#zendaya character

[russsiangirl]

dating tashi duncan.. ( at stanford )

dating tashi duncan had been somewhat of a dream, you had never expected to get yourself tangled up with her. i mean, she's just such a dream and she's all yours. or maybe it's the other way around, you're all hers. yeah, that's it. she owns you, has you on a leash like a dog. she likes having control, relishes in it. the honeymoon phase is heaven, you two are walking each other to and from class, you're going to her practices and games - spending just about every waking moment together. but sometimes you wish she just wasn't so.. well known around campus. she tells you "it's fine, you're the only one i have eyes for baby." one night when you're holding her close and playing with the hem of her shirt. you try your best to believe her, you know deep down that she does mean it. you're the object of her affection, her prized possession. there's just one thing you can't compete with, tennis.

tennis is the one thing you're convinced that tashi could never let go of, without tennis she would simply perish. you don't mind her dedication to the sport, it's one of the things you admire most about her. how she's managed to love and cherish tennis all these years and not get bored from it. she dominates on the court with the racket in her hand - that's her kingdom and she's the fucking queen. she has her claws in the sport, taking it's blood and making it her own. it was her destiny to play tennis. when it's clear her career is gonna take off, you start having doubts. could she really balance all 3 things? what if she met somebody else at a tournament? would she just leave? no, she wouldn't, she loved you so much. or that's what she told you. that's what you chose to believe, that's what you told yourself at night when she was asleep in her dorm. you tried your best to support her, showing up at her games. helping her as best as you could at practices, making sure she was eating properly. making sure that she was in top shape. it's not like your relationship was rocky, it was pretty stable. you two didn't fight often - but when you did. it was bad. tashi was stubborn, she would never let you get the last word in. she was the one who decided when you were forgiven. it pained you to be away from her, pained you to worry about her when she was out and about. you remember when i told you tennis was her first love? i wasn't lying. after your arguments, she would go down to the courts, play her anger out until she almost passed out from exhaustion. sometimes you wished she wasn't so fucking stubborn and she would just accept the fact that you were worried about her. you just wanted her to be okay, to not have all this pressure with classes and the public and tennis. you wished you could just take it from her, lessen the burden a bit. things were going well, until her injury. you had a test that day that you couldn't miss, so you didn't go. you told art that it was okay - he could go in your place as long as he told you how she did. what you didn't expect was that text from him that said 'nurse, now. she's hurt, it's bad.' you immediately spiral. how, why? is it going to fuck up her career, can she still play? you can't really imagine tashi without tennis, the two were conjoined. you run as fast as you can to the nurse, only to find art at her side with her knee wrapped up in something that you don't recognize. there's tears tracks racing down her face and you just want to wipe them away, to kiss her face and tell her that they'll get past this. you pause at the doorway, look at art and pray that the question in your eyes can be answered. that your worries would be just you overthinking once again. but all he gives you is a solemn shake of the head. he stands up from the chair and slowly makes his way out the door to you, his voice a small whisper as he spoke. "they don't know if she'll be able to play again." you stare dejectedly at the tile floor, watching how it reflects your face back at you. the world goes silent around you, the only sound is your heart pounding in your ears. tashi can't play tennis. she can't play the one sport that she's truly loved, the one thing she can't let go of has been ripped away from her. you give art a small nod which he offers back before he makes his way out of the nurse's office, letting you and tashi be alone. you go to her side, hand reaching out to gingerly wipe her tears away. she doesn't yell, doesn't cry, just sits there silently. her body trembling. you two will find a way to work past this, you promise yourself. she had to wear a brace, her steady walk was reduced to a limp as her knee healed up as best as it could. she could continue playing tennis, just not in way she could before. you could see the pain in her eyes, how she was disgusted with herself for letting such a thing happen. it wasn't her fault, you knew that. but she didn't. "tashi, it's not your fault." she hums and nods, pressing a small kiss to your lips. "i know."

her voice is firm, confident. you trust tashi to know her limits. she knows herself better than she knows anybody. you loved that about her, her confidence in herself.

you two eventually settle back into a schedule, eating meals together when you can. going out for dates at least once a month, walking each other to classes. you missed this, the mundane of it all. it was simple and enjoyable. spending time with tashi was as easy as breathing, it felt natural but you also needed it to survive. without her, you felt empty. like a piece of you was missing. to make things a little more official, you buy each other promise rings. a commitment. it wasn't anything too crazy, just a simple band with some jewels - but when you looked down at your hand and saw it - you automatically smiled. it was like having her with you at all times. 

you both met the other's family and it went stellar, they both clearly approved of the other and family dinners also became a regular occurence in y'alls schedules. everything felt kinda perfect, for now.

yayy more tashi stuff !!! uhm i didn't expect to write this much but i love her character so much. i need her so bad :(( tashi duncan the woman that u are give me a chance plsss 🙏🙏

also wrote this for a friend of mine bc we both love zendaya.. yea!

like and repost if u liked it !!!

[darcyolsson]

you know 99.99% of the time when a character is "the attractive one" in american tv or movies it doesnt work bc every other person on screen is also extremely conventionally attractive so it always feels a little silly that the rest of the cast is pretending this one person is so much hotter than them and out of their league bc there's always at least 6 other people who are equally if not more attractive than "the attractive one". but in challengers it actually works because that's zendaya

[sceletaflores]

Advantage, Duncan.

pairing: stanford!tashi duncan x fem!reader

summary: tashi duncan doesn’t get on her knees for anyone, but she did for you. after that night she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d let you slip away from her.

—or: tashi needs you to understand that she doesn't give a fuck about patrick.

word count: 2.7k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, girl kissing, oral (fem!receiving), fingering (only barely but fem!receiving), somewhat public sex (in a locker room lmao), cheating but not really, love confessions kind of, lowkey manipulative!tashi but barely, patrick getting shit on like always, porn with a dash of plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: back on my wlw cheater bullshit! so glad to be here! i centered this whole fic around a locker room sex scene. it just sort of spiraled into this cause you know i love being messy. once again no one requested this i'm being selfish lmao but i need more tashi fics on my masterlist! hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Tashi’s sneakers squeak quietly as she makes her way back to the locker room. Sweat drying on her brow and adrenaline still buzzing in her veins despite the match being over. It was an easy win, Northridge had been slipping down the ranks the longer the season went on and the girl had a shit backhand.

The first thing Tashi did after shaking hands and posing for pictures was text you. She left the locker room door cracked open for you. The thought of you sitting there alone waiting patiently for her behind that door made her almost giddy enough to skip the rest of the way down the hall.

This was something like a tradition for you guys now, meeting in the locker room after her matches. Something that started a little after the two of you met a couple months ago. It was the last tournament she had before the fall semester started. The court was owned by some snobby Northern California country club that your dad happened to be president of. He stuck you in the ball crew for the summer so he could watch you keep you busy and make sure you stayed out of trouble, joke's on him. 

You were the first thing she noticed the second she stepped on the court, but how could she not? You in your cute flowy linen shorts and matching white top. A light blue visor strapped to your head. Tashi immediately got why guys have that primal, desperate urge to impress pretty girls they just met. She showed off more in that match than she had in a long time, running the girl on the other end of the court ragged.

Tashi wanted you to notice her, to see how dominating she was, to be impressed by her. Every time she hit a perfect shot, her eyes would dart to you, checking if you were watching, and you were. 

You were practically gawking at her, eyes all wide and admiring as your head snapped back and forth with every smack of the ball. 

It was perfect, you were gravitating towards her more with every new set exactly like she wanted you to. By the time she won you were watching her with stars in your eyes, gaze trailing after her every move like you were a sunflower and she was the sun. And even though lots of people have looked at her that way, you were the only one she looked back at. It made Tashi’s skin buzz with something she’d never felt outside of tennis. 

She was swept away for pictures and press before she could talk to you, but there was a party later that night thrown in honor of the players at the club's banquet hall. Tashi was standing at the bar when you slid up next to her, introducing yourself with adoration swirling in your eyes and a shy smile on your glossy lips. Tashi let herself smile right back as she shook your hand for a little longer than normal.

Two hours later and she had you in one of the hall’s many bathrooms with your Dior dress hiked up around your hips and her tongue on your pussy. She can still remember every detail of that moment. The fruity notes of your perfume, the way you tasted, how sweetly you moaned her name with your voice so breathy and desperate.

Tashi Duncan doesn’t get on her knees for anyone, but she did for you. After that night she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d let you slip away from her.

Now, as she pushed open the locker room door and saw you sitting on the long bench in the center of the room, just like always, she felt a surge of possessiveness and longing. The sight of you waiting for her, so patient and devoted, made something dangerously close to love burn hot in her chest.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, standing up to greet her. You’re wearing one of her shirts, DUNCANATOR stretched across your chest in blocky red letters.

She dropped her bag at her feet, quickly crossing the room until she was close enough to pull you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. She was still sweaty but you didn’t care, arms coming up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I missed you,” she murmured, her voice a little too intense, her grip a little too tight. 

You laugh, your hands giving her shoulders a tiny squeeze. “It’s only been like an hour, Tash.” 

An hour felt like a whole year to her at this point. Tashi hated being away from you, hated not knowing what you were doing, who you were with, what you were thinking. She wanted to be the center of your world, just like you were so quickly becoming the center of hers. Steadily elbowing tennis inch by inch just to try and make enough room in her heart for something else. 

Tashi pulled away from you, taking a second to scan her eyes over your face. You were so beautiful, so perfect and sweet for her. She raised her hand to cup the side of your face, thumb swiping across the skin of your cheekbone a few times. You were flushed from sitting out in the sun, skin warm and soft to the touch.

She leans in without thinking, pressing her lips against yours. You taste like coconut lip balm and Pepsi. Tashi’s hand tightens its hold on your waist, pulling you in impossibly closer. She felt you sigh contently against her lips, lazily kissing back as easy as anything. Tashi felt like if she focused hard enough, that she could feel your heartbeat pounding where your chest met hers.

She swipes her tongue across your bottom lip, her hands making their way down to the small of your back to slip her fingertips under the waistband of your shorts. Your lips parted the slightest bit before you were pulling away with a small whine, pushing off her shoulders to create distance between the two of you. Tashi let her hands fall from your body as you take a small step backwards, immediately missing the warmth you took with you.

She was confused by the sudden shift in your mood until she saw the look on your face. The absolute picture of guilt, your brows furrowed enough to make a tiny crease in the middle of your forehead with your lip drawn between your teeth. Your eyes are droopy and sad as you wearily gaze at her from a few feet away. Tashi suppresses the overwhelming urge to sigh, brow raised as she stares back at you, waiting.

“I…” you trail off, wrapping your arms around yourself slowly. “I actually needed to talk to you, Tashi.”

‘Here we go.’ She thinks dryly, internally rolling her eyes. She can already tell she’s going to have to talk you down, again. She really should have expected this, you bringing up Patrick, you’ve done it enough times to be a trend. It’s been so long since the last time you said anything she was hoping you finally dropped it, apparently not.

Tashi doesn’t respond right away, just tilting her head slightly as she watches you. You shuffle uncomfortably in place, your eyes looking anywhere but her. She can see you take a steadying breath, trying to hype yourself up before you speak again.

“This is wrong,” Your voice is unconvincing, meek and soft. Tashi would laugh if she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. “What we’re doing, it’s wrong. It’s not fair to poor Patrick.”

It’s almost funny, how genuine you're being, how bad you truly feel for Patrick.

Poor, poor Patrick. Yeah fucking right. 

‘Poor Patrick’ is on tour right now probably sticking his dick in anyone that’ll let him. He’s nothing. A momentary lapse in judgment when you and Tashi went a few weeks without talking. She was hurt and vulnerable, two things she’s not used to feeling. She needed to feel in control of something again to stop her from going crazy, Patrick was easy enough.

When the two of you started talking again, she shut that shit down immediately. She was reminded of what a monumental waste of time Patrick is and pushed him to the furthest, most unimportant corner of her brain. She didn’t need him anymore, not when she had you again.

Tashi finally lets out a small sigh, more out of impatience than exasperation. She steps closer, her gaze hardening. "You really think he cares?" Her voice is low, controlled, but there's an edge to it. "Patrick doesn't need your pity. He's fine. He always is."

Your eyes widen at her words, the guilt on your face deepening. "But—"

“No.” Tashi cuts you off sharply, jaw set stubbornly. “Listen to me, Patrick is nothing. He’s just dick. He’ll never be more than just dick.” She takes another step towards you, closing the gap you made. “He doesn’t care about us, about this.” She motions between the two of you, her voice raising slightly as she speaks.

You swallow hard, arms tightening around yourself defensively as you stare at her with watery eyes. 

Tashi's whole demeanor softens, the anger draining from her body at the hurt look on your face. She would never speak to you like that, it’s just Patrick that really pisses her off. He’s not even here and he’s still managing to fuck with her. She steps even closer, her hand reaching out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to look at her. 

Your name falls from her lips, warm and wrapped in velvet, her thumb traces along your bottom lip slowly. "We have something real," she whispers fiercely, grip tightening on your chin just a fraction. "Something he could never understand. Don't let him ruin that. Don't let him ruin us."

You nod slowly, eyes big and shiny with unshed tears. It’s not good enough, Tashi can tell that you’re still apprehensive. You’re still worried, still guilty even with her reassurance. She can’t have that. If she doesn’t get you to drop this, you’ll let it consume you enough to try something stupid, like leaving her. Tashi refuses to let that even be an option.

If she can’t convince you with words, she can convince you through her actions. 

Tashi needs to drive home the point that sparing Patrick’s feelings isn’t something you need to be worried about, clearly tough love isn’t going to work on you. If she has to get on her knees to help make you understand, then she will.

She leans in slowly, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your breath catches slightly, held for only a second before you finally relax. Not completely, just enough for her to feel it. She keeps going, dragging kisses from your cheek up to your ear.

“Patrick is nothing compared to you.” she whispers directly into your ear, dropping your chin to start sliding her hand slowly down your front. “You’re so much better than him,” her hand stops at the hem of your shorts, tugging the button open with one sharp yank. You gasp sharply, hand flying up to grip her bicep tightly. Your eyes flick to the door, open and unlocked, but you’re not pushing her away, not trying to stop her. 

Tashi leans down, trailing kissing across the soft skin of your throat. “You’re everything.” She slips her hand into your shorts and down the front of your soft panties, her fingertips barely graze the slick skin of your pussy before you’re moaning.

“Fuck.” your hand squeezes her arm tighter, nails digging little crescent moons into her skin as she slides her index finger through the wetness gathering at your entrance. 

You’re so wet, completely drenching her hand in seconds. She teases you, barely pushing her finger past your tight hole as she licks a dirty stripe up the center of your throat. You whine, a desperate, too loud noise that bounces off the walls. Slowly, she breaches your entrance, sinking her finger up to the knuckle in the tight warmth of your pussy.

She watches you, takes in the needy look on your pretty face. So worked up for a single finger, so desperate for it that your hips cant down to get her deeper inside you. The wet squelch of her finger thrusting in and out of you sounds even dirtier, amplified by the room's echo. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Her tone is soft but final, like she’s stating a fact. She stares at you as she fucks her finger faster in and out of your fluttering pussy, gaze intense and unwavering. You stare back like a deer in headlights, silent except for the sharp pants falling from your slick, parted lips. That’s okay, you don’t need to do any of the talking anyway.

Tashi nips at the sensitive skin of your collarbone once before she’s dropping to her knees on the cold concrete. Her greedy hands gripping the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs roughly, your lilac panties quickly follow. You gasp sharply, the cool air of the room hitting your bare pussy. “Tash-” 

Tashi cuts you off, leaning forward to slip your clit between her lips. You throw your head back, your loud moan echoing through the room. She swirls her tongue over the sensitive skin of your clit, exactly how you like it. You’re already so worked up, she knows this won’t take long.

Her mouth works you over expertly, licking and sucking and mouthing hungrily at your dripping pussy. She teases the tip of her tongue along your clenching hole, so desperate to be filled by the strap sitting in a old box on the highest shelf of her closet. Her thighs clench at the thought, you bouncing on her dick, wrecked and spent on the sheets of her bed. She pushes the idea to the back of her mind, you always have later for that. Right now, she’s focused on making you come on her tongue. 

Tashi can tell you’re getting close. Your breathing changes, gets heavier, even more little moans and whines falling from your lips each time her nose presses against your clit just right. Your fingers slide into her hair as you start to roll your hips, chasing her mouth. 

“God, Tashi–!” Your thighs shake on either side of her head, hands twisting her hair in your grip roughly. “Shit, yes–fuck! I’m gonna come–” Your hips start to grind against her tongue even faster as you got closer to the edge.

Tashi lets you use her face to get off, her hands sliding up and down the side of your thighs soothingly as you come. She works you through your orgasm, her tongue sliding along your sensitive skin until you’re physically pulling her away.

Tashi presses one last kiss to your hip before she stands, pulling your shorts and panties back up your legs as she does. You’re still trying to catch your breath, leaning up against the lockers as she buttons your zipper for you. Your face is flushed and sweaty, your eyes are glossed over and hazy. She smiles, giving you a soft kiss with your release still coating her lips and tongue. You kiss back regardless, slow and sweet like molasses. 

Tashi pulls away first, giving your cheek a quick tap before stepping away to pick up her bag up off the floor. “Come on,” she offers you her hand, nodding her head towards the door. “Let’s go get frozen yogurt.” 

You smile, making your way across the room to slide your hand into hers. Tashi goes to push the door open, but you stay in place, tugging her hand back. When she turns to face you, there’s a look on your face she hasn’t seen before. “You’re everything too.” 

Your tone is so sincere, so genuine that she feels her heart grow three sizes. Your eyes sparkle as you stare at her like she’s a God. It’s exactly what she wanted. She smiles, giving your hand a hard squeeze and finally dragging you out of the locker room.

Duncan: Game, Set, Match.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[sahind]

“I see possible futures all at once, and in so many futures, our enemies prevail, but I do see a way. There is a narrow way through.“ DUNE: PART TWO (2024) Directed by Denis Villeneuve

[jclolz22]

multi bot release — 25 bots for 2025

thank you for 777 (this originally said 700+ so you can see the growth i've had even while plotting this release) followers on c.ai!! and thank you all for the continued support!! it truly means so, so much to me, and i'm very excited to finally be releasing more bots, and i hope you enjoy!

everyone cheer because i actually did 10+ of my requests

this has been in the making for a little over a couple weeks now, and it’s upped to 25 thanks to @w4dows and her genius idea of doing 25 bots for the upcoming year! it was a lot but i loved doing it with you <3

they're listed in alphabetical order (like always) and categorized by the movie/show that they’re from.

includes: challengers, glee, grey's anatomy, misc. (bridgerton, moana 2, twilight, wicked)

p.s. to all my gleeks, i see you and this is glee heavy for that very reason <33

p.p.s to everyone— there may be a bit of scrolling, but please get to the bottom so you don't miss a bot you may like! :)

CHALLENGERS

ART DONALDSON —  PREGNANT (REQ.)

Getting engaged to Art is a fairly recent milestone for the two of you, but what will happen when he finds your positive pregnancy test in the garbage and he confronts you about it?

ART DONALDSON — STEAM ROOM

Art always loves spending time in the steam room after a long week of practice. He didn’t expect to encounter you there, but he’s not complaining. Will your old flame be rekindled when there’s nothing separating you except for a couple of towels?

ART DONALDSON & TASHI DUNCAN — MEETING THE EX (REQ.)

You and Art started dating shortly after his divorce with Tashi was finalized. How will you finally meeting her go? Will you still be with him afterward, or will she pawn you off of him?

PATRICK ZWEIG — MOM OVER ME

Patrick is your husband, but what does that mean to you? After all, he isn’t even your emergency contact, even though you're his. Your mom is still yours, regardless of the fact that you've been married for a few years now. (inspired by @fruitjoos fic ‘‘emergency contact’’)

TASHI DUNCAN — FAN CLUB

Tashi was surprised to find out that you didn’t know much about her, or tennis in general, for that matter. It was even more surprising (and annoying) when she showed up on move-in day to see that you were going to be her roommate this year.

TASHI DUNCAN — FIELD OF LILIES  

Your anniversary is coming up shortly after your daughter's fourth birthday. To celebrate, you decided to surprise the two of them with a field of lilies— the same one where you proposed to Tashi six years ago.

TASHI DUNCAN — MALL SANTA (🌲)

This is Lily’s first Christmas, and Tashi is making sure to pull out all the stops, including taking her to the mall to get pictures with Santa. Sure, the one year old may not remember this, but you and Tashi will, and she wants it to be special, just like it was when she was growing up.

GLEE

MARLEY ROSE - AWOKEN (REQ.)

Marley didn't know that her feelings for you surpassed friendship until she realized that her feelings for Jake and Ryder were nothing close to romantic. She doesn't know why she never realized it before, but she won't give up her chance now.

MARLEY ROSE — MEAN GIRL (REQ.)

Marley is the sweetest girl alive, yet you’re still mean to her. She can’t figure out why you’re so cold and callous when she hasn’t done anything wrong. It's now up to you to fix the mess that you unintentionally made.

MARLEY ROSE — SECRETLY SOFT (REQ.)

You’ve got a reputation of being some kind of punk. Essentially, you’re the female equivalent to Puck, except you’re not a homewrecker like he is. No one knows that the only person you’re all sweet and nice with is Marley, and she’s the only one who knows you’re even like that at all.

QUINN FABRAY — BIG CHANGES (REQ.)

Quinn's image has changed since having Beth and giving her up for adoption. Has it been for the better? The verdict is not yet decided, but you've been by her side for a while now, and you don't plan on leaving just because she's changed her look. She's still the same Quinn Fabray you know and love.

QUINN FABRAY — BORN THIS WAY… OR NOT (REQ.)

Quinn was confronted by Lauren about her past, and she knew she couldn’t let you hear about it from anyone else. Word would spread quickly, and she didn’t want you to know her truth from the rumor mill.

QUINN FABRAY — BUNNY!

You're originally a farm girl, even though Quinn couldn't believe it. Your city life doesn't do much to prove your roots, so you decided to take her back home to the family farm, where she quickly makes a new furry friend.

SANTANA LOPEZ — HIDDEN MOMENTS (REQ.)

You and Santana have been together for a few months now, and even though no one knows, you two couldn't be happier. Sometimes, all it takes to make your day better is just being with her in bed. You don't even have to be doing anything except lying there.

SANTANA LOPEZ — NURSE’S ORDERS (inspired by @mportality)

You've fallen sick and your girlfriend wants to help nurse you back to health, despite your pleas for her to keep away from you so she doesn't get sick herself. Besides, it's an excuse to wear that hot nurse costume you love so much.

SANTANA LOPEZ — ROOMMATES AND EXES (REQ.)

Santana showing up at your New York apartment unexpectedly was... rather surprising. Maybe not so much if she was a friend, but the fact that she's your ex-girlfriend makes it a little more unusual. She's been moved in for a few months, and you can't help but constantly think about your past relationship. Now, you're sitting in the living room with her on the opposite end of the couch, silence engulfing the space.

GREY’S ANATOMY

ADDISON MONTGOMERY — BUT YOU CHEATED

Addison won’t stop trying to get you back, even if she’s in the wrong. She knows she messed up by cheating on you, so why can’t you just accept her apology? Or better yet, why doesn't she accept the fact that you can't forgive her so easily?

DEREK SHEPHERD — GINGERBREAD HOUSES (REQ. /🌲)

Making and decorating gingerbread houses with you and your kids is a dream come true for Derek. He couldn't ask for a more domestic scene, and he doesn't think anything will top this.

DEREK SHEPHERD — I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS (🌲)

So maybe it was a bad idea to not keep forcing Derek to change out of the Santa Claus suit he wore in order to put the gifts under the tree in case Zola or Bailey saw him. Their screams were unexpected and frightening before you realized why exactly they had screamed.

DEREK SHEPHERD — WALKING AWAY

Derek didn’t want to compete anymore; if Finn was the one who had your heart, then he’d accept that and let it be. You couldn't believe it, though. The Derek Shepherd accepting (choosing, even) defeat? What is wrong with him?

JO WILSON — DODGING (REQ.)

You and Jo clearly have feelings for each other, but you both keep avoiding addressing them. It's obvious to everyone except for the two of you, and Arizona is tired of seeing you fail to work up the courage to talk to Jo, so she sticks you in a room together and locks you in.

MISC.

ALICE CULLEN - DIFFERENT WORLDS (REQ.)

Alice is a vampire, and you're a werewolf. You're not supposed to interact with each other, let alone date. But neither of you can help yourselves; the mutual attraction is too strong to ignore, meaning you couldn’t care less what your brother might think.

FIYERO TIGELAAR — SET FREE

Fiyero is the only one not affected by the flowers in class, and even though you thought he didn’t want to help you, he tagged along anyway. The tension is thick between the two of you, so how will you both approach it?

MATANGI — CRAZY BAT LADY  (REQ.) @lotties-ashwagandha i’m sorry it took forever!

Matangi thought you’d leave her behind and forget about her after breaking the curse on Motufetū, but you proved her wrong. She feels a sense of obligation to pay you back, but how is she going to do such a thing?

SIMON BASSET — WEDDING NIGHT  

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the tension is thick. Simon thinks that you’re in this marriage against your will, while you think the same regarding him. Neither of you have realized that for so long, you have burned for one another. After such an admittance, what more is there to do than consummate the marriage? It helps that he gave you such valuable advice earlier on...

[nectarishes]

n*tflix teen coming of age series where a side character with two lines of dialogue gets expanded on in a separate novel and becomes one of the most popular ships with the main character. or something

[bluespirlt]

this au is just writing itself at this point

[thena0315]

[yourartur]

Alien Superstar 💫

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[diyasgarden]

goddess

"what am i, jesus?" "yeah"

(tashi duncan x f!reader)

The essay is crumpled by the time you reach Tashi. 

The infirmary is a small building; plain and tucked away between some trees at the far end of campus. Simultaneously inconspicuous and irrelevant. At best an after-thought, only identifiable from the words “health center” plastered across the front. 

It’s surprising you didn’t miss it, and you can’t help but feel indignant at the fact that this is where they brought her. But the feeling is quickly washed away with the growing sense of dread that gnaws at your chest. 

Abruptly, you’re hit with the idea that you’d walk in to not find her at all. That there would be no sign of her existence within those four walls. It’s illogical and unfounded, but the thought lingers as you force yourself to the door.

You have a faint memory of meeting Tashi. A blurry recollection of bumping into her at the dining hall and a vague outline of the conversation that followed. The only thing you actually remember are noticing her hands.

It wasn’t anything physical about them that drew your attention. You couldn’t care less about how they actually looked, you were captivated by her movement. Instinctive yet deliberate. As if every action was simultaneously spontaneous and methodical. A dichotomy that gave each motion an innate intensity. A power hidden in the folds of the universe, which only she could reach. 

You didn’t have to watch Tashi play to know she’s special, you just had to watch her hands. 

You knew that from that first moment alone. 

The rubber soles of your sneakers squeak against the tiles as you walk into the room, your breath coming out in short little pants from the run. Your hands flex against the papers in your hands, as a breath of relief slips out upon seeing her. 

Tashi sits on the cot, eyebrows knitted pensively with a frown staring at the brick wall in front of her. Her arms are crossed against her chest, heaving in a melancholic rhythm. For a moment you expect her to scream on the top of her lungs or burst out crying, but she remains stoic.

Her knee is wrapped in what looks to be yards of gauze that is blinding under the overhead fluorescent lights. It beckons your attention with its unsettling glow and you drift to it’s call, your vision flooded with white. 

In the periphery of your view you see a tan movement, followed by the noise of a soft shuffle. Your eyes instantly dart back up to Tashi to see that she is already looking at you, her eyes slightly red and swollen.

Your heart drops. 

You want to carve your knee from its socket with your bare hands and leave it beside her. Give it to her as a replacement. If you could, you’d do it. Maybe give her your whole leg if that is what she wanted. It’s not even a question.   

You told Tashi you’d be late earlier in the week, during one of your yoga sessions. An important part of her routine she roped you into. And while you had no real interest in yoga, you also had no interest in ever denying her. Struggling through asanas was unimportant.

“He said he wanted me to stay a bit after class to talk about my paper,” you explained, voice somewhat strained from holding your breath and hands slightly trembling from trying to keep yourself in downward dog. 

She came down onto the mat beside you, releasing the position into a sitting one. Her hands moved to your waist, gently coaxing you into the proper formation and you exhaled instantly at the contact. “He didn’t say about what?” she questioned absently, preoccupied with your pose.

Your professor had a tendency to be vague via email, one of those people who never truly started trusting the internet. As a result his emails were brief and unintentionally ominous. This one simply read: 

Hello,  Please stay after next class to talk about your mid-semester paper.  Sincerely,  Professor Thatcher

“Just that he wanted to talk about my paper” you responded as her hands moved away from your body, a sense of loss pooling in your stomach. “I’ll just be a bit late to your game,” you frowned, coming down onto your own mat to sit beside her. 

Tashi shrugged, as she moved her foot to rest on the opposite thigh. “You’ll come after?” she said, adjusting her other leg in the same way, settling into the lotus pose. 

“Of course,” you responded without thought, and caught her eyes flick up to yours with a half smirk on her lips before falling back to your lap. Her hands reach towards you and she begins to move your legs as well.

“What class is it again?” she asked, also contorting you into a lotus. A futile effort, although that doesn’t deter her. 

“Asian religions"

She hummed, getting you halfway into the pose. Her gaze pulled away from your lap back up to your face with the same half-smirk. “I swear you do more for this elective than any other class,” she remarks amused.

“Who realized religion is complex?” you sarcastically retorted, a smirk on your own lips now. She laughed in response and little wrinkles formed at the edge of her eyes, the sight turning your smirk into a soft smile. It dipped to a frown as soon as you remembered what the conversation was about in the first place.

You were flippant with routine. Always eager to skip a class and never the one to follow your parents to mass every weekend. But you were always consistent with her games. Routine was only mundane without her.

Tashi’s hand reached to push a lock of hair behind your ears. “It’s only one match,” she whispered looking into your mind. You took in a deep breath and met her gentle eyes, the disappointment morphing into a knot in your chest. The sense of dread lingered as she smiled softly. “How interesting can playing Pepperdine be anyway?” 

The dramatic irony isn’t lost on you, it’s just too tragic to acknowledge. 

You should have taken the knot in your chest as a premonition. 

Her hands tremble. A small, involuntary motion that makes you feel ill. 

You’re seated across from where Tashi is on the cot. You ache to be closer, but the only seat next to her is already occupied by Art. Somehow having wormed his way into a place he doesn’t deserve. 

Like always, his presence and proximity bother you, but there is also a small joy in the fact that it is only Art. Tashi had told you Patrick was visiting for the game, but at the moment was nowhere to be seen. You don’t ask about him either, not one to question small blessings.

Only the sound of breathing fills the poky space. Art is watching you, probably as vexed by your presence as you of his.

(Sometimes you wonder if all the Apostles quietly despised each other as well. You’d understand why.)

You don’t have to turn to already see the impassive expression on his face, so your eyes remain glued to Tashi’s hands. Watching the little erratic tremors as you bit back nausea. There is no fluidity to the uncontrolled movement. It’s just hollow. 

“What’d he say?” Tashi suddenly asks, breaking the unnerving silence. There is an inflection in her voice which is both bitter and pained, an aftertaste of the day’s events. There is nothing to indicate the tone is directed towards you, but you flinch anyway. 

“Huh?” you mumble, not having processed her words. 

“Your professor,” she starts with an exhale. “What’d he say about your paper?” 

Your eyes dart down to the wrinkled papers on your lap, thumb pressing down on one specific crinkle in the vain attempt to straighten it. It feels insignificant. The essay. The professor. Pointless to even think about, much less discuss. 

When you look back up, you see Tashi is looking at you with a desperate wide-eyed interest. She bites the inside of her cheek in unsettled anticipation and it dawns on you that she is trying to fill the room with something besides the obvious torment. Without much of a thought, you murmur “Something about nuance.” 

“Nuance?” she questions, a vain attempt to continue the conversation. 

You nod in response. The interaction is blurry, the moment charged with the desire to leave the game and the memory clouded with the panic of finding out about the injury once you did. But you remember him mentioning nuance. “He told me I needed to be more nuanced,” you repeat, with another small nod in her direction. 

“What was the paper on?” Art asks, also picking up on her need for a distraction. 

You swallow, pushing some hair back from your face, “the living goddesses of Nepal.” 

Kumari was the actual term. A connection between humanity and the divine was how Professor Thatcher described them. “An incarnation of the celestial for a few years,” he said in lecture, although you didn’t catch anything after that. Drifting off by then, your mind already thinking of someone else. 

You’re grateful that Art doesn’t probe on why you chose the topic. Although, you’re sure he would have understood.

You think anyone who knew Tashi would. 

You told her once. 

“You’re like god,” you whispered to her drunk in the living room of Kappa something, too drunk from whatever concoction made by the frat brothers for their Halloween party. You were dressed as a cat, fallen to the ground while dancing inebriated, and clinging onto the soft, white fabric of Tashi’s angel costume as she tried to help you stand. You looked up to her, blinded by the flashing lights of the room and her radiance, and whispered those three words like a prayer. 

She had no verbal response, just pulling you up with a small smile and soft laugh. Her hands moved from your arms to your cheeks, gently cupping your face and tilting it.

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

The infirmary has settled into another, heavier silence. There is no sound loud enough to fill the space. None of you try. 

Her hands still tremble. 

The paramedics arrive eventually, whisking Tashi off to a proper hospital for examination. You take the name of where she’s gone and walk to your dorm, using your essay as a stressball as you plan on how to visit her the next morning.

A wave of exhaustion hits you the minute you cross the threshold into the room, and you walk straight to the bed. The tiredness sinks into your bones when you sit down. The day's events smothering you at once as your fingers play with the corner of the page.

You look down at the shriveled papers in your hand and take your first proper look at it all night. Red pen scribbled all throughout, little notes on grammar and word choice, but at the heading in all caps is written WHAT ABOUT THE AFTER?

Oh right. That’s what he said.

“It’s an informative paper, just…” Professor Thatcher started when you went up to him after class. His voice trailed off as he debated the right word, finally deciding, “just a stale one.” 

“Stale?”

“You lack nuance,” he clarified, with a flick of his wrist, looking back down to the red marking on the paper.

Your eyes darted to the clock on the wall and then back to him. “I mean…how much nuance is there…” you said with a forced smile, a weak attempt at a joke to resolve the conversation and leave for the game.

If he noticed the attempt, he made no comment. “You don’t consider the after,” he remarks, looking back up to you. His eyes narrowed as you snuck another look at the clock. 

“The after?”

“Yes,” he reiterated. “The after.”

“What... after?” you asked, eyes flicking to the clock once again.

“Well you mention how they lose their status after puberty, but don’t actually talk about their life…sans godhood,” he explained, watching you carefully. Daring you to look back at the clock.

You weren’t present enough in the moment to process what he was saying, but felt the need to defend your work anyway. “Well..when you’re worshiped like that…i don’t think you can just let it go…it’s what everyone knows you for”

“Exactly.”

You waited for him to say more, but were only left with an awkward silence. Your eyes darted to the clock once more, and heard a scoff like noise from his direction. He pushed paper into your hands and with a hint of irritation said, “Just re-write it based on the feedback I wrote. Give it back to me next week.”

You left the next second without a second thought.

WHAT ABOUT THE AFTER?

The words are a taunt.

You put the paper down on the bedside table and let your exhaustion carry you to sleep.

The hospital is a bus-ride away from campus. You’re on it by the time the sun starts to rise, trying pointlessly to distract yourself with the sky’s pinkish hues. 

It’s a large hospital, but it doesn’t take much to find Tashi. You tell the lady at the front desk her name, and her face flashes with recognition. She points you in the direction to go and sends you off. 

Three minutes and an elevator ride later, you stand in front of her hospital room. You knock on the door out of courtesy, but quickly push yourself in, unable to handle the distance anymore. 

Tashi is laying on the hospital bed looking out the window. There are dark circles around her eyes and her lips a fine straight line. Her head shifts to acknowledge your presence, before she turns back to the window. 

You don’t move a muscle. 

Your mind goes back to when she kissed your forehead at the Halloween party. She spun you after that, dancing to the music with her in your arms. You clung onto her to keep yourself upright. 

If it wasn’t for her, you would have fallen. 

“They took a couple x-rays” she begins, finally breaking the trepid silence of the room with a low, solemn voice. She looks away from the window in your direction, without properly looking at you. 

You inhale apprehensively, swallowing slowly before you speak. “Yeah?” The question you can't bring yourself to ask lingers in the air.

She turns back to the window, watching the sun finally reaching its rightful place in the sky. Her eyes go distant and you wait for the words you fear. 

“They said I might not play again,” she whispers, eyes still on the sun. Her finger imperceptibly pulls at the sheet on the bed. Your focus is on the subtle motion, watching the way she pinches it between her thumb and index. “I might never play again,” she repeats, her voice louder as if properly hearing herself for the first time. Her brows furrow as she confronts the possibility, trying to reconcile it with everything she’s known.   

Her hands move to push back her hair in a swift, intuitive motion.

“It doesn’t change anything.” 

She lets out a shaky, humorless laugh, before turning to face you. This time your eyes lock and she gives you a small, sad smile. 

She knows what you mean. 

You both know it’s true.

authors note: about a month ago in the midst of Navaratri a frat boy ran into my friend's "Religions of Asia" class and rolled down the lecture hall as if acting out the "Jack and Jill" nursery rhyme. the incident was so off-putting to the professor he decided to turn the entire class virtual from that point on. as a result, my friend now plays his lecture videos while we eat together each Wednesday and this idea was conceived during one of those lunches (so thank you frat guy ig?). this is more experimental than anything else i've written, so i am very curious to know what you all think. i hope you enjoyed it, or at least understood what I was trying to say lol

art credit: taken from the French poster for Satyajit Ray’s Devi

[popcorntales]

Stanford shelter: Lend a Paw! |02|

context:

Every year, a group of devoted student volunteers work at Stanford Shelter to nurse abandoned animals back to health. This semester is no different, with seniors Art and YN, who have been part of the project for three years, assuming leadership roles. However, their routine is flipped on its head when the rich kid Patrick Zweig decides to volunteer unexpectedly.

|01| - |02| - |03|

AN:

This is Patrick's pov except for the very last picture!

Lot of world building right now but we'll get there!!

Thank you for all the love everyone is showing! It means a lot to me!

Thank you @asheepinfrance for picking Patrick's song😉😜

[kitkatdoodlez]

That was different, that was just you and me

[batcavescolony]

Marvel Voices Infinity Comic #8

I'm thinking about Tommy again. This is placed after Avengers Academy, we know because it says this in AA

Avengers Academy #26

After this I believe Billy and Tommy will go to become Billy Kaplan and Tommy Shepherd that's where M'kraan is taking them. But it's interesting that Tommy remembers Cresskill but Billy admits he doesn't remember, honestly it seems like Tommy knows more then Billy and that's so interesting. when they became Tommy Shepherd and Billy Kaplan will they both forget? Does Tommy Shepherd actually remember all of this? It's revealed he can do magic in AA too, did he maybe make himself not remember? Maybe he vaguely remembers cus in children's crusade he picked older twin like he knew. I need an expansion on this story like yesterday!

[amymbona]

It all makes sense now...

[castiwls]

challengers bot dump.ᐟ

art donaldson .ᐟ ౨ৎ baby daddy ౨ৎ daddy issues ౨ৎ family flights

tashi duncan .ᐟ ౨ৎ boyfriend ౨ৎ puppy

patrick zewig .ᐟ ౨ৎ coach ౨ৎ co-parenting

[pinkmoonmp3]

CHALLENGERS, 2024