#Summer Training Camp Event

[dandyshucks]

anyways I think hiz.ashi is underrated in the fandom and I don't understand why ppl do not love him just as much as ai.zawa ,,, I do not interact w the fandom rly at all but every time i take a peek into that fandom I'm always sad that ppl don't give the radio man the love that I thought they would :[

I guess I'll just have to do it myself :]

[teabiscs]

hot take: i use mr dickinson to play match maker way too much.

[tallackdojo]

Hanshi Ken Tallack invites YOU to the 2024 Summer Budo Camp!

Hanshi Ken Tallack invites YOU to the 2024 Summer Budo Camp! Get ready for Seminar Training & Lectures, Meals, and Accommodations offered all in one Budo Camp!

We are pleased to invite you back to Kingston to a new edition of the Summer Training Festival, the all-in-one Summer Budo Camp! Please read carefully below for details on registration, accommodations, and meals. Registration is now open! Join us on June 7th, 8th, & 9th at St. Lawrence College – Gymnasium, 100 Portsmouth Ave, Kingston, ON Get ready for 7 HOURS of INTENSIVE TRAINING…

[animeweeb115]

[raceweek]

hello. alexalblondo's rude anon coming here to humbly and politely beg for galex primer because i dont understand their history. george said he lived at alex's family's house at one point? how - weren't they already racing? sorry thank you humble thank you 🙏🙏

hello!!! thanks chris for the referral FKFJDKD

i have overwhelmed my alex and george tags so much that i fear i could never capture all of it but my galex key moment anthology is under the cut!!

karting/early single seaters

Alex thinks they met in 2011 but the footage in georges flip phone says he knew alex back in 2009.

Their first actual interaction (so far as they've told the world) was when alex was world champion with the intrepid karting team and bc he was their reference driver he was asked to help pick the drivers who were quick to replace him when he moved up and he picked george (and charles) so they were then part of that same intrepid driver programme for a while. Interestingly, alex was always at least one year above him bc of their ages and george says the fact they didn't really race directly against each other before 2016 was probably why they became such good friends.

They did a deep dive of their camera rolls from this time on twitch a couple years back and talked about the oldest pictures they have of each other in their camera rolls (1:25:36) which was cute.

2017

2017 is the year george basically lived with alex. They were also sharing a trainer whilst alex was competing in gp2 and george was in gp3. George was doing mercedes sim work at their factory so rented a flat in milton keynes near where alex lived but according to alex that rent was wasted money bc george had more meals at alexs' house than he did that year. Also as detailed in those links, the Great Mountain Biking Incident of 2017 occurred at this time so we have the fun mental image of george literally wheeling alex into a&e on a wheelchair bc that is an actual event that happened.

2018

George and alex both in f2 fighting for the title year wooooo!! They never really fought on track but we did get fun tidbits like when alex pipped george to the win at silverstone bc george had a slow pit stop and giggled about it in parc ferme (5:42) & these post session interviews.

also some incredible photoshoots.

2019

Promotion to f1!!! We started the year at winter testing and this nugget that they have both accepted that they are actually tied together by the strings of fate. They're doing fun media stuff like karting and bullying each other over percentage of apexs hit at the skypad (video). 2019 also the start of the umbrella sharing. They were just together a lot… more skypad analysis!!!

2019 also has MY personal favourite galex moment which was hockenheim 2019 and the 45 minute phone call galex had on the way home after george missed out on scoring what would have been his first point in f1 and only point of the season.

There was also the summer break and enjoying a training camp together, exchanging infections etc. Alex also took george to meet lily for the first time, bc that’s a normal thing to do.

There was also the rookie of the year vid, and the rookie season review vid at the end of the year. Much was happening.

2020

The year started with f1 trying to race during a global pandemic. Fun! On the singular media day before everyone realised just how stupid that was they were being annoying. The lockdowns did give us the twitch streams. George was initially so bad at virtual racing he had to secretly consult alex's brother for help behind alexs back. George was also actively seeking alex out like a missile at any given opportunity and at one point felt necessary to declare that he wasn't alexs boyfriend when someone asked if alex was going to be streaming that day. Anyway my lockdown twitchscapades tag has a post with a playlist of all the streams that haven't been lost or deleted if you want to feel joy and have a spare million hours.

Racing resumed in July with the covid team bubbles and within two races and one qualifying session george was defending alexs honour to sky sports and the world in a truly remarkable fashion.

At the end of the year alex was unemployed....even more tragic than this loss was that alexs career difficulties were so extreme he started ghosting george, which devastated him to the extent he needed to publicly drag him for it.

There was also george asking lily to post alexs n*des on instagram and lily responding with if anyone has them it would be you which was perhaps the last time george had access to his own social media password.

Despite george not liking it they celebrated alexs first podium by going golfing! and reverse! George was also gifted an alex albon signed autograph card for christmas and said that he'll put it somewhere special x

2021

The beginning of 2021 was during lockdown and there was more fun virtual gps except the only two drivers doing it were george and alex so they were just bitching and gossiping and threatening to steal strategies and abu dhabi 2016 each other. Particular shoutout to the time they had a virtual race on valentines day and alex put a suit on for it and george was baffled. Immediately after valentines day was georges birthday which lily used to thank george for letting her borrow his boyfriend from time to time.

Then the season started with george enduring the season alexless and not letting anyone forget about it. Alex was turning up to races after being locked in the simulator until the early hours posting stuff like this on instagram and otherwise stumbling over his words after getting whipped on the ass.

Perhaps the defining moment of the galex 2021 season was george pushing the williams board to sign alex so heavily that they had to actively shut him out of proceedings. Also at this time there was this cute congrats from alexs family and one from alex to georgie about the mercedes seat.

anyway here's some more random 2021 nuggets:

i've seen him topless a few times

george getting alex a good deal on a merc x

yet More golf

the handover

georges driver room

2022

They truly lost every inch of personal space in 2022 like. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. The back signing Hello.

2022 had alex having his appendix out, nearly dying and alexs family updating george whilst alex was in the icu and then when alex returned for the next race in signapore a couple weeks later (insane behaviour) george was like mmm audacious of him to be here.

Elsewhere alex discovered georges photoshoot and was making screensavers about it. Alex also discovered hair dye and george was making instagram stories about it.

other random 2022 nuggets:

george is alexs fave f1 driver excluding himself

this skit williams did of lily finding a huge picture of george in alexs driver room

whatever this image is of lily george and alex

private plane carpool

double date

2023

@onadarklingplain covers the whole year for you much MUCH better than i ever could here!!!!!

and that brings us to present where they're just as weird and freaky with each other as ever!!!

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

thanks for the support!!

reply to be added!

[nyxvamps]

Aphrodite Cabin:

Instead of being a life size barbie dreamhouse like it is described in the books, its very subtle, and natural, and soft

The outside is pink, but such a pale pink that it looks white unless the right light is hitting it.

There is natural ivy growing only each wall and onto the roof. It wraps around shutters and the frames of the doors.

It almost looks like a small manor. Looks like it should have been built on some far off hill that is surrounded by flower fields for miles.

The inside is very cozy and welcoming. The walls are a muted dark green and there are so many pictures, posters, mirrors, shelves, etc that you can barely see the paint.

There are bedrooms in the cabin. It looks normal on the outside but Mama wanted the best for her children so she did her magic on it and made it a lot bigger on the inside. There are bedrooms, four to a room, and the main room is more of a common room/lounge area.

There is a walk-in, expanding, closet where you put old clothes you don’t want anymore and other siblings can come and get some new clothes if they need them. (Other campers are welcome whenever invited. It happens more often than it should)

There are traditions that have spanned centuries.

There is an item from every sibling that has lived in that cabin somewhere on the walls. All of the pictures, posters, things on the shelves are placed there by a past sibling.

There is an ever growing stack of finished rubix cubes that each have a piece of tape with the time on it.

There’s a hook where, if your jewelry breaks in the cabin, you tie it off and hang it there. There is a necklace made of leather with a hundreds year old stone heart on the hook.

It’s gross, but there is a bowl where most of the family will put their tooth in if they lose it while at camp. We pretend that it’s a flower pot whenever others campers are there.

This is newer. At the beginning of every summer, everyone (if they feel comfortable) gets in front of the rest of the cabin and gives names, pronouns, and sexuality.

Bathrooms are co ed and there have been multiple times that someone had been late to an event because an impromptu fashion show happened in the bathroom

Unironically, there is a mirror in the cabin where, if you are feeling down, you go and say those cheesy affirmations to make you feel better about whatever was bothering you.

Mama actually charmed it to give the person in front of it a clearer mind and more confidence in themselves.

There is a goal, from the early 1800’s, to make the entire camp think that aphrodite kids are the weakest of the demigods.

The goal is to train up enough and bide our time so that we can destroy the entire camp at capture the flag.

Its sometimes opens up peoples eyes to how quickly people accept that all aphrodite kids are just pampered prissy rich kids.

etc.

[morbidology]

Timothy Treadwell, an environmentalist and bear enthusiast, dedicated thirteen summers of his life to living among the grizzly bears in Alaska's Katmai National Park and Preserve. His passion for these magnificent creatures, however, ended in tragedy in October 2003 when Treadwell and his girlfriend, Amie Huguenard, were mauled to death by a bear.

Born in New York in 1957, Timothy Treadwell's fascination with bears began after he moved to California and became deeply immersed in environmental causes. He overcame personal struggles, including addiction, by dedicating his life to wildlife preservation, particularly grizzly bears. Treadwell's devotion to these animals was profound; he spent months each year camping in the remote wilderness of Alaska, filming his interactions and documenting the behaviors of the bears he so dearly loved.

Treadwell's work gained significant attention through his book "Among Grizzlies: Living with Wild Bears in Alaska" and numerous television appearances. He founded Grizzly People, a non-profit organization aimed at preserving bear habitats and educating the public about the plight of grizzly bears. His unique approach to conservation, which involved close and personal interactions with the bears, was both praised and criticized. Supporters admired his dedication and the insights his footage provided, while critics warned that his lack of formal training and his tendency to anthropomorphize the bears put both him and the animals at risk.

The fateful events of October 2003 occurred during Treadwell's final days of the season in Katmai National Park. A bear, likely struggling with a scarcity of food before hibernation, attacked and killed Treadwell and Huguenard in their campsite. The aftermath was gruesome, with park rangers discovering their partially consumed remains along with the audio recording of the attack, captured inadvertently by Treadwell’s camera. The bear responsible was later identified and euthanized by park officials.

Treadwell's tragic death raised many questions about the ethics and safety of his methods. While his close encounters provided valuable insights into bear behavior and garnered public interest in grizzly conservation, they also highlighted the dangers of habituating wild animals to human presence. Many wildlife experts emphasized that Treadwell's approach blurred the lines between humans and wildlife, potentially leading to fatal consequences.

Filmmaker Werner Herzog explored Treadwell's life and death in the 2005 documentary "Grizzly Man," which combined Treadwell's own footage with interviews of those who knew him. The film painted a complex portrait of Treadwell, showcasing his passion and the stunning beauty of the bears and their habitat, while also delving into the inherent risks of his unconventional lifestyle.

[bellarkeselection]

When Dutton's Marry, They Go Big

Request from wattpad mackleann - Kayce and the reader come back from their honeymoon and the bunkhouse crew talk about how amazing the wedding was ( huge wedding 😏 )

"There's nothing that says we have to go back today. We could just stay out here." Kayce had his arms wrapped around me from behind while I was trying to put my shirt on.

Kayce and I had recently got married a few weeks ago. And we had been spending our honeymoon here at the Dutton Summer Camp. I giggled trying to not cave into his embrace when he kissed my neck. “Kayce, we have to go back to work.”

“Your mother doesn’t need you for another week right?” He mumbled into my neck until I spun around in his arms.

My mother Lynelle Perry was going to be stepping down and leaving Montana in the coming weeks since she got a higher job in government. Kayce’s father John was taking over her position as governor of the state. “No, she's busy helping your father. But I want to spend time with her before she leaves.”

“One more day won’t hurt anybody, darling.” Kayce leaned down, capturing my lips deeply.

I squealed when he got the chance to pick me up by my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Kayce!” He carried me over to the edge of the bed sitting me down on it where we both fell backwards on the mattress.

“By the way you're looking at me right now I can tell that you’re not complaining too much.” Kayce smirked down at me only wearing some blue jeans and his boots that he kicked off.

Running my hands up his chest I wrapped my hands down his neck drawing him in for another long round of the morning. “Who I am kidding you’re hard to resist, Dutton.”

“So are you Mrs. Dutton.” He mumbled in between kisses and we laid in the bedsheets together till the next morning when we had to get back to the ranch.

Kayce drove the truck up underneath the Yellowstone Dutton ranch sign. We parked outside the main house where I turned in my seat facing him. “You know we could always hide out in the bunkhouse till the cowboys are done with work for the day.” A smirk was playing off my lips.

“I like the way you think, baby.” He smiled hoping out of his seat and I scrambled to get my door open. Kayce scopped me up before my feet could even hit the ground, carrying me to the bunkhouse door.

I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck and he kicked the door opened. He sat me down on the nearest bed beginning to remove my shirt until someone else's voice entered the building. “You two look just like you did the day you got married.”

“Ryan! What the hell are you doing here?” Kayce broke the kiss, breaking the kiss that we was sharing seeing the cowboy standing at the edge of the bed.

Ryan raised a brow. “I should be asking, are you going to sleep on my bed right now?”

“Oh god! We didn’t mean for that to happen.” Covering my face with my hands I groaned feeling somewhat embarrassed at the very thought of what we we’re about to do before he walked in. “Wait what did you mean we are just like how we were on our wedding day?”

Ryan chuckled with a smile. “Your wedding was huge and I don’t mean it’s just because of who your mother is. But I also mean weddings and other big events don’t really happen here.”

“Ryan, Rip says we have to move more cattle across the ranch before Gator starts dinner. What….what are you talking to these two about?” Colby enters the barn seeing the three of us talking.

Ryan turns toward his fellow cowboy working. “I was talking about their wedding.”

“Ah yeah. I remember that day. That was the biggest amount of people I had ever seen here before. And the food spread was insane.” Colby throws his head back, running his fingers through his black curly locks.

Thinking back on my wedding day I smiled at the memory. Kayce had been dressed in a light white dress shirt, black tie and his only pair of not dirty blue jeans and some boots. I was wearing my dress obviously that had lace all over the train. I had put some of my hair up with a flower crown braid leaving the rest of it down going down my back. Paring it with my light tan cowgirl boots instead of heels. “I didn’t think you guys were so focused on our wedding. We weren’t even that focused on the details after we got to the ceremony and said the words "I Do.”

“Okay we’ll y’all should get out of here before Rip comes and kick your asses or better yet I’ll kick your asses if you tell anyone else we are back yet.” Kayce threatened sitting down on the bed beside me glaring at the two cowboys who were still standing in the bunkhouse doorway.

Ryan raised his hand up in the air. “Chill out man. We’re going.”

“Who knew married Dutton’s could be more demanding than they already were before.” Colby mumbled exiting the bunkhouse with his fellow cowboy.

Kayce ran a hand through his hair looking back at me. “Are you reconsidering coming back home early like I knew I would?”

“Possibly….do ya think we could sneak back to the truck without them noticing?” I asked him, grabbing his discarded cowboy hat up from the dirty floor putting it on my head after dusting it off.

Kayce smirked the same expression as me. He moved forward, capturing his lips with mine. “You are a genius. But we could just drive back to the Summer Camp for a few more days.”

“Fine Mr. Dutton you win.” I caved knowing he wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed. We grabbed our jackets and ran as fast as possible to his truck in the driveway. I knew the day I said yes I was in for one hell of a ride changing my last name to Dutton and I wouldn't change one thing.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[miru667]

All of the art I did for this year's Camp Weehawken!! 😊 This year both mainverse Audrey Grace AND 8 yr old Audrey Grace were at summer camp and they even got to meet each other LMAO but that's the beauty and magic of Weehawken for ya. I had a marvelous time rping with peeps, read more below for context and credits!

Numbers correspond to the order of the pics!

1) A braid train!! Audrey is braiding her younger self's hair while Entre (@straycalamities) is braiding hers. The grownups are have a heartfelt convo about hair and childhood and identity, meanwhile baby Audrey is thinking about revolution. 2) Audrey realizing she's going to get a STAR STICKER!! for being a good little helper to Entre, who was her cabin counselor for the 2nd year in a row. c: 3) A bad day for little Audrey!! She saw something scary (a grown-up glared at her) and then she almost died in a freak blizzard accident because Beth her beloved art counselor was having a panic attack. 4) Big Audrey in her camp dance outfit! I wanted to try dusky sunset colours...this dress has pockets and if you look closely you can see it's also great for hiding knives underneath. Would you dance with her? 🥺🫴 5) Small Audrey in her summerween outfit! She was a little angel to match her Auntie Miru's death god outfit...😌 Audrey wishes she had real wings so she can fly far, far away. 6) A crayon drawing by kid Audrey...last summer she tried to run away from camp and then she caught a cold and in her delirium she ran into two fairy people in the forest who were having a picnic by the waterfall. She thinks it might've been a fever dream and she never forgot about it (in reality it was adult Bean and Audrey on a picnic outing haha). Bean belongs to @lemonine 7) Audrey dressed up as Elphaba from Wicked for the summerween event! P: Here she is sitting down on some porch steps after taking off her hat. She's having an existential hour talk with Som the camp nightguard, Som was having doubts about his life so Audrey shows him a warm smile first to reassure him. 8) This sequence was inspired by a scene from one of my favourite movies, "In This Corner of the World" (the extended cut!). ;w; For this rp Audrey and Bean (@lemonine) were catching up and reconciling...there's too much context to explain but basically Audrey thinks it's important to support your friends no matter what heartache you might be feeling. Hiding her sadness is her core character trait, I think..! They're wearing life jackets because they were on a rowboat :3

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: What Happened on Friday

An Ambush Simulation comic.

Fair warning, this is not one of my usual lighthearted ones. If you’ve read the fic, you’ll know the scene, but if you haven’t, be warned there is brief domestic violence and some blood. Nothing more serious than what's already in My Hero's canon.

Read right-to-left.

Ah, yes. The inciting moment for The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation.

Addressing the reason why things escalated so quickly, since the answer is not really given in the accompanying fic either, we need to look at Endeavor’s point of view. He’s invested twenty-three years into his goal of trying to complete his perfect successor. He has almost succeeded with Shouto, except the events of Hosu City nearly jeopardized that beyond repair. Shouto is his last chance. He can’t have another kid, it’s unlikely he can train a grandchild to succeed him. (You can’t tell me he didn’t consider that.) Shouto being charged with vigilantism and having that black mark could have ruined everything he’s worked so hard for.

And now Touya, his past failure and current problem child who has been charged repeatedly with vigilantism, is stepping between him and Shouto and mouthing off. He’s interfering, just like his mother did.

Old 'habits' die hard.

...

I thought about cutting the comic short with the brothers heading to the bathroom, but I thought it was important to also include Touya's toxic behavior. Yeah, he has PTSD, abandonment trauma, and who knows what else, but acting like this isn't healthy either.

In Chapter 2, Touya fixates on the fact that Endeavor hit him. He barely pays attention to the fact Shouto was there.

In Chapter 3, Shouto is the one whose pov provides the whole picture. He was being scolded and then Touya stood up for him. Touya has never stood up for him, nor does he really understand why he did it. During the confrontation, Endeavor hits Touya. Endeavor has never done that before. Two of Shouto's 'normals' got overturned in the span of two minutes. He's confused, but he still tries to do the right thing by his hostile sibling.

And rather than accept his help, Touya lashes out at him again once the shock wears off. As he is in canon, he is still spiteful, self-destructive, and a bit self-pitying and returning home after the coma in this AU did little to change that because the core issue is Endeavor being a bad parent.

...

And if there's any confusion as to why Shouto sees Rei briefly after Touya is knocked to the floor, this is a bit of dialogue from the fic it's from:

"I spent my entire childhood listening to my mother crying because you hurt her over and over.  I refuse to live through that again with my brother."

...

Fun fact: I did not draw these pages in order.

Through the whole bathroom scene, all I could think was, "Shouto...baby...gloves."

...

Further comics for this AU, click here.

[summ3rg4l]

hii how are u🫶?i was wondering if u could write headcanons abt monoma with a 1-A class reader who has a personality like his(but much calmer) so they naturally fight a lot,but reader secretly likes him a lot! it's okay if you can't(sorry if this is hard to read english isn't my first lenguage)have a great dayyy💗💗

🩰🍊 “Open your ass and smell!” 🥰

→＞summary: Monoma and reader fighting over nonsense but they actually love each other + what the relationship would be like.

→＞warning(s): Arguing?

→＞type: Headcannons

→＞authors note: Tysm for the request sorry it took 10 years to make 😋 also your English is really good XD I had no problem reading your request!!! Keep up the good work!

Every time you two would see each other one of you would start talking loudly about sometime that the other lost. “Hey remember that time Kendo’s team beat Yaoyarozu’s HAHAHAHA!” He’d laugh extremely loud just to make sure you heard him.

When you guys aren’t arguing or bragging or you don’t notice each other near by, you silently stare at one another, admiring them but god forbid one of your classmates notice. “Why would I stare at him!? He’s barely my type anyway!”

That one time during the summer camp Monoma was feeling slightly…disappointed(?) that your weren’t there. You can just imagine how his eyes lit up when he saw you training your quirk with the rest of your class.

I’m running out of ideas

I feel like the girls in your class wouldn’t even notice that you liked him because they’d be too distracted by Deku and Ochaco. Same with class 1-B. They would be none the wiser.

In the event that one of you confessed (which would never happen) it would be so awkward the first few MONTHS and people wouldn’t even be able to tell you two were dating until Tetsutetsu caught you guys having lunch together all alone.

After getting comfortable neither of you would be super into PDA except for maybe just walking close together.

No one in class A or B were actually surprised when you guys started dating but it’s not like they expected it to happen..

Don’t think for a second that you guys stoped your little quarrels over which class was better. They still happen but they’re just a lot more lighthearted.

I peg Monoma…for the type to make competition out of how much he can fluster you but you’d never actually be aware of the challenge and would just think he’s trying to be romantic…😭

Unintentional backhanded compliments. “You’re so gorgeous for a lower class citizen my dear!” “What?” 😭

[tropes-and-tales]

Firewatch

(Alex Keller x F!Reader)

CW:  Slight angst; healing from trauma; mild danger

Word Count: 6210

AN: This was inspired by the video game "Firewatch."

Alex Keller takes the job as a lookout at a fire tower because he needs time away.

He needs time to heal.

He carries too many ghosts with him.  Ghosts from his time in special ops, then in the CIA.  Ghosts from his time with Farrah in Urzikstan.  His third act with Farrah was supposed to help exorcise the ghosts from his time under the dubious command of the U.S.  Yet here he is, in his pitiful fourth act, with just as many ghosts.  And one less leg.

It’s a buddy of a buddy who manages to hook him up with the job.  The national service eyes his prosthetic leg with skepticism, but if he can fight on it, he reasons, he can serve as a lookout.  The national service isn’t exactly overrun by applicants—it is lonely, isolated work for half of the year, so they hire him.

The swath of wilderness has four fire towers, each miles apart and separately staffed.  Each can see so far across the mountain range and can radio to the national service in the event of smoke.  Each person has rudimentary EMT skills, survivalist skills, and can be pressed into service in case a hiker or camper needs aid.  Each person gets a weekly supply drop.  The towers have solar panels for some creature comforts.  Each has three radios so that two can always be fully charged while the other is in use.

Alex is assigned to the fourth tower, the one with the flattest terrain in a nod to his prosthetic leg.  It’s called the Delta tower, and he snorts at the symmetry in his life.  From Delta Force to Delta tower.

He takes the job because he needs time to heal.  He needs quiet and solitude.

Ironic, then, that his first night, his radio crackles to life with a hail from the Charlie tower, and when he answers, he hears your bright voice introducing yourself, welcoming him to the summer.

“I was in Delta for the last three years,” you explain.  “I only moved to Charlie this year.”

Alex feels a sting of guilt.  He likely pushed you out because of his leg.  “I’m sorry,” he replies.  “I think they moved you because I’m missing the lower half of my left leg.”

“Oh, no worries.  Charlie tower is nice, and it’s new terrain for me to explore.  I just wanted to welcome you.”

“Thank you.”

You sign off, and Alex sighs, makes his way back to his cot.  Your cot, until now.  He stares up at the ceiling and waits for sleep to come.  It takes a long time:  after an entire lifetime of the noise of war and tragedy, the near-silence of his tower is as loud as a bomb.

-----

Alex can see how this would be a tough gig for most people.  The average well-adjusted person would struggle with the solitude.  His days are long, and with no smoke on any horizon, he is in charge of filling his hours. 

He acclimates to the terrain.  He hikes his territory in wider arcs.  Part of his job’s secondary tasks include checking the blazes on the trails, clearing any debris, and making sure the emergency supply caches are stocked.  He takes to it like a fish to water:  all those years of precise military training, put to use making sure everything is neat and orderly.

His evenings are spent sitting on his tower, the wide windows open to allow the breeze in.  This high up, every direction is picture perfect.  If he turns to the left, he can see the sun setting in all its technicolor glory, and he swears there are colors that have no name—the thin bands of melding between purple and orange, orange and fiery red.  If he turns to the right, it’s already dark, and the sky is a velvety blackness.

His first few weeks, the only person he speaks to is you:  a daily and nightly hailing that goes from tower to tower to base camp, so that everyone is accounted for.

“Charlie to Delta,” you call each night.  “Here to tuck you into bed.”

Alex smiles at it each time.  “Delta accounted for.”

“Excellent.  Sweet dreams, Delta.”

-----

It’s the teenagers that put you and Alex on chattier terms:  a foursome of nineteen year-old girls, a troublesome age where they are technically adults but unable to legally drink.  They are camping in the area between Alex’s tower and yours, and they spend their first night setting off fireworks.

“You’re seeing this, right?” you crackle through his radio.

“Affirmative.”

“Bravo tower called them in to base.  They have permits to camp, so we’ll have to keep an eye on them.  Still….shitheads, setting off fireworks during fire season.  Do you think you can make your way down to them tomorrow and give them a lecture?”

Alex grins, then presses the button on his radio.  “You don’t want to do the honors?  I feel like you have a ready-made lecture.”

“Well, for one, I’d hate for you to not have any fun during your first summer.”

“And two?”

“Two is, I have to hike through and resupply my caches.  One needs repaired.”

Alex considers it.  He’s used to… less than kind ways of convincing people to bend to his will.  But idiot teenagers?

“Any suggestions?” he asks.

He hears your laugh over the radio and it makes him smile.  “Whatever you do, don’t try to meet ‘em on their level.  Teenagers are assholes.  Give them the straight facts about forest fires, and be prepared for them to call you a vulgar iteration of ‘Smokey the Bear.’”

“You speaking from experience?”

“I repress it each year, Delta.”

-----

You hail him a little earlier that night. 

“Charlie to Delta.  How’d it go?”

Alex makes sure to press the button so you can hear the massive sigh he heaves.  He only got back to his tower half an hour earlier, just before the sun fully sank in the western sky.  He was so tired he didn’t bother to cook a proper meal — he smeared a bunch of peanut butter on bread, made a couple of sandwiches that he bolted down in a handful of wolfish bites.  Now he’s in the process of removing his prosthetic leg when he hears you calling on the radio.

“I’m back.  I survived.”  He sets his prosthetic on the bed beside him and groans as he kneads at his thigh.  His muscles are tight and knotted, and he’s sore, but it’s a good sore from putting in a lot of hiking.

“You put the fear of god in them?”

“I tried.”  He leans back against his pillow and feels the muscles in his back relax one by one.  “They didn’t seem to care about the forest or the loss of human life if they start a fire.  I had to frame it as all the cute lil bunnies that would die.”

“So long as they stop setting off fireworks.”  You pause, then ask, more playfully, “they verbally abuse you?”

He laughs, but it trails off into a wide yawn.  “Yeah, but standard stuff.  ‘Peg Leg.’”

“Boo.”

“Right?  I thought kids were more clever nowadays.”

“Two summers ago, I had to break up a campsite of teenaged boys,” you tell him.  “Same deal, fire conditions were high.  One called me ‘Smokey the Bear,’ but another looked me over and said, ‘I wouldn’t mind climbing up on Ol’ Smokey.’”

Alex laughs again.  Yawns again.  “Youths,” he chuckles over the radio.

“Youth is wasted on them.”  A beat of static as you hold the line.  “Well, I appreciate you handling it.  You’re a seasoned pro now.”

He tries not to note the warm flush of feeling at this tamest, faintest overture of belonging.  He tries not to let his mind immediately go to where it goes:  that with everywhere else he’s belonged, he had to kill for the right.  He had to do nefarious things.  Evil things.  Here, on the fire tower?  All he had to do was hike down to the lake and give a stern talk to a foursome of giggling, slightly drunk young women.

“Anytime.”  His voice has an edge of roughness to it, but you must just chalk it up to tiredness.

“Alright, I’ve kept you on too long.  Go to bed and sleep well, Delta.”

“You too, Charlie.”

-----

From there, you talk more.  Not just in the mornings or evenings for check-in, but at random intervals throughout the day.  You both drop a lot of the formalities on the radio too.

You break in one afternoon, your voice startling him as he works his way along a bit of trail that needs cleared. 

“What do you look like, Delta?”

As always, your non-sequiturs make him smile.  “I’m hideous.”

“Liar!”

“I wasn’t born so much as created in a lab,” he teases.  “And it didn’t go well.  Just really disgusting looking.”

“So you’re one of a kind, then?”

He draws his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat beading there.  He’s been hacking away at encroaching undergrowth with a machete, and you calling is a welcome break.

“Is this a prelude to something saucy?” he asks.  “Like, are you gonna ask what I’m wearing next?”

“Oh, Delta.  I imagine you’re wearing a white t-shirt, cargo shorts, and a red baseball cap.”

Maybe it’s a good sign that he startles now.  That he had no idea someone was watching him.  He’s been swinging his machete and feeling good to use his body for good work, and he never even noticed that he was being observed.

Still, he freezes like his training taught him.  He scans the landscape, quick but thorough—

Your laughter bursts out of his radio.  “I’m on my high-powered binoculars.  I can see you, but you can’t see me.”

“Then why are you asking what I look like.”  He does a slow turn with his arms out.  “Here I am.”

“I can’t make out your face that well.  But from the blur I can make out, you look disappointingly human.  No lab experiment at all.”

-----

The next day brings much-needed rain, and Alex lounges in his tower.  There’s a dog-eared copy of “War and Peace” (yours? He doesn’t know) that he is trying to work through just so he can be one of those impressive, kinda irritating people who can say they’ve read “War and Peace.”  But the rain drums on the roof, and the words—all those confusing Russian names that he can’t keep straight—swim together in front of him.

He reaches for the radio.  “Delta to Charlie.  How’s the weather over there?”

It takes you a moment to answer, and your voice is husky when you do.  “Sheets of rain here.”

“Did I wake you up?  Sorry.”

“Just dozing.  Can’t pass up on a good doze when the weather obliges.”  A beat.  “What’s up, Delta?”

“Trying to read ‘War and Peace’ and getting nowhere.”

“Oh, fatal mistake.  Summer in the tower calls for Jack London, Larry McMurty, Louis L’Amour.  The Russians are strictly for winter.”

“Duly noted.”  He pauses and turns his head to look out one of the wide windows.  Water streaks down, and the horizon shows nothing but thick black clouds.  “I was curious what you looked like.”

Your laughter carries over the radio and makes him smile.  “Well….I wasn’t formed in a lab.  In fact, I was, you know, in my mom with my twin.  But I partially absorbed my twin, so I have three eyes, four ears—”

“That’s wild.”  He laughs.  “What else?”

“Only one mouth, normal sized, but like, twice as many teeth.  I look like some fucked-up fish that you’d find in the Mariana Trench.”

“You speak really well for someone with a mouthful of teeth.”

“Thanks.”

“So you’re one of a kind too?”

He can’t account for why your voice turns sad and sighs as you reply, “just a lonely whale operating on a frequency no one else can hear.”

-----

And that—the rainy day where the two of you check in with each other, leisurely, comfortably—is what leads your chats into deeper waters.

“Why are you out here?” you ask him one day.

How to answer it?  The easy but still-true answer is that he needed the job.  Not because of money—he’s set up well enough for the rest of his life, so long as he doesn’t acquire any expensive habits between now and old age.  It’s more an inability to not work.  He’s had a job since he was twelve when he worked on a farm down the road from his house during the summer.  From farmhand to bus boy to lifeguard to soldier to undercover agent to freedom fighter to… what?  This, for now. 

The tougher, more-true answer is that he needed to feel useful in a way that didn’t involve death.  He needed a place to heal the sore spots in his soul, the places that burn because they’ve been grated raw by the world.

Instead of answering, he volleys a question back to you.  “Why are you asking?”

“Everyone comes here for a reason.  We have to, because no one without a reason would just take this job.  Why else would we sign up for so much seclusion?”

“Maybe I just needed the stipend a lot.”

You laugh.  “You’d make the same basic amount at McDonald’s, and you’d get to go home to a larger bed and hot shower each night.”

“But here, I don’t stink like fry oil.”

Another laugh, and it never fails to make Alex smile—the warm merriment traveling through the airwaves over the miles that separate you. 

“So Alpha has been here the longest, and he’s here because he’s just your standard loner.  Nice guy.  He just kinda hates society and likes to spend his time in the mountains.  A real Thoreau-type,” you say.

“You’re sure he’s not working on any manifestos in his spare time?”

“Nah.  He actually spends a lot of his evenings whittling these really lovely little wooden animals, right?  He gives everyone one at the end of each season.  Last year he whittled foxes.”

Alex wonders if you have similar conversations with the other towers about him, and he finds the thought doesn’t bother him.  You seem kind; most of your humor is gently teasing, if that.  He imagines you hailing Bravo tower and saying something like, “Delta had his first teenager encounter.  He’s one of us now.”

You continue over the radio.  “Bravo is a woman too.  She’s a writer, and she has this sturdy, bare bones laptop that she can charge with the solars.  She basically bangs out two, three really rough drafts here, then goes home after fire season to polish ‘em up.”

“Yeah?”  He glances at the dog-eared copy of “War and Peace” that he’s pretty much given up on.  “Anything I might’ve heard of?”

“Probably not, unless you are into shifter smut.”

He knows he’s missed a lot, being out of step with the mainstream, but his mind boggles.  “What’s that?”

“Like….”  You trail off, and he hears you clicking your tongue as you think.  “Shifter is shape-shifter.  Werewolves, humans turning into other creatures.  And smut is….you know.”

“Like two werewolves are in a romance?”

“Oh, Delta.”  Your laughter is more of a giggle over the line, a he-he-he that might seem flirty except for the tendril of nervousness threaded through it.  “It’s, uh, usually a human and a shifter.”

“Seriously?  Doesn’t that make it bestiality?”

“Well, the shifter isn’t a beast.  It’s a fully consensual being, just not a human.”

He’s completely confused.  “And people read these books?”

“Bravo does really well.  She goes to all sorts of romance conventions and has a robust fanbase.”

“For werewolf and human smut?”  He can’t hide the way his voice pitches up in incredulity.

“Different strokes for different folks.”

“Well, shit.  I guess,” he replies, still baffled, and it makes you laugh again.

A moment later, though, you sign off—it’s supply drop day, and you have the furthest to go for yours.  Alex looks thoughtfully at the radio in his hand, realizes that you never circled back to your original question to him, and that you never said why you’re on a tower either.

-----

You don’t ask the question again over the next few weeks, so Alex asks it.

“Why are you out here?” he asks one evening.  There are thunderheads in the west, but the weather service says they should spend themselves before they get close enough to do any damage from lightning strikes.

You’re a long time in answering him.  You go so long that the line seems dead, and he adds, more playfully, “you some sort of smut writer too?  Alien smut, maybe?”

It draws a laugh out of you, but it lacks the usual bright merriment.  “I’m not that creative, unfortunately.”

“C’mon,” he wheedles.  “You gotta give me something, boss.”

“Boss?” 

Alex shuts his eyes, winces.  It just slipped out, his weird little term of affection.  His nickname for people he feels comfortable with.  Women he feels comfortable with. He hasn’t said it since Farrah, since their time together in Urzikstan, him at her right hand, helping rebuild until—

“Did I lose you there, Delta?”

“Still here.”

“Why are you here, then?  Turnabout is fair play, and you never told me.”

He doesn’t bother to point out that you never told him why you were on a tower.  That you’re similarly withholding from him.  He wonders if you’re hiding similar hurt, or if you need a similar sort of healing that can only come from being away from other people.

“I just needed time away,” he tells you.

The line is silent for a long stretch again, and then your voice comes across, smaller than he’s ever heard it before.

“Me too.”

-----

A grey day weeks later when low clouds obscure the sun and cast the landscape in a weird, muted light:  you hail Alex late morning when he’s fiddling around with a loose wire on one of his solar panels.

“Quid pro quo, Delta.  I’ll tell you my tale of woe if you tell me yours.”

He sets down the channel locks he’s been using and makes his way over to the steps.  He settles down, then answers you.

“Who says I have a tale of woe?”

“Because you never answered me the way I never answered you.  If you’re here because you love the wilderness, you would have just said so.”

“Fair.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and then you add, “and because everyone here has a tale of woe, including Alpha and Bravo.  But it’s not my place to tell their stories.”

Alex turns his head and gazes off across the slope to the west, the gentle valley that leads down to the lake that separates his area from yours.  He has no idea what you look like or what you’re even doing right now.  Are you on a trail, resupplying a cache, and did the spirit move you to call him?  Are you in your tower, peering in his direction with your binoculars?

He knows part of his reintroduction to the world will have to involve letting people in.  Extending trust even if it isn’t earned yet.  Why not start with a person he hasn’t seen?  Why not start with telling his story into a radio, when he doesn’t have to look you in the eye and see your reactions?

“Well,” he starts.  “There was a woman.  But really, before that, I had this job, and I did a lot of bad things that seemed like the right thing at the time…”

-----

He talks so long his radio dies.  He talks so long, the light grows dimmer—sunset is close—and he has to pause, clean up his abandoned project, and head up into the tower.  You’ve been silent for most of his story, only offering little one-word encouragements to continue, or keep going, or little noises of sympathy.  Or at least they sound sympathetic. 

And it’s a revelation how it all just pours out of him, every wretched moment:  the shit he saw and did on Delta Force, the worse shit he saw and did in the CIA.  The moment he tried to turn it around, sacrifice himself for a noble cause, and how he woke up in a clinic in the most agonizing pain of his life.  How he was airlifted to Turkey, how they amputated his leg there.  Then the long road to recovery and back to Farrah, happy to serve at her right hand as she rebuilt her country to be a beacon to the region. 

How he fell in love—how could he not?  How that love was gently rebuffed, and how there was no great falling out or massive argument. 

How ordinary it was, when he realized he couldn’t live with Farrah and not have his love reciprocated.  How Farrah couldn’t love him the way he needed.

All the drama and chaos of his life, and going out like that:  a love-sick boy on a plane back to the United States, sulking and hurt.  And that sulking and hurt nothing but a veneer over the deeper pain.

Then his radio gives its warning beep, and he has to sign off before you can reply.  As he heads in for the evening, he grows more and more horrified at what he’s done.  Oversharing to the nth degree.  His face flames hot; the tips of his ears burn so much he’s sure he looks like a beacon in the growing darkness.

-----

You call him back a few hours later.

“Are you free?” you ask.  “I wanted to give you time to eat, relax, unwind…”

“Yeah.  I’m free.”  His voice comes out rough, craggy around the edges of his words.  He shuts his eyes tight and lays back in his cot.  He waits for you to give him hell or worse, give him a gentle brush-off.  Something like maybe we should just stick to the nightly check-in.

“I appreciate you sharing all of that with me.”  A beat.  “I realize it must have been hard, trusting a stranger with your story.”

He snorts.  “You hardly seem like a stranger anymore.”

“Someone you haven’t formally met yet, then.”

“It was easier, I think.  Talking to someone I hadn’t met yet.  I could have never said any of that to my sisters or cousins or friends back home.”

He hears the sympathetic cluck of your tongue.  “I get it.  Sometimes it’s harder to share the dark stuff with the people closest to us.”

He feels a curious sensation in his chest at this exchange; a weird snagging against the back of his breastbone, like something barbed loosening there.  He hears no judgement in your voice.  No horror at the things he’s done in the name of freedom and country.  Maybe it will come later, but right now, he only hears sympathy and understanding.

“Quid pro quo,” he reminds you. 

He hears the sigh, and he hears a rustling over the radio.  Like you’re leaning back in your bed too, getting comfortable.

“Well, there was a man,” you start.  “Isn’t there always?  A man or a woman or some goddamned person that throws you off the trajectory of your life and leaves you spinning.”

You talk so long your radio dies.

-----

Alex wonders sometimes if you talk with the other towers like you talk with him.  He wonders if you and Bravo, say, chat about your various traumas.  Maybe Bravo was cheated on too, and the two of you spend radio-draining hours commiserating. 

He doesn’t think so, though. The two of you fall into a rhythm:  you spend your evenings and well into the night talking—deep shit, embarrassing shit, the shit neither of you would probably tell anyone else.  The mornings and daylight hours bring a sheepishness to your back-and-forth, a sort of “can’t believe I admitted that last night, so now I have to soften it with goofy teasing and joking around.”

But then the sun sets, and you’re back to baring your souls to each other.

The fire season is halfway over when you tell him one night that you appreciate him more than he knows.  That excising all of the bad feelings has led you to sleep better than you have in years.

“I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve become my closest confidant,” you admit. 

He doesn’t tell you then, but he considers it after you both sign off for the night:  how he’s sleeping better than he has in years too.  And how he’s confided in you more than anyone else, even Farrah.

And then he considers how the thought of Farrah doesn’t raise the sharp ache of loss it used to. 

He considers how this may be him healing.

-----

“What are your plans after the season ends?” he asks.  He’s been mulling that question over for himself.  He has no plans at all.  He could always crash at his cousin’s place for a few months—he’s got a rambling old farmhouse in Michigan, and he’s invited Alex more than once to join him. 

“I got a place in Colorado,” you reply.  “I have a seasonal job at a winter resort.”

“What do you do there?”

It’s daytime, so the jokes are in full force.  “I’m a caretaker.  Also working on my novel.  It’s just me and a bunch of ghosts and also the specter of my own alcoholism.”

Alex laughs.  “There was alcoholism in ‘the Shining’?”

“In the book, yeah.”  You pause, and Alex hears you give a little grunt of effort.  He knows you’re on a trail, clearing out a downed tree.  “Anyway, I do a little bit of everything at the resort.  Mostly I give out skiing lessons and man the medic hut.”

“Sounds like a good gig.”

“It is.”  Another beat, another huff as you move a heavy section of tree.  Alex hears the thud as it lands on the soft ground.  “What about you?”

“Not sure yet.  I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

You heave a sigh, and he imagines you sitting down or leaning against a tree to rest.  “There’s a whole swath of society that does this sort of seasonal work as a living.  I could give you some sites to look at.  Ideas of what to do during the winter.  If you plan on doing this again next year, I mean.”

He chuckles again.  “I definitely haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“C’mon.  You don’t want to do another summer on the tower?”

He isn’t against the idea, exactly.  The summer has turned out to be exactly what he’s needed:  time and space away from others, time to be alone with himself.  And a friend on the radio, which he hadn’t counted on. 

But this was only ever meant to be a stop-gap.  He never intended to become a lifer on the fire tower, because he has always imagined a life more ordinary.  A regular job and a home and partner to come home to every night. 

He tells you as much now, and asks, “do you want to do this forever?”

“I never planned on it.”  Your voice sounds thoughtful, maybe a little sad.  “I guess it was supposed to be a stop-gap for me too, and now here I am…”

He knows now how you’ve been hurt.  The story of a husband who used you, then cheated, then left you with less than nothing.  How it launched you out of the trajectory of your own life, as you said, and how you find yourself drifting now.

“You could go anywhere,” he tells you.  “Anywhere at all.  And you could do anything.”

“You want me to put down some roots, Delta?”  You sound playful now, and he smiles to hear it.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing, right?”

“It’d be tough to start over in a place where I didn’t know anyone,” you admit.  “It’s tough to make friends as an adult.  Starting over, all that shit.”

Alex shakes his head, rueful.  “Don’t sell yourself short.  You made a friend in me in a matter of months.”

You laugh over the radio, your usual merry sound that makes that barbed pain behind his chest wall unfurl a bit.  “How about you get settled somewhere, and I’ll come glom off of you until I put down some roots of my own.”

“That’s a deal,” he replies, quick, and you laugh over the radio again, but Alex spends the rest of the golden afternoon imagining an entire future that looks a lot like the present:  him in his own place somewhere undefined, and you nearby, just a phone call away to chat or listen or vent.

-----

The season is a month away from ending when the fire starts.

It’s two fires, actually:  one sighted early by Alpha tower, and the second sighted by you in Charlie.

“The Service is keeping an eye on them,” you tell him one evening.  Your voice has a taut quality that Alex realizes is fear.  He’s never heard you afraid before.

“They are sending in a team to strip out a fire line,” you continue.  “Hopefully it will keep them from merging.”

Alex eyes the smoke on the horizon.  The wind has been carrying the acrid scent of burning to him all day.  “Have you been in a fire situation before?” he asks.

“Once, but it was small.  It was handled before it became a big thing.”

“You able to move out quick if you have to?”  He thinks of his years of training and experience.  He can light out in less than a minute if he has to. 

Your scoff over the radio tells him all he needs to know, but you kindly answer with your words anyway.  “Of course I can move quick, Delta.”

-----

The weather is against you:  high winds and no rain.  The wind takes the fires and pushes them to ungodly heights, and no rain ever comes.  Alex can’t tell what is a genuine cloud and what is smoke now—everything is hazy, and his eyes feel like they are laden with grit. 

The fires merge within a couple of days, and the situation changes from concerning to dangerous.

“I need you to look at the map on the wall,” you tell him without preamble.  The taut quality of your voice is gone, and now it shakes with fear.

He takes the three steps over to the wall where it’s tacked up, the corners curling and yellowed with age.  There are notations on it in neat printing, some of them humorous.  He’s looked at it all summer and always assumed it was you who named some of the local features, like Twisted Knee Trail and Drunken Fratboy Pond. 

“I’m looking at it,” he tells you.

“You see where you are in Delta tower.”

“Affirmative.”

“Look northwest.  Do you see Wapiti Meadow?  It’s on the other side of the canyon.”

He leans closer and studies it.  Does the quick math. 

“Looks like it’s about five or six clicks from me.”

“Correct.  There’s a research station there so it’s the best place the helicopter can set down to get us.  Alpha hiked out two days ago, and Bravo caught a ride with the fire fighters who were cutting the line.  It’s just us now.”

Alex’s stomach sinks, and he turns to look out the window.  The fire churns thick plumes of black smoke in the air.  It’s like a beast, ravenous for more acreage.  “We’re evacuating.”  The thought occurs to him then, and he returns to the map.  Wapiti Meadow will be a hike but he should be fine.  You?

“The northern edge of the fire is between the rendezvous spot and you,” he says, and now his voice is laced with fear too.

“I’m leaving now,” you reply.  “I have to flank it.  Take only what you absolutely need.  Wet a cloth and tie it over your mouth and nose.  And take some water.  Not enough to weigh you down but enough to hydrate you.  Don’t underestimate the smoke in the air.”

He makes his way over to his cot and sits down, pulls out his pack and starts to check its contents.  He’s always ready to go in a moment.  He’ll be fine. 

A not-tiny sting of guilt lances through him:  this was your tower, and the service gave it to him because of his leg.  Now you have to make your way through dangerous terrain around a wild fire because of him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. 

“None of that shit,” you snap over the radio.  “Don’t you dare apologize.  Get moving, and I’ll see you at Wapiti Meadow. 

“Please be careful, Boss.”

“I’ll see you there, Alex.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name all summer, and it’s the jolt he needs to finish his preparations and launch him out the door of his tower. 

He gives it a backwards glance, realizes it will be gone within a day or two.  At the last minute, he turns back and pulls the map from the wall.  He has his smaller one in his pocket that he can consult with his compass, but he has the idea to save the tower map with your notations.  A memento from your home for so many summers, your refuge from the wider world while you healed.

He folds it and puts it in his pack, then leaves. 

-----

He makes it to Wapiti Meadow okay.  He underestimated the haze from the smoke, and how quickly it would make his vision blurry with tears.  Near the end of his journey to the rendezvous, he has to stop every few hundreds of yards to wash out his eyes and blink his vision clear again. 

By the time he gets there, the helicopter is already in the clearing.  A grim-faced ranger offers his hand and helps haul Alex up into the helicopter, and he does a quick scan of the others there.  The ranger, the helicopter pilot, and a man that he later learns is a research scientist at the Wapiti station. 

No you.

For the majority of Alex’s professional life, he’s only been a member of teams where everyone was expendable.  He himself had been left behind for dead more often than he wants to count.  It’s that history that makes him stand up as much as he can in the tight quarters of the helicopter, makes him loom over the ranger, and growl, “we aren’t leaving her behind.”

The ranger, who perhaps has some understanding of the lookouts on the towers, only looks back at him and mildly replies, “we weren’t planning on it, buddy.”

Over the headset, the pilot adds, “she’s only a click or two away now.  She’s been radioing in every thirty minutes.”

It would be more dramatic to say that there is a frenzy at the end, that the helicopter’s blades start to turn, that it starts to rise from the flattened grass of the meadow just as you break through the treeline and make a run for them.  It’d be more dramatic to say that Alex reaches out a hand as you reach out a hand, and that your fingertips brush, and that you either lose your grip on him and fall, then die in the fire, or that he hauls you into the helicopter just as it’s lifting off.

In the end, neither happens.  Alex is all turned around from the smoke and the adrenaline, so he’s looking in the wrong direction when you break through the treeline.  The pilot says, “there she is,” and Alex has to look to see where everyone is looking before he finally sees you for the first time.

The pilot hits the controls and starts the rotors, but the helicopter is firmly on the ground when the ranger—not Alex—extends his hand and hauls you in.  The lower half of your face is covered with a damp cloth, but the top part of your face is black with smoke.  Tear tracks cut clean lines from the corners of your eyes, and you’re coughing and sputtering as the ranger hands you a bottle of water.  Alex watches as you pour half of it over your face, then drink the other half, and it isn’t until the helicopter is a few feet in the air that your eyes find his and light up.

That barbed, snagged feeling in his chest unfurls completely when he finally lays eyes on you.  Even sweaty and smoke-stained, tears leaking from red-rimmed eyes, a skinned knee oozing blood… you’re absolutely gorgeous to him.  The voice on his radio, helping him heal.  The voice hailing him each night, tucking him into bed, wishing him sweet dreams. 

“Delta,” you say, and your voice sounds brighter in person than it did over the radio, even roughened up by the smoke.  “Alex.  Good to finally meet you.”

You hold out your hand and he takes it eagerly, and he cannot stop the smile that breaks across his face as the helicopter takes to the air. 

“Good to finally meet you, Boss.”

[meadowmusing]

random Cabin 10 / Aphrodite kids headcanons

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

They keep a meticulous track of who is dating who, whose crushing on who, who isn't is rejecting who, ect. They also have a betting pool around certain relationships and campers. artistic rendition of Aphrodite campers presenting their romance predictions for the summer:

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

They host charity events around Valentines. Its important to them that people spend the day with their loved ones, but also to make sure that love is shared around everywhere and with everyone. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

They may not be as big readers as the Athena kids, but they do have each their own favourite couple in history and media that they are ride or die for. They can even go toe-toe with Athena's kids in debates over these couples, arguing about their favourite relationship's historical legitimacy/basis or canon. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Aphrodite kids aren't known for enthusiastically participating in training or camp activities, but like water is to Percy, love is a powerful adrenaline rush. When they're fighting for someone or something they truly love, they can become incredible warriors and protectors even if its only for a short time. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Marilyn Monroe was a child of Aphrodite. I will die on this hill. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Despite their reputation of being quite vain, children of Aphrodite can be intensely devoted and self sacrificing when it comes to those they care about and matters of love. Being loved by a child of Aphrodite means discovering what it means to be worshipped like you are the moon to their tide, the air to their lungs. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

If you have a nasty break up with a child of Aphrodite, the next few dates you try to go on will go terribly and embarrassingly wrong. The bad luck will fade eventually, just long enough to create a few truly cringe worthy memories. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Cabin 10 campers host make up and wardrobe workshops semi regularly, giving advice to those that want it. They also collaborate on theatre projects the Apollo and Dionysus kids sometimes put on, mostly in make up/costuming/hair, but occasionally as captivating romance leads or as script consultants for love stories (in fact they get quite offended if you don't even ask any of them to at least read over your script). ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Weddings or engagements where part of the couple is a child of Aphrodite is massive affair. The whole cabin gets together for it, no matter where they live at this point in their lives. They also perform some really old ancient rites to honour Aphrodite and to ask her to bless their sibling in their relationships future. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When children of Aphrodite go to battle, they wear something of their lover. Sometimes something simple like a picture of them, favourite jewellery of their lover's, their lover's lucky underwear, a hair piece from their love ect, or it can be as something as intimate as a lock of hair or even an ash diamond (if they've passed away). If they don't have a lover, then they wear something symbolic of their mother for her protection. Most popularly this is a dove feather or pearl jewellery, even both at once.

[slayfics]

Explosive tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter seven: You hang out at the pool with the girls.

Chapter links

Your classmate's trip to the mall had actually ended up being an eventful one. Izuku had a run-in with Shigaraki, one of the League of Villains members. Due to that, your class was forbidden to go anywhere for summer in order to stay safe from any more attacks.

That didn't really affect you much but it did change the location of the summer camp. No one knew exactly where the class was going for summer training anymore.

You sat on your bed enjoining a recent book series you had picked up when your phone buzzed. You grabbed your phone surprised to see a direct message from Mina.

Hey! The girls got permission to use the school pool to hang out this summer since we can't go anywhere else. We are all going tomorrow you should come!

Pass, you thought. Letting your phone slide back to your bed. Then you replayed the scene at the diner where you studied with Eijiro and Katsuki. Eijiro had noticed you hadn't talked to many other students. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to get to know your classmates more, you pondered.

You left Mina's message on read deciding to leave the decision to go or not for tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and you decided you had nothing better to do anyway. You made your way to the school deciding a swim wouldn't be so bad.

Upon arriving several of the other girls were already in the locker room changing.

"You came! Hey!" Mina exclaimed happily, noticing you.

"Hey, Ashido," You greeted your classmate back.

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you totally can't wear that cute swimsuit you brought," She said pointing at the suit you were pulling out of your bag.

"Oh really?" You asked confused.

"Yeah we have to wear these dumb school ones," She said handing you one. It was indeed the worst bathing suit you'd seen in your life.

"This is fucking hideous," You said grabbing it from her.

"I know right?! Don't worry though we are all wearing them. It's just even more upsetting since I bought like three cute bathing suits for the summer and now they are all going to waste!" She said dramatically.

You let out a laugh at her exaggerated distress.

"I brought them though! Want to see them?" She said with a big smile.

"Sure," You shrugged as you began to change into the school uniform swimsuit.

"Ok theres this one-, and this one-," Mina said as she pulled out her suits and laid them against herself to model them for you.

"Wow those are cute, I see why you're so upset. Do you think the teachers are really going to notice if we wear our own?"

"Maybe not, but this is the only thing we can do all summer so none of us want to risk it," She said looking downcast.

"Fine-, I guess I will go along with the grandma swimsuit then," You joked.

Mina laughed, "Wow, I had no idea you were this funny. Come on let's catch up with the other girls," She said now that you had finished changing.

You both walked out to the pool finding the other girls tossing around a beach ball.

"Hey! Look who I found!" Mina said, pulling your hand to get into the water with her.

"Oh wow, hi! We are glad you came," Ochaco greeted you.

"Yeah, we haven't been able to get to know you yet," Tsuyu said.

"Uh yeah, hi," You said awkwardly not knowing what else to say.

"Well come on, toss me the ball!" Mina said, breaking up the awkwardness. You tossed the ball back and forth with the rest of the girls. Some complained and shared what they had planned for the summer, and then the conversation turned to speculation about what the new summer training could be. This went on until the conversation was halted when Toru pointed out that some of the boys from class had shown up.

"Oh guess they asked to use the pool too," Mina shrugged and continued to toss the ball.

The boys consisted of Fumikage, Tenya, and Mashirao who quietly stretched by the side of the pool minding their own business. That was until three more boys crashed into the scene and started a commotion.

The beach ball dropped in the water as all the girls turned to see Tenya now lecturing Minoru and Denki. Izuku in the background looked confused by the lecture.

"Oh great the pervs are here. Suddenly I don't mind that I'm in a grandma bathing suit," You said, giving the other girls a laugh.

"Whatever, let's ignore them," Mina said, picking the ball up again and tossing it.

You and the girls ignored the commotion and continued back in conversation tossing the ball back and forth. Until shortly after another disturbance came from the boys. You all looked again this time to see Eijiro attempting to hold Katsuki back from coming at Izuku. Katsuki was yelling something about murdering him.

"Should we make sure that doesn't escalate?" Momo asked moving closer, as Ocohoa was already on her way. The other girls moved in closer as well, except for one.

An audible gasp came from beside you making you jump.

"OMG- TELL ME WHICH ONE!" Mina said with wide eyes and pulling on your arm.

"What?!" You asked confused.

"Oh don't play dumb! You totally got super quiet and all blushy when Kirishima and Bakugo showed up! So, which one is it? Which one do you like?! You have to tell me!" She pleaded.

"I- uh- I don't know what you mean-," You tried to brush her off. Did Mina really notice that? You thought you looked away fast enough that it wouldn't be obvious. It wasn't your fault that the girl's suites weren't revealing at all but the boy's suites were.

"Wait no. I know, it has to be Kirishima because he's the one who suggested I invite you today," She said pensively.

You felt your heart drop. So that was the reason she had reached out, only because Eijiro asked her to?

"Oh I see, that's the reason you invited me." You said looking away from her.

"What?! No! I mean sure he gave me the idea at the mall. But come on, you heard the other girls. We totally wanted to get to know you more!" She said, smiling sweetly.

"Hey uh, Yaoyorozu kind of elected us to help judge the boy's swimming contest," Kyoka said, approaching you both.

"Alright let's do it!" Mina said, pumping her fist in the air.

"How the hell are we supposed to do that," You said, splashing some water.

"Just watch them closely I suppose," Mina said, flashing you a wink.

You felt your cheeks flush again as she pulled you to watch with the rest of the girls.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @anon-mouse223 @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

listening to 'jealous girl' then i realized, another damon req maybe where darlings the one who gets jealous⁉️⁉️

So darling continued their reward system, improving his grades and *also* deepening their situationship relationship they had. Suddenly Damon often texted darling that he wouldn't make it to their study sessions because of training/practice for sm major sports event. Darling was all g w it for a few weeks, taking a break but somehow feeling like smth is missing ykykykykykykyk

so when darling was walking around campus, they saw Damon w a cheerleader whose feelings for Damon were clear¹⁰ and where cheerlesder absolutely despised darling since most students thought darling and damon were a thing due to what happened when it was darlings science quiz bee thing

Everyone knew abt cheerleaders adamant feelings for damon. Cheerleaders clearly getting very buddy buddy with Damon

Sooo darling had their heart ache a bit </3

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! fem! reader Part 2

OOOH will you look at that! Part two of the fic! Decided to make this the part two of Damon's story since the premise is the perfect set up.

TW: bullying

You were quite furious.

Damon has missed another one of your study sessions.

Sure, he's improving (due to the reward system, no less), but he still can't confidently say he already got it down to a pat.

You walked through the busy college campus, saying hi to your new found friends and bowing to professors.

Maybe he's not the only one who got influenced by the other.

You told yourself to calm down. But seriously, the exams are coming up and this is an important one for Damon since it can indicate his stay at his main sports team.

You swore to yourself that you'll help him since your Dean finally gave you an incentive, which is a summer job in a reading camp. That will be placed in your portfolio, and list of credits when graduation rolls over.

Definitely not from the intrinsic want to actually help Damon, definitely not.

Okay, maybe you actually wanted to help Damon.

He's been really sweet, despite the initial dumbness rattling your brain.

Ever since the reward system, he's been improving rapidly in an almost terrifying degree. It's suspicious, but you brushed it off. Especially since this guy is actually quite the genius if he uses his common sense.

That, and those days with him, studying with hushed whispers, salacious touches, and flirty gazes before the inevitable lust filled rewards were satisfying you to the bone.

It's lonely without him and his boisterous personality.

Especially he's been there with you ever since one of your closest friends, Jupiter, died months prior, not knowing Damon was the one who ended him.

In reality, Damon was taking advantage of your grieving state from your friend, consoling you and cheering you up, while feeding your brain of his facade of being this dumb yet adorkable guy. And it worked.

Here you are, walking towards the outside basketball court to sit down on their bleachers, lunch in hand.

You placed down a handkerchief on one of the bleachers and sat down. With your simple sandwich in your palm, you took a bite and gazed towards the rugby field which is on the other side of the road.

Your eyes lightened when you saw Damon, running through the field as the quarterback with the rugby ball in his hand.

You gently chewed on your food, gaze softening as he hoot and hollered with his teammates, looking so happy as he's in his element in the field. With his beloved sports, and his beloved teammates.

It was quite amazing how different he looks from studying with a focused frown on his face, to this annoying smirk he has as he scores touchdown after touchdown.

You decided to step down the bleachers and approach the bench. His rugby teammates recognized you and waved with a grin, inviting you to sit down. Normally, you would shyly decline, but this time you said thank you graciously and sat down beside them. Cheering along.

Your anger with him faded slowly, and was about to approach him to ask about the next study session when a woman bumped you away.

This woman, in her cheering uniform, scoffed when she finally caught a glimpse of you.

"Skank, out of the way." She insulted, which made you gasp. Skank? What?

It made you freeze, and you only got to watch her as she sticked to Damon, wiping his sweat and hugging his arm. It made your skin crawl, a pit on your stomach.

"Sorry, y/n." One of the benched members said, eyeing the girl warily. "She likes Damon, a lot. And is actually quite hostile about you."

"Hostile about me?" You asked, bewildered. "But why? I didn't do anything."

"You say, but everyone knows you and Damon are a thing." He whispered. "Don't worry, she's not gonna be that annoying. Everyone knows Damon is heads over heels on you."

"Oh..." You flushed red before your eyes gazed to Damon once more, who is chuckling as the girl cooed and pouted.

'You say that, but he hasn't seen me at all...' You thought, eyes watering before bowing and going away, defeated.

Ever since then, you stopped pestering him about the study sessions.

You only sent him PDFs about new topics, but that's it. No more.

You also ignored most of his texts, yet there was only seldom of them too.

You can feel the gap between you widen, and widen... And widen.

The cheerleader continued to rub it in your face too, everywhere Damon went, she went. Feeding him, like the slimy, little, two-faced, bitchy, mistress she is--!

You calmed down suddenly, shame creeping your neck from thinking those things.

"Calm down, this isn't you." You told yourself, gripping your pen tightly. You looked down at your phone and sighed. With Damon gone, you realized that sure, you had friends, but you don't really have a best friend after Jupiter died. And now, looking at Jupiter's photo as his 7th monthsary death is coming, you felt lonelier than ever.

It was almost childish how Venus, the cheerleader, kept bad mouthing you. Saying that YOU were the one who got between them, YOU were the one who went away, YOU were the one who was finding another guy.

Painting you to be the bad person.

Sure, not a lot of people believed her, but those who do are very vocal about it. Claiming that you were a whore who was spreading your legs despite being a nerd.

This is one of the rare times when you wish the ground swallowed you whole. You were already in college for gods' sake! And they were talking and bullying like this is some highschool drama. It's so shameful!

And you found yourself seeking Damon, who's in the heart of the problem. But he's not saying anything about it. Only focusing on his sports. You heard he's on his way to be a guaranteed part of the national team, so he's really busy.

You asked his teammates too if he's aware of the rumors, he shakes his head apparently, before asking if it's important. Sure, they only asked if he knew about this rumor about you, but other than that, they didn't elaborate on it in respect to you.

You were honestly about to snap from how Venus is being too mean to you. She can have him! Just leave you alone.

But noooo she wants to make your life a living hell like the bitch she is.

With no other choice, you sent a long text to Damon.

Anger fueled, but you know this is the only way he'll wake up from being too oblivious and slap him from reality.

Your hands shook as you raked your fingers through your hair, before hitting the block button finally on him. You're moving on from this guy. You don't give a shit anymore.

But, you only heard by next day that Venus...

"Venus transferred schools? What happened? Oh my god..."

You felt wonder. But you cannot deny that a teenie, weenie sick sense of satisfaction settled inside of you like a guilty sinner.

The day Damon received the text.

Damon was about to keel over.

He wants to see you so bad. Hug you, kiss you, touch you, fuck you...

He's so deprived of your presence that even glimpses of your hair was enough to set him off.

But he stopped himself. After the coach threatened him to scrape him off from the national team recommendation.

Sure, his grades are improving, but he's been neglecting his sports. With a triple "s".

He wants to choke his past self from taking up so many sports teams. Now he can't even see you until the recommendation tournament.

You've stopped pestering him, and he bit his lip. You never even went to find him. What's worse, is that he can't find you or else the coach will chew him out. Even the Dean was in on it too like she wasn't the one who recommended you to him.

He swore to himself that once the tournament is of, he'll crawl back in your arms and spoil you greatly. He can't have anyone getting too close to you after Jupiter. And from his informants, you've only been by yourself other than your friends. This satisfied him greatly too.

But now, it's been weeks since then, and he just wants to lash out on everyone and kidnap you to satisfy his needs, wants, and love.

Then, that unique message ping came. One that he knew that it was from you. So he opened his phone with a grin, but faltered when he saw the content.

Hey, Damon. It's been a while.

I know you don't care about me anymore, and that's fine. We were only like... A situation. Friends, if we're even friends, with benefits. I tutored you, and you taught me other stuff or whatever. Now, we drifted off, and it's fair that you won't care about me anymore. But please! REEL IN YOUR GIRLFRIEND! We've never met for months already and she's still fucking harassing the shit out of me! We're already done, what can she not understand about that?!

Anyways, please. Tell her to fuck off or this will reach her Dean's ears.

Girlfriend? He doesn't have a girlfriend. You were his partner, right? He thought you knew that. But girlfriend? Who?

He looked up dread feeling him as that pit settled his stomach. No. No way.

His eyes found Venus, who's running towards him with a smile again. One that he wants to wipe that goddamn mug off of the face of the earth.

Did this bitch do something to you?

He's been so out of touch lately due to training and training and training. And this clingy woman was someone he wanted to get rid off.

What you didn't see is his forced smiles, the simple shrug offs, the polite No's... But this Venus girl can't take no for an answer until he just accepts it with chills crawling on his back.

He can't exactly be rude and say what he's actually feeling after all. He's supposed to be this dumb fucking himbo who don't know social cues at all.

Oh, but he knows. He knows that this woman wants to be with him. To be his girlfriend, to make him hers. But good grief Damon wants to barf from being touched by her. It felt so wrong being touched by someone who's not you.

"Hey guys." Damon jogged towards his teammates who flinched and looked away. "... What's with you know... y/n?"

They all avoided his gaze before one finally spoke up.

"Finally giving her attention? Bastard?"

Damon was bewildered. Bastard? What?

"Did you know that your childish girlfriend over there has been harassing y/n for weeks?" He growled out, annoyed. "Oh of course you don't know. You always don't know. You're too clueless of everything!"

That was his persona! But this time he's actually clueless.

"Can you just tell me, please. What did Venus do?" Damon desperately said, his heartbeat going haywire.

"Bullying, spreading misinformation, pushing hate on her. The drill. I don't want to say this in respect for y/n, but you are the center of the problem and must know about it. We're hitting showers. See ya." He, muttered, before rolling his eyes and walking away with the other teammates.

Damon went cold once more and ran around the campus and the whole University, asking what's happening and how far this harassment went.

Everyone was surprised by his reactions. They thought he didn't care. But now he's here running rampant in such desperation. So they told him what happened.

Rumor, after rumor, bullying after bullying... It all stacked on Damon's mind that he almost gasped from the weight of it all. It didn't even stay in their college only, but it spread the whole Uni.

"Oh god..." Damon whispered, a pit on his stomach now ablazed with anger, fury, and wrath.

It was so late. He was so late. But he'd rather die than to leave this to fate.

So he found himself, hauling Venus' asleep body up to an upright board in his basement. After inviting Venus to a drink, she foolishly thought they'll spend the night together tangled in bed, but now, he's waiting for her to wake up as he sharpened his tools. His heart bled for you, and now Venus will pay the prize.

No, he will not kill her. That's too merciful.

He'll make her suffer as much as possible.

"Holy shit... Y/n! Look!"

"What? I'm busy studying here."

"No I swear, you want to see this!"

You sighed and went to the window. Surprised to see that a lot of students are by the window looking down. So you went there and gasped in bewilderment.

"Y/N! PLEASE!"

Damon was there, holding a microphone and looking to your dorm room. He has bags upon bags of gifts by his feet and his teammates spelling out "i'm sorry" with placards.

"I AM SO SORRY! VENUS MEANT NOTHING TO ME! SHE WAS ONLY LIKE THIS CLINGY LEECH THAT I CANNOT SHAKE OFF!"

Damon was so desperate, his hands shaking as he tried to fight off tears from his eyes.

"YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH ME! SLAP ME, PUNCH ME! I CAN TAKE IT JUST PLEASE TAKE ME BACK!"

He heaved a sob tears spilling. He doesn't give a fuck about the nationals anymore.

"I WILL COURT YOU EVERYDAY UNTIL WE GOT BACK TOGETHER!" He promised, his voice suddenly turning almost childish as he hiccuped while talking because of how hard he's crying right now. "And-and I'll apologize... *hic* everyday... *hic* and i'll kneel and serve you... *hic*..."

Everyone was cooing, feeling pity for him. But knew it's up to you to forgive him since it's not their place to do so.

You sighed and got down to his side, looking at his face before standing and giving a peck on his cheek.

"Now stop crying, you're embarasing me." You whispered. "Maybe not now that I can forgive you, but i'll let you court me."

He stopped, eyes widening before finally letting the dam flow and crying loudly like a little kid.

"DARLING!" He wailed, hugging you tight. "I AM SO SORRYYYYYY!"

You gave a small smile, not minding the slightly ironic smell from him as he clutched you close to his body.