pressed against your clit in order to stave off your impeding orgasm he doesn't say anything.

His hand moves faster, knowing that he is pretty close, he wants to come for you, wants to show you what you've done to him, how you've made him feel. "Talk me through it, Mama."

Your eyes had slipped closed as you lost yourself in the sensations of the metal, the smell of your arousal and sex in the room, the taste of what Elvis had been eating earlier lingering on your tongue. Your eyes had been closed but they shoot open at the word Mama. He was- oh, he was in that sort of mood. Oh, you could oblige.

"Talk you through it, sweetheart? Talk you through how Mama wants to see you come? I worked hard, I took your gun for you. Would have taken it all night for you but your thigh- You let Mama come on your thigh earlier, she doesn't have that many in her tonight." Your voice is practically a murmur but you know Elvis can hear you, can hear how you sound how your voice has an edge of neediness. "I need you to come so I can, sweetheart. You don't need to wait. The sooner you do it, the sooner we can clean up and we can go to sleep. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Us taking care of each other like that tonight. You did good tonight, just like I did. Come for Mama, Elvis, show me how much you appreciate me."

That does it, you asking him to show how much he appreciates you doing this, how much he appreciates you in his life. He comes with a groan, coating his hand and the towel he had put underneath him with his come. He doesn't say anything, doesn't have the energy to, his head lulling to the side a little as he watches you finally move the gun, finally allow it to press against your clit- rub against your clit in a way that has you shivering. You're close and you know that you could likely come without the penetration, you should come without it, but you decide at the last second to slide the gun barrel back inside you as you flutter around it, coming with a hiss because everything is so overwhelming that your throat can't even manage anything else. When you pull the gun out it's covered in your fluids, glistening in the light of the room. You look at the sheets and realize you might have squirted. A bit of shame twists in your gut at that, because this what what made you squirt? Fucking yourself on your boyfriend's gun? What kind of woman were you? Elvis still hasn't gotten up from the chair, his eyes lazily moving between you, the gun and the wet spot. His lips curl into a smirk.

"Ruined the sheets and my jumpsuit. Ain't you a menace to fabrics." He whispers as you stand up and move towards him. You stop and hold out your hand to pull him up from the chair. He eyes it and shakes his head. You keep it there until he takes it with a huff, stepping completely out of his pants as he does.

"I'm your menace, Elvis. Shower?" You hold his hand, linking your fingers together as you lead him to the bathroom.

"Then bed. Gonna let me lay on ya chest tonight?" He asks, pulling you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you like he's that teddy bear he sang about almost two decades ago.

"If it helps you sleep tonight, yeah." A pause. "Love you."

A low hum and a kiss to your temple is the only answer you get back. You'll take it for now.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #i very specifically did not include a lot of tags in this.#i am.#i really did almost just hide this on my ao3.#ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes #i don't know what this fic even is i truly don't.#WHY I WROTE THIS FOR KINKTOBER I WILL NOT UNDERSTAND.#also no i didn't have an oops when i copy and pasted why do y'all ask.

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mommy-daddy-issues-poll · 8 months

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Arven (Pokémon Scarlet & Violet) Propaganda

“spoilers but based on the version you play, one of arven's parents was killed by a pokemon and replaced by a robot who can't leave the building they're in, and the other just up and left when he was a baby. he basically grew up alone with only his pokemon to keep him company. the robot parent doesn't even get to be with him at the end. robot parent has to die bc they've got a security protocol that makes them attack anyone who tries to stop them from completing the original parent's mission, which ends up being a threat to the region

part of the original parent's mission was to create a paradise for their family :("

“Based on the game that you choose he either has mommy or daddy issues and the other parent left his family when he was still young. And on top of that the parent in the game is already dead when you finally meet them in the game and only an AI copy of them remains.”

“He literally has version exclusive mommy and daddy issues please the games are DEFINED by his mommy and daddy issues”

"Depending on what version of the game you play, one parent leaves (is completely unpresent in Arven's life) and the other parent effectively abandons Arven, being too consumed with their research in Area Zero. So Arven pretty much has to raise himself (he also got the legendary just kind of dumped on him). At one point Arven goes into Area Zero to look for them, and his mabostiff got severely injured in the process (his dog is dying for most of his storyline).

Turns out his parent actually died protecting the legendary like awhile ago.. and is now an AI... who eventually sends themselves to the past/future to stop the real version's time machine that kept bringing past/future pokemon to the present which was causing problems... which Arven watches like 5 minutes after finding out his real parent has been dead the entire time.....

Arven's storyline made me actually cry real tears. This is the most distraught I have ever been playing a Pokémon game, or any game for that matter."

#arven #propaganda #mommy daddy issues poll #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon

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triniteevee · 2 years

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im sorry for lack of updates and zero scarlet violet content but my ass is still sat stuck on VERSION EXCLUSIVE MOMMY/DADDY ISSUES (markiplier voice: oh it’s adorable oh it’s traumatized)

#dlc gets him therapy

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theseerasures · 3 years

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Which part specifically? I mean, yeah, the whole game is a disaster, but I'd love to hear specific points. There was so much I didn't like about Fates that it just collectively merges as 'bad' in my mind.

it's not really anything specific tbh!! because the way Fates is misogynistic is not different from the way the other Fire Emblems (that i’ve. played. it’s possible all the ones pre-Sacred Stones were actually Forbidden Feminist Utopias) also carry that unmistakable whiff of misogyny. it's not done out of malice, it's just...a franchise that loves to play high fantasy tropes straight, particularly the bit about Restoring the Good Monarch. i never got the sense that they thought hard about the fact that the dude protags (Ephraim, Ike, Chrom) get intricate coming of age stories about tempering their talents for murder with wisdom, while all the lady "protags" (Eirika, Elincia, Micaiah) mostly don't change at all and just kinda swan around doing the "we are ethereal maidens too good for this sinful earth" thing, and when they do wibble it's always about how they wish they could be as "strong" as their dude counterparts except they inevitably can't and don't want to be, because war is bad!!! there's too much war in this war game franchise, buy our next DLC for how to solve war with war

(Lucina's a weird case, but that's why i love her, and...i suspect the only reason Lucina got to be the way she is was because she was doing DRAG, which is a rabbit hole that we don't have time for.)

Fates (sidebar: i played Revelations but i know what happens in Birthright and Conquest. i ended up doing all the Paralogues, because i was morbidly curious about how many different ways you could tell a "no dad!!! it's your dream" story, and the answer was "around four, so spreading them across TWENTY ONE versions basically creates the story equivalent of ultra skim milk.") doesn't do anything functionally different from its predecessors, it's just...more egregious this time, because so much of the story feels exclusively catered to drawing attention to it. i get the sense that the devs were trying to aim for bigger, more sophisticated storytelling than what they did with Awakening, which is why we got Fire Emblem: More Royals Than Ever and the requisite chin-stroking about families of blood vs. families of choice, but that they were trying to be Deep (tm) just made the parts that have always been shallow in the franchise look uglier.

i'm just gonna talk about the Royals, because the story privileges the Royals to a truly mind-bending degree (see above: high fantasy, monarchism). with the Royals we have:

the Hoshido/Nohr sibling matchy-matchy that is eerie from the outset (did Sumeragi and Garon set TIMERS so they'd impregnate women at roughly the same time and murder the babies who didn't come out the right gender?), even before you get to the part where they are "foils" for each other in p much aesthetic only, since their personalities are not actually that different when you get down to it. you have the Dutiful Big Bro (Xander and Ryoma), the Closeted Lesbian Big Sis (Camilla and Hinoka, representing opposite ends of the gender presentation spectrum), the Insecure Lil Bro (Takumi and Leo), and the Incorruptibly Pure Lil Sis (Sakura and Elise, the latter of whom for her crime of being outgoing was punished with death in Birthright, which...yikes)

so like. extremely paint by numbers right from conception (heh). why couldn't Xander have been the one who was Naive and Not Ready for This World? because he is Boy, which means he can only be flawed in the Boy Ways, so he must be Too Worldly instead. why couldn't Camilla be the oldest? she's already jaded and weird, so why not make her the heir just to shake things up? because she is Girl and Too Weird and Wearing BLACK, and weird girls in black can't be queen--even if Xander dies, she can't be queen.

Azura is clearly supposed to The Chrom Surrogate of this game insofar as she's your blue haired pal with whom you share a destiny, but she is The Chrom Surrogate but MAXIMUM GIRL, so she's the quintessential non-combatant class, she has a special song that soothes the hearts of warriors, she LITERALLY DIES FOR THE PEACE (TM) IN BIRTHRIGHT AND CONQUEST. (and obviously her hair can't be the Fire Emblem Classic shade of blue--that's too masculine.)

wrt the second gen, lineage is passed through the dad in the eugenics factory this time, which is on paper a fine shakeup from in Awakening, but...ALL the definitely-royal second gens are boys? don't get me wrong: i actually adore what they did with Forrest--like, fucking superb u gender-nonconforming fashion-loving Prince of Peace--but Forrest being an actually interesting inversion of what we expect (that isn't played for laughs!!!) makes all the other boys come off as much blander than they could be. why can't Kiragi be a dirt and hunting loving GIRL? i love Shiro's supports with Kana, but his whole "boisterous laid back but also inferiority complex" deal would be much less tired if he were the Crown Princess instead of Prince. i suppose if Siegbert were Girl with Anxiety and Kingship he'd just...be Lucina, but that's not necessarily a bad thing!!! bitches love Lucina!! (i'm bitches)

the thing is all of this would be...well. not FINE, but more acceptable if they did some things to flesh out those cookie-cutter personalities. Fates didn't deliver for any of the Royals to the extent i wanted it to, but even for what we had the girls got markedly less than the boys did. the moment that made me go "hoo boy maybe i will make poast about this" was in the climax when all the Five Whatevers lit up to form the Fire Emblem and we got some nice concept art of Takumi Leo Ryoma and Xander making :O faces, while the girls...were also there! in Revelation i'm pretty sure you can cut out Camilla Hinoka Elise and Sakura and leave the plot basically unchanged. you could say they fare better in Birthright and Conquest, but you could just as easily say they fare WORSE, because what they get to do if they're NPCs in those routes are: be sad and die, be sad and be spared from dying, be sad and get even weirder before being spared from dying, or be sad.

Camilla and Hinoka feel like the most wasted potential, because we haven't had as many "female royal who is actually pretty down with murder" characters before. but the devs clearly had no idea with what to DO with that, so (outside of her daddy and mommy issues, the details of which we learn about via supports with Niles the resident sex pest and hoo boy the "queer rep" in this game is whole other can of worms) Camilla became your momsistergirlfriend with built-in innovative airbag technology, whose creepiness is played for laughs, and Hinoka was...wait which one was Hinoka again

i am partly just being glib for comic effect, but like--the underlying problems are there, no matter how seriously or generously you want to read it. Fates doesn't go out of its way to mistreat its women; it just doesn't expend any effort thinking about them, so the misogyny breaks loose and stands out anyway.

#Anonymous #fire emblem

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redwhiteandbruised · 3 years

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mobile-friendly rules

BASIC INFO

❔ tracking #redwhiteandbruised

❔ semi-private: aka mostly mutuals only; very happy to meet new folks to rp with.

❔ exclusivity: not happening, don’t ask for it.

❔ multi-muse, side & personal journals: i will usually not follow you back if you run a multi-muse blog/rp from a personal; i need to limit dash clutter in order to be able to focus (thanks, ADD + autism). i’m happy to rp with multiple & side blogs, but I will not RP with personals.

❔ crossovers: limited to what i know; please check with me first. if we’ve written together a lot and have a rapport, i’m way more likely to jump into things i’m not as familiar with for you.

❔ cut your replies: please cut your replies & repost asks as new posts when replying. (cuts aren’t the same as readmores; happy to explain if needed.)

❔ you must have rules or, at the very least, your age stated somewhere on your blog. i will always read your rules before interacting, and i ask that you please do the same.

ABOUT THIS BLOG

❕ est 31 March 2016

❕ strictly 21+. non-mature themes only if you are 18 or over; i will not rp with anyone under 18 years old, no exceptions, regardless of content & your geographical location’s ‘legal age.’ please have your age somewhere on your blog; ‘mun is 18+’ is fine; ‘mun is of legal age’ means nada (fun fact: legal age can be anything from 12-25 depending on your country).

❕ safe space: staunchly inclusive. i make a point of avoiding ableist or bigoted language and terminology. please come talk to me in chat or send an ask and tell me if i screw up.

❕ triggers: i will tag genuine triggers when asked (please don’t conflate squicks with triggers). triggers will be tagged ‘triggerything tw’ or ‘triggerything cw’.

❕ formatting: usually small text +/- 100x100 icon, sometimes with light formatting; will try to match your style. if you need any special formatting to make it easier for you to read (ie unformatted large font etc), lemme know.

❕ pre-established relationships: sure, once discussed.

❕ readmores: used for explicit dubcon/noncon content, common triggers, & graphic nsfw.

❕ memes: love ‘em! send me as many as you like, as often as you like, and as many prompts as you want from a multi-prompt meme. i do my best to observe reblog karma but don’t expect you to; it’s all good.

❕ open posts: for mutuals new & old; i don’t mind how many people have already replied or how ancient the open is. i’ll generally repost your reply in a new post with my reply to make it easier to track. let me know if you’d like something different.

❕ shipping: multiship; not ship exclusive. shipping is dependent wholly on muse interaction and never guaranteed. james has a complex, traumatic past & is not going to have an easy time with his sexuality in canon verses. he may not always be aware of his own sexuality; in verses that he is, he will generally identify as bisexual. he may or may not be open to poly setups depending on verse. nsfw threads aren’t going to be that common and will generally, though not always, fade to black. happy to discuss. note: 616-verse stucky is not going to happen. mcu stucky is great.

YES PLEASE

✅ duplicates, multiple ‘canon’ realities, AUs, cross-fandom, What Ifs

✅ crossovers, especially within Marvel & DC

✅ AUs: love, love, love. give me your tropey coffee shop au; better yet, give me your research-worthy ww1 au, time-travel au, etc. i’m utter trash for sentinel!verse (and if you don’t know what that is, come at me).

✅ plot-development, complex characterization

✅ conscious, intentional, creative abuse of grammar/syntax

✅ any gender identity/lack thereof; sexual orientation/lack thereof; neurodivergent characters; disabled characters

✅ LGBT+, non-cis/het, POC, or other minority versions of canonically white cis straight Christian etc characters

✅ female versions of canonically (cis)male characters

✅ dark, edgy, angsty themes up to and including psychological & physical torture, abuse, & character death

✅ complex & conscientious portrayals of trauma and mental health issues

NO THANKS

❎ self-insertion &/or only looking for nsfw

❎ pages of ooc

❎ pages of graphic porn

❎ you rp nothing but smut of a variety that squicks me, such as (below) and don’t put it behind readmores:

1) A/B/O, especially if it involves ‘mating’/'breeding’, pregnancy

2) BDSM that uses an abundance of misogynistic language like 'slut/whore’; 'daddy/mommy’ themes; pet play; romanticizing unhealthy abusive relationships ('50 Shades of Nope’ comes to mind) by framing them as consensual BDSM. (note: mun is active in the BDSM scene, so please do bring on your consensual kinks)

❎ consistent grammar/spelling errors (happy to help)

❎ lots of family/baby/child content

❎ 'child of’/'sibling of’ & non-canon family member/friend characters

❎ anthropomorphic, furry, or 'real people’ characters

❎ Supernatural, Dr Who, or anime crossovers

❎ gatekeeping, canon-snobbery, constant negativity

❎ erasure of any minority group (ie male versions of canonically female characters; suspiciously white FCs for canonically POC characters, etc)

If you feel like it, send me your favourite trope as a way of letting me know you’ve read these. I’m not going to ask for any sort of specific symbol, codeword, etc to prove it, but I will presume you have and act accordingly. If you feel compelled to acknowledge any specific parts that jump out at you or query something that doesn’t sit right with you, we’ll probably be bffs.

#✘ ⋮ ❝crawling in my skin❞ ( ooc tag. )#|| mobile links #|| please don't reblog

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stoic-grump · 4 years

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🔀 to meet an alternate version of them where something important didn't happen? ((Only if you wish, no pressure :)))

Gondor never became a doctor when his parents decided to keep him. His mother was kind to him, so he was very close to her, but he was despised by his father. Even though his mother loved him so, she didn't do anything to stop the abuse and beatings received from his father.

He never developed vestiphobia, so he wears loose shirts, usually long sleeved. He was raised in a poor family, so what he wears was never brand new.

After he grew up, he stayed home to take care of his sickly mother and works at a quiet bookstore in his hometown, never making a difference for himself and having low confidence since he never learned to stand up for himself.

He still looks tired and has a complicated relationship with sleep, but the intense look that is in his brown eyes in a different life is gone. He's given up on himself and only lives for his mother, working to pay the bills and bring food on the table.

Approaching him in any sort of way, especially if you're a man with high authority, will cause him a lot of anxiety. He usually speaks exclusively to elder women since they remind him of his mother; he's friends with a few he works with at the bookstore.

Instead of small rectangular glasses when he needs to read, he wears rounder and slightly larger ones. He usually keeps them on when he's at work since sorting through books and staring at the computer screen requires a lot of reading.

Timid, shier than before and the tough exterior he built for himself in a different life has made him this; a book nerd and a mommy's boy with daddy issues.

#tw: abuse #now I'm sad :c #this version of Gondor seems cuter #what have I just created??

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rosierwed · 5 years

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JENNIE KIM? No, that’s actually IVY ROSIER from the MARAUDERS ERA. You know, the child of RODERICK BLISHWICK and EUN HA BLISHWICK (NÉE YOO)? Only 20 years old, this RAVENCLAW alumni works as a HOMEMAKER and is sided with THE DEATH EATERS. SHE identifies as a CIS WOMAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be INTOLERANT, ARROGANT, and MATERIALISTIC but also NURTURING, CREATIVE, and FASHIONABLE. — &&. ( ANNA, PST, SHE/HER/HERS, 26. )

official hcs i applied with:

Ivy is the product of a particularly unhappy arranged marriage. Her father’s family, the Blishwicks have maintained their wealth through savvy investments that sometimes delve into the muggle world in order to profit off the family skill of precognition. The Blishwicks have a propensity to being Seers. Unfortunately, these shrewd business moves have alienated some extremist purebloods. Although the Blishwicks still are very much intolerant of muggleborns, some, such as Cantkanerous Nott, view them as blood traitors. This has let to their exclusion from the Pure Blood Directory. Ivy’s mother’s family, the Yoos, on the other hand have maintained a pristine reputation, inside Korea and out. What they have lacked in recent generations, however, is money. In exchange for a sort of reverse dowry, the Blishwicks gained the respectability of having a Yoo among their ranks. Neither Roderick nor Eun Ha was happy with this arrangement but there was little to be done. After producing an heir (Ivy’s twin brother), they have very much lived separate lives.

Though it skipped her father, Ivy inherited the Blishwick seer gene. The most recent seer before her, her great grandfather, made much of the family’s current fortune using his gifts for profit. Ivy wants nothing to do with this skill, however. She often chooses to dismiss her visions as bad dreams and tries her best to forget them. She’d rather live in blissful ignorance. Ivy is not officially known to the ministry as a seer despite her visions as she has never disclosed them to anyone.

Ivy is the mother of two children, through her marriage to Evan Rosier. Unlike many of their pureblood peers, this marriage was a love match. Ivy and Evan met and fell in love at Hogwarts. Although, as a Rosier, Evan was expected to marry someone with a more prestigious surname, his and Ivy’s love was too strong to be ignored. Their children are two-year-old Roderick Rosier and one-year-old Edeline. She loves her children and husband more than anything in the world and would do anything to defend or protect them

the rantings of a loving mother:

okay okay so ivy is my baby

i’ve been playing versions of her since like 2013

she’s my cHILD

little baby girl

princess

anyway

that’s more or less how her dad treated her???

he was rlly hard on her twin brother bc he was the heir and had to be perfect

but daddy blishwick loved his little princess and gave her anything she ever wanted

partially to try to make up for how terrible her mom was tbh

my girl has mommy issues

anyway she’s a ravenclaw so she’s smart and likes learning new things

but she’s mostly a ravenclaw bc of how obsessed she is w/fashion and creating

she’s like tim gunn from project runway she can be harsh but it’s out of love

also she’s super prejudiced against muggle borns even tho she likes muggle clothes and stuff

she wants the cool things they make not just her

strictly speaking ivy isn’t a death eater herself and doesn’t have a dark mark but

hubby is so she’s gotta root for the home team ya know??

rlly ivy would rather just stay out of it and let evan deal w/that stuff

she just wants to stay home and have nice things and take care of her babies

bUT HER BABIES ARE GONE AND SHE IS DISTRAUGHT

it’s a hard time for my girl

evan is the love of her life and she refuses to accept that he dies young lmao

ivy lives for burying her head in the sand tbh

she’s a sweetheart, rlly, just.... a rlly bigotted one

also, ps, she’s lowkey related to rab biologically but neither of them know

#quantum intro #flashing gif tw #epilepsy tw #flashing image tw #about

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fatstevewrites · 6 years

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For writers: How NOT To Write Dialog

Hey, guys! Like... All three of you. Content has not been forthcoming because the past few months have been kinda crazy. First, Best Buy got weird. Then, I went full-time at Allegory, and quit Best Buy, and it was weird getting used to long days and consistent scheduling, and I had a bunch of stuff to catch up on at home. Which I didn’t, because of course I didn’t. And now, thanks to some financial crises coming up all at the same time, I’m being laid-off at Allegory at the end of the month. Yay, stress-induced mouth sores and motor tics! My favorite! So, this all means that I’m losing my job and my schedule stability, I haven’t cleaned my house properly for a month, it’s finally stopped raining and my lawn desperately needs to be mowed. Sounds to me like the perfect time to write another blog post! Today, I’d like to talk about writing, from the perspective of a reader. As an aspiring writer, I read. A lot. A really, really huge lot. Part of why I have such a hard time getting anything done, in fact. I recommend this personality defect to everyone, it makes you smarter than TV will, in addition to being drastically more useful to someone trying to learn how to write, themselves. Writing is, at its heart, specifically for reading, isn’t it? However, it’s also true that there’s no small number of things amateur writers can do to make themselves look like they need to read a little bit more. That’s why today, I’m going to talk about a few things writers often do that consistently take me out of the writing, specifically involving dialog. 1. Ridiculous children’s dialog. Children are young and inexperienced, and as a result, their dialog is going to quite often sound very different from adults. However, since “young and inexperienced” does not universally translate to “severely mentally disabled”, there are some wrong ways to do this. Keep in mind when writing a child, what age and sex they are, what sorts of words they should (and shouldn’t) be using, what sorts of grammatical and pronunciation corruptions they should be using, so on, so forth. WHen in doubt, look up videos of children from the associated age range on YouTube. It’s very difficult to take your child character at face value if they’re 13 and everyone accepts their inability to pronounce the letter R as an artifact of their youth, and not a legitimate speech impediment. Your contemporary 4-year-old is probably not going to come across as believable if they never use contractions and they address their parents as “mother” and “father” rather than the significantly easier to pronounce “mommy” and “daddy”. That shit is creepy. If that’s what you’re going for, great! But more often than not, you probably aren’t. Perhaps the most important, is in hyper-pluralization. WHen children learn a grammatical rule, they try to apply it as a blanket across all examples they see. For example, words like “mice”, “geese”, “deer” et. al, usually get redundantly or incorrectly pluralized to something like “mouses”, “geeses”, “deers”, so on, so forth. What this DOESN’T mean, however, is sprinkling extra letter S’s into every second or third word of the dialog. If yours child characters is talkings like this, that’s not Timmy Toddler you’ve just written, that’s Skwisgaar Skwigelf. 2. Hyper-formal speech for no good reason. I always found the most unnerving, jarring, uncanny-valley part of The Matrix trilogy to be the parts where the characters are in the distant future, living in a grimy underground city, eating recycled protein paste and rubbing their USB ports together in carved-out stone alcove beds, but suddenly everyone has forgotten how to use contractions, and their vocabulary choice makes them sound like they’re reading off of a formal business letter. It gets even worse when you watch movies like Battlefield Earth, where the unwashed post-apocalyptic masses don’t even have the benefit of learning how to speak in such a stilted manner while plugged into giant cornstalks. It’s weird and it’s jarring, not old-timey and proper. This goes for all time periods, but especially for contemporary and futuristic. People are lazy. The internet, the biggest and most gloriously complex invention mankind has ever conceived of, was originally drawn up by college professors who didn’t want to get up out of their chair and use two different computers. It’s hard to believe that as time goes by, people will resort to more complicated and time-consuming speech patterns just for the hell of it.

3. Middle-English pronoun abuse. If you’re trying to write Middle English, on the other hand, don’t just sprinkle in the flowery pronouns to sound pretty. There are appropriate times to use thee, thou, thy, thine, and ye, and they are not interchangeable, and it’s *really* embarrassing to use them incorrectly and have someone who understands them, have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to say. I won’t go too deep into grammar and specific use, but a simple reader’s digest is that “thou” and “thee” are simple second-person pronouns, subject and object respectively, “thy” and “thine” are possessive forms, and “ye” is the plural. There are a whole bunch of really good, quick-and-easy guides on when to use these pronouns, along with more Middle English stuff such as early contractions and grammatical corruptions that sound cool and help to add immersion to your work. Since it really is sort of a different language, it’s important to understand it before trying to write it. The alternative is to just keep being the literary equivalent of that pixie-cut mommy type driving the burgundy GMC Acadia with an unrealistically large stick figure family and “LIVE LAUGH LOVE” on the liftgate window, who tries to communicate with the Latino cashier at Best Buy by adding “el” to the beginning of every word and ending them all with “-o”. 4. Stammering. Like, a whole lot. Emotion in dialog is a funny thing. When the word choice and punctuation are just right, and the line breaks reflect pauses and body language, the reader can really be drawn in and feel like part of the story. On the other hand, some people just make everyone fucking stammer all the time like the poor character has just finished recovering from a stroke. I don’t know about you, but that *really* takes me out of the moment. This is especially common when a character is being portrayed as shy or nervous, and for some reason, amateur writers seem to like to turn the stammer dial up to 11 when writing dialog for a sexually submissive character in an erotic scene or story. In these situations especially, it makes absolutely no sense. If your character doesn’t have some sort of neurological disorder or a severe stutter, and isn’t freezing to death, th-then th-th-they sh-shouldn’t b-b-b-be t-talking l-li-like th-this. Normal people will stutter or slip in speech once in a while, especially when they’re stressed or excited, but sounding like Porky the Pig is not normal, and it certainly is not sexy. Seriously, think to yourself for a moment. When’s the last time you heard a real person, excluding those dealing with an actual stutter, or currently dying from hypothermia, who sounded like that? And no, the token shy new kid in the latest Fantasy-Themed High-School Of The Week anime doesn’t count as a real person. 5. Obtuse F-bomb surrogacy. This is almost exclusively within the realm of sci-fi, generally limited to young authors attempting to be edgy but worried their friends or family might see their work and think they’re uncreative or vulgar. It’s happened a bunch on network television, as well, but the extent is quite different. Imagine a dark and serious sci-fi adventure following the exploits of a sexy cyborg mercenary badass involving gratuitous, graphic violence, complicated, deep adult themes, and occasionally even fairly explicit sexuality, and the strangely incongruent use of hyper-sanitized nonsense versions of contemporary profanity. One moment, our heroine is murdering a band of armed thugs with a piece of broken pipe, and the next, she’s telling someone to go frell themself, or that she can’t find her fracking space helmet. It’s true, language changes. New words replace old words, the meaning and common use of such words changes and evolves to suit society’s agreed-upon use of said words. However, I promise you that this isn’t going to happen to “fuck” for a very, very long time. The word “fuck” has been in documented use in current form since as early as the 12th century, and came into relatively common use as early as the 14th. If we’re using the word in essentially the same context with virtually the same meaning more than 700 years later, and it only gets more popular, more widespread, and more socially acceptable by the day, it stands to reason that another 700 years probably won’t have a huge effect on its linguistic use as the ultimate profanity multitool. To keep it right to the point, your audience (me) is going to find the tone bizarrely discontinuous if you’re fine writing about some very dark, adult themes involving graphic violence, death, and eroticism all silhouetted against the backdrop of a grand battle to rescue humanity from the brink of cosmic oblivion, but your protagonist isn’t allowed to scream “Fuck” at the top of his lungs when he stubs his toe. You know, like normal human beings do. If you’re concerned about being seen as vulgar or uncreative with your dialog choice, then maybe use some other words in addition to “fuck”, like normal people also do. And on the off chance you’re writing for younger audiences who shouldn’t really be seeing that kind of language per modern social standards, then perhaps the adult themes, graphic violence and eroticism were a bad place to start. Just say “Fuck”. By not showing these issues in your writing, regardless of whether that’s by not having done them in the first place, or by eliminating the ones you find yourself guilty of, you make your dialog dramatically more relatable and more readable, and by extension, you and your work look a whole lot more professional. So, now that that’s done, I’d like to talk about my own writing project a little bit. It’s a long time in the making, a science fiction piece involving heavy cyberpunk and space opera themes, centered around historical allegory. Imagine about 600 years in the future, where mankind has industrialized, though maybe not perfected, long-range, faster-than-light space travel. Finding habitable planets to colonize is hard and costly and time-consuming, and terraforming planets to make them more suitable for human life is only slightly less so. In 2686, humanity is only a scant 45 years past its first large-scale interstellar war, which has just totally decimated the economy of the Core Systems, the nation which really kinda started the whole thing as a land grab. Clifford Cryer is an aging private security contractor who, aside from heavy cybernetic alteration, is not quite human. His entire subspecies was genetically for the purpose of reinforcing dwindling troop reserves during the latter half of the war, and when they came home after the Core Systems surrendered, the economy didn’t really know what to do with them. With each passing day, the sentiment against the cruel and excessive sanctions placed on the Core Systems by their enemies in the previous war cause public sentiment to grow against foreigners and nonhumans, and things take a turn for worse when his home is rocked by a massive terrorist bombing. As a result, Cryer is framed as one of the perpetrators in a massive conspiracy, forcing him to decide whether it’s more important to him to fight for survival, or to fight for the truth.

#writing #fiction #new author #writing advice #scifi

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getinthefunvee · 3 years

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mobile-friendly rules

GENERAL INFO

❔ #getinthefunvee

❔ semi-private: will generally only write with mutuals, but very happy to meet new people.

❔ exclusivity: is pre-pubescent and used as a cliquey gatekeeping & ostracising mechanism 99% of the time. I do not practice character or ship exclusivity; I will side-eye you if you do, and I will not tolerate it on my dash, and I will lay the verbal smack-down if I see you using it to bully someone else. I've been playing with some muns for nearly 5 years, and at least one for more than a decade; if anyone was going to be an exclusive, it would be those friends, but exclusivity = possessiveness and it's really, really not the way to roll your adult relationships. Note: if you choose to make me your exclusive Tony for any reason (ie, if you generally hate Tony interaction and want to avoid it, emotional safety reasons, whatever) please give me a heads up. Please be aware that, as stated above, I will not do exclusivity in return.

❔ basic etiquette: human decency is expected. Do not attempt to god-mod (it's so 90s), force-ship, engage in pass-aggro nastiness, harassment, or any other asshattery. Thanks.

❔ Personals et al are very welcome to follow and 'like' RP posts and to reblog non-RP content. Please don't reblog RP threads you aren't participating in; it's creepy, and I will call you out on it.

❔ multi-muse, side & personal journals: I will not follow you back if you run a multi-muse blog or RP from your persona that heavily features muses from fandoms I’m not familiar withl; I really need to limit dash clutter in order to be able to focus. (ADD & autism are gr8 that way.) That doesn't mean I won't RP with you on your multi-muse blog, and I'm very happy to RP with side blogs, but I will not RP with personals.

❔ OCs, female characters, obscure canon characters: This shouldn’t need to be said, but: Yes please! I look for fully-formed characters whose creation you've put thought into; this goes for 'popular' canon characters in equal measure.

❔ crossovers: Please check with me first to make sure I'm familiar with your fandom.

❔ cut your replies: Please cut your replies & repost asks as new posts when replying. (note: this is not the same as 'read mores'; I'm happy to explain the difference.) I will not follow you if you never cut your replies.

❔ You must have rules or, at the very least, your age stated somewhere on your blog. I will always read your rules before interacting, and I ask that you please do the same.

ABOUT THIS BLOG

❕ est Dec 2012

❕ 21 or over for intermittent content which may not always be tagged; I will generally not play with you if you are under 21 as I may not be comfortable writing certain content [because I'll feel like a dinosaur]. I will not RP with anyone under 18 years old, regardless of thread content or your geographical location's 'legal age.' This is not up for discussion, though I'm happy to explain the legal ramifications (for you and your RP partners around the world) of lying about your age. tl;dr I'm not going to jail so you can have smut. Thanks.

❕ safe space: This blog is fiercely inclusive. I make a point of avoiding ableist or bigoted language and terminology. Please come talk to me in chat or send an ask and tell me if I screw up. note: If you ever need to talk about anything, or if you're having a really bad day, I'm here for you & wouldn't want you to feel alone. Seriously. Come talk to me. I do have chat set to mutuals only thanks to the huge influx of spam messages I was getting, but you can always unfollow me after we’re done talking (I won’t be upset) or send me an ask if that's easier.

❕ triggers: I will tag genuine triggers when asked (please don't conflate squicks with triggers). I don't have any triggers, but I prefer not to see child abuse, domestic violence, incest, or pregnancy on my dash; if you regularly include that content, I will generally unfollow. Please see below for a comprehensive list. Triggers will be tagged 'triggery thing tw' and added to the tag dump post.

❕ formatting: usually no fancier than small text +/- 66x66 or 100x100 icon (depending on the size you use), but I will try to match your style. If you need any special formatting to make it easier for you to read, please tell me. I'm very happy to comply.

❕ pre-established relationships: I'm happy to discuss these.

❕ readmores: used rarely, but will always use for explicit dubcon/noncon content & graphic stuff.

❕ memes: generally mutuals only but will always be tagged as 'mutuals only', so if you don't see that, feel free to interact. I do my best to observe reblog karma but don't expect you to; it's all good.

❕ open posts: will be tagged clearly; generally open only to mutuals, sometimes character-specific (will specify in tags).

❕ shipping: multiship; not ship exclusive. Shipping is dependent wholly on muse interaction and never guaranteed. Tony is demiromantic and pansexual; he may or may not be open to poly setups depending on verse. He's experimental, inclusive, and flexible. Got a kink? Bring it. BDSM? He'll want to know your safeword. Three/four/eightway? He's probably into it. That in mind, I'm on the ace spectrum (see below) so mature-content threads aren't going to be that common and will generally, though not always, fade to black.

YES PLEASE

✅ duplicates, multiple 'canon' realities, AUs, cross-fandom, What Ifs

✅ crossovers, especially within Marvel & DC

✅ AUs: love, love, love. Give me your tropey coffee shop AU; better yet, give me your research-worthy Mesopotamian AU, time-travel AU, etc. I'm utter trash for Sentinel!verse (and if you don't know what that is, come at me).

✅ plot-development, complex characterization

✅ conscious, intentional, creative abuse of grammar/syntax

✅ any gender identity/lack thereof; sexual orientation/lack thereof; neurodivergent characters; disabled characters

✅ LGBT, non-cis/het, POC, or other minority versions of canonically white cis straight Christian etc characters

✅ female versions of canonically (cis)male characters

✅ dark, edgy, angsty themes up to and including psychological & physical torture, abuse, and character death

✅ complex and conscientious portrayals of trauma and mental health issues

NO THANKS

❎ self-insertion (omnipotent manic pixie Gary-Stu/Mary-Stu characters make me cringe)

❎ pages of ooc

❎ pages of graphic porn

❎ you RP nothing but smut of a variety that squicks me, such as (below) and don't put it behind readmores: - A/B/O, especially if it involves 'mating'/'breeding', pregnancy (esp cis male or cis female pregnancy), etc. Really major squick; - BDSM that uses an abundance of misogynistic language like 'slut'; 'daddy/mommy' themes; pet play; romanticising unhealthy abusive relationships ('50 Shades of Nope' comes to mind) by framing them as consensual BDSM.

❎ consistent grammar/spelling errors (note: ignore if English isn't your primary language; I’m happy to help if that’s something you want, and I speak a few languages so I might be able to RP in your language)

❎ lots of family/baby/child content

❎ 'child of'/'sibling of' & non-canon family member/friend characters

❎ anthropomorphic, furry, or 'real people' characters

❎ SuperWhoLock, anime

❎ gatekeeping, canon-snobbery, constant negativity

❎ erasure of any minority group (ie male versions of canonically female characters; suspiciously white FCs for canonically POC characters, etc)

❎ messianic anything; proselytizing

ABOUT THE MUN

✩ ari (aka kai), 30s, London (GMT)

✩ working in medicine, re-qualifying for med school entry; usually not around much Tue-Fri due to work (replies are sometimes queued & I'm usually happy to do short stuff like texts during the week)

✩ thoroughly spoken for; married to cap.co.vu (but thanks for asking *fingerguns*)

✩ introvert: very social at times (I tend to 'read' as an extrovert), but I need more distance when out of social energy. Feel free to ask me about this. I will love you forever if you respect the need for space, and will not like you very much if you insta-pounce 10x daily when I've gone quiet.

✩ jewitchy = unrepentantly jewish + low-key hedge witch (observant Reform/Conservative Jew; dash of pagan)

✩ grey-a + demi, greyromantic, as impossibly flirty as Tony Stark

✩ ADD, autism (psa: you can be super direct with me), major depressive disorder, EBS (epidermolysis bullosa), mild anxiety (when out of social energy)

✩ sharp-spoken, sharply-dressed, stickler for punctuation, polyglot, menace to society, method RPer, (mostly) good human being, guaranteed at least 80% carbon-based lifeform, will use elbows on the Tube, well-travelled, great ass (thanks, yoga!), hearts horseback riding, BDSM, dismantling the patriarchy

✩ ask box is always open, Discord available by request, IM/chat is gr8

If you feel like it, send me your favourite trope as a way of letting me know you've read these. I'm not going to ask for any sort of specific symbol, codeword, etc to prove it, but I will presume you have and act accordingly. If you feel compelled to acknowledge any specific parts that jump out at you or query something that doesn't sit right with you, we'll probably be bffs.

#|| mobile links #|| pls don't reblog thank

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fanforfanatic · 7 years

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Of the Beholder

Relationship: Dean x OFC Rating: This is not smut. Not angst. Not fluff. Not crack. It is BS. Warnings: None. Well... brief moment of violence but akin to the show. A/N: This is for @seenashwrite ‘s 200 Follower Celebration Challenge. Who I hope you follow because she is v v talented. [Nash, please don’t ask me to explain myself. It was not supposed to be this, but crack is not my forte, ok goodbye.]

~2.5k words (too many)

Summary: You and Dean go to an underground poker game of the supernatural variety. It goes exactly as planned. Or at least as close to planned as either of you expected.

Here’s the thing about the supernatural: You think of it and you think corpses. You think of the red pond the body’ll be found in and the new Pollock on the walls painted with that same blood. You think of how the body- the person got there in the first place. You think of the vicious teeth that ripped into flesh. You think of the thing attached to those teeth- and no, it’s not the other way around- red stained and grotesque and evil.

What you don’t think about is what those creatures get up to between kills. You don’t think of them cleaning up in a sink or in a shower. You don’t think of them having a home they pay rent for with sinks and showers. You don’t think of them preferring half-and-half over milk, of them loading their minivan with groceries, of them laughing at themselves at the door after looking for their already in-hand keys. You don’t think of them going out to buy new shoes, or staying in because they don’t like the humidity, or skipping twenty songs when their music player is on shuffle to get to that one. Here’s the other thing about the supernatural: It has a life.

A night life at that, which doesn’t always consist of murdering humans, which sometimes consists of shooting the shit and sharing a pint (of what exactly? you don’t know). And that’s what you’ve just walked into. Some kind of supernatural speakeasy that wasn’t easy to get an invitation to or to physically get to. You and Dean managed, though, going down more flights of stairs and deeper into the Earth’s crust than you think you have before. Excluding Hell. Well. Where is Hell even?

You whisper the question, though it is neither the time nor the place, and there is a distinct lack of answer in your ear. You turn to Dean, tuck a strand of hair behind your left ear and shake your head infinitesimally. Dean understands that the comm in your right ear isn’t transmitting anymore.

“Guess we’re on our own,” he tells you, grinning, like this is exactly the challenge he was looking for.

It’s infectious and you’re grinning too. “Aren’t we always that?” You raise a brow and paired with the stretch of your lips you wonder if it makes you look as crazed as you feel eager.

Dean lets out a loud laugh but it goes unnoticed by the bustling crowd made up of probably every type of evil you’ve ever faced. “Come on, the fun’s in the back.” The fun being an exclusive poker game where money isn’t what’s at stake. You follow Dean as he casually leads the way, weaving through the patrons.

You pointedly ignore the sheet of wood hanging over the bar, with its sick version of a menu written out in thick, black marker, but you can’t escape the snippets of conversations that reach you. Some are gory retellings and others are mundane everyday chatter and it’s the latter that disturbs you the most. The third thing about the supernatural and the lives they have: They don’t get to keep them, you decide.

It’s an embarrassingly short amount of time later that you find your hands chained to the ceiling of a stone room. A few yards away, Dean is shackled to the wall, low enough that he’s sitting down. Lucky bastard, you think as your calves strain to keep you on your toes and your weight off the tendons in your shoulders.

The room glows white with moonlight spilling in from the skylight overhead, drawing a pattern in shadows over the floor. You realise that you’re no longer in the speakeasy. Possibly nowhere near it and that the odds of Sam swooping in for an assist are slim.

Okay, so maybe, your plan to blend in wasn’t the best despite what you and Dean announced you were bringing to table. Maybe it was a bit of a joke.

“Hey, Dean,” you half whisper.

Dean grunts.

“Two hunters walk into a bar and-”

A figure steps into the circle of light. Female, dark haired, skin wrinkled and rippling as a result of having been scorched. The discoloration is cut off by a high black turtleneck. She’s wearing gloves, and boots that go up over her black jeans. The only accessory she’s sporting is a glass eye that matches her good one.

“Who wants their ass beat first?” She asks pleasantly. “And before you decide, keep in mind that I’m gradually going to get more tired, but also gradually more Berserker.”

Dean says, “Sign me up.”

“He can go first. I like my chicks a little crazy,” you shrug awkwardly.

“Besides,” Dean frowns, looking terribly sad for a moment. “I hate being picked last. Gym class was a tough time for me.”

The woman rolls her good eye and stalks over to you.

“Woah! Hey!” You shuffle back as much as you can manage on the tip of your toes. “Did we not just agree that he gets the pleasure of the first round?”

“Y’know, seeing how willing you are to get me injured is real heartwarming.”

You send Dean a look that is equal parts sheepish and grudging.

“The two of you came to the game with the Lazarus Pearl as bargaining chips,” the woman starts. “I know this. I also know they’re in your person.” She looks at you as she finishes, one beady eye focused on yours, the other just slightly off to the side.

“You evil do-ers gotta start doin’ more research. I’m the one with all the pockets.”

“I’ve done the research.” Her eye glints in amusement as it remains trained on you. “The Pearl is kept in the mind. No need for pockets. I’ve researched you too, Mr. Winchester. I know all about your history. From the daddy issues, to the mommy issues, to the people issues. The insecurity that, miraculously, hasn’t crippled you quite yet, but that happy coincidence might be because of your hero complex. And don’t get me started on this life of excess and sin. Girls, booze, deception. Still, the risks you take are calculated and walking into the back room of that quaint dive you know you were to be top of the hitlist and that made the Pearl safest with her.” She nods to you as though she hasn’t been staring you down this whole time. “Dean may be a vain, selfish, lying, and quite possibly alcoholic man-whore, but gambling is one vice he doesn’t have.”

You scoff, making sure your breath hits face, purposefully riling her up. These things that go bump in the night like to talk and talk and pretend they comprehend who people are at their core, but these things stick to the shadows and they have no real understanding of what’s in the light, no matter what day job they keep. The arrogance pisses you off.

“Dean is not selfish.”

“Yeah! Hey! That’s the only thing you want to object to. Everything she said and that’s-”

“Sorry.” You give Dean as apologising a look as you can muster.

“Cute,” the woman says. “In any case, if he’s got it, it’s torturing you that’ll get him to fess up.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dean says contemplatively. “You think so?”

“Yes, because you,” She swivels towards Dean but stays- thankfully- close to you. “Prolapsed rectum that you are - are infatuated with her, whose cobwebby old snooch, by the way, I can smell from here.”

“Hey!”

“I’m really not that fond of her.”

“Hey!”

The woman cackles, turning towards you and bending forward enough that you think you might be able to do the job. But then she’s leaning back again, out of reach again.

It has to be you who does it. It was going to be Dean back when you thought you’d be not-tied-up and playing poker. His hands are stronger- you cringe at the realisation of what you’ll have to use, now. With Dean sitting, hands shackled behind him, he wouldn’t be able to get close and that’s why you’ve both silently agreed to have the woman approach you with the very tactful use of reverse psychology (or what might just be dumb luck).

“Look,” the woman says. “Hurting you isn’t high on my priority list.” She pulls out a gun you recognise the make and model of- which doesn’t help you in any way. “I’d really rather not. It’s boring. What is a priority is the Pearl. You give it to me and I leave you and the Winchester alone.”

You purse your lips like you’re considering it.

She pulls the safety back and the click doesn’t exactly scare you but you don’t feel particularly good about how the situation is escalating. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, to get this close to the Pearl.”

You let out an unintentional laugh at the sheer irony of her words and it earns you a bullet in the thigh.

“Motherfucker!”

You grind your teeth and shut your eyes as the pain flares, hearing Dean shout your name and the sound of his chains in a distant sort of way: the echos of his words and of the clanking more so than the sounds themselves. You’ve been shot enough times that you can tell, the bullet has hit bone.

“But here’s an idea of what I’ll do.” She fires another shot, same leg but lower, cringingly near your knee but it goes through only flesh, coming out the other side bloodied.

“I have it, it’s with me!” Dean shouts, kneeling as close to you as he can with his arms bound.

The woman- Ignacia, her name is. You know because she’s been your mark for weeks.- glares sharply at Dean. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Fine,” you spit. “You can have it.”

Ignacia focuses on you again, stepping closer. “Give it to me.”

You sigh dramatically. “It’s not on me.”

Her hand shoots out and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer and pulling on the cuffs binding your wrists. “I’ve read the prophecy, girl. The Pearl is in the mind of all who keep it. I may not know how you came across it in the first place but I know it is locked in your brain.”

“You’re wrong. You’re paraphrasing.”

“What?”

“You must have been young when you first heard it, huh? It must have been decades ago. Somewhere along the way, you decided that what you thought it meant is what it said. That’s not how it works.”

“What are you going on about?” Ignacia scowls, tugging your hair back and the prickle of pain is almost a welcome distraction from the throbbing in your leg.

“All this time…” you continue. “And you never figured it out. I guess that makes sense, the Beholder keeps it safest that way, not knowing. Or maybe they did tell you, but you died at least once since so you don’t get to remember.”

“I have never died.” Ignacia, looking frazzled, raises her weapon again, aims for your shoulder this time. Huh, so the whole coming back to life thing isn’t as normal for not-Winchesters. Funny how easy it is to forget that. Still, Ignacia must remember at least a little about the time she died.

You hear Dean say your name warningly.

“I can tell you,” you say. “How you died. It wasn’t pretty. No no no no- I mean it. One of the grosser deaths I’ve come across. Like, a big, sweaty fireman carries you out of a burning building and you think- Yeah, okay, he’s gonna give me mouth-to-mouth - but instead he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation that you feel before you die- and you do die- is he’s squeezing your throat so hard that a big wet blob of drool drips off his teeth, and just- flurp- falls right onto your popped-out eyeball. That level of gross.”

Ignacia gets right up in your face and this close you think hers might have been pretty once. Before the flames ate it up. “Enough of this.”

“The prophecy doesn’t say the Pearl is in the mind. It says it’s kept in the head.”

It’s a herculean effort, but you manage to hoist yourself up and wrap your good leg around her, keeping her from escaping you. The gun goes off another three times and you think you get shot once, though you can’t tell where. Feels like a graze, with your adrenaline pumping like it is.

You lead with your mouth, teeth bared, and latch onto her eye socket as best you can. The good eye. The eye saved by the flurp. The one thing that wasn't swallowed by flames that night. The eye that has an energy embedded into it powerful enough to rival that of the eight billion souls on Earth.

Ignacia struggles to get away and you feel her hands burn against your skin- she wasn’t as inactive a witch as you had thought- but you latch on and before long you’re spitting the eyeball Dean’s way and hoisting yourself even higher with a pained shriek. You use both legs this time, as you choke the woman with thighs around her necks. She digs fingers into bullet holes- huh, so she got you in the hip too- but eventually her struggles cease, her hands slacken and her body follows suit. You let it drop to the ground and slump in your cuffs with a grunt.

“You fucking bit her eye out!” Dean screeches after a lull of silence.

You take a moment to assess your injuries, dazed as you are. You’re bleeding but you’ve got at least a few minutes. “Next time, remind me to get shot in the head.” It’d be less painful.

“Tell you what,” Dean suggests. “Next time, I’ll shoot you myself if it means I don’t have to watch you do that.”

You laugh a little, lids feeling too heavy to be kept open now.

“Hey, stay with me. Just ‘cause I don’t like where your mouth’s been today don’t mean I don’t want it revisiting some places.”

You wheeze and hope it sounds like a laugh too.

“Sam’ll find us soon. Any minute now.”

When did Dean become the hopeful one? You make a sharp sound and Dean hears the question.

“When we first started going out, I may have… injected a tracking device into your body.”

“You’re psychotic.”

“You bit her good eye out.”

You ignore him and say, “Werewolves are only werewolves once a month. Maybe they stand in the sun the rest of the time, Dean.” The words are mumbled but Dean makes them out. More than that, he gets it.

“She was a witch,” he reassures you. “With a ticking time bomb in her face and less than stellar track record, dropping bodies all over the place and ours were next.”

You nod a little dumbly, not pointing out that he’s conveniently skipped the part about how Ignacia never chose this. Never wanted the Eye. Never wanted her life to become one giant irony, where she spent its entirety searching for the thing she’s had all along. Never wanted to be a pawn in this big, twisted, cosmic game.

Dean watches you pass out. He isn’t too worried. Sam really should be moments away with Cas in tow and you’re losing blood but not fast enough that your death is imminent.

Dean sighs and slumps against the wall, rolling the eyeball between his fingers, layers peeling back to reveal a pearl inside. It glows, inside out, but only when he’s really looking for it. He grins, he might give you shit more often than not but damn if you don’t know how to get a job done. He laughs to himself, at his luck.

“Goddamn psychopath,” he says fondly, glancing at you for a moment before tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. That’s wherefrom I’m peering into the lives of these characters. Dean’s green eyes, in turn, peer into my soul, because that’s what Dean’s green eyes do. He says, “Hope you liked it, Nash,” and then, just because Dean is a bit of a shithead, he winks and adds, “Sweetheart.”

Boopboop: @hannahindie @escabell @trexrambling @impandagrl @klaineaholic

A/N: I did my best. Do not shun me from the community xx

#nash200 #dean x reader #dean x you #dean fanfiction #spn crac #attempted #my writing #Of the beholder #i'm sorry #sweetheart #wtf did you just read #i dont know #dont ask me #fanforfanatic

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years

Text

Chad & CoCo Essence Cover Headcanon

*Keep in mind that this comes from the Breakfast Club interview that I posted last night Just something that I wanted to get out of my head. That’s why there are no tags. Feel free to ask any questions about it that may have not been answered.*

You and Chadwick were tapped to be part of BET and Essence magazine’s “Black Love” campaign.

Each issue featured a different couple and spread centered around their relationship.

Your cover was the second to release behind Iman and Teyana Shumpert.

On the cover, Essence titled the issue “America’s Royal Family.”

Underneath was an oil painting of you, Chadwick and Micah, designed to mimic those that you would see in a palace or the White House.

Chadwick stood behind a throne in “Wakandan” attire, smiling fondly at you and Micah in a version of what the stylist believed a Queen and Princess would wear.

The spread itself featured exclusive photos of your family interactions inside the home.

The first was a picture of all of you on the bed, smiles all around while you and Chadwick tickled Micah.

Another snapped you all in the kitchen, Micah scolding Chadwick as he tried to reach in and take something from the bowl that you were mixing food in. Her little grumpy face made both of you smile at what she seemed to be a punishment for his actions.

In other places in the spread, Essence got a hold of some throwback pictures of you and Chadwick before you started dating.

There’s a picture where you’re sitting on his lap, pulling his head close your chest and smiling while you rest your chin on his head. He’s smiling too with his arms wrapped around your waist.

They also found the picture of your basketball senior day where he managed to take pictures with you and your family like he was supposed to be on the court that day. The ceremony was strictly for family of the senior players and, somehow, he found his way down there with a balloon in his hand.

Your favorite of the throwbacks is from a homecoming where he’s feeding you Que chicken with a smile on the yard. That day, you accidentally matched each other’s outfits, further fueling the dating speculation in your inner circles.

When asked about your advice on remaining in a healthy relationship Chadwick took over, answering “Make sure you marry your best friend. It might sound cliche but you have to marry someone that you can get along with when all the extra stuff fades.”

On the status of your pregnancy: “It’s still early. We prefer to keep the sex of the baby a secret once we know, though. We want to make sure that we can keep this portion of our lives as private as possible. “

On balancing work and love: “Communicate often. Share your feelings honestly. Use FaceTime and don’t backup your screenshots to iCloud.”

On compromising in a relationship: “Wives, we are not always right. We are most of the time but, still listen to him and be fair.”

On who is the most affectionate: “Definitely, Chadwick. He’s just privately affectionate. He loves hugs and kisses, especially when I initiate them. He’s all for the affection.”

On settling disagreements: “I don’t allow her to end the day mad at me. Whatever happened, we need to talk about it before we go to bed. Even if we don’t come to an immediate agreement, we need to put it all on the table and decide where we’re gonna go from there.”

On who where’s the pants: “We both do, mine are just cuter.”

There’s bonus footage on the Essence website of him and Micah singing the Finesse remix to your belly during one of the outtakes of the photo shoot.

There’s also footage of Micah explaining marriage to people.

“It’s like, you know, when a mommy and daddy hold hands. And then, like, they say ‘I love you’ all the time and they make the kissy noises *imitates a kiss*.” My mommy and daddy do kisses all the time and I’m like *sticks her tongue out in a disgusted manner*. They kiss all the time. I don’t get it.”

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