#but he doesn't let anyone know that. he just says it's because using them is ''less efficient'' or some shit.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love your Freelance Inventor Au so much! (And, like, all your other work,, lol) I can't help imagining Danny finding out about the Batfam and turning to Bruce like, "You let our kids be vigilantes?!" Meanwhile Bruce is stuck on the fact that Danny called them "Our" kids. Or the reveal the other way, with Bruce finding out about Phantom first? He'd freak out- clearly he doesn't know Danny as well as he thought he did. And he can't believe Danny never told him! Meanwhile, Danny thought he mentioned the Phantom thing ages ago and that Bruce just doesn't care.

Since Jazz put the idea in his head, Danny has been unable to think of anything else. The idea that he might be in love with Bruce Wayne and had been for so many years but didn't notice because he assumed everyone felt that it was for that one friend.

It was there whenever he was drafting new blueprints, when he traveled across the world looking for inspiration and investors, when he settled into bed for a good night's rest, and most of all, when he finished his weekly phone call with Bruce.

"Get some rest," Bruce's warm, smooth voice says over the speakers. "I'll talk to you soon. Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight," he responds softly. He has a request to stay on the line on the tip of his tongue, but with the time difference, he knows it's not a good idea. And have a good day, Bruce."

The call ended with a click, but he couldn't help but feel their goodbye needed something.

I love you.

That was it. That's what was missing. But did he dare? Could he? Was he confusing love for something it wasn't? Was Bruce even interested?

Danny places his phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling of the latest hotel he booked, wondering if Bruce is leaving for lunch with the kids. He said they were celebrating Tim's new clothesline and wished he was there to cheer the boy and his team on.

Danny is in Toykyo today, presenting his new hologram keyboards to a big company.

Of course, they were the second company allowed the selling rights. Wayne Tech was the first, and Danny kept the production and creation rights. It was one of Danny's most ingenious inventions, if he did say so himself, but the look on Bruce's face when he revealed it to him was far more exhilarating than creating the keyboard or gaining the fat paycheck.

Fenton's Ghost Touch was a set of two rings with a hologram keyboard inside. When someone needed to type, they would spin the rings and double-tab the inner lining, connecting to devices using the Bluetooth function.

A visible hologram would pop up underneath their fingers, or if they wanted (and were good enough typers), they could move their fingers in the air without it, which would still allow them to type.

Danny had chosen to release the line in black internationally with Toyko, but Wayne Tech would release an exclusive color line. The rings were of the same design, all using slick silver bands but with different colors as the activation inner rings and some elegant carvings, unlike the international releases, which were just one solid color.

Fenton's Ghost Touch would come in seven colors: blue, red, pink, green, purple, white, and yellow.

Danny had purposely designed them using each of the Wayne kids' favorite colors and sent them all a set with their corresponding colors. The morning they arrived, he got a picture of them showing off their new rings, smiling widely at the camera from Bruce.

He saved the photo as his laptop background. His phone background already had a picture of him and the Waynes at Thanksgiving. They had crowed around, holding their wreaths with Bruce and Danny in the center.

Danny had been facing the camera, beaming in pride at the kids' work. Bruce was half-turning, his gaze stuck on Danny's face with a strange, fond, soft smile, the kind he rarely saw Bruce give anyone else.

It made him hope. Oh, how he hoped, but it also scared him. What if this wasn't love? Danny has never been in love before, has never fallen to the urges that others describe, and had been so comfortable convincing his asexuality meant he would never have to be the kind of person staying up long into the night overthinking every interaction with another person.

Yet here he was, seeing Bruce in a whole new light and discovering how different everything was because of it. But at the same time, how nothing had changed. He spoke to Dani about this, but his clone-turned-sister had only shrugged.

"You raised kids with the man." She laughed. Dani wasn't like Danny, and although she was more informed than their parents, she had difficulty wrapping her head around not having those feelings. "I think it's past the point of having a crush on him. I think you should go for it. Make it official."

Danny reaches up, rubbing at his eyes. It was midnight, and he had a meeting with another with the Japanese board again at eight. He really needed to rest and be on top of his wits so that he and his lawyer could ensure the contact was in his best interest.

He clicks open his gallery on his phone instead of swiping through photos of Bruce and feeling his heart leap nearly out of his chest. He misses the man.

Since Jazz's conversation, Danny has been practically avoiding him. This is due to his being hyper-aware of himself and Bruce: the way Bruce laughed, the dip in his voice whenever the British accent he picked up from Alfred popped in, the slight facial expressions he made when confused about emotions, the shift from playful to professional in work settings, and most of all, the attention he always bestowed onto Danny.

How the world just seemed brighter whenever he was with the man.

Bruce was his sun, and Danny was nothing more than a flower seeking him out. It made the Halfa want to hide in a hole but dance around in public all at once, and he didn't know why.

He finds a video, tapping the play button before thinking further of it, and melts when the first sound he hears is Bruce's laughter. It's quickly followed by the loud noise of the Waynes' Children. It was taken at the last Wayne game night—at the time, Danny had been in England with Dani.

Tim recorded Damian standing proudly over a map covered in white trains, arms spread into a T position, and Duke screaming accusations of cheating. After Alfred banned Monopoly in the Manor, the game Ticket to Ride quickly took over as the new worst enemy creator.

Dick was in the background sobbing into his hands as Jason tried to confront him. Steph and Cass were each leaning on Bruce's two shoulders, laughing as hard as their father, and Alfred was out of frame but not out of hearing, so when he stated, "Master Dick, how could have gone in the wrong direction? It's the map of the USA, it hasn't change in years!"

"He has a concussion, Alfrie!" Jason protested hotly. "Leave him alone!"

"YOU CHEATED!" Duke raged as Damian continued his pose with the most serious expression he'd seen on the child. It made his heart swell to see Damian copying him.

Danny struck the same pose whenever he beat his sisters at a game, even at his advanced age. Once an annoying brother, always an annoying brother.

The video ends with Tim flipping the camera. His broad grin covered the whole screen as he shouted, "Love you, Dad! Miss you! Can't wait to see you!"

Danny turns to his side, feeling his heart flutter more as the word plays repeatedly in his head. A few years ago, the Wayne Kids—excluding Damian, who was polite to the point it hurt—switched from Danny to Dad when referring to him.

Bruce hadn't made a big deal about it even though they called him Dad. Would that mean the man was happy his kids saw him as a second father figure? Did it mean the man thought of him as....a husband?

Danny groans, burying his face into the cool sheets of his futon, begging his mind to stop for a few seconds so he can rest. After this deal goes through, Danny is going to face the music.

He would go to Gotham and figure out a way to tell Bruce how he felt. He just hopes he has it figured out by then. Danny has an idea, but explaining the mess in his head into words is going to be much harder than anything he's ever done.

Not to mention Phantom. That was a can of worms he hadn't ever touched in Wayne's presence. What was Bruce's stance on ghosts anyway?

Should he practice what he would say about the topic? Turning onto his back, Danny holds up his phone, clicking the screen so the lock screen image of a grinning Bruce appears.

It was from the surprise vacation Danny rented out the hut next to the ones the kids sent Bruce to. It had been taken at sunset, the soft orange and purples of the sky framing Bruce's grin and dancing on his wind-blown hair. It had been a spur-of-the-moment walk around the beach, but from Danny's perspective down below and Bruce climbing back up to his hunt, it had almost appeared like Bruce was descending from the heavens.

Danny had used every film skill he had ever heard Dani speak about to capture the beautiful sight.

It is the best picture he's ever taken.

"I love you," the words leave his mouth in surprise, even though he had meant to talk about ghosts. But when they are spoken, he ducks into ice water and realizes they are true.

He sits up, using both hands to hold the phone in front of him, hoping that somehow, in some unrealistic dream, the words will carry across the world, and Bruce will hear them. Maybe even feel them, too. "I love you, I think I do. Do you love me too?"

The screen goes dark, and Danny sighs. Ten years. Will he really risk ten years of friendship over these little feelings?

Yeah. He thinks he will.

[zepskies]

👀👀 Oh Dean is that how you always say thank you? lol

ahahaha probably not. 😝

Is that a little Friends reference there?

Ooh girl you know it is! 😘 There are a LOT of them in this part especially lol.

Oh Lisa, I imagine a get together to celebrate is the last thing anyone is going to want to do right after giving birth. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt here and assume she's trying to be nice and wants to feel included.

Right?? lol Poor mom just wants to rest, and Dean sees that in that scene. But my HC was that yes, Lisa's just trying to be "a part of it," but she's going about it the wrong way. 😅

5 YEARS??!! I just wanted to shout at them here, they've gone 5 years and still haven't worked out they should be together! I can kind of understand it though, there has been a lot of misunderstandings and miscommunication happen from the beginning with these two.

Suuuuper fucking frustrating, right? lol But yes, the central theme here is misunderstanding/miscommunication, and that follows them until the end unfortunately. 😅

Oh she's with Benny. I can understand that he's a good guy. I have a feeling he may end up getting hurt though.

Once again, your instincts are spot on (unfortunately for Benny). 🥲🥲

Ah Lisa has picked up on it, although I don't think Robbie's birthday party was the best time to start bringing that up.

Like, her point is totally valid, but maybe not at a 5 year old's birthday party? 😅

Lisa really hit a nerve didn't she and the bike is where his frustration is really coming out.

Oh yeah you nailed it. Dean's pissy-ness here is in large part stemming from him not liking the idea of reader and Benny potentially getting married. 🥲

Hmm... interesting 🤔 That whole scene between Dean and Lisa after they left the restaurant was so sad. I did feel sorry for Lisa there it must be so difficult having to face up to the realisation that the person you are in a relationship with is in love with someone else.

Right? The emergency contact thing was super telling imo.

I'm glad you felt for Lisa - that scene was really the biggest thing to try and redeem her from Part 1. She doesn't deserve all the push and pull Dean has put her through either, and the way she finally lets him go and tells him to fight for his family is a true credit to her strength and character growth at this point. 💜

Although poor Benny! I was afraid he was going to get hurt...

I knowwww, poor Benny really gets the worst of it. 🥺 He doesn't deserve what happens, and that he feels he has to transfer out of Firehouse 83 because he just can't be friends/work with Dean anymore. It's too painful. It just shows how we can unintentionally hurt those closest to us by keeping things inside/not being honest -- which now that I think about it, was a theme SPN touched on a lot between Sam and Dean.

Perfect ending to this lovely story. I thoroughly enjoyed this lovely 💖

Aw thank you so very much, lovely!! I'm so glad you enjoyed If I Stay, despite the angsty ride. 😅 Stay tuned for an epilogue in hopefully the near future! 💕💕

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot. 

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.  

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER... 

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you��I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.” 

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this. 

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours. 

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines. 

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off. 

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?” 

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt. 

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change. 

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything. 

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything. 

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad. 

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less. 

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary. 

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived. 

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing. 

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes. 

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition. “I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you. 

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet. 

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple. 

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.” 

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head. 

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.” 

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. 

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time. 

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there. 

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself. 

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be. 

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh. 

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip. 

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask. 

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.” 

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes. 

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself. 

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks. 

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly. 

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.  

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.  

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.” 

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb. 

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really. 

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little. 

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes. 

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you. 

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free. 

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister. 

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad. 

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends. 

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases. 

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it. 

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean. 

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

**As a reminder, One More Day (Dean x Latina Plus-Sized!Reader) comes out on 4/04 - the day after my birthday!~

Until then, please let me know what you thought of If I Stay! 😘 I might write more for these two in the future...

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

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[castreddog]

Nevermore chapter 117 spoiler

So huh... I have something to think about the new chapter.

We know that the Wendigo is after Lenore, initially we think that he smells Lenore, but apparently, no, he smells specifically her blood.

And in this scene we have confirmation of this, Only on their hands is Lenore's scent, as that is where her blood came into contact with them because of the oath they made in chapter 103, If it was just Lenore's scent itself, the Wendigo would smell her all over their bodies, especially Duke who slept leaning against her.

And the Wendigo is probably smelling Lenore's curse, which runs through her veins, so when she cut her own hand and shook her friends', her blood mixed with theirs,mainly in the bandages they are using, so we already know that the Wendigo only knows Lenore's positioning because she is injured.

Spoiler fast pass chapter 121(You can ignore this, it won't make much difference, but it's just an extra detail)

In the most recent chapter,We see the Wendigo chasing Pluto, but when he is about to attack, the Duke appears to distract him, and apparently the Duke already has a theory that the Wendigo smells blood, because he says

"So if it's blood you are after... Then I'm happy to oblige"

And the Wendigo lets go of Pluto as Duke takes off the bandages, leaving the blood exposed, possibly increasing the exposure of Lenore's blood scent. That's why the Wendigo goes after him, he chases blood, so he probably doesn't know what Lenore looks like either, he just looks for the blood scent and he will attack anyone who has the scent.

Now I can finally get to the point I want.

Why does Annabel's ring have a scent? Because even if the Wendigo could smell Lenore in general, it still wouldn't make sense since Lenore never touched the ring, However, we know that the items they have there come from when they were alive, which makes me think that Lenore made the same blood oath with Annabel, and at the moment of the oath, Annabel was wearing her ring.

And because Annabel trusts Lenore so blindly, it makes me think that Lenore has done much bigger crazy things than we know so far, this includes perhaps a possible pact?

What do you think?

[starrihan]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSMovrvKv/

girl i saw this tiktok and just IMAGINE HOW DOMINANT SUNOO/SUNGHOON would be in bed after finding out you admire idols other than them as their non-idol gf like 🤯

and the moment they find out through peeping the through your phone that you have other idols in your gallery they would call you greedy and will start to remind you how they can give you ANYTHING OUT OF THEIR JEALOUSY

no because him saying that on live was actually crazy but yes this SCREAMS sunsun!!! like they're both so sassy and i feel like Sunghoon is outwardly possessive but Sunoo is secretly possessive. like when he lets Jungwon use his skincare and he acts like its fine but he actually hates it he just doesn't wanna tell anyone. i used idols from other groups i hope thats okay! Sunoo would overcompensate while Sunghoon would punish you

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

Sunghoon:

He would have you face down, ass up, white-knuckling the sheets as he pounds into you, always stopping before you can actually cum.

"You think Soobin could make you feel this good huh? Would you let him see you like this, ass up in the air and pushing back on my dick like a needy whore? Such a greedy girl."

You frantically shake your head 'no', needing him to let you cum as soon as possible. But he's not buying it. Instead, he yanks your head back by your hair, whispering low in your ear as you wince at the sting radiating throughout the back of your head.

"Really? Then scream. Scream my name so loud that you never forget who you belong to, the only person that could ever make you feel this good. Maybe I'll let you cum then."

You muster up all the energy you have, screaming his name as loud as your vocal chords will allow you to. You needed this release, having been edged too many times for your foggy mind to keep up with.

"PLEASE SUNGHOON!!! I ONLY BELONG TO YOU!!!"

How he had so much control was beyond you. He's had you like this for at least an hour and hasn't cum once himself either. His patience has no bounds when it comes to you, it seems.

Your clenching walls indicate your approaching release to him, speeding up as he can tell you're on the brink— before pulling away from you for the nth time in a row.

"I know you can do much better than that, you dirty whore. Try again"

༄ ༄ ༄

Sunoo:

"Don't ever think about having a picture of another man in your phone again."

He'd say, harshly nipping at the fragile skin around your neck, hips making quick work of you, cum seeping out of your hole, both yours and his. You can only nod your head 'yes', the overstimulation catching up to you. Your lip was bitten raw trying to keep yourself from drooling all over, orgasm after orgasm the only thing on your mind.

"What? Too dumb to speak actual words? And not even an apology either? How greedy you truly are..."

You're panting at this point, unable to produce any sounds save for a couple of small whimpers here and there, even the ability to speak being taken away from you in this moment. As you prepare for what felt like your 100th release of the night, you manage to croak out a weak apology.

"Sunoo... I'm sorry please... I can't, t-take it..."

He snickers as a smirk draws onto his face, not buying it one bit.

"Tsk, shut up. Greedy whores don't get to beg for forgiveness, especially after I gave you so many chances before. Take what you so desperately deserve and remind yourself that no one else would ever make you feel as good as I can."

༄ ༄ ༄

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[c4tluver02]

sunshine and waves !

wc: 1.7

Summary: You, Steve, and the group go to the beach. The water is freezing and the kids are annoying but it's the best day ever!!!

Warnings: none! basically tooth- rotting fluff!!!!

a/n: haii im back!! i need to get back into my groove so this is similar to a fic ive written before but this ones better xoxo!!!!

The alarm makes a blaring sound, forcing you to wake up. Today you, Steve, and the group were all going to the beach. Unfortunately the beach is 3 hours away so that means waking up early, like right as the sun rises early. 

Despite being tired you were so excited to see Steve. Today was gonna be a perfect summer day with all the people you love around you. It was enough to get anyone up. You start getting ready until you hear Steve’s loud horn honk at you from the street. If you had to guess the kids were already on his nerves. His horn makes you run out the house, not trying to make everyone late. 

“Hi baby” Steve says with a smile, so happy to see you. 

“Hi my love!” You reply as you put your seatbelt on.The passenger seat was already open for you. It is your designated seat after all. Once you two started dating Steve didn't let anyone but you sit in the front seat.  

You hear all the kids groan at your guys' pet names. They are always quick to shut anything down, even just saying hello. 

“Is the rest of the group gonna meet us there?” You ask as we couldn't all fit in Steve's car.

“Yea Jonathan drove them. But of course we were stuck with the kids. Because who else would be the babysitter!” Steve sighs dramatically. They may have only been driving for 15 minutes and they may have annoyed him the whole time but Steve could never hate spending time with the kids. He secretly adores it even if he says he doesn't

“Cheer up Stevie I promise you an hour in they will all be passed out.” You tell him smiling, trying to make light of the situation. 

“Oh yea like you wont be passed out with them?” He says back to you with a smirk. He knows how you are on road trips, especially early morning ones. 

You roll your eyes as you get comfortable for the long drive ahead of you.

-

Like Steve said, you were all passed out the first 30 minutes of the drive. But luckily for Steve you woke up about an hour before you guys made it to the beach, allowing a flow of conversation that the kids wouldn't interrupt. 

“Okay you wanna wake up the kids and I'll get the stuff out the trunk?” Steve asked you as he got out of the car. 

It was little mundane moments like this that almost stopped your heart. His sentences sounded so domestic. You couldn't help but think about Steve as a dad and saying that to you. Despite not having kids you both already have your roles figured out. 

“Okay got it.” You say with a slight blush. 

You gently nudge Max's leg not wanting to scare her. She wakes up which in turn wakes the rest of them up. It wasn't the world's hardest task that Steve gave you but it was enough time for them to all fully wake up and get out. By then Steve had done his part of the job.

“Ok Dustin you hold the blankets, Mike you hold a chair, Lucus you hold this other chair.” Steve says, pointing at things for the boys to hold. 

“Why do we have to hold stuff and not you guys?” Mike asked in his typical sassy tone.

“First of all i'm holding the cooler, second of all do you have no manners Wheeler? Now man up and hold a chair.” Steve huffs as he rolls his eyes. You only just got here and he's already had to shut something down. 

There is a part of Steve in that moment that thought this might have been better if it was just the adults, or better yet just the two of you. But he knows despite these little disagreements today will be fun. 

You grab his hand, taking him out of his head. “Do you need me to grab anything?” You say just loud enough for him to hear.

“No honey it's ok we all got it.” He responds by kissing your cheek. You're already feeling sweat on the nape of your neck. 

All of you walk down as you see Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, and Eddie all setting up. 

“Wow i dont think ive ever seen Robin do physical labor in my life!” Steve says laughing.

Robin sticks her finger up at him, not giving his joke the time of day. Nancy and Jonathan sit down in their chairs as the kids unpack what was in Steve's car.

“Ok sunscreen time!” You yell not letting any of them get away before they all forget. 

Of course they all sigh wanting to just go out into the water already, but they oblige and do what you ask with no whining. 

“How do you get them to just do what you say?” Nancy asks.

“Oh, um, I don't really know? They just never really put up a fight with me.” You reply wishing you had a better answer for her.

“You must be special. I think because I'm Mike's big sister they all see me that way and love to go against whatever I say.” Nancy says playfully, shaking her head.

You giggle at her statement but Steve overheard the conversation. He can't help but think about what a great mother you would be. If only you two knew that you both have these thoughts about each other. The thing is your relationship is still on the newer side. Only dating around 6 months Steve thinks talking about kids together would just scare you away. 

“Steve, when are you thinking of going in the water?” You ask, trying to decide whether you want to sunbathe and read your book or go in since you're hot. 

“Hmmm we can go right now if you want?” He replies.

“Okay let's go.” You say getting up and taking your dress off. Steve has big heart eyes. You're absolutely gorgeous. 

He gets up and takes his shirt off to then give you a million little kisses all over your face. You giggle until he finally reaches your lips for a nice kiss.

 “You're so pretty. Have I ever told you that?” Steve asks with a head tilt.

“Maybe once or twice but you know it never really hurts to hear.” You say with a shrug but your smile gives you away. 

Steve grabs your hand and pulls you toward the ocean. “Wait.” You say

“What? What's wrong?” Steve is already in panic mode, did something happen from the time you were on the sand to the water? 

“It's really cold.” You say with a shiver and start backing up.

Steve lets a sigh he had held in. He should have known you would say that.

“Nope you cannot back out now, we're already here!” 

“But, but I just…. Maybe I'm not hot enough yet!” You say trying to reason with him. The thought of even going as deep as thigh level makes your skin rise in goosebumps. 

“Oh wait, look , they are waving at us!” Steve points over to your area. You turn around to look.

“No they aren- AHH!” Steve had picked you up bridal style. 

“Steve, please dont. It's so cold you're gonna be cold too just think about it!” You yell but ultimately nothing is stopping him and you come to the beach to swim. He walks into the water at a slow pace.

“See I'm fine! Once you get in it will feel warm I promise.”

You look at Steve with an unknowing look. You don't know if you trust what he said but he said it so kindly that you almost want to believe him. You dip your foot down so you can feel the water. It’s still as cold as when you first walked on the beach but you decide to fully go for it. Allowing Steve to let you down, you are now calf level with the water. 

You let out a blow of air as the cold shocks you. “See not bad! And it will only get warmer.” He says going deeper and faster now that you're not in his arms. 

“Yea it will only get warmer because all these kids are peeing in it.” You say with an annoyed tone that he was somewhat right. You are getting used to the water the longer you stand in it. 

After going in and splashing each other you decide it's now time to relax. The kids are still swimming around, Nancy and Jonathan are by the ice cream truck, and Robin and Eddie are building a sand castle. Now is the perfect time to sleep. 

You and Steve walk up and he starts drying himself off with a towel. You realize that he doesn't need to as the sun will do it in a matter of minutes but you decide not to bother him about it. You instead crawl onto the blanket, reaching into your bag to get your book and you feel a slap on your butt. 

“Steve! There are kids!” You whisper shout at him, eyes wide even though he just has a big smile on his face as he's gigging. 

“What? You had sand on your ass! I was just trying to help.” He says it like it was a fact. 

You start to laugh because he's laughing, the whole situation is too silly to stay mad at. You both finally lay on the towels and you open your book. It's a perfect one for this occasion and before you get through your first page Steve asks-

“Baby could you read outloud?” Steve asks in a soft tone. You can tell he's tired. He was the one who got up earlier than any of us and didn't take a nap on the drive here. Reading to him will always calm him down. 

“Of course my love.” You say in a warm tone, happy to be where you are at, in this very moment. You start reading aloud and you can see Steve get comfortable and close his eyes. He looks so pretty. But it's only a matter of minutes later that the kids come back. They simply don't know how to be quiet and now there's no nap for Steve. But again he can't stay mad at them.

[yvesssssssss]

heyy, new request! 😚

how would nagumo and seba react if their s/o died and how would they move on? can they actually move on or not? what do they do to get over you?

take your time taking requests btw! i love how you write them both so much!! 😋 (pls make this very angsty)

If Their S/O Died – Nagumo & Seba’s Reactions and Moving On (or Not)

I hope you like it! I’m not really great at writing angst so yeahh༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Nagumo Yoichi

Nagumo doesn't react how people expect him to. He doesn't cry. He doesn't scream. He doesn't even look surprised. When the news reaches him, his expression stays eerily neutral, almost like he already knew this would happen.

But the moment he's alone, the cracks start to show. The silence of a room where your voice used to be is deafening. The absence of your warmth beside him in bed makes it impossible to sleep. He knows grief isn't something he can outmaneuver, isn't something he can joke his way through—but that doesn't stop him from trying.

He goes back to work as if nothing happened. Smiling, laughing, teasing people like always. But something is off. His disguises last longer than before. His voices and personalities become more refined, more immersive. It's almost like he's desperately trying to become someone else—someone who isn't mourning you.

The Order notices. Shishiba eyes him critically, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them, but ultimately says nothing. Even Osaragi—usually indifferent—tilts her head, chewing on her lollipop a little slower as if sensing something off beneath Nagumo’s usual grin.

But Nagumo doesn't talk about you. Not once. If someone mentions your name, he acts like he didn’t hear it. Not because he doesn’t care, but because if he acknowledges you’re gone—really gone—then he has to acknowledge that he was powerless to stop it.

And Nagumo hates feeling powerless.

When he tries to "move on," he does it in the worst way possible. He flirts more. He sleeps around. He drinks too much. He smiles too much. But none of it works. Your absence is a wound he keeps covering with bandages that never stick.

Late at night, when the world is quiet, he sits alone with his thoughts—and that's when it gets unbearable. He catches himself reaching for his phone to text you, only to remember there’s no one to answer. He orders food and sets aside a portion for you before realizing you’ll never eat it. He dreams of you, and for a few blissful moments, he forgets you’re dead. But when he wakes up, reality crashes down like a blade through his ribs.

Nagumo is not the kind of man who "gets over" people. He just pretends he does.

And one day, years later, if someone asks about you, he’ll smile. He’ll make a joke. But if they watch closely, they might notice the way his fingers twitch, the way his smile strains—how, despite all his masks, there is a part of him that never left that moment.

Nagumo lives with grief. But he never truly moves on.

Natsuki Seba

At first, Natsuki doesn’t react at all.

He hears the news, nods blankly, and goes back to work. It’s almost eerie how normal he seems—still hammering away in his workshop, still crafting weapons, still maintaining his usual sarcasm. He even jokes about it once, an offhand comment about how you’d be mad if he let your death slow him down.

But something is wrong.

The weapons he makes are flawless—more flawless than ever. Each blade sharper, each gun modified to perfection, every design pushed to its absolute limit. But when you look at them too closely, there’s something unsettling about them. Like he’s pouring all his grief into the metal, twisting his pain into something dangerous.

Mafuyu notices. He watches as Natsuki stops sleeping, stops eating properly, stops talking to anyone outside of work. But when Mafuyu tries to bring it up, Natsuki snaps.

"What, you think I’m gonna break down? Cry about it? You think I need your help?"

He doesn’t. He doesn’t need anyone. Because you’re gone, and no one can fix that.

And so he throws himself deeper into his work, spending days in his workshop without stepping outside. The machines hum, the forge burns hot, the sound of metal clanging against metal echoes through the empty room. But it’s not enough. No matter how many weapons he makes, no matter how perfect they are, they can’t bring you back.

His hands start shaking. He ignores it.

His vision blurs from exhaustion. He keeps working.

He starts testing weapons recklessly, no longer caring if the blade is too sharp or if the recoil is too strong. If he gets hurt, so what? It doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

The first time he breaks down, it’s over something stupid—he’s sharpening a knife, and for a split second, he imagines handing it to you. Because that’s what he used to do. He used to show you his work, let you admire it, let you hold the finished product in your hands. But now, there’s no one to show it to.

The knife slips from his grasp, clattering to the floor. And just like that, something inside him shatters.

He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t scream. He just stands there, staring at the blade, his hands clenched into fists so tight his nails dig into his skin.

And that’s when he realizes—he can make the strongest weapons in the world, but he was never strong enough to protect you.

After that, something changes. His weapons become colder. More efficient. No unnecessary details, no personalization, no sign of the careful craftsmanship he once prided himself on. Just machines of death, made with mechanical precision.

People start noticing. They say his weapons feel different—like they weren’t made by a person, but by someone who doesn’t care anymore.

And maybe that’s the truth.

Because Natsuki doesn’t stop working. He doesn’t take a break. He doesn’t grieve—because if he does, he’s afraid he’ll never start again.

He doesn’t move on. He just keeps forging.

Because the moment he stops, he’ll have to face the fact that you’re never coming back.

And that’s a pain he’s not ready to bear.

[confuzing]

Liu Yuan AU Posting Time

Previous Parts: 1 / 2.5 / 3

This is the Abyss, Before and After, it's a long one

The Immortal Alliance Conference: Xuanye is left back at camp at Shizun's insistence and Luo Binghe and Liu Yuan set out just the two of them to look at and then kill all the monsters. Since they aren't distracted by anyone (except each other) both of them tear up the rankings, leaving Gongyi Xiao a distant third before everything goes to shit.

Not sure who or what breaks LBH's seal but the end result is this: Luo Binghe stands at the edge of the Abyss, his newly clawed hands wrapped carefully around A-Yuan's waist and his face half- hidden in A-Yuan's hair while Liu Yuan stands between him and SQQ and LQG. LY is focused mostly on SQQ- both because he thinks he's the easier adult to reason with and because he can't imagine an attack coming at him from his brother's direction. LBH is watching LQG- the most volatile Peak Lord who's staring at his grip on A-Yuan in open disgust. Both Peak Lords feint at the same time- SQQ is trying to find an angle that lets him hit LBH and not LY, LQG is trying to figure out how to pry LY away from LBH. Both boys flinch, and lose their balance. The last thing LBH does as he falls into the Abyss is shove LY away from him as hard as he can. It's just enough for LQG to grab his little brother and haul him back onto solid ground.

Before: Liu Yuan's System is absolutely useless. It awards him points but he can't use them for anything. (What even are W points? It won't tell him.) And it doesn't have quests for him. At least it's not forcing him to do things though? Or not do them? Because honestly he didn't quite sort out all those past life memories until after he met Binghe and it looks like he's derailed the plot a little just by existing? And then he derailed it a lot by kissing back when Binghe got up the nerve to kiss him and well, the harem was the worst part of the book anyway. He's not gonna miss it.

The only thing the System does do is tell him the Abyss is unavoidable. Not that LY has any idea how he could avoid it in the first place. But the System doesn't say he can't go with LBH. He can just focus on filling his and Binghe's head with Abyss survival info and everything will be alright! Right?

After: LY is a mess. He stops eating or attending classes or speaking to anyone. He tries to run away six times that first month, only for his brother or Shizun to drag him back each time. He's especially not talking to either of them. (This is extremely upsetting for both of them though SQQ hides it better.)

Eventually the first rush of anger and grief fades and LY comes up with a plan. He can't get into the Abyss with Binghe- but he can be there when he get out. Airplane was vague on exactly where LBH entered the demon realm but LY knows it's in a forested area near one of the demon realm's few rivers. He knows the names of the clans LBH will meet first. If he can get himself away from the mountain and to the demon realm he can be waiting for LBH when he gets out.

Step One is to stop being babysat constantly. He starts eating and attending classes again. He can't bring himself to act like nothing's happened but he can at least talk to his brother and Shizun. He stops running away- he needs them to trust him to go out on night hunts for when he actually runs.

Step Two is to learn everything the sect can teach him that might possibly be useful before he leaves it forever (probably). He throws himself into classes and sword training and building his qi reserves, he learns qi manipulation through music and first aid and picks various people's brains about cursed swords. He has five years max to learn everything he wants to-maybe less. His Binghe was definitely a better swordsman than the original. (The extra training opportunities for LBH were the only reason LY allowed those fights for his hand in marriage to go on.)

He gets impatient at the 2 year mark and decides he can train and meditate just as well on the road. So he never comes back from his next solo night hunt. The monster was killed, the locals saw him fly back towards the mountain, but he's gone. SQQ and LQG find most of his belongings gone and a note that points out he's an adult now and they can't drag him home anymore. I'm going to find him and you can't stop me.

Two and a half years after he fell into the Abyss LBH cuts his way out of hell into a suspiciously peaceful forest. Less than a mile from his portal he finds a shack in a clearing near the river. There's no one at the little camp when he arrives and LBH debates raiding it or waiting for someone to show up. It could be a trap-

"Binghe?"

He whirls. That's oh. Oh.

"I'm hallucinating." he says.

"You aren't." The hallucination says and touches his cheek. A-Yuan touches his cheek. He's real. He's here. How is he here? LBH isn't even sure where here is.

And then he's kissing A-Yuan and nothing else matters. Not even Xuanye hissing at him for it. He's missed the hissing even. Everything is perfect right now.

Except. He pulls back as far as he can- LY won't let him get far.

"I am so dirty." LBH says.

LY laughs. "The river's right there, go. I'll grab my soap and meet you there."

Much much later that night when it's A-Yuan's turn to watch LBH fitfully sleep (they're trading off every few hours) Liu Yuan's System lights up and tells him he's successfully entered the system's main mode. He can now spend his Wife points on upgrades and rewards. Any further instances of him being a good wife for the protagonist will now earn him double W points! There are also a number of quests he can do to further increase his wifely suitability! ( When A-Yuan stops internally screaming enough to check the quest list the first one is called Dual Cultivation and he has to close out of the system all together before he dies of embarrassment.)

[anxiousapplepie]

Question for all of the main cast or just the ones who you think have the most interesting answer: which of your teammates are you most intimidated by? Why?

Due to me not having my drawing equipment (and then everybody having too many opinions TO reasonably draw all of this even if I wanted to) I have compiled their answers into text!

----------

Lapis: Easy - Barbara! Because I've seen her do things in heels that I can't even do in flat tennis shoes. And THEY AREN'T SHORT HEELS. … also because she's the only one who doesn't THINK before her instinct kicks in. Not that I think she'd intentionally hurt a friend- and I think we're friends! (She's such a tsundere) But I still wear my armor around her for that reason. Just in case.

----------

Bristly: Tara. George: Pfft the cheerful ray of sunshine? Why that one?? Bristly: She's insane. If there was a fire, she'd jump into it and take us all with her. George: YEAH, that's why she's cool! Anyway, Jim's the one who freaks me out.

Bristly: [judgemental smirk] Really. George: He's scarily good at reading our minds, but he doesn't DO anything about it! He just SITS there! All polite-like, pretending he didn't just predict every word you were going to say! Bristly: Ah yes. His social skills are better than yours. George: I WISH HE'D JUST TELL ME WHAT HE WANTED DIRECTLY INSTEAD OF CONFUSING ME WITH HIS ROSEY-POSEY TEATIME TALK ALL THE TIME OKAY

----------

Barbara: No one has ever intimidated ME. Except maybe myself, of course Rodgeric: Not even Tara? Barbara: Tch! That's different. And we're not talking about that. What about you, rosebud? Who intimidates you the most?

Rodgeric: [considering popping sound] Bristly. Barbara: That barerooted prick? Why? Rodgeric: The same reason why I'm intimidated by you. Barbara: AH. So you think I'm intimidating? Rodgeric: [fondly] Sure. Let's go with that.

----------

Tara: Hm. No one really gives me that kind of feeling, to be honest? But I will admit I am deeply curious about what Morgan will look like when his fear gets pushed aside and he finds a real reason to fight at his best. THAT will be interesting!

----------

Jim: Ahahaha, I MEAN. Maybe. There is one individual who fits that category for me. Obviously I love and support them! As a friend and teammate! But also? It… kinda… maybe, sort of, a little bit.. freaks me out. Just how determined they are to change colors even if it's actively hurting them and everyone around them. Rodgeric is on a whole different level from everyone else in my opinion. But please don't tell anyone I said that.

----------

Morgan: … How can I possibly answer this question. Lapis: Aw, don't sweat it buddy! It's okay, we all know you're equally terrified of everybody and this is an unfair question for you~ Morgan: Yeah. You know what? I don't need to answer this. But if I did have to answer, it'd say your name first. Lapis: HAHA You WHAT MATE?

[universefcb]

Could you write a Pau fic about him being totally whipped about his girlfriend? Like maybe they are hanging out with the rest ( reader is in the friendgroup) and the two of them being really into each other and Lamine and Hector tease them

Also Pau being the kind of boyfriend to talk about you in every interview as he is your #1 fan

↬❥ Dominated

Pau Cubarsí x Reader!fem

Synopsis: You guys are dating, but he's a very obsessed boyfriend, please.

a/n: This is the song that was playing in the reader's head when Cubarsí looked at her! 😩

REQUESTED

warnings: no

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The sound of laughter fills the room as the group of friends gathers at a café near the city center. The conversation flows animatedly, but there is one detail that is impossible to ignore: Pau Cubarsí does not take his eyes off his girlfriend.

Sitting side by side, the two share a portion of fries, but it's as if Pau is oblivious to the rest of the world. He listens to her every word with almost devout attention, responds with a goofy smile and, from time to time, tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, as if it were the most important thing to do.

Lamine and Héctor, who were already waiting for this scene to unfold, exchange a knowing look before attacking.

“Dude, have you blinked today or are you afraid of missing a second of her vision?” Lamine teases, arching an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

“I’m starting to think he doesn’t even know his own name anymore, he only knows how to say hers,” adds Héctor, making the rest of the group laugh.

Pau rolls his eyes, but it's impossible to hide the blush rising on his face. He tries to ignore them, focusing on holding his girlfriend's hand under the table, but Lamine doesn't let it slide.

“Seriously, Cubarsí, I’ve never seen anyone so dominated. She snaps her fingers and there you go, like a lovesick puppy,” he exaggerates, snapping his fingers for dramatic effect.

“It’s not my fault she’s amazing,” Pau retorts, shrugging with a proud smile, not at all ashamed of his own devotion.

You, reserved as you are, lower your gaze and smile slightly, still not completely used to the group's jokes. But there is something sweet in the way Pau continues to hold her hand, ignoring any provocation because, for him, nothing is more important than being there with her.

“This is worse than I thought,” Héctor jokes, feigning drama. “The niño was completely defeated.”

“And I love every second of it,” Pau replies, without hesitation.

The group bursts into laughter, and even his girlfriend can't help but smile wider. In the end, the teasing is just a reflection of what everyone has already realized: Pau Cubarsí is not only in love, he is completely surrendered.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @p4uul0vr @nngkay @meganesanchez @bymerinott @htpssgavi @luvvpedri

[kairithemang0]

Saf swap aus and why they're the bane of my existence... or something (and what i'd do if I made one. bcs it's very very different to saf proper and that's why I wouldn't really call it one SORRY THIS IS GONNA BE LONG PLS READ IT THO I WORKED HARD)

I don't really know how to describe it. Hopefully this makes sense.

More of, I dislike swap aus because I do not think that Curt would become any time of DMA, nor would Owen leave being a spy once Curt was presumed dead

And also

OWEN WOULD NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS LEAVE CURT THE WAY CURT LEFT HIM!!

Owen would rather die than do that. Curt mattered so much to him, if Curt slipped, there's no way only one of them was making it out alive. If it was anyone, it'd be Curt, because he would sacrifice himself for Curt to live.

At one point, I believe, that Owen stopped caring about missions that had anything to do with Curt. He did not care for his government, he understood that it was bullshit. Which is very different to Curt, who very clearly cares for those he works with, despite them being awful.

Owen understands that MI6 cares for him because he is a good spy, and that if they found out that he was gay, he would not matter at all. Curt may realize this with ASS, yes, however I don't believe he fully grasps it the way Owen does, or doesn't care as much. Curt still does his job because he wants to help his country, Owen does it because he simply has to.

So, therefore, if Owen left Curt, in the 0.333% percent chance that happens, and Curt survives, I do not think he'd take it as a personal attack the way Owen does. Curt rationalized him leaving Owen because it was what he was supposed to do as a spy, he needed to leave Owen to save himself. He'd likely come to this conclusion if he was left for dead by Owen, despite it hurting.

If Curt were to then be captured by Russians (which to me is what happened to Owen), and then found and rescued by Chimera, and nursed back to health, I also do not think Curt would go along with their idea. He says that the idea of some type of archival system bores him, that he has no interest in it. I'm unsure if Chimera would know this about him and therefore give him another reason to go along with them (since I doubt they just have the archival mission, but many). Even then, I doubt he'd ever become some type of DMA figure, or that he would ever rise through the ranks the way Owen did. I doubt Curt would want to go behind the backs of his country either, and certainly not if they're working with Russians or Nazi's. He values the US too much, and especially in a cold war era, I don't think he'd be able to put his nations pride aside for something that I don't think he'd care much for.

And Owen. Well jesus Owen would never stop working after Curt possibly died. Owen would work his ass off because now that's all he has. If he was going to escape his agency, it would have been with Curt. He will never find someone like Curt and certainly couldn't run off if it wasn't with him. Owen would rather prefer to work himself to the bone than never take any breaks again, likely working until he dies. I think his performance in missions would diminish, but he'd get them done. It'd be clear that he's ruining himself, however how much would MI6 care? I'm not sure

Anywho. If there's any type of saf swap au, it would be some type of "Owen somehow for some reason leaves curt for dead, curt leaves chimera right after they heal him (whether he needs to sneak out or not), he finds Owen who's probably trying not to bash his head into a wall, punches him in the face for leaving him, before never letting him go and they go into the woods and have a gay wedding but not legally married thing" or something.

[lil-dragon-rawr]

TOH x DC: Eda Becomes a Chem Teacher

Masterlist

TW: Eda eats a mouse

So, Eda has a great character arc where she recognizes a problem in society (school) and makes it better when she becomes an adult (by opening her own super cool school). But she needs a job while she and her various kids are hanging out in Gotham because the landlord doesn't accept snails. And since Gotham is famous for people disappearing and/or going rogue, there's usually jobs to be found in many schools but particularly in the chemistry department since chemicals - and the know-how of how to mix them - is a hot commodity among rogues.

Anyways, Eda gets a human teaching certificate and becomes a chem teacher. The problem? She makes potions, not reactions and solutions. The other, much larger problem? She is learning human chem - which should be a good thing, right? - but you forget that this is Eda we're talking about. AKA Wild Witch No. 1 for decades, queen of mixing magic and blowing stuff up.

Eda, during her first class: hello everyone, I'll be your teacher this year, my name is Eda, please don't call me Ms. Clawthorne cause it makes me feel old

One particularly bold student who Does Not Care Because This Is Gotham: yeah but aren't you?

Eda, slightly miffed but proud that someone's standing up to a teacher/authority figure: oh perfect, a volunteer

Duke, who knows Eda as Signal: *starts freaking out because what does she mean by volunteer*

Eda: there are no wrong answers in this class and experimentation is encouraged, just run your plan by me so you don't lose any limbs

Eda, staring ominously into the distance: Titan knows I've lost enough of those already

Class: *is silent because when the lady with a hook for an arm tells you to talk to her before you start experimenting, you listen*

Eda, ignoring the panicked faces of students who have watched waaaay too many people go rogue: so today you'll all be learning how to make sleeping poti-um, solutions

(Cue confused whispering)

Eda: so the main ingredient you'll need is sleeping nettle, but I've found that concentrated valerian root works as a good substitute-

Student, raising their hand: what's sleeping nettle?

Eda, waving her hook vaguely: don't worry about it, it's not native. We will need a few chunks of water though as that will eventually vaporize and help the solution disperse as a gas - can anyone tell me what we might use to trigger a vaporization reaction?

Duke is pleasantly surprised to discover that despite Eda's...chaotic tendencies, she's actually a good teacher. The demonstration ends with her instructing the "volunteer" to wake her with a different brew sitting on her desk when she takes a whiff of the freshly-brewed sleeping solution. And sure enough, it only takes one whiff before she's slumped over her desk, snoring comedically loudly. The antidote, which she promised to teach next class before having the students brew their own sleeping solutions, works perfectly. The main problems are a) Eda doesn't use measurements and b) she's either on her way to becoming a rogue or is content to help others become rogues.

She gets a visit from Batman that night.

Batman, perched on the balcony of Eda's apartment:

Eda, trying to have a nice evening in with King and Luz: do you have a warrant?

Batman: no.

Eda: good, cause I wouldn't let you in even if you did. Anyways, what can I say to make you go away faster?

Batman: ...you started teaching.

Eda: astute observation from the master detective. You see that, kids?

King and Luz: *snickering*

Batman, used to the Batkids being similarly blasphemous: do you really think it's a good idea to teach people how to make potions? Especially in Gotham where the turnover rates are correlated to how many new villains there are?

Luz, very passionate: people only turn into villains if you treat them like villains!

Batman:

Luz: (•`-'•)

Batman, wondering when someone barely in their 20s got wiser than him (it was when he adopted a kid on impulse):

Eda, sticking to her (thankfully metaphorical) guns: look, people are going to do good things or bad things regardless of what they know or don't know how to do. The least I can do is help them learn to defend themselves! Besides, why should knowledge be restricted to the upper class? Everyone knows that if you're rich or famous enough there's only so many roadblocks that will actually be...y'know. Roadblocks. I'm just evening the playing field!

Eda continues teaching.

She teaches how to accelerate healing, how to ease chronic conditions, how to make darkness appear at one's fingertips. She shows students how to condense water molecules in the air and turn them into ice shards or even whole blocks of ice. She invites questions and discussions and new ideas. She gives bonus points for improving or modifying recipes.

Her class quickly becomes the school favorite. It's a mix between "easy A" and "learn how to make things go boom". Exam days are literally just "brew something new". It can be a variation on a recipe from class or a completely new one. The only requirement is that students tell Eda what they're doing before they do it. At the end of the exam, everyone grabs their concoctions and goes outside for a mock battle. (Technically, this part is optional and Eda retains the right to ban any student's creation if she thinks it's unsafe, but she supplies plenty of her own "relatively harmless" potions they can use.)

Things spiral when one student walks into her room during lunch (in their defense they just wanted to ask a question) and sees her talking to the weird new freshman, King, while her non-hook arm stirs a pot...on a counter six feet away from her.

Cue freak-outs, debates, and many, many more theories. Bets are placed among the student population (minus King - the entire school worked together to make sure neither he nor his "buddy" Damian Wayne found out about the betting pool). Most popular bets include Eda has several hyper-realistic prosthetic limbs aside from the hook, Eda is just a straight up witch, and King is weird because his mom is Eda who is a witch.

The betting pool gets even more chaotic when they're working on brewing blabber serums and Eda warns the class that a blabber serum is just a few degrees shy of a horrifying monster serum. Nobody really knows what to do with that information, but a student who tries to make said horrifying monster serum during the next exam doesn't get to drink it during the mock battle because Eda snatches it out of their hands when they try to walk outside. She brings the vial to the front of the classroom and explains what the student did, the expected effectiveness of it, and the fastest way to reverse the effects, which turns out just involves exposing the subject to copious amounts of ice.

Betting pool expands to include "Eda lost her arm to a horrifying monster that she created" and "Eda was force-fed an overcooked blabber serum and turned into a horrifying monster".

Then Eda caught and ate a mouse that had gotten loose in the cafeteria, and the betting pool immediately split between "Eda is a witch and does weird witchy things as a result" and "Eda turned into a horrifying monster and still has some of the horrifying monster urges"...which are both technically true.

The students collectively agree that whether or not Eda's a witch or a monster or just a really weird lady from Connecticut, she's the most fun - and most relevant (this is Gotham) - chem teacher they've ever had. No one tells their parents about the mock battles. If the school does an inspection of the class, everyone is on their best behavior and talks loudly about how much they love the class. Someone sees the mock battle on exam day? Don't worry, it's definitely just a water balloon fight with special effects.

The school board doesn't know what to do. She's borderline unhinged, and the reactions she's teaching definitely shouldn't be possible. Is the school going to get targeted for her skills? Should they get rid of her before she inevitably goes rogue? But they can't fire her because where are they going to get a replacement?

Turns out, this is the safest the school has ever been. Not only did Luz and King befriend Wallace Cobblepot*, aka the Penguin's kid, Eda also befriended Wallace because he's in her chem class. The other Imps really like Eda, too, so their parents are in on it as well (minus Mad Hatter, who is currently in Arkham's hospital wing recovering from burns). Any rogue that so much as sniffs near the chem lab gets a house call from the Penguin, if not the Riddler and Scarecrow, too.

*See Part Four

But rogues aren't the only ones protecting the school anymore. Most students who have taken Eda's class carry around sleeping solutions, flash freeze potions (referred to as Mr. Freeze Could Never if another teacher is nearby), instant darkness brews (lovingly called Batman-in-a-Bottle), mini-bombs, and various healing potions. Also, with all the mock battles they do, their aim is getting really good.

Overall, the school board and students think they have a handle on things, albeit in vastly different ways...until someone else from Connecticut applies for the band and orchestra teacher positions, which have been open since the beginning of the year.

[herearedragons]

I keep referencing Deadfire Selene being extremely unwell on this blog so I should probably spell at least some things out about her tbh.

TL;DR Deadfire is the Selene Torment Nexus and this is a list of reasons why

point #1: going all in on the "the Watcher is technically dead" thing

my favorite take on this for her is actually in the two-Watcher au with @curiouslavellan's Helaine, where her and Selene are soul twins (fractured from the Inquisitor's soul), and at the beginning of Deadfire Helaine is the only one in Caed Nua. Selene is in Dyrford. she senses Helaine's soul being torn away and basically burns off a lot of her own soul essence trying to keep the fragment of Helaine that hasn't gone into Eothas from fading away. which, she succeeds, but also there's a hole in her own soul now that, unlike Helaine's, can't be repaired with a missing puzzle piece that Eothas stole. Berath fixes her with a chime that kind of fills that void, but basically it's unclear whether Selene can even exist without the chime at this point

in her solo verse I can't really do that, obviously, so instead I'm just focusing on how Selene doesn't really know if Berath is going to let her keep living once she gets the rest of her soul back or go "well you DID die, so thanks for the help, on the Wheel you go" and also like. in general, feeling like a shell of her former self because most of her soul is gone. she struggles to see herself as the same person Edér and the others are used to, and to believe that she's still capable

basically in either version this ends up with her knowing that she's a lesser version of what she used to be, and that she might be living on borrowed time. which she proceeds to talk to absolutely no one about until compelled by The Circumstances (the Neketaka Ghost Explosion Incident) to do so. in her mind, she doesn't want anyone to know how vulnerable she is because that's a Her Problem and morale is already low enough as it is

point #2: the telepathy

she loses her telepathy and most of her cipher powers with the chunk of her soul. she also loses the collected memories that have plagued her for the entirety of her adult life. cool, right?

in reality, losing access to other people's minds after relying on it for decades just leaves her feeling lonely and isolated and also struggling to believe at times that the people are actually there because she can't sense them. her ranger companion (the last creature she does have a psychic bond with, still) helps, though. everyone say thank you to Whiskers the therapy lion

point #3: Caed Nua

her house is gone and all the people that were there are dead and she's grieving it way more than the dialogue in Deadfire allows you to

point #4: Edér

so the dynamic is already weird at the beginning of Deadfire because the cumulative weight of everything I've discussed so far is causing Selene to withdraw into herself and relapse into her worst habits of "I'm just going to keep all of my suffering right here, and then I'll die". which. he can see she's not okay, but also she's not really letting him in, and he doesn't really know what he can do except give her space and hope that she gets better. which is a kind of helplessness he knows all too well

Xoti, who obviously can't possibly know their history or what's happening between them and is too busy crushing on Edér and praising Eothas to notice she's deaing psychic damage to both of them, does NOT help. especially because Edér is very obviously uncomfortable with her, while Selene ends up feeling weirdly sympathetic because she's been in a cult, she's been in Xoti's place, and she wants to believe that maybe she can snap Xoti out of it (she can't). so she wants to keep her around.

then there's the thing with Bearn, and like. him already being with a relationship with Selene (and also my general thoughts on him and Elafa) means that in this version Edér reacts to everything a little differently, but he's still both freaked out and excited at the prospect of potentially having a son, which does Selene in. because. he's never getting that with her. she's a godlike. she's a Watcher. she might be dead in a few weeks, and if not in a few weeks, then in a few months or years the gods will surely devise a new way to make her suffer, and Edér will get dragged along again, and he already has way less time on Eora than she does because he's folk, and is she just keeping him from the life he really wants to have?

the rest of it isn't really about Selene being unwell but just know it's a whole mess and they even break up about it at one point. they get back together later but it happens

point #5: Ondra

sailing.

I wrote a couple of posts about Selene and Tekēhu but basically his presence doesn't improve Selene's mental state either

point #6: welcome to being the Deadfire's errand girl

in my mind Selene has a closer relationship with Lady Webb than POE1 shows, studying under her during Act 2 as she investigates the Leaden Key's activities, and basically becomes an honorary member of Dunryd Row. after Thaos' death Selene puts her influence and wealth as the Roadwarden to use helping Dunryd Row to recover from the Hadret House massacre, and basically ends up being in charge of a lot of it as a "consultant". point being, she spends a lot of time in Defiance Bay during the timeskip, and becomes way more familiar with politics and espionage, and the powers that be notice

with the above in mind, honestly even if she wasn't a Watcher, upon arriving to the Deadfire every faction would try to get her to do stuff for them immediately purely as a political move

and yeah she's more shrewd than she used to be, she knows they're playing the game, but also this just makes her more aware of the humiliation of going from having the Dyrwood's most powerful spy network at her fingertips to agreeing to do a pirate's dirty work and take his weird cipher with you because his ship's guns are trained on you and your own cipher powers have barely started to recover and you did piss off a few pirates in Neketaka so if you refuse now, you'll pretty sure this guy might get them to declare war on you just to prove a point. she's out of her depth. she's still trying

[s3aweed-brain]

[percy felt heat rise in his throat, the insinuation that he needed the praise, needed the fame made his face heat. octavian had no idea the kinds of things percy did, nor did the augur know why he did them. percy didn't want fame. he would've been perfectly fine staying sally jackson's kid on the upper east side, but life had different plans. percy took on prophecies to save other people from having to bear them, not because he wanted to be in the limelight. not that octavian understood the concept of self-sacrifice for any noble cause. and there it was again, octavian thinking everything was handed to percy, octavian using his parentage against him. it wasn't his fault his father was poseidon. and he didn't choose to leverage it against anyone, not unless it was necessary. percy ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously mirroring octavian's movement, tugging slightly, almost imperceptibly, trying to ground himself and tell himself that octavian was doing this on purpose. he didn't often lash out at people, it wasn't in his nature. but when percy did get angry... well, it wasn't the nicest thing he'd inherited from his dad, to say the least. there was just something about how easily octavian was brushing him aside, how cavalier he was being about all of it... like it didn't matter one bit that percy had been almost dying on a yearly-biyearly basis since he was twelve years old. he took a breath. you could say a lot of things about percy, but accusing him of needing fame? of wanting it? that wasn't one of them. he was happy where he was. there was too large a part of him, maybe, that was willing to put his head on the chopping block if it meant sparing someone else, but before octavian twisted it, he'd never thought of that as something dirty, or as something he should be ashamed of.]

[he'd been silent for a few seconds, steeping in what the blonde had said to him. when he spoke, his voice was softer than before, though no less firm] you're right. the gods are strategic about which of us they give attention to. [he met octavian's gaze] but i bet that kills you, doesn't it? you act like you wouldn't want a chance at the kinds of quests you're mocking me for. though, i guess that's the difference between us. you'd be doing it for yourself. i always did it for someone else.

[it was true. when percy was 14, he'd had a choice, he could've left The Prophesy to nico. had he taken that out, he probably wouldn't have been sent on any of the quests that followed. he made the choice to keep that burden off of nico, because he couldn't let the fate of olympus rest on the shoulders of a kid who was 11 at the time. he remembered the first time he went to olympus, and the goddess athena looked him in the face and told him his fatal flaw was personal loyalty. how he can't truly bring himself to see that as a weakness. he swallowed again, around the emotion that welled in his throat at those memories. he'd been through hell with annabeth because he refused to let her go it alone. he had nearly died in the sea of monsters because he couldn't bear to think of losing grover. time and time again, he had put his life on the line, but he'd done it because he couldn't let the price of someone else's be paid.]

[percy swallowed again, trying to refocus. he was still fighting to keep himself collected. he didn't even care if he gave octavian the satisfaction of knowing that, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking. if the augur wanted to cast stones of doubt into what percy did, let him. the larger part of percy knew a lot of what he was saying didn't matter much. he knew that the reason the gods placed importance on him so young was because he was a forbidden child, that children like him had been forbidden for a reason. that didn't fundamentally change the fact that he did so much. he rarely liked putting it in as many words, but percy knew that he'd taken actions that had saved lives. and he couldn't let octavian cheapen that. he wouldn't let octavian cheapen that. he took a steadying breath, clenching and flexing his hands again, more to dispel the nervous energy collecting in them than for any other reason]

it probably bothers you, doesn't it? not having a chance to prove yourself to the gods you try so desperately to please?

i can’t believe you’re back.

- @s3aweed-brain

"I can't believe you're still kicking."

[cradle-of-darkness]

What have you done?

based on an idea @username8746489 had where sylvie discovered nightmare fuel for the first time on accident while getting bullied by some older kids (and pushing him further into social isolation now that he's known as "that scary kid who could summon someone's worst fear")

[magnusmodig]

ovo whispers menacingly abt his grandstanding .

[freewilllife]

It's the man's child as well, he should have some say in it. Losing a child is an unimaginable pain. There are ways to help a woman through pregnancies. There's risk with everything.

Nope, because it is not his body, therefore not his decision. I would advise him to find a willing partner. There should be plenty outside.

Catholicism is not a cult. It's not accepted as a cult by many scholars and such. The only people I've heard call it a cult are those who hate it. Fear of God is not supposed to necessarily mean being terrified of God. I think it just means respect and knowing that God is powerful. But who knows?

I am not catholic, I merely went to a catholic school. But let´s open the cup of worms. This confession is built on many dead bodies and lots of opression. And with all the martyrs/saints in there, can we be sure, it is a nice "religion"?

Actually I disagree. Unfortunately an aspect religious people/Christians got often told wrongly.

Respect is given absolutely voluntarily as a sign that you value something or somebody. You are aware of their worth to you and/or others. The positive attitude and acts towards it or her/him are a result of this process.

Fear is a reaction of your body, because a) a situation is foreign to you. b) You react to a dangerous situation or person. Your positive reaction to this it/her/him merely persists, because you are aware that the other party could hurt you. This is not real respect, merely fear that hides it ugly head behind a nicer appearance.

Believe it or not Christianity helped women a lot. Turns out the belief that “all humans are created in the image of God” makes people respect women a whole lot more.

I don´t believe it, because I know, it is absolutely untrue. Just genesis alone disproves your point of view.

"I will greatly multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children, yet your desire shall be for your husband and he shall rule over you" (Gen. 3:16)"

Further proof:

Here in the first letter of Paul to Timothy is Eve´s sin even refered as the reason, why men are right to oppress women.

Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach or usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. For Adam was first formed and then Eve, and Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression...( I Timothy 2:11 - 14)

For the man is not of the woman, but the woman of the man. Let the women keep silence in the churches, for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience, so saith the law. And if they learn anything, let them ask their husbands at thome; for it is a shame for women to speak in the church (I Corinthians 11:3, 7,9)

Just the parts of the Bible I show you here, emphasize that women are nothing other than underlings to men and are at their service.

Surely it did help men, but women? Not at all.

By letting others play God and decide who is worthy of living and who isn't?

No, by allowing women to have agency over their bodies, freeing them from one more shackle that men love to place upon us.

Fortunately, we do not need god to end a pregnancy.

Everyone suffers (whether they are “wanted” or not), doesn't give anyone the right to murder for that reason. People can overcome their suffering though, it's possible. Can be hard, but it's possible.

I ask you this in all honesty: Are you alright? It is a normal reaction of a human being to avoid misery. A person running over an edge should be helped.

Without the woman, there is no baby, therefore yes, she has a right to end the pregnancy, if she wants to. The clump of cells never develops to a baby, because it needs the woman´s body in order to do so.

Religions always tended to forget the part with "no murder", when they could oppress other groups/foreign countries - unfortunately.

Everyone suffers (whether they are “wanted” or not), doesn't give anyone the right to murder for that reason. People can overcome their suffering though, it's possible. Can be hard, but it's possible.  

Are you alright? Really alright?

Yes, misery cannot be 100 % avoided and sometimes it is necessary to learn. But this is not a misery that can be "overcome" so simply or is even necessary.

Also you've been most kind. I appreciate the civil words.

I appreciate your civility as well. It is rare and the topic is so important to both of us, ...even though I doubt, that we will ever agree.

@aod1098

The pro-life movement does not just think of men as humans. We consider the fetus (little human) as a life and it is one worth protecting. Women are also considered in this equation. Despite popular belief, women do not benefit from abortion. Women's mental health are affected by killing their unborn children. Females who have had abortions are more likely to suffer from mental health issues (Medicaid study in California) and do not receive adequate care afterwards (Vincent Rue Study) and suffer deeply from their abortions. Everyone is a human in the pro-life movement. We don't hate males or females for whatever reason.

In all kindness, I do not suscribe to your belief system, therefore it is pretty irrelevant to me, if you believe this or not.

Men's half is a very important part after all we couldn't have the baby if not for their half. It takes two and both sides are equally important.

It is the women´s body who builts the baby, who has the greater costs in that process, who takes the greater risk, therefore the opinion of a man is pretty irrelevant regarding abortion.

Abortion is not a human right. Our rights extend until it affects the life of another. When a woman is pregnant, there is another life that is involved, the most innocent of them all. Abortion procedures are inhuman, it takes the life of the child and in brutal ways. No one should have the right to end the life of another.

Oh, but it should be. The right for all women to abort, if they want to or to keep it, only if they want to.

The child is a parasyte that merely lives dependant on her life and body. So it should be absolutely possible for the woman in question to end this situation, if she wishes it.

By the way, that means you are even against all abortion, where the life of the woman is at stake? Even when the child is already dead inside the poor women and it might cost her life?

You would honestly rather traumatize a woman to have "give birth" to a corpse?

And you would rather condemn a child to live in utter pain, if the defects are too gave?

That also means that are blind and deaf to the misery of the oh-so-importan-life, if the child suffers due to the circumstances it is birthed into? Sometimes it is the correct decision to abort, if you can literally cannot afford a child or if the child would face neglect or abuse. There are enough horrible parents on this earth.

You lack clear empathy for other women. You can decide for yourself to have as many children until your teeth fall out, but why would you deny another woman agency regarding her own body. Are you jealous, maybe? Nope just concerned for other women because I (and other pro lifers) are concerned for the ladies.

Ah, so you show your empathy by taking away their agency? That´s a far cry from empathy, if you ask me...

This is a gross sentiment (among other things you said) I see a lot from the other side. I don't see how spreading hate on the other sex helps your side one bit. Division causes nothing but more pain. Men and women are equally important and needed in daily life. They are usually the ones who do jobs none of the women like (oil riggers, firefighting, and more physical straining jobs) as well as the other half to creating life. If you want to make change you should try getting others on your side, not hating on half of the population, it just draws people away from your cause...Not that I want your abortion stance to draw more people. You can do whatever you want with your body. As long as you don't effect the life of another (life in the womb included) I don't care.

I honestly don´t know if I should cry or laugh about this.

I think, I prefer laughing.

I hope, you are as concerned with the misogynistic moids, who rape and dehumanize women, as with a woman like me, who just wishes to stay the fuck away from men.

I curious as to what cult you were raised in. Everyone's environment influences how they turn out later in life, in different ways for everyone. For religions people leave their religions they were raised in and others stay. It's different for everyone. Happens a lot. Around 93% of America was Christian in the 60s, not anymore (not even close). A lot of people left. Also the pro life movement is a lot more divisive then you think. There's Christians, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics, and more. Men and women are in the movement as well. I agree there are some religions that don't treat women fairly at all. Not all of them though. Some religion may have mistreated women, but some religion has also helped women elevate their status and gain more rights. After all women are biologically weaker than men, men could easily overpower women if they wanted to. Religion has helped this from happening through morals.

I am not American and I hardly share sensitive information like this. According to my religion teacher in middle school, the belief I had was classsified as a cult. And I went to a catholic school...I got additional religious education by the church, we went to and by my father. As a child I was scared of god, greatly...All the sins I committed by being basically alive.

Show me a religion who does treat women well? Their common ground seems to be that they all oppress women, only the degree differs greatly.

I think I have an interesting book for you:

The better half - On the genetic superiority of women

by Sharon Moalem

And religion has been used for thousands of years to justify oppression and evil deeds...in the name of god. Murder seems to be absolutely

Also the pro life movement is a lot more divisive then you think. There's Christians, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics, and more. Men and women are in the movement as well.

Spectacular, so many fractions that have something against women having agency and a choice in that matter. I am sorry, but this is disheartening for me.

Abortion is dangerous (whether it's legal or illegal) whether it be the procedures themselves or the mental or physical affects afterwards.

Self-inflicted abortion or by an untrained person is absolutely dangerous, by a trained person and legally, not more dangerous than other medical operations. The sooner the better even.

Some woman go to great length to get rid of the child. Allowing it makes the process safer...Often the woman has to wait too long to abort.

If the woman decides not to give the baby up for adoption, there is pregnancy centers that are designed to help these women (at least in America). If a country doesn't have this, they should.

She still has to go through an unwanted pregnancy that changes her body. Some women just don´t want to go through it.

And the child suffers due to the process. An adopted child often has issues with feelings of abandonment. It is not as clean and easy, as you make it sound.

Taking care of a baby is also not the end of the world and can be quite joyful.

Who are you, that you can decide for every woman?

Some women aren´t born to be mothers and I absolutely wish for them to stay childless, if they want to.

Additionally there are enough already abused and neglected children on this world.

Not a form of self defense. Having the baby doesn't mean demise for the women. It is questioned whether we ever need abortions since technology has advanced so far that we could just have the woman give birth early and take care of the early birthed baby for any health complicated pregnancies. The baby poses no threat so it can't be a form of self defense.

Again, you cannot say this, without actually knowing the situation of the individual woman. In some cases, it is very well an absolute catastrophe.

The fetus cannot be considered a parasite either sense the women and the child are from the same species.

It very well is, if you like it or not. The child does not give the mother anything useful during pregnancy, but takes from her body important resources.

There is a reason, why pregnancy is not possible, if the women is too thin and lacks nutrients.

I sorry to hear about all those experiences of those people you know and for the ones that occurred in your own. Also can take years for the affects of abortion to actually take affect, but they do come. Life can be very cruel. Any hardship the child might have in their life does not diminish the importance of their life. I do think that everyone should work to make a better system for children who may have been unwanted by their mothers for whatever reason. We shouldn't be killing humans with unfortunate lives though. I do wish you would value yourself more. You're more important than you give yourself credit for. It's just sad.

Thank you, that is nice of you, nevertheless.

A woman having or not having an abortion results both times in some kind of negative feelings.

I´d rather wish only for women, who like to be mothers, to become a parent.

The problem with your stance...it takes agency away from the individual woman due to your own flawed belief system. Just that you understand me right: My own belief system is also flawed, because it is subjective. My moral compass are not rules forced upon others.

However I´d rather not play god, but let the people in question have a choice.

This seems to be a better approach than forcing people, that more often than not leads to tragedy.

You cannot change the fact, that the mothers didn´t want the child...you cannot brainwash people to that degree. The child still knows and still suffers. Even within the most stable families.

We all wish to know, where we come from. Preventing this, takes even agency away from the child.

I would call having extreme defecies and great pain not "unfortunate lives"...that would be too superficial.