#Nathalie is tired | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grimsonandclover · 2 months ago

Text

Next Last

Sympathy is a knife.1

or; Broken bones hurt less than broken girls

Stanford!Tashi x tennis player!reader

Song of the post 'Limp - Fiona Apple'

You didn't respect tennis, so why should she respect you? She hated you. The spoiled nepo-baby who's never had to work a day in her life, and yet somehow you've managed to pay your way into NYU and play on the team. Somehow, you managed to beat her last year when Stanford played NYU, and now she's scheduled to play you again at the French Open. You're a goddamnned mess, everyone knows that.

So how are you still so good?

You're a trainwreck self sabotaging in front of the world.

So why does she feel so terrible when you're on the ground, crying like that, clutching your knee? She should be celebrating. But she's not.

SFW

6k words

angst, rivals to ...something? more in part 2 whenever that is, reader's got issues, death of a parent, mommy AND daddy issues, substance abuse by the reader and possible addiction/dependancy, injury, early 2000s NYC socialite treatment, reader is very irresponsible with a DUI (ewww don't do that please), some vomit, panic attacks, some trauma post-parent death, pre-established relationship, cheating, art follows tashi like a lost puppy, suicidal thoughts/depressions, thats a weird order to put those warnings in but oh well, just overall sad times, big sister tashi, reader should get a therapist but instead she parties and plays tennis, best friend patrick

"You're fucking joking." Are the first words Tashi Duncan says when she's told that she's going to compete against you next week. They come out venom-laced and shoot from her lips like daggers. Then, she says them again. "You're fucking joking."

You, the prodigy of NYU that should've been kicked out long ago if not for your pure, unbridled talent (if unbridled talent meant daddy's money, too). You, the daughter of a late, hot-shot Hollywood producer father and triple-divorcee restauranteur mother. You, the younger sister to B-list nepo-baby actress Seline, the older sister to teenage heartthrob boyband member Jonah. You, the tennis star with her name known by people who've never even seen a single match of tennis in their life during the day, and hot-mess socialite with her DUI mugshot from last year plastered on TMZ by night, your name sprinkled over several blind items on Crazy Days And Nights despite your big-name boyfriend. You, the only person comparable in skill to Tashi Duncan. You, who had already beat her once the same week you got that DUI.

Tashi Duncan hated you.

No, hate was too simple of a word. Hate couldn't begin to describe what she felt. It was more akin to revulsion. You were revolting to her. She felt physically sick when she was in the same room as you, which wasn't often. Until now. Now she had to once again share a court with you at the French Open.

For a split second, she considered pulling out. Then, she got her shit together and remembered that she's Tashi Nicole Duncan, and she wouldn't let a mess of a person like you with no respect for the sport make her think like that.

"Art, could you call my coach?"

Her pet-- I mean, her friend did as she asked, handing the phone to her. "What's the earliest you're available tomorrow?"

"You're fucking joking..." Are the first words you say when you're told that you're going to compete against Tashi next week. They come out quiet and tired, slow and disappointed. "She hates me. She hates me and she's going to kill me.

Tashi, the prodigy of Stanford with better grades than you could ever dream of achieving. Tashi, the daughter of a very much alive working-class father and happily married once mother, oldest sister to twins Nathalie and Renee, who are very normal teenage girls still living their normal lives in high school. Tashi, the tennis star every coach wants to get their hands on, with sponsors creaming their pants for her name on their products. Tashi, who's never once been arrested because that's just not a thing well-rounded people do. TMZ has barely ever even heard of her, and nobody's ever anonymously speculated who she's sleeping with. Tashi, the only person comparable in skill to you. Tashi, who looked like she'd rather she was pronounced dead the day before than hear your name announced by the umpire last year.

Tashi Duncan hated you.

It wasn't just your insecure mind making that up, either. She made it blatantly obvious that she did when you went to shake her hand after winning against her. You could still see the laser-hot glare she gave you if you closed your eyes. Feel the iron grip of her soft hands on yours, like she was restraining herself from snapping your wrist. You didn't look forward to seeing those eyes stare holes into your skull until you got a headache, again, next week.

"Maybe I shouldn't go this year. I don't know... I mean, I just recovered from my ankle, and-"

"Don't be ridiculous." Your best friend, Patrick, cut you off, rolling his eyes. "You're not a pussy bitch, you're a tennis player. Act like one."

Despite his choice of words, you knew it came from a good place. The reassuring smile on him reaffirmed that. Patrick seemingly knew what you were capable of better than you did. "You're going to do fine."

Charlie, your boyfriend, patted your shoulder as he passed you to grab a bottle of water, offering no words of comfort past that. He never tried much in that department. Or most departments, it seemed. It's like he thought relationships were like modeling: show up and look pretty, that's all. You were there showering him with praise and words of affirmation when he had a stomach bug during fashion week and was scared he couldn't walk. Charlie reciprocated by patting you on the shoulder while you paced your living room.

Turning to your mom, who was sitting in a chair nearby, didn't do much to help ease your anxiety like Patrick's words did, though. She was on her phone, texting and calling the dozens of people she kept in contact with a day. It took her a minute to realize you were trying to get her attention.

"Oh, Christ, Y/N, you'll be fine." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "You'll win and it'll all be fine. And if you don't, well... maybe she'll feel like you're even. How's that?"

God, your feet were killing you in these chunky platforms. Is that wet patch on your skinny jeans from a spilled drink or are you so drunk you wet yourself on the dancefloor? Where are you, what's the name of this place? Patrick doesn't seem to know, either. You're pretty sure Paris is about two shots away from making out with him, based on the way she's staring at him. Why the fuck did you choose to wear skinny jeans, these are miserable. The sequin dress was right there. Is the music louder than usual? The brights are too light right now-- wait, shit, no, the lights are too bright. Where's Patrick?

You feel bile rise in your throat and shove a girl out of the way so you throw up into the club toilet. It tastes like strawberry and tequila and shit. Someone's banging their fist on the stall door begging to piss, and you can hear moaning and skin slapping in the other stall. Fifty-fifty chance it's Patrick. Twenty-eighty chance it's Patrick and Paris.

You flush, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and stumble out the stall to the sinks. God, you're a mess. You know you started the night with two hoop earrings, where did the other one go? The couple in the stall are so loud, and you can definitely recognize the sound of Patrick now. Mascara is smudgeding and it's making your eyes irritated and water, but you didn't think to use anything waterproof.

You almost trip over yourself and have a repeat of last time (the time you sprained your ankle at 1OAK and couldn't play properly for three weeks) as you approach the stall, knocking on the door. "Patrick," you gag a little as bile threatens to resurface, "Pat we gotta... gotta go. It's..." you pull your phone from your bra, "Fuck, it's three. Amber's gon' fuckin' killllllllll me." Amber being your coach. You wonder how not-hungover you'll be able to act when you see her in three hours.

It takes a couple more bangs on the door for him to stop. You can hear clothes shuffling, some giggling and whispers, and the zip of his fly before the stall door opens. Paris stumbles out with a giggle, adjusting her skirt before announcing that she's gonna go find Kim, and 'good luck with Amber.'

You're barely standing and conscious, but you're not so out of it to not notice how he looks. White residue on his nostril tells all. "You've got coke?"

Patrick steps out of the stall, eyeing a girl at the sink throwing him dirty looks in the mirror before he looks back to you. "You know what I'm going to say to that, Y/N."

"Come on, just enough to keep me up. I'm gonna crash by four."

"No."

"Patrick."

"No."

You huff, leaning back on the counter and crossing your arms. "Fuck you. Since when did you join the morals police?"

"Since last week."

That's not a pleasant reminder. You want to slap him in that moment, even if it was a perfectly reasonable excuse for his sudden reluctance to feed your craving. You were a nightmare to everyone you knew last week. And the week before. You wonder how far back this could go. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, well." He shrugs, wiping his nose again and checking himself out in the mirror, adjusting his jacket.

TMZ, oh how you loathe them, has pictures of you leaving the club by the time you're meeting Amber on the rooftop court of your residence. She's livid, as she always seems to be. Like someone shoved a lemon in her mouth and no one told her she could just spit it out. "You're late. You've got the Open in four days and you're fucking late. And hungover."

"It's only two hours."

Your voice is tired and croaking, and you haven't slept longer than two since yesterday. Hungover is a generous diagnosis. You're still drunk. Charlie, who was absent from your all-nighter club hopping, makes sure you don't trip over yourself going up the stairs to the roof before leaving your side to lounge on the pool chairs. Someone texted you "Hey girl, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but..." around the time you made it out of bed, but you deleted the text before you saw any more of it. Your mind wanders to that text when you look at him.

"Two hours, my ass. Christ, I should quit."

Amber threatens leaving you as much as you promise it won't happen again. Like 'yes', 'no', and 'You do this one more time and so help me God I will make sure you can never find a coach again,' are all the basis of her vocabulary. You play and pay too well for her to ever commit to those threats.

Practice goes on until your bones ache and cry for a break. Charlie's fallen asleep with a magazine tucked under his chin. Amber leaves for the poolside cabana and calls her girlfriend while you just lay on the ground, staring at the clouds. The adrenaline starts to wear off, meaning you feel like shit. Your mouth is incredibly dry, the sun is blinding. It's like your body remembered that you're meant to be hungover and is only now catching up. At least it's after practice. Not that you did all that well. You can hear Amber argue with her girlfriend over the phone and it only makes you feel worse about being such a horrible player by showing up late and half-shitfaced. You knew they were going through a rough patch. Least you could do is make her job easier.

Closing your eyes is only temporary relief. You can still hear the cars from the streets below and Amber whisper-yell into the receiver. "I told you already... Wednesday's no good, no... well then tell them to reschedule... Rebecca, it's not like you didn't know what kind of schedule I've got when we started dating..."

It feels like your legs are going to snap when you roll over, hands planted on the hard court ground and you silently beg your muscles to push you up. You're dizzy, the doubled, now tripled vision bringing back the bile from last night/this morning to the base of your throat, but you swallow it down. Over your shoulder, you look at the pool, the sunlight bouncing from the cold water. Amber's on the other side of it, brows furrowed. She sees you watching her and turns around, back facing you.

She turns back around when she hears a splash. You fell face-first into the pool. On purpose. The cool water feels amazing, the sting from hitting the water nothing compared to the ache in your bones that has been there since childhood. You open your eyes, watching your hair billow around you like smoke, the way the sun glimmers on the surface like sparkles, the shadow peering over the ledge. "Oh, god. I'll call you later, Becca. I love you."

When was the last time Charlie said he loved you?

It's so quiet under the water. You wish the bubbles that escape your lips and float above you would carry out everything you hold in your chest. Then you could float like they do.

Like all moments of perfect peace, it doesn't last long. Babies must leave the safety of their mother's womb. People wake up every morning despite wishing to stay in bed and fall back into nothing. Amber reaches into the water and grabs your arm to tug you out and you feel like you could cry. The first wail, the sign of life. Opening your eyes to the sun leaking through blinds, signaling to you it's morning.

Is death truly the only time we have? When you ask Amber, she just frowns and tells you to stop drinking as she dries your hair with a towel.

"Come on, Y/N. Put your back into it!"

The ball barely makes it over the net, bounce, bounce, bouncing down the other side of the court. The racket is heavy in your small hands, but he won't let you put it down yet. "Dad, I can't." You whine.

"What did I say about can'ts?"

You should bite your tongue. Can't's for quitters. "Maybe I am a quitter!"

He stomps across the court, grabbing the collar of your little tennis whites. Despite the action, there's no violence behind it. "No daughter of mine is a quitter."

His voice is low, like he's whispering a secret to you. "You can."

Your collar is let go and your father stands straight. "And you will. Now, do it again like Ronald taught you."

It's Renaud. Grabbing another ball from the basket behind you, you try again. And again. And again. By the time you're done, your arms are sore for days to come and you've got blisters on your feet. He makes you drop out of your preschool Mother's Day dance to practice with Renaud instead. You had the dance down pat, practicing it for weeks.

You only ever started playing because he wanted you to. Maybe five-year-old you should've held your ground more.

Tashi bit the inner skin of her lips, her mother talking casually into her ear through the phone. "And Nathalie, well, you know how she felt about it all. Cried the whole way home."

"Is she alright? Well, clearly not, but..." She zips up the final suitcase on her bed, taking a breath. They were flying out tomorrow, the Open being the day after.

Her mother sighs, nodding her head even though her daughter can't see. "She will be, in time. First heartbreak's going to be pretty tough, poor girl."

A knock on her dorm door pulls Tashi's attention from the call. Looking up, she sees Art peeking in. She holds her finger up, asking him to wait. "Well, let Beetle know that she can call or text me about it anytime. She forgets to check my texts."

"You forget to call."

Tashi huffs. Her mother's right, of course. It's not on purpose, it's just she's constantly go, go, going, her phone often goes forgotten. "Still. I'll pick up whenever she wants me."

Her eyes trail a bird outside her window. It hops across the little ledge, pecking at something on the brick. She wished she had wings. Tashi would just up and fly to her family right now. It's been two months since she last hugged her sisters. Did they forget how she felt? Sometimes, when she can't sleep, Tashi thinks about when they were just little soft fleshy things in bassinets, waking her up at night as they cried in her parent's bedroom. Now, Nathalie was going through her first breakup and Renee was going through some rebellious phase back home.

"You've got your hotel booked for tomorrow?" Tashi asks after a moment, biting her lip again. She can't help it, her worries jump from one subject to another.

"Yes, Tash. I love you, we all love you. We're booked, we're packed, we're ready. I've gotta go finish dinner, have you eaten?"

Tashi hums a response, smiling to herself. "I miss your cooking, mom."

"I miss you. Now, get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."

When the call ends, Art steps in fully. "Everything with Nat alright?"

She frowns in response, shaking her head and sitting at the edge of the small single in her dorm. The old mattress creaks under her, the weight of dozens like her over the years taking its toll on the springs. "Brodie and her broke up last night at some party. Nat's taking it kinda hard."

He frowns with her and sighs. "I do not miss high school..."

"What'd you come in here for?" Tashi asks after a moment, turning to face him better. She tucks a leg under the other thigh, and Art's eyes catch on the flexing muscle under the warm toffee skin for a moment. Blinking hard, he sits beside her, grabbing one of her pillows to play with. It's a nervous habit of Art's. "It's about her."

When Seline sees the news, she doesn't call. Just sends a text asking if you're alright. Jonah does call, but you don't pick up. You know if you do it'll be like pouring your feelings to a brick wall. And then, when you're done, the brick wall will recite some line from his therapist and ask you for your new dealer's number, and that will be that. Your mother has stopped trying all-together.

Tashi feels a strange sense of pity when Art shows her the headlines, an emotion she doesn't associate with you.

Charlie, mid-grind at the club, decided he no longer liked playing your boyfriend. He forgot to relay that information to you, though. Honest mistake, he assumed you'd gather that when he turned around and stuck his tongue down another girl's throat. Oh, you should've seen the look on your face.

All those unrequited 'I love you's coming back to hit you in the face in a single moment. You had even tossed one on the way here. One that he let hit his turned shoulder and slide off the curve of it like bird shit. Now, here you were, frozen on the dance floor as you watched your boyfriend of a year make it painfully clear how much it all meant to him. Charlie Maddox was known for his looks, never his brain or heart. You tried so desperately to make up for it. You'd rip the beating muscle in your chest out for him and for what?

You've never been good at holding in your emotions. You were the 'wear your heart on your sleeve' kind of gal, much to your dismay. Meaning, you slapped him in the middle of the crowd, screaming something about love and his small dick (it was average), and stormed out of the club only to be met with dozens of paparazzi who were always there waiting for someone to leave. Patrick was just getting another drink at the bar when you left, missing the whole thing. You barely made it five steps out the door, tears streaming down your face, ankles twisting with every step, before taking a detour and puking in the alley behind a dumpster. Pictures were taken of every moment. One guy even ran up and took a picture of the puddle.

Sure he wasn't the best boyfriend, and it was a long time coming, but you weren't exactly in the mental state for such a sudden change in relationship status. You flew to France tomorrow. Amber said no distractions. Here Charlie was, throwing a wrench in everything with his stupid model face and his stupid model lips and his stupid model ego. You think you would've married him if he asked. Have his stupid model babies. Not like he ever would want that with you. How pathetic are you?

You're a hiccuping, sobbing mess. Why'd you take the train here? That club was hardly worth the trip.

It's embarrassing to be sitting on the subway seats, slumped down as you stare at the floor. Not because of your status or who you are, but because... well, just look at the state of you. Your hair is a mess from partying for hours on end, you ripped your heels off your feet the moment you sat down (and they've already been stolen), mascara is running down your cheeks and frankly, you haven't stopped crying. You try to cover your face when you see camera phones curiously life up, some obvious and some not so obvious. The guy next to you gives you the side eye, squinting like he's trying to tell if he recognizes you.

You just want to curl up and die. That girl, the one Charlie practically impregnated through a kiss with his tongue so far down her throat he could probably taste her lunch, looked like Mila Kunis. It wasn't, of course, but she looked like her. Why didn't you look like her? Maybe then he'd stay. He'd try and taste your lunch. Or maybe it wasn't looks. Something that you felt like you had even less control over. You cry a little harder.

If your dad was here he'd have something to say. He'd have some schpiel about life and relationships that you probably wouldn't want to hear anyway, but at least you'd be hearing him. You'd take just about anything. Your phone rings with Patrick's number and you don't pick up. The guy next to you snaps a picture. You wonder if your dealer has anything available. Amber's going to murder you in cold blood. You'd welcome it just about now. The P.A. announces the next stop, and it's not yours, and it would be an hour of walking barefoot across New York to get to your place, but you leave the subway anyway when it comes to a stop. Because that guy kind of stank, and a kid was crying too loudly, and you could hear someone calling someone else to talk about who they just saw on the train, and you just wanted to go home.

The walk was miserable. Your feet hurt and you had to put too much attention for your liking on where you were stepping so you wouldn't get some uncurable disease from the sidewalk. Less people noticed you on the streets, but someone had clearly let the press know what train you were on and they knew if you'd left by foot, they could probably catch up. They did. Now, they had pictures of you crying leaving the club, crying on the New York City subway, and crying walking home. Fantastic. By now you were known more for your tears than your tennis. You'd hail a cab but it was rush hour, and there's no point in even trying then.

You knew it was a fruitless effort asking for them to stop taking picture of you, but you tried anyway. All requests were drowned out by the snapping clicks of the cameras. You were still drunk, and the flashes made your eyes burn and head spin. Your name was being called all around you.

"Need a ride home?" "What happened with Charlie?" "Any news you can share about your sister's latest project?" "Chin up, darling, I can't get your face." "Excited for your match with Tashi Duncan, Y/N?" "Hey, you need some shoes?"

You look over to the guy who just offered you shoes, stopping in your miserable and painful tracks. He's at least wearing socks when he pulls his sneakers off. They're a size or so too big, like clown shoes, but they get the job done. You thank him, and then go back to keeping your head down as you walk. You can already see the headlines.

Your head was spinning so much you didn't know if you could play. You're on the stationary bike to warm up, an hour or so until your match. An hour or so until you face her. You already spent last night with Amber on the practice courts, getting re-used to how the clay changes the speed of the ball, perfecting your strikes as best you can. She offered to take you again, but you were too nauseous to go. That seems to be a constant for you.

Patrick's back in New York. He's got his own tennis career to take care of, but he's sending you texts here and there. Words of encouragement.

"picture her naked or smething"

"actually no dont do that. that wouldnt even work for me"

"make chuck realize what hes missing by winning"

"i just took the fattest shit!!!! oooooh I wanna send you the pic soooo bad. thatll take ur mind off of it"

You had to block his number for a good fifteen minutes just in case. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd done that. That did almost get a laugh out of you if you weren't still so nervous.

Someone was watching on the small TV in the corner of the room, you think it was Rebecca. They're saying it's going to rain tomorrow, but that's all you can understand. So much for those French classes you took for five years straight. You tried to focus on the blurring syllables you once knew as you cycled.

Seline sends you a bouquet of good-luck flowers, but she forgets you're allergic. Jonah forgot altogether that the Open was today, and you don't have it in you to remind your little brother. He's on tour anyway, what could he really do?

Tashi's pacing the practice courts with her coach, Art in the corner talking with her mom as they half-watch her. She's stressed out of her mind. She played and won the Australian Open earlier last year. To win this would already take her halfway to a career Grand Slam. Tashi needed this. To have anyone like you get in the way of that would be unacceptable.

Her coach is doing his best to assure her she'll win. Forget last time, this was it.

"I mean, have you seen her lately?" He said with a scoffed laugh. "Nobody wins an Open like that."

You have. You won the Australian Open, too, a few years ago at 16, and you were equally off the rocks back then. It didn't do much to quell her nerves. "You've put in the work, Tash. You've been training for years, harder than she could ever imagine doing. It's in the bag. All you need to be worrying about is where you're gonna put your Suzanne Lenglin cup."

"It's only the first round. Once you get through the initial nerves, the rest will go by like nothing."

"Right." You said with no real believability. Amber was leaning over the front of the stationary bike and you slowed down your cycling, nearing the end of the warm-up. "Except it's not just the first round."

It's Tashi. It's Charlie. It's Seline, and Jonah, and your mom. It's the first major tournament you've played since...

Since him.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Amber could hear all of it just by looking at you, and she had nothing left to offer but a pitying sigh and a pat on your shoulder. Even Patrick, now unblocked again, had nothing left to offer through the phone.

Nathalie is crying on the couch and Renee is doing her best to console her twin when Tashi returns to the player room, their mother and Art following behind. She starts doing stretches in the middle of the room as she addresses her weeping sister. "Beetle, he isn't worth your tears. You know that."

Tashi's mother wraps warm arms around her twins. "Baby, heartbreak heals. You're left only with the unconditional love you hold for yourself. Let it out."

It was her mantra. Words she'd repeat after all three of the sister's occasional breakups. Time heals all wounds.

Tired legs climb off the bike. You overdid it, and Amber silently panics that the overexertion will affect your playing. The couch facing the door connected to the player's tunnel is plush enough. Thoughts trail off to your family, all of which aren't here to watch you play.

Your mother was in France, too. You asked her to come but she was busy meeting with vendors for her new restaurant. Seline was on set for some blockbuster horror film back home. Jonah, well... maybe you should text him a quick 'hey, just letting you know im about to play one of the biggest tournaments a tennis player can, against the scariest woman I know. wish me luck!' But you don't. And your father. Oh, your father. He might've been the only one out of all of them willing to show up.

That doesn't matter now, though. He won't.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

He won't.

Breathing gets a little harder to do, even though you're sitting.

He won't, he won't, he won't, he can't.

The words are falling out of your mouth now like sand seeping through the cracks in fingers. "He's not here. My dad's not here."

Your wild eyes look up to Amber, whose head whips to you. Her heart drops. Rebecca stops watching the TV. You've been here before.

"Amber, he's not here. He's not here. I can't play, he's not--"

A knock on the door, your name being called by two voices. One tells you to breathe, the other tells you that "they're ready for you."

You can only assume what comes from who as tears blur in your waterline. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

He's not here. The one person in your life that always would be. The one person who promised not to leave.

Tashi threw up after she played you and lost. Tashi Duncan lost.

Stanford Vs. NYU. She should've had it in the bag. It should've been nothing.

Top players lost all the time. It's a fact. Human error, lucky streak for the opponent, off-days. Not for Tashi. Losing to you was a slap in the face. It shook her confidence in herself so bad she didn't know how she'd recover. It was only when she played and won the Australian Open later that year, with you nowhere to be seen, that she got it back.

She spent a weekend learning everything she could about you. A weak moment in her own eyes, but she had to know more about the person who made her crumble. It wasn't hard to do-- researching you. You were in the press constantly, along with the rest of your family.

Your DUI and countless failed relationships, your sister getting thrown out of galas for fighting with other actresses, your brother sleeping with groupies and their tall tales about the ordeal, your mother's countless failed business ventures post-modeling career, and your father. Life and death.

Tashi had found an old interview of yours, done right after your own Australian Open win at 16. You mentioned how he's responsible for it all, pushing you to play since as long as you could remember. How despite his crazy career as one of the big producers in Hollywood, he'd still make time in his schedule to be there for all your games. He was your biggest critic and biggest fan, you said. That you didn't know where you'd be without him in any sense of the word.

When she checked the date of the interview, her heart stopped for a moment. A week before his accident. She even remembers seeing it on the news. How Tashi looked over to her dad as he folded laundry on the couch, watching it with her. "Hollywood producer found dead in major collision in L.A. A break malfunction is the suspected cause."

Maybe that moment, reading that interview on her bed with her father knocking on the door to offer tea, was the first time she saw you more than a mess. More as a hurt, teenage girl. Maybe she forgot it all, though, looking at you now.

You couldn't sit in a car for three months without having a panic attack after it happened. The mere mention of them could even make you spiral. It was after the funeral that you started your infamous 'spiral down the drain'. There was so much paparazzi outside the cemetery gates.

It's the only reason you didn't try to compete in any of the Grand Slam tournaments after winning the Australian at 16. Every time you picked up a racket for the next four years, you heard his nagging voice in your head.

"Come on. Not good enough. Put your goddamn all into it!"

"You're not getting a Grand Slam with this attitude. Do it again."

It was too much to do anything bigger than challengers or school tournaments. Every single one left you teary-eyed in the locker rooms before and after. Amber suggested a therapist several times, but nothing came of it.

You can still see the look of pride on his face after you won the Open. Every time you close your fucking eyes, he's there. Such a rare treat to see him smile, and you did it.

You thought you'd be ready now. You told Amber you're ready. It's been four years, damn it. You're supposed to be over it. What happened to time heals all wounds?

All this time, you thought you were scared of seeing Tashi again after beating her in '06. It's only now, the crowd in your ears as your name is announced, that you realize how wrong you were. He's still there, in the back of your heart. Oh, how that bit of flesh has been carved out over the years of your brief life. How it still beats, after all the shit you've put it through, only to make him proud. Could you ever make him proud again?

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

A tennis ball soars over the polyethylene net in a perfect arch. Long-loved Chanel tennis sneakers skid across the clay ground, arm slicing through the tension and humidity in the air. Thwack! The ball is launched back to Tashi Duncan. "Come on. Not good enough."

Then, the hitch of your breath; a sharp intake like more air in your lungs would be the thing to save you.

Sweat drips from your brow to your cheekbone, sliding down like a tear. From the back of your neck down your spine like a chill. Even from this distance, you can see the drops slide down her temples and the slope of her chin. Another crack emanates from her racket. You brace for impact. You see your father behind the net.

The court ground under your feet scraping. The sound of skin ripping open in thousands of tiny cuts, the cccccrrrrrrrrack! of bone. Bone. The gasps of the crowd. The crack of bone. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Then, the only thing anyone can hear is the shriek of your cry.

Next Last

#challengers #challengers 2024 #tashi duncan #x reader #angst #challengers fic #tashi duncan x reader #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #tashi duncan fic #zendaya #patrick zweig #art donaldson #enemies to.... whatever you call this #this took so long #tashi nation rise #dont let this SIX THOUSAND WORD FIC flop PLEASE

159 notes · View notes

fanfic-recs-01 · 2 months ago

Text

Daminette Fic Recs

So it looks like my posts are getting too big for Tumblr lol

I'll now be separating them a bit more and will have to make multiple parts for each post.

Link to Part 2

Updated 11/2/24

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Damian Wayne

She’s Sunshine, She’s Grace, She’ll Punch You in the Face by Brinxiethebear *Finished*

~Marinette struggles to stay happy nowadays but what better way to change your mood than with a change of location? Adrien gave up his miraculous so he could start fresh. After all, his dad was in prison for being the super villain Hawkmoth and his other caretaker Nathalie died from over use of a broken Miraculous. So now Marinette is the guardian of the miraculous. ~

for us to collide by LadyLiterature *Finished*

~The story of Marinette stumbling upon the illustrious Wayne family over and over again, as well as the more infamous Bats, over the course of her many visits to Gotham. She, of course, charms the whole lot of them and finds that the same is true in the reverse.~

A Robin and His Lady by ProudGeek4Ever *Finished*

~Marinette lost her friends to Lila, Adrien was long forgotten and Chat Noir kept getting more irresponsible. Being a teenage superhero was stressfull, but Marinette's life takes a turn for the better when a chance meeting in Gotham changes everything. Damian changes everything.~

No, Mr. Wayne, You Can't Adopt Me! by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime) *Finished*

~Bruce's personal assistant is scarily competent---she seems to know the best decision at each time, predict emergencies, and is an expert at handling all of his children. But what if there's more to her than meets the eye?~

More Than One Secret by Tyshian *Finished*

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has Secrets. Damian Wayne has Secrets. The pair together have Secrets.~

Reunions are... interesting if you’re a Todd by crazyjc *Finished*

~Alright, this is based on laraceleste's Tell Me More where Jason Todd is Marinette’s big brother with one exception—Marinette didn’t know where Jason was after she was adopted until after he died when she was ten. They were apart for three years here, as GCPD got her at 7.~

It's Just Indifference by dontyoublink *Finished*

~Marinette thought she would just get some inspiration for her designs when she headed to the park. As luck would have it, she also meets four (interesting? unique? slightly insane?) Americans. Frisbee, ice cream, and much-needed conversations ensue.~

World's Greatest Detectives, My Ass by Appleberry84 *Finished*

~Marinette figures out the Batfam's identities and decides to torture them.~

Leave it Behind by ShannonEsmerelda *Finished*

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has grown tired of Paris, and the miracle box was no longer safe there. It'd been active in the country for too long, seen too much damage. She needed to find a place for both her and the kwami's to heal, while still having the ability to be a hero. So, why not Gotham? The city had enough crime for both her and the bat family without getting in each others way, right? Right?~

Report to HR by SimplyAnotherWriter *Finished*

~Look; Bruce liked Marinette. If the girl hadn’t already had loving and adoring parents that had spotless records and nothing incriminating about them whatsoever(Bruce had checked long and hard), he probably would have adopted the girl just like he had the others.

However, things wouldn't remain this perfect if Damian continued to try and mess it up by SCARING the poor girl!~

The Sun Who Lit Up The Night Sky by FandomQueen10325, leaping_lizard_babe *Finished*

~4 months after the defeat of Hawkmoth, the akuma class wins a trip to Gotham. While they are there, Marinette keeps attracting bad luck, and can never seem to stay out of trouble. The Batfam is very interested when they learn about what had happened in Paris, so they question ladybug.~

Travels of Passion by StarShine583 *Finished*

~When people as famous as the Waynes come to visit your city, the most you'd expect to get from them is a quick little smile. A hand shake if you're in the right place at the right time and extremely lucky. Marinette didn't really expect to get either, and she certainly didn't expect to get what she actually got.~

Of Birds and Bugs (revising and rewriting) by orphan_account *Finished*

~Marinette was a busy girl. Between her idol work as NeTi, and her duty as Ladybug, it was hard to do everything else, like being a good class president. Still, she was able to pull through.

Somehow, the class get's a trip to Gotham, sponsored by Bruce Wayne himself, and it looked like Marinette would be able to take a break for once.~

Dinner at Wayne Manor by littlefleetinglight *Finished*

~In the front hall standing in a line was Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damien; in that orders, with Alfred standing in front of them like an officer in front of his troops.

“Now, when Ms.Marinette arrives there will be no inappropriate language, no crude gestures or noises, and there will be no interrogation. Do you gentlemen understand?”~

#SunshineOfGotham by sixtyeightdays *Finished*

~All of Gotham knows Marinette, the Sunshine who's made her way into everyone's hearts. But so what if all of Gotham knows Marinette? Does her class know that they know Marinette? Of course not, why would they! But, well, let's see how they find out.~

Rockin’ the House by littlefleetinglight *Finished*

~It was another charity gala held by the Wayne Family; this one was raising funds for art programs across the world, and because it was for art there were artists of all types from all over, including the famous Rock’n’Roll artist Jagged Stone…and his guest.~

To marry an Assassin by PL_Panda *Finished*

~Marinette wakes up in a cell and later is forced to marry a member of the League of Shadows, who is also less than willing. Exactly what she was pulled in? And of course there is magic involved, so no cancellation. And apparently in Tibet ancient orders can marry minors off just like that. This was definitely not Damian's day. Or Week. Or month. He got married with a random girl...~

Who Needs Words? by AKP31E *Finished*

~After the defeat of Hawkmoth and the retirement of Suhan, Marinette’s life is just getting crazier. She doesn’t know how a soulmate could ever fit into her life, and sometimes she thinks the two letters on her wrist are just the universe’s joke to her, but she knows better than to bank on it. Her soul mark isn’t even a word. Who is going to say “Tt” to her?~

History Repeats by DesertSnowQueen *Finished*

~When Kitty Noire makes an appearance in Gotham, she finds herself drawn to a certain little bird whose brothers are far too entertained by this turn of events~

Magical Girl by Judysupremus

~Marinette accidentally portals into the batcave.~

The Power of Luck by FridayFirefly

~The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects, none more powerful and unpredictable than the power of Miraculous Luck. When Marinette's family relocates to Gotham, Marinette finds her Miraculous Luck leading her down a path she never would have expected, a path that leads straight to Damian Wayne.~

The events on a Saturday Morning by orphan_account *Finished*

~Marinette and Damian have been in a long distance relationship for over a year with (most) of the Batfamily not knowing at all until a young girl stumbles through a portal on a Saturday morning.~

Friendly Sunshine In Gotham by M1dn1ght_Star *Finished*

~Marinette is happy to be back in Gotham after a visit with Jagged several years ago. This might just end up being the perfect way to expose Lila once and for all, as a nice bonus to seeing her honorary family and boyfriend again.~

Daminette Soulmate AU by keeptellingyourselfthat *Finished*

~Tradition says that your soulmate will have another tattoo, something that relates to you. When they meet you, it is said that the tattoos start glowing a bright gold.~

Calling for Help by Dramatic_Squirrel *Finished*

~It's been a month since the Battle of Miracle Queen and Marinette has been struggling alone under the pressure of being the new guardian. With her training yet to have been completed, Marinette makes her first official decision as the new guardian, to ask the Justice League for help.~

serendipity by keeptellingyourselfthat *Finished*

~The last time Damian AL-Ghul saw Marinette was when they were twelve. He didn't think he would see her again. So, it's a huge surprise when he stumbles upon her in WE while exposing the liar of the class from France.~

In The Wrong Bed? by San_fics *Finished*

~“Like I said,” Jason yawned. “Eventually everyone in this family goes crazy.”

“I'm not crazy!” Damian protested. “She was here!”

“Maybe you just had a very realistic dream?” Dick suggested.

“I’m perfectly capable of distinguishing dreams from reality, thank you very much!” Snapped Damian. “She was real and she was in my bed!”~

Cat Cursed by TheStarfishAlien *Finished*

~The Cheng family carries a curse. Every other generation carries a second form, that of a cat. Their dual nature makes it difficult for those with the curse to fit in with society. Some flee permanently into the form of the cat, while others try their hardest to pretend that their cat form does not exist. Very few find a balance in the middle.~

Secrets, Masks and Family Gatherings by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime) *Finished*

~After nearly a year of being together, Damian finally decides to introduce Marinette to his family.~

living among the regular people of the world trying to blend in by another_cancer *Finished*

~Marinette was an assassin named ladybug that was supposed to kill Damian, but she didn't and now they meet again years later.~

New but True by yannowhatigiveup *Finished*

~Damian and Marinette are kidnapped from their lives to be betrothed to one another. Unfortunately, they were separated and missed the other greatly. Once realising that Marinette is in Gotham for a school trip, Jon, being the good friend he is, reunites them.~

Eons & Eternities by Utopian_angel *Finished*

~After dedicating many life cycles to an endless conflict between chaos and order, Ra's Al Ghul decides to use his last chance to form a union.

A union between their respective heirs that will last for eons & eternities.~

Use Your Brain by Judysupremus *Finished*

~Marinette and her class go to Gotham. What happens when she has to rescue Chat Noir from Batman?

The is silly, potentially crack.~

An Awkward Reveal by Miraculous_786 *Finished*

~Who can blame Edward Nygma for being protective over his adopted daughter?

The very daughter who was dating Damian Wayne right under his nose.~

The Bride that can Break Bones by LovesWifi *Finished*

~Marinette and Damian are betrothed and that's all you need to know.~

Senses by Alexiessan *Finished*

~Marinette never thought that she would be among the 0.1% of the population to have a soulmate, and yet, here she was.

She wasn't ready for her life to change drastically because of it.~

A Welcoming Change by Brinxiethebear *Finished*

~Damian Wayne always saw himself in a certain light. He was calculating and cold and he always took his work seriously. He was what others would call the Ice Prince. He was a loner and by choice. The only people he ever really tolerated talking to was his family and his only friend, Jon. Mainly he just spent time with his pets.~

Never alone by Alexiessan *Finished*

~For a moment, ever since Lila came into her life, Marinette thought she would lose everyone dear to her. Turns out, if she keeps trying, she can do anything and make everything turn out for the better.

Contrary to her belief, Marinette was never alone.~

#8024 by SimplyAnotherWriter *Finished*

~“Inmate #8024 of Gotham Asylum Institution. State your name.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

How had she come to this, you might wonder? Well... It wasn't as long of a story as you would think.~

Summer in Gotham is a time for the Akuma Class to relax and oh wait are those assassins? by baby_blue24680 *Finished*

~After hearing a brief description of the class dynamic of the Akuma Class, Mayor Bourgeois all but blackmails Bruce Wayne into sponsoring a trip to Gotham for the summer semester, believing that it will lead to fewer akumas. Word travels to Talia al Ghul, who decides to give an old friend a visit and literally and figuratively throws an engagement at Marinette.~

Four times the Ladybug magic teleported Marinette to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there by EditorOfEverything *Finished*

~This is part one in a five part series. I have never actually completed a fic before, so this is kind of my NaNoWriMo goal for myself, I guess... So, without further ado, here is four times the Ladybug magic teleported Marinette to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there~

The Bug, the Bird and the Bats by whoscountinganyway *Finished*

~Everyone knows that Damian Wayne doesn't have any friends; he pushes away anyone who wants to get close to him, denies those close to him the knowledge that he cares, vehemently refuses to be in the presence of wanna-be suitors. He simply isn’t social.~

The Eyes are the Window to the Soul by Brinxiethebear *Finished*

~Have you heard the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul? In a world where soulmates are common, one might think that soulmate marks dealing with the eyes would mean something tremendous, and they would be right.~

In Which Damian Needs a Tutor and Marinette Needs a Job by kceedraws *Finished*

~It starts with an offhand comment on Tim’s birthday.

Damian blinks. “It looked like what?”

“Lit,” Richard repeats. “Isn’t that what you kids call it, with the music and dancing…?”

“I don’t follow. The video had rather dim lighting, if you asked me.”~

Freezing Fate by boldlyanxious *Finished*

~Like everyone, Marinette received her soulmate journal when she was ten. She was excited about all the possibilities it offered, but she never expected her soulmate to show up a few weeks later to take the journal away from her.~

Gotham For Two by multifandomscribette *Unfinished*

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng organized a spring field trip for her class but of course things didn't go as planned and she is still shunned by her class. Cut off from her formed support system and almost completely alone in the most crime ridden city in the world, Marinette meets Damian Wayne via his dog, Titus and she might not be so alone anymore.~

Lost And Found by FridayFirefly *Unfinished*

~The thing Marinette wants most in the world is a Soulmate. But no matter how much she tries to convince herself that her perfect match is out there, she still has her doubts. In a world where your Soulmate finds the things you lose, Marinette only ever seems to lose things. In eleven years, she's never found a single thing her Soulmate lost.

Until the day she does. That's when it all begins.~

The Paris Problem by newdog14 *Unfinished*

~Damian Wayne, one time assassin, present-day vigilante, and entirely uninterested in getting the normal teenage experience. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, part time superhero, full time guardian, and very much wishing for the days of being a normal girl again. They’ve been brought together by circumstance and common enemies, and they’ll never be ordinary, but together they might just find a new normal as they work together to solve The Paris Problem.~

Damian Wayne by deathsong *Finished*

~ the class goes on an exchange program to Gotham, and Lila decides to say she's dating the billionaire's son, Damian Wayne. Who is sitting like three seats away from her.~

#fic recs #batfam #daminette #damian wayne #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng

70 notes · View notes

asukiess · 3 months ago

Note

grr hello i am still thinking about your sentiemilie au

emmy pov...imagine! you have no life before, and no life after. all you know is the House.

the House and those who live in it. the Man who stares too much. the Woman who averts her eyes. and the Boy who pities you, when it should be the other way around.

an intern, they call you - and you may not know much, but you do know that this is not what an intern should be doing.

the Man has you pose for him often. he designs clothes, he tells you, and more than that, he designs clothes for you. you stand in his office, eyes drawn to the large frame behind his desk. the empty frame.

perhaps he'll put a portrait of you up there some day, he says. you don't ask whose portrait used to be up there.

the Woman barely glances up from her tablet when you approach. you're here to help, you tell her. isn't that what an intern should be doing? her lips purse, as though you have said something wrong. but you don't know what wrong is - all you know is what you were told.

you're a hard worker, you insist. please, if there's anything you can do--

no, she says, harsh. but then, she softens. you can go spend some time with the Boy, she tells you. he'll be glad to see you.

then why aren't you glad to see me? you want to say. you never do.

the Boy is often in his room, a fact you don't quite understand. his door is not locked - not like yours so often is - but he acts like it is. like it would be the hardest thing in the world to wrap his hand around the doorknob and step outside.

with that, you sympathize. your world is the House. what could possibly lie beyond?

the Boy is so, so kind to you. he treats you like something fragile, something delicate - like if he closes his eyes and opens them again, you'll vanish. gone, back to wherever you were before the House.

he stutters over your name, the syllables unfamiliar in his mouth.

is there something else you'd rather call me? you ask him.

...no, he says, not yet.

then when?

when it is your portrait on the wall? when the Woman sees you as an equal? when the Man finally tires of dressing you?

the Boy looks sad. because of you, perhaps. but when you rise to leave, his hand reaches out to catch yours.

you can stay, he says quietly. if you want.

you do want, so you stay.

i'm sorry, you say after a moment. if me being here... if it's making things hard for you.

it's all right, says the Boy, and he squeezes your hand. he is so very kind. but then he says: it's only temporary, after all.

what is?

you, he says. sooner or later, they'll get tired of you. sooner or later, they'll make a new one.

a new one. a new intern, a new model. a new family.

you think your heart would be pounding in your chest - if you had one.

HI NEMALI!!! my love!!! my insp!!

my god..... genuinely I adore your 2nd person pov writing, it just arrests me and I know it'll gut me sooner or later in the story and UGH!!

ALL YOU KNOW IS THE HOUSE!!! what an absolutely confusing situation. I just know Gabriel sanded her down just enough to not ask questions, but the right questions so she isn't boring to him.

"the Man has you pose for him often." SICKENING. and hello!!! emilie always haunting the narrative!!!

and Nathalie hating to face her--in some way, a cowards way out--but offering her a solace, a friend, someone who will genuinely and wholesomely be happy to see her. !!

"his door is not locked - not like yours so often is -" O H OH OH HELLO!! who locked it!!! does she understand on some level or is it Nathalie, protecting her, or Gabriel keeping her from leaving!!

him stuttering over her name and her asking if he'd rather something else GUTS me. the layers. "...no, he says, not yet." UGH!!! nemali please!!!

"you think your heart would be pounding in your chest - if you had one." EMMY ESCAPE THE HOUSE ESCAPE THE NARRATIVE I AM OUTSIDE THE GATE!!

thank you thank you thank you aaaaaa I genuinely LOVED this and I'm literally so over the moon at everyone who has sent in ideas and art and I love!!! this idea and how people are using it and yours, as always, are outstanding <3

oh emmy..... alexa play what was I made for.....!!!

#sentiemilie au #asukies answered #fic snippet #ILYSM!!!#I had a birthday dinner for someone else so I just got home and was OVER THE MOON to see you send something in #I need to outline faster I need fics of her i need fanart I need----#miraculous ladybug

48 notes · View notes

miraculouslbcnreactions · 5 days ago

Note

I've been rereading your "Gabriel redemption/corruption/canon mess of ideas post", and I remembered an old idea of mine: Gabriel driven insane by the Butterfly miraculous.

This is an artifact that allows you to sense the negative emotions of All of Paris. And then mentally connect to the person in whom the negative emotions are currently strongest.

It's less about "can this power drive anyone insane" it's more about "is there a chance this power wouldn't drive anyone insane?"

Worse, Gabriel uses this power constantly. Gabriel uses this power for shady purposes. Gabriel uses this power when already in an unstable state after losing his wife.

From a storytelling point, this neatly explains:

1) why Gabriel could go worse and worse as time progresses

2) why Gabriel's behaviour may be inconsistent (consistent behaviour doesn't combine well with sensory-overload magical madness and he is saner when untransformed)

3) why Butterfly Miraculous is so powerful (because this power is balanced with the great risk of using it)

At the same time, it is a trope known well enough to work well even in children's shows. In fact, I thought this idea may be canon, but then season 5 happened.

What do you think of this idea?

P. S. As always, thank you for your analysis, you are a treasure for the fandom!

Thank you for the lovely words! I'm flattered that you enjoy the blog so much!

I'm on the record as saying that evil Kwamis are about the only way to fix canon, so of course I love you idea! That post was about fixing canon post season five, though, so let's focus more on the butterfly itself.

Canon doesn't really explain how the heck the butterfly works. We get moments like this one from Sandboy:

Hawk Moth: I feel an emotion of great intensity. So pure… (turns a butterfly into an akuma) Fly away my little akuma and evilize him!

But why this happens is confusing. The butterfly isn't the miraculous of Emotion. That's the peacock. The butterfly is Transformation. Which is silly, so we're ignoring that. The butterfly is absolutely written to be Emotion in terms of almost everything about how it functions, so as far as I'm concerned, it's Emotion. Gabriel senses emotions with it and is even implied to have to pick what powers he gives based on the person's emotions as we see in Risk:

Shadow Moth: I need a villain who will force Ladybug to take risks, and without even realizing it, (corrupts a butterfly into a Megakuma) she'll make a mistake! (Shadow Moth closes his eyes to search for any strong negative emotions.) Extra 1: Great, of course my keys disappear from my bag just when I have to go out. Xavier: Now even benches have empty pigeon spikes on them? Oh, my poor friends... Froggy's Dad: Froggy, come back! It's too dangerous! Froggy: Why are you always scared of everything? I want to ride my bike without a helmet, without training wheels! Shadow Moth: (Open his eyes.) Perfect! Fly away, my Megakuma, and plague that deceived heart!

You could absolutely take this setup and use it to craft a narrative where Gabriel's actions are at least partially driven by the effects of feeling everyone else's emotions weighing down on him. This is extra true when you remember that Gabriel is supposed to be grief stricken. We are rarely at our best when we are mourning profound loss and the show really failed to lean into that fact even though the writers clearly wanted Gabriel to be sympathetic.

In my own rewrite, I heavily rely on these elements to shape Gabriel and Nathalie's characters. She may not use the butterfly, but she's also supposed to be mourning Emilie (or, at least, she is as of season five. I'm pretty sure that's a retcon, but it's something I changed to make her character work, so I'm cool with it.) That is a much stronger basis for Nathalie supporting Gabriel than the tired old trope of women doing stupid things because of men. (Don't get me wrong, we do, I just find it boring in most situations. It would only work in canon if the love square was supposed to be positive romantic love and Nathalie was supposed to be toxic romantic love, but the love square is toxic as hell and even "ends the world" so bleh )

I will peel back the curtain a little bit and give you one of my favorite ideas for making something like this work: if you have Emilie in a coma and not dead, then her brain would still be active. She'd still be experiencing emotions. Doesn't it make perfect sense for Gabriel to stay transformed 24/7 so that he can sense what is left of his wife, assuring himself that she's still there? And if the magic needs to stay secret, then of course that would mean that he never comes out of his home office because that's the only safe place to transform. And if you add in Gabriel being weak to the emotions of others, well, I think that has potential for something interesting, don't you?

#alexunbroken #lore discussion #Gabriel deserves better #Sympathetic Gabe my darling tragic villain how I love you #Not enough to redeem you but the love is still there #I prefer him as a tragedy and contrast to Adrien #Healthy grief and love vs unhealthy grief and love #Not that canon gave us that but a girl can dream

27 notes · View notes

kupo-theincendiary · 2 months ago

Text

the first thing i post from my au and its this shitty low effort comic i drew at 1am. the reason this is the first thing i post from my au is because its 1.36am. (1.47 now how did i spend that long on tags)

gah im so tired.

edit: to clarify, gabriel is intentionally not telling nathalie that adrien is cat noir

42 notes · View notes

juunpiter · 4 months ago

Text

I miss her. That’s all I have to say.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #miraculous lb #mlb art #mlb fanart #nathalie sancoeur #mayura #my art #she #tired

51 notes · View notes

daxerian · 1 year ago

Text

Assignment done

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: nothing just extra pure fluff 😏

Words: 3.4k

A/n: I love this piece❤️

You and your boyfriend Lando Norris were visiting your hometown, so that mean why book a hotel when you can stay with your family in your childhood bedroom. Now you and Lando were just talking about life when your little sister burst open the door panicking.

"Y/N I need your help, I don't know what to do" Avery said it fast but you understood, "What happened Avery? Why are you panicking?" you asked her. "Since it's one of the last days before end of the school year my teacher assigned this project I forgot about and I have all the materials ready, I just can't do it alone" Avery spoke with stress in her voice, of course she is stressed, who wouldn't be? "What's the project about Ry?" Lando asked her even though he was tired, "I need to make this thing like a miniature room but I need to make the room inspired by what I want to do in the future" Avery told him, "Okay, then what are we waiting for?" Lando answered her.

“So what is your vision for this Ry?” You asked, “I want to work in F1, not like a driver of course but mayble like an reporter? Avery answered you.

And Lando couldn't contain his excitement as Avery revealed her dream of working in Formula 1. His eyes sparkled with admiration and pride, knowing that his passion had ignited a similar fire within Avery's heart.

"Avery, that's incredible!" Lando exclaimed, unable to hide his enthusiasm. "You know, there are so many opportunities in the world of Formula 1. I'd be more than happy to help you explore different career paths and introduce you to some amazing people in the industry. Like Lissie or Nathalie"

Avery's face lit up with a mix of excitement and gratitude. She couldn't believe her luck. Not only was she fortunate enough to have a supportive sister like Y/N, but now she had Lando Norris, a Formula 1 driver, willing to guide her on her journey.

Over the next few days, the dining room transformed into a bustling workshop. Y/N, Lando, and Avery worked tirelessly, bringing Avery's vision to life. They meticulously crafted tiny race cars, a miniature pit lane, and even a tiny press conference area, complete with reporters and cameras.

As they worked, Lando shared stories from his own racing experiences, giving Avery a glimpse into the thrilling world of Formula 1. He explained the importance of teamwork, dedication, and perseverance, inspiring her to chase her dreams fearlessly.

Finally, after 4 days of hard work, the miniature room was complete. Avery's eyes shimmered with joy and pride as she surveyed the intricate details and vibrant colors. It was a testament to her passion and determination. With tears of happiness in her eyes, Avery hugged Y/N and Lando tightly.

"Thank you both so much," she whispered.

"I couldn't have done it without you. This project is not just about a miniature room, it's a symbol of my dreams taking shape."

Y/N and Lando beamed with pride, knowing that they had played a small part in helping Avery discover her passion. They knew that this project was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey for Avery, one that would lead her to the world of Formula 1 and beyond.

As they celebrated their accomplishment, the dining room filled with laughter and love, reinforcing the unbreakable bond between Y/N, Lando, and Avery. Together, they knew they could conquer any challenge and support each other's dreams, no matter how big or small.

#f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

339 notes · View notes

snek-of-eden · 2 months ago

Text

nathalie headcanons !!! slightly based ofc

girlie has sensory issues

she fences in her spare time and spars with Adrien to help him practice

she isn’t great with social queues and masks really really hard to the point where she’s just got a constant stress headache

when she’s tired, she’ll drink green tea

her showers are always scalding, like depths-of-hell type hot

she’s been sober for three and a half years

daddy issues. enough said

sometimes she misses the days when Adrien was little, he’s so grown up now, but she’s also very proud of him

she has a locked folder on her personal phone which has enough screenshotted evidence to send Gabriel to jail for ten years

she has some of Emilie’s artwork and designs tattooed on her

secretly had a trashy tv phase

high! functioning! anxiety! also seasonal depression just like Adrien

she knows how to play violin

she has a belly button piercing

allergic to pears, they make her go into anaphylaxis

she gives pretty much the best hugs known to man, as both Adrien and Marinette can attest to

you cannot tell me that she has not hooked up with a woman at some point in her life. you simply cannot

when she thought she was going to die because of using the damaged peacock miraculous, she wrote a will giving everything she possessed to Adrien

she smells like the dull scent of perfume and the sharp scent of clothing starch

she’s an alright cook, but pretty much the only dish she can make without a recipe is soup. if you want soup you’re in luck

sometimes when she feels particularly sentimental, she’ll put on a tiny bit of Emilie’s perfume to feel like she’s not so alone

feel free to add more or agree or disagree lol

#nathalie sancoeur #miraculous ladybug #my wife #max’s mind #my posts

27 notes · View notes

foxwitchaine · 2 months ago

Note

Question

Which characters from other media, do you think is a better version of miraculous ladybug characters?

I'm gonna take this question with a huge pile of salt. Because there's more than one show that does this concept better than what MLB does. That also includes how they handle the cast. I'm also gonna sound like a broken record with the upcoming "buckle up", but buckle up and hold on tight, everyone. It's gonna be a rollercoaster.

1.) Mr. Freeze

I know for sure I'm cheating just by mentioning him, but Mr. Freeze is what Gabriel Agreste should have been in regards to his quest for Emilie. Mr. Freeze isn't just a sad man mourning for his wife. He is broken. Shattered. Screwed over by people higher on the corporate ladder than himself (doesn't that sound familiar). Thing is, Mr. Freeze's story resonates with people and is part of the reason why he is still talked about today. He's also shown a kinder side, like the time he made it snow during Christmas in one issue of The Batman Adventures comics. All for the simple reason his late wife would have been sad if there had been no snow that year.

His demise in Batman Beyond left many viewers heartbroken, as we're left wondering what could have been.

Gabriel Agreste, on the other hand, is utterly and thoroughly selfish and thinks of no one but himself. This is best seen in how he treats his son throughout the show. Disregarding Season 5 (I have no idea how they thought they could pull it off), Gabriel has not shown one ounce of humanity. Not towards Nathalie, not towards Adrien, not even towards his wife, who he supposedly loves. Other than the show telling us how much he loved her (this is a recurring problem with MLB's writing), we never would have known.

Gabriel's death in Season 5, as a result, is much less impactful than Mr. Freeze's death in Batman Beyond.

2.) Madoka Kaname

Now this is a more recent show that I still think holds up. For those not in the know, Puella Magi Madoka Magica is a 12-episode anime series that aired in 2011 and, for lack of a better word, changed the game in magical girl anime. While one could argue that it tears down rather than celebrates women in power (as magical girl shows are supposed to do, Astruc), and it's not the most original concept (what is, nowadays), one thing most can agree on is the character writing, especially for Madoka.

Madoka, just like Marinette, is a selfless sweetheart who performs the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good. What separates her from Marinette, tellingly enough, is how her sacrifice is written. Throughout the anime, Madoka watches helplessly from the sidelines as her best friend Sayaka sacrifices herself for a boy. And then Sayaka gradually loses herself as the truth about magical girls comes to light. We aren't just told how Madoka feels about it. We see and feel it ourselves. I could write an essay on how well-written Sayaka's tragedy is, but that's beside the point. The point is, Madoka chose the sacrifice rather than having it forced on her by the writers.

Sound familiar?

It should.

Gen Urobuchi, despite his reputation, took the time to respect Madoka's agency as a character. Thomas Astruc tears down Marinette every chance he gets. You can't get more telling than this.

3.) Prince Zuko

You're all probably gonna get tired of hearing me talk about Avatar: The Last Airbender. But then again, I'm pretty sure every ATLA fan has heard that in the years since the original show ended. I've mentioned him before when talking about Chloe's botched redemption, but I feel this is the perfect place to expand and discuss more.

Prince Zuko is what Chloe Bourgeouis should have been in the show. And no, his redemption didn't come out of nowhere. It was consistently foreshadowed throughout the show all the way from the very first episode. This is an essay all in itself, so I'll refrain from diving into detail. But the fact of the matter remains that Zuko is the gold standard for writing a villain redemption. I could point out Darth Vader as another example of a villain redemption. But where he had to die to redeem himself, Zuko didn't.

Zuko also had a better-written backstory that explained (not excused, there's a difference) his behavior at the start of the show. I can't claim to know what the MLB writers had in mind when writing Chloe, but I'm pretty sure Audrey Bourgeois was supposed to be the Ozai figure in Chloe's backstory. Which leads me to my next point:

Zuko wasn't forgiven right away.

Yes. You heard that right.

Zuko had to work to be forgiven by the people he had wronged. And guess what? He failed. If anyone remembers when Azula critically injured Aang and Zuko betrayed Iroh to the Fire Nation, you'll all know what I'm talking about.

Zuko fell during his redemption arc. But he got back up again. And he apologized — genuinely apologized — to the man he betrayed.

4.) Odd Della Robbia

Code Lyoko is a relic from the early 2000s eras of cartoons. And boy, could I write essay after essay on this show. But since we're talking about characters and such, we'll be focusing on this lovable jokester from the show.

Odd Della Robbia is what Chat Noir should have been if he had been in the hands of competent writers. Odd isn't just the perpetually hungry jokester of the group who chased the first pretty girl who caught his attention. He pulled his weight in the battles against the malevolent AI X.A.N.A. Be it through helping Aelita reach the Towers, fighting Specters in the real world, heck even fending off Sissi during her worst moments. Perhaps even more damning is how Odd, despite his less pleasant actions and habits, was more of a true friend to his group than Chat Noir is to Ladybug.

Yes, writers. You can write a jokester character beyond what comes from his mouth.

No, this doesn't mean you can let them harass everyone they come across.

Perhaps, I'm gonna say this a lot, even more damning is how Odd responds to the rejections from the various pretty girls he chases. He actually takes no for an answer. Shocking, isn't it. He chases a skirt, they say no, he moves on. And no, this isn't portrayed as romantic or heroic. It's portrayed just as it is. A hormonal teenage boy being prone to doing stupid things.

What teenager hasn't done something stupid thanks to their hormones?

5.) Susan Ashworth

(Content Warning: mature themes such as suicidal depression)

I'm venturing into mature video games here, admittedly. I couldn't quite find one from my childhood that stood out, so I browsed through some game playthroughs I watched years ago. Ultimately, I settled on Susan Ashworth from the 2012 game The Cat Lady. Astruc being a man shouldn't be an excuse for him writing Marinette and other female characters so poorly. Why? Because Susan Ashworth, and by extension the game she is from, was written by a man.

Funny. I know.

What's even more amazing is how the developer Remigiusz Michalski, who publishes his games under the label Harvester Games, tackled such serious topics such as depression and suicide. No, he didn't use them for shock value, as that's very commonly done very tactlessly. He handled them with maturity and grace. Susan isn't defined by her depression even though she successfully committed suicide in the opening of the game. She has moments of humor and snark, like in the scene where Mitzi is showing her how to use social media. It also helps that Michalski... actually knows what he's talking about, as it's stated in interviews that he worked as a nurse before he created the first game Downfall in 2009.

I can't stress enough the importance of research before writing. Astruc clearly has a lot of ideas he wants to shove into Miraculous Ladybug, but they all fall flat due to a glaring lack of research and preparation. I'm not saying go do gruesome things for your craft and stick to "write what you know". I'm saying know what you're getting into before you dive in. One glaring example I think everyone can agree was poorly handled was Qilin, thanks to plot with the racist ticket inspector.

Michalski clearly knew what he was doing when he wrote Susan's story. Astruc continues to flail in his attempts to keep Miraculous Ladybug relevant.

Honorable Mentions:

Ratchet and Clank, Jak and Daxter - This is how you write snarky hero and sidekick duos

Jerry, from Totally Spies - Come on. You all knew as soon as I mentioned Code Lyoko that this guy would come up

Mandy, also from Totally Spies - She's very entertaining despite being the high school queen bee archetype. It also helps that she consistently faced punishment for her actions

Sissi Delmas, from Code Lyoko - I was gonna use her in place of Zuko just for the fact she showed other traits, such as her protectiveness of Milly during the zombie episode

Uncle Iroh - Do I even need to say it out loud?

KOS-MOS, from the Xenosaga trilogy - She's an excellent example of how to slowly unveil a character throughout the story

Tidus and Yuna, from Final Fantasy X - A really good example of how to write a romance into the story without dragging the plot down

Fiona Belli, from Haunting Ground - A bit polarizing, I know, but Fiona's friendship with Hewie is so heartwarming and grounding. Basically what Chat Noir should have also been to Ladybug

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt #mlb salt #ml writing salt #mlb writing salt #writing salt #gabriel salt #batman animated series #puella magi madoka magica #avatar the last airbender #code lyoko #the cat lady

17 notes · View notes