Tashi Challengers - Blog Posts

camp counselor! tashi duncan hcs

WHO જ⁀➴ .. reluctantly agreed to sign up for a summer camp as camp counselors together, as a getaway (technically, it was, anyway) before she went off to stanford, and you to princeton.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. hated it the second you stepped foot on outside in the heat. she hated dealing with bugs, dirt, and uncomfortable weather. she doesn’t like the uneasiness hanging in the air—she’d heard offhand comments from locals about the camp, rumors about strange happenings in the woods.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. thought the other counselors were annoying. the feeling only grew when at the first night, while telling campfire stories, a counselor told a story about an old camp legend—something about a counselor who went mad and committed a massacre. she bit down her annoyance, her grip on your thigh tightening every time the dimwit spoke.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. tries to ignore the others, and bonds with the kids quickly. she thinks they’re adorable (although she’d never admit it. kids still bother her.. a lot). she helps them with setting up tents, and occasionally will play a campfire game with them to shut them up.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. liked to sneak out with you into the woods at night, and make out. you know a good spot with soft bushes. she’d never admit it, but sometimes the peacefulness of the woods would get to her, especially when the two of you were alone. she felt safer when it was just the two of you, away from the tension of the camp and the rumors swirling around. the quiet of the night, the rustling of leaves—she’d let herself relax for a few moments, even if it was only when she was with you.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. despite all the discomfort, liked the experience—being away from the world. she’d cling to you openly when the creepy stories got too much. it wasn’t just the physical moments in the woods that made it special—it was the sense of solidarity, the unspoken understanding that you two were in this together, whether it was dealing with the weirdness of camp or the impending separation after the summer.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. notices first. at first, it was easy to dismiss—just small, almost forgettable inconveniences. a piece of equipment would go missing, supplies would be misplaced, flashlights would flicker unexpectedly, and it was always just enough to feel like coincidence. but things escalated. campers began whispering about seeing someone standing just beyond the tree line at night. some of them insisted they heard voices after lights-out: strange, fragmented whispers that drifted through the dark. voices that didn’t sound like anyone at camp. she didn’t laugh it off like the others, she believed them. from that night on, she kept a flashlight tucked beneath her pillow—just in case.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. notices immediately when a counselor didn’t come back to their cabin. the director wrote it off as them quitting and sneaking out—but her bunk was still made, her stuff untouched. that’s when she stopped pretending everything was all stupid fun. that night, she clung tighter than usual when you snuck out to the bushes, her kisses frantic, as if she was afraid it’d be the last time.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. used to love the rain. that night, the rain fell in heavy sheets, relentless and loud, drowning out the usual chorus of insects and leaves. then came the scream. sharp, piercing, and far too close. she took off running, the mud clung to her shoes as she scurried through the downpour. she burst into your cabin, soaked and panicked, barely able to get the words out. she didn’t want to go back to the fire circle, her instincts screamed at her not to. but you two went. the scene that waited for you there still haunts her. benches knocked over like someone had fled in a hurry. scattered debris. drops of blood gleaming on the wet stone. and the axe—the one from the equipment shed—was gone. after that, the rain never felt the same again.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. quickly locked the campers in the mess hall. the power went out. and the remaining counselors—those who were alive—huddled together with flashlights. she didn’t speak much, except to grip your hand. her grip would get tighter every time you heard another scream, and the thump of a body. you two scurried off when the masked figure tore their axe through the door, ending up barricaded yourselves in the arts & crafts cabin. she had a pair of scissors gripped in her fist, and you had color pencils (sharpened, obviously. there weren't much weapons, unfortunately).

WHO જ⁀➴ .. barely had time to register the flicker of movement behind you. the figure emerged from the dark as if waiting for this moment. you shoved her behind you instinctively, yelling for her to run. the attack happened fast.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. didn’t run, not at first. she screamed, charging at the figure with her scissors. you were already on the ground, blood in your mouth, telling her to go. she didn’t want to leave you, didn’t want to believe it was happening. eventually, she did—barefoot, bloody, and grieving—until she burst into the main lodge and collapsed.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. regained consciousness with a paramedic shaking her. her vision swam as she blinked against the harsh light, her mind slow to catch up—but the first thing she did was search for you. her eyes darted frantically across the bloodied campsite, heart pounding, until the empty space where you should’ve been made her stomach drop. even as they tried to lift her onto the stretcher, she fought to stay. she insisted you were coming—that maybe you were hurt, sure, but not gone. you’d walk out of the trees any second now, bruised but grinning, like you always did.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. broke down when she learned the final death toll. fourteen lives lost, including yours. once she got home, she shut herself away in her room, swallowed by grief and shock, unable to face the world outside her door. for days, she didn’t eat, didn’t speak. just mourned. at one point, she nearly turned down her stanford scholarship, convinced she couldn’t move forward. but her parents gently pushed her to go, reminding her of everything she’d worked for. and maybe, deep down, she knew that leaving wouldn’t mean forgetting.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. carried your memory like a wound—something that never quite scabbed over. she’d stare out dorm windows at night, wondering what would’ve happened if she’d made you run with her. wondering if you’d still be alive if she’d said the camp was a stupid idea.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. shut down patrick and art immediately, still in the grieving process. she couldn’t even think about dating, when she’d lost you.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. gave up on tennis for a bit, but pushed herself to go back (after all, her scholarship was for tennis). grief clung to her like a second skin, heavy and unrelenting, but she tried to outrun it, tried to drown it out in the rhythm of serves and volleys. every morning, before the sun had fully risen, she was on the courts. and at night, long after the world had gone quiet, she was still there, chasing something she couldn’t quite name.

WHO જ⁀➴ .. let training became her ritual, her escape. with every swing of the racket, she fought to keep her sorrow at bay. when the knee injury came—sharp, sudden, and cruel—she barely flinched. the pain wasn’t as bad as the pain of losing you, in her head.

sweet ; tashi duncan

the duncanator.

that was the nickname you’d heard throughout stanford that people would use to describe tashi duncan. fierce and ambitious, with a sharp competitive streak. but, really, tashi was just your friend. silly, and witty, with a top tier fashion sense, and who knew what places served a mean cappuccino.

you could see how some people would be confused with your friendship. she’d taken you under her wing after a group project assigned to you two and a couple other people. the other students were about to let you do the work, and she was not having that.

now, the two of you were seemingly inseparable. weekly sleepovers, study hangouts, shopping sprees. you name it.

but, eventually, you started seeing a shift in your friendship. and you knew she saw it too.

lingering touches, wisty glances across the room, smiles became more pronounced whenever the other spoke. the hangouts became more frequent, silly texts were sent and responded to in seconds. but why would tashi duncan be interested in you? she would’ve answered that question for you any day. you only had to ask.

but one night.

the two of you were in her dorm for your weekly sleepover (every friday night, at 7:30 pm sharp. she’d questioned you relentlessly the one time you arrived at 7:45. never again), sharing a bowl of popcorn alongside some chocolate bars. tashi had her arm around your shoulders, keeping you tucked in her side. casual, right?

she’s the man was playing, and she would let out a scoff every five seconds. “this movie is so stupid.” she murmured after a moment, her grip on your shoulders tightening for a second before letting it go. “what, you don’t think channing tatum’s cute?” you flashed an amused look.

a slight pause. “he’s.. okay. i guess.” her gaze flickered to the tv in front of you two, seemingly looking for any flaws she could see outright on the man displayed. “too bulky.” she stated bluntly after a moment, her thumb rubbing your shoulder softly. you laughed, shaking your head. “your standards are way too high, tash.” a playfully shove in response.

“i hate you.” she replied, an almost teasing tone lacing her voice as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “the feeling’s mutual.” you grinned, taking a candy bar and nibbling on it. “i doubt it.” she retorted, the words followed with a light laugh. she pulled you closer to her, resting her chin on top of your head.

tashi was completely comfortable with you this close to her, your head resting on her shoulder, and her arm around your own. it was as if the two of you were meant to be like this. “she looks nothing like her brother. everyone in this movie is either stupid or blind.” she huffed. “c’mon. this is peak cinema.” you teased, lightly taking hold on her chin and pinching it lightly.

oh.

her heart felt like it had stopped at your touch. her annoyed expression turned into a soft, almost amused one as she leaned into your touch. “i’d hardly call this peak. or even cinema, for that matter.” she murmured in response, lifting her hand to gently take yours from her chin, intertwining your fingers with her own. she brought your interlocked hands to her lap, her gaze still holding yours.

“not a fan of cheesy rom-coms?” you teased, keeping your hands intertwined. her eyes flickered over yours, and she hummed softly. “nah.” she rolled my eyes playfully. another pause. tashi almost looked in awe, as she looked you over. you enchanted her, and she knew you had her heart held securely in the palm of your hand.

“not when they’re as cheesy as this one.” she said, her gaze flicking around your face. a pause at your lips. “i mean..” she trailed off, snapping out of it as she met your gaze once again. “it’s just weird. the plot in itself. why is cps not at her mom’s door?” she scrunched her nose in distaste.

“good point.” you hummed, turning your attention back to the screen. her gaze flickered back to you once you weren’t looking, admiring your profile. “..hey.” she spoke up hesitantly, almost as if the word escaped against her will. you turned back to face her. “yeah, tash?” you tilted your head. her fingers tightened her grip on yours for a moment, and she opened her mouth, then closed it. you felt a smile grace your lips.

god, her heart almost ached.

her expression turned tender as she returned the smile, closing the distance very slightly. it was subtle, but you both noticed it. “i just..” she trailed off, her gaze piercing into yours. she bit her lip, her eyes slowly trailing down to your lips once again. “mhm?” your smile widened, and you inched closer just the slightest bit. she leaned closer, trying to capture your mouth with her own.

she let out a soft sigh at the feeling of your lips against hers. as if she had been waiting for this. yearning, almost. she let go of your hand, taking hold of your waist and tugging you onto her lap. she almost couldn't get enough of you, and her expression was tender as she kissed you, oh so gently.

she broke the kiss, shifting to rest her forehead against yours as she breathed heavily. her hand traced gentle lines on the skin of your thighs, and a small, almost shy, smile tugged at the corners of her lips. she let out a soft laugh, looking down at where you were perched onto her lap, and let her free hand go up to lightly rest under your chin, making you look up at her. her thumb lightly swept across your bottom lip, and her gaze was just as tender as her touch.

tashi said nothing for a moment, her gaze just lingering on you, taking you in. “how long?” you questioned, smiling at her touch. a rare flush filled her cheeks, her expression turning into an almost shy one as she stared down at you. she let out an amused laugh under her breath, her voice quiet and almost embarrassed when she responded, “..a while.”

you laughed along with her, pressing another kiss to her nose. “me too.” you smiled, feeling your heart flutter. “you’re a good kisser.” you admitted, fighting back a giggle. she rolled her eyes playfully, tugging on a strand of your hair lightly. “so are you.” she hummed, and felt herself smile as you pressed a kiss to her nose.

if anyone thought the two of you were inseparable before, now it was way worse. whenever you roamed the hallways, she was right by your side, her hand taking hold of yours. tennis matches? you were there, front row with a stupid t-shirt that said ‘i support the duncanator!’ in bright red lettering. weekly sleepovers were now every two days.

and honestly? she couldn't be happier. she had all that could ever want, with you.