#sorry tumblr is my emotional dumping ground

[faunandfloraas]

im so glad im not the only person that looks at seungmin and goes "❓tism❓" bc he is Way Too Relatable to me as a person w autism

yeah..... like I say it in jest but also..... well, yk. sometimes you notice something and you notice something and you notice something and you go Hmmmm

[sciderman]

Your post about balls and their inherent attractiveness made me wonder who you are attracted to? If you don’t mind me asking of course! I don’t mean to pry.

I’m just curious because you’re such a multifaceted person and gender and sexuality are so multifaceted. You mentioned that like, you don’t think you’re this icon of gender that everyone thinks you are but I don’t think you’re as far off as you think you are. You’ve never (at least that I have seen) claimed to have it all figured out. You sort of just walk into the room and go, “This is what I’m doing right now! Is it what I’ll be doing tomorrow? I don’t know!” It’s very David Bowie. So I thought maybe in terms of your sexuality you’ll likely be in a similar state of, “I know what I don’t like, but I’m still discovering what I do like because every day is a new adventure!”

hmm!! hmm... i think it's tough to pinpoint, because i've not had a lot of crushes in my time with people i know on a personal level - and, i haven't really been in a lot of relationships, and when i have it's usually been people pursuing me and me just, giving up the fight (sighs) - but when i do have a crush it's usually an emotional bond that makes them so attractive to me. it's not that they're not physically attractive too, of course they are, but it's kind of the emotional side that makes every little bit of them homina homina, you know. not to be gay about it.

i think even celebrity crushes i have are more about their inexplicable vibes more than their physical features. vibes have to be immaculate. i need to think "yeah. i wanna hang out with them. i think they could make me laugh."

though of course there's people out there who are objectively gorgeous, and i'm not immune to that. i know when someone's gorgeous. i - well, i don't know. i'm just (waves hands around) bisexual. i'm very bisexual. i find a lot of people attractive. from all parts of the gender and aesthetic spectrum. i don't think i could point at one thing and say "oh so that's what does it for me" - i think maybe just... enthusiasm and good vibes. friendly and approachable. not intimidating. kissable (whatever that means).

i'm easily scared away by people who seem intense. because i'm very skittish. so... people that are approachable and make me feel comfortable and safe, yeah. god. feeling safe with someone. yeah. that gets me hot under the collar. when i'm with someone i can feel free and comfortable with, and they kind of get it - and they know how to not scare me away, that's great. i've had a lot of interest in me from a lot of people that just kind of didn't get me, or think i'm something else, and all i want to do is get out of that situation. i can't do it, i can't do it. it - it kind of makes relationships difficult for me. because it's almost a given that if someone is thinking of me in a sexual context they're misinterpreting me. it - it kind of stinks. like, i should be responsive, maybe, but it never feels comfortable, for me. i wish it felt right. it very rarely does. so - so i've turned down so, so many people. and i beat myself up about being "scared" or whatever, but - i don't think it's true. if it feels right it feels right. if it doesn't feel right - you can't - you can't force yourself to think that it is. and every time i've bitten the bullet, it - it doesn't work. because it wasn't right. sometimes i think there's something wrong with me. but - i... i don't know. i've had this realisation that nearly all of the intimate relationships i've ever had, i've been a bit of a cornered animal. and i hate that realisation. it kind of stinks to realise that. kicks the dirt. god, i need more positive experiences.

i definitely feel more comfortable with afab people - i've - well, i've never had a positive encounter with anyone amab. not a one. i know that i shouldn't hold it against them, but it does something about my degree of comfort, yep. and i just think afab parts are prettier. (i'm right. they are.)

but i think, you know, while everybody has their clothes on, i don't really have preferences when it comes to femme vs masc, really. like when it comes to actors and things it's a 50/50 split on what actors or actresses i find attractive. in my day-to-day i'm probably more attracted to femme-presenting people, but that's generally because they put a little bit more effort into it, and their clothes and make-up are so, so pretty. i love when people display their emotions or their energy through their wardrobe. when people express themselves with all their colours or whatever. when you get a sense of who they are, and what they're about, just by looking at them. people who light up a room. i love those people. you generally find that more with femme-presenting people, and i love those girls. stay loud and proud, my girlies...

in my mind, in my subconscious, whenever i have dreams (that aren't a sordid threeway - i have a lot of those - usually with one gorgeous girl and a large, ominous faceless man) - dreams about who i'm going to wind up with, they're almost always femme-presenting. usually my age. sometimes older. shrugs. don't know what it means. just that's where my brain is at. i don't think it has to be true, but - guess it's where my brain is at.

my dad still insists that i'll end up with a man. i almost want to not, just to spite him. whenever i mention i'm attracted to a male actor he says "oh. so you are straight." he thinks i'm just confused. he says to me, "you're confused and that's okay." so i think that might be just about the full extent of acceptance i'll get from him. shrugs. i'm confused, i guess. i don't know. i think this particular thing i don't think i should or will have an answer. i don't think i'm confused. i don't feel like i need to sort it out. my options are open. i'm not scared about whatever will come. whatever is meant to happen will happen. that's - just, i guess, that's how i see it. whatever is meant to happen will happen. and it's not a problem that it hasn't happened yet. because i guess it wasn't meant to.

i think my gender stuff was always a priority - it always came first. i had my gender awakening LOOOONG before my sexual awakening (my sexual awakening like. only happened like. two years ago. honest to god.) i remember it being a bit of a problem - when i was forging my gender path back in high school, and a lot of people thought it meant something. meant that i was a cute boy who was up for dating girls. when actually i was the kind of boy who was not into girls yet. i was too busy being into comic books. i think even now, sex just - isn't my priority. it's just - it's more important for me to find people that see me for me. see me for what i am, and the sex can come later.

it's just - it's stupid, really. i find a million of you guys online who kind of get it. you're freaky weird gender like me but - in real life - i have no idea how to explain myself. i have no idea how to market myself. i can't use dating websites because i think people on both sides are going to be disappointed. and absolutely everyone who's romantically interested in me in person doesn't know how to approach me as what i am. they approach me wrong, and it scares me away on impact because - because whatever they think i am, i'm not. i'm not a butch lesbian, i'm not a transguy, i'm not a girl, i'm not a boy, i'm not... i don't know, i'm not easily marketable. i can't find my demographic. i've only found my demographic here, in my weird little spider-man corner of the internet. with likeminded freaky gendered spider-man nerds, i guess. i think maybe my dating life would be easier if i could just be one thing. but... (waves hands around) i can't do it. i can't force myself into a box for the sake of being more easily marketable. i just can't do it.

[sugarfortia]

i will continue to use entertainment media as a way to ignore my problems

[victoria-daydreams]

The Winner Takes It All || Challengers

Part I: Sugar & Spice

AN: Oh my god, taking a 6 week summer course 0/10 don't recommend. Seriously, y'all I'm sorry this took so long, I've had assignments due every week and I still have 2 more weeks to go so it will be awhile before another update, but oh my gosh guys, thank you so goddamn much to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented! This chapter is hella long so hopefully this will make up to you! I've never written a character that's messy nor have I written a toxic friendship so I'm praying that it's somewhat accurate.

Trigger warnings: It gets real hot and heavy by the end of the chapter so MDNI!

Word Count: 6.3k

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopeless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kailkailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everdayimagineer @pnkstalli @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey @summerssoverover @hummusxx @callumturnerwife23 @whitewashedghanian @brunettegirl

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don’t know if you’ll get the notification.

Part Two: Maneaters

THREE MONTHS EARLIER - MAY, 2006

For the past ten minutes, Gianna had done nothing but blankly stare up at the ceiling of her sun filled bedroom. Splayed out on the soft, gray carpet, she laid in the middle of the floor as "Girl" by Destiny's Child played quietly in the background. A slow release of air escaped her lips, a weak effort to calm her overwhelmed mind that was currently battling a maelstrom of emotions. Gianna lifted her head up from the carpet and looked to her right.

"Maybe I was too hasty with breaking up with Drew," she remarked, a note of doubt creeping into her voice and tainting her usual confidence.

A small, thoughtful frown creasing her features before letting her head drop back on the floor with a soft thud.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Gia?"

Gianna wasn’t alone in her bedroom. Glancing sideways, her gaze landed on waves of brunette hair, warm golden skin, and nude plump lips. Tashi’s and Gianna’s heads laid beside one another, their bodies sprawled in the opposite direction.

"He was not worthy of any of your attention," Tashi stated, a sneer curling her lips. "Drew failed to realize who was the prize in your relationship," she added

For Gianna and Tashi, this was not an uncommon occurrence, lying side-by-side on the floor of Gianna's bedroom discussing tennis or boys. But, it was this aspect of their friendship that raised more than a few people's eyebrows, including both of their parents. Tashi exerted an unhealthy amount of influence over Gianna's love life. Gianna could probably count on one hand the amount of boyfriends she dumped based solely on Tashi’s input. There was always some type of flaw, big or small, which Tashi would zero in on to determine whether or not if a boy was right for Gianna. And was that oh so terrible?

Tashi was only looking out for her friend, weeding out the bad apples until Gianna meets the perfect guy. However, deep down they both know there was never going to be a boy that would meet Tashi's ever changing standards. There was no point, not when Tashi Duncan was the standard by which all boys would be judged and there was no one comparable to her, she was the cream of the crop.

"Drew's a little forgetful, but there could be worst qualities in a boyfriend," Gianna said airily.

"He's a future CTE candidate, Gia," Tashi said flatly. "How many matches did Drew 'forget' to come to?"

"He has his own football games and practices he has to attend," Gianna excused.

Tashi scoffed, "Doing what, riding the bench?" she retorted. "You need a boy who’s utterly devoted to you, worships the ground you step on," Tashi reasoned.

Gianna let out a dry, breathy laugh which sounded more like an exhale of air. Turning her head, she looked back up at the ceiling with her hands resting on her stomach.

"That's the difference between you me and Tash," Gianna began, looking back over to her. "I don’t want to be deified by a boy," she revealed, shaking her head.

"Why? Is it because my devotion is enough for you?" Tashi questioned, a smirk on her lips.

"Yeah, something like that," Gianna answered, her own lips quirking upwards.

"Hey," Tashi called, raising her pinky finger. "Pinky promise boys won"t come between us,"

"Easiest promise to keep," Gianna said, lifting up her pinky finger. "I promise boys will not come between us," she swore, hooking her finger with Tashi's.

Tilting her head forward, Tashi pressed a kiss to Gianna's forehead.

"We don't need them anyway, not when we have each other,"

~~~x~~~

There was nothing but Gianna's breathing and her music blasting as she tuned out the world. Her feet barely touched the ground as her arms pumped quickly back and forth at her side. It was a beautiful day for a morning run, the sky cerulean blue, littered with a few wispy clouds. Gianna's skin was hot and flushed, and sweat beaded at her hairline; the hot, humid summer air biting at her lungs. Luckily, a faint breeze kept off the worst of the heat.

As the notes of "If" by Janet Jackson came to end, Gianna had finished her run. Her pace slowed to a jog, then to a walking pace with her eyes closed, catching her breath.

"On your left,"

Gianna's eyes popped open to see a familiar, strawberry blond haired boy next to her, his tennis gear resting on his shoulder. A breathy chuckle left Gianna as the beat of "I Wanna Be Down" floated into her ears. Pausing the iPod tucked away in her arm band, she removed her earbud on her left side.

"Hey you!" Gianna greeted, smiling at Art and coming to a stop.

"Hey Gianna," he greeted back, with a shy smile of his own. "I didn't expect to see you out here until later on at the match," he commented.

"Oh, why is that?"

"I figured you'd be resting from your match yesterday," Art replied. "It's well earned after all,"

Gianna gave a small, amused huff, "It couldn't be any clearer that you have not met father yet," she joked, shaking her head. "This is punishment for losing to Irina in the semifinals," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Art frowned slightly, "That's not really fair," he remarked, adjusting his grip on his bag. "A line call decided your match," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, if I played smarter and better, then it wouldn't have," Gianna countered easily. "My dad believes the same," she added, crossing her arms together.

"Your dad takes your tennis career pretty seriously, it's admirable," Art commented. "Most parents would just treat it as expensive hobby,"

"I hope he would he would take it serious, he is my coach after all," Gianna revealed, watching Art's eyes slightly widen in surprise.

"Guess that explains why you didn't want Patrick and I to walk you back last night," Art noted. "You were already past your curfew, but then to show up with two boys by your side…" he trailed off, sucking his teeth . "I'm sure that would’ve made for a fun conversation," he joked.

"Trust me, my dad would've gotten creative with his workout plan had the three of us shown up together," she assured. "You headed to the stadium?" she asked, nodding her head at his gear.

"Yeah, gotta start preparing for the big match today," he answered.

"Mind if I walk with you there? It would be a great cool down for me,"

"As if I would say no to Gianna Langdon," Art responded, grinning at her.

Walking alongside each other, the two of them found themselves consumed in idle chit chat. Art was an only child, Gianna was the youngest of four siblings. He started playing tennis because his parents took him to a match, she began playing because her father withdrew her from ballet after he saw her play one match of rec tennis. Art was born and raised in Upstate New York, Gianna was raised on a ranch in New Orleans most of her life until moving to California.

"I've always wanted to meet a real life cowgirl," he teased.

They drifted into a brief, companionable silence for a moment before a thought occurred to Gianna. She turned her head in Art's direction, smiling a little.

"So, a little birdie told me, this is a high stakes match today," Gianna mentioned, a knowing smirk on her lips.

"You could say that," he agreed sheepishly, his face instantly flushing.

"I also heard that some fun was had last night," Gianna hinted, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Art's face reddened deeper, "We did..."

"A shame I had to miss it, but you know what they say," Gianna began, interlocking her fingers behind her back. "Three's a party, four is a crowd," she quoted, with a small shrug.

"Not with you it wouldn't have been," Art disagreed quickly, looking over at her.

His intense eyes stared at her, through her. With it being daylight, Gianna could now fully appreciate how striking his eyes were. One was blue, while the other was partially brown and blue. Gianna let a bashful laugh, looking ahead to escape Art's gaze while pointedly ignoring the warmth blossoming within her. In the distance, the Arthur Ashe Stadium was peeking over the horizon.

"Hey Gianna," Art called, as the two stopped at the gates of the Billie Jean King Tennis Center.

"Yeah?"

"I’ve got a question for you that I’ve been dying ask you," Art said, both turning to face each other.

"Ask away," she answered, with a chuckle.

Art glanced down at the Gianna, completely towering over her.

"Why didn't you and Tashi compete in the girls duo this year?" Art questioned. "You two would've mopped the floor with your competition as you usually do," he remarked, a small, exhaling laugh leaving him.

"Well, I couldn’t do the girls singles, the mixed doubles, and girls doubles all at the same time. It would’ve been a scheduling nightmare, not to mention downright exhausting, so a decision had to be made," she explained, mindlessly twirling her earbud around in small circles.

"And Tashi decided—"

Her earbud twirling ceased, "Tashi, didn't decide anything. I did," Gianna corrected sharply, feeling a vein pulse at her temple.

Irritation threatened to surface on her face, but Gianna managed to keep her composure. It was that, the implication that she was not capable of making her own decisions as a player without Tashi being her invisible, guiding hand. Momentarily, neither of them said anything. Art's eyes flicked over her face, as if studying her expression.

"What is he looking for?"

"Oh my god, I've offended you, haven't I?" Art realized, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Apology accepted, though I shouldn't have been short with you either," Gianna replied, folding her arms together. "But, you see how you just automatically assumed it was Tashi, when it was me who didn’t want to do it?" she pointed out, sighing tiredly. "It's for that exact reason why I wanted to pursue mixed doubles this year," she went on. "I love Tashi to pieces, but as a tennis player, I needed space from her this tournament," she explained, unfolding her arms to gesture with her hands by pulling them away from one another.

"I really didn’t mean to be the cause of a sore subject," Art promised, sincerity ringing in every word.

A half smile appeared on her face, "Art, I just met you 24 hours ago, you didn't cause this,” Gianna reassured, with a dismissive wave. "No, this year I had a point to prove to silence both my haters and critics," she informed, nodding to herself.

"And what point was that?"

"That I couldn't win without Tashi Duncan by my side," Gianna answered, her eyes unconsciously narrowing in the corners.

"Well, I think you shut them up pretty definitively this tournament," Art said, laughing gently. "You won the mixed doubles championship while essentially playing two on one the entire time," he quipped.

She chuckled, "Maybe," Gianna agreed. "However, I didn't get the chance to face Tashi in singles, winning against her and being crowned the girls singles US Open Champion would've been the ultimate 'fuck you' to those who doubt me," she finished, lightly laughing.

"Had you won against Irina, you think you could've beat Tashi?"”" Art asked.

Gianna contemplated his question, briefly casting her eyes downward while toeing the ground with her sneaker. Her mind flash backed to when she was 15 years old, the bellowing war cry that pierced the air from her when she beat Tashi in the Southern California Junior Sectional Championship. A career-defining moment for Gianna, putting her name on the map once and for all and also signaling that Tashi Duncan was not untouchable as most people wanted to believe.

Gianna's eyes focused back on Art, "I do think I could’ve actually," she said, her mouth quirking up just a tiny bit. "Tashi has beaten me several times, but I also have won against her a handful of times too," she continued, rocking a little back and forth on her feet.

"And what does that feel like, beating Tashi Duncan?" Art questioned, slightly leaning closer to her like they were sharing a secret, but his voice was still loud enough for any passerby to hear.

Gianna let a few seconds pass in silence, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. To win against Tashi was akin to eating caviar, it was a rarity and must be savored. It was Gianna's own kind of adrenaline rush, that feeling of euphoric confidence which she swore got more intense after each victory. This brought a full blown smirk, not of arrogance, but pride on Gianna's features.

"Like David slaying Goalith," she responded, triumphantly. "Although, every time I win against Tashi, I don't know things get….weird between us. Sometimes it's only for a few hours, other times it’s the entire day," she remarked, shaking her head. "This never happens when I lose to her, I mean losing is apart of the game. But with her, it's like she can't believe she lost…" Gianna trailed off.

"To me,"

This mere thought bothered her. It was only a hunch, but it was not for the first time this lurking suspicion wormed itself into the back of her mind. Her own mother implied it, that perhaps, their friendship dynamic was not built upon the sturdiest of foundations. Gianna's parents didn't get it though, Tashi was her only friend that really understood her, pushed her to be her best. Her dominant motivation in playing tennis. Tashi was the one where she could always rely on, no matter what. So, until she had any concrete proof, Gianna would continue to deny that notion.

"Gianna?"

Her eyes snapped back to Art, a light summer breeze blew sending a few strands of his curls across his face. The effortless charm he possessed, Gianna could almost guarantee he was unaware he was using it.

Gianna shook her head a little, "I'm sorry, went into a trance there," she apologized, with an embarrassed chuckle. "Must be the run catching up to me," she claimed. "I've wasted enough of your time, you have a match to prepare for," she reminded.

"Hey, there's no such thing as time wasted when talking with you, Gianna," Art corrected. "Who are you betting on today, me or Patrick?" he asked.

"I'm not a betting woman," Gianna quipped. "May the best player win today," she wished. "And for all I know, I may be staring right at them," she commented.

"Maybe," Art echoed.

~~~x~~~

Jogging up the bleachers to the tennis court, Gianna's Vans clanged against the metallic steps with each step, her skort swishing around her legs and her braids dancing across her shoulders. All around her, spectators cheered loudly in the stands as they all awaited for the the boys singles championship match to begin. Gianna strolled towards the center row, greeted by a cheerful Tashi who stood up from her seat once she saw her friend approach from a distance.

"You left me," Gianna greeted, with a fake pout.

"You were taking too long," Tashi retorted playfully, guiding Gianna to sit next to her.

"Yeah, because I was forced to go on a run this morning," Gianna reminded, laughing while pulling her braids back into a half up half down style.

"I got up early too Gia, to go hit around on the court. The only difference between you and I, is that you got sidetracked," she pointed out.

Gianna turned in her seat, "Sidetracked?" she repeated dryly.

"Yes, sidetracked," Tashi affirmed, shifting to face her. "I saw you and Art this morning on my way back from the courts," she said. "You two, however, were to engrossed in your conversation to notice me," she teased, but there was an edge to her voice.

Cocking her head to the side, Gianna chuckled and reached to lightly grasp Tashi's chin in between her forefinger and thumb.

Gianna leaned forward, their noses almost brushing, "Aww, is someone jealous there's another being blessed with my attention?" she teased back, squeezing Tashi's cheeks lightly.

Tashi shook herself free of Gianna's hand with a smirk of her own.

"Babe, come on, I'm just trying to protect your heart," Tashi informed, rolling her eyes in faux exasperation. "You just got out of a relationship, I don't want you to potentially dive head first into another is all," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

She nodded her head, "Oh, is that right?" Gianna questioned, a bright smile on her face, but a challenging glint in her eyes.

Suddenly, a man over the speakers announced the names of the two contenders in the championship match. Both Tashi and Gianna turned to the court, watching Patrick and Art walk out before drop their gear down on their respective benches.

"Oh my God! Sugar and Spice! Can I please take a picture with you two?"

Gianna's eyes flitted from the court and to the right of her where an adoring fan stood.

"Why, of course!" Gianna exclaimed, waving the girl over. "Tashi, you take the picture, you have the longest arm out of all of us," she stated.

After posing for the photo and signing an autograph for the fan for good measure, Gianna refocused her attention to the boys below. Instantly, she met two pairs of eyes looking back at her and Patrick raised his racket in Tashi and Gianna's direction with a cocky grin. From the corner of her vision, she could see Tashi playfully roll her eyes at Patrick while applauding with the rest of the crowd. Not wanting Art to be left out, Gianna sent a small wave to him which Tashi mirrored, both flashing smiles at him. At this, Art beamed, giving them a brilliant grin as he waved back.

Gianna softly nudged Tashi in the side, "Ignoring your spying—" she began, but Tashi's light scoff interrupted her. "You should know, because I love you so much, that I made sure to put the cherry on top on this match so you can watch some 'real fuckin tennis' today," she informed, lazily looking over to her friend.

"How?" she asked, raising her brow.

"I told Art that I might be looking at the best player after wishing him good luck," Gianna divulged, her lips curling upwards. "I'm sure he relayed that message to Patrick in the spirit of competitiveness," she reasoned smugly, crossing one leg over the other. "Not only are they playing for our numbers, now they're playing to see who I’ll crown as best," she added.

Tashi laid her hand on Gianna's knee, "I could fucking kiss you," she said lowly, squeezing her knee.

A mix of admiration and a hint of hunger sparkled in Tashi's eyes.

"If only, but I don't think Adidas would approve of that," coy smile on her lips

The match began with Patrick being awarded first serve. Bouncing the ball off the blue grass court twice, the brunette lifted his racket to serve it in the non traditional way Gianna has come to know him by. Patrick struck the ball with a resounding pop, as a flash neon yellow went whizzing across the court to Art's side.

He returned the serve with equal force, lobbing it back over the net. In Patrick fashion, he made a big show of returning the hit; a curved shot which flew past Art, who lost his foot and slid a little trying to get to it.

"15-love,"

Immediately, Patrick looked over at the two girls for approval, looking pleased with himself while Art on the other hand gave a look that Gianna could only be described as despair. It went on like that for several minutes, each point scored their heads would whip over to Gianna and Tashi to gauge their reactions, until the boys gradually forgot all about them and did what everyone came here to watch them do. Play some fucking tennis.

Gianna couldn't recall the last time two people looked so hot playing tennis outside of her and Tashi, but Patrick and Art were quickly putting that belief to bed. With every hit that Art made, Patrick would return it with ease. Any advantage that Patrick gained, Art would neutralize it. Their grunts, oh god, don't even let Gianna get started on the grunts echoing in the air, it was the fucking sexiest thing ever to grace her ears. Her body reacted on its own to the sounds, her thighs pressing tighter together against each other than before. Gianna prayed that Tashi hasn’t noticed her reaction yet, but she had an inkling she had because Tashi's grip on her knee had grown in strength.

Another grunt pushed itself past Patrick's lips as he smacked the tennis ball back to Art's side. The impact reverberated in the stadium as Art was able to smoothly counter the shot with a topspin of his, but Patrick came with a drop shot. Sprinting, Art rushed forward to return the ball, but It lands on the ground, his racket only inches away from reaching it.

Patrick Zweig had done it, he was getting Tashi Duncan's and Gianna Langdon's numbers. The dark haired boy turned in their direction and dropped into bow as the girls gave him applause for his performance.

"That was such a godamn good match," Gianna commented, looking at Tashi.

"You see what we were capable of bringing out of them?" Tashi said proudly.

"Ugh, our power!" Gianna exclaimed, a giggle bubbling out of her as Tashi stuck her pinky out for Gianna to link with. A wordless promise between them and Gianna did it without having to think about it.

"Come on, let’s go congratulate the victor," Tashi instructed, standing up and extending her hand out.

Placing her hand in Tashi's, Gianna rose to her feet and two walked away, descending down the bleachers.

"You go on ahead," Gianna replied, coming down the last step. "I'll catch up," she added.

"Hmm," Tashi hummed, her eyes scanning over her in curiosity before leaving towards the exit.

Going in the opposite direction, Gianna made her way back to tennis court and walked to the fence separating the stands and the court. As she approached the fence, she saw Art gathering his gear a bit rougher than necessary.

"On your left!" Gianna called, walking alongside the fence.

Art froze what he was doing and snapped his head up to look in her direction. Instantly, Gianna watched the tension in his shoulders lessen slightly and his jaw unclench.

A small smile tugged at his lips, "Hey you," Art answered, repeating her own words from earlier.

"That was a good match, Donaldson," Gianna complimented, bearing her arms on top of the warm metal.

"Yeah, for Patrick maybe," Art replied, moving closer to the fence. "Seeing how he won the championship and…" he trailed off, now standing in front her.

"Our numbers," Gianna finished.

"Aren't you supposed to be giving that to him, like right now?" Art wondered, attempting to be lighthearted about the situation.

"I like building anticipation, it makes it all the more fun," Gianna joked, causing Art let out a genuine laugh and her smile widened from the sound of it.

"I'm sorry that you were not staring at the best player today, Gianna," Art apologized, his chin dipping a little as he looked down at the ground.

"Hey," she called softly.

Boldly, Gianna reached out to him, using her thumb and index finger to gently lift his chin back up. Her eyes gazed at Art's porcelain neck, as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down at her gesture. Gianna glanced back up at him, his eyes already staring deeply into hers.

"Not today, maybe," she whispered. "But in the future, possibly," she encouraged, feeling his breath fan out shakily against her hand.

"Oh Gianna!"

The sound of Patrick's voice echoing from within the stadium concourse caused her to whip her head around, her fingers falling from Art's chin.

"Can't have spice without sugar!" he yelled.

She smiled, "Coming!" Gianna yelled back, before facing forward again. "I gotta go, see you around?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

Art's eyes darted to her lips, but just as quickly as he did, his eyes found hers. The action didn't go unnoticed by Gianna.

"Yeah,” Art answered, a dazed, blissful smile on his face.

Beaming one last time at him, she spun on her heel and jogged back to the entrance of the concourse where Patrick was already waiting for her, leaning against the wall.

"For the record, I want you to know that was the corniest joke I've ever heard, Zweig," Gianna informed, stopping in front of him as he effortlessly pushed himself off the wall.

"It made you laugh though, didn't it?" Patrick countered easily, taking a hold of her hand as if it was second nature to him.

Gianna could only laugh, letting herself be led away from the bleachers.

~~~x~~~

The Juniors US Open was officially over and Gianna could confidently say playing there was the greatest moments of her life. She glanced back at the Arthur Ashe Stadium that she had passed by only a few minutes prior.

"One day, I’ll be playing in there and the world will know my name," she thought.

Gianna had barely taken two steps from where she stopped when two sets of footsteps fast approaching behind her.

"Gianna!"

"Gianna!"

She stopped mid step, her lips curling into a smirk knowing who was behind her. Spinning around, she was greeted with a slightly winded Art and Patrick.

"Hi boys," Gianna greeted warmly, crossing her arms against her chest.

"So, Patrick and I got to thinking about—" Art began.

"It's your last day in New York," Patrick interrupted, but Art didn’t seem to mind as he nodded his head along to Patrick. "What are you going to do?" he asked curiously.

"You know you could've texted me this?" Gianna pointed out.

"I prefer taking advantage of seeing and speaking to you face to face," Patrick reasoned, which brought a bashful smile to her face.

"I haven't decided yet," Gianna said, finally answering his question.

"You and Tashi don't have plans together already?" Art questioned.

"No, she's spending time with her family before they all go out to dinner," she explained. "So, it'll just be little oh me, by myself today," she mentioned.

"By yourself? Where are your parents?" Patrick questioned.

"I convinced them to have a night on the town, just the two of them. They deserve it," she replied, with a shrug when idea popped into her mind. "You know, my hotel has a pool. You should come," Gianna invited, eyes dancing between them.

"Me?" both boys asked in unison, pointing to themselves.

"Both of you," she clarified with a giggle. "It's not a pack of beer, but I think we can still manage to have some fun" she said.

"What about potentially having to play of 21 questions with your dad because of the two, random white boys by your side?" Art recalled, smiling at her.

Gianna looked over her shoulders before turning back to face them, "I don't my see dad anywhere, do you?" she asked, watching a grin grow on Patrick's lips.

"No I don't,"

"That's what I thought," Gianna agreed. "My hotel at four o'clock, be there or be square," she warned teasingly.

"We didn’t pack swim trunks," Art remarked, the realization dawning on him.

"Oh," Gianna breathed. "Well, I guess another time then," she suggested, going to turn around but stopping once she heard the protests coming from their lips.

"What, wait—"

"I'm sure we can think of something,"

Laughing, she looked back at them, "So, I'll see you there?" Gianna questioned, and the boys nodded eagerly. "I'll text you the address, Patrick, and one more thing," she said.

"Yes," they answered simultaneously.

"My friends call me, Gia,"

~~~x~~~

The moment the doors to the elevator opened up to Gianna's floor, the three of them took off. Running down the hallway, laughing and giggling as they raced each other to her door. Gianna was sure the guests below her and the ones who shared the floor would not be pleased with their heavy footsteps bounding across the floor, but did she really care at the moment, no.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, reaching the door first.

"I let you win, actually," Patrick claimed, coming in just behind her.

She rolled her eyes, "Sure, whatever you say," Gianna said sarcastically, grabbing her key card. "Did you let me win too, Art?" she asked, sticking the card into the door.

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, after all, it is ladies first,"

"Oh fuck off," she laughed.

The door unlocked with a quiet click and she removed the card and pushed it open. Entering the room, the boys followed Gianna into the bright, airy space. Immediately, a shiver ran down her spine, her muscles tensing from the air conditioner blasting.

"God, it's freezing!" she hissed, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Here," Patrick offered quickly, shaking off the stripped linen shirt he was wearing.

He held out his shirt for her to put on. Smiling graciously, turned around Gianna slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"Better?" Patrick murmured, his nose grazing against the shell of her ear.

"Much," she confirmed, smirking to herself.

"I can turn off the AC for you," Art volunteered, scrambling from the door to the other side of the room where the unit was.

"Boys are too fucking easy," Gianna thought.

"Oh, I don't know what I’d do without you two," she teased, unwrapping her towel from her waist. "I'll be right back guys," she informed, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Tossing the towel onto the edge of the tub, Gianna stared at her reflection. Her dark brown eyes almost twinkled in mischief as a sudden, bubbling snicker burst forth from her lips. Gianna clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, shaking her head in amusement at her current situation.

"Holy shit, I cannot believe this is working," she whispered.

Tashi had told her the two boys were egregiously horny, but seeing it in person made it ten times funnier. She had been teasing the moment they got to the pool.

"You think you can help put sunscreen on my back?" Gianna asked, holding out the lotion over her shoulder without looking.

Behind her, she heard loud shuffling before feeling the lounge chair she sat in dip on each side of her.

"You two don't have to fight over the honor," Gianna said, giggling at their antics. "As they say, teamwork makes the dream work," she quoted, before feeling the bottle be pulled from her grasp.

"Y-yeah, sure Gia!" Art said quickly, stumbling over his words.

Sitting up straight, Gianna heard the sunscreen cap crack open and expected to feel the coolness of the cream against her skin soon after. Instead, nothing.

"They're fucking ogling at just the mere sight of my back," she thought.

A devilish grin grew on her face.

"Boys, I'm waiting," Gianna sang playfully.

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry,"

They both nervously laughed a little. To her right, Art slowly placed his hand against Gianna's shoulder, running his palm up and down against her skin to spread the sunscreen. Patrick's fingers slid down her left shoulder blade, alternating between quick movements to spread out the lotion or rubbing deeply along her spine to massage her muscles.

"Ah, thank you boys, you’re doing so well," Gianna praised, as Art's and Patrick’' continued gliding over her back.

Grinning to herself, Gianna stared out across the pool area behind the square frames of her sunglasses. The excited screams of children playing in the water rung through the air, while a decent handful of parents and teenagers sat poolside. Unexpectedly, Gianna locked eyes with two girls across the pool, one blonde and one brunette. Pushing her glasses down slightly, she wordlessly arched a challenging brow at them, maintaining eye contact. Gianna smirked watching as their expressions morphed into a mixture of jealousy and disgust.

Gianna knew why they were staring at her, boys like Patrick and Art were not supposed to be fawning over a girl that looked like her.

The feeling of fingers along her waist and against the small of her back, snapped Gianna from her musings. They precariously close to her bottom and she gently swatted their hands away before they could reach it.

"You two were such wonderful helpers," Gianna complimented, sighing sweetly.

Slipping on a pair of thin shorts, Gianna exited from the bathroom and walked over to the suite living room where Patrick and Art were seated on the couch.

"You know, you could've turned the TV on. You two didn't have to sit in awkward silence," Gianna informed, now standing in front of the with a smile. They let out an embarrassed chuckle as Art's leg began to anxiously bounce up and down. Gianna cocked her head at the sight. "Why are you bouncing your leg, Art? What's got you so nervous?" she questioned curiously, still wearing a smile.

Art only giggled and shrugged his shoulders, "I-I don't know," he stuttered, gazing up at her.

"Well," she began, raising her foot up from the floor. "Stop," she demanded, placing her foot right above his knee. Art froze mid bounce and Gianna watched him visibly swallow. "You're making me nervous," she said, and Art vigorously nodded his head. Gianna shifted her stare to Patrick and he straightened up his posture. "Patrick," she called, batting her eyelashes.

"Yes," he responded, a goofy smile on his face.

"As you said earlier today, it's my last day in New York," Gianna said, smoothly lifting her foot from Art's leg and plopping down onto the couch in the empty space between them. "Wanna make out?" she asked boldly, with a playful and daring smile.

"Fuck, do I ever," Patrick answered quickly, a groan leaving him.

Leaning toward him, Gianna let her lips brush against the corner of Patrick's mouth and almost by instinct his hand came to rest on her hip. Breaths mingling in soft pants, Gianna stared up at him through her eyelashes and he surged forward, pressing his lips fully against hers. A soft, surprised moan escaped Gianna as his lips devoured her own, but she responded just as eagerly. Her tongue dueling with his in a sensual dance for dominance. Gianna's fingers threaded themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, holding Patrick in place as their kiss only deepened. His hand roamed up and down her leg, squeezing appreciatively at the flesh as he went.

His touches set her body aflame with heat, caused little noises to leave her mouth and she pulled away needing air, or else he was going to kiss her dizzy. Their lips barely parted and Gianna breathed out a laugh and Patrick joined her, his sounding almost giddy. She turned to Art who staring at her with the biggest puppy eyes, desperately wanting to be played with. Without hesitation, she guided his mouth onto hers and the noise that left Art was probably the filthiest sound she's ever heard. The deepest moan left him and it reverberated through her entire body.

Teasingly, Gianna bit down on Art's bottom lip pulling it towards her and another groan from Art. He brought his hand up to her neck, cradling her jaw as her tongue lapped at his. This time, there was not a battle for dominance, almost immediately Art allowed Gianna to take control as his other hand ran up and down her thigh. The sudden sensation of warm breath fanning the slope of Gianna's neck, followed by a pair of lips gently kissing down her neck made her moan hotly into Art's mouth.

Leaning back into Patrick, his hands reached around her back and cupped his hand around her breast and squeezed. Another high pitch moan was drawn from Gianna, which Art readily swallowed as their kiss turned greedier as. She trailed her down his chest, caressing his pecs and lightly trailing her fingers down his abs. Her hand found its way to the waistband of Art's shorts and slipped underneath.

Then, Art released the loudest, guttural moan known to man, his face falling into the crook of Gianna's neck.

"O-oh…fuck, Gia,"

Her hand had found his stiff member, and wrapped her fingers around it. Art inhaled sharply as she tightened her grip, placing desperate, feverish kisses to her neck just as she began to move up and down the length of him.

Not a second later, the shrill ringing of her phone playing a distinct ringtone made Gianna jerk away from Art causing pathetic whimpers to escape from him.

"Shit, that’s my mom calling," Gianna informed breathily, her eyes almost fluttering close due to Patrick's continued ministrations.

He kissed her neck lightly, switching between his tongue or his teeth to nip graze the sensitive area.

"So ignore her," Patrick suggested simply.

Art murmured his agreement, mouthing kisses along the length of her throat. Rolling her eyes, Gianna untangled herself from both of them, pushing Patrick's hands from her body and removing her own from Art's.

She hopped up from the couch, much to the displeasure of both Art and Patrick, verbally making it known by their groans of frustration.

"You two have two, have to go," she stated firmly, her finger moving back forth between them.

"Are they even back from dinner?" Patrick asked incredulously.

"No," Gianna answered, and Patrick threw his hands up in disbelief. "But my mom told me she would call to let me know when they were on their back, and I now know," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

"You're really making us go home?"

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here,"

"Gia, come on I-I cant go out like this," Art said, glancing down at the obvious boner poking through his shorts.

"You are today," she retorted, shrugging off Patrick's shirt. She tossed it to Art, hitting him square in the chest. "Here, wear this, tie it around your waist," she instructed, making Patrick snicker.

The next few minutes involved Art trying to will his boner away, but it was losing cause, much to Patrick's amusement before Gianna shuffled them out the door. Just as she was about to close her door, Patrick's hand stopped it.

"Hang on,"

"What Patrick?"

His answer came in the form of him swiftly ducking down to kiss her one last time. Gianna pulled away from the kiss first, placing a hand on his chest.

"Go!" she urged, with a laugh as she pushed him away.

Patrick retreated with a pout and walked away from her door with Art by his side, sending one last boyish grin over his shoulder. Closing the door, Gianna leaned back against the door with the biggest smile.

God, this really was the best Juniors US Open in more ways than one.

Part III: The First Crack

[sixosix]

hiii i fear tumblr may have ate my ask so i'll say it again just in case--if not im so sorry please ignore this i don't mean to rush you or anything :')

wanderer, candy(does that count?), fluff!! :D

(oh oh also can i be 🪐anon/saturn anon? if not thats fine! i just thought i'd ask since i think i've been sending asks consistently enough to identify myself ^^)

notes wc 800; HII your ask wasnt eaten, i was just taking a long time writing the requests LMFAO. of course u can be saturn anon!!! welcome welcome to the blog (this ask was sent a month ago and i am very much late. idek if anon is still active here…) tbh i wrote this and just went with the flow HAHA

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

You unceremoniously dump the pile of imported goods on the table, causing quite a scene in the silence of the House of Daena. They scattered about, and some even clattered onto the floor. You grinned proudly at your friends’ dumbfounded stares.

Tighnari was the first to speak. “I’m assuming you had fun on your vacation in Inazuma?”

“Do you even have money left?” Alhaitham asked, quite incredulously. The most emotion you’ve seen from this month.

It took you a moment to respond, and you felt momentarily distracted by the strange sensation of being watched. “Well, no,” you said eventually. “But I bought all this for you guys! Be more grateful, will you?”

Kaveh clapped his hands. “This is incredible! I haven’t gotten the chance to try any of these local delicacies from Inazuma!”

You nodded approvingly. See? Was that so hard? “Yes, I know. Aren’t I such a good friend? You’re welcome, all of you.”

Belatedly, they mutter their thanks.

You went on a tangent, reciting the food sales pitch you memorized from the sellers, feeling remarkably intelligent. They didn’t have to know that, half the time, you were the personification of a lost tourist/foreigner/idiot in Inazuma and just decided to play it safe and keep most of the souvenirs as food.

They segregated their wanted share and thanked you again. They left you some of the candy, which you had no qualms about eating for yourself. As you all fell into the lull of a conversation, the feeling worsened, and you’ve had enough.

You turned to your friends. “He’s been staring at me for about 30 minutes now…”

They each cast their discreet glances.

“Are you scared?” Kaveh asked worriedly.

“Look at that look in his eye!” you said. “I’ve seen that same look in Rishboland Tigers!”

“He’s not going to eat you,” Tighnari sighed. Well, he wouldn’t know that. Only Alhaitham has met Hat Guy, and he seemed to be amused instead.

“Violence is not permitted in the Akademiya grounds,” Cyno said seriously.

“Maybe it’s not you he’s looking at…?” Tighnari tried.

“Cyno, switch with me,” you ordered.

Wordlessly, he obeyed. The group watched in disbelief as Hat Guy’s gaze simply moved to where you sat next. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Maybe he’s interested because it’s a candy imported from Inazuma,” Cyno supplied thoughtfully.

“That’s a good point. I’m surprised you didn’t make a p—”

“Don’t you mean—” Cyno held up the box that displayed the Inazuman Electro symbol on the front, “shocked?”

You hung your head. You spoke too soon. “OK.”

Tighnari watched your face for a long moment, but it didn’t feel as charged as the guy sitting a few tables away. “You don’t seem to hate the attention,” he concluded at the sight your giddy smile.

“No, I really don’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s smart, and he’s handsome. Of course I’m interested. I just wish he would be a bit more normal about his flirting—if he’s even flirting. Should I give him some?”

You didn’t wait for an answer as your chair scraped backward and you faced Hat Guy directly.

“Make sure it’s just the candy you’re giving!” Kaveh called out.

“I see that Sparks are flying,” Cyno said.

Walking over while you held his gaze was excessively awkward, but it was worthwhile seeing Hat Guy’s little smirk grow like he was pleased you were taking his challenge. It was a bit of a problem, however, that he was undeniably attractive. If he was cute from afar, he was drop-dead gorgeous up close.

“Y/N,” you said, in place of a greeting.

“They call me Hat Guy,” he mused. “Those from Inazuma?”

“Yes.” Suddenly embarrassed that the bullshit you were spewing was picked up on by the guy who everyone was pretty sure was born in Inazuma. “Did you hear me?”

Hat Guy shrugged, plucking one candy from the pile on your hands. “You did pretty well. But I only have one criticism, and I can tell you bought most of them from the same place.”

Ah, you did do that. He tore off the plastic and popped it into his mouth, expression turning sour. “The best ones come from the locals. You should’ve asked the kids,” he advised.

Mouth dry, you said, “Yeah, I should’ve.”

Everyone told you that the mysterious new student—Hat Guy, you now learned—was prickly and slips off when someone approaches him. His birthday was apparently a very thrilling event—in the case that everyone had to hunt him down to give him his cake.

“Want a tip?” he asked, head tilted and looking entirely pretty. His tongue rolled around as he ate his—your candy.

“You seem to know best.”

“Take me with you next time.”

[3-aem]

Some days i wake up and go we can be healthy and normal or we can let depression rage and anxiety consume us and i pick the latter bc change and being healthy is hard and sometimes I can't do it and I don't want to do it.

[podimass]

When you get any affection other than being acknowledged as Clown, and your immediate reaction is a Raging Imposter Syndrome. You proceed to fuck things up after that, accidentally or not, you don't know, because your mother says that you sabotage things on purpose. And make said affection-givers mad at you, and you feel guilty for hurting them but also relieved in equal measures because now they know who you actually are.

haha imagine being someone so incapable of holding normal human interactions lol couldn't be me haha

[thebibliosphere]

Hey so, if you go out of your way to message me on other social media platforms complaining that my tumblr inbox is still off and how I’m neglecting my readers, you are 100% the reason I’ll not be turning it back on any time soon.

I am on a mental hiatus. I am resting my hands. By keeping my inbox off I reduce my workload each week from between 300-400,000 words per week, to roughly 100,000. Yes, I have decreased my workload to one hundred thousand words per week.

And if you can’t understand why I might need to do that to retain some semblance of sanity, then I am afraid I cannot help you. And I am not the emotional dumping ground for you. If I am so mentally burned out that I haven’t taken my phone off “do not disturb” for three months and spoken to any of my friends because I am in the absolute depths of a depressive episode, I sure as shit am not going to set myself on fire to keep you warm.

And if you’re one of the many, many people trying to reach me elsewhere just to say hi and I’m not responding. I’m sorry. I am having an awful time being a human right now. My body hurts. My head hurts. Everything hurts. And it’s taking a toll on me emotionally to the point where sustaining a conversation past the point of hello is often too much. I do love you, I do care. I hope you’re doing okay. I just can’t seem to keep my head above water right now. But I’m trying.

[turnthepage11]

life update:

Hi friends! Sorry if this stuff annoys you but I’ve found tumblr to be a nice outlet to throw my emotions into the void (and sometimes get something back). If it really bothers/triggers you, I’ve tagged all my medical stuff #in which Paige is a medical hot mess

That being said, let’s do an update after almost a week of the incident.

I called my ortho that did my surgery Monday morning. Called every day after. Never heard back from them until 12pm today. The next step? He’s calling me on Monday, sometime between 3 and 5 to see what we should do next. I have no plans for imaging (though I did get some more done which I’ll get to) at the moment, just a “hmmmm maybe you need to come down to see me.”

Had my yearly CT to make sure this cluster of blood vessels in my head didn’t grow. Had an hour and a half to kill so I parked right next to the little park in town (this is also where I went to college) and went and graded at a picnic table for an hour. I probably still walked less than I do in a normal school day, all while on crutches that I’m sometimes ditch while I’m at school because they’re too hard to navigate with.

Then I had a previously scheduled appointment with my primary. Confirmed that I have ADHD. Talked about how I struggle taking medication and how no one has listened to me in three years of telling people which has led to me being unmedicated for two years, and coming up with a plan on how to get me back on track. (A lot of me messing around with my pills and managing to get them in my body in ways that a pharmacist wouldn’t necessarily recommend).

Then she looked at my hip. I walked in on crutches (still) and went over everything. As I walked in, I noticed my leg was getting super weak. (Even now as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t put more than maybe 10% of my weight on it or it collapses beneath me.) Told her how I’m always at a 5 or higher on the pain scale, how I’m working but I really don’t think it’s making it worse because I’m barely moving at work. (Though I am bitchy and whiny but you know what, when the strongest pain medicine I can take is Tylenol and it doesn’t do shit, excuse me for my lack of patience with my petulant teenagers while I’m in this much pain).

She is appalled that they haven’t talked to me yet. Can’t believe they never asked for imaging and made me go get an X-ray just to confirm nothing is out of place. (So all that’s left is an MRI). I told her I’m starting to panic because I’ve never been in this much pain before, and not this constantly. And how I try not to take my Percocet every night but god I need it in order to relax my body enough to let it heal from the course of the day.

She prescribed me another couple days of Percocet to help me get through the weekend. Reminded me that if my leg ever goes numb to head straight for the main hospital in the county (though the one three hours away where all the bad cases go would be better she said if I thought I could manage it). And I’m to call her office ASAP on Tuesday morning to let her know what the doctor said because if he gives me no plan, (or makes me wait a week because I told her that on Monday it will be ten days since I’ve hurt myself and if I’m still in this much pain on Monday I will lose my mind if I have to wait another week) then she is sending me to the three hours away hospital in which she has major connections so I can get in ASAP.

I’m freaking out a bit. I’m in pain constantly. I’m teaching full time still because being out is worse than being at school. I’m just tired. I’m really hoping my leg either magically gets better or fixes itself soon. Because I honestly don’t know how to deal with this.

I’m so happy I’ve turned back to fandom after about six years. I write when my mind is kind of clear and most of the time it helps distract from the pain (though the pain definitely fogs my brain more than I care to admit as proven during some rereads). It’s been nice to have people to talk to, even if it’s just about two cops who have loved each other for over twenty years.

For those of you who read Two Days and left a comment and wished me well after reading either the small note there or previous posts on my tumblr, I honestly can’t tell you how grateful I am for you. I know sometimes it’s easy to forget there are humans on the other side of the screen and this human is here to tell you that your comments, even if it’s just a “get better!”, have made such an impact on me. Because honestly, all I’ve heard this week through either grumbles or actual comments made to me is that I’m whining, I’m over exaggerating, “what do you need from me?”’s that aren’t genuine, and so much other that a small “thinking of you!” or “get better!” makes me want to cry.

One day I’ll stop making tumblr my personal dumping ground. That day probably won’t be anytime soon though. If you read through this, thanks for being an awesome human and listening to my personal sob fest.

[self-indulgent-imagination]

Goodbye

Characters: Mad-Eye Moody, Sirius Black, You (Y/N) 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Marauder’s Era, Soft!Sirius, Emotional!Sirius, Mature!Sirius, Angst, Romantic, Interpret the end any way you want to

Summary: You have broken up with Sirius and are behaving rather cruelly with him. But why are you doing it? And what happens when he finds out the real reason behind it? 

A/N: Hello, there! This is my first fic on Tumblr, and first that I’ve written in the second person, so do tell me what you think of it. (And as you can see, I don’t really know how to write an author’s note.) Oh yeah, it’s unedited. So, sorry about whatever mistakes you might encounter  :( 

Word count: 1642

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You exit the girls’ dormitory silently, after making sure that no one is awake. Throwing a Disillusionment Charm over yourself, you leave the common room. You sneak through the corridors and hallways and finally reach your destination. The seventh floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by the trolls. You walk past the wall thrice, and a door appears. The Room of Requirement.

You enter to find Moody there already. “Y/N,” he grunts. You nod. He throws a jinx at you out of the blue. You side step. The next curse you deflect with a flick of your wand. And so it goes for next three quarters of an hour. He grunts to signal the end. You stop, pretend to relax, let him relax (well, as much as Moody can relax) and then throw the Jelly-Legs Jinx at him. He tumbles down like his legs are made of, well, jelly. He inclines his head towards you. You beam because coming from him, that is like a sign of admiration. “Well done, lassie. Let this be your lesson and remember. Constant vigilance!” he says. You nod.

An awkward silence takes over the room. Both of you know what’s coming. You have been training for it for past few years, but it’s still difficult to speak aloud of. But he is Moody. He takes the bull by its horns, “You know what you have to do?” 

“Yeah. Go to Voldy-boy, suck up to him and join him. Then send back the intel to you however I can.” 

“Yes, good. It’s going to be incredibly dangerous. Your should be Occluding all the time. If you slip up, you will die and take us down with you. So, there’s no margin for error. Got it?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t know what to say. After all, what do you say in farewell to someone you’ve trained to go in the jaws of death? You don’t know what to say either. The enormity of what you’re about to take up and how dangerous it will be hits you all over again. You hug Moody. You’ve never hugged him. But this might well be the last time you get to hug someone you like and respect. Maybe the last time you get to hug, ever.

You clutch him. He holds you awkwardly and pats your hair. “Be safe, girlie,” he says in a suspiciously choked voice. You nod and turn away from your mentor. You will cry if you don’t and you don’t want to embarrass him by being witness to his tears.

As you are leaving the room, you become alert. Someone is watching you. There’s a faint sound of breathing in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. But no one is standing there. You can’t detect any Disillusionment Charm. You pretend not to have noticed anything and walk away. You’re being followed.

You affect carelessness and walk towards the fourth floor. There’s a secret passageway behind a large mirror where you plan to apprehend whoever it is that is following you. And then it hits you. You can only hear the faint sound of footsteps and breathing. And there is no such thing as a perfect disillusionment. Invisibility Cloak.

You relax a bit. Once you’re both inside the passageway, you speak with a semblance of casualness, “Following around someone who has dumped you sounds pretty desperate, even for you.”

Sound of a cloth rustling. And then he is standing there, right behind the mirror. Sirius Black. Your heart misses a beat. You force your face to remain indifferent, bordering on cruel. You cannot let him know that you still love him. It would be too dangerous because he is recklessly protective of people he loves. And you can’t bear to have him put his life in danger like that.

You take in his face. He looks desperate, as if someone has just destroyed his life. You have seen that look on his face only twice before this. You wonder what he is thinking about. For a moment you fear that he knows exactly why you ended things with him. Exactly what you’re going to do. But no, you reassure yourself, how could he possibly know?

He still hasn’t retorted to your taunt with something cutting that you will pretend didn’t mean anything to you but will shatter your heart. After all, that is how it has been since your “break-up”. But he’s silent. You have to play your part. You raise an eyebrow and look at him contemptuously (you hope), “Not even a retort. Exactly how pathetic have you gotten?”

“Stop it, Y/N. Don’t you get tired of paying the part?”

You feign confusion. You can’t let him know how much it hurts you when he calls you a liar, a cheat, a ‘wannabe Pureblood’. You steel yourself for an acidic remark that is not going to come. 

He walks towards you and stands before you. You do not back down. Something is wrong. You don’t know what’s going on. You’re about to say something when he falls to the ground. Sobs wracking through his body. You freeze. You don’t know what to do. Should you pretend to be cruel? But you know your limits. You know that you won’t be able to maintain a halfway decent façade of derision or apathy when the love of your life is breaking down like that. So you don’t say anything. Your body is tense with the effort not to reach out and hold him, comfort him.

It is when he takes your fisted hands, pries them open gently and kisses them that you look down. He is looking at you with such utter heartbreak in his eyes that you have to look away. You slowly drop the pretense of coldness. Your shoulders slump. “So you know,” you whisper, still not looking at him. 

“Yes.”

You nod and sink down in front of him. You let free the tears that you had been holding back for so long. You lean into him and he takes you in his arms. You do not know how long you stay like that.

“I’m scared.” You don’t realise you’re saying it until after you’ve said it. You know that it’s true. He holds you tighter.

“You’d be an idiot if you weren’t.” 

Silence.

“You’re an idiot,” he says. “You should’ve told me.”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to put you at risk...”

“And?” He knows you too well.

You sigh, “I was afraid that you would blow this. I still am.”

He laughs without humour. “Just because I play pranks doesn’t mean I don’t understand the gravity of a situation. The seriousness, if you will. You forget that it is in my very name.” You groan. 

“Serio - really?”

He grins through dried tears. “Sorry, darling, can’t help it. Besides, it made you smile, didn’t it?” And it’s true.

He sighs, “Anyway... I understand what we’re facing, Y/N. I know that you’re going to do what needs to be done. It’s probably difficult enough for you as it is, I’m not going to make it even more difficult by whining or trying to stop you.”

You look at him, surprised. He smiles sadly.

“I wish you had trusted me. But that’s the water under the bridge. I’m not going to ask you not to do this. I’ll keep out of your way and pretend that we’re done. I want you to know and remember that whatever cruel words I may use to mock you will not mean anything. It will all be a pretense. Don’t worry about me. Focus on keeping yourself alive and safe.” 

He pauses, contemplating. Then he continues in a softer voice, “There are some things bigger than just you and me. And this is one of them. We can’t put the future of the world on line just because my blood pressure shoots up on seeing you in danger.” 

You look at him with a newfound respect. You’re seeing a serious Sirius Black for the first time and you fall in love with him all over again. You kiss him gently, almost hesitantly. You lean against his chest and stay there.

“Thank you,” you murmur. He kisses your hair, an arm around you, his hand rubbing your arm.

“You’re a shit actress, you know.”

“What?!”

“Every time I insulted you, I could see the heartbreak and pain in your eyes and I would be left feeling so confused and guilty. You were acting like a first-rate bitch, but your eyes were telling a different story and I didn’t know what to believe. If you act like that in front of Voldemort, you won’t last a day.”

“Voldemort doesn’t know me as well as you do.”

“You have to assume that he does. Be prepared for the worst, not the best, Y/N, because I find that I rather like you alive.”

You smile and kiss his chest. Wordlessly, you throw a Warming Charm on both of you and a Cushioning Charm on the floor. Sirius looks at you quizzically. 

“Might as well get comfortable for the night,” you shrug.

“Show-off,” he mutters.

“Learned from the best,” you grin, nudging him. He grins, too, and kisses you.

You spend the night in his arms. Just you and him and silence. This night will be your driving force for many years to come, but you don’t know that yet. For you, it is the last night of peace and love before you step in the devil’s lair. 

It’s dawn when you get up to leave. Sirius stops you. He pulls you in his arms. “Don’t ever forget that I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“And I, you.” And then you part ways.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: If you’ve read it completely, kudos to you! And thanks for sticking around :) Please tell me if there’s something in particular that you liked or didn’t.

[pseudoneiiric]

@confettisuite​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ sent:  Ship Bias for Lilian! @deathwis​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ sent:  ship bias » for lilian !!  /  accepting!

send ‘ship bias’ and i will share up to 5 ships i have a bias for for my muse!

using this as an excuse to put ten ships down, sorry not sorry. i actually have a note on my phone of lilian ship fics i want to write. it’s kind of not okay! anyway let me list a bunch of them that i love, in no particular order:

starting off with a canon one... anrilian does make me emotional. i do think a lot about how lili probably didn’t like her back because of her discomfort around the idea of not being seen as a girl, and i love the idea that anri comphetted for lili and then felt relieved until lilian transitioned and then she was like. fuck.

lililight! it’s one of my big ships for lilian and it’s the only ship fic i’ve actually started. i think they are so sweet and i think they’re weird enough for each other. it’s also kind of a little bit terrible no good bad bad but... in a good way!

lilimisa! there’s something so inherently intimate about them sharing the role of second kira. i also do think that lilian’s, like... good for misa. she’s so similar to light but nowhere near as manipulative, and i do think misa would be able to hold her ground much better if she went in already having a girlfriend. that’s just my opinion

lilimatty. it has to be said. lilian’s etn au will singlehandedly kill me and i am such a huge supporter of these codependent little individuals! they hurt me, truly. it all started from them both having a huge fondness for stuffed animals. that was the first step to lilimatty supremacy

lilimaeda. this came up because i was saying that lilian has unfortunate taste in men and always ends up liking the tumblr sexymen. but also for lilian’s dr au this one actually works really well considering she’s also a lucky student! they kind of a dynamic like “my luck’s going to fuck up your life” / “not if my luck fucks my life up first”. plus they’re both fucked in the head (affectionate). i have it saved in here as “hope vs despair debates. folie à deux”

lilipete... the two of them have the most off-putting, nihilistic demeanours and i just think it’s absolutely stellar. the energies of them will send me to an early grave, actually. they just will.

saflili! i just really love the energies of this one in particular because it’s very much like. smart girl solidarity! i love the idea that they’d slowly grow to care about each other quite a bit through just... being able to trust each other on an intellectual level. and of course, that respect morphing over time to concern, romantic interest... it just kills me, i love saflili actually

natsulili! i think lilian is just the ideal partner for natsuki actually. natsuki’s always reminded me of anri and i just think she’d end up falling hard for lilian since lili is just such a joking teasing kind of person. it’s got... natsuyuri vibes for sure

mukuro/lili! i just think they’d end up getting along so well and being able to bond over. basically. like the trauma they suffered from their sisters and i just think they’d end up being really sweet!

ok i can’t really decide between these so i’m just gonna dump them here: peko/lili, hinata/lili, naegi/lili, asahina/lili

[quijotine]

come get ya miraculous juice

If your thirst for lukanette and slow burn adrinette cannot possibly wait for season 4, Chapter 10 of The Wall Between Us is up on AO3! 

Or read in Tumblr below the cut

Chapter 10

“Aw, come on Luka, don’t be like this,” Albin said, swinging an arm around his neck.

“I’m not being like anything,” Luka protested as he and his group of friends made their way out of the metro station and towards Place de la Concorde. “I’m just saying I don’t feel like coming to a demonstration.”

“So, what would you rather be doing today instead, hm? Stay locked up in your room like an emo kid? Besides, the weather is great today and you know Margot will hang us by our heads if we don’t show up.”

Luka sighed and remitted to walk along, which pleased Albin.

Luka’s friends had been very adamant on helping him out of the house as often as possible since his breakup with Marinette. They knew that, left to his own devices, Luka would close up and keep to himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy that readily shared when something bothered him, he was more the type that had to be squeezed like an orange for him to share his mind when he was feeling low. However, this was not the reason why Luka had put up more of a fight than it was usually his style. It had been almost a week since the breakup and he had managed to keep out of trouble with Hawkmoth, but he attributed his success to a lot of calm evenings and just processing everything his own way.

As much as he supported the cause and his friend Margot, he could see how participating in a demonstration could get him riled up, especially if some asshole showed up. And he’d attended enough demonstrations during his lifetime to know that there was always some asshole showing up.

The trio of boys made their way to the organizers’ tent, where Margo kept busy readying cardboard signs. Without as much as a quick glance upwards and a smile, she said, “Oh good, you’re here. Help me with these, please. Paint is on the table over there.” She handed a couple of cardboard pieces to each of the boys and left them to their own devices.

Luka wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with these. His creativity didn’t exactly lie in the visual department. That was always more a thing for...

He shook his head and proceeded to grab some random paint and brushes for Albin, Noe, and himself. As he turned around, he accidentally knocked a container of black paint on the person behind him waiting their turn.

“What the heck! Watch it!” the girl exclaimed.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Let me help you clean-- Kagami?”

It took him a couple seconds to recognize who she was. It had been almost a year since he had last seen her. There was an air to her that made it evident she had changed a lot during that time, but it was also obvious in her appearance. She had cut her hair shorter than before and she had now several piercings on her ears. She seemed to have also shed her preppy outfits in favor of high-waisted mom jeans and a black crop top. Besides her appearance, Luka could  just tell this was the type of girl who wouldn’t take crap from anyone, even more than before. It was a bit… daunting. He did always wonder how someone as intimidatingly sure of herself ended up with someone like Adrien.

“Luka,” she said deadpan.

“You... look very different.”

She gave him a dirty look. “Really? You come to a feminist demonstration and the first thing you do is comment on my appearance?”

Luka blushed with embarrassment. “No, no, no! Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! You just-- in general. You look different in general.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Thanks for ruining my pants, by the way. They weren't my favorite or anything,” she said sarcastically, then stopped, looked around the room and asked, “Where’s Marinette, anyway? Maybe she knows some way to take the stain off.”

Luka clutched his painting utensils and gulped. He had tried to steer away from the subject as much as possible to reduce his risk of getting akumatized, but he supposed there wasn’t much of a way to evade it right now.

“We, uh... we broke up a few days ago.”

“Oh.” Kagami perked up, suddenly aware how her question might have been a little insensitive. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.”

“Not that it’s my business, but how are you doing? After your akumatization and so on?”

“I didn’t get akumatized,” he said, suddenly defensive, as an urge to get back to his friends built up.

“Really?” Kagami said, a bit surprised.

“Yes, really.”

“I always had the impression you were super into her,” she commented, but mostly to herself.

“I am--I was,” he said, getting angry.

“I got akumatized into this nightmarish monster when Adrien and I broke up and it turned out it didn’t take me so much to get over him.”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with it,” he retorted, evidently irked.

“No, no. Of course not,” she hurried to say, realizing she had unintentionally pushed his buttons. “I just meant to say props to you. Lesser people get akumatized for the weather or something like that. Sorry for the stupid comparison.

“Sure. Whatever…”

“... Anyway,” Kagami said, sighing. “I guess we’ve made this sufficiently awkward, right? So, I’ll get going.”

Luka marched back to his friends and unceremoniously dumped the materials at the center of their little circle as tried to calm himself down.

He tried to focus on getting something into his sign but the fact he was stuck doing something Marinette usually loved to do was not helping in the slightest.

He breathed heavily, his eyes prickling him as hot, angry tears pooled and then fell onto the cardboard.

“I need some fresh air,” he announced to his friends, who had noticed his mood but had not said anything yet and watched as he stormed outside.

He paced around, taking deep breaths. The anxiety of not being able to calm down mixed with the fear of getting akumatized, was like kindling soaked in gasoline being thrown into a starting fire. And, as wildfires do, it burst out of control.

Luka gasped for air and then, with horror saw as the black butterfly approached him. He sprinted back to the tent where his friends were but by the time he got there, the butterfly had already lodged in the paintbrush he was holding.

The voice of his friends urging him not to give into the spell was faint and distant in his ears, but enough to keep him steady.

The first thing he noticed is that this akumatization felt different. He's was still aware of everything. He hadn’t been completely akumatized yet. Hawkmoth held him in his petrifying grasp but stalled, as if deciding what to turn him into.

Suddenly, his grave voice echoed inside his head.

“What is it that you want, Luka Couffaine?”

“Get out of my head,” Luka hissed, focusing as hard as he could on not thinking of anything that would reveal the secrets he knew.

Hawkmoth laughed. “But you called me here. Your emotions... I can tell you’re a soul in pain. You lost something. I can relate to that pain.” Luka felt how Hawkmoth snaked through his thoughts, looking for something to convince him. A flash of a thought, and Hawkmoth knew he was hiding something.

“GET OUT!” he screamed in his head.

He laughed again. “Oh? And what secrets might you be keeping? Hm?”

Luka winced, straining to keep thinking of random things: music, the weather, that weird bench at school that wobbles when he sits and how he hates it. Anything.

“I can help you recover what you lost...” he whispered softly. “Your girlfriend… Don’t you want her back? What is her name? I can help you. I promise I won’t hurt her.”

He felt himself slipping, turning.

“No!” he said, reverting back into his human form. “Let me go!”

“Maybe what you want is revenge on him? The reason she abandoned you? You’re not worthy like him, are you? That’s why she left you… But I can make you worthy… Wouldn't you want to be in his place, hm? Wouldn’t everything be better with that pesky boy of the way?”

Again, Luka felt himself morph and forced himself to think of other things. He tried reciting stupid facts he knew about ship maintenance.

“Get out of my head!” he exclaimed, sounding much weaker.

“Your power of will is very commendable,” Hawkmoth said. “But if I’m overstaying my welcome all you need to do is tell me what you want.”

“N-no!” Luka said, straining and screaming. “GET OUT!”

“If you--”

Suddenly the contact broke, and he collapsed onto the ground. The world went dark.

When Luka regained consciousness, he did so with a jolt. He was surrounded by his friends, Ladybug and Chat Noir, and surprisingly enough, Kagami.

He had an ungodly headache and realized blood had dried on his upper lip. His nose must have bled.

“Give him some space,” Ladybug ordered the crowd, seeing as Luka was struggling to gather his bearings. He didn’t know what particular panic to tackle first.

“What happened?” he asked, noticing they were not under the tent anymore and the gathering crowd that was preparing for the demonstration had dissipated.

“You got akumatized,” Ladybug explained, a bit surprised she had to fill him in on that particular point.

“Or rather, were about to akumatized,” Chat Noir said, trying to help his confused expression.

“You kept changing into different things. Like, you were getting akumatized on and off again,” Albin explained. “It was pretty scary.”

He turned to Ladybug with horror realizing what that meant. “You need to take me out of here,” he urged.

“Please!”

“Just take it easy for a second, okay?” Ladybug said, trying her best not to share Luka’s worry. “We’ll take you home in a minute.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir had not been present for most of the incident, so they stayed to talk to the people that had seen the attack, mainly Luka’s friends and Kagami.

Chat Noir was the one to interview them while Ladybug found some water for Luka to drink. Once everyone had calmed down and gave Chat Noir their testimony, they took Luka away to a secluded place to talk. It was the abandoned industrial section where Chat usually led Akumas.

“He knows,” he said, with absolute terror in his voice, Luka said pacing around, trying his best to contain his tears. “He knows that I know something! He saw that I was hiding something. I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I tried but he--he was in my mind and saw--.” His voice broke down.

For a reason unknown to Chat, Ladybug suddenly assumed the same urgency as Luka.

“Did he see?” she asked as Luka cried. “Luka, did he see?”

“See what?” Chat Noir asked, with escalating worry. “What is going on?”

“He didn’t. That’s why I kept changing, he tried to convince me several times,” said Luka. “But he knows that I’m keeping a secret.”

Ladybug covered her mouth with her hands.

“Would somebody please just care to explain what is going on?” Chat demanded.

“You didn’t tell him?” Luka said with disbelief.

“Luka, I need you to tell me exactly everything you remember. What happened?” Ladybug said, ignoring the question.

“Nothing. He just… he figured that I… lost someone. And he was trying to get me to tell him who it was, and to convince me to try to get them back, or to get revenge. I managed to focus my thoughts, but what if he tries again,” Luka said fearfully. “You were right,” he sobbed. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve just looked away that day! I wish I never knew about this.”

Despite Chat’s presence, Ladybug could only comfort Luka with a hug, not knowing what else to do. Chat, on the other hand, seemed to have put two and two together. Luka knew Marinette’s identity.

“Oh my god…” Chat muttered with disbelief as he leaned against the metal sliding door of one of the warehouse buildings and fell to the floor. He grabbed chunks of his hair just to process what all of this meant, what to feel first. His father was only an akumatization away from figuring out Marinette.

“Luka, I promise you I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? We will come up with a plan, Chat Noir and me. But for now, I need to you to lay as low as possible. We cannot be seen together anymore. At all. If Hawkmoth is the person Chat and I suspect he is, he could be very close to finding out who I am if he makes the connection that we were together. Erase everything. Everything we ever posted on our social media, messages, calls, anything that might be public evidence. Try to have Juleka do the same.”

Luka contemplated the prospect for a moment. Ladybug knew she was thinking exactly the same thing as him: how devastating it will be to have to pretend that nothing ever happened. To actively destroy their memories together.

“Okay,” he said after a while. “And what if I get akumatized again? I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him off for any longer than I did today.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Ladybug said. “That’s for us to figure out. Your only task is to pretend like you don’t know us, for your own sake.”

They sent Luka back home on a cab that Marinette called through her burner phone, leaving a heavy sense of danger looming between Chat and Ladybug. He was still on his spot on the ground, with his head on his hands as he supported his arms on his knees.

Ladybug sighed and slid down to sit next to him.

“You told him?”

“I’ve only ever told Alya. He found out by accident,” she said, already defensive and prepared for the argument that was bubbling up between them. “He also knows who you are.”

Chat’s stomach dropped. “Come again?”

“He was hiding in the same alley you transformed in one day.”

Chat let out a heavy sigh and swore loudly.

“You knew about this and you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked Ladybug.

Ladybug was in complete silence. She didn’t know what to say. “I—“

“You what?” Chat demanded.

“I— I meant to tell you next time we met,” she said. “I didn’t think—“

“You didn’t think to tell me that the boyfriend you just broke up with and was very much at risk of being akumatized knows who we are?” he exclaimed with frustration.

“I just—“ Ladybug tried to come up with an explanation, but the words kept getting stuck on her throat. Chat was right to be mad. She should have told him as soon as she found out. But everything had been so much, with him disappearing and Luka suddenly breaking up with her that, in a moment of weakness, him knowing her identity had been the least of her worries.

“What were you thinking?” Chat demanded. “Ladybug, I told you I’m close to the Agreste family!”

“I’m sorry!” she yelled. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think—I was… I was so distracted by everything going on that I never thought… I meant to tell you! But then all this stupid teenage drama got in the way! He broke up with me literally the day after you and I talked. That’s when he told me. I meant to tell you Chat Noir, I swear. I just...” she sighed. “I’m so stupid!”

She knocked the back of her head on the metal wall that they were leaning against. “This was the kind of mistake I wanted to evade by telling someone! And it still happened… No matter what I do, nothing ever seems to be enough.”

She was angry at herself, at the situation, at the fact that no matter how hard she tried, she was still not a good enough Guardian.

“We still have time to fix this,” he said, a lot calmer and even with hints of reassurance in his voice. “We need to use our upper hand before Hawkmoth gets a chance to get his,” said Chat. “I can get a hold of his personal calendar. We can attack when he least expects it.”

“How are you going to do that, Chat? Let me go with you,” Ladybug said, worried.

Chat shook his head. “I’ll do it as a civilian.”

“The more reason!”

“No, Ladybug. If anything goes wrong and he sees you there, he’ll be able to figure everything out. Trust me. I promise I will be careful.”

“But--”

“Marinette, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you,” Chat Noir said, his voice cracking and evidencing the whirlwind of emotions he had been trying to hide from her. “Please, just let me do this. Please, my lady.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But promise me you’ll be careful. And you’ll tell me when you do it. Please, promise me you’ll tell me.”

“I will.”

The clicking of Natalie’s heels as she entered the office disturbed the soft classical music playing in the background.

“Here’s the schedule for tomorrow, sir,” she said, placing a thin stack of papers on Gabriel’s desk. “Your flight to Helsinki is expected to arrive at nine a.m. and your first meeting is at ten, as you requested.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Natalie,” Gabriel said, without taking his sight off his screen.

Natalie nodded, heading to her desk.

“One more thing while I am absent, Natalie.”

“Yes, sir?”

Gabriel zoomed into the picture of the article he had been reading. The photographer had managed to capture the teenager he had akumatized looking urgently at Ladybug, who seemed to reciprocate his concern.

“Make sure to find out everything you can about this... Luka Couffaine.”

[lightsintheskye]

Ahhh I have a lot of messages in my inbox right now (over like ...2000; ) but this one just jumped out at me from yesterday and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m sorry if this is a long long response (l’ll screenshot it as a textpost so it doesn’t clog someones feed) but I just, with how hypercritical social media makes us about ourselves and others its important to acknowledge bullying and how exposed we are to it. If anyone reading this is also struggling with this topic right now please read below. Remember I’m not a licensed therapist but I’ve had a lot of experience with bullying so read below if you like-

For the most part, the big two are finding a positive support network and focusing on things that make me happy. I’m not unscathed, I have clinically diagnosed MDD, Anxiety, and PSTD, but I’ve learned to manage these things. If you need to take a break from social media, do it- do your best to be your own curator of positivity. If social media is one of your few solaces, create a special account for yourself that just follows what you love. Remember that YOU are the one in control of your social media feed and are responsible for what you see.

1. Support Network:

Find a group that you can trust, and do you best to talk about your feelings and experiences in a constructive way(see no 5). That being said respect your support network, always ask if it’s ok to vent to them and don’t treat others as emotional dumping grounds. I know trusting people is incredibly hard, I still struggle with it (my own support network is literally two people but I also practice a lot of behavioral therapy since a lot of medications unfortunately don’t work for me) but you can not go through life second guessing every action (fuck you, anxiety). If your situation is such that you don’t think you have friends you can talk to, your college might have a therapist you can talk to for free. There are also online sites and hotlines that offer the same free services. Sometimes it takes a few therapists to find one that works for you, but sometimes its easier to talk to a friend rather a stranger- and therapy might not always be available to everyone. Google is your friend for finding constructive options.I know it’s hypocritical since this is a tumblr post, but do research on your own from reputable sites and sources for healthy coping.

2. Don’t bottle it up: I used to be incredibly quiet about any sort of stress or bullying I received in the past. I used to lie about never being bullied or harassed after middle school, but the only person that ended up hurting is myself. I don’t think I’ll ever be perfectly fine, but talking about it helps more than you think. I’m not saying to blast it out to everyone exactly how you’re feeling 24/7 but take time to trade woes with a close friend every week or so. Just don’t forget to celebrate the good when and where you can- this world has so much that makes it suck, but there’s also a lot that we can enjoy- too.

3. Bullies seriously suck, but don’t become one:

In my experience, very few bullies ‘grow up’ if they’re still bullying people in college, they just kinda get better at hiding it. This usually manifests behind passive aggressive comments, and or just talking behind someones back and hiding behind a screen to say things. Even in grad school I’ve witnessed "adults” being shitty to each other twitter, on insta, on discord, on tumblr, on A03- you name it. Bullies can come from anywhere, and be anyone, and bully for any reason. People who were bullied sometimes become bullies themselves in a way to gain back sense of power- but their own abuse doesn’t make abusing others right. In the past I’ve had comments and emails telling me everything from childish bullying to literally telling me to kill myself. Negative comments about my appearance, the way I talk, the way I draw, my hobbies,my choice of schooling (which ??????),  harassment about my choice of friends and the people I associate myself with. People who seek negativity will find any reason to slight another. But know that harassment is harassment regardless of why, so even if you’re angry bullying someone back really wont change much. I can think of nothing more toxic than willingly engaging with your bullies in order to find ways to ‘get back’ at them. The beauty of being online is that you can just leave a site, hit a block button, and even make a new name for yourself. Do your best to limit interaction with them. Do not put yourself in situations that involve them. Do not cyber stalk them (yes, repeatedly checking their tumblr/fb/instagram to criticize and mock their every post, or find every person they talk to “whistle-blow” on them is a form of defamation of character and cyber-stalking). Doing this will only invite negative emotions and make you start to hyper fixate. It’s an easy two way street that will invite people to do the same to you- and unless you’re the next coming of Christ someone will inevitably find out something negative about you. Do not hold people to standards that you yourself cannot achieve. You may be more morally inclined than your bully but no one one is perfect. You will never be able to please everyone. It is not your job to do so. 

4. Report, Put Away, Ignore: If these people are saying things to you that can be documented and reported to your school (assuming these are classmates that you can prove have done things) then take a screenshot if possible and report it. It’s a gamble to have anything done about it, some schools are shit about bullying, but some schools aren’t. Recently in my case, in grad school there was a bullying incident and we were incredibly afraid of what the bullies would do if they found out who exactly reported them, but thankfully I had friends help us report it- so multiple reports from anonymous sources made it hard for them to pin point it was someone finally standing up. Some colleges will take defamation of character (which, as an adult, is really what a lot of bullying is) very seriously and amazingly- that bully completely changed. I would not call them a friend, but for now their apology seems sincere and they’ve worked towards being a better person. So, if you choose to report it, after reporting, put that shit away and don’t keep looking at it, find a way to make it really hard to look at over and over. Put it in a folder within a folder within seven folders if you have to BECAUSE- 5. You HAVE to work towards moving ON or it will consume you.

Way, way easier said than done. I’m not saying so much ‘be the better person’ as to just ...seriously remove yourself from that shit as fast as you can. You owe nothing to the people that hurt you, but giving them more of your time over and over if you have the option not to is only going to end in you getting angrier or more upset yourself. The first time something hurts you, put a warning label on it, if it continues to hurt you, do not engage.

The internet can be so toxic- a lot of bullying is masked as “call-out culture” from minor things that happened years ago, it validates the worst forms of “coping” possible. It creates such a bad system of alarm fatigue for when real issues are happening, and creates a hive mind of abuse and hyper criticism where everyone is looking for the next target. There’s an extreme difference if a “bully” disagrees with your favorite ship or show and harasses you about it, or if someone is literally harassing you as an individual by telling you to self harm or worse. Treat your emotional scars like an actual wound; if you keep picking at it and ripping off the band aid to see if its still there its never going to heal. The scars might still be there and will still be visible on some days, but you’ll no longer be bleeding at the slightest brush. Learn to grow, learn to let others grow. Learn to trust again, and learn to try and be happy with who you are and who your friends are as you know them.  A big reason why I stepped away form the internet is that I found myself looking to validation in terms of popularity. And when i finally had it- I realized how toxic it ended up being for my health. I’d spend hours just to make a comic even at the cost of sleep or food, and 100 positive comments couldn’t stop my brain from fixating on ten that were negative or downright harassment. Even as I step back on the internet, I’m doing it from a much better place internally. It’s so so important not to get lost in numbers and online “validation.” Please just know eventually things will get better, and those that matter will stick around to be there to see your growth. People will always find something to give you shit about, but only you can determine how much it affects you. Recognize your emotions, process them, and take responsibility for them. Let your self-worth be determined by your own actions and words, not the actions or words of others.

[apileofglitter]

77. Both. Depends on the situation and your perspective.

78. Maybe. Unlikely, but it'd be nice.

79. Conveys my emotions. I love me some angst

80. Both. I have a bazillion playlists. However, I mostly just mix everything up, especially if I don't know what I feel like listening to.

81. Depends on the circumstance. But most likely yes.

82. Absolutely. If it's not deep I'll make it deep. Hand me my shovel.

83. No. Assuming it was even a good idea in the first place, no. I can't imagine life without being able to exist in nature.

84. Yes and no. I'm always my authentic self, but different people see different sides of me. I wish I could show people the whole me, but I'm afraid if their reactions. Tumblr kinda turned into my dumping ground for aspects of me I have to be careful about lol.

85. No.

86. I have a lot of mental health issues I'm trying to work through. One of my most toxic traits is being negative to myself. I think I've improved, but I am trying to get better.

87. No. A family member does and it hurt me more than she'll ever realize. So I promised myself I wouldn't anger easily, and when I did I would handle those feelings in the most mature manner possible. I don't want to hurt anyone else.

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it took me a while to answer.

[crystalirises]

Foxgloves

Whoops my hand slipped.

I am here today with another angst fic. So, this is a sort-of Ghostbur POV of my ‘Clouds’ and ‘Clouds V.2.’ fic. I do recommend reading those two before this one for actual context.

Anyway, hope you guys like this and just like the other fics, same trigger warnings apply.

As for Ao3 link, I won’t add it cause Tumblr deletes my posts if I add external links. (I don’t get it either)

TW: Poisoning and Major Character Death

Ghostbur paced along his desolate abode, traces of teardrops scarring the smooth stone floor. His mind was a haze of fog, his son’s word echoing neverendingly in his ears. Oh… his sweet boy… his little champion…

A book was clutched in his hands, the paper wrinkling beneath his harsh touch. His dead heart ached within his chest, a waterfall of blood pouring from the fatal wound that took him away from this wretched world. He shivered, colder than he usually was. The sewers were silent… lonely… it was driving him mad.

With a bitter cry, he threw the book into the roaring fireplace, collapsing upon the floor in a terrible anguish. His soot-covered fingers clawed at his hair, tugging at the strands until he felt some semblance of pain… but ghosts didn’t feel pain. His sobs tore through the room, unheard by any man or woman for night had settled upon New L’Manburg. If anyone were to awaken, they might just hear his haunting wails. His arms wrapped around himself, a pitiful try at self-comfort as the day’s memory repeated in his head.

He trailed after Tubbo, the young president inspecting the land they had begun to build upon. Ghostbur happily followed after him, adding his occasional suggestion each time Tubbo asked for his own input.

“Well, I think that’s all on the agenda for today.” Tubbo paused, reaching to scour through his inventory for a material Ghostbur could care less to remember. He watched as Tubbo froze in place, a startled look on his face as he brought out an enchanted netherite shovel. “Oh. Oh no. Fundy was looking for his stuff last night… I didn’t know I had them on me. Please excuse me, Ghostbur, I have to return these to him.”

His attention rose at the mention of Fundy. Fundy had been avoiding his presence ever since he came back… he didn’t understand why and he didn’t want to. The seed of an idea was planted in his mind, this was an opportunity to speak to Fundy! “Y-you know, I wouldn’t mind returning them for you.”

“Really? Thanks, Ghostbur!” Tubbo had dumped a variety of objects in Ghostbur’s arms, the strangely named tools making him chuckle as he tucked them into his inventory. He gave Tubbo a small farewall before heading off to find Fundy. This was perfect! This was his chance to be a good dad! To do good dad things! Then… Then maybe Fundy would look him in the eyes… wouldn’t run off in the opposite direction the moment he came into view… This would fix whatever grievance he had done when he was alive… right?

As he scoured through New L’Manburg for Fundy, he had stumbled upon Eret’s museum. Eret. Ghostbur shivered, a haunting memory of screams and explosions resonating in his head. He shook the thought away… and just like that, he’d forgotten what it was that had scared him so. He perused through the unfinished structure, remnants of a past he barely recognized displayed in all their beautiful glory.

Bad images came to mind and he quickly exited the area. He didn’t want to remember. He took another stroll through New L’Manburg, his eyes scanning for a tell-tale sign of Fundy’s whereabouts. As he stepped onto the wooden pathway, the trace of a fox’s tail caught his attention. He turned to see Fundy at the center of town, scrambling between the empty space as if in search for something… And Ghostbur had what Fundy was looking for! His heart soared. Oh, Fundy would be so happy to see him! “Fundy! Hi! Hi!”

A pair of gold-flecked brown eyes snapped towards him, irritation flashing in their gaze as Ghostbur floated towards Fundy. Ghostbur couldn’t help but worry, dark circles had wormed their way beneath Fundy’s eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping for a long time. Well… Ghostbur was sure if Fundy needed it, he could concoct a sleeping potion of sorts. But anyway… “Fundy! I have your stuff! Here, these are yours, right?”

“Y-yeah, actually. Thanks, Wil.” Fundy winced, taking his stuff from Ghostbur. His face reddened as an excited wheeze tore through his throat as Ghostbur handed him his schlong. “Oh… my bow is missing.”

Ghostbur looked at the bow in his inventory. “Uh, sorry. I don’t have it.”

He didn’t understand why he’d lied, but Fundy could make a new bow, couldn’t he? Ghostbur hardly had anything of Fundy’s that he could hold onto… surely an old bow wouldn’t be missed, right? Yeah.

“Thanks, Wil. I really… I really appreciate this.” Ghostbur held his breath as Fundy gave him a small smile, hesitant as it may be. Fundy smiled at him! He did something good, didn’t he? Fundy turned to leave but… but Ghostbur didn’t want him to leave. They just started talking again! He trailed after Fundy, the hint of a question dancing on his tongue. Fundy’s sharp glare turned to him. All previous gratitude gone. “What?”

“I did a… I did a good dad thing, didn’t I, Fundy?” He held his hands together, the heated scrutiny of Fundy’s gaze piercing through his ghostly form. Fundy’s shoulders shook in fury or in another emotion, Ghostbur couldn’t quite tell. Then Fundy looked away, a look of pity in his eyes as he spoke the next few words.

“I’m getting adopted, Wilbur.” The world turned deathly still, a tenseness in the air as Ghostbur’s felt the ground beneath his feet collapse. Fundy scurried a little bit away from him, clutching the sleeves of his jacket Ghostbur had made him that jacket as he looked everywhere but at him. “Eret came up to me yesterday with an offer. He’s offered to adopt me since you’re… We’re just waiting for Phil to sign.”

“Eret… We don’t like Eret… I-it’s in the song, Fundy.”

Fundy tries to explain, but Ghostbur couldn’t hear his words, static crackled in his ears as he turned and ran off. He couldn’t look at Fundy. He couldn’t bear it… He… He… He knows he had a talk with Phil after that, holding back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Then he wandered away from New L’Manburg, stumbling upon a familiar yet nightmarish lived-in ravine. He looks at the myriad of buttons on the walls, a conclusion forming in his mind. Fundy needed a dad… and Ghostbur wanted his son.

He floats up from the ground, he’d made up his mind.

He couldn’t let Eret take his son. He couldn’t let some traitor steal his son from him. He heads over to the materials he had gathered as soon as he had left that ravine. He had everything he needed. Niki had even helped him gather some of the berries, that was kind of her to do! He just had to put them all together.

His son would understand. He’d understand.

Ghostbur just wanted to protect his son.

‘This is for my son.’ He thinks, the foxglove held tightly in his hand. ‘He needs me. I’ll protect him.’

.

.

.

Ghostbur watched in the distance.

His son was pacing in front of Eret’s castle, his ears and tail frantic with nervous energy. The ghost hoped he wasn’t the cause for his son’s distress. He’d hate for his son to be suffering because of him.

The picnic basket weighed heavy in his hands, guilt gnawing at his undead insides as he recalled the sweet smile his son had when he heard the happy and joyful news. He could still turn around, run home and cook something of actual worth. Tears pricked at his eyes. How could he go through with this? Could he go through with this?

“With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret…” The soft tune seemingly echoed within the breeze, though he knew himself to be alone. No. Ghostbur had to do this. Eret… Eret was a bad person. It’s in the song for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t let his son be adopted by some-some person who had done something against their nation. Eret was a traitor. They didn’t deserve to be anywhere near his son. He remembers trailing after Phil earlier on in the day, invisible to all gazes as he slipped within the castle right after his father.

He floated along the halls, surveying every detail that could cause harm upon his son. Why did this castle have towers? His son could fall from one dammit. He took note of the staircases, the crystalline chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, and the thick red carpet that suffocated the floor beneath their feet.

His son could trip on these carpets.

The staircases are too high, what if his son tripped on the way down?

What if a chandelier fell and crushed his son?

Why are there so many candelabras? His son could burn himself!

Wha― Were those actual flamingos?

Those paintings looked as if they were staring at him… what if they dragged his son into the paintings?!

Why does that bed have a roof? What if it falls on his son? What then, huh?!

The windows were easily opened… and with such a high drop…!

That servant looked at his son a little bit too suspiciously…

The castle was stifling hot, how could his son even breath in here?

Eret wasn’t even a real king.

Ghostbur was sure Phil would tell Eret ‘no’, that the castle was too dangerous. He stayed out of the room as the two of them signed the papers, choosing to watch over his son in the meantime.

He wished he could pull his son into his arms and run. Run far away from there, perhaps even far away from New L’Manburg. It’d be just the two of them, almost as if nothing had ever happened. They’d be family again… though without Sally… No. No. Sally would forever live within their hearts.

When he saw Phil and Eret leave the room, warm smiles upon their faces, his poor undead heart shattered into pieces. Phil patted Eret on the back, a congratulations leaving his tongue as he left the new parent-son duo with each other. His son had all but thrown himself into Eret’s open arms, a laugh bubbling from his throat as Eret spun him around. Ghostbur knows he should be happy, content that his son had found joy despite the despair-filled days of before. Yet… as he listens to Eret call his son as his… all he sees is red. Fundy was his son.

And if he can’t have Fundy, then no one…

No one can have Fundy.

Ghostbur snapped out from the vision, purpose filling his metaphorical veins as he floated towards his son. His son looked up at him, a curious look on his face as he looks at the picnic basket in Ghostbur’s hands. Ghostbur forced a smile on his face. He just needed to get his son away from here. Then they’ll be together again, this time without all that emotional baggage that Ghostbur didn’t want them to have.

They’d be happy. His son wouldn’t have to worry about being abandoned anymore… and Ghostbur wouldn’t have to watch as his son is torn away from his side by some traitor. He leads them toward a far-off river, the same river they used to visit before the war… before Sally died… His son looks bored, not that Ghostbur minded. After their picnic, why… his son wouldn’t look at him like that ever again. He could barely contain his excitement, topics filtering through his mind as he tries to start a conversation.

They reach the river bank…

His son snaps out of his own reverie at the sound of Ghostbur’s voice, much to his joy. He lets his son peek inside the basket, lets him take out the… unappetizing salad. Ghostbur watches as his son finally takes a bite, doesn’t miss the way his son blanches at the bitter taste… but his son continues on eating.

Ghostbur lets out a sigh of relief, he no longer had anything to fear. His son will be with him soon enough.

He lets his controlled fury direct the conversation, mentioning the traitor’s name to see how his son would react. He can’t say that he isn’t disappointed and regretful when his son’s own anger rises to defend his new… parent. He can’t say he doesn’t feel a twinge of pain when his son collapses from the poison.

His arms curl around his weeping son, reassuring words flowing from his mouth as he tries to console his dying son. He listens to his son’s shallow breathing, listens as they stutter out into silence. He presses his head against his son’s chest, feeling the rapid beat of his son’s heart as it begins to slow down. He holds his son tight against his form, guilt drowning the momentary triumph he had felt a few seconds ago.

“I’m sorry.”

.

.

.

There’s a song on the tip of his tongue, a familiar tune that he once sang as a sweet lullaby.

The clouds begin to fade into a kaleidoscope of color as the sun disappears in the distance.

His mind is foggy.

He doesn’t remember why he is near a river.

He doesn’t remember a single memory of the day.

He doesn’t understand why Fundy is lying so peacefully on the ground.

He doesn’t understand why there’s the remains of a rotting salad in the grass.

He continues to sing.

He doesn’t want to remember.

He doesn’t want to understand.

“D-dad?”

He turns around.

A ghostly visage of his son looks up at him, curious and oh so innocent.

A satisfied grin worms its way through his lips. He doesn’t know why he’s so happy.

“Hello, son.”

~~~~~~~~

I wake up everyday... and choose to write angst.

Anyway, hope you guys liked this! I was bored today so I wanted to write some fanfic.

[namjoon-koya]

The Mandalorian (Episode 1) (1/2)

A/N: THIS TOOK ME ALL DAY TO WRITE (especially since the episode was 39 minutes long but felt like 10 when I watched it) but tumblr won’t let me post the entire thing so I’m going to post the other part:,)

Pairing: Mandalorian x reader (platonic for right now;)

Warning: cursing, violence.

You watched Mando as he pulled out a tracking device and saw its light flash red “we’re close?” He nodded “let’s go.” You both walked side by side in the chilly air as it blowed against the both of you.

It wasn’t rare for the both of you to team up to take on jobs, it was always like that. You weren’t a Mandalorian but you were a bounty hunter just like he was.

“I’ll take a look first before you g-“ he started saying but you quickly cut him off “mando I’m not a damsel in distress so stop treating me like one.” You snapped.

Both of you make it to the bar “I’m going first.” He said not looking at you, you decided to hold your tongue and nod the door opened as he stood there.

He slowly walked in as you followed behind him, everyone stared at the both of you watching every movement you both did.

A man with a long beard stared at Mando before speaking in his native tongue “you spilled my drink..” mando only ignores him as he stands near the bar.

“Hey Mando!” He shouts but mando only continues to ignore him you lean against the wall, he always did this he knew how to play people’s emotions if he didn’t show interest.

You watch the man get closer to Mando “I said, you spilled, my drink...” Mando continues to ignore, you watch everyone shift uncomfortably in their chairs. The awkwardness in the room was getting thicker by the minute “he said you spilled his drink.” The bartender said.

You watch as the man’s lackeys let go of the man you both needed to turn into the guild, they made their way over to Mando as well “it’s fine it’s on me.” The bartender quickly says as he prepares another drink.

You grip your arm tightly watching everything unravel, yes mando always did this but even you weren’t use to it.

“Is that real Beskar steel?” The man asked showing interest in Mando’s armor suddenly one of the man’s lackeys come from behind Mando and uses a knife to scratch the front of his armor.

“Here.” The bartender says as he slides the drink down, suddenly mando stops it from sliding farther down before attacking both of the men that were harassing him he did it so swiftly too.. show off you said to yourself rolling your eyes.

You see one of them try to escape through the door but you quickly trip them making them fall to the ground with a hard thud, before shooting them in the back with your blaster.

Mando nods at you, the people inside the bar watch in disbelief at the event that unfolded in front of them.

Mando then turns his attention to Mythrol who was laughing “thank you! Thank you very much! You have my heartfelt gratitude.” Mando only stares at him making the man quickly cower under his gaze “you know what? Here. You take my credits.” He said as he passed his credits to Mando.

“Buy yourself a drink.” He said smirking at Mando, but he doesn’t take the credits he lays a bounty puck on the table as a hologram of him comes up “oh is that a bounty puck?” Mando doesn’t say anything as he continues to stare at Mythrol.

“Is that me?” He asked dumbfounded, he lets out a sigh “look.. Uh, there must be some mistake I can get you more credits.” Finally mando spoke up “I can bring you in warm...” Mythrol’s eyes see Mando grip his blaster “or I can bring you in cold...” Mythrol looks up at him with fear before looking for any possible escapes “I wouldn’t think of that if I were you.”

Mando looked over at you as did Mythrol his eyes widen realizing there wasn’t any escape he was trapped.

Mando ends up cuffing him leading him out the bar as he follows the both of you “I saw you roll your eyes at me.” Mando said as he continued to walk “don’t worry about it.” You said following him.

Both of you continued to walk until you guys saw a FerryMan he spoke to you both in Kuzbazian you never understood a damn thing he said but of course mando did.

“I need passage to the yards.” He informed the Ferryman, he plays a note on a flute suddenly a landspeeder approached.

A droid inside the landspeeder makes beeping sounds at it looks at you guys, “no droids.” Mando said to the ferryman.

It said something to mando that you couldn’t understand, Mando pulls a credit from his pocket before tossing it to the ferryman as he catches it.

The ferryman plays another note as the landspeeder drives away, suddenly the sound of metal clacking filled you ears as you saw another landspeeder approach but this time with a person.

“Where to?” Asked the man you let out a sigh before looking up at Mando who only stares down at you.

The three of you get on the landspeeder, you sit right next to Mando at times you would quickly look behind you to see what Mythrol was doing but he seemed too afraid to do anything.

But that didn’t stop him from speaking “you know what he’s looking for?” He asked Mando but Mando didn’t say anything as he continued to stare ahead “you’re looking for Ravinakas, right?” He asked the man.

“It’s clear right now but be careful near the port everyone dumps their gray holds out they think the whole entire planet is their own personal stink pit.” The man informs as he continues to drive the landspeeder.

You see the ship approaching closer and closer finally he stops nearby it “here you are.” He says.

You quickly jump out, not waiting for mando or Mythrol “you’re kidding me right?” Mythrol said to mando “get out.” Mando says as he jumps out.

“I’ll hire us a Livery Cruiser not big deal it won’t come out of your end I’ll pay for it.” Mythrol says as Mando pulls him out the landspeeder.

Sometimes you wished you had tape with you, because MAN did he talk a lot to the point where it annoyed you. Maybe it was because you were use to Mando being so quiet at times...

“I’m just trying to make it pleasant.” Mythrol complained, you saw the man looking through his binoculars before turning to you and Mando.

“Hey, it’s time to go, so let’s settle up.” Mando hands him a few credits before walking away “I’d stay off the ice if I were you.” He says before speeding off.

“Do you think there’s really something to worry about?” Mythrol asked you this time knowing he wouldn’t get a response out of Mando.

“Y/N.” Mando calls out you follow right behind him not answering mythrol’s question.

You noticed Mythrol didn’t follow behind you guys “sometimes it’d be nice if he could shut up.” You grumble Mando let out a soft chuckle suddenly you heard Mythrol scream “open the hatch! Open the hatch!”

“Stay here.” He groaned, it only took a few seconds before Mando came back with Mythrol.

The three of you boarded the ship “Dank Farrik that was close!” Mythrol continues to freak out you only roll your eyes again.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” He mumbles, you sat on the right side of Mando as he started up the ship “stay off the ice.” That’s the understatement of the millennium.” The ship was finally about to take off but the three of you felt a rough thud.

Mando continued to push buttons “it’s taking us down, what are you doing?” Mythrol questioned, beeping sounds filled the ship as another thud was felt “it’s got us. It’s gonna take us under.” Mando turns around getting up from his seat “stay here, I’ll be back.” He says.

“Wait where is he going?” Mythrol questioned.

You got up and looked out the window as Mythrol joined you, Mando used his rifle to shock the creature making it finally let go of the ship.

Mando came back upstairs “let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.” Mythrol repeats over and over again. Mando stares at you, you already knew that look he was basically asking are you okay? You nod at him.

Mando sits down in the pilot chair touching a few buttons above him, Mythrol let’s out a long sigh of relief.

Finally you and Mando leave the cold planet, you couldn’t stand being there you hated the cold for many reasons.

The fly back was quiet you preferred it this way as did Mando, the only time you both talked is when you asked him if he was tired which he always said no.

Suddenly the silence was cut short by Mythrol “whew.. I like your ship. She’s a classic, Razor crest am I right?.. pre-empire? I have a lot of credits by the way that’s why I offered to hail a cruiser.” Mando didn’t say anything as he glance at you for a bit before turning his attention back ahead.

Mythrol looked at you before clearing his throat “so.. are you two like a thing? Married? Boyfriend-girlfriend?” You didn’t say anything you quietly tapped your finger on your leg.

“How much are they paying you?... is it true you guys never take off your helmets?” You knew mando was growing impatient with the man but didn’t show it.

Mythrol let’s out an exhale “boy I think I have to use the the vacc tube.” Seriously? You thought.

“I mean I could do it here but if you’ve never seen a Fledgling Mythrol evacuate their thorax, you’re a lucky guy trust me.” Mando continued to say nothing as he pressed another button.

Mythrol got up from his chair but Mando didn’t look at him “clearly. There’s nowhere for me to go so Uh.. I’m gonna look for that vacc tube if it’s all the same for you?” He was basically waiting for a reaction from mando but of course still nothing “great.” He chuckles, he gives you a quick nod before leaving.

“Stop doing that Y/N I can feel you glaring.” Mando says as you let out a sigh “sorry I just wanted a peaceful ride.” You said crossing your arms.

“Found it!” He shouts “thanks. Might take

a while. I’m molting.” You scrunched your nose when he said that.

You could hear something open and then close you already knew what he was doing as did Mando, he was just waiting for the right moment “oh, this feels a lot better I haven’t evacuated since the solstice.” It went quiet for a bit “yeah. I was hoping to be free for Life day. Maybe even uh..” his voice grew quiet.

You saw Mando quietly get up from his seat, you didn’t follow him down you knew what mando was going to do “get home to the family... but I guess that’s not gonna happen this year.” After that you didn’t hear anything.

The only thing you could hear was a loud blowing sound, you never said anything about what mando did it wasn’t your place he came back and sat down “he wasn’t molting.” He said.

“I didn’t even want to know Mando!” You groaned.

The flight back was finally quiet again, you saw the small town approaching as Mando touched more buttons to prepare for landing.

Finally the both of you landed near the entrance of the town “I’ll met you outside.” He said before turning off his ship, you nodded as you walked off the ship.

You waited for him as he finally came out the ship “Alright let’s go.” You follow right behind him, both of you walked inside a bar this place was always full.. you hated coming but since you and Mando were a team you always accompanied him.

You notice some people stare at him, some almost never stared at you since you weren’t a mandalorian you didn’t seem like a threat but they always saw him as one.

You look up at him, but he seemed unfazed by their glances finally both of you saw Greef Karga.

He looked at you both “ah that was fast, did you both catch them all?” He asked, Mando laid the trackers on the table showing Greef that both of you did.

Greef glanced up at Mando smirking “good. I’ll begin the off-load.” He spoke to another man that was standing near the wall he nodded before heading off somewhere.

Mando took off his weapon that was on his back before sitting down across from Greef, you decided to stay up standing.

Greef looked up at you “Y/N you look ravishing as always.” You roll your eyes at him “like I haven’t heard that one before.” Greef only smirked from your sarcasm.

Greef looked at Mando before pulling out something and setting it down on the table, Mando glanced down before looking back at Greef “these are imperial credits.”

“They still spend.” Greef says to him.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the empire is gone.”

“It’s all I’ve got.” Greef said as he leaned back, Mando reached to get the trackers back but was stopped by Greef “save the theatrics. Fine I’ll...” Greef then pulled another thing from his pocket “I can do calamari Flan..” he puts it beside the imperial credits.

“But I can only pay half.” Mando gives him a glance before putting the trackers back on the table “fine.” He says as he takes the calamari flan.

Mando asked for another job, you mentally sighed he never once rested it was always job after job after job. You even had to remind him to take a break at times but of course he never took anyone’s advice.

“Hm.. I have a bail jumper.. a bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler.”

“I’ll take them all.” Mando says as he begins to reach for the bounty pucks but Greef stops him “no, hold on there are other members of the guild, and this is all I have.” Greef informs.

“Why so slow?” Mando asked him.

“It’s not slow at all actually, very busy they just don’t want to pay Guild rates. They don’t mind if things get sloppy.”

“What’s your highest bounty?” Mando asked.

“Not much, Five thousand.”

“That won’t even cover fuel these days.”

Greef looks down for a bit, as he thinks of another job for the both of you he clicks his tongue before speaking “hm, there is one job.”

You notice a few people turn their attention on Mando and Greef “let’s see the puck.”

“No puck.” You snap your attention back onto them, you’ve never heard of a bounty having no puck.

“Face to face, direct commission deep pocket.” Once Greef said that you knew mando would take the job without any hesitation.

“Underworld?” He asked Greef “all I know is no chain code.” Greef pulls out something before showing it to Mando “do you want the chit or not?” Mando doesn’t hesitate to take it from Greef “let’s go.” He says to you.

You follow behind him.

The both of you walk side by side “you really don’t take any breaks do you?”

“Nope, but you still continue to be with me.” He says to you “yeah because someone has to make sure you take breaks and don’t push yourself.”

You both walk into an alleyway with few people, both of then walk down a few stairs. You notice that now there wasn’t any you continued to follow Mando until he stopped in front of a door.

Mando knocks on the metal door, the both of you wait that’s when a small droid like camera comes out of hole that was beside the door, it asks Mando for the chit as he pulls it out and shows it.

It scans the chit before going back inside the hole, the metal door slides open you see another droid machine inside Mando walks in first as you follow behind.

The metal door shuts behind you guys. The droid starts speaking but you don’t pay attention to it you only look around your surroundings that’s when you see another door.

It opens to reveal stormtroopers, the four of them look at the both of you Mando doesn’t tense up as he walks in you felt your fingers slightly tremble as you walk in as well.

“Greef Karga said you both were coming.” An old man said as he stared at the both of you, Mando didn’t say anything as he walked forward to him.

You stood next to Mando “what else did he say?” He asked him.

“He said that both of you were the best in the parsec.” Suddenly another metal door slides open making Mando quickly point his blaster at the person coming through the door.

You saw the stormtroopers raise their weapon at Mando, you quickly pointed your blaster at them “freeze!” One of them shouts, you couldn’t see the person Mando was pointing his blaster at but from his voice you could tell he sounded afraid.

“Drop your weapons!” Another shouts, you and Mando didn’t though “no, no, no, no! Pardon Uh, sorry I didn’t mean to alarm.”

The old man got up from his chair “this is doctor Pershing please excuse his lack of decorum, his enthusiasm outweighs his discretion please lower your blaster.” The man said.

“Have them lower theirs first.” Mando said as he checked on you.

You continued to glare the stormtroopers in front of you, “we have you four to two.”

Mando didn’t seem hesitant “I like those odds.” He said in a somewhat amused voice.

The older man stepped closer to mando “he also said you both were expensive, very expensive. Please sit.” He motions to the stormtroopers to low their weapons and they do.

Finally you lower yours, you put your blaster back inside it’s holster that was on your thigh, Mando finally lowers his on Dr.Pershing he walks over and sits down but you stand right behind Mando “there’s a chair as well if you want to sit.” He gestured beside Mando.

“I’m fine.” You quietly said crossing your arms.

He gives you one last look before turning his attention to Mando, he slides over something to Mando it was inside some kind of cloth.

He unfolds the cloth revealing Beskar, it was the highest and best pay “Beskar?” Mando asked tilting his head.

“Go ahead it’s real.” Mando reaches over and grabs the Beskar examining it “this is only a down payment, I have a camtono of Beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the asset.” He informs.

“Alive.” Dr.Pershing says.

“Yes. Alive. Although I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession This being the case proof of termination is also acceptable on a lower fee.”

Dr.Pershing looks at him confused “that is not what we agreed on.” You looked over at him confused.

“I’m simply being pragmatic.” He said to Dr.Pershing.

“Let’s see the Puck.” Mando says.

“I’m afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement we can only offer you a tracking fob.” Dr.Pershing hands Mando a tracker.

Mando grabs it and puts it in his pocket “what’s the chain code?”

“We can only provide the last four digits.” You glance at Mando “their age? That’s all you can give us?”

“Yes. They’re 50 years old we can also give you last reported positional data between that and the fob. A man of your skill should make short work of this.” Mando doesn’t say anything as he gets up and goes to the door.

You follow behind him “the Beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian it is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray don’t you agree?” Mando listens to every word he says but as usual doesn’t say anything.

The door opens letting the both of you leave.

“Are you alright?” He asked you in his rough deep voice you shrug “there’s worst things that happened then having a gun raised at my head.” You say to him, the both of you continued to walk until you saw him stop in front of something.

You knew where Mando was going, that’s when you stopped following him “Y/N.. you can always come.” He says to you.