rosella007rh

[mar1garden]

At First Sight

okay. so i DID say i dont rly write non-daminette maribat ships but im SO WEAK FOR SOULMATES that i just couldnt turn down this request. so here yall go first time writing timari (WARNING: THIS IS ANGSTY UNTIL LIKE. THREE QUARTERS OF THE WAY THROUGH. IM SO SORRY BUT LIKE. YEA SORRY) (WARNING TWO: I PUT SO MUCH SUGAR IN HERE. IM SORRY. THERE IS SO FUCKIN MUCH) @minightrose hope you like it fjdhhdj

Marinette was used to the whispers behind her back. She was the only member of her class without a soulmark, after all. It was to be expected.

Chloe had, when they were younger, made sure everyone knew that Marinette was unmarked. She’d said it meant Marinette didn’t have a soulmate, that she was unlovable. Though she’d always tried to brush off others��� comments, it still hurt. The words pierced deep, and on that day Marinette decided that if she was to be unloved, no one around her would ever feel that way.

She took time every day to make sure someone around her felt uplifted. She brought treats, made gifts, talked with people who were alone. Chloe was cruel to her still, telling her that pretending to be nice would never change her. Telling her that, no matter what she did, she would never have a soulmate.

After so many years, Marinette began to believe her.

When she became Ladybug, her world changed. She had always stood up for others, never herself. But something about defeating a giant stone monster that used to be your classmate makes it easier to stand up for yourself, and so she did. Marinette, once a timid but kind presence, retained her kindness, shedding all of the timidity that once defined her.

She quickly became friends with the new kids, especially after Alya stood up for her and Adrien apologized about the gum. Her, Alya, Adrien, and Nino became close friends. It was one afternoon in the beginning weeks of spring that found the four of them hanging out in the park near the bakery. Chloe had walked over, a malicious smile on her face.

“You know what I just realized, Dupain-Cheng?” she asked without preamble. “These two don’t know about you!” she added, gesturing to Alya and Adrien. The two looked between her and Marinette, who was quickly paling. 

“Chloe, don’t, please-” she protested, standing up quickly. She adopted a pleading look, her eyes wide and scared. Chloe simply laughed.

“Adrikins, Cesaire, did you know that our resident little goody-two-shoes here has no soulmate? That’s right! She’s unlovable, isn’t that right?” Laughing, Chloe walked away as Marinette wrapped her arms around herself.

She looked like she was trying physically to hold herself together. Her eyes were downcast, pooling with tears. She was unlovable. Why had she thought otherwise? She had no soulmark. She had no soulmate. Alya and Adrien would leave her, would think she was a freak like everyone else did. Nino would leave her too; he had only become her friend because there was safety in numbers. She would be alone again, she would be all alone-

Her train of thought was cut off when arms wrapped around her gently. She wrenched her eyes open to see a familiar blue t-shirt. She hugged Nino back, letting the tears stream down her face. More arms wrapped around her and she recognized Alya’s hands where they rested around Nino’s shoulders. When Adrien joined the group hug, Marinette allowed herself to smile. Her friends weren’t going to leave her. Her friends were by her side.

A year later, a new new girl had joined their class. Marinette feared repercussions when she told her to stop lying, but Lila never followed through on her threat. Two weeks after she’d declared war on Marinette, Chloe had told the class that Lila didn’t have a soulmark either. After class, Marinette had found Lila and told her she was also unmarked. Lila confessed to Marinette that her soulmark had disappeared when she was young, that her soulmate had died before she’d even had a chance to meet them. She cried in Marinette’s arms, and Marinette had readily comforted her.

The next day, when Marinette came in with personalized macarons for everyone, Lila looked at her with an odd mix of gratitude, surprise, and hope. The two became friends after that, baked goods and shared struggle helping Marinette connect to Lila.

When Marinette won the class a trip to Gotham for their end-of-year trip, the first people she told were Alya and Lila. The class found out soon after, but for a moment, the three of them were the only ones who knew. 

On the plane, they discussed plans. All of them slept a bit, just so the jetlag wouldn’t be too bad when they got to America. Marinette slept soundly, knowing she had the horse miraculous in her pocket in case of emergency. 

Wayne Enterprises was beautiful, and Marinette had to catch up to the class multiple times because she got sidetracked sketching out ideas for WE inspired outfits. At the end of the tour, they were going to meet the young CEO of the company. All of them were excited; he was just over their age and was already running his own company? He must be a genius!

What they were not expecting to see was a sleep-deprived teenager holding three cups of coffee. They were expecting it even less when he downed all three of them in around four seconds. He blinked his eyes open and swept his gaze over the class. When his eyes met Marinette’s, they both felt a shock go through them.

Wow, her eyes are really blue. Better keep her away from B, he might adopt her.

<<Wait, what? I didn’t think that!>>

I didn’t think that. Wait-

“Miss Bustier? I need to go to the bathroom, is there one on this floor?” Marinette asked, panic kicking in. How could she hear this kid’s thoughts? How could he hear hers? What if he heard something he shouldn’t?

The CEO spoke up. “There is. I can show you where it is, if the class is okay with waiting for a minute.” His voice sounded the same as it had in her mind. He walked over to her and took her arm gently, walking with her towards the restroom.

As soon as they were out of earshot of anyone, he quietly answered her unspoken question. “I’m your soulmate,” he said unprompted. Marinette blinked owlishly at him.

“But-”

“That’s impossible? You don’t have a soulmark, so you can’t have a soulmate? That’s not quite true. I don’t have a mark either, so I looked it up when I realized I wasn’t going to develop a mark. There are intangible marks, though they’re very rare. This is one of them. That said,” he turned to her, now that they were out of the class’s line of sight. 

That said, he repeated, if you don’t want a soulmate, we can pretend this never happened.

She shook her head furiously. Of course I want a soulmate! I just can’t believe it. Oh my god. I have a soulmate!!

He looked at her curiously. Before, you were thinking in French. Are you thinking in English on purpose now? he asked, taking her hand gently between his.

Marinette blinked. No, I guess I just heard you and switched. It felt easier than trying to translate. Why?

It’s just, he replied, you sound so lovely speaking French.

Marinette turned bright red as the two went back to the group.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation. 

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day. 

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No. 

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her. 

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public. 

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears? 

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off. 

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—” 

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking. 

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation. 

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him. 

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already. 

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity. 

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait. 

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl. 

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy. 

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

[black-streak]

Maribat March - Day 25 - Roommates

I'm really on a kick with the Timinette lately. Probably just because I'm looking forward to working on my next big work here soon. Dick is everyone's big brother.

MM Taglist:

@maribat-march2020 @emo-elaine13

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @jardimazul @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08

~---~

Living with a strange man you technically don't know but trust with your safety is a strange feeling. I mean sure, both Harley and Ivy had assured her that Richard Grayson was perfectly harmless. Well. Beyond the fact that he could break a man in two with ease, but to someone like her? Harmless. Perfectly sweet and caring and willing to protect her should she need it.

The only reason the two lovely rogues hadn't taken her in themselves was a lack of space and willingness to drag her into their lifestyle. Not that Nightwing himself was much better, but at least here she wasn't cramped up on a small couch. 

Really, it worked out well for the two. Mutually beneficial, if you will. Despite him being a good decade older than her, the guy couldn't cook for shit. Or maintain his space. But then again, she's an immigrant with no documentation. That wasn't quite on the top of her priority list when she portaled out of Paris. So maybe cleaning up and cooking wasn't too steep a price to pay for a safe place to stay. Plus, Dick made great company whenever he was actually home.

Speaking of, that sounded like him coming through the window now.

Wait, no.

That's definitely not him.

Standing in the middle of the living room, she stared at the red, black, and gold vigilante crouched upon the window sill and staring back. He made a move for something at his side and she decided now would be as good a time as any to speak up.

"Um. Dick's not home at the moment. Obviously. Uh… should be back any second now though. You can wait? If you'd like?"

The eyes narrowed further on her and his hand pulled out a baton, so very like the one Chat once used, leaning forward in preparation to pounce. Her reflexes kicked in, sliding her feet into a defensive posture, prepared for the attack. The vigilante launched off the perch, but only to tumble straight to the ground, revealing Nightwing in the window, having landed directly against the other's back, throwing him in.

"Oh hey! Sorry, Mari, I forgot to tell him you were here. This is my little brother," Dick gave a shit-eating grin as he peeled off his mask after having closed the window, sidestepping the said brother who stayed face down on the floor, grumbling to himself.

As Dick went off to the kitchen to make a mess of it, she was sure, she picked her way over to the pile of human below the window, kneeling down and tilting sideways to meet his eyes with a warm, apologetic smile, "Hello, I'm Marinette. His roommate. You must be Tim."

His eyes snapped up to hers, mouth gaping open.

"Oh shoot, I'm not supposed to know that, am I? Sorry, he has no filter at home," she pouted.

Tim's face slowly turned red as she watched, and deepening her concern, "hey, are you okay? You're not injured, are you? I'm great with stitches," she tried to reassure.

Seemingly snapping out of it, he lifted himself off the ground and peeled off the mask, clearing his throat simultaneously, "I'm fine. Sorry, just wasn't expecting you."

Her lips perked up into a comforting smile, offering him a hand up, "That's understandable. Here, let me help you. Would you like anything? I was baking bread before you showed up. Hopefully Dick hasn't eaten it all," she drifted off, grabbing his hand and leading him into the kitchen to join his brother.

His brother, who took one look at his little brother's flushed face, speechless quiet, and grasped hand and grinned bright and wide. He knew it was a good idea to offer his place up for the night.