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nothing ever goes right on July 19th

Summary:

It's Tim's birthday! If only everything could go right. Literally just one year would be nice.

Notes:

Guess who's back on her bullshit of torturing her favorite characters. It's me.

I've had this idea for almost a year. Like it popped into my head a couple days after Tim's birthday last year. Despite this, I will still be pushing deadlines.

Let me know if I missed anything that needs tagged because I am losing my ability to know what tags to use.

I never specify it, but Tim is like 19, Damian is like 15, Dick is like 26, and Jason is like 23. I know I'm messing with ages and age gaps a lot but I make the rules here and that's where I wanted them.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tim stretched and sat up. He had, surprisingly, slept last night. He looked at the clock and noticed the time said 7:16am. Figures. He had never been able to sleep past 8am in his entire life. At least this time, he had gotten more than two hours of sleep, despite being alone.

Throwing on whatever sweatpants and sweatshirt he found, the sweatshirt probably belonging to his boyfriend, and wandered toward the kitchen. Alfred would already be awake, which means there would be strong coffee in the kitchen. Bruce had never figured out how to make an entire pot of coffee and lived on Keurig cups, which was fine if you drank coffee like a normal person. His brothers didn’t drink coffee, except for Jason on rare occasions, and it was usually spiked.

He had been right about the coffee. He had also thought he had hidden some of his pop tarts in one of the cabinets. He knew he had. He had pushed them to the back and covered them with other items to make sure he was the only one that ate them; however, they were all gone. In all reality, he could’ve eaten the last of them the last time he had pulled multiple all-nighters working on a case; time blurred when he did that.

He would soon discover that it was not him that had eaten them, but the speedster that was sitting in the living room with his feet on the sofa he had claimed. The multiple silver wrappers on the table giving him away to anyone with eyes.

“Hey, Wally,” the redhead turned to see the birthday boy, planting his feet on the ground.

“Hey, Tim. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. What are you doing here?” Tim was sure that came out ruder than he meant for it, but he could blame it on just waking up.

“Dick invited me.”

“Did he now? You happen to know where he is?”

“Oh hey, there you are.” Dick really did have a magical ability to appear when someone asked about him.

“What’s Wally doing here? You were the one that wanted this to just be family.”

Dick seemed confused for a second before realization seemed to strike. “Oh shit. That’s what I forgot to tell you guys.”

“You didn’t tell them?” Wally asked; well, it was more of a whispered shout, but that was beside the point.

“I forgot.” Tim very loudly sipped his coffee; he had already figured out what was going on and was very much enjoying tormenting his brother. “Wally and I are engaged.”

“Congrats,” Tim said through a smile.

“No. No. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Messing with Dick like this was a great way to start his birthday.  

“Like you’re happy about this news.”

“I am.” He was. Was he particularly happy about finding out on his birthday? Not really, no, but he would live, especially if this ended up being the worst thing that happened, although he knew it wouldn’t be.

“No, Tim, it is your birthday and your day, which means Wally, you need to go home.”

“No. Wally, you can stay. Let’s just maybe not tell everyone. Okay?” They both nodded. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Jon is running around here somewhere.”

“Why wouldn’t he just come over when Kon comes over?” Dick asked.

“Conner’s not coming. Clark wanted him to do something, said it was super important and that the two of them needed to get it done as soon as possible.” He knew that Clark had been trying to work on his relationship with Conner, mostly for Jon, which he liked, but he hated that it meant he wouldn’t be able to see his boyfriend on his birthday.

“Aw, Tim. I’m sorry, kiddo,” Wally added the nickname in because it had almost always made Tim smile. He was the only person that Wally called kiddo, despite the fact that they had all met Lian and she was an actual child. Well, Damian was also still a child, but if you called him anything but Damian, you got stabbed. Which was great for suture practice but not fun generally.

“It’s okay. He said he was going to surprise me with something to make up for it. It wouldn’t be the first year someone I cared about missed my birthday. Probably won’t be the last.” Tim shrugged and walked off, hoping to find the rest of his family. Well, Jason. He was hoping to find Jason.

He did. Although he was pacing and would occasionally sigh into his phone. “Roy, I already told you I can’t come home… It’s Tim’s birthday, that’s why… Yes, I will tell him you said happy birthday… Just make sure you give her the medicine every four hours… Yes, I love you too… Bye.”

“Trouble at home?” Tim asked.

“Lian is sick. Roy is freaking out.”

“You can go home to them if you want.”

“No. I am staying for your birthday. It was literally what you asked for.”

“Yeah, but I understand that stuff happens.”

“Not this year.”

“Best knock on wood to make sure you don’t jinx us.” Tim was sure that something was going to happen anyway. It would be weird if something didn’t.

“Can you not be so pessimistic for like, two seconds?” Tim shook his head, smirking more than he should really. This morning had already been very entertaining. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“No. Wally ate my pop tarts.”

“Good. This means I get to make you a birthday breakfast.”

“How very at-home-dad of you.”

“Shut up, Replacement.” While the term replacement had started as an insult intended to hurt, it had morphed into one of those affectionate insults that siblings used. Only Jason was allowed to call Tim a Replacement, just as Tim was the only one allowed to call Jason a Zombie, which he did as a retort.

Tim followed Jason out of the room and stopped in the hallway. He could go try to find Damian, although he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to do that. No. He would have Dick find Damian, who would find Bruce. Those were both people he had no real interest in seeing at this exact moment. Instead, he wandered to the kitchen where Jason had set up everything he needed, not bothering to ask anyone to help him because none of them could cook but him.

Tim instead perched himself on one of the counters; he liked sitting on them when he didn’t have an oversized chair to fall into. He knew he should probably get dressed and look like a normal human being, but he was really comfortable. Plus, this sweatshirt smelled like Conner, and he didn’t want to give that up quite yet.

“Alright, I am off. Let me know if you guys need anything. If not, I will see you tomorrow, have fun, don’t start any fights,” Tim heard Wally say from the door. Dick must have decided that it was going to be family only. He leaned forward slightly so he could watch the two of them.

“Will you go on patrol tonight?” Dick asked.

“Was already planning on it.”

“Don’t forget that you promised Barry you’d call soon. We both know he will freak out and run to our apartment if you don’t.”

“Thank you for reminding me.” Wally leaned over and kissed Dick, finally shrugging his running jacket on all the way. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” And just like that, Dick was standing with the front door open to nothing. Tim knew how fast speedsters were, he was friends with Bart after all, but it was still a shock to see it like that sometimes. Dick had just shut the door when his phone rang with a new text message, indicating Wally had made it home safely. Dick wandered into the kitchen and said, “Yes, food.”

Jason smacked his hand with the spatula he was using when Dick tried to steal some of the fruit he had cut up, “No touching.”

“Rude ass bitch,” Dick muttered light-heartedly. Tim snorted, which caught Dick’s attention. “I’m not going to lie, I thought you were getting coffee and were going to disappear on us.”

“Trying something new.”

“Glad to hear it,” Dick wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders. They all knew that Tim’s birthday wasn’t exactly the easiest on him. For being just barely an adult, he certainly had lived through his fair share of shit, sometimes only barely coming out of it on the other side.

Most years, Tim would busy himself with casework for most of the day until his brothers forced him to socialize or when whatever was going to go wrong that day did. Last year, he and Conner had disappeared for a good chunk of the night until some people had broken out of Arkham, and they needed Tim’s help. He always solved Riddler’s puzzles the fastest. No one had asked where the two of them went.

“Did you take your medication?” Jason asked, noticing that the bottles hadn’t moved since last night. Tim shook his head and dodged Dick’s attempt to hit him in the shoulder. Tim did catch the bottle when Jason tossed it to him. Technically, he took his meds around lunch, but that was because that was usually when he remembered to take them. He was supposed to take them when he first woke up. Some days he didn’t sleep, so that wasn’t really possible. He swallowed one down dry and noticed the concerned look on his brother’s face.

“Have you been taking those regularly?”

“Yes, mother,” Tim responded to Dick’s question; he really was the mother friend of their group.

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Alfred, don’t expose me like that.” Alfred shrugged and walked out of the kitchen. He had just been checking that the food he was smelling was being cooked by Jason and not an attempt from one of the others to cook. Tim turned to see both of his brothers watching him, waiting for an explanation, “Some days I forget. Especially when I don’t really sleep for days or when I’m working on a really big case, but I forget to do basically everything when that happens.”

“Do you take them when you go over to Conner’s?” Dick asked.

“He makes sure I take them.”

“I knew I liked that boy for a reason,” Jason finished up cooking and plated enough for four people. Tim was going to ask who the other plate was for when Damian came into the kitchen. They could move into the dining room, but Tim was far too comfortable on the counter to move.

“Happy Birthday, Drake,” Damian said, voice flat as ever.

“Thank you, Damian.” Tim fully expected Damian to leave once he had grabbed his plate, but the smallest of them stayed in the room with the others, “Where’s Jon?”

“He went home.” The shift in Tim was small, but it was enough to alert Dick and Jason. Tim knew he shouldn’t be so scared about his brother sending his boyfriend home, Dick had done it, but because it was Damian who had a habit of stealing the spotlight out of spite, he was terrified.

“Damian, can I talk to you in the other room for a sec?” Damian nodded and followed Dick into the other room.

“Tim, what’s wrong?”

“Why would he send Jon home? Jon is the only reason he behaves.”

“He sent Jon home because this is brothers only.”

“But I feel like he’s planning something.”

“He’s not gonna do anything. Dick and I are going to make sure of that, okay?” Tim looked over at Jason and nodded. He trusted his brothers. He trusted them with his life; he could trust them with this. “I promised you this would be a good birthday, and I am not about to break that promise.”

“You sound like you’re talking to Lian,” Tim’s voice was small, but he was coming back to himself, slowly but surely.

“Replacement.”

“Zombie.” Jason dramatically rolled his eyes as the other two reentered the room. Damian was surprisingly quiet and polite through breakfast. Tim was allowed to pick their activities for the day. Obviously, he picked Mario Kart because he could utterly destroy his brothers at that game.

Alfred made lunch, although Tim didn’t remember exactly what it was. He knew he had asked for it like a week ago, but it was something he had done in an exhausted haze, so he had not retained that information.

The afternoon was blurry. He remembered his brothers were there. He remembered falling asleep on the couch for about an hour. But it was hard to remember the good when all he could clearly remember was the anxiety of waiting. Waiting for something to go wrong. He wanted to say that maybe Jason had been right. Maybe nothing was going to go wrong this year. He had almost tricked himself into believing it.

Tim had legit just asked his brothers to be there, so he got very few things in terms of gifts, just the official ownership of some sweatshirt that he had stolen. It had been a pleasant dinner, even though Bruce wouldn’t stop scowling, and Dick looked physically uncomfortable the whole time as he tried not to talk about him and Wally. Alfred had made a cake because of course he had.

The alarm blared when Tim took a breath to blow out his candles. When the other four jumped into action, he sighed, which accidentally blew out the flames. He had been so close. They had almost gotten through an entire birthday celebration before something went wrong. This villain couldn’t have waited for another two hours so that it fell into patrol time? Of course not. That would be far too easy.

Tim found himself perched on one of the closer buildings. This dude was new, nothing particularly special but still new. He was mostly just a common thug that had gotten his hands on some explosives. Although Tim figured that he was working for one of the bigger villains, Riddler was who he was guessing. He figured out where all the bombs were and was about to relay that information when one of the buildings across the street started to tremble.

Tim swung down and kicked his brother out of the way, turning and whacking one of the henchmen away from the crumbling building. Tim rolled out of the way before a chunk of wall crushed him. Tim looked up when he heard Dick say, “Nice aim there, birthday boy, guess I owe you one.”

“Thanks. There are six more.”

“Of course. Lucky number seven.”

“Explains his weird ramblings,” Jason commented, coming up to them. If he shot a henchman in the leg, that was beside the point.

“You know Bats is gonna be pissed that you did that?” Dick asked. Jason shrugged and shot at another one without looking.

“So, where are the others? Bats and Robin can be a good distraction while we get those taken care of.” Tim gave each of the other two different ones to work on; Tim kept theirs together. He had given himself the ones that were located across the street from one another; they were going to be the hardest to defuse.

The one was a plant shop that specialized in fancy bamboo. The other was The Ladybug Club, a small casino. Since this villain was either superstitious or really liked the idea of destroying luck, it made sense that those would be his biggest targets. Tim, of course, had been right. He breathed a sigh of relief when he got the last bomb defused with just a few seconds left. He had perched himself in one of the broken windows to see the villain finally go down, and a set of cuffs slapped on him.

He had joined the others in helping civilians and cleanup. It was pretty routine for them. This was also the point where Tim would usually break off from the others to get information from witnesses or the occasional police that Tim had deemed trustworthy and competent.

“What did you think you were doing?” Tim didn’t need to pay all that much attention to know that Bruce was talking to him.

“Helping?”

“By staying out of the fight?”

“If I hadn’t, Nightwing would’ve been crushed, and six more bombs would’ve gone off.”

Bruce faltered for half a second, “You still could have done more.”

“Well, last time I told you how to take down a new villain, you belittled me, and I really didn’t feel like dealing with that today.” Tim noticed the people that had been watching the ‘conversation’ between the two but had decided to ignore them.

He was just so angry that he could do nothing right. He had worked for years to get to where he was now, and Bats seemed to act like he was the same child he was when he started or one that Bats thought he would be. Dick and Jason had both been reckless in their own ways as Robin. Dick put himself in dangerous spots to see if he could get himself out of it, and Jason raced headfirst into any fight no matter the size of his opponents. Tim had always been the one to watch for a second to figure out how to do something effectively with as little chance of injury as possible. Despite working by his side for years, Bats had never figured out that that was the way Tim worked.

Tim had decided a long time ago that Bats was an old man that was just stuck in his ways at this point, especially when Damian would just follow orders to jump into a fight so that Batman could watch. Bruce had never appreciated that his ward wasn’t going to just blindly follow orders, especially after he was put in charge of a team of his own. Tim was one that watched and was defensive first, trying to get inside a villain’s head, which was surprisingly easy most times. It had been a tactic he took with him, and it had kept his team from dying on more than one occasion, so he was pretty sure that meant it was effective.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Bruce muttered before turning and walking away. Leaving Tim alone in the middle of the rubble.

“Red,” Tim turned to see Jason, “Get out of here for a bit. We have this handled.”

Tim nodded and made his way through the city. He didn’t think too much about where he was going and how he was getting there as he made his way to his favorite hiding spot. He couldn’t tell you what the building was, but it fit Gotham’s brooding aesthetic and was tall enough for him to perch on, despite the fact that the height concerned Dick a lot.

Tim sat on the edge of the building, leaning against the gargoyle that he affectionately named Jack. He loved it up here. It was quiet, and the skyline that stretched around him was peaceful, plus it was a pretty good place to watch for potential crime. He hated that part, but it was what he told Bats when he asked why he was so affectionate of the spot.

He envied Jason for never having to watch over the city like this. Maybe he should do something like that. Just work as a detective or something so that he could do some good in a way he felt competent in. He would never be as good of a fighter as the other three. He could hold his own in a fight, but he always believed that he was more of a brain’s person. It just sucked that he couldn’t trust his own sometimes.

It had been five years since his personal Joker incident. Getting tortured and partially brainwashed wasn’t exactly his version of fun or a good birthday gift. The lasting effects were even worse. He understood why he was targeted like that; it didn’t make it any better.

“Drake,” Damian said from behind him. He had heard the footsteps come up, even though they tried to be too quiet to detect.

“What do you want?” Tim didn’t even try to hide his mild annoyance at the youngest’s presence. He had been enjoying his alone time.

“You were not at the station with us.”

“Didn’t think I really needed to be. It’s not like I did much in that fight worth reporting.” Tim threw a pebble onto the next building. “And if you came to remind me of that, I really don’t want to hear it.”

“That is not why I came to find you.”

“Then again, what do you want?”

“I have something to tell you,” Damian sat down next to Tim, taking in the city that they both called home, “Do you remember the year I ruined your birthday singlehandedly?”

“Of course I do. It sucked, but you seemed so happy about it, and Bruce did almost nothing to stop it.” Tim didn’t realize he had started to cry until he wiped a few tears off his face.

“Are you crying?”

“I really don’t want to hear you ‘critique’ me tonight. In fact, that can be your birthday present to me since I know you didn’t do anything else. Just leave me alone for like ten minutes to drown in my sorrow.” Tim wiped the frustrated tears from his face; there were more now.

“I do not hate you.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Tim pushed all the emotion out of his voice.

“I was not finished. You are a great brother and were a good Robin. And I will never admit this to anyone else and will only be saying this once, but you are the best detective I know, better than Father. And I acted the way I did to push you out not because I hate you but because I believe you could do better than this.”

Tim was quiet for a moment before speaking, “Wow, that was almost believable. I thought you were serious for a second.”

“I was serious.”

Tim stared at Damian for a long moment before getting the courage to ask, “Are you only saying I’m a good brother because I saved your life that one time and Alfred said you had to?” Damian shook his head. No one knew that he had been planning on saying that. Not Bruce. Not Grayson. Not Jon. No one. Well, he told Titus, but Titus can’t talk, so he doesn’t count in this instance. “Thank you, Damian.”

“I am also sorry about your birthday being ruined.” Tim shrugged. He was pretty used to it by now. “Has it really happened every year?”

“Pretty much. My actual parents were usually too busy to do anything or would purposefully plan trips so that they were away. Here hasn’t been much better. Dick almost got himself killed on a mission, Jason being who the fuck knows where after coming back, you, bombings, attacks, I was kidnapped and tortured one year.”

“Was that when the-”

“Yes,” Tim interrupted. It was a bad omen to say his name; it usually conjured him, “Yes, it was.”

“You seem to be getting better.”

“It’s a daily battle.”

“Do you think you would ever…” Damian didn’t know how to ask this question, but Tim knew what he was asking.

“Not anymore.” Tim wouldn’t say he was happier, maybe a little. He was just in a better headspace now. He doesn’t spiral quite so often anymore. But had Damian asked this question a year ago, his answer would’ve been very different.

What happened next would be one of the strangest experiences of Tim’s life. Damian scooted closer and wiggled his way under Tim’s arm, hugging him tightly. Tim didn’t say anything and just wrapped his arms around his brother.

“I am sorry that you had to deal with all that.”

“Cause I’m weak?” Tim was sure that was going to be what Damian thought, although tonight was full of surprises apparently.

“Because you do not deserve it.”

“Dick has really been rubbing off on you.” Damian pulled away.

“I take it back, only because you said that.” The two turned as a gasp, and a cackle joined their moment. Damian scowled at the two eldest, “How long have you two been standing there?”

“Long enough for you to roast me,” Dick answered. In reality, they had been watching the two for some time. Dick was concerned that Damian was going to say something to purposefully hurt Tim, although he was proven very wrong upon seeing the two boys hug. Jason had been close enough to actually hear the conversation, though he would never mention it, knowing that it was a private moment between the two. “That was so mean, Little D.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I will never stop calling you that.”

“You’ll get used to it, kid. He still calls me Little Wing, unironically,” Jason said. The irony in that nickname was that Jason was taller and more built than Dick was. Tim chuckled and stood up to join the other three. It was nice to laugh on his birthday. “Well, everything from that attack has been taken care of, and that fills our disaster quota for Tim’s birthday,” Jason ruffled Tim’s hair, “Back to the Manor?”

“Race you back?” Dick asked.

“Well, that’s not fair. You’re obviously going to win,” Tim retorted. None of them had ever beaten Dick in a race across the rooftops. Jason elbowed him slightly and smirked, “Alright. It’s a race.”

“Ready? Go!” Dick and Damian took off toward the Manor, keeping to the rooftops. Tim and Jason grappled down to the alley where Jason had parked his bike. It had been the giveaway when the other two had arrived.

When Tim’s feet hit the concrete, he was being pulled toward the bike. Jason never lets his brothers ride his bike; Roy barely got to ride it. But a few years ago, the two had discovered that Tim loved to ride on the bike facing backward. Was it the safest way to ride a bike? Absolutely not. Did it help Tim feel alive again after being numb for so long? That was why Jason let it happen.

Tim loved watching the city disappear behind the bike. It made him feel like a kid again. Like he was watching all his problems disappear. Jason drove more carefully when they did this, he still sped, but he didn’t take corners quite so tight.

Tim turned his head slightly and tried his best to say, “Thank you,” to his brother for this. Jason didn’t need to hear the words to know what they meant. He also knew that Tim would thank him again once they were actually done.

“I feel like that is cheating,” Damian commented from where he and Dick were watching the other two.

“Shh. Let him have this.” Damian would stay quiet about the situation. Dick had completely expected him to say something when the four of them arrived at the Manor, but he didn’t.

“Guess it’s a tie,” Dick joked as they all entered the cave, “You know what that means; we all get corner pieces.”

“We were all getting corner pieces anyway,” Jason shot back. Tim smiled at his brothers’ bickering before he noticed someone sitting in one of the lounge chairs. He would recognize those boots and that jacket anywhere.

“Conner?” The boy snapped his head up and smiled. Tim was suddenly very sure he had died and had actually gone to heaven because that was all he could think of to explain all that had happened recently. “What are you doing here?”

“What?” he stood, and something popped, although he ignored it, “Did you think I was going to miss my boyfriend’s birthday? What kind of man do you think I am?” Tim didn’t respond, only running towards Conner and leaping onto him. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, and face buried into the crook of his neck. Conner wrapped his arms around Tim, both to pull him closer and to keep him from falling

“It’s good to see you, Kon,” Dick said.

“You too.” Conner set Tim back on the ground but didn’t dare try to get him to let go completely, “Okay, you need a shower. You smell like sweat and explosives. What the hell happened?”

“I’m sure he’ll smell like sweat later, too,” Dick elbowed Jason in the side for that comment.

“Sorry, I was just excited to see you.” Tim would explain what happened later.

“It’s okay. How about we go upstairs, and you shower up there?” Tim nodded frantically.

“Don’t forget that we have cake,” Dick said.

“All of you shower, and then we can do cake. Sound good, birthday boy?” Tim agreed.

“Where’s Father?” Damian finally noticed that Batman had not returned with them and had not returned at all. He hadn’t said anything about being late.

“Said it was too active tonight and that he needed to stay out for the rest of patrol,” Dick tried to hide how annoyed he was by the whole thing but did a pretty piss poor job at it.

“Are you going out with him?” Tim asked, directing the question solely at Damian. He didn’t really want Damian to go back out. He didn’t really like the idea of one of his brothers not being there. Bruce was fine. All he would’ve done is scowl at them all for the rest of the night.

“No. He will be fine on his own.”

Tim tried really, really hard to get Conner to join him in the shower, to no avail, though. Tim had just gotten a hushed “later” and then pushed towards his shower. It felt nice to just stand under the hot water for a while. He could let his mind wander off for a little bit, although he had to be careful not to let it get too far away from him.

Tim jumped slightly when there was a knock on the bathroom door. It was Dick, “Timothy, you better hurry up, or I will eat all your cake.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

Tim dried off as much as he could, meaning his hair was still a little damp, but the thought of drying it seemed like too much effort. He was pleasantly surprised to see a sweatshirt that Conner had brought from home and his favorite mug full of coffee waiting for him. His boyfriend really was incredibly thoughtful.

“So, which one of you threatened Clark to let me come back early for Tim’s birthday?” Tim was sure Conner had heard him come down and wanted to make sure Tim heard the answer without being seen by the others. It was something they had figured out with the team when they were afraid to tell Tim something but, for some reason, trusted with Conner.

“I did,” the other three in the kitchen looked over at Damian, although Tim was just as surprised, “Well, I told Jon that he needed to convince Superman that you needed to be here or he was never allowed to come over to the Manor again.”

“Little D!” Damian rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics. His brothers hadn’t noticed that Tim was standing outside the doorway of the kitchen, just listening to the conversation, smiling as he took a sip of his coffee. Savoring the warmth from both the drink and the feeling of being cared for and loved so deeply on his birthday.  

It was a nice feeling.

Notes:

Don't worry, it only gets worse from here. On an unrelated note, when do you guys think Dick's birthday is because there are like four answers online. I need help.
Edit: Thank you for the answers. I think it's been decided that it's March 20th/21st. Which was the date I was thinking about using but I knew a lot of people had talked about the November date.

Making Bruce a bad parent in this was difficult because I fully believe that he would be a great yet tired dad. But I couldn't get some of the ideas I want to show in this out if Bruce was a good parent so here we are.

Come fangirl with me/say hello on my Tumblr or Twitter. Both are @MargotCelvin !

Leave some comments and kudos if you wish, they fuel and terrify me.

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