#this is my first time doing this lol my bad

[wileycap]

I think we in the A:TLA fandom have missed the absolute potential of the fact that Ozai Firelord is canonically a fucking idiot. I mean the dude's straight up stupid. And I want to be very clear that this isn't a plot hole, this isn't a flaw in the show, this is a fantastic and super realistic element that honestly enhances my enjoyment of it! Dictators are often stupid and breed a culture of cronyism-over-competence. Any similarities with real world leaders, dead or alive, are coincidental yet inevitable.

What do I mean?

Well, let's take the Drill. When faced with the problem of Big Wall, Ozai's Fire Nation comes up with Big Drill. One singular Big Drill. Which, as anyone except an idiot could have predicted, immediately breaks down and accomplishes nothing. And if the Fire Nation had made it past the wall, then they would have been fighting through a narrow opening against people who can hurl long distance rocks! Which, if your face or body is vulnerable to high velocity rocks, is a bad thing for you and also for the battle.

Not to mention the resource cost of that thing! It's so insanely gigantic, it must have cost the Fire Nation the equivalent of trillions. For ONE drill. Not ten smaller drills. Just ONE drill. (Fanfic fuel: how much did Ba Sing Se profit off of stripping that drill for parts? Did they reverse engineer it? Did Long Feng keep that for himself?)

And you might be thinking, fairly, that it was War Minister Qin who came up with the drill and you'd be right, but it's Ozai who's approving all this shit. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and asking Qin if he et the whole edible, or even the in-character thing of burning him to death, Ozai just goes... big drill. Makes sense. We should have the biggest drill, because we are the biggest nation. Drill, baby, drill. sorry

It's not the first time, either! He also approves Zhao's invasion of the North Pole, apparently just because Zhao is good at kissing ass and hates Zuko? I couldn't tell you what merits Zhao has. We do not see him lead a single successful mission. The closest he comes is Pohuai, and even then its the Yuyan archers who do most of the work. (My longstanding headcanon is that the reason we don't see the Yuyan archers again is because Zhao blamed the whole thing on them and they were disbanded. This is great fic fuel for displaced Yuyan archers just, wandering around, being elite.)

He approved a massive naval invasion of the North Pole, surrounded by and made of water and ice, inhabited by people who bend water. A nation that was, by its own choice, completely out of the war.

Every time we see Ozai doing something, it's something stupid. Like disfiguring and banishing his firstborn child in a culture that has primogeniture. And then (once he's done pissing away a massive fleet of ships) he does the logical thing and sends his only other heir to bring his first heir back - even though his first heir would have been willing to return with a simple invitation. Like he could have sent a letter saying "dear son come home miss u pick up 200 000 tons of steel qin wants 2 build a drill lol", and Zuko would have come. (Okay, he did have a valid reason for having Zuko escorted, since he thought Iroh was a traitor, but there's absolutely NO reason to risk Azula. Why not send Combustion Man? It's the luckiest stroke of luck ever that Azula is 100 times more competent than her dad.)

Of course, a dictator(-wannabe) sending his daughter on high-level diplomatic missions is pure fiction. Nobody would do that.

The best part of this is that it's entirely realistic and in-character. I could absolutely imagine Ozai purging all of his competent admirals and generals, and then promoting brownnoses like Zhao and crackpots like Qin, because they promised him glorious destinies and secret knowledge of Big Drill.

I also really, really want a scene of Zuko and Azula realizing that their father is a fucking idiot.

I would also like to note that all this stupid shit happens after Iroh leaves with Zuko. So, here's a headcanon: the only reason the Fire Nation didn't immediately implode when Ozai took the throne and purged everyone is because of Iroh. Iroh leaving with Zuko doomed Ozai. It's also a nice little drop of complexity in Iroh's character - he knew he was single-handedly keeping the Fire Nation afloat, yet he only left when Zuko did. Did he plan for Zuko to take the throne from the start? What was his plan before Aang showed up? Did he not intervene in the Agni Kai because he was afraid, or because he knew that Ozai was making a huge mistake and didn't want to interrupt? Give me chessmaster Iroh please.

[ekybrini]

you're the right one | Will Smith

Request: Hi! I have a request if you are up to writing it. Can I please request a Will Smith fic where he and reader are out on a date, and people keep coming up to ask for pictures and autographs, and she happily takes pictures if asked, but for the most part the fans ignore her or make snide remarks. And she starts feeling bad because she feels that she can’t keep up with his world and doesn’t belong with him. And so Will invites her over and he makes her dinner and gets her flowers, does everything. And he basically praises her and thanks her for staying with him and supporting him through his rookie year.

— ⟡ summary | After a rough night out leaves y/n feeling out of place, Will comforts her with flowers, dinner, and gentle reminders that she means everything to him.

— ⟡ warnings | None (that I know of)

— ⟡ word count | 2.3k

— ⟡ gabs note | hiiii !!!! I finally finished this after like almost a month of it being in my drafts lol. Who knew the last two months of school were actually going to be a living hell. THANKFULLY I graduate in exactly a month so I'll be able to start being more active on here which means more post!! if anyone would like to request something don't hesitate !! I won't get to them right away but I will end up writing it sometimes when I have time.

You tell yourself it didn't bother you at first.

The stares. The whispers. Or how your name gets left out of every “Can I get a picture with you, will?” request.

That is just part of dating him. 

You try to focus on the warmth in his eyes. The way his knee brushes against yours under the table. The way he said “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” when he picked you up tonight after the two long roadies.

And he meant that.

The first fan comes by after your appetizers hit the table. Young guy, maybe in high school, nervous, polite, asking to sign a sharks jersey. Will grins, he takes a picture and signs the jersey. He is sweet about it, he always is. You simile and even offer to take the picture. You’ve gotten used to this by now. You’ve known what it meant to be with him since the beginning of your relationship. 

You just didn’t expect the stream of fans to keep coming. 

Another one stops mid conversation. Then another. And another. You take a couple more pictures. Will never says no. He apologies each time with a sheepish smile and squeezes your hand each time, but you can feel the distance building up with every polite interruption. 

Your food arrives. You push it around your plate, your appetite fading like the candle in front of you guys. 

And of course it happens again.

You're mid laugh at something Will said, something genuinely funny, something that made you forget about how you two can’t seem to have a private moment when a group of girls passes by your table. They slow down pretending to glance at their menu, but their eyes are on Will.

“He’s even cuter in person,” one whispers.

Another snorts softly. “No kidding. And he’s with her?”

“He could definitely do better if he tried.” The girl replied back. 

Will stiffens next to you like he heard it too.

But you don’t wait to see if he’ll say something. You excuse yourself with a bright smile and make your way to the bathroom before your voice cracks.

You stare at yourself in the mirror feeling your chest get tight, fingers gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles ache.

You knew it could be like this. You’ve seen the comments online, the subtle glances, the disbelief in people’s faces when they realize you're together. You always thought you could handle it. You thought if you loved him enough, if he loved you enough it wouldn’t matter.

But tonight, it feels like you’re trying to breathe underwater.

You fix your makeup, though it doesn’t fix anything. You smooth down your dress, though it still doesn’t feel like it fits right. You stare at yourself until the flush in your cheeks fades enough to pass as normal, then go back out there and pretend you weren’t just unraveling in a public restroom.

Will’s sitting up straighter when you return. There’s a shared dessert waiting at your seat, your favorite, a small cookie pie with vanilla ice cream on top. 

His smile is small, searching. “Thought we could end the night on a sweet note.”

You sit down feeling your heart twisting.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “That’s really sweet of you.”

He watches you for a moment longer than usual. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

It’s not a lie. You’ve had a long day, but it's not the reason for you shutting down. 

He doesn’t push. He never does when you shut down like this. Instead, he forks a bite of cookie and offers it to you across the table.

You take it.

You make it through dessert. You make it through the ride home. He tells you he’ll text you when he makes it home. kisses your temple like he always does, lingering just long enough for you to feel guilty for pulling away.

You go inside and lean against the door, blinking against the burn behind your eyes.

Will hasn’t done anything wrong. That’s the hardest part.

He’s just being himself, kind, open, unaware of every careless comment, every ignored glance, every fan who acts like you’re invisible. He doesn’t know how small you felt tonight. How you keep wondering if people see you and think he settled.

You crawl into bed fully dressed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind looping that one cruel comment over and over again.

And he’s with her? 

You close your eyes and try not to cry.

The next morning you wake to the soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand. It will.  It’s still dark out, the sky a dull gray that matches the fog in your chest.

“Good morning, pretty girl. Hope you slept okay.”

Your chest tightens. You stare at the message for a while then type back slowly.

“Morning. Slept alright. Hope practice isn’t too rough today.”

You press send before you can second guess yourself. It’s casual. Normal. Exactly the kind of message he’s used to from you. But it feels like a lie, even if the words are technically true.

You’re not ignoring him. You just can’t bring yourself to say what’s really on your mind.

The way the girl at the restaurant looked you up and down like you were some sort of joke. The way you felt more like a shadow than someone’s date. The way Will didn’t seem to notice.

You know it’s not fair to hold that against him. He wasn’t the one who made you feel small, but he also didn’t notice that you were shrinking.

Later, you respond to another one of his texts, something simple about what you’re watching on TV, what you’re having for lunch. You even throw in a little joke. You’re trying. You really are.

And Will is sweet like always.

“Can’t believe you’re watching that without me. Rude.” Will send the message after telling him you’re watching glee.

“You were the one who fell asleep halfway through the last episode. I’m taking initiative.”

He replies with a string of laughing emojis and a gif that makes you smile, just a little.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine. At least that's what you’re telling yourself.

Because every time your phone lights up with his name you feel that familiar twist in your stomach. Like there’s something caught in your throat, something heavy sitting on your chest. Like you’re pretending everything is normal when inside you’re spinning.

You want to tell him. But you don’t want him to think it’s stupid about you being upset over a comment. You know it shouldn’t have hurt you the way it did. 

So you keep replying. Keep smiling through texts. Keep laughing at the right moments. Because silence would make him worry and you don’t want him to worry.

“Come over tonight?”

Your thumb hovers over the screen. You hesitate not because you don’t want to see him, but because you’re scared he’ll see right through you. 

Still, you reply.

“Sure. What time?”

His response is nearly instant.

“Whenever you want. I’ll cook. Something fancy and probably half burnt, but made with love”

That makes your lips twitch, just a little.

By the time you knock on his door, your stomach is in knots. You try to smooth out your expression when he answers, wearing a hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, hair slightly damp, the smell of garlic and something sweet wafting from the kitchen.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

Will leans in and presses a kiss to your temple before pulling you inside. “Hey, you,” he says. “I missed you.”

You nod, setting your bag down. You don’t trust your voice to work yet.

“I went all out,” he says as he leads you to the kitchen. “Like, full Pinterest boyfriend levels. There are candles. I obviously couldn't get wine but if you wanted the full experience i got grape juice if not i got sodas. And I even tried to fold the napkins into those little triangle things. Don’t look too closely.”

Sure enough there’s a small dinner spread waiting on the table. It’s simple pasta, salad, garlic bread slightly burnt around the edges but it’s warm, thoughtful, and made by him. 

And sitting right in the middle of the table is a small bouquet of flowers. Tulips with a mix of wildflowers, your favorite.

You blink. “Will”

He shrugs, suddenly shy. “I know you’ve had a weird couple of days. Thought maybe this would help.”

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat tightens too fast.

He misreads the silence, smile dimming a little. “I didn’t mean to overdo it. I just I guess I wanted you to know I don’t take you for granted. Not ever.”

Your breath stutters. The lump in your throat threatens to spill over.

You reach for a flower stem with trembling fingers. “They’re beautiful,” you whisper.

He nods, watching you carefully. “So are you.”

Will pulls out your chair and sits beside you instead of across, his thigh pressed lightly to yours.

“I don’t know what’s been bothering you,” he says, voice softer now. “But whatever it is, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

You want to tell him everything. The whispers. The way you felt like you didn’t belong. The way his world sometimes feels too loud, too polished, too far from yours.

But for now, you lean your head on his shoulder and he lets you stay quiet.

After a while of silence you pick at your pasta more than you eat it, but the warmth of the food and the soft music Will put on in the background helps ease the ache that’s been sitting in your chest. Will doesn’t push. He just chats about his last practice, about how one of the guys slipped during warmups, how the locker room smelled like actual death because Macklin left a protein shake in his bag over the weekend. You smile weakly at the stories, letting them wrap around you like a blanket.

But eventually, the words stop. He glances over at you, eyes searching and says gently, “You’ve been quiet lately. I mean, more than usual.”

You stare down at your plate. Your fork scrapes against ceramic, and your voice is barely audible when you say, “Yeah. Im sorry”

Will doesn't rush you. He just waits.

Eventually, you set your fork down and take a breath, fingers curling into your lap.

"It was at the restaurant," you say, voice barely more than a whisper.

Will looks up, confusion flickering across his face. He doesn’t say anything, just waits.

"Our date," you add, still not looking at him. “When those fans kept coming over.”

His expression softens, and you can tell he thinks you’re about to say you were overwhelmed by the attention, maybe annoyed. But that’s not it.

“Some of their remarks are incredibly hurtful sometimes. I overheard someone ask if I was your assistance when I was walking to the bathroom. And then there were ones whose whispers were just too loud.”

You pause, swallowing hard.

“They said you could do better and I know,” you add quickly, “I know people say stupid things all the time. I know it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you still felt like shit,” he finishes for you, voice low.

You nod. “I smiled through it. I laughed. Took the photos. And then I went home and felt like maybe they were right.”

“I wish you had told me,” he murmurs. “I wish I’d noticed.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the night. You looked happy.”

“I was happy. Because I was with you.”

His thumb brushes gently over your knuckles. “Listen to me. I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I thought about what they were saying. I don’t care what some strangers at a restaurant think. You think I could survive this year, this pressure, this schedule, this whole new world without you?”

“You’re the best part of all of it,” he says. “You’re the one who keeps me grounded. Who reminds me who I am. That night, I was proud to have you next to me. I just hate that anyone made you feel like you weren’t enough. Because you are. You’re more than enough.”

Your throat tightens as you finally look at him.

“And I made you your favorite dessert,” he adds, almost sheepish. “It’s in the kitchen. I was gonna wait, but”

You laugh wetly, tears spilling as you cover your face with your hands. “You’re such a sap.”

“I know.” He grins, brushing your hands away gently. “But only for you.”

And when he kisses your lips, soft and unhurried, you let yourself believe it that maybe you do belong here with him after all. 

Later that night, you’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, the soft hum of a movie playing in the background. You’re not really watching it, not with Will sitting beside you, one arm around your shoulders, his fingers brushing over your arm in slow, calming strokes.

Will shifts slightly, glancing down at you. “You okay?”

You nod, leaning your head against his chest. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I will be.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. And if anyone ever makes you feel like that again, I’ll personally throw their soup across the restaurant.”

You laugh softly, the sound catching in your throat. “Please don’t start a food fight because of me.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

The warmth in his voice melts something in your chest, and for the first time in a few days, the ache feels like it’s fading.

You trace gentle shapes on the inside of his hoodie sleeve. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

He doesn’t ask what for. He just pulls you closer, holds you tighter. And as your eyes begin to drift shut the rhythm of his heartbeat steady in your ear all you can feel is safe and loved.

The world may never stop whispering, but tonight wrapped in Will’s arms you makes you feel as if you don't have anything to worry about.

[dammit-tazmuir]

That sounds about right lol.

Adding to the Chatur thing, it's further implied with Harrow Nova. She was also still named Harrowhark but only Crux ever used the -hark, because to most it was a reminder that she was not the proper successor to her father. But the fact that she got a different arithmonym as a cavalier, while not a real thing, was rooted in Harrow's real understanding of House culture, after all.

But yeah, you raise probably the most important point: Our view of the Houses IS extremely skewed by only seeing the elite. And even then...

Camilla and Kiana are said to be close, despite Kiana being 10 years older and both kept very busy by very prestigious jobs, as a member of the oversight council and the Master Warden's cavalier. We don't see that directly but Paul's birth was a very intimate moment with a minimal audience, and Camilla did want Kiki there for it. (It also wasn't that she didn't care about her dads being there, but that she was afraid they wouldn't understand, that they'd disapprove. She cared about their opinions.)

Abigail talks about her little brother several times and her nephew is mentioned. She and Magnus wanted kids, and the way they fill the role with Jeannemary and Isaac instead IS transgressive, but it's not a foreign concept. Other people look at them and understand that their behavior is parental. The Houses aren't so removed from past familial dynamics that they don't know what they'd look like.

Protesilaus had a wife and no less than four kids, and had been cavalier to Dulcie's father, and then took Dulcie in and cared for her as a family friend. Pro's kids all sound pretty happy and normal from what little we hear.

Judith talks about her father as an authority figure and aspirational goal first and foremost, and the memories she shares with him all have militant focus, but they do come across as a father pushing his interests onto his kid, not like an instructor training one of many soldiers. It's not Pal and Juno's professional relationship.

Though on that note, it's further interesting that Pal and Juno have one of the most distant but also BEST relationships of any parent and child. He does call her by name and title, but they share mutual deep respect and admiration. Juno does spend his last minutes doing other things but like... he's already dead and they've already talked and you could also view it as just being at peace with it. Juno never treats him like a child, even when he is one, and perhaps there's something lost there, but I suspect while not everyone would, Pal appreciates it. Being taken seriously by Dulcie was such a big part of his adoration, after all.

Juno does show him and Cam some bias, some special treatment, and slips in small moments of basically breaking the kayfabe to show more parental affection and praise. But for the most part she just fully trusts him and encourages him to pursue whatever he thinks is best. It's not warm or the picture of traditional motherhood, but it's healthy and supportive specifically for Pal. It's certainly better than... Judith in her father's shadow, the Third nobles molding their family to fit their artistic vision, the Fourth's "you need spares" culture, Dulcie's family making her inspiration porn and a tragic art piece, the Eighth nobles breeding interchangeable batteries to treat like livestock, or Harrowhark "one of my strongest memories of my parents touching me was gently pressing a rope into my hands" Nonagesimus.

But even looking at the Ninth then, in the wake of all the horrors they endured... Ortus bitterly doubts Mortus even remembered he had a son, but Harrow has a memory of Mortus lifting her up in chapel in a way that's almost fatherly. Gideon is convinced Aiglamene would laugh at the idea of loving her and they are also distant, but Aiglamene clearly cares so deeply. Ortus's mother is clingy and suffocating, but deeply affectionate, still not great but bad in the opposite way. Ortus as a ghost develops something between a paternal and brotherly love for Harrow. And CRUX hears Gideon is God's kid and basically says "FUCK you and fuck GOD, THIS child is MINE and my loyalty is to HER," so like, THERE'S THAT.

Absolutely none of this is arguing against the very real enforced isolation and the ways restructuring encourages loyalty to the empire above all else, to be clear!! I'm saying it's not AS universally extreme as the noble heirs specifically would make it look, and that there's variation within each House, and that even the coldest ones are in fact at least "conversant with the concept of family." They're at minimum acquainted with the idea, even if not everyone practices it and those that do might do it in unusual ways.

One thing I do find especially fascinating in this is looking at the founding Lyctors, not just John.

The House founded by the loyal attack dog and the former cop who struggled to connect with people emphasizes militant obedience. The House founded by the woman accused of only knowing worship without adoration, who is extremely strict about rules and appearances and getting results no matter how many eggs you have to break to get that omelet, and the literal Catholic nun who killed herself twice for noble but misguided conviction, is.... uh... Like That... People have written plenty of analysis on John's two dead kids and the House of child soldier cannon fodder. And then there was Cassy, the lawyer who was deeply good and kind and prioritized safety and fairness but from a very logically grounded place, a woman who was firm and insistent but almost never raised her voice or showed strong outward emotion, and her artist wife who was timid and still worried about their marriage not being legal in the face of apocalypse, and you get the reserved and studious and bureaucratic but uniquely moral driven Sixth.

And then... What was the last House that doesn't have anything but speculation about ways it might be cold? The only one we have no evidence for producing a worse relationship than Pal and Juno above? The one that loves and nurtures their kids even when they're not theirs, the one with a loving personal relationship between its leader and her cavalier, where she's fond of her mothers and brother and nephew and worries about her family being notified after her death. Who was that founder? Oh. Right. The guy who shared an arithmonym with his brother, for which the connotations hadn't become as strong yet, but for all we know may very well be THE precedent setter, the REASON for the developing connotations of a Unit Name. ... Yeah. I suspect the Fifth IS bigger on family bonds than most...

Thinking about how Palamedes tells Pash that they "are conversant with the concept of family in the Houses" in Nona....because, like, are they? Are they really?

Palamedes calls his own mother by her full name or job title more than he calls her 'mother'. Their relationship is COLLEGIAL at best. The Sixth raise their children in some kind of communal academic system, from what we can see in canon. Meanwhile, on the Second, it's all about that sweet sweet military command structure. On the Seventh, your parents literally try to pass super cancer onto you, and probably die of it themselves before you reach puberty. The Eighth is a monastic order where EVERYONE calls each other 'brother' or 'sister', regardless of family relationship. From everything we hear, the Tridentarius' parents are fucked-up in some way. The Ninth is....the Ninth, and on the Fourth, parents just tend to be dead.

So, like, are they really 'conversant with the idea of family'? Everything about the system John has set up discourages real family relationships. There is no socially acceptable way to share a family name with your spouse, parent, or sibling - the arithmonyms encourage you to identify with your HOUSE, not your family, and everytime characters share an arithmonym, that is considered 'weird' (see the Tridentarii). John's system demands allegiance to the EMPIRE, not any individual family units.

This dissolution of family has the side effect of also dissolving (unjust) gendered roles, but it is also VERY effective at creating the kind of existential, deep loneliness that so many of these characters experience and that John's system then uses to fuel their loyalty to him as God. It's this dissolution of family that creates the codependent structures you see in so many cav-necro relationships (Cam and Pal above all else), because WHERE ELSE but in this (fundamentally militaristic) relationship that was originally intended to serve the Empire could you find the closeness family often provides.

And, like, every time characters prioritise their chosen or blood family over the values of the Empire, it's transgressive. Any relationship that emphasises the individual - as a spouse, friend, lover, sibling, child, parent - over the 'imperial role' of cav, necro, soldier, or servant, is transgressive in the world of TLT. Magnus and Abigail are transgressive for that. Gideon and Harrow are. Even the Tridentarii have something going on that seems to go against imperial power structures, even if it's a different kind of fucked-up. Cam and Pal are such a complex case because they DO earnestly love each other outside of their role as necro and cav, but are so fundamentally alienated from healthy relationship dynamics because of their absurd upbringing that they immediately become *like that*, to the point of doing ye olde soul-merger. Still - they fundamentally hold allegiance to each other as family of some sort, whether romantic or platonic.

Which, I think, is why it's so perfect and messed-up and appropriate that Juno Zeta, Palamedes' literal mother, spends the last few minutes of her son's earthly existence as an individual quizzing We Suffer about her family structure. Rather than. Y'know. Talking to her son. Who is about to eradicate himself as an individual within the one relationship that ever transgressed that enforced, non-familial distance.

Camilla, meanwhile, does not let her fathers watch her death/ascension at all.

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), angst, fluff, fighting, physical altercation, lying, and more.

A/N: This is long as fuck and have fun on this emotional rollercoaster lol this is barely proofread btw

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P24: Too Soon?

A week. My mom would be gone on some work trip for an entire seven days.

I really don’t believe it. Part of me always thought she would lie about them being ‘work trips,’ but now I was sure. What kind of work trip didn’t have cell service?

She’s lying. I know she’s hiding something, I know deep down this probably isn’t the first time she’s done this before. But that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is that she that she left Byalen in charge to ‘watch’ me—like a fucking babysitter, since I couldn’t be trusted anymore because of the time she caught me coming home with Chris early in the morning.

Fucking hypocrite. 

Sure, I wasn’t telling the truth—but neither was she. Like mother, like daughter, I guess. 

Currently, I’m on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as my phone rests on my stomach. Chris’ voice echoes through the device. We’ve been talking for hours. I really want to just go over and see him—see my boyfriend, but I can’t. Not while I’m being fucking babysat. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna sleep over? You need to sleep.” Chris says.

God, the offer is tempting. All of me wants to say yes, walk over to his house, and cuddle up in his arms. But I can’t. I’ve slept like shit for the past three days and it keeps getting worse. I need him to hold me in order to feel okay, I wanna sleep in a house that feels like a home too. 

It’s not even just him. It’s Jimmy, it’s Matt, and hell—even Trevor. I love being around them, it makes everything feel so much easier. 

I huff, shaking my head against my pillow as I roll my eyes. “I can’t, I’m being fuckin babysat at 18 years old.” I remark. 

A wave of silence washes over for a minute. I can practically hear Chris thinking, the slight vibration of a curious hum sounding through the phone. My fingers callus over my lip, the slight graze of my nails making the muscle tingle in a way that mimics how Chris’ lips feel against my own.

Fuck. I miss that. 

It’s like he has something that I need and crave all the damn time, like he possesses some sort of energy that makes my body feel better—lighter, even. 

“Well…what if I came over there?” He offers. 

My eyebrows twist together. I lick over my lip, gnawing on the muscle as I think of his statement. 

“But…but what if we get caught?” I question. 

I could imagine it. Baylen would see Chris and all hell would break loose. 

I doubt he’d cover for me, he’d probably enthusiastically go telling my mom the second she walks back into the house. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh. “Has he really ever bothered to check in your room? I mean, even if he does, I’ll just hide in your closet or something.”

“That’s kinda gay, bro,” I joke, gnawing on my lip as I hear Chris let out a fit of chuckles that make my heart echo in my ears. 

I love being able to do that. Hearing him laugh—making him laugh, it all feels so pure. It honestly feels as intimate as him in between my legs, just in a different type of way. 

Either are addicting. It was hard to miss only one or the other, I craved both. 

I wanted to feel the euphoric relief from his touch. I wanted to laugh with him to the point where I couldn’t think of anything except how bad my stomach cramped from giggling. 

I wanted everything and all of it—I just want him. 

It’s only been a bit over a week since we made things official, but god—I could feel emotions building so rapidly, so much that they felt like they were consuming every corner of my mind.

Some of it made me sick. 

I never felt this way with Ryan, my ex. The butterflies were there, but not to this extent—not to the point where I caught myself trying to imagine he was holding me in order to fall asleep. 

“Do you want me to come over and not?” Chris remarks, pulling me back to reality as his voice echoes through my phone. 

I bite back a sore smile, humming in approval, “Yes please.” 

___

It feels good like this. Every inch of my body is content, my limbs melted in his hold as I let myself breathe in the fresh air from the cracked window in my bedroom.

His hand is combing through my hair. I hear him clear his throat, his chest rumbling as he begins to speak, “So, um…I…I’ve really missed you.” he says—again.

My lips tug into an unrelenting smile. We’ve been cuddling for hours and he’s repeated the same statement at least ten times. 

It should be annoying, but it’s not. It makes me feel warm—it makes me feel a part of the moment, like every wave of the breeze is infiltrating the pores on my skin to ground me with a profound amount of peace. 

“I missed you too.” I reply, scratching my nails over his chest as I let out another hum of contentment. His lips press against the crown of my head, a lingering kiss placed on my scalp as I feel his warm breath tickle into my hair. 

It’s dark now. We should be tired, but we’re not. A short nap had rendered us a bit sad since we wanted to watch the sunset together, but it was okay since now we got to watch the night sky illuminate with a crescent moon and thousands of stars varying in vibrance. 

I wonder who’s watching. Maybe my dad is one of those stars, maybe he gets to see me finally living after all these years without him. 

The gap of his presence still aches in my heart, but it’s not as exhausting. A tiny splinter of a gap still remains in the pumping muscle, but it seems to be soothed by the added layers of security from Chris’ arms around me. 

“What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Chris asks, combing through my hair. 

I crane my head to stare up at him, sparing a soft smile as I give a slight shrug of my shoulders. “I just…” my words float into the air, unfinished as I gulp the lump in my throat that seems to build with how his eyes are piercing into me. “-I really like this. I…really like you…being here with me. It’s just–” 

Chris leans down, pressing the tip of his nose against my own as he blinks, his eyes lashes fluttering against my own with a ticklish sensation that makes a soft sigh fall from my lips. 

“-good. I’m glad you like it because I love it. You don’t understand how much I missed holding you, really,” he whispers, his breath fanning across my lips in a way that makes my stomach swarm with warm butterflies. “-this makes me so, so, so fuckin’ happy—holding my girl, in my arms—”

“You’re never gonna stop saying that, huh?” I tease, biting on my lip as his eyes open and gleam into my own.              

Chris purses his lips, shrugging. “Nah. Getting to call you my girl?” he puffs, his eyes going with before he offers a playful smile, “-could never get old to me. Makes me feel all….” he wraps his arms tighter around me, pulling a gasp from my mouth as he pulls my chest plush against his, “-warm.” 

Ugh. He feels the same way I do—maybe even more so. 

I let myself bathe in his stare, the reassurance of his gaze making me feel like moonlight—calm, radiate, and important. Part of me doesn’t wanna speak at all, the fear of this exact moment ending making my heart pulse in my chest with a sharp sting. 

But it’s okay. 

It’s okay because I know there will always be more moments like this with him. It’s okay because there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll ever let me feel anything less than cared for. 

Words linger on the tip of my tongue, words I know I shouldn’t say—not yet, at least.

But it’s true. I love him, I really, really do. I don’t know when the realization happened. Honestly, I think it might’ve been when we first met, like some sort of cautious feeling that was warning me of destiny. 

Chris licks over his lips, his smile fading into a serious look as he swallows thickly. “I…I know we haven’t been official for very long, but—I…I feel things for you, I feel so much it hurts,” he breaths. 

My breath halts in my chest, my ears ringing as my bones seem to vibrate inside my body. He feels it too. It’s like everything about us is connected, like everything is falling into place so effortlessly it feels like magic. 

“I…” The words fall flat on the tip of my tongue, my eyes glazing over with pure emotion as I let my eyes wander over his face.

It’s so comfortable. All I can hear is our hearts beating in sync, the way my entire soul is burning for me to say it—say everything. 

“I love you.”

My eyes widened in shock. The words had rambled off my tongue so rushed, the devotion hanging in the air with an accompanied echo of his own voice. 

“Oh.” 

Our words are still in sync. We both let out a small laugh, the giggles falling quiet as we just breath in each other’s presence. 

“I guess that wasn’t as scary as I was making it out to seem, huh?” he tuts. 

I shake my head, laughing under my breath as I shrug, “-I guess so.” 

___

Chris’ POV

I keep waking up. I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s like my body doesn’t want to sleep, even though I’m very comfortable, I just wanna look at her in my arms. 

The slight sound of crickets echoing with the cool night air makes me sigh. My eyes drift over to her nightstand, her empty water bottle catching my attention. She had jugged all of it and fell back asleep within an instant a while ago, waking up a bit later, disappointed to find the bottle empty. 

Maybe I should fill it for her.

Yeah.

Slowly sliding away, I wince hearing her let out a small whimper, reaching out for me as I stand up fully. Her eyes peek open. I pet over her shoulder, cooing, “-hey, go back to sleep—’m just gonna fill your water, okay?” 

She nods hazily, her eyes falling shut with a slight scowl printed on her face. 

God, she’s pretty.

My stomach flutters with warmth as I watch her bottom lip pout slightly, her arms reaching out and tugging the pillow that was beneath my head into her hold as she greedily takes a large breath.

Fuck.

She’s barely awake and she still wants me. 

With light steps, I carefully make my way out of her room, venturing through the halls in hopes of finding the kitchen. It doesn’t take long. I walk into the tiled room, the cold flooring against my feet making me miss the warmth of her touch. 

“Ugh,” I sigh, walking over to the sink and filling the bottle, trying to tilt the object to create as little noise as possible. 

My lips roll together, my mind racing with thoughts as I reminisce on earlier. I was so scared to tell her that I loved her, I was scared it was too soon, too much, or purely insane to feel so strongly when we only made things official a bit ago. 

But she said it at the same time, and somehow that was better than her saying it back. 

“Who the fuck?” 

My eyes go wide as I screw on the cap to the water bottle. I turn around, finding her brother with messy hair and sunken eyes staring at me with a scowl. 

Fuck. 

“Shit.” I mutter, squinting my eyes shut in hopes I’m just having a nightmare. 

But no. 

I open my eyes, he’s still there—closer. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he interrogates, his shoulders broadening as his nostrils flare with an angry huff. 

“I, uh,” I look towards the hallway, mentally cursing myself as I think of her getting in trouble because of me, “-I’m Chris. I’m…uh—”

I don’t get the chance to finish. Baylen’s eyes shift to the bottle in my hand, his tongue prodding on the side of his cheek as he shakes his head disappointedly. 

“What? Are you her boyfriend or something?” he asks, lips tugged into a straight line. 

Gulping, I nod. Surely me being her boyfriend is better than being a stranger breaking in, right?

“No.”

The fuck?

My brows furrow together at his statement. Baylen seems to analyze the confusion on my face, shrugging as he repeats the words with a more tense voice, “-I said no.” 

“What? No? Hate to break it to you, but that’s not really your decision.” I point. 

No wonder she can’t get along with him, he’s a prick. He barely acts like a brother, yet he’s trying to dictate our relationship? 

Fuck that. I’ve done more for her than he has with a fraction of the time. 

I mean, how hard is it to be there for his sister? 

After losing my mom and Nick, no matter how distant or hurt I was, I still hugged Matt when he needed it. I might’ve grown distant, but I never grew heartless.

Baylen couldn’t even suck it up to play video games with her. 

His face contorts with distaste. I let out an angry sigh, my eyes rolling while he let out a scoff. 

“She’s my sister. I’m the one who gets to look out for her, not some guy she’s known for what, a couple months?” he remarks, a slight snort echoing at the end of his sentence. 

His words seem to make my heart pummel against my chest with rage, the statement making my blood boil as I lick over my teeth. “Look out for her? You can’t even sit down and play a video game with her for more than five minutes. Just…” I shake my head, watching as his face shifts into shock before the fury in his eyes starts to become more intense, “-it’s whatever.” 

Baylen clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, shaking his head, “Shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

My nose twitches, my eyes squint as my jaw becomes tight. Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to? 

“Oh, I have no idea what I’m talking about?” I huff, my brows lifting as I let out a dry laugh, “-no, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re an awful fucking brother, you have no say in anything when you’re treating her like…like a fucking dick.” 

His jaw clicks. Baylen stalks forward, his hands twisting in the collar of my shirt as he yanks me to the side, pushing me against the wall as his eyes glare into me, the anger radiating off of him making the ache in my head from the impact seem less apparent as I drop the water bottle and clutch onto his wrists, trying to yank him off of me. The loud clunk of the bottle hitting the ground makes me wince. I huff at his unrelenting grip, taking a heavy sigh as I try to calm the pulsing anger in my body. 

I can’t hit him. She cares about him—even if he hurts her, I know that would make her upset.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeats, his voice dangerously low as he pushes me harder against the wall.  

“You abandoned her when she needed you most. What kind of brother does that?” I spit, the emotions in my voice leaking with a bit of hypocrisy. 

I wasn’t always the best when it came to comforting Matt after my mom and Nick had died, but at least I came around. Someone had to knock some sense into me—that someone being my dad, but it didn’t seem like anyone was ever gonna set Baylen straight. 

“You—you don’t get it. Stop. Just—just shut up,” he yells, shoving me even harder as I feel the back of my head pulse. 

“I do. Just…ow, fuck—” I hiss, the pain becoming evidentally apparent as my skull aches, “-I lost some of my family. Someone had to knock some sense into me. She—she’s your sister, you both lost your dad, she’s hurting and—shit.” 

It fucking hurts. The back of my head is pulsing, an echoing pain bursting through my forehead as I try to move, only to have him shove me harder. 

“I didn’t lose anyone. You…you don’t understand.” 

My eyes peak open, curiosity accompanied by pain as I hear a slight crack in his voice. His face drops with sadness, the anger fleeting into some sort of sullen emotion as he swallows thickly. 

“You…you don’t understand. That man—he’s not my father. He’s a sick excuse of a man that traumatized her and she doesn’t even fucking remember,” he spits. 

“I…what?” I breathe, my chest tightening as Baylen loosens his grip around the collar of my shirt, his lower lip wobbling. 

“I’m never supposed to tell her. I…I have to hear her mourn a man who would…who’s the reason she’d have to sneak into my room—he’s the reason she could never make it through the night without having an accident. Something was wrong—everything was wrong.” 

“What—what’re you saying?” I ask, my mouth falling open as I let my hands fall from his wrists. 

Baylen’s eyes sink with sadness, his cheek hollowing as he gulps. “She wasn’t potty trained for a long time. At first, I didn’t get it. But…but…he was touching her, her body was showing all the signs of sexual assault, but I was just a kid, I didn’t…I—by the time I understood what had happened, it—it was too late. Now I have to hear her mourn a man who is the reason I feel—he’s…he’s the reason I can’t comfort her, he’s the reason I can’t look at her,” he says, his head tilting as his face scrunches with pain;

“He’s the reason I hate myself—the reason I can’t let myself get close to her without seeing how much of a failure I am.” 

Oh.

[jeroidk]

Rereading black butler, I love all these little instances that are re-framed now that we know O!Ciel had a brother.

Like in chapter 17, prince Soma is passionately expressing his grief over losing Mina, and Ciel says this:

He calls it a "trivial occurrence" and says that it doesn't amount to much.

And the first time you read the manga, you think this makes sense because Ciel is always downplaying how much he is grieving the loss of his family and he's basically always in denial of his own feelings.

But reading it now, I realized that when Soma was talking about Mina, he compared her to an "older sister":

"[He] was always by my side"

"[He] was cheerful, beautiful and taught me many things"

"I was never lonely if [Ciel] was with me"

"I loved [Ciel] and [Ciel] loved me"

The image that Soma is painting about Mina is awfully familiar to O!Ciel. Even though I don't have the screenshots to back up this claim, I'm 100% sure those are all things O!Ciel has said about R!Ciel too.

It's an incredibly personal and intimate pain that O!Ciel also carries but keeps hidden from the world, so now I wonder if his very hostile reaction was just denial + trying to convince himself that "it doesn't amount to much" or if he had a somewhat "selfish" reaction to Soma's pain because Soma asked him if he could "understand the pain of being forcibly separated from his older sister figure", not knowing that, in a way, O!Ciel had it worse because at least Mina is still alive.

O!Ciel could very well be saying that Soma's pain is a trivial occurence because he still has a chance to find Mina and take her home with him, while O!Ciel doesn't have that privilege anymore.

But whether is O!Ciel being in denial about his feelings or if he was being dismissive because he thinks he had it worse, it's clear he felt bad about his reaction because inmediately after he tries to engage with Soma by playing cards, lol ♡

(Also the "I'm not doing this for you, I just don't have anything better to do" speech O!Ciel always gives is so telling of the way he approaches just about everything. It's the same speech he says to others and to himself regarding his quest for vengeance, he truly leaves in denial land).

[dailyhtfboards]

Day 109

Today’s board is:

Ya know Handy looks really weird in this board, I don’t know why they drew him like that /silly

(From TV episode 12C Junk in the Trunk)

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

After reading your comments now I'm even more excited to read the epilogue!

She's a real sweetheart, right? Writing someone who wants to work with little kids, I wanted to write a young woman who isn't without her flaws, but really embodied that kind, nurturing nature that makes for great elementary school teachers. 💗 (And the kind of inner goodness that I think Dean would find endearing too.)

I love hunter!readers, but the soft!readers really have my heart. Not that a hunter!reader couldn't be soft per say, but I just love how cutesy she is.

Buuuuut maybe he should've asked Dean if it was really ok if he pursued the reader before he stepped in. Maybe as his friend, he should've asked Dean what the hell he was doing with Lisa when the reader really needed him right now lol. Maybe that would've been the wake-up call Dean needed to get his shit together and realize he didn't really truly love Lisa. 🤔

You're so right. Benny should have asked more questions!! Benny should have had the talk with Dean and if he is Dean's best friend he should have known. It kinda makes it sadder though. But I'll bet the epilogue kinda explains that a bit too 🥰 But at the same time yes, Benny was a good guy for stepping up and stepping in.

Ahaha yes!! I knew you would catch that! Oh yeah, but that's the kind of mistake a man not used to little kids would make, I feel like 🤣

It really is. I bet that Ben/Soldier Boy would let his kid watch something too soon and then live with the consequences when he can't have sex with the reader for a month because the kid sleeps in the bed with them 🤣

I knowwww I'm sorry I almost killed Dean, but this is the first of many wake-up calls for both Dean and reader. 😭😭

Don't be sorry, near-death experiences that make people realize they love one another is the kind of angst I live for LOL

I tried to do something different with this story and make it feel more realistic, with no real "villain," except that we can hurt the people we love the most unintentionally with our actions and inaction. What we say, and sometimes more importantly, what we don't say.

It really was wonderfully realistic- all the emotions all the drama, it was beautiful! I also think that it resonates more that way- making it about the internal and external struggle with relationships rather than some big-bad to fight. Because sometimes the big-bad is the little voice inside that makes you push everything down or sometimes the big-bad is you? If that makes sense lol.

Oh you saw that, huh? 😂 Yeah, I think you remember that turned into a fun "anonymous" ask in my inbox asking why I was so "defensive" when people criticized my work. I typically have thick skin and was ready to forget the comments entirely, but when that "ask" came in it really annoyed me, not gonna lie. lol I probably should've just ignored the inbox message and deleted it, rather than spend more time and energy on replying to someone whose mind likely isn't going to be changed on how they talk to writers, regardless. 😂 I get that this AU story was "different," and messy with these relationships, but that was kind of the point. Bless you though for your thoughtful and heartwarming feedback regarding the Lisa and Benny storylines! 💗💗💗

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that happened when I was in my two weeks off period 😅 But I don't think it's so much as you not having 'thick skin' or being 'defensive'- I see it more as you being open to the criticism, but them not giving you anything constructive. If someone says 'oh that's stupid' but then don't tell you why, it becomes more about the writer than what they wrote.

But oh yeah no. The fact that they felt the need to also send in an ask criticizing you even more is just uncalled for. I don't blame you for answering it, it would have annoyed me too- especially because lately I feel like the meaner anons think they're helping writers by being super rude?

Yes exactly! The AU is "different!" It's more about the relationships and drama and miscommunication! (slightly mad at you for that last one jkjk 🤣) AU's are supposed to be different, that's literally it- alternate universe. Which is why they didn't like it, because they didn't understand it. 😬

But you're welcome! I really did enjoy it and I'll bet the epilogue is going to be amazing! 💗

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. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

So please let me know what you thought! 😘

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

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

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Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdeanwrites @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @redhoodieone

[xervoxs]

safe and secure

wc: 0,5k

cw: established relationship, angst (sort of?), happy ending

P. S. Want to apologise in advance for any grammar errors, ect. English is not my first language, and it's my first time writing something on it (I definitely had to use dictionary, more than once, lol.)

Everything felt like a dream.

The distant wailing of police sirens barely reached your ears, the whole world seemed to fade away.

"No...please..."

Choking on tears, you begged the man lying on the wooden floor to open his eyes. His hold on your hand began to loosen slowly, yet your worn-out mind refused to accept the reality of it all.

—

The recent case has been taking longer than usual. The unsub - white male, in his middle thirties - was pulling strings, like a puppeteer, subduing the victims to his will. He even went as far as to leave little cards - with mocking comments written on them - on the latest crime scenes.

To put it shortly, the days were long and the team was exhausted.

On one of these days, when their faith in resolving the case was especially low, new evidence emerged. A little clue suddenly shed light on the entire picture. Just like that, the puzzle was solved.

Within an hour, the team was in the countryside, not far away from the city.

From a distance, a two-story building appeared abandoned, yet the team approached it cautiously, trying not to draw the attention of whoever might be inside.

"FBI, open up!"

Aaron's voice echoed in your ears, intense and demanding. No answer followed. Within a moment, the door was down, Hotch was the first one to enter.

Gunshot.

The next few minutes seemed to have gone in a blur. Screams. More gunshots. The wild ramming of your heart against your ribcage.

You found yourself down on your knees, by the body of the man you loved so dearly. Blood rapidly spread across the white material of his shirt.

"Aaron...please...no..."

Your hand found his and clasped it tightly, desperately clinging to the last thread of hope.

Muttering something incoherent under his breath, the man gave your hand a weak squeeze. The blurry gaze of his honey-coloured eyes found yours, making your throat tighten. Leaving a hot trail behind, tears streamed down your cheeks.

Unable to form a proper sentence, all you could do was beg. Beg the higher powers of our world to save the life of the man, who's smile was enough to brighten the darkest of the days.

His hold on your hand loosened slowly.

The whole world seemed to fade away.

Everything felt like a dream. Because it was one.

"Honey,"

Aaron's voice, soft and gentle - yet with an underlying concern to it - pulled you out of the nightmare. His warm gaze - full of love and life - met yours.

The sight of confusion and pain written all over your tear-stained stained face ached the man's heart.

"it's alright."

He said, cupping the side of your face and brushing a tear away with a pad of his thumb.

The warmth of his touch was soothing and grounding, slowly, but surely bringing you back to reality.

"It was just a dream, a bad dream..."

He wondered what could possibly get you so upset, but kept all the questions to himself. At the moment , his top priority was to make sure you were alright and to let you know that you were safe and secure in his arms.

[slapthosewilliessilly]

Boyfriend Josh Washington whooo…

If you happen to know the original poster of this pic let me know! I found it on Pinterest and I’d love to give proper credit!!

No real warnings other than Josh being a cutie patootie! Twilight mention because I’m keeping it real lmao. Fluffy and sweet boyfriend Josh x fem reader, enjoy!

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

Always makes sure that you feel welcome and comfortable no matter where you guys go but ESPECIALLY at parties!!

If you do feel pressured or uncomfortable Josh is the first to know and the first to get you out of there. Always takes the blame if people say something about leaving so soon.

Once you told Josh you felt uncomfortable around some tipsy loser at Mike’s friend’s party. Josh ended up getting in an argument and was ready punch that fucking idiot for you. After you two left and were in the car he said he didn’t regret it and he was just happy you were so open with him about how you felt.

If you’re the kind of girl that loves to get your nails done he always pays for your nails, no if’s and’s or but’s.

God forbid you ever say another man paid for your nails.

He will drive you to the salon and is completely willing to drop a hundred and fifty bucks MINIMUM to get those nails taken off and replaced with something prettier, maybe get his initials on them somewhere,

“Can never be too careful.” Josh will say as he watches them paint your nails with a grin.

Will even get his nails trimmed up while you get yours done, if you ask he will absolutely get a couple of his nails done to match whatever theme you have picked for your nails.

Takes pictures of your freshly manicured hands together and posts it on his instagram- every. single. time. That you two get your nails done together.

Definitely asks you to lie and tell Mike, Chris, or Matt and say he can’t go hang out with them because he just doesn’t want to.

Like don’t get Josh wrong- they are his dude friends and he likes hanging out with them but

“Why would I go hang out with them when you and I can just go out?”

He says as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing actually ever.

Grabs his keys and takes you to wherever is open that you want to go to as a ‘perfect girlfriend treat’ in return for lying for him.

Literally showers you in gifts.

Anything and everything you’ve shown interest in Josh shows genuinely no hesitation in getting for you.

Because it’s for you. That’s all he cares about. Plus he has the money- why wouldn’t he?

Looked at a hot pink Juicy Couture purse for two seconds too long at the mall? Boom- he already emptied out your other purse and organized it all in your new juicy couture purse with a new matching wallet! You’re welcome btw.

Mention how you thought candle making would be an interesting hobby to get into?

You’re coming over, he has three different kinds of wax ready along with twelve different smells and several packs of wicks all at different lengths ready for you to pick from.

The only payment he ever asks for in return is some extra kisses and maybe some back scratches later lol

Comfort. King. 👑

Had a bad day?

Not under Josh’s watch.

You and him, his place, his room.

Twilight movie marathon.

DoorDash, drinks, a sweet treat.

Buys some of those nice spa face masks for you both to have on as you lay in his bed together.

Will even braid or fix your hair for you if you ask him nicely- trust me he definitely can and will help you with your hair. Who do you think helped the twins a million times when they were younger?

You being his favorite photography subject.

He genuinely can’t keep a camera off of you. You’re too beautiful.

Even on bad days when you feel unattractive, Josh is always quick to correct you when you talk bad about yourself.

“God I’m just so fucking bloated today-“

“Watch it- that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.” He’ll reply.

Has to post a picture of you pretty much every day. If he doesn’t post his daily favorite selfie of you onto his story then he definitely has a huge photo dump one day of the month where he posts at least his top 10 favorite pictures he got of you or with you during that month.

In general I genuinely feel like Josh would be one of the sweetest if not the most sweetest boyfriends ever who loves you unapologetically in his entirety. 🩷

[royal-confessions]

“What did William do to people, seriously? Why they hate him do much? All he’s doing is what his mother wanted for him: to be able to do his duty and have love at the same time. If you watch the entirety of the Bashir interview, that’s the bottomline of what Diana said he wanted for William, particularly. Also, Diana also talked about the whole bringing the monarchy closer to the public thing, which I think William is not failing to do. I kinda think he’s misunderstood by people. (Well, not really by the people because he still polls high but by social media I guess).” - Submitted by Anonymous

“Everything William does people have a problem with. Charles has so much more celebrity friends and is always wanting to be seen with celebrities, yet it’s William who gets called “celebrity wannabe”. Fyi, he has the healthiest boundary with celebrity among the three of them (him, Charles, and Harry).” - Submitted by Anonymous

“I know he’s the epitome of male white privilege and he will be King so I can’t feel bad for him, but my heart kinda breaks for Prince William. The way people misunderstand his intentions for wanting people to stop using his mother’s name. He just sees his mother as his mother, as a human being, and not the commodified character that exists in the realm of media and entertainment and pop culture. Is there anything wrong with that? When in his mind it’s the insatiable hunger for anything Diana that is what he thinks lead to her death. The way these people are the ones driving a wedge between him and the memory of his mother, saying she took his genes back or whatever when the reality of the situation is that he just lost his hair like many men do and it has nothing to do with his moral character. Are we supposed to think all men who lose their hair are bad and that only perfect looking people are good? It’s so superficial. And he’s not even that ugly. He just went from looking ethereal to looking like an average human being lol. The way Meghan has completely used his mother’s story to further her agenda and people refuse to see that he was a central figure in Diana’s story. He literally was the baby in Diana’s womb when she wanted to throw herself down the stairs. How it must have been for him growing up and knowing that? It must have had some sort of effect because the fact of the matter is he was the person who told Harry he might need help with his anxiety. Also, the fact that he married a woman with such empathy like Catherine that she was the one who saw the importance of mental health as an underlying theme in all of their different areas of work. And the way people just look at them as mental health deniers because they think they refused Meghan help when Harry himself has admitted he never told them because he was ashamed. And the way people continue to use the pop culture commodified image of Diana to try and canonize Harry and Meghan as saints as well for doing things that are not even as impactful as the work Diana had done. It’s all just done for the sake of continuing narratives in this soap opera. Anyway, whatever.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“Do people even think about William’s mental health in all of this? I feel worried about him. There’s just a sadness in his eyes these days that wasn’t there before. And this is why I can’t get over Harry and Meghan’s selfishness. They can fight for their right to be happy and free, but that’s not all they want. They could’ve escaped royal life without hurting anyone, but they’ve left such a mess. Lies and exaggerations and self-serving narratives. They aren’t simply fighting for their happiness, they want to ruin William and Catherine. Harry will not stop until he’s taken everything from William and William is completely broken.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“The way William is viewed as petty or a bully for all the imaginary ways they think he retaliates against Harry (because Harry plants ideas in people’s with all his insinuations). First of all, after what some people have said about him and Kate while she was battling cancer, I can’t call it petty anymore if William is in whatever way actually retaliating. Does William not have his own mental health? Does William not have his own trauma? Does William not have his own children he has to take care of? Does William not have his own wife who battled cancer while people salivated at the thought of “history repeating itself”?” - Submitted by Anonymous

[banana-can-do-art]

Azul would probably have such a hard time walking in heels at least at first tho since he’s from the sea and he’s already constantly complaining about how hard it is for him to fly, and even in the stitches event my boi still can’t surf lol. Also yes Azul is such a boyfaure. I feel like the list of boyfailures in this series goes to Deuce, Idia, Azul, and like maaaaybeee Malleus and/or Sebek, and maaaaybeeer Kalim. Also though on the note of wearing heels I cannot judge at all. Like one time I had to wear not even heels but more of a wedge but they still feel like heels to me even though others (cough my mom who made me wear them) would beg to differ lol. And I had to wear them while standing for like an hour and when I tell u that starts to make your feet hurt like crazy. I can’t I can’t it’s painful. And that was just wedges I don’t understand how some of the characters in the game are wearing the highest heels known to man kind all day everyday like it’s nothing. Like Vil and Riddle pls calm tf down I beg you please wear slippers for once in your lives I beg you, you’re gonna break your toes! There is at the very least Riddle’s Halloween vignette where him and Vil talk about how back in Riddle’s first year he was in pain from the heels and Vil offered him a bandaid and then Riddle showed back up to replace it lol and Vil was like wow that boi is gonna crash and burn. And it’s like excuse me, sir? You’re right don’t get me wrong, but have you looked in the mirror recently?! I actually think it’s really interesting to think about how Riddle and Vil are actually really similar characters who had similar values enforced into them, but by different people. However, Vil is much better at masking his rage and appearing professional at all times and thus from the beginning most of his dorm has a deep respect for him. While on the other hand, Riddle’s emotional regulation skills are in the fiery pits of hell and he cannot manage his temper and looses it on the daily. So his dormates at the beginning have less respect for him and view him more so as an immature kid than a proper leader. But as he grows as a person and goes through his character arc throughout the story you can see his dormates, even Ace beginning to respect him, and I think that’s really great. Vil on the other hand completely shatters his pitch perfect image with his overblot and he has to accept that now the SDC participants know that he isn’t always as cool as he puts on, but that’s also good for him since while it would be bad to become the same way arc one Riddle was, Vil does seem to feel more comfortable with expressing his feeling around Rook and Epel as opposed to always maintaining his image as the cool campus celebrity who always looks perfect, although he certainly still does his fair share of that. It’s nice to see the gradual change in characters over the course of the game, no one does a complete personality shift post overblot. Although I still would love to see a bit more noticeable character development from some of these guys. Although it’s also fun to pick things apart by reading in between the lines.

Yeah as much as I love the goofy vingettes, like wouldn’t it be wild if they dropped a super serious one and it turned out to be like Jack’s or something.

Omg Ruggie needs to have an event that’s like where’s Waldo but it’s where’s Mr. Bucchi. The guy straight up pulled the left to get milk moves. At the very least tho I neeeeeed a canon Ruggie’s grandma design and I need to see what she’s like. Epel’s Meemaw was already such an icon, I need them to meet each other. Omg could you imagine Ruggie’s grandma and Epel’s Meemaw hitting it off and becoming besties. I could see that tbh. I mean while yes Ruggie’s financial situation in his town is much worse than Epel’s, they still do both come from small and lesser known areas and I feel like they could totally bond over that. They’d have cooky old lady chats. In a similar boat I know that Maleanor isn’t even alive but like I need her and Georgina to meet, and no it’s not just because I’m a simp, but daaaamn, but that’s not the only reason why okay. Like I just think they could have cool chats about being evil looking mothers and running very totally not whatsoever kingdoms/ the actual fish mafia

DJ RIDDLE DJ RIDDLE DJ RIDDLE

What I need to know tho is who Neigie’s number one fan is. Like Rook is the number two fan, which implies that there must be one person who is an even bigger fan. I asked my friend what he thought and he said maybe it was Vil out of spite to spy on him or something. Idk, it could also be Neige himself, self love lets go king, or it could be one of the dwarves, idk, but I’m so so so so curious. It would be rlly funny if we actually got some kind of plot twist reveal about it later lol.

You should watch inside job it’s pretty funny. Also Alex Hirsch creator of gravity falls and voice actor of Hooty and King from the owl house worked on it and you can very much tell through the style of comedy sooooo

Guys, I need to know who the housewarden before Riddle was. Like what freak of nature was so off the walls crazy, and so unbelievably lax with the rules that even though the students are upset with how strict Riddle is, they still don’t want that guy back or talk about how they wish he could be in charge again. Like who was this menace to society?

[davrinsleftpectoral]

A Word With Friends/Wip Wednesday

Thank you @jenn2d2 for the word of the week, and @hedwigoprah for making a tag game that makes me really stretch my brain muscles. Not gonna lie, this one hurt lol.

This week's word is Perspicacious

Definition:

Quick in noticing, understanding, or judging things accurately or of acute mental vision or discernment.

I took the easy way out this week. I won’t do it every week (probably). Also put it in this WIP of my Chuck E. Cheese AU. So enjoy a snippet of Welcome to Nug E Cheese. This is still part of the first chapter. If you’d like to read the beginning, you can find it here

Some people like to torture Lucanis with angst and feelings. I like to torture him with bad coffee and the horrors of a minimum wage job.

==

“Sorry, don’t mind me.  I’m just gonna get old Joe going,” he explained.

“Good idea. I need some coffee after that meeting,’ Neve agreed.

Turvi approached old Joe. The machine was ancient. 15? 20? Years old. No one was really sure. They suspected it had been left behind by the original construction crew when then store was built.  He took a deep breath and began The Routine.

“Good morning Old Joe,” he began.

Lucanis looked up from his papers and didn’t say anything, simply raised one eyebrow.

Neve smirked at him, “Trust the process. Old Joe likes Rook the best.”

Turvi then turned on the machine. Turned off the machine. Unplugged it, counted to 15, and plugged it back in. He filled the water reservoir, put in a new filter, and grabbed the budget sized can of store brand ground coffee. When Lucanis spotted the giant can, Turvi thought he heard a small sound of distress. Once the coffee was in, he closed the the lid and wrapped a big rubber band around it to keep it shut. 

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Lucanis finally chimed in. “What is the rubber band for?”

Turvi grinned. “It’s like a seat belt, you gotta strap in, it’s for everyone’s safety.” Next he hit the start button, and after that he banged on the top 3 times. “You see Neve, the reason that Harding’s coffee isn’t as good, is that she only hits Joe twice because she feels bad. He needs 3 to really get going.”

Old joe wheezed and started to gurgle and bubble. “When you hear the wheeze, you know it’s going to be a good pot.” He turned around, hands on his hips with satisfaction, grinning at Neve. Lucanis didn’t say anything for a moment. The man’s eyebrows were furrowed deeply though.

Lucanis handed his completed paperwork over to Neve. She flipped through the pages, skimming over his writing. “Well, this looks good. I’ll go see if we have any spare polos in storage, but I’ll have to order you more. We weren’t expecting to get anyone new today,” Neve said by way of apology. 

“If you can’t find one, he can wear mine,” Turvi offered. “I can just wear the Gus suit for the day, instead of switching in and out.”

Lucanis’ eyes widened, but he stayed silent. Neve must have clocked the face he made, because she chuckled. “Keep your clothes on Rook. He can wear his own shirt if we dont have one for him.” 

Old Joe started beeping. Turvi stepped to the side and dramatically bowed and swept his arm out towards Neve. “Ladies first.”

Neve rolled her eyes at him as she got up to grab a mug. She poured the steaming liquid and made a little hum of displeasure. “Seems this batch is a little thick. Oh well. Better luck next time Rook.”

“Thick?” Lucanis squeaked, visibly paling. “And you guys actually drink that?” He asked incredulously, as Neve took a sip. 

“Yes, very perspicacious of you,” Turvi replied. 

Neve chuckled hand on hip, “Well look who’s putting that word of the day calendar in the break room to good use,” Neve said with a laugh. 

“I try,” he confirmed with an answering smirk. 

Turning to Lucanis she shrugged, “It tastes fine, and it does the job. We work in a Nug E Cheese. We can’t afford to be picky,” she shrugged. “Now let me go see about that shirt.”

==

The Routine is based on actual ancient food service machinery. Not the exact routine. But my sister works at an ice cream stand that has very very old machines. You do need to do weird stuff to make them work properly, and there is an actual rubber band holding parts together. Also there is way too much smirking going on. It’s still a wip okay?

Thank you @serensama for the tag. No pressure tagging @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @biowaredisasterbisexual @seaglassmelody @thedissonantverses @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @woundedsoul12

[fluffypinkhedgehog]

❀⊱A Beautiful View⊰❀ ⤷Sonic the Hedgehog | sfw, fluff, one-shot, request

summary: Sonic takes you snowboarding for the first time.

warnings: None! All Fluff!

a/n: Sorry for the delay! Depression hit hard lol. I made this one first person because I was wanting to try something, hope you like it!

I sit on the seat of the ski lift, my feet dangling over a good 100ft drop. I’m shivering, though not from the cold. From the absolute fear that I have for my life. I absolutely, positively, hate heights. Sonic sits next to me, his elbow propped up on an arm rest as he stares at me, a teasing smile on his face. God, I’m so angry at him. Why did he persuade me to do this? How did he persuade me to do this? I’m a beginner, I shouldn’t be going straight to the top of the mountain!

I gripped Sonic’s hand tightly, fear encompassing my thoughts as I stare at the drop below us, slowly decreasing as we near the end of the line. The end of my life. I couldn’t blink. Sonic squeezed his hand back, making me flinch. I almost forgot that he was there. I looked over at him, my neck refusing to turn but I forced it to anyway. It’s an unpleasant feeling.

As I made contact with Sonic’s eyes I realized that his smile wasn’t teasing. It was worried. Oh, now I felt bad.

“We’re almost to the top,” Sonic said, breaking the silence. “Don’t worry.”

I blinked. It had been a while since I blinked. Ouch, dry eyes hurt. I gave Sonic an annoyed look, my eyebrows scrunching together as I frowned at him. “This is your fault, y’know!”

Sonic laughed. I could tell that he tried to keep it in with how his lips pressed together but it was an immediate failure. He laughed loudly, tears forming in his eyes. How was this that funny to him?! I scoffed and turned away, hot anger replacing the fear in my chest.

“How could I let you take me up here?” I vented. “Why did I even agree— ugh!” I cut myself off as Sonic continued to laugh. He was covering his mouth, trying his best to keep it in as best as he could. “How could you be laughing in this situation?!”

I turned towards him, parting our hands from their hold so I could use him as a punching bag. He defended himself, using his hands as a shield against my weak hits.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Sonic says in between his laughter. “WOAH—!” He shouts as the entire lift shakes, my own voice coming out as a shrill shriek. He grabs onto my shoulders tightly and I instinctively hug his torso as we wait for the lift to calm down.

“Careful, there! Don’t want you to fall off,” Sonic says in a light tone. I look up at him, my brows furrowed and my cheeks puffed out in anger and annoyance. “C’mon,” he chuckles, “don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” I ask, turning away with a huff and crossing my arms as I lean back in my seat, knowing fully well I was giving him a look.

“You always give me a look whenever you’re frustrated or annoyed,” Sonic says, indulging in my feigned ignorance with a teasing smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” I responded, keeping the act going.

“Whatever you say, my dear,” Sonic continues. Shit, he used that pet name. My face flushes red. He knows that I’m not used to pet names!

“Sonic!” I protested, but he just grabbed my hand with a laugh before sliding off the ski lift onto the ground.

Oh. We’re here. I tense up.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Sonic says in a soothing voice. He helps me off the ski lift before I’m taken back around to the bottom of the mountain in an almost never ending loop.I hold onto Sonic’s hands, our fingers intertwining. My face is still flushed red from the pet name. He smiles at me, one of his more brighter and innocent smiles. I feel like I’m falling for him all over again with just that smile.

Without warning, Sonic kissed my forehead with a chuckle before leading me forward. As we walked hand in hand I brushed my free hand against my forehead where he kissed me. I hide my face in the collar of my jacket, embarrassed.

As we reached the start of the ski path my eyes widened. I could see a beautiful scenery for miles ahead, all painted with a pinkish purple sky from the rising sun. I was frozen in my spot as I stared. Was this why Sonic wanted me to come up here? Now that I think about it he didn’t specifically say he wanted me to snowboard down the mountain.

I immediately feel guilty about my actions earlier. I turn to Sonic, opening my mouth to apologize, only to see him silently admiring the same view with a content smile on his face. I stared at him. Yeah, I really am falling for this goofball all over again.

Sonic noticed me staring, looking back at me with a chuckle before speaking: “Like what you see?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

I push Sonic away with a grunt, knocking him over and onto the snow.

“You wish!” I say before playfully sticking my tongue out at him.

“Oh, to only wish that my girlfriend would look at me like the morning sun on the mountain tops—“ Sonic said dramatically, only to be rudely interrupted by a snowball in the face.

“Oh, my, I wonder where that came from?” I say, feigning surprise as I walk away. “It seems like there’s a fiend throwing snowballs around!” I giggle to myself as I turn to face him, walking backwards. The look on Sonic’s bewildered face is priceless. Sonic gets up, a snowball in hand ready to be thrown at me, before he stops and drops the snowball, rushing forward.

“Wait— stop!”

My leg hits the trunk of a fallen tree, catching me off guard. I lose my balance and almost fall over it but Sonic was there before I could. He held my arm as I held his gaze, slowly setting me down on top of the trunk. I looked behind me, a bit afraid that I almost tumbled down the mountain. Thankfully, it was just regular snow instead of another long drop.

I looked behind back over at Sonic, who held my hand like his life depended on it. I raised my brow in confusion. “You could have just let me trip and laughed.”

“I could have… but why should I let a royal princess fall in the snow?”

Gosh, he can be smooth sometimes.

I decide to quickly change the subject, else Sonic will subject me to a face of burning coals

“So…” I start, retracting my hand from his, “Is this why you wanted me to come up here?” I gestured to the gorgeous view. Sonic scratched the back of his head, seeming shy, before swiping his index finger under his nose.

“Yeah. I wasn’t gonna actually make you snowboard down the entire mountain. That’d be cruel.”

“Really?”

“Of course! Unless.. you want to?” I stuck my tongue back out at him, my cheeks puffed out in annoyance. “Okay, okay!” Sonic raised his arms in defense. “Got it, no snowboarding down this slope.”

Sonic sat down next to me on the log. Silence grew between us, but it was comfortable. His arm slinked across my back, holding onto me tightly. I looked up to him, getting a thought in my head.

Should I act on it? I think I should.

I turn towards Sonic, attracting his attention, and cup his face in my hands. I’m a bit nervous, I’m not usually the one who initiates these things. Sonic looks at me quizzically, but before he figures out what I’m planning I should lean in… Sonic held my face in his hands.

Damn it, he figured it out.

Taking the lead, Sonic lightly kissed me on the lips. It was warm. It left a light tingling sensation.

I’ll never get used to this.

Tag List: @affinitytales, @boogiemansbitch

[koolades-world]

good news and bad news

good news: just took my last final (managed to get a 94 on it!) and i looked really cute while doing it! bad news: I accidentally gave myself blisters on my feet from power walking in shoes that are not meant to be power walked in lol

hence, the inspo for this drabble!

It wasn’t hard to get the brothers to give you the princess treatment. All it took was the hint of anything but being content. While it could get obnoxious at times, you milked it when you could.

After a day out with Asmo at what was essentially Coachella, you quickly discovered the source of your foot pains. Several blisters had formed mostly on your heels as you hadn’t had time to break in your shoes before the event. When Asmo discovered you inspecting the damage, he began acting what you’d consider fairly dramatic.

At first, you tried to calm him down as he presented you with an armful of products to speed up the recovery process. However, once you realized you’d likely be able to get an extension on the project you’d been procrastinating on, you began to play it up.

As soon as you got home, almost every brother was upon you. It had been all Asmo could talk about on the phone to Mammon, who told everyone else. Mammon was quick to sweep you off your feet, and he looked like he was holding back tears. Beel leant over his shoulder, your bags in his hands and concern written all over his face. The two absent brothers, Levi and Belphie, were already in your room, making it comfortable. Lucifer and Satan tried their hardest to seem the least concerned, but you could tell they would be the most so until they got a good look at you for themselves.

Even though something as simple as blisters didn’t stop you from doing most of your day to day tasks, it wasn’t hard to convince the brothers to treat you like royalty. You needed to get to dinner? All you had to do was ask Mammon or Beel, and they’d carry you there. You wanted to change the channel, but the remote was just out of your reach? Satan, who was seated next to you at all time, would just pass it to you. You found yourself tossing and turning while trying to fall asleep? Say no more, Belphie has the perfect solution, no matter what. You could forget about opening doors for yourself, or doing your own hair. The brothers would be willing to do whatever you needed, and more.

You knew that some of them knew you were playing it up, but you were their soft spot, after all.

[epicleovilanon]

Second Year Squad Hangover Fic

so. so i actually have a new fic in the works (and yes, i AM working on the who framed kalim al asim fic still, dw!!) but this one is a bit more focused on the second year squad.

i just love a good second year squad centric fic lol. i love a fic with a big cast in general, i discovered this when i fell in love with @the-nameless-ramekin absolute wonder of a fic, strawberry tarts and other love languages, it has become my favorite fic and was what ultimately inspired me to write a second year squad fic.

but my fic, so far, has two parts, though it might end up being three, because its a hangover trilogy au!! i just think a hangover fic with the second years would be funny af

Part 1

no one’s getting married in this part--because they're still technically students at NRC. It’s the night before their graduation--or well, two nights before their graduation. so the weekend maybe? and they're at the twst equivalent of Vegas or smth

they do indeed get roofied

ITS NOT AN ACCIDENT THOUGH THEY GET ROOFIED BECAUSE JADE SWITCHED IT ON PURPOSE BECAUSE HE THRIVES OFF CHAOS

they lose silver

(see, it had to be Silver. if they lost azul, jamil would be like it’s alright we can dip. and if they lost kalim, jamil would have found him instantly. bro probably has a tracker on him or smth. talked this fic out with @mari-oaky (as always lol) who said, "kalim thinks that his and jamil's soul are so connected they will always find eachother, meanwhile jamil is never leaving without his gps tracker" and honestlty???? yeah. pretty much!!)

silver just lends to the funniest possible outcome, because the second year squad is aware that there is always the possibility that he just fell asleep somewhere

Silver: I can't believe I got trashed and made everyone worry--and late to their graduation on top of that. I'm so ashamed Lillia, somewhere, anywhere: AYOOOOOO THATS MY BOYYYY

Part 2

In part 2, there is a timeskip, and Azul and Idia are getting married.

they lose AZUL

because they lose Azul, it does lend to a similar scenario as the first hangover movie, but trust me, it works!!

see, losing azul offers a lot of fun shenanigans both with the second years trying to figure out what happened and find azul, and also with some of the other guests back at the wedding trying to stall for time

like idia knows that there are some really important guests, and he also knows that azul would hate to make a bad impression on these people. so he ends up having to put himself in situations he doesn't like to stall until the second years find azul

(man's gotta make small talk!! the horror!!!!!)

idia having to talk to people and everyone’s like damn so he IS in love

(idia's always needing to be rescued at weddings lmaooo)

and it's just--it's so funny to me because the last time they all hung out together at the same time, all of them, was the weekend before graduation when they lost Silver. and now, they all reunite for azul’s wedding and then they lose HIM

-x-Additional Notes-x-

so something that works both in Part 1-Graduation, and Part 2-Wedding, is that the second years haven't seen each other in a long time in either scenario, because during their last year at NRC they were all spread far away from each other doing internships, and later, the wedding happens years after NRC. so there could be a lot of unresolved situations between them

for instance, i wondered a lot about kalim and jamil. i thought of questions like, have kalijami seen each other? did jamil go back to silk city with kalim after graduation. if so, those two nights before graduation were the last two days of freedom he would enjoy in a while. and he can’t even remember them. if i go that route, he’s gonna attack jade when he finds out the dude purposely drugged them

but if jamil DOESNT return to silk city because kalim is planning to set jamil free, yet doesnt actuallu tell jamil about this plan until the ACTUAL DAY HE DOES IT, which is graduation, then you have a kalim desperate to spend the last two days he’ll ever spend with jamil. and jamil trying to spend the last two days free of kalim (as free as he’ll allow himself anyways)

but NEITHER CAN REMEMBER!!

and then—Part 2, the wedding. by then, are they good!?!? or are they still in this cycle of misunderstandings. are they together! or are they in a messy situationship.

is the wedding the first time jamil and kalim are seeing each other post-graduation or has jamil gone back to kalim at some point in between? so those were the type of questions i was considering

and then--the final product for Part 1 kalim and jamil ended up being a mix! they had gone on diffferent internships, as they are very different people with different interests. also it's slow progress towards jamil's freedom. so after a lot of efforts to convince their families, kalim and jamil were able to at least accomplish this much.

(and it's pretty much a given that they need time apart to figure out what they mean to eachother, this could be a first step towards that)

and, during his internship jamil realizes that he feels something for kalim? he's not sure what it is exactly, and his reaction is to panic because, after thinking a lot about it, he really wants to confess and figure it out, but he also fears that if he does he won't be able to leave kalim after they graduate, eventually regretting the fact that he couldn't spend more time on his own

we could sooo play with tension here, because what if he doesn’t want to leave!! and the thing is he has to, HE HAS to so they can work. its KALIM who has realized this, and made a mature selfless decision. he lets jamil go, but says he’ll wait if jamil wants to come back when he’s ready

hangover wedding edition they're together!

and it works because kalim and jamil's relationship has so many similarities to aladdin and genie too! imagine kalim hesitating to free jamil because he's scared that he'll lose him forever or because he's scared that he won't be able to move forward without jamil's help

but also, as @yuurei20 put it, he takes a lot of inspiration from sindbad too as a character that values frindship above any treasure in the world (in the more recent park ride) so he would have to come to term with letting jamil go

but kalim hesitating!!!! struck me that it could be a big factor in the hangover fic

like, you have jamil who is on the verge of realizing his feelings and what that means—the fear that he will want to stay. and a kalim who is hesitant about making good on his promise to free jamil, bc he 1) thinks he’s never going to see jamil again, 2) is worried abt how he’ll handle it and 3) jamil is FINALLY looking at him in that way

like yes, he values and loves jamil so much, he would have to let jamil go, and it’s gonna be hard, because jamil is—he wants to travel the world, but he’s also, he’s also nervous like. this is the first time he’s fully truly stepping away and finding himself and he’s a little scared

jamil almost suggests to kalim to come with him, they can travel the world together. but kalim would know instantly that jamil is just saying it because he is afraid of letting go of kalim, like he's still responsible for kalim's safety and wellbeing

and maybe jamil is a little scared of being alone too. he wants it more than anything, but that's not how he has lived his life until now. kalim having to be the one to make the mature decision of letting jamil go and letting jamil know there’s always space to come back to him. and kalim needing to trust in jamil to wait. while jamil needs to trust kalim can grow and can leave a spot open for jamil (which. the latter is the most obvious thing everyone knows. no one does devotion to jamil the way kalim does)

(thank you mari-oaky for being so awesome about everything and bouncing ideas around with me, you're just so amazing, i love your brain!!)

it was in fact mari-oaky who proposed the idea of there also being some drama between azul and another second year. like they were in an on and off relationship, and by the end of the first hangover they definitely break up. which leads to him eventually starting a relationship with idia. i loved that idea so much, especially because I already knew what i wanted to do with characters like Riddle.

riddle, by the time of azul’s wedding, is someone who is still not happy. he’s doing everything he’s supposed to. he’s set boundaries with his mother, he has a good job, he’s close with the heartslaybul boys and chenya still. but. he’s still unhappy. and they try to help but he still isn’t sure why he isn’t satisfied

so i'm still figuring out if the second year azul is having a turbulent and doomed entanglement with is Riddle, Ruggie, or Jade.

and just, figuring out these dynamic is so much fun because silver basically sleeps the first one out like the unproblematic king he is. he's got no time for drama. only sleep. and then, by the wedding, he’s involved poor guy 😭

but i'm still figuring some key dynamics out, and if anyone has any suggestions or questions, my asks and/or dms are always open!

[universe-030]

İ actually have a lot of questions and don't know if it's fine to ask them all in one lol but here I am. (Also if it's a lot of questions choose between the one you want to answer most please sorry for too many of them)

How did your spideypool meet? Did they start to romantically touchy (like simply holding hands but romantically this time you know lol) before identity reveal? And how identity reveal went? How was Wade's reaction to Pete? Also curious if he ever met Pete before the reveal and what was Peter's reaction. And Peter's reaction to Wade's face (some makes Pete's spider liking Wade's texture skin, some makes him nonchalant, some makes him attracted to Wade's features curious about your Pete's). How was their first kiss? I kinda have more but will stop here 😭

YEAAAAHHH, LET'S GOOOO. I'll preface this by saying everything ever is subject to change. I'm out of practice, and I have a tendency to round the corners of my writing, so this is all very experimental and fun! Anyways, here we go!!

How did your Spideypool meet?

-Full disclosure, I haven't figured that out quite yet. When I think about these two, I kinda stick within established relationship territory. But! I feel like we can easily assume they had their first meeting when they bother showed to -insert crime circle here- and Peter mistook him for another generic bad guy goon. That is, until Wade opened his big mouth absolutely gushing that

"he LOVES Spider-Man!! Oh my god!!"

That's about as much interaction they get until Wade is webbed upsidedown by his feet dangling from the ceiling.

• Did they start being romantically touchy (like hand-holding) before the identity reveal?

-Definitely flirty, more so on Deadpools part (obviously.) But Peter doesn't want to date or start dating as Spider-Man, he wants to date as Peter... but his relationship with MJ kinda crashed and blew up (their still friends!) so it's a lot of push and pull mentally on Peter's behalf. So it takes a whiiile.

• How did the identity reveal go?

-Deadpool revealing as Wade, great! I mean cmon, everyone knows Deadpool is Wade Wilson - it's practically on his business card. Shocker to noone.

Spider-Man revealing as Peter Parker, that was kind of a thing. I have it planned out so the reveal happens after a very huge fight between Deadpool and Spidey that revolves around putting people on pedestals and differences in social class. The fight itself is kinda huge but the reveal is quiet. I wanna make a more fleshed out version (and everything is subject to change.)

• What was Wade’s reaction to Peter’s identity?

- That is also TBD. I'm stuck between him accepting it with a quiet wonder and a more angsty feeling of betrayal. "Do you not trust me" type of thing, but idk how that would fit into the story.

• Had Wade met Peter before the reveal without realizing it? If so, how did Peter react?

-Yes!! A little. In this universe, Peter is a part time (but somehow still working 40 hours a week) coffee barista! The first time Wade walked in ordering a "large iced latte, with four extra shots of espresso and 3 extra pumps of brown sugar, pretty please." He handled it just fine, it was bound to happen, until Wade asked if there was "anything extra sweet on the menu ;3"

• How did Peter react to Wade’s face/scarring? Was he nonchalant, curious, or even attracted to Wade’s unique features?

-Very curious! He did stare quite a bit and had to apologize a few times but it was kinda fascinating. Peter already knew it was a (in Wade's words) "leather couch fire gone wrong." So he was prepared, you could put it. Sometimes he has the urge to feel them, trace the scars and tumors but he doesn't want to offend Wade so he looks from afar. He doesn't lie to Wade and say "they make you more beautiful 🥺🩷" cause Wade will absolutely not put up with that - so he just says "They're kinda cool. Do they hurt?"

And they talk from there.

• Does his spider-sense play a role in his comfort or attraction?

Oooooh okay I have ideas. I dunno if his senses play a huge roll, sometimes when he wants to quiet his head, and if Wade's cool with it, he'll run his hand along Wade's scars where he can reach. I've also thought about something something pheromones but I'm not committed to that.

And I want an excuse to talk about this so, Peter's glasses work in reverse. His eyes worked fine before, then after the bite they worked too well, way too well. to the point where he would get constant migranes from having to force his eyes to focus and not zoom way the fuck in. So essentially his glasses are actually "De-magnifying glasses."

• How was their first kiss?

-Very sudden and clumsy. Spidey didn't take off his glasses and Wade was midway to biting his burrito but he just *had* to push in. It was one of those moments where something in your heart just clicks and you're slammed with anxiety and your face just heats up and you're shaking?? the only thing that made sense in that moment, more than fire being hot or space being big, was Peter's lips on Wade's.

THANK YOU BABES, THIS WAS FUN!!! ask whatever you like!