#challange fic

[jocollins]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Idiots in Love, Healing, Eventual Happy Ending, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fic or Treat Summary:

Post canon soft morning. Even after all this time, they are each other's safe place.

[artssslut2]

This side by side.

[sceletaflores]

thinking about college!patrick bending you over in the bathroom at a house party. 18+

you really should have known better than to let patrick take your hand and drag you away from drunkenly dirty dancing with tashi in the middle of the room.

maybe it was the two vodka redbull’s you slammed—or the joint you and tashi stole from some underclassmen trying to get into your pants—clouding your judgement.

whatever it was allowed you to let the strong grip of patrick’s hand guide you through the dance floor. weaving through crowded bodies gyrating to nelly furtado and up the stairs of whoever’s house this was until patrick pushed open the door to a blessedly empty bathroom, and yanks you inside.

you can’t even start to ask him what the hell you're doing in here before he’s got you pinned up against the door and fucking your mouth with his tongue. your surprised moan is muffled by patrick's mouth as he messily kisses you. he tastes like cheep beer and cigarettes.

"do you have any idea how fucking hot you look?" he grates out against your spit slick lips, grabbing the meat of your hips a little too harshly. "i've been hard for the last thirty minutes because you," he says, tone accusatory like you deliberately caused the hard line of his erection currently pressing into your stomach, "you did this, now you have to deal with it."

well that's how it started. now patricks got you bent over the sink of some randoms bathroom, panties pooled at your ankles and skirt hiked up around your hips as he sinks his unfairly huge cock into your already drenched pussy. "you got this worked up just from my tongue in your mouth? jesus, you're such an easy slut."

he barely gives you any time to get used to the thick stretch of his dick before he's moving, thrusting hard enough to sting your ass with the force of his hips smacking against you. "fuck! patrick— shit!" you moan loudly, grabbing the edge of the sinks counter to brace yourself. patrick's quick to shush you harshly, plastering himself to your back and shoving his thick fingers into your mouth to muffle the too loud keens and squeals he's fucking out of you.

"there's probably a line out there," he rasps wetly into your hair, leaning down to lick the shell of your ear, "you gotta be quiet baby, you don't want everyone out there hearing how much of a slut you are for my cock, do you?"

your cheeks burn fiercely as patrick's hot breath ghosts over your ear, spewing filth as he rams his thick cock into your tight, clenching hole over and over, the rough material of his jeans scratching against your skin since he couldn’t be bothered to do more than unzip and whip his cock out, too eager to get in you. the squelch that his cock makes on each mean stroke into your wet pussy has your ears tingling and your thighs shaking.

there's banging coming from the other side of the door, an angry voice shouting as the knob is jostled harshly, "bro hurry the fuck up!"

patricks pace doesn't even falter. if anything the snap of his hips speeds up. "fuck off!" his rough voice shouts back, hand moving from off your hip and up to your shoulder, letting him force you back to meet his thrusts. you moan around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel the familiar warmth start to grow in the pit of your stomach.

“fuck yeah, i can feel you fucking clenching up on me. you gonna come baby?” he grips your hair is his fist, yanking your head to the side to seal his lips on your neck. “yeah, me too. fucking shit, i’m gonna bust all in your fucking pussy baby. you better come with me. you better fucking come with me.”

that’s all it takes before you’re coming on patrick’s dick. you think you may scream, biting down way too hard on the fingers still in your mouth. patrick’s not far behind, cock giving one final jerk before he’s spraying your insides with his warm come. he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder in an attempt to stifle his groans as he comes. he doesn’t stop thrusting, letting each of you ride out your orgasms. only just as it gets to be a little too much does he stop.

patrick stays with his sweaty forehead pressed to your shoulder for a few beats, breathing heavily as he comes down from draining his balls so deep in your guts. slowly, he raises his head to meet your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. his face is flushed, curly black hair stuck to his forehead. he looks completely fucked, you both do. your hair is a mess and there’s two angry red hickeys already darkening on your neck.

patrick smirks at the state of both of you reflecting back at him in the mirror, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a stupid smug look on his face. no doubt relishing in the fact that the two of you have to go back down looking like this. he drops your hair from his fist and pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping the drool that leaked out around them as he does.

“i hate you,” you mutter quietly, still trying to catch your breath. patrick snorts out a laugh, wincing when he pulls his sensitive cock out of you. “yeah sure,” he replies, tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping up. he drops to his knees behind you, at first you think he’s going for round two but as you open your mouth to protest he starts pulling your panties up your legs and over your ass.

“you need to wear this dress more often.” he says, planting a sweet kiss on your left ass cheek, well as sweet a kiss he can while still nipping at your soft skin. you don’t respond with words, only an annoyed huff as you drop you skirt back down around your hips.

you just have to hope that it’s long enough to cover the stream of patrick’s come trickling down your thighs.

—————

taglist!

@callsign-artemis @ebodebo @yuenity

[lilmaymayy]

Challengers on amazon prime is so unhealthy for me IM ON THEIR EVERY NIGHT RELIVING CHALLENGER SUMMER😩😩

My obsession will never go away now😈😈

[jasico-challenges]

Have you ever heard of Jasico Challenges?

We're a blog that host creative challenges open to all kinds of media and ages. The theme of our events is Jasico, the romantic pairing between Jason Grace and Nico di Angelo on the Riordanverse.

We've had prompt weeks, a gift exchange and a bingo challenge and have plans for future events! We want to continue providing you with these amazing events that spread the Jasico love, but we need people!

Share this post to get the word out to Jasico creators who still don't know about us, and while you're at it, fill out our Interest Form, in which you can inform me about your participation this semester so I feel like we're ready for another event and suggest new challenge ideas.

I'll be so happy if you contribute, I really want to host another Jasico event, but I need some kind of support from the participants, after all, I'm doing all of this for you guys! Love you all! ♥♥♥

[jamtoro]

Just a drabble in large part inspired by the first Challengers fic I read by @cybersunnie Content warning for masturbation but this is mostly just mutual pining

- Of course you knew who Art Donaldson was, because, really, who didn't? So why wouldn't you be surprised when he approached you, offering to be your hitting partner for the night?

- You hesitated on your response, a mixture of embarrassment (you were practicing for a mandatory athletics class and were far from being even decent) and confusion (why would he ask you? What did he gain from it?).

- But, still, you agreed. Practicing tennis with Art, the Art Donaldson, was not an opportunity afforded to many beginners (at least you imagined). And despite the preemptive embarrassment, it beat hitting a ball against a wall.

- So, you begin with a backhand warm up before advancing to a rally.

- You miss volleys left and right, and even fall on your ass at some point. But with the cool spring night breeze on your sweat-slick skin and a lack of the pressure you thought you'd feel when sparring with Art, that 10 AM lecture class you have tomorrow feels light years away.

- When you've both had enough (well, you're sick of running after missed balls and you feel bad for making Art watch you flounder) you thank him, trying not to fall into realm of gratuitous gratitude. "I know it's not what you're used to, and it felt like torture at times, but thank you. I had a lot of fun losing to you."

- "You're not terrible," Art says, looking at you. Really looking at you, a soft smile on his face. You open your mouth to protest, but he tilts his head back a certain way as if to say Are you really going to debate me on that? Me? And you avoid breaking into a gigantic grin, but your giddiness is evident.

- You felt drunk on luck. First he offers to be your partner for the night, then he complements you. Well, sort of, but it's enough to make your heart stammer in your chest.

- You'd be lying if you said Art didn't look beautiful under the florescent light of the tennis court, a light sweat above his brow. And the scent of his musk, it could grow addicting.

- and you'd be lying if you said Art wasn't the reason why you continued to practice tennis on late nights. Some nights you saw him practicing with someone, sometimes he was alone, sometimes he showed up after you, but most nights you practiced alone. But lighting can strike twice, you told yourself.

- It took until the night of your last final, but thankfully eventually Art approached you.

- "Most people leave as soon as their last final's over, but you're still here," He says. "Summer classes," is all you manage in return. You force a barely there smile with pressed lips. You're wrought with tension.

- "There's a two week bre--" "Can you teach me tennis?" You cut Art off, the words basically stumbling out of your mouth. "I can pay you whatever, and I won't whine, and I know you have your own practices, but I just want you. I want to play tennis with you."

- It's bold and you know you're asking for a lot. You hold your breath as you wait for an answer.

- Art pauses in consideration, turning your words over in his mind. And your heart twists like a wrung towel as you watch a faint smile tug on one side of his mouth. "If you can win against me, I'll coach you."

- Your mind goes into hyperdrive with inquiries. Why would he say that? Does he really believe I could beat him? What happens when I lose? Does he have to be this cruel? Am I too desperate? Is it obvious? And before you could even begin to verbalize such a question, you see Art setting down his tennis bags on the far end of the court.

- "Are you gonna go easy on me?" You yell from the other side as you stretch your upper body.

- "How could I assess your abilities as your coach without seeing how far you'll go?" Art asks when he finishes a set of side lunges.

- yeah, you're gonna lose.

- And at least it's not a humiliating loss. You've definitely improved since the first time you and Art played, even managing a point here and there (but deep down you feel like Art let you have those). And even though you've lost two of three games, you're laughing, you're joking, you're having fun. Even though you approached Art so seriously, so desperately, you can't take yourself seriously, not in earnest, even when playing for something as coveted as a Summer with Art. And you can't even hate yourself for it because you feel so free.

- "I won't torture you with the idea of a rematch, so thank you for playing with me." You say, hand extended as you walk towards the net. "I'll still see you around, right?"

- But Art doesn't respond when he shakes your hand. He kind of just stands there for a moment, shaking your hand in a trance.

- Within Art, something shifted, or clicked, rather.

- No stranger to desperation, he recognized it in you, saw himself reflected in your curious eyes. And though he expected himself to be more repulsed by your desperation, each volley blunted the edges of such an emotion.

- And it helped he saw what Tashi loved about tennis within you.

- Maybe you could've been great if you had more than a casual interest in the sport, or if you had started in the single digits like the rest of the college athletes, or if you stopped blowing rasberies and laughing everytime you hit the ball into the net. But you didn't care about greatness. And to Art, it almost seemed like you didn't care about winning him as a coach, not for lack of trying, but because you became someone else on the court. You found a liberation that Art could only dream of. A liberation that could only be afforded to someone who's highest aspiration is the intermural leagues. Your relationship with tennis, with your opponent was more self-serving. This was less of a relationship and more so voyeurism.

- And that appealed to Art in some capacity.

- "I mean, you played pretty well, considering," Art finally says, returning to himself. "Do Tuesdays work for you?"

- It scratches an itch to be wanted. Even if it isn't by the person you want.

- Art reminded himself of this, like a mantra, on the first night he cums to the thought of you. A late night tennis session turned mildly risqué with an absent minded question ("Do you think some people use rackets sexually?" You asked before the stream of laugh that followed due to Art's flusted expression) was all Art really needed to follow through on what was a burgeoning feeling.

- On one hand, Art struggled to remember why he's keeping himself from you. He's already this close. You never shy from his touch when he corrects your grip on the racket. You don't seem to mind sharing towels or water. And he feels the way you watch him, even when his back is turned.

- On the other, he's kicking himself. Even though he's only your senior by a year and he's not an official coach by any standard, it feels wrong. Especially when he's the catalyst in Tashi and Patrick's teetering relationship. You were meant to be a scapegoat if Patrick and Tashi got messy and Art's culpiblity was revealed. You were not supposed to stay.

- But being wanted is like a drug. And the thought of your mouth on his, along his body, around him, is irresistible.

- He knew, as he watched his cum thin out and disperse in the shower stream, that this wouldn't be the only time he came to the thought of you.

- (Should he feel ashamed that he's wrapped around your finger, too, even though you're the one who wants him so obviously?)

- Art leaves the locker room without looking in the mirror.

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Hi, are you okay I hope so, could you recommend me some Error × ink fics?

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

From Your Point of View by 0Sion0, TGK Translations (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

They say that to understand another person you should imagine yourself in their place. But what are you to do when you're pretty much forced into the body of your sworn enemy?

The Two Cockroaches by Mutatedbunnies (Mature, Incomplete)

In the aftermath of a messy breakup, Ink moves into the city to begin his life anew. After a fateful encounter with his neighbor, he falls head over heels for someone new. Error, a graduate student who’s hesitant when it comes to romance, is immediately swept up in Ink’s brilliance and vitality, unable to stop himself. While Ink and Error are consumed with one another, their friends and family fall into romantic affairs of their own. Cross, Error’s best friend, falls in love at first sight with Ink’s ex-boyfriend, who isn’t sure he’s ready for a new beau just yet. Geno, a promising young doctor, has an unfortunate tendency to be stalked by one of the hospital’s top forensic pathologists, Reaper.

I want your soul | Errorink / Errink by Yumikokun (General Audiences, Incomplete)

~ This story is inspired by another one...so if you stumble upon a story similar to this one, you know where I got the inspiration :) ~ . . . A story about a young prince who lives in a castle with his three older brothers. The oldest brother catches a mysterious flu that can not be healed with simple treatment. And thus, the kingdom is ruled by the second heir. The young prince, desperate to find salvation in healing his brother, travels in search of a wizard who might help him. Though, he stumbles upon more than he anticipated. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Published: 2nd of June 2022 Ended: ?

Curiosity Killed the ErROr by ShandyCandy278 (Teen And Up, Complete)

After realizing that he knows next to nothing about how Ink came to be and that the guardian knows nothing as well, Error decides to start looking into it. The Creators are egging him on, and shenanigans from the other outcodes are proving to be quite the distraction; Ink just wants to be his friend (not happening), Dream is acting weird, and Nightmare can't believe his eye. The chances of Error learning everything are slim-to-none, but since when did that stop him?

Tangled Memories by honey_bubbletea33 (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Ink is forgetful, sure, but he remembers basic, necessary things, most of the time. So when Error finds him clueless, unable to remember how he got there or any of the people he interacted with, it's nothing short of a good opportunity. Ink knows where the Omega Timeline is, so Error can just go there and destroy it, right...? Turns out, Ink's memory is still limited at best, which leads him and Error on a hunt for more clues about Ink's previous life in the Omega Timeline, revealing a side of Ink Error never knew about. ...All he needs is for Ink to never remember who they were to each other.

[leveragetober]

hello and welcome to the very first leveragetober!!

here is the prompt list for leveragetober 2023!! under the cut will be a more in detail/id for the guidelines and prompt lists and feel free to either dm or send an ask if you have any questions!!

Guidelines

Tag your posts #leveragetober23 and #leveragetober or just tag the blog so we can all see your creations!!

The prompts are here as a guideline, if you have an idea based on a prompt, that's totally fine, have fun with it!

You don't have to worry about following every single prompt either, if you're too busy or don't have any ideas, that's okay too, this is meant to be fun not an added stressor

ID Prompt List.

Food 17. Power

Rain 18. Redemption

Family 19. Job Gone Wrong

Crossover 20. Kids

Birthday 21. Trapped

Caught 22. Chess

Lies 23. Monster/Ghost Hunters

Museum 24. Blood

Past 25. Role Swap

Alternate Universe 26. Fantasy/Magical

Kiss 27. Reunion

Pride 28. Vents

Confession 29. Nightmare

Future 30. Halloween

Poison 31. Free Space

Game Nights

thanks for all the support and we can't wait to see what everyone creates!! <3

[bruciemilf]

can't believe people don't realize how fucking dramatic Harvey is. This mf probably auditioned for Hamlet and Macbeth In the school play 4 years in a row, flopped, and cried about it.

He was debate team captain. He probably corrected teachers in every class. He was the " Okay, controversial opinion here" bastard you PRAYED wouldn't come to class. I want him carnally

[houseofprongs]

i've been thinking about pandalily for weeks... i need more content... lest i starve

[artssslut2]

Can we all take a moment for dilf art at a wedding.

[babeydollx]

🎀🎄 Kinkmas 2023 🎄🎀

So, I was going to do Kinkcember but, since I already know I won't be able to do all 31 days this month because of my schedule, I decided I would do Kinkmas instead. So, I will not be starting Kinkmas until December 14th. This way the 12th day will end on December 25th.

I will list below what I will be doing for all 12 days. (Dec. 14th-25th)

!THIS IS NOT THE MASTERLIST! JUST A HEADS UP/NOTICE!

01. BREEDING ♡ Billy Hargrove (dec 14th)

02. TIT FUCKING ♡ Damon Salvatore (dec. 15th)

03. THIGH RIDING ♡ William Afton (dec. 16th)

04. VIRGINITY ♡ Steve Harrington (dec. 17th)

05. NIPPLE PIERCINGS ♡ JJ Maybank (dec. 18th)

06. PRAISE KINK ♡ Mike Schmidt (dec. 19th)

07. SQUIRTING ♡ Maddy Perez (dec. 20th)

08. CHOKING + SPITTING + HAIR PULLING ♡ Eddie Munson (dec. 21st)

09. DEGRADING KINK ♡ Dean Winchester (dec. 22nd)

10. HICKEYS ♡ Sarah Cameron (dec. 23rd)

11. ROUGH SEX ♡ Kai Parker (dec. 24th)

12. ROLEPLAY ♡ Rafe Cameron (dec. 25th)

I will be posting other Christmas fics before December 25th and while I am doing Kinkmas so stay tuned for that too, xoxo 💗

[subacctformaribat]

A Challange Worth Takeing On!

It has been four years since Hawkmoth’s defeat (Chat gave up his Miraculous after the defeat and then disappeared) and Marinette traveled to Gotham to get away from her past. After Hawkmoth’s defeat Marinette, being the guardian of the miraculous, decided to take the miraculous elsewhere(and also get away from Lila and her old friends). Where she found herself was in Gotham where she met a tall dark haired boy that she now calls her Husband, his name is Damian Wayne. Now after three years of marriage (even though Damian’s brothers still don’t believe that their younger brother could find love and keep a girl long enough to marry) Marinette and Damian now have another challenge ahead of them.

This is one challenge that they both are new too but won’t be as hard as fighting a villain and one that will bring much joy to them both and the family. 

Marinette is four months pregnant and the only person who knows that are the Kawmis and Damian the challenge they have is that they have still yet to tell either of their families and still live in the Wayne manor which was quite a feat to keep the news from Alfred and Bruce for as long as they have. Damian and Marinette found out in the first month of her being pregnant and have kept it a secret for three months ,and now they have to tell their families before they find out for themselves and have to deal with another mess. The reason they have kept it a secret is because they wanted a chance to prepare for the smothering of the family once they found out about the soon to be new addition to the family.

Which brings us to now where they have gathered the family in the dining room full of shenanigans and two expecting parents wondering if they should keep their secret or not.  

XXXXX

“Hey little D why does pixie pop look like she is about to run away , did you finally scare her off.”Jason teased 

“No Todd, if anything would deter my Angel it would be you being rambunctious ” Damian glared at Jason.

Tim decided to pop up in the conversation a little intrigued by Damian’s response “Why would us being rambunctious be the cause when she has never been bothered by it before unless you are hiding something from us?”

“Yeah baby bird , ‘Nette has been avoiding seeing anyone besides Sabine, Alfred , or Bruce for about three months now!” Dick exclaimed   

Marinette decided now was a good time to speak up and give a glare to her three brother-in-laws  “ I have not been avoiding anyone Dick , I was simply protecting myself from being in a crushing hug or someone crashing into me”

From that the room went silent as everyones’ worries began to grow as this was an unusual statement from the girl.

Everyone was worried about their favorite little designer and demon tamer wondering if she was  injured somehow or if something bad happened.

Sabine was the first to speak “ are you okay honey why are you avoiding crushing hugs?”

Her mother was properly worried because she knew her daughter was never one to shy away from hugging a family member.

“Well mamma the reason why Dami and I have stayed after the monthly dinner and joined everyone in the living room this time around is because we have big news for everyone.”Mari said 

***Damian’s family and Marinette’s family have a monthly dinner to catch up and whatnot with each other , then they usually gather in the living room after to play games or to try and embarrass one another ,which it was usually the latter so Marinette and Damian did not hang around after dinner often.*****

Jason popped up and said “ You're not finally leaving demon spawn are you?”

Damian was about to retort to Jason when Marinette jumped up and yelled at Jason, surprising and worrying Damian due to how fast she got up ,and the others worried due to her actually yelling at all.  

“No, Jay, I will not be leaving Dami as I am four months pregnant and don’t enjoy you calling the father of my unborn child demon spawn!”  (that nickname always hit a cord with Marinette and she has not corrected it but she is hormonal due to being pregnant and just sort of lashed out at Jason) 

“Angel! You should not get up so fast! You could hurt yourself and our baby!”,Damian scolded 

Mari for her rashness and that did not go unnoticed by the family and put it away to tease him about it later for when he was not around Marinette. Which was wise on their part as they did not want to aggravate the pregnant Mari more.

After they got over the shock of Mari yelling at Jason and Damian scolding her they finally let what was yelled at Jason to sink in!

[jasico-challenges]

Do you like bingo challenges and Jasico? If you do, we might have just what you want!

In the month of February Jasico Challenges is hosting a Valentine's Day Bingo Challenge, where participants sign-up and choose between a looong list of prompts that will get randomized onto a bingo card!

The goal is to try to fill all of the squares in form of any media you'd like (fanfiction, fanart, gifs, edits, moodboards, etc) until you Blackout the card. Those who do that or complete Five in a Roll will get a cute badge to brag with at the end of the event!

Here's what your card will look like (minus the symbols on the squares, those will get relaced by the actual prompts):

If you're interested, sign-up here! Sign-ups will be open through all of February so you can do that anytime you'd like!

Check our Calendar for dates and FAQ in case you have any questions, or drop them in this blog's ask box.

[penvisions]

i'd give anything for more time {sneakie peek}

A/N: i haven't quite finished writing for the roll-a-trope challenge the lovely @burntheedges is hosting. but i have this moodboard and a little snippet for it done enough to share! my trope was #13 time loop / groundhog day with the ever entertaining agent whiskey - jack daniels

The coffee shop is bustling, the grinding of beans, the buzz of many voices, the dings and mechanical sounds of the register, of the phones in people’s hands, music over speakers, the steam want of an espresso machine working away.

And Jack is standing in the middle of it all, for what feels like the millionth time.

He’s not real, at least…he doesn’t think he’s real.

The first few times he was here, it seemed like he just appeared amidst the hustle and bustle of a weekday morning. He’s confused, he was just in the middle of a meeting. Asking if he wanted to pick up a job even though he’s retired. He faintly remembers an argument. All heated words and half responses that had turned into forlorn words. His tall legs carrying him out of a door, out of an entryway lined with frames photos and art, a colorful catchall dish by the door containing keys. He had dug them into his palm as the door closed behind him, he looks at it now though there are no marks or redness.

He had left something behind, someone behind. Even if he can’t recall their figure or face.

All he knows is the hectic space he occupies now. Though even when he stands in line to order, resigned to the task he’s spaced out in the middle of doing, he feels like it’s familiar too. No one seems to care that he’s in line, they walk in front of him like he’s not even there. But he lets it go, mind busy with trying to reclaim the events that led him here.

The job he had taken doesn’t even register, he’s unaware if this is a part of it. Staking out, searching for someone, searching for information. He has no clue how he got here, why he’s here or why the cheery barista behind the counter doesn’t seem to hear him when he saunters up to the register to finally place his order.

She steadfastly ignores him, even as he leans over the counter and tips the hat atop his head. He’s in his typical ‘blend in with the civilians’ outfit, tight jeans, nice dark boots that match his leather jacket over a plain white shirt. His amber sunglasses hang from his collar and his belt buckle clinks against the edge of the marble as he leans closer.  His smile falters as she sees right through him and begins to talk to the woman behind him. Easily taking her order and then moving onto the person behind her.

Shoving off from the counter with a frown, he raises a hand to thumb at his bottom lip. Stretching a hand over the small partition between the display case and the public, he snags a pastry. But no words of ‘hey, sir you’ve got to pay for that!’ or other reprimands color the air.

He wanders around the shop, looking for someone out of place. Looking for someone who could be undercover like him. But everything is normal. Everything down to the minutes ticking by on the large clock, the to go cups placed on the pick up counter and then being swept away by impatient hands to the conversations that he begins to sift through with almost burning ears.

Everything is normal.

Except for the fact that he’s invisible.

Just as suddenly as he found himself in the coffee shop, his vision faded and he was gone from it too.

[aligatorfishcave]

#2 - P.Z Little Sister

minimal use of y/n

In 3rd person cause i hate myself and cant write any other way

she/her but like, if you wanna ignore it please do

word count: 1307/1.3k

her love interest may or may not be inspired by top gun cause like challengers, I'm obsessed with it.

warnings: as far as I know there aren't any warnings, let me know if there are any and I'll add them, mostly just fluff, some flirting and maybe a bit of angst, also some swearing.

—

2007

—

It wasn't hard to tell when Patrick Zweig was on campus. At Stanford or Yale, he always made a ruckus, either fighting with his sister, flirting with Tashi or messing around with Art. 

Chaos incarnate.

He visited Y/N often enough but honestly it wasn’t hard to see how Patrick favoured Art and Tashi at Stanford over Y/N at Yale.

—

Y/N sat in the back of the lecture hall, chewing on her pen as the speaker explained his techniques for calculating the statistics behind the stock market. She stopped chewing on her pen long enough to quickly scribble down a few notes.

The hall wasn't exactly quiet. Although Yale was one of the most coveted colleges in the world, a fair amount of its students got in as legacies from previous students, teachers and even ancestors, if the kid was desperate enough. The statistics lectures were more of a blowoff class than anything else, people talking, doing their nails, eating, even throwing a football around. The few who were actually listening, sat near the back of the class, all keeping their distance from each other.

When she’d written her notes, the end of the pen went back into her mouth, her other hand tapping on her paper.

“Chewing on pens isn't good for you. The ink can explode and it really doesn't taste good.” A voice in front of her said. Each level of the seats and desks, going further back into the room were more elevated than the last, so Y/N had to look down and lean forward slightly to see who was talking to her.

In the seat in front of her, a woman with her hair pulled straight back into a tight bun sat, half turned around in her seat to look at Y/N with a grin.

“No shit Sherlock.” Y/N said, letting her pen drop onto the table. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nyla, nice to meet you sweetheart.” The girl, Nyla, said, still grinning at Y/N like she was god's gift to the world. She would probably like Patrick.

—

A few weeks after the class, after the two girls had exchanged numbers, they had been texting non-stop. 

That was exactly what Y/N was doing before someone decided to interrupt her.

“Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice yelled out, accompanied by two sets of feet stomping along the concrete as they made a bee-line for her. Patrick and Art.

She laughed slightly, slipping her phone into her pocket and standing up just before they practically tackled her into a hug between them.

“What are you doing here!” She laughed, wrapping her arms around the two boys.

“Surprise road-trip!!!” Patrick practically yelled, pulling his sister closer and spinning her around as Art laughed.

—

Two hours later Art and Patrick were sitting in the front seats of Patricks shitty old car with Y/N lying in the backseat texting Nyla.

“So. How's school?” Patrick said, glancing back at his sister. “Who are you texting?” He changed the question before she could even answer it.

“School’s fine and it’s none of your damn business who I’m texting.” She said, glaring at him without really looking away from her phone.

“Ooooo. Y/N’s got a boyfriend.” Art teased, essentially turning around fully in the passenger seat.

She rolled her eyes, shoving that little bit of guilt away for not correcting him, even though Nyla wasn't even her girlfriend, she couldn't bring herself to admit she liked a girl, her new friend, in a romantic way. “Piss off, Art. How’s Tashi?”

She knew it was a low blow, bringing up the girl that they both loved and desperately wanted. When neither of them answered, the silence loud, she laughed slightly, going back to scrolling on her phone.

—

Two days later, after having switched between sleeping and driving periodically between the three of them, they finally pulled into the carpark of Art’s dorm at Stanford.

In the front seat, Y/N rested her head in her palm, glancing back at the two boys who were passed out against each other. She let them rest for a few minutes more before slamming down on the horn, startling them both awake.

“Son of a bitch that's loud.” Art groaned, earning a laugh from Y/N and a grunt from her brother, who pried himself off Art and opened the door, climbing out of the car with a groan.

Y/N kept laughing to herself, her and Art following as they all grabbed their stuff from the boot, continuing to follow Patrick to go meet up with Tashi before their game.

Art had a non-competitive match, what a smart idea, going on a 45 hour road trip there and back before a match, and Tashi had a non-competitive match, but with how well she played it might as well have been competitive. Despite the two women never having met, Y/N had an insane amount of respect for Tashi. Not just for being the number 1 female player in the USA, but for dealing with her brother's bullshit and somehow not hating him.

The tennis grounds were closer to the middle of the grounds and a fair walk away from where the car was parked, so Y/N got to see the Stanford campus, not that it lived up to Yale in her opinion.

Her and Patrick said goodbye to Art as he went to warm up, the siblings heading up into the stadium and finding seats. There were a few matches before Art and then Tashi, so they had plenty of time.

Eventually, the blonde made his way onto the court, destroying his opponent 2 to 1. He joined them in the stands a bit before Tashi went on, though Patrick left a few minutes after Art got there and wasn’t back when Tashi started playing.

The match was going well, Tashi was going easy on the girl but keeping a steady lead. Beside Y/N, Art's head wasn't moving like everyone else's, watching Tashi instead of the ball.

One misstep. One ill calculated move. She hit the ground, a scream filled with pure pain escaping her.

Art was up in seconds, Y/N on his tail. He shoved through people in his path to get to Tashi. Practically jumping down the stairs to get to her. He sprinted across the court, jumping over the net and sliding to the ground on his knees. Y/N remained back a little bit, feeling as if she was watching outside her body, watching Art gently hold Tashis head off the ground as she cried and the medics checked her leg.

He helped them get her down into the medical office while Y/N followed just behind, Patrick still nowhere to be seen.

—

The room was cold, the walls brick and the AC cranked on its highest setting.

Art sat next to the examination table where Tashi sat with a towel rolled up under her knee, arms folded over her face. Y/N stood with her back against the wall a bit behind Art, silently fiddling with her phone.

Footsteps sounded down the hall, getting closer. Patrick walked just past the room, backtracking to stand in the doorway, his eyes kind of red but Y/N can’t tell if its from crying or weed. “I’m sorry-”

“Out.” Tashi interrupts him.

“Tashi…”

“OUT!”

“Listen–”

“OUT! OUT! OUT!” Tashi yelled

Patrick kind of just stood there for a few seconds…

“Patrick. Get the fuck out of here!” Art yelled at him, standing up. 

The room fell silent again, Patrick and Art staring at each other, Tashi staring at the roof and Y/N standing against the wall, watching her brother's friendship deteriorate. Patrick left a second later, not sparing Y/N a glance, probably not even noticing she was there.

—

part two is out, yay, its kinda really trash but Nyla is here now, yippee, good times ahead. well, for Y/N. not Art, Tashi and Patrick lol.

I'm actually really proud of this, it's over 1000 words which I think is pretty good.