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aviawrites · 5 months

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when we were teenagers (challengers)

pairings/relationships: tashi duncan x sister!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: Tashi Duncan’s younger sister, Ava Duncan, never gets a chance to be seen past her sister’s shadow. When Ava gets injured and Tashi starts gaining fame, the two become more and more at odds with each other. Tashi juggles Art and Patrick while Ava struggles to keep up. When over a decade passes and a peace isn’t reached, either the Donaldsons or Zweigs, either Tashi or Ava, has to come out on top. (7.2k)

a/n: you know the movie was good when you have to rewatch so you have all the info for the fic🥴 with that being said, the dates and stuff may be a little off but i did my best with what wikipedia had to offer. regardless, im a patrick zweig stan 4L. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: description of injury, allusions to sex/almost a smut scene, swearing

in this story, yn is: Ava Duncan

March 16, 2006 //📍home, 9:35pm

The goofy grin on the brunette’s face and the blond’s childish giggle replays over and over in your head. Your mother’s muffled snores mix with Art’s laughs as a smile grows on your face, your eyes closed.

You’ve found yourself in this position too many times, imagining what could’ve been if the cute guys were eyeing you rather than your sister. But you’ve experienced it enough times to not even be hurt by it anymore. No guys approach you at volleyball events, especially not hot ones. So if anything, you find some comfort in lying upside down on the corduroy couch making up scenarios in your head.

The click of the front door forces your eyes open, sitting upright and perking up like a dog as your sister tip toes through the door.

“So…” You rest your chin on your fist, “Which one was it?”

“Shh,” Tashi smiles, pointing to your mom’s closed door. “Which one was what?”

“Come on,” You continue as she stands in front of you, “Which one did you…Y’know.”

“Oh my- Neither of them, Ava.”

“What!?”

“Shh!”

You lower your tone, “Seriously? You were alone with them both and didn’t make a move?”

“It wasn’t like that.” She laughs, “They’re like…I dunno, they’re weird.”

You scrunch your face up, “What, are they gay?”

She pauses, cocking her head.

“They’re actually gay?”

“No, no they’re not.” She giggles, “I just didn’t do anything with them. I mean we kissed but that’s it.”

“Did you kiss the blond?” You interrogate, “I really like the blond…”

“His name is Art and I kissed them both.” She smirks.

You roll your eyes, “Whatever.”

Tashi laughs at you, plopping next to you on the couch and resting her legs across yours.

“They did ask for my number again.”

“What’d you tell them?” You stroke her leg.

“I said whoever wins the match tomorrow gets it.”

“God, I wish.” You sigh, throwing your head back. “I’d kill to see Art just one more time…”

———

May 15th, 2006 //📍home, 6:00pm

You wince as your mom tightens the brace, covering your face in frustration.

“It’s okay, baby.” She kisses your head, “You tell me if you need anything, okay?”

You nod as she presses one more kiss onto your hair before walking out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Almost every athlete you know has been injured before, half of the girls on your team are covered in braces and tape all season. A torn ACL seems more like a right of passage than a serious and life changing injury. But when you heard the pop and felt the ligament rip, it was almost immediate; The realization that you very well may never play again. You’re not sure if yours was worse than others or if you’re just weaker, but the trauma of the blistering pain has turned you away from getting back on the court for the last month.

You already can tell who’s on the other side of the door from the lack of a knock. You internally sigh, wanting to be left alone, as Tashi sits at the foot of your bed.

“Hey, I was thinking we could go to the courts today. I could practice with you.”

“Tashi…”

“I know you haven’t been wanting to go but since you just hit a month I was thinking, you know, maybe you’d want to start working again.”

You shake your head, “Tashi, I don’t think I’m ready.”

“When will you be?” She asks, her voice stern.

You stare at her, “I don’t know, Tashi. Why?”

“I’m just saying Ava, it’s not good to stop for this long. Some people never get back out there and you have to at least try.”

“I am trying.” You raise your voice, “My insides tore apart. Sorry if I’m not eager to put pressure on myself again.”

“There’s no pressure I’m just asking you to get up and at least walk on a court again.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m fucking scared, Tashi!” You shout, tears falling from your eyes. “I’m fucking scared of it happening again! I am not ready!”

She stares at you, a look that you can only describe as disgust on her face.

“…You don’t even want to drive out there just to see-“

“Get out.” You cover your eyes, a headache creeping up on you.

“Ava, I’m not going to let you waste away in here-“

“Get out of my room or I’m calling mom.” You stare back at her, “Go.”

She stands, giving you one last look of disapproval before leaving, slighting slamming your door behind her.

———

September 18th, 2006 //📍Stanford Tennis Courts, 5:00pm

“Passing…Down the line…Cross…”

Tashi’s grunts echo throughout the court as you throw shots at her, a pile of green tennis balls forming behind you. It took a few weeks but she got you back on the court, just not the volleyball courts. You’ve watched Tashi’s practices long enough to know the game, so when you reluctantly offered to help her train, she jumped at the opportunity.

You zone out, robotically tossing the balls as Tashi dashes across the court. You silently hope for a specific someone show up. Patrick Zweig had your sister in his phone and occasionally in his bed, but Art Donaldson was a free man. The only Duncan in his phone was Ava, an achievement that you pride yourself on even weeks later.

Sure, the two of you aren’t a thing, not the way Tashi and Patrick are. But you’re happy to be anything with Art, so the talking stage that you seem to be stuck in doesn’t bother you at all. You can only pray that it’ll blossom into something. Something meaning you being Ava Donaldson in the near future.

As if you summoned him, a very familiar blond boy opens the wire door, locking eyes with you. Your heart skips a beat when he waves at you, your hand immediately dropping the ball and waving back.

Your sister turns around to see Art, a smile growing on her face as she walks over to him. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug as you watch. They barely pull away before Tashi begins chatting, her face too close to his for your liking.

Across the court, they’re too far for you to hear their conversation. But judging from Art’s hand draped over her waist and her arm resting on his shoulder, you see enough to be angry. You can only look down, waiting for the conversation, along with your humiliation, to end.

After an abundance of giggles, Art turns and walks away, giving you another wave.

“I’ll see you.” He smiles.

You purse your lips, terribly embarrassed as you nod, “Yeah. Good seeing you, Art.”

The door shuts and with it, your smile drops. Tashi gets back into position like nothing happened, waiting with her racquet. Playing along, you throw her the ball. Only, you don’t call the drill. You throw with a little more force and much more unpredictability as the anger in you rises.

“Ava…” Tashi calls, frantically chasing the ball.

It’s only when the ball flies past her head, barely missing her, that she stops.

“Ava, what the fuck!?”

She walks toward you, meeting you at the net.

She shrugs, “What’s up, what’s going on?”

“Are you serious?”

She only looks at you, confused.

“Tashi, come on. You were literally all over him.”

“Wh- Art?” She deciphers, “Oh, Ava my bad I didn’t mean- I really didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, sure you didn’t.”

“Seriously, I didn’t. He’s my friend I was just saying hey.”

“Saying hey with your arms around each other? That’s bullshit, just say you still like him.” You look down, mumbling. “It’s fine, it’s just annoying that you go after every guy I like knowing they’ll choose you.”

“Hey…” Tashi softens her tone, stepping over the net and nearing you. “Ava.”

“What?” You look at the ground.

“I didn’t mean it like that…” She insists, “I’m just stressed with school and stuff, he’s the only one who gets it.”

“Right.” You roll your eyes, not in the mood for ‘I’m stressed,’ to be the excuse for going after your guy. “It’s not like I go to school too or anything.”

“No, I know you do. It’s just…Stanford’s different, you know?”

“Whatever.”

“Ava,” She lifts your chin to look at her, “I’m sorry, okay?”

The two of you ogle at each other as she waits for an answer. She always does this, almost forces you into accepting her apology which you do not.

“We good?” She asks.

“…Yeah, sure.” You shrug, pulling away from her, “It’s whatever.”

Tashi just looks at you once more, seemingly satisfied as she steps back over the net. She gets back into position as you pick up another ball, a look still on your face.

“Down the line.”

———

December 21st, 2006 //📍Stanford Dining Hall, 12:00pm

“How many?” The employee asks.

“Umm, can I have three?” You lean on the counter, “Or four, actually.”

She reaches under the counter before handing you four mayo packets.

“Thanks.”

You start the walk back toward the table, Patrick having picked the one in the far back. He clearly hasn’t returned from the bathroom as you see Art and Tashi still sitting alone. As you near them, you catch a glimpse of their conversation.

“Don’t you think you deserve it?” Art asks, his eyes so focused on your sister that he doesn’t see you walking up. “I mean, who wouldn’t be in love with you?”

Tashi doesn’t respond, only angrily stands and walks away, nearly knocking you over. She passes you, smoke practically coming out of her ears. You watch her go before sitting where she was, handing Art the packets.

“Thanks.” He smiles, “Patrick still in there?”

“I guess so.” You laugh, insecurity lacing your voice as you simultaneously try to decode the conversation they were having.

“I’m so not surprised.” He takes the bun off of his burger and tears open the white packet with his teeth.

You watch him, hesitant to speak. Though, your words spill out before you can stop them.

“Do you ever wish Patrick let you win the match?” You ask.

Art looks up at you, mid squeeze. He cracks an unsure smile.

“What kind of question is that?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” You do the same, tragically self conscious. “Maybe you wonder what it’d be like to date my sister or something. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You look down, fiddling with your fingers.

Art pauses, putting his burger down and placing his hands on yours.

“Hey,” He grabs your attention, “I’m here with you today.

You smile, “No, I know. It’s just…She’s like better than me in every way so I wouldn’t blame you.” You chuckle.

“What? I don’t think so, I think you’re great.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get in to Stanford. Nor do I win all of the tennis tournament or-“

“Ava,” Art stops you, shaking your head. “You’re just as good as Tashi.”

Your eyes tread on each other as you try your hardest to believe him. But you do realize that this is the exact same way he looked at Tashi on the courts.

The two of you are snapped out of it as Patrick returns, taking his seat next to Art.

“Sorry, they had like no toilet paper.”

“Oh good, thanks for letting us all know you took a shit, bud.”

“Whatever. Ava doesn’t give a shit, right?”

“No,” You laugh, “You’re all good, Pat.”

———

📍Tashi’s dorm, 2:00pm

“So if he’s seeing other girls I won’t even fucking know now.” Tashi vents, stretching for her match.

You scroll on your phone, sitting at her desk. “It sounds like he was just trying to be nice, Tash. He was trying to help you out-“

“No, he’s not nice. Nothing about them is nice, Ava. They’re fucking weirdos, both of them. Art just hides behind this persona that he’s so caring and team Duncan when really he wants the same thing from me as Patrick.”

‘He wants the same thing from me.’

You sigh, tired of hearing the same things and watching her run back to them minutes later.

“Then stop complaining and fucking leave him already.”

Tashi stops in her lunge, “What?”

“You keep complaining about them.” You grunt, “If you really didn’t want the attention you’d just drop them both.”

“If I didn’t want the attention?”

“Yes.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You say, irritated.

“Ava…” She stands up, looking down at you. You continue scrolling until your phone is snatched from you. “Hey.”

“What the-“

“Do you have something to say to me?”

“Give me my phone back.” You stand up, reaching for it.

“No, say what you mean.”

“Really?” You grab for your phone once more but she pulls it away from you like a child, “Fuck - Okay, Tashi, all you talk about is how hard your life is. How hard training is for a tournament that you know you're going to win. How hard it is dating a famous and touring athlete. How hard it is being friends with the nicest guy who only wants to help you. How fucking hard it is to have two guys fighting over you. How hard it is to go to an ivy league. How hard it is to live the fucking dream. How about you actually do something about it instead of rubbing it in our faces that you're above us and can play with two guys at once because you're so fucking amazing?"

The two of you stand nose to nose, a stance Tashi used to always initiate in order to intimidate you.

“How long have you felt this way?” She asks, her breath shaking.

“Ever since you became the Tashi Duncan and I was left in the dust. Now give me my phone.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ava? You think I asked for this?”

“Asked for what? A great life where you succeed in fucking everything? No, Tashi, you didn't have to ask for it. We worked so fucking hard and only you survived it. I succumbed to my fate, I quit my dream, I went to a shitty college, had shitty friends, watched shitty games, and watched the boys I liked fight for my sister. But no; Please, continue bitching about your hard situation."

You snatch your phone from her hands, walking toward the door. "Good luck at your fucking match."

———

2:45pm

You barely look up as you exit the library, occupied with connecting your earbuds to your phone. It’s only when you see a familiar black head of hair sitting in the common area that you stop.

“Patrick?”

He looks back, taking his feet off of the Stanford branded coffee table.

“Oh, hey Ava.” He makes space for you to sit beside him on the small loveseat. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good, um…” You put your stuff on the floor and sit next to him, “Why aren’t you at the tournament?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiles that same crooked smile from the night you met him.

You curl your legs up, leaving your arm on the back of the seat. “Did y’all fight too?”

Patrick leans back, looking over at you. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.” He laughs.

“What was yours about?” You pry, smiling.

“Uh,” He rubs his eye, “Just…not letting her control me. I’m my own boss kind of shit.”

“Seriously?”

“…Yeah, why?”

“That’s what our fight was about too!” You burst into giggles, “Well, not her controlling me but her controlling you. And Art, him too.”

“Shit, Art too?”

“Yeah, I mean, especially Art. You’re the only one who stands up to her bullshit.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “I don’t know, you seem to put up a good fight.”

“Yeah, but I’m her sister. It’s takes a brave man to break free of Tashi Duncan.”

“Oh god, did I break free?”

“You definitely broke free.” The two of you laugh.

“No but I see what you’re saying, she definitely had me whipped.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I remember one time,” He turns toward you, getting comfy, “The first time her and I, um…”

“Oh, Jesus.” You cover your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He laughs, “But the first time we did, I remember she said she’d leave me if I told anyone. And I was head over heels, so of course I didn’t want to tell, right?”

“Right.”

“But Art’s my guy, y’know? So instead of being straight up and jeopardizing Tashi’s love, we made this stupid ass signal.” He tells in between laughs, “The way that Art serves - Like, you know how he puts the ball at the neck of his racquet?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You listen intently.

“Well, if I served that way, that meant yes, we did sleep together, And if I served my way, it meant we didn’t.”

“…And?”

“Well, I put that motherfucker right in the middle.”

“Oh my-“

You and Patrick erupt into laughs, covering your mouths as the librarian eyes the two of you. Your stomach starts to ache, not being able to remember the last time you had this kind of belly laugh.

“Well, cheers to breaking free of her.” You put your fist up.

“Oh hell yeah, cheers to that.” He bumps it.

———

3:05pm

The crowd outside thins out as you and Patrick head down the back halls and toward the parking lot. In true honor of breaking free, the two of you decided to not say goodbye. Instead, you’d go home without saying a word to your sister.

You’re a few doors down from the exit when Patrick stops in his tracks, looking into the nurses office.

“Tashi…” He walks in.

You enter the doorway, peeking in behind him. Inside, you see Tashi sitting on the table, Art by her side.

“No, out.” Your sister points.

“I’m sorry-“

“Get out!”

“Tashi, listen to me-“

“No, get out!”

“Please-“

“Patrick, get the fuck out!” Art shouts, standing.

Patrick stays for a moment, taken aback as he looks from Tashi to Art. If he has the same vision as you, it’s clear that it’s them against him. It’s no longer Patrick and Tashi, but Art and Tashi.

He looks back at you before obeying, walking down the hallway.

Now alone, you come into full view, nearing your sister.

“Tash, what happened-“

“You too.”

You stop, tilting your head. “What?”

“I don’t want you here, leave.”

“Wh- Are you serious?”

“Ava, I think you should just go.” Art says lowly, wary to step in between you too.

You ignore him, “Tashi, I’m your sister.”

You get no answer, she only looks forward. You look at Art as he stands over her like some bodyguard.

Just as Patrick did, you back away, realizing what this is. You frantically look between the two as you wait for Tashi to change her mind, to see that regardless of what fight you had you’re still sisters. Though, it’s clear that doesn’t mean anything to her, it’s been clear for a while now.

Now, it’s only Art and Tashi.

———

10:03pm

“Coming in from Stanford; Student and highly lauded tennis player, Tashi Duncan, took a hard hit at her match against Pepperdine this afternoon. Sources say a hard fracture to the knee has Tashi in the care of medical professionals. It is unknown if she’ll ever be able to play again.”

The blinding fluorescent lights of the cheap fast food place burn your eyes as you and Patrick look up at the TV.

You bury your head in your hands, groaning.

“Fuck.”

“She probably thinks she’ll never be able to play again.”

“Please, please don’t say that, Patrick. I’ll feel so guilty.”

“Ava, there’s nothing we could’ve done.”

“We could’ve at least showed up.” You rub a hand over your head.

“Hey,” He forces you to look at him, “None of this is our fault, okay? Injured or not, she still treated us like shit. Art only gets to stay by her side because he’s whipped.”

“I just…” You sigh, “I just wish I had been there.”

The two of you stand up, leaving the restaurant. Outside, a huge Adidas billboard with your sister’s face on it dominates the sky.

The two of you get into Patrick’s car, him cranking it up and turning down the radio.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.” He nods, looking at you.

“Like…” You think, “Your tour.”

“Oh, God.”

You laugh, “When are you set to go back?”

“Uh, next week I’m pretty sure. But if I’m being honest, I don’t even want to go. I’ve been getting my ass kicked out there.”

“Patrick, Tashi would lose it if she heard you say that.”

He leans in, resting his arms on the center console as he examines your face. “Let’s not talk about Tashi…”

“Okay,” You hold the intense eye contact that he began, “What do you want to talk about?”

His nose is almost touching yours as you unconsciously near him, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips.

“Let’s talk about you.” He grins, rubbing your waist.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me what you like.” He says, lowering his lips to your neck and softly pressing.

“I, um,” You tilt, holding the back of his head as he gets sloppier, “I loved volleyball. My team was out of California but we travelled for tournaments. We ranked…fuck…we ranked second in the country-“

Patrick cuts you off, his lips ravaging yours as he runs his hands over you. You can’t stop yourself from leaning into him, crawling over to sit on his lap. Both of your hands get more and more heavy as he pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it in the backseat.

“Fuck,” You say in between kisses, “Fuck, wait.”

“What?” He looks up at you, “What, is something wrong?”

“Is this wrong to do?” You ask, out of breath. “Should we stop? What about Tashi and Art?”

“They yelled at us to leave when we tried to help.” He reminds you, “Why should we stop when they treated us like that?”

You look at him, convincing yourself that you’re considering it when all you want to feel is your mouth on his.

And you do, pushing the thoughts of Tashi and Art far from your mind.

———

February 15th, 2011 // 📍Zweig condo, 9:30am

5 years later

At one point in your life, it would take you multiple seconds to figure out how to say the dollar amount that you and your husband had in your bank account. Now, as the number almost falls short of five figures, you feel ashamed just looking at it.

You switch tabs on the laptop, the light from the ceiling to floor window behind it hurting your eyes. Scrolling through tournament options, the distances only get further and the prize money higher. Years ago, you and Patrick wouldn’t even consider the amount, as Patrick just wanted to play tennis; And that still holds true, only you’ve been stuck in your ways for so long that he’s forgotten how to play to win.

Nails scratch the hardwood behind you as your golden doodle, Bear, comes barreling down the hall. Right behind him is your husband, chasing the dog around the living room.

“I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha!” He says, the dog running desperately from him.

You chuckle, “Good morning.”

You hear Patrick give Bear a smooch before walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Good morning, baby.” He kisses your neck, looking at the screen. “Found anything good?”

“Not really,” You groan, frustrated. “I don’t know when these matches got so fucking far.”

“It’s okay,” He strokes your head, “I’m sure there’s one we can make it to.”

You continue scrolling, the qualifier maximum getting smaller and smaller.

“What about this one?” He points.

“Atlanta? Patrick, that’s on the other side of the country.”

“I know, I know. But we can make the trip, no? I hear some of our friends may be there.”

You turn your head, furrowing your brows at him. A sly smile plasters over his face, one that makes you realize all too quickly.

“They’re going to be there?”

He nods.

“God, why would you want to be anywhere near them?”

“We probably won’t even see them, baby. But if they’re there we’ll have a big crowd.”

You think on it, the thought of seeing Tashi making your stomach turn in knots.

“…And look at that winner’s reward money.” He says convincingly.

A sigh escapes you before clicking submit, Patrick’s entry automatically being sent.

“Mm,” He kisses your wedding ring finger, “Thank you, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You jokingly roll your eyes, pecking him on the cheek.

——

February 24th, 2011 //📍Atlanta, 7:40pm

Nausea consumes you as Patrick’s smell fills your senses. The aroma of the city is one thing, the aroma of your husband another, but the scent of your sister’s old perfume radiates off of him like a cancer.

You watch as he sets his coat down, coming behind the couch to kiss you.

“Did you-“ You pull your face away, not able to let him touch you, “Did you see anyone we know?”

Patrick is taken aback, looking at you with a confused smile.

“No…Why?”

His eyes bore into yours as you search for any answer than the one you’re imagining. Though, as he hands you the chinese takeout bag and takes a seat next to you, you find yourself voiding the conclusion entirely; Your mind not willing to believe the man you love would be meeting her.

He wraps his arms around you, watching the TV. As the smell seems to corrupt every sense you have, a tear sneaks into your cheek, the possibility still piercing your gut. Even so, you wrap your arms back around him.

As of this moment, the comfort of hiding in his arms trumps the possibilities of the truth.

——

June 3rd, 2013 // 📍Zweig Condo, 3:00pm

2 Years Later

‘Hey, I know it’s been a while. But if you’re willing, I’d love to come out and see you and the baby. - A ♡’

The ‘Read’ under your message seems to taunt you the longer you stare. Your phone screen is interrupted by a call, ‘Mom,’ at the top of the screen. You answer.

A small gasp escapes you as you’re immediately met with the smallest human you’ve ever seen. You’d know she was Tashi’s in a sea of babies. You wave your husband over, eyes staying on the baby.

“Oh my goodness.” You whisper, “Hi, baby.”

Her eyes stay closed, her hands in small fists.

“Oh, Ava, she’s so beautiful.” Your mom lowly says down the phone.

“Is…” You wipe away a stray tear, “Is Tashi okay?”

The camera flips from the baby to your mother.

“You know you could always ask her yourself, honey.”

“No, I know. But- Just tell them we said congratulations. She’s precious.”

Your mom lets out a sigh as she looks from you to behind the camera.

“Mom, who is that?” You hear your sister’s voice in the background.

Your hands turn clammy, your heart beating faster and faster as she begins to turn the phone to Tashi.

“Um, Mom we gotta go, we’re breaking up. I love you-“

“Wait, Ava-“

“Love you, mom.” You spit out, hanging up and turning your phone face down.

You stare out for a minute, shocked at your body’s response to your sister’s voice. Sobs escape your mouth before you can stop them. You shove your face in your hands.

“Oh, baby.” Patrick holds you, rubbing your back.

“It’s been too long.” You cry, “She fucking hates me.”

“You don’t know that.” He reassures you, “She may come around. You did good.”

———

May 1st, 2019 // 📍New Rochelle, 10:00am

6 Years later

Making it to New York from home took up the rest of Patrick’s savings. The house that you downsized to is completely funded by you and your remote sales salary. Patrick continues to fight a losing battle with tennis, barely able to pay for food for himself every week. Straining your marriage was the last consequence of his money struggles. Though, it has the biggest impact on your day to day. Nonetheless, you remain by his side. In all honesty, you’re not completely sure how to continue anywhere else.

“I’m going to see Art today.” Patrick tells you, downing a handful of trail mix.

“Art?” You ask, holding Bear’s paws on your

thighs, “Why would you do that? It’s been years.”

“I think it’s been long enough, we’re already here.” He shrugs, “I think it might be good for me.”

You focus on Bear, still not seeing a clear reason as to why he’d want to speak to Art after a decade.

“Maybe you should go see Tashi.”

Your eyes snap to him, her name barely being spoken in your house for the last six years.

“…And do what?”

He shrugs, “Might be good for you…”

…

1:00pm

Your stomach seems to twist in a thousand ways as you continuously fix your hair and outfit on the way into the far too fancy hotel. As you pass the lobby, you almost turn around and throw up. But as your sister heads for the elevator, you know this is your one chance to speak to her.

Your shoes thump against the marble floor as you jog after her.

“T- Tashi!” You whisper shout, reaching her just in time.

She turns around. Taking one look at you, she looks to your left and right, utterly confused.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, tone laced with disgust.

It’s been so long. She looks so different, her voice has such a maturity to it. But that dominating energy that she brings everywhere hasn’t changed a bit.

“Well I…” You fumble, all of your practice going out the window. “ I heard you were here, I wanted to say hello.”

“Say hello?” She looks you up and down, turning her full attention to you as she steps forward. “Honestly, I don’t want your fucking hello, Ava. Really, I don’t.”

You shake your head, “Tashi-“

"I can't believe you have the balls to be here. After what you fucking did to me."

"What I-“ You compose yourself, remembering exactly how arguments with your sister always go. “Tashi, what the fuck did I do to you?"

"Are you serious?" She asks, "You're joking, yes?"

"No, I'm really not."

"You left me for 13 years by my fucking self." She raises her voice, "I had a wedding, I had a baby, and where were you? My sister was too stuck on a grudge to ever come back into my life, you're a waste of my fucking time." She begins to walk away.

“Hey.” You follow her, grabbing her arm and spinning her back around.

“Get off.”

"Not one of those events was I invited to, Tash. Not one. If you wanted me back, if you gave a shit, you would've acted like it. But you're not going to sit here and act like I was in the wrong and I should've reached out to you. Hell, I did fucking reach out to you.”

“In the wrong?” She snatches her arm from you. “Ava, are you clinically fucking stupid? You're hung up on a situation from 13 years ago-"

"No, but it's not from 13 years ago, Tashi.” You cut her off, getting in her face. “Because you're doing the same thing right now that you did when you were 18. You're sitting here blaming the world for your life decisions. You're blaming me for being angry that you were and are a narcissist who wants someone else to be the athlete that you never were. Every time I thought of coming back l'd imagine what my sister would say and I couldn't do it. But guess what Tashi, now I see through you. I fucking see it, Patrick sees it, and when Art finally opens his eyes you'll finally see yourself for what you are."

She stares at you, a chuckle escaping her. "Ava, this is pathetic. Genuinely. Because at the end of the day, it's not my fucking fault that you gave up. Now l'm in a position where I don't have to be here. I have a life, a pretty fucking good one, outside of this. Outside of you. This Final, it's practice. It's fucking child's play for us, whereas for the Zweigs...This is it for you. Your last fucking loss.”

“Yeah. Okay Tash.” You roll your eyes, "Keep throwing insults at me to distract from the fact that you're a shitty person."

"I'm a shitty pers- You fucking abandoned your family for 13 fucking years!"

"Because my sister is an insufferable egomaniac who can't accept the fact that her husband doesn't want to do this shit anymore and her tennis life is over!” You shout back, your voices echoing throughout the hotel. “It's fucking over Tashi, give it up. That's why I left you, because you're fucking dreadful! You're dreadful and everyone knows it."

Tashi slowly nods, the hotel staff looking at the two of you.

"...Ava, do you know what your husband does late at night?"

Your eyes widen, your heart skipping a beat as she addresses the unspoken.

"Fuck you." You spit.

"I'm really asking, because from what I experienced...You're a lucky woman."

Now you’re the one with disgust in your eyes, the urge to spit in her face stronger than ever before.

“…Say hi to mom for me, Tashi." You say, your hands balling into fists.

“Happy to.” She utters, walking toward the elevator. “Tell Patrick I’m wishing him good luck.”

…

3:00pm

You only tell your husband bits a pieces of your encounter, not daring to remind him of the man he was in Atlanta.

“I don’t even know why I tried.”

“Both of them are assholes.” He agrees, “At least now we’re sure of it.”

“I guess.” You bite your nails, stroking Bear’s ears. “Patrick you have to beat him in the Final. We can’t let them win.”

“I know, baby.” He nods, on your wavelength. “I know.”

——

May 4th, 2019 // Night Before the Final, 11:25pm

“Pat, it’s really coming down out there.” You look out of the hotel window, tarps flying into the street. “What if they cancel the match?”

“They’d never do that.” He watches the TV, “It should lighten up by morning.”

You hum, snuggling next to him as the bright screen flashes through an action sequence. Patrick’s phone vibrates, his phone brightness lighting the rest of the room.

“Oh, baby.” He shifts his body, making you sit up. “I gotta go.”

“Now? Why?” You try to look on his phone but he pulls it away, scrolling.

“I have to, um,” He rubs his head, looking stressed. “My racquet, I have to pick it up.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“They just messaged reminding me that we have to have this certain racquet to compete tomorrow.” He stands up, rushing toward the door.

“What- Patrick,” You follow him, “It’s like a fucking flash flood out there, can you not do this tomorrow?”

“Baby, they close at midnight, I gotta go,” He kisses you, “I love you.”

“Patrick, wait-“

“I love you, I have to go!” He shuts the door behind him.

…

12:30am

You have a strange urge to cry as you scroll through Art Donaldson’s instagram. Photos of him and his seemingly perfect family are plastered all over, an ‘@Tashidonaldson ♡’ at the top of his bio.

Patrick never wanted kids, said they’d cost too much and you couldn’t care for them. He was correct about the former, but care for children, you are willing and able to do. But when you married him, he did a lot of the decision making for you.

Now, as he’s blown all of your savings, lost his tennis touch, and been out of the damn hotel room for an hour doing god knows what , you wish you could shout at past you to get a grip.

Though, looking at these picture now, you wish you could do the same to past Art Donaldson too.

———

May 5th, 2019 // 📍New Rochelle Courts, 1:00pm

Final Day

The crowd’s heads robotically turned side to side as Art and Patrick dog it out in a vicious match. You sit in your assigned seat next to your sister, the endless stream of slander not ceasing, not even today.

“Is he retiring after this?” You ask, your head still going between the men.

Tashi shrugs, her expression hidden behind her sunglasses. “Maybe.”

"...I don't think Patrick will ever retire. I think tennis is all he has."

She hums, "If only he'd start winning his matches."

"He doesn't always play for the wins, Tashi."

"Yeah, he plays for the participation money."

"Maybe he does." You say, "At least he does it by choice."

She looks to you, her attention no longer on her husband’s tie breaker. "Art does it by choice."

“Like hell he does.” You scoff, “He wouldn't be retiring after becoming a Career Grand Slam if he wanted to be doing this.”

“Art is an adult, he does what he wants.” She looks back to the court.

“Art is your slave, he does what you want.”

Tashi continues trying to get to you. As Patrick sets for his next serve, he looks in your direction. Only, he isn’t looking at you, he’s looking at your sister. He returns his gaze to Art, placing his ball in the neck of his racquet.

Both you and Art freeze, staring at your husband. The men seem to be in their own world, but Patrick must’ve forgotten that you know too. The word seems to muffle around you as you stare at your husband’s evil grin at Art.

You stand on shaky legs, grasping your stomach as bile threatens to come up.

“Hey…” Tashi calls after you, “Ava, what the fuck are you doing?”

You run to the nearest exit, Patrick’s blatant disrespect and repulsiveness making you want to genuinely die where you stand.

It’s only as you stumble to your car that it truly hits you who the man you married really is, and how he really sees you.

Like everyone else, he thinks you’re a pawn in Tashi’s game. A piece that can be battered and bruised but will never go away, as it’s crucial to the game of Tashi. You want to vomit as you sit in your car, Patrick’s scent sending you into a violent sick.

———

May 14th, 2019 // 📍Zweig home, 12:00pm

9 Days Later

Three knocks at the door echo through your almost empty house. You pause your show, unlatching the chain and opening it.

Patrick stands in front of you, a hysterical attempt of a sad expression on his face.

“Everything’s here.” You walk him in, pointing to the boxes full of his stuff in the kitchen. “The only things that aren’t are your racquets, trophies, cups, stuff like that. Those are in the closet so they wouldn’t get mixed up.”

“Thanks.” He says, feeling like an alien in this house.

“Yeah.” You give him a thumbs up, returning to the couch next to Bear.

He spends an hour loudly moving his things from the kitchen to his car, the sound almost drowning out your show. Regardless, you stay put, wanting him to be done as fast as he can.

“Ava…” He calls over the reality TV. You ignore him, popping another veggie straw into your mouth.

Suddenly, his arm comes from behind you, grabbing the remote and muting it.

“Hey.” You turn around.

“I’m talking to you.”

“Okay, well I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Ava, I’m sorry-“

“Pat,” You chuckle, not being able to keep it in. “Don’t even.”

“Baby, listen to me, okay? I fucked up-“

“Patrick, Patrick!” You stand up, “Just stop, okay? Leave me be, finish getting your shit, and I’ll have the papers served to you by the end of the week.”

“Baby, no. Please.”

“Honey, there’s nothing you can say.” You shake your head, having prepared for his begging days ago. “Go beg to your mistress, yeah?”

He continues rambling, stumbling over his words. “Ava, it was such a bad mistake. I told myself it was strategy and- And because me and her have a complicated past I couldn’t see straight-“

“But nothing about us is complicated, right? We are married, we’re supposed to be a team. But you betrayed me, plain and simple.” You lay it out for him, “You’re a cheater and we’re done, now go.”

“It was a mistake-“

“Patrick…” You inhale, “I’m trying not to lose it, you need to get the fuck out.”

“Just hear me out-“

“Get out of the house, Patrick.”

“We can come back from this, Ava. We can.”

Your jaw hangs agape in genuine disbelief. He seems to notice he fucked up again as he stops speaking. You walk around the couch, getting in his face the same way Tashi used to get in yours.

“Patrick,” You begin, “I gave everything for you. I gave up my life, I gave up my family, I gave up Art, I left it all for you. I abandoned so much to be in your corner because I was in love with you, I really was. Whether you felt the same about me, I’ll never actually know-“

“I loved you, baby. I still love you-“

“But I thought you were the one who understood me, Patrick. But somehow every time I gave you a chance to correct yourself you threw it away to be with Tashi. Over and over. She’s constantly being picked over me, her feelings over mine, her body over mine, her opinion over mine…You’re just another one of her fans. You’re just like Art- Honestly, you’re fucking worse. At least he pretended to like me all those years ago. Now, as my husband, you just don’t give a shit. Just publicly showing that you slept with my sister.”

“…Why do you keep bringing up Art?” He looks down at you, “Do you- Do you feel something for him still?”

“Oh my fucking-“ You cover your face, composing yourself once again before continuing. “Pat, it’s been a long, long time since this all started. And if I could go back I’d change many things. But at the end of it all, I’m here because I worked for it and I endured it. You and Art can stay stuck under Tashi’s finger, that’s fine. But I know that life is bigger than that. Bigger than this weird threesome love triangle shit that you circle back to every few years. I am a grown woman who is in control of her own life so if you don’t have anymore comments, you need to get out and sign the papers when they’re served to you, Patrick.”

“…Baby, please,” He cries, his lip quivering. “You love me, we love each other. Please just think about it.”

You tilt your head, “Do you want me to be honest?”

Patrick nods, hiccuping on his tears.

“…All of this is really really beneath me.” You quietly tell him.

He lowers his head, his hands covering his eyes.

“When I was 18 I might have been broken over stuff like this but…” You shrug, “Things are very very different from when we were teenagers.”

#challengers #challengers fic #challengers imagine #challengers fanfic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson fic #patrick zweig fic #art donaldson challengers #patrick zweig challengers #challengers film #tashi duncan fic

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softspiderling · 7 months

Text

and I wish you wouldn't wait for me, but you always do | r.c.

summary:

“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Really. Just friends.”

“Huh.”

OR, everyone thinks Rafe refuses to commit to a relationship, even though you're the one with cold feet.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 1,5k

warnings: MDNI, mention of sex, but nothing too graphic

author's note: i just wanted to write a short drabble but it just kept going and i'm not sorry. hope you like it, make sure to leave a comment/reblog if you do, i always appreciate it and ily

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You hate hate hate the word situationship.

It's dumb, and it glorifies uncertain terms in relationships and it never ends well.

Unfortunately, you can’t really find another term for the thing you have with Rafe. It’s more than a friends with benefits thing, but definitely not a relationship. Everyone always thinks it’s because of Rafe; that he doesn’t want to commit to a relationship, commit to one girl, and you always laugh it off when someone asks about it, never really denying it, letting them believe that it’s Rafe’s fault for the vague label of your… Thing. It’s easier to let them think what they want instead of admitting that you’re the reason.

You don’t know why you’re scared. Clearly you have some underlying trauma or maybe it was your first boyfriend who treated you shitty, but you just don’t want to call Rafe your boyfriend. Though honestly, to everyone else, it kind of seems like he is.

At every party, the two of you are attached at each other’s hip. Hands linked, pushing through the crowd, while Rafe looks over his shoulder every minute to make sure you’re still safely behind him. On the couch, Rafe is nursing a drink, listening to Topper yap about his new girlfriend, his arm slung around your shoulder while you talk to your friend. You get to a party together, you leave together.

“You know, I think it’s really cute that Rafe seems so protective over you,” Sofia says.

You glance over at her, having snuck outside for a smoke - Rafe doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes, which is ironic, really - and having bumped into the bartender, you two shared a cigarette.

“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Really. Just friends.”

“Huh.”

You pass the cigarette back to her, hoping it would prevent her from talking any more, and it works. She doesn’t bring it up again.

A couple of hours later, you’re sitting in Rafe’s truck as he drives home. Home, as in his house. His hand is on your thigh, and you’re nearly dozed off, when he speaks up.

“Sofia asked me if I wanted to grab a drink with her.”

That got your attention.

You look over at him, blinking in confusion.

“Sofia Flores?”

“One and only.”

Your first thought is, bitch! Your second thought is, why am I getting mad? You swallow the lump that is forming in your throat and you shrug with your shoulders, leaning back in your seat.

“Okay… Where are you going to take her?”

Rafe doesn’t answer, and for a second you think that he might not have heard you before he clears his throat. “I’ll probably take her to the country club.”

“Uh-huh.”

You glance at him for a split second, before turning away to stare out of the window, frowning deeply. There’s something you want to say, it’s on the tip of your tongue, but before you can gather the courage to say it, Rafe pulls his hand away, the moment dissipating, leaving you simmering in anger, fighting with your emotions.

Despite the tension between the two of you, you still spend the night at his place. You still moan out his name as he fucks you from behind, tugging on your hair the way you like it. He still flips you around when you’re close, his eyes searching yours when you finally come, and you still close your eyes. After he’s finished, going to the bathroom to find a towel to clean you off, Rafe wraps himself around your backside, leaving warm kisses on your neck.

“About tomorrow-” he starts, but you break him off.

“Take her to The Summit,” you say. “She works at the country club, it’s weird if you take her there.”

“… Okay.”

You don’t say anything else, pretending that you’ve fallen asleep but you lay there, awake for hours with Rafe next to you. You hate the idea of Rafe going out with Sofia. She’s pretty. And nice. You could see him falling in love with her and it honestly bothers you more than you’d like to admit. There’s moments you’re so close to turning to Rafe, to tell him something, but you always chicken out. Somewhere during your 20th try, you finally fall asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, you can tell that it’s past noon already, the sun already high on the horizon. The other side of the bed is empty, barely even warm anymore, which means Rafe must have been awake for a while now. Picking up a shirt of his that hangs over a chair, you traipse around to find your panties, tugging them on when Rafe walks into the bedroom, already dressed and ready to go.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say, distracted, running your hand through your hair. “Do you want to get breakfast?”

“Actually I just wanted to tell that I was about to leave to go pick up Sofia.”

“Already?” you ask, confused, staring at him.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to take her out on the boat.”

“Oh.”

Rafe looks at you. For a very long time. Daring you to say something, but you only look back at him, the lump in your throat returning. Neither of you says anything, so Rafe only nods, grabbing his keys from the dresser.

“You can hang out here if you want, eat something. Don’t know when I’ll be back though,” he said nonchalantly and you ball your hands into fists, not answering because you’re not quite sure if you can keep your voice even. Rafe walks towards the door, when you finally break out of your stupor.

“Rafe.”

He stops in his tracks, halfway out of the room, but he doesn’t look at you. Which honestly, makes all of this a little easier.

“Don’t go on that date.”

To your embarrassment, your voice cracks a little, but you clear your throat, playing it off. Rafe finally turns his head, his eyes finding yours and you manage to hold his gaze.

“Why?”

You roll your eyes with a scoff, having expected that he wouldn’t make it easy on you. Rafe is a proud man, and you… Hurt his pride. Unintentionally, but you did.

“You know why.”

“Say it,” Rafe demands, his forehead creasing. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

Something broke inside of you, hearing him say it like that, and you take a deep breath as you approach him slowly, your hands shaking as you reach out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“I’m sorry…” You say. “I hate this… I’m really bad at this feelings shit, but… Don’t go.”

You can tell that Rafe is not entirely convinced, and you know what he wants you to say. Something that you’ve been keeping so closely to your chest, that you never dared to say it out loud, or even think about it, but you know that if you don’t say it now, you might never get to change to say it ever again.

“I love you.”

Rafe’s hands find your waist and the frown on his forehead disappears. Finally. “Took you long enough,” he grunts, still a little upset and the lump in throat starts to get smaller.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, a hand coming up to the nape of your neck, tilting your face up so that you’d look at him.

“I get it.”

He leans down to kiss you, and you melt into him, kissing him back, following his directions as he moves you backwards to the bed. You fall backwards on the bed, and Rafe cages you in, but before he can go any further, you stop him, pushing at his chest.

“What?” he says, still leaning in to find your mouth.

“What about Sofia?”

“Fuck Sofia,” Rafe mutters, sucking a hickey on your neck but you swat at him.

“Rafe, no. That’s mean, the least you can do is cancel.”

Rafe groans, drawing back to pull his phone out of his pocket to text Sofia. He shows you the text, raising his brows.

“You happy now?”

“Very.”

He tosses his phone on the bed behind you, and gets back to business, nosing along your clavicle. His phone vibrates, but neither of you pay it any attention, too focused on each other.

Rafe: Sorry, I gotta cancel. Hope you don’t mind.

Sofia: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

Sofia: Hope you two figured it out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: if you thought "this bitch knows nothing about situationships and smoking" while reading this, you're right! hope it's still accurate.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #drew starkey #obx #outer banks

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clarity2electricboogaloo · 4 months

Text

Outsiders shit. Some modern some not idfk

These are all like. The most crack-filled hcs ever, please excuse my brain 🙏🏽🙏🏽 if these don’t make sense to you, tell me

- dally is so headstrong that the moment someone bets he can’t do something, he does it

- the gang takes advantage of this

- (this is a method I use on my younger siblings 😭😭)

- dally can walk in heels

- also two bit. Like scarily well. His sister is amazed.

- pony calls people whore

- Johnny calls people thot

- they say these to each other on a regular basis.

- also hoe

- uhhh where was I

- something something gay something something 70s 80s smth pony and Johnny because Johnny never died frfr no cap

- Johnny: “I can’t believe yall vape smh”

- also Johnny: *pulls out a cigarette for each hand*

- pony does the same thing

- twobit and Marcia are either gay-lesbian solidarity or they’re dating, no in between

- if they’re gay, they’re a beard couple just like “we pretend to date, they can’t catch on” “I like the way you think, woman”

- ily twobit matthews. That’s all.

- twobit and Marcia are actually both Hispanic, its canon trust I was there

- dally types “women ☕️” in instagram comment sections

- also “it’s bc I’m a man isn’t it”

- (ty V on discord for that second one 🙏🏽🙏🏽)

- cherry and dally argue on twitter

- a lot

- dally spams cherry and then she absolutely COOKS this pathetic rat man

- dally blocks cherry, doesn’t talk to her for a while, then eventually forgets and unblocks her to harass the poor girl again

- cherry doesn’t realize blocking is a thing, but she complains to marcia and marcia shows her how to block Dallas

- dally, two bit, and Steve are all hopelessly addicted to twitter

- like it’s really fucking bad

- someone get these mfs off the internet

- dally therapy

- now

- right fucking now

- cherry valance and ponyboy bisexual man/bisexual woman solidarity

- they are besties

- nothing more nothing less

- change my mind

- (you cant)

- marcia “good luck babe” by Chappell roan

- pony autism

- Johnny audhd

- Darry autism

- soda audhd or just adhd

- I saw someone say dally ocd once and I like it so

- dally ocd

- twobit adhd

- Steve adhd

- everyone trauma :D

- when johnny actually lived after the fire bc thats what actually happened actually fr, he left his parents because he realized they didn’t love him (pulling from the “I don’t wanna see her” scene for this)

- he stays with the curtis boys most of if not all the time

- if soda and Darry are gone, pony will grab Johnny and they’ll sleep together

- not in a weird way you freaks

- pony just genuinely cannot sleep

- I may or may not be influenced by fics I’ve read…

- soda saw them one night when he got home late and was like “…queers?”

- he stays out a bit later than usual now, often found sleeping in another room

- Darry actually supports more than pony thought, when he comes out, Darry is like a pride parade mom frfr

- kinda lowkey overbearing with it

- ily Darrel curtis

- soda is the typa guy to genuinely not understand lgbtq+ but supports anyways

- sodas the typa guy to be asked what his pronouns are and say “just he/him. Wish I had smth more interesting, but I’m just a guy :D”

- on the other end of that, soda and Steve are gay

- everyone is gay

- all of them

- so very fucking gay

Im done yapping for now, im so sorry for anyone that sees this

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avis-writeshq · 6 months

Text

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

AHHH thank you so much for sending this <33 i hope these fics make someone as happy as i felt when writing them 🫶

01 — SPARKS FLY

summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ wc (total): 36k

02 — TRAIN RIDES

PART ONE | PART TWO

summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N). warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!). i tried to write in Spencer’s pov, and with that comes a lot of rambling. i like to think that his mind is running 100 miles an hour, so i tried to write in a style that could implicate that wc (total): 5.2k

03 — GLUE SONG

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

04 — WHEN HE DEFENDS YOU FROM A MISOGYNIST

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily wc: 631

05 — DETENTION

pairing: damian wayne x fem!reader warnings: rated 16+ for mature themes, coarse language, and mutual pining, guns, stalking, kidnapping, s3xual assault, blood, psychopathic tendencies (not by reader or damian), arson, prayer talk wc: 6k

lots of spencer reid but also a couple of different characters :)) i hope you enjoy these because i had so much fun writing these !! thank you again @ssahotchnerr for sending this to me ahhh !!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #dc comics #dc comics x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne

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byers-bowlcut · 2 years

Text

Mike’s love for El being platonic, and not romantic, and realizing it over the course of season 3 reconciles nearly every contradiction with his behaviour.

He stands like a gay scarecrow as she kisses him in front of Will’s closet. That's him realizing that when he blurted out "I love her and I can't lose her again!" he meant it platonically. But her saying "ily too” WAS CLEARLY NOT PLATONIC, so now he’s left very confused (If he was simply shocked by the fact that she overheard him, he would’ve been surprised initially, and then kissed her back, and been all emotional and happy. But he wasnt.)

In fact he probably realized his heart fluttered when Will said “not possible” to him in the scene literally 1 minute prior, but NOT when his gf was attempting to make out with him? That’s clearly a problem! lol

This leads flawlessly into season 4.

Mike has apparently been refusing to even write the word 'love’ in his letters for 6 whole months. Why? Cause he didn't want them to look like love letters.

Meanwhile, he’s jealous of Will painting something for a girl. So he argues with Will about growing apart.

El argues with him about not saying ily. In the fight, he deflects romantic connotations with words like “care” and superhero idolization that he seems suuuper into this season.

He NODS when Will says “What if they don’t like the truth?”. That’s him thinking “Yeah, El won’t like the truth that I don't return her romantic feelings.”

In the van, he says their meeting was dumb luck and anyone could've been there for her that night. That’s hinting that he was just being a decent human. Not that it was a fated love at first sight meeting.

Then Will says, “You’re afraid of losing her”. And THAT is the true issue here.

This whole concept of ‘losing El’ (be it in relationship/daily life, or in death), is scary to Mike, because of what he went through seasons 1-2. At 12 years old, he saw another kid that he developed a bond with, die right in front of his freaking eyes. But they didn’t have a body or anything. So Mike kept getting signs and intuitive feelings that she was still alive. So he questioned his own sanity. For a WHOLE YEAR. Can you imagine how traumatic that is? And then for a kid that age?? That’s exactly why he develops an unhealthy codependency with her in Season 3. And we see it have a negative impact on the unity of the party, and on Will.

But a traumatic response doesn’t change the fact that Season 3 transitions us through the party’s puberty and growth into teenage hood.

And because of said puberty, Mike starts to realize what actual attraction towards someone is, or in this case… isnt.

Like if we think about the first two seasons, for a 12-13 year old living in that type of society, era, and a picture perfect white suburban American family, it would’ve been really really hard to figure it out back then! Like simply becoming very close friends with the opposite gender caused everyone (cough Nancy cough Lucas) to tell him that “ooooh you must like her”. So yeah, he thinks “I really must like her”. Because he does! He just can’t separate it from actual romantic attraction at that point due to age, and strong heteronormative standards, and no role models like Jonathan telling him “it’s okay to stray from the norm bro”. So of course he acts on it? That’s the NORM. He’s like, “You’re supposed to take a girl you like to the ball”, “We're supposed like girls now”, “This is what growing up means”, “This what old people do”. Like HELLO? Mike says stuff similar to that constantly. Dustin and Lucas do not. So yeah, it can be easily be read as heteronormativity. Not romantic attraction!

And so despite wanting to spend every day in the summer with El because of copious amounts of trauma from S1-2, he can’t continue believing its romantic attraction when his hormones say otherwise.

Like just look at their kissing scenes S3-4:

Seasons 3 starts with him pulling her hands OFF of him when kissing. He’s voluntarily kissing her instead of spending time with his friends, cause he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to do as he’s “not a kid anymore!”, yet he’s evidently not even enjoying it if he’s taking her hands off lol. Then by the end of the season he doesn’t even kiss back, and has his eyes wide open. Then six months later, when he’s way more self aware of his own feelings, this dude wears SUNGLASSES to the airport. We (and all the characters there) can’t even see his true expression when kissing her. And what’s more, he puts the bouquet of flowers between their bodies, to SEPARATE FASTER. When he could’ve very easily put that hand/arm around her, not between them (that's what he does with his other hand holding the bags).

And all of this: all this repression, the contradictions, the unsaid things... it all culminates to the monologue. Will told Mike in the van that El really needed him. And then Will reminds him of this again when El is in the piggyback, cause Will is annoying! (jokes lol). So of course, all rationality, all of Mike's realizations or progression, goes out the window. After all, he is THE HEART. He is needed by her. He can’t go through what he went through in season 1-2 again! It doesn’t matter if it’s not totally true. He needs to tell her what she wants to hear so she won’t DIE. The stakes are extremely high. So he delivers. He even takes all his knowledge of mediocre romance stories, and blurts out that it was love at first sight. It's silly to us the audience, cause if you actually go back and watch season 1 you can see that it's not even fucking true.

So why would he lie? Well because he doesn’t KNOW when he fell in love with El. Because he never fell in love with her. So yeah. It’s PLATONIC with a capital P.

(And to add a cherry on top, he gives his sister’s ring to her jfc)

#mike wheeler #gay mike wheeler #bi mike wheeler #btw im not trying to say 'mike isn't attracted to women period'#i'm just saying he sees EL platonically #my post can be interpreted as gay mike ofc #but i'm not trying to discount bi mike either #sexuality is a spectrum #bi kids can also confuse feelings due to heteronormativity #byler #will byers #elmike

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taisgf · 5 days

Text

hc. how i imagine yj girls in relationships post-crash (nat, jackie, tai, van, shauna, lottie. pre-crash here & here.)

A/N: fem!reader, nsfw references, but nothing crazy. mention of drugs, alc. ooc, possibly? shauna pregnancy, not proofread cause I’m tired reminder that reqs are open pookies ily

SHAUNA

𓇼 After the crash, physical touch and intimacy with Shauna would become such a staple and comfort within your relationship. Holding hands, cuddling at night, touching forehead to forehead- anything to know that you’re near, you’re okay, you’re her’s.

𓇼 Shauna would be the type to love doing chores with you, 100%. Sitting together while you scrub laundry, or having you near her when she has to butcher up meat that Nat caught. She’d be re-reading her own journal entries too, letting you look at pages from old dates or soccer games, laughing at her dorkiness and nervousness from before you started dating.

𓇼 Although, I feel like Shauna would harbour a lot of guilt after everything that happened. You would have to be the voice of reason at times as her anxiety gets a hold of her, even more so after she finds out she’s pregnant. Having you as her rock and confidant would really help Shauna, just making you love her all the more.

𓇼 I feel like Shauna could grow really possessive and crave dominance as everything plays out. Shauna’s feeling that she lacks control after everything would really affect your relationship, with Shauna growing more protective and even controlling. Strongly urging you not to leave the cabin (or her sight), and insisting she’s the one in control whenever you’re intimate. She would still be gentle and soft, but her fear of loosing you as well as loosing control of her life would really fuck with her.

𓇼 This would probably lead to some jealousy, too. If you’re around another girl more often than normal, going scavenging with them or getting help from them instead of Shauna for whatever reason Shauna could end up a little salty. “Why don’t you get Natalie to help you, since you seem to love hanging out with her?” (said as she cuts a deer apart). Shauna would be quick to snap out of it, though- playfully blame it on pregnancy hormones and stress while pecking your lips.

𓇼 Lots of university and future talk while you’re bored. You’d have to help Shauna sort out the whole Brown V Rutgers situation, but with all the free time in the wilderness what better to do?

𓇼 The amount of trauma bonding for you and Shauna specifically is crazy. She has it worse off than the others, with the unexpected baby- and you, having to find out that your girlfriend’s pregnant to some guy from before you were dating and having to help her through that. Though, after all was said and done, your relationship would be invincible, likely staying strong long after being rescued.

TAI

𓇼 When in the wilderness, you'd always feel safe with Taissa. She's always been a natural born leader, even since before the crash, and nothing would have changed. You'd always be able to trust Taissa to make rational, sensible and grounded decisions. AKA, she's your rock.

𓇼 Despite the tension of the day in the wilderness, you'd be met with soft cuddles and touches in the night with Tai. Talking about anything and everything, just to unwind and relax. You'd be the only one to see a softer, less rational and more emotional side of Taissa- the inklings of the girl you knew pre-crash.

𓇼 I feel like the danger and gravity of being stuck in the wilderness would cause Tai to be more affectionate, too. Realizing that anything could happen at any time, she'd definitely be more mindful of her time with you and how limited it could be with their jeopardized situation in the wilderness.

𓇼 Taissa's somewhat domestic and mature temperament from pre-crash would linger, too. Waking up before you and leaving a small glass of water by your makeshift bed, always making sure you're wearing enough layers before going out or giving you some of her food if she thinks you didn't get enough. She'd always nonchalantly shrug it off, though.

𓇼 However, maintaining somewhat of a leadership position within the group would put a lot of stress on Taissa which would no doubt lead to conflicts within your relationship. Tai might say something she really doesn't mean, or distance herself from you. However, the wilderness makes it hard to run, forcing her to confront your issues and ultimately apologizing.

𓇼 Taissa's fiercely loyal to you post crash, creating an almost 'Us VS The World' dynamic. She'd confide things in you that she wouldn't with Lottie or Shauna, tell you things she disagrees with that they've done or share plans with you that she wouldn't tell anybody else. You and some others would become this tight knit group within the other yellowjackets, but ultimately Taissa trusts you greater than anyone else.

𓇼 Intimacy with Tai in the wilderness would be intense and deliberate. I get the feeling she'd want to be the dominant one, the one to take charge, as a way of regaining a sense of control in her life. Sex would come as a comfort too, a brief distraction to the chaos of the group's situation.

VAN

𓇼 As soon as the plane collides with the ground and Van's able to get out of her seat, she's hunting you down to make sure you're okay. Van can't resist being you knight in shining armor, and during the plane crash it's only amplified tenfold. She's screaming your name, helping a few others as she weaves through the cabin until she finds you- carrying you or dragging you away from the wreckage (and crying a little, I fear. Poor girl was terrified). No way would Van let you out of her sight, at least not for at least two days after.

𓇼 Van would prioritize your wellbeing over hers, too. Not majorly, just small gestures that remind you that you're her number one. Van went out scavenging, and found some wild berries? She'll try them (or make someone else try them) before giving you any. If an item of clothing gets ruined, she's quick to lend you hers.

𓇼 Nighttime in the wilderness means having Van cling to you full throttle. I'm talking so closely that if you need to leave for the bathroom or grab something from across the attic, you'd have to pry her fingers off your body one by one- met with a sleepy groan and a not so soft request to 'get your ass back over here' as she feels the mattress dip beside her.

𓇼 I get the idea that Van would organize little faux dates, too. A small picnic comprised of berries and edible looking leaves held near the large lake near the cabin, or dragging you out as the sun sets to swim with her or go on a walk. Van makes it clear to you that you're still her girlfriend, and no amount of stranded-in-the-wilderness-ness would change that. She makes it clear she still loves you, rambling on about everything you'll do together when help finally comes.

𓇼 Van's super protective and tough, but she'd be the one to cope with everything using humor. In the wilderness Van's great at controlling the group's mood, spreading her optimism and making everyone, especially you, laugh with her crude dark humor. Something that would stay consistent both pre and post crash is her love of chasing you with bugs, too. Also, when you get bored or sad, best believe that Van's reciting your favorite movies to you as stories as well.

𓇼 However, underneath her goofy demeanor Van seems quite grounded and realistic. She's aware you're both in danger, and she knows that you could be out there for god knows how long which is why she's so overprotective of you. Van could go overboard sometimes, only out of worry.

𓇼 Her defensive and protective nature could become overbearing at times, but only because she's scared shitless of loosing you. How could she risk you when she can't imagine a future after being rescued without you? You would have to remind Van a few times that yes, you can manage on your own, and she just needs to trust you.

𓇼 Also, I 100% believe Van brought her strap on in her luggage. Just saying. She'd definitely turn sex into a playful, comforting thing between you two- initiating with kisses or play wrestling while you two are tucked away in the attic of the cabin.

LOTTIE

𓇼 Being with Lottie after the crash and slowly watching her change from the girl you knew would be odd. For better or for worse, a power dynamic would quickly be established between you two as the group turns more cult-ish and she has her visions. However, the Lottie you knew pre-crash would still be around, just fewer and further between as time goes on. In the early dates after the crash she'd be more or less the same- maintaining her wit and sarcasm.

𓇼 If you were like Natalie and grew to be more skeptical of her beliefs, there would be incredible tension that would eventually drive you apart-possibly to be reunited after being rescued and Lottie gets back on her medication.

𓇼 However, if you get sucked into everything then I feel like you'd end up as Lottie's right hand man. She would be fiercely protective of you, believing you belong to her and her only- as well as never letting any of the other girls as much as touch you, meaning you'd be isolated from the other cult 'activities'. (The wilderness said so, duh.)

𓇼 When she's not full cult-leader mode Lottie would maintain her playfulness with you- insisting she gives you a kiss before you leave the cabin for good luck, or taking you out on a walk where she points out certain things she sees in nature while holding your hand, keeping you comfortable tucked into her side.

𓇼 Seeing snippets of how Lottie used to act as she teases you for how you sleep or run after a rabbit, celebrate after catching a fish from the lake with your hands or pout as you realize someone's using your beanie would, for a second, give you a sense of normalcy.

𓇼 At times you'd catch Lottie just admiring you from afar as you go about your chores in the cabin, a soft smile gracing her lips as she scans your features. Having your partnership as a constant through all the chaos going on in her mind would help Lottie more than you can imagine, and she takes plenty of time to appreciate you for that.

𓇼 I get the idea that sex would become a very spiritual or ritualistic thing between you and Lottie. She'd be delicate, each move having meaning- maybe dragging you to certain locations to do it or whispering things into your ear. The whole experience would be sensual, intimate yet still loving and reminiscent of how she was to you before.

NAT

𓇼 Even in the most dire situations (AKA a literal plane crash hundreds of kilometers away from anything or anyone else), you can count on Natalie to be a total tease. The familiar banter between you two would far from cease, and Natalie would revel in the familiarity it gives her- a sense of normalcy amongst the chaos.

𓇼 However, pretty early on it becomes clear that Natalie has a real no-bullshit, survival first attitude- always choosing the brutal, sometimes ugly truth and plan of action rather than an optimistic, watered down version like Jackie, for example. It's reminiscent of her straight to the point attitude pre-crash, just amplified. This sometimes means making decisions for you and the group that you may not be a fan of; like choosing to be a hunter and work the gun despite any protests you have that it's dangerous. She'd be quick to shrug you off in those scenarios, which seems harsh but in reality Natalie's just doing her part to keep everyone safe.

𓇼 A part of being with Natalie post crash would mean helping her when she starts to struggle without her vices- drugs, alcohol. Her secret stash could only last so long. Having you there to help her get used to full sobriety and cope with not having any of it would mean a lot to Natalie.

𓇼 I feel like you, her girlfriend, would be one of the only people Nat's not really crass and argumentative with. Nat would let herself be vulnerable with you, curling up to you at night or seeking you out after a hunt to just relax and actually acknowledge how she's feeling.

𓇼 Natalie would be the type of girlfriend to drag you away from the cabin at night for walks or swims like Van would. Natalie really savored those serene moments alone with you pre-crash where you'd be lying on the roof of her trailer or skipping a class together underneath the bleachers meant a lot to Natalie, so being able to sneak away from the other girls and just be with you is something she'd do often.

𓇼 Both pre and post crash Natalie aren't too good at traditional romantic gestures or words, so little remarks like "You're not so bad, you know?" or "Stay close. Tai would beat my ass if I lost you out here, or whatever," made with a little grin and a squeeze of her hand in yours are her ways of saying 'I love you. Be safe'.

𓇼 Since a love of music would have been a staple in your pre-crash relationship, hearing you hum a song or talk about an album would bring Natalie lots of comfort and joy. I can imagine nights with her in the harsh winter as you're curled up together, her soft voice in your ear asking you to sing or hum something for her. She's a softie, deep down.

𓇼 Nat's argumentative, bold and unapologetic nature could cause some problems between you two in the wilderness, but due to the forced proximity she'd be fast to apologize. More often than not these scenarios lead to Natalie on top of you, both locked in a passionate and desperate kiss while she works her hands on you. The sex would be a distraction for you two more often than not, rough with clear undertones of love and care.

JACKIE

𓇼 I’m of the firm belief that if you were in a relationship with Jackie, she’d have been sitting on your lap as the plane went down. Diva cannot take her hands off you even for a second (maybe just to put her overhead mask on).

𓇼 Unlike most of the other Yellowjackets, I feel like Jackie wouldn’t change much compared to her pre-crash self. She’s still fun loving and incredibly touchy, which provides a great reassurance to you- even if she’s not the best helping the group out.

𓇼 Despite everything, Jackie would do her best to emanate the romance you two had before the crash, maintaining her flirty personality with you. Fleeting touches, pecks and kisses whenever she can, cheeky comments when you’re trying to do your chores. She’d still try and make herself look pretty for you too- using whatever was left of the little makeup she had packed for nationals.

𓇼 Jackie would probably end up following you around like a little dog when you’re busy, though. We know Jackie struggles with the physical labour aspect of the wilderness, so chances are she’d lean on you for a lot of things. Chopping timber? The axe is too heavy, you need to do it for her. Cooking something? It’s too hot, she doesn’t like to sit so close. Jackie could become a bit whiny, but you’re probably used to it by then. She’s also a total princess when she’s on her period, too. Literally becomes immobile.

𓇼 Jackie’s habit of shutting you out when she’s mad or giving you petty silent treatment would continue through even after the crash, I fear. Again though, after realising how serious everything is becoming she’d be quick to snap out of it with a cute apology and a flurry of kisses to your face.

𓇼 Problems could arise within your relationship as sometimes it can seem like Jackie doesn’t take the whole ‘stranded with limited resources’ thing seriously. It would be easy to get angry at Jackie, but after a well needed wake up call from you she’d be eager to help around the cabin.

𓇼 Jackie’s sex drive wouldn’t falter after crashing at all. She’d be trying to initiate just as much as she used to back home, although probably with a lower success rate. She’d try to tease you by suggesting doing it outside or sneaking out to get some ‘alone time’, or saying that she’s too cold and needs you even closer. For warmth, of course- totally not so she can nuzzle her hands up your shirt under your bra.

𓇼 Between you two, there would probably be a lot of crying. Having each-other for comfort would really strengthen your relationship. Although, trauma bonding is a key point in relationships with any Yellowjacket…

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dellalyra · 1 year

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I looked at the prompt list, but i literally COULD NOT decide, but i was thinking, what if Megumi or Tsumiki had a really bad nightmare? How would Gojo and Reader help them? I was thinking baby Megumi, in his sleepy, not being as menacing and just being scared and asking reader for help (cause gojo would bully him)

Also Ily, thank you for your service to society.

A/N: cryin screamin throwin up i can’t this was so sweet to write I think I got a cavity. Having soft sleepy baby Megumi made me so happy to write bc I feel he definitely had his vulnerable tiny little boy moments with these two after he settled in - still a prickly little cactus man most days but occasionally he just needed a cuddle - bc who wouldn’t? Especially if it’s Gojo giving them. Also ily and thank you so much these kind of messages MAKE MY FUCKIN DAY. Keep em coming!!!!!

listen to: luv note - chloe moriondo

la lune - billie marten

A Little Extra Love

Waking up to the sound of obvious nightmares wasn’t unusual for you. You’d been sleeping beside Satoru for a couple of years now, and you’ve shared rooms with Geto and Shoko - the four of you have seen too much shit to sleep unscathed. At least once a month, you’d be sitting with Satoru, still shaking and crying from the lingering feelings of fear and pain stemming from the nightmare - of Riko, of Suguru, of Toji - of losing you. You were no stranger yourself, dreams of bloodied white hair in your lap and vacant blue eyes with a stab wound through his throat plagued you - the image of Suguru holding a young girl's corpse, of the last time you saw Haibara all poisoned your sleep now and again.

So waking at 2am to the sounds of soft whimpers made you immediately turn around to wake your boyfriend from what you expected to be his nightmare - only to find him fast asleep, hair wild across the pillow and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he lay starfished across the bed. There was no relief however in seeing a peaceful Satoru - because that meant it was one of the kids.

They’d been with you for about 9 months now, and it was almost Megumi’s 7th birthday.

You bolted up, trying to stay silent as you creeped out your door and ran down the hallway to the kids rooms - the sound was coming from Megumi’s room so you softly opened the door and came face to face with a sight that broke your heart. Megumi was clutching his frog plush so tight that his small knuckles were white and his face was contorted in fear - whimpers and soft cries coming from his trembling mouth.

Dashing across to his bed, you gently sat on the bed beside him. You knew that waking anyone - let alone a 6 year old - abruptly from a nightmare would only cause more fear, so you began to softly coo his name and stroke his soft black hair away from his face. After about 20 seconds, you placed a hand on his little chest and rubbed soothing circles - causing his eyes to flash open and the frog to be clutched even tighter to his chest as he let out a yelp at whatever woke him, eyes wide and petrified frantically scanning the room before he surprised you by flinging his tiny arms around your neck and clutching you right and crawling his way into your lap.

“You’re okay sweet boy, you’re safe. It was a nasty dream, that’s all.” You coo into his hair, with the softest voice you can muster. You hate seeing him like this, you wish he didn’t have the trauma he did so he could worry about things normal little boys did instead.

He sniffled into your chest, head pressed into your fluffy pyjama top face first. You continue the slow cycles on his back and wrap your arm around his legs to keep his close to you.

“Do you wanna talk about it, baby?” You ask.

He shudders, but nods.

“He c-came to get us, my dad, he came in here and took me and ‘Miki and said w-we had to leave with him to the big Zen’in family and never come home again and h-he said you didn’t w-want us and-” and the sobs took over as you got the gist of the dream and if the ghost of Toji Fushiguro was in front of you right now you’d kill him and send him back to hell again.

“Oh, my sweet boy - that’s never gonna happen. We’re never leaving you or Tsumiki, we always will want you guys - we love you both so much. I promise, no matter how much me and Satoru annoy you guys you can’t get rid of us, ‘Kay? We’re a family now. Your dad isn’t taking you from us, pinky promise.”

‘Because your unofficially adopted father killed him and him and I threatened the Zen’in family so much that they’re too scared to come within a mile of you two!’ Is the bit you leave out.

You also leave out that you and Satoru are looking at legally adopting them - that’s for another, happier time.

He sticks his little pinkie finger out and locks it with yours, sniffling a tiny bit more and rubbing his face (snot and all) onto your koala print top, but you couldn’t care less when you can feel the shaking start to settle.

“We can stay with you guys forever, ‘Miki too? Even though she has no magic stuff like me and you guys because the Zen’in said that she wasn’t worth keeping and -” He asks.

“Megumi - we don’t want you two because of what you can or can’t do - we love you guys as Megumi and Tsumiki, nothing else. Even if neither of you could do any of that stuff, you’re stuck with us, okay? Satoru and I have enough magic to keep us all safe - the whole family, okay?” You hate the Zen’in family for even planting that fear in his little brain.

“I love you too.” He says as his tears dry and you wipe his little face. This is only the second time he’s said it to you both, once was a few weeks ago when you and Satoru put him to sleep and both whispered “love you!” into his softly lit room and he whispered “love you guys too.”

You both sobbed that night - you’re both only 21 - can’t be doing that bad of a job with them if he says it back, can you?

“You’re such a brave boy. If you get more yucky dreams again, you come get me or Satoru, okay?” You plonk a kiss on his spiky hair.

“Just you. Not Satoru.” He looks down, fiddling with your necklace.

“Why not, sweetie?”

“I - don’t want him to know.”

“About the nightmares?”

He nods.

“He - he’s the strongest. I don’t want him to think I’m not brave or strong.” He says, words that shouldn’t even compute that way in his head.

“Absolutely not - baby, who told you that being scared makes you not brave or strong?” You tilt his little head up.

“My dad.”

“Well your dad’s dumb then. You can only be really brave if you’re scared. Being scared and fighting anyway is the bravest thing a person can do, I promise. Think about it this way - who’s the bravest and strongest person you know?” You ask as he giggles at you saying Toji’s dumb (you’ve plenty of other names too for that man.)

“You and Satoru.” He says with such resolve your heart melts, you expected him to say Satoru, so being included felt good.

“Satoru and I both get nightmares too, I had one last week, Satoru a few nights ago. It doesn’t mean you’re not brave or strong - it just means you need a little extra love, that’s all.” You nod at him, and you seem the surprise in his eyes at the revelation that the strongest and bravest people he knows get nightmares too, shattering the words Toji had planted into smithereens. How could nightmares mean you’re not those things if you guys had them? You had to know, because you and Aunty Koko were the smartest people in the world. Maybe Ijichi too.

He’s quiet for a minute.

“So if I have a bad dream - I can come get you or Satoru?” He asks.

“You can get more or him for anything at all, honey, not just bad dreams. We’re always here for you, and nothing will change our minds about how much we love you, or how brave and strong and smart and kind you are - ‘Kay?” He nods into your chest at this.

He settles down, small fingers still fiddling with your pendant.

“C’mon, do you wanna come stay with us in our room tonight?” You say.

He thinks for a second.

Then nods, and yawns.

So you lift him onto your hip, ensuring he has his frog and his water bottle and carry him down the hall into your room. Satoru’s still splayed across the bed like he’s determined to use every single centimetre of his long ass body to claim territory.

You point at the drool on his face and Megumi giggles, hearing Satoru order dessert in his sleep.

You lay him down between you both, and crawl in under the covers as he settles in - the movement stirring Satoru, who’s eyes open and he looks in confusion.

“Princess whatcha doin’ up? S’late. Wait - what you doin’ here kid?” He slurs, lifting himself onto his side to face you both.

Megumi looks at you and you smile, tucking him into the bed with you both.

“‘Gumi had a bad dream, ‘toru - so he’s going to stay with us tonight, a little extra love - yeah?” You say, petting both your boys hair. ‘A little extra love’ was what you had said to Satoru when you found him awake after a nightmare back in first year of high school. He smiled at that, eyes dropping back closed as he ruffled Megumi’s hair.

“Bad dream are the worst, aren’t they kiddo? I hate ‘em. If any bad guys come near you I’ll blast them into space, ‘kay? You just shout for me in your dream and let me deal with ‘em.” Satoru mumbles, sleep quickly taking him again, as he shuffles in closer to the middle and you both wrap an arm around the little boy who is snuggling in to return to sleep.

“Promise?” Megumi asks, poking Satoru’s nose.

“Pinky promise.” Satoru replies, lips quirked but eyes shut.

Megumi smiles softly to himself, and hugs his frog and shuts his eyes.

You let out a yawn, eyes closing heavy.

“Goodnight boys, I love you both.”

“Night Y/N. Luh’ you too.” Megumi mumbles, hair splayed almost identically to Satoru’s.

“Night night, Princess. Love ya’ always, you too kiddo.”

No more nightmares that night, just four sleeping soundly in a quiet cottage.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #family formations au #family formations drabbles

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neonlight2 · 1 year

Text

Marauders era Headcanons

I’ll be adding to this throughout the storyline

Masterlist

Sirius Black:

- Partially Deaf, because there is no way he came out inbred and totally unscathed.

- Genderfluid because he’s an indecisive bitch

- Loves when his hair is braided no matter how much he says otherwise (also likes his head scratched)

- Paints his nails just to chip them cause he thinks it looks hot (same thing with smudging eyeliner)

- Calls Lily ‘Evans’, until she and James get together then he calls her ‘Mrs. Potter’

- annoyed he has to share James

- Fidgets with his hair and finger/rings constantly, because he definitely had ADD

- Makes this claw thingy with his hand when he’s nervous (if you know where this is from ily)

- Can dance REALLY WELL (ballet), because of that pure blood privilege, and does the stance naturally

-Can play the violin but is embarrassed so learns guitar so if someone asks him if he plays an instrument he can just say that instead

- Sexuality = Hot people aka Remus Lupin ( he’s just a whore idk what else to say)

-Touch starved/attention whore

- Such a fucking G, this man would riot for anything his friends ask

- If you walked into his closet you would think two people put their stuff in there, no, just him

- Speaks French

Remus Lupin:

- Poor boy is depressed

- And actually poor which is why he sells weed or other muggle things (he hustles the shit out of the students at Hogwarts by saying everything is ‘exotic’ and they believe him because everyone thinks he’s smart)

- Touch starved but doesn’t like to be touched (if you know you know)

-Bisexual panic. All. The. Time.

-Oblivious as hell to the fact everyone wants him— I mean everyone

- Loves tea. SO. MUCH. TEA.

- Has a book club with Lily

- Got a ton of piercings and tattoos over fifth year’s summer, but people rarely see them cause he’s always wearing sweaters or covered up some how

-His whole closet look like it should belong to an old man, yet he still slays

- Bites his lips and inside of cheek a lot, so James carries around lip balm for him

- When he’s high he’s chill

- But he’s hysterical when he’s drunk

-Can read multiple languages, but his pronunciation is god awful (Sirius makes fun of him for it)

-Has Chocolate on hand at all times because once he didn’t and he threw Snape across the classroom

-Man is an uncoordinated tree

James Potter:

- Both the Mom and child of the group somehow

- Takes lots of naps

-Sorry to say but Gryffindor is his personality

- Foot taps

- Holy shit this guy is ADHD

- ‘Bambi’ is his other nickname, and he thinks it’s cute until he watches the movie

- The healthiest mentally of the group

- Golden retriever vibes

- If James hasn’t seen Sirius within 30 minutes and he doesn’t know where he is, he gets panicked

-Has a thing for Youngest siblings apparently (Lily and Regulus)

-Obsessed with Babies

- Definition of himbo sometimes

- He’s good at every sport he tries

- Queer

- Trained Sirius not to say Mudblood throughout first and second year

Peter Pettigrew:

- Trans (I’ll go more in-depth later)

- Ace

- if Social anxiety was a person

- Bakes like an absolute KING

- Chews fingernails, so Sirius got him leather gloves to matches his own to get him to stop

- Knows random shit/facts

-also knows everyone’s business because no one pays him any attention

- Short king

- Hilarious, practically makes the group piss themselves when alone in the common room

- Loves everything fuzzy

- Has been in love with Mary since third or fourth year, but hasn’t said anything because he knew about her and Lily

- Has family trauma too, but he doesn’t thinks it’s enough to complain about because of what he’s seen with Sirius

- Was the first to master turning into an animagus

-As bad as Sirius and James with worrying about his hair, just less loud about it

-He knew about wolfstar before James

Lily Evans:

-Pansexual

- Politics Queen

- As sassy and sarcastic as Sirius

-Stress cleans

- the Left corner of her forehead twitches when she’s mad

- Thick girl (her thighs are HUGE and James practically drools over them 24/7, respectively ofc)

- Short 5’

- the others have to keep her within arms reach because she gets lost easily in crowds, her hair is the only thing that helps

- Human calculator (she gets perfect marks on every subject EXCEPT DADA, which is the class Sirius and James do; it annoys her to no end)

- Most likely to actually throw hands

- Fangirls openly about book characters (with Remus)

- Can’t sing to save her life (poor babe just wants to sing abba, but she just ends up being made fun of)

-Vowed to not cut her hair until she graduated, so around sixth year she had to start braiding it because if she didn’t she’d sit on it

- Can forge a signature/handwriting very well

- Is actually really insecure about her magical abilities because of the rift it caused between her and Petunia

Marlene McKinnon:

-Lesbian

-The only person to actually make her question her sexuality is Remus, and that’s because it’s fucking Remus Lupin

- During fourth year when her and Sirius were ‘dating’, they were just teaching each other how to flirt with girls/guys and they’d kiss just to practice

-Obsessed with Piercings (begged Remus to give her a couple after he told her about how he had the supplies)

- One of the best players on the Gryffindor Quidditch team/ uses it as anger management (Beater position)

-Her and Sirius have an agreement to tell each other the weekly outfit plan so they don’t wear the same thing or color (red or black mostly)

- Roasting people is her platonic love language

-Can play every band instrument

-She looks like a tough, rocker chick but is a softie for Dorcas

- Intimidates everyone because she’s low key buff (can bench more than James and Sirius combined) and super tall (looks like a giant next to Lily)

-Can’t speak in front of Dorcas at first, yet Dorcas understands her

-Big on PDA which leads to Sirius gagging obnoxiously

-Her and Sirius “fighting” is for show so people stop shipping them together/ teasing them

- Dyslexic so Lily and Dorcas read to her if there’s anything important (which leads to them doing it even if she’s not around)

-Simps for James Mum (but who wouldn’t)

Dorcas Meadowes:

- Part of the Slytherin skittles

- Non-binary

-Demisexual

- Dark humor and it’s worse when she’s around Regulus and Barty

- Nyx is her first girl kiss in my oc story (Marlene probably was for every other story)

-Big softy when it comes to Marlene

-Resting bitch face

- Amazing artist/ sketching Marlene constantly

- Makes jewelry (Marlene and her matching rings, and friendship bracelets/ necklaces for the others that they can never take off— she warns them before hand)

- Will go batshit crazy if she stays up after 12 am

-Gets super competitive when playing Quidditch

- Rants about how much she loves pockets every 20 minutes

- Instinctively moves closer to someone she knows when she’s in public

- More introverted than the rest, would rather stay in the common room and chill

-makes a ton of your mom jokes

Mary Macdonald:

- Pansexual or Polysexual

-She loves to embroidery/making clothes, so if anyone needs something made or tailored they go to her

-Hypes everyone up all the time, ‘don’t disrespect yourself’ vibe

- Has the best alcohol tolerance in the group

-James potter triggers her for a multitude of reasons; they have a banter relationship

- She always has what you need in her bag— like Mary Poppins

-Lily was her first love and friend

- SUCH a good listener (like I know canon Remus and Lily would be the best listeners, but I think it’s Mary)

- Both her and Remus had a glow up fourth year and everyone wants to either be them or be with them

- Loves dancing, will do it randomly while doing absolutely anything

-Hates cold weather, she’ll literally wear five jackets DON’T play

-Has had or does have a eating disorder because of societal pressure of internal judgment; not to mention people definitely paint her out to be a ‘slag’ because she happens to be more open about her sexuality (and they don’t do it to Sirius because we live in a fucked patriarchy)

- Will scream “fuck the police” or “fuck the Patriarchy” when running away from an authority figure (or just Lily/Remus)

-vegetarian

-Extroverted (loves to be around people/hates being alone)

Regulus Black:

- Asthma (again, can’t escape inbreeding completely)

-Has permanent dark circles, yet he still looks beautiful??? Looks like eyeshadow to be real

- Demisexual

-trans

-Scratching his knuckles is a severe nervous tick of his

-Writes poetry and short stories

- Plays the piano

-Started playing quidditch to interact with Sirius more and to impress him (but as he got older he didn’t really give a shit anymore)

-Speaks French and Reads Latin

-Really into Astronomy

- He had a crush on James in fifth year but didn’t pursue it because he still somewhat resented him for having Sirius all to himself (and he knew Sirius would get mad)

-Cusses a lot when around his friends

-Best poker face, could lie to anyone and get away with it

-Photographic memory

-Nice to all the House elves (and all the Marauders except Sirius and James)

Pandora, Evan, and Barty

Evan and Pandora are siblings

Everyone in the Marauders and Slytherin Skittles have agreed that Pandora has to be protected at all cost

What they don’t know is that this girl is lethal (Carries around potions she’s created that could burn through steel)

Barty is hella gay, psychotic, and a bit of a pyro

Barty is also low key obsessed with Regulus

Evan is in love with Barty

Rosekiller is a thing, and it is toxic (don’t we just love it)

I’ll probably add more for Barth, Evan, and Pandora later

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