#Cass being a little munchkin over there

[twilidragonrin-art]

Dimitrescu wolves

[codenamed-queenie]

Spooky Scary Shenanigans

Ah, Halloween. Of all the holidays Bruce’s small army of a family loves, this one takes the cake. 

Coincidentally, Halloween is also the holiday every member of the Justice League dreads most ardently. This is in part due to the fact that Barry always eats a little too much of Wally and Bart’s candy and spends the next week complaining about his subsequent stomachache, but mostly because Bruce’s d**n munchkins make it their personal mission to--for a good, solid 24 hours--make their lives a living hell. 

Bruce’s merry band of miscreants play a new prank every year, each more elaborate than the last. So far, their pranks include--

Getting Nightwing to Fold Himself Into a Contortionist Pose in the Middle of the Hall of Justice.

He screamed for a solid hour. 

Said that he fell and got all twisted up, and couldn’t un-twist himself without extreme pain.

He was totally fine, for the record.

But the tourists were freaking out. 

The other Bats were hamming it up, screaming in six-part harmony with their brother for help and running back and forth.

While the League collectively Lost Their S**t.

Simulating a ‘Disaster Scenario’ Where ‘Brainiac’ Took Over The Watchtower. 

In reality, Oracle was busy behind the scenes making the lights flicker with a few keystrokes, messing with the anti-gravity settings, and cackling like a madwoman the whole way through. 

Brainiac, coincidentally, had been about to invade. 

But decided he was both far too entertained by the chaos 

And far too scared (quite s**tless, in fact) of Oracle to interrupt

Convincing the Entire Justice League That Bruce Had ‘Died’ on an Ill-Fated Mission Gone Wrong (”Alas, we always knew it would be Condiment King who overthrew the mighty Dark Knight. Goodbye, father, you shall be missed.”)...and Was Now Haunting Them. 

They paid Martian Manhunter off with 513 oreos (Tim counted them out individually with precise determination) to shape-shift into Batman and float through walls, floors, ceilings, and male bathroom stalls at inopportune times. 

The Leaguers caught on pretty quickly 

(J’ohnn stands out like a green thumb, and his absence was notable)

But not before being sufficiently traumatized.

Even to this day, Barry still claps Batman on the shoulder in greeting every time they meet. He says he’s ‘just trying to be friendly’.

But Bruce knows better.

The Time Tim, Cass, and Stephanie Convinced the Members of the Teen Titans That They Had All ‘Disappeared’ By Ignoring Said Members and ‘Freaking Out’. (”Has anyone seen Bart?? Cassie? Cassie! Holy smokes, they just vanished! We’ve gotta call somebody! Who do we call? Steph, if you say ‘Ghostbusters’, I swear to--”)

It devolved quickly, as--

Steph kept cracking up, 

Bart dissolved into tears when Tim threatened to eat his jalapeño poppers, because it’s ‘what he would have wanted’ and ‘we’ve gotta keep his memory alive!’ 

Kon threw a futon through the top floor window in a fit of rage. As far as anyone knows, it’s still soaking at the bottom of the bay. 

Cassie smacked Tim upside the head so hard he flew through a wall, and Steph couldn’t stop laughing long enough to come up with another ‘it must have been the wind!’ excuse.

Programming the Boom tubes on the Watchtower to Teleport Unsuspecting Leaguers Straight to Random Doorsteps.

Unsuspecting civilians would then open their doors with bowls of assorted candy 

Only to be greeted by equally confused superheroes.

“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be out trick-or-treating?”

“Nice Hawkman costume, where’d you get the wings? Party City?”

“Loving that Green-Lantern vibe, but Ryan Reynolds wore it better.”

(Hal had to be physically restrained)

The only one not ticked the hell off was Barry, who pocketed all of his sugary winnings with smug satisfaction.

The Year They Formally Introduced Duke Thomas to the Rest of the Heroes by Plunging the Entire HQ Into Blackness and Having Him Sneak Up On People. 

“Well, the backup generators haven’t kicked in, yet. We’re gonna be here a while. So...just for the sake of conversation, I heard your dad got a new kid?”

“Oh yeah. And between you and me, he’s actually a demon from an alternate universe.”

“...beg pardon?”

“Oh, you will, trust me. But yeah, he sees better in the dark. He can even see the future!”

A hand landed on the Leaguer’s shoulder. 

Duke’s voice whispered from the darkness--

“You’re about to wet yourself.”

The Leaguer screamed.

And the Kicker?

The Year They Actually Weren’t Joking Like At All.

The League almost missed an entire freaking alien invasion because they thought it was just another d**n prank.

“Dang, those kids really went all out this year, huh? These news reports look so real...”

“Yeah. Probably blew Papa Brucie’s bank wide open to pay for *that* kinda CGI.”

“Oh, helLO ‘Mr. President’. Why, yes, as a matter of fact we ARE aware of the situation. I suppose you’re going to ask us if our refrigerator’s running too?”

Meanwhile the Bats are out fighting the alien fleet tooth and nail

And screaming over the comms for the League to get their butts in gear. 

After that last fiasco, all Halloween pranks were officially banned. 

The operative word, however, being...’officially’. 

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Hey! If you're accepting requests right now may I get Scott x Reader fluff? 🥺 The details are up to you I only want the fluff 😅

I love when I get Scott requests. I love it!!!! Yes to the Scott fluff - I gotchu!!! Also the gif below has nothing to do with what happens in the fic, it just has both Cassie and Scott in it. XD

Title: Pillow Fort

Word Count: 922 words

Pairing: Scott x reader

Summary: What better way to spend a Saturday evening than with movie marathons, pillow forts, Scott, and sweet Cassie?

Kiss prompt: Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter. 

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFFER FLUFFINESS

--

Pillows – check. Blankets – check. Candy – check. Soda – check. Movies galore – check.

Double of everything listed above – double check.

Cassie looked up from her check list, pencil pressed against her lips as she looked around. “Are we missing anything?”

On his knees, Scott made sure to take a careful look around. Then, he remembered. “What about your gift for Y/N?”

“Right!” Cassie dropped her notepad and pencil, running in the direction of her bedroom.

Scott laughed, scratching the back of his neck as his little girl took off. She had taken such a liking to Y/N. Something he had never expected to see, but god, did it warm his heart. “Hurry, she’ll be here soon!” Pushing himself off the floor, he grabbed the movies and flipped through them. “Wait, Peanut, which one did you want to watch first?”

Cassie came back out, the birthday present wrapped in Sunday morning comics with maybe a tad too much tape. “Um…” Her nose scrunched. “Rise of the Guardians for sure.”

Scott laughed. “You got it.” He went to put it in just as the doorbell rang.

“I got it,” Cassie screamed.

Scott focused on setting up the TV. He heard the door open, giggles and hellos passing between his two favorite girls. When did he get this lucky? He honestly couldn’t picture a time before Y/N entered their life. She just…she fit. So well.

“Hey, Handsome.” He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. Tilting his head back, he grinned from ear to ear as she kissed his nose.

“Hey, Cutie,” he whispered, craning his head back a little more. He caught her lips in a quick kiss. Quick only because he heard Cassie’s incessant giggles behind them.

“Dad,” she whined. “It’s time for the marathon.”

“And is this what we’re watching it in?” Y/N gestured to the fort. It was extreme. If there was a competition for this creation, they would have won the gold. “Awesome, where am I sitting?”

Cassie showed her and Scott their spots. They laid on either side of her. A massive sandwich of pillows and blankets with twinkle lights and a huge screen being their only source of light. Scott’s arm was tucked behind her, his hand lightly tracing Y/N’s shoulder. “Do you want to give Y/N your present first?”

“My what now?”

His daughter grabbed the box, turning to face them. She was practically shaking with excitement. Crawling closer to them, she snuggled into Scott’s side and handed Y/N the box. “It’s for your birthday.”

“You didn’t have to – “

“Just open it.”

Y/N looked to Scott for help, but he just shrugged. When it came to Cassie’s ideas, he was merely along for the ride. Her fingers tugged at the comic strips of wrapping paper, taking it slow simply because Cassie’s excitement was so adorable.

She set the paper aside, opening the box. Her heart swelled at the sight. “Cassie,” she whispered.

“I saved up all of my allowance to get it. Do you like it?”

Y/N pulled out the multi-chained bracelet. It had three charms – little hearts made of different gemstones. She recognized them. It was each of their birthstones. “Cass…” She looked at her, unable to contain her smile. “This is the sweetest gift anyone has ever given me. C’mere, Munchkin.” Y/N tugged Cassie into her lap, squeezing her tight. She looked at Scott, as if silently asking if he had anything to do with this. He held his hands up, completely innocent. “Can you help me put it on?”

Cassie nodded, tiny fingers playing with the clasp as Y/N took off her many bracelets. The gift fit perfectly. Y/N knew she would have the hardest time taking it off. She smothered Cassie’s cheeks in kisses, earning a bunch of giggles before they finally settled down. “So…what movie are we watching tonight?”

Loving every minute of his girls interacting, Scott picked up the remote as Cassie finally settled between them. “Peanut here has picked Rise of the Guardians.”

“Sweet!” Y/N grabbed a Hershey kiss. “I love that one.”

-

Somewhere after five movies, a lot of sugar, and in the middle of El Dorado’s credits, the trio had fallen asleep. They were all tucked together under Scott’s comforter. A perfect fit really.

Cassie was the first to wake. She was slow, as quiet as a mouse as she slipped out of the fort. Cereal. She needed cereal.

Which left Y/N to snuggle into Scott’s chest, head resting on the crook of his arm. They were awake, but neither of them wanted to admit it. It was so warm. Comfortable. Perfect. Tilting her head slightly, Y/N started trailing kiss over his jaw, legs intertwining with his. She kept her eyes closed, knowing if she opened them then they had to admit it was time to get up.

“Morn’,” Scott mumbled, nose brushing hers as he lightly kissed her cheek.

Y/N kissed his cheek. “Don’t say that. She’ll hear.”

Scott chuckled, lips catching hers. His fingers reached, cradling her jaw as her hands rest on his forearm. It was simple, sweet bliss.

Humming softly, Y/N opened her eyes and squeezed his arms. “You’re cute in the mornings,” she told him, nose nudging his before they kissed once more.

“So are you.”

“Morning.”

The two jumped, looking towards the fort’s entrance. They laughed when they saw Cassie and her giant pet ant sitting. Watching.

They giggled, foreheads resting against each other as Cassie munched on her breakfast. She held out her bowl, mouth full as she asked, “Cereal?”

--

Scott Lang Masterlist

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Tim or Cass. 🌈

The day derailed with a gag, a stupid little joke. It was Damian’s fault for being a brat. If he hadn’t taken Tim’s favorite sweatshirt—without asking permission—Tim wouldn’t have had to chase him through the house. If Tim hadn’t been chasing him through the house, they wouldn’t have blown through the kitchen, where Cass was sitting on the counter island, eating a jello cup. They wouldn’t have raced around her little oasis, Damian scrambling, Tim roaring.

Tim, in a fit of pique and desperate inspiration, wouldn’t have screeched, “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your little dog, too!”

Damian wouldn’t have stopped dead, a deep scowl on his face, forcing Tim to skid to a halt as well so they didn’t end up in a pile on the floor. Even then, that might have been the end of it, Tim’s sweatshirt recovered, the peace settled, the scowl ignored, had Cass not been frowning as well.

“What?” Tim looked from one to the other and back, aware that somehow he’d stepped in it without knowing what or why or how.

“You dare threaten Titus—” Damian hissed, his cheeks flaring with color as he stepped forward, fists clenched.

No, Cass signed sharply. You must be kind to animals. That is not kind.

“What? No, no no.” Tim lifted his hands placatingly. He needed to defuse the situation before he got himself stabbed. Or worse. “It’s a quote. I didn’t mean—The Wicked Witch of the West? You know, Dorothy? Toto?”

He crooked his fingers menacingly and hunched his shoulders before cackling in a nearly perfect imitation, “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your little dog, too!” 

The recitation was met with blank stares.

“No? Oh my word. Have you two never seen The Wizard of Oz?”

The only change was a slight head tilt from Cass.

“Okay,” Tim decided, “we’re fixing this. Come on.”

WE paperwork would hold for another time. The casework down in the Cave could wait. There was a larger injustice to rectify. The day was officially derailed.

They crashed in the den, sprawled across the plush leather couch with bowls of popcorn and juice boxes and Titus curled up on the rug. (Damian insisted, as it was the dog’s safety at stake. Should Damian’s affront not be sated by the movie, Titus would be instructed to bite Tim. Tim did not agree to this, but the dog was allowed to stay.) It had been years since Tim had watched the entire film, and he found himself enjoying the fuzzy nostalgia. He also enjoyed the expressions and reactions of his siblings more than he had anticipated.

Damian, predictably, loathed Almira Gulch and cheered Dorothy’s decision to run away and save her dog. He also took (vocal) issue with the physics involved in the tornado scene. Cass watched the first technicolor view of Oz with wide, dazzled eyes and bit her lip as the Munchkins danced around Dorothy.

Both looked to Tim with a dawning understanding as the Wicked Witch appeared and threatened Dorothy, her cackling screech echoing Tim’s earlier mimicry. And that could have been it. Now believing that Titus was in no danger and with Tim’s honor restored, they could have turned off the movie and gone about their day. But they stayed.

Tim had forgotten how scary parts of the movie could be, and found himself sandwiched on either side by his siblings as the poppies lulled and the Wizard threatened, as the Lion cried and the monkeys harassed, as the Scarecrow screamed and the witch melted. Both children had, surely, seen far scarier things in their lives, all of them horrible and real, but perhaps that was the comfort of a good movie. All horrors must come to an end. The dog would be saved. The friends would be rewarded. The lost little girl would return home, where she would be loved and doted upon.

The movie ended. They started it again.

Cass had a bad habit of hyperfixating on new music, and Tim could already tell that the household would be subjected to every cover of “Over the Rainbow” ever created. He was okay with that, at least right now. She watched with stars in her eyes as Judy Garland perched on the fence and crooned about bluebirds and lullabies.

“If you were to run away,” he asked, his voice hushed and sleepy, “where would your over the rainbow be?”

It was a stupid question, and he half-expected Damian to laugh, to mock him. He was only partially disappointed.

“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes even as he stretched on the couch, arching his back to look up at his brother so Tim could take the full weight of his disdain. “I am already here. When I thought of leaving the League, it was to come here. Why would I go now?”

He turned back to the television, the question clearly rhetorical. Cass nodded as well, her smile as warm and soft as her cheek against Tim’s side.

The popcorn was nothing but kernels. The juice boxes had been squeezed dry. Titus dozed on his back, paws in the air, oblivious to the world. They lay on the couch, heads resting on hips, arms thrown across shoulders, a tangled mass of warmth and contentment and one stolen sweatshirt.

There was no place like home.

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Babysitting

Title: Babysitting

Characters: Castiel, Sam’s son Thomas (OMC), Dean’s daughter Delilah (OFC), Dean and Sam and their spouses (mentioned)

Word Count: 1185

Summary: Castiel is left to babysit the Winchester offsprings, while they are out.

Warnings: FLUFF!!

A/N: This literally found its way into my head and I thought it was adorable so I wrote it to share with all of you. I hope you find it amusing and it brings a smile to your day! Enjoy! And remember, I love you guys!! xx

These two. They were the splitting image of their fathers. Sam’s son with thick hazelnut hair and those overemotional eyes that get’s him what ever he wanted, and Dean’s daughter, eyes greener than evergreen and freckles scattered all over her nose and cheeks, the only thing she got from her mother was her long dark hair and naturally tanned skin.

“Ugh, where are your parents?! They should be home by now,” Cass groaned, having to stay behind and watch the kids. They were a handful, taking more than their looks from their parents.

“I bet’cha their having the sex!” Delilah shouted obnoxiously, her voice piercing through the bunker. “Making fetus babies! Did you know they look like little beans?!”

“Hey! Lilah, you’re not allowed to say that word! Your mommy said so!” Thomas shouted.

“It was an accident!” The 5-year old girl hollered.

“I’m gonna tell!” Thomas, who was a year older, threatened.

“Alright you two, I am sick and tired of your bickering. I’ve told you multiple times to cut it out,” Cass scolded pointing to the library. Both children knew what that meant. Time out. “And how do you even know what intercourse and fetuses are?” Castiel questioned not thinking about the answer he would receive.

“Thomas told me. He read it in a big people book!”

“Mama scolded me, said that I wasn’t supposed to read that. But I thought a stork brought the babies? That they drop of a bean and Mommy eats it and the baby grows in her stomach, not with a tadpole looking thing. And why do Mommies have eggs? My mom said that we didn’t hatch like chickens. There was a lot of pictures! How do you think they make babies?” Thomas asked Cass, Delilah staring up at him expectantly.

“Uh, it’s complicated. Now go and sit and I’ll be back to check on you two,” Cass replied, astounded by the knowledge they had. Homeschooling is quite effective.

Delilah and Thomas was sitting in the Library, doing their time, when Thomas let out a soft fart. Delilah flinched at the sound and flicked her eyes at her cousin, giggle when she met his guilty face. Thomas began to giggle as well letting out more spurts of gas. Delilah eventually lost it and started to laugh uncontrollably, her voice ringing through the underground home.

Cass returned, his face stern with authority. The two kids, instantly stopped laughing, not wanting to get in trouble with their uncle Cass. “There is no conversing or any noise disturbances when you’re on time out. Do I need to bring out the big people books?”

“Ew, no! They don’t have any pictures,” Thomas pouted.

“Uncle Cass, we’re sorry. Tommo tooted. We won’t ever talk again.” Cass eyed mini Dean suspiciously. She was so much like her father that he knew better. He knew that she was merely trying to wiggle herself out of the situation with false pretense.

“No.”

“But uncle Cass!” She began to whine, wiggling in her seat.

“I said, no. You can’t break the rules without consequence. I’m going to bring out the big people books.”

“You’re a big meanie!”

Cass froze up in his journey towards the bookshelves, a little hurt and a little annoyed. This was what he was told to do when it came to disciplining them. He never intended to be mean and he sure didn’t want the kids to feel that he didn’t like them or have them believe that he was a mean uncle, because he wasn’t.

“Uncle Cass?” Thomas started, “Lilah didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.” Cass relaxed a bit at Thomas’s words. Just like his mother and father, he was a little more empathetic. “Lilah, you hurt uncle Cass’s feelings,” he chided.

Delilah pouted knowing that she’s done a bad thing. She loved her uncle Cass very much. She loved him so much that only Uncle Cass could tuck her in at night and keep all the bad things away. Uncle Cass was her angel, a protector, a big squishy teddy bear in human form.

“I’m sorry uncle Cass,” her voice was soft with guilt. She never wanted to hurt his feelings.

“Hey,” Cass turned around, looking at both young humans sitting at the table quietly. “It’s alright. I did come off sounding a little frustrated, but you understand that I need to be the grownup.” Both children nodded in understanding. “Why don’t we go make a snack?”

“OH! Let’s make pie!” Delilah cheered. It was almost like a switch had flipped and she went from sad to happy.

“Uncle Cass, do you even know how to make pie?” Thomas questioned, his expression obviously believing that Cass didn’t know how.

Cass cleared his throat before reluctantly admitting that he didn’t have the skills of Delilah’s mother. “No, but we can figure out something easy we could make.”

“I know! Let’s make grilled cheese. Mama says it’s the easiest thing to make!” Thomas roared, pumping his fists on either side of his body.

“Ooh! I want three cheeses on mine!” Delilah cooed, wrapping her tiny hands around Cass’s enormous one, tugging at him with excitement.

“Me too!” Thomas agreed. The two little Winchesters went zooming into the kitchen leaving the frazzled angel behind. They said that grilled cheese was easy to make, but was it really? Could Cass really make grilled cheese? Well, he was going to find out.

After 3 failed attempts, and two laughing hyenas standing beside him, picking at the melted cheese of the burnt grilled cheeses, Cass was beyond frustrated. He figured that maybe he could use his grace to make them. It wouldn’t take much, and the grace should wear off from the kids by the time their parents came home, right? What they didn’t know won’t hurt.

Castiel’s mind took a tangent, remembering the first time he had made a snack for the kids, using his grace to heat them up. Ignorant to what could happen, the kids had consumed some of the grace giving them a few tricks to play with. Thomas was shocking people, and Delilah could see glowing lights that surrounded people.

Cass’s eyes flashed blue for an instant before he was figured out. “Uncle Cass, Daddy said you can’t use your grace!” Delilah shouted, causing Cass to flinch with surprise.

“You’re right. I was testing you and you passed,” Cass fibbed.

“Yay! That means I win!” She sassed, staring at Thomas.

“This wasn’t a game, Lilah!” He exclaimed.

“You’re just mad you lost, Tommo!”

“Alright, alright you two. Let’s try this again.”

“Don’t worry, you almost got it,” Thomas assured, patting his little hand on Castiel’s back.

“Thanks,” he replied, his face heating up at the fact that he needed the reassurance of a 6-year old.

This time he was successful and the two munchkins were happily eating their food, swinging their legs to and fro under the table. Cass couldn’t help but smile watching them interact. They might have been cousins, but what he saw was Sam and Dean as kids, aside from Delilah being a female. The similarities were uncanny.

Tell me what you thought!

Forever Tags: @amanda-teaches @waywardbaby @dont-you-dare-say-misha @babypieandwhiskey @my-thoughts-on-display3 @atc74 @alwayskeepfightingkaz-2y5 @herbologystudent252 @mogaruke @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @whimsicalrobots @grace-for-sale (not letting me tag you) @dragonchica @carryonmywaywardcaptain @waywardlodging @esoltis280 @winchesterslibrary @winchestergirl607 @waywardnerd67 @emoryhemsworth @caitthejourno @heyitscam99

Castiel/Misha Tags: @so-get--this

TFW/2.0 @alex-zeppelin @trolling-the-interwebs

[drawingsanddrabbles]

Too Bad Santa’s Dead

Prompt: “Too Bad Santa’s Dead” (Bones s3e9)

I know, I know... A Jew writing a Christmas fic... I am confused about it myself. Anywho, here's a fic that was prompted from a line in a Bones episode from a rewatch and... and basically I wrote this in May. I wrote a Christmas fic in May and I'm a Jew so like... yeah. Join the confusion.

Anyway, Merry Christmas to all who celebrate and by the by Tim and Kon are aged-up to at least 18 because yeah.

ao3

“Dude, this sucks.” Kon said as he floated over the dead Santa.

“You know I’m an atheist, right?” Tim poked at the body and finished his oral report on the body and crime scene.

“Hey, I’m only part-Christian but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t suck.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Santa isn’t real, Kon.”

“How do you know? I’m a clone of an alien and an evil corporate super-villain overlord. Santa could be real.”

“He’s not.” Tim snapped.

Kon recoiled. “Okay, it was just a joke.” Tim didn’t respond. Something had clearly upset Tim. Kon frowned, had Tim and Kon never had a conversation about Santa before? They’d known each other for years, not to mention that they’d been dating for around a year. Though, this would be their first Christmas together.

Did Tim hate Christmas?

Why did Tim hate Santa?

“Are you okay?” Kon asked as he floated.

Tim exhaled annoyedly (Kon knew that reaction well) and he stood. “I’m fine. Sorry for being snappy.”

“Are you sure?” Kon asked.

Tim pulled his mouth into a smile. “Yeah.” He was lying.

Which obviously meant that Tim wouldn’t tell Kon why and if Kon wanted to understand him better there seemed to be only one way to figure out why Tim hated the concept of Santa: ask the family. “I’ve gotten everything I’m going to get from the scene and I collected samples. Do you mind if we go back to the Cave so I can run tests?”

For once, Kon didn’t. “I’d love to go back. Want me to keep you company?”

Tim smiled, this time a real smile. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

Dick’s first reaction was: “Someone killed Santa?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Santa isn’t real, Dick. Someone killed someone dressed as Santa.”

“Uh huh.” Dick said. He leaned over to Kon and whispered, “Tim doesn’t like Santa.”

“Yeah, what’s that about?” Kon whispered back. Tim worked without sign of hearing them, they continued to whisper for Tim’s sake.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Not that I can remember.”

Dick zipped his lips. “Not my secret to tell.”

“At least a hint?” Kon asked. “Help a boyfriend out.”

Dick looked at Tim, hesitated, then back at Kon: “It’s not just Santa, it’s also Christmas.”

“Wha-Really?” But Dick zipped his lips again. He walked over to Tim and rubbed his hair.

“See ya, kiddo.”

“Bye, Dick.” Tim raised an eyebrow. “What’re you doing all the way over there?” Tim asked Kon, just realizing how far away from Tim he was.

“Nothing, just thinking.”

“Sit next to me?” Tim asked.

Kon smiled and pulled up a chair next to Tim’s at the Batcomputer. He kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “Sure babe.”

“EW!” Someone cried, seeing Kon kiss Tim. Tim rolled his eyes.

“I don’t ‘ew’ you when you kiss Cass.” He called to Steph who bounced over to Tim, resting her arms and head on Tim’s.

“That’s ‘cuz we’re gorgeous and there’s nothing to ‘ew.’ You on the other hand...”

“Hey!” Kon cried.

Steph grinned at him. “Not you of course, Kon. You’re just as gorgeous as us.” She winked at him.

“Stop hitting on my boyfriend.” Tim said, eyes never leaving the Batcomputer screens.

“Tim is gorgeous too!” Kon cried outraged.

“You only say that ‘cuz you’re his boyfriend, I’m his ex so I can say that he isn’t.”

“Thanks, Steph.” Tim said.

“You’re welcome.”

Tim switched to his crime scene pictures of the victim and frowned.

“Aw! Someone killed Santa?” Steph cried.

“Santa-”

“I know, I know, Santa isn’t real.”

“Who is not real?” Damian asked, Kon jumped out of his skin. He knew the gremlin was a ninja and all but like? Seriously? Damian hadn’t been there five seconds ago. He pushed Kon and Tim out of the way so he could see the case.

“No one you care about.” Tim said, pushing Damian so he could go back to his past position in front of the computer.

“Dami, see the red suit and the white beard? In our society that is a marker of a man named Santa Claus.” Steph explained.

“Santa Claus is imaginary.” Damian said.

“I can’t believe we agree on something.” Tim muttered.

Wait, Steph had dated Tim before… “Hey, Steph? Can we talk for a moment? Y’know, alone.”

Steph looked surprised. “Yeah, sure thing Hot Stuff. Step into my office.”

Kon stood and they began walking away from Tim when Damian said loudly: “If you are discussing sexual encounters with Drake, please walk farther from my earshot.”

“We’re far enough away that you can’t hear us, Kid!” Steph shouted at him. She turned to Kon, “what’s up?”

“Why does Tim hate Christmas?” He asked softly.  Steph glanced at Tim. “Please, Steph? Help a boyfriend out?”

“You used that exact line on Dick, didn’t you? And he didn’t tell you?”

Kon chewed on his lip. “Possibly…?”

“If Dick didn’t tell you, no way I’m telling you.” Steph said.

“Aw, please Steph?”

“The key to a healthy relationship is communication, Sunshine.” Steph said, patting him on the shoulder.

Kon sighed. “Whatever, thanks anyway.” He went back to Tim but Damian was sitting in his seat, conducting tests. “Dude, move.”

“Find another seat.” Damian snapped.

I can’t believe I’m arguing with an angry munchkin. Kon thought. Tim glared at Damian. He turned to Kon and stood, kissing him on the cheek. As if sensing his anger towards the little man, Tim suggested, “you know what, I’ll see you at home Kon, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Kon asked. He glowered at Damian but the youth ignored him. Tim nodded and Kon kissed Tim again and Damian rolled his eyes.

“Please take your possessive sexual activities somewhere else.” Damian said.

Kon was about to bite something back but Tim hit Damian on the back of the head and Damian growled something at him. Tim went back to the case and seemed to forget that Kon was in the room which was understandable, he always got that way when on a case. Kon guessed he’d go home then. He glanced back at the dead Santa on the screen and got an idea.

“No.” Tim said. Kon frowned, he hadn’t expected Tim to react so strongly. Tim stumbled backward, eyes staring. He tumbled into the wall, his gaze breaking. He turned and walked out.

“Tim?” Kon grabbed a robe, following him out into the cold Gotham night, “Tim, come back! If it bothers you that much I- Tim!” But Tim was nowhere to be seen.

Kon had fucked up. Kon had really, super duper, absolutely, indubitably, and terribly fucked up. Kon was about to jump into the air when a strong wind blew into Kon’s robe. Someone above him snorted. “Wow, trouble in paradise?”

Jason. Great. “Why are you here?”

“To stare at your wonderfully beautiful ass. Or maybe just to annoy Tim’s. I like to keep you heroes guessing.” Jason said. Kon was sure he was kidding.

Kon glared at him. He sat on top of Tim’s apartment building, mask on, leg hanging lazily over the edge of the roof. He looked Kon up and down, physically moving his mask to make sure Kon knew what he was doing. Kon looked down and closed his robe tighter (which probably wasn’t helping Kon’s modesty). “Are you here for a reason? Because if not, I have to go find my boyfriend and make sure he doesn’t want to kill me.” Kon grumbled.

“You really fucked up, didn’t you?” Jason shook his head. “Didn’t you know he has a thing about Christmas?”

“How did you know? You’ve tried to kill him.”

“Oh please, Krypto-Boy, we all have a thing about Christmas. For the demon-spawn and the mute it’s a detachment; they aren’t Christian, they never had a reason to love or want to love Christmas. Christmas was one of the only days Princess Eggplant’s dad was allowed to contact her, which didn’t always give her warm and fuzzy feelings. Not to mention a cheap Christmas and no presents, nothing that you want from Santa. And Dickiebird and Brucie? Well, being an orphan isn’t too fun on a family-centric holiday.”

He hadn’t known. Kon didn’t know what it was like, sure he was lonely and alone. Sure he didn’t know of a family before Tim and Bart and Cassie and Dubbilex and Jim and… but he had Ma and Pa, he had Kara and Clark and he had Lois. He had Christmas. They didn’t.

“And you? Tim?”

“Me? I was a street kid. Christmas meant cold, it meant pity charity from people too rich to care about me except for one fucking day of the year. Then? It meant Bruce and Dick and Alfred and family. And then? Then it meant nothing. But this is about Tim, and Tim? Tim wasn’t like us. Tim’s family wasn’t like any of ours. You’re never going to make Tim like Christmas. Tolerate it? Maybe. But like and love? Never. Just give up on that dream, don’t force him.”

“So? What do I do now?”

“So, you wanted to find out why? Ask him yourself clone. You want to accept that he just doesn’t like Christmas and he never will? Do that. It’s up to you now, Luthor-spawn, make the right choice.”

“Why are you here, Jason?”

Jason stood and brushed off his legs. “I heard Kris Kringle bit it, I thought I might have heard something, I was going to tip off the replacement, but clearly this isn’t the time. Go after him, Wannabe. He needs you.”

Kon nodded. He was about to take off again when Jason added, “and put on some pants. Maybe things are different in Metropolis, but in Gotham ripped dudes flying around wrapped as a Christmas present isn’t appropriate.”

Kon ran into the apartment he and Tim shared and changed, then he closed his eyes and followed the sound of his love’s heartbeat.

“Here, huh?” Kon asked, landing on the top of the Wayne Enterprises Tower.

Tim shrugged, his legs swinging off the edge of the roof. “I like being up high. How’d you find me?”

“It’s not hard, I know you. I know your heartbeat. And I know when I’ve clearly upset you.”

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

“No. It’s my fault. I knew you were upset about Christmas and Santa and I pushed it too far. I thought... I thought I could make it right. Give you some good memories. Clearly I was wrong.”

“Clearly.”

“Tim, please tell me: what I can do to make it right?” Kon asked. He sat down next to Tim. Tim stared out at the illuminated street below him.

“When, when I was three I learned about Santa for the first time.” Tim began slowly. “I was at pre-school and my teacher asked if anyone knew who Santa was. I was the only person in class who didn’t know. That night, that afternoon really, Mrs. Mac picked me up from school—Mom and Dad were in Africa for Christmas. I told Mrs. Mac about what I’d learned that day, about Santa, and she, and I’ll never forget this, she turned around in her seat with the most pitying look on her face and she said: ‘oh, Tim dear Santa isn’t real.’” Tim stared at his hands and inhaled shakily. “Just like that. To a three year old. I mean, I’d figure it out eventually, but really?” He paused before continuing. “I didn’t really believe her, not entirely. What my teachers and classmates said… it had to be real, I mean Batman was real so why not Santa, right? Well I waited up for him that night, after Mrs. Mac had gone to her family for the holiday, I stayed up. I stayed up and I made milk and cookies and I hid with my camera, a birthday present by the way, under the couch and I waited for Santa to come. And by morning Santa didn’t come, and there were no presents under my tree. And until Mom died that was my Christmas, alone in the house. When I turned five I started buying my own presents, Mom and Dad gave me the money of course, but I bought them. I wrapped them. I hid them under the tree. Christmas didn’t really seem so magical, and soon I just… stopped, all together. After all I could buy whatever I wanted with my parents credit cards whenever I wanted, what was the point of celebrating Christmas?” He finally stopped to breathe. The breaths were thick and his shoulders shook, his voice trembled. “So when you… I don’t want Christmas. I-I know you were trying to be helpful, but I just-I don’t want Christmas!”

“Okay.” Kon said. “No Christmas, promise.” Tears fell from Tim’s eyes and Kon wrapped him in a hug. “No Christmas. Promise.” He repeated.

Tim walked into the apartment on December 24th not expecting what he saw. But it didn’t make him walk out. “You-you cleaned the apartment.” He stated.

Kon grinned. He wore Tim’s favorite sweater for him (it was an S-Shield pattern that Ma had made for him one year) and the apartment was flawless. The mouth-watering aroma of Chinese food filled the air. A blanket lay across the couch and Tim’s laptop was plugged in, laying on top of it. The TV was on and ready to be watched. “What-what is this?” He asked, slightly overwhelmed by the sparkiliness of the moment.

“I figured, since you don’t like Christmas, how about we don’t do Christmas. How about we never do Christmas. Instead we do an ‘us’ night. We stay in, eat our favorite foods, pizza is on it’s way by the way, we marathon Wendy. We cuddle on the couch. Then, tomorrow we can go out on patrol or whatever you want to do.”

“An ‘us’ night?”

Kon nodded enthusiastically. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to. ‘Cuz then we don’t have to. I just thought… since I’ll never be able to give you good Christmas memories, what if we never had to worry about Christmas at all? Y’know do kind of a new holiday, just for us.”

“Just for us.” Tim repeated.

Kon nodded, trying to gauge Tim’s reaction. When Tim said nothing, Kon’s face fell. “Actually,” he said bashfully, “it’s stupid, we can just do nothing, I’ll just-”

“No!” Tim said, freezing Kon in his tracks. “No.” Tim said. “It’s perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And very sweet.” He walked over to Kon and hugged and kissed him lightly.

“Um, excuse me?” A voice said from behind them.

The pizza guy had arrived. Kon paid him and took the pizza from him. He closed the door and Tim and Kon settled onto the couch. Wendy the Werewolf Stalker played and they began stuffing themselves with food. The night wore on until they were out of food and halfway through Wendy’s first season. Kon lay drowsily on Tim’s shoulder while Tim curled the blanket around his feet.

“Tim?”

“Hmm?” Tim asked.

“Where do you want to patrol tomorrow?” Kon asked, yawning.

“What if we... didn’t patrol?”

Kon frowned and sat up, looking at him. “But you love to patrol.”

“And you don’t, and I also love you. This is an ‘us’ day, right? So let’s do something we both like. Maybe head down to the arcade.”

Kon smiled and kissed Tim gently. “I love you so much.”

Tim smiled and laid his head down in Kon’s lap, stretching out on the couch, his legs hanging over the end. “I love you too.”

[whispersandwhiskerburn]

Have You, Forever

Summary: The Reader and Dean finally decide to make their family official as Dean lets himself trust that this love, this life with her and their daughter, will last. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3,875 Warnings: So. Much. Fluff. Tiny bits of anxiety, but really. FLUFFY. SFW. Author’s Note:  This ends up outside of canon in plot, but I hope the characters are still canonical. Between the first fic and this sequel, I managed to work in all the lyrics of Glitter in the Air by P!nk—the result of a challenge/celebration I held for reaching 2k. This part of the story was planned as soon as I was given the prompt by @dancingalone21, and I meant to post this conclusion on the 22nd of September, Fluff Appreciation Day, but life got in the way. Thanks for all the feedback on part 1, “Have You Ever?” everyone, and if you haven’t read it, I recommend you do so before reading this. It’s not strictly necessary, but it will make more of an impact if you do. Also, this is the first time I’ve written Dean as an actual father with a child OC, so I’d love feedback.

It had to have been one of the happiest nights of your life.

You had known it was coming—honestly, it had taken way too long in your opinion. Dean’s baggage, his hunting, the raising of your daughter all seemed to delay the inevitable, but it had finally happened.

And you couldn’t have been more thrilled. Nothing could have made your night any better.

Except maybe this moment.

You had left your 3-year-old with her Uncle Sammy and Castiel while you and Dean had gone out. They were more than capable of watching over her, but since she had both of them wrapped around her little chubby toddler fingers, there was never any predicting what would happen while you were gone.

You and Dean leaned against the door jamb, silently laughing and watching the disastrous conclusion of the arts and crafts experiment Sam had been brave enough to try.

“Please, Samantha Grace? We’re trying to decorate the card for mommy—don’t you want to add more color instead?”

Samantha Grace refused to hand over the container of glitter, “no! Sparkles!”

Her guardian angel was sitting next to her, his head tilted quizzically, “Sam, why does she seem so attached to these colorful reflective pieces of plastic?”

You looked at Dean and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if you should step in and prevent the coming catastrophe. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around your midsection, his head resting next to yours as the two of you watched it unfold.

Sure enough, Samantha Grace started shaking the glitter tube vigorously, making a small mountain on the colored paper. Sam reached over and liberated the tube, but too late—her little fists were in the pile and moments later the sparkles were airborne.

Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?

“Ah, man! Samantha Grace, you’re covered in glitter!”

Castiel’s voice seemed slightly worried, “it seems we all are now…. Sam, does this stuff come off?”

“Sparkles!” Samantha Grace was already throwing more in the air, standing up to spin in her glitter storm, loving the way it fell around and on her.

Dean’s chuckle vibrated through your whole body and he placed a quick kiss on your temple before moving around you, bending to scoop up his daughter and swing her around as she squealed in excitement.

“Hey little monster! Have you been having fun with Uncle Sammy? Look at how sparkly you are!”

Sam and Cass stood up, trying unsuccessfully to brush the glitter off of themselves.

You laughed and walked into the room, taking Samantha from Dean when she reached out her arms to you. “We make a card for you, Mommy!”

“You did?!” You overdid your excitement, bending down while holding her to grab the colorful paper. You tilted it first to get the remains of the glitter pile and then opened it, oohing and ahhing at her drawing on the inside.

“This is so pretty, sweetie, thank you!”

“Is for you! Unka Sammy says Daddy took you on a special dinner. Did you have cake?” Her voice turned adorably suspicious, and you could tell she felt like she had been denied a treat. The smile on your face was so wide, you worried it was going to start to hurt your cheeks.

Unfortunately, your baby girl was getting to be a handful, so you put her down, your arms already straining beneath her. You worried sometimes about missing out on time with her—she was growing so fast! You still worked your job at the hospital and Samantha Grace alternated between day care and being watched by Mary here at home in the bunker. Mary had taken a haunting case yesterday and was due back early tomorrow morning.

You put the card back down and looked at Dean, whose grin was matching yours. You shelved your worries and focused on the happiness of your family—and the news you were about to share.

“No, baby, we didn’t have cake. But Daddy did have a surprise for me—he gave me a present. Isn’t it pretty?”

You held your hand out to your daughter who immediately grabbed it and stared at the ring that now sat securely on your left ring finger.

Dean had done well—it wasn’t a traditional ring. It was both practical and beautiful: flat, so you could wear it under hospital gloves, and the design was white gold with a small line of round white diamonds in the center of an infinity symbol that combined two hearts. It was romantic and wonderful and you cherished it as a symbol of the strong love between the two of you.

And of the future you had together.

You smiled up at Dean again, who was getting his back patted by his taller younger brother.

“I told you it was worth it to go to Jared’s.” Sam’s voice was smug and you laughed, standing up. Samantha was still staring at your ring, and you let her keep hold of your hand as you reached out to wrap Sam in a one-armed hug.

While you held him there, you whispered in his ear, “thanks for giving him the push he needed.”

Sam leaned back and winked, acknowledging your thanks.

You knew Dean had been stalling. Considering his history it was understandable—but you also knew that he had quite the romantic inner core. He believed in love and happily-ever-afters: he just didn’t think he’d ever get one.

You had decided more than three years ago when you walked away from your old boring life to be with Dean to make it your mission to change his mind about that. This was your first concrete proof that he had started to do so.

Cass walked up next, standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands and arms. “Congratulations to both of you—”

“Daddy, why did Mommy get a present? Is it her birfday?” Samantha Grace’s strident voice drowned out even Castiel’s gravel. We were still working on the concept of ‘inside voice’ with her.

Dean chuckled and bent down to pick her up again, “No, little monster, it’s not Mommy’s birthday. I got Mommy the special ring because I love her bunches and bunches and bunches—” he started tickling her with each repetition and she squealed delightedly, squirming in his arms and causing a shower of glitter to fall from her hair and clothes to the floor below.

“Alright munchkin, it’s bedtime—give everyone loves.”

Dean righted her and you caught a quick pout from your daughter at your announcement, but it was ruined by the wide yawn she gave a moment later.

Dean walked her around for her nightly ritual of giving everyone who was home a hug before bedtime: ‘giving loves’. She giggled at how sparkly Sam was and he indulgently shook his mane and sprinkled her in more sparkles. She gave Cass a kiss on his cheek and you watched as his normally stoic expression melted into one of adoration.

Samantha Grace had that effect on the two men she had been named after.

When it came time for your hug you took her and cuddled her close, breathing in the smell of your precious baby girl. You felt Dean lean in close, so you lifted your chin for a kiss from him, perfecting the moment.

“You want me to clean her up and put her to bed tonight?”

You nodded, switching her back to her father’s arms once more. She was getting really sleepy now, already half past the point of oblivion, and she tucked her head against Dean’s shoulder while you picked a few pieces of glitter off of his shirt with a grin.

“Good luck with that first part.” You stepped up on your tip toes to kiss your new fiancé and the love of your life again. “And afterwards, let’s take advantage of the beginning of the end.” He raised an eyebrow and you explained, “the hourglass is on the table now. You’ll be making an honest woman out of me soon enough, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean laughed softly and tucked your hair behind your ear before turning and walking out of the room with Samantha.  You watched them go with a happy sigh before turning to hunt down a broom for the floor.

Two months later

Why in Chuck’s name were you so nervous?

You’d been looking forward to this moment for years—the moment when you could yell to the entire world that you loved Dean Winchester, and he loved you back, and make it completely official that he was yours and no one else’s.

You were wearing an elegantly simple but gorgeous dress. Your friends and family—by love, not blood—were waiting for you outside under a starry sky, and you were quaking in your dress shoes about walking out in front of them all to say your vows.

What was wrong with you?

“Hey, Y/N, you got a lot of twitchy hunters out here waiting for—what’s wrong?” Jody’s face went serious when she got a good look at yours.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, your pulse pounding.

“I think—I don’t know what’s wrong with me Jody!”

She was there beside you in an instant, this sheriff/hunter who had become your best friend over the last few years. Since both of you were no-nonsense emergency personnel and strong mothers who cared for hunters and took care of them as best as you could—you’d bonded almost immediately.

Jody had you by the forearms, turning you away from the floor length mirror you’d propped beside the door to look straight at her.

“Breathe, Y/N. Deep breaths, sweetie…. That’s it… in… out….”

You synced your breaths with hers, trying to tune out the panic bolting through you. What the hell was wrong with you?

“It’s going to be fine, Y/N. It’s just pre-wedding jitters—every bride gets them at some point.”

Mary came in next, looking strange in a knee-length light blue dress instead of her usual denim and flannel, and shutting the doors behind her.

You ignored her, focusing on your breathing.

“Y/N? Jody, what’s wrong with her? She’s pale as her dress!” She hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen without waiting for a response, and was back a minute later with a large glass of water.

You took it gratefully, gulping down half of it in one go.

“Just a little anxious about taking the walk. She was practically hyper-ventilating when I walked in.”

Mary nodded, and a look of understanding passed between the two women.

You licked your lips, swallowing the fear before the phrase, “have you ever felt this way?”

Mary produced a tissue from a stash she’d apparently squirreled away for later and began dabbing at the makeup around your eyes. You hadn’t realized you’d smeared anything, but apparently you had.

“Oh yes, honey. I forced John to get married in Reno and I was still nervous as hell.”

Jody laughed, taking the glass of water from you and moving behind you to fix whatever you had done to your hair.

“I had the more traditional wedding—small town, church, white dress, big family, the whole shebang. I was a full bridezilla making sure everything went well, way worse than you… but when I saw Sean at the end of the aisle…” She walked around to look you in the eye again and there was still muted pain in her eyes as she thought of her husband who had died many years ago when she was first introduced to the supernatural.

“Well, when I saw him—my nerves took a back seat. I’m betting it will be the same for you when you see Dean out on the grass tonight.”

You smiled, shaky but genuine at the image in your head. You’d seen Dean in his tux and it was certainly enough to distract you from any nerves you were feeling right now.

“I think I’ll be okay now.” You looked back and forth at these two wonderful women, finding their hands and squeezing, “thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“It’s what family does, sweetheart.”

Jody backed towards the door and nodded once more. “I’m going to go play the march music, give me one minute, then you two follow, okay?”

Mary nodded, and you focused on your breathing, making sure you didn’t get worked up again.

“Thanks for walking me down the aisle, Mary. I haven’t had parents since I was very young, so you…” You coughed, clearing your throat and changed topics. You couldn’t afford to get upset. You had only seconds left. “I know it means a lot to Dean too, having you here.”

Mary hugged you gently, being careful not to muss your hair and makeup.

“Y/N, you are a blessing in this family—the way you make Dean so happy. And the way you let me help you with Samantha Grace. I may have missed out on raising my boys, but I’m glad you’re the mother of my granddaughter… and I am proud to claim you as my daughter.”

“Stop it, Mary, you’re going to make me cry.”

She chuckled and linked your arm in hers. “Well, we can’t have that. Let’s go, Y/N.”

And she led the way through the bunker doors and up the three concrete stairs to the road where Baby was parked.

Apparently someone, probably Sam, had decided to ignore Dean’s threats and window chalk “Just Married” on the back window anyway—at least he hadn’t tied cans or anything to the bumper.

The sun was setting, right on schedule, and the colors in the sky were beautiful. It was absolutely perfect.

You let Mary pull you gently across the road to the empty lot opposite the doors—a field that was usually open grass pasture but was now decorated with poles and electric lights, a smooth aisle made of garden pathway stones placed end to end with the guest arranged on either side in white plastic chairs. There were light blue flower petals sprinkled across the stones—courtesy of your daughter, who had been eager to be the flower girl at the ceremony.

As you stepped onto the stones with Mary’s hand on your arm, linked by your elbows, you vaguely recognized the music playing through the discreet speakers as Pachelbel’s Cannon in D and the fact that all the guests were standing as you passed.

Most of them were hunters, some were people from the hospital that you worked at, and at that moment, they could have been dancing naked in front of you.

You weren’t paying them any attention.

Your eyes were fixed on the end of your path where Sam and Dean had assembled a wedding arch that you had spent hours decorating with flowers and vines over the last few days.

Castiel was standing in the middle, having agreed to officiate the service—rather reluctantly. You couldn’t think of any person in the world you would rather have do it though, and Dean had convinced him to go through with it.

Sam was standing to one side, opposite of Jody. He was tall and radiating happiness, but he wasn’t the one your eyes focused on.

They were locked on Dean.

He was standing between the two men, his brothers, and his eyes were locked on yours as well—the expression on his face enough to literally take your breath away.

Suddenly walking down the path didn’t seem difficult at all. The way you felt—it might as well have been the walk before the run.

Your legs weren’t shaky. Your palms weren’t sweaty.

At that moment, you could have laughed for the joy welling inside you. If you hadn’t been wearing a dress, you would have considered doing cartwheels the rest of the way down the aisle.

Your attention was dragged away from Dean only for a moment, when you heard Samantha Grace calling to you from the front row.

“I poured out all the flowers, Mommy!”

Donna, who had volunteered to watch her during the ceremony, seemed embarrassed, but your little girl was very proud of herself. You gave her a thumbs up in acknowledgment as the crowd chuckled.

Then you were there. And Mary was placing your hand in Dean’s before going to sit beside her granddaughter.

Castiel was talking for a solid minute before you came out of your daze. The anxiety was back in full force, and if Dean hadn’t had your hands gripped solidly in his own, you probably would have fallen down or run away.

Everyone was staring at you.

What were you supposed to do? Castiel was still talking.

“I have lived a long time—longer than it would seem if you looked at me. I’ve learned many things in my time about relationships and the bonds that form between people. A marriage is a more formal bond than the one that Dean and Y/N currently hold—but as a close personal friend of both the bride and the groom, I can say with complete confidence that the bond that is between them is already stronger and more enduring than the ones that form between most couples.

“It is a bond which has withstood distance, danger, and uncertainty. They have brought a beautiful soul into the world in the form of their daughter, and they have worked together to raise her in the best way possible, despite their challenging careers which both make the world a better place in different ways.”

Castiel looked to Jody and Sam now, who both stepped forward.

“These witnesses, and the guests that have gathered to celebrate with you today, have come to witness this union of love between the two of you.

“Do you, Dean Winchester, take this woman to be your lawfully married wife?”

“I do.” Dean’s voice was strong and proud. You swallowed, hoping you could match him in this.

“Do you, Y/F/N Y/L/N, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” You sounded surprisingly normal.

You had practiced this with all of them multiple times. Next came the vows. You and Dean had kept yours secret from each other, saving them as a surprise for now. Dean was first.

“Y/N, you are an amazing woman and mother. You make me happy in ways that I never knew I could be. My life was never going to be ordinary, but since you came into it, each day is more extraordinary than the next, and I don’t know what I could have possibly done to deserve to have you in my life. I vow tonight to always do my best to make sure you never regret sharing your life with me. I love you, Sugar.”

You licked your lips and smiled, then took a breath and recited what you had memorized for Dean.

“Dean, from the moment you first knocked on my door four years ago, I was lost. You are a hero, not just to me, but to the entire world, but you still chose to be with me. I am so thankful for the strength and love you give to me and our daughter so freely, and I look forward to returning that love for the rest of my life. I vow tonight to always give you my love unconditionally, no matter what challenges the world and our lives may throw at us.”

He squeezed your hands and you were lost in his green eyes for a moment before Castiel prompted you to repeat after him:

“I promise to be honest, faithful, and supportive of you and our family in sickness and in health, for better or worse, as long as we both shall live.”

Dean repeated it too.

It felt like everything was moving so fast.

Sam was handing Dean a ring, and he was sliding it on next to your engagement ring.

Jody handed you the simple band and you tried to keep from shaking as you slid it on Dean’s finger.

He was almost at the end now.

“By the power vested in me by the God of the universe, and by the state of Kansas, I now officially pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss each other.”

This was it. It was official—it was the breath before the kiss, and then Dean’s lips were on yours, and your hands were around his neck, and you forgot your nervousness again.

Sam and Jody only gave the two of you a moment to enjoy it before throwing the rice. Dean stepped back and the two of you reluctantly turned to smile at the photographer.

Samantha Grace wiggled away from Donna and Mary and came running up to be in the photo so you and Dean posed again with her. He picked her up and carried her in one arm back to his mother, his other hand gripping yours tightly as you walked to the right of the arch where Sam and Dean had assembled the remaining garden tiles to create a small dance floor.

Garth, their former hunter-werewolf friend, served as the DJ along with his lovely wife Bess. You trusted her judgment more than Garth’s.

The sun had fully set now, leaving the summer night to descend—the stars and a 3/4 moon were out to help the electric fairy lights you had so painstakingly hung throughout the area. It had all come together so well—but you didn’t stop to admire your success.

Have you ever wished for an endless night? Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?

Even though you were looking forward to having him to yourself later, a part of you wished you never had to leave his arms as he pulled you onto the dance floor.

Dean pulled you close and his gravel voice was in your ear. “Y/N, are you okay, babe? You’re really quiet.”

You smiled at him and pulled him closer. “I’m perfect right now, Dean. I have you.”

He squeezed you tight then placed his hands carefully to begin the first traditional dance. “And I have you, forever.”

Garth and Bess queued up the first song, one that Dean had insisted on: “My Lady Soul” by the Temptations. He knew you loved it.

The two of you had practiced this dance too—and Dean had the natural rhythm to make it flow beautifully now. So much so that when he moved closer to you and began to sing softly to you as you danced on, it was still easy to keep the steps.

“I'm ready to surrender, my love, lay it all in your hands, give you my forever, everything I am....”

“Forever indeed, Mr. Winchester.”

You spun out and caught a glimpse of Sam dancing with Mary, of Castiel holding Samantha Grace, of your friends and family all enjoying themselves, and then you were back in Dean’s arms and he was taking your breath away again with the intensity of his gaze.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

And he was kissing you again, right there in the middle of the dance floor, and in that moment, everything was as perfect as any happily ever after could ever hope to be.

Not enough fluffy for you? Don’t worry…I’m planning on picking up this story once more. Dean’s going to carry that first dance song into the bedroom to celebrate their honeymoon. Look for the fic, “Forever After” and all its fluffy goodness. :)

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[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Couldn’t Without You

This was for a friend in need, @beckawinchester. She asked the ‘verse and the ‘verse answered. I hope this makes you smile after your hectic day.

Warnings: Fluff & Smut Word Count: 1730 Characters: Dean x Becka, Sam A/N: This kinda got away from me, but this is what I was feeling so ... hope you enjoy. Also, this is unbeta’d, so any mistakes are my own. And - no other reason for this gif other than... ungh.

It had been one hell of a long day, and as much as I loved the kids, I loved home more, especially when my boyfriend and his brother were due back. I pulled into the driveway and sure enough, there was Baby, sleek and impressive. I pushed my way inside and dumped my bags, following the squabbling.

“I’ll go when I get to say hi, she’s a human not a bit of property, Dean.” Sam chided, I could imagine what Dean had said. “My boys!” I chimed wearily as I walked through to the kitchen, opening my arms wide for whoever reached me first. Just as if I was back at work, they got to me at the same time, Sam throwing shade as Dean grumbled, kissing my cheek as Sam tucked under my other arm, both bent to fit. “How was your day, Becka?” Sam asked, Dean nudging him from my grasp and pulling me to his chest. I chuckled lightly and nodded. “Yeah, good, but seeing you both is better.” Dean pulled back and pouted at me, his brow furrowing. “Me more, though, right?” He asked, sounding just like one of the little munchkins I looked after. I sighed and pecked his lips in answer. “How are you, Sam? How was the hunt?” I slipped out of Dean’s grasp and made my way to the fridge, Sam taking a seat at the kitchen counter. “Few scrapes, but we got him-it.” He quickly amended, they both knew I didn’t like when the monsters were referred to as human. It made me feel better when I thought about them ridding the world of evil, not eviscerating the poor people that were used as a source. “What was it in the end?” I asked, fetching a Dr. Pepper and two bottles of beer out, placing the bottles in front of the boys. “A rugaru.” Dean answered, twisting the top off his beer and winking at me. “Job well done then, cheers.” I raised my can and took a sip, sighing at the taste. It always marked the end of a week when I heard that click and fizz of a freshly opened Dr. Pepper. “See you later, Sammy.” I hugged him tight and kissed his cheek, whispering my thanks before letting him leave. “What’s for dinner?” I asked as I waved Sam off, closing the door and turning to Dean. The older Winchester was on me in less than a moment, his lips to mine, his hand caressing my neck, fingertips dancing at my hairline as the other held my hip against the door. His tongue smoothed over the inside of my bottom lip, coaxing my tongue to join his. I hummed into his mouth when his hand started to travel north from my hip, both of us content with a slow and easy pace of shared welcomes. Then my stomach growled. “Dinner first,” Dean sighed, his breath tickling my cheeks as I nodded and pecked his lips once more. I tried to maneuver around him only to have him latch onto my waist, pulling me back to his chest and waddling me to the kitchen. “Take a seat, precious, I’ve got this.” He murmured into my ear, I rounded the bench and grabbed another can of pop before being shooed to the other side of the bench. I savoured the sight in front of me, Dean Winchester cooking in my kitchen, just for me!

“That was delicious, babe. Thank you!” I took his bowl out of his lap and stacked it with mine, putting it to the side, replacing it with me instead. “What about dessert?” His question was muffled against my lips. I sat back on his knees and exaggerated a pout. “Aren’t I sweet enough?” I whimpered, feigning my best hurt face and voice. He leaned forward, scooping me up, making me squeal as he stood. “Oh darling, you’re as good as pie!” His head dipped to my neck and his lips brushed over my pulse point making me shiver. “Cause I taste just as good with ice cream?” “You have no idea,” he growled against my neck, before dropping me onto the bed. I bounced a few times, knees wide from where they’d been around Dean’s waist. I watched him unbutton his plaid shirt before I sat forward and pushed his undershirt up so I could plant feather-light kisses to the little happy trail. I felt the shirt disappear from my fingers and I looked up at the half naked man in front of me. The small bumps from where his ribs stuck out just a little too far, the podge of his stomach, but the muscles that rippled underneath, everything made him perfect. Roving my eyes further up; his pink nipples, the symbolic tattoo, the shoulders, the Adams apple that was currently bobbing, then his smile, the smile that brightened his whole face and pronounced his lust blown eyes. Dean was stood between my legs at the edge of the bed, I trailed my hands up his thighs and to his belt buckle, feeling the push of his erection against his jeans, I slowly slid the belt through the loop, never breaking eye contact. He cupped my jaw and stroked my cheek with his thumb as I pulled his belt free and pushed his pants and briefs down his legs. “You’re beautiful.” My Winchester growled, kneeling down in front of me, his fingers splayed over my knees as he worked his way up my legs to the hem of my blouse, bundling it in his grasp, letting his knuckles drag over the soft skin of my stomach before pulling the material over my head. My dark brown hair fell about my face at its release from the collar, Dean’s calloused digits brushed it back, finding my eyes searching for his. Dean’s lips were an inch from mine while his hands bumped over my ribcage to my back, unclasping my bra and pulling it from my arms, letting it fall to the floor next to us. I smiled as I tenderly pressed my lips to his, and just like we were magnets, as I lie back, he followed, unable to let his lips leave mine. He lay next to me and pushed at my jeans, I lifted my bum to help his mission. Finally free from the confines of clothes, he pulled me on top of him, feeling his erection against my stomach, between us, I broke the kiss and smiled as he whined. Sitting up in his lap, I took his length in my hand, running my thumb along the underside, tracing the vein, circling the tip, drawing a hiss from between his gritted teeth. I held him to my folds and slid along him experimentally, this time a moan. “Baby… so wet,” he breathed, his fingers encircling my bicep, he pulled me back to his lips, rolling us over, his erection throbbed against my hip as he lay to the side, allowing his fingers freedom to move to my aching core. I was wet and ready for him, the rough of his finger pad circled over my clit causing me to arch of the bed in anticipation. “Dean, no foreplay, please,” I begged, I just wanted to be full of him. And as ever, Dean the giver, granted my request, he hovered over me, kissing and sucking and nipping at my lips, neck, jaw, collarbone. I reached between us and lined him up, helping him stay as he pushed into me, then he was home. We both sighed, unaware that we’d needed this from the second we’d seen each other that afternoon. I ran my heel over his calf, up the back of his thigh, digging into his ass, urging him to fill me further, to bury himself within me. And he did just that, for a second, before pulling out to the tip, then plunging back in. He repeated, slow and with purpose, his eyes boring into my face as he watched my mouth fall open into an O, my head tilt back slightly, my chest rise and fall a little faster than before. The speed built, the pressure climbed, the promising waves of release were swelling between us, threatening to crash and drag us both under. Dean’s breath comes out in grunts and groans against my lips and in return he was drawing from me sweet gasps and purrs of his name. “I’m…” He murmurs, his muscles quivering, his arms shaking as he holds himself over me. “Please,” I respond. His thrusts are erratic and his rhythm stutters but he reaches down between us and circles at the cluster of nerves between my lips. With one final thrust that pushes the air from my lungs, he’s coating my walls with ropes of his cum, and as if a flash bang had gone off, I’m seeing white. Dean holds his finger against my clit, though my instinct is to push him away, he stills, causing wave after wave of muscle spasms, the clench and release that I have no control over. Dean smiled as my aftershocks slowed and stopped. He pressed a kiss to my lips, slow and lazy. “Got it all figured, don’t you?” I panted as he rolled to my side, his head collapsing next to mine on the pillow. “I love when you do that.” He joked, reaching toward my pelvis, I grabbed his hand and placed it over my breast, a comfortability between us, a gesture that didn’t lead to another round of sex, unlike pornos. “I love you.” It was too late to recant, it was out in the air, no way to stop it from floating above the two of you, gloating in the awkward silence. Dean rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyes searching yours as his palm left your still pert nipple and travelled to cup the side of your face. “Becka, I couldn’t live without you.” It wasn’t the same, it was more. He wouldn’t live without Sam, he wouldn’t be here without Cass, but … I closed the distance between him and kissed his plump, red lips, licking at his top lip before he moved away, tutting his disapproval. “There are other lips that need attention!” He said with a smirk, billowing out the sheets before disappearing underneath them.

Tagging friends: @whispersandwhiskerburn @redlipstickandplaid @impala-dreamer @jalove-wecallhimdean @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @melonberri @avasmommy224 @wayward-mirage @waywardjoy @wi-deangirl77 @sdavid09 @ellexirmalfoy @bringmesomepie56 @babypieandwhiskey @kristaparadowski @gabby913 @charliebradbury1104 @blacktithe7 @thegreatficmaster @impala-dreamer @mrswhozeewhatsis @i-like-your-assbutt @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @chaos-and-the-calm67 @frenchybell @chvalkenberg95 @ackleholic-hunter @green-love-red-fantasyhearts @impalaimagining @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @lucifer-in-leather @manawhaat @nichelle-my-belle @lipstickandwhiskey @grace-for-sale @hasta-impalasta @hideyourdemoneyes @oriona75 @ilostmyshoe-79 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @kazchester-fanfiction @ellen-reincarnated1967 @autopistaaningunaparte  @mogaruke @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @purgatoan @clairese1980 @jensen-jarpad @ruprecht0420 @dancingalone21 @impalaimagining

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Unacceptable - unforgiven series

Characters: Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, bits of Damian and Dick Summary: It was funny, in the sad way, that Tim needed reminded that Damian wasn’t the only one being hurt. A/N: A few days after Unwelcome. Not implying the girls weren’t also hurt by what Dick and Bruce did, but they were much more open with their emotions/each other/Barbara and their friends. Whereas Tim shut down and put all his energy into caring for and protecting Damian. Tim was a little ball of stress since Dick left their flat, and the girls called him up for a day out for this very reason, basically.

Unforgiven series.

~~

Tim leaned his head back, staring up at the clouds. “…Have I mentioned I hate this?”

Cass and Steph both laughed, and it made him feel better. Just a little.

“The situation as a whole,” Steph asked slowly, leaning into Tim’s side and squeezing his arm. “Or the little munchkin hitching a ride on your back?”

Tim glanced back. Damian’s arms were still loose around his neck, cheek pillowed against the curve of his shoulder as he slept their afternoon outing away. Damian didn’t want to come, not really. But where Tim went, Damian went. That was the child’s rule nowadays, and Tim didn’t have the heart to push him off that protective path.

(Besides, he felt the same towards his little brother. Especially now. Especially after recent days, where when alone, Damian sought the ones who hurt him most, and Tim would not have that again.)

But despite it all, Damian was still just a kid. And after an afternoon of walking, shopping and eating, he was exhausted. Not to mention the evening crowds were becoming unusually heavy, and it was making Tim nervous.

(Damian wasn’t the only one with a protective streak for his brother after all.)

And it was a testament to how far the two of them had come, everyone would say, that when Tim tugged on Damian’s arm and swung him up onto his back, Damian didn’t complain. Damian didn’t fight or throw barbs. Just wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, and hooked his chin over his brother’s shoulder.

The only thing the kid did was maybe take a bit too much glee in poking Tim in the face, or tugging gently at his hair when he wanted attention, or to interject.

It wasn’t long after that though, that Damian fell gently to sleep, lulled to rest just by listening to his elders chat about menial and unimportant things. And they all felt the same about that – felt grateful and relieved, that Damian trusted them enough to let his guard down this much to do such a childish act.

Tim smiled, and repositioned his arms under Damian’s legs as he glanced knowingly back at Steph. “The former, obviously.”

Cass leaned into his other side, mimicking Steph’s hold on his elbow. “Talk it out.”

Tim inhaled, and exhaled sharply. Paused to make sure the movement didn’t stir Damian, and pursed his lips.

“I hate this,” He repeated. “I hate this I think, because I don’t know what to do.”

The girls waited.

“Bruce says it’s not Dick’s fault, that it’s all his.” Tim mumbled. “But I’m still…doggone furious at both of them regardless. And as much as I try to protect Damian from this whole mess, he’s caught in the middle, because despite everything, he’s much more forgiving than I am, and he wants to see Dick, and probably his father, but doesn’t want to upset or alienate me in the process.”

“So…” Steph drawled. “The biggest problem is…”

Tim dropped his head back again, stared up at the clouds. “…I just don’t want them to hurt him again.”

“Oh?”

“At least…” Another exhale. “As morbid as it is, at least when my parents died, they stayed dead. But Bruce died, and came back. Talia died, and came back, Dick, his pseudo-dad, lied about dying, and came back. Then Bruce went off and died and came back again.” Cass could tell Tim was getting mad once more, and squeezed his arm comfortingly. “I just…I’m sick of them treating him like this. Acting like it’s fine. Apologizing, and running off and doing it again anyway, like the sorry makes it all better.”

“…They’re doing this to you, too.” Cass reminded.

Tim grinned at her, and it was bitter. “Yeah, but I’m not ten years old.”

“But you’re still their son and their brother.” Steph pushed. “And, I think Damian would agree with us and say, that he’s not the more important one here.”

“Neither am I.” Tim countered.

“No, I mean…” Steph huffed. “You’re both equally important. You’ve both been equally hurt. You can’t do all these things with only Damian in mind, and ignore the toll it’s taking on you.”

“Why not? I have before.” Tim smiled bitterly again, but neither girl returned it. After a moment, he sighed. “I’ve just been…ignoring it seems to be the best option right now.”

“It’s the best option until it’s not.” Steph hummed. “And now, it’s not.”

“So what do I do?” Tim asked. “Because if I meet with them, if I meet with Dick, you know as well as I do that I’ll probably forgive him on the spot. And I can convince myself to forgive him for Damian’s sake, but I have a feeling that that’s not going to be good enough for you.”

“Good.” Cass returned. “Because it is not.”

“Maybe…okay, how about this.” Steph tried. “Take Damian out of the equation. Pretend, for five seconds, he doesn’t exist. He wasn’t the one hurt and betrayed and left behind, okay? Pretend it was just you, that Dick and B did this to, and think about what you would want if that was the case.”

“I’d still want to ignore it. Ignore them.” Tim decided.

“And after that?” Steph asked. “Because there’s no way you’d want to ignore them forever. You can’t ignore anything forever. I know you, you let things eat away at you.”

“I’m doing a fine job right now.”

“You’re doing a fine job of ignoring them because you’re distracting yourself with your brother. And I told you, in this scenario he doesn’t exist.” Steph repeated. “So. What do you want?”

“I’d…” Tim sighed. “I don’t know, I guess I’d want to know why. Why they did this, why they thought it was okay. I’d want to scream in their faces, and maybe punch them.”

“…It can be arranged.” Cassandra offered.

Tim laughed, but continued. “I’d…I don’t know, want them to pay? Like…not give them what they want, at all. They’d want to talk? I’d avoid them. They want a hug, or affection? I keep my distance.”

“…Punish them?” Cassandra asked.

“…Yeah, I think so.” Tim hummed. “Just. Be the biggest jerk in the world, for a while.”

“Just a while?” Steph questioned. “Not forever?”

“…Of course not.” Tim sighed. “…Maybe it’s time I listen to what they have to say, huh?”

“You did say you never wanted to see them again.” Steph reminded. “And you were debating leaving Gotham.”

“Not seriously.” Tim admitted. “Look, why can’t I just worry about Damian? It’s much simpler when I do that. It’s easier to make decisions.”

“Because you are important too.” Cassandra murmured, squeezing Tim’s arm.

“And besides, it’s clearly not, because he called Dick behind your back.” Steph countered. “And that’s what started this whole thing.”

“…Yeah.” Tim exhaled, focusing on the weight against his spine. On the little boy who had been hurt far too many times, and on the one Tim refused to let be hurt again. “Though, I guess if I were in his position, I’d have done the same.”

“What, you’d have not told your guardian you were going to go find the one person you were both avoiding?” Steph drawled. “Could have fooled me.”

“…So what do I do?” Tim asked, looking at Cass instead. “I mean…do I talk to him about it? About what he wants? Because we didn’t talk after Dick left the other night. And the morning after we both just acted like it didn’t happen. Or, do I just make decisions on my own, based on what I think he needs?”

Cass smiled. “You decide based on what you need, too.”

“I need Damian safe and stable. And maybe happy.” Tim grinned back. “How’s that?”

“Terrible.” Steph sighed. “Come on, Tim, don’t be difficult.”

“Sorry, sorry, I…I know you mean well, guys, I just.” Tim exhaled, shifted Damian again. “…I just…I don’t know. What to do, or what I want.”

“…And that’s fair.” Steph conceded. “But just. Do what you always do. Like Cass said, think it through.”

“Out loud, if it…helps.” Cass reminded.

“…I just want Damian safe.” Tim said definitively. “And I want to be…happy. Stable.” A pause to sigh. “I want my brother and my dad.”

“Mhm.” Steph prompted. “But?”

“But…they fucked up.” Tim murmured. “They lied, and I’m furious about it. And I…don’t want to forgive them. Not even for Damian, just for myself, I…don’t want to forgive them. …Yet.”

“But?” Steph hummed again.

“But…I know if I meet up with them. If we actually speak face to face, I’ll let everything go.” Tim admitted. “I’ll forget every shitty thing they ever did, and let them get away with hurting me again. With hurting Damian again.”

“Well we definitely can’t have that.” Steph agreed.

“And then…Damian will want to come. If I’m meeting with one of them, he’ll want to come too. Not to see them, but to protect me, because he’s…he’s a better fucking kid than any of us ever gave him credit for.” Tim sighed. “And they’ll…manipulate him. They won’t mean to, they might even try not to, but. They will. They’ll manipulate him into bottling up all of his emotions again, and into him coming home, and never speaking of this again. And Bruce and Dick will have the gall to think that, just because he isn’t talking about it, everything is a-okay again, and it won’t be. Damian will know it won’t be, I’ll know it won’t be. Hell, Jason will probably know it won’t be, but none of us will say a goddamn word about it because it’s Bruce and Dick.”

Pause.

“…And we missed them too much to let on how much we all still hate this.” Tim finished sadly. “How much they fucked us up.” Another stop. “And right now, it’s just…it’s easier to scream in their faces to go away than actually sit down and try talk about it.”

“What, you really think they don’t know any of that?” Steph scoffed. “I mean, okay, Bruce is dense. But not that dense. And Dick isn’t that dense at all.”

“Then why did he think staying away from Damian after he was resurrected was okay?” Tim countered. “He knows how much Damian…downright adores him. He knows how much that would kill this kid all over again, believing he was dead. And he comes back and acts like he didn’t? What the hell?”

“…Slow.” Cass suggested quietly.

“I agree.” Steph nodded. “Take it slow, then. Maybe…maybe meet up with Dick when Damian’s at school. Then do it again. And a few more times after that. When you finally get to the point that you don’t feel like you’ll punch him on site, start bringing Damian along. Supervised visits, to see how Dick handles it. To see how Damian handles it.”

“Then over again.” Cass added. “With Bruce.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Steph hummed. “Dick first, then Bruce. Not together.”

“God, that’s just…” Tim sighed, looked back at Damian. “That’s a whole other can of worms.”

“…I noticed.” Cass quipped. “Damian called Dick. Not Bruce.”

“You and me both, sister.” Tim pursed his lips. “That’s…that’s going to be…Well. If we’re going to do this, we definitely need to start with Dick, and Dick only.”

“But. Tell.” Cass pushed. “Tell Damian. When. Where.”

“Keep him in the loop. Do what he didn’t.” Steph nodded. “…We’ll help. Cass and me. We’ll help you and squirt through this.”

“I know you will.” Tim smiled, leaning his head on Steph’s shoulder. “You gals are the best like that.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Mr. Drake. I thought I taught you that already.” Steph grinned, though, shoving an elbow into Tim’s side. Tim laughed, genuine, and it was music to the girls’ ears. “Do you…want to call him now? Or think about your schedule, or when you’d want to meet up?”

“Or talk to Damian?” Cass added.

Tim hummed, slowing his steps until he was stopped completely, in the middle of the path, in the middle of the park. Baby brother asleep on his back, the sounds of the city all around him.

“…No. Now.” Tim decided. Suddenly sounding nervous. “I need to do it now. Because if I don’t, if I wait to talk to Damian about it, I’ll change my mind. I’ll get mad all over again and I’ll change my mind, and maybe instead decide that that ‘never speaking to them forever’ thing was a more legit option.”

Without warning Tim was shifting to the side, letting Damian’s arm slide off his shoulder. Cass was immediately there, taking the sleeping boy from his arms, shifting him onto her back instead. Damian didn’t wake.

In the same movement of releasing Damian, Tim pulled his phone from his pocket, taking a deep inhale as he stared at it.

After a moment, Steph put her hand on Tim’s shoulder and squeezed.

“We’re here for you, Tim.” She promised. Cass nodded. “You can do this.”

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat, quickly hitting the speed dial he still had for Dick, before he could back out.

He found himself holding his breath, even as he held the phone to his ear. The phone rang. Once, twice, three times. He glanced over at Cassandra. At Damian specifically, who was still asleep and innocent and none the wiser.

If Dick didn’t answer, he didn’t know if he’d be strong enough to call again.

But suddenly the ringing stopped, and heard a fumbling on the other side. He still didn’t dare breathe.

“Hello?” Dick was there instantly, loud and nervous himself. And of course, he’d see that it was Tim calling. “Tim? Buddy? You okay? Everything okay?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tim murmured in an exhale, keeping his eyes on Damian, even as he felt Steph running her hand down his spine in comfort. “Yeah I was just calling to…to see if you…uh…”

He trailed off, and there was dead air for a second.

“You can do this.” Steph whispered. “Think about what’s best for you, right now.”

“…Tim?” Dick asked carefully.

“…Do you have any time later this week that we can meet for coffee?” Tim asked quietly. Dick didn’t say anything right away, but Tim knew he was probably surprised, had probably gone rigid.

But Tim kept his gaze on Damian. Kept his thoughts on why he was doing this, who he was doing this for. The most important person – to him – in this whole equation, despite Stephanie and Cassandra’s urging otherwise.

“…I think it’s time you and I talked.”

[digitaldiaryofthedeparted]

Paper Angles Pt. 1

Life, they tell us, started with single celled organisms that blossomed and grew over millions and millions of years until somehow we started talking about the weather and yodeling. Don’t ask me how we got here because I can’t tell you. And that’s exactly how I answer my final biology exam question before the bell rings. I grab my bag and turn in my poor crumpled, coffee stained, doodle infested paper into the bin. My essay is being teased by the other perfect essays, I can hear its cries as I am practically trampled as I fight to exit the classroom. I am a bad essay mother. One of my friends, Donn, comes up to me muttering something in Japanese, a language which she was determined to learn for no apparent reason. By now I somehow miraculously understand her odd foreign mutterings. “Uh, sure, I guess we can go out for lunch. I could always get more coffee…” I rattle my nearly empty cup at her and she frowns. “Seriously man. Your heart is going to explode from a caffeine overdose one of these days and I’m not going to be there to save you.” “Noted.” Cass looks, as always, somehow frightened as she sees us, like she’s half expecting one of us to grow a second head or something. “Off to lunch?” “Yep, want to come?” She half smiles and nods as she looked at the ground. I swear she’s so awkwardly adorable. I sigh as I pass by one of the teachers surveying the grounds. When I first met her I could have sworn she was Them. Diablo, Donn’s boyfriend comes up to her and embraces her in a large bear hug. Donn has this rather annoying habit of crying to me about her boyfriends then never listening when I want to talk about Them, so I silently cringe as I remember her midnight freak out last night. I’ve never been good with advice, and certainly not relationships, I only realized I was in love with my best friend oh… Five years too late? “So, Joy,” says Diablo in a surprisingly deep voice for someone his size, “how was the bio exam?” “Oh, it was… Something.” I bite my tongue to avoid giving a smart ass retort as I usually do. I notice that I have a rather small child attached to my side. “Oh. Hello, Faith.” I force a smile. I promise I’m not usually this irritable. “Joy, you look lovely as ever!” I’m not entirely sure why exactly, but in our town of population 2,000 every even slightly queer girl 6th through 9th grade is in love with me. It’s horrifying. I have packs of love struck munchkins following me everywhere. “Uh, thanks.” Faith ran her hair over her new pixie cut. Both her brothers are my friends, I see them occasionally. Trying to fill the awkward silence that has already passed somewhere within the deep recesses of my brain a tiny voice desperately grasp at this information. “W-where’s your brother?!” My voice sounds small. I can tell that Faith is sad that I asked that. I’m sorry, but little lesbian 12 year olds kind of scare me. Them girls be cray cray (dramatic flashback to being trapped in the back of a van with 3 of them on the way to a camp. They literally pinned me down and tickled me.) “Joy!” I freak out as another one of my tiny stalkers comes running, this time at least she’s a freshman. “Come. On.” I grab Donn by the shirt and dash away, leaving Cass to ponder what just happened and why she was suddenly standing amongst hormonal tweenagers. Diablo and Cass catch up with us as we get to Circle K. Frankly I’d much rather be in the band room, but what’s a girl to do? I refill my coffee cup and get a pack of pre shelled sunflower seeds, a snack that I’ve recently become obsessed with. You know how unicorns excrete rainbows? Yeah, for me it’s sunflower seeds and coffee. I spray Moonlight Path over me as a creepy guy who keeps staring at me approaches, effectively suffocating him so he has to switch aisles. I palm the small pin that I keep in my bag as we leave. The last memory of Them that I have. What I wouldn’t do.