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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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𝒖𝒏𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅

this is the more extended version of my unwanted drabble, thank you to @jessybarnes for some of the ideas. I hope you all enjoy.

summary - steve tricked you before kidnapping you, leaving you locked away in the basement as you begin to mess with his mind.

warning - angst, mentions of killing, mentions of sadness, mentions of being trapped.

the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

“What? You want me to meow or something?”

Steve sat there shocked, staring at you with wonder. It’s as if you had no care and weren’t freaking out like others. He stares into your eyes, seeing nothing there, and his head tilts as he looks at you. “No..?” He looks confused, wondering. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t.” You state, turning your head back to the wall and staring at it. You miss how his eyebrows shoot up. “So… When are you going to kill me?” You pick at your nails, continuing to feel stupid for thinking someone like him would actually want you. You turn your head when you don’t hear a response and tilt your head as he stares at you, confused. “That’s why you tricked me, right? To kill me, you didn’t exactly pretend to like me, drug me, and tie me up in your basement because you’re madly in love with me, and that’s the only way you thought you could get me.”

“You’re not afraid? Why aren’t you screaming, crying or swearing at me?” He’s so confused, getting closer to you, kneeling before you as he looks into your eyes. “Why is there nothing? You’re so empty.”

You blink, staring at him blankly. “If you don’t mind, ‘Steve’. I would like not to talk and for you to just get to the point.” You move away from him, crawling up the bed and lying on your back as you stare at the ceiling. “I’ll be here… Waiting patiently for my death. Not like I have anywhere to go.”

You let out a sigh when he left the room, one side of your mind begging for him to stay and the other staying quiet. You couldn’t let yourself fall for his stupid face again, and you didn’t want to beg someone to love you. You wanted that to come naturally. But you don’t think that will ever happen because… You were you, and people didn’t like what they saw.

Steve was curious, and you were like a puzzle to him. He had never met anyone so void of emotion and missed the woman he met. You seemed so happy and carefree, sure. He did notice that you were more closed off and didn’t seem to let him so close. He wanted to change that. He needed some sort of reaction, some sort of emotion. How can you be so calm during all this? Steve left you alone for a while, barely acknowledging the other women locked up, barely acknowledging his wife and kids, or the women he promised dates to. You were occupying his mind, and it was driving him crazy. He had destroyed most of the upstairs, trying anything to get you out of his head. He couldn’t take it. The look in your eyes, your words, it was all getting to him.

Steve remembered your dates and how you told him about the books you used to write. He recalled that you said it was the only thing that made you genuinely feel something, and an idea sparked. Steve gathered a notebook, some pens, and some food and water before making his way down to the basement. He knocks on the door before sliding it open and smiling at you. “I brought you something that I think you’ll enjoy.” You continue to stare at the wall, your eyes tired. Steve sighs, softly walking over and placing the items before you. “I’m trusting you with these pens, but if you do something—”

“You’ll what? Kill me?” You scoff, eyes slowly moving to connect with his. “That was already your plan, and this would make the killing go faster.” You roll your eyes, barely looking at the things he placed before you. “Did you need anything else? Because I’d rather you just hurry this along.” Your head turns again, ignoring him because what was the point of giving him any more attention?

“Why are you behaving like this? I bought you some of the things I remember you talked about. You should at least feel happy?” Your head falls back as you let out a laugh, startling Steve, who stares at you as if you’ve grown three heads. “What? What’s so funny?!” Why wouldn’t you just submit?! Why were you so different from the others?! It bewildered Steve how you could sit so emotionless and then laugh as if he had said something funny.

“You. Do you think giving me a notebook and pens would suddenly make me happy? Did you not stop to think that you are the problem? I have already come to terms with the fact that no one will ever love me, that you only pretended so you could kidnap me and kill me. So why aren’t you killing me?! Why are you taking your sweet time?!” You snap, struggling against the chains as you stand and move toward Steve, punching his chest. “Kill me! Kill me, goddammit!” You scream, your eyes are still emotionless, yet your words hold so much power.

Steve holds your wrists, stopping you from hitting him. He stares down at you, wondering why his heart clenches like this. “No.” He moves away, needing to get out of this room and get away from you as you make his head fuzzy. He watches as you stare at him in disbelief.

“So, what… I’m not good enough to love and not good enough to kill either?” You sink back onto the bed, your eyes staring at the wall as you realise you will never be good enough for anything or anyone. Steve quickly leaves the room, going through the house, destroying more things on the way. How could you get into his head like this? No one else had done it, so why were you so different?

You sat there, staring at the untouched notebook before slowly reaching for it, and as you grabbed the pen, the words began to flow out of you and onto the page. Everything you felt deep inside was coming out through stories. Not feeling in the mood to eat or drink, you spend most of the day and night writing. As many more days pass, Steve comes in and out with more gifts and food. You continued to ignore him, not knowing how to react, waiting for him to decide when it was your time to die finally. But the day never came. You think a month had passed, but you weren’t so sure. Steve walked into your room, undoing the chains and holding out his hand. “C’mon. I’ve prepared us some dinner.” You stare at him warily before slowly standing and following him. He leads you to the kitchen and pulls out the chair for you.

“Why am I out here?” You sit, tapping the table, watching him place the food onto the plates, not daring to touch it as Steve sits across from you.

“I’ve come to realise something, and at first, it scared me. You’re different from the rest.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. Do you know how confusing this is for me? You’ve taken over my mind, and I can’t focus on anything else.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’ve stopped you from tricking other women into believing you love them.” Your eyes roll again, leaning back into the chair. “Do you need a tissue?” You pick up the napkin beside your plate, offering it out to him.

Steve stares at you blankly, his eye twitching as he’s stuck between wanting to strangle you and make love to you. “No, I do not need a tissue. I’m trying to tell you that I feel something for you.” He’s startled again as you laugh.

“You feel something for me?” You feel tears prick your eyes as you continue to laugh. “Oh, god. That’s probably the funniest thing I’ve heard. I think you are delusional.” You shake your head, and your laughter slowly dies down. Your eyes connect with him, and you stare. “You’ve already got me here. You don’t need to keep lying to make yourself feel better.” You continue to tap on the table. “So… When am I going to die?”

“You aren’t. I’m keeping you alive.”

“Oh, great. Fantastic. Sounds so fun to be alive and kept locked away in a basement for the rest of my life. Good plan.” You give a little clap and throw him a fake smile. But deep down, your stomach twisted, and your heart dropped. This was worse than waiting to die. Now you would be locked away, unloved, and eventually wither away. Your expression on the outside stayed void of any emotion.

“No, you will stay up here. With me.”

You wished you had never even gone to that stupid market. You wished you had never believed Steve’s stupid words or smile. How could you be so stupid to believe someone would ever choose you?

You were unwanted.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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accio-victuuri · 7 months

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“big name bxg c-fans earn a lot because cpf give their money to them instead of xz and wyb.” 💀

I wanted to address this comment i saw yesterday but I had to organize my thoughts first as best as i could. I also knew GRA events are gonna take up a lot of my time so i had push it back. However, i want to post about it here even if the topic associated to this didn’t blow up that much (thankfully) cause it irritated me. I’m very used to certain fans having a skewed view of bxgs. I understand that no matter what we say, the prejudice is too heavy to even see reason.

So this is more of to explain to bxgs how this statement is completely wrong and why it shouldn’t even be said in the first place.

Let’s start with the context.

On 11/2, when there was supposed to be an entertainment ban, a few hot search tags popped up. The boys’ name or even BXG was not on it but it sort of involved the fandom. The gist is this person is a former big name BXG account back in 2019 who is now a yxh. They earned a lot from that work and was able to buy “ 8 houses”. That was actually what got on HS, the idea that someone who is working as a yxh can be that rich.

I guess people missed the fact that this person earned the money from yxh “work” and not being a BXG account. Some just saw “bxg” so they made a connection and so the comment i posted above was a common statement. The fact that XZ and WYB are top stars too added to the conversation.

First of all, being a big name account that posts about XZ and WYB back in 2019 isn’t that hard. Untamed was at it’s peak that time and so were the active fans. The drama was airing. They had appearances and were practically everywhere. It would not take that much to get the likes, follows and engagement for 2 people that had a lot of content going on. After that, when 2020 rolled in, I understand how some people on the c-side of things will fall off. They probably had new interests and I think the same goes for that account. They were there at the height of it and learned how being a profitable blog works. So I wanna say that this fan was seasonal. To say that they “represent” all big name bxg blogs is totally unfair.

Next i wanna address the concept of profit and “cpfs giving money to big name accounts”.

The easiest way is engagement to a blogger’s post. It may not be me giving the money in my pocket to them literally but they get earnings from engagement & through ads/ affiliate links. This concept is not new to BXGs. It’s the same as any other influencers out there. So the accusation of spending money to big name accounts instead of supporting the boys — in this case is misleading.

You can argue that a regular person, even so/os fall in this trap when they engage with blatant anti accounts. When they comment and share those posts, they give them the engagement.

Now there are two other ways that bxgs give their actual money to these big name accounts.

1. Fansites. Those that share HQ photos and videos of them during events. How they make money aside from engagement is selling photo-books. What’s important to remember tho is there is an unspoken rule among these sites ( not just bxg ones ) that a huge part of the earnings will be spent on charity and buying endorsements by the boys. they post receipts. Not everyone of them is perfect and some have their own issues and closed down but that’s just how it goes.

2. Fan artists. The concept of fan art & merch have long been alive and is honestly one of the best things about fandom. It gives a chance to artists to make something and earn from it. I have to say that this is the more lucrative one cause the really popular ones have their products ( usually the dolls ) sell out so fast and have months of waiting list. The same fan sites, there is a rule for them to use the money for charity.

Here is a post I made before about some of those charities but that’s a very small list compared to the actual initiatives that were done for years.

As for supporting the boys, these accounts buy endorsements, magazines of them in the cover ( in bulk ), organize LED ads for their birthdays or fandom anniversaries, sponsor peripherals for bxg gatherings, host block screenings for movies etc.

Lastly, however someone spends the money they earned is none of anyone’s business. These people on the internet thinking it’s okay to gloat about how they are the “best fan” out there because of how much they spend on a celebrity is so crass. It’s like giving Yibo a gift and leaving all the tags on cause you want him to know exactly how much you spent on him.

I appreciate fans that do spend. I really do. It helps alot with their brand value and career. I personally buy merch and watch content on paid platforms. However it should not be a way to measure someone’s worth as a fan. There is no need to shame people who want to spend their money elsewhere and not XZ or WYB. This kind of toxic mindset is largely prevalent in c-ent fandoms that some international fans are adapting. If there is something that the CCP and I agree on, it’s that this practice shouldn’t be demanded of fans. The idea of “how dare you spend on something you like” ( whether it’s a product from a big name fan or whatever ) exposes whoever is saying it as that kind of brainwashed fan.

So anyway, participate in the fandom in a way that you are comfortable with. We all have different approaches on how we take part in it and there is really no need to keep receipts. ✌🏼

#personal #fandom #bxgs #bxg #yizhan #bjyx

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oopsyoufoundme · 1 month

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Get to know me! ౨ৎ

i don't use tumblr to post at all, but i thought id start a small account just posting Hayden pics and reblogging fics etc!! (maybe some drabbles eventually 🤭)

my fave Hayden role is Scott Barringer and i swear we need more Scott fics because i never see enough (and plus, he's such a cutie)

my fave Hayden film in general is either AOTC or vanishing on 7th street (again, i film i don't see people talk about which honestly baffles me because i think its amazing!)

i have a fan account on TikTok- if anyone can find it ill be incredibly impressed lolol

my dad actually met Hayden in his 2003/4 ROTS era so I'm super jealous 😔

I've watched every single film of Hayden's except American Heist and trapped in a purple haze because they aren't available on illegal sites 😔 (don't come for me pls i cant watch them on anything else)

side note- i have loads of fic recommendations and AU Anakin ideas so ask and ill share some! x (i also have like every single Hayden/Anakin role and AU bot on c.ai- again if you want one just ask x)

random stuff- i listen to like every single genre of music and its hard to find something i don't like! my current fave artists are Sade, Madison beer (who i saw in concert recently yay!) and TV girl (but i love metal and rock and literally everything). My all time fave film is The Virgin Suicides- don't even get me started on it because i will talk forever and ever about it (not to mention Hayden is in it!!).

anyway, that's all for now! if you read this all, i love you mwah ⋆୨♡୧⋆

#hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker #made with tumblr #attack of the clones #rots #hayden x reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader

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monty-glasses-roxy · 9 months

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bonnie protecting roxy from shitty visitors and helping her feel better if they pick on her

(This really unstuck my brain on this so thanks for that anon!!)

Okay so. Bonnie has basically made it his job to take care of Roxy like this. He's seen how her first weeks in the Plex, trapped in the construction site of her attraction treated her from the window I'll forever pretend is still there in the Bowling Alley. If there's one thing about Bonnie, it's that, regardless of who it is, if something needs to be done, he'll make sure it gets done. This is the entire basis of their friendship, that I'll go off on in another post.

Now, Bonnie protecting Roxy from shitty guests? Well... he can't always do it of course. He's not shadowing all day after all. But often enough, with that big window in Bonnie Bowl overlooking the Raceway, he has his ways of helping her out without having to actually be there. If he sees her getting yelled at by a parent, or by a manager, or struggling with some kid's temper tantrum, he sends her a little alert through the network. Just a little buzz noise, nothing major. She knows what it means.

She looks up to the window, and he'll be right there trying to cheer her up from a distance. They're programmed to know various sign languages so he sometimes uses that to directly communicate with her, or to simply start insulting people behind their backs. Sometimes he just starts dancing horribly. Sometimes he holds up something cool or a drawing a kid showed him of her and other times, he'll rally the kids in the bowling alley to the window and either start a goofy dance party or a 'who can pull the funniest face at Roxy?' contest. She swears that on some days, his little acts in that window are the only thing that's stopped her from snapping. He keeps the games going until he sees a smile, which can be quite the challenge sometimes, but he's up to the task.

On better days, she'll sneakily shoot him a middle finger and he'll get to very dramatically gasp with his fingertips on his chest and laughter from all those that saw. They don't even just do this when things are looking bad. They're just always checking the window for each other now and coming up with new shit to pull when they can see each other.

But Bonnie will always draw her attention through the network if he thinks someone is mistreating her, or she's having a real long day. It's a little harder for Roxy to do it given he's above the Raceway and not exactly easy to see, but she does her best to return the favour.

If drama starts while they're together though and it's aimed at Roxy? Bonnie won't put up with it. His reaction is immediate. He steps between them and deflects the attention onto him, asking Roxy very politely if she can handle whatever task he just dropped to help her out, and takes whatever they throw at him. She's tried doing the same for him, but she's um. Not as patient or as seamless. He appreciates the effort but says hanging out with him after hour to bitch about people with him over a game is way more fun and helpful.

Why does he do this? Cause he knows how hard she tries. She's a new face here at the Plex. Her attraction is closed so often that her popularity - one of the most important things that keep them from getting scrapped - is always fluctuating and difficult for her to maintain. He sees and hears about the lengths she's gone through to give kids that never paid for a party, the best birthday party she could possibly give them. He would do the same of course, but it's a lot easier for him given his popularity, his unflappable nature and the fact the staff actually like him and are willing to pull a few strings on occasion.

He would do the same for any of the other animatronics of course, but due to Roxy and Bonnie's proximity and the window between their attractions? He's able to be there a lot more for her. There's even a shortcut behind the lanes (I believe anyway I don't actually remember where it is but that seems the most likely place) directly to the track so if things are getting out of hand, he can swoop in and save the day.

He might consider her an ass most of the time, but someone hurting her over things she either has no control over, or just to try and get free shit from management, is something he will not tolerate. He's a good guy after all!

#fnaf security breach #roxanne wolf #glamrock bonnie #pop rox answers #this just makes their storyarch all the worse btw #in case you were wondering where I was going with them

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cptsamerica · 9 months

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EDIT: I know this poll is over, but I am still genuinely curious if people have thoughts on Logan's timeline/which version is more accurate. Please feel free to leave comments :)

(Also the 1 vote for Option A was me accidentally clicking it as I scrolled on my main account lol)

Okay so I know logan is not everyone's favorite apprentice, or one they dislike completely.

He is one of mine for sure though (tbh i love them all), and I have some thoughts on his timeline I wanted to hear what others thought on them because I felt like I interpreted things differently.

I tried posting on reddit about this but it sounds like I don't have enough karma or something for it to post so I'm coming here haha I'm not on that site ever so we'll blame my naivete on that :)

I used a sideblog for my normal account to post here where I don't have anything else posted, but who knows this could become my saw sideblog.

A. Interpretation I always hear of Logan's timeline...

Logan is an xray tech and messes up John's scans.

Logan in the barn trap due to his careless xray mistake. John saves him because HE made a careless mistake on Logan with the tranquilizer/sedation so Logan didn't deserve to die.

Logan helps with RBT

Logan goes to war. His kid is born some time in here. He gets PSTD after being a POW and is discharged.

Logan comes back from war and begins work as a medical examiner while in treatment (I believe Halloran read something about official PTSD treatment in the movie somewhere like on a computer?).

Movies 1-7 would happen between #4-5.

Logan's wife dies. 2 years later, Jigsaw 2017 happens.

B. What I had understood Logan's timeline as...

Logan starts working at the hospital (while being treated for PTSD) as an Xray tech. Because he's dealing so much with his PTSD, he makes the careless mistake of mixing up xrays including John's.

Logan gets married young and joins the army. He is a medic there, becomes a POW, and gets PTSD. Is discharged. Gets sent back home.

I am super aware that's not the right timeline nevessarily for the war they indicated he was in. They seemed a little confused on those details overall as was, which CZ'S world mentioned in his video so that's why I think this is a possibility.

Logan in the barn trap due to his careless xray mistake. John saves him because HE made a careless mistake on Logan with the tranquilizer/sedation and realized Logan shouldn't have to die for John's mistake. Logan says he came back from the war a broken man and Jigsaw put his life together. I know the 10 years since the trap thing is a general time amount and will never be perfect, but this at least jives with the came back from the war a broken man after the war thing. If he went to war AFTER the trap, it seems kind of odd (not impossible though) that jigsaw/jigsaw's method would have put Logan's life back together when the trap would have happened so many years ago.

Logan helps with RBT.

Logan goes off to his family (I can see John encouraging that since he personally did not get to do that with his family) and gets further treatment for his PTSD (which I believe Halloran had read about on that screen in the movie? I think ZZworld mentioned it).

This is when movies 1-7 would be happening (#5-6)

Logan (outside of occasionally being the muscle for John or doing surgery/medical help with gordon) lives his life quietly off to the side, working on his mental health/PTSD and being there with his family. This would explain Logan's absence in the original movies though: He believed in the cause, but also wanted to live his life with his family/daughter for John, who did not get that with Jill and Gideon. Logan's daughter looks about 1st-3rd grade level as well, so this makes a little more sense he would be in a place to have a child during this quiet time and after treatment, than when he was actively in the middle of or just finishing treatment for PTSD as I think option A would require?

Eventually, after enough treatment, Logan transitions working as an xray tech to a medical examiner during that giant gap of time, potentially after the death of the medical examiner by Hoffman (was that in #6? Not sure which movie it happened in but there was definitely a job opening after that).

Logan's wife dies, jigsaw 2017 happens.

I'd love to hear any thoughts on this or just votes in general :) I'm really curious if I found connections where there aren't as concrete of ones, but I have seen a few other people who also thought the same interpretation as me.

I saw someone asking if it was even possible for logan to be in Saw X because he was away at war and it confused me tbh

#logan nelson #logan saw #jigsaw #jigsaw 2017 #jigsquad #saw apprentices

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kanra-nakura · 4 months

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[Rambling] Stolen/Repost Stories

The gal of some people!!

Hi Guys!

This is not an update but a slight rambling/rant.

I recently learned from you guys that someone is reposting my stories, From Caged Marines to Whitebeard Pirates and the Admiral Brother, without my permission on Wattpad under a different account and name, this made me angry, especially when I saw the Admiral Brother being posted on Wattpad. (From Caged Marine fic is already posted on Wattpad under my name, as well as fanfiction.net).

The Admiral Brother is a story I adopted from RulerOfTheCosmos, I made sure to ask permission from them and I gave them credit for this. The sites that I allowed The Admiral Brother to be on are AO3 and my Patreon account, aside from that it won't and shouldn't be posted anywhere else but this person dared to post this story without my knowledge as if they have the right to do so.

They even have everything up to date, especially From Caged Marine, which I updated on the 25th of December (shocker they also made an update the same day as well). And it's not only me, there are also stories from my fellow authors as well, I normally won't be upset about something like this as long as you ask for permission and give credit to us authors, of course.

I don't know if my fellow authors are experiencing the same issue as I have when it comes to updating or creating stories... but as an author, I already found it hard thinking about what words I need to use or put in each chapter, what scenario should be there, and if an idea popped up then I have to write it down followed by thinking on when or where should I add that.

Knowing that someone posted my stories to their account and other sites (in the case of the Admiral Brother) without my permission or even giving me credit is no longer making me angry alone but hurting me as well as I type this down. The stories that I enjoyed creating and sharing with my readers... now seem to be taken from me. Everything that we, I, authors worked hard for seems to be someone else work, a work that is very easy to do since they can just copy and paste everything.

Guys, it's not that hard to ask permission, we will give you answers if you ask us, and I will give you some answers! Someone asked me months ago a permission to translate From Caged Marine to Spanish, and I allowed them, I told them that it was fine as long as credits were provided... but the person I'm talking about right now is not the same one who asked permission.

I had a lot of words to say when I first found out about this... now, I am at a loss... and I'm afraid I have to be a bearer of bad news...

I won't be updating my stories to any sites, aside from Patreon... for now.

I am filing a report against this person and I will be checking other sites to see if my stories are also posted there. I will still be putting previews on Tumblr but chapters will not be shown on Wattpad, FFN, and AO3 unless... And until everything is resolved... there will be no updates...

I don't want to do a no update, since I have been missing a lot of them, but since this person updated my latest From Caged Marine on their account on the same day I did... I won't take that risk anymore.

I will be needing your guys' help and that is to report this person as well.

Here are the links

Until then...

#kanranakura #ramblings #justice for authors

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acacia-may · 1 year

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Treasures

Description: When Finesse falls ill, Finral wants to send her a gift to show her that he's thinking of her and wishing her well. Of course, this is easier said than done...

Rating: G

Warnings: Very Slight Hurt/Comfort due to Finral's insecurities and Finesse being ill, but it's really just fluff here

Fandom: Black Clover

Genre: Fluff (and extremely slight Hurt/Comfort)

Relationships: Finral Roulacase/Finesse Calmreich

Characters: Finral Roulacase and Finesse Calmreich

Word Count: 1893

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another site.

Many thanks for this request and the opportunity to write about such a sweet pairing and two of my favourite Black Clover characters! Much love! 💕

Story Below the Cut. Thank you for reading!

Finral hummed thoughtfully as he perused the shop aisles. He set the handkerchief he had been carrying around with him for the past five minutes or so back down and realized that he had walked in a complete circle around the store. He fidgeted. There were far too many choices, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he didn’t have the slightest idea what Lady Finesse would like best if she was here to pick out a gift for herself. Finral sighed. The problem was, of course, that Lady Finesse would never pick out a gift for herself. She was far too humble and gracious for that. Finral smiled slightly at the thought. It was just one of the many things that made her such an incredible and kindhearted person, but it also made her difficult to shop for. He supposed he didn’t really need to shop for her at all—in fact, she would probably insist that he didn’t need to get her anything, if she was here. But she wasn’t here. She was at home—ill, which was the reason he wanted to get her a present in the first place.

Sighing, he examined a whole line of vases again, but they were all starting to look the same the longer he stared at them. Maybe he should just pick one and send it with a fresh bouquet of cut flowers… But that seemed a little generic, and he felt that Lady Finesse deserved something very special—she was his fiancée after all. But even more than that, she was probably the kindest person he had ever met in his life and an absolutely amazing woman. Beautiful and generous with a real gift for seeing the best in people, even in him. He wished he could be the man she saw when she looked at him, and he wanted nothing more than to be the best he could be for her—to be worthy to stand by her side and spend the rest of his life trying to make her happy. It was still a work in progress, but he felt he was making good strides in the right direction. Or at least he would be if he could decide on this present.

After at least another hour of aimlessly wandering around the shop, Finral left emptyhanded, feeling rather defeated. He shuffled his feet as he walked through the town to clear his head and hoped that maybe some inspiration or new idea would come to him. Unfortunately, he kept getting distracted by the sounds of fallen leaves and branches crunching and snapping under his feet as he walked. It was a beautiful Autumn day, crisp and clear with a slight wind and a bright blue sky. He wished Lady Finesse could see it, but she had been trapped inside with a terrible cough for the past few weeks. In all the time Finral had known her, Lady Finesse had never complained about being ill, though he was sure it must weigh heavily on her to be so frequently stuck indoors and under the weather. He had been hoping to cheer her up by bringing her a present, but after the fiasco of indecision that had been his shopping experience, he supposed he should probably let go of the idea. Besides it wasn’t as though there was anything that he could possibly buy for her could make up for the fact that she was unwell and couldn’t go out into the garden she loved so dearly. Finral sighed. She must miss the outside. But he couldn’t exactly give that to her…could he?

Finral’s brow furrowed as he was suddenly struck with an idea. Perhaps, taking a walk for inspiration was a good idea after all.

*-*-*

It wasn’t one day later before Finral found himself fidgeting in the Calmreich’s front entryway. Lady Calmreich, Lady Finesse’s mother, blinked at him somewhat confusedly from her seat in the nearby parlor where she was working on her needlepoint as their house steward whispered something to her.

Finral swallowed hard as she frowned at him, carefully setting down her needlepoint and walking towards his general direction. He had always gotten the impression that Lady Calmreich was not particularly fond of him though Finesse had assured him that it was not personal and that her mother was simply confused and exhausted by all of the drama surrounding their engagement, particularly the fact that his parents had failed to clarify for several years which of their sons Lady Finesse was actually going to marry. Though that had all been sorted now, the entire situation had left Lady Calmreich with a distaste for the Vaudes in general. Finral wasn’t sure that he could blame her for that, and he probably wouldn’t blame her if she was disappointed that her daughter was now going to marry him rather than Langris who was much more successful, responsible, and accomplished. Lady Finesse always encouraged him that eventually her parents would warm up to him when they got to know him better, and in the meantime, of course, Finral tried his best to be cordial and, hopefully, earn the Lord and Lady Calmreich’s approval.

“Good afternoon, Lady Calmreich,” he said with a polite bow, but Lady Calmreich merely sighed wearily.

“I’m not sure if Finesse is feeling well enough for visitors today, but I suppose I can ask.”

Finral’s cheeks flushed. “Oh please don’t—that isn’t…um…I mean, I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I was just worried about her and wanted to drop off this gift.” He wrung his hands around the handles of the basket he was holding as Lady Calmreich’s eyes narrowed at its contents.

“I see...” she replied with a stern but subtly disapproving expression that caused Finral to fidget even more nervously than before.

“I’d be happy to visit with Finral for a little while,” Lady Finesse gently interrupted as she slowly made her way down the main staircase into the foyer. Finral could scarcely hold back his smile and his relief to see her up and about with a tint of color in her pale cheeks. Though he certainly tried to respect her wishes, he never could manage to stop himself from worrying about her every time she fell ill even when she asked him not to.

“I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced like this,” he said as his cheeks grew warm, but Lady Finesse merely smiled at him with a kind shake of her head.

“Oh no. There’s no reason to apologize at all. I’m glad you’ve visited. I—” She paused as her cheeks flushed a faint rose, and she smiled slightly. “I missed you.”

Finral’s own face turned red, but he managed an understanding nod and an “I missed you too.” Almost without thinking, he reached out for her hand, but before he could take it, Lady Calmreich cleared her throat pointedly. His blush deepening, Finral recoiled and curled his hand into a somewhat awkward, loose fist. He was definitely out of practice in the world of "proper" courtship for the Clover Kingdom's upper crust nobility.

Lady Finesse gave him an apologetic glance, and when her mother had returned to her needlepoint, asked, “How have you been? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

Finral shuffled his feet feeling suddenly guilty for having not written to her. He had worried about bothering her when she wasn’t well and had only been trying to be polite. In all honest, he was also still trying to get used to how much contact was appropriate—he already knew he and Lady Finesse talked to each other much more than other engaged couples in similar betrothal situations and the last thing he wanted was for his obvious affection for her to be deemed unseemly and cause her some sort of scandal or distress since this was technically still an engagement for an "arranged marriage."

“I’m sorry,” he said, deciding it was probably best to offer apologies rather than explanations. “I’m alright—a bit busy but alright. How are you? Are you feeling better?”

Lady Finesse nodded. “Much better. The doctor says that I might be able to go out again soon.”

“I’m glad.” Finral smiled. “Until then, I thought…” He stopped, his face growing suddenly warm again as he began to trip over his words. “Well…I thought…I thought since you couldn’t go out, I would…um…” He held out the basket to her, and she gasped in surprise. “This is for you.”

Lady Finesse tilted her head curiously at the basket but kindly insisted, “Finral, this is so sweet, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to,” he said as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But…um…it’s nothing really just a couple of things that I thought you might—” Miss… He mentally finished his sentence, suddenly worrying that if saying that aloud would have been insensitive. Maybe his entire gift was insensitive… His stomach churned, and he suddenly wished he could just grab the basket and disappear through a portal. It was too late, however, as Lady Finesse had already taken a seat by the parlor window and begun to empty the basket's contents: brightly colored leaves, two pinecones, a handful of acorns, some nuts and berries, a branch, a few sprigs of thyme, a thistle, a squash, two potatoes, a few bird feathers, a chrysanthemum, and an apple that Finral was sure was as bright red as his face as Lady Finesse carefully lined each of the treasures up beside her on the windowsill. He made the mistake of glancing over at her mother who was side-eyeing the gift over her needlepoint with a sort of disdain that made Finral feel queasy.

He opened his mouth to begin to apologize, but Lady Finesse immediately cut him off with an excited, “They’re wonderful!”

Finral sighed in relief as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “I’m glad you like them,” he said meeting her eyes. “I was trying to decide what to get you, and I know you’ve been stuck inside for a while so I thought maybe I would try to bring some of the outside, inside.” He chuckled lightly as he sheepishly rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I can get you another present…something better if you don’t…”

“Oh no, please. This is perfect. Thank you. Very thoughtful,” she insisted as she reached out and took his hand, giving it a shy but reassuring squeeze. Finral’s cheeks flushed.

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you…would you mind telling me a little about where all of these came from?”

Finral nodded. “Sure. Of course,” he said with a smile before he told her about some of his adventures and favourite nature spots. His heart soared when he watched her eyes light up as she listened to him tell her about the changing leaves in the forest behind his squad’s hideout or the family of birds that lived on Mount Anahu or the field of chrysanthemums outside Nean. Someday, he promised himself, he would take her to all of these places to see them for herself and their basket of treasures would become happy memories. But for now, he had made her happy, had made her smile, and that was enough.

#black clover writing requests #finral roulacase x finesse calmreich #finesse calmreich x finral roulacase #finral x finesse #finesse x finral #fin fin #FinFin #they're so sweet #finral roulacase #finesse calmreich #lady finesse is underrated #black clover fanfiction request #black clover fanfiction #limited edition romance writing event #can acacia write romance? let's see...#thank you for the requests and your support #thank you for reading!

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lettheladylead · 2 years

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running in circles

chapter forty-seven: i’m no good on my own anymore summary: Goldie tries to get Scrooge’s attention once again. warnings: references to sex, nothing explicit wordcount: 2600 playlist (will be updated as chapters are posted): shorturl.at/bfBCQ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33776632/chapters/103404354 site link: https://sites.google.com/view/running-in-circles/chapters/chapter47

here’s chapter forty-seven!! text will also be included in this post for those of you that don’t use ao3:

2019; Florida & Duckburg:

Embarrassing.

That was the only word that could properly describe how Goldie felt when she woke up in a weird metal box, stacked on top of other prisoners in other boxes like they were collectible items.

She was well-known in the world of adventurers as someone difficult to take down. Other adventurers feared her! When they heard her name, they’d run for the hills!

(Okay maybe that wasn't quite right, but she had some kind of reputation for being tough!)

So how could she have fallen for Heron’s trap so easily? Was she losing her edge? Was her advanced age getting to her? Maybe that dip in the Florida youth pool left her older than she was before. Because that nonsense shouldn’t have worked on her. And yet, here she stood - in the dark, in despair, completely dispirited. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew Scrooge was at the center of it.

Scrooge would be fine. Mostly Goldie hoped that Sharpie was alright, though. He was a sensitive kid and based on the number of other prisoners around her, Goldie had a feeling that something really big was happening.

After all, it wasn't often that she was targeted by Scrooge's enemies (unless they were also her's). And sure, she didn't like Black Heron and they'd fought in the past, but Goldie had never considered them enemies. She barely knew anything about the woman aside from being insane and wanting to rule the world. So generic.

Being generic didn't make her less terrifying, though. Goldie wasn't going to move past the shame of how she was kidnapped for a very long time. Thank God no one else knew about it.

—

Goldie hadn't heard from Scrooge. It'd been four weeks since their adventure in Florida and she thought he might call her or reach out in some way or another, but instead she was stuck staring at her phone like a child.

Sharpie still managed to text her every once in a while, so Goldie knew Scrooge wasn't insanely busy. He must've just been too busy for her.

It was extremely agitating. She'd thought they made some significant progress. They did! They talked about things that should've been talked about decades ago. And yet…he was blowing her off once again.

It was reminiscent of just a year earlier when she left him the invitation to come to Yucatán with her. He never said anything about it, not even when they saw each other again.

Goldie sighed and tapped her fingers against the counter. She wanted to get his attention. Piss him off like she always loved to do.

Normally, she'd just go to Duckburg and steal something from the Money Bin or the Other Bin, but he wasn’t spending much time at home lately, from what Louie had told her. They were constantly traveling. So she’d just have to give him a call and announce her latest caper.

Which would be…well, the fountain, of course! They’d specifically agreed to leave it where it was, so why wouldn’t she steal it? It could go on display at her Blackjack, after all. Maybe she’d fill it with the liquid gold from White Agony Plains. Even through his anger, he’d have to admit that her showmanship was unmatched.

So Goldie rushed back to Florida. It was like the opposite of Dawson - so many people, so fucking hot - but she liked it. And she didn’t mind wandering the relatively empty hotel-owned swamp. She supposed it made sense that once Spring Break was over, there’d be less people at the hotel. Also the teenagers from before probably warned everyone about the youth-sucking waters…if they were even paying attention. Most of them seemed so drunk and high that Goldie wondered if they had any idea at all what they’d been through.

She wandered very casually through the trees. Her spatial memory was excellent after so many years of adventuring so she knew exactly where to go. The cropping of trees that hid the fountain was familiar as if she’d been there only yesterday, and Goldie waltzed through the brush to find……..

…nothing.

Well, remnants of something. An empty area where a fountain used to be. It was distinct, she could see the imprints in the ground where the fountain once was.

The little hamster wheel in her head started turning faster as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. There were only tiny splashes of water left in that fountain, certainly not enough to age or de-age someone in any significant way. So Rockerduck had no reason to take it. And unless he suddenly had friends, the only other people who knew about it were herself and Scrooge.

It was a bit presumptuous of her to assume, but this wouldn’t be the first time Scrooge had taken something in anticipation of her taking it first. Didn’t make it any less annoying.

She took out her cell phone and dialed his number aggressively. Sure, she’d planned on taking the fountain herself. But he seemed pretty adamant about them leaving it there! Where was his patented McDuck Integrity?

After an angry voicemail left on Scrooge’s phone (because of course he didn’t answer) and an interrogative text sent to Louie, Goldie started back towards the hotel. What else could she do?

She walked for a few minutes when her phone buzzed. She found a message from an unknown number and stopped in her tracks, only a half mile away from the hotel.

Goldie. I got a new phone. Can I see you?

Goldie glared at the message. She could only assume it was from Scrooge, but what impressive timing. She left him a voicemail on his old phone and he immediately sent her a message on the new one?

Against her better judgment, Goldie responded.

Where?

She only waited a few seconds before his response.

I’m at the hotel. I knew you’d come for the fountain.

Goldie hummed and continued walking towards the hotel. She was annoyed at his actions, but…really excited that he came to Florida again to see her. Did he have something planned? Was he going to ask her to help him and his family in their latest adventure? Or was he just in the area and thought it’d be fun to spend some quality time together?

She wasn’t complaining about any option. It was just nice for him to reach out to her for once.

As she entered the hotel grounds, Goldie looked around carefully in the hopes that she could spot him before he found her. She always enjoyed the look on his face when he was surprised.

But it was quiet and empty, and Goldie didn’t want to go searching.

Where at the hotel?

Once again, he only took a few seconds to answer.

Around front.

Goldie walked around the building to find a black van sitting alone in the parking lot. She wondered what Scrooge needed a van for. It was kind of an odd choice for an adventurer, though maybe it wasn’t an odd choice for Florida.

“Scrooge?” she called out as she walked closer to the van.

The back door of the van started to wiggle and she smiled, walking all the way up. “What’re you up to, sourdough?”

As the door opened, Goldie had less than a second to register Black Heron’s malicious grin as a bomb exploded in Goldie’s face - sending her flying backwards and filling her lungs with a cloud of green smoke.

She was still slightly conscious as her body was dragged into the back of the van, but Goldie lost all sensation by the time the doors closed again.

—

She should’ve known better than to fall for the old Fake New Phone trick. If that was even a standard trick, she couldn’t keep track of what evil annoying people were doing these days. All she knew is that she should’ve known better and it was embarrassing to think back to that stupid, stupid moment.

In all her self-loathing and anger, Goldie almost missed the sound of the pod containment thing next to her opening up and someone being thrown inside. She frowned and walked over to the window, hoping it was someone she knew or at least someone who she could work with to escape. She’d already gone over everything herself and there was definitely something scientific and magical combined to make her cage unescapable.

(Also she hadn’t eaten or slept in days and wasn’t hungry or tired, so she had a feeling she was in some sort of time stasis. Was she even aging?)

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the familiar figure of Santa Claus rubbing his head and groaning at the pain of being thrown so harshly.

Great. Not only did she get a man who was useless, but he was also a complete bore when it came to conversation. She wouldn’t even be able to enjoy talking to someone. Fantastic! How much longer would she be trapped in a box next to the world’s most dull immortal?

Before she could back away from her little window, Santa looked up and they made eye contact. She stepped back, but it was too late - the damage was done.

She heard an awkward throat clearing. “Um…Miss O’Gilt? Is that you?”

Goldie rolled her eyes. She’d only met Santa twice and she didn’t enjoy either time. “Yep.”

“Where are we?”

“Do you think I know the answer to that?”

She heard him shuffle around, probably to find a more comfortable seating position. “Of course, my apologies. Have you…heard or been told anything about why we were taken? I can only assume it’s related to Scrooge.”

“No kidding,” she said quietly. “I’ve got nothing for you, Claus. But if some villain is going out of their way to make sure people like you and me aren’t around, it can’t be good for Scroogey. They’re probably going after his family, too.”

“O-oh, dear…that sounds terrible! Is there…do you think there’s anything we can do to help?”

Goldie rolled her eyes and knocked her knuckles against the wall. “How do you expect to help from in here? Gonna write a strongly worded letter?”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I just want to help him.”

“Of course you do.” Goldie picked at some of the feathers on her fingers. “I don’t think he’d want your help, either way.”

Santa pouted. “We actually made up this past Christmas, I’ll have you know. He certainly doesn’t hate me anymore.”

“Is that so?” Goldie was surprised to hear that, though not surprised that Scrooge didn’t tell her. It wasn’t exactly relevant to her, considering the only times she’d interacted with Santa were times that he was trying to get in touch with Scrooge and ran into her instead. She had a long history of stalking and obsessing over Scrooge, but Mr. Christmas was so much worse, in her opinion. Scrooge set up death traps around his house to send a message and the guy still couldn’t take a hint. But, well, it sounded like things worked out for them in the end. Hip, hip, hooray? “Congrats.”

“Hmm. Forgive me for saying so, but you sound less than sincere.”

“What do you want from me? A medal?”

A brief silence again, followed by, “No.”

They fell into an extremely awkward silence, staring at the walls of their individual cells. Goldie wondered if their captors - Black Heron and whoever the hell she was working with - knew that putting her next to Santa would be its own kind of torture. Hopefully whoever ended up on the other side of her little cage would be better conversation.

—

After going over all the strange voicemails and text messages he had, Scrooge and his family discussed what they’d all just learned. Bradford and the other Buzzards working for F.O.W.L. was something they’d been made aware of in the past few weeks, but the scale of his nefarious reach was much greater than they ever could’ve expected.

He and Beakley had a long conversation about their expectations for what was coming. She’d confessed to him years ago that she was hiding from F.O.W.L. and he assumed it had something to do with her daughter’s death, but he never asked. They didn’t have the kind of relationship where they shared the saddest parts of their lives with each other.

All she said was that she wanted to protect Webby. She’d said as much back then and she confirmed it again after the latest attacks. Webby’s safety was her priority, one hundred percent.

Scrooge agreed (though he included the rest of his family in that resolve). But they didn’t have any more information and they didn’t have time to go check out each crime scene and find clues. They just needed to be prepared for the next attack.

With that in mind, Scrooge decided it would be in everyone’s best interests to reach out to any available allies and see if they had his back. Their local allies were easy to talk to and all of them were willing to fight for the Duck family if need be.

Goldie, however, was always a question.

She’d shown up during the Moonvasion, but didn’t actually help. And Scrooge was honestly still a bit suspicious of her real intentions about coming down to Duckburg that day.

But this had the potential to be much bigger. He didn’t have any idea what F.O.W.L. had planned. But they had plenty of resources and villains working for them, if they were anything like they were in the 60s. Goldie’s help (plus her experience facing off against F.O.W.L. in the past) could be vital in their success.

But when Scrooge finally called her back, there was no answer.

Not just no answer, he couldn’t leave a voicemail. It said her phone number had been disconnected.

Was she really that upset about him potentially taking the fountain?

Scrooge groaned and sat down on the living room couch, staring down at his cell phone. He’d thought they’d made a lot of progress in Florida, but then she just went back to stealing as usual. Was she trying to piss him off? Trying to get his attention?

If that was true, then why would she disconnect her phone number?

He refused to believe that everything they discussed back then was just some kind of trick to get the fountain to herself. He’d known Goldie for too long to believe that, and if she really wanted it she could’ve taken it back in March.

Maybe she’d just dropped her phone in the toilet. Or over a cliff. There were plenty of options that didn’t involve Goldie purposefully breaking contact with him.

“Have you heard from Aunt Goldie?”

Scrooge looked up as Louie walked in the room, holding his phone. “Not since the voicemail.”

“Well none of my texts are going through anymore.”

“Her phone is disconnected, accordin’ to the phone company,” Scrooge answered sadly. “I dinnae know how to get a hold of her.”

Louie frowned and sat down on the couch next to his great-uncle. “Are you worried?”

He shook his head. “No. Goldie makes herself unreachable sometimes, but…I’m sure she’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Louie tried sending another message that received another ‘Message Cannot Be Sent’ response. “Well…I am. This is a really bad time for her to disappear.”

“It is,” Scrooge said, more pondering out loud than answering. “It’s very, very bad timin'.”

---

DUCK FRANCHISE REFERENCES: - Yes it's here! We're onto the end of DuckTales. You'll recognize Goldie leaving Scrooge a voicemail, the one where she calls him a double-crossing cad, from the episode "Escape From the ImpossiBin!". - Goldie's kidnapping and all references related to that are from the series finale, The Last Adventure!

#ducktales #scroldie #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #louie duck #santa claus #black heron #very briefly lol #running in circles #fic #fics

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kalmeria · 1 year

Note

Scrolled up to vote for Noel when I saw the post that was had the name together with the picture

What is witch's heart? Something you recommend?

yay, thank you for voting noel!

witch’s heart is an rpgmaker adventure/horror game about five strangers who get trapped in a mansion that is said to be haunted. the game is split into scenarios that focus on the different characters, and as you progress through it you start to find out the truth about the house and the reason these particular people ended up there…

a tagline for the game is “do you have a wish you’d be willing to kill for?” which i think sums up pretty much what you should expect: varying degrees of traumatic backstories, as well as depictions of murder, blood and gore (it’s not like hyperrealistic depictions bc of the art style but still.)

it’s a story focused game with some combat elements but it’s nothing too difficult. you play through the events of each day and uncover more and more of the secrets and mysteries… before reaching the inevitable end of the story, after which you continue with another scenario, with different perspectives and different outcomes. (there’s also a bunch of little side quests where you can explore the mansion and stuff which i found a lot of fun? also minigames with the characters!)

it’s free to download btw, the english translation is made by vgperson, they also have content warnings and some guides on their site.

i know i enjoyed playing it and have been thinking about replaying recently (i just wish one day the creator will finish all the scenarios)

#it’s hard to talk about without getting jnto spoilers so now i somehow ended up not even talking about the characters..#noel is a very very sad young man #other than the mc clair and the four ppl she gets trapped alongside with there’s also four demons who show up and make the rest of the cast #*claire #also the game gets a little meta in a way that i enjoy in games like this #i hope this makes some kind of sense it’s pretty late rn kfjdsgs #i’m sure other ppl would be a lot better at giving a pitch #witch’s heart #perfectpinkprincess #answered

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what-do-1000-swords-look-like · 1 year

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Okay, Hologramcowboy, I'm not even sure what you expect me to say after all of that lol. (Link) But since you claim you're blocking me after reblogging my post more than once, I guess I'll give it a shot:

"Intelligent, classy people just block. Like what I'm going to do to you after responding to this. ;)" -> I never had a reason to block you until now. I came across your posts due to other blogs I follow that for some reason follow you and it would also be suggested to me from time to time on this site, which is what happened today and how I saw your unhinged post.

"You failed to mention the vicious hate ask sent in my inbox." -> A vicious hate ask? Probably because I don't follow your blog and didn't know one was sent. Also, why would I? That has nothing to do with my post. I never sent it. Seriously, do you just make imaginary attacks up to make yourself sound like a victim to your readers? Or do you just go around blaming random people for any hate that you've incurred from your actions?

"Never stated that Danneel or Jensen read my blog. They don't get the rumors from tumblr, they get rumors from their team doing market research. Which you would know, if you did, in fact, have a clue about their industry. And I say team as in singular because Danneel does not have the pull or value to have her own high tier team and leeches off of jensen's. If you think actors don't have a set strategy to reposition/rebrand themselves when rumors affect their image then you are sadly deluded." -> Oh, um, okay lol, how do I even respond to this? Oh my goodness. First, you don't know a thing about me or what I know. For all you know, I could be a part of the industry that you snobbishly claim to know all about. I know very well how it all works, thank you. Secondly, you obviously don't understand the basic concept of sarcasm which is clear throughout my post. Third, do you think I care about Jensen or Danneel or their teams to the point that you do? Nope.

"Thirdly, instead of acting like an immature bully, consider the fact that not everyone needs to love what you love. The world is a diverse place. Learn to enjoy what you love and truly believe in it instead of attacking others who are deeply secure in their views." -> Thirdly? When did you make a second point? An immature bully you say? I never once used your name or @ you, for all you know this post could have been about someone else, another anti that posted something unhinged about Danneel. The fact that you jumped to claim ownership proves one thing only: you are seriously that unhinged. I certainly wouldn't boast about that. That's not the point of pride or flex you think it is. If anything, it's tragic. And immature bully - who reblogged me so I would get mobbed by her readers and get the mean girl treatment? How mature is that and in what world is that not bullying? Instead of messaging me or asking me outright who I was talking about, you instead reacted emotionally and did the immature bullying move here yourself.

"Goes without saying but since you seem less than sharp and unable to grasp this:" -> once again, you don't know me so don't pretend to know how I grasp things

"When I write "hey danneel", I'm not actually talking to Danneel, I am venting, something I am entirely free to do on MY BLOG. The fact that you would even for a second imagine I was speaking to her shows you have some serious biases and project a lot. Danneel does not read my blog, read that again, Danneel does not read my blog." -> Um, babe, you do realize that you are ironically using the words 'biases' and 'project', right? From the few posts I've seen come my way recently from you, your biases of being anti Jensen and anti Danneel are indeed 'biases'. When you say that Jensen has an alcohol addiction, that Jensen is an absent father, even going so far as to say one of his daughters has a mental issue, that Danneel purposely got pregnant to trap Jensen, that Danneel has mental issues, you do realize you're 'projecting', right? Especially your Danneel is 'ABUSING' Jensen post. Which, sister, if you don't understand what abuse actually is, maybe you should shut your mouth. Not because it's about Danneel or anyone else, but because you're literally harming abuse survivors by casually throwing that word around. Don't believe me? Look it up, sis.

"Also, as per my disclaimer, my blog is for entertainment purposes only. If you dislike it in any way, do not read it. Read that again, do not read it." -> once again, I don't follow your blog so why would I read your disclaimer. Good for you, I guess?

"You don't want drama? Don't start it! I was sent your post by someone who ran across it." -> Lol, sure, Jan. I think the reason you jumped on this post so fast that you found is because you know it speaks truth.

"Just so you know, if you or your bully friends see any of my posts, it's because you are purposefully looking through the Anti tags, which means you are purposefully targetting and then acting holier than thou." -> Say what? I just said I don't go looking for your posts or your blog. I just told you above how I saw your posts and it's been happening that way for a while now. I'll turn your words back to you: "You don't want drama? Don't start it!" And acting holier than thou? How? How is me bringing rationale to the table that you keep setting with your obsessive takes acting holier than thou? And, sis, why would I target you? Seriously. Just like you mentioned, this is MY BLOG and I can post my opinions on here, same as you. Don't like it? Block me like you said you would.

"You have an obsession with a couple of Z listers, you're no brain surgeon so please dial down the histrionic drama and fake outrage and act like a responsible adult." -> Obsession? In what world am I obsessed with Jensen? Did you fail to see the header of my blog when you saw my post and dived into it? "No celebrity standom" Once again, how do you not know I'm a brain surgeon by trade? It sounds to me like you make an awful lot of assumptions and you really do remind me of those online bullies who like to use words as weapons. Don't worry, I'm not insulted, just disappointed. And histrionic drama and fake outrage? Sis, I wasn't the one that reblogged your post to my mean girls clique in order to garner feigned sympathy and support because I realized what an assholish post I made and didn't like someone's alternate take on it. You keep mentioning all of this hate you get, have you ever taken a look at yourself and wondered why? I don't condone it, no one should ever send hate. Been there, received it from AA's myself, but damn, girl. Look at how you're acting.

"P.S: Next time you or your friends send hate anon messages, have the guts to sign them and show the world what you really are like inside your heart and mind." -> Le sigh, once again, I don't send hate anon messages nor do I know of anyone on here that does. First, I'm an adult and I can handle myself, thank you. Second, I do sign my name when I leave asks, thank you. Because I don't have anything to hide and I don't leave hate messages. In my book, that's cowardly and I despise it. Like I mentioned above, I've been through that before myself so why would I perpetrate that against someone else? Even if I don't agree with their unhinged takes and I can clearly see that you're unwell after receiving these messages from you?

"Let me help you by blocking you so that you won't ever be bothered by my posts again." -> Cool, thanks. I very much appreciate that actually. How kind of you after all of that spewed vitriol.

"Have a nice life that hopefully doesn't involve foregoing your dreams and goals over a sad z lister like Danneel Ackles. Seriously, you're meant for more in life than just limiting yourself to worshipping a has been "actress". I hope you give yourself the love and appreciation you are projecting unto her." -> What? Lol. Seriously? Okay, babe, seriously and I mean this compassionately now, I don't know where you learned this form of gas lighting from but if there were ever a statement that encompasses that form of psychological abuse (trust me, I would know), it's that. Thanks for the well wishes, I guess? Wow. I kind of feel like Emma Stone in Easy A right now. "Did I just get saved?" Smh. And since when do I worship Danneel? If you actually looked at my blog, you would see that I don't worship anyone. Once again, "no celebrity standom". Question, are you an AA in disguise by chance?

@hookslinesandsinkers I never sent any hate asks to anyone. I don't believe in that practice. First, no one deserves hate no matter who they are. Second, I would sign my name if I truly thought going to her blog to say something to her was worth the trouble. I've been through the AA hate swarming thing myself in the past. I don't condone that.

Hologramcowboy:

"Yes, it had to be this blogger because the ask was using key words they used in this post. Funny how they failed to mention in their post that they send anon hate which, of course, they won't ever own up to. 🤣🤦🏼‍♀️ Ah, fandom, keep being cray cray." -> That's why you're incorrectly accusing me of sending you hate asks? Because of keywords? Lol! What keywords? "Jensen"? "Danneel"? "Birthday"? "Unhinged"? Omg, I don't even-- 🤦🏼‍♀️ You know what? You made your point, Hologramcowboy. It's obvious that I nor anyone else on any social media site should ever pay attention to what you say. Congratulations. You win. You're clearly spiraling and you are beyond paranoid. You go around yelling at people for doing the same thing you're doing on this site, then falsely accuse them of doing worse things than that in order to paint yourself as the crucified victim and gain sympathy from your readers. I wish nothing but the best for you moving forward. I really hope you get well.

Holy hell, and I thought the AA's were bad. The language used in reblog comments alone. I've seen antis say some messed up things over the years and AA's say worse, but that's a whole new level of unhinged. I've managed to get away from abusive personalities like this one over the years, I have no desire to invite another in. No thank you.

#anti antis #spn fandom bullshit #anti hologramcowboy #anti jensen hate #anti danneel hate #anti hate period

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noellevanious · 2 years

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See ok. If Tumblr blaze was at all consistent. I wouldn't even mind all the silly stuff people blaze without being self aware.

But like. I'm on my phone constantly. I look at it at work even. I'm always checking my dashboard.

I legimitately haven't seen blaze posts in a week and just saw about 10 blaze posts in the past 10 minutes, including a thirst trap, a random image of a comic from the 90s, somebody advertising their star wars ace merch, and somebody just saying "we love you person!"

And like. People paid money to show us this. People consciously paid money to put them on our dashboards.

It's like whiplash. It's like you're following that random person you forgot about who went dark for a few years, got really into something you have no interest in, and comes back every few weeks to reblog a single post.

But also this person paid money for you to see it.

Now I do wanna clarify: I'm not going to directly mock anybody that does this. Well except. Maybe the thirst trap person because I don't want to be forced to see somebody I don't know in their underwear.

But this is genuinely crazy. It's fascinating. It's very much like (forgive the now overused term) a social experiment where these people who've spent most of the time on this site in ehco chambers are allowed a momentary glimpse into another world. Multiple other worlds.

I'll probably go another week or two without seeing a blaze post again. And then it'll be some crazier shit like fandom drama or something

#Inanegargling

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ominaterthegreat · 4 months

Note

I'm not the best in the world with words and this is obviously a really emotional topic, and with good reason, so I'm going to apologize in advance if this comes off the wrong way.

I just wanna be upfront that I'm not concern trolling or trying to pull any bothsides-isms or trying to dimish any tragedies and I'm coming from a place of genuine sincerity and concern.

But some of the pro-Palestine posts you've been sharing worry me. A fair number of them contain false or debunked information.

It's important to double check claims and to have a healthy amount of skepticism regarding reports from any party involved.

Israel is carrying out a genocide, absolutely.

But it's worth remembering Hamas is an overtly antisemitic organization who would do the same if given the opportunity. Their leadership isn't even based in Palestine snd they have every reason to lie or inflate claims about Israeli activity and have put significant effort into attempting to convert anti-zionism with antisemitism and create dog whistles.

That's ultimately what adds another layer of tragedy to the entire event. Israel is even significantly responsible for Hamas' rise to power but that's a history topic unfit for a small ask like this.

Just be careful and keep a cool head and scrutinize everything you read.

I've been following you for a long time and I'd hate to see you accidentally fall into a propaganda pit.

Hey (sorry idk how old this is cause I never look in here) thanks for the concern! If I'm being real I have 2 responses to this:

You're absolutely correct. Hamas as an org is awful as we all know. I definitely fall trap to the uh, issue where we're so inundated with info and opinions and through being on sites like this and pinterest through the years I got kinda conditioned to just reblogging. Typically if I reblog something it's cause there's some grain of truth strain that I see worth sharing at least - I don't agree with every word in every post and I'm too tired to take the time to specify in the tags of every post which parts are worth sharing. That's probably a character flaw on my part.

In the other hand, I do think it's important to understand that to many Palestinian people, they could see Hamas as the only group bothering to do literally any fighting for them. This comes with two points: A - how do we expect Palestinians to reject the only people they see actively fighting for them? and B - Hamas almost certainly counts on this. I think they saw an opportunity to get power in a nation where people don't have any and propped themselves up as the hero - and to many, they now might very well be. That keeps people from looking too hard at the ugly side. I am aware of this. (note because people on this site do not know how to read in good faith: I am not saying all Palestinians like Hamas or view them as heroes, I do not view a nation of people as unilaterally the same as their government. Common sense disclaimer) While I want to support the only group bothering to physically "defend" Palestinians, I also know that they are vile at the core of their ideology. So please rest assured I am not trying to just blindly support a hate group with no understanding and no limitations of support. I don't support Hamas - I support the Palestinian resistance.

Thank you again legitimately for the reach out. It's good to talk to other people instead of just posts on here.

#anyways #yeah i like never get asks lol #thanks for reaching out anon i forgot i have followers at all #anyways if you spot something that bothers you you can dm me

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t-rexmittens · 10 months

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Hmm…with the update Welcome Home got, it’s got me thinking.

Thoughts are under the cut (for those who haven’t seen everything yet) (warning! long post!!!)

This kinda goes into theory/headcanon-ish territory, mostly because it’s just me trying to make sense of everything.

What if this is kinda like Bendy and the Ink Machine? The creators wanted their show to be the bestest and absolutely the most it could be, so why not use some dark tricks to bring the characters to life, hm?

Wally is the most aware out of everyone, we all know this. Maybe the reason the show disappeared was because Wally saw something or learned something he shouldn’t have (if we go along with the BATIM-inspired idea) about how he and his friends were created.

Wally knew something was wrong and I suppose to hopefully save everyone in the moment, caused something to happen for the show to be pulled. Maybe it has something to do with all the strange black goop that’s gotten everywhere.

Later, the restoration project is made, and Wally is found once again. He does everything in his power to get a message across, to be heard. He wasn’t heard during when the show was airing, so this is his chance now to expose what actually happened. Maybe he’s purposely trapping the restoration team into documenting everything, hence the whole “picking up the phone” & “opening the envelope” thing. His message must be heard through any and all means necessary, even if that means “cursing” some people to continue with the restoration project.

But just as much as Wally is watching us—something is watching him too.

He has to lay low, hide pieces of his message in the hopes someone who is clever enough will find it all, help broadcast his voice. Hiding secret pages, messages in image file names, even an alternate version of the site itself with pictures (possibly that Wally himself took?) to show a snippet of what’s going on.

I don’t think Wally is evil, just desperate. And though he can be a little unsettling at times, he means well.

Then again, I kinda subscribe to the idea that the puppets themselves are alive and sentient, and it has something to do with that black goop that can be seen sometimes. To me, that idea just makes sense.

Though, again it seems like Wally has some kind of message. Something was going on behind the scenes during the show, and Wally knew…something was wrong, maybe.

Plus, the idea of a lil guy, a lil puppet guy being alive and sentient through dark means is a fun idea to me. That lil puppet guy knowing that something or everything is wrong and fake and this cannot go on anymore so everything must fall. That lil puppet guy being alone for who knows how long, waiting for someone to listen to his message and warnings, find the clue he’s laying out. I find that idea very fun!!

Plus-plus, Home has always been hella sus to me, so that’s something.

Ah, I’m rambling, ehe. I love Welcome Home, and all the new theories the update provides us Neighbors with. Still, I think Wally and Co. were brought to life by dark means, Wally saw or learned something forbidden and cursed, did something to cause the show to fall, then just waited for a chance to be heard about the dark goings-on behind the scenes, though his methods are…questionable, to say the least.

I wish you all the highest karma,

-Saint

#saint speaks #welcome home #welcome home puppet show

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unoisveimved-un-proffesional · 2 years

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Alright, I've been thinking.

Opinions, are dumb. Where am I going with this? Well, opinions as an idea are stupid. There are certain things that are objective truths and it should be the goal of people to work towards the truth instead of being all humphy cause it's their opinion.

That being said, there are also subjective truths, and these mostly lay within people. Some people don't have a problem with being punched in shoulder by a stranger, an objective truth. I don't have a problem with being punched in the shoulder by a stranger, a subjective truth. You don't have a problem with being punched in the shoulder, that's your subjective truth, and so only you can confirm or deny it.

Now, where am I going with that? Well-

As an LGBT person, in both sexuality and gender, I self identify with the word Queer. Always have and always will like the way it sounds and what it means. It simply means strange or weird without any of its less than happy history, and I like it and so do many others. But, there are some people out their who really don't like this word. If I were of any lesser intelligence, I would say they had no reason, it's just a word. Of course, being that I am the absolute pinnacle of humanity and there is no greater intellect than I, almighty guru of all, I can realize why people are uncomfortable with the term.

Some people are okay with having other people say it, some people aren't. Some people would probably like a Q word pass, others would have it accessible by all, and others would shelve with other offensive language, best never used.

What this brings me too, is an interesting interaction I had today. I as an offhanded comment saw and reblogged a post (I bet you can tell which one) attempting to state "I'm personally fine with it being used to describe me, but you do you! It's alright. Everyone has preferences and those should be respected!" However, that is not how history played out. I put little thought into what I said, and I payed for it. I thought to myself, in that exact moment, as if some cruel joke by the universe "It's fine! Nobody will care! What's the worst that could come from intruding on someone else’s post and saying something unnecessary?" But, now that I think about it, maybe it was necessary. Not for anyone else, but for me. Mistakes make you stronger they say, and I'll wear this one with proudly, seeing how much I've learned from it.

It's an embarrassing awful mistake, and I am ashamed to have made it, but that's all in the past now.

I went through multiple stages of insecurity throughout the time that post had been up, but eventually, history came to repeat itself, in the reverse.

One day, while on reddit (I use multiple social sites, haven't touched twitter in almost a year now though) I got into a debate over the word "Trap" I thought during that time that it was harmless and people were overreacting. As I soon found out however, things weren't all "Libtards mad" (not that ever thought that way, but to grossly simplify it and boil it down it was similar) the term Trap had a long standing transphobic history I chose to ignore until I couldn't ignore it any longer. I said "Well the correct term is used for Femboys and only transphobes use it transphobically." Completely disregarding the blatant stupidity in that belief.

And so, I said, I said to Orville, and this is what I said, I said "Orville, I realized something. I was wrong the entire time." Now one thing that really stuck to me was when the other redditor said "Have you actually heard any trans person say they're okay with this?" And if I had my gender figured out I would have totally played that card, because that was the kind of crap I was back then.

The story doesn't end their though, after finally growing up and (in hindsight, somewhat awkwardly) began apologizing and thanking the other redditor, I found new peace within myself. Until eventually finding out their were trans ladies who called themselves traps and who were on femboy subreddits. It baffled me. I didn't understand why a trans girl would be so comfortable with those terms. This is because I thought of everything still in objectivity, not realizing that some things are only subjective truths.

And like how some black people aren't okay with the N word, plenty of trans people aren't okay with the T word, and it seems pretty split between who is and isn't okay with the Q word, it's all based on people's objective truths, and you should always respect the truth. The idea of what is and is not true will always change, and you should always go in search for truth, but you should also realize the difference between the objective truth of the universe, and the subjective truth of a person. From the laws of nature, to a sense of humor, there lies a truth that deserves respect, even if it's not the same as yours.

Now here's some hilarious memes I made based off of recent interests.

#i was also gonna say something about someone telling me to kill myself and how at first i thought it didnt matter #but it seriously fucked up my day and actually had a negative impact on me #not that it wasnt deserved but i think people should be more thoughtful of what they put out their to others #you. me. everybody.

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kittenofdoomage · 2 years

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Reparations (Dean Winchester)

Summary: Dean forgets something important and has to find a way to make it up to you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: 3871

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, slight relationship angst, non-hunter-but-aware-reader, romance, more fluff, smut

Ao3 Link (most of my works can be found here)

Tumblr Masterlist (a small selection of fics posted here)

Patreon (early access and option to request fics)

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR REDISTRIBUTE MY WORK IN ANY FORM ON ANY SITE. 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT (MINORS DNI)

Dean threw his duffel bag on the bed unceremoniously, ignoring Sam’s chatter as he stomped to the bathroom. Once in there, he splashed some water on his face, leaning on the edge of the grimy sink and staring into the slightly blurry mirror as the liquid dripped off of his jaw. It had been a long drive, and he wasn’t all that happy to be spending the entire week away from you. You’d been gracious about it, like you were with every case that came along, choosing to remain at the bunker as you weren’t, and didn’t want to be, a hunter. Mostly, you kept to the sidelines, occasionally drawing a devil’s trap or researching if required but the hands-on work was left to the boys. You existed in their lives as Dean’s girlfriend, his comfort, the small slice of normality in his weird existence, and Sam’s best friend, as well as someone to keep the home fires burning while they were off saving people and hunting things.

Popping his head through the open bathroom door, Sam appeared in the mirror’s reflection and Dean straightened as he saw him, grabbing for a towel to dry his face.

"Dude. You okay?"

"Yeah,” Dean grunted, patting the towel against his throat. “Just wanna get this hunt over with and get home."

"You seem a little -" At his brother’s warning look, Sam shut up, clearing his throat and motioning to the papers he’d gathered on the table. "Nevermind. Wanna go through what we got, nail our vics down?" The older Winchester nodded as he tossed the towel across the sink and stepped out of the small bathroom. "So, we’ve got six victims. All male, all in their thirties, all missing livers, kidneys -"

Dean interrupted, squinting at the date on the local broadsheet. "Is this today’s paper?"

Sam glanced at it and nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Groaning, Dean slumped down onto the end of one bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I knew she was being off."

"Who?" Sam asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Y/N." Dean dropped his head into his palms, shaking it lightly. "She was acting funny. Like, she didn’t mind us going away, but she was dropping hints and I’m such a freaking idiot, I completely messed up!"

"Dean, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about."

"It’s her birthday,” Dean sighed, resting his hands onto his knees as he squared his shoulders. “And I forgot. Worst boyfriend ever. I can’t do anything right."

"Why don’t you call her?" Sam slung an arm over the back of his chair, twisting slightly to watch his brother get to his feet and begin a slow pace around the room. Dean growled in frustration.

"And say what? “Hey honey, sorry I forgot your birthday. I’ll bring you home some entrails!”. I can’t make this up to her, Sammy! I forgot her friggin’ birthday!"

"To be fair, you guys have only been dating, what? Six months? And you’re not great with dates."

"That doesn’t excuse it," Dean grunted, slumping down onto the edge of the bed again. "I don’t know what I can do to make it up to her."

The room descended into silence, and Sam chewed his lip thoughtfully as he looked back over the papers. Dean picked at his nails, and his brother knew that internally, Dean would be punishing himself for a long, long time for this. But Sam knew that with the right apology, you’d forget it. After all, you loved Dean. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew more than most how forgetful the elder Winchester could be when he was stressed.

"Look, we’ve got a week. How about we get the case done, and then we plan something that’ll make Y/N completely forget that you forgot her birthday?"

Dean looked up at Sam, chewing the inside of his cheek, slowly nodding along though his brother could see the cogs turning in his head. “You know… I think I got an idea.”

Usually, you parked your little compact outside the bunker, but today it was raining heavily and you didn’t really anticipate any thrill in a dash to the door without getting wet, plus you had several bags of groceries that you did not want to juggle through puddles. Parking in the garage was the obvious option, though it took a hot second to remember the code for the door.

The lights were already on as you pulled in, which wasn’t anything unusual, and as you parked up, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was a text from Dean that made you smile as you read it, even though it was only a simple “b back soon x”.

Okay, so maybe another person would be irritated by the fact that he had forgotten their birthday, though he’d realized it soon after he left for the hunt and had promised to make it up to you in a somewhat steamy phone call made from a gas station two hundred miles away. You didn’t know what he had in mind but you supposed you’d find out soon, and you had to admit, you’d really missed him after nearly a week alone in the huge cavernous building of theirs.

It was easy for you to forgive his slight forgetfulness or the fact that he couldn’t get his socks in the laundry bin. Dean was a hero - Sam too - and you respected that their lives weren’t like other folks. You’d seen the blood and gore, the fallout from bad hunts, and you took pride that you were the sliver of normality that kept at least Dean going. Stress levels were unusually high with their almost-thankless line of work; you weren’t about to stress him out even more because he’d missed a fairly insignificant day that came around every year.

Locking the car, you struggled up the steps with your arms full of groceries, shouldering the door open and leaving the lights on for when the Winchesters returned. Your first stop was the kitchen but as you headed down the corridor and into the library, you noticed the lights were all on, which was not how you’d left them. You frowned, hearing the soft hum of music floating through the halls.

Concern had you depositing the groceries on the library table, and you quickly located the pistol hidden in a fake book on one of the shelves, checking it for bullets and finding it full. You knew how to handle a weapon, thanks to your grandfather, and Dean’s more recent coaching, but that didn’t stop nerves settling in your belly as you followed the sound of the music out of the library.

The music became clearer as you got closer and closer, discovering the source was the kitchen, and the song was something old that you didn’t know the name of. It struck you as odd that someone would break in and play classic rock while they… cooked? You sniffed, picking up hints of garlic and tomato in the air.

“You say it’s urgent, so urgent,” came a familiar and slightly off-key voice. “So oh, oh, urgent, just wait and see -”

His voice grew muffled and your curiosity couldn’t be held in check any longer. You slid into the kitchen doorway, taking note of the candles everywhere, the table set up with a ratty old check cloth and cutlery. Lowering the gun, your gaze moved to Dean’s pert ass where he was bending over the stove, humming along with the song as he tasted whatever he was cooking.

“Perfect.”

“Dean?”

He spun on the spot, bright green eyes wide as he saw you in the doorway, and it was only his quick reflexes that stopped the tray in his hands from flying out of his grasp. “Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you back just yet.”

Strolling forward, you carefully place the gun on the countertop with a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t expecting you back at all,” you commented with a smile, taking in the tight blue button down that outlined his frame, hugging him in all the right places. “What is all this?”

Dean grinned, placing the tray on top of the stove. “Happy birthday,” he said, gesturing to the ready-to-serve spaghetti on the stove.

Your smile widened. “You didn’t have to make me dinner, Dean.”

“I wanted to,” he insisted, shrugging lightly. “I felt really crappy about missing your birthday.”

You approached, stopping just in front of him to reach up and touch his face, pushing up on tiptoes to kiss him softly. “You’re a big ball of goo,” you teased, lowering yourself slowly. “I feel under-dressed.”

“You look perfect,” he promised, leaning in to kiss you again. “Now, why don’t you take a seat while I serve? There’s something on the table for you.”

Curiosity peaked, you let him swat you away playfully, moving towards the table to take a seat. At the spot you assumed was reserved for you was a box, wrapped delicately in sparkly wrapping paper. “What is it?” you asked, glancing over to where he was plating up the food. It smelled good, good enough that your mouth began to water, and you suddenly remembered the groceries. “Oh, shoot, I left the groceries in the library -” You started to move but Dean shook his head.

“I’ll get it. You open your present.”

He darted off and you frowned, before shrugging and tearing at the paper, revealing a familiar white box underneath. Your frown deepened at the labeling, trying to imagine Dean being anywhere near a Build-A-Bear store, struggling to picture him lining up among giggling children, smirking at the amusing image. As you got the box open, he returned with the groceries, quickly moving to put them away.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, gaze landing on the fluffy little tan bear in the box, neatly dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans, and a plaid flannel. “Oh, god, Dean! It’s so fluffy, I’m gonna die!”

Dean chuckled as he shoved a box of donuts to the back of the refrigerator. “I figured if I had to go away for another week, you’ll have someone to keep you company.”

“That’s so lame and adorable,” you giggled, hauling the bear from the box. “You made a bear of you.” You hugged the tiny Dean-bear close, feeling a slight sting of happy tears in the corners of your eyes. “I can’t believe you went to a Build-A-Bear.”

“Anything for you,” he threw out, accompanying it with a corny smile. “I even picked up a bottle of your favorite wine.”

“Made Sam go with ya, huh?”

“Not my fault you don’t like whiskey.”

You laughed again, still hugging the bear as he served dinner. When he approached the table with the loaded plates, you removed the box and settled the bear on the unused part of the cloth, resting him against the condiment basket.

“Okay, we have spaghetti bolognese with cheddar, not parmesan, because -”

“Real cheese, please,” you giggled.

Dean grinned, placing your plate in front of you and you inhaled deeply. “There’s pie for dessert,” he added, sliding onto his stool.

“It smells wonderful,” you moaned, picking up your fork.

“Wine?” Dean offered, grabbing the chilled bottle from the bucket beside him. You smiled and nodded, waiting for him to pour a generous amount into your glass. “Sam’s gonna come back tomorrow. He figured we could use some alone time.”

“You really pulled out all the stops, huh?”

“Well,” he drawled, pouring his own glass of wine, “to tell you the truth, I was terrified I’d get back here and you’d be gone. I mean,” he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze nervously, “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“It was a birthday,” you dismissed softly. “I have one every year. And I wouldn’t walk away over something like that.”

“And on some level, I knew that, but I also felt like a dick anyway.”

You scooped up some spaghetti onto your fork, taking a bite and moaning. “Oh, god, this is good. Did you put bacon in it?”

“Hell, yeah,” he laughed. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to do something special to make up for it. And I thought that a meal would be nice. Me and Sam talked about it and he suggested a nice restaurant and all that, but I remembered that you don’t like public food places much because you don’t like eating in public. And you don’t like doing that whole..." He waved a hand dismissively. "Outside social things. Which I’m cool with. Not a fan of it either." You smiled again, taking another bite as he kept talking. "So, I decided that a night with just you and me, your favorite meal, some nice wine, maybe a movie..."

"It’s perfect," you whispered, smiling at him, looking down at your meal bashfully. No one, let alone Dean, had ever done anything so sweet for you. "Thank you."

He blushed and ducked his head. "Well, eat up before it gets cold." A panicked expression crossed his face as the music changed to Guns-N-Roses and he looked up to the stereo, then back to you. "Do you want me to change the music? This is an old mix tape that might end up with some Metallica on it."

"No. I like this song. Besides, whoever said rock wasn’t romantic has clearly never heard Bad Company."

Dean smirked and the both of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, the soft tones of rock drifting through the bunker to accompany the meal, and you wondered how on earth you’d gotten so lucky.

"I enjoyed that," Dean said, stretching dramatically as you remained curled into his side on the large bed. The TV was rolling the credits for the movie you’d just watched, and to be honest, you’d been so comfy and sated and full of delicious food and wine, that you hadn’t paid attention to most of it. You knew it had been about some kind of spy ring and there was a famous guy in it but you couldn’t remember his name. Either way, just being curled up and dozy on Dean’s chest was wonderful, and you were about ready to fall asleep.

"You okay?" he asked, nudging you gently; you nodded, making a contented noise in your throat as you snuggled closer to him. Dean chuckled, his hand coming up to brush down the side of your face, the touch of his skin on yours leaving a tingling in its wake.

"Tonight was really perfect, Dean, I mean it."

Your words were quiet but sincere, and he smiled softly. Of course you were worried - Dean had a natural tendency to think what he had done wasn’t enough, and you were keen to reassure him that right now, at this moment, you couldn’t be any happier. "No one’s ever done anything so…nice for me."

"Well, I guess romance ain’t dead after all,” he drawled, smirking at you in the cocky way only he could manage. Drawn in, you craned your neck, kissing him softly, smiling against his mouth when he intensified the caress. His arm came up around you, fingers toying with the strap of your bra. "At least we’re already in the bedroom, huh sweetheart?"

"That is definitely a good thing," you replied, pushing him onto his back. He opened his mouth to protest, but you shushed him with your index finger and slung one leg over him to straddle his hips. "Uh-uh. You did the dinner, and the movie, and made up for my birthday. Now, it’s time for me to say thank you."

Dean’s face split into a filthy smirk, and he raised one eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And how are you planning to do that, Y/N?"

You grinned right back at him, your fingers deftly undoing the buttons on his shirt, flinging it open with a bit of dramatic flare. "Hold still, and you’ll find out." You leaned down, pressing a swift, closed mouth kiss to his lips before you darted your tongue out, licking a path down over his chin, feeling the rough stubble underneath your touch. Dean groaned, his arousal making itself known where you straddled him, his hips thrusting up towards you, pressing against your already hot center. You paused in your action, looking up at him with a reprimanded glare. "I said hold still."

He chuckled, and you felt his Adam’s apple bob against your cheek. In response to his laughter, you nipped at his neck with blunt teeth, making him hiss, smiling up at him mischievously when you moved your attention to his left nipple. Sticking out your tongue once more, you swirled your tongue around it, sucking lightly at the skin. Little moans came from his mouth at the sensation of your mouth on his sensitive skin, and you reached up with your hand, tweaking his right nipple gently as you laved attention on the left.

"Fuck..." Dean cursed, his body trembling with the effort it took not to flip you over and take control. He hated being the bottom but for once, you were taking charge. Luckily, you didn’t do this all the time - Dean Winchester was a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to give you what you wanted, so most of the time he took the lead. Right at that moment, you were in control, and you were going to make him whimper like he did to you.

You abandoned his nipples, sucking and nipping a trail down over his stomach. He flinched a little as you dipped your tongue into his belly button, and you smiled against his skin, knowing he was at least a little ticklish there. With shaking fingers, you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to expose the very top of his pelvic area, eyeing the delicious v-line that sloped down into the depths of the denim. Placing a soft kiss to the skin there made him groan loudly, and you pulled his pants down further, allowing his cock the room to spring free. As you sat back, pulling his pants all the way down, leaving him only wearing his unbuttoned shirt, you surveyed him like you’d earlier salivated over his cooking.

Dean was covered in scars. Bullet wounds, knife marks, scratch marks - there wasn’t much of him that didn’t have evidence of the life he’d led, but it didn’t take away from the sheer beauty of him; if anything, it added to his gorgeousness. Without thinking, you reached out and trailed a finger over his thigh, where a long scar stretched from his knee almost up into his groin. That was the mark of a Wendigo - you remembered sewing him up, shortly after you’d met him.

As if he realized what you were doing, Dean propped himself up onto his elbows, looking down at the scar. "Yeah. That was a bad one. You did a good job with the stitches though." He caught your wrist with his. "What’s wrong?" You looked up, meeting his green eyes with a smile.

"Just realized something." He waited for the answer and your eyes felt the sting of tears. "You did all this for my birthday, when all I want, all I ever want," you leaned forward, "is for you to come home safe and in one piece." His face became serious for a moment and you crawled over him, pressing your lips to his. "I love you, Dean Winchester."

He pulled you closer without missing a beat, kissing you furiously for a few seconds before pulling away panting. “I need you,” he whispered, sliding one hand down to your hip before suddenly flipping you onto your back.

Your shirt came off, along with his, and you quickly found yourself disrobed of your pants, unable to think straight as he peppered kisses on any patch of skin that was revealed to him, finally returning to your mouth when he finally had you nude underneath him. His cock prodded your entrance impatiently, and Dean thrust his hips gently, leaning on his elbows to look down at you.

"As much as I would love to have you continue with whatever you were building to, I need to be inside you right now."

“Uh-huh,” you managed, sucking in a breath as Dean pulled back a touch to guide himself into you, watching your expression dissolve as he filled you inch by inch.

It was urgent and desperate love making, unlike how you usually went about it. Maybe it was the time apart, which seemed to be increasing lately, or the wistful remarks. The thought of you losing him and him losing you was one that forever plagued the both of you but here, now, moving with him, feeling him pushing you to the edge, his grunts echoing in your ear as his fingers gripped your hips with a bruising intensity, you felt like this would last forever.

"Dean -" you gasped, as your climax surged through you, your head falling backwards as his hands moved from your hips round to hold your lower back. Shifting, he pulled you up until you were straddling his lap, his strong arms holding you fast as you swam through the bliss he’d instilled in you, thrusting harder and harder until your ass was slapping against his thighs with an audible echo. He was kneeling now, holding you like a ragdoll as you tried to control yourself, clinging to his shoulders desperately and crying out at each stroke.

When you’d regained your senses, you found his lips again, thrusting your tongue against his as you started to push up with your calves, riding him as hard as he was fucking you. The room was awash with the scent of sex, the sounds of your skin meeting, both of you drenched in sweat as you felt the slight burn of the friction between you. But the pain was fleeting, and all that came back to you was the feeling of him splitting you apart, down the middle, his urgency spilling over into you. The need to feel some sort of life before it was too late.

"Baby, I’m gonna cum," Dean groaned, clutching at you desperately. You nodded, gasping for breath, and unable to respond verbally as you started to come undone again. His cock swelled and pulsed and with an almost primal sounding roar, he spilled himself into you, holding you tightly as he finished, bringing you along with him.

You remained locked together, your legs straddling his, his cock remaining stubbornly hard in the wake of his orgasm, the thickness still filling you. His hands stroked your back lovingly as yours clasped his face, kissing him softly. There was no need to speak. Both of you knew where you were, and there wasn’t any need to clarify it. Without any sound, Dean lifted you away, before gathering you back into his arms as he lay on the bed. The TV was playing ads for Netflix as he pulled the sheets over you both.

Laying there in his arms, you smiled, feeling safe, content and loved. Maybe he’d never say it, but as he’d pointed out, romance definitely wasn’t dead.

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