#please talk with me about them. this is a cry for help

[holorform2009]

ђєll๏ tђєгє

You stopped running, you make sure you are far away from those two as you breath heavily for air, you did what he told you to and so you did. But right now, you don't know where you are. Oh wait. You do!

This is the spot where you woke up, and definitely the spot where you got chased by that red boy, you let out a sigh, already exhausted by running. Something caught your eyes, when you look up it was a black headphones with an R logo on it. Curious, you approached the object and picked it up in your tiny hands.

You wonder who is the owner of this headphone.

You decided to wear it, for now. You should find the owner to give it back, maybe you can find the other survivors in the process.

As you wander aimlessly in this place, you saw a generator but in your eyes it looked like an ice cooler box. You moved closer looking at it with curiosity wondering what to do. You noticed there's a colorful wires inside, what you did next was touching it. You expected it to cause a spark when touched but nothing happens, so you gently grab a wire knowing it's safe to touch. As you inspect it you noticed how there is two colors of each wires so you begin to connect the dots by connect the same colors of the wires.

You started off slow, small hands carefully arranged the wires, connecting each of them as you were getting the hang of it. You felt so proud doing this. As you were about to finish the last wire, you were suddenly hoisted up in the air and a pair of hands grabbed you before you fall down as you let out an "oof—!" noise.

"Oh why hello there! GUYS LOOK! I FOUND THEM!"

"Hah?—" you let out a noise of confusion and at the same time startled when the stranger suddenly picked you up like you were some kind of kitten picked up on the street.

You looked at him in the eye, your eyes wide with surprised and maybe a little bit of fear.

"Found the kid that boss told us about!"

"Who—?"

Soon, you were surrounded by four man and all of them looked at you as they began to talk about you. "Can– uh.. can you put me down?" You muttered nervously as one of the henchman reached to your face and pinched your cheek.

"Ow–!" You slapped his hand away. "Can you put me down please? It's uncomfortable..." You wiggled in his grasp.

"Hey isn't that boss' hat?"

"Why do they look like someone?"

"Wait, something is missing!"

Are you serious? All of them didn't listen. And before you know it, a shade was placed in your face.

"Now they look like Chance!"

"Ayyy a mini chance!"

"Uh guys..."

"What?"

"They're crying..."

"Oh shi—" a hand slapped his mouth shut.

"sniff sniff— WAA–- AAAAH!!" You cried as you flailed your arms, wiggling in his grasp. This time, the man who is holding you, finally placed you down.

"oh shoot!— we're sorry!"

When you began to cry, the four of them tried to make you stop crying but to no avail. "What do we do??? Boss is going to kill us!"

"I dunno know! You started it!"

"What do you mean I started it!?"

"Guys– you're not helping. The kid is crying—"

"Shut up dude! You're not helping either!"

SLAP!

"WAAH— Eheha! AAAH!"

"Did they just—"

"I've got an idea" a smile creeped up on his face as he looked at his fellow buddy. "No please don't. I know what you're going to d—"

SLAP!

Your cries slowly turning into giggles. "Dude, do it again it's working!" "Ow! No please no!"

SLAP!

"OW! STOP THAT!"

"Sorry bro but I can't, gotta make them stop crying. Don't want our boss to see them like this" Then the three man began to torture the poor guy for the sake of you to stop crying. "Stop hitting yourself man" he laughed as he grabbed his hand to forcefully hit his own face "ACK— STOP!"

In the distance, 007n7 saw it all. Even Two Time. "Um.. should we help them? The child is in danger–"

"No no, let them be. It doesn't seem like they are trying to hurt the young one. The spawn is with them after all."

"..yeah... righttt...." 007n7 says sightly sarcastically as he looked back to where you are in worry. Who wouldn't be worried when he saw you crying? Especially a child. The parental instincts inside him kicked in.

Two Time stopped him, noticing how the father begins to take step forward. "Don't, the spawn told me it's very risky. There are four of them, and it's just the two of us." Well his not wrong. Both of them doesn't have the ability to stun, the only survivor that have that abilities are Shedletsky, Guest, Taph, and Chance.

"For now, let's back away. We don't want them to know we are here, otherwise you want to be killed next."

"Right..."

[suuuupernovaaa]

been thinkin’ bout you

summary: you’ve been thinking about joel, not realizing he’s been thinking about you too

warnings/tags: 18+, smut, jackson joel, HEA

Even through the flannel shirt, I can see the muscles in his back and arms as Joel lifts the solid wood over his shoulder, hauling it up the steps and inside Paulette’s house to assist her with repairs to her kitchen.

God, what do those muscles look like unwrapped? If I could just undo the buttons, one by one, and peel that shirt off of him…

A sharp elbow in my side snaps me from my fantasy, and I turn, already glaring at the woman next to me.

“You’re doing it again,” Maryanne says, a teasing grin on her face. I roll my eyes at her, but there’s no real malice behind it. She’s been my closest friend for years.

I stand up from where the two of us were sitting in the town square. “I can’t help it,” I tell her with a shrug, and she sighs as she always does when I talk endlessly about Joel. She’s a saint, letting me do it, but I’m sure she’s tired of hearing about it. “Gotta get to work. Stop by later.”

She nods and lifts her coffee to her lips, and I jog down the snow dusted street to my modest two story home. The paint is peeling and the porch is sagging, and I’m proud to call her mine.

Inside the front door is a small waiting room next to the stairs, only a few chairs and what books I could spare, plus a small bin of donated toys, and to the right of that is the town clinic. One cushioned table for a patient, a supply cabinet, and a couple plain chairs.

When the town was established as a safe haven in 2016, my parents became the town physicians. My mother had been an OBGYN before the world fell, and my father a surgeon. Together, they knew enough to keep the people Jackson relatively healthy, with what supplies were available.

I’d been 26 at the time, and thought I’d received no formal education - because it was no longer truly something available to me - I’d been receiving training from my parents from the day the clinic was established, until their deaths a year earlier. Thanks to them, I too now know enough to keep the townsfolk (relatively) healthy, with very few supplies. They come to me with aches and pains, illnesses, injuries, and the occasional birth, and I do my best not to let them down.

A steady stream of patients is in and out today, much like any other. A crying toddler with an ear infection. A construction worker with a nasty cut and a bad attitude. A mother entering her third trimester with her first child.They pay however they can, or not at all, and I’m happy to serve them.

Early afternoon, the door bell dings. I’m sitting across from the clinic and my desk, updating my patient records, and don’t spare a glance up.

“Be right with you!” I call cheerfully, but get no response. Finishing my notes on my previous patient - a sprained ankle - I stand up and tuck the file away before exiting my office.

My breath is cut from my lungs when I see Joel Miller standing there, holding his bloody hand in a dirty cloth, looking at me with tired eyes.

xxx

Joel has done his best to avoid the little white house just off the main square since he settled in Jackson, and he’s done a good job, almost a year, until now.

The cut is too deep, bleeding too much, and even he knows he can’t avoid seeing her now.

Something about the young doctor unnerves him. Her brown eyed stare is intense. Her smile is practiced and polished. He finds her looking at him too often, though she looks away if their eyes meet.

“Joel, what happened?” she asks in that steady, smooth voice of hers, pouring from her lips like honey, as she ushers him into the room where she sees her patients.

He clears his throat. “Accident on the job, hand just slipped,” he tells her.

She nods, pursing her lips, which he notices, not for the first time, are full and soft. There’s a freckle dead center on her bottom lip, and he’s imagined running his finger over it once or twice.

“Sit, please,” she drawls, and he obeys.

She works in silence as she cleans the wound, and numbs the area around the cut, which is just on his palm near his thumb.

Every time she touches him, he tenses up, and he wonders why that is. Why she makes him feel this way.

Maybe it’s because he’s noticing the little flecks of gold in her brown eyes, or the way her curls seem to be doing their best to escape the braid she’s trapped them in, or the way the knitted grey sweatshirt she’s wearing can’t conceal the figure underneath.

She’s one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen.

“I would tell you to be more careful,” she says, glancing up at him as she works to close the wound, “but I’m sure you don’t need to hear it.”

He grunts, and she smiles, her lips pulling back to reveal dimples in her cheeks. His pulse rises.

“How’d you, uh, learn all this? Weren’t you too young to be a doctor before?”

She reaches behind her for some bandages, and turns back to him with a smile. “I was 13 in 2003,” she tells him, and Joel does some quick mental math. She’s only 33. So young, but so confident, so self assured, and so fucking gorgeous.

“My parents were both doctors, and they did their best to teach me what they knew.” He can hear in her voice, how much she misses them. Everybody here misses someone.

“Well, they did a good job,” he says, and the look she gives him in response nearly stops his heart. She beams at him, smiling ear to ear, and holds his injured hand in hers.

“Thank you, Joel.”

xxx

It’s a marvel that my hands aren’t shaking as I bandage his newly sewn wound. Joel has never come into the clinic before, and while I don’t wish anyone to be sick, I’ve always hoped he’d find a reason to visit, just so we’d have an excuse to talk.

I don’t know if he can feel it too, or if it’s just in my head, but the tension in the room is making me feel dizzy. I’ve never been this close to him, and it’s intoxicating.

He’s a man of few words, but the fact that he used those few words to compliment me has my head spinning. And has me feeling unusually bold.

As he stands up and grabs his coat, he says, “I don’t have payment, but I noticed your porch is crooked. I can fix it, if you want.”

I wave my hand in the air, even though the image of Joel working with his hands, sweaty, maybe even shirtless (a total dream, since it’s cold outside), on my porch, is the most enticing thought I’ve ever had.

“No payment necessary.”

He shakes his head, a cold look of determination on his handsome features.

“Once I’m done at Paulette’s in a few days, I’ll be down to fix it for you.”

He doesn’t say another word before walking out the door.

xxx

True to his word, in four days, Joel is back at my house with a wagon of supplies. He arrives early in the morning before any patients are set to come, and I greet him at the door still in pajamas, holding coffee.

He wastes no time with chatting, and gets right to work after explaining that my patients will need to use the side door for a few days.

It’s unnerving, knowing he’s right out there. Between appointments I offer him food, drinks and company, and he humors me by accepting, and mostly listening to me talk while he eats whatever sandwich I’ve made him.

I find myself wondering if I can find other projects around the house, just to keep him there.

By the third day, I can tell he’s nearly finished. I escort my latest patient out the side door with instructions on how to take care of a minor burn, and then join Joel by the porch.

“It looks wonderful, Joel. You’re amazing,” I say with a smile, and he nearly returns it, his lips twitching upward for just a second. If he actually smiled at me, it might knock me off my already unsteady feet.

“Should have it finished today.”

My heart sinks all the way down to my feet, and I wrap my jacket tight around myself. “Let me take you to dinner. As a thanks.”

“Porch was already a thanks,” he replies, holding up his hand, still bandaged.

“Well… I can make you dinner. Tonight. How about that?”

He glances at the porch, and then at me, and his expression is impossible to read.

“Sure, dinner sounds good.”

xxx

I can’t fucking cook. Why the fuck did I invite Joel for dinner? He’s already had the best I can do - sandwiches. Plain ass sandwiches.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

The dinner I’m throwing together looks like hell. It started off as soup but something happened to it, the texture is gritty and thick, and even though the flavor is pretty okay, it’s still an embarrassing meal to serve to anyone.

Especially an anyone that you’re obsessed with.

But Joel is knocking on the door and there’s no time to fix this horrifying mess, so I take off my stupid apron and hang it on the hook, then greet him with a practiced smile.

Damn, he looks handsome. Jeans just tight enough, and a blue and green flannel unbuttoned over a gray t-shirt.

He’s holding a bottle of wine, which he extends to me. It must be from Paulette - she brews it in her cellar.

“Oh wow, thank you!” I say, taking it and ushering him into the kitchen, where I find my wine opener. “Okay, so, this dinner is not going to be very good. Please don’t destroy the porch as retribution,” I say with a laugh as I pull the cork from the wine.

When I turn, I expect to find Joel across the kitchen, maybe sitting at the table, but he’s directly behind me.

I nearly bump into him, he’s so close, staring down at me with an unreadable expression that stops me in my tracks and leaves my jaw hanging open.

“I don’t really care about the food,” he says in his deep, crawling drawl, and it sends shivers up my spine. He plucks the wine bottle and opener from my hands, and sets them on the counter next to me, next to my pot of failed soup.

“Oh,” is all I can think of in reply, because I really cannot tell what is happening.

Until Joel reaches out, his fingers brushing so gently along my cheek for hands so rough, and tucks a stray curl behind my ear. His gaze lingers over my face, and then trails downward.

“Oh,” I say again in understanding, as a nervous coil begins to form low in my belly.

“Oh,” Joel echoes, staring at me with such intensity that I shiver. I step closer to him, closing the already small gap between us, and reach up to grab the collar of his shirt.

It takes no effort to pull him down, until his lips are a breath away from mine.

He smells like winter, like the outdoors that he spends so much of his time in, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath of him in, my shoulders shuddering when I let it out.

“Oh,” I say once more, before his mouth captures mine in a kiss that starts off tentative, unsure, and deepens into something startlingly passionate, and I can’t help but let out a small moan.

One of his strong hands wraps around the back of my neck, while his other arm circles my waist, pinning me flush to him.

I don’t even realize he’s backing me up until I bump into the counter, and I wrap my arms around his neck as his hands fall to my waist, and squeeze.

A moment later, our lips still locked, he lifts me up by my hips and sets me on the counter.

I squeal in surprise, and feel him smile against my lips. My hands find their way into his hair, and I moan into his mouth when his hips push forward into mine, eager and demanding. I spread my legs, wrapping them around him, desperate to pull him closer to me.

He breaks our kiss then, and trails his mouth, hot and wet, down my jaw and my neck, and I lean back, exposing as much of myself as possible to him.

His hands grip my hips tightly, grinding me against him, and I feel breathless and light headed.

“Maybe…” I say, mustering all of the strength I possess, “maybe we should go upstairs.”

“Mhm,” he says in return, and steps away slowly, as if it pains him to do it, and sets me on the ground. He stares at me like I’m a meal and he hasn’t eaten in weeks. “Lead the way.”

I take his hand in mine and pull him up what now feels like the longest set of stairs that’s ever existed, to the first room on the right.

It’s a little messy, as I truly had not imagined Joel returned my interest, and wouldn’t have imagined all this even if he had, but at least the bed is made.

For now. I yell in surprise when Joel picks me up like I weigh nothing and tosses me into my queen sized bed, and stares down at me again with that intense look.

As he crawls to me, parting my legs once more, he says, “I’ve seen you staring at me.”

A blush creeps across my cheeks. He hooks his knee behind mine, spreading my legs wider and settling between them, his firm body pressed to mine.

“I knew you wanted me,” he says quietly, his lips ghosting over mine. “I wanted to bend you over your desk when I came in with my bloody hand.”

A small gasp escapes my lips, and he dips his head to bite the soft flesh of my neck.

“I would have let you,” I reply.

He chuckles. The deep sound of it sends ripples up my spine. “I know.”

He kisses my neck and collar bone tenderly as his hand trails down my side, and begins slowly pulling the skirt I’m wearing up and up, until it’s bunched around my waist.

His fingers tease the waistband of my panties, and I squirm with need.

His mouth finds mine again as his fingers dip below my panty line, finding soaking wet core. He lets out a deep moan, and I buck my hips, desperate for more.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he drawls.

“Need you,” I breathe.

His fingers work at a punishing pace that has me gasping and wriggling beneath him as I beg and curse at him.

No one has touched me like this in so long, and even when they did, it was nothing like Joel. His rough hands, the way he looks at me, kissing me and whispering to me as he goes, it brings me to the edge quicker than I thought possible.

I moan his name as I tumble over, my orgasm taking me by surprise.

“Yes, say my name,” he replies, and doesn’t let up until I ask him to.

He kisses me again as I lay there, feeling boneless but still needing more - needing him.

“Take your clothes off,” I demand, suddenly away that we’re both still fully clothed, which feels childish and exciting at the same time.

He smirks down at me. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he stands to remove his jeans and flannel, I pull my white tshirt over my head, and remove my skirt and ruined underwear next.

He pauses, boxers still on, and stares at me, naked on the bed.

Fuck, he’s perfect. Strong and sturdy and so much a man that I feel I might die if he doesn’t get back on the bed soon.

“You’re perfect,” he says in that deep drawl of his, echoing my own thoughts, and I can’t help but blush. I crawl off the bed and walk to him, grabbing his hand.

With a hand on his chest, I push him to the bed, and he allows me to, falling backwards.

He gazes at me hungrily as I crawl over him, and pull his boxers off and toss them into the floor.

The intake of breath from him is sharp when I straddle him. He’s so fucking big, but I’m so fucking ready.

His calloused hands grip my hips as I tease him, rubbing my pussy over his hard length. I feel powerful when he moans and his hips stir. I want to drive him as crazy as he’s been driving me.

I lift up and position him at my entrance, and his eyes meet mine, practically begging me for it.

Slowly, I settle down into him, inch by inch, letting myself stretch to accommodate his size.

“Fuck,” I moan, the word drawn out as my head falls back and I seat myself on him fully. Nothing has ever felt this good, not in my entire life. “Joel…”

“Yes, baby. Move for me,” he says gently, but it’s a demand. I look down at him, see the determination in his eyes, and start to move.

He hisses as I do, still gripping my hips, guiding me.

He hits every spot I need him to, so fucking deep inside me, and another orgasm starts building immediately.

So quickly, Joel flips us over, so I’m face down on the bed, and I yelp in surprise.

“I need to really fuck you, baby. Hard.”

He pulls my hips up, spreading my legs, and slams into me. I scream when he does it, and the scream melts into a moan as he pulls out of me and slams back in again, the sound of flesh on flesh hitting my ears.

“Oh fuck, Joel. Oh fuck!”

“Yes, that’s right,” he says in a strained voice as he begins to lose control, fucking me hard and fast, the pressure building and building. I grip the sheets below me and my eyes water.

“You belong to me,” he says, leaning closer to whisper in my ear. “You’re mine now. Say it.”

“I’m yours. Oh fuck, I’m yours.”

His pace is punishing, and perfect. It doesn’t take long before I’m cumming again, my walls gripping him tight, and pulling him over the edge with me.

xxx

He hadn’t planned to do any of that. He had planned to sit for dinner, ask her questions about herself, try to be - as Ellie had said - charming.

It flew out the fucking window the moment she opened the door. She was always covered up outside, wearing a jacket or sweater, and at the clinic, she’d dressed professionally. Still, he could see how beautiful she was.

It was nothing compared to the sight of her in that white tshirt, tight across her chest, and the floral skirt hanging from her hips with a slit so far up the side it made his heart stop for a minute.

Her hair, usually braided or pulled back, hung in wild curls around her shoulders, much longer than he’d known it was, and it made his mouth dry.

There could be no sitting through dinner, no talking - that could be after.

Joel had not needed anyone this way in a long time. Maybe ever. He had to have her, had to let her know she belonged to him, not just tonight but every night after.

The quiet doctor who stared at him, who was so gentle and kind and intelligent, who turned out to be absolutely filthy, just like he’d hoped.

She lay on his chest afterward, her coarse curls tickling his bare chest, and she squeezed him tightly, as if she was worried he was going to get up and bolt.

He struggled for the words now, to tell her that wasn’t going to happen. Now that he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go, this one bright thing he’d found for himself.

“I, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t eat your dinner. You know, first,” he said, and it’s not what he’d meant to say. It’s just what came out.

She laughed, the sound like church bells. “It’s really bad, Joel. I can’t cook. I just invited for your dinner because I was desperate for a date with you.”

His heart warmed, and he squeezed her shoulder.

She lifted her head, propping herself up on his chest, and smiled down at him.

“I’m just going to ask and if it’s awkward after, then so be it,” she said. “Was this a one time thing, for you?”

He could see it in her eyes, how desperately she wanted him to say no. Her lips darted from his eyes to his lips and back.

“No, it wasn’t,” he replied, and together, they both relaxed. The tension left their bodies, as that line was drawn.

Not a one time thing.

“I meant what I said,” Joel told the woman in his arms.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“You’re mine now.”

A shy smile pulled at her lips, and despite all they’d just done, a blush painted her freckled cheeks. She kissed him gently once, twice, three times.

“Then you’re mine, too.”

She couldn’t imagine how fine that was with him.

[cassiemaebarnes]

Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Masterlist

Bucky x reader

Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.

Word Count: 5903

Sorry for the wait!! I got busy this week with exams and work😭 but I made this chapter a little longer to hopefully make up for it! I'll try to get the next part out a little quicker😊

While the others made their way to the meeting, you crutched over to the couch and sat down, not bothering to elevate your ankle. It was feeling a lot better, and although there was still some bruising, it wasn’t very swollen anymore.

You scrolled through your phone for about an hour before you heard the elevator ding and the voices of the others cut through the silence. When you looked up, once again, Bucky was the first one into the common room, coming over and immediately taking a seat beside you. His arm went to the back of the couch and his hand found your shoulder like it was all second nature.

“Hey doll,” he said, smirking at you.

You just gave him a look, but you couldn’t stop the smile from coming onto your face as you let out a little laugh.

Before you could get a word in, the rest of the team started filing into the room one by one, voices echoing and conversations overlapping, but every single one of them seemed to slow their step the second they saw you and Bucky.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned dramatically, dropping into the armchair across from you. “The way you two look at each other makes me sick.”

Tony, trailing behind, sipped from his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself. It’s kinda cute, actually. Like a dating site commercial. So in love, it’s nauseating.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn’t move his hand.

Nat leaned over the side of the couch, glancing between the two of you. “Honestly, I think it’s sweet. Gross, but sweet.”

You groaned into your hands. “I can’t even sit on a couch anymore?”

“You can,” Clint said from the kitchen, “but do it like a normal person, not like you’re starring in The Notebook: Avengers Edition.”

You shot Bucky a sideways glance, and he looked far too pleased with himself.

Steve finally walked in, glanced around at the chaos, and sighed. “Alright, enough. We’re not doing this again.”

“You say that every day,” Sam muttered.

Steve ignored him and turned to you. “I actually wanted to talk to you for a sec. You’re cleared to start physical therapy tomorrow.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“It’ll be light,” Steve added, nodding toward your ankle. “But yeah. That means you should try putting a little weight on it today, see how it feels. Get used to it again.”

You glanced down at your ankle, then at your crutches resting beside the couch. “Okay…I can try.”

“I’ll help you,” Bucky added immediately.

A beat of silence passed before the others cut in.

Sam clutched his chest. “Oh my god, he's her emotional support soldier.”

Tony looked like he was about to cry. “They grow up so fast.”

Steve just shook his head, like he regretted every decision that brought this team together.

--

For the next hour, you were all lounging in the common room while conversations bounced lazily around the space. You’d been sipping water for the last hour, and now…nature was calling.

You sighed and pushed the blanket off your lap, slowly swinging your legs over the edge of the couch.

Immediately, Bucky sat up straighter.

“Where are you going?” he asked, already getting to his feet like he had a sixth sense for when you were about to move.

You gave him a look, amused. “Bathroom.”

He nodded without hesitation. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

You barely had time to react before the others caught on.

Sam practically fell off the chair. “Help her?” he cackled. “What are you gonna do, hold her hand while she pees?”

Nat nearly choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Bucky. Boundaries, man.”

Clint leaned forward, elbows on his knees, grinning. “Is this a two-person operation now? You gonna give her a pep talk from the doorway?”

Tony didn’t even look up from his tablet. “Let’s just be clear: if you’re gone more than 5 minutes, we’re shutting this whole thing down.”

You were laughing so hard you had to grab the arm of the couch to steady yourself, shaking your head. “I can pee on my own, guys. I just need help walking.”

“I’m just saying,” Sam added, “you two get more domestic every day. I’m waiting for him to start pre-heating the toilet seat for you.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you wheezed.

Bucky just shook his head and offered you his hand. “C’mon, before they start planning our retirement.”

You took his hand and stood up slowly, still chuckling. “You’re not even denying it anymore.”

“I learned my lesson,” he said dryly. “Denial just gives them more material.”

As you hobbled your way toward the hall with Bucky at your side, you heard Tony call after you, “Remember to leave the door cracked, lovebirds. We need updates!”

You flipped him off behind your back without even turning around.

And as the two of you disappeared down the hall, the laughter behind you only got louder.

When you and Bucky returned to the common room, you walked in like it was no big deal – you leaning on his arm, walking a little better now but still wincing every few steps. He was quiet and calm beside you, his hand hovering near your waist like he was ready to catch you again if you so much as wobbled.

Naturally, the second you crossed into the room, you were met with more teasing.

Sam sat up straighter on the couch, eyes already glinting. “Well, well, well. Took you long enough.”

Nat smirked from where she was perched on the arm of the loveseat. “Everything come out okay?”

You stopped walking and gave them a flat look. “Really? That’s where we’re going with this?”

Clint let out a low whistle. “You sure you didn’t sprain more than your ankle in there?”

Tony looked up from his tablet. “I’m just saying, you could’ve walked on your ankle with your crutches for assistance instead of Bucky.”

You groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “We were gone for two minutes.”

Bucky sat beside you calmly, completely composed.

Then–

“Well,” he said, voice casual, “I did help her with a few things.”

You froze.

So did everyone else.

“…Excuse me?” you said, blinking at him.

He turned to you with a fake-innocent expression. “What? You needed help standing… balancing…”

You narrowed your eyes. “Bucky.”

He smirked, slow and dangerous, the kind of smirk that meant he knew exactly what he was doing. “I mean, I offered more help. She said no.”

Gasps all around.

“BUCKY!” you yelled, eyes wide as your hand smacked against his arm.

Sam howled, falling sideways into the cushions. “OH MY GOD. He’s unhinged.”

“Buck!” Steve choked, genuinely shocked but laughing anyway. “What happened to ‘respectful silence’?”

Nat was doubled over, her face buried in a throw pillow. “He’s corrupted! He’s fully gone.”

“I take no responsibility,” Tony said, raising his hands. “This is entirely on Sleeping Beauty.”

You were still glaring at Bucky. “You are so lucky I can’t run right now.”

He just leaned back into the couch, completely unbothered. “Just saying…if she ever needs other help…”

You gasped again, smacking his chest with the back of your hand before hiding your face as the room exploded into another round of laughter.

“DID YOU HEAR HIM?!” Clint yelled, nearly in tears. “This man’s got material.”

Wanda wiped a tear from her eye. “Winter Soldier’s gone full flirt mode.”

Bucky glanced sideways at you, his smirk softening just slightly. “What? I’m just being helpful.”

You peeked at him from behind your hands, face burning. “You’re gonna get me murdered by this team.”

“Nah,” he murmured, “they’d never kill the star of their favorite rom-com.”

You let out a helpless little groan and dropped your face onto his shoulder.

And Bucky just wrapped his arm around you like he’d done nothing wrong at all.

--

A little while later, Wanda looked up from the puzzle she was half-attempting with Vision. “I’m bored, we should put on a movie.”

“I second that,” Sam said, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Since we can never decide on a movie, we should draw genres,” Wanda suggested. “Make it fair. Everyone writes one, toss them in a bowl, we pick blind.”

Everyone mumbled in agreement, and within minutes, a makeshift bowl of hastily scribbled paper scraps sat on the coffee table.

Steve was chosen as the unbiased picker. He dramatically shuffled them, reached in, and unfolded one with a raised brow.

He stared at it.

“…Rom-com.”

A beat.

The room groaned and cheered simultaneously.

Sam looked personally offended. “You’re kidding.”

Nat grinned. “Let the chaos begin.”

Tony threw his arms up. “YES. We’re going full heart-eyes tonight.”

Wanda turned to you with a knowing look. “You’re getting off easy. Rom-com’s practically your genre.”

You tried to hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Okay, okay,” Clint called. “What are we watching? It has to be a classic.”

“10 Things I Hate About You,” Nat said immediately. “It’s not even up for debate.”

There were a few half-hearted objections, but no one could argue.

Soon, the movie was up, lights dimmed, snacks passed around, and everyone was claiming their spots.

You were still on the couch beside Bucky, a shared blanket draped over both your laps. His arm was still settled comfortably behind your shoulders, fingertips just brushing your upper arm. You curled your good leg underneath you, your knee resting gently against Bucky’s thigh.

He didn’t move away.

As the opening scenes rolled, the background chatter faded, replaced by soft laughter and the sounds of popcorn crunching.

A little while into the movie, Bucky’s hand – the one not around your shoulders – shifted beneath the blanket.

Without warning, his fingers brushed lightly against your leg.

Then rested right on your thigh, just above your knee.

You froze.

Your breath caught for half a second. The contact was casual – warm and steady – but somehow it made your whole body buzz.

He didn’t look at you. Didn’t say anything. Just left his hand there, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You tried to focus on the movie, you really did.

But your heart was pounding.

After a few moments, though, the initial jolt settled. His touch wasn’t demanding or heavy, it just was. And it grounded you, made your chest ache in the nicest way.

You exhaled slowly, eyes drifting toward the screen again.

And that’s when Sam, of course, turned from the floor, where he was sprawled on a bean bag, and narrowed his eyes.

“Hey.”

You and Bucky both looked over.

Sam pointed at the two of you under the blanket. “What’s Barnes doing under there?”

Your mouth dropped open. “Sam.”

“No, no, I’m just asking,” he said, hands raised. “Because that blanket’s suspiciously still and I’ve seen that man break necks with his pinky. You’re telling me he hasn’t moved in twenty minutes?”

Bucky, still calm, still casual, raised a brow. “I’m watching the movie.”

“Are you?” Clint chimed in from the armchair. “Because from here it looks like your hand’s on a side quest.”

The room erupted into snickering.

“Where’s the hand, Barnes?” Tony called dramatically. “We need visual confirmation.”

The room went quiet for a beat, anticipation thick in the air.

Then Bucky, without missing a beat, deadpanned, “Can’t show you. It’s classified.”

The group howled.

“BUCKY!” you gasped, smacking his chest with the back of your hand as your jaw dropped. “What is wrong with you?!”

He just shrugged, clearly proud of himself, that smug little smirk tugging at his mouth.

Clint nearly fell off his chair. “He said classified. I’m crying.”

Sam was doubled over, slapping his leg. “Is it stuck? Blink twice if you need help, y/n!”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in Bucky’s shoulder as the laughter got louder.

Tony clapped once. “Confirmed: he’s gone full feral. I knew this day would come.”

Nat laughed into her mug. “Honestly? Kinda impressed.”

You were trying to bury your face in Bucky’s side now, half-laughing, half-horrified, your voice muffled. “You are never allowed to speak again.”

He just leaned a little closer to you, speaking so only you could hear, voice low and amused. “You’re cute when you panic.”

You turned your face toward him, still flustered but smiling now, and smacked his chest again. “Stop talking.”

The movie played on, but no one was really paying attention anymore.

Not when Bucky Barnes – Mr. Brooding himself – was cracking jokes like it was open mic night.

Finally, the room had quieted down again as the movie continued playing.

On the screen, Kat Stratford stood in front of the class, her voice trembling just slightly as she read her poem.

You felt it coming.

The tight ache in your throat. The sting behind your eyes.

You weren’t a crier, especially not in front of everyone, but something about this scene always got you, and after the whirlwind of the past few days, it hit even harder now.

You blinked rapidly, trying to be subtle, and quickly wiped at the corner of your eyes with your sleeve.

But Bucky noticed instantly.

He shifted beside you, his arm tightening gently around your shoulders. Then, without a word, he pulled back just enough to look at you – really look.

You didn’t meet his eyes.

His brows furrowed slightly in that way they always did when he was focused. Concerned. And then, softly, his hand slipped away from your thigh under the blanket and reached up.

He used the pad of his thumb to wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

You froze.

The motion was so gentle, so tender, your breath caught in your chest.

Then–

“Oh hell no,” Nat said, breaking the silence.

You flinched and turned your head just as she sat up straighter, smirking like she’d just uncovered the juiciest secret in the world.

“Did he just wipe your tear away mid-rom-com?!”

Sam leaned forward dramatically. “That’s it. He’s done for. He’s all in. That was a whole Hallmark Channel move.”

Clint clutched his chest. “We’ve reached peak softness! I REPEAT – peak softness!”

Tony made a fake crying face. “Someone get me a tissue.”

You groaned, half laughing, half mortified, and pressed your hands to your face. “I hate you all so much.”

Bucky leaned back slowly, completely unfazed. “Don’t worry,” he said calmly, “I’ll get you a tissue next time too.”

You smacked his arm with the blanket, which only made the others laugh louder.

“I’m surrounded by emotional disasters,” Steve muttered, sipping his coffee.

Wanda was grinning behind her mug. “No, Steve. You’re surrounded by love.”

As the team slowly recovered from their collective breakdown, you leaned a little more into Bucky’s side – heart still fluttering and face still warm – and whispered just for him. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything.

Just squeezed your shoulder a little tighter.

As the credits rolled and the soft soundtrack faded out, the common room slowly came back to life.

Sam stretched with a groan, mumbling something about needing real food. Tony announced he was “not cooking for you people,” and Clint was already halfway to the hallway, muttering about laundry. One by one, the others trickled out, Steve heading to unpack, Wanda to her room, Nat grabbing a snack before disappearing into the hall.

You stayed curled under the blanket on the couch, watching the room empty. Bucky stayed beside you, not saying anything, just running his thumb absentmindedly along your shoulder.

When the kitchen finally quieted down again, he turned to you.

“You hungry?”

You turned your head toward him, a little surprised by the question, but your stomach answered for you with a low, unmistakable growl.

Bucky smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “Starving.”

He stood and held out a hand. “C’mon. Let’s make something.”

“You’re not just gonna cook for me again?” you teased, taking his hand as he helped you up.

“I mean I could, but what’s the fun in that,” he said, grinning.

You limped your way into the kitchen with him, heading straight for the fridge as he started pulling out ingredients. Bread, cheese, butter, a pan.

“We need to add garlic salt to the bread” you said, already reaching for the spice rack.

“Really?” he said, eyebrows raised.

“Yesss, it makes it 10 times better,” you said.

He grinned and opened the bread bag. “Fair enough.”

You walked over to the stove and grabbed a piece of bread out of the bag, starting to butter it, when you shifted your weight and immediately winced.

“Sit down,” he said, amused. “You’re gonna fall face-first into the skillet.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, hopping up onto the kitchen island with a slight grunt and letting your ankle dangle. “Happy?”

“Very,” he said, already back at the stove.

You helped from the island, passing him the cheese slices, sprinkling garlic salt on the bread, talking softly while he grilled everything.

When the sandwiches were cooking, Bucky stepped back from the stove and leaned against the counter for a moment. Then he turned and wandered closer – right up to where you were sitting.

He set one hand on the island beside you – not touching, but close – while you continued talking.

The conversation faded naturally, and you glanced up – suddenly realizing how close he was.

His face was just inches from yours, and his body was relaxed, but you could tell he was aware of every inch between you. Or, rather, the lack of inches.

Your heart picked up.

His gaze flicked briefly to your mouth – just for a second – and then back to your eyes.

You didn’t say anything.

Neither did he.

Then–

Ding.

The timer went off, and the skillet let out a loud sizzle at the same time.

Bucky blinked, like he’d just come out of a trance, and casually stepped back without a word, turning to grab a spatula.

You just stared at his back, trying to pull yourself together as he plated the sandwiches.

He slid your plate into your lap and handed you a water bottle from the fridge before jumping up next to you with his own plate.

The two of you ate your sandwiches right there on the counter like it was the most normal thing in the world – legs dangling, plates balanced on your laps – as your conversation continued.

“You’re telling me,” you said, chewing, “you had this level of domestic skill locked away this whole time?”

Bucky gave a small shrug. “Didn’t think it’d impress anyone.”

You snorted. “Bro, you literally wiped away my tears during a rom-com. You’re already halfway to husband of the year.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a slight pink in his cheeks. “I’m just trying to keep the bar low so I look impressive doing the bare minimum.”

You bumped your knee gently against his. “Smart man.”

After you both finished, the plates were left beside you, and the conversation turned soft and easy, like it always did with him lately. You swung your good leg back and forth beneath the counter, while Bucky leaned back on his hands, head tilted slightly toward you as he listened.

And then, without thinking much, you said, “You know what sounds good right now?”

“What?” he asked.

You smiled. “Ice cream.”

Bucky let out a soft hum of agreement, but the topic drifted. You went right back to talking about something else and you didn’t think anything of it.

A few minutes later, Bucky stood up, walking over to the freezer.

He opened the door, rummaged around for a few seconds, then straightened up with a sigh. “Get your shoes on.”

You blinked. “What?”

He turned back to you, already reaching for his keys from the hook near the back door. “C’mon. I’m taking you to get ice cream.”

Your eyes lit up before you could stop yourself, and you tried to fight the giddy smile that came across your face. “Wait, really? No, Bucky, that’s okay. I didn’t mean–”

He tilted his head at you. “Do you want ice cream?”

You hesitated. “Well, yeah, but–”

“Then you’re getting ice cream.”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile, but couldn’t hide it. “Okay.”

You jumped off the counter onto your good leg as Bucky instinctively reached out to steady you. You walked over to the door and slid on your shoes.

“I just need to grab a jacket from my room real quick.”

But before you could take a step, Bucky reached into the hall closet, pulled something out, and turned back around – holding one of his black leather jackets in his hands.

“Nah,” he said. “You can wear one of mine.”

You looked at him, blinking. “Seriously?”

“‘Course,” he said simply, stepping closer.

He held it out for you and you slipped your arms into the sleeves. The leather was worn and soft, and immediately smelled like him – clean and familiar.

He helped adjust the shoulders, tugging it into place like he’d done it a hundred times.

“You look good in it,” he said offhandedly, but his voice had dropped just enough to make your stomach flip.

You zipped it halfway, glancing up at him. “You really didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I wanted to,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Let’s go get your ice cream.”

And with that, he held out his arm so you could loop yours through for balance and led you toward the elevator.

The elevator dinged softly and you stepped out, the garage cool and quiet this late in the evening.

You both walked around to the passenger side of the car and he opened the door for you, letting you get settled before he closed it and went around to the driver’s side.

You kept up the casual conversation in the car, and it wasn’t long before you pulled up outside a little corner shop, the kind of place that always smelled like waffle cones and childhood.

Inside, it was quiet, just the hum of the freezer and the soft bell over the door. He looked down at the options while you stared into the freezer, eyes wide. “Okay, I forgot how hard this part is.”

“Life-altering decisions,” Bucky said with a smirk. “Choose wisely.”

“You’re gonna judge me, aren’t you?”

“I’m definitely gonna judge you.”

You laughed and ended up pointing to your usual – something sweet and a little over-the-top with cookie chunks and brownie pieces and caramel swirl, of course. Bucky raised a brow.

“Figures,” he muttered, but he ordered it for you anyway.

He went with butter pecan, and you gave him an amused look. “That’s an old man flavor,” you said, giggling while the worker started scooping your choices.

He just side-eyed you, smile peeking through his attempt at an annoyed look. “I am old.”

You continued giggling as the worker handed you your waffle cone and Bucky pulled out his wallet.

After he paid, you grabbed a small table outside, the night air cool against your cheeks as you sat across from him.

You licked your ice cream slowly, then looked up at him. “Thanks for this.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “Figured you deserved it.”

You gave him a soft smile. That shouldn’t have made your heart skip, but it did.

You continued eating, until a few minutes later, Bucky broke the silence.

“You’ve got…” Bucky motioned to the corner of his mouth.

You stuck out your tongue and licked it, but Bucky just chuckled, making it obvious you missed it.

He leaned forward without thinking.

“Here,” he said softly, reaching across and brushing his thumb against the corner of your lip.

Your breath caught.

His hand lingered for a second too long, eyes flicking down, just once, before he pulled away.

“Got it,” he murmured.

You tried to focus on your ice cream, but you could feel the heat in your face and the rapid beating of your heart like it was trying to break through your ribcage.

When you looked up at him again, he was already watching you.

The moment stretched.

And just like earlier, he didn’t push it.

He finally leaned back in his chair, taking another bite, and said, “so…what’s next after ice cream? You wanna rob a bank or just head back?”

You laughed, grateful for the shift but still feeling that tension humming under your skin.

“Let’s save the bank robbery for our second date.”

He paused for a half-second, then smiled. “Noted.”

On the ride back to the compound, you settled into easy conversation again, still teasing Bucky about his old-man ice cream flavor. When he parked the car and you both got out, you automatically linked your arm through his as you walked to the elevator and got in.

When the elevator doors slid open, you both stepped off laughing, still linked at the arms, walking close like you didn’t even realize how naturally it was happening now.

Bucky was giving you that boyish, slightly smug smile he only gave you, when you rounded the corner into the kitchen where Nat and Wanda were pulling ingredients out of the pantry.

They both looked up at the sound of your laughter.

Nat’s eyes flicked from you to Bucky, taking in the jacket, the linked arms, the flushed cheeks.

Wanda didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“Wow,” Nat said, closing the pantry door. “Look who came strolling in like they just got back from a rom-com montage.”

Wanda nudged her and grinned. “And in his jacket, no less. Very subtle.”

You laughed softly and gave Bucky a look like see what I have to deal with? “We just went for ice cream.”

“Of course you did,” Wanda said, amused but kind. “Was it good?”

“The best,” Bucky answered easily, eyes on you for a second too long.

Nat raised a brow but didn’t push it – for once. “We’re about to make cookies. You in?”

“Ooooh, yes,” you said. You turned toward Bucky, expecting him to stay, but Nat stepped in quickly with a smirk.

“Sorry, Barnes. This is girls only.”

Bucky chuckled, totally unbothered. “Fair enough.”

You just laughed as you slipped your arm out of his. As he started to walk away, he gave you one last look, warm and lingering. “See ya, doll.”

You smiled. “See ya.”

He turned and walked off, hands in his pockets, still smiling to himself.

As soon as he disappeared down the hall, you started slipping off his jacket, and before you could even get one arm free, the girls jumped in.

“Oh my god,” Nat said, grinning. “You’re so in love.”

Wanda leaned against the counter, hands clasped. “He wiped your tears and gave you his jacket? You two really are straight out of a rom-com.”

You gave them a look, trying not to blush. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“You’re lucky we’re being nice tonight,” Nat teased, taking the jacket and hanging it over a chair for you. “A few weeks ago we would’ve sent a photo to the entire group chat with a ‘look who’s in love’ caption.”

“She still might,” Wanda added with a shrug.

You just shook your head, cheeks warm, but you were smiling too.

You walked over and joined Nat and Wanda at the kitchen island, ingredients spread out across the counter. You all settled into a steady rhythm of measuring and dumping them into the bowl as you talked, soft music playing in the background from Wanda’s phone. It was easy and comforting, the kind of energy you didn’t realize you needed.

Wanda handed you a spoon and sighed. “You’re on stirring duty now,” she said. “My arm’s about to fall off.”

You took it, and as you stirred the thick dough, Nat leaned against the counter beside you and gave you a look.

“So,” she said casually, brushing flour off her hands. “You and Bucky.”

You froze for just a second before looking up at her. “Oh boy.”

Wanda smiled gently and bumped your arm with hers. “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna ambush you. We’re just…curious.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “It’s happening fast, huh?”

You looked down at the dough for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. I mean…I didn’t expect it. Any of it.”

Wanda leaned her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands. “But you’re not freaking out?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “No. That’s the weird part. It should feel like too much too fast, but it doesn’t. It just feels…easy. Like he was always supposed to be part of my life, and I just didn’t realize it until now.”

Both of them went still and quiet for a beat, so you glanced up.

Wanda looked like her heart had just melted.

Nat blinked once. “Wow. Okay. You’re in deep.”

“I know,” you groaned, dropping your head onto your arm on the counter. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable,” Wanda said firmly.

Nat crossed her arms, but her smirk had softened. “You know, for a guy who used to look like he wanted to murder everyone who made eye contact, he’s been grinning like a golden retriever every time you’re together.”

You peeked up from your arm. “Really?”

Wanda nodded. “Like, disgustingly soft.”

“Gross,” Nat muttered. “But also…kind of sweet.”

You sat up a little straighter, a little less panicked now. “You really think he feels the same?”

Wanda smiled, eyes warm. “We know he does.”

Nat grinned and bumped your hip with hers. “And if he doesn’t make a move soon, we’ll force him to.”

You just laughed, heart full and cheeks warm as you continued to stir the dough.

When you were done, you each started rolling the cookie dough, placing them on a baking sheet as the conversation drifted to something else before popping them into the oven.

The first batch of cookies came out golden and warm, filling the kitchen with that perfect, rich smell of sugar and melted chocolate. Nat wasted no time breaking one apart, the chocolate still gooey in the middle, and popped half into her mouth with a satisfied hum.

“Okay,” she said with her mouth full, “we actually nailed it.”

Wanda grinned and grabbed one of her own. “We’re unstoppable.”

You took a bite of yours and immediately closed your eyes. “Oh my god. These are so good.”

The three of you stood at the counter, nibbling on cookies straight from the tray with chocolate smudges on your fingers, laughing in between bites.

Eventually, Wanda grabbed a cloth and started wiping the counter while Nat began stacking mixing bowls in the sink.

“You should take some to Bucky,” Wanda said casually, glancing over her shoulder.

You blinked. “What?”

Nat smirked, not even looking up from the bowl she was rinsing. “You know. Thank him for the ice cream. Offer a peace cookie. Maybe kiss him a little.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you started gathering up dishes and taking them to the sink. “You guys are obsessed.”

Wanda shrugged, very unbothered. “We just support love.”

Nat turned around, still smirking at you. “You’re the one who walked in here in his jacket, glowing like you just got kissed under a streetlamp in a rom-com, and we’re the obsessed ones?”

“I’m just taking him some cookies,” you said, grabbing a plate and stacking a few still-warm ones on it. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” they said in unison.

You gave them both a pointed look, but your smile gave you away. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“We know,” Wanda said sweetly.

Nat just pointed toward the hallway. “Go on, don’t keep him waiting.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh and made your way out of the kitchen. Behind you, you could still hear them giggling as you disappeared down the hall.

When you got to his room, the door was slightly cracked, light spilling into the hall in a soft glow.

You nudged it open with your foot and leaned in. “Hey.”

Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on his bed, phone in hand, and the second he saw you, his whole face lit up.

“Hey. You brought cookies?” he asked, already standing and making his way toward you. “They smell so good.”

You held out the plate with a smile. “Courtesy of girls’ night.”

He took the plate carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wondered whether or not I would get to taste-test.”

Then, gently, his free hand settled on your lower back as he guided you into the room.

“C’mon, sit,” he said softly, helping you over to his bed.

You walked over to his bed and plopped down, wincing when the pressure was finally off your ankle. You didn’t realize how sore it was until now.

Bucky didn’t miss a beat.

He set the plate down on the nightstand, gave you a quick glance, and without a word, crossed to the little mini fridge in the corner of his room.

He pulled out a small ice pack, walked back over, and knelt down in front of you, gently lifting your leg and setting the cold pack on your ankle.

You blinked at him. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, not looking up as he adjusted the angle. “You’ve been walking around on it all day. I knew it would catch up to you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

He sat down next to you, close but comfortable, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he picked up the plate again, offering you the first cookie with a soft smile.

You took it as he grabbed one for himself and leaned over and grabbed the remote.

“What are we watching?” you asked as you took a bite.

“I don’t care,” he said, pressing the power button. “You can choose.”

You just hummed and reached your hand out while he immediately set the remote in it. You scrolled through some options before deciding on a comedy movie you’d seen a million times and handing the remote back to him.

“Never seen this one,” he said, taking another bite of his cookie.

“Oh, it’s so funny, you’re gonna love it,” you responded, smiling up at him.

You sat in silence as the movie started, sitting shoulder to shoulder and snacking on the cookies, laughing together after almost every scene.

You swore to yourself you were actually going to stay awake, wanting to see his reactions to all the funniest scenes, but as you were nearing the end of the movie, you could feel yourself drifting off.

You shifted slightly, your good leg brushing his, and let out the softest little sigh. “M’falling asleep,” you murmured, voice barely audible.

Bucky glanced down, smiling as he saw your eyes flutter shut.

“I figured,” he whispered, his voice low, gentle. “You’ve had a big day.”

You just hummed in response as you felt Bucky’s arm go around you, pulling you closer to him.

And just before you slipped completely into sleep, you felt it–

The soft press of his lips on your forehead.

Barely there, but real, warm.

And the last thing you heard was his quiet voice near your hair.

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

--

Part 9 | Masterlist

Tag list: @ordelixx @read-just-cant-stop @erinallene @crazycleo @magnoliamermaid @thewriters64 @nelachu2423 @kjah97 @awesompawsum @winchestert101 @buckyb-stan @crazyunsexycool @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @buckybarnesfic @ozwriterchick @multiversefanfics @blavikennbutcher @mysoggywaffle @nameless-ken @starfly-nicole @440mxs-wife @vicmc624 @lostinspace33 @prettylittlepluviophile @softpia @maryevm @glossy01 @ye-olde-trash-panda @bonnyclydecat

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you do a part 2 of your Devil May cry white rabbit with the reasonable demon hunter? (The first one got me really shipping them!) Or maybe another idea of a good demon hunter who’s secretly really rich. Like a political or royal family. They actually have property in the country side and some of the demons they save live there away from everyone. The white rabbit finds out about a rumor of a “sanctuary”.

i'm going to combined the two becuase why not, and its easier.

it had been a while since you and rabbit had been aware of one another, exchanging pleasentries with one another whenever you so happened to be within the same area, which had gone from short sentences to somewhat flirty compliments.

however there was something that you had kept hidden from even him, the fact that you had come from a well off family, a family that had unfortunetly passed on and had left everything to you in their will.

this included a massive house within the countryside, far away from the conflict and far off the gride for DARKCOM to bother looking into. it had enough rooms big enough to accomidate several familes that it felt too lonely for you to have all to yourself.

so while you trained to be a demon hunter, you vowed to make good use of the house and made it into a safe haven for demons who only wanted peace, a place to raise their own without fear, and you made good on that promise by using your contacts to others who were more then willing to help demons pass through to the countryside house safetly.

the idea was still very much new, but it had seemed to work a treat for you as whenever you went to the house, you were greeted by familes of demons who were happy to be away from conflict and appreciating the large open backyard, one that had blossom trees and weeping willows amongst blooming bushes of wildflowers that gave the air a sweet, welcoming smell.

you waved off their thanks and said. 'i only want to help, and i'm thankful for having the resources to do that and exacute it, so please the last thing i want is to be thanked. besides this hosue deserves life within it's walls then one lonely one.' before leaving them to continue your work in helping demons journey to what was now called the safe haven.

but soon enough word began to spread within the realm of demons of the safe haven, and soon it had caught rabbit's ears as they eaglerly talked about a place where demons could live without DARKCOM breathing down their necks.

so naturally rabbit went to the only person whom he knew could offer some light in this situation: you.

'hello handsome,' you said as you caught sight of the well dressed gentleman, 'what brings you here?'

rabbit smiles, taking a sip from the tea he had made for you both as you now sat across the table from one another. 'i've heard rumours of a saccred house within the countryside, a safe haven for demons away from DARKCOM and any other hostile demons, heard anything about it?'

you sighed as you put down your teacup, smiling softly, 'and what if i have?'

'i merely wish to know if such a thing exists, i don't want to give my people hope in a fairytale should it not be true.' rabbit says as he reaches out to hold your hand, strocking the back of it as you squeezed it reasuringly.

'well you're in luck my handsome man because the safe haven, the house that has been the talk of all demons? it's real and i've seen it.' you leaned forward, smiling wider as you looked into his eyes as they widened ever so slightly, his breath hitching in his throat.

'you have?' you hummed. 'where? when? how?' he asks, finding himself needing even more confirmation from you, never having felt this much hope in his enitre life as he realised that he would blindingly trust your words: a recent discovery that had him a little taken aback before growing comfortable with letting you into his heart.

'well, it's a house that had been passed down to me from my family a while back,' you began as you kept your eyes on rabbit to read his expressions,'at first i didn't know what to do with it so it was left abandoned. Then everything happed and suddenly i knew what i must do and made it into a shelter, a safe haven for demons who want life away from violence.' you finshed off and as soon as you were, you were swept into a tight embrace as rabbit burrows his head into your neck.

'you never fail to surpise me my dear.' he whispered as he felt himself admireing you more, he didn't care that he wasn't privy to the fact that you had come from a well off family, he knew you had your reasons. yet it was the fact that you didn't let that gift go to waste and actively use it for good, unlike most powerful people.

it had only made it more undeniable that rabbit knew there was more to what he felt towards you, he just was skeptical until he gotten to the point where he knew you had no reason to lie or withold anything, unless it was absolutely necessary.

'just trying to help.' you replied, holding him just as tightly back.

'you're incredible my dear, absolutely incredible.' rabbit whispered, content and happy in knowing there was a future for his kind, and it was in thanks to you. 'thank you.' he felt you shrug in his embrace.

'i didn't do it to be thanked, i did it becuase it was the right thing to do.' yo told him as he kissed your forhead, something new that had completely taken you offgaurd for a second, before melting back into his embrace like you were meant to be there.

'i can't let my favourite hunter go without their efforts being acknowledged, be selfish my dear for this moment id yours.' rabbit said.

'then does that mean i can be selfish with you and call you mine all the time then?' you asked in a moment of vulnerability, holding in a breath as you awaited his response, only to feel him rest his forhead against yours as he smiles.

'my dear you can be as selfish with me as you like, for the future is ours to take back, not theirs.' he reassures you.

'it was never theirs to begin with.' you rebuttled. 'never theres to take from demons who didn't participate in the violence and chaos, they deserve a home.'

'and a home is what we will make them.' rabbit replied, looking deep into your eyes, only to see the same determination to make that dream a reality. 'together.' he adds.

'together.' you echoed as you both held your gazes for a prolonged time.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Please listen: A Mydai is the type of sexual partner who spits in pussy, who takes his time during cunnilingus to be begged faster, who leaves hickeys everywhere, who likes to fuck on weight, touch breasts, who bites our lips, practices dirty talk and loves when we sit on his lap,who sits on the throne when he gets sucked off and hardly moans, and after all this takes care of like a child..... fuck, I want him to eat me and fuck me into unconsciousness

YOU ARE LISTENED!!

He spread you out on the bed like something fragile, something sacred, but there was nothing gentle about the way his mouth crashed against your pussy. Mydei growled low in his throat, one hand locking your thigh down to keep you wide open, the other slipping under your ass to pull you even closer. His tongue licked a slow, lazy stripe up your folds, tasting you, savoring you, before spitting messily right onto your cunt, the slick sound making you whimper. He smeared it in with two fingers, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. His tongue followed right after, lazy and slow, deliberately too soft, lapping at you like he had all the time in the world.

You were panting, squirming under his hold, your fingers tangled in his messy hair, trying to grind against his face. He didn’t let you. He pinned you down harder, using his weight to control you, dragging your needy little sounds out of you one by one. "Pathetic," he rumbled against your pussy, voice low and dark. "Can't even sit still for me." His mouth sealed around your clit and sucked, just once, sharp and hard, making you cry out his name. His teeth grazed sensitive skin, playful but cruel. Your back arched helplessly off the bed, your thighs trembling, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you begged, gasping out broken little pleads for more, faster, harder.

Only when you were sobbing, desperate, did he finally give in. Mydei shoved two thick fingers into your clenching hole, curling them up perfectly, and started to fuck you rough, wet, deep, while his mouth attacked your clit without mercy. You were gone. Your mind blanked out completely, broken moans spilling from your lips as your orgasm slammed into you, but he didn’t stop. His hand spread over your stomach, pinning you down, his entire body leaning into you, fucking you into the mattress with the weight of him. Hickeys were already blooming along your inner thighs, your hips, your soft stomach—bite marks where he couldn’t help but leave his claim. Your tits ached from where he squeezed them, rolled your nipples between his fingers earlier, rough and greedy, leaving you raw and aching for more even as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

"My Bunny," he rasped, breathless and wild, dragging himself up your body. His lips crashed against yours, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to make you yelp, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him. He was drunk on you, holding your face in his big hands, kissing you until you were sobbing into his mouth. "You're mine," he hissed against your lips, "my pretty princess, my baby. Gonna ruin you, break you, love you till you can’t think straight." He pulled back to stare down at you, watching the way your body trembled under his, your pretty eyes dazed and shining.

He wasn’t done. Mydei carried you like a doll to his throne, tossing you into his lap like you weighed nothing. His cock, heavy and throbbing, pressed up against your slick folds as he dragged you down onto him, inch by slow, brutal inch. He leaned back lazily, one arm thrown over the throne’s armrest, his golden eyes dark and lazy while he watched you struggle to take him all the way. You bounced helplessly on his cock, whining, your thighs already burning, and he barely even moaned—only low, rumbling growls deep in his chest. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you up and down like a toy, every few thrusts grinding you down hard enough to knock the breath out of you. He made you ride him until you were slurring, drooling, your pussy clenching desperately around him. Only then, only when you collapsed forward against his chest, whimpering like a broken thing, did he finally fuck up into you harder, using his strength, pounding into your soaked cunt until you passed out completely in his arms.

He caught you before you could fall, whispering soft praises into your hair. "Good girl... my sweet, precious girl... shh, I'm here, I've got you..." He pulled you into his lap tighter, wrapped in the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms. Carefully, he kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, murmuring, "I'll take care of you, baby. Always. You're safe with me." His cock still throbbed inside you, still twitching with the urge to breed you full, but he didn’t move yet. He just held you, rocked you, kissed every inch of your ruined, glowing body, and promised you all the filthy, endless love he could give.

[lunawagner]

Phone Calls of LADS Characters

*some parts are changed, based on the real calls I or my coworkers made in the call center, I wanted to share the ones that reminded me of them *

Luke & Kieran

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx.

Luke: The boss isn't here. Can't help you

Operator: Then, when will they be back? Can we call again later?

Luke: He's dead. They shot him finally. Good riddance.

Operator:...Excuse me?

Luke: Yeah. Gunned down. Six feet under. Don’t call again—he won’t be picking up. Guy was a scammer anyway. Serves right to that scum. You can remove everything related to him

Operator: I see..?

Operator note: User has a terrible sense of humor... probably

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx

Kieran: The boss isn't here. I can't help you

Operator: (already got a bad feeling) Do you know when he'll be back? Should we call back later?

Kieran: He went to Bulgaria to shoot a man. Poor guy scammed the wrong person. Our boss will hunt him down.

Operator: Uh… will he be back this week?

Kieran: Nope, it might take more than a week, you know, to clean things.

Operator:...Right

Operator note: User said the manager is on a business trip.

Sylus

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx

Sylus: Calling from where?

Operator: Xxx

Sylus: Say it again

Operator: ...XXX

Sylus: Miss, all I hear is meow meows, you're talking like a kitten.

Operator(offended and about to go apeshit): I'm sorry please let me repeat it, I hope you can hear this time: WE ARE CALLING FROM XXX

Sylus: Ohh, you're calling from Xxx.

Sylus: Unfortunately, I'm not interested in your services. Maybe next time.

*headache intensifies*

Xavier

Xavier(with a sleepy voice): Hello.

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx

Xavier: Are you calling from *famous food chain*?

Operator: No, we're calling from Xxx.

Xavier: Oh, sorry, I'm a bit sleepy, you said *famous food chain*, right?

Operator: No, we're just calling from Xxx to verify your address info

Xavier(mutters under his breath): Didn't I already write it while placing the order?

Xavier: It is *address info*

Operator: ....(hesitates, checks notes, convinces herself she informed him as it should be)

Operator: Thank you for your time. Have a good one.

Rafayel 1

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx

Rafayel: Oh my God, I was just about to call you if you didn’t call me first.

Operator: Is there a problem?

Rafayel: Yes, there’s a big problem. I’m a famous artist, if I may say so myself. I’ve been doing this for years, and everyone knows the quality of my work and the care I put into it. However, on your platform, my rating is 4.6 out of 5, and there are no comments or explanations for that. Unbelievable! I came to know about it thanks to one of my clients, and I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw it. On other platforms, I have 5 out of 5, it has never been lower. Seeing that 4.6, I was so upset and shocked that it took me days to recover...

Operator: .... (isn't 4.6 actually pretty good?)

Operator: You're right, it must have been really shocking. I will inform the relevant teams about your request. If there is a mistake, I'm sure they will deal with it accordingly

Rafayel: Thank you, thank you, please tell them dear. My reputation is on the line here. Honestly, I’m so affected by this, I can’t even bring myself to open your page without shaking. I don’t want to see anything related to Xxx until this is fully resolved

Rafayel 2

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx

Rafayel: ....

Operator: Can you hear me?

Rafayel: I beg you...

Operator: Pardon..?

Rafayel: I beg you as a fellow human being, please don't call me. Every time I hear the phone ringing, I get really excited and rush to answer it, all happy with butterflies in my stomach. But then it's always you sellers or advertisers.

Rafayel: You're making me want to cry. You're toying with my feelings and hopes, making my life miserable. I can't take it anymore. I DON'T WANT YOUR CALLS

Operator: ...I'm sorry

Caleb ft. MC

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx

MC: Hi, how can I help you?

Operator: We're updating our database. Can I ask you a few questions about your business?

MC: Of course!

The woman sweetly answers the questions, then a man's voice interrupts

Caleb: Who is calling?

MC: They are calling from Xxx for update.

Caleb: Close the phone. They are scammers.

MC: But they didn't sound like one. Also, it's free.

Caleb: Okay, I'll deal with it. (takes the phone)

Caleb(scary voice): What do you want?

Operator:........((⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)give back my cute lady!!!)

Zayne

Operator: Hi, we're calling from Xxx. We realized that some of your branches lack important details. Could you help us?

Zayne: I apologize beforehand but how can I be sure that you're really calling from Xxx

Operator: We can't provide you with any concrete evidence on the phone, but we don't demand any private info that can harm you or your business. Also, you don't need to pay for anything. You can reach the customer support via the official website to verify our call later.

Zayne: Thank you for your explanation. Which of our branches do you want to learn about?

Operator: (looks at the screen to see 10 of them listed, screams internally )

-45 minutes later-

Zayne(smiles): Is it all?

Operator: Yes...(cries silently because nobody has been this patient with her through all of her life, and this operations manager continued to help her kindly even though it passed their lunch break)

[sagereeid]

scars that never healed. - s.r. - chapter 3

a/n - hi guys i had an awful day today but hopefully yall enjoy. please comment your thoughts. love yall

warnings - none really. bitter!spencer, angst, lily and derek friendship, maybe some cussing. let me know if i missed something.

Once Hotch dismissed the team, they all staggered out of the roundtable room. Spencer ensured he was the last one out, not in his usual spot next to Lilith.

Truth is, yeah, he has been avoiding her. He’s doing it for a good reason. Or at least that’s what he’s telling himself.

He came to this realization when he was at Lilth’s house yesterday. Every time Spencer got close, everything got ruined. It blew up in his face. His mother won’t take the pills that will help her get better. Meave got killed right in front of him. And if one thing is for damn sure, he cannot lose the one person that has been getting him though all of this.

Spencer cannot lose Lilith. He cannot even think about it. So, he thought the best idea was to push her away. Maybe if they’re far enough away from each other, neither of them will be around for the explosion.

He made a beeline for his desk and grabbed his go bag, which he kept under his desk. He could hear Lily behind him.

“Spence?” She spoke in that soft voice she always uses while around Spencer. A small part of him was enraged that she was talking to him because he would only have to work harder to shut her out.

“Yes?” He asked, shoving a few extra things in his duffle bag.

“Are you okay?” She questioned. Spencer could tell that she‘s concerned, but it is fueling the fire inside him even more.

“I’m fine,” He said, not turning around.

“Spence... " she responded, her tone softer than ever. Lily reaches out and places a warm, familiar hand on his shoulder.

He freezes. He doesn’t let many people touch him, even in passing. Lilith was different, that was until now.

Spencer shrugs off her touch and spins around so fast that he feels like he will fall into his desk chair.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t touch me.” He looked into her eyes, which were rigid, cold, and unmoving. Lilith stared at him with confusion, hurtfulness, and a tad bit of fear.

They stood there momentarily, staring at each other; the tension eating them alive. Eventually, Spencer pushes past her without another word and hits her with his shoulder.

Lilith stood there temporarily, her eyes not moving from where Spencer had stood only moments ago. She felt a sob well up in her throat, and she tried her best to swallow it down. She tried to ignore the few tears that slipped out, but she grabbed her things and left the scene.

She walked to the plane silently and tried not to even look at Spencer, sitting in the spot they usually sat in together. She walked past him without saying anything, swallowing the lump in her throat yet again, and sat in a random corner far away from everyone.

This wasn’t uncommon on the jet; if you sit by yourself and look like you don’t want to be talked to, you usually will get left alone. Typically, people just read books or slept, but Lily’s throat felt tight right now. She thinks if she opens her mouth, she’ll erupt into tears.

She took yet another steadying breath. Why is this affecting you so much? This is so stupid. So what? Spencer gets mad at you once, and you’re going to cry? She chants in her head.

Lily sighed and looked out of the window, ignoring the pair of eyes she felt on the back of her neck, which she knew most definitely belonged to Spencer.

It takes all her power not to turn around. The sadness has quickly faded, only to be replaced by anger and annoyance. What is his problem?

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, letting all her thoughts fade away, and she finally drifts off to sleep.

A few hours later, the jet landed in Minneapolis. Spencer stood up and grabbed the bag for the overhead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lilith fast asleep in her seat. He wanted to walk over to her, tuck the hair on her face behind her ear, wake her up gently, and give her a warm smile. He ended up standing there and staring at her until his gaze was broken by Derek standing in front of her.

“Chicka, wake up.” He chuckled while gently shaking her shoulder.

“Hm?” Lilith asked as she fluttered her eyes open.

“We landed.” He said, giving her that signature charming smile. She smiled back with her warm and inviting one. Yet a fake one. One that hid the pain inside of her.

“Oh.” She sits up some more and rubs the sleep out of her eyes.

“You okay there, hot stuff?” He chuckled, and his touch lingered on her shoulder.

“Yeah, sweetie. Just didn’t sleep too well last night.” She joked back.

Spencer stopped. He was trying and failing to listen in on subtly. He felt like all the air was sucked out of his lungs. Sweetie? He thought to himself. It felt unnatural coming from her mouth, especially while talking to Derek.

He felt his blood boil for a reason he didn’t know himself. Jealousy. Lilith watched as he stormed off the plane and looked back to Derek in confusion.

They both look back at each other, and Derek is the first one to speak.

“What is up with him?” He asked. Lily sighed.

“I have no idea.”

[thepagemistress]

Thinking half-thoughts but like... what if, in order to pull Cas out of the Empty, Jack had to leave the vessel behind? I've seen theories on getting Cas out by leaving the grace behind (which does make more sense lore-wise) but stick with me...

They can't get the vessel back or create a new one whilst it still exists (whatever, the logistics aren't the point) and obviously Claire is the only other bloodline vessel which isn't even worth entertaining. So essentially Cas is stuck in Heaven in his true form. And in the beginning, he did try and check in on Dean but it hurt too much to see him so listless and spiralling and not being able to do anything about it so he just went cold turkey and threw himself into helping Jack rebuild Heaven.

Until he feels a barrage of emotions so strongly that it would have brought him to his knees were he to still have any. Pain, regret, sadness, acceptance, hope... a cacophony of chaos and he knows the source immediately. And he knows the reason. Dean is dying. It's barely been the blink of his many eyes and Dean's already dying. And there's nothing he can do about it.

But he could at least be there for him, even if Dean can't see him or know he's there. So he flies down to some decrepit barn to find Dean and Sam. Immediately, he is overcome with the need to FIX-IT. Why should he accept this? Why are any of them just accepting this?? If only he could...

And then an awareness shakes him to his core. The vessel is willing. The vessel has given permission. And Cas doesn't give himself time to talk himself out of it. He'll beg forgiveness later, just as long as Dean is alive.

And so he possesses him. Sam's still cradling his face and crying when Cas speaks through Dean's voice. "Pull him down."

Sam sniffs. Blinks. Frowns. It takes him longer than it usually would to connect the dots. Too long. "Sam!"

Sam starts and makes a grab for a weapon he doesn't have. "Who are you?"

"It's me," Cas says, also not thinking too straight through his own panic and the sudden onslaught of Dean's emotions battering him from the inside. "I can't heal him with the rebar still in. Hurry!"

Sam isn't hurrying. "Cas?"

"Sam, please!"

In a display of trust that Cas will be grateful for later, Sam finally bursts into action, pulling Dean from the beam, marvelling at how Cas keeps him upright. Then he begins to heal him from the inside, pouring his renewed grace into the wound and the rest of his body just because why not when he's already there?

Blinking Dean's eyes open, he finds Sam waiting, anxious. A nod from Cas has Sam sucking in a breath and launching himself forward to hug Dean. Or Cas. Or both.

It's nice. He wishes he could stay but he's done what he needed to and it was time to leave them to it. Shrugging out of Sam's grip, he offers a sad smile as he says, "I'll be waiting for you both. Just take your time about it, please."

It's clear Sam wants to argue but he needs to leave, now. And so he does.

Or...doesn't?

With a frown, he tries again. But still he remains. And Sam is now arguing but Cas can't focus, he's too busy panicking. And Dean is hammering on the little door in his mind that Cas put up to dull the unpleasant feeling of being possessed and Cas tries sending him reassuring pulses that yes, he's trying, he'll be out soon. But strangely that just increases the pounding which take on an edge of desperation until Cas has no choice but to open the door and-

"DON'T YOU FUCKING LEAVE ME AGAIN."

Everything stops. The pounding in his head, the tether on his grace, the desire to flee. The only thing that remains is an overwhelming sense of anticipation. And Sam still rambling about something that is probably very heartfelt and that Cas absolutely could not give a shit about right now.

To test a theory, Cas tries again to exit the vessel, only to have what he now realises is Dean's soul clamp down on his grace, keeping it rooted, nestled inside him.

"You ain't going anywhere, sunshine," comes Dean's shaky voice from inside his head. "We got some shit to talk about, you and me."

And so talk they do. And when Cas says that he's without a vessel and that's why he hasn't been by, Dean tells him that now he does. Just like that. As if he hasn't spent the entire time Cas has known him trying to avoid being a meat suit for an angel. But Cas can hear the eye roll as Dean says that Cas has been the exception to that rule for awhile. He made his peace with that fact years ago. Which explained the open permission he seemed to have.

"So, listen. We'll try to figure out how to get your body back. But, if we can't? Don't be using that as an excuse to not visit, yeah?"

If Cas had the choice, he'd never leave.

A flash of warmth roll through him, reminding Cas that he's not alone with his thoughts right now.

"Well. That'd be OK with me, too."

Cas smiles with Dean's lips. But that's OK because Dean's smiling too.

"...Have you listened to anything I just said?" Sam asks.

[wardenbloom]

Zayne: A Walk with you

The unforgiving fire enveloped her house as she cried for help. She was only eight years old when her family home crumbled into ashes due to a political dispute which resulted in arson. Her father timely rescued her from their burning home then stayed with her until help arrived. 

A man with tall stature, wearing an all-black wardrobe approached the two of them. 

“You.” He coldly uttered as his emerald eyes stared at the father. 

Her father attained third degree burns all over his body. His skin looked like it was melting, but even so, she held on to her dear father, her only surviving relative. 

“Dad…?” She tapped and hugged her dad but there was no response. 

“Me?” The dad asked, then looked at the man who called him. 

“Yes. Come with me.” He then turned his back from her father expecting him to follow but the father stood his ground. 

“I can’t go…” Her father said with a strong tone. “I can’t leave my daughter alone. We do not have relatives anymore, she doesn’t have a sibling… She’ll be alo–” 

“That, sir, is none of my business.” He turned around and looked at him. He was crying and worried about his daughter; his voice was shaking and so was his knees. He knelt down and wept. 

“Your wife is already waiting for you.” The man uttered and activated his ice evol to mimic a mirror and showed him his wife through it.

Her father stared at the mirror and looked at it – yearning for his spouse. 

“But… my daughter… please… I’d do anything…” He still was stubborn enough to want to stay despite knowing that someone was waiting for him out there. 

The man sighed and deactivated his evol. He looked at the child whose almost half of her body was covered with burns. She was now being taken care of and sedated by the medics while the father was being enclosed in a body bag. 

We’re getting nowhere. I still have a schedule of reaping fifteen minutes from now. 

He thought and finally gave in. “I can only watch over your daughter, if that makes you feel better.” 

The father’s face lit up and felt relieved. He now has no regrets and followed him wholeheartedly, looking forward to seeing his wife, who has been deceased for almost five years. 

Zayne had been doing a grim reaper’s job since he passed thousands of years ago. He was given only one job, to walk with the souls of the dead from earth to their next destination and to make his work more efficient, he was also given both human form and spirit form. He knew that if he deviated from his sole job, he'd be meted out a punishment of eternal damnation.

The situation where the deceased won’t pass peacefully without a condition is not new to him. He tries to avoid such conditions, but whenever he gives his word, he faithfully performs his end of promise. 

A year later, Zayne decided to visit the child he promised he’d be watching over. She now has healed burns but there are still scarring, and a house was also built for her using her father’s estate.

Her right arm and a part of her face was burnt and scarred but Zayne noticed that it didn’t stop her from being cheerful. She always visits her parent’s mausoleum and talks to them as if they were alive. 

“Well, my burns hurt sometimes, dad. But I think I’m doing better! The doctors were really nice.” Her small gleeful voice said. 

An orphan, but she doesn’t realize it yet. 

Zayne’s sight went from her to the graves in the cemetery. He remembers each one of them and their situation before they died as he walked with them to their next destination after their life on Earth. 

“Are you looking for someone?” The girl was suddenly in front of him and looking up at him. She was beaming with a smile as if her burns were not stinging. 

Zayne took a closer look at her and noticed that the burn affected the right side of her face as well. Her right eye was closed shut and her right cheek was completely burned. 

His eyes widened. 

… I forgot that I’m in my physical form… 

“No, I’m just looking around. It’s peaceful in the cemetery.” He replied in a soft tone. She tilted her head and nodded. 

“I agree with you, sir. It’s quiet here but it sometimes stinks of death.” She giggled but her eyes looked sadly at her parents’ mausoleum. 

“It’s… a natural process of life.” He replied. 

“Say…” She smiled. “Why do good people die early? My parents were good people… they fought for people’s rights… they like to include me whenever they do charity work but they were taken early… why is that?” 

Zayne did not know the answer because he only followed orders. 

“I don’t know.” He honestly replied and took a deep breath. 

“I see. Whether I find the answer or not, it doesn’t matter anyway…” She said then went back to the mausoleum. 

Zayne continued on watching her from afar for years. Somehow, he felt happy when she graduated from college then proceeded to do social work. The fact that the death of her parents were a result of other people’s greed did not let her change her outlook on life. 

He always wondered why she didn’t have many friends despite being good. He tilted his head while he watched her talk to a charity volunteer. She was still as cheerful as she was before. 

Why don’t people get near her? 

He looked at his pocket watch. 

I still have time to spare. I’m quite curious. 

For her birthday, she organized a feeding program for the orphanage in her area. They made lots of delicious foods and packed several hygiene kits for the children. She also made it a point to buy them different toys that they would like. 

At the nearby park, Zayne saw some of the volunteers for today. They were smoking and were engaged in a group conversation. He decided to listen in. 

“She’s so nice. Imagine doing all these for your birthday.” A girl said. 

“She looks ugly though. If she was a bit pretty, I’m sure people would flock over her.” A man said while laughing. 

“I agree. I also read before that her family used to do money laundering and shit. They all died except for her.” The other man added as he puffed his cigarette. 

“Huh? Are you sure it was money laundering? I thought her dad had done some corrupt practices as a politician before?” The girl asked. 

Where do they get their news…? Her dad was a good man… I was there when I led him to his destination… 

Zayne thought and furrowed his eyebrows.

“One thing’s for sure, that woman is gaining track of the limelight.” The man said confidently. “If she keeps this charity work up and being visible to the media then runs for an office, she’ll dominate.”

“I doubt that, bro. The people in power are just dynasties. Her dynasty died before she could even do something. Plus, look at her, ugly as fuck.”  

They laughed out loud. Shortly, a woman arrived at the park and called on the resting volunteers as their program was about to start.

I see. No one really bothered getting to know her. 

Months later, Zayne received the list of names for the reaping. He read the list as always and the first on the list was a name he didn’t expect. 

Zayne’s eyes widened as he read her name in the list. If he had a physical heart, it would’ve pounded rapidly. 

THIS EARLY??? WHY?? 

He read further into the document and it stated stabbed to death. 

He took a deep breath and looked at his pocket watch. 

I still have time… I can still… Can I save her? Should I? 

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The gentle ticking of the watch reminded him of her time running out. Despite his doubts, he decided to save her. He arrived at her place and found her body laying down in the kitchen in her own pool of blood. Several stab wounds also hit her vital parts. 

No… I… I’m too late… 

Zayne held his breath and looked at her soul sitting on the table, looking at her dead body. She turned to look at Zayne and her face didn’t have any scars. In fact, she was the most beautiful soul he's ever seen.

She was never ugly… 

“It's you… The man at the cemetery… You’ve been watching me, have you, sir?” She childishly smiled. 

Zayne didn’t reply. It was unusual that she was so calm about it. She giggled. 

“Well, I don’t plan on living long anyway. This world is too cruel. I don’t want it.” Her eyes looked sad and had regrets. “But I still… I want to live…” Tears fell from her eyes. 

Zayne took a deep breath and approached her then awkwardly petted her head. “You did really well. Helping a lot of people at such a young age.” 

“The world is beautiful as well… I’ve met lots of nice people too… and the kids were very loving.” She forced a smile. He wiped her tears with his thumb and smiled at her.

“Shall I walk with you?” Zayne offered his hand and she nodded; he gently squeezed her hand then they started walking.

“Say…” She smiled. “If I’m good, then why do good people die early?” She asked again. 

Zayne smiled and answered: 

“When walking in a garden… which flowers do you think gets picked first? The rotten ones or the ones that are beautiful and blooming?”

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 93

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

I'm here!

It's been a long day of travel and registration and all that jazz that comes with conference things. I am very glad to have some time to slow down and read a chapter with some almond, rose, and amaranth tea tonight.

With that, Let's get into chapter 93!

Ugh! Mu Qing and his vulnerabilities! Xie Lian is just trying to help! p36

LOOL These two explaining the romanticism of the red string Hualian wear to Xie Lian. p38

The visual of Hua Cheng being the ghost version of mary poppins. Just umbrella flying them out of danger. p40

Ruoye baby!! Scared of the webs :( p41

Exactly Mu Qing! Why wouldn't they smash the faces instead of hide them- it's almost like they are deeply in love with them. p43

Mu Qing, once again the voice of reason- how is Hua Cheng so sure about the 'random' direction they're traveling in? p45

Oh! The pearl! ofc Xie lian forgot about it though. pp47-48

everyone is so alarmed by the statues like Hua Cheng was being sketchy about it. The reality is he was embarrassed low key since Xie Lian was the only person then god who gave a shit about him and he did promise him 10 000 temples p51

oh no, my feelings!!! I can't with Hua Cheng's murals. His portraits with himself being ugly and disfigured- sweetie :((( p54

oh gosh, my heart. Mu Qing and Feng Xin please, there is no nefarious plot here. p57

As a side note, fuck these guys for taking away Xie Lian's right to choose how to handle the supposed situation they're in right now. What right do they have to just do what they want without talking to him about things. p60

oh fuck! Mu Qing did kick Hua Cheng out of the army back then! p65

omg this miscommunication with the command spell- too much! p70

Noooo! He's just trying to heal Xie Lian and they think he's a freak. :(((( p71

Holy fuck. MXTX jump scared me so hard with these fake character deaths. I was so scared! I just closed the book for a solid minute!!!! p75

WHITE NO FACE!!!! p75

omg this guy is stronger than Hua Cheng! p76

Jeeze Hualian! This is NOT the time or place for confessions!! p78

If sidestepping a conversation was an Olympic sport, these two would take gold. p88

Hualian is asking the question; why is white no face at the mountain, I am asking the question; why is white no face so attached to Xie Lian! p89

I am crying!!! If Hua Cheng's ashes are in the jewelry Xie Lian is wearing this conversation is too fucking much! Hua Cheng!!! You sap!!!! p91

Xie Lian to Hua Cheng: "Once we're out of Mount Tonglu, there's a lot I want to tell you" YOU BETTER BOTH GET OUT THEN! p93

OMG SO MUCH.

Everyone is having a different conversation this chapter LOL and then we get the drama of White No Face added back to the pot. It ends with EVEN MORE mystery with Lang Ying!!!! (who I am assuming is white no face and not actually the sweet babe).

[livesbetweenpages]

#they make me sick! SICK! ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN NAUSEATED. like staahp 😭. please, it's getting to be too much.

#and is happy Chris has Buck turn to. and confesses the worst thoughts in his head after he has a breakdown.

and fuck what's so fuckin intresting to me, other than everything abt martyr!eddie, is that eddie's never had an issue with buck helping out when it comes to chris. it's like he's compartmentalized shit in his head so that helping chris ≠ helping him. it's so sad 😭 it's so fucked i'm literally crying-sobbing-inconsolable.

and he lets buck in during his breakdown (because chris called buck over mind you. idk if eddie ever would've called him if chris hadn't) but he shuts himself off again after that. i feel like they've just gotten to a point where eddie's ready to let buck take care of him 😭😭😭😭😭😭. did i mention that i'm literally crying-sobbing-inconsolable

pass me the tissues because I honestly cannot anymore!

Eddie, Eddie whose entire personhood is wrapped up in being a dad, to CHRIS!! And yet he doesn't see that Buck caring for Chris is yes, just about Chris on his own, as his own person, who Buck loves, they are BFFs, they go to the ZOO! they hang out so much that Buck can talk to him about girls! So much that they're playing video games while Eddie is like in the kitchen doing whatever. They have pranks. CHRIS KNOWS TO CALL BUCK FIRST the minute he knows something is wrong with Eddie. HE RUNS TO BUCK when he's so upset about his friends and family being away from him. They have their own relationship outside of Eddie.

AND YET!! There is no way Buck is not also caring about Chris BECAUSE he knows, HE KNOWS EDDIE LOVES THIS ONE! THIS KID! HIS KID so much so so much!!! That taking care of Chris is in turn taking care of Eddie and taking care of Eddie is in turn taking care of Chris and ALL OF THAT is Buck taking care of Buck because he loves them so much! He just wants them to be happy, and safe! It makes Buck happy and safe!!! He's so sad Eddie is leaving and yet he's happy! he tells Eddie how happy it's making him because Eddie and Chris will get to be where they belong: together!!

AND EDDIE either doesn't see it or won't see it or just won't admit it to himself for REASONS that I get but also MY GUY, MY MAN, MY PAL! YOU ARE SOOO LOVED IT DOES NOT MATTER IF IT'S SO MUCH YOU WANT TO EXPLODE THAT YOU HAVE TO BURY ANY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF IT LIKE A GRENADE. That ambulance is blowing up! It blew up and it blew up your life and you didn't die! In fact YOUR LIVING SO MUCH MORE RIGHT NOW!

like do not get me going about the symbolism of Eddie locking that door and BUCK BREAKING IT DOWN ANYWAY! CHRIS CALLED because EDDIE NEEDED HELP and Chris knew Buck would be there, no questions, and he'd HELP and he DID!!! Buck thought he was walking into a suicide and he BUSTED THAT WHOLE DOOR DOWN, after asking and calling out to Eddie. Like he didn't superman it, he asked! And when he didn't get an answer, well he risked it anyway!!

knock down the wall? he knocked down the door 4 seasons ago!! what is a wall?? Buck was inside the room!!!

And yes yes yes he is SO CLOSE he is on the precipice. That giant eyed YOU DID THAT? FOR ME????? Fuck! I will never ever get over the look on his face. If I were Buck I would've tackled him to the floor in that living room. YOU ARE SO SO LOVED EDDIE! You both are what am I talking about?! their whole lives searching (THE SEARCHERS!!) and then they found each other right when they needed each other and shook hands and never let go!

I need to lie on the floor!!!

[kittenfangirl20]

⚠️content warning sa⚠️

Charlie ran as fast as she could and gasped in horror at what she saw. Adam was bound in vines making it hard for him to move. He was screaming and crying as Lilith had straddled his hips moving up and down only caring about her own pleasure while Adam was in pain.

Adam: Lili, please stop, it hurts.

Lilith only responded by slapping him hard enough to leave a bruise.

Lilith: I told you to never call me Lili. This is the only way anyone will fuck you because you are such a hideous creature.

When Lilith was done, she got off of Adam and left him there still bound. Adam’s eyes were honey brown instead of the usual gold, his body leaner with a good amount of muscle. He also didn’t have the soul patch he had on his face and was clean shaven. His body hair looked very soft. It seemed Adam was created with love and care, like he was created to love and be loved. Just then the scene changed and she saw Adam sitting up in a tree. He looked nervous that Lilith would see him, but something seemed to excite him. Just then a beautiful smile crossed his lips.

Adam: Luci.

Charlie turned to see Lucifer as the Angel of Light, she could see love shining in Adam’s eyes. The angel flew over to Adam and they talked. Charlie could see so much of herself and Vaggie in Lucifer and Adam. In fact Lilith lied when she said her and Lucifer were dreamers who fell in love. The dreamers in love were Adam and Lucifer.

Charlie: You both deserve better.

It changed again to show poor Adam who had a black eye from Lilith standing behind a tree. There they saw Lilith telling Lucifer how whenever Lucifer wasn’t around, Adam would try to control Lilith and hurt her. Adam’s fingers dug into the tree and it caused blood to be drawn as he cried.

Charlie: Don’t believe her dad.

But Lucifer kissed Lilith and he made love to her. Charlie had to see things like Lucifer and Lilith running away. Adam finding out Lucifer and Lilith left Eden. Eve being created and Adam loving her even though his first love and soulmate would always be Lucifer. It was then she saw Adam and Eve clinging to each other wearing the clothes Sera provided for them. Across from them were Lucifer and Lilith. Between them was the Forbidden fruit with a bite taken out of both sides. Lucifer and Lilith were condemned to the new world of darkness that was created, Hell. Lucifer screamed in pain as he turned into Hellish angel he was now. The ground opened under Lucifer and Lilith. Adam ran to them and grabbed Lucifer’s hand, but Lilith clung to Lucifer and Sera held Adam to keep him from falling to. Both Charlie and Adam screamed before Charlie found herself back at the hotel.

Charlie: How could mom do that?

Sera: We don’t know, I would do anything to help Adam.

Charlie ran to Adam and held him as she cried.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Child AU)

Alastor watched as Lucifer walked over to Adam. The only way that Alastor even got a hit on Adam was by being underhanded, in spite of his large frame, Adam moved very quickly. Not surprisingly Adam was very strong too.

Adam: Okay, seriously!!! How many of you freaks do I have to fight?

Lucifer: Oh, I’m the only one that matters. See, you messed with my daughter and now, I am going to FUCK YOU!!!!!!

With half of his mark destroyed everyone could see that Adam was a very attractive man with gold eyes and some brown hair peeking from the helmet. While Adam looked perplexed by the wording, he didn’t against the idea of Lucifer bending him over and fucking him. Alastor didn’t care if the first man was horny for the King of Hell, he was angry that Adam bested him. He wanted revenge. Charlie then quickly ran to Lucifer.

Charlie: It’s fuck you up dad.

Lucifer: What did I say?

Before Charlie could say anything, Adam charged at Lucifer and slammed him into a wall. Lucifer was about to make a snide comment about Adam letting himself go since Eden. But he realized that would very cruel and Adam’s chubby stomach pressed against Lucifer felt nice and he could feel his pants grow tighter.

Adam: Well guess you weren’t lying about your desire to fuck me.

Lucifer: THAT’S WHAT I SAID!!!!!!!!

Before anything else was said, both Adam and Lucifer were enveloped by in bright green light from Alastor. Charlie frantically went to find her dad. But she found a five year old angel with Lucifer’s duck tail style. He had sky blue eyes and his six wings were white and sky blue. His robes and top hat were white, sky blue, and gold. Instead of a serpent there was a silvery blue halo with stars. Charlie knelt down to the child that looked like her father.

Charlie: Hey, would you happen to be named Lucifer Morningstar?

Lucifer: Yes, who are you?

Charlie: My name is Charlie.

Lucifer then heard soft crying and he flew to the sound was. He would a beautiful boy about his age that was also an angel. He had very soft brown hair and gold eyes. He had dark blue and gold robes with a large gold A on it as well as what looked like a gold leaf. He had a soft and chubby body under his robes. His wings and halo were gold. Lucifer flew over to the boy who was crying, but he smiled when he saw Lucifer.

Lucifer: Hello, what is your name?

Adam: I think my name is Adam.

Lucifer hugged Adam and held him close, he didn’t know why, but he liked Adam a lot.

Lucifer: Do you want to be my friend?

Adam: Yes, I would like that a lot.

Lucifer flew over to Charlie while holding Adam.

Lucifer: Miss Charlie, we need your help. Can we stay with you?

Charlie smiled at them, they looked so cute together.

Charlie: Of course.

Everyone was so fucking confused about how both Adam and Lucifer were now young children. But at least the hotel and everyone wasn't in danger anymore.

Mostly.

Lute glared and stomped over to Charlie: You can't keep him! Adam belongs in heaven no matter what form he takes on.

Charlie: Look, by the looks of it they want to stay together.

She pointed to them and now Adam and Lucifer were playing pattycake with each other just to entertain themselves.

Grown ups were boring.

Lute: I don't care. He's property of heaven and that demon shouldn't touch him!

She couldn't even go over and pick Adam up properly to take him back to heaven. And by the looks of it his wings were too small now for him to fly all the way.

Charlie: Nothing will happen to him.

Lute got in her face: Nothing better not happen to him. Or you'll wish he had of killed you when he had you by that scrawny throat of yours. Sera won't be pleased and I WILL be back for him.

She left with the other exorcists back to heaven to figure out what to do.

Vaggie: So..... Are we really going to take care of Adam while he's like this or can we just throw him off the hotel?

Lucifer gasped and held Adam close, he glared at Vaggie as Adam teared up and started to cry. He didn't understand why she didn't like him.

Charlie: Vaggie!! He's only a little kid who, by the sounds of it has no memory. That would be cruel.

Vaggie looked down: You're right.... Sorry....

Alastor materialized behind Charlie: Now now, your...... Father might be your responsibility and priority but the brutish angel surely isn't.

He had only meant to hit Adam with the spell, but this can work in his favor too with the King of Hell out of the way and practically in diapers.

[holographings]

someone on twitter said Imagine what s2 jayce would give to talk to s1 viktor just one more time. and someone had a time travel alternate dimension fic ready to go. and i read it. and now my face is being eaten by 3750 feral dogs i think

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

“hold on to your heart” // do me a favour live at forest hills stadium new york 08/09/23 ♡

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

did every hero really follow endeavor's plan during the jail break? I've never watched bnha, but I always figured there were more heros then Japan knew what do with. Was endeavor really just that worried about how the fight again AFO would go? and did AFO have the league with him? or other prison escapees? Given eraserhead was so entrenched?

As a preliminary matter--yes, it was way more than AfO. The League basically did what they did during the USJ arc and subcontracted their violent attacks. They needed a big force to first get AfO and everyone else out of Tartarus, and then they made it very clear (via loudspeaker and also fucking tweet) that they would all be very peacefully retreating while all those criminally insane and violent motherfuckers went that other direction. Ball's in your court as to how you want to tackle it.

AfO was the biggest threat, by fucking far, but it was far from isolated to him. It was the entire League of Villains + Their Very Special Friends. It was the kind of force that would be required to make the entirety of Tartarus fall for the first time in history. So the heroes had plenty to keep them busy.

And as to whether Endeavor was that scared about the next fight with AfO... Yeah.

I think bnha does a good job at establishing that All Might and AfO just exist at entirely different levels than every other person alive. Their fight leveled a decent chunk of Kamino. And I think that's kind of power and devastation is hard to conceptualize as like, people in a world where we don't have to worry about superhero fights. (as a side note--Sukuna's Big Fight in the Shibuya arc from JJK did better than any other fight in media to really capture the sheer cosmic horror of being caught as a bystander in one of those fights).

But endeavor saw it. He was there for AfO’s and All Might’s last fight. The gods were fighting. Everyone else was just an ant.

He is facing the villain that ultimately took down All Might. All Might won Kamino, sure. But he didn't get up again after. He was permanently and irreversibly taken out of play. And Endeavor has spent the last year feeling like he was struggling to be even half of what All Might was with two hours of productivity a day. He was so consistently voted to not be able to compare to All Might that he bought a wife and had four kids about it, all of whom hate him actively.

He does not think he is winning this fight. He is Japan's number one hero. The responsibility is going to fall to Midoriya Izuku to him. He is the best they have left, and the fight that would be coming was one that already nearly killed All Might, the one guy he has never ever been able to compare to. And when he really looked himself in the mirror and asked if he could stop AfO, the answer was no.

And it wouldn't just be AfO if he came back to power. It would be his followers--and he was liable to get more than just the current League of Villains roster. It would mean more Nomus. They could barely handle one Nomu--how could they possibly handle the Nomus, and the LoV, and AfO?

And the answer that he came to was that they couldn't. Not without All Might.

He thought he was sacrificing Yokohama for every single other city AfO was going to level if he had time to grow in strength again. He thought that if they threw absolutely everything they had at him while he was weak, then maybe they could contain him and the League before entire cities fell.

So. That's why he came to that decision. Why did every hero fall into line?

So what’s key to what happened here was it was this complete structural breakdown at exactly the wrong time.

Structural Flaw #1: Transportation

Was it every hero in Japan that responded to Endeavor’s order? No. But not every hero in Japan was available. Any heroes out of the immediate area were too far away to do shit.

But it's a massive crisis. Heroes would commute from all over if they could--but it's not about desire, it's about time and resources. With how imminently emergent the threat was, a lot of far-away heroes would need something like a jet to even conceivably get there in time.

Who is sending the jet?

Let's pin down what heroes could, conceivably, get there in time. Very few heroes are in walking distance. How do heroes typically get from Point A to Point B?

Hero society in bnha is an agency model. There is no communal pool of resources--you have what your agency has. You have a jet to transport you if your agency has the money for one, and I’m pretty sure only all might had that (he has since had it dismantled and the parts repurposed for the sake of the environment. He only had it to begin with so he could quickly respond to imminent threats. All Might thinks there's more than one way to save the world and saving the environment is part of it). Like. We even saw Endeavor flying fucking commercial.

But let's just assume, arguendo, that some agencies have jets. It would have to be the very top agencies to possibly afford it.

All of whom are shown in canon to mostly operate out of the same area. So they're going to have to send the jet somewhere else to get more heroes. Now any travel time is doubled. If they do send it out, how many people are they realistically getting? Are these heroes in multiple different cities? That's more travel time then. Maybe we just land the plane in Kyoto and whoever gets on in the twenty minute period while they're refueling is who is coming back. We'll hand them parachutes and kick them out the plane door over Yokohama. Okay. Good plan. Go team.

Who is sending the jet?

Like, who is physically making the call to send the jet? Who do they call? Do they just start ringing around their buddies and seeing if they have other plans? The city is on fucking fire and we need people fighting now, so the big name heroes don't have time to organize transport with other agencies. They’re not even thinking of that right now. Make it a sidekick's job.

They are all on fucking strike.

Fuck it. Fine. Make it an admin's job. There has to be some kind of office staff who can work a telephone who's available.

Who is thinking to send the jet?

Admins are not making strategic calls about where the company jets go. There would have to be some kind of protocol in place or someone with the authority to send the jet would have to think of it in the moment. And I guarantee you this would not be the case.

Because this is a society where they have canonically semi-privatized public safety and put people in direct competition with each other over it.

ASIDE: The Economic Structure of Heroics and Why It Sucks

I have an economic structure. You must listen to it. I promise it is relevant. This is why it takes me forever to do things it's because i get too deep into the weeds and have to explain the fucking economic structures underpinning the analysis for my nonsense to make sense.

How the fuck do heroes get paid?

I have no idea if canon ever tells us because to be so for real with you guys I have not watched this show in years. I haven’t cared about canon since the Shie Hassaikai arc. The fucking YouTuber arc broke me. I literally never watched it again. If they ever explain to us how heroes get paid I do not know and I do not care. I refuse to go back to canon. Everything I found out about canon after the Shie Hassaikai arc, I learned against my will. The ending to this story was so fucking stupid and I only have a scattered knowledge of the details but I’m still right. If canon ever tries to explain it then please do not tell me, I refuse to learn more things about this show.

But I still like poking around the potential economic structures based on the part of canon that doesn’t cause me psychic damage. So here’s the thought process for the economic underpinnings of hero society in the pez universe.

From canon, we know it can be an enormously lucrative profession, we know that it involves some degree of private interests (re: merch lines), and we know that there are some people who cannot have merch lines (Underground Heroes, e.g. Eraserhead), so there also must be some kind of public funding aspect to it as well. So. Who the fuck signs your paycheck?

Sources of Funding

a. Public Funding

There must be some kind of official governmental budget for heroics. Like. They are very much a public service. There would be no way to have a fully private heroics force without government funding. What else are you supposed to do, fucking Venmo heroes after they save you? Do they put your kitten back in the tree if you don’t have enough.

In my mind, there's public funds allocated to heroes as part of a city's budget. That funding is allotted based on the number of employees in a given entity balanced against the confirmed acts of heroics of that same given entity. There’s a base salary level and that can be increased based on how successful you are, but salary isn’t exclusively what this fund is for. The heroic entity (an individual hero or an Agency) is effectively receiving grant money from the government to run their agency. You put it into salaries, gear, office space, everything. The government is basically investing in heroes, and it’s investing more in heroes who are shown to have a greater positive impact on society.

It involves overly complex calculations regarding the scaled difficulty of a given bust/rescue/act and ranking of the villain (if there is one) and the overall public benefit for the service rendered. You get bonuses for having a lower average property damage, for contributing to community building projects, that kind of thing. It is Complex. There is a lot of paperwork that has to be submitted to strange and vaguely threatening government accountants. When Mirio and Izuku start their agency, they will burst into tears multiple times trying to figure it out once filing season rolls around, bundle all the paperwork in a Massive Tears And Shame Package, mail it off to the shadowy powers at be, and then get a perfunctory notice that they are getting a ludicrous amount of the city budget allotted to their dinky little agency for the upcoming fiscal year because they are Big Fucking Heroes and enormously good at what they do and it reflects in their stats. They will then lay on the ground of their haunted fucking office and stare at the ceiling for a very long period of time.

But this puts the heroes in competition with each other. Your public funding is chained to your stats under this model. There's only so many criminals out there--you've got to get the right numbers or it cuts into how much of a slush fund the agency is working with.

It's sort of an insane model for a public servant position, but I think it matches with what canon shows us. Imagine having firefighters pitted against each other. like, having a competitive model for public safety raises extreme concerns about how it incentivizes public servants to act.

But this isn't canon's model. It's my guess as to how canon works based on the hints i can remember and my own mental illness. So why do I think canon suggests a model like this?

It's because 1) canon does establish that heroes are in competition with one another and 2) this kind of model would likely be necessary due to the level of autonomy that heroes have.

The literal first fight we see involves heroes in competition with each other. Kamui Woods is doing a big Ultimate Move, and Mount Lady rushes in and steals the show. Like. that is crazy behavior if we are looking at this through the lens of a typical public servant. Imagine you're trying to get directions from a park ranger and a different park ranger kick flips in with a map and a desperate need for you to get your directions from them instead. You call poison control and they’re beating each other in the head over who gets to tell you you’re dying.

Still, on its own, the competition isn’t dispositive, because the private income streams (we'll get there) would incentivize competition even if public funding wasn't based on it. But the level of autonomy that hero offices exhibit also suggest some kind of competition model.

Heroics agencies are not run like a typical police force or fire station. With most entities that function as first responders, they respond to some kind of centralized force (like 911 call centers) and they have highly regulated resource distribution. Like, police forces are restricted to a specific jurisdiction. Within that jurisdiction they have multiple districts and officers typically stay in their district. They're not going to a different fucking city because they think the crime is cooler there.

But Endeavor does exactly that. He's like "hello, son who hates me. Let's go to Hosu because I want to fuck with the hero killer for street cred. won't you come along. It is non-optional" and todoroki says "i hate you father and will abandon you on our father son trip to set a serial killer on fire with my mind. it will be for mildly gay reasons."

These agencies aren't a centralized public service. They are all just off doing their own thing. They're not responding to specific areas as allotted to them by the city--they just fuck off and do whatever. Like, there's probably some coordination between agencies as to who is covering what patrol, but it likely would be more out of courtesy than formal requirement. People wouldn't step on each other's toes nearly as much if there was more of a structure to this.

Typical public agencies who receive funding in accordance with staffing and budgetary needs have more structure and formality than is exhibited in canon. Heroics Agencies act like they're all independent contractors. They probably function like grant money recipients, where they're all fighting for the same pool of funds. You have to write in and show why you deserve that money when that's the case. They're in competition with each other.

Like, is this definitively the structure in canon? No, of course not. I have no fucking idea what, if anything, canon has going on. But it definitely fits with canon.

b. Private Income Streams

We know from canon that it can't just be public funding. Izuku alone probably paid for the Mighty Agency private jet with how much fucking all might merch he bought. Canonically, heroes have merchandise lines, branding deals, commercials, everything. All Might had fucking movies made about him. Those are all extremely lucrative income streams--and likely where the richest heroes get the biggest brunt of their income.

In order to get this kind of income, you are necessarily in competition with your fellow hero.

Public attention, spending money, screen time, all of it--it's a limited resource. You have to be the person who gets to the fight first, who does the big move, who saves the day. If it's someone else? Then that's another kid buying their action figure instead of yours. Heroics is heavily commoditized in canon, and that inherently invites competition.

2. Distribution of Funds

So now that we have a theory as to where the money comes from, how does it get paid out? Based on canon, it comes down to a structure of (a) Independent/Underground Heroes and (b) Agencies.

a. Independent/Underground Heroes

I can't actually remember if the word "independent" is said in canon or if I came up with it, but I think canon implies its existence. It's basically the same thing as being an underground hero, but you're still a Spotlight hero. I also cannot remember if the underground/spotlight thing is canon or fanon or what I’m sorry I haven’t watched this show in years.

Independents are spotlight heroes without the backing of an agency. They just go out every day with the clothes on their back and a dream. They have no support staff, no back up, and no one to help them if things go sideways.

It is not a popular employment option.

Part of it is because it's that much harder to fund being an independent. Like. Say you're just out of high school and you decide to strike out on your own as independent. You're still spotlight, so you can have a merchandise line, and that'd be a nice income stream while you're just starting out.

How the fuck do you start your own t-shirt line?

How do you make contracts with the manufacturers? How do you make and copyright the design? how do you sell the stupid things? Do you try and get them in Walmart? Do you start an Etsy? Your own website? do you call your mom and cry when you have 500 ugly t-shirts with your face on them that no one wants to buy and they're taking up all the space in your studio apartment.

Agencies have preexisting structures in place to help launch these kinds of options, which is one of the reasons why they're so attractive for baby heroes just starting out. The only reason why Mirio has merchandise is because he decided that he didn't care and didn't need to make merch and Izuku came after him with feverish crack addict energy because he cared and he needed Lemillion merch like. yesterday. All Might ended up getting his agency to start a lemillion line. Mirio gets the profits with a reasonable fee to the Mighty Agency. To this day he suspects that Izuku is 70% of his sales but Izuku denies this fervently, like a liar (he actually has a small but very devoted fanbase who rabidly support him and buy all of his merch. he would cry if he knew this. Still. Izuku is his biggest fan and buys literally every single piece of new merch in triplicate.).

Underground heroes are in the same boat as independents but they don't even have the option of a merch line. They exclusively get public funding unless they're backed by an agency, which none of them are because agencies have a tendency to fuck them and their busts for the sake of the spotlight. All underground heroes are bitter and culturally opposed to agencies.

On that note:

b. Agencies.

This is where by far the most heroes would end up. But an agency is like thirty dudes with the same joint bank account. How does the money get there and get distributed out?

i. Public Funding in an Agency Context

Take the above model. How do you attribute public funds based on personal statistics if there's no single person? Does everyone get their own check? But that wouldn't make sense--this isn't just for salaries, it's for funding the actual heroics itself.

Everyone under the same agency would be counted together for the purposes of funding allotment. If Sidekick A managed 300 busts last year and Sidekick B man managed 350 busts, then congratulations, The Big Hero Hero Agency made 650 busts last year, here's a check made out to the agency, figure out what you want to do with it.

But what about incidents that involve multiple heroes from the same agency? Let's say that The Big Hero Hero Agency is involved in a big bust. It is Sidekick A's baby. They have spent months doing this. This has been blood, sweat, and tears. When the day comes, they are joined by Sidekick B, Sidekick C, and Big Hero himself. Sidekick B has been helping Sidekick A for the past three weeks on this case. Sidekick C got called in the day-of to help.

Big Hero showed up for the last twenty minutes of the fight when they were mostly done with everything.

So. You're filling out the post-arrest paperwork. For funding and for public statistics, you need to make sure to properly account for who gets credit for the bust. It has to be one person--if you had everyone individually credit themselves for the bust, then it looks like you've resolved four incidents instead of one under this financial model. it's artificially inflating your numbers for public funding. that's fraud. Who should get the credit: Sidekick A, Sidekick B, Sidekick C, or Big Hero?

Well, there's nothing stopping Big Hero from writing their own name. So let's go with Big Hero. He helped.

This was one of the big sources of the sidekick strikes: a lot of agencies had an absolute policy of attributing successes to the name hero if they touched the case at all, because there was no rule against it. It was better for the agency, after all--unrealistically high numbers on the biggest name meant the agency as a whole appeared more successful.

So there were a lot of heroes artificially inflating their stats with things that were more properly credited to their sidekicks. Which made it all the harder for sidekicks to leave because their stats were shit because their boss was taking credit for their work.

ii. Private Funding in an Agency Context

But that’s just public funding. How would agencies distribute private income streams?

Big Hero Agency is proud to announce its newest line of Big Hero Action Figures, featuring the Entire Big Hero Team, now retailing for $39.99. Get it now from a store near you.

So. An agency is selling an action figure line featuring Sidekicks A, B, and C, as well as Big Hero himself. We’ll round up to an even $40. How do we split up the cash?

You can’t give everyone each $10. You have to first pay the suppliers, the advertisers, the trucks that shipped the toys to the store, etc. Then you have to pay back into the agency to fund miscellaneous expenses—the stationary, the insurance, the coffee in the fucking break room. Everything. By the end, there’s only $4 of profit left over. Not great, but hey—they’re selling a lot of toys. So if they each get a $1, then it should add up quick.

Right. But. If you think about it, people are only really buying it for Big Hero. He’s the best hero of all of them—his name is on the agency, and just look at how much higher his stats are. So it’s only fair that he gets $3.70 a toy and the rest of them can get $.10 apiece. Don’t worry, it’ll add up quick.

Not all agencies would have been like this. But a lot of them would be. Money is a hell if an incentive to screw people.

END OF ASIDE.

With all that in mind—why would they feasibly have a structure to fly in help from other heroes far away? That’s their fucking competition. Sure, we have team ups, but they’re all either well in advance or in the heat of a moment. If they are in the heat of a moment, half the time the heroes resent it because they just stole their fight. They’re gonna what—pay the exorbitant jet fees to fly in someone who’s just going to steal their hard work in the eyes of the public?

Okay, but what about situations like this? Massive emergencies where you need more people?

Those haven’t ever happened before. They had All Might.

So. The heroes on the ground calling in help are out. What about the heroes who are close enough to make it there by ground transport? No one calls them, they just show up out of public need. How are they getting there?

Trains are out. All the trains into the area are shut the fuck down. We are not giving the freshly escaped villains a bullet train to the rest of the country. Same thing for buses. No fucking bus driver is making their regular route into a fucking battleground.

Private transportation it is. Anything more than a few hours out of the area is completely out of the question. Like, good ol’ Manuel from Hosu City and all his buddies? Not making it. The wild wild pussycats? Watched this on TV from their mountain home. Gran Torino? On FaceTime with All Might, who is watching the fight with Midoriya Inko’s hand gripped in his left and Bakugou Mitsuki’s hand gripped in his right. Gang Orca? Twelve hours away and on a fucking island so he needs a boat AND a car to get there. Or he just fucking swims.

But there has to be at least some hero that saw this happening and heroically climbed in their Mazda sedan to make the three hour car trip. Why didn’t they go to the fight in Yokohama instead of the one against AfO?

Frankly at that point those literal children were visibly doing way better than the actual heroes were faring and any heroes showing up went where they were most needed and uh. It wasn’t by the kids.

If we have the agency model as given to us by canon, then that means there is a decentralization of resources. If you want to utilize your public defense force in the case of emergencies, then you need a way to fucking get them to the emergency. Canon does not have that. This is a huge structural failing that only wasn’t a disaster sooner because most emergencies required one guy and he had his own private jet. So most heroes in the country never had to even consider if they would listen to Endeavor’s order because they were completely cut off and useless at the time.

So. Now the analysis has been narrowed from all of Japan’s heroes to just the ones in the immediate vicinity of the fight. That’s still a fuck ton of heroes. This is a heavily populated area with a bunch of heroes around. You can’t go outside without tripping over a hero.

Most of those guys were on fucking strike.

Structural Flaw #2: Over-Reliance on and Abuse of Sidekicks.

The vast majority of the workforce had to be sidekicks. Like, just from a business model perspective. Even the smallest agencies we saw had 2-3 sidekicks. Endeavor’s agency had at least double digits, and I think Idaten was at over a hundred or something. We were probably looking at, conservatively, a 1:10 ratio of heroes to sidekicks.

All those guys are on strike.

Okay. But not all of them, right? Idaten already settled and got their sidekicks back. That’s like a hundred guys.

Except the Strike was not isolated to the Tokyo/Mustufasa/Yokohama area. Idaten sent out a lot of their sidekicks to other regions to help alleviate some of the strains of the strike. (As a note, this was not the Idaten sidekicks crossing the picket line. Them picking up the slack for other sidekicks still striking would have helped minimize effects on the public. However, the agencies of the striking sidekicks would have reaped no benefit from this under the compensation structure outlined above. Idaten would have gotten the credit for everything their sidekicks did, so the other agencies would still be bleeding from this while risk to the public was slightly alleviated. Idaten’s entire function in this strike was to set an example for quick settlement and minimize public harm. There’s this entire sub-analysis on Idaten’s internal culture and how it intersects with broader heroics standards that I won’t get into now this is already way too long.)

Idaten is at 1/10 capacity. It has like, ten guys, all of whom have been working say, thirteen hour shifts (voluntarily—again, it was a decision made to try and minimize the public safety risks of the strike while still allowing their colleagues their best chance at improved conditions) daily for the past month.

All of those ten guys responded to Tartarus before Endeavor made the call.

To understand the exact nature of the breakdown, you really have to see the chaos of how exactly this unfolded.

The LoV and their merry band of criminals hit Tartarus. The heroes do not realize at this time that they intend to let everyone out, give them transportation, and point them straight towards the mainland. They think that they’re just there for AfO. That’s still a huge crisis that needs to be shut down immediately, so they call out all of their best. Endeavor responds. Hawks responds. Eraserhead responds. Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Miruko—everyone in the vicinity who could conceivably respond show up. For a second, it looks like it’s going to end here.

Once the LoV get AfO out of his cell, the entire tide of the battle turns against the heroes. Now everyone’s out. All of those horrible, terrible villains. Tartarus has fallen. They have to make hard decisions. The high ranking, very powerful heroes who are most likely to break the line on Endeavor’s decision? They’re already at the fight by the time he has to make it. It is chaos and something they cannot easily leave.

The LoV’s picked right now because they knew that the heroes were operating at less than a tenth of their regular capacity. They picked right now because they knew the system had structural faults, and if they hit them just right, it would all come down on the heroes’ heads.

But the sidekicks broke strike lines to respond, right? Why do they all go to endeavor’s side?

For one thing, it wasn’t all of them who showed up—maybe a third of them were not even in the area any more. It wasn’t malicious, or intentional, or anything like that—they were off visiting their families for the first time in a long time or taking vacation. All of them had spent the past few years being completely overworked and abused by their jobs. They just weren’t there.

So now we’re down to 2/3rds of them who can even try to show up.

A lot of it wasn’t actually made as a reasoned choice. For many of them, they ended up where they did because of all the chaos.

So you’re a sidekick. You’re on strike. The entire world has gone to shit. How do you normally find out about the world going to shit?

This is a competition model streamed through individual entities. There’s no central command structure. Your agency calls you.

Well, your agency either fucking fired you or they cut you off completely during strike negotiations. This time, you find out through the news when the story breaks. Now what?

You frantically try to get in touch with your (ex) agency. Who is picking up the phones?

No one. That was your fucking job before you went on strike.

I used to work at a government public-service type deal, and let me tell you, they abuse the fuck out of non-unionized workers. You are doing everyone’s job. No one ask why we don’t get more support staff because they have unions. Like. I had a law degree. I was hired to be a lawyer in that office. They had us all doing the jobs of four people, and by that I mean it would be the literal entire job description of another fucking position in that office and we were all expected to just do it too.

Unions incentivize treating workers right. The absence of them opens the door to the opposite.

Why the fuck would agencies hire more people to lighten the load on the sidekicks and let them focus on actual heroics? Just make the sidekicks do everything. What are they going do, complain? They’re a dime a dozen. Hire more of those fresh faced kids with no standards just out of school.

You know when you had a job where you’re like. This fucking place is going to fall apart without me. But they treat you as disposable and easily replaceable and you’re like “okay bet” and so you leave and you find out from the people left behind that it actually fucking fell apart without you and you’re just like :o

Yeah. So that happened.

There has been a massive break down in the function of heroics offices for the past month and change because the sidekicks were not there. They were the ones who actually did most of the day to day handling of the office. They were the ones coordinating transport and figuring out the actual mechanics of who would be deployed where in a crisis. All those things that would be super helpful now? Yeah, those guys aren’t there, and they’re locked out of the fucking offices and can’t get in to un-strike for the sake of societal crisis.

But they know where the fight is. It’s on the news. Why don’t they just show up?

Where’s their gear?

Who owns it?

Heroics support gear must be an enormously expensive thing. It would have to be provided by the agency itself. Literally the only reason why Mirio has gear is because 1) all might would NEVER let his pseudo step son run around without proper support so the man would have bankrolled it himself if needs must and 2) the UA support class has a stipend each year where they can make support gear for active heroes and those heroes get it for free in exchange for free advertising for the students trying to kick start their careers, so he is decked out in THE most experimental bullshit from Hatsume Mei Industries (I have this entire side plot where the support class this class year low key became a sort of religious cult haha not really it’s just a joke it’s not really a joke and power loader is afraid every single day when he comes to work he is afraid under the iron clad rule of Hatsume Mei’s weird girl energy and they all decided Mirio was the Tabula Rasa, a figure of prophecy, and I just cannot get into that right now it’s too long it’s too long already. But it’s so fun).

All those sidekicks on strike lost valuable time trying to get back into their agencies so they weren’t showing up to an S-class villain fight in their fucking jammies. Then, when some poor admins figured out what was going on and let some of them in, everyone was frantically gearing up and getting in whatever transport van they were pointed at. Some of them didn’t know they werent reporting to Yokohama until they were already at the other fight. There’s was so much chaos and confusion that very few people had a clear idea of what was happening.

With the sidekicks, some of them never made it, some of them just got in a van and went wherever it took them, and some of them chose to obey Endeavor’s orders. Some agreed with the decision. Some disagreed but deferred to his experience. With how the Sidekick Strike had left their infrastructure, very few sidekicks were able to respond fast enough to make any real difference.

Now for the last possible demographic: the heroes that weren’t on strike and weren’t initially deployed to the Tartarus Prison Break. Why didn’t any of them go to Yokohama?

Structural Flaw #3: All Might was that one kid doing the entire group project for like forty years and some of these people are having to be heroes for the very first time and realizing that they don’t actually want to risk their lives to save people they just sort of liked the idea of this job.

It may be a bit too specific to be a structural flaw but I’m counting it anyway.

So, just to give a bit of a recap: We consider every hero alive in Japan as a candidate for Endeavor’s order. The vast majority of them are too far away to do shit, and there’s no centralized transport network to get them there faster. Toss in those who are dealing with personal medical issues or are away on vacation or just can’t come for some reason or another, and you’ve lost most of the heroes in Japan as respondents. Probably ~80% of potential heroes are culled from this alone.

So we have, generously, 20% of Japan’s heroes left as potential people to respond. ~90% of those are sidekicks on strike. They’ve got hours before they make it to any fight, because of the aforementioned structural breakdowns.

Now we’re down to 2% of Japan’s total heroes.

Some of that 2% were first responders to the initial Tartarus prison break. All the big name heroes in the area. But there can’t be that many top heroes—so let’s say 0.2% of them were at the initial fight.

Now we only have the remaining 1.8% of heroes to analyze.

There have to be a percentage of those who agreed with Endeavor’s call as a tactical decision. If they show up to any fight, they’re going to be obeying his order.

So we only have the ones who disagreed with his call left to look at.

These are small-time heroes. All of the big names are already at the fight. So they are less likely to have flashy Quirks, be especially talented, or consider themselves to have an especially large effect in the grand scheme of things. They have likely spent their entire careers living in a world with All Might.

It has never actually been down to them.

Think of Uwabami. Momo did her work study with her.

Her hero outfit is a fucking evening gown. She spent the entire work study doing commercials and meeting with her fans. She explicitly invited the young heroes that she did because she thought they were cute enough to be in commercials with her.

Now, she’s had some good if minor moments helping rescue civilians. It’s not that she’s never saved anyone.

But all of the top heroes are already committed to the fight against AfO. The current Number One Hero just ordered all her colleagues to report there. And Yokohama has a lot of S-Class villains en route.

And what the fuck is she going to do to stop them? It’s just her. Half of those villains took All Might to stop the first time. She is not fucking all might.

Is this a hero likely to go to Yokohama completely on her own to fight *checks notes* literally the entire prison population minus one guy? The worst guy, albeit. But one guy.

These are all heroes who have never had to be the actual thing standing between society and destruction. There has always been someone more powerful or capable or heroic nearby. Until recently, there has always been all might.

This isn’t to malign them. A decent percentage of them are legitimately well meaning about being a hero. They do good. But when it came to the big, blowout fights, they have always, always, always been the heroes evacuating civilians in the background or performing rescue in the aftermath. It has never been them who had to stand up and do the fight itself.

Every single one of those villains represent a big, blowout fight. And this hero trying to decide if he’s going to obey Endeavor’s order? They are one guy. And they’re not sure if they could even beat one of those villains alone, let alone all.

The reason why no one disobeyed Endeavor’s order was because, frankly, at the end of the day, they did not want to die.

Endeavor’s order signaled to everyone that there was no guarantee anyone would show up to Yokohama. It actually put good odds to the opposite. If you decided “fuck that, I’m going to Yokohama” then you’d likely be doing it alone.

What Class 2-A did was considered a death sentence. People who didn’t know them and their bullshit were shocked that they all made it out alive. These were the worst villains their society had ever faced and it was all of them at once (minus that one guy).

The heroes who were in a position to disobey endeavor didn’t actually think it’d make a difference if they did. They’d just… lose.

Most if not all of these heroes made the decision to become heroes during all mights era of peace. Everything just had lower stakes. Crime was less frequent and less serious. The big fights always had someone there who could handle them, because All Might was there. They’d fight the odd mugger or purse snatcher and help put out fires and go home at the end of the night. They’re heroes. That doesn’t mean they’ve ever truly had to grapple with a life or death fight.

If they went to Yokohoma, they thought they’d die. So they might as well respond to a fight that has a chance. Even if they feel ashamed as they do it. Even if they think Endeavor made the wrong call and wanted to go to Yokohama instead. All Might wasn’t there anymore. And they were afraid.

But there is one thing that Class 2-A had going for them that gave them an advantage over these heroes. And that was the fact that they are all medically insane.

It’s that they were together.

It’s a decentralized heroics structure. If you have a large agency, you are necessarily a top hero because no one else would be able to get that many people to agree to work under them. So you’re already at Tartarus and this isn’t a decision you had to make.

Maybe you’re independent. Maybe you have a small agency with 2-3 people. There is no preexisting centralized line that you can use to try and gather more people to go to Yokohama with you. You’re stuck with your immediate colleagues and maybe a few other heroes you’re close enough with to have their number. You really don’t have time to try and ask around to see if anyone else wants to go to Yokohama instead—you need to pick a battle and get there yesterday.

What good is 2-3 people going to do in Yokohama? You’ll just get massacred and it won’t have made a difference. At least if you go to stop AfO, you’ll have a chance at doing something that mattered.

Maybe you disagree with Endeavor but you defer to his training and experience.

Maybe you don’t go at any fight at all. Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe you became a hero in a time where you had a symbol of peace, and you realize you can’t keep doing it in a time without one.

I think there’s a small subsection of heroes that quit in the aftermath of Yokohama. Because they wanted to disobey endeavor’s order, and they thought they’d just die and it wouldn’t matter, and then dawn came and a bunch of school kids had managed what they were too big of a coward to do. I think the fact that they fell into line when their hearts told them they shouldn’t made them seriously doubt whether they were good enough to be a hero.

But they were alone when Endeavor made the call. And it felt like certain death. And—yeah, it sort of felt that way to Class 2-A when they made the decision to respond. But they weren’t alone when they did it.

They were together. And they always felt braver when they were together. Together, they could make miracles happen.

[toastywindow]

man, i just love the ichigang just cause theyre the very definition of ride-or-die friends. ichiban trying to cope with his grief by punching grunts, and the gang is like cool with it. ichiban deciding to fight The Kazuma Kiryu, and they can feel- hell, they know that man is out of their league, but theyre like 'fuck it, we need to support our bff like how he did to us'