#shutterbug fluff

[official-timari-server]

Welcome to the Timari Servers first Live Event

Shutterbug Station

There are two teams, Angst v. Fluff, and only you all can decide who shall be the true victor.

On each day a prompt will be revealed that corresponds with either Angst or Fluff depending on the day. Your goal is to create something that fulfills the prompt!

Trauma Train Tuesdays are dedicated to Angst prompts while Fluff Freight Fridays are for Fluff with some bonus prompts sprinkled in!

We’re aware full calendars can be daunting and too much for people so this gives people a chance at a break while also keeping them on their feet when the day arrives for their prompt to be revealed and gives them time to complete their prompts.

Choose which team you wish to support (you are allowed to join both), make content for them, and post! If you post it on the day their prompt is revealed, you’ll get an additional 5 points.

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• While we are a Timari Server and would love more Timari content, we are aware of the constraints of that and absolutely support other pairing submissions

• Any creative works are accepted

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(M for Maribat)

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[raeuberprinzessin]

A Slice in the Life of the Boyfriend of the Daughter of the most eccentric Billionaire's Family of the northern Hemisphere (or The Day Felix arrived late, met his Girlfriend's Brothers and didn't get to drink his Tea)

Summary: Meeting your girlfriend's family is never exactly easy.

AO3 | Masterlist

Meeting your girlfriend's family is never exactly easy. But if your girlfriend is the long lost and only recently found daughter of the probably most eccentric billionaire in the northern hemisphere and has a gaggle of siblings who sounded absolutely crazy from the things she mentioned casually alone, meeting the family wasn’t just an awkward event. Felix felt like an emissary of an ancient kingdom being sent into enemy territory to propose an alliance which would ask the enemy kingdom to give up their most-beloved treasure.

But being a Graham de Vanily meant not to be intimidated by anyone. Not by his uncle in his disturbing villain costume, not by a crime-ridden city and it’s just as crazed rogues and vigilantes, not even by Marinette’s temper. She rarely lost it, but if she did, he really didn’t want to be in her way. She was just as creative with torture as she was with her designing and if he was really honest with himself, he was absolutely intimidated by her, even if he wouldn’t ever admit it. 

He felt this shouldn’t count. She was Ladybug! Freaking everyone was intimidated by Ladybug! At least everyone who saw that one video in which she verbally took apart the Justice League for getting involved without coordinating with the heroes of Paris and almost costing them everything. They were lucky Red Robin and his team warned them and helped them with a plan to counter the adult heroes. He would never forget the way Nightwing looked like a plucked chicken after she was done with them.

At least something good came out of this: With the Titans they gained allies with a serious disregard for boundaries and they were able to learn that his uncle was the weirdo whose hobby it was to possess teenagers and meddle in their petty teenage dramas. Well, he was glad. Had he chosen competent people the heroes would have had a harder time defeating him. Felix wished he could say he was as surprised by his uncle’s hobby as his cousin was, but the truth was that it made too much sense. Honestly, he felt slightly offended to be related to that man, even if it was through the marriage of his aunt.

At least today he would only meet the family’s butler, four of her five brothers and her father. Her foster brother Duke and her sister Cassandra were unavailable.

His chauffeur finally arrived at the gate to the Wayne property. On the way there from the high-class penthouse he and his mother rented for their stay - they were debating finding a more permanent residence, since Marinette would spent a lot more time here and his mother fell in love with the architecture and wanted to make at least one movie here - he had felt like every single traffic light had turned red just as they got there which meant he wasn’t a bit early or perfectly on time. No. He was late. His father had taught him the importance of punctuality. “Being on time is being late,” Gustav Graham de Vanily always said, “but at least you’re technically on time so you might be forgiven if you apologize. But it’s always better to be a few minutes early. But don’t be too early, that’s just as impolite as being too late. Always plan with some spare time, you can always wait outside until it would be acceptable for you to ring the bell. And if you still can’t make it, at least call!”

Well, his father probably didn’t expect that an angry Poison Ivy would rip up almost all streets between his penthouse and Bristol just as he got into the car. Neither would he expect the traffic lights to conspire against him. At least he did call ahead and talked to the Butler, Mr. Pennyworth, who seemed understanding, but also sounded very reserved. Obviously a fellow englishman.

When the car stopped in front of the imposing manor Felix took a moment to take a deep breath and make sure he looked presentable and that his kwami Krrah was still carefully hidden inside his waistcoat. The crow wanted to come along, so they could hang out with the other kwamis in Marinette’s room.

Then he took the flower bouquet he brought as a hospitality gift. Marinette had told him how much pride Mr. Pennyworth took in his cooking and baking and he knew from her parents in Paris that in this case bringing any food would be inappropriate.

Mr. Pennyworth, at least Felix assumed it was him, had already opened the door and watched as he walked up the steps to the entrance.

“Mister Graham de Vanily, I suppose?”

Felix gave him a polite smile and offered a handshake which the butler took after a moment. “Indeed that’s me, Felix Graham de Vanily. Am I correct in assuming that you are Mr. Alfred Pennyworth?”

“You are. May I take your coat? The flowers would be for Miss Marinette?”

“Oh no, they are for the family. Marinette let me know that it would be quite the faux pas to bring anything edible as a hospitality gift,” Felix answered. He has always been quite observant, so he noticed the tiny twitch in the older man’s face. A faint almost smile. He decided to see this as success.

“Very well, then I shall find a suitable vase in just a moment. Please follow me and take a seat in the sitting room, I will inform the family of your arrival.”

The butler took his coat, put it away and offered him a pair of house slippers. After that he led him to a tastefully decorated room to wait for his hosts. He asked him if he could offer him anything to drink and Felix gratefully accepted a cup of Earl Grey tea.

“Psst, Felix!”

Felix looked around before he looked down his waistcoat into the beady black eyes of his kwami.

“I’ll go and find the other kwamis and tell your girlfriend that you’re here,” Krrah declared in a croaky voice. Felix gave them a tiny nod and then acted as if he was checking his appearance again.

When he looked back up a steaming cup of tea stood in front of him. When did that appear? Hopefully after Krrah got away. He very deliberately did not check on his tie pin to make sure it was still there. If someone actually had seen everything, that would give too much away. Instead, he adjusted his cuffs and checked his cufflinks. After that he decided to reach for the tea.

Only for it to be snatched out of his hand. He blinked in surprise and turned in the direction the hand had come from. There stood a dark haired teen roughly his age with icy blue eyes and an exhausted smile. In one hand he held the cup of tea, the other held up a struggling kid by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving kitten. The image was surprisingly fitting especially when the kid started to hiss insults at the teen, calling him “Drake”.

“I’m so sorry for him,” Drake apologized. “Damian likes to play pranks and this time he seemed to think putting some sleeping pills in your tea would be funny.” At that the boy hissed again and resumed his struggles.

“It is my duty as her only true blood brother to defend Marinette,” Damian declared.

“May I ask what the meaning of this is?” a cool voice came from the door. There stood Mr. Pennyworth with another steaming cup of tea. His right eyebrow rose as he observed the picture that presented itself to him. “Master Timothy, would you please let Master Damian down?”

Timothy sighed and set the child down. Damian gave him a calculating look and then a small knife stuck in the upholstery next to him and Timothy restrained the boy once more.

“Alfred, I would love to let go of Damian, but he doesn’t seem to know how to behave in front of a guest,” Timothy told the butler. “I’ll bring him to Bruce. I’m sorry about the upholstery.”

With that he left and Mr. Pennyworth placed the cup of tea in front of him with a sigh.

“Please excuse the young master. Regrettably he hasn’t had the most healthy upbringing.”

“It’s not my place to voice any judgment,” Felix replied. It didn’t stop him from thinking such judgment, of course. But instead of saying anything else he pulled the knife out and gave it the butler. “Would you please return this to its owner?”

The man nodded and left again. Felix turned back to the tea when the cup was, again, snatched away. This time he couldn’t suppress a twitch at his eyes and turned again to the person who took the beverage this time.

How this tank of a man was able to come in without making any noise Felix had no idea. The man had unruly, curly black hair. The white streak at the front brought to mind the image of a skunk.

“Hm, Earl Grey. To be honest, I prefer any green tea, but it’s good to have another tea drinker here. There are already too many bean worshippers in this house,” the man declared and gave him a roguish grin. “The name’s Jason Todd and you’re obviously pixie pop’s arm candy?”

“Arm candy, that’s a new one. Especially since those I know agree that everyone pales next to Marinette. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Jason. I am Felix Graham de Vanily.” He offered the man his hand for a handshake and suppressed a wince when that handshake turned out to be a bit more forceful than expected.

“Ah, Felix was it? I have a very serious question for you Felix,” another voice came from the door. Once more a young man with black hair stepped into the room. He grinned good-naturedly, but there was a dangerous glint in his dark blue eyes that had Felix immediately on edge.

“Tell me … what’s your favorite cereal?”

Taken aback Felix only blinked at the man. Jason next to him burst into peals of laughter.

“Cereal?”

“Yes, cereal.”

Felix didn’t know if he was serious or not. “Actually, I don’t eat cereal.” The man gasped as if he had just insulted all his ancestors.

“Then what do you eat for breakfast or as a late night snack?”

“Well, for breakfast I usually eat a boiled egg and toast with jam, marmalade or honey. And I rarely eat a late night snack, but if I get hungry between meals I prefer a greek yogurt with honey, nuts and fruit or simply an apple if I don’t want to put as much work into it,” he explained confusedly. It seemed Marinette’s family was even weirder than she had told him.

“Oh, Felix boy, sounds like you are much too healthy and sane for this family,” Jason cackled.

“I tried to warn him,” he heard Marinette say from behind the cereal-obsessed man. “In or out Dick, but don’t stand around in the doorway.”

The man going by the unfortunate name of “Dick” sighed and stepped inside. Behind him Marinette came in and gave him one of her beautiful smiles. That’s all he needed to remember why he was doing this.

“Hello Marinette,” he greeted as he stood up to come over to her. Marinette grinned, pulled him in and pressed their lips together. After the kiss swallowed his surprised (and plainly undignified) squawk he returned the kiss gently. The two men in the room made noises of discomfort but he realized this was part of why Marinette did it when she grinned into the kiss.

When they pulled back his wonderful, beautiful, brilliant girlfriend smirked at her brothers.

“Remember, I am French, I have absolutely no problem kissing my boyfriend in front of you or dad whenever any of you step out of line. And I can’t imagine Felix disliking my idea of punishing you, do you?”

He shook his head and gave her a conspiratorial grin.

“My lips are at your service, my queen.”

[velveteenshadow]

Calico's Candy Quartz

Adrien: Roy Roy: Turns around Adrien: down on one knee Roy: silently freaking out Adrien: pulls out ring pop Adrien: Will you make me the h- Roy: No Adrien: does the saddest face ever Roy: I want you to leave the ring pop out of this Adrien: Did I pick the wrong flavor... Roy: facepalms Roy: No, sweetheart. It's not that. Adrien: Then what is i- Roy: gets down on one knee Roy: It's because it does not match yours. Adri- Adrien: scoops up Roy in his arms Adrien: Yes, I will marry you Roy. Now take my ring. Roy: smiles and accepts

Bonus Scene: A Sticky Situation

Adrien and Roy: hugging after ring exchange Roy: Stay with me a little longer. This is nice. Adrien: I think you're stuck with me. Adrien: goes eerily quiet Roy: What did you do... Adrien: Actually, it wasn't me this time Roy: What do you mean? Adrien: deadpan Adrien: The uh ring pop is stuck in my hair Roy: blinks Roy: Well shit. Not the first sticky situation I thought we would have. Adrien: Cut it out. Roy: Okay, if you say so Adrien: starts trying to move but can't from the pop Roy: Full smirk as he pulls out pocket knife

Incorrect Quote (plus bonus so 2 for 1) for Shutterbug Station 2024! Prompts Used: "I want you to leave", "Stay with me a little longer"

[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!

[its-maemain]

Fluff Day 3: “Hey now. I never said we had to get married. I’d just like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 47

First

Previous

Marinette calmly packed her bag to go home, putting everything in their designated places in the neatest way possible. She wasn’t particularly neat herself, and honestly she found it a little difficult to get things out when they were organized in that way, but damn if she was going to get judged. She was a good personal assistant, she wasn’t going to let people see her be disorganized in her private life.

“Marinette?”

She glanced up at Bruce, raising an eyebrow. “If you want to give me another assignment, I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Tim hacked my email and I literally cannot access any work stuff outside of 9-6.”

Bruce opened his mouth to say something, a complicated expression on his face, and then he seemed to disregard the thought with a shake of his head. “It wasn’t really about work. It’s about the time off you scheduled for Hanukkah –.”

“Sir,” she groaned. “You already promised to take those days off, too. I can’t afford to spend my entire vacation making sure the company doesn’t keel over. I wouldn’t have time to make latkes and Dami would cry.”

“That’s…” He cleared his throat. “I was inviting you and your family to celebrate one of the days with me.”

She blinked once. Twice.

Oh. That was a lot less terrifying, somehow. Like, sure, she was already exhausted at the prospect of dealing with the man’s eccentricities during her break, but after he had accidentally made her think about all the things he could do to the company if she was gone for a week (for the second time this year), she found herself not all that put off at the idea of spending a day with him.

Besides, the man was rich. Damian deserved so much stuff for Christmas.

“I’ll ask Tim, but we should be able to do that, I guess.”

~

To say Tim was a little stressed as they rolled up to Wayne Manor would be… quite an understatement.

As usual, the gate swung open and he steered his bike inside, and yet it felt so different. There were arms around his waist and a child tucking his face behind his knee to hide himself from the wind. He didn’t veer off the path and through the bushes to the secret entrance. He wasn’t there because he was invited, but because his girlfriend was.

Because his girlfriend was the one to be on the weird adoption pipeline that apparently every iteration of Bruce Wayne had.

And that in itself was enough to make his hands clammy in his leather gloves.

But. On top of that. They were about to face the ultimate test:

Making sure Alfred Pennyworth didn’t suspect anything off about them.

Yeah, no, they were screwed.

From the moment Tim had dismounted his bike to help Marinette and Damian off the bike, he could feel eyes trained on his back. He kept his face purposefully relaxed as he took off his helmet and shook out his hair.

Marinette wasn’t as stressed. She didn’t have that many stakes in this, Bruce and his family hadn’t noticed anything off about her yet – and, besides, she hadn’t known the Bruce from their original reality, so slipping up wasn’t all that likely for her.

Damian wasn’t stressed, either. For obvious reasons. He tugged on Marinette’s hand, trying to force her to go explore the house with him because the garage, while opulent, was not nearly interesting enough for a young child.

Marinette grinned and slumped against the bike, bringing her free hand up to press against her forehead, as if she were feeling faint. “Oh no! Gravity! It has come to claim me! What ever shall I do? I can not go with you!”

Damian’s mouth dropped open in offense. He gave Tim a look that screamed ‘are you seeing this?!’

Tim snorted, temporarily distracted. He shrugged his shoulders. “It is what it is,” he told Damian somberly.

Damian managed to look more offended.

He grinned at his kid. “Fine, fine, I’ll help.”

He took the hand from Marinette’s forehead and pulled. Damian ‘helped’ as best he could, his little face reddening with effort as he dug his sneakers into the ground and tugged at her. She smiled a little as she was ‘forced’ to stand.

Tim grinned, lacing their fingers together. “C’mon, I wanna see if they have an indoor pool.”

He wanted to see how much had changed.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “They have three,” she informed him.

Well, that hadn’t.

But, as Marinette dragged him along to show him to the nearest pool (or, at least, to try to, they were definitely going to get sidetracked by Damian at least once), Tim happened to meet Alfred’s gaze just before he disappeared through the door.

And, in that instant, Tim knew, for he had seen this expression on the man’s face several times before:

Alfred could tell something was up.

~

Marinette and Alfred usually got along. They both preferred it when Bruce’s life wasn’t a mess. Admittedly, this was for different reasons (Marinette didn’t want anything to go wrong PR-wise, Alfred had lots of genuine affection for Bruce), but it was still a common goal.

Now, Marinette wasn’t at work. Now, their goals didn’t align.

Now, they were in a baking competition.

Was it official? No. From the nervous glances being sent their way by the Waynes and the Dupain-Chengs alike, they weren’t even going to get judges.

However. Did they care? Also no.

After all, their families were going to eat. Both she and Alfred were very aware of the fact that no one else was to be trusted in a kitchen, that they weren’t going to starve themselves, that they weren’t going to order takeout when there was food right in front of them. Which meant there was a way for them to tell what people liked best: watch to see what got eaten the most.

Their smiles were stuck on their faces. It looked vaguely unpleasant. If the people in this world had known about the Joker, then their expressions would be compared to that, but the man didn’t exist here so it was instead described as being like ‘something out of a psychological horror movie’.

Alfred kept his eyes on the food he was frying. “I have far more experience in this field, Madame Dupain-Cheng, are you sure you don’t want to leave the cooking to me?”

Translation: I’m better than you, dumbass, give up.

Jason had started biting his fingernails.

Marinette hummed lightly and only just refrained from dumping flour into the dough she was making haphazardly enough to create a dust cloud that would take the old man out for sure. She took solace in the fact that she knew she could do better than him, in both baking and being passive aggressive. She had grown up in akuma Paris, she knew how to give out thinly-veiled insults like candy on Halloween. “Don’t you think you should leave such big feasts to someone like me? Surely, you should be resting.”

Translation: fuck off, you old bitch.

Tim drummed his fingers on his arm.

Alfred’s smile didn’t waver. He did, however, cut the brisket he was making with a little more fervor.

Their families retreated to the far corner of the room to whisper among themselves. It seemed urgent.

Marinette tipped her head to the side, pausing in folding flour into her challah batter while she waited for the rugelach to bake. “Hey, don’t you think it’s a little rude to talk about people behind their backs… right in front of them?”

“Yes, Madame Dupain-Cheng,” Alfred said. “I think they should share with the class.”

Their families looked like they would rather flunk.

And then Damian, master genius and the person that had practically patented manipulating people, tugged on Marinette’s pant leg.

“Oh, hey, Dami,” she said, starting to reach down and pat his head only to realize that doing that while baking for someone that wasn’t her family was unhygienic.

Tim looked down frantically, suddenly realizing that he had lost the child. He mumbled a quiet prayer that he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire.

“What’s up?” She asked, setting down her spatula and leaning down, hands on her knees, to get closer to his eye level.

Damian smiled and reached for her. “Wanna help!”

Marinette tipped her head to the side thoughtfully for a moment before smiling and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She picked him up and sat him on the counter. “Do you remember when I taught you how to knead dough?”

Damian’s face scrunched thoughtfully. Then, he shook his head.

Marinette smiled and dumped the dough out of the bowl. “Then how about I do it again?”

Every person in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Marinette was forfeiting for the kid. Situation neutralized.

Damian watched with rapt attention as Marinette showed him how to knead dough.

Tim walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a tiny kiss to her shoulder. “So, you just beat it into submission?”

She rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Terrible way to put it, but yes.”

He snickered against her skin, and the pair of them watched their kid struggle to work the dough in a quiet, fond silence.

~

Sometimes, Tim found himself forgetting what Bruce and Dick were like when he first met them.

He had always assumed that it was Jason’s death that had made them so distant and cold towards each other. What else could it have been? After all, as Tim took up more and more of Jason’s roles, they began to settle down and come to an understanding.

But now, as he watched Dick and Bruce shout at each other over the dinner table (while Alfred quietly cleared up plates in a way that spoke to the normalcy of this), he remembered Jason’s years as Robin. Nightwing had stormed off to Bludhaven, and there were rumors that Dick Grayson hadn’t talked to his dad since he had moved out.

He’d thought that was impossible. After all, they were the Dynamic Duo. Sure, they had their rough patches, but this was…

Well, this was none of Tim’s business, frankly. Tim wasn’t the same kid he had been when he had first started stalking the bats, he wasn’t nearly as optimistic, nor was he blinded by hero worship anymore. Even if he had been, this wasn’t his Bruce and Dick. They didn’t even know him outside of the fact that he was Marinette’s husband. He was set to leave this world in just over ten years, and they wouldn’t care in the slightest. So, neither should he.

Except…

He sighed and gently combed his finger through Damian’s hair. The kid had tucked his face into his arm the moment the screaming had started.

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor loud enough to draw both of the men’s attention, if only temporarily.

“Hey, guys, not during the holidays, okay?” He said. He knew Damian was listening, knew that the kid wouldn’t take kindly to being seen as ‘weak’ or ‘scared’, so he settled for giving a pointed glance to the kid that was clutching his shirt desperately.

The anger burning in their eyes went out instantly. Tim wasn’t sure what had kindled it in the first place, one moment they had been eating and the next they were screaming their heads off. But it was over with now, and that was all that mattered.

Dick took a careful step away from his adoptive father, his hands unclenching, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. Right. Holiday spirit and all that…”

“Yes. Sorry for this,” Bruce said, his gaze finding its way to the window.

It was quiet for a solid minute.

And then Dick clapped his hands together once, a smile in place. “Let’s go into the other room, it’s not Hanukkah without some TV. Bruce, why don’t you help Alfie with the dishes while we get everything set up?”

The man made his way to the door immediately, apparently glad to have permission to disappear. Maybe he wasn’t that different from Tim’s Bruce after all.

Dick ran a hand through his hair, seemingly steeling himself, and then started leading Tim through the house. Tim hugged his kid close as he walked, his fingers combing through his curls in hopes of grounding him.

“Where’re Jason and Marinette?” Dick asked, glancing around.

“They snuck away to go and get Frank.”

Dick raised an eyebrow.

“Our dog.” He felt a tiny tug on his shirt and had to fight off a sigh of relief. At least the kid was still present enough to protest. “Or, well, Dami’s dog.”

Damian nodded once against his chest and then pressed himself closer, as if he thought that, if he just tried hard enough, he might be able to be absorbed by his kinda-dad-kinda-brother.

Tim pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Dick looked away. “I’m… I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry means nothing after someone’s been hurt, you just have to try not to do it again,” Tim said, giving a terse smile as Dick opened a door for him.

He glanced around the living room. It was the main one back in his reality, and it seems to be the same way here, but it was strange to see it looking like this. In his reality, it had been full of pictures of his family. And, here, it was the same, but gone were the pictures of Cass and Damian, of Steph, of Duke. Of Tim. Gone was the painting they had put up to hide a hole that had been punched into the wall during a playfight. Gone were the bins under the TV labeling what games and consoles belonged to who.

He sunk into a couch and adjusted Damian on his lap to hug him more firmly. Dick faffed around for a bit, touching pillows and messing with the remote uncertainly, until he made the decision to go over to the fireplace.

He squinted at it for a moment before shrugging and tossing a block of wood in, and then he started up a lighter.

But a solid twelve attempts later (marked by the quiet shck of the lighter every time), there was nothing.

Tim was fighting off his amusement. Dick’s face was already red enough from embarrassment, and he didn’t know the man enough to openly make fun of him here.

Thank god he had a kid that could do it for him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a grownup?” Damian said and, though his face was still tucked away in Tim’s chest, Tim could practically hear the disgust in his voice.

And it was unfortunate that Damian was pressed so close, because this meant that the kid could feel the way he trembled with the effort to not to laugh. Or cry in relief. Apparently, the way to get Damian out of a funk was to be so hopeless the kid forgot what he was upset about. Good to know. Also objectively hilarious and on brand.

Dick set the lighter down, now so red it looked like he was going to pop.

But God must have been on his side – in a giving mood for Hanukkah, it seems – because Marinette and Jason chose that exact minute to walk in, Frank at their heels.

In seconds, Frank had darted across the room and came to settle beside Damian, her nose snuffling at his clothes.

Damian giggled a little and tried to bat the curious nose away, but Frank was an unstoppable force and he was pulled just far enough away for Frank to settle her head on the kid’s lap.

The kid blinked down at his dog for a few moments before giving a watery little laugh. He started stroking his dog’s head, his eyes lighting up when she licked one of his hands.

The adults in the room shared quiet, relieved smiles. Jason and Marinette did a tiny fistbump.

The kid would be alright.

~

Marinette and Damian hung back awkwardly as the Waynes went about preparing to light the candles. She had sat herself down on the floor, the kid in her lap and her arms wrapped around him loosely, and her chin atop his head.

And then Damian squirmed in her lap.

She drew back, raising an eyebrow at the kid, and he wordlessly pointed to the menorah.

She blinked once and looked up, then tipped her head to the side. “You… want to join them this year?” She asked hesitantly.

Damian nodded firmly.

She exchanged mildly concerned glances with her boyfriend.

It wasn’t that Tim and Marinette didn’t want to introduce Damian to their religions, they would have been perfectly happy to do so if he was actually their child, but the original Damian had been raised Muslim. It felt wrong to change that. They had been reading up on what they were supposed to do pretty much since the beginning. Thankfully, most of the stuff required of Muslims weren’t things that needed to be done right away, so they had figured they would have time to research and prepare…

But he was young,  and he was expressing interest (or, at least, curiosity), and they didn’t know what to do. They were perfectly happy to entertain the kid’s questions no matter how ‘dumb’ or ‘stupid’, but now they wondered if it was moral to answer him when the questions were like this.

After quite a bit of thought and hesitation, Marinette slowly rose to her feet to go join them. They would have to start introducing Damian to Islamic beliefs once Hanukkah was over.

But, for now, she set Damian on the windowsill beside the menorah – she trusted him to not touch the fire – and quietly bowed her head with him to join the Waynes in prayer.

If nothing else, teaching him to respect and understand other religions was a must.

~

Gift giving was… an experience.

There were several near-breakdowns by the time the night was over. But y’know. Tis is life or whatever.

But he’s getting ahead of himself. Let him go back and explain.

Marinette had been surprised enough that the Waynes had a) remembered that she had mentioned that their family combined Hanukkah and Christmas into a holiday when she had only mentioned it offhand once and b) gone through the effort to get a tree in place. That in itself was almost enough to make her a sobbing mess. It was so strangely thoughtful, so heartwarming that they had remembered that Tim had had to take her aside for a minute to collect herself.

But what she saw next was enough to make her jaw drop:

As they approached the tree, she began to realize just how many presents there were. Hell, even Tim was mildly surprised to find all this stuff there.

“Rich people,” Marinette said, and for once there wasn’t that much disdain to be found in the phrase.

Tim snickered and came to rest his chin on her shoulder. “Rich people,” he agreed, grinning lightly. “Get used to it, you’re practically joining the family now.”

She blushed and gently pushed his face away. “You’re annoying.”

“Yeah. I am. But you love me anyway.”

She hummed a little in quiet agreement, but their attention was quickly dragged away. Because Damian was tugging at the hems of their shirts insistently, trying to get them to move closer to the tree so he could start opening his (apparently) many, many presents.

Tim smiled to himself as they found a place to sit, the fireplace warming their backs (Jason had set it, Dick was too embarrassed to try again).

Damian started literally tearing through the presents. It turns out that Marinette, apparently, talked about both Damian and Tim a lot at work – she had tucked her face into his shoulder to hide her blush there when Bruce had told them about it – and they had had a lot to work with.

Tim ended up getting a camera. He was pretty sure it was a slightly new model of the one that his Bruce had bought for him a few years prior and the comparison nearly sent him into his own fit of tears. Which he had no explanation for.

Thankfully, no one questioned him on it. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to lie and pull The Dead Parents Card in this scenario.

As for the Waynes… Marinette and Tim had gone for more heartfelt things than expensive ones, because there was no way that they could find something for them that they both a) wanted and b) didn’t already have. The pains of buying for rich people. You have to think.

In the end, Tim had helped scrounge up old footage of the Flying Graysons and given a flash drive's worth of stuff to him (which had added to the many near-breakdowns of the day), Marinette had found a first edition book for Jason…

And then they had gotten a planner for Bruce. Because they wanted to be passive aggressive. At least the design on the front of it – a Wayne family photo – was cute.

Frank had been given a couple of toys. How the Waynes had known ahead of time that Frank was going to be showing up to enjoy them, Tim didn’t know, but he would bet money on Alfred. He would also bet money that it was Jason that chose the specific toys, because it had only been a few minutes and Tim was already grinding his teeth to ignore the squeaking of the smiling cactus in Frank’s mouth.

Damian got… everything else. Which included things like stuffed animals and coloring books, but also a couple of actual books and a slew of movies and a game console that looked like it might be this reality’s version of a Switch and…

Tim breathed out a sigh. “God, it’s gonna take so many motorcycle trips to get that to our house…”

Which was how they found out what Marinette had gotten.

Because Bruce smirked and tossed her a set of keys.

Marinette caught them without thinking, and then seemed to think very hard about it, her lips just barely parting in surprise as she stared down at the shiny keys.

She looked up at them with wide eyes. Tim did the same.

“I… I don’t even have a driver’s license,” Marinette said. Which was true in this world. She had let it expire because it wasn’t worth bothering to get a new one when she didn’t have a car to drive.

Bruce shrugged, a tiny grin playing across his lips. “Then make yourself one. I know you can do that.”

Tim and Marinette fought to keep their expressions neutral and confused and... from the look on Alfred’s face, like something had been confirmed to him, it wasn’t working.

“You knew?” said Marinette, her voice a squeak.

Bruce nodded. “Pretty much since the moment you started working at my company.”

Tim suddenly remembered the multiple times Marinette had texted him talking about how Bruce was scrutinizing her. He had assumed it was just how he was when he didn’t have to hide himself behind Brucie in public, or that maybe it was about the promotion she eventually got.

But, no. Apparently he had noticed discrepancies.

Which was insane. Tim had made those fake IDs himself, and he had gotten Marinette to proofread everything, there shouldn’t have been any discrepancies.

And yet here they were.

Stupid rich people and their infinite money and resources. He now got why Marinette held mild disdain for them.

At least Dick smiled and waved off their fears. “Don’t worry, though, we won’t snitch on you.”

Jason sunk back in his recliner. “Yeah, you’re basically the new siblings –.”

Bruce sputtered. He was ignored.

“– and we wouldn’t do that to you. It’d be kinda shi –...” Jason glanced at Damian. The kid had already started on his first coloring book. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he worked, so he definitely wasn’t listening, but Tim and Marinette both broke out of their stupors enough to send warning glares regardless. “... messed up of us.”

Alfred smiled kindly at them. “What the witness protection program doesn’t know won’t matter, will it?”

It took a moment for the pair to process this. They continued to look at each other with wide eyes as they slowly put it all together.

… right. Another world. One without magic. Most people wouldn’t immediately jump to dimension hopping identity thieves.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. It would be interpreted as him just being glad that they wouldn’t be ratted out and not the realization that their secret was safe that it was.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “We appreciate the thought.”

~

Marinette smiled as she looked out over the room. A tiny nightlight that projected stars over the ceiling allowed her to just barely make out the forms of Damian and Frank, curled up together on the bed. She watched the slight rise and fall of their chests as they breathed for a minute.

And then she gently shut the door until it was open just a crack. In case Damian or Frank needed to come wake them up for a nightmare.

She smiled lightly as she made her way over to the room across the hall.

Tim was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone. He was in danger of dropping it onto his face, but she didn’t worry too much about it as she went about getting ready for bed.

Speaking of… the moment she hit the bed, she gasped.

“Holy fuck. We need to steal this thing,” she told him.

He snorted, letting his phone hand fall to the side. “Or we could just buy a better mattress.”

“You’re no fun. This is why no one likes vigilantes.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her as she began the usual process of tangling their limbs together, turning onto his side to make it a little easier.

This, of course, led to them both laying on their sides, facing each other, dopey smiles decorating their faces.

“You like vigilantes.”

“I sure do,” she agreed lightly, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.

~~~~~

Anyways since yall are here go vote for the maribat awards if you haven't already <3 I know the people who did it and they worked hard so https://href.li/?https://und.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_0SYpcyB7nGdQ9ka

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@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @queenz-z @imarivers8 @jeminiikrystal @adrestar @twsssmlmaa @literaryhiraeth @trippingovermyfeet @ev-cupcake @its-maemain

[maribat-media]

Maribat Media Poll Sunday #3

Maribat Month has arrived everyone!

For further information on the event, check out @official-timari-server! There are rules for submitting as well as a point system for the event. It is perfect for enjoyers and creators of Fluff/Angst.

Good luck to everyone creating for the event!

[the-coffee-fandom]

[gilbertscurls]

heyy girl first of alll your writing is the best and best writer here and your fluff is just AHHHH i really wait everyday for u to post so i got a request fans edit Chris and reader to no.1 party anthem sing by artic monkey mybe its edit of chris talking about her or anything ANDILOVEYOUU

omg you're so nice, i love you!!!! i hope you like it <3

Yapping ➵ Chris Sturniolo

The low hum of the city filtered through the cracked window, mingling with the faint sound of cars drifting up from the street below. You leaned back against the couch, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok as Chris's voice carried from the kitchen. He was rummaging through cupboards, probably looking for the last pack of his favorite snack, his faint mutterings punctuating the quiet.

It was the kind of lazy day where time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Your thumb swiped up the screen, passing by dance trends, funny memes, and cooking hacks, until something familiar caught your eye.

A video with the hashtag #SturnioloTriplets popped up on your For You page. It was one of those fan-made edits that you occasionally found yourself watching—clips of Chris, Nick, and Matt in their usual chaotic, fun-loving glory. You tapped on it, expecting a montage of their latest shenanigans.

But what you saw made your heart skip a beat.

The video opened with Chris sitting in front of the camera, a familiar setting that looked like the triplets' car. His usual animated self was present—his hands gesturing wildly, his face full of that vibrant energy he was known for. It was one of his “yapping” sessions, where he rambled on about anything that popped into his head. But today, instead of talking about a meme or some funny moment with his brothers, he was talking about you.

"Man, I don’t even know how to explain it," Chris was saying, his voice soft but filled with affection. "She just… she’s everything. Every day, she makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive. I mean, I never believed in fate or anything like that, but the second we met? It was like… I don’t know. It just clicked." He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression shifting to something far more sincere than his usual joking demeanor. "She makes me want to be better, you know? I’m just—I'm so in love with her."

Your heart melted at the sound of his voice, the raw sincerity in his words taking you by surprise. You had heard him say it before, but this… this felt different. As the clip played on, his face softened even more as he continued, "I don’t think she realizes how much she means to me. I could talk about her all day, but she’d probably just roll her eyes at me."

The screen flickered, and then, instead of just his words, the video transitioned into an edit. It was a soft montage of moments—your moments together. A collection of clips pulled from the triplets’ vlogs, his social media posts, and those little private, candid shots that had somehow made it into the public eye. There was a shot of you laughing together in the kitchen, your head thrown back, eyes sparkling as Chris pulled a goofy face. Another was of the two of you walking hand-in-hand, your fingers intertwined in a way that made everything around you feel quiet and still, just the two of you in your own world. There was a shot of you sitting next to him during one of their live streams, both of you leaning in close as he whispered something funny in your ear, making you laugh so hard you almost snorted.

The song lyrics echoed in the background, making the edit even more heartfelt.

It was a perfect blend of those little moments that spoke volumes—subtle, intimate, and filled with love. The video cut back to Chris, a soft smile on his face as he looked into the camera. "I don't think she knows it, but she’s my everything. And I’ll never stop saying that."

The look of love, the rush of blood

The "She's with me"'s, the Gallic shrug

The shutterbugs, the Camera Plus

The black & white and the color dodge

The good time girls, the cubicles

The house of fun, the number one

Party anthem

The video ended with his smiling face and a caption: “Chris Sturniolo, everyone’s favorite yapping sweetheart.” You sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, your heart doing flips in your chest. You had always known how much Chris loved you, but seeing it in this way? It made your chest tighten, a flood of affection and warmth rushing over you.

You looked up just in time to see Chris saunter back into the room, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asked, collapsing next to you on the couch, his arm slipping behind your shoulders. The scent of him—faint cologne and warmth—enveloped you.

“Just this,” you said, turning your phone towards him, the last frame of the edit paused on his face, mid-laugh.

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, and then that familiar, teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Oh, so you found it, huh? Yeah, I might’ve gone a little overboard that day.”

“No,” you whispered, leaning into him, feeling the beat of your pulse against his. “It was perfect.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was no screen, no city noise, no world outside the two of you. Just the number one party anthem playing between heartbeats.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove

[604to647]

🎵 Detective, It's Cold Outside 🎵

A The Rockford Portfolio Christmas Carol

Thank you for the lovely reception on Tiny Tim (A The Rockford Portfolio Christmas Special)! Your love for these two babies makes my heart grow three sizes 🥹 For them, I've written a Christmas carol companion for this fic sung to the tune of "Baby, It's Cold Outside"

Like others, in recent years, I've come to not love the original lyrics of the song quite as much (I've included both an original and updated version at the bottom of the post) but recently learned that the song was written by the songwriters to play as a signal for when they wanted guests to leave; that kind of passive aggressiveness nonsense I do kind of love 😂🤭.

In that spirit, consider the below to be sung when Timmy and Shutterbug are trying to leave the precinct holiday party and the other cops try to convince them to stay. The lines can be sung as: Pink - Shutterbug, Black - Detective Rockford, Blue - Tim's coworkers, Purple - Shutterbug & Timmy together

🎵 We really can’t stay

Baby, it’s cold outside

We’ve got to go away

Tiny Tim can’t hide

This evening has been

We’re so glad you dropped in

So very nice

We see why Rockford’s in paradise 🎵

🎵 Tim would really like us to hurry

Why?  It’s LA there are no flurries

Burns, why are you pestering my girl?

Oh hush, we know she’s your whole world

Both of you stay, it’s early

We’ll order martinis, dirty

Tim if you want, we’ll stay for one more?

The only company I need is yours 🎵

🎵 My Tim, you’re so sweet

Oh man, we’re gonna hurl

You were all lovely to meet

The bar is starting to swirl

That our cue to leave

Really, it’s been a treat

These cops behind

Thank you all for a wonderful time 🎵

🎵 Timmy, don’t let her go, go

I swear, this will to come to blows

At least, say what of Rockford you like

Alright, you guys need to take a hike

Oh, we really can’t stay

Okay, bah humbug

Baby, it’s cold outside 🎵

🎵 We simply must go

Don’t let Tim be so gruff

Lee, the answer is no

We see with you he’s all fluff

This welcome has been

Tim’s patience is wearing thin

So nice and warm

Back off guys, you’re starting to swarm 🎵

🎵 My detective is just protective

Makes sense from his perspective

There no one that I trust more

Shutterbug let’s head to the door

Your party has been so festive

You’re leaving us all so affected

She’s about to leave you wanting more

Good bye, see you on the precinct floor 🎵

🎵 Glad they let us go

Do you wanna walk home?

Can I give you my coat?

My love for you only grows

You’re really so grand

Please never let go of my hand

Baby don’t you see?

Detective you’re the one for me 🎵

🎵 They all say that you’re a hero

Bunch of drunk cops, what do they know

I think there’s truth to what was implied

What matters is I bring you some pride

I love you more everyday

Let me get us home

Baby, it's cold

Baby/Detective, it's cold outside 🎵

Hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays, bbs!

[ali-annals]

Stupid in Love

Pairing: Tim Drake x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T | WC: 2.3k | Ao3 | Summary:

Tim meets a competent new companion in his fight to make Ra's al Ghul's life hell. They just might be a match made in heaven (after all, Timari heaven is Ra's hell).

CW: Implied/Referenced Non-Consensual Drug Use, Mentions of Blood, PG-13 Kissing, Getting Tattoos

A/N: Finally got out of my writing slump to sprint this out for @official-timari-server Shutterbug Station's 2024 Angst vs Fluff war. Obviously, I'm on the side of Fluff. Inspired by Stupid in Love by MAX (ft Huh Yunjin) <3

Tim coughed, holding his sleeve over his nose and mouth as he attempted not to inhale the red smoke, fumbling in his utility belt for his rebreather. 

He stepped back, his back bumping into the stone wall of the cave he was currently stuck in. He twirled his bo staff with his free hand anxiously, peering through the ruby haze for any sign of the people he knew were surrounding him. 

His blood-slicked fingers finally found the small but essential piece of equipment and he hastily raised it to his face. Something rocketed past him, appearing from a previously-hidden exit right by his shoulder, causing him to drop the rebreather with an aggravated sigh. 

He coughed again, stooping to pick up the rebreather and fit it in his mouth. The cloud of the unknown gas slowly cleared and he blinked his watering eyes, sliding his feet into a defensive position. The assassins were taking an awfully long time to attack him, wasting the confusion that the haze would have provided while he was distracted getting his rebreather. 

A twinge of pain shot up his arm from a lucky slice an assassin had gotten in on him, the blood sluggishly dripping down his arm and making his grip on his staff slippery.

Tim shook his head, clearing his vision. Someone was fighting the assassins. At first glance, it appeared to be another assassin, clothed in black and swinging around a staff just like him, but their style of uniform was sleeker and had neon green accents.

Despite having the colour of the Lazarus Pits on them, Tim was sure they weren’t affiliated with the League he (and they) were currently fighting. 

They were ruthless yet precise in their movements, dispatching the assassins easily. Only a couple made it past them to attack him, and he easily took them out, renewed adrenaline and hope rushing through him at the obvious help the newcomer was currently providing. 

Whether he would have to fight them after the League assassins were done fighting the two of them was another question, but Future Tim could answer that. Current Tim was impressed with the fluidity of their moves as they knocked the last three out. 

They didn’t spare Tim a glance, striding determinedly down another pathway to an open room, the waters an eerie green. Ra’s al Ghul was there. Tim caught the look of surprise on the man’s face when Tim was not the first one to step out of the tunnel into the pool room.

Without so much as a stutter, the newcomer continued their stride across the rocky surface, jumping over the sword Ra’s raised, pinning him to the rock wall with one clawed hand. 

In the brighter room (courtesy of the Pit’s refraction), Tim could see that their uniform was reminiscent of Catwoman’s, though more practical and less sexy. He still found it attractive. 

Someone else pinning the pain in his ass to a wall (granted, said pain in the ass was smiling cockily and didn’t appear that concerned, but hey, he was still pinned to the wall; Tim would take what he could get); he was halfway in love as it was, not to mention their incredibly skilled moves and obvious self-assuredness. 

“Say bye-bye to your precious Pit,” they sneered, raising their fist to Ra’s face. A bubbling mass of black that gave Tim major Creepy:™: vibes formed in their fist.

It was then that Ra’s’s face became fearful. “No!”

“You’re too late to beg off of this, Ra’s,” they sneered. “The 1100’s called, they want their Pits back.”

The black bubbles hit the green liquid, fizzing ominously and causing a great cloud of green steam to fill the room. When the air cleared, all that was left was the empty rocky circle in the middle of the room, not a drop of liquid to be found anywhere.

The Catwoman-assassin person let go and Ra’s dropped to his knees, crawling to the rim of the now-desert pool. “NO!”

They scoffed and turned towards the pathway, where Tim still stood, a little confused and a lot in love. 

“Who are you?”

“Lady Noire,” they replied. “You can have him, if you want him,” they jerked their chin at the despairing assassin behind them. “I’m done, figured this would be more painful than death, but I don’t care if you finish him off.”

Tim blinked. “I don’t really kill, but thanks for the offer. How did you do that?”

“Destroy the Pit?” Lady Noire shrugged. “What, like it’s hard? I know who made it so I just reversed the process.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” he said. “Marry me?”

“Sure, why not.” They stepped forward, close enough he could make out feminine features and catlike Lazarus-green eyes, taking his hand. “You should probably get your injuries tended to first, though.”

“Good point.”

“You’re lucky I have extensive experience in patching people–mostly myself–-up,” Lady Noire said, leading him back through the trail of unconscious assassins to the fresh air of their mountainous surroundings. 

“Do you get hurt often?”

“Yep, I’m pretty clumsy.”

Tim struggled to comprehend that. “But…you’re amazing in a fight. As good as me with that staff.”

“Being good at fighting isn’t mutually exclusive from being a klutz,” they said.

Tim thought of Bruce. “You’re right. So, wanna take my plane to Vegas?”

“You were serious about the marrying you thing?”

“Yeah. You’re a great fighter, you have a secret identity, you’re enemies with Ra’s, we’re practically the same person. It’s clearly fate.”

They smirked. “Sure, Fate. Well, it’s not like I have anything to get back to and you’re pretty talented yourself and we get along well. Why not marry you?”

Tim removed the cloaking tech making the Bat-jet invisible and climbed in. “Coming?”

~~~

The flight from Nepal to Nevada only confirmed Tim’s thoughts that Lady Noire was perfect for him. She was a coffee addict like him, a child vigilante like him, a Ra’s hater like him, a bo staff prodigy like him, and more. They shared the same music taste and agreed on wacky conspiracy theories (or were they theories, if he had proof?).

“So, whose last name are we gonna take?” she asked, watching the cloud cover over Las Vegas come closer as he began their descent. “Mine’s already hyphenated, so we probably don’t want to add a third and-or fourth hyphen to that.”

“We can share mine,” he offered. “Unless you have some opinions about not taking your significant other’s name.”

“Not really, I can still continue my business under my maiden name, even if I change my initials after marriage.” Marinette shrugged. “Marinette Drake sounds nice to me.”

“It has a certain ring to it,” Tim agreed, coasting the jet to a stop in the middle of the desert surrounding the city. “Do you want to shop for rings together?”

“Sure, we can continue our date in the jewelry store.”

~~~

Marinette walked down the aisle to meet Tim and the Elvis impersonator officiating their wedding.

“Dearly beloved,” the officiant began, addressing Marinette, Tim, and the two wedding hall-supplied witnesses. Neither of them had wanted anyone specific at their wedding, agreeing that combining both of their friendgroups’ chaos would be too much.

“Could we skip straight to the ‘I Do’s?” Marinette asked.

Elvis nodded. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, do you take Timothy Drake to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” She smiled up at him, blue eyes sparkling.

“Timothy Drake, do you take Marinette Dupain-Cheng to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” He squeezed her calloused hand.

“Then by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

Their first kiss was short and sweet, the two breaking away with wide smiles. Once the papers were signed and witnessed, the new couple headed out with cheerful dispositions. 

“Where do you want to go to honeymoon?” Tim asked, rubbing his finger over the ring on his new wife’s hand.

“Paris,” she said immediately. “I haven’t been back in years and I want to see if it really is the City of Love.”

“Any city will be the city of love if you’re there,” he teased, taking great pleasure in seeing her blush. 

They made their way back to the Bat-jet, once again cloaked against curious eyes, and Tim charted the course to Paris. 

~~~

Marinette stopped on the street, pulling Tim back. “We should get matching tattoos!”

Tim considered it. “What type are you thinking?”

“Something small and simple, don’t worry,” she said, stepping into the tattoo parlour they’d paused in front of. “What if we drew each other a heart and did that?”

Tim nodded. “That sounds cute. Let’s do it.”

The tattoo artist accepted walk-ins, and once they proved they were both of age, quickly got them set up. 

Marinette’s perfectly symmetrical heart went on Tim’s left ring finger, where it could take the place of his ring when he had to take it off for work or vigilantism. 

Marinette got his slightly lopsided heart on her right ring finger, saying she didn’t want to cover it with her ring when she could look at it every day. 

The tattoos were small and they’d both faced worse pain almost every day, so their session ended quickly. 

They stepped into the sunny day, non-tattooed hand in hand, careful not to let their neatly-wrapped fingers touch. 

“I’m hungry,” Tim proclaimed. 

“I happen to know a lovely spot that gets rave reviews,” Marinette replied, swinging his hand between them. “Let’s go, lover boy.”

~~~

The blank face of Batman was only blank if you weren’t a Bat. Tim could read all the worry and confusion in his muscle tightness as soon as he opened the door to Marinette’s balcony. 

Wonder Woman stood behind Batman supportively.

Tim groaned. “You ratted me out to B on my honeymoon? I knew Paris wasn’t safe,” he tsked.

“Tim?” Marinette called, stepping out of the bathroom with her hair in a towel from her shower.

Wonder Woman’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were with Ladybug. Batman was worried. It’s been a week since you went off-grid, but Oracle was able to find the Bat-jet’s logs and see your last flight was here. What happened?”

“I met Lady Noire in Nepal and we hit it off and decided to get married. B, Marinette Drake. Mari, Batman.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Marinette, bumping Tim with her hip to get out of her way so she could meet her father-in-law. “Hi, Diana. Good to see you, if a little unexpected.”

“Marinette...Drake?” Batman looked between the couple slowly. 

“Yep, we got married in Vegas. I thought the paperwork would’ve gone through and pinged on the Batcomputer by now,” Tim said. “Anyways, you’ve seen everything’s chill here, so thanks for coming, we’ll be sure to see you soon, adieu.” He attempted to shoo Batman out of the way so he could close the door and escape back inside.

“Tim, you’re not acting like yourself.” Batman gripped his arm gently to stall him. “What happened to you in Nepal?”

“Nothing. We took out the assassins after us and Mari evaporated the Pit and then we got married in Vegas, keep up. It’s our honeymoon, we’re taking a break, we’re not in immediate danger. Relax,” Tim pushed Batman’s hand off of him. 

Batman caught his hand, staring at the tattoo on his finger, then looking to Marinette’s hand.

Before either of them blinked, Batman had a needle in Tim’s arm and was drawing blood.

“Hey!” Tim yelped. 

“We might as well prove we’re fine, right?” said Mari calmly, stroking down his other arm to entwine their fingers. “It’s not like we have anything to hide.”

“It’s not about hiding stuff, it’s the fact that B is an overbearing ass, but you’re right, it’ll get rid of him quicker.” Tim relaxed, squeezing her hand three times.

Marinette offered her arm to Batman to collect her blood as well, figuring compliance was the fastest way out of the situation. 

Once their blood was collected, Batman and Wonder Woman left and the couple headed back inside, Tim grumbling about Batman’s lack of faith in him.

~~~

Batman was once again on their balcony. Marinette sighed. “Tim, B’s here with our results!”

It was Tim’s turn to emerge from the shower, towelling his hair dry. “Cool,” he said flatly, opening the door. “So, come to apologize for doubting us, B?”

Batman didn’t move. 

Tim stared at him. 

Finally Batman stepped forward, offering a small stack of papers stapled together–their blood test results.

“There are lingering traces of inhibition lowering drugs in both of your systems.”

Tim thought back to the red cloud the assassins had released around him. “Oh.”

Marinette brushed against him. “We were drugged? But the suit protects me…”

“Ra’s was working with magic users recently,” Tim informed her glumly. “It’s what got me digging around the League this time.”

“Oh.”

Batman looked at the two of them awkwardly. “I have neutralizing pills you can take if you want.”

Tim took the baggie, feeling a little like a drug dealer and stepped back.

“Thanks, I guess. Bye, B.”

He closed the door on Batman, drawing the drapes so the snoop couldn’t spy on him and Mari. 

She coughed awkwardly. “So much for being fine, heh.”

He handed her a pill, popping one in his mouth and sipping from the coffee mug sitting on the desk. 

“We should probably wait to discuss this when we’re sure the drugs are out of our systems,” he suggested as she swallowed her own pill.

They sat in silence for an hour, lost in thought.

Finally, Tim deemed it good enough. “I don’t regret it. Maybe it was fast, but from the time we’ve spent together after it, I know I don’t regret it.”

Marinette shook her head. “Neither do I. It’s not like we were on sex pollen or anything, it was just an inhibition lower. I wouldn’t act any differently than I’ve done this past week except agreeing to date you instead of marry you. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll still date you. We’ve just solved the major relationship problems of ‘Do they like me?’ ‘Will they date me?’ ‘Will  they marry me?’ and now we can just grow our relationship.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Tim snorted. “But yes. We can just keep dating each other. Dates shouldn’t stop after you get married, anyways.”

“That’s the spirit!” Marinette leaned forward, dropping a peck on his cheek. “So, shall we go on a date?”

[official-timari-server]

Shutterbug Station Team Poll

[mae-dwrites]

Events

Featured: Jasonette July • Shutterbug Station • Mayday • Malachite Milestones

Links under the cut <3

Jasonette July 2022 (Ao3)

Aim

Target

Strike

Jasonette July 2024 (Ao3)

Misbehavin’ - D2 - R

Protector - D3 - R

Unsteady - D4 - P

One Thing Right - D10 - P

Home - D21 - R

From The Grave - D28 - P

Shutterbug Station 2024

Bonus Day 1: Meme - Chloé/Jason

Angst Day 1: Meme - Chloé/Jason

Angst Day 3: Meme - Chloé/Jason

Fluff Day 3: Meme - Alley Cat

Final Bonus Day: Fanfiction - Angst - Tim Drake & Zoé Lee

Final Angst Day: Fanfiction - Tim Drake & Zoé Lee

1 of 10 no prompt: Fanfiction - Angst - Zoé Lee/Jon Kent, Chloé Bourgeois, Damian Wayne

Mayday 2024 (Ao3)

Poem 1: Meet an Eclipse

Poem 2: Coffee Haven

Poem 3: More than a bump

Poem 4: Follow, My Life

Poem 5: The Night We Met

Malachite Milestones Event (Mae’s Version) 2024 (Ao3) (Wattpad)

Ring

Scratchy

Could we?

Shutterbug Scoops 2024 | Note: Cross-Submitted with the Malachite Milestones Event | (Ao3) (Wattpad)

Ring

Scratchy

Could we?

Summerween Special 2024 | (Ao3) (Wattpad)

B5 - Chapter 1 of Coffee Stains and Leaky Pens

C2 - Chapter 2 of Coffee Stains and Leaky Pens

Adribat October 2024 | (Ao3) (Wattpad)

Day 5 - Jack O’ Lanterns - fanart

Day 26 - Hot Beverages. - fanart

[pookiebeary]

HOWDY PARTNER!

Dion at your service.

He/Him, She/Her

My wife is @pookiebearyswifey (check her out, she draws ABSOLUTELY STUNNING ARTWORKS)

18+ (but forever a youth at heart)

I draw and write but I'm not very good at it :P

Current obsessions include: Dc, Marvel, Invincible, Spiderverse, a sprinkle of The Boys + PJO/HOO + Harry Pottah

Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

For easy Navigation:

Use the tag #pookiebeary for my art in general and #pookiebearyschildren #pookiebearyswife #pookieswifedraws for more specific things like my shared oc art with my wife, oc lores and self-inserts to the dc universe (note that some, if not most of the ocs are drawn by my lovely wife)

Miguel O'Hara (ATSV)

Moribund (Angsty)

Memoir pt 1 (Angst/comfort)

Memoir pt 2 (Fluff/comfort)

Memoir pt 3 (slight angst?)

Lover Boy Drabbles(Jason Todd Highschool AU)

Based on my Jason Todd fanart: this

Lover Boy: the beginning

Shutterbug (Tim Drake)

Based on my Tim Drake fanart: this

Shutterbug Drabble

Roy Harper (Young Justice)

Finale (Angsty)

Go Little Spider (Batfam)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[ao3feed-superbat]

From A Bat To A Bed Bug

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/FsKIWaB by Intercoursefluids Alfred noticed Bruce staying up far too late to work on a case and enlists Clark's help to force him to bed. Words: 552, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 7 of Shutterbug Event Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Mention of Bernard Dowd, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Established Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, POV Alfred Pennyworth, Alfred Pennyworth Ships It, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Minor Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake, Domestic Fluff, Bats forced to bed read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/FsKIWaB

[ao3feed-jaytim]

We slow danced in the kitchen to Bing Crosby for my Birthday

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50754142 by BlueShadeFics There is a shirt hung on their bedroom door that Jason can't remember seeing before. Words: 1609, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 6 of Shutterbug and Seaglass Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Hinted Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Female Tim Drake, Dead Body Mentioned, Mentions of Cancer, character with cancer, canon belongs in a blender, No beta we die like mne, Headcanons absolutely galore, Bruce Wayne's D- parenting mentioned, Damian Wayne's attitude problem mentioned, pointless fluff mostly, Post-Red Robin comics, other Batfamily members mentioned - Freeform read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50754142