7. biggest turn off(s) - arrogance, lies, problematic opinions, not being cute as fuq, and being judgemental

19. middle name - Catherine

10/10 INDEED

dick

9/10 

FOR DISLIKE YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT THAT LONDON STILL HASN’T HAPPENED YET

but also yeah my gayness appears when polly does ayoooo

If there was any logic to the way these things went then it should have happened after something dramatic. It should have had a backdrop of fire and blood and gunshots and explosions, not just explosions behind her eyes and fire in her blood. Maggie knew enough of love though to know that it wasn’t logical, and this… well it might not be love just yet but it was the closest thing to it that she’d ever felt. It filled her up everyday, he was all she could ever think about, she could wander the streets of Gothams broken shell and smell him on the wind, his warmth and his safety flying past her on an icy breeze. He was everywhere, all around her, all the time and if that wasn’t love then… well, then she didn’t know what was. But in all of the books she’d read (and Maggie was definitely a fan of books) and all the movies she’d ever seen (and Maggie was DEFINITELY a fan of movies) it had never happened like this.

The hero and the heroine, that’s what they were when she looked at it logically. They were on the side of good, of right, of saving people who didn’t deserve this to happen, or if they couldn’t do that then at least alleviating their struggles. They were good, and even beneath all the anger that he held and all the silent thoughts locked away in her heavy head they were both pure. So that made them, irrevocably, the hero and the heroine. At least of their story. And everything she had ever known pointed her towards the hero kissing the heroine after something big and dramatic had happened, after a plot point had blown up in their faces, after some huge twist had come along to throw the audience completely off kilter. It didn’t happen curled up in some dingy basement, only a single, very uncomfortable, mattress between them and a couple of blankets that she wouldn’t have even considered enough to keep half of her warm before this never mind the two of them. 

Maggie had never really been the logical sort though, she picked movies apart with startling ferocity, searching for flaws and patterns and parallels the way he did with an investigation. She didn’t see why every kiss had to follow the fires, because in real life you couldn’t wait for those moments - you could be dead tomorrow, and they were lucky they were both still alive. To be laying there next to each other, trying to focus on the others breathing and the ache in their pulsing bones rather than the incredible cold with the power out or the reality of the situation around them. Considering that Maggie didn’t see any reason for waiting, it made sense in television, in films, but in real life you didn’t wait for the moment that would make the most impact, you just waited for the moment that was right. Furthermore she didn’t see why the hero always to had make the first move when the heroine could probably do it better, or at least they could in this story. He was too chivalrous and too cautious and too guarded, even with her sometimes. She knew she could wait forever for him to make the first move, but she didn’t have forever. She didn’t know how much time she had but she knew that he was here, and he was warm, and he was alive. That was enough for her. 

She shuffled forwards on the mattress slowly, and she could have pushed the urge down, could have passed of moving towards him as a desperate attempt at warmth because god knows that wouldn’t have been a lie but the thought had taken hold in her head. Pushing herself towards him she rested her chin on his chest and tipped her eyes up to his. Their was a tenderness there, but pain also and she just wanted to make it all go away. She wanted everything that was happening around them to go away. She didn’t want to be a heroine, and she didn’t want him to be a hero. She just wanted to be a girl falling in love with a boy for the very first time.

So she kissed him, she pushed her soft lips towards his and she kissed him and he didn’t move. He didn’t move for the longest time as she kissed him, and then he was everywhere. Hands running through her curls, brushing them back from her hair, thumbs gliding across her cheekbones and if fingers could wipe away freckles hers would have been gone, her face a blank canvas under his hands. He was sweet and he was strong and he was everything she needed to make this life they’d been forced into bearable, not okay but she could do it. 

He pulled back from her, dropping a soft kiss on her nose and rested his forehead against hers. She was definitely warmer than she’d been a few minutes ago and she felt needed and his ragged breathing so close to her was the most comforting thing she had ever known. They both had holes in them, everyone did after this and she suspected he always had anyway but this was how they would make each other whole. 

He kissed her awake the next morning and they didn’t talk about it but this was part of who they were now, this was part of them. 

She'd been shot, she'd been shot and it was all his fault.

He knew he shouldn't have let her go back, damn him but he knew it. John could always tell, it was one of the things that made him so good at his job but he just couldn't say no to her. They'd been out in the streets gathering supplies in one of the safer areas of the city nowadays, full of houses that were either empty and abandoned or so full of fear he was surprised the houses themselves weren't shaking. Bane's men usually weren't found in this area of the city during daylight hours unless they were really bored, and today they must have been. 

She had managed to persuade John to go back to one of the abandoned houses they had already gutted for everything helpful they could find earlier in the day because she thought she had seen some books and things that they could hand out to some of the children who were so alone in what Gotham had become, and considering John's upbringing he could sympathise. And God, when she smiled at him like that, grinning as her hair whipped around, flakes of snow coating the curls he was powerless to say no. He was powerless and she was reckless, and on any other day that combination would have resulted in smiling faces and Maggie teasing him endlessly about being so foolishly cautious.

Instead it had ended like this, rushing through the snow on legs that he could barely feel blood falling steadily from Maggie's shoulder, contrasting so horribly, so harshly with the snow and the greyness of Gotham. Gotham had become a black and white movie, a revolution where the only colour was blood and fire. He understood that, but not with her, not her, never her. It had been much later than before when they'd gone into the house and he should have noticed before, but these days he just couldn't keep his eyes of her. He was still sharp but she... she blurred some of the edges in his world and he should have noticed that the pile of blankets in the corner were a bit too uniform, and that the door was a little bit too easy to get past. It didn't really matter now though did it, what he should of noticed, all that mattered is what had happened. They'd gone back into the house was what had happened and some of the mercenaries were clearly further out into the city than they had thought and she'd taken the fall for that.

She was fiery and she'd lit him up again and he didn't know what he would do without her, because Gotham under Bane was turning everyone into people they didn't want to be, that they never thought they'd be and without her he would be exactly the same. The people had lost too much, and he wasn't losing her.

---

He'd taken her straight to Barbara of course, he might have been scared but he wasn't stupid. Yet he'd barely heard any of what Barbara had said, scattered words drifting through his head because all he could see was her, her smiling and "just a flesh wound" and her laughter full of life and "too much blood" and the determined way she always walked... and her blood in the snow, and her eyes rolling into the back of her head, and her skin getting paler and blood, so much blood and he needed it to just STOP. 

She was resting now and he could barely look at her, tank top drenched in blood and sweat and her usually big bouncy hair a mess of weighed down matted curls. And he needed a way to reassure himself that she wasn't... that she was still here. 

They always slept together when they were out scouting, and more and more now even when they weren't. She'd been the one to point it out, which was so her, the way she would just up and say anything. He needed it now, that closeness, the soft thud of her heart still pumping the blood through her live warm body. Quietly as he could John lay himself down next to her, feeling more weary than he had since this whole thing had started. But he could hear her heart, and she was more clammy than warm but it was something. Her hair was half flung haphazardly over her face, anywhere but mixing in with the blood on her shoulder and so softly he moved it away from her face, wrapping it around towards the other side of her head and resting himself down as far from her shoulder as he could. With Barbara's reassurance that she would be okay echoing through his head, shaky and weak but okay he drifted off next to her. The only place in Gotham that felt safe nowadays was next to her, and he hadn't realised until it wasn't true just how much he relied on it. He hadn't realised until he had to carry her just how much she was carrying him these days.

She spoke first when they both woke, icy sun peeking through the window.

"You worry to much." Maggie rasped, her throat ached and her shoulder felt nothing less than on fire but he was staring at her with age in his eyes, one hand running through her blood covered curls.

"One of us has to." was all the reply John had, and she laughed softly, a flutter in her stomach because in this hell hole that Gotham had become it was a lot to have someone worry about you. It was a lot to have someone care as you bleed bravery into the night.

ONE I HAVE DONE DARLING BUT HERE WE GOOOOOOO 

3 - Superheroes - 

7 - That I'd invite to a sleepover/dinner party (i'm having a sleepover fuck y'all) -

11 - That I will love till the end of time -

8 - That I'd want to go on an adventure with - 

13 - I wish had better development/writing -

i've already done 2 and 9 my dear emma, but the others coming right up :D

1 - Protagonists -

4 - Magical Ladies (aka my fave so lots of cheating below) -