#timinette fic

[calico-kiwi]

The Coffee Trials

Chapter 4: Quest Unlocked: BananaJam in the Target

Fandom: Maribat (Miraculous Ladybug x DC)

Tags: Tim Drake/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Original Character, fluff & Shenanigans, no plot & no update schedule

Work Summary: Both Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are incredibly successful and busy people. Two people who both view coffee as their lifeblood. When they find themselves needing each other to obtain ultimate coffee rights at their favorite cafe, two total strangers become allies. And friends. And perhaps eventually… something more.

Chapter Summary: Skye reveals the quest Tim and Marinette must complete in order to earn their first hint. Shenanigans ensue, as they always should.

Links: ao3 work, ao3 chapter, First Chapter, Previous Chapter

Read below the Keep Reading!

“Your quest,” Skye begins, “is…”

“To film a video in the cereal aisle of a Target with one or both of you dancing in a banana suit wearing sunglasses.”

Tim and Marinette are left standing there, speechless.

“Tim, I’m never letting you spin the wheel again,” Marinette deadpans.

“How the fuck did you manage to come up with that idea!?” Tim asks Skye incredulously, ignoring Marinette’s comment.

Skye simply shrugs, answering, “My sleep paralysis demon is easier to deal with if I imagine he’s a funny silly goofy little guy doing funny silly goofy little things.”

“I guess?” Tim says. “Ok,” he continues, “where the fuck are we supposed to get a banana suit though?”

Marinette sheepishly raises her hand. “Um-” she starts. Thinking to herself, ‘Oh my kwami I can’t believe I’m about to admit this,’ she tells them, “I… actually already have a banana suit somewhere in my apartment.

This, at least, seems to be the first piece of information to visibly shock Skye, and Tim too holds a certain look of bewilderment.

‘Damn Adrien and his stupid Banana Noir costume that he managed to get shipped with the rest of my things when I moved to Gotham. I can’t believe that mangey cat’s prank actually paid off,’ Marinette thinks. ‘Damn you Agreste, but also thank you.’

“It’s… a long story,” she says, wincing. “But the face is covered. Would it still count?”

Skye, over their initial shock, smiles. “Hey, I’m not one to judge. I think the fact you have that lying around is hilarious, regardless of the reason. And yeah, even with the face covered, that’ll work. Add the sunglasses on top of the costume in that case. Just make sure you address the camera at some point in the video so I can hear your voice and confirm it’s one of you. You don’t both have to dance in banana suits, so if one of you chooses to be the person taking the video instead, just be in-frame for a portion of the video so I can confirm you’re there as well.”

Steeling herself for the embarrassment to come, she sighs out, “Alright then. I guess we’re doing this.”

Tim leans over to show her his phone, and looking down, Marinette can see the Target website pulled up. “There’s a Target a couple of blocks away from here that closes at 11:00. It’s only 9:30 right now so that gives us an hour and a half if you wanted to just get this done tonight.”

Marinette elects to ignore the chill that goes down her spine at having Tim speak so close to her ear.

“I don’t live too far from here, so I can grab the costume and sunglasses to meet you there at like 10:15ish?” she offers.

Nodding, Tim answers, “Perfect. I’ll text you the address. If you don’t mind, can I be the one to wear the banana suit? I, uh, would rather have my face covered. Honestly with my reputation I don’t think too many people would question it, but I’d rather not draw attention to myself at the moment.”

“Sure,” Marinette agrees. She’d done her fair share of research about Gotham before moving, so it hadn’t taken her long to realize Tim was pretty famous here in America. She wouldn’t bring it up because, quite frankly, she knows enough famous people at this point to not really care.

Turning back towards Skye, who is currently erasing the “Q#3” option from The Wheel of Punishments and writing “spin again” in its place, Marinette announces, “I’m gonna head out now Skye. We’ll probably be back to show you the video, “ she looks back over at Tim, “around elevenish?”

Tim gives a thumbs up, confirming, “Yeah, around 11:00.”

With that, Marinette says goodbye and heads back to her apartment. It’s not until she’s finally back home and staring at the closet with the banana suit that the full absurdity of the situation reaches her.

Tikki, who had been sitting idle in her purse, flies out. Giggling, she asks, “Having fun? You look a little shell shocked.”

Slowly running a hand down her face Marinette mumbles, “What even is my life…”

Floating higher to gently pat Marinette on the head, the kwami states, “It’s all a part of the universe trying to balance out the energy you emit. Having such prolonged contact with the Ladybug miraculous and being my holder has imbued you with my creation energy and good luck. So the world around you tends to be filled with chaos to balance out the luck you pour into whatever space you’re in.”

As Marinette sighs Tikki adds, laughing, “You also happen to be drawn to very chaotic people. Though I’m not sure if that’s a side effect or if it’s purely you.”

Thinking back to her earlier childhood and the mischief she, Nino, and Kim would get up to, she admits, defeated, “I think it’s just a me thing.”

Nudging her towards the closet Tikki urges, “Hurry up now, don’t want to keep Tim waiting.” There’s a knowing glint in the kwami’s eye as she says Tim’s name. Marinette thinks it’s best not to dwell on that particular detail.

Sifting through the things in the closet, Marinette finally finds the banana suit buried behind boxes of umbrellas which Adrien had also managed to ship to her apartment. 

Her relationship with Adrien has been a bit of a roller coaster. Eventually though, they realized both in and out of the suits, they preferred to stay just friends. After everything they’d been through, not even their identity reveal was enough to persuade either of them to pursue a romantic relationship with each other. Hell, even Alya and Nino admitted that they acted more like siblings than anything else.

The comfort from working as partners for so long, finally having revealed their identities, realizing they were already close friends out of the suit, and the fact any romance between them had effectively been thrown out the window had led to them confessing how they each came to fall for the other. And, consequently, un-fall for each other.

She almost smothered Adrien in pillows when he wouldn’t stop laughing at her for an umbrella being the cat -alyst for her past crush on him. He, even now, refused to let her live it down.

Smiling at the memories, Marinette pulls the banana suit out of the closet.

“And here it is in all its bright yellow glory,” she mused, looking over to Tikki.

Flying back towards her with sunglasses, Tikki laughs. “Ever think this would come in handy?”

Shaking her head and taking the sunglasses from Tikki, she replies, “Didn’t have the faintest clue. I swear though if Adrien finds out I actually needed this god awful costume for something I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Stuffing the sunglasses in her purse and folding up the suit as best she can, Marinette motions for her kwami to follow her. “Alright Tikki, let’s get going. I have a feeling this’ll be a long night.”

Twenty minutes later she finds herself in the mostly empty parking lot of her local Target. She’d sent a text to Tim letting him know she was there.

As she was absentmindedly drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Taking it out and glancing at the screen, she realized Tim was calling her. Raising her eyebrow, she hit the accept button and held the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she asks.

“Ok so,” Tim starts. The way he says the words has Marinette already feeling like face palming. “I’m here, but I realize we didn’t really think of the fact I still need to change into the banana suit. We could meet up at the cafe instead, have me change, and then we come back here, but that’s cutting it close to when Target closes… By any chance would your car have tinted windows?”

Tentatively, Marinette asks, “… You’re telling me your car doesn’t have tinted windows?” She made sure the disbelief was clear in her voice. Honestly, she’d thought one of Gotham’s well known elites would’ve taken more precautions.

“Well it does,” Tim says, and Marinette can already hear the unsaid ‘ but ’ in his sentence. “ But ! I didn’t really take my car here…”

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Marinette questions, “How did you get here then?”

“Motorcycle,” was his simple answer.

“Ah,” was all she said in reply. “Lucky for you that the car I’m leasing has tinted windows, then. I’m basically five rows away from the front of the Target. There aren’t any other cars around me so you should be able to find me pretty easily.”

“Yeah I think I see you. Your car’s dark grey, right?” Tim asks.

As Marinette tells him, “Yep,” she sees someone with Tim’s same outfit, hair, and build walking towards her car. “I think I see you too,” she tells him.

As the person takes a few more steps towards the car, Marinette can see it’s Tim and rolls down her window. “You can change in the back while I stand outside. The suit’s already in the second row, and I can give you the glasses when we get inside Target,” she says in lieu of greeting.

“Y’know,” Tim says as he climbs into the back seat, “you’re weirdly trusting to let someone you’ve known for less than a month be left alone in your car. “Not that I would do anything,” he adds hastily.

As she steps out of the car, Marinette smiles at him and says, “I tend to trust my intuition when it comes to people and their intentions. Something tells me you won’t steal or vandalize my car.”

Closing the door she bites back the unsaid part of that statement, which was, ‘One of the side effects of being the Guardian lets me see if people have harmful intentions through their aura, and you’re in the clear.’

When Tim steps out of the car Marinette chokes back a laugh. The suit, which had fit a previously teenage Banana Noir, looked laughably small on Tim. Tim wasn’t necessarily a very tall man, but it was obvious that the roughly 180 centimeters of him was far too big for a children’s costume. The yellow tights and the long sleeve undershirt were all but abandoned, presumably too tight for Tim to fit into.

Marinette had guessed as much, which is why she’d made a quick alteration on the gloves using the little time she’d had. Somehow they looked even more ridiculous as fingerless gloves.

Instead of the yellow tights, Tim wore his faded jeans, and instead of the undershirt, the sleeves of his white t-shirt could be seen. The rest of his arms were exposed, but Marinette elected to ignore that. She wasn’t sure she had enough self control to not switch from laughing at his ridiculousness to drooling at his muscles.

“How bad is it?” comes Tim’s muffled voice through the banana suit.

Still trying with all her will to not die on the spot from laughter, Marinette wheezes out, “It’s perfect.” Still smiling ear to ear and biting on her tongue to stop herself from losing it, Marinette pulls out the sunglasses and places it over the banana’s soulless, all seeing eyes.

Stepping back, Marinette doubles over in her attempt to not collapse into a laughing fit. “Oh my Gods,” she breathes out in a small voice.

“Ok, well while you have fun losing your shit over this, let’s head for the Target so I can take this potassium monstrosity off as soon as possible.” Gently pulling her along by the wrist, Tim drags a (still hysterical) Marinette towards the entrance of the store.

By the time they’ve walked through the door, Marinette has gathered herself enough to walk normally (though she would giggle every few seconds before slapping a hand over her mouth.

As they make their way towards the cereal aisle, Marinette is suddenly struck with a brilliant idea. “Tim,” she whispers, coming to a sudden stop and yanking on his arm so he does the same. He slowly turns around to face her and Marinette forces herself to look at his Converse instead to stop from bursting out laughing at the ridiculous banana face.

“I know exactly what song you can dance to,” she says mysteriously. She quickly tugs him the rest of the way to the cereal aisle (dutifully ignoring the bewildered stares of the other shoppers and various employees they pass) before depositing him in the middle of the aisle.

“Can I borrow your phone to record? I need mine to play the music,” Marinette asks. Wordlessly, Tim hands over his phone, already opened to the camera app, and Marinette takes a few steps back.

“Ok, just stand there and be ready,” she instructs. “As soon as I play the song you’ll know exactly what to do, don’t worry.”

Once she gets a muffled and confused, “Sure?” from Tim, she holds the phone vertically, makes sure the front facing camera is on, and hits record.

Making a show of holding her own phone next to her mouth with her other hand and visibly fending off laughter, Marinette says clearly, “Hey Siri, play the macarena-”

When the first note hits, Marinette flips the camera so it’s recording Tim. The phone speaker rings out, “Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena-” and Marinette can be heard manically laughing in the background as banana Tim dances to the song.

“Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena-” Tim continues to dance and the camera is visibly shaking as Marinette breaks down in a fit of laughter.

“Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena-” Tim’s movements are unnecessarily exaggerated and Marinette can still be heard maniacally cackling as the camera tilts, presumably because Marinette is leaning against the shelving of the cereal aisle to stay upright.

As the final line of the chorus rings out, “Hey Macarena, ay-” Tim sassily places both hands on his hips and slowly rotates them in a circle, still using exaggerated movement. 

Just before the song finishes, a random shopper from behind Marinette can be heard shouting, “GO WHITE BOY GO!” which leads to Tim, with one hand still on his hip and the other pointing at the stranger, exclaiming, “Thank you random citizen!” in an attempt to copy the voice of Metro Man from Megamind.

The video ends with Marinette crying laughing, having fallen on her knees, sinking to the floor.

Tim shakes his head in exasperation (or at least Marinette thinks that’s what he’s doing, it’s hard to tell with the suit on). But seeing as how the head of the banana suit doesn’t turn, all that happens is the whole banana body shaking.

This, of course, does not help Marinette’s laugh attack, and Tim is forced to hoist her up and be used as a human (banana?) crutch for her to lean against as they exit the target.

Once they make it to the car, Marinette, who is thankfully no longer hysterical, unlocks her car so Tim can change in the back seat. Thankfully by the time he emerges, she’s calmed down enough to only be smiling.

“I want you to send me that video, because I honest to gods don’t think anything else has ever made me laugh so hard ever. It’s probably partially from the lack of caffeine but oh my gods .”

She’s so glad Tim doesn’t seem the slightest bit off put that he's just done something most people would find mortifyingly embarrassing, or that she’s laughing her ass off at him. 

“Sure. On the condition that whatever crazy quest Skye sends us on next has you be the main focus,” Tim bargains, giving a teasing smile.

Smirking, Marinette says, “Easiest deal of my life. Meet you back at the coffee shop? I got a feeling Skye’s gonna get even more of a kick out of this than me.

Still smiling at her, he says, “See you there.”

Marinette really hopes Tim turned away fast enough to not see the blush that crept up her face after he smiled at her like that. If he looked at her so softly again she wasn’t sure she’d be able to muster up enough denial to ignore the beginnings of the feelings she was starting to have.

When they got back to the cafe and showed Skye the video, the barista took even longer to stop laughing than Marinette. 

It got to a point where the two were genuinely scared for Skye’s health, because when he heard ‘go white boy go’ he collapsed on the counter rasping out things along the lines of ‘can’t breath’ and ‘oh my god I’m gonna die’.

Once Skye recovered, the smile stayed on their face the rest of the night. “I want you to send me that video,” she said. “Also, congratulations you’ve passed the quest! The first ingredient hint is espresso shots.”

Marinette saw Tim’s eye twitch out of the corner of her eye. “We did that to get the hint espresso shots as an ingredient for one of your most caffeinated drinks ?!”

Raising an eyebrow Skye shrugged. “Hey man, you spun the wheel, that’s your fault. The hints are in a predetermined order, so that’s the hint you would’ve gotten regardless of what you were saddled with in order to earn it.”

Tim sighed as Marinette reiterated her sentiment from earlier in the night, “Never letting you spin the wheel again.”

Stealing one of the uneaten cookies from a display case, Skye says, “You guys only have tomorrow to show me your weekly attempt before things are reset, by the way. Once Sunday hits it restart the week, and you’ll have access to earn another hint and another attempt at showing me what you guys’ve created.”

Looking over at Tim, Marinette suggests, “Well, I don’t know about you but I don’t think I have enough general knowledge on the making of drinks or of the ingredient list to throw together an attempt.”

“I don’t think I do either,” Tim adds, “How about we reconvene on Sunday to see whatever ludicrous thing Skye plans for us to do to get a hint.”

Smiling tiredly, Marinette nods. “Sounds good to me. I’m gonna head home.” She says goodbye to Skye and Tim, then heads to her apartment.

Flying out of her purse once Marinette’s inside, Tikki giggles. “Quite an adventure today,” the kwami muses. 

“It certainly was-” Interrupted by the chime of her phone, Marinette pulls it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. It’s a message from Tim, with the video of him dancing in Target attached. Marinette snorts, screenshotting a frame in the video to set as Tim’s contact photo.

She takes another screenshot of Tim’s updated contact and sends it to him. ‘Would u believe me if i told u ur the second person to need to use that banana suit’ she texts to him.

‘ur jokling’ he replies. ‘wish i was, that thing is, as you so eloquently put it, “a potassium monstrosity”’ she sends back.

‘Idk i think i pulled it off’ Tim sends. Marinette laughs before sending, ‘no clue how u managed to do that tbh. but hey if u ever wanna model smth hmu. if u can pull off a banana suit i can only imagine how well ur modeling career would be’

Marinette could almost hear the smirk in his next text. ‘Oh so ur imagining me now r u?’ Marinette rolls her eyes before responding, ‘Oh, so ur getting cocky now, r u? If ur in my dreams it’ll be as a dancing banana, don’t get ahead of yourself’

Tim’s message after that made Marinette’s heart melt a bit, though she’d never tell him that. ‘Well i hope u have sweet ones’ ‘dreams that is’

‘gn my dancing banana’ she sent, smiling down at her phone.

‘gn coffee thief’

Marinette collapsed and was unconscious the second her head hit the pillow. She chalked the fact that she fell asleep so easily up to the overexertion from laughing so much and the general craziness of the day.

It definitely had nothing to do with the ball of content that sat comfortably in her stomach, which was warming her heart. And that content certainly had nothing to do with the unfairly attractive dancing banana she’d somehow found herself stuck with.

AN: Forgive my many spelling mistakes, I have the horrible tendency to only write for this fic in the dead of night. i have this fic on ao3, but I realized I never posted it to tumblr as more than a link. if you wanna keep up with it, but dont wanna subscribe to it on ao3, just ask to be added to the taglist either through this post or an ask to my blog and I'll keep you updated!

[ggomos-maribat]

The Assistant Poser

For the wonderful @miraculousmelodies

Tim was hanging by a thread. He forgot that his assistant was out for the day, so he had to do the legwork, the coffee-making and work sorting. While Tam did send an email saying she was bringing in a substitute, said substitute hadn't arrived yet, leaving him to deal with the work tornado.

He burst back into his office in fuzzy rabbit slippers, neglecting his misaligned tie and tousled hair that was attacked way too many times by his weaving fingers. The company was having a partner project with a fashion house and a meeting for it was set for that afternoon.

He cursed, remembering that he forgot an important post-it on Tam's desk and hurried back out. At that moment, he saw a short professionally-dressed woman coming towards him.

Tim sighed in relief. "You must be the assistant. Thank god you're here." He shoved the stack papers in her hands. "Have these sorted out A.S.A.P. and please get me a large cup of iced coffee---"

The woman blinked at him. "Wait---"

"Right! My order is a large caramel macchiato with one half soy milk, and one half whole milk, six and one quarter pumps of vanilla, caramel drizzled on top---"

"I don't think you---"

"But no caramel on the sides please. Those are so hard to reach sometimes. Oh, and add five shots of espresso, whipped cream on top and a sprinkle of cinnamon." He paused with a yawn. "Did you get all of that?"

His temporary assistant raised an eyebrow. "A large caramel macchiato with one half soy milk, one half whole milk, six and one quarter pumps of vanilla, caramel drizzled on top but not on the sides, five shots of espresso, whipped cream on top and a sprinkle of cinnamon."

"Also, please go over the files we'll be using for the meeting with Venus Fashions today and check if there's a typo because I cannot afford to embarrass myself and this company in front of their representative." He ushered her out for her to do her work. It was roughly four hours before their scheduled meeting and he still had to change.

Tim slumped on his office chair after he was finally alone. He mentally reminded himself not to work without an assistant ever again.

The woman came back no more than fifteen minutes after. She got his order perfect, down to a tee, and his sleep-deprived self couldn't be any more grateful. "I'm really sorry. I didn't get your name last time." He gave her a small smile.

"Umm . . . Marinette." She plopped down the sorted files on the edge of his desk. "By the way, there is a misspelling on the VF contract. 'Plait' is supposed to be 'plaid'."

"Oh, thanks for catching that. Can you shoot an email to the other staff to have them correct and reprint the documents?"

Marinette examined him for a minute before saying, "Sure thing."

"And errr, from your standpoint, do you think WE's offers are feasible?" Tim ran a hand through his hair for the hundredth time that day. "I'm scared Venus isn't going to accept. They're pretty picky with the companies they partner up with and . . . this is just a personal thing, okay? But I'm a huge fan of their products and scheme so I can't ruin this deal."

Marinette chuckled. "Don't worry. I think the contract will appease them. And this is Wayne Enterprises. Who are they to decline them?"

They went over more files before Marinette went out again to do work of her own. Tim stretched on his chair. She was a literal godsend to him---proficient and detail-oriented as an assistant. Maybe he could consider getting her an official position in WE when Tam comes back.

As his heavy-lidded eyes stared at the screen in front him, his gaze caught the email Tam sent in early that morning.

. . . inform you that I was not able to get you a substitute assistant so you will have to . . .

Not able to get . . . 

Tim practically leapt out of his seat, reading the words over and over again. Fuck! If Tam didn't get an assistant, then who . . .?

He dug into their files for Venus Fashions and prayed. He realized that Marinette's face was extremely familiar and he hoped that the reason why wasn't what he was thinking.

---

Marinette flipped through the pages inside the folder as they waited in the conference room. "Adrien? Do I look like an assistant?"

Adrien pushed his glasses up his nose. "No . . .? You look like the usual. I look more like an assistant." He gave her a pointed look. "But I told you your shoes are weird."

She scoffed, skimming through the contract again. After all those years, fate truly had done a whirlwind on her life. She thought she'd be living her childhood dream as a fashion designer, but instead, she got into modeling---gaining a massive interest in it---and became a shareholder and representative of Venus Fashions.

"Hey, I like my shoes," she retorted.

"Why? What did you do?"

"Me?" She grinned innocently. "I did nothing."

"No you did. I can tell." Adrien clicked his pen repeatedly. "You went to the cafe downstairs, ordered a drink that looked like it could poison you, and I never saw you drink it. And then you disappeared for like, an hour."

"Ehh, I'll tell you about it later."

Her gaze went into the walls of the room. The walls were electronically switched to be transparent at that moment. She could see the CEO Tim Drake visibly freaking out outside, with his employees trying to calm him down. He was dressed more appropriately compared to before, but his dark circles and messy hair stayed the same.

When he opened the door and saw her, he blanched right away.

Adrien stood up. "Mr. Drake. It's a pleasure to meet you." He shook hands with a silently panicking Tim. "Adrien Graham de Vanily. Assistant Representative in Venus Fashions. This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, our main representative and the project co-leader."

Tim smiled stiffly at her. "Ye---yes. It's nice to meet you both too."

Throughout the meeting, Marinette noticed Tim stammering over his words occasionally and sneaking worried glances at her. Adrien would also side-eye her, but it spoke of confusion and reproach instead.

Monsieur Drake's probably dying to apologize, Marinette thought. Truth be told, she didn't mind that mishap. It was quite amusing.

She sat back and watched Tim accidentally drop his laser pointer while the other WE staff stared helplessly. Her fingers drummed on top of her lap. I think I'll be looking forward to this project. 

Permanent Taglist: @the-coffee-fandom @tinybrie On AO3

[jayphoenic]

Maribat Masterlist 2

The Supreme Masterlist by @icerosecrystal

Masterlist by @neakco

Maribat Series Masterlist by @jinx-jade

Batman Rec Fic by @lurkinglurkerwholurks

Masterlist by @arty-shadow-morningstar

[person25]

so i’ve already talked about my feelings for daminette, now i thinks it’s time for the other maribat ship (that i’ve read for) (skip the first two ships if you actually want to read interesting words)

dick x marinette:

honestly, i haven’t read much and have only seen it where they knew each other in the circus. the least popular out of the (male) robins. i think it could be adorable if executed well but yk i haven’t really put my heart into it so i can’t say much.

tim x marinette:

definitely cute, both usually a mess, also addicted to coffee?? i mean whatever helps you through the day. i like the dynamic a lot. i feel like marinette would be most likely to get in a relationship with tim out of the others, based on what? what my brain tells me. they deserve to live happily ever after with each other. also don’t have much to say about them, i enjoy it👍

jason x marinette:

now this is where it gets interesting, jason and marinette would make a very good couple imo. balance each other out and all that. mari is always a badass in these which is definitely a slay. honestly these do everything right that i have a problem with in daminette fics, probably bc most people writing these have a stronger understanding of the characters than daminette writers (respectfully)

almost always talks about jason’s trauma aswell as marinettes which i personally want more of in daminette fics. more explicit fics than any of the other (i’m pretty sure anyways) so if that’s what you’re into, this is probably the one. also quite a bit of soulmate aus (again my fav if done right)

usually older than 20 so more mature and not in high school. high school is fine until you’re tired of it and don’t want to read it ever again, iykyk.

honestly my 2nd fav (as much as i tear daminette down it’ll always be #1 in my heart fr) they just have that special something the others don’t

other things about maribat as a whole i haven’t talked about yet:

i really don’t like when mari can beat any of the boys in a fight out of her suit unless it explicitly states how she’s so strong. these boys have been training their whole lives and i don’t think marinette could beat them with little training out of the suit. like don’t make her strong bc you want her to be strong do it to further the story or have a good explanation as to why

i may have said i don’t like salt but i definitely do, as long as it makes sense at least a little bit. i think any ship other than daminette (depends on the fic ofc) does salt well, honestly like adrien as a bestie more than an enabler but if you don’t like adrien definitely read a maribat salt fic

i have talked abt this but i’m gonna say it again bc it also happens with these ships, marinette does not have more trauma than any of these people and unless you specifically make it that way (which would take a lot of work and a lot of trauma considering what they’ve been through) i don’t like people writing it as if she does when the most they say she’s been through is losing a couple friends and them being slightly mean ( i am NOT talking abt when they physically harass/assault her)

another thing about daminette is that he has green eyes and a tanner complexion so they don’t look too alike but with the rest of the ships they look like siblings and it’s not a deal breaker or anything just a siblings or dating situation

things i’m willing to talk abt if you give me time to read fics:

bruce x marinette:

honestly never thought abt it but if i put enough will power in it i’ll read some, even if it’s a tad bit weird

maribat f/f ships:

i will 100% do this, i just need time to finish a tim x mari fic (i read for this post) bc while i can read multiple fics at a time k cannot read multiple maribats at a time and i’ll read some bc i love the idea just never got around to it

also i’m still new to (posting on) tumblr so bare with me🙏

@fallenkingsvale

[the-coffee-fandom]

Tim: Here you must be cold, take my cape *wraps around shoulders*

Marinette: *giggles* I’m actually pretty warm in my outfit

Tim: *awkwardly* oh… yes that’s right sorry…

Marinette: *sees his downcast expression and wraps it tighter around her* oh your right, I do notice the chill now that I’m nice and warm

Tim: *brightens up*

**walks in silence for a bit**

Marinette: *notices Tim shivering* I’m still cold, think I can have a hug?

Tim: *pauses before smiles and wraps his arm around her, the cape covering them both and Tim tucked nicely into the warmth of Marinette and her sheep costume*

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Have you never heard of such a thing, darling?

(The Timari Buzzfeed Unsolved AU)

Chapter 3: The Mysterious Case of Collège Françoise Dupont

The video opens, and everyone is almost blinded by the color pink.

The white room of all the previous videos is almost missed. There is something far more unsettling about this background. At least, with the all-white room, it is easy enough to get used to. White is a common furniture color and minimalism and/or modernism has become a thing in recent years, so it’s not entirely surprising to see. However, an all-pink room would take dedication. Especially since almost everything is the exact same shade.

A teenage girl is the one who sits in front of the camera, smiling. Cross-legged on a bed on the floor. While her smile is not creepily stiff like the one her friend usually gives, it is still offputting. Fond, but in a wistful way, as if she is in mourning.

And then she breaks, giggling and pulling a whiteboard out of seemingly nowhere.

On the whiteboard is the words ‘The Gotham Files with Tim Drake’ in black ink. A hand comes into frame this time to give her a pink whiteboard marker, and she scratches out Gotham in favor of the word Paris.

And then she smirks, hastily scratching out the name Tim Drake and replacing it with her own name, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

A person off-camera makes a vague sound of protest, and she sticks her tongue out at them for a moment.

Finally, though, she caves. In the bottom right corner, she writes something in tiny print. The camera zooms in to find the words ‘Also Tim, I guess’.

(The dreaded dubstep is still there, bouncing around in the background, but it is a faint echo of what it once was. Haunting the viewers, even from across the pond. Slowly increasing in volume. It is coming.)

Tim gives a huff of laughter and steps into frame, removing the whiteboard from view before carefully taking a seat beside her. “Hey, everyone, bet you didn’t think you’d see us together again so soon.”

“He has followed me to France. Send help,” Marinette deadpans.

Tim raises an eyebrow. “You do realize that you were the one that suggested I come visit to be ‘fair’ or whatever.”

“Details.”

He gives her a mildly exasperated look before turning to the camera. “Whatever. Let’s just skip to the school.”

“Oooooh, can we do a transition?” Marinette says, her eyes gleaming.

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Like?”

Marinette reaches towards the camera. “Like when a person goes to put their hand over the camera and –.”

Her voice cuts out the moment her hand covers the entirety of the frame.

She draws her hand back to reveal that they aren’t at her house anymore. Instead, they are standing in front of what appears to have once been a school building, though it hopefully isn’t being used as such anymore. Some of the windows are broken. What had clearly once been a beautiful courtyard has been overrun with plants.

The scenery is not the only thing that has changed, though. They, too, have changed.

As in... changed their clothes. From pajamas into what is almost formalwear. Tim is wearing what seems to be a suit, though his suit jacket is currently being used by Marinette to stave off the chill her sundress does not entirely shield her from.

Tim smiles at her. “So, Mari, since we’re in your country, do you want to explain the lore?”

Marinette sends him a playfully annoyed look before smiling. “Well, everyone, this is an abandoned school. It used to be a school for the rich and famous – and their kids – buuuut there was a scandal a few years back. His father, one of the teachers, is said to have…” she hesitates, briefly. “... well, it’s said that the body of Adrien Agreste is hidden somewhere on campus.”

“That’s probably not true,” Tim pitches in. “This place was torn apart by the French police and they found nothing. But the rumors made everyone withdraw their kids – and, more importantly – their funds. So, the building was forced to close. And yet the rumors remain.”

Marinette and Tim turned to look at the school building. It was only abandoned recently, so it looks much better than the other places they’ve visited so far. There is no reason why they should be scared of this place in comparison to the other ones. This one doesn’t look like it's nearly as much as a safety hazard as the ones before it.

And yet.

They hesitate at the threshold. Marinette tugs the suit jacket tighter around herself. The camera pans just slightly as Tim adjusts it in his hands, tightening his grip.

Maybe they weren’t quite as sure that they wouldn’t find a body as they had originally tried to make people believe.

Or not.

“Okay, obligatory moment of silence over,” Tim says. “Now, let’s go disrespect the dead!”

“It’s not disrespectful! At least… it’s not meant to be. Ghost marriage is meant to everyone a sense of…” She waves her hands around. Perhaps she is fighting off a ghost. Or, more likely, she’s just trying to recall a word. “Completion, I guess?”

He considers this. “Sure, but…”

“And it’s not like I’m actually going to be doing all of the proper rites or tying Adrien Agreste’s ghost to me,” she adds, smiling faintly. “I just thought it might be fun to give the guy a proper sendoff? I mean, we’re not going to find the body – I hope – or get his killer behind bars, but…” She shrugs. “It’s something.”

He lifts an arm and slings it over her shoulders, as always. “I think it sounds fun.”

Her hand shifts from her backpack strap, sliding up to lace her fingers with his. “It should be. But, uh, don’t tell my parents?”

“Mmmmmm… can I have some cookies later?”

“Sure.”

“Then sure,” he says, completely nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

They step into the building. As always, graffiti litters everything.

But that is hardly what they focus on. Desks and chairs are overturned at best, broken to pieces at worst. The floor, once elegant tile, had been smashed to pieces. The stairs in a stairwell they pass looks completely unusable. The police really had torn the place apart looking for a body.

But there isn’t one here. Neither Tim nor Marinette cringe and cover their noses, suggesting there is no corpse rotting beneath the floorboards, with only the beat of its telltale heart to give away its location. The only thing that happens is that Tim sneezes and mumbles bitterly about dust.

When he does, his breath fogs in front of him.

“Wicked,” Tim says, before immediately pretending to be a fire-breathing dragon. As you must do at least once upon realizing that it is cold enough to do so.

Marinette giggles at his antics, looking around, drawing Tim’s jacket tighter around herself. “I think the AC units here are broken.”

Not much of a surprise, considering everything else is.

“Yep. Guess the fans aren’t going to be getting a sleepover this time, either. Shame, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to convince you again.”

Marinette winks. “I’m sure you can think of a way.”

“I dunno. Youtube does not pay that well.”

She rolls her eyes. “We can do it next time, promise. But we have to get through this time, first, so we should hurry up before we get frostbite.”

They set up shop in the cafeteria, preparing incense to burn and setting a tiny doll down on one of the tables. The doll is hardly traditional. It's one of those little green army guys that come in packages of around a hundred. They had probably found it on the way there and picked it up. But it is still, technically, a doll. So it should be enough.

Briefly, as Tim pulls out a lighter, he pauses.

He looks around.

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“I…” His lips pull into a frown. “Dunno. Maybe the reason people think a body is here is that this place makes you go insane.”

“You're not going insane," she promises.

"... aw, thanks, Mari," he says, but his eyes are narrowed. Clearly he does not trust that she is being entirely genuine.

This is probably for the best, because she is smirking in that specific way she always does when she is about to gaslight him. "Tim, darling, the fact that you can see me is proof you’re already insane. I don’t exist.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, gently knocking his shoulder against hers. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Potential gas leak aside, let’s marry you to a dead guy!”

Marinette pumps her fist in the air. Who cares about a potential gas leak? It’s wedding time!

They burn incense, first. Marinette explains that it's supposed to strengthen the spirit. She does not seem all that worried about this fact, so she either does not believe that this particular ghost exists or she genuinely had character development in the previous video and no longer believes in ghosts. It’s a tossup, really.

Either way, Marinette walks down the ‘aisle’ (a gap between tables), holding the leftover incense rods like a really ugly bouquet.

She gets to the end and smiles at Tim, trading the ‘bouquet’ for a pair of dice that have been shoddily taped over so that the sides alternate between saying ‘no’ and ‘yes’.

“Now,” says Tim, looking at his phone. It is playing music, but it is clear that that is not what he is currently paying attention to. “Throw your ‘blocks’ and let’s see if the lucky groom wants to continue with the ceremony.”

She rolls the dice, and seems mildly surprised when both dice land on ‘yes’. There was a one-in-four chance of that happening, so it wasn’t statistically irregular or anything, but humans like to ascribe meaning where there is none.

Perhaps that is why they believe in ghosts.

Marinette grins. “Cool. The ghost is into me. Think I can get a dowry out of it?”

“Isn’t your family the one that’s supposed to provide the dowry?”

She snickers. “I mean, maybe traditionally, but I’m wearing the pants in this relationship.”

Marinette is wearing a dress.

Tim looks like he wants to point this out, but decides not to. He clears his throat.

“Bow to… Heaven and Earth?” Tim says, unsurely.

Marinette turns so she is no longer facing them and does a brief bow.

“Bow to your elders – actually, they're not here, so skip that one…”

She snickers as she turns slightly to the left and bows, presumably towards where her home is.

Tim grins. “Alright, now bow to each other.”

Marinette bowed to the doll.

It fell over, almost as if in response.

She blinks, and then smiles bemusedly. “Well, it fell forward. Maybe it was trying to bow. I’m gonna consider that close enough.”

“As your priest, I agree, that was clear intent,” Tim says, nodding ‘seriously’. And then he smiles widely. “And so, by the power vested in me by… literally no one, I’m not even part of this religion… I now pronounce you ghost-groom and wife.”

Marinette kneels to pick up the tiny soldier, gently placing it back on its feet.

Good. Wedding over. Now for the part of wedding days that people actually like:

The after party!

They begin to lay out some Tupperware containers, filled with different kinds of sandwiches.

Tim practically dives to get his hands on the box of macarons. Technically they, too, are sandwiches. Sandwiches of the unhealthy variety, but sandwiches nonetheless.

Marinette is a little healthier. Perhaps because her parents are, supposedly, somewhere in the city with her, and therefore she can get in trouble for eating dessert without an entree first. She washes down her grilled cheese sandwiches with tea. If she is at all bitter about not getting any macarons, she is hiding it like a champ.

The toy soldier gets tuna sandwiches, assumedly because neither of them wants to eat them.

Marinette cradles her thermos of tea in her hands, smiling faintly. She opens her mouth to say something to Tim.

The video cuts to later.

It’s clear they spent quite a lot of time there. Their noses are pink from the cold, and several sandwiches and macarons have been eaten.

Including a tuna sandwich or two, judging by the slight shift in the way they’re arranged in the box.

One of them must have given in and eaten them after all.

That was the past, though. Now, they are cleaning up after themselves. It is not entirely necessary, the building is abandoned, after all, it isn’t like anyone would be inconvenienced if they didn’t... but they are good kids, so they ignore this fact.

“Can’t believe you eat with your mouth open, Mari,” Tim says.

Marinette sends him a confused little frown. “What? No, I don’t?”

“Yes, you do. I’ve cut all proof of you not doing that out of the video. You will forever be known among my fans as someone who eats with their mouth open.”

Realization dawns on her face.

She groans.

“Remind me why I hang out with you?” she says, shoving Tupperware back into her backpack with maybe a little more force than was strictly necessary.

“My dashing good looks.”

“I would never agree to such things in front of my husband,” she sniffs, setting the toy soldier delicately in her jacket pocket. Not Tim’s jacket pocket, because it is clear by now that he is never getting it back. Her jacket pocket. Just like the toy soldier is her husband, now, meaning she is unable to adulterize. "I am loyal, you know."

Tim considers this for a moment, stashing away the leftover incense and lighter, and then shouldering the bag. He seems to be thinking hard about his good qualities.

He finally decides on one:

“Theeeeeeen… because I stalked you to France?”

A strange choice, but it works.

“True. Thanks for reminding me,” she says, giggling, her eyes lighting up at the acceptance of her dumb bit from earlier.

They head out, back in the halls, only to pause.

Because a shadow shifts.

Their smiles drop immediately in favor of wary expressions. Even if they don’t believe there are ghosts here, there was still a very real chance of finding raccoons and opossums and other things that carry rabies.

Hesitantly, Tim points a flashlight at the shadow.

It is a cat.

They were right about the thing that could carry rabies thing.

Though it doesn’t seem this cat has it. It does not seem like it is intent on attacking them. Nor is it running away. It blinks lazily at them.

They both relax, almost imperceptibly.

The cat is tiny, but seems well cared for. It is probably a housecat that got away recently, or perhaps an outdoor cat. This is dangerous, considering it’s a black cat, and black cats are not entirely safe to let out into the world, since people are superstitious and sucky...

However, it does not have a collar.

Strange.

Who has been feeding it?

Whatever.

At least that means the cat is Free Real Estate.

Marinette coos and kneels in front of it. The cat doesn’t seem to mind, its tail flicking lazily, seemingly watching her with the same kind of curiosity.

It isn’t scared, isn’t hissing. Hasn’t even bothered to stand. It is just… meeting her gaze.

“Well, aren’t you the cutest little thing,” Marinette says, lifting her hand to pet it.

Tim puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks, if only momentarily. “It could have a disease.”

“That is a risk I am willing to take,” she says, without hesitation.

He sighs, but there is something fond lining his eyes as he shrugs and squats down next to her. “So, are you taking him home?”

“If it doesn’t hate me, yes, absolutely,” she says, lifting her hand again and letting the cat sniff it.

The cat gives a quiet meow and, finally, stands up, if only so it can step forward and rub against her hand.

“The cat has chosen,” Tim intones in the most grave voice he can muster. Which is to say, not very grave at all. It is hard to sound serious while looking longingly at a cat.

He was so visibly desperate that the cat almost seems to laugh, looping around Marinette one more time before coming to rub up against his leg.

Marinette looks like she might cry over the sheer adorableness. She starts cooing in French. There is a caption box at the bottom of the screen, but it is hard to tell if it is genuinely what she is saying. The words, while all technically words, surely should not be strung together in that particular order.

(Maybe they shouldn't have ignored the gas leak thing from earlier.)

The cat, being a cat, does not seem the slightest bit put off by the possibly insane babbling, only taking in Marinette’s soft tone and Tim’s hand scratching beneath his chin, and deciding that, yes, these are his humans.

“I shall name you…” Marinette squints. “You are a boy. So. Plagg.”

Tim looks as if he is not sure which part of that particular statement was worse. That she has simply decided that the cat is a boy without checking, or that she has decided that Plagg is a good name for a boy (or a girl, or… anything at all, really).

“We are not naming him Plagg,” he complains, tipping his head back in a groan. And then he looks at the cat again when it bunts against his hand. He coos. “How about Adrien? You know, the Jewish faith says that the dead live on when you name people after them. Might as well honor him, since we are trespassing in his… domain, or whatever it is people think this is.”

Marinette looks affronted. “You suck, you know. I can’t believe you’re using the religion card to overrule my decisions. You’re such a fake feminist…”

He sticks his tongue out at her playfully.

But, according to a short clip of the pair of them both calling the cat to them with their chosen names, the cat preferred the name ‘Adrien’.

Tim smirks, hugging the cat – Adrien – to his chest. The cat rubs himself against him.

Marinette sighs and crawls over defeatedly. To her delight, the cat squirms out of Tim’s grip and into her lap. She brightens up immediately. “Well,” she says, more for the sake of the audience than anything. “Still no sign of the supernatural, but at least we got this cute little cat.”

Said cat meows as if in agreement.

When she scratches it behind the ear, its head briefly turns towards the camera to lean into her touch, and its eyes seem to glow.

Camera flares really are a pain.

Either way, the two humans are entirely unaware of the mistake, for they are unable to see the footage as it is being made, and therefore continue on as normal.

Marinette leans against his shoulder, sighing. “When you go back to America, I’m keeping him.”

Despite the clear attempt to keep her tone light, there is still a wistful edge. It is not hard to imagine that losing a friend and a cat at the same time would be hard.

Especially since Tim seems to be thinking along the same lines: “Hey! I named him!”

“Exactly! You named him! Therefore I get to have him!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

She sticks her tongue out at him.

He huffs. “Great argument.”

“Well, if I actually tried that would just be unfair, you know,” she says.

“Oh yeah?” he raises an eyebrow in challenge, sure she is bluffing.

But then she leans closer to his face, smiling. “Paris to New Jersey is an eight-hour flight, minimum. You wouldn’t put him through that. Therefore, I win.”

Tim, for the briefest of moments, doesn’t react. His eyes have widened just slightly at the sudden closeness, and his face turns a delicate shade of pink. He inches his face away from hers the slightest bit. He swallows thickly and quickly averts his gaze.

Even the damn cat seems to have a knowing look on its face.

Not that he was being particularly subtle, to be fair. You don’t travel across the world on a whim for just anyone.

Still, even the cat?

He groans, turning his head away to bury his face in his hands.

She giggles and presses further against his side, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder, her eyelashes batting playfully.

“I win,” she says.

He grumbles incoherently.

“Besides, we found him in Paris. This is my city, therefore he is mine.”

“That’s not fair,” he says. And then something seems to occur to him. He turns to look at her, their noses just barely brushing. Red begins to dust itself across her cheeks as well. “I found you in Gotham, though. That’s my city. Does that make you mine?”

For a moment, Marinette hesitates.

And then she turns her head away, back toward the camera, smiling.

“The shippers are going to have a damn field day.”

He laughs and goes back to playing with their new cat. “Well, since you’re a married woman now, maybe they’ll chill out.”

Marinette snickers. “They will not.”

“Not at all. Now it’s a forbidden romance.” He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Lean towards me like you’re gonna kiss me for the outro?”

Marinette, briefly, tips her head back in a laugh. And then she looks at him, something sly in her expression. She takes his face in both hands and leans in –.

The scene pauses in the moment when their lips seem to meet. A future version of Tim, probably greenscreened in, appears, his head perfectly covering where their lips might actually be touching, if the way his past self’s eyes are wide in surprise means anything.

People replay the video several times, and eventually come to the realization that Marinette’s hands are placed carefully in a way that almost hides the way her thumbs keep their lips from actually touching.

Disappointing, but not particularly surprising, considering they had all but said they were going to fake it for the camera.

Viewers finally allow the rest of the video to play.

It is a Honey sponsorship.

As one, they groan and close out of the video.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

[sarcasticbambi]

Even Rich People Deal With Late Shipping Sometimes

Something is off with Tim's Coffee™ and he just doesn't know what it is.

HMB Bingo Board "Did You Put Something In My Coffee?" + Fluff

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

RIIIIIIIING!

“Ughhhh”

“Whyyy?”

Every day was the same thing. The alarm had been ringing for the past 30 minutes. Only one of them woke him up, the rest just served to annoy him so he’d get up and start getting ready.

“Come on honey, you have that meeting with the board today that you can’t miss.”

“I can never miss any meetings anyways; it doesn’t matter if it’s with the board or not...”

Marinette has to admit, it didn’t matter his age, Timothy Drake-Wayne always managed to look cute when pouting. Maybe it was because it was so uncharacteristic of him that made it so endearing and needed to be saved as a precious memory.

“Yes, I’m aware. And I’m sorry for that, but you were the one intent in inheriting the company, so you kind of have yourself to blame for that.”

Insert Tim Drake-Wayne pouty  glare.

“Alright, alright! Hahah, if it’s of any comfort, Bruce and Damian also have to be there for today’s meeting?”

“Really? That’s certainly better than dealing with those old snobs alone! I won’t be miserable by myself!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen any family relish in others' misery as much as you guys…”

“I’m sorry honey, but you already know how it is with them, eat or be eaten!”

“Yes, yes Tim. Now go and wash up, I’ll start on breakfast.”

—-------------------

Just like she’d told him, Marinette went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, only to come into a block she never thought they’d ever stumble upon.

Where’s the coffee?????

Marinette’s caffeine deprived brain was struggling to comprehend why she couldn’t find the coffee. It should be in the exact same place as always! The second cabinet in the top left corner!

She ended up looking everywhere and, by the time Tim was out of the shower and started getting ready for the day, she had turned the kitchen upside down and there was still no sign of the damned coffee grounds.

With some help from Tikki (Marinette swears she’d never get anything done if it wasn’t for the tiny Kwami), she ended up calming down enough to process her thoughts for what could possibly have happened to their precious godsent beverage. 

Turns out, they had actually run out and, a simple look at the calendar in the fridge and she could tell they were supposed to get their latest shipment two days earlier. Opening the shipment tracking app, she found out that they missed on ordering the previous month for extra stock (like usual) and ended up only getting the regular monthly shipping, which had actually been delayed because of some sort of storm and, since the storm still prevailed in the area, all flights had been delayed and/or cancelled depending on their destinations. And guess what, North America was one of those destinations that were “Cancelled Until Further Notice”.

NOW WHAT???

Marinette was so close to pulling her hair out from the stress. How was she and her boyfriend supposed to survive their lack of proper coffee “Until Further Notice”???

Turning around the stove to turn off the kettle of boiling water, she happened to land her blue eyes in the container pushed almost all the way to the back of the cabinet and, if there’s one thing Marinette is, is curious.

Curiosity killed the cat.

So, she grabbed the container to find out it was instant coffee from one of the times Connor had been over and commented on how their coffee was too much trouble to prepare in the morning “with all those boring and time-consuming steps”, so he ended up getting himself a bottle of instant coffee from the store.

Curiosity did kill the cat, but satisfaction brought it back!

She had hit Jackpot! 

It was no special roast carefully observed to reach the perfect level of bitterness along with the exceptional flavouring and meticulously packed and shipped at the appropriate storage temperatures to maintain all the properties farmers worked so hard for while also keeping it fresh when it reached their front door and, eventually, ended in their perfect mugs.

So, with the determination to still get some kind, ANY kind of caffeine in their systems that day, Marinette set out to make instant coffee for what was probably the first time in her life.

By the time Tim came out of the room, fresh and almost ready to start a new day, she had accomplished the feat of making a cup of instant coffee for the two of them, along with a couple of pastries to accompany.

She just had completely forgotten the fact that Timothy Drake-Wayne had never, in his entire life, had anything other than the best and highest quality of coffee specifically imported from tropical countries to quench his thirst for the blessing that was caffeine. 

And, when Tim saw the slight mess that was the counter, and the anxious look on Marinette’s face, he knew something was up. Marinette may be clumsy, but her kitchen was never a mess. It was a sacred place for her after all.

He decided to shrug it off, she was often stressed about something, maybe she’d just gotten a message from one of her clients that left her out of sorts for a hot second. The rest looked perfectly normal anyways, so there was really no reason to be worried.

That was what he thought, at least, until he took a sip of his coffee.

It took everything in him not to just spit it out, simply out of respect for Marinette who had gone through the trouble of making it.

When he looked at her, she was looking right back at him through the rim of her own mug.

“Mari?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you put something in my coffee?”

“No?”

“Why do you sound unsure?”

“TeChNicAlLy. I didn’t put anything in our coffee…”

“Technically?”

“Yes! You see, APPARENTLY, there’s been an issue with our coffee shipment this month and we hadn’t stocked up last month and now we’re out of beans and “UnTiL fUrThEr NoTicE” we won’t have anything and then I found the bottle of instant coffee Kon got last time he slept over and that was our only other resource and I just couldn’t let you go to that boring meeting without caffeine lest I wanted you to snap at someone for breathing and I also needed some sort of pick me up and-”

“Marinette, honey. Breathe. In and Out.”

Repeating his actions and instructions, Marinette managed to somehow calm down from the anxious stream of words coming out of her lips in the usual Marinette Ramble™.

“It’s ok, it happens to everyone. I guess even with all the prime and premium subscriptions, even billionaires have to deal with late shipping sometimes.” 

“But... your coffee?”

“It’s fine Bean, I was just asking because the taste felt off and I wondered if in your sleepy state, you could have missed a step or let it sit for too long and it saturated the flavour. To be honest, you could have just told me, and we’d order something to go from the cafe shop nearby and then get something better fitting for our tastes at the company. You know they are kind of required to always have a coffee fix for us if they want us to work properly, so we should be fine for the next 30min until we get there dear.”

“Ah, that’s right... I’m so used to taking my own tumbler of coffee that I tend to forget about the company cafe unless it’s an emergency” Marinette would have facepalmed if Tim wasn’t already holding her wrists and, having her so close to him only gave her the option to drop her forehead on his shoulder. His hands immediately dropped her wrists to fall on her waist in a hug.

“We could even ask for a bag from the storage until our shipment arrives. Or, you know, we could always drop by the Manor. I’m certain that Alfred has a storage room dedicated only for our coffee in case of emergencies like this, so you don’t need to stress so much over it.”

“You’re right! I didn’t even think of that! I honestly don’t know how you’re so calm. I thought you’d be the one skirmishing over this, not the other way around.”

“Because, if I’m not calm then there’s no one to help you calm down and then we’d both be a mess and would not be able to do anything.” the chuckle that left his lips should have been somehow offending, but Marinette settled to just snuggle up to him for a bit more before getting ready for the day, now with the reassurance that they’d still get their coffee fix for the day and that the shipment delay wouldn’t affect them as she thought it would.

15 minutes later and they were both out of the house, the instant coffee now cold and long since forgotten on the dining table, the rest of the pastries arranged with some fruit and cheese for the Kwamis to maintain themselves while the couple was out.

Notes:

[folk-ever-lore]

Coffee Confusion

for @the-alice-of-hearts

Marinette fiddled with her hands nervously as she headed up the barista taking her order. "Hi, l have the strongest coffee you can give me please?"

The barista nodded politely and asked, "Okay, that'll be a Double Extra Shot Cappuccino. Can I have a name for the order please?"

"Sure, I'm Marinette," she told them cheerily, quickly paying for her order and getting out of the way.

As she stood at the other side of the room, waiting for her order time seemed to slow down; each second lasting a minute. She was on way too tight a schedule to have time for a wait this long. Maybe risking getting the drink was a mistake, but she'd been up way too late to work on her pitch for this meeting to be able to stay awake without it.

Today was super important - she had a meeting with Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Industries, to discuss a partnership with them and her company, MDC. She couldn't afford to miss it, let alone fall asleep during it. That would give completely the wrong impression.

An order announcement brought her out of her thoughts. "I've got a Double Extra Shot Cappuccino."

She moved forward to collect her drink, her hand brushing against it right before it was taken from her grasps by a man who looked around her age.

"Hey," she exclaimed. "That's mine."

He shook his head, "I don't think so. I ordered a Double Extra Shot Cappuccino and I got here and ordered before you, therefore it must be mine."

"You don't look like you need a coffee that strong," she muttered.

"And neither do you but here we are."

"Why don't we ask them who it was for, they do take names for a reason," she offered.

When they did ask, Marinette soon found out that it had been for someone named Tim. "Oops, sorry," she said apologetically. "I'd really been hoping it was mine since I've got a meeting soon that I need to stay awake for."

Tim smirked, "Me too actually. Who's your's with?"

She grinned, "You'd never believe me."

"Try me."

"Wayne Industries. How about you?"

"I think actually my meeting may be with you. You're MDC, I presume?"

"Yes actually, how'd you know?"

He held out a hand for her to shake, "Tim Drake, nice to meet you."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she returned with a smile.

[ggomomomo]

Pledge Myself to You

Cross posted in AO3 Inspired by Episode 2 of Spy x Family

Marinette leaned against the window of the shop, slightly bouncing on her heels as she checked her wristwatch again. It was fifteen minutes past their agreed meeting time. There was no sign of Tim. Not even a call or message. 

She sighed internally, pulling her coat closer. It happened so quickly—she found a single father in a boutique she frequented and they decided to fake date because of their circumstances. For him, it was for the sake of his child’s schooling. For her, it was because of her brother (and the inevitable need to protect her identity and continue her job). 

In hindsight, it was absurd. They barely even knew each other. But Marinette chose to trust him and went ahead and told everyone she’d be coming with her boyfriend. She had a creeping feeling that it was going to backfire on her. She did not like said feeling. 

“I hope he’s okay,” she whispered to no one in particular. “What if something happened to him?” 

She peered at both ends of the street and continued waiting.

---

“FUCK!” 

Explosions boomed throughout the entire warehouse, followed by an onslaught of gunshots. Red Robin scrambled to get the door, holding it open for Red Hood, who carried the stolen goods out. “Timmy, you dragged me into a death trap!” Hood barked out, pulling out his own guns. 

Red Robin jumped at one of his assailants. “No.” Kick. “Names.” Punch. “On.” Jab. “The.” Dodge. “Field.” Strike. “Jay!” 

Curse the agency’s shortage of spies. He just had to be dragged into another mission to steal back jewelry. On the same day he had to go to the promised party with Marinette!  He was lucky Jason agreed to go with him, or else the task would be a hundred times more inconvenient. 

He glued himself near the entrance, waiting for the goons to come out as Red Hood started the van. His jaw clenched. Thirty-eight of them inside . . . I have less than ten seconds to deal with each. As soon as they popped out, he began, tackling them one by one and picking up discarded weapons. He glared at the van where Jason was comfortably waiting, not even bothering to help him. 

When he finished, he made a mad dash towards the vehicle. 

“I’m so late,” he hissed, frantically removing his cowl. He took one of the suitcases to check if the contents were intact.

Meanwhile, Jason sped through the highway. “It’s your own fault for taking this job.” 

Tim held up a necklace to eye level. “It’s not my fault I’m the best one they have.” 

Jason clicked his tongue. “Show-off.” He madly swerved to the side. “I get a cut, right?” 

“Pick whatever you want.” Tim slammed the case shut after taking a nice diamond ring. “I get this one.” 

---

Marinette shivered. How long has it been? Forty-five minutes? An hour? 

“So this is what it feels like to be stood up,” she mumbled. 

She just had to suck it up and tell Adrien she was still a single, lonely office woman who definitely didn’t have a suspicious side job.  Her worry sprouted from the frequent arrests of the police. If she didn’t have a convincing fallback, she’d end up in trouble and make her brother fuss over her again. 

She walked languidly, wondering if she could skip out on the party instead. But if she did, her coworkers would just gossip about her more often. Plus, she had the gift prepared. Marinette heaved out a sigh, straightened her dress, and headed to the venue. 

Lila greeted her first when she arrived. “Marinette! You’re late!” 

“Sorry, I got held up.” Marinette grimaced and gave her the gift bag. 

“I thought you were bringing your boyfriend.” Alya raised an eyebrow. 

“Ah, um he had an emergency . . .” 

“That’s too bad! I wanted to meet him.” 

She settled on a chair in the corner as the girls whispered among themselves. They’re probably saying I made it all up. Her shoulders slumped. Which, technically, isn’t wrong. 

The party was warm and lively, but she was barely familiar with any of the people. She was a stranger amongst them, a functioning adult who couldn’t fit into the norms of society. She folded her hands neatly on her lap. 

“Hey, Mari!” Nino approached her, handing her a glass of punch. “I was hoping to meet your boyfriend tonight.” 

Marinette forced out a smile. “He got too busy tonight, sorry.” 

“Adrien’s been asking about you, you know,” he relayed. 

She fiddled with her thumbs. “Can—can you tell him I brought a nice guy?” 

“You can’t do that, Mari, you know how Adrien gets really concerned about you!” Alya stepped in. “I’ll make sure he personally gets the news. You can’t just lie to him, he’s your brother!” 

Marinette’s gaze lowered. Why do they have to involve themselves? 

Maybe . . . maybe if I killed everyone here I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. 

She blinked. No! Bad Marinette! 

Nino nervously steered Alya away. “We’ll get out of your hair, Mari. Thanks for coming!” 

Adrien would want me to live a ‘normal’ life. But I can’t let go of something I’ve known for years. Her hands clenched into fists. Maybe it’s better if I leave . . . I have nothing to do here anyway. 

She stood up abruptly. “Excuse me—” 

The door slammed open, revealing a disheveled Tim who had a bloodied head. Scratches littered his hands and face, along with some dirt marks. Marinette gasped as the guests gaped at him. 

Tim swayed a bit as he spoke. “Sorry I’m late! I’m Marinette’s husband, Tim Drake!” 

“Boyfriend, not husband,” Marinette corrected in a whisper. She took out a handkerchief to clean his face. 

“Oh god, I forgot about that,” Tim winced. 

“You okay, man?” A wide-eyed Nino walked over to them. 

“Yup, nothing to worry about!” Tim chirped. “It’s just a client who got a bit aggressive, that’s all. It’s pretty normal in my line of work.” He turned to Marinette. “Are you doing okay?”

Doing okay?! You should ask that to yourself! Marinette’s lips parted. 

“No way! You’re married?” Lila stared at both of them. “We never knew about that, Mari.” 

Marinette could see her livid face reddening and her teeth grinding together. Before she could explain, Lila struck again with her saccharine tone. “Does he know about your late night trips to hotels?” She sneered. “You giving ‘special massages’ to your clients?” 

Marinette bit her lip. Those were my targets! 

Something flashed in Tim’s eyes before he went back to his cheery demeanor. “Mari told me about that already! I think it's admirable.” 

“What?” Lila’s nostrils flared. 

“She worked hard to support her adoptive brother. It’s brave of her to step up after their parents died and she took care of both of them all by herself.” Tim beamed. “So I think it’s pretty amazing.” 

Marinette’s cheeks flushed. “We—we should get going, Tim. It’s pretty late.” 

---

Tim felt embarrassed to bring a creaky van to bring Marinette home but he had no choice. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind and looked more relieved to get out of the stuffy party. 

“Sorry about the husband thing,” he blurted out. 

“It’s fine,” said Marinette. “Umm, you were still out of it.” 

At the side mirror, he caught a glimpse of a car racing after them. His eyes narrowed. Shit, did they follow us? A tracker in the jewelry? 

The car hit them in the back. “Mari, hold on, okay?” Tim turned the car, pressing hard on the gas pedal. 

“What—what was that?” Marinette turned to look at the back. 

“Uhhh, just those clients!” he laughed uneasily. “Looks like they’re not yet satisfied with the deal.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Is that okay?” 

“We’ll just have to give in to the chase.” 

He parked the van into a corner and they both hopped out to sneak into an alley. There can’t be a lot of them,  right? He took Marinette’s hand and led her into another street. God, I shouldn’t have let Jason leave early. 

He picked up a stray metal bar as they ran. Her hand’s really soft—no, it’s not the time to think about that! 

“Does this happen often?” she quizzed, keeping up with his pace. 

“Not that often,” he explained, “Er—you see, sometimes they do that as a test, like an extra criterion in the business deal.” He stopped and struck two of the men who cornered them, rendering them both unconscious. 

“It’s a special transaction of sorts.” They zipped into another path. “And it’s worked wonders in our projects.” 

“So that’s how it is,” she said thoughtfully. “That’s interesting.” 

Tim fought off another attacker. He pushed the body away but when he looked up, another was leaping towards him. He sidestepped to dodge, but Marinette got a clean kick on the guy, causing him to roll across the cement. 

Marinette’s hands flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I interrupted your transaction.” 

Tim smiled, feeling a tug of pride in his chest. “No worries. Thank you. Outside help is always welcomed.” 

He took her hand again and they fled the scene. That’s a handful of them. There better not be more. I need to think of a way to get rid of them all at once. Gunshots rang out this time. 

“Tim . . .” 

He looked back at her. 

“Do—do you want to get married for real?” 

He immediately stumbled, tensing at her words. Marinette rambled. “It’s—it’s just that we already told everyone, and we—we can at least make it official for the school interview and all. Also, I’m still worried about the cops coming after me. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay! I understand! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place—” 

“Mari!” He cut her off, skidding to a stop and holding both her hands. “I’ll be happy to marry you.” 

She stopped. “Re–really?” 

He nodded. “I was planning to bring it up anyway . . .” 

He dug through his pocket. Fuck, where did the ring go?  

“Let’s go get our papers done later,” he offered. 

“Later?” 

“Better than to delay it, right?” 

Tim cursed, hearing voices yelling at them. While they ducked behind a wall for cover, he picked up a fallen grenade from one of the unconscious bodies and bit off its pin before tossing it towards the gunmen. 

“In sickness and in health . . .” Tim recited, hoping he’d get the vows right. 

The grenade flew up in the air. 

“. . . in sorrow and joy . . .” 

He slid the pin ring into her finger. 

“. . . No matter what kind of trouble we run into . . .” 

The blast rattled everything around them, sweeping a wind through their clothes and igniting a blast against the bleak night. But nevermind all of that. Tim was only lost in her eyes and pinkish cheeks. He could hear the pounding of his heart over the explosion. 

“. . . I pledge myself to you.” 

[mae-dwrites]

All I Need To See - Ao3

The moonlight filtered through from between the cloth curtains, and the light showed the dust floating in the dark room. The light crashing of the waves made the boat rock the slightest bit over and over, back and forth. The space was filled with the sweet smell of recent baking and black coffee.

Tim kicked off his boots once he had made it down the stairs and leaned against the counter with a tired smile. There sat two cups, one empty but with the stain of whatever coffee wouldn’t leave the mug. The second one was full of plain black coffee that was barely warm, next to it was sugar and creamer next to it.

Tim put the empty mug in the sink, put the sugar in the cupboard, and put the creamer back in the fridge. On the row below were a tupperware of some sort of bars and a cake in a container he didn’t remember having. He picked the sticky note from the tupperware.

Made some cappuccino swirl bars for the morning and that chocolate mousse you liked. Also coffee if you needed! Didn’t know if you wanted plain or sugary this night.

Tim shut the fridge, lightly rubbing the little heart on the corner of the note. He made his way over the selves before their room and picked up the book under his camera, flipping it open to the closest blank page. Those would be all gone very soon, the thought wasn’t exactly a sentence but a vague idea his mind couldn’t quite put together, but he liked it.

He stuck the sticky note on the page, rubbing it down on the top to make sure it stayed. He closed the book setting it aside and took his camera out of its case. He crouched down by just a few inches to level himself with the cup, he moved the setting without much thought other than the goal of taking the perfect photo.

He straightened his back looking at the photo, squinting but nodding finding it perfect. He’d be sure to get some pictures of what she’d made in the mourning after he’d rested. Tim put his camera away and got to get ready for bed.

After showering and changing he looked at the coffee again, and he pushed it closer to the wall. He’d drink it in the morning, even if it was cold.

He opened the door to see Marinette asleep, her hair sprawled out, one of her legs crossing his side of the bed, and one hand resting on his pillow. His sleepy eyes softened at the sight of her, it reminded him of the time she’d convinced him to go swimming. She’d let her hair loose and kept dragging him in just so she could splash him with water over and over.

They’d chased each other with sand and looked for little pods to see sea life. He’d taken some of his favorite photos that day, but the best moments he didn’t capture. The best he could get was holding them in his memory for as long as his mind would allow.

He sighed contently before carefully situating himself in the bed. He moved her hand gently closer to her face and slid under the blanket, he was attentive in the way he brought his legs next to her.

His hand was light on her face as he brushed the hair that had slowly started to fall on her unconscious face. He watched as the strands passed through his fingers. His heart tightened remembering running his hands through her hair after a fight. She’d been mad about him being reckless, too selfless, how she couldn’t handle that.

Tim swallowed at the memory, blinked rapidly, and let his hand rest on her cheek. In this lighting they were invisible, but he could place each and every freckle that went across her face. His hand slowly went down her jaw to the scar that never should have happened. A scar he’d apologized for a million times for not preventing, and every time she would hold his face and tell him there were worse things to endure.

His fingers dragged across her jaw to her chin, and let his thumb stop on her bottom lip. Tim yawned, his eyes watering as they almost screwed shut, he felt her lip move under his thumb. When he opened his eyes bright ones looked at him fondly, and were joined by a small smile on her lips.

Tim’s breath caught as she gently took his hand from her chin and brought his fingers to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

Marinette didn’t have to say anything, and neither did Tim. Every action conveyed so much more than they could possibly try to explain.

Marinette let their hands rest between them, her eyes were so tired but she’d chosen to stay up for him. He was right in front of her, and that’s exactly what she’d been waiting for. She let her eyes fall shut with the peace of knowing Tim was home.

Tim kissed her hairline and let his forehead rest on hers.

Neither of them could really bring themselves to care about anything outside of that boat, as they both fell asleep with soft snores.

[calico-kiwi]

The Coffee Trials

Chapter 1: a sleep deprived coffee addict walks into a cafe

Fandom: Maribat (Miraculous Ladybug x DC)

Tags: Tim Drake/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Original Character, fluff & Shenanigans, no plot & no update schedule

Work Summary: Both Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are incredibly successful and busy people. Two people who both view coffee as their lifeblood. When they find themselves needing each other to obtain ultimate coffee rights at their favorite cafe, two total strangers become allies. And friends. And perhaps eventually… something more.

Chapter Summary: Tim walks into his favorite cafe to find things are not as they should be.

ao3 Link, Next Chapter

Read the first chapter below the Keep Reading!

Tim loved this smell. He worshiped it. It was so ingrained into his soul that he could describe it as no way other than divine. Well, perhaps he could describe it as heavenly. Sweet ambrosia. Nectar of the gods. 

Yet above all, it was simply... lovely.

It was the smell of a reliable constant. It smelled like home. Not because home smelled like it but because the smell elicited that feeling of home.

As he approached his favorite café, his body began to ease. Not only was the café itself his favorite, but it had his favorite drink. And truth be told, his favorite coffee dealer, and dare he say personal barista. (And yes, it was quite a dare to say such a thing, because if Tim ever outright called them his personal barista, they’d cut him off.)

The bell above the door softly chimed as he entered. He was instantly treated by the smell of coffee and the warm welcoming energy of the café. 

He dragged his eyes over the faded and chipped walls painted in a warm cappuccino brown. He didn’t need to look at the black chalkboard menu hung on the wall behind the registers. He could say his order in his sleep.

His eyes wandered to the various seating areas and tables within the café. It was a hodgepodge of all colors, styles, and decorum. Almost like a lost and found. Though all were in good condition and seemed to just fit . 

He briefly took note of a new face. She was sitting on the old leather couch in the corner to the right of the registers.

Continuing to walk towards the register, he felt himself smirk. Looking very bored, holding their head in one hand and aimlessly drumming their fingers against the counter with their other, was the man of the (the being Tim’s) hour.

Tim’s very own coffee dealer and personal barista. 

The glitter of the barista’s night sky-themed ballerina nails sparkled as she tapped them against the counter, and they didn’t seem to notice Tim until he was almost at the register.

When she did notice, however, her bored expression turned almost sinister with the way she smiled and the way her eyes twinkled. They straightened their posture and moved to be more centered behind the register.

Something about their “cat who’s caught the canary” expression and current mischievous demeanor planted a seed of dread in Tim’s stomach.

“Why hello and welcome to ‘Carrie’s’ valued customer. May I take your order?” they said. They twirled a strand of the dyed white hair that was loose from their high ponytail around their finger. It was a faux attempt to look innocent and they both knew it. 

Tim narrowed his eyes and replied, “Same as always Skye.”

Skye’s shit-eating grin grew wider, and her hand dropped so she could place them both on the counter and coyly lean forward.

“Sorry,” they apologized, though it held no hint of remorse. “Just to be clear, what drink would be the one ‘ same as always ’?”

Tim was silent for a moment. ‘Oh something’s definitely off here,’ Tim thought to himself.

“The one only you know how to make, and that I order every night, and have been ordering every night for almost two years.”

“Yes, but what is the drink called? So I know I have the right one,” Skye said cheerily.

Tim didn’t have enough drugs (caffeine, he’s talking about caffeine) in his system for this. “It’s not actually on the menu, which you would know because it’s a-“ Tim makes air quotes as he continues. “Skye SpecialTM”

“We always refer to it as ‘The Motherload’ though. Which is cringe as fuck and we should change it, by the way.” Tim looks at Skye expectantly.

And Skye stares back at Tim as if they’ve won.

“Well,” Skye starts, “what exactly is in this drink? To jog my memory,” she says, absently waving one of his hands in the air.

Tim sighs, and all but bangs his head against the counter. He instead settles for burying his head in his palms. “You are so fucking lucky I refuse to piss you off in fear of you revoking coffee privileges.”

Skye laughed. “Damn right! Don’t ever call my Skye SpecialsTM cringe ever again you fucking oaf.”

Continuing, Tim adds, “Also how the fuck am I supposed to know what you put in your goddamn magic energy potion? I don’t even know how you can make the shit you do and not have any illegal ingredients.”

Skye raises an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume what I make doesn’t have illegal ingredients.”

“ Skye .” Tim says incredulously, his frazzled and strained voice matching the slight look of panic in his sky-blue eyes.

“Hey don’t worry dude, I swear I’m not running some Breaking Bad type operation. Besides, we live in Gotham, this is one of the worst possible places to get into drugs. No shot I’m chancing anything.”

Tim just sighs before once again asking for his beloved drink. He really doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with this.

“Skye, darling, one of my favorite and most gender people ever, I fucking BEG of you, serve me the fucking drink. The one that tastes like heaven and grants me godly energy.”

Skye gives a devilish grin. “Oh!” they exclaim. “ That drink! Well, why didn’t you say so.”

Tim actually bangs his forehead against the counter, and Skye laughs at her friend's misery.

“ ~Skyyyeee~ ” comes Tim’s grumble, muffled by the cold countertop he’s still smushing his face against.

Skye giggles, and ruffles her friend’s wavy black hair. “Gosh, you’re so dramatic. And stand up, you’re gonna get drool on the counter or something. Can’t make drinks if I'm stuck cleaning up, now can I?” they ask with a raised eyebrow

With that, Tim lifts his head off the counter, but immediately follows the action by propping his elbows on it and clasping his hands together.

“ Please just make the damn drink,” Tim begs.

Skye shrugs. “Sorry sweetie, we’re out.”

“ WHAT?! ”

Tim’s mind breaks a bit, and Skye holds back the snort that almost comes out at the sight of Tim’s eye twitching.

“Skye,-“ Tim begins, sounding like he’s bargaining for his life back, which in Tim’s eyes, he is. 

“How in the actual fuck is that possible? How can you be out ? You only allow one Skye SpecialTM per shift. And even if , and that’s a big if, another customer ordered one, who else other than the two of us would you possibly be ok giving that much caffeine to?”

Skye, who had stood calmly and patiently listening to Tim’s spiel, which she always finds quite endearing (the crazed and deranged look in his eyes added a nice touch) just smiles. 

There’s no malice in it this time. But Tim’s known Skye long enough and well enough to see the brewings of a chaotic plan spread plainly across their face.

“You see my little lovely bean addict, I have found a new regular. Not only that but she’s already passed The Coffee Trials.”

At the last piece of news, Tim’s eyes widened.

“She completed The Trials,” Skye continues, voice dropping to a whisper, “In 10 days.”

Tim’s jaw drops. “How long has she been coming to the cafe?” he whispers back urgently.

“Well,” Skye begins, “she stopped by once around two months ago. Came back around a week later, and her visits became more frequent until she started coming every other day. She just passed The Coffee Trials five days ago, so she passed ‘em last Saturday.”

Narrowing his eyes Tim asks, “If she’s a regular, when does she stop by? You only work from eight to one, and I don’t get here much later than you do. I mean kudos to her if she gets here after I leave but…”

Hopping onto the counter so her legs dangle over the side and she’s sitting facing Tim, Skye nods sagely.

“The first time she came here, and I remember this interaction vividly cause it was so wonderfully chaotic, she burst into the cafe panting with only 15 minutes before my shift ended.

This, of course, did not phase me, and I asked her what she’d like to order as if a beautiful french woman running into this establishment at 12:45 a.m. entirely out of breath with a tiredness so obviously bones deep and soul-crushing that I offered her a free pastry was normal.

She apologized for basically barreling through the doors before sheepishly explaining this was the closest place open that served coffee and wasn’t someplace like Mcdonald's. 

She knew we closed at one, which is why she was in such a hurry. She then apologized to me a second time for bothering me so close to when we closed.

I would have been annoyed, but I was too amused and charmed to find it in me. So I told her no worries, made her order, and gave her a free croissant with her coffee. 

She told me it was some of the best coffee she’s ever had, thanked me, apologized a third and final time for the night, offered to help clean and close up, which I refused, and then left.

She must have found herself in a similar situation to the first night she visited where she desperately needed coffee because around a week later, she stopped by around 12:30ish.

She asked for something else, I gave the poor tired sweetie a free toasted bagel with strawberry cream cheese, and she once again complimented the coffee, thanked me, and left.

This continued for a bit until she just came by pretty often, each time around midnight, and we hung out a bit. She ordered something new every time, which I liked. You know how I love to experiment.

I told her that I was a bit of a hobby mixologist and thought mixology was cool, and that because I can’t drink yet I instead have honed my mixology skills in the art of coffees and teas. She then asked what some of the craziest concoctions I’ve made have been.

At this point, I’ve known her for around two months, and I’ve been seeing her super often. I know enough about her to feel comfortable around her, and so I trust her with the sacred information  that is The Coffee Trials and Skye SpecialsTM.

She is, predictably, thoroughly intrigued. And also concerned. Because you know as well as I do that it is definitely not a legal amount of caffeine that I put in those drinks. Like I could not serve those to customers. Make for the homies? Hell yeah. To sell? I am breaking the law and can be sued. I do not have the money to be sued, man.

Anyways, she asks if she can partake in The Coffee Trials, and I oblige. It’s mostly to humor her and let me tell you, I did not expect her to succeed so fast. She beat it as fast as you did. Which is to say, the fastest I will allow anyone to beat it.

I’m not trying to overdose people here man. In case you don’t remember, during the coffee trials there is a rest period between stages, and the attemptee is cut off three days before, during the trial, besides the drink you’d need to ingest to pass each stage, and three days after.

She does the trial no problem. Like, scarily without any problems. She now has access to the Skye SpecialsTM. Oh, and, she’s drinking The Motherload right now.”

Tim would’ve spat out his drink if someone else hadn’t beat him to ordering it. “She was already here ?!”

Skye hums while they swing their legs back and forth. “Actually, as if it isn’t already information overload, she’s still here. The little missy is sitting right over there,” they say, jutting out their chin in the direction of the ‘new customer’ Tim had seen sitting in the corner on the sofa when he walked in.

“You should go talk to her. Go say hi to the pretty lady. Try your best to not screw it up and all that. I think you two would get along swell,” Skye encourages with a smile.

Tim tries his best to not stare at the stranger (who has become much less of a stranger to him in the past few minutes) quietly sipping her coffee (which should be his coffee) and typing something out on her laptop and then switching to a sketchbook that she furiously sketches in before repeating the cycle.

“What do I even say,” Tim asks exasperated. “Besides, how do I fix the fact I no longer have my preferred amount of caffeine or favorite drink.”

Skye raises an eyebrow before scoffing. “Ok, mister antisocial-” They’re interrupted by a muttered ‘says fucking you of all people’ from Tim. “FAIR BUT UNCALLED FOR. Anyways, I was going to say that I have a proposition.”

Trying his best to hold in yet another sigh, Tim continues. “ But ? There’s always a catch with you, you chaos gremlin.”

“Says fucking you of all people. You’re the most chaotic chaos gremlin I know. And the catch is that I’ll only tell the two of you, yes the two of you, if you’re the one to bring her over here so I can explain.”

Tim scowls, and starts grumbling while walking over to  ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶p̶e̶t̶i̶t̶i̶o̶n̶  the stranger before Skye grabs his shirt collar and yanks him back towards her, whisper-yelling a rushed ‘wait!’.

“Do you want a drink first? You can still order from our normal menu, you know.”

“I feel like whatever shenanigans you’ve got in store for us is going to make me want to bash my head into the wall, so maybe just some nice hot tea. That has the caffeine of course. Some earl grey how I like it?”

Skye salutes before swinging their legs back over the counter, hopping down with a, “You got it boss!”

They press a few buttons on the order screen before announcing, “That’ll be $4.96 oh valued customer who we treasure very dearly.”

Tim rolls his eyes but hands Skye a five-dollar bill, telling her, “Don’t worry about the four cents,” and stuffs another ten in the tip jar that’s sitting in front of the register.

Skye’s eyes soften, and Tim hears a whispered “Thanks,” before they put the bill in the register and head off to make Tim’s tea.

Tim looks back over at the woman on the sofa. She’s still lost in her own world. Her hair reaches a quarter down her back and is the most dazzling shade of black he’s ever seen. It’s almost as if it glows a faint blue. It’s a little hard to tell from the way she’s sitting, but Tim guesses she’s a few inches over five feet. She has a small but impressively lean build, and no he is not staring at her biceps.

It’s not until he feels something hit his face that he looks away from the stranger and focuses his gaze on the balled-up napkin that had been thrown at him and then fallen to the floor.

“Your drink good sir,” Skye says. She holds out a to-go cup with the label of a tea bag dangling out of the cup but held in place by the lid.

For what feels like the millionth time tonight Tim sighs. He grabs his drink, mutters a quick thanks, and walks toward the mystery girl. He hears a whispered ‘Knock ‘em dead tiger!’ followed by snickering from Skye but just ignores it.

It’s not until he’s standing in front of the stranger, her beautiful bluebell eyes staring up at him, that his brain finally processes what he’s doing. ‘I can’t believe this,’ Tim thinks to himself.

Running on enough caffeine to give doctors a likely cause of death if he were to keel over right then and there, and with less than 5 hours of sleep in the past several days, Tim figures he has nothing to lose.

So after a few seconds of awkward silence where the woman in front of him seems very confused and concerned, Tim spoke. “Um, hey, sorry to disturb you but there’s something I kind of need to talk to you about. Mind if I sit?”

> Next Chapter

AN: Forgive my many spelling mistakes, I have the horrible tendency to only write for this fic in the dead of night. i have this fic on ao3, but I realized I never posted it to tumblr as more than a link. if you wanna keep up with it, but dont wanna subscribe to it on ao3, just ask to be added to the taglist either through this post or an ask to my blog and I'll keep you updated!

[miracle-sham]

Of a Sinking Severed Heart—Bleeding 'Til the End.

| {MGI Team Mixer Event Alphabet Soup Drabble — Letter P} |

| {Blue, Sapphire, I Want To Go Home To My Wife, Soulmates} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Link] |

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| Dragons with soulmates were always said to have hearts made of the purest gemstones. Inevitably this led to them being hunted or captured for the wealth they could grant upon their death. |

| But sometimes, the reason for capturing one is far worse. |

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| Word Count: 1,029. |

| Warnings/Tags: Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, implied/referenced torture, implied/referenced non consensual drug use, blood and injury, angst, hurt/no comfort, grief/mourning, non-graphic non-consensual body modification/amputation, dragon Tim Drake, dragon Marinette, and soulmates. |

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| A/N: Here's the last fic of the event, finally cross-posted to Tumblr! |

| Please make sure to read those tags carefully before reading! But if you're able to handle that sort of content then I hope you enjoy! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. |

———

 This couldn't be it, this couldn't be the end. Not here, not now, not for her.

 Tim was helpless to do anything but watch from beyond the sickly green wrought iron cage—poisoned spikes on both the inside and outside of the bars to prevent any attempts at escape.

 Not that it stopped him, mind you. But all that brought him was mocking laughter, a cursed amulet preventing him from shifting back to his human form, clipped wings, horns cut, snout muzzled, sapphire scales torn and patchy—making it hurt to move, talons declawed—phalanges removed so they wouldn't ever grow back, and a cocktail of drugs fogging his mind and torpefying his body, all to keep him from being able to break out on his own.

 Marinette was his precious loving soulmate, she's a part of his hoard as much as he is of hers. Their hearts beat in sync. He could feel the distant frenetic desperate pulse of her heart tethered to him, completely in time to his equally pounding heart despite the distance between them. He could also feel the stinging scratches and scrapes on her hands and knees on his own, the deep ache in her muscles and bones in his, the flaring stabs across her torso and shoulders with every movement she makes in his as well, just as if those were his injuries instead of hers alone.

 She could probably feel the numb agony of the undoubtedly permanent damage done to him in this cage. How she was still able to keep going, keep fighting, with the pain slowly killing him—them—, was beyond him.

 That was how their soulbond worked, an eye for an eye, a heart for a heart, a soul for a soul, pain for pain. Bearing what the other is taking, sharing the burden of their suffering.

 A blessing and a curse, always being able to tell whether your soulmate was hiding injuries or overworking themselves to the detriment of their body. It was… it was probably a relief for her, in the time after his capture—to know the Joker's been keeping him alive.

 Marinette's heartbeat stuttered as the fight drew away from the cage and out of his sight. Heart in his throat, Tim barely holds back a desperate keel. He can't afford to distract her now—

 Electricity, surging through his body. Lancing pain whiting his vision out.

 He could barely hear her screams through the crackling around him. No, no, no, no—please.

 Maniacal laughter rang out clearly above the thundering of their shared heartbeat and the sizzling searing of electrical burns tearing through their bodies.

 And oh, oh…

  Oh no.

 If he thought the electricity was bad enough, then the five pinpricks of pain in the centre of his chest shouldn't have been noticeable.

 But it was. And brutally so. His chest. Ruptured open. Tearing and shredding apart like something was being ripped out. Or well, not his chest. But Marinette's.

 Throat constricting, he could barely breathe. The pain was so consuming. He couldn't tell if the struggle he had breathing was his or hers, or both of theirs.

 His, apparently.

 Seeing as Tim could feel it.

 The very moment his soulmate's—Marinette's—heart ceased to beat.

 That gaping agony rupturing and rending through his chest and sternum—right through to where their hearts lay in each of their chests—was painting a clear enough guess of what was happening—had happened. To her.

 “No!” He barely rasped under the restraining muzzle. Please survive! He wanted to beg her, please hold on just a little bit longer! The others must be near soon…

 The tether snapped. The bond shattered.

 “Plea—” Tears leaked from his eyes, stinging the small sore scaleless patches of skin as they dripped down his cheeks.

 The pain of her injuries faded as her heartbeat's absence grew longer.

 The Joker skipped back into view from within the wretched cage, a blue crystalline heart of a dragon, bleeding and unbeating in his hands. “Would you look at this! A pure of heart sapphire!”

 Bursting into cackles at his own words, the Joker barrelled over, grin sickeningly wide.

 The breath caught in Tim's throat.

 It… it should have killed him too. He should be dead.

 “NOOO!” He rasped again, throat bleeding from the strain. Clutching at his chest, overcome, he desperately wailed for his other half. Don't leave me! He wanted to cry out to all that remained of her, please, how am I supposed to live without you?

 His wail was cut off sharply with a wet cough. Choking on the blood from his throat as the muzzle kept him from taking any deeper breaths. 

An emptiness—hollowness, settled inside his heart. As the lonesome silence, barring the incessant laughter, persisted.

 What else? He thought to himself deadeningly—despondently, what else am I supposed to do? Without you here?

 The Joker straightened up and sneered at Tim. “Awww, aren't you having fun?”

 “No,” Tim whispered under his breath, closing his eyes and using what little strength he had left to curl up into a ball, covering himself with his clipped wings. “I just want to go home to my wife, my soulmate…”

 “Well let's fix that then! They do say laughter is the best medicine!” The Joker crowed, dropping the heart on the ground before moving out of sight once again. Followed by a chuff and a hiss of liquid gas spraying from a machine.

 Tim flinched. Expecting the worst.

  The machine exploded. The cage rocked crashing over—freeing him.

 The sounds of gunfire and batarangs reached his ears but Tim only had eyes for Marinette. Disconsolate, he slowly crawled to her and her heart with everything he had left. Fragilely, he scooped her sapphire heart up in his claws and cradled it against his chest fruitlessly, as if the proximity to his own heart would somehow breathe life back into hers. Once he reached her body, he bowed his head and let the tears spill from his eyes.

 This couldn't be it, this couldn't be the end. Not here, not now, not for her. But it was. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

 His heartbeat felt lonely.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this short fic! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are much appreciated! |

| And if you liked this, don’t forget to check out my teammate’s works as well! |

[ggomos-maribat]

Maid for Each Other

For @tinybrie ❤ Happy birthday!

Tim had already noticed her before the reception. She looked beautiful in her pink bridesmaid dress, not quite upstaging the two grooms but striking enough to a head-turner. She was leaning against the refreshments table, watching the guests play around and dance to the semi-upbeat music.

He diverted his own attention to his brother and new brother-in-law. Jason and Roy were laughing together, clumsily swaying to the rhythm as they chatted with other guests from time to time. Jason wore a deep red tuxedo with golden patterns at the collar and cuffs. Meanwhile, Roy was in white, complementing his spouse with the colorful accents on his outfit.

Dick and Kory were stuck in a slow dance, seemingly lost in each other. Bruce—no, Brucie—was with Selina, who might or might not have stolen his watch for the fiftieth time. Even Kon, Cassie, and Bart were talking in their own bubble.

Tim placed his glass down. Okay. Might as well talk to her.

He sidled up to the girl awkwardly. She has freckles! Adorable freckles!  He didn't recognize her from anywhere, but then again, there were a lot of unfamiliar people in the crowd. He remembered her speaking with both Jason and Roy before the wedding, and surmised that she must be close with the latter.

He cleared his throat. "So, how do you know Roy?"

She perked up. "Roy? I didn't know him until during the wedding preps."

"Oh, sorry." He didn't know Jason could be affiliated with her. "Jason then?"

A small smile played on her lips. "Just met him too."

Then why are you at the wedding? "Umm . . . should I call the cops?"

She giggled. Giggled. It was a pleasant sound. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Professional bridesmaid at your service."

His eyebrows shot up. "Professional bridesmaid?"

"It's an obscure job, I know." She sipped from her drink. "Jay and Roy hired me through . . . interesting events. We made a deal and they got me to be one of the bridesmaids. Or groomsmaid? Whichever. I helped plan the wedding and I designed their suits."

No wonder their outfits look so high-end, Tim mused. "Are you allowed to say that to the wedding guests?"

"Not the guests, but the family is fine," she replied, blue eyes sparkling, "Mr. Tim Drake."

She's good. She's really good. Tim had seen how natural she was when dealing with the wedding setups and choosing for Jason and Roy. It was like she was their longtime friend already. If she'd been a detective, she'd be solving a hundred cases a minute.

"May I ask how you met the grooms?" Tim braved another step towards her. Marinette blushed.

"Found them in the alleys late at night. Roy was limping, and Jason was losing a lot of blood. I helped them out, and they mentioned marriage, so I volunteered myself. It was all a blur from there."

Tim arched a brow. "In the alleys?"

"Yes, I know about that, and your entire family." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But don't worry, I won't tell. I also have a secret or two of my own."

Tim gaped. How perfect can this woman be? Gorgeous, a fashion designer, good-natured, friendly and is connected to the superhero business?

"Do you usually offer random strangers your bridesmaid services?"

"Not usually. That was a special case." Her lips curled into a playful pout. "I've got other jobs too. Stuntwoman, bike courier, videogame tester, bounty hunter."

She must've seen his frown since she added: "It's not much of an issue with money or anything. I just enjoy the different environments. I got to meet interesting people."

"I hope I'm one of those interesting people."

She smirked. "You are definitely interesting."

Tim gulped. And he was definitely in deep trouble. "I'm—I'm honored?"

Marinette threw her head back with laughter. "It's also an honor to talk with you, Monsieur Red Robin. I have to admit, I was hesitant to approach you at first."

Now that he thought about it, Tim realized that she had had long conversations with every member of the family (even Damian) except for him. "Why, did I do something wrong?"

"Hmm." She swirled her drink. "Jay told me not to come near you. I think it was just him being overprotective, since he knows you're my type."

Her type?! She's single! Tim could've fallen to his knees to thank the heavens. Instead, he threw a glare at the oblivious Jason, who was a shot away from being completely drunk.

"Are you serious? I'm your type?"

She nodded meekly. "Unless . . . I'm getting the wrong message and we're not actually flirting right now?"

"No! I—" He blanked out completely. After a few seconds, he pulled back his composure. "I'd be happy to see you again after this."

She put a hand on her chest. "I'm glad. That could've gone really horribly and I'd never show my face to Jay and Roy ever again."

Tim laughed a little. She's cute. Too cute.

Loud cheers and whoops erupted from the other corner of the room. Jason was dragging Roy to one of the stands with balloons hung up. Tim immediately knew what was coming. Instead of a bouquet toss, Roy was going to shoot an arrow at one of the balloons to reveal a slip of paper bearing the name of a lucky unmarried guest. It was one of Marinette's ideas too, along with the vigilante-themed cake and literature classics-inspired vows (at the behest of Jason, of course).

Roy stumbled a bit as he aimed the arrow. "I'm going for it!"

The other guests shouted in anticipation. The arrow zipped through the air and pierced a balloon, pinning down a thin piece of paper to the wall. Jason took the paper himself to read the name.

His face fell. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

All heads turned towards Marinette. Marinette herself did a double take, almost spilling her wine. "I didn't know my name was in there," she mumbled.

Tim turned to her, smiling. "So, do you get to be a professional bride as well?"

Taglist: @the-coffee-fandom

On AO3

[jayphoenic]

Masterlist of Reccomendations

I've compiled all of my posts here for easy access (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

A Bunch of Masterlists

Miraculous Ladybug

Maribat

DCU

Marvel

My Hero Academia

Harry Potter

Supernatural

Teen Wolf

Hannibal

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

What If (Original) Series

If I can take some of your time for this, I have some fics that I don't remember the title or where I read, but I would very much like to read them again.

Searching For A Fic. Help?

[mumblesplash]

Hello, I was wondering if I could have permission to write a story based around your drawing of Jason Todd giving his jacket to a young girl, please?

ofc! answer to this question is p much always yes

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

Just want to share my favorite Maribat stories' links. :) :) :)

Yes. Because I am in that phase again lol

If you are the author, let it be known that you are awesome!

1) Taking Chances by Undercover_fangirl - This is a biodad Bruce Wayne story. Mari gets sent to Gotham thanks to an Akuma, and voila - you have a dad and a chaotic set of siblings!

2) for us to collide by LadyLiterature - This is a Daminette story which I love love love love!! And the dynamic of the Miraculous team? AMAZING.

3) Stalker X Stalker by oliviaandersonisntmyrealnamelol - This is Timinette story. Caffeine deprived coffee addicts + kwami unapproved stalking tendencies = hilarious chaos XD

4) No, Mr. Wayne, You Can't Adopt Me! by ggomoz - This is a Marinette as Bruce Wayne's secretary fanfic. It is chaos and very good if you wanna laugh out loud!! XD They have no idea she's MDC and has miraculous powers. They wanna adopt. Damian wants her in the fam, but not by adoption.

P.S. If you know any more hidden gems, please for the love of us, feel very free to reblog and add it to the list. If it's an old fic in AO3, I probably have read it but add it anyway. And if you know any new awesome fanfic, then do tag me. I would love you for it. Thank youuu!!!!