#SORRY IT TOOK ME A SMIDGE I Had to Finish Up a Big Project But Know I Sketched This the Second You Asked

[mumpsetc]

Sean's VA here please oh please turn them into a delightful and whimsical Pony like you did onto my friend Atronima *pathetic look on my face* or don't I am not your parental figure

THE PEOPLE DEMAND DELIGHTFUL WHIMSICAL PONY!!! Thank God Sean is Both Those Things

[sidhewrites]

Chapter 7! We get to meet Josie, but, more importantly, we get to meet Renfield. Cat Incoming!

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I nearly slip and fall in the mud on my way out of the graveyard, stopping just long enough to let a part-timer know I was heading out for a bit before sprinting through the gate, past the apartment block and into downtown to Mean Mug. 

She's sat with two coffees at our table, the one we'd spent so long talking and laughing and staring into each other's eyes. But today is just one more failure in a pattern of [not being on time.] I don't know how it happens. I swear I try, but any time we make plans, I forget, or I get distracted, and I show up late.

I'm not going to pretend I'm the only wronged party here. Josie was the one who pulled the plug on our relationship, and I'm trying not to blame her for it. But I also see the way she purses her lips and checks her phone -- that hint of frustration she tries to subdue until it festers into bitterness -- and it sparks an old frustration in me that I have to fight back.

I swallow it. We're being civil today. I swallow my anger and waltz in with a smile. "What do you know, Jo?"

"Hey, Kaz." She looks at me with an uncertain smile that fades quickly.

"What's up?"

"Um..." She gestures vaguely, and sighs in that specific way that tells me I've missed something important.

I bite back the urge to snap. What is it this time? Look. I'm air headed. My skills lay in organizing other people's schedules, landscaping a historical site, and having big muscles. It took a while to figure out how to read her unspoken messages and the intricacies of every roll of her beautiful brown eyes, but I had yet to turn into a mind-reader.

[“Where’s the box?”]

Shit. God Jesus damn it shit. In my rush to get over here, I'd completely forgotten our whole reason for meeting. "Look, Josie, I..." I groan. There's no good excuse, but I try anyway. "It's been... you know, a real long day, and I completely forgot."

"I bet." She nods. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have written it down, but there was the tree trimming to schedule, and Mr. Ngo's wife was sick--"

"Oh no. Is Phan okay?"

"She's doing better, but he's taking a few days off to look at her."

"Okay, yeah. Keep going."

"So I had to give an interview for the ghost hunters--"

"The what?"

Shit.

I had also, incidentally, been briefed on the NDA Mr. Ngo had signed to let the Archivists work in relative anonymity here. [maybe? hm.]

I groan, but make myself answer her. "There's some guys here looking into a bunch of local legends. They're going to take a few ghost tours, and they spent the day going around the graveyard with a tour guide to see the historically significant graves, and..."

"And...?" Her eyes shine.

"And they're spending a few nights ghost hunting in the graveyard, and I have to supervise."

"And...?"

"And...that includes tonight?"

"And...?" She looks me dead in the eye.

This time, I know what she means. "And it's the Haunted Archivists."

I wince as she shrieks, a hand over her mouth. "I knew it! I knew it. Oh my god, I'm so jealous." She hesitates, and I know she's trying to decide whether or not to ask me for a big, important favor.

"Absolutely not," I say, before she has a chance. "Mr. Ngo trusts me to handle things while he's away, and I'm not going to let someone into the graveyard at night!" Not to mention, I was still on thin ice with the archivists.

"You don't have to. Just leave the gate open just a smidge."

"No." She pouts, batting her eyes at me.

"Can I--"

I make a point of slurping loudly.

Josie groans, but accepts her fate.

#

Sunset falls on the graveyard, old trees and headstones casting strangely shaped shadows across the grass. I haven't had a chance to touch up that one portion, and wince. I take pride in my work, and this looks sloppy, half-finished. Still, nobody else seems to care. More than anything, they just grumble as I usher them out and lock the gate.

"Sorry, guys. You can visit again tomorrow."

There's some closing work to do -- sweeping the front of the office space, collecting any trash left over. It's nearing nine when I'm done, which means the Haunted Archivists are on their way for call time.

[transition, tbh could take out.]

A brief history of the Ouija board. [fill in with the ouija board history.]

And now, thanks to Hasbro and Hollywood's combined efforts, I'm sitting in a graveyard at the end of my latest double shift, loaded up on caffeine, watching a bunch of people figure out the best lighting by which to contact the dead.

"Do you guys need me for anything, or...?" I gesture helplessly. I feel useless standing around, but no visitors are allowed to be unsupervised at night, even if they do have filming permits.

"Um...No? Not really, sorry." Lourdes shrugs, but I don't think she's sorry.

"How long do you guys think you'll be setting up for? There's a patch of grass over there that I didn't get to mow this week, and I don't want to let it get much taller."

"You mow the grass at night?"

"Sure. I mean -- usually I do it at four or five in the morning, but I can make do."

[They say no, and instead she goes to tend to some of the flowers around the headstones, straightening them and brushing off debris.]

She doesn't text back right away. Weird, but not unheard of. I leave it be, and turn on the lawnmower and take care of what I can before Maddie lets me know it's time to start filming. I guess I'm making too much noise for the sound tech, so instead I follow Maddie back to the circle of light where the rest of the Archivists are finding their places.

I stop just short of the light as my phone rings, and pull it out to check if Mr. Ngo needs anything. But it's only Josie. Of course. I groan, and reject the call, instead sending a text to let her know I have to turn my phone on silent when cameras are rolling.

Mick and Lourdes (who i s2g need better names) sit on the ground on either side of their ouija board

and as theyre filming, another call this one with the emergency ringtonew.  "Josie, I told you, I'm busy with a film crew tonight." I'm half expecting her to tell me she's outside one of the gates and to pretty please let her in.

Instead, she's in tears. I can barely make out what she's saying, and I have to try a couple times to get her to calm down enough to speak in words.

I mouth an apology to the team and step away to continue the call. "Josie, it's okay. I'm here. Just tell me what's wrong."

"It's -- It's Renfield," she manages to cry out. "He's gone."

"What?"

My heart drops. Josie's ancient rescue cat, a fluffy black beast named Renfield. [something]

"What happened? Did you see where he went?"

"No -- I left the door open too long after bringing my box in, and he must have just..." She dissolved into tears once more.

"Okay, Josie, I'll help look for him. I promise. I can't... go too far right now, but I'll look around the apartment block, okay?"

"Okay."

I excuse myself to go look around the block closest to the graveyard, glancing back every now and then to ensure the lights and film crew hadn't gone too far. It wasn't going to be easy to find a black cat in the middle of the night, but I hoped sweeping my phone's flashlight around would be enough to catch his eyes reflecting in the shadows. But after a half hour of no luck, I feel obligated to return to the graveyard and check in on the film crew.

I'm just past the east gate when a shadow bolts past me. It's as tall as my shins, trailing a familiar smell of fur and tuna, and I take off after it without a thought.

Renfield's got his ears flat against his head, fur bristled so he looks twice as big as usual, but he's moving faster than I'd ever seen him go. I chase him across the green, twisting and turning through headstones, and part of me realizes that if it wasn't for my ex-girlfriend's ancient cat moving at super-feline speed, this would have been a fantastic workout.

"Come on, Renfield! Stop running!"

He doesn't listen. Instead, he bolts to the side, taking off towards the sphere of light where the Haunted Archivists have their ouija board set up. Lourdes and Mick sit on either side, hands on the planchette, but they're all watching with horror as Renfield nears the set.

"Catch him! Someone catch him!" I yell.

One of the gaffers makes a brave effort, but Renfield evades his grasp. He leaps between the two hosts, knocking the ouija board to the side and sending the planchette flying before disappearing into the dark.

"Sorry!" I yell, leaping after him, and finally tracking him to a large grave towards the back corner of the graveyard in the corner I hadn't managed to mow the other day. The grass is taller here, the headstones more faded and weathered.

He's snarling and hissing. It's more active than Renfield has been in years, and I hesitate, glancing around to make sure that nobody else is close enough to scare him. I flinch, catching sight of a shadowy figure over my shoulder, but it's nobody. Just a tree in the dark. I breathe out slowly, and bend down. "Renfield, it's me. Hi baby boy." He presses himself up against the wall, eyes bright and wild. "Come on, little boy, it's okay. It's me. Wanna smell?"

He hisses as my hand gets closer, but I must get close enough for Renfield to catch a whiff. He looks around, eyes fixated on a point over my shoulder, and refuses to move.

"What is it? Come on, it's just me." I look back anyway, but there's nothing there but the shadowy tree once more, naked branches casting strange shadows over the headstone. I recognize it as the place I'd first met Lucy, but it seems she decided against coming tonight. I force myself to ignore the disappointment, and tell myself I'm relieved instead. The last thing I needed was a troublemaker on top of everything else.

"There's nobody there, Renfield. Come on, it's okay. Come on."

Renfield's ears swivel towards me, and finally, he tears his eyes away from the tree and darts forward into my lap.

"There we go, good boy. Baby boy, you're okay." I hold him close, running a hand through his fur. "I've got him!" I shout over my shoulder, and the film crew's relieved cries echo over the graveyard.

He's too old to vocalize properly, but I recognize his snuffling and wheezing as his version of pleading meows. Poor thing hadn't been outside since he turned twelve a few years ago. He must be terrified.

I pause, looking to the side one last time. The tree remains a tree with the same heavy shadows as always.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you home." I press a kiss to the top of his head, and shift my weight, holding him with one arm to fish out my phone.

Josie picks up on the first ring. "Kaz?"

"I got him. He was in the graveyard."

"Oh thank god!" She starts crying all over again, but I hear the relief in her voice. "Is he okay?"

"A little scared, but nothing a good cuddle won't solve. Right, little man?" I hold the phone up to Renfield's face. He sniffs it, and wheezes his old, squeaky meow. "That's right, Renfield. We're taking you back to your mom."

Actually, hold that thought. 

I glance over to the Haunted Archivists. Maddie held the ouija board awkwardly, but all eyes were on me.

Screw it. They hated me enough as it was.

I hold the phone up to my ear again, and say, "Josie, do you wanna come meet me down at the graveyard?"

Tag list:

@adaughterofathena

@ambreeskyewriting

@carnelianflames

@feather-dancer

@halfbloodlycan

@nadunacreates

@serenanymph

@vigilantdesert

[h2bakugou]

hi! may i request a scenario where bakugo is helping his s/o with homework, and he keeps yelling at her for not focusing, and she gets really self conscious/upset bc she has ADHD and can’t help getting distracted? maybe he feels bad after and the next day he brings her to his room to help her again and does it much more softly, and cooks up her favorite meal as an apology for yelling at her before? thank you!! (*´꒳`*)

a/n: hi love! of course!! i apologize if i get some things wrong, please feel free to correct me, i used google for a little bit of help with getting things accurate!

summary: during a study session with bakugou, he gets onto you for losing focus, but he eventually finds out that you have ADHD and he comes up to you to apologize.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a smidge of angst

wordcount: 1.4k

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»»————-　★　————-««

“Can you please focus? You’re not going to learn anything if you keep spacing out.” Bakugou groaned, continuing to scribble down notes into his notebook neatly. 

You were trying to focus. Keyword, trying. Little things kept earning your focus, like the sound the clock was making, the small ticking noise happening every second. 

You wiggled your pencil between your fingers, anxiously re-reading over the question. You’d read it a thousand times it seemed. It was getting any easier to understand.

You were bored and Bakugou yelling at you wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, sorry.” You said quietly, trying to ignore the urge to yell at him back. You couldn’t help that you were losing focus. Maybe if this history worksheet was a bit less wordy it’d be okay.

But before you could re-read the question for the thousandth and second time, you took interest in Bakugou’s collection of All Might figures, which you had been sworn to secrecy about.

Bakugou’s eye twitched as he noticed your head moved and your eyes moved away from the paper. He let out a low growl and slammed his hands onto the table.

“Pay attention! It’s not that hard!” Bakugou was losing his patience with you. Everything was fine until it came to your study sessions. He’d never been this angry with you before. But you were just wasting his time if you weren’t going to pay attention.

Your head snapped back to Bakugou, a feeling of guilt washing over you.

“What did you get for number five.” Bakugou asked monotonously.

“Uh...” You looked down at your paper. On the thousandth and third time, it seemed to click.

“Oh well, it’s obvious the guy was a controlling leader so his people killed him.” You answered, a small feeling of relief washing over you. Bakugou sighed and accepted your short response.

“Was that so hard?” Bakugou mumbled. You looked down at your lap and began moving your leg. Sitting criss-cross, your right leg was now moving up and down.

You went back to wiggling your pencil and reading the next question.

You got lost in your train of thought to the point you didn’t hear Bakugou yelling at you again.

“Focus!” Bakugou slammed his hands down on the table again. But this was enough to make you snap out of it and bring tears to your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You apologized. Bakugou softened slightly when he noticed a tear roll down your cheek.

“I’m sorry I can’t fucking help I can’t focus.” You groaned, grabbing your things and standing up.

“Hey wait-”

“No. Go spend your time with someone useful who can pay attention.” You slammed his door on your way out.

You made it back to your dorm and sat on your bed. You’d struggled with ADHD for as long as you could remember. Focusing in school was hard, paying attention was hard. You’d even gotten in trouble for trying to control your fidgeting.

You’d always end up moving a leg, or a pencil in your fingers. But hearing all that stuff from Bakugou, the guy you liked, your boyfriend.

It hurt on a whole other level.

- - -

“How’d your study session with (y/n) go?” Kaminari asked, devouring another bite of his food.

“She kept losing focus. It was annoying.” Bakugou left out the fact that he’d made you upset. He didn’t think it was really anyone’s business what happened between you and him behind closed doors.

Especially not Kaminari.

“Oh dude, that’s a little harsh don’t ya think?” Kirishima chimed in. Bakugou raised his eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

“What was I supposed to do?!” Bakugou groaned.

“Did you yell at her for not paying attention?” Mina asked, worry filling on the rest of the Bakusquad’s faces.

“Yeah? I’m not gonna waste my time for her to just sit and stare at walls and shit.” Bakugou was getting fed up with all these questions.

“Bro.” Sero looked upset.

“That’s a little messed up.” Kaminari added. Bakugou was now utterly confused.

“What am I missing!?” Bakugou raised his voice. He felt tense. Something wasn’t right.

“She has ADHD dude.” Kaminari spoke.

Bakugou’s face drained of color.

He’d royally screwed up.

“Don’t tell me you-”

“I didn’t know.” Bakugou mumbled.

“You owe her an apology.” Mina stated, going into mom mode. Bakugou nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, his appetite had disappeared.

“It’ll be alright, you didn’t know, but you still talk to her about it, and apologize.”

“Yeah, you messed up big time bro.”

“Sero!”

“Sorry.”

- - -

Bakugou knocked on the door to your dorm. When it pulled back and he saw you, he engulfed you in a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized. You were confused, but eventually, you connected the dots and assumed he was apologizing for before, during your study session.

“It’s fine-”

“It’s not. Even though I didn’t know, I shouldn't have raised my voice at you like that. I hate seeing you cry.” Bakugou said softly. This side of him was rare. You’d only ever seen him like this once before.

“I thought you knew, I figured Kaminari would’ve told you as soon as he figured it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bakugou asked. You didn’t have an answer to that. It never crossed your mind, especially since Kaminari had found out pretty early on, it made sense that Kami would have told Bakugou.

“I assumed Kaminari would’ve told you, he found out pretty early on, like the second week of school. You wouldn’t even look at me then.” You laughed.

Bakugou remembered. He wouldn’t even talk to you, let alone be caught looking at you. Until the two of you got paired up for a project and Bakugou fell head over heels for you.

“Let me make it up to you. We can study again tomorrow, and-”

“Okay.” You agreed. You didn’t let him finish, instead, you pulled him in for a kiss.

- - -

When you got to your study session with Bakugou, he had prepared your favorite food. You smiled and didn’t hesitate in taking a bite of the yummy food.

“Did you make this?” You questioned, your eyes filled with joy.

“Yeah. I had stupid IcyHot help me with the recipe. It’s his sister’s.” Bakugou grumbled. You giggled and raised a piece for Bakugou to try.

“Are you feeding me?” Bakugou asked. You nodded. He opened his mouth a tried a bite.

It was good. Bakugou was proud of himself. He assumed you must be really happy about it too.

“Alright let’s get this done!” You said happily.

You and Bakugou began your session. Bakugou paid close attention to you, making sure you were staying on track. 

You began to lose focus again. You could feel his eyes on you.

“We can take a break if you need too.” Bakugou said calmly. You looked up, a small smile on your lips.

“O-Okay.” You blushed. He was being nicer. Bakugou and you stood up, taking a quick break to stretch and get a sip of water. You sat back down, this time beside Bakugou instead of in front of him.

“Changing up on me now?” He chuckled. You smiled and looked at his worksheet before your own.

“Okay let’s read this passage. You start and I’ll finish.” Bakugou awaited your response. You gave him a nod and began reading the long passage for your literature class.

About halfway through you could feel yourself beginning to fidget. Bakugou’s thumb rubbed your leg, tracing small shaped into the fabric of your pants. While you still fidgeted, you felt at ease, calm.

You stopped after the sixth paragraph, allowing Bakugou to take over. Listening to Bakugou read was nice. His voice sounded good, and it was funny when he pronounced big words wrong. 

“It’s pronounced-”

“Are you listening to me reading or how I’m saying words?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

“Both...” You blushed. Bakugou leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“We’re almost done and then we can watch a movie.” Bakugou whispered in your ear.

- - -

The study session was over before you knew it. And as Bakugou had said, the two of you watched a movie in his room, cuddled up beside each other on his bed.

You snuggled under his All Might blanket, the one you had gotten him for Christmas that he loved but would never admit.

“I love you.” You said softly. Bakugou smiled, unbeknownst to you.

“I love you too, you nerd.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[make-me-imagine]

congrats on 5.5k!! you're insanely talented and I'm so happy you're getting the recognition you deserve 🥺🥺 could i join in the ship requests too?

I'm a rather small sized (like, 154cm & ~40kg kind of small) Asian female from a South East Asia country and i prefer men, especially men who are taller and Age Gaps™ 🥴 I'm not sure how much you know about/believe in astrology but I'm a Libra sun, Taurus rising and Capricorn moon so you can do what you want with that 😂

I'm an INTP/INFP (I've gotten both an equal number of times from sites OTHER than 16 personality, tho I personally vibe with INTP just a teeny smidge more) if you do MBTI ✌🏼 I LOVE to read, especially fanfiction lmao, and i also write! I really love listening to music + watching shows/movies too! My favourite shows are all mystery/crime based LOL and I am working towards becoming a criminal psychologist/forensic pathologist/forensic scientist in future! (heavily inspired by Criminal Minds, Sherlock, Detective Conan and the like so 😂) I have a really vivid and good imagination please i can spend DAYS just daydreaming and imagining scenarios that I never finish writing about & generally this is how all my work is never finished loll

I'm the eldest sibling at home, and my parents haven't always been around so I've been rather used to stepping up and taking care of myself (+ my sibling, like helping them with homework and all). Some people say I'm a natural born leader? idk bc I often step up to be the leader in group work & I'll often be the one to initiate things & all. I'm a rather big procrastinator though LOLL so you'll often catch me rushing my assignments & final projects & rushing my revision for exams + finals like, 2 days before the actual exam 💀 which often leads to me becoming more stressed out & breaking down more often than i actually should so 🥲 I'm trying to quit this bad habit though

I love cuddles and hugs please I will KILL for cuddles and hugs from my back by a tall character pls it just feels so safe and comforting to be spooned too 🥺🥺 sometimes when I'm too absorbed in work or something (which happens too often for it to be healthy) I might just forget to eat/sleep entirely AND also my sleep routine isn't the best. like i will literally fall asleep at 9pm, wake up in the middle of the night on my own at like, 1am, then usually I'll be rushing homework at this time, then maybe sleep again for a short while from 4ish? till when i have to get up for school/work at 5:30/6am 💀 there's been days where i literally looked so sick from the lack of sleep where my tutor once stopped the class to ask me if I was okay and if i was going to faint LMAO 😔 i feel like I'm a night owl??? but then also i have no problem getting up super early in the morning so?? but i really feel most at home and really enjoy the 3am nights 😌

i am also the class clown lol but it's bc i just make sarcastic comments and all and my friends think they're funny???? but also i enjoy making people laugh bc sometimes i find it interesting to try and see what kind of things make my friends laugh so it's lowkey an experiment? or like something i want to achieve? at this point. I'm fluent in English and Chinese/Mandarin and I'm learning Italian so I roughly know some basics, and I really enjoyed History, which I took last year but dropped this year. (I'm taking English Literature with Biology + Chemistry this year and they're all great, except I'm literally dying from the workload aaahhh 💀)

I'm kinda clumsy and Not Good™ at most sports, maybe passably okay for badminton but I'm really not that athletic and really not very keen on exercising either 😔 I'm quite creative and good with public speaking/creative writing/impromptu performance/speech though I'd say! I'm also in my school's drama club 😎 though I'm more of a backstage lights & sounds kind of person. I'm right handed (with a really neat handwriting, as I've been told many, many, many times) and I wear thin frame spectacles which I sometimes will fall asleep in & I'm so clumsy/careless that I'm actually really afraid I'd break them (it's happened before 😭)

I'm a really good planner? like i can do up a great and detailed schedule/plan for revision and all but i will NOT stick to what i plan 😭😭 i love to snack!!!! on chips + gummies especially, and my diet is quite unhealthy lmao i literally don't eat vegetables At All™ & i don't really eat meat that much too?? lmaoo please i can go for days without having a single proper meal & just survive on snacking on potato chips + soft drinks 💀 i am a very picky eater though so really me not finding food i like/am able to stomach is also really kind of my fault 🤡

while i really vibe with and love the dark academia aesthetic, i also do video/MOBA games, like i play games like Mobile Legends & all. I'm someone who knows most, if not all the lastest trends (like tiktok, memes etc) but i won't actively participate in them? i just kind of like to know things, like Knowledge is Power you know (I'm a Slytherin, in case you're wondering, though I've gotten Ravenclaw so often it's a close tie sometimes)

okay i feel like that's enough details about me? feels like I've told you nothing that's useful oh well LOL... I'd really love a ship for Criminal Minds and Marvel? if that's possible please? in case you missed it, i prefer men! (I'm a questioning bi, with a strong preference for men) for the hc prompt "what you do on your first date" or maybe "how you met + first impressions"?

thank you so much for being so kind and willing to do this ship requests thing!! I'm sure you're spending TONS of time and effort on this and aahhh i feel bad for typing so long paragraphs now (as you may have noticed i have a tendency to ramble on if not stopped because i am just really Socially Awkward ™ sometimes 💀 and have really bad (social) anxiety too) and i really think you're super amazing for doing this??? I'm so sorry if this took up too much of your time aaahhhhh thank you so so so much 🥺😭😭 really the biggest of congratulations to you for your 5.5k??? you really do deserve every single follower & i am SO insanely happy for you 🤩❤️

- 🌙🏒 anon

Don’t worry, you definitely provided enough information lmao. 

And thank you for your kind words, I appreciate it. 

I hope you like the ships I made for you

They are under the cut: 

Criminal Minds: 

I ship you with Hotch. 

You get the age-gap here lol. He would be a bit hesitant due to the age gap at first, but he would get over it because he can not resist. He does not seem like the type of cuddles, and especially does not take part in PDA. But when you are alone he would love holding you and spooning, especially after a long day of work. Aaron would be attracted to your uniqueness as well as your intelligence and aesthetic, finding it to be very “you”. 

How you met + his first impressions: 

You met when you were transferred to the BAU as the new Forensic Pathologist.

Hotch thought you were very interesting when you first met and was definitely intrigued by you. 

He thought you fit in fairly well and would get along with the others (which you do). 

He appreciates a sarcastic sense of humor, so he would dig that as well.

Hotch could tell you had a form of anxiety and wold be patient around you when you first met so that you could open up to him at your own pace.

What you do on your first date:

He takes you to a hockey game. 

He is not the sportiest person but he has had an interest in hockey for a while, sometimes watching it on tv. 

When he learned that you liked it, he decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to invite you on a date as well as to see his first game. 

After the game, you walked around town for a bit, getting some late night food and talking or a long time. 

This allowed you to open up to him quite a bit and you grew more comfortable around him as well, which he is very happy about. 

Best Friend: 

Your best friend is JJ. She thinks you are really cool and unique and nice. She has the type of personality that is easy t get along with and open up too, so you bonded with her quicker than the others. I also feel like she is into hockey as well, so she appreciates your love for it as well. 

-

Marvel: 

I ship you with Sam. 

I think Sam is a good fit for you. He is into sports, and digs your aesthetic. He is easy to get along with and very funny. He thinks your line of work is very interesting and loves to listen to you talk about it. Sam also really enjoys crime shows ans thrillers so he is always excited to meet someone who enjoys them as well. 

How you met + his first impressions:

You met through Nat, who you had met through SHIELD years before. 

You happened to be at the compound with Nat when Sam was there and she introduced you. 

He immediately thought you were pretty and very interesting.

Sam could tell you were shy, but that did not stop him from flirting.

Though he also made some jokes and was easy going as to not scare you off. 

He made sure to ask Nat about you once you left and managed to convince her to give him your contact info. 

What you did on your first date: 

He took you to the movies first, to watch the most recent crime thriller that came out. 

After the movie you went to a nearby park and walked around, talking about the movie and other crime/horror related stuff. 

You got food at a food truck and sat by the fountain together. 

He was appalled when you told him that you didn’t eat that often (if came a part of your relationship later on that he would try to cook you meals that you’d like just so you WOULD EAT). 

You ended up spending hours together, and it felt like no time at all.

So you were definitely up for another date with him, which he of course asked you about.  

Best-Friend: 

Natasha. She was the first one you met, and slowly introduced you to the others. She thought you were really cool when you first met and was surprised at how well you go along. That is sometimes hard for her to do, so once you became friends she never took that for granted. She and Sam would gang up on you when you weren’t eating btw. 

xxaaron

[mamabearcat]

Daddy Inuyasha

This doesn’t really have a title yet; I’ll think of one later! Written for @dangerouspompadour after this morning (or evening’s) conversation about kids needing to be fed every single night. A Papa Yasha story.

---

“You’re only gonna be gone for one night right?”

“Inuyasha, you’ll be fine”, soothed Kagome, stuffing more clothes into her bag. “I’m really sorry to have to leave like this, but Mama sounded so ill on the phone. I just want to check up on her.”

Inuyasha snorted, continuing to walk around the room with Izayoi’s tiny hands held in his, while their toddler squealed in delight, her little feet balanced on his larger ones.

“And Sango has promised that she’ll come pick her up early tomorrow and take her to daycare”, she continued, “so you’ll be able to get off to work in time. You just have to make sure to pick her up by 6pm, otherwise daycare will charge extra.”

“That’s good. And yeah, I can do that.” He had a meeting with an architect for his current construction project at 7.30am tomorrow morning; they’d only spoken on the phone as yet, but the guy already sounded like he had a stick firmly wedged up his arse. 

His head was still swimming a little. Kagome had got off the phone with her mother, booked a flight, texted Sango and then told him she’d be coming home Monday night all in under half an hour. He knew he’d be fine; Kagome did this all the time when he was called away for work. And he adored Izayoi. Maybe it would be fun? Some Daddy daughter time?

A loud beeping sounded outside the door. “Oh, that’s my taxi already”, squeaked Kagome, shoving her feet into her shoes. She picked up Izayoi and gave her a squeezy hug, smothering her round cheeks in raspberry kisses. “Be good for Daddy baby girl. Mama will be home at bedtime tomorrow okay? I’ll call you tonight.”

Inuyasha bent down to kiss his wife before she could run out the door. “Be safe, okay. Text me when you get there. I love you.”

“Love you too.” The horn beeped again loudly, and Kagome rolled her eyes. “I gotta go. Be good you two. I love you!”

They all moved out onto the verhandah, Inuyasha and Izayoi waving as Kagome ran down the path with her bag and climbed into the taxi, shutting the door behind her. All of a sudden Izayoi’s bottom lip trembled and her soft pointed puppy ears lowered. “Mama go?”

Inuyasha squeezed her tightly against him, dropping a soft kiss onto the dark curls between her ears. “Mama is visiting grandma. So it’s just us for a little while Princess. It’s gonna be fun right?”

The taxi drove away.

“I wa-want Mama!” Izayoi’s soft sobs escalated quickly, and the sound of her heartbreak pulled at Inuyasha’s gut. He hated Izayoi’s tears almost as much as Kagome’s.

“Hey, hey, c’mon now. We’re gonna have fun.” He bounced her a little in his arms, racking his brain for something that would take Izayoi’s mind off Kagome for a moment. “Do ya wanna watch Ponies with me for a little while?”

He braced himself for the usual loud squeal of excitement she let out whenever her favourite show was mentioned, but instead she tucked her head under his chin and hid behind the curtain of his long silver hair. He watched as she silently placed her thumb into her mouth, slow tears trickling down her cheeks.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 ---

Eventually Izayoi fell asleep on his lap, and he gratefully changed the channel. There was only so much pink and purple and magic of friendship he could take in one sitting. She’d watched the show with her cousin Rin, and she loved it. Kagome didn’t mind it. Him, not so much.

His stomach grumbled, and he angled his neck to look at the clock on the wall. Shit, it was nearly Izayoi’s dinner time. She usually ate earlier, and he and Kagome ate after she was in bed. When it was his turn to cook for him and Kagome he made steak. Or ramen. Both of those weren’t really toddler friendly. Cooking for Izzy was definitely Kagome’s thing. He though back over recent meals he’d seen Izayoi eat for dinner. Pasta. He was perfectly capable of cooking pasta, and he knew Izayoi liked it. Phew, crisis averted.

 -----

“No!”

Inuyasha was taken aback. As far as he was concerned, he’d cooked a perfectly acceptable dinner for a toddler. Pasta with peas and corn, and some fish fingers he’d dug out of the bottom of the freezer. “Izzy, c’mon, you like pasta. Daddy even cooked the ones that look like little bows!”

“No!” she growled, glaring at the plate in front of her.

“Izayoi!” he barked. He took a deep breath. “What’s wrong with the food on your plate.”

“Don’t like red!”

“Red?” And then it hit him. Kagome usually served Izayoi’s pasta with pesto, not tomato sauce. “Uh, we were all out of green. Why don’t you try it Princess, it’s yummy. Look, Daddy will eat some.” He picked up her tiny fork and took a mouthful of pasta. Not his favourite thing in the world, but perfectly fine.

Izayoi’s eyes looked like they were filling with tears again. Oh boy. His mind whirled frantically, trying to avert the tears.

“Hey, do ya know what else you can call fish fingers? Dippy sticks! Look!” He picked up a fish finger and poked it in the napoletana pasta sauce, then took a bite. “Mmm, dippy sticks, my favourite!” He made sure to scrunch up his eyes and twitch his ears for her, and his heart swelled in relief at the tiny giggle.

“I know, let’s have a race and see who can eat their dippy stick the fastest? I bet I can eat mine faster than you Izzy! Ready…”

“Steddygo”, squealed Izayoi, clutching a fish finger in her little fist and mashing it into the sauce. She took a mouthful and smiled at him. “Yummy Daddy!” She eventually ate most of her dinner, leaving the peas. Inuyasha couldn’t blame her, he didn’t think much of peas either. It was his job to put green things on her plate, he wasn’t going to force feed them to her if she didn’t want to eat them.

He scraped the peas into the bin and dumped the dirty plate in the sink, then piggybacked her to the bathroom. “Bath time for my princess. Do ya want bubbles?”

“Yeah!” She threw her arms out as wide as she could. “Lots and lots!” He chuckled.

“Okay squirt, you got it. Toilet first while Daddy runs the bath. You need help getting those shorts off?” he asked, pointing to the button and zipper.

She shook her head. “Nu uh. I a big girl.”

Just for a second, his eyes misted over, remembering the day she was born only three short years ago. One of the happiest days of his life.

“Do you think you could slow down the growing for me just a smidge, Princess?” he asked, watching as she flushed the toilet all by herself and then managed to finish undressing without help. The tiny underpants were a new thing that she was very proud of, because Mama had told her only big girls got to wear them, and she stroked them lovingly as she put her dirty clothes in the hamper. He snorted when he noticed they had purple and pink ponies on them.

She shook her head and stood on her tiptoes with her arms raised up high, grinning cheekily at him. “I bigger than Daddy!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Aw, that’s a shame, I guess you’re too big for me to do…. This!” And he picked her up and blew a huge raspberry on her stomach, then dropped her into the bubbles as she squealed with laughter.

When she was squeaky clean, and Inuyasha had been decorated with a variety of bubble beards and bubble hats, he helped her into her thicker overnight underpants and PJ’s, and snuggled her into her little bed with her favourite white dog toy tucked into her elbow.

“Story and song!” Izayoi demanded.

Inuyasha cringed a little. He’d forgotten about the song part of the bedtime routine. Kagome had a variety of songs she sang, and her voice was pleasant and mellow, perfect for lullabies. His, not so much. “Uh, I’ll do you a deal. How ‘bout, Daddy reads you a story, and we call Mama and she can sing you a song over the phone. How’s that.”

Izayoi blinked at him slowly. “Okay”, she said finally, with a skeptical look on her face, like he was trying to renege on a deal.

“Which story do ya want Princess. Eggs and ham? The one with the baby and the lion?”

“Witch and cat!”

“Room on the Broom it is then!” He grinned, because he liked doing the voices for this one, especially the dragon. He was halfway into the book when she crawled out of bed and into his lap.

“I am a dragon, as mean as can be, and I’m planning to have WITCH and CHIPS for my tea!” Inuyasha growled.

Izayoi clutched onto his shirt. “Dragon scary!”

Whoops. Maybe he’d gotten a little too into it this time. “Hey, it’s okay. We know the witch is gonna be fine because all her friends are gonna scare him away. He’s just a big scaredy dragon!”

Izayoi nodded, the soft pointed ears on top of her head flicking sleepily. She popped her thumb into her mouth as he finished the story, snuggling against him. By the time he was finished, her eyes were blinking slowly. He put the book back on the shelf and tucked her back into her little bed.

“Song”, she whispered.

“One song, comin’ right up.” He fished his mobile out of his back pocket and called Kagome. “Hi love. I have one sleepy princess requesting a bedtime song.”

“What. You’re not going to sing one?” she giggled.

“I think we both know that my talents in the bedroom lie in other areas.” She snort laughed and he grinned. “I’m putting you on speaker.”

Kagome’s soft voice cooed into the bedroom, and both Inuyasha and Izayoi sighed, ears twitching. “Hey little pup. What song do you want Mama to sing for you sweetheart?”

“Mama!” Izayoi said sleepily, her ears twitching towards the phone. “Love you Mama. Train whistle.”

Kagome laughed softly. “I love you too baby. Okay, are you listening?”

Izayoi nodded, and Inuyasha said softly, “Yep, she’s ready.”

Train whistle blowin' Makes a sleepy noise Underneath the blankets For all the girls and boys

Rockin' rollin' ridin' Out along the bay All bound for Morningtown Many miles away

“She’s asleep”, whispered Inuyasha softly, taking the phone off speaker and backing slowly out of the room. He sat down with a thump on the sofa. “How’s Mama?”

“They did some blood tests at the hospital, and apparently she’s really low in iron. They gave her a blood transfusion and she has an appointment to see a heamatologist next week.”

“Shit. Do they know why?”

Kagome sighed. “You know what she’s like. I doubt she’s been looking after herself properly, now that she doesn’t have Grandpa to look after. I was hoping now that she’d retired from the shrine that she’d do things that she loved to do, but I don’t think she’s doing that well Inuyasha.” Kagome’s voice sounded a little wobbly.

Inuyasha swallowed. He adored Kagome’s mother. He’d been a brash belligerent teenager when he’d first started going out with Kagome in senior highschool, and Kagome’s mother had seen it for the front that it was. Kagome had known that he was hurting after the sudden death of his parents in a car accident, and so had she. It was a situation the Higurashi’s were all too familiar with, after the loss of Kagome’s father.

Mama had refused to allow him to push her away, even though shrine families weren’t usually accepting of demons, and had loved him like a son. No one had been happier for them when he and Kagome had decided to get married. He loved her almost as much as he’d loved his own mother. He pictured the once bright eyed, busy woman sitting by herself in a small apartment. She was probably so lonely.

“Kagome. Do ya think she’d live with us? I mean, if she wanted, I could even build her a little house in the back yard. Then it wouldn’t be like she was livin’ in our back pocket. She could visit us when she wanted, and we’d be close by if she needed us. And Izzy would get to see her every day.” Kagome’s quiet sob on the other end of the line startled him. “Hey love, you okay?”

“I’m fine”, she sniffed. “I… I’m gonna ask her, okay?”

“Don’t cry! Dammit, I didn’t suggest it to make you cry, I thought it would make you happy! If she’s not lookin’ after herself, I want her to be closer!”

Kagome giggled. “I’m not really crying, I’m just… you are an amazing husband, do you know that?”

“Shut up.”

“You are! And an amazing Dad. How did dinner go?”

“I stuffed up a bit. Made her pasta with red sauce instead of pesto. But she ate most of it.”

“Good job Daddy.”

He could practically see the beaming smile on Kagome’s face on the other end of the line and he sighed. “I miss you Kagome.”

“I miss you too. Only one night, and then I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you bring Mama too, if she’ll come. We could probably get her an appointment here, couldn’t we?”

“I’ll ask her. You know how stubborn she can be some times.”

“Yeah”, he chuckled, “I know. I got two stubborn reminders that live in the same house as me.”

“Hey!” He heard a soft voice in the background. “Okay Mama, be there in just a moment.”

Inuyasha sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you want us to pick you up at the airport?”

“No, it’s okay – it’s usually crazy at that time of night, and it’s too close to Izzy’s bedtime. I’ll just catch a taxi. Good luck with that meeting tomorrow.”

“Thanks”, he snorted. “Can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to it. Guy sounds like a first class prat.”

“Just… hold your temper”, Kagome soothed. “Bottle it up, and you can grump about him to me when I get home.”

“Oh no. I got other plans for you when you get home.”

“Oh really?”

Inuyasha lowered his voice to a rough purr. “Maybe I can get you to sing a bedtime song for me. Last time I went down on you I’m pretty sure you hit a few soprano notes”, he grinned.

“Shut. Up!”

“You love it.”

“You just wait until I get home mister! No mercy!” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry hon, I gotta go, Mama’s calling. Love you.”

“Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks.”

Inuyasha ended the call despondently. The house just seemed empty without Kagome in it. He traipsed into the kitchen, opened the fridge, then shut it again. He looked in the cupboard, and there was one packet of ramen left on the top shelf. He couldn’t be bothered cooking anything else.

He slumped down on the sofa, clicking through the channels and then snorted in disgust, turning off the tv and his attention to his dinner instead. He may as well go to bed early without Kagome here, just in case Izayoi woke up during the night.

He dumped the plate in the sink and went and had a quick shower, groaning as he wondered if Kagome was in the shower at the same time as him, picturing her generous curves soaped up under swiftly falling water. Gods, he was pathetic. It wasn’t like they had sex every night, but now she wasn’t here, he missed her presence like a physical ache. He was away for work sometimes, true, but it seemed different somehow, when she wasn’t home and he was.

He dried himself off quickly, pulling on his soft grey sleep shorts and falling into the bed that seemed way too big without Kagome in it. He went over his meeting plans in his head, staring at the ceiling, wishing his wife was curled up next to him.

---

“MAAAAMAAAAA!” The high pitched scream had him bolting upright, and he flung himself out of bed, bashing his shoulder on the door frame as he careened down the hallway towards Izayoi’s room.

He kneeled down next to her bed. Her tear filled eyes were easily visible in the soft glow of the night light, and shuddering sobs shook her little body. “A Mons-ster!” she sobbed, trying to get her little arms free of the quilt. “Want Mama!”

“Hey baby, it’s okay, it was just a bad dream”, he soothed, stroking the sweaty hair back from her forhead. “There’s no monster here.”

“He ate Mama!” she sobbed, launching herself at Inuyasha. “Mama gone!” Her hiccuping sobs pulled at his heartstrings, and he picked her up, cradling her against his chest so that she could hear the solid beat of his heart.

“No monster”, he repeated firmly, as he carried her down the hallway towards his and Kagome’s bedroom. “Mama went to visit Grandma, and she’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yup. Sango will take you to daycare tomorrow, then Daddy will pick you up, and by the time you’ve had dinner and bath, Mama will be home again. I promise Princess.”

“Pinkie promise?”

It was a concept he had only recently educated in, but he nodded solemnly, viewing it as the sacred pact it was. “Pinkie promise”, he said, hooking his larger pinky finger around her smaller one.

His sleepy brain engaged a little more, and he walked them back towards the bathroom. “You wanna try goin’ to the toilet before you hop into Mama and my bed?”

“Okay.” She stood sleepily in front of the toilet and gazed at him without moving, so he turned her around and helped her pull down her PJ pants and underpants and plonked her on the toilet. He waited silently for a minute, then looked down to notice she was actually asleep sitting up. Chuckling as he fixed her clothes and picked her up again, he padded silently back to his bedroom, carefully placing her on Kagome’s side, hoping her scent on the pillow would help Izzy sleep.

He gazed at his little girl as she sprawled herself out like a starfish, her nose and ears twitching for a moment before she settled back into a deeper sleep. There was a time when he’d thought he’d never want children, because life had seemed to be determined to keep him alone. And then he’d found Kagome, or rather, Kagome had found him, bossing her way into his life and not taking no for an answer. And now they had this beautiful child together. His princess. He dropped a soft kiss onto the dark hair between her pointed ears and then settled back down to sleep himself.

 ---

“Daaaaadddyyyyyy!”

Inuyasha grunted as he felt the full weight of a solid three year old landing directly on his bladder. He opened one sleepy eye. “Yeah?”

“The door!”

“Fuu—iretruck!” he groaned, leaping out of bed at the sound of knocking on the front door. Had he slept in? Nope, 6.45am. He usually got up at 7. He opened the front door a crack, poking his head through. “Yeah?”

“It’s just us!” grinned a smiling Sango, holding Shinzu on her hip. “Miroku’s going to drop off the girls at school, so I thought I’d come over a little early and help you get Izzy ready for daycare.”

“Uh, okay?” said Inuyasha with a puzzled expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kagome texted me and told me you had an early meeting. Did I get it wrong?” She laughed at the suddenly panicked face Inuyasha made as he opened the door wide to let her in. “I take it you do have an early meeting?”

She stepped inside, then grinned teasingly at Inuyasha, pointing at his sleep shorts. “Is this a really informal meeting? Because I don’t think those are going to cut it.”

“Shut up”, he growled.

Izayoi ran towards Sango and hugged her legs. “Saaaango! Baby Shiiizuuuu!”

Sango ruffled the dark hair on Izayoi’s head, being careful of her pointed puppy ears. “Hey Izzy – you had breakfast yet?”

“No. Daddy asleep.” She held her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Daddy snores!” She stuck her fingers in her ears as if to emphasise how loud it had been.

“Way to rat me out kiddo”, muttered Inuyasha, raising an eyebrow at her. Izayoi hid behind Sango’s leg, then giggled some more.

“Go get ready Inuyasha, I’ll get Izzy off to daycare. I’m pretty sure I know where everything is.”

Inuyasha jogged towards the bathroom, then paused. “Thanks Sango, I really appreciate this.”

“Enough to babysit and give me and Miroku a night out?” she asked with a hopeful air.

Inuyasha thought for a moment about wrangling the twins, Shinzu and and Izayoi combined, then shrugged. “I’ll talk it over with Kagome, but yeah, sure.”

“Done. Stop talking and go get ready!”

He was back twenty minutes later in his business clothes, long hair neatly braided and the tie he only wore for meetings with clients already choking him. Izayoi was seated at the table, happily eating yoghurt and fruit. He dropped a kiss on her head. “Be good today Izzy. I’ll be there to pick you up from daycare, okay?”

“Okay, bye bye”, she said happily, making a funny face at Shinzu so the baby squealed in delight.

Inuyasha rushed out the door. “See you later Sango! And thanks!”

“You’re welcome!” she sang out, her voice punctuated by the loud slam of the front door.

 --- 

Inuyasha growled as he gripped the steering wheel, glancing again at the clock on the dash. 5.55pm. He’d already called ahead to tell the daycare director that he was stuck in traffic and should be there soon, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

The whole day had been a write off – filled with pointless meetings with pencil pushers and government know-it-alls that wouldn’t know good construction timeframes if they bit them on the arse. And thanks to them, he was late picking up his daughter, the very first time he’d been asked to do it. Shit.

It took another five minutes to find a parking spot, and he ran the rest of the way. The lights in the centre were off, but he knocked on the door, bouncing nervously, and a smiling lady let him in.

“Izayoi’s in the director’s office doing some colouring – right this way.”

“I am so sorry”, he panted, and the lady smiled at him, holding up a hand.

“It’s okay, you called and let us know what was happening. We let Izayoi know you’d be a little late, and she seemed fine. These things happen.”

Inuyasha poked his head around the office door. “Izzy?”

“Daaaadddy!” She vaulted herself into his arms, and he picked her up, giving her a squeezy hug.

“I’m sorry I was late baby. The car got stuck in traffic on the way here.”

Her bottom lip trembled a little. “Everyone gone home.”

“All the other kids have gone home?” She nodded. “I’m sorry you were the last one here Izzy.” Inuyasha turned his head towards the director. “I really am sorry for my lateness. I got caught up in meetings at work, and didn’t leave early enough to avoid the traffic.”

“That’s quite alright Mr. Takahashi. These things happen”, the director said, making a shooing motion with her hands.

They stopped to get Izayoi’s little backpack, then walked out of the centre.

“You know what?” said Inuyasha, swinging Izayoi’s little hand as they walked side by side towards the car. “Daddy had a grumpy day. And do you know what would cheer me up?”

Izayoi’s ears pricked up hopefully, and her eyes widened. “Ice-cream?!”

“Ice-cream”, he agreed, nodding seriously. “Should we eat it in a cone, or get some to take home?”

“Cone!” squeaked Izayoi, almost dancing on the spot.

Pretty soon they were sitting in an ice-cream parlour, Izzy with a small vanilla cone, napkin tucked into her shirt to save it from the drips, and Inuyasha with a towering triple scoop waffle cone monstrosity with extra fudge. Izayoi sighed happily as she licked, not quite fast enough to stop it dripping down her arm.

“I sticky.”

“Gotta keep licking!” said Inuyasha, turning her cone to the other side so she could lick the drips. If Kagome were here, she’d produce some of those wet wipes that seemed to fix a multitude of problems. Inuyasha snagged a couple more paper napkins from the paper dispenser and wrapped them around Izayoi’s little wrist, tucking the ends in. “There, that might help a little.”

“A bracelet! Thank you Daddy!”

Inuyasha snorted. “Glad to see my Princess is so easily pleased by paper jewellery. Keep licking Izzy, or it’ll fall.”

Once the ice-cream was eaten, it was time to go home. There was a short argument about keeping the soggy napkin bracelet, but after Inuyasha had promised to replace it with a real one when it was her birthday, she finally stopped stomping her small foot, and smiled. Crisis averted.

 ---

Inuyasha felt slightly guilty when he realised that Sango had done the washing up for him. Whoops. Oh well.

“You wanna help me make dinner Izzy?” he asked, hoping that would ward off any dinnertime disputes.

“Yeah!” She was rubbing her eyes a little sleepily, so he knew it would have to be something quick.

“How about boiled egg on toast?”

Izayoi looked at him quizzically, and Inuyasha remembered it was something she usually only ate for breakfast.

“It’s been a topsy turvy day. Let’s have breakfast for dinner!”

Izayoi snorted then giggled. “Silly Daddy!”

“Hey, it’s okay to be silly sometimes. Let’s boil an egg!” He let Izayoi pick an egg from the carton, then helped her place it carefully into the cold water in the saucepan. They put a slice of bread in the toaster, and she pushed down the lever herself, and then looked at him proudly.

“My princess is getting to be such a big girl!”

She nodded excitedly, then yawned.

Inuyasha buttered the toast and fished the egg out of the saucepan, peeling off the shell quickly and mashing it onto the toast.

“You want fingers or a squash sandwich?”

“Squash.” Her eyes blinked sleepily. He’d cut it pretty fine by taking her out for ice-cream; it was just about her bedtime now. Inuyasha picked her up and put her on her seat at the table. He folded the toast over carefully, making it like half a sandwich.

“Just eat a few bites princess, and then you can have a quick bath, okay?”

Izayoi nodded sleepily, then munched her way through the middle of the sandwich leaving all the crust.

“All done? Let’s go take that bath.” He ran a small bath, and washed her quickly; the fact that she wasn’t wanting to play told him exactly how tired she was. He lifted her out of the water and she stood on the bathmat as he rubbed her dry.

“Where Mama?”

Shit. Kagome had texted him that her plane had been a little delayed and she was just getting in a taxi, hopefully she would be home any minute.

“She’ll be here soon, Princess. How about Daddy will keep reading stories until she gets home?”

The bottom lip trembled a little. “Want Mama.”

Inuyasha helped her into her night time underpants and pj’s. “She’ll be here soon baby. Let’s go read those stories, okay?”

“Want Mama.”

Her little nose rubbed against his neck, ears flicking against his chin, and he felt a few warm tears slide down. Shit. C’mon Kagome. He carried Izayoi down to her bedroom, but instead of sitting on the chair, he sat down on her bed with her still cradled in his lap. She stayed curled up, her little thumb firmly in her mouth.

“Sad.”

“You’re feelin’ sad, cause Mama isn’t home yet?” Little nod. “I miss her too when she’s away. I love you and your Mama sooo much. All the way to the moon and back.”

“Moon story.”

“Goodnight Moon?” Izayoi shook her head.

“Rabbit.”

“Sorry kiddo, you’re gonna have to give me more than that. There’s a rabbit and a moon in the story?”

“Big Rabbit. Daddy Rabbit. And Little Rabbit. Izayoi Rabbit.” Inuyasha heart swelled and he dropped a kiss to her head. She was worse at tugging on his heartstrings than Kagome. Or better. Probably both.

“I think I know the one ya mean.” He reached over to her little bookcase carefully, and got a small battered boardbook. The first book they’d ever bought her, when she was still in Kagome’s womb. They’d bought it on the way home from the hospital after the ultrasound at twenty weeks. There were still little teeth marks around the edges where she’d bitten it as a baby.

“Guess how much I love you”, he began. A key clicked in the front door lock, and Kagome’s voice called out.

“Helloooo, I’m hoooome.”

“We’re in Izzy’s room”, he called out quietly, turning the page. “Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare’s very long ears.”

Kagome walked quietly into the room, leaning down to kiss Izayoi’s cheek.

“Mama”, Izayoi sighed sleepily.

“You want Mama to finish the story for ya Izzy?” asked Inuyasha. She shook her head.

“Daddy Rabbit.”

Kagome smiled at them both, and sat down on the chair. “I’ll listen too, if that’s okay.” She stroked Izayoi’s hair as Inuyasha read, and the little eyes drifted closed as he finished the last page.

Inuyasha rumbled a pleased sound through his chest. He couldn’t help it. Kagome was home, Izayoi was asleep and no longer sad. All was right in his world.

“Need some help escaping?” Kagome smiled. She helped lift Izayoi up gently so Inuyasha could slide out from underneath her, and Kagome pulled the quilt up over her, tucking her dog toy into her arms, and kissing her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Izzy.”

They tiptoed out of the little bedroom, and back down the hallway. Inuyasha picked up Kagome’s suitcase and carried it to their bedroom, Kagome following behind him.

“Mama didn’t want to come with you?”

“No. She was very definite about seeing the specialist there. Souta is taking the day off to go with her.”

“What did she say about our idea?”

“I think she might say yes. She’s thinking about it at the moment, but the idea of seeing Izzy everyday was very appealing”, smiled Kagome. She curled her arms around Inuyasha’s neck and hugged him tight. “I missed you so much! Did everything go okay with Izzy while I was away?”

“Pretty much. She missed you a lot. I did too.” His hands drifted down her back and over her bottom cheeks, suddenly wrapping around her thighs and lifting her up, snorting in laughter at her sudden yelp of surprise.

“We still haven’t finished the bedtime routine Ka-go-me”, he purred, walking over to their bedroom door and closing it firmly. “You owe me a song.”

[sillydodobird]

Glittery

Here it is, finally!!

This took forever and its insanely long and I can’t tell if i love it or hate it. I started this over a month ago and I just finished it. It’s one of the longest things i’ve ever written. Super sorry if anythings misspelled or wrong, It’s Christmas Eve and I really need to wrap presents! Happy Holidays to you all!

Paring: Chlonath 

Warnings: Kissing, Cursing. 

Length: 7K+, so buckle up. 

It’s probably the insane amount of sugar in her snickerdoodle latte that’s making her so sentimental. One is naturally sentimental around the holidays, but she’s looking at a really pitiful looking Christmas tree surrounded by more impressive Christmas trees. The small thing is barely 4 feet tall and kind of slouching to the side, but it’s adorable in its own little way. It has character. More character than the other overpriced 9 foot trees in the lot. 

Chloe has probably been staring at the tree a little too long because a teenager comes up to her and asks her if she needs help with anything. She makes a split-second decision and decides to buy the little charlie brown Christmas tree. She’s never actually bought a real tree, her parents grew up with real tree’s and both never wanted to deal with the hassle of having to care for a dead tree in their own living room, opting for the fake trees that are not as big of a fire hazard.

It’s not even December 1st and in the back of her mind, she realizes the tree might not make it until Christmas because of how early she bought it. Worse comes to worst she will just buy another one. 

This is the first year she’s spending most of the season alone, not going back to Paris until the day before Christmas eve. She can’t say she’s upset she won’t be with her father until then but she does feel a little out of place not being home.

She has her butler, Nico, drag the small tree in and place it right by the window, far away from the fireplace. She doesn’t have any Christmas decor at her apartment, this is the first of soon to come decorations. 

--

She hears him before she sees him. More accurately, she hears his weird gasp slash choked “Chloe?” 

Really she could ignore him, pretend she doesn’t recognize him, but some strange part of her longs for the normalcy of someone from Paris, even if that someone happens to be a hipster art student. She grinds her teeth before turning around to face him.

“Kurtzburg?” 

The ginger in question has changed since the last time she saw him, which was a little over a year ago. His hair is longer, pulled up into a messy bun. His cheekbones have gotten sharper and from what she remembers she thinks he’s gotten taller. Other things haven’t changed, he still has paint on his hands and he still has ripped jeans on even though it is 23 degrees outside.

Nathaniel doesn’t look nearly as confused as he sounds. She’s not sure if he’s shocked to see her because he didn’t expect to see a familiar face in New York or if he didn’t even know she was in New York. She, on the other hand, doesn’t know why he is in New York. Last she heard, he going to the royal college of arts in England.  

“What are you doing here? Are you on vacation?” He asks in french, which Chloe is grateful for because she really hates speaking English. 

Chloe fiddles with her Starbucks cup, her second of the day. “Uh, no. I live here.” 

Red eyebrows rise, “You live in New York?” 

“Yeah, I’m at FIT.” She doesn’t ask him what he’s doing here because she doesn’t really care.

“The fashion school?” Nathaniel asks, “That’s really cool, Chloe.” 

The blonde nods already feeling the awkward tension in the air. She’s not sure if Nathaniel can feel it, he’s always awkward, maybe he’s immune to it. 

He obviously doesn’t pick up on the weird air that comes with seeing an old classmate, “I’m at Columbia.” 

Oh great, the hipster goes to the college her father wanted her to go to. The Ivy League college that Chloe decided not to apply for because she did not want to follow in her father’s footsteps. Her father, while slightly disappointed, managed to be supportive of his little princess forging her own path in life. She realizes that this means she will probably be seeing him more than she wants too. 

“Very cool.” Her voice is monotone, displaying how uncool Chloe really finds it. 

He reaches up to grab a package of colorful Christmas lights from the shelf, “Well it was, uh, nice seeing you?” It sounds like a question more than a statement, and Chloe guesses the awkwardness is finally starting to register to the artist. 

“Goodbye, Kurtzburg.”

 Nathaniel makes a weird face like he’s second-guessing himself, “Uh...See you around, Chloe.” He leaves the aisle, taking the colorful lights with him. 

Once he’s out of sight Chloe lets out a breath. She can finally get back to shopping. 

-

Her townhouse is now a winter wonderland. A very well thought out the color scheme to be both holly and jolly but not nauseatingly so. 

Chloe decides to celebrate her newly decorated home with hot chocolate and watching Saturday Night Live’s Christmas special. 

-

Chloe really wonders how she managed to piss God off enough that he decides to make her life a living hell. 

She’s positive she’s cursed. Just today she woke up late and left her portfolio at her house, had to speed walk to class in 6-inch heels because her driver had a family emergency, almost twisting her ankle in the process and on top of everything her hair appointment had to be rescheduled. 

But now it’s pouring rain and she did not bring an umbrella. Even though it is well below freezing it’s not snowing outside, it’s just freezing cold rain. 

She’s sitting in Starbucks’s lobby, sipping hot chocolate and trying to work on her essay. It’s not due for another week but she feels like wasting time waiting for the rain to stop. 

Once again, she hears him before she sees him. He’s ordering a black coffee, weird how boring his coffee order is considering how artsy he is. His hair is down and he is wearing a ridiculously bright blue scarf that clashes terribly with his, well, everything. 

She’s debating on hiding behind her portfolio when he notices her. His blue eyes widening in recognition and she can see the moment of hesitation before he makes his way over to her. 

“Uh, Hey. Long-time, no see.” He jokes.

“Are you stalking me, Kurtzburg?” 

Nathaniel lets out whatever is a cross between a sigh and a laugh, “Still blunt as ever, I see. Would have thought you would have grown out of it by now.” 

Her blue eyes narrow, she doesn’t need or deserve attitude from a living breathing tomato. 

“What do you want?” She doesn’t want to attract any more attention to herself than necessary, the fact that they are speaking french is already attracting onlookers. 

“Nothing, Chloe. Believe it or not, I don’t seek you out. I’m just taking shelter from the storm, same as you.” 

Chloe hmphs but doesn’t bother responding to him. She bites her tongue when he decides to sit across from her. 

He takes out a sketchbook and some graphite pencils. She wonders how much he’s improved since the last time she saw his artwork. Admittedly, he was the best artist in their entire school. She remembers the beautiful paintings he did of Ladybug and Chat Noir and she can’t help but be curious about what is taking up pages in his sketchbook nowadays.

She resorts to sneaking glances at him. He doesn’t look at her, too focused on his art. His stupid hair falling in his face and he moves to push it behind his ears, where she notices he has multiple ear piercings. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looks to be having trouble with whatever he is drawing. 

After a while, he speaks up. “So why New York?” He doesn’t even look at her, still looking down at his art. 

For a moment she considers telling him to fuck off and let her write in peace, even though she hasn’t actually written more than two sentences. She decides to answer him with a smidge of politeness. 

“I like New York.” She really does love it here. It’s always busy and she doesn’t ever feel like people are watching her. Back in Paris, she could never let her guard down. 

“How does your father feel about you being here?” He’s put his pencil down, using his fingers to smudge the graphite. He still hasn’t looked at her but she hasn’t looked at her essay since he spoke. 

“Why do you care?” She spits out, she can’t tell if she’s annoyed at the fact that he’s asking such a personal question or if it’s the indifference his voice seems to project. 

“Curious. My parents hate that I chose to go to school in the states.” 

“Why did you come here? I thought you were destined for the Royal College of Arts.” She doesn’t realize she’s even asking the question until its out. 

Luckily Nathaniel either doesn’t notice how weird it is that his former bully knew where he was planning on attending college or just didn’t care. 

“Didn’t like the vibe.” He’s picked up his pencils again, fingers now dusted with graphite. 

Chloe bites back a laugh, “Didn’t like the vibe? What were they not hipster enough?” 

He does look up at that remark. His blue eyes meet hers and a weird feeling spreads through her stomach. His lips spread to let a small smile peep through. 

“Nah, just didn’t feel right.” 

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t try to get any more info out of him and he doesn’t bring up his previous question.

He does, however, ask what kind of classes she’s taking and she responds. It’s not awful, talking to the redhead. If anything it’s just nice to be able to converse in her natural tongue. She tries to figure out what he is drawing but he keeps it perfectly angled away from her. 

It’s about another 40 minutes when he starts to put his sketchbook away. She looks out the window and notices the rain has stopped. 

“Imma head on home.” He says while making eye contact with her. He has a soft smile and a dimple makes an appearance. He lifts his bag up and stands up.

“Bye.”

“Bye, Chloe. See you around.” He sends her one last smile, this time with teeth, and walks out the door.

Chloe tries her best to look uninterested, gives him a small wave and looks back to her laptop. She’s only managed to write two paragraphs in the last hour. 

Chloe tries to stay and finish her essay but quickly gives up after 20 minutes. 

It’s not like her essay is due tomorrow anyway.

-

Chloe manages to score an A on her marketing exam and she celebrates by taking a walk through the city to do some Christmas shopping. She’s already bought her parents, Adrien ( and by extension Mariantte), Sabrina, and all of the people her father employes to make her life easier. She did manage to contact her driver’s wife and plan a small romantic vacation for the two of them, so she's able to cross off ‘good deeds’ on her checklist. 

Chloe is admiring the newest line from Versace when she sees him.

She is 98% convinced he is stalking her and the next thing she should do is file for a restraining order.

He’s in a very ugly silver puffy jacket, jeans, and boots. He has a beanie on covering most of his hair but is unable to cover the unruly locks. She wonders how an artist can be so fashionably challenged. 

He’s also carrying bags, not shopping bags because Chloe highly doubts he can afford to shop in this plaza. 

She decides to ignore him. He obviously didn’t see her and she's definitely not about to walk up and start a conversation with him.

She does, however, see him when she walks towards the Channel Gardens. He has a camera in his hands and he’s zooming from tree to tree snapping away pictures. She didn’t know he was interested in photography, she wonders if this is for a personal project or a mandatory school project.

She turns away and starts her journey home. It’s below freezing and she’s ready to watch the polar express and wrap presents.

And if her thoughts drift to the redhead in the garden, well no one can prove it.

-

She’s listening to Terror Jr and trying to find inspiration. She doesn’t know if it’s because of the holiday stress but she has been severely lacking any inspiration. 

Chloe hates feeling like this. She feels like how she imagines the color brown to feel like. Boring, unimaginative and overall yucky. 

She is getting nowhere on this stupid essay and she’s also getting nowhere with the spreadsheets she needs to have completed by the end of the week. 

She’s at Starbucks again because while she does go to a fashion school the library is always crowded around this time of year and she’s claustrophobic. She’s only been in the Starbucks for a while, she’s only on her first toffee nut almond milk latte. 

Her father FaceTimes her, which is honestly surprising. Who taught him how to do that? Jean? 

The camera is pointing to the ground so she sees some of his shoes and the floor. He’s discussing the annual Christmas dinner at their house with all of their extended family. Chloe zones out through most of it until he asks if she’s bringing a plus one, during school, Sabrina used to be her plus one but now she can’t see that happening. She tells her father she doubts it and puts on a smile so he forgets about it. He’s perfectly fine going back to rambling on about Paris and his mayoral duties.

She manages to hang up with her father and goes back to writing her essay. It takes her about another 2 hours, and two more latte’s, but she manages to finish it. 

-

He finds her at Target again. She wants to know why he’s at Target so often and then realizes she can’t find that weird because she’s at target most days. 

“Maybe I should be worried about you stalking me, Bourgeois?” He teases. 

“Fuck off, Kurtzburg.” She doesn’t hold back this time but instead of being intimidated he, however, lets out a laugh and smiles a toothy smile at her. 

“Oh Chloe, it’s no biggie. I don’t mind.” 

Chloe rolls her eyes and starts to move her cart away from him, tempted to run over his feet. 

He catches up with her, “Alright, sorry. I just think it’s funny that this is the second time I've seen you at target.”  

“Have you looked at the calendar? It’s less than 6 weeks until Christmas.”

Nathaniel nods, keeping pace with her even as she tries to speed up. “Ah, nope had no idea.” 

She abruptly stops and he stumbles a bit. 

“What do you want?” She asks 

“Nothing. I just think it’s a funny coincidence.” he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“So you’re bothering me because?” She snaps.

He lowers his hands and she’s ready to hear whatever bullshit is about to flow from his mouth.

“I think we should hang out.” Her eyes widen and Nathaniel is quick to continue to add on. “I think we should hang out because it’s nice to see someone from home.”

“Come on, Chloe. We should at least try hanging out once.”

She glares at him, “Doing what?” 

He averts his eyes and shoves his hands into his orange hoodie, “Well...I uh…” He stutters “I really didn’t think you’d let me talk long enough for me to get to that.” 

Chloe rolls her eyes and walks away. If he wants to hang out with her, he’s gotta do better than that. 

-

They do become friends or what Chloe would call acquaintances who don’t hate spending time together.

 She grows used to the way Nathaniel dresses. She doesn’t approve of it but she is used to it. 

She grows used to the way he constantly doodles. How his hands are often covered in paint.and how he always had at least 3 earrings in. 

She’s not even really sure why he’s even trying to be friends with her. It’s not as if he doesn’t have other friends in New York, she’s seen his Instagram stories that include friends who she imagines share the same passion for art. 

But she’s now in those Instagram stories. He’s developed a habit of snapping photos of her and adding them to his story. He always tags her and she wonders if he’s completely okay with all of their old friends and classmates knowing they are hanging out. 

The first time she puts him in her story and tags him, he sends her a small little heart and smiley face emoji. No one is around to see her blush and therefore it’s totally fine. 

-

He’s asked for her help with some art project, something about Christmas lights and free not chocolate. Chloe doesn’t turn him down and now they are in the middle of Rockefeller Center, staring at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree.

Chloe is sipping on her hot chocolate, with extra mini marshmallows. Nathaniel is setting up his art supplies, thankfully it looks like he just plans to sketch and not paint. She wonders how long this is going to take and if they should go out for dinner afterward. 

The ice skaters are all around and Chloe remembers when her parents first took her here when she was a little girl. She hasn’t been ice skating in a few years and she’s pretty sure she would look like a newborn baby giraffe trying to skate. 

She’s content to people watch but Nathaniel wants to talk apparently. He’s gotten into the habit of playing a game like twenty questions, something about them needing to know more than the basics about each other. 

“What is your favorite Christmas song?” 

In all honesty, it’s probably that Pennies from Heaven song from the movie Elf but she doesn’t say that, “Merry Christmas, Darling by the Carpenters.”

“A classic.” He says while looking up at the tree, hand still moving across the paper. 

“What about you? Is it something like super obscure? Must be Santa by Bob Dylan?” She laughs.

“What? No! What even is that? Is it good?” 

“It’s definitely weird.” 

He laughs and Chloe realizes she doesn’t hate the sound. Doesn’t make her want to grind her teeth, his laugh is not obnoxious but it’s genuine. Like he’s honestly having fun just sitting here working on an art project with her. 

“It’s Please Come Home For Christmas.” He says after he’s stopped laughing “By The Eagles.” 

They go back and forth for a bit, she finds out he thinks Eggnog is better than hot chocolate which Chloe calls bullshit on and Nath finds out that she can’t possibly pick a favorite Christmas movie because they are all good, including the shitty hallmark ones. 

It’s around 11 o’clock. The crowd has died down and there’s no one around besides the stray couple still ice skating. Nathaniel is putting the finishing touches on his sketch. It’s gorgeous of course, he’s managed to blend the colors of the lights on the bright green Christmas tree to make it look as if they are twinkling, he’s also drawn the ice skaters and the hot chocolate vendor. She’s amazed he managed to put this much detail into something that’s only taken him 2 hours. 

“So what do you think?” 

It takes her a moment to realize he’s asking for feedback. She’s not sure why he’s asking someone who has very little artistic talents but she gives her honest opinion. 

He blushes when she tells him that it’s amazing. His cheeks a similar color to his hair. It really shouldn’t be cute but it totally is and Chloe wants to see it more often. 

-

They go to a special showing of Elf. It’s dark in the theater and she’s currently munching on popcorn and Nathaniel is sipping on his ICEE. 

She’s trying to focus on the movie because it really is one of her favorites. However, her mind keeps drifting to the redhead who just moments earlier was mistaken for her boyfriend. 

The usher at the movie theater just happened to mention how cute of a couple she thought they were, which side note: if they were an actual couple they would most definitely be the cutest couple.

Nathaniel didn’t even correct her, neither did Chloe. Which makes her mind race. Why didn’t he correct her? Does he care if people think they are dating? Does he want people to think they are dating?

Now her mind is curious how he would be as a boyfriend. The seed has been planted in her head. She wonders what he would wear on the first date, where would he take her, would he kiss her on the first date? How does he kiss? Is it soft and slow or fast and passionate? Would he be in control or would he let her take control? Would she want him to be in control?

Her thoughts are swarming around and she doesn’t even notice he’s talking to her until he taps her on the cheek. 

She smacks his hand away and glares at him. Just because she was entertaining the idea of kissing him doesn’t mean he can bother her. 

“You zoned out, I wanted to know if you wanted a refill?” He asks looking down at her now almost empty popcorn tub. 

She would actually love some sour patch kids but she’s not going to ask for that. “I’m fine. Thanks.” 

He smiles at her and then stands up and walks out of the theater. 

Chloe has finally managed to get her thoughts together enough to start enjoying the movie when he walks back in. He sits down and she figured he would go back to watching the movie but he turns to her, hands her two boxes of sour patch kids(original and watermelon) and puts his arm over the back of her chair.

 Chloe gives up trying to watch the movie. 

-

They are building a gingerbread house. Or more accurately Nathaniel is designing a beautiful gingerbread house, with intricately placed candies and icing. Chloe, on the other hand, gave up after 10 minutes; deciding to let the artist do what he wishes. She’s content to watch the grinch, the original animated version, and drink Eggnog. 

Chloe doesn’t really remember why he even came over, it’s a Saturday and she really should be studying for her finals. She shouldn’t be spending time with the artist who is way too invested in this editable house. But his tongue is slightly sticking out and his hair is disheveled like always. He’s also mumbling to himself about aesthetics and weight limitations. 

“The older I get the more I relate to the grinch.” She says.

Nathaniel is adding what looks like some candy shrubbery to the side paneling, “You love Christmas though, Chlo.” 

If Chloe wasn’t paying attention she might have missed that. He called her Chlo for the first time. The only other person who calls her that is Adrien, and yet it feels very different coming out of Nathaniel’s mouth. Somehow more intimate and affectionate. She wonders when they reached the point of nicknames. Would it be alright for her to call him Nath? Did he even realize he did it? 

Chloe recovers quickly though, “Of course I love Christmas, I meant that I understand where he’s coming from.”

Nath breathes a laugh, “Yeah? You gonna run away to live in a cave with a dog?” 

She rolls her eyes and goes back to the movie. 

-

While she likes to pretend that she is 100% aware and in control all the time, it’s not true. Right now she has no idea how this happened. When did they get into this position? She doesn’t remember him moving his arm to rest over the top of the couch, or when her legs decided to intertwine with his. She remembers how far apart they were when they first sat down though.

She wants to know if he noticed how close they’ve gotten. If he was just as unaware of it as her or if was secretly inching closer to her all night. She can smell him, and she’s trying hard to not being creepy about it at all. He smells strangely warm and fresh. She always kind of expected him to smell like art, like acrylic paints and clay. Instead, he smells like clean laundry and spiced oranges. 

They are watching it’s a wonderful life on her tv. The fireplace is crackling and the Christmas tree is glittering in the corner. Nathaniel is fully engrossed in the movie. He admitted that he had never seen the movie before and so here they are, sitting entirely too close together. 

She is honed into the fact that his right hand is absentmindedly stroking her hair. She wonders if he would notice if she moved her hand from her lap to his thigh and if she did would that be too forward? 

She decides to take a leap of faith because she’s not thinking straight and she can’t tell if it’s because of him or if it’s because of the glass of wine she had earlier. 

Her hand moves and she lets it rest gently on his thigh and she can feel him tense up beneath her. He doesn’t move or shove her off of him so she’s taking that as a good sign. 

Chloe is distracted by the movie when he moves, he jostles them so she is practically in his lap, he moves so one of his hands is on her hip and the other still in her hair. 

Nathaniel rests his chin on top of her head and she’s not breathing properly. She’s not paying attention to George Bailey or Clarence. She feels like she might overheat, he’s so warm and he smells so good. 

He hasn’t looked at her or acted like this is unusual even though they’ve never ever been this close to each other. He’s acting like this is completely normal, that she’s always been able to feel how his chest feels against her back or how his fingers feel on her hip.

Chloe wonders if he knows what he is doing to her? 

Does he know she feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest?

Does he know how he makes her feel? How safe and happy she feels?

She doesn’t want to move, wants to stay in this moment forever or at the very least the entire night. But unfortunately, life gets in the way and Nathaniel whispers to her after the credits start to roll that he has to head home and that she should get some sleep. 

Chloe gets very little sleep that night. Instead, she spends hours tossing and turning, remember the way it felt to be held by him.

—

“Are you going back to Paris for Christmas?” 

The question doesn’t startle her, she’s been expecting it. Christmas is less than two weeks away. 

“Yeah, I still need to book my flight. What about you? Are you going back for Hanukkah?” She knows his parents miss him and even if he doesn’t say anything she can tell he misses them when he’s speaking with them on the phone. 

Nathaniel nods, “The semester ends on the 18th so I’ll probably leave on the 19th.”

They are in her kitchen, making some stupid holiday cookies that will probably burn in the oven but Nath seems excited.

“Do you think you’ll meet up with anyone from school?” She asks after a short pause. She is curious if he still talks to anyone back home. She doesn’t really speak to Sabrina anymore besides the occasional text every now and then and Adrien is busy with his career and Marinette. 

Nath shrugs and continues kneading the dough. His hair is very disheveled and she ponders when she started finding that attractive in a man. 

“I might meet up with Alix and Kim, maybe Max.” He says. “But I don’t think our schedules will match up well.” 

Chloe nods, she wants to know if their schedules match up. If this weird friendship they’ve managed to form will exist in Paris. Nathaniel doesn’t seem to be afraid to let people know they are friends, he’s posted about her enough on Instagram.

But she desperately wants to know if Nathaniel talks about her to anyone else. And if he does, what does he tell them. Wants to know if he talks about her with the fondness only one can talk about someone they treasure. 

He’s tearing open the packaging of the cookie cutters, with his teeth because Nathaniel could care less when he tells her they should travel together. 

She chokes on the glass of eggnog she’s drinking. 

“What?” 

“I said we should travel together, flying by yourself is so boring.” He says this way too nonchalantly. 

Chloe resorts to just staring at him, confused and slightly shocked. 

“I thought your parents would be picking you up from the airport.” She says and she can see that he doesn’t seem to understand why she’s apprehensive. 

“Yeah? And?” 

-

They do end up flying together, Chloe convinces him to let her pay for his first-class seat because she is not about to ride in Economy just because he decided to tag along. 

It’s an 8-hour flight. Nathaniel is wearing grey sweatpants paired with a Columbia hoodie and she’s not sure she’s ever seen him look less like a hipster. He is still wearing some very ugly sneakers so she guesses the world hasn't ended just yet. 

He’s seated across from her, watching a movie on his Ipad. It’s only about 3 hours into their flight and she wishes she could just fall asleep. 

She watching the Sound of Music, but in all actuality, she ends up watching the way Nathaniel’s hair falls into his eyes and counting how many freckles litter his nose and cheekbones.

-

She’s standing at the luggage pick up and Nath is standing next to her. Vaguely she realizes onlookers definitely see them as a couple. She moves a tad bit closer to him. To make it easier for other people looking for the luggage, of course. 

Chloe has met his parents before, Victor and Lisel. His parents are kind and warm, and it’s so obvious that they love their son. His mother latched on to him as soon as she saw him. His father actually greeted Chloe first. He is so unlike her own father that she instantly tensed up before he smiled at her. 

Lisel lets go of her son and immediately goes to hug Chloe, which startles her. She supposes other families are more touchy than her own but she still wasn't expecting it. She timidly hugs Nathaniels’s mother back. Nathaniel shoots her a smile when they pull apart and she works harder to push those butterflies down. 

-

She supposes she believed her parents would be waiting for her to arrive home. However, the only two who greet her are the family butler Jean, who takes her bags and then gives her a quick hug, and the family dog, a Shih-Tzu named Beignet. 

Beignet jumps into Chloe’s arms and demands attention, which is fantastic. It takes her mind off of her parents. 

Jean takes her bags to her room and Chloe makes her way through her childhood home. The entire hotel is decorated for Christmas with plastic trees littered around every corner. This year's theme is very pastel Christmas, baby blues and frosted green baubles and light pink bows. 

Beignet squirms in her arms and she sets the tiny dog down who then tries to get her to play a game of tug of war with a nearby toy. Chloe entertains him until he tires himself out, curling up beside his plush faux fur doggy bed by the fireplace.

-

Her mother is the first one to arrive home. Tossing her bag to Jean, who doesn’t even bat an eyelash at her antics. Butler arrives behind her, carrying multiple shopping bags. Her mother embraced her in a hug that Chloe returns, albeit the hug is very awkward and kind of robotic because they rarely hug. 

Chloe is wondering what has gotten into her mother when she releases her and begins to speak. “Chloe, my love, I found the most amazing dress for you to wear for Christmas dinner! It’s going to look dazzling on you!” 

Her mother continues rambling on even well after Chloe stopped listening.  

-

Her father comes home much later. Chloe is sound asleep on the couch with Beignet curled up next to her, Christmas Vacation still playing on the tv. Her father drops a kiss on her head and gives her a small squeeze. Chloe, recovering from jet lag, sleepy mumbles a greeting to her father. 

-

Nathaniel forces Chloe to hang out with Alix and Kim. They go Ice skating and Chloe only trips a couple of times. Kim, however, fell multiple times until Alix took pity on her boyfriend and grabbed his hand to lead him around the skating rink. 

Nathaniel asks her after Alix and Kim left if she had fun. Chloe tells him it wasn’t as deplorable as she would have thought and Nath rewards her with hot chocolate. 

-

It’s Christmas Eve and she hasn’t seen him since they went ice skating with Alix and Kim. She can’t lie to herself and say she doesn’t miss him. It’s been less than 48 hours but it feels like it’s been so long. 

She knows he’s not avoiding her. She knows that he has plans with his family. She spends time doing some self-care, taking a hot bath, drinking wine, and watching the Muppets Christmas Carol. 

It’s around 9pm when he calls her. 

His voice is hard and she can hear the cold wind through the speaker. 

“Are you home?” He asks.

“Yeah, but I’ve already changed into my pajamas so-“

“I’m outside. The doorman won’t let me in.” 

Of course, they wouldn’t let him in, they won’t let anyone in unless she told them too. 

She forgoes the elevator, opting to run down the stairs. She’s in her Hello Kitty pajamas and her hair is down and she has absolutely no makeup on. 

she gives the doorman, Georg, permission to let him in. Nathaniel all but runs inside, his hair is messy and awful, he has snowflakes on his jacket and she belatedly realizes that he’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. He comes straight to her, she doesn’t know what happened but something seems to be wrong. His eyes are hardened and she suddenly has a flashback to when they were kids and he was akumatized. 

She’s grabbed onto his wrist and is pulling him up the stairs to her bedroom, she doesn’t even bother looking back to see the look she knows Georg is giving her. 

Once they reach her bedroom he immediately makes his way over to her bed, uniting his shoes and taking off his hoodie. 

He’s laying down on her bed, she hasn’t moved, opting to lean against the closed door. He looks exhausted and drained. She wonders what happened, she assumes it’s something to do with his family and she wonders what in the world could have happened. She’s also having a very small moment of panic at the image of Nath in her bed. He looks comfortable and a little too good against her bedspread.

“You can come over here, you know.” He says after a while. 

She slowly moves to her bed, unsure if he wants to talk about what happened, or if he wants to outright ignore it. She finally sits at the foot of her bed, next to his sock-clad feet. 

“Just lay down, Chlo.” He nudges her with one of his feet and she decides to give in. 

She positions herself a respectful distance away from him. He doesn’t allow that.

He reaches over and puts an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, fitting them together and Chloe stops herself from thinking they are like puzzle pieces. His fingers are gently moving across her exposed shoulder, and his feet touch hers and she belatedly realizes he’s trying to intertwine their feet. 

She’s entirely too close to him. Friends do not cuddle each other. They definitely don’t allow their fingers to roam over the other's chest and they definitely don’t imagine themselves planting kisses on their jaw and neck. 

Chloe’s brain is foggy and filled with thoughts of nothing besides the redhead and the way he smells and how nice it feels to be held by him. 

She sneaks a peek at him and finds him already looking at her. She tries to think of something to say to break the silence but he interrupts her.

He interrupts her in the best way possible.

She remembers debating with herself about how he would kiss, but anything she could imagine pales in comparison. His hands are on her jaw and neck, his lips are not rough against her but not soft. 

She knows he can probably feel her shivering when his hands drift down to her waist and especially when one holds on to her upper thigh. 

She wastes no time in exploring him as well. She hesitantly bites his bottom lip and his hand on her thigh tightens in the most delicious way. His mouth opening for her and it’s now a whole different type of kiss. 

One of her hands is holding tight on his hair, allowing her fingers to pull slightly and he makes a noise that Chloe will try forever to recreate. Her other hand is moving down his chest and she stops them right above his sweatpants. 

She’s trying to figure out what her next move should be when he pulls away from her. Her heart stops and she’s nervous he’s going to take everything back and tell her this was a mistake. 

He, however, moves his attention from her lips elsewhere. His mouth pressing kisses to her cheek, jaw, and neck. He even presses a small kiss below her ear and she swears she swoons. 

He places one final kiss on her neck with a soft bite and then he pulls her even closer. Nathaniel embraces her and she has the chance to gather her thoughts now that his lips are not attached to her anymore. One of his hands is still on her thigh but the other one moved to her hair. 

He breaks the silence. 

“Your hair is down.” 

That’s what he’s going with? Mentioning her hair? 

“Well...I was going to bed before you barged in here.” She teases. 

He snickers and she feels it more than she hears it and that makes her entire face flush. 

“I like it. Your hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it down.” 

She hmm’s and is curious if they are going to act like the kiss didn’t happen and continue being just friends. That idea doesn’t sit well with her and she wants to latch onto him even tighter. 

“If it wasn’t obvious, Chlo. I do like you. A lot. Like a lot a lot.” 

Chloe laughs in relief and instead of responding she moves back to kiss him. 

Unlike the other kiss, this one is soft and sweet. Her hand goes to his face and she traces a thumb over one of his cheekbones. His hand moves from her thigh and wraps itself around her waist. She feels him smile into the kiss which makes her heart flutter. 

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.” He says when they separate.

“It’s 10pm on Christmas Eve.” She points out and he tickles her in response. 

-

He leaves around 1am on Christmas morning, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and then he’s out the door. Georg shoots her a small smirk and winks at her when he closes the door behind Nathaniel. She can’t even feel embarrassed instead she feels all tingly inside. 

-

“Merry Christmas, Chloe. For real this time.” He says when Georg opens the door. “Merry Christmas to you too, Georg.” Who in turn just nods his head in acknowledgment. 

She grabs his hand and pulls him inside. 

“Happy 4th night of Hanukkah, Nath.” She kisses his cheek and tries to walk into the hallway. 

Nathaniel has other plans and pulls her into his arms and kisses her. It’s nothing major but it’s sweet and makes her feel tingly again. 

It’s hours later, after awkward introductions and her father interrogating Nathaniel, snuggled by the fireplace with Beignet curled up at Nath’s side, she asks him what had him upset last night. 

He blushes and tightens his hold on her, he mumbles something about Alix and Kim which makes her very confused. 

“What? What happened with Alix and Kim? Did you guys have some kind of fight?” Even though Alix and Chloe are very different, Chloe can see what a good friendship Alix and Kim have with him. 

He shakes his head and moves so his head is digging into her shoulder and hair. 

“Alix and her annoying boyfriend said if I didn’t do something soon, someone would steal you away.” He says and then pulls away from her with wide eyes. “Not that I see you as some type of property! I don’t think that! I promise! I just kept thinking about it last night and I had to do something.” 

Her boyfriend is biting his lip and nervously petting Beignet. Chloe can’t help but love how flustered he looks.

“I’m glad they said something. If they didn't, who knows how long it would have taken for you to confess.” She says, her hand moving to his neck to play with the ends of his hair. 

“Hey! Why couldn’t you be the first one to confess?” He protests but grabs her hand in his and moves to pull her closer. 

“I could have, but I couldn’t tell if you liked me that way or not.” She says.

He presses a kiss to her temple, “You couldn’t tell? Even after I didn’t correct the movie usher? Or after I practically cuddled you to death while watching it’s a wonderful life? Really Chlo?” 

“I thought maybe you were just one of those touchy-feely friends.” 

He scoffs and she giggles more. 

“Well, Chloe Bourgeois. I want you to know that I really adore every little thing about you. Even if you obviously have zero taste when it comes to superior holiday drinks. Eggnog is obviously better than Hot Chocolate.” 

She smacks him lightly on his chest and he laughs. She giggles into his chest, content to just stay there with him while the fireplace roars with Andy Williams plays in the background. 

[poppibranchlover]

Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 15

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 14. Now get ready for Part 15!:

By the time Poppy and Branch got into the queen’s pod, it was already nighttime. They cleaned themselves up and then get ready for bed.

Not wanting to feel left out and having completed his main objective, Branch wanted to sleep beside Poppy rather than sleeping in isolation on the shelf near the window. She saw him on his bed feeling proud of himself and gently petted his head.

“Goodnight, Mr. Tickle,” said Poppy. “You’re the best little kitten I’ve ever adopted!”

After kissing Branch’s forehead, she immediately went to sleep. Branch scooted closer to her and snuggled beside her, smiling and somehow enjoying his life as a cat.

Halfway during his slumber, Branch started to wake up. He cautiously scanned the room and stared at Poppy, who was still sleeping. He knows he couldn’t waste any hour right now and he needs his Show-and-Tell project to be finished before morning.

Branch stared at Poppy’s clock, trying to figure out what time it is now. Okay, I don’t have much time left, he thought to himself. I have to get to work before sunrise!

Then he jumped out of the bed and sprinted to the dining table, where a giant red cloth is covering something underneath it.

Branch carefully pulled out the cloth, revealing his construction equipment he had gathered from his bunker earlier this afternoon.

Satisfied at his choice of duty, Branch crept under the table to admire his tools he needs to make his project. He was so eager to win the contest tomorrow that he wanted to get started right away.

“All right!” he said triumphantly, cracking his knuckles and pulling out a neat-detailed blueprint. “In these clear well-written equational documents, I’m gonna know how to construct some stuff!”

Wiggles peeked from behind Branch’s trusty toolbox, holding up an eaten carrot. “How are you gonna do that?” he asked. “You’re just an ordinary tiny kitten!”

Branch couldn’t believe Wiggles was asking some questions on how a cat can build inventions. He sighed with exasperation and told him “It’s going to be fine, Wiggles. I can really build a great invention of mine that easily. I have four arms, just like Cooper!” He held up a paw, showing five of his pads sticking under it.

Wiggles chomped on his carrot. “But each time you pick up a tool with your teeth, you’re gonna lose some momentum!” he warned.

Branch eventually saw what the tiny rabbit was doing just now. He pointed at the carrot and demanded “What are you even eating?”

Wiggles stopped nibbling and examined his meal for a moment. It took him some time to remember where did he get it. “I think I just found it in a giant bowl of ‘white flowers’ on your owner’s pantry,” he answered meekly, trying not to be ashamed.

Branch was stunned. He can’t believe that that little bunny was stealing something from Poppy! “No, Wiggles. Those are cauliflowers,” he protested. “And you know where cauliflowers come from?”

“A flower garden?” asked Wiggles absentmindedly.

“Vegetables!” Branch corrected him firmly. “Cauliflowers are vegetables like that carrot you stole!”

“Okay, so what’s the difference between flowers or ‘cotton flowers’?” Wiggles wondered. “I didn’t even think-”

Branch tilted his head down to the floor and groaned with frustration. This rabbit is very dumb and doesn’t seem to know the world of Trolls very well. “Can’t you just get it right, little bunny?!” he insisted. “Don’t you remember the rule of staying here?”

“I did!” Wiggles said with a reassuring nod. “You said I follow exactly what you said!”

“Then why should I bring you here for a reason?” Branch asked, folding his tail between his back legs.

“Then what about your plan for that “so-called” Show-and-Tell party?” Wiggles snapped back. Branch just stepped back quietly. “You’re gonna waste some time when you keep talking to me and comment about my Thanksgiving dinner!” Then he paused for a second, seething. Branch was too startled to reply. The little bunny stared at his half-eaten carrot and shook his head with a sigh. “I shouldn’t be stealing that from Queen Poppy. I’m very sorry.”

“Uh, that’s alright,” Branch told him, trying not to offend him even more. “She didn’t even eat any carrot like that, and I think you can deserve it.”

Wiggles was grateful for his words. He stared at Branch’s blueprint, and then at the night sky through a window. “It seems like time is flying so fast,” he said.

Branch immediately knew what Wiggles was trying to tell him. He looked at the same window and realized what that meant. It is getting closer to the next morning. “I think you’re right, man,” he said. “I don’t have much time left before sunrise! I gotta get started!”

Wiggles was shocked. “Yes, but how are you gonna build a good structure like a—?”

But the plan is already happening very quick. Branch whipped out his tools and his wooden planks from his toolbox and got ready to work.

Surprised that he was carrying a large saw despite his small cat size, Wiggles’ jaw dropped. “Oh….uh, well….that is fine,” he muttered nervously.

In a flash, Branch was already hammering and sawing some wood. He spent a few minutes of using his constructing tools and adjusting to his cat form at the same time. He exhausted himself from carrying his heavy tools for a little while and drank some cups of milk to energize himself...if it’s for the best that he needed some coffee.

Later, Branch put on his hard builder’s hat and began painting the wood. Holding a paintbrush in his mouth, he carefully painted the plank with a neat dark brown color. From a corner during his work, Wiggles nibbled his carrot along the way.

Branch hammered, painted and drank tons of glasses of milk. He stayed up all night at work long putting the finishing touches to his latest invention. Despite being a cat, he can still think like a Troll. No longer bothered by the sheer excited swaying of his tail, he put on a welding mask and held up a blowtorch in his paw.

When he was sure to have almost finished, Branch lifted up his welding mask to admire his work. He smiled with satisfaction, feeling like he was ready for Poppy’s newest party tomorrow.

I can totally win this! he thought. Those Trolls out there will think I will be the best hero when they see what I make! Hopefully I’ll earn a medal and be on first place!

“Tomorrow is another day,” Branch told himself.

The next day, Poppy’s Show-and-Tell Festival has already begun. Trolls everywhere gathered around the giant mushroom stage, where Poppy is addressing everyone else who were invited for the party. DJ Suki, the village’s resident disk jockey, played some thumping music that got everyone grooving, dancing and celebrating the occasion.

The Show-and-Tell festival was jam-packed with fun activities. Some Trolls who signed up to show their projects on stage proudly present them to Poppy, who is observing every single one of them. The party was a great success. The Trolls finished it off with a banquet filled with cupcakes, berries, flavored punch and cookies and a special oversized scrapbook they made together to remember the occasion.

Poppy proudly went up on stage, holding a pink glittery microphone in one hand. She held up her arms wide and greeted her fellow crowd of excited Trolls. “Hello, Troll Village!” she proclaimed. “Ready to set your brains aflame?! Then I hope you are all as excited as I am! Welcome to my party of Show-and-Tell, where you’ll be able to show your opinions and tell us about them in order to get promoted as future leaders of the kingdom!”

“YAAAAAAAAAY!!!” all the Trolls cheered. “Hurray for Show-and-Tell Day!”

“And just you wait, there are some of the best contestants that will bring us a load of Troll-riffic inventions that they come up with!” Poppy added. “Sit back and relax as they will come up on stage to present their creativity to the rest of the world!”

Then Poppy jumped out of the stage to check on her best friends, who have their brilliant Show-and-Tell inventions ready to be submitted.

“Okay, guys,” she reminded them proudly. “I hope you’re ready. Got your thingamabobs needed for this special day?”

The rest of the Trolls agreed with her reassuring words.

Deep down, Biggie was feeling scared. “I’m so nervous I felt so many Mr. Dinkleses in my stomach,” he said, his voice quaking with fear.

Guy Diamond put his arm to the big Troll’s shoulder to comfort him. “It’s alright, big fella,” he told him in his shimmery voice. “Y’all won’t be so jealous ‘cause my masterpiece will be a great hiiiiit!” He nodded to his shining glitter globe that was required to present to the rest of the crowd.

Cooper kicked his colorful ball with his front legs enthusiastically. “I’m SOOOO excited to show my favorite ball to everyone!” he exclaimed with utter excitement. “I’ll make a great king!”

Smidge was not sure of this idea. Not all Trolls wanted to be declared as winners because Poppy needs to select one Troll with the best invention. “I think you’ll be the king someday,” she said.

“Oh, come on, Smidge!” said Cooper. “I wonder what an actual king can do?”

“You’ll have to wait, Cooper,” Poppy told him. “When a Troll has the best project ever built, they would soon earn a medal.” Humming to herself, she went off to find Satin and Chenille, whose presentation about shampoo and hair conditioner were coming to fruition.

When Poppy saw them, she greeted them happily “Hey, girls! You’re gonna be fine! Just present your projects and I’ll qualify each of them as top prize!”

“Yes, Queen Poppy,” Satin answered politely. “We’ll do our best. No arguing!”

“Sis, keep it together! We use the shampoo first!” Chenille protested.

Meanwhile, Branch was watching the festivities coming on. He knew the big celebration had begun. A tiny, secret part of him was to be still in Poppy’s contestant list despite still stuck in cat form. He jumped off the big mushroom that he, Poppy and the twins were standing on and ran over to his brand new creation, covered with a red tarp.

Wiggles hopped closer to him, admiring his fantastic work. “Ooooh, now I wonder what you come up for this party?” he asked happily. “How well you are doing?”

“I’ll do great progress!” Branch said enthusiastically. “Besides, I worked so hard on this baby.”

He pulled off the red tarp. Underneath it was a wooden machine that looked like an old-fashioned coffee grinder.

Branch introduced his latest invention. “Behold...my homemade Berry-Presser!”

Wiggles was impressed. “Whoa, dude! It looks totally awesome!” he cooed. “But...what does it really do?”

Branch had spent lots of time all night inventing this mechanical grinder. He enthusiastically bounded back and forth in front of his invention and pulled out another basket of berries he had harvested yesterday as he explained the purpose of how it works. If Branch could get the rest of the Trolls to agree to this brilliant idea, it would ensure that he is able to be declared first prize.

“Based on my precise calculation, I built this thing to ensure proper nutrition for the Trolls,” Branch explained. “It’s very simple. Harvest a berry or more, compress them inside and turn them into healthy drinks; the perfect combination of integrity and a touch of love!”

“Cool! What a great combo!” Wiggles cheered, hopping up and down. “Everyone will love your berry-making gizmo when they see it in action!”

“Yep!” said Branch. “When I come out on stage, Poppy is going to qualify me as a new leader. Isn’t it great? It’s like I’m going to rule with her!”

Wiggles gave a serious look on his face that said “Are you kidding me?”

“Time for me to hit the spotlight!” Branch said proudly. He started to leave with his Berry-Presser, but Wiggles grabbed his tail and pulled him back. Branch yelped in pain upon having his tail bitten by the rabbit’s teeth. “Ouch! What is your problem?” he asked.

“Before you go, one BIG problem…you’re just a cat, not a Troll,” Wiggles reminded him. “The entire village won’t notice or accept you and your project! You know what I mean? Animals don’t get qualified by Trolls!”

Branch chuckled and pressed down Wiggles’ forehead with his paw, forming a frown on the bunny’s face. “Awww, Wigs. Don’t be so pessimistic,” he told him, smiling proudly. “You'll give yourself worry lines with all that nagging. They’ll know I made this little toy and Poppy will definitely promote me for sure!”

But Wiggles was getting worried that Branch’s plan is going to fail. He knew if he showed up on stage, Poppy and the Trolls will never understand him when he was about to present his invention. He tried to stop him before he can move on. “I’m being serious here! I told you Queen Poppy never recognizes you as a small animal!”

It was too late. Branch pushed his Berry-Presser and made his way to the backstage with the rest of Poppy’s friends.

“Ugh, he’s gonna take low price,” Wiggles said sarcastically, exasperated as he watched Branch go into the party anyway.

A few minutes later, the Show-and-Tell presentation has finally begun. Poppy introduced Biggie and Mr. Dinkles on stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Biggie and Mr. Dinkles’ performance of the world’s most powerful “Mew” of the universe!”

The crowd cheered as Biggie and his pet worm arrived on the stage. Mr. Dinkles was sitting on a chair, ready to play a piano. Biggie acted like a conductor and he waved his baton to cue his worm to start singing. While pressing the piano keys, Mr. Dinkles sang in a big, operatic voice as the rest of the Trolls watched the performance in awe.

“Now that’s what I call the world’s most powerful ‘Mew!’“ Biggie clarified, admiring at his beloved pet’s extraordinary talent.

When the performance finished, the Trolls cheered and Mr. Dinkles took a bow before hopping into Biggie’s arms. The big blue Troll hugged his worm tightly and bowed before the crowd as well before he left the stage.

Next, Guy Diamond appeared on stage with a poof of glitter showering all over the audience. Poppy made his introduction. “Brace yourself for the world’s most glittery Troll in the whole wide world! Guy Diamond!”

When Guy landed gracefully on stage, he pulled out his glitter globe and shook it. Glitter showered around the plastic unicorn inside. “This wonderfully-glittertastic snowglobe SHIIIIIINES like a DIAMOND!!!” Guy explained with his iconic shimmering tone. “With this, you can SHIIIIIINE your whole world with LOTS OF GLIIIIIIITER!!!” 

The entire crowd cooed, impressed at the glitter Troll’s brilliant work. “Ooooooooooh!!!”

“I wish I can keep that! It’s got a tiny unicorn in it!” a Troll child said excitedly, pointing at the glitter globe.

“That’s some good stuff, Guy!” Poppy said as the glittery Troll left the stage, carrying his globe. “Next up, we have Cooper and his fantastic rainbow bouncy ball!”

Cooper waddled his way to the stage, with his ball balancing on his head. “Hey, guys!” he said enthusiastically. “Let me show you my favorite super duper bouncy-douncy ball! Look what it can do!”

Then he started doing some tricks while playing with his soccer ball. Almost as fast as Cooper moved his four legs each time while getting the ball to balance on his back, all of the Trolls were amazed.

After ending his trick with a big finale, Cooper bowed at the cheering audience and gracefully danced away from the stage.

“This is gonna be a cinch. Two sisters, one mind,” Poppy announced on stage. “Put your hair together for the fashion sisters and their hair gel experiment!”

Satin and Chenille appeared on the stage, pulling out their whiteboard depicting the shampoo and hair conditioner pictures. They held up two bottles of hair lotion as they challenged the Trolls to a quiz about where the shampoo originated in and how different is the hair conditioner, just like how they challenged Poppy to the same quiz yesterday.

“I know these answers,” Poppy whispered to Biggie, watching from the backstage.

Finally, the fashion twins come to the conclusion of their explanation. “In direct conclusion, we know that both shampoo and conditioner...” Satin began.

“...count like good HAIR GEL!!!” the girls said the last sentence in unison.

The Trolls roared with thousands of applause, and the twins bowed. “Thank you for seeing our presentation!” Chenille squealed. “Have a hair-tastic day!”

Later, during Smidge’s turn on presenting her Muscle Spirit treadmill on the stage, Branch curled up in a corner, watching the other contestants perform. Soon it will be his turn to be on stage, he will present his berry grinder invention to everyone, and finally he’ll be awarded first place. He can feel his destiny coming towards him.

Branch looked at his invention and then at the stage, feeling quite ready to embrace his inner Troll. “Oh yeah,” he said with determination. “I’m ready to rule the world with you, Poppy.”

After Smidge completed her presentation, Poppy announced to her people “And for our very last contestant of the season, you may know him as the former village grump...let’s hear it for BRANCH!!!”

“Oh, that’s me!” Almost immediately, Branch can hear the loud cheering. He couldn’t believe it. All of the Trolls were now cheering for him, and now it is the time for him to show his face to everyone. He smiled with confidence as he pushed the berry grinder to the stage.

“Come on up there, Branch!” Poppy said, just as Branch and his berry grinder finally showed up on the stage. Once he stopped pushing his invention, he greeted the audience. “Meow!”

Instead of cheering for Branch, the crowd gasped. Even Poppy gasped as well. “Mr. Tickle, what are you doing here?” she asked, staring at Branch.

Everyone stared at the blue-haired cat in confusion. Then they all started talking at once.

“Wait a minute. It’s just a cat,” a glitter Troll said, scratching his head.

“Who’d put a cat on stage?” a Troll asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Where is Branch? He’s supposed to be here!”

“Yeah, where is he?”

“Where is the last Troll?”

“We need him!”

“Branch! Branch!”

Branch looked at the confused crowd. Is it working? he thought. Am I getting through them? Am I gonna win first place? He hadn’t much luck getting their attention lately. But his face fell when he realized what is going on. “What’s happening?” he asked himself. “I thought they all liked my invention!”

Poppy tried to shoo him away from the stage. “Get back in the backstage. You’re not supposed to be here,” she told the cat. “I need Branch to show up and present his project.”

“Meeeow! Meow! Meow!” Branch insisted, attempting to tell her that he is here to show his berry grinder to the crowd. “Meeeeeoooowww!!”

But it didn’t seem to work. This made Poppy think Branch is absent. She looked around while he tried getting her attention. “Where’s Branch?” she asked. “I swore that he should’ve arrived on time! Branch!” Then she fled off the stage and ran to search for him. Branch helplessly watched her leave.

Behind Poppy, her friends watched her running away from the party. Biggie asked her “Poppy, what’s wrong?”

“We’re calling this party a hiatus!” she announced before disappearing into the distance. “There’s been a serious mistake here!” 

“What mistake?” Guy asked, not until the rest of the Snack Pack saw Branch on stage, meowing for Poppy to come back.

“Awwwww!” Cooper cooed. “Cute kitty!”

Branch felt hurt and defeated. Why didn’t Poppy recognize him, and what is wrong with being a cat? He glanced at the audience, who were still murmuring questions about him.

“What should we do about this cat?” a Troll demanded.

“I wish Queen Poppy would cancel him off from the list in the first place!”

“I can’t believe she halted the party with a hiatus because of his absence!”

Branch watched in horror as the Trolls continued ranting about the disaster. He couldn’t watch this anymore, so he sprinted after Poppy.

“Poppy, come back!” he yelled, jumping off the stage and making a run for it to follow her, leaving the Trolls surprised at his departure.

From backstage, Wiggles watched him go after Poppy, finally knowing that Branch’s attempt to show his project had failed.

                                              To Be Continued...

                                          Stay tuned for Part 16!

[jising-jisang-jisung]

I Believe | Park Jisung

Genre: floof, little smidge of angst

Word count: 2k

A/n: another part of the jb song series that I really liked writing!! I hope yall like it even tho it is a tad rushed and maybe corny 😔✊

Based off this jonas brothers song

You stood outside the door to the dorm of the boy you liked. He had asked you to come over and study with him for your chemistry exam. Finally, you worked up the courage to knock, but as you raised your fist, the door opened revealing a shorter boy with dyed orange hair. He exclaimed in an unhumanly loud voice, "Jisungie! Your girlfriend is here!"

You were quick to correct him, "I'm not actually his girlfriend." Your voice only came out in a whisper as the boy looked you up and down.

"I know that. I just like to tease him. Hi! I'm Chenle!"

"Nice to meet you. I'm y/n." You were able to project your voice this time, just enough to be audible for the orange haired kid.

"Aish, Chenle, quit bothering y/n! We are here to study, not talk to you. And don't you need to get to your class?" Jisung piped up from behind Chenle.

"Oh yeah! Thanks for reminding me. See you again, y/n!" And with the last statement, he added a wink.

Jisung welcomed you into his dorm, pulling out his chemistry notes and books. You two studied for a while, laughing at the dumb mistakes you both made in each problem. "Jisung, you're so stupid. Glucose is C6H12O6."

"I know that. I'm just testing you to make sure you know that."

This went on like that for a while, Jisung's face slowly growing more flushed by each passing second. You're not sure when you got into the current situation or how. You're sitting on the couch next to Jisung, watching a drama. He was so focused on the show. You noticed the small pout on his lips and the small freckle just outside of them that enhanced the cuteness tenfold. You didn't realize how long you had been staring at him until he turned to face you. "Y/n, it makes me really nervous when you look at me like that," he admits.

"Oh, uh-" you stuttered, trying to explain yourself, but in the end, all you could squeak out was a small, "sorry."

"How would you feel if a really pretty girl kept looking at you?" He puts his hand to his mouth, mentally cursing himself for calling you pretty.

"Pretty?" You nervous laugh. "Sorry, it's just, I think you're really handsome." You're pretty sure that you just died saying that.

Jisung's face had never been redder in his life. He kept opening his mouth to speak but couldn't get out a sound. How is it that you fell for a boy who is shyer than you? Probably because he is really cute and sweet and one time you heard his laugh in chemistry class and it was the cutest thing you'd ever heard. "I like you!" You burst out, unable to contain your thoughts any longer. Ordinarily you were a very pensive person, carefully calculating everything you say and do. You don't know what compelled you to blurt out this confession in the spur of the moment. Perhaps it was the look on the boy's face sitting next to you.

He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes before turning to you. "I like you too. A lot actually."

"Finally!" You hear a familiar, loud voice announce from behind you.

"Chenle?! How long have you been sitting there?"

"Since you were staring at y/n before she was staring at you. It took you guys a lot longer than I expected to finally confess."

"And that means you owe me 10 bucks," another boy calls out from behind Chenle.

"Are they all here?" Jisung asks timidly.

"Yep!" Yet another boy confirms.

~that was how you scored Jisung as your boyfriend~

By now you've gotten to know almost all of Jisung's friends. They have an interesting relationship because there are several that are just older than him, but then older boys who act as parental figures. So far you've only been introduced to his peers. You don't know if you'll ever understand how it all works. Nevertheless, you befriend some of them as well.

Dolphin Lele: hey y/n! Wanna go get ice cream?

You: ofc! I'm already omw

Often times this makes Jisung a little jealous which is just a plus. He always looks extra adorable when he has his jealous pout.

"Y/nnnnnn," he dragged out your name cutely. "Why do always hang out with Chenle without me?"

"Sorry, Jisungie, we just went to get ice cream. Here!" You pecked him on the lips, effectively transferring some of the flavor of the treat you had earlier.

"Hmmm. Okay! I forgive you!" His smile made you feel so warm like nothing else could. Though, you were still to shy to tell him any of that yet.

~

You stood outside Jisung's dorm after he texted you to come over. From inside you could hear the voice of someone scolding him. "Jisung, don't you think you're a little young to be in a serious relationship like this?"

"I know I'm young, hyung, but that doesn't make my love any less strong," Jisung defended.

"You don't even know what love is! Just forget about y/n and focus on your work, okay?"

You had leaned up against the door to listen when you noticed the talking stopped. You jolted forward, uncontrollably as the door was swung open. "You must be y/n," the voice said. "You should really stop distracting Jisung from his job. He has work to do you know. You guys are too young to fully understand emotions anyway, so give it a rest will you?" The tall man smiled down at you in a belittling manner. He walked past you, revealing a watery eyed Jisung standing still, his only movements being the rise and fall of breathing. You could tell he was trying his best not to get upset. Tears began to well up in your eyes too. You were the cause of Jisung's scolding. Before he could see you, you took off out of the dorm as fast as your little legs could carry you. Through your blurry vision, you took out your phone to text him but ran into someone first. "Sorry, I wasn't looking."

"Y/n?" You heard Chenle's voice. "What's wrong?"

"Tell Jisung it's over. I'm leaving." The words were so painful to say. Your heart was being torn apart. If you continued to see the boy, he would continue to receive backlash from his hyungs, but it also killed you to leave him.

"What?! Y/n, what do you mean?" Chenle turned to go after you, but you were already gone.

~

[5:37 pm]

Baby chick 💚: y/n, where are you? Chenle just told me something's wrong.

[read 5:38 pm]

Baby Chick 💚: y/n pls respond!! I need to know you are okay TT

You: I'm safe if that's what you mean. You shouldn't contact me anymore. I'm sorry.

With that, you blocked Jisung's number. You sat alone in your dark room, all the shades closed to further enhance your sad vibes. You even went as far as to turn on your sad hours playlist and wrapped yourself in a fluffy comforter on your bed. That was the last thing you remember before you cried yourself to sleep that night.

~

You woke up to the nonstop noise coming from your phone. 23 missed texts from Jaemin, 11 missed calls from Chenle, and 7 missed texts from Renjun. That's when you realized you forgot to block all of Jisung's friends' numbers to. Oh well, there's nothing you can do about that now.

You slowly got out of bed and shuffled to your kitchen in search of some comfort food. Moving unhumanly slow, you found a carton of Jisung's favorite ice cream. You put it back in the freezer and settled for some shredded cheese.

You were most of the way back up to your room when you heard a knock at your door. However, you decided not to answer it. For some reason, you weren't particularly in the mood to talk to anyone. But the knocks didn't stop.

"Y/N! YOU BETTER OPEN YOUR DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I WILL BUST IT DOWN!!" Chenle's loud voice rang through your home. "I'M GONNA COUNT TO 3!" he added. "1!" You really didn't plan on moving from where you were until... "2!" you realized the door wasn't locked. "Th-"

And before Chenle could finish, Jaemin walked right in. "Thank you for that Lele, but the door was not locked." You felt a tinge of pity for Chenle because his heart was so big but he was also kinda dense. "Y/n, come on. We have somewhere to go."

"I'm not going anywhere. You guys should leave," you retorted, somewhat harshly.

"Then, please just answer your texts from Jisung."

"I can't," your voice was weak again. Much more faint than when you first met the boys because now it was almost pathetic.

"Well, then we'll have to take you."

"What?!"

Behind Jaemin followed some of Jisung's other friends, Renjun and Jeno. They each grabbed your arms, gently pulling you. "Hey, what do you think you're doing? You can't just kidnap me!" But the boys didn't let up at your protest. "Fine. I'll go," you huff. "But at least let me get changed out of my pjs first."

~

"No. Why are you guys taking me to the dorm? I don't want to see him."

"Cmon y/n," Chenle pleads. "He is not talking to any of us. He won't even leave his room."

Hearing about the boy you love's condition just makes you feel even worse. Nonetheless, you couldn't just abandon him. "Okay. I'll try to talk to him. But just so you know, if he gets more hurt by this, I will never talk to any of you again." You threaten the group, but none of them seem the slightest bit worried.

You knock quietly on his door. When there was no response, you weren't even sure he'd heard you. So, you knocked again only slightly louder.

"I already told you, Jaemin, go away. I'm not coming out right now." Despite his angry tone, you could hear the sadness in his voice.

"It's not Jaemin," you manage to whisper out. The door opened immediately to reveal a disheveled Jisung with puffy eyes.

"Y/n? What are you doing here? I-" he was cut off by you hugging him.

"I'm so sorry, Jisung. I saw you get yelled at and I even got told off, myself, and I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving you but now i realize that all I did was hurt you and-" it was his turn to cut you off. He kissed you softly as tears fell down both of your faces.

"It doesn't matter anymore, now I got you here with me. Nothing matters any longer, now I got you here with me."

"Still, you got in trouble because of me."

"Don't worry. Johnny didn't bother me."

"Don't try to be cool, Jisung, I saw you almost cry afterwards." You heard him gulp loudly. "So why didn't you listen to him?"

"'Cause you show me something I can't live without." He whispered in hushed tones, "I love you."

"I love you too," you choked out between sobs. "But what will the others say."

"Yeah, I know what they say, and that's fine. 'Cause I'm here to stay, through the good and the bad times."

People call you crazy and say you're moving too fast but none of that matters to you two. Who cares if youre still teenagers? You still love each other with all your hearts. And if someday you do fall apart, such is life. But for now, anyway, all you need is Jisung by your side and vice versa.

[imaginary-portal]

Resistance

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Y/N = your name

Y/L/N = your last name

Masterlist

Enjoy :)

————

You step out onto the London streets, clutching your coat closer for warmth on this rainy day. You can see your breath in the air as you walk to the nearest coffee shop. You step in line and order your usual coffee with a muffin. You walk back outside and down another block to get to work. You work for a British marketing team for Marvel Studios. It is a lot of fun, but you have to keep so many secrets about the job. Anytime you start a new project you sign contracts to keep things underwraps until the company offically releases it. You enter your office building, show your badge to the woman at the front desk, and enter the elevator. When the bell rings for your floor you take in a deep breath to focus your mind for a long day of hard work. You step out the elevator and go into your office. You take off your coat and put it over the back of your chair. You sit down in the chair and log on to your computer. As you take a bite of your muffin, you see out your office window Tom Holland and Zendaya walking with a team of people. Looks like you have guests today.

You don’t even get halfway through your muffin when your boss comes into your office asking you to meet her in the conference room. You bring your coffee with you, alongside your notebook and your pen. You walk to the conference room and see your boss by herself. She looked a wee bit stressed which is out of her norm. “Okay, we have a team of people visiting for some marketing pitches, then in a small group, including you, will vote on the best one. Then you are going to lead the project with a team.” You nod. “Sounds good. Thank you for this opportunity. Where shall I sit?” She points right next to her seat. You place your items down in front of you, and a group of people enter the room. You shake hands and introduce yourself to everyone. In particular, you remember the third to last person. “Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You shook the handsome gentleman’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Tom Hiddleston.”

Everyone gets settled and your boss starts the meeting. Everybody runs their pitches and you take vigorous notes. The fourth pitch was your favorite so you put a star next to it. When the meeting ended, everyone left except your boss, Tom Hiddleston, his manager, two of your boss’s assistants, and you. Your boss starts the conversation. “Okay, Mr. Hiddleston. I would like you to speak first. What are your thoughts?” Tom speaks about how he favors the second pitch, given how well he knows his character, Loki, this pitch best sets up the kind of path he wants to see for him. You couldn’t help but notice how when he speaks he often adjusts his glasses and plays with his beard. “Thank you, Mr. Hiddleston. Next, Ms. Y/L/N. What do you think?” You sit up a little more straight. “Well, while I think the second pitch is interesting, I believe the fourth pitch is the most logical, given the kind of work our team is going to have to put into this project, it is the most plausible and the most likely to attract the broadest audience.” Tom and his manager take a short moment to talk separate from the group. The manager uses a notebook to cover their faces. You look at your boss, who gives you a thumbs up. You don’t know how to feel about that. “Okay.” His manager says. “We’ll settle for the fourth pitch, so long as we can tweak it a smidge to meet Mr. Hiddleston’s requests.” You click your pen. “All right, let’s see what we can do for you. What requests might you have?” Then Tom starts listing them. They were all pretty small and simple things so you or your boss didn’t have to shut any of them down. His most important request was that he could be more involved in this project than he usually is. Your boss would have to consult her boss to make sure that was okay, but she said she has confidence they will let him join the team as he pleases. During the conversation, you and Tom made frequent eye contact because you two did most of the talking. After the meeting ended, Tom and you shook hands again. You said “Thank you for coming today, I am excited to work with you on this project.” He smiled. “Thank you making room in your schedule to do this. I am excited as well.”

A few weeks went by and you planned out the project almost entirely. It was now ready for execution. You contacted Tom’s manager to tell him that the project is ready to begin and Tom is welcome to join whenever he can. After the project was started for three days Tom paid a visit. The team and you were stuck, arguing over how to do something. It was great to have a fresh pair of eyes to give an opinion. Tom ended up siding with the option you were siding with, and that ended the dispute. You then split into subgroups. Your group consisted solely of Tom and you, and that was by chance because everyone chose their groups. Anyway, it was good to catch him up to speed on things. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N. You’re doing a very good job.” You smile. “Thank you, but it is a group effort, I am just the leader.” You flip through some papers on your desk. Tom steps closer to your desk and speaks in a lower tone. “Well what happens if something were to go wrong? Who is likely to get the most blame?” You mouth ‘me’ without looking up from the papers. “Exactly, so then if things are going well, you should get the most credit as well.” You shrug. Tom laughs, which causes you to look up at him. You noticed the glimmer in his eyes when he laughed. “You can’t take a compliment, can you?” You huffed out a laugh. “I guess not. There are always things to improve on.” You go back to your papers. “I appreciate that you are interested in some of the behind-the-scenes work. It’s not something you see everyday.” You put the papers in a stack and look up at Tom. He smiles. “Yeah, I like to be involved with my character, and this project makes a big impact on his future.” He adjusts his glasses. You take in his presence for a moment. He stood with perfect posture, looking all fine and sophisticated. Your phone rings, breaking you from your unprofessional trance. You answer the call. It was your boss, asking you to do something for her after your lunch. You write it down on a sticky note and end the call. The call reminded you that you can take your lunch break now. You get up from your chair and grab your coat. “Lunch time.” Is all you say. You grab your set of keys and your wallet. “Y/N, shall we have lunch together?” Tom asks. You look up, surprised like a deer in headlights. “Uh, sure. Why not?” You smile, hoping to soften your impression on him.

After you clock out, the two of you leave the office and enter the elevator. Things get quiet for a moment. Your heart races a little. “Do you have a place in mind?” You ask. Tom shakes his head. “No I do not. Do you?” You nod. “There’s this place on the corner, it has good lunch food. But if you don’t want to go there we don’t have to...” Tom interrupts you. “No, we can go there.” The elevator dings and you exit the building and off into the streets. You walk to the restaurant on the corner. You get a table and order drinks. You both searched the menus for a meal. Once you ordered you got to talking. You talk about your hometowns and your jobs. The food arrives and you get to eating. Tom liked the food which was a relief. Towards the end of the meal, Tom says “Y/N, you’re a career woman, huh?” You smile. “Yeah, I guess I am. It must be really obvious.” Tom shakes his head. “But that’s a very good thing. I admire that very much.” You blush and look down. “Well thank you. I also admire your work ethic.” You look up and you and Tom both smile at each other. Tom reaches over the table and puts his hand on yours. You feel the warmth of his hand for a few seconds but then you pull your hand away. “Um, I’m sorry Tom.” You frown. “No. I’m sorry Y/N, I overstepped.” The waiter comes and gives you the check. You take out your wallet. “I can cover it.” Tom offers. “No, it’s okay I got it.” Tom gently takes the check out of your hands. “I’m sorry, but I insist.” You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. When Tom finishes with the check, you get ready to leave. While on your walk back to the office, you apologize to Tom again. “I’m sorry about that, in the restaurant. It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just not the right time.” Tom accepts your apology, but doesn’t make eye contact with you.

Working in the office with Tom got real awkward after that lunch flop. You tried collaborating with others on the project, but you still had to work with Tom. You were all flustered and you still felt guilty for pulling your hand away. Thus, communication amongst the group became increasingly difficult, and you had to make everyone break for the day to recompose yourselves for tomorrow. You felt bad because you kind of scorned the entire group, and ended another half hours worth of potential work, and it was mainly your fault because you were distracted. You left to go to your office. One assistant got you a cup of coffee and you took a breather. You got a knock at the door, and you looked up. It was Tom. You could tell he was being extra careful, as if he was walking on eggshells. “May I come in?” You say yes, and Tom enters. He takes a chair and pulls it over to your side of the desk. You had your elbows on the table to prop your head up. You were massaging your forehead. You weren’t quite near tears, but you were visibly stressed. “Y/N, what is wrong?” Tom whispers. You let out a deep breath. “I’m just trying so hard to focus right now.” You hear Tom swallow a lump in his throat. “Y/N, is it because of me? I didn’t mean for this to happen.” You shrug. “I don’t know.” Tom puts a hand on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine. You move your shoulder back so his hand slides off. “Y/N, do you want to know what I think?” You ask him what. He replies “I think you are a sucessful and talented person, and so much that I think you should cut yourself a break and stop resisting to something you may want.” He pries your hands off your forehead and holds them in his. You had no choice but to look into his blue eyes now. “I think that if I can read body language correctly, you’re interested in me. I think you should give me a chance, Y/N. I think you have already gotten yourself so far in life that you should reward yourself, and let someone special reward you too. Y/N, I will be that special someone, if you let me.” Your heart melted from his kind words. “Okay.” You say after a few seconds. “I’ll stop resisting so much. I’ll give us a try.” Tom cracks a smile and you smile back. Tom wraps his hand around the back of your neck and presses your forehead onto his. You got extreme butterflies in your stomach. You felt his breath on top of your lips. Tom leans in closer and kisses you, short and sweet. Your hands cupped his cheeks, finally getting to feel the texture of that attractive beard.

[goponylover]

I Knew Him Tree Bros Fic

Based on @nellos12 Middle School AU

Evan was cleaning out his closet. He had just finished a big project for college and found himself with nothing to do. Ever since he started working at the Pottery Barn he always felt the need to keep himself busy. It was tough, balancing work and college but he managed. He was also slowly reconciling with Jared and Zoe. How they forgave him he'd never understand...

"You're trying to put your past behind you, remember" He thought.

He pulled down a stack of books from his shelf and found they were a bunch of old yearbooks. Evan smiled slightly. He had never really cared enough to want his yearbooks, no one signed them anyway, but his mom had made sure to order and keep every single one. He pulled a random one from the stack, his seventh grade yearbook, sat on his bed and began flipping through it. Within minutes he found his old class photo. He traced along the many faces searching for his own but something else caught his eye. A tall boy with tangled red hair falling into his eyes and a cheeky grin on his face.

He recognized his eyes. 

Blue with just a smidge of brown in the left one.

Could that be...?

No. No way. There was no way he and Connor were in the seventh grade together! He would have remembered! He would have...although his hair was different. A lot about him looked different. His frame was much more filled out in this this picture than the thin, lanky teenager Evan had come to barely know. His cheeks weren't so hollow, though his cheekbones just as high, and his eyes weren't so angry. The more he looked at the picture the resemblance grew.

"If I don't get an answer for this I'm gonna lose my mind!" He thought.

He hesitantly picked up his phone and dialed Zoe's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey! Zoe It's-It's me. I um...I kinda have a-a-a question for you. I uh I was looking in this old seventh grade year book and I saw something and I really didn't wanna have to ask you but your really the only person I could ask and this is gonna drive me crazy if I don't figure this out and-"

"Evan!" She interrupted. "Just...ask the question."

Evan took a breath. Zoe had always helped him calm down. Carefully he asked the question. "....Did...did Connor ever have red hair?

There was quiet for a moment and Evan was sure he had really screwed up but then-

"When he was younger, yeah. He was a natural ginger like mom. He dyed it brown in freshman year and he kept it like that ever since so...yeah."

"Oh...ok...I'm sorry."

"Don't Evan. It's okay. Why'd you wanna know?" He could hear her smile over the phone and thanked God that she was so understanding.

"...I think Connor and I might have had the same seventh grade class."

"Oh..."

Silence reigned again. Evan hated that. Those moments of silence when no one was sure what to say or even if something should be said and it was all just so horribly awkward. Evan HATED it. With a passion. He was about to stutter out something, ANYTHING just to break the tension when Zoe did it for him.

"...Hey maybe sometime...you could let me take a look at that picture? I've almost forgotten what Connor looked like with red hair."

"Y-Yeah of course." Evan answered.

Zoe chuckled. "Y'know this whole...mess...its kinda given me a new perspective on him. Made me remember the good days."

"I thought you said there weren't-"

"I was wrong." She sighed "I guess I spent so long thinking about the bad stuff...I forgot about the good. Heh. Y'know the other day I was thinking about this video interview thing dad was doing for his company and they had Connor and me stand in the background and they told us 'look like your talking, it'll look more natural'. And Connor said to me, 'So we could say anything and no one would ever know?' He he! So we were like, 'Watermelon, watermelon watermelon, crocodile, hairdryer, toilet paper!' just talking random nonsense! I had to try so hard to keep a straight face and not ruin the shot!"

She broke into giggles.

Evan chuckled. "That's...awesome."

Zoe's laughter died down and for another short moment there was silence over the line. 

"I haven't thought about that in so long...how could I...forget something like that?"

Evan felt like he should say something but all that came out was "I...I-I don't um..."

Zoe interrupted before he got too lost in his rambling.

"Evan?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Thanks for calling."

"Oh...oh yeah uh n-no problem thanks for uh...thanks for talking to me, Zoe."

"Bye Evan."

"Bye."

Evan hung up the phone and put his face into his hands. So much was coming back to him. 

"Hey."

Evan turned and saw a somber looking kid with messy red hair. He had seen him before, he was known for his hair triigger temper and most kids avoided him. One time a girl had shoved him up against the wall in fourth grade and called him a "psycho freak". She had gone home with a bloody nose and missing four teeth. And now he wanted to talk to him?!

"W-what? Me?" Evan stuttered.

"Yeah. C'mere." 

"W-why?"

"Just come here! I'm not gonna do anything bad!" He stomped his foot childishly.

Evan reluctantly approached the preteen and was almost hit in the face himself by accident as the boy stiffly held out a crumpled twenty dollar bill.

"Come to my bar mitzvah." 

Evan blinked at him. "...what?"

The boy rolled his eyes when he doesn't understand.

"Come to my bar mitzvah and you can have this."

Oh. Ooohhhh. Wait. This guy wanted him to come to his party? Why? And why was he paying him?

"I-I would come anyway."

"...Really?"

"Y-yeah."

The red haired boy stood there looking stunned, almost confused for a moment. He looked him up and down, almost like he was assessing him, before sliding the Spider-Man backpack off of his shoulders and fishing an equally crumpled invitation out of it. He handed it to Evan who took it, still not quite believing this was happening to him.

"Its this friday. The address is inside. I'm Connor. By the way."

"Uh...okay...why me? N-not that I don't wanna go! I-I I do! I was just wondering-" Evan stuttered, flailing his arms trying to communicate his point. He half expected Connor to just snatch the invitation out of hand.

"Cause I have no friends. And I know that you don't either. So..." 

That stung a bit but it was true. The two stood awkwardly, staring at each others shoes for a moment before Connor began to walk away.

"I-I have a barmitzvah coming up soon!" Evan blurted out before he could stop himself. Connor turned to look at him, confused. "W-what I mean is uh i-If you wanted to come...that'd be...uh...that'd be cool."

There was that stunned look again. "Um...sure." And with that he turned and walked away.

It was a relatively small party for such a big house. Probably because he was the only one who showed up. They mostly stayed in Connor's room, played video games and ate cake and chips. Evan was actually having a pretty good time. After a little while Connor's mom had ushered them outside to play. Having nothing else to do they started playing tag. It was a little childish and kinda weird with only two people but fun. When Connor caught up to him he tackled him, trying to roughhouse and bruised his cheek. Evan had started crying and Connor let him go immediately. He led him inside and gave him a water bottle for his cheek. "Shit! I'm so so sorry Evan!"

"...That was a swear."

"I just gave you a bruise and you're worried about me swearing?!"

"S-sorry..."

"What're you apologizing for?"

"I-I'm not m-mad. It's okay." 

They stayed inside and talked until Evan's mom came to pick him up.

Connor did end up coming to Evan's Barmitzvah later that year.

"So my m-mom's f-finshing the cake w-we could just h-hang out until then." He said timidly as they walked into his room. Connor stood awkwardly in the center of the room looking around before his eyes fell on a bin of carefully ordered comic books next to his bed. "You like comics?" He asked.

"Y-yeah! Wanna see em?" Evan perked up after being asked about something that interested him. Connor smiled. 

"Got any Spider-Man?"

"Sure! I-I like Wolverine." Evan added as he picked up a Spider-Man comic and handed it to Connor.

Connor shrugged. "He's okay."

"D-do you not have any? C-comics I mean." Evan asked.

Connor frowned. "A few. My dad doesn't like em."

Evan didn't say anything more. So he and Connor sat on the bed, read comics and talked about superheroes until his mom called them down for cake.

Connor and Evan talked consistently through seventh grade. They didn't often go over to each others houses but they saw each other at school and hung out there. So when the middle school dance came around it was only natural that they'd go together as friends. Neither of them were gonna get dates and their parents were pressuring them to go ("It'll be good for you!" They said.) so they went together. They stood off to the side in a loud, crowded, sweaty room before the noise became to much for Evan and they went outside. Evan was breathing hard trying to calm down.

"You okay?" Connor asked. 

"I'm fine! J-Just...don't like crowds...why did our mom's make us go?" Evan panted. Connor shrugged. "Cause they want us to make friends."

Evan shook his head, finally calming down a bit. "Yeah...I guess." 

"But I've already got a friend. I've got you." Connor said, pushing his red hair behind his ear.

And then Evans heart was racing again as soon as it had calmed. "I-I'm you're friend?"

"Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?" He asked, suddenly becoming defensive.

"N-no! No I just d-didn't know if you were okay y'know...with me." Evan looked at his shoes. 

Connor looked away. "I didn't know if you were okay with me."

"O-of course I am! Y-You like Spiderman and videogames and your funny and c-cool!-"

"And psychotic." Connor smirked self deprecatingly.

"...I d-dont think so." Evan muttered. Connor half smiled. "You're pretty cool too."

Evan's heart skipped a beat. There were butterflies in his stomach.

Before he could think about what he was doing he stood on the tips of his toes and pressed his lips to Connor's. The kiss was quick. Barely a few seconds. When Evan pulled back Connor's face was taken over by a shocked expression. "Oh crap! This is it! I'm gonna get punched!" He thought. But Connor didn't move. He was rooted to the spot. A blush slowly rose to his cheeks and as it slowly sunk in what he had just did Evan began blushing too. The blonde turned away and covered his face with his hands. "I'm s-so sorry!" He whimpered. Connor didn't respond. Evan summoned his courage and peeked between his fingers. Connor still hadn't moved, his hand was covering his mouth, his eyes stared straight ahead and a dark red blush was up to his ears.The muffled sound of the booming music was the only sound between them. And that's how they stayed until their parents came to pick them up.

After the dance they talked less and less. Evan asked Connor if he was mad at him, Connor had said no but the distance between them continued to grow. By the time eighth grade rolled around and Connor moved house the separation was pretty much permanent.

Evan lifted his head out of his hands and felt the tears running down his face. He knew him. He actually knew him. Connor had been his friend. He had been his first crush. Evan laid back on his bed. In a few minutes he would call Zoe again, or maybe his mom, he would explain what he had remembered, he would explain to someone who would understand. But for now he lay back on his bed and cried for a bit. For the first time he fully felt the effect of Connor's loss.

(Points if you recognized the JaidenAnimations reference!)

[iphoenixrising]

Justice is Blind AU: V

I’m alive, I swear. This is the next thing in the Blind!Tim au @satire-please started.

**

The Black Bird is a rough and tumble design. Close to a year and a half of work into making the car his new ride (because, you know, not that Robin anymore). It's the biggest pre-Iraq project, started shortly after he left Gotham and realized he'd probably never be welcome in the Cave, the Manor, or in with the Bats again (it wasn't…fine at the time. Fuck it was a painful realization, one hovering in the back of his brain pan while adapted to the nefarious side of the Force—stealing and then returning Bat-shaped artifacts and such).

Naturally, it’s the first project he picked-up in the transition period—the one after the Mission: prove the Bruce was still alive and fucking find him. After he’d done the job, sent Bruce back to Gotham to recover, to get his own orientation, Tim had packed up the Red Robin costume and returned to Gotham City. While adjusting to his ever-sharpening senses (and yes, Tam even toned down the light but cloying perfume once she realized it gave him migraines within the first five minutes) and trying to determine his next steps in the whirlwind of holy shit his life had become (who was he kidding? When was his life not a shit storm of ‘what next’?), he’d put up the suit until he made his choice about where to go from there.

Of course, once he had nothing to focus on, no reason to keep moving, the eventual fallout of oh God, how can I do this? Fuck that, I am doing this. I’m going to figure out how the fuck to do this came with the determination to finish the half-assed projects he’d left the night Dick took Robin and handed it over to Damian. The projects became something important, something so crucial to proving he could still get his shit together.

The Black Bird was the first on the list.

He’d originally worked on the specs, did the heavy lifting between finding frustrating clue after clue (the Bat symbol on a cavern wall, made into an earthen pot, a wax stamp to mark documents). He’d even been mid-way through programming the massive computer system, one similar to the one in the Batmobile (the last one he’d actually ridden in that is) so he could calibrate it to lock on to his homing signal in the utility belt and auto-pilot itself to his location.  The coding alone had been extensive, especially considering he’d started from literally scratch, refusing to access the Batcomputer to get the initial set-up from Bruce’s mainframe. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to trip any of Dick’s instincts, hadn’t wanted to give himself away, hadn’t wanted to talk or swing or what-the-fuck-ever (but secretly he’d been pretty damn sure all his access had been revoked from the big system anyway, he just hadn’t wanted to face that finality, the proof of ‘you don’t belong here anymore.’ Fuck, he’d already gotten that message loud and clear.)

Working on the Black Bird was the only thing keeping him sane, keeping him from running further away, from believing Dick had a fucking point and maybe he might just be having some kind of psychological break. When none of them believed in him, it's the only thing that kept him moving.

He'd only finished the body work and undercarriage before he'd been blinded and going back to it immediately had been... a reminder of what he’d lost (another thing he’d had to sacrifice). The damn car sat up on the automatic lift until he came back to Gotham a month after he’d sent B back to Dick, Damian, and Alfred, getting through that little meet-and-greet without giving out too many details but satisfied and terrified at the same time since, well, Mission accomplished. Now what?

Finding B lost in time had been the real clincher in the whole should I stick with it? mentality. Even though no one but Ra's, Shiva, and Tam knew, it was always on the tip of his tongue, in a puddle at the bottom of his brain pan when the rest of his contingencies mapped out exactly how to get through things like space/time.

Find Bruce, get him back, and then what?

Safe answer: go to college, say “fuck this lifestyle.”

But…but—

Instead of feeling like his last action as a crime fighter would be a big send-off, a final win for their side, and the last blast before he gave up the cape, the part of him, the part that pushed him to be ROBIN rose up to sneer Give up? Be a normal guy? College? A 9-5 job? What the utter fuck, dude?

So, he'd taken the time, jumped in with both hands all over again (and it’s just like when he was on a train to Haley’s Circus at twelve years old, hoping to convince Dick Grayson to take up the Robin mantle again and save Batman. Welp, we all know how that little situation panned out, don’t we?). Getting his projects done, getting the tools he’d need to function, getting a network established, setting up shop again so Red Robin could throw out his own safety net in the instance of shit, shit, Plan X failed (thus, the Black Bird). Honestly, he’d made the decision before he’d even realized it himself.

And nope, he hasn't regretted it yet.

Well, once he realizes someone breached the upstairs of the Perch, there might be just a small smidge after all since very, very few people knew how to find him and, even better, how to get in.

Straightening from his place at the hidden workbench in the sub-basement level, several vertebrae in his spine crack sharply, telling him how long he’d been bent over the stack of whirlybirds, taking his time to solder new microchips under the insignia and Plexiglas casing. These were marked with a niche on the bottom, a groove deep enough for his gloves to catch when he’s in the suit; he’d also made them much smaller than the usual palm-sized— rather, almost the size of a silver dollar and with a low-frequency output most people wouldn’t even detect, but could give him placement in places with high ceilings or echoes (you know, when the baddies hold up in shitty warehouses and such). He stands up to stretch while his phone gives off a specific beep, one to indicate the Perch’s motion detectors had been set off. Snagging the device, he leaves his progress where it is, minutely adjusting the tools so he could come back to it. Barefoot, he pads out through the hidden door of the inner workshop and onto the plush, vinyl mats of the functional gym, takes 36 steps to the side area with workbenches along one wall to keep his suit stocked with the usual toys. Finally another 18 to the hidden staircase and up the back passage to the penthouse apartment.

It took him long enough for the smell of fresh coffee to waft halfway down the stairs and set off his inner caffeine sense. While the fingertips of one hand run along the wall absently, automatically, his stomach rumbles in reminder of how long it’s been since he’s tried to do, you know, real people things like sleep and eat.

(It’s fine, his guest probably already knows)

And it’s finely honed instincts that allow him to backbend slightly before he’s even a step through the hidden staircase to avoid the hot mug of coffee being shoved directly in his face.

“I’m going to need you,” Tamara Fox starts out in that patiently irritated tone, “to get Bruce Wayne the hell out of my office. And I need you to do it yesterday.”

Well. Shit.

“Hi Tam. Nice to see you too,” he takes the mug gratefully as he straightens up, steps out to allow the wall to slide closed and hide the stairs again. He checks the level of liquid pointlessly while the rim is already at his mouth and just perfect. Of course it is because Tam is the quintessential perfectionist (and nope, she can argue all she wants about reckless decisions and such—again, sorry you almost died. Really, it’s my life, so I can totally sympathize). But he smiles around the first mouthful and moves to the kitchen table so she can pace and rant at her leisure and he can enjoy a few minutes of sitting upright.

“Bruce has been at WE I take it?” He starts the train rolling even as he pulls out a chair to make himself comfortable.

“Has Bruce been—are you kidding me?”

Choo-choo, allll aboard

“He’s been there all week, Tim. Not in his office, not with my dad, not with the board. He’s been literally in my office. I’ve given him stacks of paperwork for the last three days and he still isn’t leaving. Monday? He had a champagne fountain in the middle of the office and invited everyone from Accounting to come up for a drink.”

Oh. Oh no.

He makes a positive noise for go on while the coffee sits warm in his stomach and he cracks the knuckles of one hand absently.

“Tuesday? He brought two models up for a photo shoot, including equipment, backdrop, and whatever the hell they needed for a magazine cover!”

And Tam takes six long strides to cover the kitchen before she turns and takes six back, always more at ease to talk while she’s doing something. That’s her, someone who is in perpetual motion. Slight sighs are her hands and arms moving to gesture without a hitch in her step.

“And it was for Forbes, Tim. He had half-naked models posing with him for the cover of Forbes.”

He enjoys breathing enough that he doesn’t snicker, he might choke a little on his coffee, but really, not laughing here at all.

“Bruce was always a little…quirky. All rich guys are.”

She pauses long enough to face him, gritting her teeth, “most rich guys don’t do their own brand of crazy in the middle of my office, Tim.”

Just a slight wince, but, well, Tam. “Well, he’s also Batman, so that should factor in to his brand of crazy.”

A slight noise is a wave of her hand, “I’m not worried about the scary man that breaks faces for a living. I’m worried about the former-CEO who is going to be back in my office Monday morning with God know what else unless he gets some information on how you’re doing.”

Damn. He’d hoped B would leave Tam out of anything unrelated to WE—

Wait. What now?

“Wait. You’re telling me he didn’t come to you to get his company back?”

His mug makes a sharp noise on the table from force because he had certain expectations on how that little situation was going to pan out for everyone.

The chair across from him pulls out with a soft scratch, and his spine straightens when she slides into the chair. Papers flutter and clack when they’re straightened, slide across the table in front of him.

Tam not talking means not good.

His fingertips are already moving over the soft line of dots across the top of the pages, moving from the usual WE headers and down to the bulk of content:

I, Bruce Thomas Wayne, assign all duties and responsibilities of Chief Executive Officer of Wayne Industries and Wayne International to Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne—

His jaw drops, hand stutters across the braille line.

Tam hums just slightly and the sound of her drinking her own mug (and it’s probably the special one he keeps for her, the whole You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps one).

His fingers skip down, move across the page slowly in shock, his brain coming up with what fucking reason Bruce would just—

“He did that playboy moron thing he’s got going on for a while, but—and I’m not sure where he got the right forms—but, he brought them to me signed and notarized on Friday. We…well, we talked a little. I mean, like people, not like you kind of people about bad guys and fighting, but like real people. The real guy is kind of…intense?” Tam sighs a little and the noise is heavy in his ears, stressed. Without thinking, he raises his head slightly and slides his free hand across the table, seeking until he gets the bump of her knuckles, wraps his hand around hers, runs his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. It did wonders to calm her down when they were in the belly of the proverbial beast, the League of Assassins’ Cradle.

Okay. This could be not good.

“He wants you to stay as CEO and for me to be your I don’t know second-in-command or something? Dad wants R&D back because he says he’s getting too old to keep up with running the company, and Mr. Wayne doesn’t seem to want the controlling interest in his company back, so I don’t know what else to tell you to do, Tim. Only that you have to address the company in person eventually, do a formal introduction to the Board. Start coming into an office somewhere so people can see you once in a while.”

He has nothing but changing thoughts and motivations running through his brain at high speeds and keeps listening, his reading hand absently skimming through the rest of the page, turning it over to start scanning the next. He takes everything into account since Tam must have already started planning the next steps in what was supposed to be a strategic move to keep the company from falling into Ra’s al Ghuls’ grubby, immortal hands. He wasn’t really supposed to run Wayne Industries.

Just, nope. (Bruce really doesn’t expect him to do this, right?)

“He did…He asked for you to call him. Soon. Just to talk, he said.” And she sighs a little, gripping his hand back when he hadn’t realized he was squeezing a little tight.

Next page. Job description. Pfft.

“I think…” it’s a pause where her eyes are probably on his, where she’s probably biting down on her lower lip before she comes out with it. “I think he misses you, Tim.”

He stops reading long enough to pick up his coffee again and drain it to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“He has a Robin,” is the right response (or, well, it was). “Now he wants a CEO. I get it. It’ll take the pressure off of him to be a constant figure. He can still do the ‘Bruce Wayne’ things for the society sections without being tied down to the company. It’s…a smart move for a caped crime fighter.”

And then something she said resonates in his brain, makes him perk slightly.

“Wait. He said he wants to talk?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, he said he wanted to have a talk. Maybe about the company—”

“Where’s your purse?” And he’s already half-standing, reaching out a hand.

Tam (who got a first-hand view of his inner vigilante sense during go-time) goes with it, the noise of it coming off the back of another chair and delivered right into his hands.

Tim sets the heavy thing between them on the table, fingers moving to the delicate stitching all over the thing (and it’s one of those ridiculously expensive ones, a Marc Jacobs or something), and—

Yup. Fuck.

Few, if anyone, would be able to pick out the slight bulge of fabric on the underside, but he picks the seam with a fingernail because, of course, the tiny, Bat-shaped device is just right there.

“That is a Four. Hundred. Dollar bag, just so you’re aware.”

He holds out the device in the center of his palm, and deadpans, “I’ll buy you a new one. Apparently, I’m a CEO now.”

Tam blinks down at the blinking red device and back up at Tim’s grim expression and off-focus gaze when the realization sets in. “He played me? I got played by Bruce Wayne?”

“Technically, you got played by Batman. That should actually make you feel better.” And he gets only slightly pissed off that B went there. He’s more concerned knowing B is aware of their connection—his and Tam’s—since he’s never been necessarily happy when civilians find out their identities.

“This is a little much, isn’t it?” And yup, someone messing with Tam’s one obsession. Now he’s really hoping B shows up in her office on Monday so she can chew his ass right the fuck out (mental note: check the live feed from her office while that little discussion is going down. Also, make popcorn)—that is, if he can get out of Gotham before a whole bunch of crime fighting wingnuts decide to descend on his Perch.

“I…haven’t talked to him since I left the Manor last week.”

“Really? You don’t say? Well, isn’t that a perfectly reasonable justification to cut a hole in my Chanel handbag?”

Tim blinks as his inner sense kicks the tension in his shoulders and back up a notch just before his phone chirps again with the motion detector warning, this one outside the front door.

“I may or may not have mentioned,” he deadpans, waiting for it, “he’s Batman.”

The doorbell is unassuming while he’s already moving on silent feet. He doesn’t bother with glasses because he already knows who’s out there anyway.

He cracks the front door just slightly, frowning. “Sorry. We’re not buying Girl Scout Cookies today. Thanks.”

“Not even coconut ones?” Bruce’s voice is only slightly deep, so probably in his day ware, not the nightfall outfit (so…not a case?).

“Not from cheaters,” he returns while still opening the door. After the effort, Bruce isn’t just going to go away, that much is pretty damn clear.

“It’s not cheating. I worked for it fair and square since you won’t pick up a phone, Tim.”

He closes the door behind Bruce’s massive figure, closing his eyes for a second to steel himself for whatever this might be.

A plastic noise from Bruce’s right hand, “Nice to see you again, Miss Fox. I hope Prada is to your liking?”

**

More coffee is made and consumed until Tam (the traitor) leaves the penthouse with her new bag in tow and a litany of praises for Bruce’s sense of style. The Chanel is still a point of contention, though, he can hear it in her voice when she thanks Mr. Wayne for his thoughtfulness (like she’s saying you ass hat instead…and will always be why Tam is one of his Top 5 favorite people of all time).

They’d (B and Tam) spent a little over an hour discussing the state of the company with B giving him some surprised kudos when she mentions a few of the projects he’d initiated in his first few months of being a CEO; the reality of the situation (of which he failed to mention) is he’d given their engineers and scientists a few inventions and software designs to tinker with to cement himself in the role, so as few questions as possible would be posed as to why is that guy up in this business? At the time, he was just seventeen, barely managed to get his GED, and was an adopted son—the backlash from the media had been enough to keep him moving between trying to find Bruce, stay out of Dick’s Bat-Radar, and keep the stocks from literally plummeting.

The first MedPod had hit the market, and all those critics started to take fucking note.

(Because really LexCorp’s Medical Supply line was absolute shit, so a self-sustaining medical pod for emergency transports was really just the way to go for the Armed Forces—considering they’d beaten out several other big names for the contract was enough to prove he might just be all right for this job other than, you know, keeping it out of the hands of bad guys.)

Through the back-and-forth about the company, he’d kept his opinions to himself, waiting for something to catch him up; something like “that’s amazing. I’ll know when I’m getting back into.” Or “Once I’m back in the saddle, we’ll keep that project going.” Or, “You’ve done some amazing things, Tim, thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

He gets nada. Absolute fuck all.

Sitting on his left with Bruce across from them, Tam had nudged his knee, her way of telling him to please say something or I’m burying you in paperwork hell, but honestly? He’s pretty much at a loss.

Making non-committal noises around a fresh cup of coffee is really all he’s got at this point.

He shows Tam to the door leaning in slightly out of the doorframe to assure her in a low voice he’d already checked the Prada bag and it seems clean enough.

She sighs at him (again) and makes the usual demands, “Eat something. Sleep for God’s sake. I’ll…see you at work, boss.”

He feels his face pull with the automatic smile (because it’s Tam) and has another moment of regret when they couldn’t make it work—the two of them would have been good together. Too bad for things that had never-been (too many, he’s lost too damn many to make that leap again).

Coming back to the table is the hardest part of his day, knowing Bruce is probably watching him for all possible ticks, is probably staring at his dead eyes with that shitty self-recrimination happening in the background, that the Dark Knight can find him now (and fuck, he doesn’t want to have to move his things to a new safe house. Dammit, he likes it here).

And once they’re alone, he gets the first one in, “tagging Tam was shitty, you know.”

A shift of movement, a nod while a heavy sigh probably lifts Bruce’s shoulders and chest, and he can remember the moments when the Bat needed to be called back, reigned in so the man behind the cowl didn’t drop from exhaustion and injuries, from the sheer weight of things he’d taken on his shoulders to bare. The noises, even without the visuals, are so damn familiar, a basis for the layer of Robin instincts that are honestly a part of his chemical make-up at this point. His instincts to pull B back from the edge of the abyss when the Dark Knight was taking him farther than any human being (ever Bruce Wayne) could handle…and stay sane.

He hadn’t been fucking kidding when he told B “Batman needs a Robin” all those years ago.

“I know.”

“There some kind of unstated rule we have about not treating other Bats like—” criminals but oh yeah, forgot for a second, didn’t you?

His mouth shuts with a sharp clack of his teeth coming together before the sentence gets out (and yes, Bruce caught it).

“If you stayed anywhere near the radar, or had at least picked up the phone, I would have left Tam alone, I swear.” Bruce fills in smoothly, filing away the aborted statement.

“Emails have been fine up until now, you know.”

And just like the usual, B has something to keep him on his toes. “Just emails have never been fine, Tim.”

So��maybe the undercurrent of it would be nice to see you back in Gotham once and a while, you know, when you have time and shit might not have all been lip service after all (but he already has a Robin, right?)

Instead of voicing it, giving old hurts a space in reality, he goes with the automatic defense, “the accident didn’t make me an invalid, B. I’ve still been vigilantie-ing it up, blind or not.” The hard edge to his tone implies no one else picked up on it so I must be doing something right.

Another shift, a shrug, and just like Batman, he drops something completely fucking unexpected, “I never stopped keeping track of you, you know.”

Is…not what he expected to hear, just like with the CEO thing.

In true Bat form, B starts rattling off longitude and latitude, one set, two sets, three sets, four sets (and fuck, apparently he had been keeping track. The realization is jarring, a bucket of cold water over some of his previous notions of not a Bat anymore).

“Those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.”

“I…”

“The point of this is the same one I gave you at the Manor.” Bruce tries to say it softly, take the hard punch out of his words. “You’re one of my Robins. You always will be. That’s what happens when you agree to take up the mask.”

He draws himself up a little because the implications (the I’ll have your back, all you need to do is call and I’ll come). And just like he was still that teenager in the tunic, Tim feels the heat in his chest, the undeniable feel of comfort, safety B has always brought forth in him. Even when they worked their own cases, were continents away, he knew, had believed, B would come running, B would still need him—

His face turns away, scarred fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup, an automatic response (and he doesn’t even realize he’s tapping out R-O-B-I-N in Morse code) to keep motion while his brain works.

“I appreciate it,” is finally what he can give back, soft and firm. “It’s…it hasn’t been… easy. Acclimating, I mean, to this,” and a general wave at his face. “But, I’m…better now. Better than I was. It’s—” and he almost, almost falls back on his usual diversion, his absolutely bullshit when he’s got nothing left.

It feels out of place here, in the space of his sanctuary, the place he had to make useable without the Manor, the Cave, Titans Tower to fall back on— it feels out of place because Bruce…still doesn’t pull any punches.

The hand, that hand, the one that’s caught him countless times over the years, pulled him back in so fucking many ways—from over the edge of buildings, from his own recriminations, his own failures, from blood loss and sleep dep, from working himself into a coma, from—

That hand can still wrap around his wrist with room to spare, a thumb rubbing easy circles over his pulse, a reminder.

When he swallows, his throat is thick again, his eyes heating up just a little, just enough for him to chuff a laugh, a half-hoarse, rusty sound.

If there’s one thing the Batman and the real Bruce have in common? They don’t bullshit the good guys about the important things. If B came here to say it, went through the trouble of finding the Tim’s rabbit hole, he meant every damn word.

The litany of things he might have said fades down with the realization, and Tim raises his eyes, tries to make sure he’s looking at Bruce when the genuine half-smile is almost a wince.

“Do you…do you want to come downstairs and see the set-up?” (And no, his voice doesn’t break a little, his chest doesn’t lurch with the familiarity of it all.)

But he can hear it in Bruce’s tone, stark relief. “Yes actually, I do. Very much so, Tim.”

**

And outside, Gotham City breathes as day gives way to night; the Birds of Prey step out, taking their time to work. Nightwing and Robin fill in the gaps, moving like they’ve fought together their whole lives, and it gives the Batman time, time he so obviously needs.

Once N splits up with him, plans to meet back at the Mylar Building at two-thirty, Robin makes an impressive leap, launching himself through the sky.

Robin ends up in the Narrows, jumping around the old theatre where O used to make herself comfortable. He grapples up to the Queen & Sons headquarters, the tallest building in this part of the city, and makes himself comfortable between the feet of his favorite gargoyle. He idly listens to the back and forth between O and N, O and Batgirl, Black Canary and the thug she’s beating the shit out of, Black Bat and O, all the sounds of family.

(Speaking of which)

All-in-all, he does not have to wait very long for his next appointment of the night.

Anyone else not in the cape and cowls would have missed the soft boots striding across the roof, but Robin has been meeting here the last few months, attempting to make something in their world right again—to give something back.

And perhaps because he is no longer under the delusions of the League, perhaps because he is getting older, perhaps because he is Robin and the symbol of his chest means so much more than it meant when he first desired it, perhaps because now he better understands making the right choices for the right reasons, he has continued to attempt these interactions.

The taller vigilante ducks under the wing of the gargoyle, sitting on the ledge of the building rather than back under the statue. A careless toss of the greasy paper bag lands the offering right in Robin’s lap, and the smell is not…necessarily terrible.

A bottle of his preferred Vitamin Water is tossed at him as well, and he has it open, drinking it down while his eyes slide to the side behind the whiteouts. The soft noises, metal on metal, are indeed a testament to how far they have come in the last few weeks.

The red helmet is left on the roof between them and a small flame flickers behind a gloved hand, lighting a casual cigarette while Robin hands over the chicken burrito and takes the veggie one for himself.

“I call this meeting a’ the Dead Robins Club ta order,” the Red Hood smirks at him through the shadows, lenses up on his domino so his eyes are just as jade as the waters of the Pit, “all right Demon. Gimmie the skinny, yeah?”