#but might start also using 'tea dad and coffee son' on my original posts about them

[italyveneziano]

As someone who loves this interpretation of their relationship I'm all for having a tag for it, it'd be easier to seek it out for those who like it too!

Might be worth pointing out though that, to my knowledge, "tea dad n coffee son" is just my personal tag for the two of them, so I'm not sure how widespread it is 😅

A tag i've seen used more often is "atlantic bros", which I think is more of a general platonic America and England tag, but I've seen it used for specifically father/son takes on their dynamic a few times too.

I've been using that since I was under the impression that it was the generally agreed upon tag for their platonic relationship, but I'd also be totally fine with using "tea dad and coffee son" too for stuff specifically portraying them as father and son!

For those who headcanon England as America's dad, "tea dad n coffee son" seems to be the tag for this interpretation.

There's no need to use the tag when it's simply ambiguous, but if you're specifically using terms like "dad" and "son" then please use it!

I am respectfully requesting so I can better avoid this type of content, as the interpretation makes me rather uncomfortable.

[largedenominationsplease]

you’d come over, right?

Summary: A year after Kiara and JJ broke up, they come home to the Outer Banks to deal with one of the hardest years of their lives.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: swearing, canon-compliant smoking, au, minor character death, cancer, current events

A/N: Alternate Universe: JJ and Kiara dated seriously for a long while, but over a year before this story, they parted ways. Set in present-day with current events, but most current events are only mentioned briefly for context. All characters aged 21+. Partially inspired by If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi and current events and Sad Feels™ and a sad playlist my sister made. Come cry with me... also on ao3

Shoutout to @alexandracheers​ for proofreading <3

Sometimes even the most beautiful things die. It’s the sad cycle of life. 

It starts with a spark, a first touch, a first look, a first kiss; 

a few embers of warmth, holding hands, secret glances, flirty texts; 

the roaring flames of passion, clinging to one another, leaving the party early, tangled limbs and tangled sheets; 

then the steady heat of a well-tended fire, cozy mornings making coffee, binging your favorite shows, texting to see how your day is. 

But, sometimes, even the most loved and cared for fires die. They go out with little warning or reason. What was a welcome flame in the hearth one night may be a bed of ash by morning. 

Their fire died a long time ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault - no one was trying to douse the flames - it just went out. When they sat down and discussed breaking up - parting ways was a more apropos term - she hadn’t even cried. When he packed up and moved out, it was unceremonious. He even kissed her forehead as he left, like he’d done a hundred times before, only this time he wasn’t coming back. 

She still dreamed about him. Sometimes unbidden images of picket fences and a dog and home-cooked meals and potted plants intruded upon her thoughts. Once, when her period was late, she’d even dreamt of a curly-haired little boy with blue eyes - which was ridiculous because she was very single at the time. Did she even want to have kids?

He thought about her, too. Each new destination she traveled to brought new Instagram posts and awakened an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite place. That ache deepened when she revisited places they had gone together - unwanted memories flooding his senses. The smell of coconut still sent him spinning, missing the feeling of running his fingers through her hair, over the smooth skin of her arms and legs. 

What hurt so badly about their fire dying wasn’t that it died. What hurt was that it should never have died; that it died so quietly and suddenly; that one day it was there, burning bright, and the next it was a cold gray heap of coals. 

Even their friends were surprised when he moved back home. “Where is she?” and “What happened?” and “We had no idea you had any problems.”

Followed by the futile response of, “It was just time to move on.”

And they did move on, eventually. She traveled to forget and perhaps after a few months she could call herself truly happy - though there was always an ache of not having someone to share each experience with. He stayed at home, but he opened his own business and the familiarity of home soothed any wounds he sustained. Their fire might have gone out, but they kept the bed of ash in the fireplace, a shrine to what they once had, and it was more comforting than sad after a time. 

When the virus first hit, she’d been back in the states, on the West Coast. She messaged him:

Are you safe? Still have a job? Anyone sick?

Fine for now. You?

Fine.

When the protesting started, he knew she’d be in the thick of it. Not that he didn’t get involved, he just knew her passion for people and justice. He messaged her back this time:

You’re protesting, aren’t you? Are you safe?

Of course! But I’m being careful. You?

Staying safe. Protesting here, too. 

Hurricane Isaias wasn’t meant to be a bad storm, but she had still tracked it up the East Coast. Her suspicions were confirmed when it intensified.

Isaias didn’t wipe y’all out, did it?

No, blew through pretty quick. The Cut took a hit. Gonna take some time to fix it up. 

At first, after reading the headlines about the fires out west, he thought it was a joke. As they spread, he realized how serious it was and it worried him. 

You evacuated, right? The air quality is shit where you are. 

Yep. Gonna take a pandemic-friendly tour of some national parks further east.

Every new development meant more messages sent. Simple little check-ins that meant nothing and everything. It was a scary year the world faced, and even after all those months apart, the only thing they wanted was to find comfort in one another’s safety. On opposite ends of the country, the two of them tied together by current events and the memory of their relationship. 

Mid-September, while she was traveling away from the fires on the West Coast, he got a call from her mother. He hadn’t spoken to her mother much since they had broken up, over a year ago, but she still liked his Instagram posts and struck up conversations when she saw him around town. 

“Hey, Mrs. Anna.”

“Hi, JJ. I’ve told you, it’s just Anna.” Her voice was soft and as kind as ever, but held an edge of tiredness and strain he hadn’t heard from her before. “We have some… tough news, and we wanted you to hear it from us first.”

Colon cancer…

Kiara’s hearing faded into white noise as her mother spoke those words to her through the phone. Her mother went on to explain that even though they caught it late, the doctors were optimistic that her father would make a recovery. Treatments were set to start right away. 

“Mom, I’m coming home.”

“Honey, we know you’ve got traveling plans. We’ll be fine. We don’t want to interrupt your-”

“Mom, I can’t do much traveling with this virus. Dad is more important than any of that, anyway. I’m coming home.”

JJ cried when Anna hung up the phone. Mike was rough around the edges, and he was resistant to Kiara dating a Maybank, but once JJ won him over, he treated him like a son. Hearing this news was a punch to the gut - it was like losing a father. Even in the midst of his sadness he knew Kiara would be sent into a tailspin.

Hey. You okay?

She was typing in response, then nothing. He waited, seeing the little bubble pop up again and again and fade away each time. And then she videocalled. She hadn’t called him in months - not since they parted ways. The little screen showed her in her car, only illuminated by her dim phone screen and the passing street lights. Tears stained her cheeks, but she kept her eyes trained on the road. “I’m not okay.”

“You’re driving right now?”

“I’m coming home.”

“Kiara, pull over. It’s late. Get some sleep.”

“I can’t. They caught it late - he might… who knows how much time I have-”

“Kie.” His voice was soft. He was always soft toward her.

Her face crumpled as the tears fell fresh. He let her cry. He talked to her about nothing and everything as her tears subsided. She cried as she drove through the night, talking to him when she was calm, crying harder when the conversation lulled. She didn’t stop until she noticed he’d fallen asleep, the video call still rolling. It was after four in the morning. The pang of nostalgia that tore through her was enough to make her catch her breath. They hadn’t talked like that since they first started dating. A few tears sneaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t tell if the memories or the fear of the future caused them. She found a safe place to park and fell into a fitful sleep in the back of her car. 

She made it home just in time for her dad’s first surgery. JJ met her and her mother at the hospital parking lot, all masks and six-feet of distance until she said, “I could really use a hug.” The three of them colliding into a group hug within seconds. 

JJ made sure the Carreras didn’t need anything as Mike went through chemo and more and more hospital stays. He ran errands for them since none of them could risk going out and bringing anything home. He did yard work since Mike hated an unkept lawn. Kiara always made sure to leave him snacks and drinks on the back deck as the North Carolina heat stretched into October. Aside from that, he willingly put himself at Anna’s beck and call. Anything and everything she needed done, he jumped at the opportunity to help. He would even come over in the evenings to play cards with Mike - masks included. Kiara’s heart ached as she watched her parents get along with him so well. She hadn’t realized how far he had wormed his way into their little family, but here they were, acting as though nothing had changed between him and their daughter, loving him like a son. He praised her mom’s cooking until she blushed and there were times he could make her dad laugh so hard they all forgot for a moment that cancer existed. Those moments were fleeting and oh-so cherished. 

Mike deteriorated quickly. It made Kiara sick to see her father become a cancer-wasted shell of himself. As optimistic as the doctors had been originally, the treatments weren’t taking well. As chemo wrapped up, his numbers were still dangerously high. November brought another emergency surgery that confirmed their worst fears. Mike moved home. They were told all that was left was to manage the pain and make him as comfortable as they could. They had perhaps a month left. JJ moved into the guest room to be as close as possible in case anything was needed from him. The four of them were left waiting as Thanksgiving approached. 

Kiara wasn’t sleeping. Maybe it was knowing her ex-boyfriend was staying down the hall from her, though that was an odd thing to focus on. More likely, it was the fact that her father was passing away right before her eyes, slipping through her fingers as she stood by, helpless. The sun had set hours ago, and she sat with a now-cold cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table, mulling over each crazy event that had led her to this point. 

JJ wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge to inspect the contents. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The words came out harsher than she had intended, but then again, she was exhausted in every single sense of the term.

JJ brushed off her roughness. “Hungry. Did you eat dinner?” He knew she hadn’t, so he set about making an extra sandwich.

After a few moments of silence, Kiara whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” she repeated, her lip trembling. “I always kept track of his appointments for him. He was always shit at remembering to go to the doctor. He should have had one last year, but I didn’t come home and I didn’t remind him. If I hadn’t broken up with you, I would have been here to remind him to go.” Tears shone in her eyes and on her cheeks.

JJ gave her a quizzical look, deciphering what she was saying. “I seem to recall being the one who left. But really none of this is anyone’s fault,” he kept his voice even, wanting nothing more than to hug her, to wipe away all the tears, and make sure she never had to shed another one again.

“I know, I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s what keeps running through my head.” She reached up and readjusted the messy bun that her hair was falling out of. “But, for the record, I asked you to leave.” JJ raised an eyebrow as she said this, as though he didn’t believe her. The truth was, neither of them really remembered who had dumped who or why he had left in the first place. Nothing happened that they couldn’t work out with a little bit of effort. “Didn’t I?” she faltered.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“We just fought a lot, didn’t we?”

“Constantly. You were a bitch.”

She turned to him, mouth open. She slapped at his shoulder, “I know you did not just call me a bitch, bitch!”

He smirked at her. “Maybe you weren’t that bad. Apparently, I was a slob.”

“You are a slob,” she chuckled. Then she sighed and moved to heat up her tea. “But that’s no reason to dump someone. We just… fell out of love, I guess.”

“I didn’t.” His voice was so soft he was barely even sure he had spoken. Based on the way Kiara froze, her back tense, he’d definitely said those private thoughts aloud.

She turned slowly, her face pale with lack of sleep and - something else. Was that anger? Or sadness? “You’ve had more than a year to confess something like that to me, and you choose now?”

JJ shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say.

“That was the issue all along, wasn’t it?” Kiara’s voice shook, but she kept her tone cool, even. “You wouldn’t communicate with me.”

“Oh, come on, Kie, that’s not fair.” It was too late for a fight. They were both tired and emotional. This wouldn’t end well.

“What’s not fair?” Her voice had started to rise in volume and pitch as her anger increased. She wasn’t even sure why she was angry in the first place, but something about JJ’s confession caused her blood to boil. “The fact that you didn’t admit you still loved me when you left over a year ago? Or the fact that you choose to admit that to me while I’m exhausted and emotionally compromised?”

“Don’t be like that! That’s not what I’m doing.” JJ tried to keep his voice lower than hers, so they wouldn’t wake Mike or Anna, but the way her eyes flashed told him that wouldn’t happen. He grabbed her bicep and led her out to the backyard.

“Let go of me!” She pulled away from him, trying to hide the shiver that ran up her spine in the cool November evening air. “You don’t get to manhandle me and manipulate me into falling back into your arms like nothing happened.”

“That’s not-“ JJ ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know I’m shit at communicating this stuff.”

“At saying ‘I love you?’ At being emotionally present? Listen, I know your dad was fucked up and he fucked you up, but you’re a grown-ass man now. You could have learned how to be there for me!”

“Don’t bring him into this!” They’d had this fight a million times before. The recurring theme of their demise being communication. Their fire had been sputtering under the faulty system they had in place long before they realized what their problems were - it was something neither of them wanted to admit. “Fuck it, Kie, even if I had wanted to get any better at communicating, you were no help. You held every single one of my mistakes over my head. There was no road to redemption for you.”

“No, no that’s not true. I tried to help you-“

“Only telling me what I did wrong wasn’t helpful.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, stuttering in anger. “Well… if you still loved me so much, why did you leave?”

“Why stay when I knew you didn’t love me anymore?” JJ’s voice dropped and he avoided eye contact with her. 

Her eyes grew wide in realization. “You know what? Fuck you! I loved you until the day you left. If I had known you weren’t coming back I would have fought harder to keep you with me, and if you’re too dense to see-” He cut her words off, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her roughly. She melted into him, a single tear squeezing itself from her eye. He tasted of a coconut flavored vape pod and nicotine and the sea. He was just as stupid and lovely as ever. It only lasted a moment before she shoved at his chest, clearing her throat and turning from him to hide the blush rising to her cheeks. 

“I’m… I’m seeing someone,” she muttered by way of explanation.

“Oh.” JJ licked his lips, missing her more than he had before he kissed her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. Who is it? Why aren’t they here?” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but he was curious. Who could she be seeing that wouldn’t support her during all of this? Who could she want to be with that wasn’t there, like he was?

“Um, her name’s Fern. I asked her not to come. I didn’t want her to meet my dad this way.” She started to walk toward the door, wrapping her arms around herself in the cold November evening air. 

“Kie,” JJ called after her. She turned slightly, to catch his eye out of the corner of her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything… I fucked a lot of things up. And I’m sorry about your dad.”

She nodded. “Me too.” With everything, she added mentally, and he knew she had.

Kiara and JJ wordlessly promised each other that they wouldn't let their differences ruin the upcoming holidays. So Thanksgiving passed uneventfully. It was almost a normal Carrera family holiday, besides the fact that Anna and JJ did most of the cooking. Mike tried once or twice to wander into the kitchen, but he didn’t make it long before having to sit back down. Kiara made him comfortable on the couch and they watched what little football was playing. She was sure to commentate on each play alongside him. The four of them ate extreme amounts of food, and laughed and played games. “Tomorrow we go get our Christmas tree,” Mike announced at the end of the night. Kiara bit her lip and glanced at JJ. He shrugged half-heartedly.

“That’s right, baby,” Anna replied, looking meaningfully at the others. 

And they did. They didn’t travel to the mountains, like other years, but they did go down to the local tree lot. Kiara made a big fuss about finding the fattest tree and over-scrutinized each one until she found the perfect Christmas tree, just like always. JJ had spent holidays with the Carrera’s before, but he had never been so intimately involved in all of their traditions. He thought Christmas might just become his favorite holiday at this rate. 

The weeks leading to Christmas weren’t all smooth sailing. Just a few days after Thanksgiving Mike was confined almost exclusively to a hospital bed in the living room. A nurse moved in a few days after that. He slept fitfully if he slept at all, and most days, the pain (or the pain medication) kept him from interacting with the rest of them. Kie would read to him in the evenings, starting with A Christmas Carol. He fell asleep after only a few paragraphs each time, so it took a long while to get through the story. All four of them watched classic Christmas movie after classic Christmas movie - many of which JJ hadn’t ever seen (to which Anna always replied, “That’s going on our list, then!”). Mike managed to stay awake for the entirety of Elf, his favorite. 

Christmas day was quiet. JJ cooked breakfast for everyone, and Anna gushed about how good his cooking had gotten. They had opted not to exchange gifts this holiday, instead filling their stockings with all their favorite candies and snacks. It had been JJ’s idea, and Kiara thought he might have been a secret genius for suggesting it. In the afternoon, Fern called Kie and they talked for over an hour. JJ thought she looked satisfied when she returned, but nowhere near as happy as one should be when they got off a long conversation with their girlfriend. It was probably just the current circumstances. She didn’t say anything other than, “What’s the next movie, Dad?”

Mike died two days after Christmas. He went in his sleep, which was exactly what he had wanted. No fuss, no doctors trying desperately to save him. Just a good night’s sleep where he peacefully breathed his last. He didn’t look the same as he once had. Cancer had changed him so drastically, his once strong imposing frame a mere shadow of its former glory. But his face was smoothed out, lines of pain, grief, and illness wiped away, leaving simply peace. He could have been asleep, but now he would never wake up. Looking at him, Kiara felt like she was drowning. Like every breath she fought to take just filled her lungs with more and more water. Her dad was her rock, and now she was sinking in a wide, dark ocean. She thought she might never breathe again. 

The funeral was tiny - it was only close family that attended - three days after he passed. The sky was clear and blue and the air was cold, typical North Carolina winter. It had snowed the day before, just a bit, so the ground was frozen and white. It could have been beautiful if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Anna didn’t cry that day. She said she had cried enough. The snow started falling again that evening, once they got home, and she said that was Mike’s way of telling her he loved her. She loved the snow.  

JJ went back home the day after the New Year. Anna told him to stay as long as he wanted, but he said it was time for him to move on. She understood, hugged him tightly before he went, admonishing him to come around often. He said he would, and promised to help with anything she needed around the house, too. Kiara sat huddled on the front porch in a rocking chair, wrapped in a thick blanket with a cup of hot cocoa as he walked out. “You’re not going to say goodbye?” he teased kindly. 

She looked up at him, her eyes still bloodshot and sorrowful. He wanted to hold her. He wished she had never had to go through any of this. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “You’ve done so much for us.”

JJ shook his head. “It was selfish. I thought if I was nearby maybe it wouldn’t happen.”

“It was anything but selfish,” She insisted, standing up and wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She placed a cold hand on his cheek. “Really, J. We couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

JJ might have leaned too deeply into her touch, no matter how cold her hands were. It somehow felt colder when she moved away. He cleared his throat. “So what’re your plans now? Getting back on the road?”

“Not until spring. Mom won’t admit it, but she’s not ready to be alone. She’ll need some help coping. And honestly, I’m not itching to leave.”

“I thought you’d wanna skip out as soon as possible. Doesn’t Fern miss you?”

She squinted her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. “I’ll miss having you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll still be around. I think your mom will institute Sunday dinners or some shit if I don’t come over regularly.”

Kie chuckled. “She really loves you. Dad does - did, too.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I love them, too,” JJ said, honestly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before picking up his bags and leaving. Kiara caught her breath as his lips brushed her skin, warmth spreading from where he made contact. Her wide eyes stayed glued to his figure as he loaded up his truck and drove away. 

If normal could be achieved after a year like the Carrera women had experienced, they worked their hardest to achieve it. Anna threw herself into caring for the Wreck and it had the best off-season it had had in years. Kiara wrote songs and worked alongside her mother and even took some online classes. Anna did indeed institute Sunday dinners with JJ and he came to as many of them as he could. Life was slow to move forward, but Kie and Anna kept each other afloat, reminding themselves that Mike wouldn’t have wanted them to sit still crying over him. Step by step they picked up the pieces of their lives. 

Things went along this way for a couple months or so. The world was calming down, but not fully quiet yet - when was the world ever quiet? Kiara never thought she could enjoy the quiet slow life that was the Outer Banks during the off-season, but after the year she’d had, she wanted nothing more than simple domesticity. She said as much during one of their Sunday dinners, enticing a knowing smile from her mother and a surprising lack of eye contact from JJ. She cornered him on the back deck when he’d stepped out to smoke. She was grateful they had regained some of the ease their friendship had carried when they were younger. “Okay, what was that all about?”

He chewed on his lip, twisting his cigarette between his fingers. He’d given up weed a while back when they were traveling, out of necessity, but she was secretly glad he’d never taken it up again. “I’m leaving,” he said abruptly. 

“Leaving? Going where?” 

“Not sure yet. My cousin’s gonna watch the shop for me. Travel the states for a bit until it’s safer to leave the country. Then Mexico? Maybe.”

“When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, “Don’t know. Not for a long time.”

“Why?” Her mouth had gone dry and her words had run out. JJ was a die-hard salt-lifer. He might pack up and leave occasionally, but the Outer Banks was home, where he belonged. She thought that no matter where he went, he’d always end up back here. Home. How could he leave now?

He turned to look at her, urgency and honesty shining in his eyes. “I know he was your dad, and I probably don’t have the right to feel this way, but I…” 

“You lost him, too,” she said, understanding.

“Need a change of scenery.” He shrugged again, putting out his cigarette before walking back inside. 

Kiara understood better than most the need to keep moving, the change of scenery a welcome distraction. Traveling alone left a lot of time to think and soul-search. She didn’t peg JJ as the soul-searching type, but grief changed people; he needed time. She could support him in that.

“You’re going with him, right?” Anna asked sternly as she and her daughter washed dishes that evening. JJ had just left. 

“What?” Kiara nearly dropped the plate she was drying. 

“JJ told me all about his plans. Getting out of here for a while will be good for him!” She waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing Kiara’s shocked expression. “He talks to me, too, you know? Always has.”

Kiara chuckled lightly, “So even though he and I broke up, he never broke up with y’all?”

“You shouldn’t have broken up with him.”

Kiara’s heart stopped for a moment, as she processed what her mother had said. “What do you mean?” She started slowly. “I thought you didn’t approve of me dating someone from the Cut.”

Anna sighed, setting down a half-washed pan. She turned to her daughter. “Your dad and I always wanted what was best for you. We thought that meant college, a solid career, marrying up. But we realized recently that that is never what life’s about.” She reached out and took Kiara’s hands, tears starting to shine in her eyes. “Your dad was from the Cut. When we first got married, we had nothing except each other but being with him was the best decision I ever made. He made me happy. I think I made him happy, too.”

“You definitely made him happy, Mom. But JJ and I fought all the time, we couldn’t sort things out.”

Anna scoffed, “Your dad and I fought, too. Fights happen, but you have to realize you’re not fighting each other, you’re a team fighting the problem. Once you figure that out, you can work through anything.”

Kiara shook her head, but she had a soft smile on her lips. “Mom, I just don’t know.”

Anna smiled, tearfully. “That is what life’s about. Nobody knows! What really matters is who is there to walk with you in the unknown. Who is there for you when you need them? Through the good and the bad. Your dad was that person for me.” She paused and looked at Kiara meaningfully, “So I’ll ask again: are you going with him?”

She shouldn’t, but while considering all of this somehow she felt freer. Her father had just died, she should still be mourning him, and yet she knew that he wouldn’t want her to wallow - she had to pick herself up. You knew this was coming, she heard his voice in her head. She hoped she would never forget what that voice sounded like. You knew I was going. Now that I’m gone, you’re free to live your life again. Live it, Kiara.

JJ finished buying his ticket for the ferry. It was cold out, more snow on its way. He had some time to kill before loading up his truck, but not much. He double-checked the straps on his luggage in the bed of the truck and was just beginning to contemplate how to pass the time when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Kiara running toward him, backpack bouncing wildly on her back. She was all flushed cheeks and shining eyes and curls tumbling around her shoulders. 

“I broke up with Fern,” her words came out in a rush as she drew near him before he could even greet her. “I broke up with her months ago.”

“O-okay,” JJ replied, heart pounding. A million thoughts ran through his mind. He had just seen Kiara, why hadn’t she mentioned it then? Or before then? Why had she come all the way here to tell him that?

“And I’m coming with you,” she continued. 

“What?” JJ wasn’t one to be lost for words, but he couldn’t say anything else. 

“You make me happy. When the world went to shit you were the one person I wanted to know was safe. You were there for me and my whole family in the darkest few months of our lives and you really cared about us. I don’t care that we fought or that we will fight because being with you makes me happier than I ever thought possible.”

If she was going to say anything else, her words were swallowed up when he kissed her, hands cupping her cold cheeks. “I love you,” he said when she pulled back to breathe. “I never stopped. I didn’t know how to fight for you, how to stay, but I’ll do better. I can be better.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Shut up, we’ll figure it out. We can do it right this time.” 

Sometimes things die. It’s a sad cycle. The brightest fires turn cold and gray. But with time, new sparks can settle in that bed of ash. With care a new fire can start, burning brighter than before. So, even though things sometimes die, sometimes those dead things lead to an even more beautiful beginning.

[soleminisanction]

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

Poised on the upper landing of the Manor’s grand staircase, Brianna Wayne bears a striking resemblance to Tim’s mother. They have the same sense of style (fine suits and commanding high heels, though Bria prefers boots to pumps), the same regal demeanor (squared shoulders, perfect posture, head raised high) and the same all-encompassing presence that makes his mouth go dry and his heart pound against tightening ribs.

They are of the same breed: resilient women in a man’s world, self-forged into weapons that only fools would dare challenge. The creeping knowledge that this woman is also Batwoman, Gotham’s dark knight, only increases the tension. He’s known for years, but now she knows that he knows. And he’s here to train with her. To maybe, if he proves himself, become Robin.

Tim has never been more excited in his entire life, nor more terrified.

He hides the latter with a grin, hands tense on the straps of his book-bag. “Hiya, Ms. Wayne.”

“Bria is fine.” As Bria descends, her cool, dark eyes give Tim a once-over, taking in his school uniform (rumpled), his hair (gelled, but wilted since this morning), and his school-bag (full of homework and the clothes he’ll need for this weekend visit). Her painted lips thin into a tight line. Her expression is unreadable.

Her gaze burns into Tim until he squirms, his chest growing tighter than ever. When they’d first met, Bria could hardly meet his eye; he’d been dressed as Robin, after all, a ringer for her dead partner and son. Now that she saw him for real, he couldn’t shake the idea that those shadowed navy eyes are peering into his very soul.

She reaches the floor alongside him and pauses only a moment to complete her observation. Then she turns, gesturing for him to follow. “Before anything else, you and I need to talk. Alfred, some tea would be lovely.”

“Of course, Miss Brianna.” The old butler primly tucks his driving gloves into a coat pocket and clasps Tim on the shoulder as he strides for the kitchen. It’s meant to be supportive, but the very idea that Tim needs support makes his stomach squirm.

He stars up at Bria, willing himself not to pout. “Am I in trouble?”

Her gaze softens. “No. But we need this.”

Tim nods and follows, his sneakers almost as silent as her heels on the thick carpet. She leads him to her first-floor study and motions that he should take a seat on one of the couches. Tim obliges, tucking his backpack under his feet and trying not to stare at the grandfather clock, now that he knows what it hides.

Alfred appears shortly thereafter, bearing a full tea set and several fresh-buttered scones. He places the tray on the coffee table between them, prepares each a cup to their preference, and bows out, latching the door behind him.

Bria muses over a few long, silent sips before, at last, she begins. “So. Tim.”

He straights his posture. “Yes?”

“You must know we’ve investigated you.”

He deflates.

She knows. Of course she knows.

“Naturally, we began with your school.” Her tone and expression are both carefully even, like she’s trying to soothe a frightened dog. “We needed their permission for you to spend weekends here. That meant getting access to your student records, including your parents’ names…”

Tim bites the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

“…which led to Alfred’s revelation that, so far as the public knows, Jack and Janet Drake have only one child. A girl.”

Tim hurriedly sets down his teacup before his shaking hands can do it for him.

“Tim—”

“I’m sorry!” he blurts, hands clutched over his thighs. “I swear, I didn’t mean…I-I’m not lying. Wasn’t lying, I swear. I just…”

He blinks against the tears that prick at the back of his eyes. He doesn’t have the words to explain why and how he’d approached her like this, why he’d dressed in boy’s clothes and given the name “Tim” when Dick and Alfred had asked. Maybe he’d thought he could disappear after Dick came home. Or maybe, maybe, when he’d thought this would be his only chance to meet his heroes, he’d been desperate for them to see him as himself. Or maybe…

“Tim.”

Brianna’s second call, more firm, cuts through his thoughts like a warm knife through butter. His heart trips over the realization that she’s still using his name. She has also set down her teacup. She pats the embroidered cushion beside her.

“Come over here. I want to show you something.”

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Tim abandons both his teacup and the untouched scone. Once he settles awkwardly alongside her, Brianna opens a coffee table drawer and pulls out a leather-bound family album, which she opens across both of their laps.

The photos contained within are clearly of her childhood. Some are even in black and white. They’re labeled in neat handwriting — Alfred’s, Tim would guess — but never with more than a date and few names. There’s school photos, galas, social events and private moments, all of the same three figures: a handsome man, a beautiful woman, and a lean, spritely dark-haired boy.

Tim frowns, his thoughts nagging, but it doesn’t register until Brianna stops on a family portrait. It looks very much like the one above the mantle in this very room, only the album’s version also features the young boy in a stiff, short-pants suit. The label beneath it reads only:

Masters Thomas and Martha Wayne, age 36 & 34 Master Bruce Wayne, age 7.

Tim stares at the page for a full thirty seconds before it finally clicks. He gasps as his head jerks up to stare at Brianna, goggle-eyed.

She smiles softly back, leaning in until their shoulders brush with something like affection. “I only figured myself out a decade after this was taken. I’d never heard of the word ‘transgender’ before then. It took me years to come out, but once I did…I’ve never looked back.” She lifts her hand, hesitates, then tucks a bit of hair behind Tim’s ear. “To possess that level of self-awareness at your age is admirable.”

Tim shake his head, trying to rattle his thoughts into some kind of order. “I…I’ve always known. I mean, I didn’t have the words, but I just…knew.”

Brianna nods in understanding. “When did you…”

She gestures to all of him. Boy’s haircut, boy’s uniform. Binder and cup.

“Just this year. I, ah, hacked the school records over the summer. Nobody noticed. New school, new level, new start and all.”

“And your parents?”

Without thinking, Tim’s shoulders slump. “They, ah. Haven’t been home to see my haircut yet. And without the gel they might not, you know.”

He bites his lip, silently begging that she won’t make him explain. Part of him wants his parents to know. He wants them to use the right name and stop sending him dolls or jewelry or dresses that feel like he’s wearing another person’s skin. But a larger part is afraid. What if they blow him off? What if his mother thinks he’s trying to cheat, to take “the easy way” to respect when she had to fight for it so hard? And Dad…Dad, who calls him “Janie” and dotes on “his princess,” who beams with pride when he sees the dresses he’s bought put to use…what would he even think?

To his unending relief, Brianna doesn’t pry, though she does gaze sadly upon her family photo. “My parents never had the chance to know. I’ve always regretted that. But it does make things easier.” She closes the album and sets it aside, turning to face Tim with a fiercely protective expression. “Tim, however this training pans out, I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need support. I have press contacts, access to research, top medical experts on speed dial, and a half-dozen lawyers on retainer who specialize in discrimination suits. And…I also have personal experience. For whatever that’s worth.”

She mutters that last bit, but to Tim, it means more than he could say. Brianna Wayne, Batwoman, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises and one of the world’s greatest heroes, is like him.

He beams and half-wishes he could hug her. But they’re still basically strangers, so he holds back and hopes the smile says more than he can.

Brianna clears her throat and doesn’t look at him as she sets the photo album aside and stands up. “Now, about your training.”

Tim sits at attention. Brianna pins him with a sharp, stern look.

“No binders in the Cave.” She raises one finger to cut off his objections. “No buts. You’ll have enough bruised ribs from training alone, you don’t need to risk any more. Trust me, we have alternatives. Are you on puberty blockers?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be?”

“I don’t think my doctor would…”

“Your new one will. So long as it’s your choice, she’s supportive. And even if she wasn’t, well.” Bria shrugs. “It would hardly be the first drug I’ve procured under the table. Get changed after you finish that scone; you’re going to need the extra calories.”

She strides for the grandfather clock. Tim scarfs the last of his tea and hurries out to the guest room, where Alfred has laid out a training uniform. The first deep breath after he pulls off the binder tastes of sweet anticipation.

------

Four months later, Brianna presents him with a Robin costume all his own. He stands before a full-length mirror and admires the defined muscles of his armor, the way it broadens his shoulders and slims his hips. He puts on the mask and feels more like himself than ever before in his life.

And that night, the Boy Wonder flies again.

------

Originally posted on AO3 a bit over a week ago, but there’s been a lot of exclusionist bs on my feed today, so it’s here now too. Happy pride everybody.

[jesbakescookies]

Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Forty-Six

Sorry for the late update! I'm the worst but here you go. Happy Holidays everybody! 

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature : NSFW **dirty dirty**

Find Too Hot To Handle Master Chapter List Here

"Holy fuck."

"I know."

"I mean, Ho-lee fuck."

"I know, man."

"Holy fuh-ck." "Jesus Fucking Christ, Reedus. If you say those two words again, I will throttle you stupid through this phone." Jeffrey growled into the screen while facetiming his best friend. Scoffing loudly, Norman lit a cigarette and took a long drag before point the stick at him. "Are you fuckin’ with me?" "No man. Why would I be fucking with you about Aria having my kid?" "You're a weird fucker, who knows why you do half the fucking shit you do?" "Fuck off." Huffing out a amused laugh, Jeffrey countered, "You're the one who owns a closet full of mascot costumes." "Those are for scientific research." Norman drawled lazily, his smile crooked. "Yeah into how beast meets man." Jeffrey joked, his gruff words making the other man barking out a laugh. Chuckling for awhile, Norman finally drawled, "So, I'm gonna be an uncle huh?" "Fuck yeah, you are. Excited?" "Hell yeah." Norman’s grin was genuine, his eyes bright as he added, "Fucking crazy, brother. It's awesome." "Goddamn right it's awesome." Jeffrey exclaimed, his eyebrows raised animatedly, "l’m old as fuck and my big dick still works."

Without missing a beat, Norman offered, "Could be the milkman’s kid." "Shut your mouth." Jeffrey growled, his territorial side flaring. “You’re just a jealous fuck. I doubt your beaver basher gets hard enough to knock someone up.” “Fuck you, man. Only reason my loins aren’t pumping out spawn all over Georgia is the titanium rubbers I buy from Japan.” “Sure it ain’t the fact your pea shooter is out of ammo?” “Hell no, the tanks are full in my mayo shooting hotdog gun, brother.” Snorting, Jeffrey drawled, “fuckin’ idiot.” "Yeah, yeah. Hey, we should do a party. Like one of those baby showers but for everybody. The cast and shit." "Alright, yeah. Let me talk to Aria, she might wanna wait on telling everybody just yet." "No worries, we got time." "Fuck no man, this time next year and I'll have a kid in my lap." "That's so fucking insane, dude. Like... holy fuck!" "That's it asshole!" "Okay, okay, okay." Norman laughed as Jeffrey scowled into the camera. "How's she doin'?" "Good... well puking all the time and exhausted but that's pretty average with our schedules. Now that she can't have coffee, she's losing her shit." Jeffrey grinned, thinking of that morning as Aria cursed herself blue in the face, while he sipped his morning cup of joe. "We have a few doctor appointments to go to soon, we're tryin' to get them in before filming on the show starts again." Norman smirked, "well fuck, man. Seriously, I'm happy for you. You'll be an awesome fucking dad." "Hell, I'm just hoping to survive the pregnancy. I can't even begin to think about when the sucker comes out." "You should probably start. It'll be here before you know it." "Gee, thanks for freaking me the fuck out, asshole." "You're welcome." Norman retorted with a sly grin. "So, what do you want, a boy or girl?" Jeffrey swallowed thickly at the question, the idea still so fresh that the prospect of either seemed overwhelming. If he had a son, he'd be responsible for what kind of man he'd become. Aria would of course play role in that but he would be the male role model. The idea was daunting. However, having a daughter didn't seem any less stressful when thinking about protecting a little girl. Jeffrey couldn't imagine what it would be like to keep a daughter safe in a world full of men. "Both sound stressful as fuck." Jeffrey replied after contemplating it. "Either way I'm responsible for how another person turns out in the world." "Son would be pretty cool though. Can you imagine the shit he would get into havin' you as a dad? Shit, he'll be a little hellion." Norman chuckled as Jeffrey cringed. "Shut up, dude." "Then if you got a girl, Jesus can you imagine having to keep the boys away? Fuck, think about how it was as teenagers, fucking little pricks looking for any girl to say yes." "You're not fucking helping me, Reedus." Seeing Jeffrey begin to lose it, Norman couldn't seem to help himself. "Then, what if she looks like Aria. Holy fuck, you'll actually need to keep Lucille on hand, brother." "Stop speaking." "I mean, if your daughter looks like Aria, you'll be beating the fuck out of guys constantly." "I swear to fuck, I called you to give you the good news and get some kind of fucking support and all you're doing is freaking me the fuck out and pissing me the fuck off." Jeffrey growled, while pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "Alright, alright. Look, whatever it is, you'll love it and they'll love you. Besides, you'll have Aria helping you. That woman can do anything, you've said so yourself." "Yeah." "She'll figure this shit out and be bossing you around in no time." Norman joked. Chuckling at the statement he replied, "probably right." "Fuck yeah, I'm right. I'm always right." "Don't press your fucking luck, dumbass."

Aria tapped her fingernails along the tabletop, waiting for Megan to sit down after grabbing their drinks. "Since when do you drink tea?" Megan huffed, setting down the paper to go cup in front of her containing chamomile with honey. "I like tea." "You love coffee." "Yeah well..." Aria shrugged before a smirk curled her lips. "I can't drink coffee right now." "What? Why-" Megan started before her eyes became huge. "Holy shit!" "Don't scream it." Aria muttered, leaning forward to speak quieter. "Holy shit." Megan mocked whispered. "Stop freaking out. This is why I didn't want to tell you in a public place, we can't let it get out just yet." "Why?" "Well, for one. It's private. I like my privacy. Second, what if something happens?" Aria confessed, her eyes dropping away. "Nothing's gonna happen." "You don't know that and stuff happens all the time, I'm not immune to it." "Okay, okay." Megan huffed before smiling so widely. "I can't fucking believe it. You're gonna be a mom." Aria smiled as Megan whispered the last word but bounced in her seat excitedly. "Yeah." "This is so awesome. Oh my god, what if it's a little girl? That will be so cute, she'll be a daddy's girl for sure. If it's a boy, he'll be so damn handsome, just like his father." "You're obsession with my husband's good looks in disconcerting." "Honey, you're just going to have to get used to it." "Um yeah, I'm noticing." Aria muttered but smiled as her friend laughed. "This is amazing. I can't wait to help you shop for maternity clothes and then baby stuff. Holy shit, I need to start planning a shower. Oh my god, I can get those cupcakes you love and have them do a sex announcement. You know, like pink or blue centers. That'll be so cute." "Megan." "And then we can figure out nursery themes, like what animal you wanna use. You could always go the yellow and green route if you want it to be a surprise." "Megan." "I think that's weird though, I'd like to know what to plan for you know. A niece or a nephew, it's important information so I can plan ahead." "Megan!" "What?" "Calm down. You're stressing me out. I'm trying to reconcile the fact that there's a person growing inside me. I can't focus on paint color's and cupcakes." "Okay, okay." Her friend sighed with a dreamy look. "I'm just so excited." "Yeah, I can tell." Aria replied dryly, her eyes rolling at her friend’s wide smile. "Are you happy?" "Very." Aria answered immediately, her lip bitten and eyes prickling slightly. "I'm terrified but... so damn happy." Megan reached over the table to pull her into a hug and murmured, "I'm so happy for you. You're going to be an amazing mom." "I don't know, I didn't really have the best role model." "Just do the opposite of what they did. You'll be fine, you have an amazing husband who will take care of you and actually help with the kid. Is he excited?" "He's so damn happy and excited he can barely stand to keep from screaming it from the rooftops." "I bet, the big dumb lug." Megan laughed, her eyes playful as she whispered, "I can't believe you're having Jeffrey Dean Motherfucking Morgan's kid." "Me neither." Aria murmured, her eyes brightening as she pondered the strange turns her life had taken in the last year. She married a man who had become the center of her world and now she carried his child, soon to be the center of both their worlds. Never in a million years would she have seen herself where she was right then, nor would she trade it for anything in the world. "It's just... surreal."

Find Chapter Forty-Seven Here:

http://jesbakescookies.tumblr.com/post/168360013281/too-hot-to-handle-chapter-forty-seven

I started posting this fic over on AO3 also. I will probably post in both places since I’m still figuring out AO3 formatting etc.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates. I’ll try my best to remember!

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[ellana-ravenwood]

Fun fair with the Family - Batmom x Batfam (REPOST please READ the explanation right under the summary :-( )

Summary : Batmom decides to take her family to the fun fair…She quickly realizes it might not be her best idea ever.

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

Repost because, and this time I really don’t know how, the original post got erased...BUT I had it backed up for once. So here. FUCK. Hum. Sorry. But it had almost 100 notes, and comment people left I didn’t even had time to read because the story simply disappeared...I’m a bit bummed out right now...Is it too much to ask if you could like, reblog and comment again ? I kinda feel bad, it’s not my style to ask those things...I’m so sorry for that, but it’s a bit discouraging, to write something, and to see that apparently it was liked, but to not know who liked it, what were the comments etc etc, especially since this time, I didn’t do anything, the story simply disappeared...Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy, and re-enjoy if you already read it :’-( : 

__________________________________________________

Not even an hour in, and you know you made a huge mistake bringing them here. All at the same time. They were going to be the death of you, so much energy…But it was just so rare that you all had some free times at once…You just wanted to spend some time with them.

It all started so well though.

*******************

You woke up in the best way possible : with your Bruce’s lips trailing kisses on your neck, shoulders and back, his arms wrapped around you. You shifted around, and before you could say anything, he kissed your temple, the corner of your mouth, slowly putting butterfly kisses on your face, to finally kiss you on the lips.

You melted in the kiss, and squeezed his large frame against you, your arms struggling to wrap around him. Damn that man was big. When he pulls away, you can’t help but grin at him, and he gives you the smile he only reserved to you. A real, pure smile. You nuzzle his neck, and he let out a contended sigh.

-You’re alright ?

-More than alright my love, as always when you’re here.

-My sweet Broosh. You know what I mean.

-I am alright. Not even a single bruise or scratch. The boys are too. Calm night.

-I like those.

-I like you.

-I love you.

-Oh yeah, that too. I love you (Y/N).

-Well, here’s for our morning’s cheesy ritual…We probably should get up.

-I have the entire day off.

-Oh ? Well then, what’s the hurry right ?

He smiles once more at you, and you crash your lips on his, climbing on him to straddle him. One of his hand tangles itself in your (H/L) (H/C) hair, the other goes to your waist and his grip is almost bruising. He cannot stop himself, you always had a strong and immediate effect on him…He rolls on top of you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.

-What’s the hurry indeed.

********************

-Can I change bedroom ? Because I need sleep, and I realized that choosing the bedroom just down the hall from yours was a mistake. I think I understand now why the others have their bedroom at the other side of the Manor. You guys are so loud.

Bruce chokes on his coffee, and you turn all kind of shades of red. Give it to Damian to be brutally honest like that…His brothers hesitate between being disgusted (reminding themselves why they also switched bedrooms from the master bedroom’s floor to the opposite aisle of the house), and bursting out laughing, Alfred and his childish giggle convince them to howl in laughter.

You look at your husband, quite horrified, and he shifts awkwardly on his seat, the fork full of eggs he was going to eat still half way through between his plate and his mouth…He says :

-Yes, of course you can change room.

-Great, because really, my dear parents, you’re mak…

-OOOoooook, subject close.

-Yes Dams, subject close. You’re going to make it weird again.

-I never make it weird Grayson ! I think it’s gross too, they just have to know that they’re a nuisance when together, that we can hear them from the gard…

Bruce cuts his son off, putting his large hand on his mouth, and says :

-Let’s not talk about this anymore, instead, let’s talk about the fact that today, we’re all completely free and we should do something together ! 

You freeze at Bruce’s words. “All completely free” ? Could it be ? This hasn’t happened for almost seven months ! You definitely had to do something as a family ! Before one of your sons could say he had plan, you throw in the idea of going to Gotham’s fun fair, without really thinking about it (maybe if you had, things would have gone differently). You even convince Alfred to come with you, because come on, he’s definitely part of the family. When you say he’s “like the dad you never had”, you swore you saw tears welling up in his eyes, as he rushed to put the dirty breakfast dishes in the dishwasher…

Your sons are excited, Bruce seems ok with the plan (as long as he’s with you, his sons, or Alfred, he’s always OK), and you’re just too happy at the prospect of spending a day with your family !

*********************

As you all were wearing casual clothes, almost unfashionable for some of you (Bruce and his black sweatpants, baseball cap and oversized hoodie…oh, what were you saying, that man always looked good), no paparazzis bothered you. They just couldn’t even fathom the fact that the great Wayne family would go out in ripped jeans, flannels, sweat pants, and old shirt that seemed to be a thousand years old ! You guys were always classy !

It was so good, to not be recognize. You could all be yourselves without fearing a silly picture to be posted in every papers the next day !

Like right now, in the fun house, making faces at each others, laughing your asses off when one would fall on a “trap”, dancing as if no one was watching to the stupid circus song that kept playing over and over again. You all had some great move. You completely lost it when Alfred, finally loosing his English phlegm, did the “arms wave dance” with your boys.

You could hug and kiss your Bruce without fearing articles being written the next day, with the pictures, judging you guys’ relationship…Everything was just great ! Your sons though, kept rolling your eyes at you two, whispering, or plainly saying out loud : “Get a room”, “PDA !!!” and other “Ew, gross”.

Damian won a gigantic teddy Bear for you at some darts game, that was bigger than him, and you thought it was the most hilarious thing ever to see him carry it all around the fun fair. The boy refused the help of his brothers and father, so he deserved his struggle, and damn, it was just too cute. He had to twist his neck on the side to be able to see where he was going, because that damn bear was so large ! When you thanked him with a kiss on the forehead, he looked just so proud of himself that it melted your heart a little bit. That boy.

Jason, making all of you laugh, won some water guns at the “hook-a-duck” game, that was suppose to be for little kids. Of course, the rest of the warm summer day was spent spraying each other.

Tim got thrown out of the “magic house” as he made it a mission to debunk absolutely every single “creatures” in it, and explained every single trick, in details, the magicians were performing. The owner, a very fat, dirty and bald character, grabbed him by the collar, and Bruce almost knocked the man out, no one was touching his babies ! …Fortunately, you got a hold of him before he could do anything, and Tim handled himself. You could understand the owner though, because your son was being a total buzzkill, and every visitors were leaving his attraction…

Dick decided to “test his strength” by using one of those machines where you put a couple of quarters in, and a ball would come down for you to punch, and then a number would tell you how “strong” you were. All the boys did it, even Alfred…Dick punched the hardest, breaking the score that was the highest before he tried…Until Bruce tried too, and broke the machine because he punched too hard. He apologized to the owner of the machine, and gave him check for him to buy another one.

Everything was just great.

Until your sons’ energy was a bit too much. They wanted to do EVERYTHING. As soon as they finished an attraction, they were running to the next one, and you realized that you were not fit to follow them…But then a day that was starting to be too exhausting for you to really appreciate your family’s presence, too much at the same time, while it started so great..turned perfect.

Bruce gave you a piggy back ride through the fun fair, and things were good again. You could follow your children with ease, comfortably snuggled against his back, and you had easy access to his neck, jaw, temple and hair…All the places he liked to be kissed and caressed. Bonus point because your actions grossed out your sons a lot.

You were so glad you decided to go to the fun fair everything was so perfect…a few other accidents happened besides Bruce broking the punching machine, and Tim being thrown out of the magic house.

Damian punched a man disguised as a werewolf in the haunted house, because he jump scared him, and you guys all ran out of the place…until he realized he forgot his giant teddy bear inside, and went back in, just to punch the werewolf man once again because the fool was trying to grab him, while yelling “SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE PLEASE”…You avoided the Haunted House area until the end of the day.

Jason ate too many candies, and threw up everything after he went on the tea cups attraction…You couldn’t help but telling him : “I told you son”, as, indeed, you warned him all day that he was going to get sick with all this sugar combined with fun fair stuffs. Even the carousel made him gag…

Dick almost got punched in the face for flirting with the girlfriend of some very jealous guy. Of course, he didn’t realized the girl had a boyfriend. He escaped with a laugh that infuriated the dude, and a few backflips that impressed the girl…and was able to slip his number in her pocket. Of course he would.

Tim got stuck in the “hamster wheel” of one of the fun house because Damian kept throwing his giant teddy bear at him…and both you and Bruce had to separate them before they would get in a violent fist fight. You made them hold hands the rest of the day as a punishment. Yours and your husband constant snickering towards them got the lesson through their head. Alright, no more fighting…in front of the parents.

And finally, the boys convinced Alfred to go with them in the biggest roller coaster on the fair, even though their favorite butler kept refusing their proposal as he said “rollercoasters made him sick”…He just couldn’t resist them. He considered them his grandchildren, he felt obligated to please them. And so here you all were, on a gigantic rollercoaster and…Damian, who was sitting next to Alfred, turned, and the panic on his face scared you.

-MOM, DAD, PENNYWORTH JUST FAINTED !!!! AL’ !! HE’S NOT OK !!

You all rushed around your loved butler to see if he was alright at the end of the ride, and with a weak voice, as he was waking up, he just said :

-I told you those made me sick…I don’t like heights too much…

And that marked the end of your day. It was getting quite late anyway, almost time for patrol. Dick and Jason supported Alfred back to the car, and Bruce went behind the wheel, forbidding his dear butler to drive, and once you all got home, he forced him to go take some rest.

Your boys felt extremely guilty that they almost broke their Al’…

********************

Before going to sleep, you checked on Alfred, bringing him some hot tea…that he never drunk as he was already in a deep slumber when you came in his room. You put the blanket back up to his neck, and with a kiss on your adoptive father’s forehead, you felt him, leaving a note telling him that if he needed anything he should just ring you, even though you knew he probably would never do it…

You went to bed late, but not late enough for your children and husband to be home, and you slipped into your king sized bed alone.

It was alright though, you knew your Bruce was going to warm the place next to you soon enough (you hoped it would be another “calm night”)…And the day you spent with him and all yours boys charged you up so much on family time that it was fine.

You made a mental note to take them to the fair again some day, but after a very exhausting night, so that their energy would be a bit lower.

********************

The sun was already rising in the sky when you felt Bruce’s side of the bed shifting, and his arms wrapping around you, squeezing you on his naked chest.

-Calm night ?

You asked hesitantly.

-Very calm. Bruise and scratch less.

You smiled, and turned around into his embrace so that you’d face him.

-Good. I like those.

-I like you.

-I love you.

-Yeah, that too. I love you (Y/N).

You stare at each other for a bit, each enjoying the presence of the love of your life, until a mischievous smile appears on your face :

-The night was calm enough to leave you with some energy ?

-You betcha sweetheart.

And on that note, he is on you, his lips crashed on yours, and his hand roaming your body. Damn you loved that man. And if you could hear his thoughts, what his heart said, you’d realize he loves you even more.