#maybe im wrong. but protesting is suppose to call for the change and disruption of something

[bookwyrminspiration]

“we support the right to protest so long as it’s not disruptive” I feel like. being a little disruptive. to a system or power doing something you don’t approve of or support in order to change it. is kinda the point

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[sixtyeightdays]

Timinette social media or timinette with being underappreciated?

i am so sorry this took so long but i hope you like this! :)

i kind of strayed off topic a little and its a little mess so im sorry for that but i hope this is okay

this will have some bruce bashing so uh yeah 

theres also tim and jason brotherly bonding because i am a sucker for brotherly bonding fics.

also, tim, mari, chloe (basically the parisian folks) are 16. jason is 19, dick is 23, and damian 13.

-

Timothy Drake Wayne had had his issues with his own self worth before.

Unlike everyone else in the family, he hadn’t been born into the family, or even been chosen to be part of it. This did sometimes result in a severe drop in Tim’s confidence levels, but he always managed to bring it back up.

Eventually, Tim found that the best way to deal with it was just to accept it. Not act out on it or anything. No, it was best to just accept it and be on his way.

At first, he had fought the unwanted thoughts invading his head, but appointing him as CEO of Wayne Enterprises had been the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

If they didn’t want me in the family, why would they make me CEO of Wayne Enterprises? Tim thought.

But then it pushed itself into Tim’s mind.

Because they don’t want you at the manor.

Tim shoved the thought away and shook his head, looking out the plane window.

Just.. accept it. There’s nothing he could to but accept it. He had no one to talk to either.

Damian would probably jeer at him and call him a weakling. Tim didn’t really need that. Bratty little 13 year old, that one. Besides, Damian wouldn’t care about it anyway, probably just tattle on him in hopes of getting Red Robin benched permanently.

He had contemplated talking to Dick about it for a while. After all, Dick was the ever so helpful Golden Boy. But then he decided against it. Of everyone in the family, Tim would never expect Dick of all people to understand issues with self worth. Dick was told very often that he was loved, wanted. Dick would probably tell Bruce anyway, and that was the last thing Tim wanted.

Jason.. well he was busy. He was always busy. Regardless of how his and Jason’s relationship had drastically improved, he wasn’t ready to open up about this. Don’t get him wrong, Tim was glad that he and his old hero had started to make amends, and now Jason had barely any qualms in calling Tim his brother, and that he could call him whenever he wanted. It made a rush of warmth erupt in his chest whenever he heard it.

But, he just didn’t feel ready to talk to him about it. To anyone about it.

Now, it was Monday morning and he was on his way to Paris in the Wayne company jet, because some rich designer named Gabriel Agreste requested some sort of business partnership.

There was also a designer called MDC that Tim was very interested in meeting. He was a huge fan of her work. He had checked out her website and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of her work, especially since she had no employees and made everything herself.

The fact that she was Jagged Stone’s honorary niece had also contributed to Tim wanting to commission a MDC original.

He had contacted her a before the plane left, and lucky for him, she had decided to meet him at his hotel on Thursday after lunch to discuss and take measurements

It was partially why when Bruce asked him to go to Paris, he didn’t fuss. He didn’t even protest about how being in Paris would affect Red Robin’s patrol. He had just nodded and left.

It had been a very last minute decision, and he hadn’t even had time to tell Jason about it. He had left a few hours after Bruce told him about it.

Tim sighed, leaning his head against the cool window of the plane, taking a sip from the coffee mug he held in his hands.

He admittedly zoned out for the rest of the journey, but in his defense, there was only an hour left on that flight anyway.

Stepping off the plane with his baggage, he made his way to the exits and after checking out of the airport, hailed a cab to bring him to his hotel, Le Grande Paris.

He may or may not have also zoned out on his 15 minute long ride to the hotel. Tim felt bad for the very nice taxi driver whom he had ignored, and gave him a very generous tip. After all, it wasn’t like he needed the money.

Judging from the wide eyed and awed glance the driver shot him as he left, the driver appreciated it very much.

Walking into the hotel lobby, checking in and waiting for the room key to be given to him, Tim already knew he was going to turn down Gabriel’s offer.

His research had shown that Gabriel was a recluse and hadn’t left his house in years. His assistant, one Nathalie Sancouer went on appointments with him on a call. He was also seemingly cold to his only son, which didn’t fly well with Tim, especially since the son was the same age as him.

He was expected to finish more work in Paris, especially since there was no rogues to disrupt anything.  

He was not expecting a petite bluenette to crash into him and change his outlook on life.

The girl who bumped into him blushed profusely and apologised while two blondes, a girl and a boy laughed behind her.

She shot the two a playfully stern look, narrowing her eyes. Her eyes had the same glint Selina had when she saw Bruce. Playful, yet deadly. It was amazing how fast the blondes shut up.

“I’m Tim.” He shook Marinette’s hand, slightly charmed by the blushing girl.

“I’m Marinette. Are you checking in? I can escort you to your room. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

Tim was startled. Marinette did not seem to have any idea that she was talking to CEO of WE. She was talking to him like he was Tim. Just Tim. He was intrigued by the girl. The way she said her sentence, she wasn’t boasting or showing off, she was stating a mere fact out of politeness and the kindness of her heart.

You don’t see that around much anymore, Tim mused. It was like a breath of fresh air.

He nodded in acceptance and showed her the room number on the key that he was given before she had bumped into him. Her eyes widened.

“Well, looks like you’re on the floor I was already going to. Chloe lives here. Her father runs the hotel, and all the penthouses are on the same floor.” Marinette waved her hand at the blonde girl who was laughing earlier.

The girl stuck out a hand. “My name’s Chloe, the pleasure’s all yours.”

Tim’s lips curved into a smile as he shook her hand. “I’m Tim.”

Chloe pointed to the boy next to her. “That’s Adrien.”

Tim recognised him. He was that Agreste boy. The son of Gabriel Agreste, who he was supposed to meet on Thursday. Tim vaguely wondered if Adrien was going to be there for the meeting.

Tim didn’t like it when people announced out loud that he was a Wayne. So he didn’t do that to Adrien. Tim just shook his hand with a smile. Adrien smiled back, and Tim could see that gratitude in his eyes.

Tim nodded and his mind drifted to Marinette. She seemed rather nice, and she didn’t seem like the type of person to take advantage of rich kids. He decided to ive her the benefit of the doubt. Obviously, Chloe and Adrien trusted her, so he was willing to be open minded about this.

Besides, on the unlikely chance that she was trying to suck up to rich kids, Tim could very easily sue her, or at the very least, scare her off.

Marinette, Chloe and Adrien took the lift up with him, the four falling into an easy banter. Tim was very glad he had become fluent in French a few months prior to going on this trip.

Once they reached the outside of Tim’s suite, however, Marinette turned to Tim.

“Do you, maybe wanna join us after you put your things down?”

Tim grinned. “Why, I’d love to.”

-

It was the right thing to do. The four of them had a blast, and Tim knew now more than ever that Marinette genuinely liked the company of the two blondes and that she wasn’t just using them. He didn’t think she was, but it didn’t hurt to check.

They had hung out together, from that afternoon to late in the night, to around 9 maybe? Tim wasn’t sure. Tim felt a warm rush of joy flow throughout his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hung out with anyone that weren’t using him for his money or weren’t his family.

The four had become really close and the three Parisians probably knew more about Tim that his whole family did put together at this point.

Tim couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose so freely.

It was funny how it worked. Tim didn’t know why, but he had the comforting feeling that they could be trusted. Sure, they hadn’t known him for long, but he felt a sense of comfort with them, more comfortable than he’d ever felt with Bruce, hell, more than even Alfred.

Tim didn’t tell them all of his secrets, obviously, Red Robin being one of them. But it was okay. Unlike Bruce, who would research and pry into his business, Chloe, Marinette and Adrien shrugged it off.

“We’re all entitled to our own secrets.” Marinette had told him.

It made Tim wonder what kind of secrets the three were keeping, but he brushed it off. If he didn’t have to spill his secrets, the three didn’t either.

Eventually, night fell, but only Adrien left. Tim had looked to Marinette questioningly, and she just shrugged.

“His dad needs him back. I told Maman I was staying over with Chlo tonight. It’s not a school night after all.” She shrugged.

It was funny how much Tim trusted the three. He trusted them more than he trusted Bruce, at this point. Even if the trust he had in Bruce wasn't much to go on, it was surprising how easily the ex-Robin trusted the Parisians. But then again, life worked in strange ways, and this may have one of its strangest yet.

But Tim didn't protest. He rather liked the Parisians and like he's said, he trusted them. And from the looks they all gave him throughout the day, fulling of laughter and openness, he knew without a doubt that they trusted him too.

Among all three Parisians, Tim had bonded with Marinette the most.

Firstly, while the three were a formidable trio, Chloe and Adrien, it seemed, were childhood friends. They were extremely comfortable around each other, and it wasn’t like they were trying to leave Marinette out. They included her in everything they could, but the noirette occasionally bowed out and let the two friends do their thing.

Secondly, Tim was pretty sure that the two didn’t normally have so much childhood games. He was pretty sure they were making some of them up on the spot.

If Tim didn’t know better, he’d say Adrien and Chloe were trying to set him and Marinette up.

Marinette. The amazing little bluenette that crashed into him and changed his outlook on life.

Yes, he had only known her for less than a day, but they just clicked.

Marinette had tried not to, but it was obvious that her self esteem was at an all-time low, much like his. When Tim had asked Chloe and Adrien why when Marinette was in the bathroom, they had filled him in on how a girl named Lila at their school was bullying her and spouting lies about her.

“How bad are her lies?” Tim questioned.

“She saved Jagged Stone’s kitten from a airplane runway.” Chloe said.

Tim spit out his coffee.

“She misses months of school to be in Achu to work with Prince Ali for Go Green campaigns.” Adrien continued.

Tim didn’t know Achu or Prince Ali very well, but he was pretty sure the prince only did Helping Children Campaigns. He took a sip of his coffee.

“Her latest one? I was dating Damian Wayne, but he and his brother fought over me and now I’m dating Timothy Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises!” Chloe said the last part in a nasally, simpering tone that was obviously meant to be Lila’s voice.

Tim choked. Lila was 16! Damian was 13! Tim mentally filed a reminder to sue this Lila girl. Also, his love life was rather pathetic. He hadn’t dated since Stephanie. Lila’d would probably do a better job going after Jason if he weren’t with Roy. Wait, no. Jason didn’t like psychopaths. Or maybe he did, Tim wasn’t too sure.

“That was pretty accurate.” Adrien looked slightly impressed.

Tim shuddered. What kind of sicko had a voice like that?

Marinette had come out of the bathroom at that point, and all three of them effectively shut up. She looked concerned and asked Tim if he was okay and why he was so pale.

He shook his head. “I’m cool, cool, cool.” He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to be suave and Marinette laughed.

Tim’s expression softened at the melodic sound. Chloe and Adrien exchanged a look before smirking at Tim.

Marinette had subtly complimented him a lot over the span of a few hours, and Tim had felt his confidence level slowly rising. It made Marinette smile.

Tim had returned the favor, and by the end of the next day, he and Marinette had almost as many inside jokes as Adrien and Chloe did.

(Chloe had walked Adrien to the door, and Tim and Marinette had hid from Chloe in Tim’s suite, giggling at Chloe’s playful irateness.

Tim had a great time.

He had also managed to finish most of his work beforehand.

He, along with Chloe and Adrien, had gone to Marinette’s house on Wednesday, and the four of them had spent the whole day in a peaceful silence doing their work.

Chloe and Adrien had finished their school work early and had copied their work into Marinette’s workbook. Tim had smiled at the sight because he was rather happy that Marinette had friends who were willing to do this sort of thing for her.

Marinette had spent the whole day working on several commissions, sketching the designs and sewing them out. Tim had been shocked by how many different types of fabric the bluenette had in her closet. Chloe and Adrien had shot him a look that said “get used to it”.

Tim was pleasantly that no one had disturbed him while he was doing his work. they had all done their own work respectively, and even when they were done, like Chloe and Adrien, they had kept quiet and didn’t make any noise to disrupt Tim and Marinette, apart form their whispered chatter.

In Gotham, Tim would almost always be interrupted by rogue attacks or his brothers and father. It made it almost impossible to finish his work on time, and resulted in many overtimes and no sleep.

Marinette’s parents, a happy baker couple who’d persuaded Tim to call him Tom and Sabine instead of Mr and Mrs Dupain Cheng, had stocked them up with a steady supply of pastries and amazing coffee. It was probably expected, they did own a bakery after all.

Tim swore that the Dupain Chengs’ pastries could rival Alfred’s.

While Tim was looking at Marinette work, he was taken aback by her efficiency and quality of her sewing. Normally, one jacket would take a day to make, including handmade embroidery. Marinette had done it within two hours from scratch.

Tim was tempted to commission her, but it seemed that her plate was already full, so he didn’t. Either way, he had come to meet with Gabriel Agreste and possibly MDC.

When they were all done with their work, after spending practically the whole day in Marinette’s room from 9 in the morning to 6 in the evening, they decided to go get dinner.

Tom and Sabine bid them goodbye heartily before turning to their customers and pulling a tray out of the oven.

Tim had met Chloe and Adrien’s significant others. A rather cold girl named Kagami, and chill looking boy named Luka. (Tim thought that Kagami and Chloe, and Luka and Adrien suited each other and balanced out perfectly.)

Originally, Tim had thought that Luka was dating Marinette. After Luka had hugged Adrien, he had turned to Marinette and called her ‘his Melody’. It didn’t help that she called him ‘her Harmony’.

Tim totally did not feel jealous.

But then Marinette groaned and nudged Tim in the ribs. “I guess we’re fifth wheeling.”

“Aren’t you dating Luka?” He pointed to the green haired boy.

Chloe and Adrien clutched their stomachs, laughing, while Kagami and Luka smiled. “Nope. Mari-hime is single.’’ Tim swore the fencer stared into his soul.

Tim was not afraid to admit that Kagami scared him more than the Joker did. Okay, maybe the Joker was a far stretch. Killer Croc or Two-Face maybe.

Luka leaned down and gave Adrien a peck on the lips. The model blushed and Luka grinned, exposing two slightly sharp canines, much like a snake’s.

It was currently mid November, so it was pretty cold. But Tim didn’t see why Mari was wearing a layer of heattech, a long-sleeved sweatshirt, a hoodie, and her winter coat, plus her hat, earmuffs and gloves.

She looked like a puffy marshmallow. A very pink, cute marshmallow.

Luka had shot him a ‘it’s better not to ask’ look and Tim wisely kept quiet.

They had a great time at dinner. Tim and Mari had an amazing time. Tim wasn’t entirely sure about the others, he was too busy paying attention to Mari.

The crinkle of her eyes when she smiled, the red flush from the cold dusting over her freckles lightly, the bluebell colour of her eyes.

He didn’t notice the ‘he’s so whipped’ looks from everyone else. Luka shrugged.

“Well who doesn’t like Melody once they meet her?”

Everyone else shrugged. “Fair point.” Chloe muttered, burying her head in the crook of Kagami’s neck.

Suddenly, screams broke out from nearby. Marinette immediately ceased talking and whipped around to face her friends. Tim looked very confused at her actions but looked worriedly to where the screams were coming from.

Suddenly, the floor rumbled and they all looked up to see baby August, who had been akumatised into Gigantitan again.

Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Luka and Kagami immediately herded Tim back to Mari’s house, where they hastily climbed up the stairs to the loft.

“Tim, stay here.” Kagami ordered.

“What is this?” Tim couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s an akuma attack.” Chloe shrugged, looking not at all fazed.

Actually, Tim noticed, none of them looked fazed in the slightest.

“This is maybe August’s 7th time getting akumatised?” Luka said. “He’s relatively harmless though. It happens a lot.”

“Wait, where’s Marinette and Adrien?” Tim questioned, suddenly noticing that they were missing.

Kagami, Luka and Adrien exchanged a glance. “They’ll be fine.” Chloe waved offhandedly, logging into Marinette’s computer to turn on the live news from Nadja Chamack.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!” A pink haired lady was standing abnormally close to where Gigantitan was. Tim felt slightly worried for her.

“I’m Nadja Chamack, and we’re here at another akuma attack. It seems to be just baby August, however, so don’t worry. Ladybug and Chat will be here soon enough!”

Tim was appalled at the lengths this woman was seemingly willing to go to to get the scoop.

Noticing his expression, Luka smiled. “Don’t worry, Tim. She’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that?” If Tim let this happen, he was very sure that Bruce would murder him for a) getting that lady killed b) not helping. “I have to help!”

Chloe pushed him back into the chair where he was attempting to rise. “Sit down.” She ordered.

Tim didn’t want to, but he was interrupted by Nadja speaking again.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are on the scene!” The camera view zoomed into a pigtailed girl in red and black spandex with a blonde boy in a leather catsuit. Tim vaguely wondered if he was Selina’s kid.

Tim’s eyes almost fell out of his head when he saw the two of them run up the side of the Eiffel Tower, with no grappling hook, no vault, nothing, before flipping off of it like a well oiled machine.

It was obvious that the two trusted each other to a deadly extent. They worked like two parts of a whole piece. 

August swatted Ladybug away with a wave of his hand, flinging her into the Eiffel Tower so hard it dented.

Panic seized Tim’s stomach when Nadja Chamack was trampled on by August, effectively crushing her. When August lifted his foot, Tim looked away.

Chloe, Kagami and Luka did not look fazed, and Tim wondered why, before standing up again. Chloe pushed him back down.

“She’ll be fine, relax. All of Paris have probably died at least, what, 9 times?” Kagami stated, crossing her arms. She levelled Tim with a steely glare and Tim cowered in his seat.

How did the League not know about this?

Suddenly, the person holding the camera cheered, as swarms of Ladybugs flew everywhere, fixing damages. Tim noted with relief that Nadja had reappeared in front of the camera, looking slightly confused but otherwise fine.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Tim staggered to the bathroom, and right when he was about to puke, two thuds landed behind him. Tim could see a green and pink light flash and he turned around to see what it was.

He was just in time to see Ladybug and Chat Noir detransform, leaving Adrien and Marinette, looking stunned.

That was it for Tim, he hurled.

And Marinette was there, brushing his hair out of his face and holding the back of his shirt so it wouldn’t get in the way. Adrien had edged out of the room, while an unfamiliar voice was chortling.

When Tim was done, he washed his mouth with shaky hands, and Marinette looked at him sympathetically and with a slight trace of fear. It was almost undetectable, but Tim had spent enough time with Cass to know when someone was scared, no matter how she tried to hide it.

Tim didn’t want Marinette to feel scared of him. He wanted her to feel safe around him. He shakily spun and engulfed her in his arms. Her body relaxed tremendously as she hugged him back.

He was taller than her by a only few inches, so Marinette’s head was comfortably buried in Tim’s chest. Tim was thankful that none of his vomit had gotten on his shirt.

“I like you, Mari. So, so much.” Tim confessed.

The bluenette he was holding wiggled in his arms, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

“I like you too, Tim.” Her quiet voice broke into Tim’s train of thoughts as he panicked.

“I know, you probably don’t like me back but-- wait, what? You like me too?” Tim knew his voice had cracked but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I do.” Marinette confirmed, stepping on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Tim’s face flushed and Mari giggled.

“Does that mean you wanna--?” Tim blushed even more.

“Yes.” Marinette was obviously enjoying the way Tim was suffering right now.

“So.. it’s official?” Tim asked hopefully, looping his hand with Marinette’s.

“It’s official.” She grinned.

Adrien had interrupted them at that point, and after Tim changed into one of Marinette’s designs, a black, long sleeved shirt with ladybugs at the side, she and Adrien had explained about the miraculouses.

Chloe, Kagami and Luka revealed that they were also miraculous holders, but they were temporary heroes, even if they got to keep the miraculous on hand.

Marinette and Adrien were joint Guardians of the Miraculous, and they were something called true holders. The Ladybug and Chat miraculous were two halves of a whole, Adrien had explained. He and Mari were also the only permanent miraculous users chosen by the previous guardian, while Chloe, Kagami and Luka were chosen by Marinette.

Tim was then introduced to the some of the kwamis (Pollen, Tikki, Plagg, Sass and Longg), who referred to Marinette and Adrien as Guardians.

Tikki referred to Marinette as Mari, Plagg referred to her as Pigtails. Tikki referred to Adrien as Adrien, and Plagg referred to him as ‘kid’. It didn’t take a genius to know who wore the pants in their relationship.

Then, Marinette and Tim’s newborn relationship was brought to light, and Tim was sufficiently scared from the shovel talks given by the Parisians, as well as the kwamis. Marinette had laughed at him, and he had pouted for the rest of the night.

“I wield the power of Destruction in my hands so if you hurt Pigtails, I’ll cataclysm you. I sank Atlantis, so don’t try me.” Plagg’d scornfully stated.

Marinette had berated him and told him that Plagg really needed to stop sounding so proud that he sunk Atlantis, while Tim went pale and was reminded of his secret.

“Uh. Guys? I have to tell you something.” Tim wrung his hands together nervously. “You know how in Gotham, there are vigilantes?”

They nodded.

“I’m.. one of them? I’m Red Robin.” Tim squeaked.

There was silence, but then everyone, bar Marinette and Kagami burst into laughter.

“Only you, Melody, could create a love square with only two people and still somehow fall in love with a superhero.”

Mari flushed and Tim looked confused. “Who..?”

Everyone pointed to Adrien. He shrugged.

“M’Lady and I are soulmates.” He winked, intertwining his and Marinette’s hands.

“But we’re platonic soulmates.” Adrien dramatically let go of Marinettte’s hand. “Adrien had a crush on Ladybug. Marinette had a crush on Adrien.” He explained further.

Realisation dawned on Tim and he fell back into Marinette’s lap as she groaned at the way Adrien worded it.

“You suck.” She deadpanned.

Adrien had the gall to grin at her. “I’m also the one you share a soul with.”

She rolled her eyes.

Everyone had a nice laugh, but they all fell asleep rather quickly. It had been an emotionally and physically exhausting day for all of them.

The next day was Tim’d meeting with Gabriel Agreste. Tim wasn’t sure if the others knew he was Bruce Wayne’s son, but he figured if they didn’t he may as well surprise them.

So Tim left a note for them, and left 15 minutes prior to the meeting at 9, leaving the his friends in Marinette’s room.

hey guys, i have a business meeting at 9. i’ll come back as soon as i’m done, which will be 10? latest. i’ll probably be back before you guys wake up. i hope i will. bye for now. see u mari <3 love, tim.

His friends. Tim’s heart warmed. This was the first time he had made friends that weren’t his family, or superhero buddies.

Tim arrived at Agreste Manor at 9 on the dot, ringing the doorbell.  An electronic camera shot out from the wall and Tim jumped.

The person behind the camera opened the gate, and a buff man escorted him into the Manor, where Gabriel was waiting.

He was standing at the top of the steps, looking down at Tim. He inclined his head, and Tim followed the elder Agreste into his office.

The meeting went faster than expected. Tim had been expecting Gabriel to persuade him, but he had let Tim go. Instead of the half an hour meeting Tim was expecting,it was only twenty minutes.

Gabriel had offered a partnership with the Waynes in which he’d design for them, and they’d sponsor him. Tim had politely declined, and Gabriel looked slightly put out, waving to the buff man to escort him out.

Adrien had walked into the manor as soon as Tim reached the center of the room. Adrien stopped short.

“Tim? What are you doing here?”

Tim pointed to behind him, where Gabriel’s office was. “Business meeting.” He repeated, and waited for Adrien to connect the dots.

His eyes widened. “You’re Timothy Drake? CEO of Wayne Enterprises?”

Tim nodded. Adrien’s eyes widened before he smirked. “Have you told Mari?”

“I was gonna tell her today.”

“Nah, she has a meeting at like 2, with a client.”  

Tim frowned, but then shrugged. “I’ll tell her before.” He decided. “I have a meeting at 2 too.”

Adrien nodded and smiled. “Treat her right.” He said, before entering his room.

Tim smiled, even after Adrien was out of sight. “I will.”

-

Tim had a few hours before his meeting with MDC. He made his way back to the bakery, where he was greeted with a peck on the cheek by Marinette.

“Chloe went back to the hotel, Harmony and Gami have school, and Adrien had to go home.” She beamed. So cute.

Marinette and Tim spent the few hours eating lunch in Mari’s room and watching Netflix, judging the shipping potential between the Brooklyn Nine Nine characters.

They had agreed that Teddy was boring and annoying, Jake and Amy were a power couple, and Rosa was a badass .

Marinette really liked Gina, Tim preferred Holt.

Soon, it was time for the meeting. Tim and Mari both had to go back to Le Grande Paris, so they opted to walk there together.

“Who are you meeting?” Tim asked curiously.

“Some CEO named Timothy Drake.” She replied.

Tim stopped. He turned to Marinette.

“Timothy Drake.” He repeated. Marinette gave him an odd look. “Do you know him?” She asked.

“You’re MDC?” Tim’s voice came out strangled and Marinette looked taken aback.

Understanding dawned on her and she stared at Tim. “You’re Timothy Drake?”

He only nodded.

They stared at each other for a minute but then burst out into laughter, causing a nearby mother on the phone to shoot them a nasty look.

After the initial shock wore off, the two had continued to the hotel. They were on the way, anyway, and they could always either visit Chloe or stay in Tim’s suite.

Marinette giggled as she worked, deftly taking Tim’s measurements.

“Normally this takes forever,” Tim remarked, peering over Marinette’s shoulder and watching in awe as she drew out the design for his suit.

Within minutes, it was done. Tim was amazed by it. It was a simple suit, but the colours she encorporated into it as well as the designs made Tim extremely happy. It managed to capture his essence, and look stylish at the same time.

She’d even drawn a design for the tie! (instead of blue, it’s red)

After about three hours of Marinette working in Tim’s suite (she had gone home and gotten the fabrics and used the sewing machine she always leaves in Chloe’s room), as well as Tim finishing his remaining paperwork for WE, the suit was done. Tim was awed by it.

The suit jacket was a nice, velvety maroon colour that was reminiscent of Tim’s Red Robin suit and Marinette’s Ladybug suit. The inside was a black colour, as another tribute to the colour schemes of Tim and Mari’s secret life.

The tie was the same deep red colour of the suit. What Tim loved the most about it, however, were the tiny coffee cups sewn on it. “A personal touch.” Marinette had said.

There was also the letter T embroidered on the back of the tie and the lapel of the suit right next to the MDC emblems.

“What do you think?” Marinette asked nervously.

“I love it!” Tim lifted Marinette up by the waist, spinning her in the air. She laughed with joy and he put her down but still in his arms.

He cupped his cheek and Marinette’s hand wrapped around his neck. Simultaneously, they leaned in and their lips met in a chaste kiss.

Marinette ran her free hand through Tim’s hair as Tim’s free hand pulled her closer to him by the waist.

Suddenly, the door burst open and they jumped apart. 

It was Chloe, smirking wildly, her phone camera raised.

It didn’t take a genius to know what happened next.

Mari and Tim chased Chloe around the hotel to get her to delete the photo. Chloe crowed loudly that she was going to send the photo to Adrien, Luka and Kagami.

(Mari and Tim did catch her but Chloe had already sent the text.)

The six friends had a buttload of fun the next few days. Occasionally incorporating their work into the mix, Tim had never been so on time to hand in his paperwork.

On Saturday, a few hours before Tim was supposed to go to the airport to get on the Wayne private jet, the six were in Chloe’s room. 

The only sound that could be heard was the faint chatter between Chloe and Kagami who were talking together, the soft strums of Luka on his guitar and Adrien next to him constantly dying while playing Subway Surfers and him raging not-so-quietly. Tim’s head was leaning on two pillows in Marinette’s lap, typing on his laptop which was propped up on his lap while Mari’s pencils scratched against the paper in her sketchbook.

It wasn’t exactly silence, but it was peaceful. An almost silence, if you would.

Until a phone blared to life. 

Everyone jumped as the shrill sound of Tim’s ringtone pierced through the peaceful almost silence.

Tim cringed. “Sorry!” He called. 

He swiped the accept button without looking to see who it was, mildly pissed off.

“What?” He snapped into the phone.

“TIMMY!” A familiar voice burst out. Marinette jumped and dropped her sketchbook on Tim’s face, glaring at the phone. Tim pulled the phone away from his ear, and put a finger to his mouth before pushing the speaker button.

“Tim? You okay?”

“Apart from you bursting my eardrums, I’m fine. What do you want, Jason?” Tim answered dryly. He wasn’t sure if his irritation could be heard through the phone but Jason picked it up.

“Not very nice to your favorite brother, now is it Timmy.” Tim could imagine Jason wagging a finger sarcastically in his face.

“Learned it from you, Jay. But seriously what do you want? I’m kinda busy.”

“You may wanna put your coffee cup down for this.” 

Tim sighed and placed it on the floor.

“Now what?”

A bang was heard from outside and all of them, bar Tim and Mari (Tim was way too lazy to get out of Marinette’s comfortable lap, and she couldn’t get up with him in her lap) rushed to the door to see what was happening. 

Some people had burst into Tim’s room across the hall.

Three guesses who.

“What are you doing, dumbasses?” Chloe’s exasperated voice rung out.

A man with a white tuft in hair was standing in the doorway turned around, phone in hand. He hung up on the call promptly.

“We were looking for our brother, Tim. The receptionist said he was in this room. Have you seen him?” An older man walked out of Tim’s room, with several others hot on his heels. 

The shortest one was dark-haired and had green eyes, the other was a girl with chopped dark hair, an arm wrapped around a taller blonde girl’s waist. There was also a redhead in a wheelchair. The other two there were males, one was an near bald elderly, the other had blue eyes and dark hair and was rather tall.

That was six of them, Chloe noted. She and the others exchanged a look, debating whether or not to let them see Tim. After all, they could be lying and were kidnappers or something.

They obviously noticed the look. The tall one with blue eyes spoke. “You know him! Where is he? Did you kidnap him?”

Adrien choked trying to hold in his laughter. Luka patted him on the back calmly.

A tsk came from the inside of the room. Chloe looked back. Tim shrugged. It was her room, after all.

Chloe bit her lip, looking torn between letting them in or kicking them out. She looked to Kagami for help, and she nodded, but then inclined her head toward Chloe. Basically, ‘I think you should, Tim seems to know them. But he may not want to see them. Your call. Your room.’

The guy with the white tuft looked ready to barge in the room.

Chloe huffed and opened the door wider. She and the other stalked back to their seats with the echoing sound of ‘ridiculous, utterly ridiculous’. Everyone outside exchanged looks, and entered.

They were not expecting to see Tim in a girl’s lap, that was for sure.

Instead of the greeting they were expecting, Tim merely turned his head to look at them before huffing and returning his gaze to his laptop screen.

Marinette laid a hand protectively on Tim’s head and started running her fingers through his hair. 

If they weren’t shocked before, they definitely were now. Their eyes practically bugged out of their head at the sight.

“Replacement?” Jason cautiously asked. 

Tim huffed, much like Chloe, and Marinette ceased her ministrations. Tim whined, but Marinette levelled a glare at him and he sat up.

Marinette muttered softly, “I can see why your self confidence is so low.”

“Nah, Jason’s one of the nicer ones. It’s teasing.” Tim assured her. The girl only pouted and fell back into her seat, picking up Tim’s laptop to read what he was working on before Tim’s family rudely barged in.

Jason looked slightly touched.

Tim sighed and crossed his arms. “What are you guys doing here?” Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka slowly inched around Mari and Tim. This did not go unnoticed by the Waynes.

“We came to visit you, Timbo!” The tall one said.

Tim pinched his nose. “That’s Dick. Barbara. Cassandra. Stephanie. Alfred. Bruce. Damian. Jason.” Tim pointed to each of them in turn. 

Luka spoke up. “I’m Luka. That’s Adrien, Chloe, Kagami and Marinette.” Marinette shifted when her name was called, exposing the laptop screen to the Waynes. Their eyes widened when they saw the bold letters ‘Murders and Muggings: Patrol Recap’. 

Dick coughed into his hand, jerking his head towards the computer. Tim rolled his eyes at Dick’s attempt at being subtle.

Jason and Stephanie snickered. Dick looked offended. 

Dropping all pretence out the window, Tim deadpanned. “They know my secret. Didn’t tell them about yours, though they’ve probably figured it out already.”

“You should’ve told us beforehand, Timothy!” Bruce looked like he was a second away from yelling. A steely glare from Kagami stopped him from doing just that. Cass looked at her in approval.

Marinette bristled at Bruce’s tone, but did not move from her seat. This wasn’t her battle to fight-- it was Tim’s.

Bruce pinched the end of his nose. “I’m disappointed in you, Timothy.” 

Despite knowing Bruce was going to say that, Tim winced. Jason looked pissed and opened his mouth to say something, but someone else beat him to it.

“How dare you.” Marinette’s quiet voice shook with fury as she stood up. Tim squeezed her hand and let go. Adrien, Luka, Kagami and Tim instantly surrounded Tim, forming a protective circle around him.

“How dare you. Tim is the most wonderful person I know. Other from the idiot I share a soul with, my Harmony, my Dragon and Queenie, he is the only person who is genuinely kind and caring. He is the sweetest person I know and if you think you can step into our turf and belittle my boyfriend, you have another thing coming.” Marinette snarled.

Adrien stood up, stepping forward to stand next to Marinette. “I’ve only known Tim for a few days, but he means a lot to all of us. Like Marinette said, you will not step into our turf and be rude to our friend.”

“You underestimate how much power we have here.” Kagami moved over to the other side of Marinette, eyes flashing. 

Chloe stood next to her. “I can very easily kick you out of this hotel, out of Paris, even. Tim is my friend, and we will not stand here and let you talk shit about how he disappointed you.”

Luka stood up, moving next to Adrien. “Like we said, Tim means a lot to us. You have no idea how much he does for all of you. He deals with your stupid company paperwork, even though he’s only 16 and it should be your job. He spends more time helping you on patrol and fighting rogues than paperwork but you scold him because he can’t finish as much as you’d like?”

Marinette’s normally warm blue eyes that were so full of love were now completely devoid of emotion. “That isn’t parenting, Bruce. That’s toxic.” She spat out Bruce’s name with so much loathing and hate, that he unconsciously took a step back.

Tim was very touched. No one had ever done that for him before. No one had the guts to stand up to Bruce Wayne or Batman. His eyes watered and he hastily wiped them away.

Bruce’s eyes flashed, and he strode forward. “I think you underestimate my power.” He spread his arms. “I’m Bruce Wayne. I can kill your career in a heartbeat. I can make sure you are never hired by anyone, nor will you ever be able to make a name for yourself. I’ve almost died before. Damian and Jason have. We deal with things you guys can only dream of. Sure, your father may be the mayor of Paris, Chloe, but I can easily kick him off his position of power. Don’t fuck with us.” 

Marinette’s eyes flashed with surprise at Bruce’s declaration that Jason and Damian have died. Ignoring Bruce, she turned to Adrien, who was squinting at Damian. 

“Do you want to heal them of the Lazarus pits? We can, after all. We’re Creation and Destruction.” Marinette spoke in the Guardian language.

Adrien side eyed the Waynes and nodded. “Even if Bruce is a bitch, Jason and Damian don’t deserve to live like that.” 

Marinette and Adrien looked behind them, past Tim, to where the Kwamis were hiding. Plagg and Tikki nodded. After all, they could always wipe the Waynes’ memories if they weren’t willing to keep it a secret. The Waynes didn’t know what they were saying. Jason stifled a laugh when Adrien caled Bruce a bitch, but the Waynes instantly went on guard at the sound of Jason and Damian’s names (since their names can’t be translated).

Marinette and Adrien turned back to Tim and the others folded, closing the gap that they had left, so no one could lip read or learn from their body language what they were about to do.

Marinette and Adrien walked a few steps back, a few steps in front of Tim but a few steps behind the others. They smiled reassuringly at Tim. They weren’t going to hurt Jason or Damian. Tim nodded. He trusted them.

Tikki and Plagg zipped over to them and phased into their joined hands. Adrien and Marinette smiled to each other closing their eyes. They channelled the Guardian energy, Creation energy and Destruction energy. 

They lifted their raised hands, and as if on command, Chloe and Kagami stepped aside, allowing the green and pink swirling energy in their conjoined hands to shoot towards Jason and Damian. The beam split halfway, hitting both Jason and Damian.

They braced themselves for pain, but they didn’t feel anything. They looked around, and saw the energy. The green colour of it was one everyone instantly recognised as the Lazarus Pit madness.

They could do nothing but watch as more and more green colours was sucked out of Jason and Damian before swirling upwards and over their heads into a ball of green energy.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the green stopped escaping them, and Jason and Damian could feel an immediate relaxation of their feelings. It was like there was anger and negative emotions buried into a pit of their minds, but they didn’t notice that it was there until it was gone.

The green energy ball was now as as big as a bowling ball. It churned once, and started shrinking. Something was compressing it and forcing it into a smaller ball. With a sizzle, it split into two. A pink ball and a green ball, the sizes of an apple.

However, the green ball wasn’t the Lazarus color green. It was a warm green, the colour of emeralds. Despite that, within both the pink and green shell had a green ball, the toxic colour of the Lazarus pit inside. It swirled around in their respective prisons, but couldn’t break free.

The balls of energy slowly drifted towards where Marinette and Adrien were standing with serene looks on their faces.

The pink shell hovered in front of Marinette, while the green one hovered in front of Adrien. The pink and green encasing the Lazarus green broke apart, and the pink and green energy shells flew into their conjoined hands.

Marinette and Adrien opened their eyes. They weren’t eyes anymore, just glowing eye sockets. Marinette’s were pink, and Adrien’s were green. The same colour of the shells, the others realised.

Now what was left were the fizzling balls of the Lazarus pits, its toxic green giving off an eerie glow.

Marinette and Adrien held up their free palms, and the balls rested on their waiting hands.

They looked to each other and seemed to be communicating before the plunged the balls into their chests.

Their whole body glowed for a second before lifting the two up in the air. The Waynes, Luka, Kagami and Chloe jumped when they started talking.

“This hurts.” Marinette admitted. Her face did not show any kind of discomfort. Adrien grinned. “Yeah, it does.” His didn’t either.

They shared a laugh before the green and pink faded, and the two plummeted onto the carpeted floor. Just before they hit it, the green and pink glowed softly again, allowing the two to land gently on the floor, feet first.

The light faded completely and Marinette and Adrien collasped in the chaise behind them, unclasping their hands and panting slightly. Plagg and Tikki zoomed out of their hands as soon as they separated and didn’t even bother hiding.

They plopped themselves on their chosens’ heads and all four of them began to nap.

“Did they..?” Dick uttered in disbelief.

Jason and Damian could only nod.

“Lazarus. Gone?” Cass pressed.

They nodded again.

“Forever?” Bruce croaked.

“Yep.” Marinette’s exhausted voice came from the chaise. Everyone spun to look at her. Chloe ran to her room’s kitchen, bringing out some honey, cookies, camembert, chocolate and eggs.

The active kwamis zoomed out form their hiding spot and got to work on their food. Marinette tiredly pushed herself to her feet, stumbling. Tim caught her. Marinette smiled gratefully at him, and gently scooped Tikki off her head. She reached over and got Plagg too. 

She nudged Tikki with her finger and placed her next to the cookies. She didn’t bother to wake Plagg up; he’d wake up as soon as he smelt camembert. She placed him down, next to Tikki and they woke up, lazily nibbling on their foods.

Mari let out a breathy sigh and swayed on her feet. She curled up next to Adrien and started to snore.

Dick frowned. If she was dating Tim, why was she so cozy with Adrien?

He moved to wake them up.

Suddenly, he stiffened and fell to the floor.

Pollen stood behind them, antennae still poised after stinging Dick. “No one wake the Guardians up.”

Muffled protests from Dick on the ground.

“They share a soul, Dick, being next to each other recharged them faster.” Tim explained.

“They what now?”

-

well yes thats it. 

i kinda got sloppy at the end because i spent almost 8 hours on this, and its only 8k words. im kinda proud of it though lol

no there will probably not be a part two, although i may upload this on ao3

anyway i hope you liked this !! <3

[thelastspeecher]

Spy AU - Toxin, pt. 1.5

Randomly, last night, I sat down and wrote this.  It takes place shortly after the first thing I wrote with the toxin.  After getting targeted by an enemy while on a mission, Ford is attacked with a toxin that reverts him to being a three-year-old.  In this ficlet, Stan and Angie are taking Ford to find clothes that will fit him and don’t belong to his nieces.  It...doesn’t go as well as any of them would like, but at least Ford gets ice cream before they head home.

              Ford stopped in the middle of the aisle.  While he caught his breath, he looked around at the shelves, covered with various brands of chips and snacks.  The song playing over the store intercom changed from country to pop.  He was staring blankly at a bag of corn chips when Stan rushed back to him.

              “Geez, Sixer, don’t scare me like that,” Stan said, putting a hand on Ford’s shoulder.  “We thought you got kidnapped or something.”  Stan followed Ford’s gaze.  “…Do you want chips?  Is that why you stopped following us?”

              “Not really,” Ford mumbled.

              “Okay.  Why did you do that, then?”

              “I don’t wanna say.”  Ford ducked his head.

              “C’mon.”

              “…My legs got tired,” Ford said reluctantly.  “I was- I was just taking a short break, that’s- that’s all.”  His already small voice got smaller and smaller as his sentence went on.

              “Oh.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  Ford frowned at him.  He clearly had something to say.

              “What?”

              “Nothin’.”

              “Stanley.”  Ford crossed his arms in a gesture more mature than one would normally see in someone his apparent age.  “You’re holding back.  You’ve got a suggestion or comment or something.  Spit it out.”

              “Fine.  There’s a really easy solution to your problem.  Two, actually.”

              “Is one of them finding somewhere to sit for a little while?” Ford asked. Stan shook his head.  Dread began to build in Ford’s chest.  “I’m not going to like it, am I?”

              “No.  No, you aren’t.”  Stan sighed. “Look, you’ve got tiny legs now. Just a fact.  You take a lot more steps than I do to go the same distance.”

              “…I know this.”

              “Yeah, but I’m reminding you, so that…maybe my suggestions don’t upset you as much.”  Stan stuffed his hands in his pockets.  “The way I see it, you’ve got two options, like I said.  Option one is you riding in the cart.”

              “In the baby seat?  No!  I explicitly said I wouldn’t do that, back at the house.”

              “Option two,” Stan continued, “is having me or Angie carry you.”  Ford’s jaw dropped open.  “You can’t keep up with us, Sixer.  You know that.  So if we wanna finish shopping and head back home quickly, you have to choose one of those options.  Your suggestion – taking a break – would take a long time.  ‘Cause it wouldn’t be just one break.  It’d be a lot.  We haven’t even been here a full twenty minutes and you’re already too tired to keep walking.”  Stan smiled sheepishly at Ford.  “It sucks, but them’s the breaks.”

              “I- I can’t do either of those,” Ford whispered.  “You- you can’t make me choose!”  Stan sighed and crouched down to Ford’s eye-height.

              “Either you choose, or I do,” he said firmly.  “I don’t like it, either.  But sometimes you don’t have any good options.”  Ford looked down at his feet.

              “I- I don’t wanna choose,” Ford whispered.  Stan sighed again.

              “Carrying you, it is.”

              “No!  I won’t do it!” Ford protested, stomping his foot instinctively.  He froze, the immaturity of his action crashing over him. Stan scowled and scooped Ford up in his arms, then stood to his full height again.

              “Don’t talk to me like that,” he scolded.  Ford swallowed nervously.

              “S-sorry, I didn’t-” he squeaked out.  Stan groaned.

              “Shit, no, Ford.  I’m- I was the one who fucked up there.  I’ve heard that sorta stuff from my daughters a million times, and I slipped into ‘Dad Mode’. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

              “No, I- that was a reasonable reaction,” Ford said quietly.  “It’s- it’s how you would respond if I was actually a petulant child.  We are in public.”  Stan sighed one more time.

              “Still.  Well, uh, let’s, uh, let’s go find Angie, okay?” he said, feigning a cheerful tone. Ford nodded.  Stan set off.  Ford frowned, frustrated at how much faster they were moving, now that Stan was the one walking.  After a few moments, they found Angie perusing clearance dresses.  “Ang, I found him.”  Angie looked up.  She beamed.

              “Ya most certainly did!  You ready to find some clothes, Stanford?” she chirped.  Ford nodded reluctantly.  Angie paused for a moment, watching the two brothers.  She cocked her head.  “Uh, aren’t ya goin’ to put ‘im down?”  Ford buried his face in Stan’s shirt so that he could pretend he didn’t hear how Stan replied.  Unfortunately, his hearing wasn’t impeded whatsoever.

              “His legs got a bit tired is all,” Stan said.

              “Ah.  Okay.” Angie’s tone was mild, but Ford felt a hot flush rush across his face.  He squeezed his eyes shut.  Stan patted his back gently, but while the gesture was supposed to be comforting, it just frustrated Ford more.  They started moving again.  Ford could hear Angie humming softly.

              Why does she do that so much? It’s- it’s- His agitation began to slip away.  -it’s very soothing.  He sighed.  Angie knows what she’s doing.  So does Stan, for that matter.  They’re both excellent parents.  His comfortable position, snuggled against Stan’s chest, was disrupted as Stan carefully peeled him off and set him down on the ground. Ford looked up at Stan.  Stan chuckled and ruffled his hair.

              “That’s a damn cute face, Sixer.”  Ford blinked at the compliment.  Stan grinned. It was the affectionate smile of someone looking at an endearingly adorable child.

              “Stanford, sweetheart, come over here,” Angie called.  Ford looked over.  Angie was standing next to a display of various shirts, frowning at a sweater emblazoned with the Loch Ness Monster on the front.  “This looks like somethin’ ya might enjoy.”  Ford walked over to where Angie was standing.  She held the sweater up.  “Right size, seems like.”  Ford stared silently at the sweater.  In Angie’s hands, its minute size was clear.  He glanced past Angie, at a nearby boy being helped by a woman he assumed was the child’s mom.  Distress churned in Ford’s stomach.

              I’m…so small right now.  That- that literal toddler is taller than me.

              “Well?” Angie asked.  “Do ya like it?”

              “Yeah, it’s- it’s fine,” Ford choked out.  Angie set the sweater back on the display and crouched down.  Ford determinedly looked away from her worried gaze. He hurriedly wiped away a couple tears that had escaped from his eyes.  “I- I like it.”

              “Hon, are you all right?” Angie asked softly.  Ford let out a loud sniff.  Seemingly summoned by the noise, Stan appeared at Ford’s side.

              “Bud?” Stan asked quietly, crouching next to Ford.  “Somethin’ wrong?”  Ford clenched his hands into fists and pressed them tight against his eyes. “Ang, you’ve got his size now, right? Think you can handle it on your own?”

              “Sure,” Angie said.  “Just keep yer phone on ya, and I’ll find ya when I’m done.”  Ford felt Stan carefully pick him up.  He let out a sob.

              “C’mon, buddy,” Stan said soothingly, rubbing his back.  “We’re gonna go for a little walk, okay?”

              “B-but the clo- the clothes,” Ford sobbed.

              “Angie’s gonna handle it.  She’s better at this stuff anyways.  Wanna go to the food court?”

              “I- I-”

              “Yeah, let’s go to the food court,” Stan continued.  “Get some ice cream.  Okay?”

              “O- okay.”  Stan began to walk.  Ford could hear the change from the generic radio station to the faint background chatter of the mall thoroughfare.  Stan was humming to himself like he often did when doing everyday tasks.  The mundanity of the sound calmed Ford.  He finally opened his eyes and peered over Stan’s shoulder.  Immediately, he wished he hadn’t.  There were two teenage girls walking behind Stan, clearly having spent a full day shopping. They were also clearly watching Ford with wide eyes.  One of the girls, short with red hair piled in buns, saw Ford looking at them and elbowed her much taller friend excitedly.  Her friend gasped and covered her mouth.

              “Oh, my gosh, he’s so cute!” the taller of the two girls gushed.  Ford looked away, blushing.

              “You scared him!” the other girl said.  Stan’s pace picked up.

              “Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Stan said softly.  “Just ignore ‘em.”  Ford nodded silently.

              After a few more incidents of Ford catching people watching him, they finally arrived at the food court.  Ford let out a relieved sigh.  They went through the line at the ice cream place without incident, but Ford’s delicate good mood was strained by Stan grabbing a booster seat for Ford to sit on at a table.  As Stan set up the booster seat and put Ford in it, Ford stared at him pleadingly.

              “Please don’t do this,” Ford whispered.  Stan’s expression was wracked with guilt.

              “…I don’t have a choice.  Not- not only would it be suspicious, but it’s not safe.  You have to use the booster.”  Seemingly acting on instinct, he kissed the top of Ford’s head.  “All right, eat up.  Can’t let it melt.”  Stan handed Ford his scoop of butter pecan in a dish and took a seat, then attacked his own treat, a chocolate cone.  A few bites into his ice cream, Ford could feel himself perking up.

              “Excuse me?”  Stan and Ford looked over.  The speaker was a woman neither of them recognized, holding a baby carrier occupied by a sleeping infant.

              “Uh, you talking to me?” Stan asked.  The woman nodded.

              “I was just wondering – how did you teach your son such good table manners?” she asked.  Stan frowned.

              “My son?” he asked.  Ford coughed quietly.  Stan looked at him.  His eyes widened.  “Oh, yeah, uh- he, uh-”  Stan’s stammering was suddenly replaced by a suave demeanor, as he slipped into his spy training.  He beamed. “Stan Junior here, he didn’t get that from me.  You’d have to ask his stepmom.  She’s the one that taught him all his good manners.”  Stan grinned at Ford.  “Isn’t that right, Junior?”  Ford stared silently at him, unsure of what a three-year-old in this situation would do. Stan chuckled.  “He’s a bit shy.”

              “Aw, well, I am some strange, random lady that walked up to the two of you,” the woman said with a laugh.  “Thanks anyways.”

              “No problem.”

              “Have a good day, Stan Junior,” the woman cooed at Ford.  She walked away.  Ford scowled.

              “Really?  Stan Junior?” he hissed.

              “It was the first thing that popped into my head.”

              “I thought you were better than that at improvisation.”

              “Hey, that coulda gone way worse,” Stan said defensively.  “Finish your ice cream.”

              “Ya didn’t get me anything?” a familiar voice asked.  Angie took a seat at their table.  Stan grinned.

              “Nah.  This was a special treat for just us guys.  Right, buddy?” Stan said, winking at Ford.  Ford quirked a small smile; Stan’s exuberance was contagious.

              “Hon, I think ya can lay it off a bit,” Angie said quietly.  “Not many folks ‘re payin’ attention.  There’s plenty of cute lil kidlets at the food court.”

              “Oh.  Yeah.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “Dammit.  I’ve been slipping into ‘Dad Mode’ with Ford a lot.”  Angie put a hand on Stan’s back.

              “Yer adjustin’.  We all are.” She looked at Ford.  “How are ya holdin’ up?”  Ford shrugged.

              “All right, I guess.”  He poked at his ice cream.  “Didn’t like the people who kept looking at me,” he muttered.  Angie frowned, confused.

              “Buncha teens and old ladies thought he was cute and stared at him,” Stan explained.

              “Ah.  Well, that’d happen, since ya are mighty cute,” Angie said.  Ford sighed.

              “Yeah, I…I guess it’s a curse.”  Angie and Stan chuckled.  Stan shoved the last bit of his ice cream cone into his mouth and stood.

              “I’m gonna hit the john before we head out.”  He kissed Angie on cheek.  “Back in a minute, babe.”

              “I’ll hold ya to that, darlin’,” Angie said teasingly.  Stan walked off, ruffling Ford’s hair on the way.  Angie moved closer to Ford.  “Here.”  She carefully messed with his rambunctious curls, returning them to something more closely resembling a neat hairstyle.  “Better?”

              “Yeah.  Thanks.”

              “It ain’t no problem, sugar-cube.”  Angie grimaced.  “Oh. Whoops.  Sorry ‘bout that.”

              “It’s fine.  No worse than Stan scolding me earlier, or him carrying me everywhere.”

              “He calls ya ‘buddy’ a lot, too, I noticed.”

              “I don’t mind that as much.”

              “Good.  ‘Cause I don’t see that lettin’ up any time soon.  Stan, uh, he really wants a son.  Lately, I’ve caught him mumblin’ in his sleep ‘bout throwin’ a football to someone he calls ‘sport’.”  Angie smiled sheepishly.

              “That might explain why when a lady asked about me, he called me Stan Junior,” Ford commented.  Angie laughed.

              “Oh, that’s right!  He put that name on the list.  I told him that under no condition would I name my son Stan Junior, but he didn’t care.” Ford cocked his head.

              “Are- are you and Stan-”

              “No,” Angie interjected.  She shook her head.  “Not- not yet, at least.  Just talking about trying again.”

              “Remember the last time you and Stan were ‘just talking’?” Ford said, raising an eyebrow.  Angie chuckled.

              “I remember.  I remember very well what happened. We’re tryin’ to be a bit more careful this time.”  Angie smiled warmly.  “Sorry that yer trip to the mall was so upsettin’.  Hopefully I picked out some clothes that ya like.”

              “You have good taste.  I’m sure it’s fine,” Ford said with a shrug.  Stan returned to the table.

              “All done with your ice cream?” Stan asked.  Ford stuffed the last bite into his mouth, swallowed, and nodded. “Great.  Let’s get goin’.  Want me to pick you up again, Sixer?  We’d get to the car faster that way.”

              “I know,” Ford said.  “And I’m feeling slightly better about that particular fact now.  But…maybe Angie would carry me?”  Stan’s mouth fell open in a surprised “O”.

              “Ya sure?” Angie asked.

              “You two are incredibly surprised by this,” Ford remarked.

              “I mean, ya did know Stan when ya were this age the first time ‘round,” Angie said.  Ford shrugged.

              “Fair enough.  But Stan claimed you were my stepmom, and that’s something a stepmom would do, right? And I don’t think I can handle the embarrassment of my younger brother carrying me again.  At least, not today.”

              “If yer sure,” Angie said.  Ford nodded. Angie stood and picked Ford up from his booster seat.  As she carefully nestled Ford into a comfortable position, he thought about how this was different from being carried by Stan.  Her patterned blouse was softer than Stan’s T-shirt, and she smelled like citrus and sweet peas, much more appealing to Ford than Stan’s usual aroma of motor oil, cigar smoke, and whiskey.  “Comfy?” Angie asked.

              “As I’ll ever be,” Ford said.  Angie stroked his back.

              “That’s good enough fer me.  Let’s head home.”

[viralhottopics]

A morning with ‘adorable deplorables’: why Trump supporters are optimistic

On a bus bound for the inauguration in Washington, backers of the new president explain their views: He isnt putting people down

On the bus, in the morning darkness, Steph and Brandi put on their makeup, using a phone as a mirror.

Stephanie Friess and Brandi Tillman have been friends since high school, and now they were on their way from Wilmington, Delaware, to Washington to celebrate the man who had given them a brand new country.

On election night, Steph stayed up past 3am to see Trumps victory being announced. The next morning, remembering the night before while driving her car, the 24-year-old felt jubilant to be living in Trumps America.

The two women made matching Trump caps blue and black decorated with sequins and the slogan Adorable Deplorable in honor of the inauguration. Hillary Clinton had tried to attack Trump for lifting up the most deplorable among his followers: the racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamaphobic you name it. Trumps followers had proudly reclaimed the term, and now Brandi and Steph bedazzled it.

Two friends on an early bus to Trumps inauguration apply their makeup. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

On Saturday, hundreds of thousands of women will be marching in Washington in protest of Trumps presidency in a demonstration called the Womens March.

While large majorities of black and Latina women voted against Trump and for Hillary Clinton, white women didnt. Brandi and Steph are part of the majority: early exit polls showed that 53% of white women voted for Trump, including 45% of women with college degrees.

The two women, both college students, were not entirely convinced by Donald Trump at first. But, Steph said, he definitely grows on you. Both friends say they appreciate Trumps bluntness, his toughness, his lack of greed, and what seems like a genuine love for America.

He wants everyone to be successful, Stephanie said. He isnt putting people down.

Brandi liked Mitt Romney, but he wasnt strong enough, the 25-year-old said. He wasnt empowering us enough. He plays that innocent politician role that all politicians play. Trump doesnt do that.

A cake cant be racist

On the bus to Washington, many of the womens fellow white Trump supporters expressed frustration at constantly being labeled racist. It was a term, some argued, that liberals just threw around whenever they were losing an argument.

A local bakery in Pennsylvania had just produced tiny hat-shaped Make America Great Again cakes in honor of the inauguration, and a short post about the themed cakes on Facebook had sparked a long debate, with some commenters labelling the bakery racist, or saying they would not longer patronize it. Why not a grab em by the p*ssy cake? one commenter asked. Or a deport all immigrants cake?

Laura Ann bought two Make America Great Again cakes. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

The bus supporters were indignant. They had won. It was supposed to be a day to celebrate. And yet the news was full of protests and threatened disruption, and even a bakery making an inauguration dessert had somehow become divisive.

A cake cant be racist, Dave DeFries, a longtime Trump supporter from Delaware County, Pennsylvania, said in exasperation.

In the seat behind Brandi and Steph, Laura Ann, 34, who asked that her last name not be used, had bought two of them. She sliced them and handed them out. The cake was moist, the frosting tasting faintly of marshmallow.

Laura Ann had voted for Obama twice. She worked in healthcare, and had wanted the president to fix the health insurance system. He had failed. She was still kicking herself for voting for him. As a gun owner with several AR-15 rifles she found them light and easy to handle as a female shooter she had also been frustrated by the constant attacks on the so-called assault rifle.

Id really like to see [Trump] help the inner cities more, she said. She thought Ben Carson, who grew up in Detroit and went on to become a surgeon, would be a great force in helping urban America.

Eileen, at 46, had cast her first ballot ever for Trump. I want the jobs to come back to America, she said. Her brother, a systems analyst, had lost his job to workers in India and had been forced to personally train the Indian worker who was taking his place, under threat of losing his pension.

Eileen also felt Obama had failed to bring insurance companies in line to bring healthcare costs down. Worried that her high school friends who voted for Clinton would attack her, she asked not to publish her last name.

Many of the supporters said they had never been politically involved before Trump ran for president. Several had voted for Obama at least once. Some of the new activists said they were amazed by the energy of Trumps movement. It doesnt seem like a political environment, Dave Ennis said. It seems like were going to a football game.

Some said that their friends or family were worried that something might happen on inauguration day, that the protests might make DC dangerous. One man mentioned that he had seen a video produced by the conservative provocateur James OKeefe about activists discussing a plan to throw acid on Trump supporters.

Its like, I get it, I get it, slavery was bad. I didnt do it

At the back of the bus, Dave sat opposite his wife and 16 year-old son, Brian, who he called a liberal snowflake. The two of them argued constantly, the father said, especially about Black Lives Matter.

Brian said he believed that the Black Lives Matter protesters and the Boston Tea Party rebels were identical except for their race. Protesters had to be loud to make themselves noticed. His father was more skeptical that black Americans were being unfairly victimized. His own interactions with the police when he was younger had taught him that when people chose a certain lifestyle, the police would target them and there was nothing wrong with that.

Inauguration buttons on sale in Washington DC on Friday. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

Brandi and Steph said that felt that racism toward black Americans had been given a disproportionate platform compared with other kinds of racism. They disapproved of Obama supporting the Black Lives Matter movement, which they saw as racist.

Why is it Black Lives Matter, not all lives? Stephanie asked.

I just dont think most cops are out to get black people, Brandi replied.

The media blows a lot of this out of proportion, Stephanie said.

I didnt think its bad that we had a first black president. Thats not bad. Thats great, Brandi opined. But Obama should not have been elected to a second term. I think his color had a lot to do with that.

In school, Brandi said, some black girls had bullied her, and when she complained, my teacher told me to grow a thicker skin.

Asked about the systemic inequality black Americans face in the criminal justice system, or in education Brandi said that, because shes been living in Delaware, a relatively liberal state, maybe I havent seen that as much.

I, like, see the opposite. Black people get free college, she said. My moms a single mom. Im not white privileged, and Im sick of being told I am.

Both said that felt they had grown up and gone to school while constantly being told things trying to make us feel bad for being white. Slavery was a topic of discussion again and again, the schools focused on black authors, its always black history month.

Its like, I get it, I get it, slavery was bad. I didnt do it, Brandi said.

Brandi said she felt bad for her other minority friends Hispanic, Asian, Indian who also faced racism, but seemed to get less attention. Her Indian American friends faced job discrimination, she believed, by people who might not think they fit the look they wanted, or who bought into the stereotype that they might be terrorists.

Im a little bit worried about the tweeting

Both friends also had some concerns about Trump. Stephanie didnt believe for a long time that Trump could really pull off a presidential demeanor. Thats why she thought Clinton would win. Brandi said she did not believe new environmental protections should be rolled back, and her stepmother had serious concerns about Trumps pick for education secretary, Betsy DeVos, a billionaire philanthropist and school choice advocate whose understanding of basic educational concepts and laws came under question during her confirmation hearing. I know teachers arent very happy about that, she said.

Brandi Tillman, 25, and Stephanie Friess, 24, display their homemade Adorable Deplorable hats on the way to Trumps inauguration. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

Im a little bit worried about the tweeting, Brandi added. She was concerned, she said, that he might say something

That he cant take back, Steph broke in.

But for the most part, the two friends were optimistic that Trump would tackle the economy, create jobs, address cyber-attacks, and make America stronger. Brandi, who was waitressing as she went through college, said: Id like to see more money. Id like to see more tips.

Neither of the friends had been concerned about his comments about grabbing women by the pussy. That was 10 years ago, and people change, Brandi said.

Brandi said if a famous billionaire had tried to grope her, she would have sued immediately, not stayed silent for years until the man ran for president. Damn straight, if someone gropes me, I would want to sue, she said. Steph disagreed. She probably would have stayed quiet, she said.

A Belgian journalist who was also on the bus then took his turn and interviewed the two women about their support for Trump, and asked them to comment on the fears many Americans have about the coming months.

Brandi said her faith as a Christian kept her from being too anxious, and that Americans should calm down. Trump, after all, was just the president.

Hes not God. Hes not Hitler. Its not the end of the world, she said.

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