“Bloody machine stupide,” Marinette hissed as she not quite slammed her phone down on the countertop in disgust. If she could strangle a phone, she would. She had to consciously, painfully, force her hands not to curl like she was strangling an imaginary neck. She was in public. There were quite a few people in the café with her, some, like the man next to her, were extremely sexy, and she did not need sexy people giving her those kinds of looks. She wanted them to give her a different kind of looks. The kinds of looks you don’t give insane people.
Clearly, playing Wordle while waiting for her chronically late friend to arrive for their coffee catch up was the worst mistake she'd made since... the night before… and a few hours before that… and a few hours before that. The occurrence and frequency of her mistakes was not the point. The point was this word was clearly some obscure word long forgotten in the English language. An arcane word. Arcane! See, she knew English. Despite what this pretentious game indicated.
She looked around her quickly, just in case her friend had appeared quietly and she had a completely innocent excuse to put the phone away, though the likelihood of her friend doing anything quietly was exceptionally unlikely. Unfortunately, there was no excuse to cling to. But what there was, was the sexy man, who had been there since shortly after she arrived, scrolling on some app.
She could ask him… it would be an excuse to speak with him… but the excuse would be that she’s an idiot, and that was not exactly how she wanted to start a potential relationship. She already had to fight against people thinking she was an airhead because she was a female and in fashion, she didn’t need to add this in.
She glared intently at the phone as if the power of her stare could force the letters to appear before her eyes. However, after several minutes of giving the phone her best intimidating stare, the answer had the audacity of not appearing to her. But she was not going to let this inanimate object defeat her.
She heaved a frustrated sigh and turned toward the man next to her. “Excuse me,” she started curtly, too frustrated to ask in a more flirty manner. This was about answers, not dates.
The man looked up immediately, eye wide with surprise. His eyes flashed brightly and his lips lifted in a hint of a smile for a few seconds before he shook his head and furrowed his brows in confusion remembering her previous tone. “Um, yes?”
“I swear I’m not dumb,” she promised. She softened her tone, or at least tried, it ended up coming out only slightly softer because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t restrain her frustration and shove it down.
“Okay…” he answered, brows furrowing even deeper at her statement. “I didn’t mean to imply you were?”
“No, not you, this!” She groaned and shoved her phone in his face. “I’m absolutely stuck, and I swear I’m not as stupid as this is making me feel.”
He blinked at the phone taking in the game, five guesses in, a good amount of letters eliminated, two letters confirmed, and one letter in place. He whistled lowly. “High stakes.”
“Right!” she exclaimed throwing her hands out in exasperation, nearly dropping the phone. “Almost all of the consonants have been eliminated and the ones left don’t make any sense.” She glowered at her phone, trying again to intimidate it into revealing its secrets, missing the amused smile that spread on his lips. “This is so frustrating. It’s making me feel stupid. I’m not stupid! I can think of at least 10 words off the top of my head that would work in French.”
“Maybe they have a French version?” he offered.
“They do! And I kill it in that one.” She pouted at the phone. “I look like I don’t even know English. I’m fluent, damnit!”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry. My brother can’t do it to save his life, and English is his native language. He won’t even try anymore.”
She looked over at him, her eyes wide and pleading. “Do you have any ideas? … please,” she tacked on quickly.
He was so lost in her eyes, it took him a few seconds to register what she said and compose himself. “Isn't that cheating?” he teased.
Marinette gasped in exaggerated horror. “NO! It's...” she took in a breath and let it out, staring at nothing as she worked to come up with a response. “It’s utilizing my environmental resources,” she finally settled on with a decisive nod.
He burst out laughing and adjusted in his seat so he could lean closer to her. “That sounds like military speak for cheating.”
“Well, I'm not military,” she scoffed with a smile, “so it's just an accurate description the situation.”
“Right,” he nodded, his lips split in a massive smile. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” she agreed. She met his gaze for a few breaths then redirected her eyes to her phone. “But what isn’t obvious, is the answer to this.”
He watched her for another moment then looked at her phone. “Right. Okay. There’s an e and a u…the n is in the middle. No t, no s, no l, no r…”
She suddenly perked up. “How about ‘hinge’?” Her eyes searched the letters at the bottom to confirm it would work.
He searched the letters as well, nodding more rapidly the longer he looked. “That could work,” he agreed.
“Okay,” she nodded with determination. “Let’s do this. Wish us luck.” He nodded back and edged closer to her so he could watch her phone over her shoulder. She entered it and grasped her phone so tightly, her knuckles turned white before tapping Enter. The letters shook for a second but did not turn green. Instead, the word ‘ENNUI’ flashed at the top of the screen.
“What. The. Hell?” she growled, enunciating each word harshly. “That’s not English! That’s French! That’s a French word!” She had been staring at the letters for a few seconds before she was brought out of it by chuckling over her shoulder.
"Don't laugh!" she exclaimed before twisting just enough to smack his chest. "It isn't funny," she groused dramatically.
“It's a little funny,” he countered.
She huffed and glared back at her screen. “I cannot believe… THAT WAS ONE OF THE WORDS I WAS THINKING ABOUT!” she whisper screeched. “That was one of the French words I thought would work. You can’t… English can’t just steal other languages’ words.”
He took a drink of his coffee with a grimace. “That’s… that’s kind of what English is. It’s really just a bunch of words stolen from just about every other language in existence, all standing on each other under an anorak masquerading as a real language.” He nudged her with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you didn’t get it.”
The genuineness in his voice instantly brought her out of her funk. She shrugged and gave him a small smile. “It’s just a game. I really appreciate your help, though. Even if it didn’t work out so well.”
They continued to stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before he finally looked away with a quiet clearing of his throat. He glanced back, eyes settling on her phone. “They have other games you know. Have you played some of their other games? They can be fun too… unless you have other plans.”
“Oh no,” she assured him quickly. “I’m just meeting my friend here, but she’s running late, so I have time. Which games do you recommend?” She held her phone out for him to see.
“I’m Tim, by the way,” he held his hand out for her.
She beamed in response, leaning closer as she shook his hand. “Hi, Tim. It’s really nice to meet you. I’m…”
“Marinette!” Stephanie called from the doorway as she rushed into the café. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I got caught up in… Okay, I overslept and then I couldn’t just leave with my hair looking like that. But I am sor…” she froze and blinked at Marinette and Tim. “Oh! You met already! Awesome. Job done. I can go back to bed. Enjoy the date!” she called over her shoulder, already pulling the ponytail holder out of her hair. “I expect details later!”
“You said you wanted to meet up!” Marinette exclaimed after her.
Stephanie turned in the doorway with a cocky smirk. “I said I wanted to hook you up,” she corrected. Her eyes darted over to Tim. “Didn’t even have to be here to do it either.” She turned to Tim. “See I told you I did my best work asleep. And you doubted me,” she tutted and with a wink, she disappeared through the door.
Marinette huffed a laugh and turned toward Tim. She looked at him for a few seconds before she perked up in her seat, eyes brightening. “Oh! You’re Tim! That Tim! She has been talking you up for weeks.”
He quirked his head to the side and studied her for a second then sighed with a smile. “You must be the woman she wanted to set me up with. She didn’t tell me anything about you. Just told me I’d thank her. I was honestly rather terrified to meet you.” He watched her as she barked out a laugh, his eyes softening as she shook her head, eyes shining with mirth.
“That sounds like Steph,” she agreed.
She turned her smile on him and he felt his own smile widening. “I think she’s right,” he finally stated, without any uncertainty. “I should thank her.”
Marinette nodded in agreement. “Oui, me too.” She looked down then up shyly through her lashes. “Did you want to move to a table?”
“I absolutely would,” he agreed then his eyes caught on the clock. “Or, we can go somewhere else and get lunch… continue your games… or no games just talking.”
Marinette grinned at his offer. “I love that idea. Maybe we can talk now and play games later, but as a team.”
“I would love that,” he grinned back. “But we absolutely have to plan how to get back at Steph for this. We can’t let her win.”
“Oh absolutely,” she agreed with an adorable giggle as she passed through the door. “I play to win.”
Tim watched her pass by him, his eyes fixed on her brilliant smile, mentally planning ways to win her heart. “Me too,” he agreed quietly.
Day 7 and the last day of Timari January 2026! the prompt was We're All Going to Die!
As always, huge thanks to @maribat-calendar-events for doing such a fabulous job putting together prompts and keeping me motivated to write <3 honestly, I wouldn't get half as much done if I didn't have the prompts to go on, so I'm so grateful for everything you do!
Link to AO3
“Are you sure you’re good to leave Gotham today? Dick keeps calling you,” said Marinette as Tim pulled her determinedly towards the train station.
“He’s only doing that because I told him I had today off, like an idiot,” he grumbled, buying her ticket before she could so much as pull her purse out of her bag. She protested but he simply shot her a cheeky grin as he rushed them to the platform. If they were fast enough, Dick wouldn’t be able to find them until they were well on their way to New York, and then it would just be a case of putting up with his pouting later. “The world isn’t ending, there’s no emergency, he’s just dramatic. But getting out of Gotham is the only way we’ll get to spend time on our own, so it’s worth getting gone now.”
“Alright, if you’re sure,” she laughed, settling into their seats and resting her head on his shoulder. He was pretty sure she was asleep within minutes and he smiled to himself as he pulled out his phone to take a picture to capture the moment. It wasn’t as good as using a camera but this way he could look at it whenever he wanted, so that was a plus.
Somehow, just before they arrived in New York she woke up, stretching and smiling at him again. He'd silenced his phone to make sure it didn't wake her but he could see that his missed calls had jumped in the first ten minutes of the train ride before cutting off abruptly. Dick must finally have checked his tracker and seen him heading out of town. Good, he didn't need to be interrupted again while he was showing Marinette around his other city, not that she knew what it was to him.
“So, any sights you wanted to see today?” he asked as they made their way from the station, arm slung over her shoulder and feeling as relaxed as he possibly could. Which, of course, is why they were immediately accosted by his so-called friends. How they knew he was going to be there today…well, he could take a guess.
“Tim! Hey, we’ve been trying to get hold of you for a while,” said Kon, shoulders slouched as he gave Marinette a once over before grinning widely at her. “Well, hello there little lady, nice to meet you. I’m Kon, Tim’s best friend.”
“Sorry, I had to turn my phone off because of Dick,” frowned Tim, pulling the phone back out and scrolling through the missed calls, wincing when he saw the change from Dick to his team. Meanwhile, Marinette was giggling and holding her hand out to Kon to shake it.
“I’m Marinette,” she smiled, turning to Tim with a curious look. “You didn’t mention that your best friend lives here! We could have organised to spend the day with him.”
“Because he doesn’t live in New York,” he muttered, reading the extra messages he hadn’t realised had come through at lightning speed. Swearing quietly, he locked eyes with Kon and nodded shortly. “Okay, let’s go. Marinette, I’m so sorry but Kon needs my help-”
“Go, it’s fine,” she interrupted, far too understanding but Tim didn’t have time to question it. Kissing her briefly, he heard her say something about finding a coffee shop before he took off towards the Tower to get changed.
_ _ _
The battle was going badly. Toyman’s minions were relentless and Robin couldn't get close enough - or just hold still for long enough - to hack into their server and shut them down. They seemed endless, every time Superboy took out a wave, another appeared. And Superboy and Wonder Girl were managing to hit them back only for them to come rushing back in, leaving Robin and Impulse to try and get to the source. At the rate it was all going none of them were going to survive this.
Just as Superboy looked to be losing his current battle, a blur of red swung into view. The toys that were about to bring Superboy down were kicked down, the stranger smoothly moving through them to launch onto a ledge of the nearest building. Once she’d stopped swinging, Robin had to fight to contain his confusion; since when had there been a polka dot heroine in New York? He thought he knew everyone that operated locally but here she was, smiling and waving at him like she knew him.
“Bonjour!” she called, jumping across to him and sweeping another row of toys as she went. If he wasn’t so relieved to see someone helping out, he would have been warning her away and telling her to leave it to them. “I assume you need assistance, non? I am Ladybug, superheroine of Paris, and I'm here to help.”
“Who the fu-” Superboy began, only cutting off because a fresh line of toys was jumping to get to him. But Robin had to agree with his sentiment because what? Why was a French heroine appearing in New York of all places, apparently at random? And he would have said as much if she hadn't raised an eyebrow, hand propped on her hip sassily, and spoken first.
“Are you truly in a position to - qu'est-ce que l'expression? - peer into a gift horse’s mouth?” she asked drily, flicking her weapon out and knocking down another row of toys. “And surely this is more time sensitive-”
“Look a gift horse in the mouth,” said Robin, unable to help himself when she'd said it wrong. “The phrase is ‘look a gift horse in the mouth’ not-”
“Mon dieu, I have shown up to aid you and you think it is appropriate to correct me?” she said, tone now icy as she narrowed her eyes at him. She looked personally offended, which was ridiculous because he certainly hadn't ever met the Parisian heroine before, but he raised his hands in surrender. “Do you want my help or not? I would like for this to end so I may return to my date.”
Glancing around, Robin admitted defeat and nodded jerkily, motioning for her to come closer so they could plan.
_ _ _
Robin hated to admit it but the fight against Toyman went much smoother once Ladybug was involved. Her ingenuity - and her lucky charm, which she used in ways that defied logic - made the defeat of the toys…well, child's play. It didn’t hurt that she was frighteningly competent, and seemed to take charge without meaning to. She would ask for their opinions - or their objections, if he was feeling grumpy about it - but she could plan quickly and adjust on the fly, which made her the perfect lead for their impromptu team-up.
“That was awesome,” said Wonder Girl, offering her fist to Ladybug and pulling Superboy into a hug. “That Miraculous cure? Fabulous, I can’t believe we have no clean up! You are so welcome to fight with us any time you want. Are you busy right now? Because we would be happy to have you join us for some post-battle chill time over in the Tower, right boys?”
“Oh, I should get back to my date,” she replied, though her eyes shifted towards Robin before she smiled more brightly and said, “Unless you’re planning on hanging with everyone, Monsieur Robin?”
“No, I have my own date to get back to,” he said after a brief pause, where he squinted at her confusedly. Didn’t she just say she had a date to get back to? “I just have to go and change, so if you’ll all excuse me…”
“D’accord,” she beamed, waving to the others before throwing her yo-yo (how such a ridiculous weapon was so effective boggled his mind) and zipping away from them. Robin waited briefly before following suit, grappling towards Titans Tower.
Once he was changed and he’d escaped the others, he was so busy looking at his phone, trying to think of a way to apologise to Marinette that he didn’t spot her waiting outside the street entrance to the Tower. It wasn’t until she grabbed his elbow that he realised anyone was there, which was sloppy of him especially straight after a fight.
“Marinette? How- when-” He tripped over his words as he tried to make sense of her being nearby when she should have no idea where he was. They hadn’t shared locations with each other because he didn’t want to have to lie about why he was in certain places but…
“Wonder Girl pointed it out to me during the fight,” she shrugged, though her eyes were glittering with amusement. And, dammit, he still couldn’t connect the dots. The fight? But why had she been anywhere near… “Tim, are you alright? Did the little marionettes hit you in the head? I would have thought the cure would have fixed that, though…”
“Holy sh-” he half shouted, eyes popping wide open as he looked at her, reassessing everything he knew about her in the new light of knowing she was a superheroine. “You- You’re- You know that I’m-”
“-running around Gotham dressed as a bird?” she finished, stifling a giggle. “Oui, I ran into Dick while he was taking care of a convenience store robbery and he called me by my name. Tried to play it off but…there aren’t many people that know who I am that do not go to school with me. After that…it made a lot of sense. I was planning on telling you today, if it helps, the fight with Toyman just gave me a good opportunity. Is…is it okay, that I know?”
“Okay? This is the best news!” he declared stoutly, pulling her into a kiss that made his head go light. “My girlfriend is a badass. And now I don’t have to try and keep secrets from you, this is the best case scenario I could possibly have imagined. But forget that - for now - are you ready to continue our date?”
Green was the color of the grass
Where I used to read at Centennial Park
I used to think I would meet somebody there
Marinette sighed as she took out her notebook and started sketching.
She was frustrated at Adrien, her now ex-boyfriend.
Honestly, she was done with his 'high-road' bullshit. He was convinced they were soulmates, despite the fact that her bond had not manifested yet.
Closing her eyes, she wished she could just... leave. Dissapear.
She desperately wanted to meet her soulmate, but for now, she was stuck with Adrien.
A sudden stroke of inspiration took over her, a sudden desire to design a teal dress.
_______________________________________
Teal was the color of your shirt
When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop
You used to work at to make a little money
Tim sighed, as he sat down at the bench in centennial park. As a part of an undercover mission, he had to work at a yogurt shop. The teal shirt he had to wear was hideous, in his opinion. If only someone could redesign it...
_______________________________________
Time, curious time
Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs
Were there clues I didn't see?
"Marinette !" Chloe cried, as Marinette was pulled across the sidewalk. She bumped into people, barely having time to appologise before she was being pulled again. The people gave her a sympathetic look, once they saw the glowing red thread tied to her little finger.
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
The pull finally stopped infront of a coffe shop. A boy who was about her age, who looked extremely tired, bumbed into her.
it was llike they had been struck by lightning. The red thread which connected them glowed brighter than before, before exploding into a shining dust.
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
He boy slowly loked at her, a small smile on his face "Nice to meet you, soulmate."
_______________________________________
Time, mystical time
Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine
Marinette never cried infront of anyone ever since Hawkmoth appeared. But today was an exception. Lila had reached new lows, and had destroyed her diary, which had translations of the miraculous grimore.
Breaking down infront of Tim, she clung to him as if he was her life line.
Almost immediately, Tim mafe her feel better with just a few words - he had made a digital copy of the translations. He had been prepared, apparently.
Were there clues I didn't see?
And isn't it just so pretty to think
As he comforted her and wiped away her tears, she couldnt help but wonder, how she was so lucky to have found him.
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
"I cant believe how lucky I am, to have found you." Marinette said softly.
"We have the invisible string to thank for that, dont we ?" Tim said laughing.
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Marinette said "Not just any invisible thread"
A string that pulled me
Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar
"This thread, it pulled me. From Adrien, to that coffee shop that day. If Adrien hadnt tried to kiss me, the bond may not have pulled me away." Marinette said, and Tim nodded.
Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire
Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons
"The thread gave me strength, and courage. At my darkest moment, i found solace in the fact that someone out there was waiting for me." Marinette said, leaning into Tim's embrace.
One single thread of gold tied me to you
"In the midst of all this, one single thread of gold tied me to you." Marinette said.
Welcome to Maribat Calendar Events January event. We’re ready to start the year off right… with Timari.
Do one prompt! Do them all! Do none of them and create your own Timari content! Any participation is great! They just serve as ways to encourage that creativity. No Pressure.
This year, the prompts have a sound track! We've created a Spotify playlist of songs a group of Timari fans felt resonated Timari. Follow the QR code or the link at the bottom of the post to listen.
Make sure you tag us so others can more easily see your work:
TAGS FOR BOTH TUMBLR AND AO3: #TIMARI JANUARY #TIMARI JANUARY 2025
BE SURE TO TAG THIS BLOG @MARIBAT-CALENDAR-EVENTS AND REBLOG SO OTHERS GET A CHANCE TO SEE TOO!
Guidelines
Any orientation or relationship style is welcome and encouraged (familial, platonic, romantic, aged-up NSFW)!
Any creative works (writing, fics, drabbles, head-canons, art, poetry, incorrect quotes, etc.) are accepted
Tag @maribat-calendar-events in your works so we can share it
Use the hashtag so others can see your work
Keep NSFW works under the ‘Keep Reading’ line with an appropriate warning above
Questions? Send us a message/ask, or contact @mochegato and thank you to @izanae for coordinating and @olivia-anderson-fanfic for creating the calendar.
Get creative and have fun! We all look forward to your participation and submissions!
Rating: General
Warning: None
Category: F/M
Media Type: Poetry
Word Count: 170
Additional Tags: Reflections, POV Tim Drake, friends to lovers to friends, "Time drifts people apart until they need each other again"
Summary: Relationships can last forever though not all are meant to be romantic
For the time we spent together
All of it was a beauty I wish lasted longer
Do not get me wrong
Every story needs a break to breathe, grow, and learn
Dating can show the true colors
And that is the most important piece of clarity
Relationships that are the strongest
Even time cannot separate them forever
There is a certain wonder to how time works
How you can stay so close despite having defined it once as more
Evenings that went on for what felt like days within but hours
Memories can be some of the cruelest in the world
Every
Moment
Only
Reactionary and reflections now
I can only recall the time we were together through pictures
Even the days of the best magic ever
Sweetest feelings of genuine love
Only a small taste of something more
Forever will our connection be
You taught me so much as I did you
Others may not be able to rekindle it to friendship
Uniqueness was always our thing after all
~
Notes:
Having a strong platonic relationship is more valuable than any romantic can give. If you do not love your partner platonically first, can you truly cherish them in a romantic setting?
Timari January 2025's Day 2 Prompt - "Faded" was used. @maribat-calendar-events
I’m writing a long fic I’ve decided! Hope y’all like it:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Fandom: Maribat
Ship: Timari
Characters: Marinette Dupain Cheng, Tim Drake
Additional tags: Court of Owls, slow burn, fashion designer Mari, more tags to be added as chapters are written
Marinette just wanted to spend the week in Gotham at fashion week for her boss. She was supposed to be at the main event for their walk so she could take notes. She'd even designed a special outfit for it. So when she gets told two days before the event that she won't be needed she decides to do a little cathartic arson. She didn't realise that someone had seen her design, and that they were the reason she was getting the silent treatment from her boss. Can she get herself out of this predicament? Or is she going to have to rely on the local wildlife for a save? One thing is for sure, the man who got kidnapped with her is hiding something and she's going to find out what.
I’m excited about this. It’s a challenge for myself to write 500 words per prompt, so it won’t be the longest thing, but that’s still a decent length of fic.
(Yes, I’m late. Yes, this isn’t even what the prompt was intending. What of it?)
~~~~~
There was a limited amount of scholarships that the Waynes could give out. Sure, the man was a billionaire, but the Wayne fortune wasn’t unlimited. It was only given to the best of the best, to those with the most potential.
… however, it was guaranteed that you would be noticed if you were valedictorian. Even more so if you had lots of extracurriculars.
Tim had figured it would be a cinch, really. No one at his school really needed the money provided by a Wayne scholarship. Tim was no exception to this, the money wasn’t what he was in it for. Still, he was the only one that was really interested in getting it. He would get the Wayne scholarship. He would get noticed.
Or, so he had thought.
He glared at the back of her head, biting the end of his pen.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng. His nemesis.
She had tested into the school thanks to a sudden opening the year previous (one of the kids got busted for helping out the mob, quite a feat considering his age). There were whispers that she had gotten in because the school was trying to meet a diversity quota, but Tim didn’t care about that. No, the only thing he cared about was the fact that she was also gunning for the Wayne scholarship. And she was pretty good. He could rattle off her ID just as easily as his own at this point, it was always the one listed just above or below his whenever teachers put their test scores on the wall.
But he had to be better.
Marinette glanced back at the clock on the wall to see how long it would be until their first period started and caught him staring. She looked around quickly before flipping him the bird.
Tim bristled.
Before he could come up with some kind of witty retort his pen exploded in his mouth. At least the redness of his cheeks could be attributed to all of the coughing and sputtering instead of the embarrassment it really was.
Marinette glared down at her schedule. Her tray of cafeteria food lay untouched beside her – not because she was so focused that she was forgetting to eat, but because it was literally two types of cheese melted onto a slice of bread and she would rather die than eat that.
She felt someone plop down next to her and peer over her shoulder. Tim, undoubtedly, she didn’t need to look up to know that.
She rested her head on her hand, leaning forward in an attempt to cover up what she was doing. But she knew it was too late.
“Still not able to figure out how I fit seven extracurriculars in a week?” Tim said. He sounded soft and sweet and so condescending.
She was going to punch him in that stupid face of his. Or that frustratingly-not-stupid face of his. Whatever.
He had been bragging about it for a good week. And for good reason, it seemed. Marinette, try as she might, could only find combinations with up to five extracurriculars (excluding the student council, which would be voted on in just a month and a half).
She stilled the hand that was drumming her pen on the table. “Well, unfortunately, it looks like the pen biting class is all filled up.”
He rolled his eyes, but she noticed that when he spoke next he was careful not to move his mouth as much so she wouldn’t see his stained teeth: “Don’t worry. I could always tutor you. We can both get the certification that way.”
“Oh, how generous of you,” she said sarcastically.
He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a good guy.”
“Totally. And I’m the bad guy?” She said, grinning.
“Of course. At least every woman that’s a bad guy is super cool.”
“I want to be a Wanda Maximoff kinda bad guy.”
“You’ll have to watch your robot husband die… well, you’ll have to get a robot husband first.”
“Well, I was already going to join the robotics club.”
He snickered a little. “I don’t think the school will be all that happy with you if you use their resources to make a husband for yourself.”
“Depends on how good the AI is,” she argued. “If I manage to make an almost sentient AI with their equipment they’d get famous for being the ones to teach me, and they’d love that.”
He tipped his head to the side as if considering. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Wait… if you’re deciding on your clubs already… does that mean you’re letting me have more extracurriculars?”
She scowled, her face reddening. Sometimes he was nice enough that she could forget that he was the absolute worst. She pushed herself to her feet, stuffing her things in her bag. “God, you’re annoying. I’m going outside –.”
She stopped in her tracks.
Something hit her. Something so obvious that she felt stupid for not noticing it before.
“Oh my –! Outside! Duh. Stuff outside of school.”
His smile dropped, so she had to be right. She grinned victoriously.
“May the best person win, huh?”
He looked like he very much wanted it to be an unfair fight, but he nodded and pulled his blue-stained hand out of his pocket to shake hers.
With that, she turned on her heel to leave.
She got about five steps away before she stopped again to tell him:
“Vinegar and cornstarch.”
He frowned. “Sorry?”
“For your teeth. Vinegar and cornstarch should help with the ink.”
“Oh… thanks,” he said, his face flushing red. It did that a lot, she noticed. But, then again, his skin was so pale that sometimes even smiling could tint it pink.
She shrugged just slightly. “It’s whatever.”
She speedwalked away before he could notice that she had left the tray next to him. The lunch ladies walked around to make sure that you ate all of the food and wouldn’t let you leave until you did. No thanks.
(She felt a little bad when she heard he was sent home sick later that day. At least he could get the pen off sooner?)
~
They only had one class (homeroom science) and lunch together. It hadn’t been intentional on their part, in fact their actual list of classes was rather similar, it was just how it ended up working out.
However, they were both members of all five of each others’ clubs. Again, unintentional, but there was only one combination of clubs that allowed someone to have five in a week.
On Monday, they had photography club. Tim excelled in this one. His camera was many years old, his dad had passed it down to him for his tenth birthday, but he was very familiar with it and its abilities. He took high resolution pictures of the different flowers and buildings around campus, smiling widely.
(His smile only widened when he felt Marinette glaring at him behind her phone camera.
He grinned back at her, flipping his hair. “Be sure to get my good side.”
“Yeah, true, your face is pretty lopsided. Tilt your head the other way?”)
Tuesday was theater. Tim was also better at this, he was pretty sure, considering he was the only one of the two of them that was going to do any acting. Marinette had opted to stay in the background working as the head of tech. An important job, yes, but unlikely to be noticed as much.
(He cringed as the lights brightened while he was trying to memorize his lines, shielding his eyes with his free hand. “Hey, turn that down! You’re going to blind me!” He yelled in the general direction of the light and sound booth.
“GOOD,” her voice crackled over the intercom.)
…the week went downhill from there.
Wednesday was soccer. It wasn’t like Tim was bad at soccer, it was just that Marinette was much more active than he was. Her family owned a pretty popular bakery, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she had gained a lot of muscle helping out around the shop. Tim was sure that, had he had a more rigorous workout regimen growing up, he would have been about equal to her athletically. But he wasn’t.
(She smiled as she lapped him. “Don’t worry, Tim, not everyone is made for running around. You can always carry the water cooler.”
“Sure. Isn’t there a whole thing about pouring Gatorade over the person that shoots the winning goal?”)
Thursday was robotics. Despite the fact that she was joking – or, at least, he was pretty sure she was joking – when she said that she was going to make herself a robot husband one day, she was actually really good at programming. He didn’t have an excuse reason as to why he wasn’t as good at this one, the programming language that they used simply wasn’t clicking for him – unlike the keyboards, which seemed to click even when he wasn’t touching them.
(She smiled as she leaned over his shoulder to peer at his code. “You spelled this wrong,” she said, pointing.
He typed a five letter word that starts with B. “Is this better?”)
Friday was yearbook. No one was better than the other at yearbook. It was yearbook.
(“I’m nominating you for Class Clown. You’re certainly pale enough,” Marinette said absently, not even looking up from her computer.
“Sure, but only if I can nominate you for Most Likely To Be Late To Graduation.”
She pressed her lips together thinly, something he had learned to attribute to being her version of blushing. “I was late to class one time!”)
~
Marinette yawned. It was Saturday, which meant it was their first soccer game of the season.
She felt a large hand settle on top of her head and sent her father a tiny smile. She felt her mother squeeze her hand.
She had insisted that they needn’t come. They had a job, after all. The morning was the best time for eating baked goods, and therefore the best time for selling them. Especially on a Saturday. They were really giving up a lot to come to her game. But they insisted, and it was nice to have them around.
Marinette saw Tim. He was sitting alone by the cooler, absently kicking a soccer ball between his feet. He looked a little dumb in his uniform, with his too-long legs sticking out of his shorts and his shirt so big that he might as well have been wearing a trashbag. She snickered a little.
Sabine smiled. “Is that a friend?”
“No. He doesn’t like me all that much,” she said.
This statement was highlighted by the fact that the moment Tim looked up and saw her and her family his expression twisted from a bored frown into a bitter one.
“He’s competing with me for the Wayne scholarship.”
Tom frowned. “I still don’t get why you want it so badly. We can afford for you to attend college.”
“I know, but it’s always nice to save money, right?” She said, smiling.
Her parents couldn’t really disagree but she could tell that they didn’t necessarily believe her.
But that was a problem for another time. She rushed the last couple of steps to fill her water bottle and they left to go find seats.
He watched her parents for a moment before turning to look at her.
“A pink soccer ball? Really?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at the ball just barely peeking out of her duffel bag.
Marinette shrugged. “It’s a nice color. Besides, it’s still good enough to give you a bloody nose if you’re not careful.”
“You can’t hit me in the nose at this angle,” Tim said with a scoff.
She grinned at him around the cooler. “Wanna bet?”
~
Tim hummed as he started putting up posters. It was three hours before school started, so no one was around. His voice echoed around the halls in tandem with the sound of rustling papers and the Scotch Tape.
Someone came up beside him and started fishing through their bag for supplies only half an hour later and he wasn’t at all surprised to find that it was Marinette. He was, however, surprised to see the state she was in: her uniform was slightly mussed up, her shirt wrinkled and her tie loose around her neck.
Not a morning person, he thought, chuckling internally.
His amusement faded somewhat when she dropped her bag and her face crumpled as if the bag falling was some sort of metaphor for her life falling apart.
… she probably hadn’t slept. He was certainly always a mess when he pulled all-nighters.
Tim hesitated before offering her his thermos. “Here.”
She stared at it blankly for a moment. Then, her eyes narrowed just slightly. She looked up at him, distrust plain on her face.
“Is there drugs in this?”
He snickered, rolling his eyes. “Can’t beat you fair and square in science today if you’re half awake.”
Her lips pulled into a thin line and she looked away, taking a short sip of the coffee. “Thanks.”
He shrugged just slightly.
She put up a poster. It was nice, but clearly handmade – unlike Tim’s, which was made using Photoshop. Still, the choice of colors was pleasing to the eyes and her handwriting was rather nice. Tim’s eyes glazed over it…
And then snapped back to read it again.
“You’re going for secretary?!”
She rolled her eyes behind his thermos. “Congrats on learning to read.”
He huffed quietly and moved down a hallway to put one up above a water fountain with her. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“You can’t prove that I know anything,” she deadpanned.
Something hit him. He leaned closer with a teasing smile. “Are you scared you’d lose to me?”
“I know I’d lose,” she said bitterly.
He jumped just slightly. He hadn’t expected for her to agree. Dang, she must be really tired.
She didn’t look it, though, glowering at the picture of her face in the middle of the poster she was hanging up. She reached a hand up to adjust it slightly to try and straighten the picture despite the glue holding it firmly in place. “No one would vote for me unless I was the only option.”
He frowned. “That’s not true. You’d be a great president.”
“Oh, totally. Certainly better than you,” she said. She gave up on the picture and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “But actually getting to be president is a popularity contest, and I can’t win those.”
~
Marinette smiled as the robot navigated its way through the maze they had created.
“There’s no way it was that easy,” Tim said, staring at the very few lines of code.
She shrugged. The robot was simply making its way around roomba style and she kinda loved it. Maybe she would strap a knife to it. Not to intimidate the judges, no way, just for aesthetic reasons.
She picked up Tikki The Roomba Knockoff and flipped a switch to send her back into sleep mode.
“Sometimes, stupid problems need stupid answers,” she said wisely.
Tim huffed and dropped down on the chair so he could glare at his little tin man that currently moved nothing but its legs.
She hesitated before sitting down on the table in front of him, crossing her legs. She tapped his computer screen until she got to his work. “Alright, I’ll tutor you.”
He blushed faintly but nodded. “Please do.”
~
Tim and Marinette were sitting on the ground, petting a fluffy stray cat that had taken a liking to them.
“What should we call him?” Tim asked.
Marinette tipped her head to the side, looking down at the black cat with luminous green eyes. “Chaton.”
Tim smiled. “That sounds cool. What does it mean?”
“Kitty.”
His smile dropped as he groaned. “We aren’t naming a cat kitty.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, what should we name him?”
“Uh… Plagg.”
“You just made a random sound!” She complained.
“It’s still better than kitty.”
“No it isn’t!”
The cat scampered off.
Marinette and Tim glared at each other, the ‘this is your fault’ written plainly on both of their faces.
~
Marinette was idly doodling flowers in her science notebook when the teacher said the dreaded sentence: “This project will be done in pairs.”
She groaned internally and dropped her head onto her desk to avoid the embarrassment of not being anyone’s first choice. At least this class was an even number so someone would have to pair up with her, she didn’t know how she would live if she was the last person picked.
“Based on last names,” Mrs. Plinthe added, surely trying to stop the mess that would be people getting left out in groups of three before it could happen.
Marinette relaxed just slightly.
… but then Marinette realized this was worse. Because, if it was by last name…
She heard someone drop into the chair next to her and rolled her eyes, lifting her head to look at Tim Drake.
“I guess this is one way to guarantee that neither of us can do better than the other,” Tim said, trying for an awkward smile.
“Unless I tell the teacher that you didn’t do your half of the work,” she said.
“... you wouldn’t do that.”
She raised her eyebrows at him just slightly.
He squinted at her face for a moment before shaking his head. “You wouldn’t. You like things being fair.”
She shrugged, which was kinda an agreement. He certainly seemed to take it as such, at least.
He turned his squint onto the board, where the instructions were written in pretty cursive. “Hm… want to do this at my house or yours?”
She looked up at it as well and sighed. “I don’t have a backyard, it’ll have to be your place.”
“... how do you not…?”
“I’m not poor,” she said quickly, because she could already see pity (Or was that guilt? Why?) creeping in. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her face warmed and she was so glad that she had enough melanin to hide the way her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “We just live above my family’s bakery.”
His mouth made a tiny ‘o’ shape. “Sure, then, when are you free?”
She looked at the day it was due. In one week… hm… she had a lot of shifts at the soup kitchen this week and she’d promised to help out around the bakery… not to mention the track meets… or the extracurriculars that she shared with Tim –.
Oh. Their extracurriculars!
“How about after our game on Saturday?”
He shrugged just slightly. “Sure, if you want.”
~
Tim and Marinette walked along the sidewalk. It was only a four mile walk to get home from the park where all of their soccer tournaments were held, this he knew, but it felt like it was taking years.
Marinette dribbled her soccer ball as they made their way towards his house.
“Y’know, I kinda assumed you had some kinda butler or something to drive you everywhere,” she said. “I would’ve asked my parents to drive us if I’d known.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re a rich kid, too, y’know.”
“Yeah, but not nearly as rich as you guys. I mean, you’re neighbors with Bruce Wayne.”
“I would hardly call us ‘neighbors’,” he said, grinning. “There’s acres and acres of land between both of our houses.”
She shrugged. “Still technically the closest person to them, so.”
He chuckled. She wasn’t wrong.
He glanced her up and down absently. It was the first time he’d ever seen her in casual wear, and he had to admit she had him beat in that department. While he had opted for a dark red turtleneck and slacks, Marinette had chosen bright pink pants and a cute tee. She had the ‘casual’ part of ‘casual wear’ down in a way Tim definitely did not.
Admittedly, she was a little cute.
She looked over at him and smiled a little. “Hm?”
“Oh…” he said, his face warming. “I was just thinking that, if we don’t finish in time, you can stay at my house…”
Her eyebrows raised almost comically high.
“Not like that!” He said quickly, sure he was about to spontaneously combust, because wow that came out wrong. “I just meant that we have a lot of guest rooms and stuff so we can work on it in the morning instead of just staying up all night…”
“Would your parents be alright with that?” She asked, frowning.
“It’s not like they’d know.”
Her frown deepened. “I mean… yeah, your parents are out of the country on business, I know that… but won’t your nanny tell on you?”
He snorted. “I’m too old for a nanny.”
“... how long have you been staying alone?”
“I dunno, since I was, like, eight,” he said, feeling oddly defensive. She was looking at him with an odd expression and he didn’t like it.
She kicked the ball up higher this time to catch it, tucking it under her arm. She looked at the ground with a thoughtful expression and didn’t say anything else for a good while.
Then, hesitantly, she said: “I hear that Mrs. Plinthe does a lot of group projects. If we get paired up again, let's do it at my house, okay?”
He frowned himself, now. “Why?”
She pulled a grin to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Because I don’t want to be in a stuffy, unused, rich person's house. That seems like it would suck.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re the worst.”
“No, you.”
“Wooooow, what a great retort.”
“I was just returning your energy. If you’re not going to put effort into an insult then why should I?”
“Excuse you. I worked real hard on that insult,” he said, giving her shoulder a nudge.
She scoffed and pushed him back. “Don’t shove me.”
“Don’t shove me when you tell me not to shove you!” He said, trying not to laugh. This was, of course, accompanied by another little bump.
She snickered. “Don’t shove me when you tell me not to shove you while I’m telling you not to shove me.” (You’ll never guess what action this was accented by.)
Tim was starting to lose track. “Don’t shove me when –.”
~
Marinette frowned as she looked at the millions of broken eggs at their feet. She was no stranger to broken eggs, it was a large part of baking, but this just felt wasteful.
“Hey, I’m beginning to think we might be stupid.”
Tim glared at the design they had drawn up. “Beginning to think? You thought we had hope before?”
Marinette snickered quietly. “Fair enough.”
She squinted at the three remaining cartons of eggs. “What if we use a boiled egg?”
“That’s cheating.”
“Or, we could call it… ‘thinking outside the box’... or, well, ‘thinking outside of the egg catcher’, I guess, since we’ve already tried boxes?”
He gave her an unimpressed look.
She huffed a little and checked the time. An hour until midnight. Her parents should be asleep by now, since bakers always wake up early to bake everything. She groaned and leaned back on her hands, glaring up at the clinical white ceilings above them.
“Think we should give up for the night?” Tim asked. “I’m kinda fried.”
Marinette sighed. “Yeah… speaking of fried… do you have anything to eat?”
“... I have ramen noodles.”
Her annoyance flared. Not at him, for once, but at his parents. He couldn’t even cook?! How could they just leave him home alone?!
She maintained a mostly calm expression. “Fine. Where’s your room? I’ll need at least a shirt to sleep in.”
He cringed. “Er… how about you cook and I find you something to wear?”
Her annoyance settled and she pulled a cheeky grin to her face. “Oh? Are you hiding something from me, Tim?”
“No!” He said quickly, which totally wasn’t suspicious at all. He seemed to realize this, too, because he cleared his throat and said: “I mean… no…”
“Real convincing, Tim,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But fine. I will not invade your privacy today.”
“I don’t like that you’re saying ‘today’...”
She pressed her lips together thinly. Whoops. Looks like he caught her.
He glared at her.
She ran off in the direction of the kitchen before he could make her promise anything about tomorrow.
~
Tim woke up to someone shaking his shoulder vigorously.
Marinette was cursing above him. “Why are you so hard to wake, Christ…”
She let go of him, thank God. He slowly peeked an eye open despite the fact that his lamp was trying to kill him and found that she was unscrewing a water bottle. Which was bad –.
… wait…
There was a girl.
In his room.
Tim screeched and pulled the comforter up to cover himself. He wasn’t naked or anything, he had no clue why this was his first instinct, but it was what happened.
She flinched at the sudden noise and now there was water all over the two of them which was great.
Tim sighed and wiped his face with his hand, both in an attempt to wake himself up and because he had gotten splashed with water.
“What is it that has you in my room at–” He looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand and the injustice swelling in his chest only grew. “– three in the morning?”
She smiled. “I thought of an answer to our problem.”
His exasperation disappeared. He sat up, beaming just as blindingly bright as his lamp. “Really?”
“Yeah!” She said. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him out of bed and out into the halls.
He laughed. “Okay, okay, relax,” he said even though he was struggling to relax himself. Call it sleep deprivation if you want to, but this felt big.
(And, not to mention, his house hadn’t been this lively in ages. Even if it was just the two of them, their heavy footfalls as they sprinted through the long hallways towards the back door and their laughter bouncing off of the cold marble walls made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.)
And, hey, it turns out that she had managed to solve it.
There was just one teensy little thing.
“... did you tear open one of the pillows from the guest room for padding?”
She pressed her lips together thinly. “Uh… so, big Dick Grayson fan, huh?”
His face burned. “I thought you said you weren’t going to invade my privacy!”
“I mean… technically I said that yesterday…”
~
Marinette stood in front of the student body, looking over the rows of people. They all blended together with their identical outfits, but it wasn’t like she was really looking for anyone in particular, anyways.
She leaned close to the mic.
“You should vote me for secretary because I’m literally your only option and there is no guarantee that anyone on the council will do anything productive at all if there’s not someone taking minutes for all the meetings. I’m better than nothing. Great, glad we had this talk, bye.”
She strode offstage calmly and came to a stop beside Tim. He was going to be second for the presidential candidates, after one of the Ballard kids, and she could see the sweat starting to roll down the side of his head.
“Good luck,” she told him, leaning forward to straighten his tie.
He blushed up to his ears. “I don’t need it.”
She hummed a little in acknowledgement of the idea, pinching his cheek just slightly before heading off to join the audience.
~
Somehow, Tim succeeded in getting elected as student body president. Call it luck or plot armor or whatever, but it was nice.
He grinned and leaned over Marinette’s chair, lazily resting his head on top of hers. “So, ready to do absolutely nothing for an hour a day every week?”
“God, yes,” she said, grinning. “I don’t even know why it’s a thing here. It’s not like we need funding for events and the teachers definitely won’t listen to anything a student says.”
Tim shrugged lazily. “Think it’s for morale.”
She hummed her understanding.
The treasurer, Bernard Dowd, glanced between the two of them. He hesitated, glancing at the Vice President that Tim had chosen (Ali Ben Khadir).
Bernard grinned. “Wait, seriously?”
“Don’t smile like that,” Ali said. “You’re the one with the most work, Mr. Treasurer. You have to make sure the school doesn’t spend more money than it wants to.”
“Dang it,” Bernard complained.
“At least you get to go to prom,” said Tim, shrugging.
Bernard lit up. “Awesome! Maybe Darla would –.”
Tim only half-listened as Bernard talked.
Marinette was smiling just slightly, nodding along and sometimes offering advice or commentary. She seemed genuinely thrilled.
Tim realized that this was the first time he’d seen her talking to someone other than him or a teacher.
It was nice.
He moved to sit beside her at his designated President seat, resting his head on his hand and quietly adding in that Bernard would look good in a red and white suit. Marinette and Ali immediately chided him, saying that he would look like either a cultist (Marinette) or a gang member (Ali). Bernard looked pleased.
~
Marinette smiled as she bounced the soccer ball on her head repeatedly. The coach had suggested that she work on her headbutts (she had the very natural instinct to dodge whenever things came flying at her face).
Tim grinned as he watched her. It was bold of him to be so cocky when he couldn’t even juggle the ball.
She sent him a glare. “What?” She asked.
“Just thinking about how much higher my grades are gonna be when you finish killing off all your brain cells.”
She scoffed and changed the angle she was bouncing it at. Tim wheezed when the ball hit him in the chest.
~
Tim smiled as he slowly turned his monitor to Marinette. “Here, I got done editing your photo for you.”
“Oh, tha –.”
She stopped short when she saw it. She sighed quietly.
“Tim.”
“Yeah?”
“Why does my face look so wide in this?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how your face normally looks.”
“... racist.”
“Oh, shut up.” He flipped to the actual picture. “Fine, here it is.”
“It’s still too wide,” she said.
Tim frowned. “It’s… that’s your face,” he said.
“No, it’s not. Where is my real face?”
“This is it?”
“Liar –!”
“I’m not –!”
~
Marinette smiled brightly as she showed Tim the newest prop she had made for him to use.
“... why is this boomerang shaped like a bat?”
She huffed. “Because he’s Batman.”
“This is dumb.”
“You’re dumb.”
“Fight me.”
“I will! With this batarang!” She said, stealing the plastic cutout from him to brandish it ‘menacingly’.
He brought his cape up in a mockery of the character he was supposed to be playing. “I am vengeance. I am the night.”
Marinette snorted. She tapped his nose.
Tim did a stage fall backwards and spread out on the ground. “Oh dear! She’s defeated me!”
She grinned and turned on her heel and starting to exit stage left from their amazing performance. “Cool, guess this means I get to keep the prop car.”
Tim shot up, suddenly reanimated. “The car is done?! Let me see!”
She beamed, taking his hand and helping with the bulky fabric of his batsuit. “C’mon, then, you dumb bat.”
~
Tim looked around the tiny bakery.
The whole place smelled amazing. No wonder Marinette always smelled really good. So would he if he lived in this place.
A huge man turned around at the sound of the tiny bell on the door jingling and raised his eyebrows just slightly before lighting up with a smile. “Are you here for some food or for Marinette?”
Tim blushed. He didn’t truly know whether or not he wanted to blow his entire fortune on their food just yet, but he was leaning towards yes. He knew this was a bad idea, though, so he settled for asking him: “You know me?”
“Of course! You are the little boy who plays goalie.”
Tim resented the fact that he was being called little, even if he was pretty sure that everyone looked little to a man as gigantic as him.
A woman gave the man a smack on the arm. “Now, Tom, hush. You don’t want to scare off Marinette’s friend.” Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. “You are her friend, yes?”
Tim didn’t know why he was so much more scared of the woman that was less than an inch taller than him than the man who probably had to walk sideways to get through doorways and a neck as thick as Tim’s entire torso… but he very much was.
“Yes, ma’am!”
Sabine hopped over the counter and strode over with purpose and uh oh. He didn’t know how he messed up but he definitely did. She thrust a hand towards his face and he flinched back, holding his hands up – wow, his Taekwondo extracurricular was not coming through for him right now – and closed his eyes in preparation for a hit that he probably deserved but didn’t yet know why he was receiving it.
But no hit came.
He opened his eyes to find a cupcake in his face.
“Eat. You are thin,” she told him.
Tim stared at her from behind the cupcake, confused.
And then he smiled. “Thank you,” he said as he quickly took it from her. He started to go for his wallet but she was already leaving so apparently it was free. He didn’t know how he felt about that.
Luckily, he didn’t have much time to think about it.
Unluckily, this was because a hatch opened above him and he nearly got decapitated by a ladder.
Marinette sent him a smile that wasn’t nearly apologetic enough for attempting to murder him.
“Come up here, it’s a shortcut to my room.”
Oh dear god, he was going in her room?
He glanced back at her parents but they were calmly helping a customer. He hesitated, but headed up.
Marinette’s room nearly blinded him with how pink it was. It was definitely her favorite color. But it was nice; vibrant and alive in a way his house never was.
She didn’t wait long for him to get used to it, thrusting a pen in his face.
“Right, I’ll do all the drawing and formatting, you write. Your handwriting is better.”
He raised his eyebrows. “The writing on your student council posters was nice.”
“That was my mom’s handwriting.”
“Oh.”
~
Marinette didn’t know how to feel about her parents constantly bringing up snacks for Tim.
On one hand, he clearly loved the attention and affection that they were giving him. Brightening up just slightly every time they came with their newest creation.
On the other hand, it was kind of embarrassing. She fought the urge to scream into the giant stuffed cat she had slung herself across.
Sabine came up with a slice of cake for both of them. Tim looked like he was going to pop, leaning heavily against a chair, but he accepted.
“Maman,” Marinette whined. “Stoooooop.”
Tim smiled and reached over, pinching her cheek. “Relax, they’re nice.”
“Yeah,” she huffed and tilted her head away from the hand. “Too nice. It’s…” She waved her hands vaguely.
Sabine rested her hands on her hips. “Hush. You never bring friends home. Let me spoil this too-skinny one with manners to make him keep coming back.”
Marinette pressed her lips together thinly and rested her head in her hands. “Maman!” She complained.
Sabine laughed at her pain, giving her a pat on the head before making her way back down the steps.
She sighed and slowly looked up, preparing to ask Tim if they could just never work again, only to find a thoughtful frown playing across his lips.
She gave him a raised eyebrow.
He hesitated, but eventually the question slipped from between his lips: “Am I really… your only friend?”
God, Marinette wished she hadn’t asked. She looked at the project they were working on. It was a nice mix of red and black and yellow.
“Yeah,” she admitted after a while. “Just you and the people from student council, but they’re more friends of convenience than anything. Everyone else…” She sighed. “They aren’t too happy to be seen with someone that ‘cheated’ their way in.”
“But you didn’t?”
Marinette shrugged. “I know. I beat out one of the Staunton twins and I guess that means I had to have gotten in on some stupid diversity quota.”
Tim was quiet for a few moments.
Then, slowly, he scooted over to sit by her. She tipped her head slightly to rest against him.
“I’m really hoping that if I can get the Wayne scholarship it’ll prove to them that I deserve to be here just as much as anyone else… but I don’t think it’ll work.”
He hummed quietly. “You don’t want to be their friend, anyways. They’re all super stuck up.”
She gave a halfhearted laugh. She adjusted herself slightly on the stuffed cat so he could lean against it some as well.
“Why are you…?”
“Trying so hard?” Tim asked.
She nodded.
He sunk into the cat plush, closing his eyes. “I want my parents to be proud of me.”
Marinette closed her eyes as well, reaching out and taking his hand. There was a few moments before he intertwined their fingers.
“You always have my parents. They love you already,” she said quietly.
He chuckled. “And I’ll make my friends talk to you. I’m sure they’ll like you once they get to know you.”
They stayed like that for a while.
“I hope you get it,” Marinette said quietly.
“I hope you do, too.”
~
Tim’s parents were set to come home just in time for the scholarship letters to come in. Tim didn’t know if he wanted to know whether this was on purpose or if it was a complete coincidence. All he knew was that this meant that he would be able to tell them immediately.
And, well, he got his answer.
His phone blew up and he looked over to see Marinette freaking out. She had gotten the letter.
A weird feeling started in his chest. He was sad, yes, because this meant that he had failed and surely his parents would be disappointed in him… but he was also genuinely happy for her. She spammed him emojis and gifs, almost completely incoherent in her glee.
Bittersweet. That was the word for what he was feeling.
Suddenly, she stopped.
It must have hit her what it meant, too.
He sent her a quick text congratulating her.
And then he set his phone down. He made his way through the house, the weird feeling swelling ever higher. It was pushing its way up his throat, threatening to choke him. Something started behind his eyes and surely he wasn’t about to cry. He didn’t do that. He was far too old to cry.
He stopped at the front door. He didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe it was just habit at this point, obsessively checking the mail. Maybe he had been intending to leave. He didn’t know.
He sighed to himself and knelt down, picking up the pile of letters scattered on the doormat.
Tim almost dropped them.
He brought his hand to his mouth. He wanted a pen to bite at, his parents always complained about how bad biting his nails made his hands look. But there it was. Hidden among the bills and spam mail…
He let go of everything except for the letter emblazoned with the Wayne family crest, holding it close to his chest as he sprinted through the house.
His parents were at the kitchen table. Jack Drake was on his phone, he didn’t even look up at the sudden noise. Janet, however, did.
She gave him a stern look. “Timothy, what did I tell you about running through the house?”
Tim shrunk back just slightly, but quickly recovered. “I got the Wayne Scholarship!”
Janet shot to her feet, a smile lighting up her face. And it wasn’t one of those fake ones she wore at Galas, sitting all weird on her face, no. This one made her look younger, genuinely happier. She was proud.
She gathered him into a tight hug.
Tim hugged back, just as tightly. He buried his face in the fabric of his mother’s scarf, blinking rapidly.
He did it he did it he did it he was noticed –.
And then, suddenly, there was a banging noise.
Janet pulled back to look and Tim was already missing the warm feeling of her arms wrapped around him but this was nothing compared to the sudden chill he got when he saw his father’s face.
Jack and Janet looked at each other.
And, just like that, they were gone.
Tim stood in the kitchen, marble floors cold beneath his feet and letter clutched tightly in his hand.
He looked down at it, his expression carefully blank.
God… he’d never felt so… cold before.
He strode over to the fireplace in the living room. He turned it on.
He looked down at the letter in his hand.
He tossed it inside, not even bothering to watch the flames eat away at it, and collapsed on the couch.
He didn’t cry. Tim was far too old to cry. But he didn’t move for a long time.
Until he did. He pushed himself up in the pajama pants and thick hoodie that he had slept in. He trudged through the cold. The roads were clean, at least, he was making record time. He was freezing, he couldn’t feel his fingers and his toes felt like they were starting to ache, but he didn’t care.
His legs went on autopilot, as if he had trekked this particular path a million times.
He ended up at Marinette’s front door.
She took one look at him from her place behind the counter and rushed over, pulling him into the warmth of the bakery and towards the ovens.
And then she was wrapping around him, her face buried in his neck. She was talking. A lot. He couldn’t make out any of the words. He felt… weird.
They were joined by Sabine and Tom. They didn’t hug Tim, but they were close enough for him to lean into them. A hand ran up and down his back. Fingers combed through his hair.
“I got it. The letter,” Tim said quietly.
Marinette stopped speaking.
“It wasn’t enough.”
They squeezed him tighter.
She spoke some more. The only word he could make out was “Sorry.”
~
Marinette stared at the giant banner celebrating both her and Tim’s success.
It didn’t feel like a success.
She glanced around as much as she could in the giant scarf her mother had bundled her up in. People weren’t doing anything, weren’t coming up and apologizing or even just saying hi.
She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and looked up, expecting Tim.
Instead she found that the arm was attached to Bernard. He grinned widely, giving her a little squeeze. “And here I thought I was going to have to pick between the two of you.”
Ali smiled. “Nice one.”
“Tim will be here in a few minutes. He’s been staying at my house since Saturday but he didn’t have any uniforms there, so –.”
“Didn’t ask about him.”
Bernard grinned. “But now I am. He’s been staying at your place?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Marinette scoffed. Pushed him off. “Shut up. It’s not like that.”
“It so is,” Ali said.
Marinette opened her mouth to respond, but then she heard someone yell for her. She turned to look at Tim. His uniform was largely hidden by the giant overcoat Marinette’s dad gave him so he wouldn’t get frostbite again. He looked dumb, she thought, pressing her lips together thinly to hide the smile that was threatening to make its way across her face.
“It is,” Bernard agreed with Ali.
“Oh, screw off, I hate both of you.”
~
Tim smiled as Marinette wrapped him in a tight hug. The both of them were sweaty and gross and could hardly breathe but they had won! This season’s soccer championship trophy was theirs!
Marinette was squealing into his ear and he couldn’t seem to let go but neither of them cared about their impending deafness nor the lack of oxygen.
Marinette pulled back, her eyes bright.
“I’m keeping the trophy,” she said.
He scoffed. “You are not. I saved all of the stuff to keep us from losing!”
“But I was the one that scored all the stuff that got us to win!”
“It’s mine –.”
“No, shut up, it’s mine –.”
They were cut off when their hug was joined by another person: Bernard came crashing into them, nearly sending them toppling over. And then there was Ali. And Sabine.
They actually did start to fall when Sabine got to them, but it was thanks to Tom that they didn’t hit the ground. He wrapped his arms around them and picked them all up, legs swinging as they left the safety of the ground in favor of the safety of his arms.
Marinette and Tim met eyes in the center of the group hug.
They smiled at each other. Tim tipped his head back so she could tuck her face into his neck. He could feel her elated laughter and her nails digging into his back. He squeezed back, smiling brightly.
~
It was the night of the play.
Marinette hesitated.
She pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
Tim blushed, smiling as he brought a hand to rest over the spot. “What was that for?”
She pressed her lips together. “Luck.”
His face, somehow, reddened further.
“Well, if that’s for luck…” he started, his voice pitching upwards with nerves. He leaned down and kissed her. It was short, their lips had barely brushed, but it was more than enough to make her brain fuzz so much it was hard to catch the rest of his sentence: “... then that should have been even more lucky, huh?”
Marinette stared at him with wide eyes for a few moments and he started to take a step back.
But then she was grabbing the front of the dumb cape that he was wearing and pulling him down for a longer kiss.
- Art, fics, headcanons, incorrect quotes, whatever, all accepted.
- Tag this blog and Timari January in the tags (in case the blog notification doesn’t work).
- If you’re putting your work on AO3, please add it to the TimariJanuary2022 collection there so people can find it easier.
- It can be romantic, platonic, or familial Timari
- The prompts are more of a guideline. The purpose of the event is to encourage more Timari works so if you create a Timari work and tag the blog (or use the Timari January tag) we’ll repost it
- If you have NSFW content, put it under the Read More line and tag it appropriately.
- Have fun and don’t stress
Thanks to @verymuchimmortalcat for the artwork and everyone who helped with the prompts!
