#then who the fuck are you to tell them they had it coming cause

[blushsturns]

I have a request!! What if reader just started to ignore Chris or Matt while shopping and they don’t like it at all and kinda punish reader? (It’s okay if not comfortable!!)

title: shopping spree

word count: 3576

warnings: this contains explicit content and portrays rough sex, but it is all consensual! dom!chris, daddy kink, slight degradation, spanking, rough sex, pet names, sex in public (kind of), unprotected p in v, pure filth.

You loved shopping. No matter what you were going shopping for, you loved walking around and looking at different things. Even if it meant your wallet (or Chris’ wallet) would be empty at the end of the day, it was usually money well spent and worth it.

Unfortunately, sometimes you get so caught up in the shopping that you tend to forget who you were with, no matter who it is. You had begged Chris to take you to the mall to look at new skirts that you saw online and couldn’t wait to have them shipped to the house, so going in person was the better deal. 

You hadn’t talked to him in an hour as you aimlessly scrolled the aisles of all the pretty clothing in front of you. Chris stood far behind, his arms crossed over his chest, a slight huff escaping from the center of his chest. You were oblivious to the fact that you were straight up ignoring him. It wasn’t intentional, you just tend to get too excited about shopping and don’t realize what is actually going on around you.

So when Chris couldn’t take it anymore and led you out of the store and into the nearest bathroom, locking the door in the process, your body was jolting with anticipation for what was coming next.

You have been punished by Chris before. When you’re being stubborn, or bratty, or don’t get your way. Chris usually has you bent over his knee with your ass on full display as he spanks you, leaving your sensitive flesh reddened with his hand imprinted on your pale skin. You didn’t mind the punishments when they happened. If anything, it turned you on to see Chris in his element; in full control, dominance seeping through him like he was born for it. You fucking loved seeing his face reddened with anger, his strong grip on your throat as he fucks you into the mattress and absolutely degrading you; telling you what a filthy whore you are for him and for his cock. He wasn’t wrong, not one bit.

A soft gasp emitted from your throat at the feeling of him lifting you up onto the sink, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck as you push your body up into his. You wore the shortest skirt in your closet with your knee high stocking and your pretty top to go with it that shaped your curves and your plump tits so perfectly. 

His strong grip on your waist caused a soft moan to escape your lips, but he immediately moved one of those hands from your hip to your mouth to cover it, his eyes already darkening with lust and desire. “Not one fucking sound, or word will come out of this pretty little mouth of yours, you hear me? If anyone hears us, we’ll be kicked out.”

The thrill was exhilarating and you whimpered which muffled against his hand, your body pressing up into his. You could already feel his cock hardening against the fabric of his jeans as he pressed himself into you. You were trapped behind the wall with his body pressed into you, but you didn’t mind one bit. 

Your core was hot and you already felt your panties becoming drenched as you wrapped your legs around him to pull him even impossibly closer to you. 

A soft growl erupted from the back of his throat and he pulled his hand away from your mouth and wrapped his fingers around your neck to give it a firm squeeze, causing your eyes to widened and a soft whimper to escape your lips. “Such a naughty girl, ignoring daddy like that. What were you thinking, hm?” His voice was filled with dominance, lust, desire. Your cunt was throbbing just by hearing him speak, but feeling his hardened cock pressing up against you and having his hand wrapped around your throat only turned you on even more. You loved this kind of thing, so much. Sometimes you even debated in your head to pretend to do something to piss him off, just so you can rile him up and see him like this, but you knew you had to be a good girl. Daddy’s good girl.

He leaned forward and presses his lips against yours with urgency, and hunger evident in his motions. He moved his hand away from your throat to your jaw to grip it firmly, immediately taking your bottom lip between his lips and sucking onto it, causing a soft gasp to emit from your lips. 

A shudder ran down your spine at the feeling of his lips against yours as he began to suck and tug onto your bottom lip before he began to slide his tongue past your lips and came in contact immediately with your tongue. Your tongues fought for dominance, a groan escaped his lips and muffled through the kiss. He moved his free hand down in between the both of you where your skirt rose up from your legs being wrapped around his waist on the sink. 

His hand immediately found your cunt through your lacy panties and began to circle your clit through the material with the pad of his thumb, causing a soft whine to leave your lips. “Oh..daddy.” You breathed out against his lips, pushing your hips up into his hand. You could feel your cunt growing even more drenched by the second, butterflies roaming in your tummy from his touch and the feeling of his lips now pulling away from yours to travel down to your neck. 

He placed messy kisses against the base of your neck, blowing hot air against your skin before suddenly parting his lips and sucking onto your sensitive flesh hard enough to create a pretty bruise, leaving behind only the prettiest marks for a story only the two of you would share and cherish. You tilted your head to the side to grant him more access, licking over your lips in a hungry motion, a pathetic whimper leaving your lips. 

Chris tugged your lacy panties to the side and immediately dipped his fingers into your soaking wet folds, his thumb circling against your swollen clit. “So fuckin’ wet already f’me aren’t you, ma? So fuckin’ hot.”

A soft moan emitted from your lips at the feeling of his fingers against your dripping wet cunt. Your slick arousal already coated his fingers as he began to slip both his middle and ring finger deep into your cunt and tilting his wrist to slide them in even deeper, your gummy walls clenching around his digits instantly. 

Your eyes widened and you let out a choked moan, throwing your head back and fluttering your eyes closed, biting a little too hard onto your bottom lip to try and contain any more sounds from coming out of your mouth. You couldn’t help it, even if you were technically still in public. Chris made you feel so damn good all the time, even if you knew you still had a punishment in store.

Once he began to pump his fingers deep inside of your gummy walls, you could hear your slick arousal squelching around them. “Fuck, so fuckin’ tight. Bet this feels good to you, doesn’t it?” 

You could feel his cock throbbing and twitching immensely through the fabric of his jeans against your body as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, going deeper and faster within each thrust. He pressed messy kisses to your neck, rolling his tongue along your flesh and creating love bites against your pretty skin.  

A loud moan escaped your needy lips, causing the sounds to echo through the bathroom walls. Chris pulled away from your neck and immediately let out a growl, shaking his head in disbelief. “What did I tell you, ma? I told you to be quiet. Can’t fuckin’ believe you.” He pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, causing you to whimper out at the loss of contact, immediately feeling your gummy walls clenching against nothing but emptiness. 

You could practically scream in agony, already soaking wet and desperate for him to destroy you in the absolute way. He had the power over you;he could control when and if you get to cum which made it even more frustrating, but you secretly loved it. “D-daddy.” You whine out, trying to keep your legs locked around him, but he pulls your legs off him so that your feet are back on the ground, causing you to let out another whimper. “I can’t help it.” 

He shook his head in disbelief, a darkened chuckle escaped his lips and immediately turned you over so that your ass was facing him, your hands now resting against the sink in front of you as you took a look at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were crimson red, your hair a mess, and you already looked completely fucked out. If Chris fucks you right here, you’ll both get a show through the mirror in front of you.

“You can’t help what?” Chris notices you’re looking through the mirror and makes eye contact with you through it, flashing you a devious smirk, cocking his eyebrow slightly. “Can’t help being a dirty little slut? Can’t help loving daddy’s fingers inside of you? Or, can’t help being a little fuckin’ brat who ignored me, damn well knowing was gonna get punished for it?”

His words were like velvet; thickened with lust and slightly angered, but also pure desire. Chris hiked your skirt up and allowed it to rest on your hips. He practically ripped your panties from off you, causing it to shred to pieces onto the floor. Even though they were one of your favorite pairs, you knew that it was worth it.

Chris lets out a satisfied groan as he stares at your beautiful ass before him, his hands immediately gripping your ass cheeks in his palms and kneading it slowly, caressing your soft skin in smooth circles and watching it jiggle and shake within his touches.

“Such a beautiful ass. What a shame she’s gonna have to learn a lesson or two.” 

Before you could even try to reply, you watched through the mirror as his hand raised up and immediately came into contact with your ass cheek, smacking your ass harshly and causing you to yelp out, your fingers gripping the skin before you. “Fuck.” You groaned through clenched teeth. You loved when he smacked your ass, it only made you even more turned on.

Your pussy throbbed immensely as he continued to smack your ass several times, leaving pink tinted hand imprints behind and kneading your ass cheeks to soothe the soreness you felt already from the amount of smacks you had received against it. Your slick arousal practically dripped down your thighs with each and every smack from his hand, your fingers gripping the sink so tightly your knuckles started to tingle and turn white from the intense grip against the surface. 

“Please.” You found yourself pleading out, thrusting your hips back against him impatiently. He began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers. You knew you were in for a punishment, but your ass was sore, your pussy was throbbing, and you needed to be fucked, immediately.

Looking at him through the mirror while he stood behind you was such a turn on. Whenever he fucked you from behind, you always wished you could see his face and how much pleasure he genuinely gets when he’s fucking into you and grabbing onto your ass cheeks, or your hair, for dear life. “Please what, ma? You’re gonna have to beg f’me. Can’t hear you.” 

You let out a frustrated, impatient whimper, pushing your ass back against him. You could feel his hardened, throbbing length against your ass as you continued to push your ass back against him. Your pussy was throwing, aching, soaking wet and needed to be filled. You gripped the sink tighter, looking up in the mirror again and watching as Chris licks over his lips as he kneads your ass cheek in his hand, using his other hand to grab onto his own length and spreading your ass cheek to find your hole. 

He rubs the tip of his cock against your soaking wet folds, causing you to moan out softly, biting gently onto your bottom lip to try and contain your moans. Last thing you wanted was for him to stop before things hardly even started. “Need you inside me, daddy. Been such a bad girl, but need you to fuck me until I’m dumb. Please. Put that cock to use and fuck me stupid. Need you now.” Your words were filthy, whiny, desperate.

Chris groans at your words, slapping his hardened cock against your soaking wet folds, licking over his lips as he runs the tip up and down against your slick to lather himself up, using his hand to pump his own cock. You spread your legs, your knuckles white from gripping the sink too tightly,  “So needy, so desperate f’me aren’t you, you dirty slut? Fuck, you’re dripping wet, already coatin’ my cock. Such slutty behavior.” 

You loved being degraded and the words he spoke to you. Seeing Chris like this only turned you on even more and left you dripping wet. “Please.” You begged, your head tilted down, biting hard into your bottom lip so hard that you could draw blood if you wanted to. 

He flashes you a devious smirk, licking over his own lips. He grabs your ass cheek in his hand, his fingers digging into the skin to cause scratch marks which only made you wince through clenched teeth, a whiny whimper following suit. He slapped your ass one more time before grabbing ahold of your ass cheek once again to spread you open, the tip of his cock running up and down your slick arousal before suddenly feeling his cock slide deep inside of you inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you. 

Your eyes widened as he suddenly filled you up completely, a long drawn out moan escaping your lips as your gummy walls clench around him immediately. You look up at him through the mirror, his face distorted with pleasure as he begins to thrust his hips back into you causing you to jolt forward against the sink. Your grip was even tighter on the sink to hold yourself up, spreading your legs even wider to feel him slide deeper inside of your needy hole.

“God damn, this pussy was made for me.” He spoke out in a raspy, lustful tone as he began to slide out of you only to thrust back into you deeper, your ass jiggling with each and every thrust. He gripped onto your ass cheeks for leverage as he threw his head back onto his shoulder, a groan escaping his throat. “Such a needy little pussy. Acting so bratty, needed to be fucked, didn’t you?” 

All you could do was cry out your reply, your head bent down as you grip tighter against the sink, your tits and ass bouncing with each and every thrust he made behind you, feeling him slide deeper inside of you until he began to probe at your sweet spot causing you to moan even louder now. Your moans echoed throughout the bathroom walls, but you didn’t care, and apparently neither did Chris.

He moved one of his hands up to grip your hair to roughly pull your head back against him so that your lips could press together in a needy, messy kiss. You gasp against the kiss at the sudden, rough movement with his fingers still tangled in your hair as you kiss him back with the same urgency, moaning against his lips as you push your needy hips back into his. “Fuck, daddy.” You moan out against his lips, the sound of your slick arousal squelching around his thickened girth. 

The kiss was messy, full of saliva and heavy breathing and incoherent moans leaving both of your lips, but both of you didn’t care. All you could focus on was Chris deep inside of you and how you were already so close to your orgasm. He released your hair from his strong grasp causing your lips to pull away from his and bringing your head back against the sink. He used the same hand to grab your ass cheek and smacked your flesh roughly, causing you to moan out in pleasure.

He thrust in and out of you at a rapid pace as both of your moans echoed the walls, his cock twitching inside of you as your gummy walls clenched around him. “You gonna cum f’me, pretty girl? Touch that clit of yours and cum all over my cock, ma.” 

You nodded your head quickly, your chest heaving up and down from the breathless moans you were letting out, your body shaking as you immediately pull your hand down to come in contact with your swollen nub, beginning to rub it in fast circles to match the pace of his ruthless thrusts.

“Daddy! I’m g-gonna cum!” You moan out breathlessly, throwing your head back onto your shoulder, your fingers rubbing your swollen, soaking wet clit vigorously as your eyes stay locked onto the mirror before you to watch Chris the entire time as he continued to fuck into you from behind. Your gummy walls clenched around his cock, a shudder running down your spine as your orgasm begins to take over your body, clenching down hard against his cock as your orgasm rolls through you. 

You let out a string of moans and profanities, his name falling from your lips as you thrust your hips back into his to rock out your own orgasm, pulling your hand away from your swollen, overly sensitive clit, your legs shaking from the intense orgasm that had taken over you. 

Chris groaned in pleasure as he watched you, and felt you around hs cock, as you allowed yourself to fully let go. He was so close and just by watching you release all around his cock, he knew he was about to paint your gummy walls white. 

“Gonna cum inside this tight little cunt, ma. S’all mine.” He grunted out through clenched teeth, thrusting one final time into your sweet pussy as you suddenly felt his cock twitching inside of your wrecked hole as he began to empty his entire load deep inside of your pussy, incoherent moans leaving his lips as he gripped your ass cheeks hard to keep himself steady, allowing his entire load to fill your pussy to the brim.

Another shudder rolled through you, fire coursing through your veins, and your heart beating rapidly in your chest as he finished releasing his load, some of his cum leaking out of your pussy and against your thighs as your head fell to the sink in pure exhaustion, low moans leaving your tired lips. “Fuck, daddy..”

He let out a satisfied groan, slowly grabbing his own cock to slip his length out of your pussy, using one of his hands to spread your ass cheek to watch his load slip out of you and fall against your thighs. He used his index finger to swipe the cum back inside of your spent hole, a soft whimper leaving your lips as your pussy began to clench around the emptiness, already missing being filled up by his cock.

He leaned forward, his sticky and sweaty skin pressing up against you as he gripped your jaw with his fingers to hold your face steady, pressing your lips against his deeply. You gasped at the sudden movement, immediately melting into the kiss, your forehead resting onto his.

“Fuck, ma. So fuckin’ good. Love you, and this pussy so goddamn much.” He pulled away from your lips, keeping your jaw firmly gripped in his hands as he took in your fucked our appearance. His lips curved into a slight smirk as he stared at you, causing your cheeks to turn a dark shade of pink.

You felt more of his cum seeping out of your spent hole as it mixed with your slick arousal. Your pussy continued to clench around nothing, your legs shaking as you turned your body around to face him, wrapping your arms lazily around his neck. “Even when I’m being a brat and ignoring you?”

He grinned as he placed both of his hands against the side of your face, using one of those hands to place a strand of your hair over your ear. You could feel his now softened cock slightly pressed against your thigh, some of his cum still oozing from the tip. You didn’t care that your hole was filled of his cum, or that you just got fucked in the bathroom of the mall. It was all worth it and made you love him even more, if that were possible.

“Hm yes, because we both know where we end up when that happens.”

You did know where you ended up where you acted bratty, and ended up ignoring him totally by accident.

It usually led you to this very point, getting punished in the absolute way and you loved it, so fucking much.

You loved Chris, so fucking much, and that would never change.

notes: thank you so much for the request! if you have any more, don't hesitate to send them to my inbox.

taglist: @strangelife122 @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @mattsplaything @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats @sturniszn @estellesdoll @freshsturnzx @ivyyyyyysposts @sturnberries @sturniolochrismatt @lovesturni0l0s

-nessa

[thatoneautisticshark]

We've been blessed with Gaz taking care of a sick Ghost, but what do you think about a situation of Price taking care of a sick Soap? 👀

-ttt (who may or not be sick right now with a cold and loves a good comfort sick care fic🤧)

yes very very cute. It's a bit short sorry lol. I'm sleepy. Art at the end!!

Price glanced up from his paperwork as the door creaked open, and Soap walked in brandishing a stack of papers. “Finally finished all the fucking shitty paperwork ye gave me, if you give me more I'll bloody shank ye”

Price huffed a laugh, taking the papers, bopping soap on the head with them. “Don't be threatening your captain Mactavish” he chided putting the papers on his desk.

He turned back to the scot, frowning slightly. Soap wasn't looking good. His eyes were a little red, he was pale and swaying slightly on his feet, and when Price looked a little closer, he saw the others hands shaking.

He chewed on his lip as he debated it. As a friend, he was worried, and wanted to care for his friend. But as a professional and captain, he might be crossing lines.

But as he watched Soap sneeze and then wince as if the sneeze had caused him pain, Price knew he couldn't just professionally drop it.

“Mactavish, you solid?”The scot startled slightly looking up at Price.

“Uhm yeah… yeah I'm okay Cap”

Well that was bullshit. Soap looked like he may collapse if the wind blew too hard. And Soap clearly knew it was bullshit.

“Would you like to try that again? Because that was false”

Soap winced “Right sorry..” he chewed over his words “Uhm… I'm just a bit off.. think ay got a cold…’ts no big deal sir”

“Oh don't bullshit me. You are shaking, you should be resting”

Soap pulled a face, somehow still fighting while being sick. “Ay am fine Price! Christ ye acting like… a bloody.. mother hen ye numpty…” He trailed off at the end, and Price barely had time to stick out his hands, catching the sergeant as his legs gave out.

Price quickly wrapped his arms around the waist, holding the other up. “Mactavish seriously?”

The man in his arms groans, pushing himself back to his feet.“I-....sorry sir.. I'll be okay”

Okay? Price looked at him incredulously. The man was barely standing and had the gall to say he'd be okay?

“You need to rest, Mactavish, and I don't trust you'll rest if I tell you too. So you are coming with me”

The scot stammered in confusion but let himself be dragged towards the captains quarters. “I..wha- but…. Okay..” he finally conceded.

When they arrived at Price's room he gently pushed the other onto the bed, Soap not having the energy to argue, laying down and drifting off.

Over the next few hours he stirred a few times but never woke up, until Price was just beginning to wonder if he would be sleeping on the couch, when the sergeant woke, mildly delirious.

“I'm colddd” he whined at price, who was holding back a chuckle, while walking over.

He sat on the edge of the bed, before letting out an undignified squeak as Soap pulled him down. “Warm.”

Price blinked as soap clung to him, considering his options. He could easily push the other off. Soaps' grip was weak, and he couldn't fight.

But he just couldn't bring himself to. Soap was so vulnerable right now. And in this state he choose to seek out Price.

He sighed pulling his shirt off and sliding under the covers letting Soap rest on his chest, Soap immediately snuggling in.

This wasn't the worst thing ever.

And if when morning came and Price didn't want to wake soap so he simply read the reports with the other on him, who would know?

If anyone can identify what the wallpaper is, kudos. I wanna see if anyone gets it

[rafesbbdoll]

part 2 of soft spots ?

soft spot . rafe cameron

warnings . soft!rafe, cursing, NOT PROOFREAD

wc . 939

part one. part two.

it had been a few weeks since the beach incident with the kooks. the pogues have kept their distance from them, staying at poguelandia and in the cut. during late nights, however, y/n would sneak off to hang out with rafe.

it's wasn't like they were a secret of course. but, the other pogues and kooks would not approve of the two. rafe and y/n had a connection after that night with the turtles. y/n saw a softer side of rafe that she didn't even know existed, let alone that could come out of rafe. they would go to the beach, go on drives, stay at his house. you could say they're friends.

today was the hearing at the town hall for the house all the pogues owned. you were following behind kiara, all of you making your way to take your seats. "this is bullshit," you whispered to her. kiara nodded, shaking her head in disbelief. "literally. we had a whole auction for it and now they want to take it away," she replied, rolling her eyes as the mayor began.

everyone who lived on the cut was heated as everyone heard the following procedures for the house. out of the corner of your eye, you saw rafe on the side with the kooks. turning your head fully, you made eye contact him, silently saying "what the fuck". rafe shook his telling, almost signaling for you not to worry about it. focusing your attention back, you looked over to find jj missing. "guys? where's jj?"

just then you heard a loud crash of glass from behind you, making everyone turn their heads. jj had smashed a window with a chair, sending everyone into a frenzy. soon then, everyone rushed out of the building, cops left and right, people runnning and screaming. you stuck beside the pogues, all shouting about jj's whereabouts. "i think i know where he went," john b said, motioning his hand to the twinkie.

just as you were about to follow them, you felt a hand on your shoulder pulling you back, turning to find that it was rafe. "what the hell!" you yelled. "i have to go with them! jj is missing!"

"i will drive you, okay. it's bad enough that he's running wild. shoupe is probably gonna look at y'all next," he replied, his handing moving to your lower back, gesturing you to his truck. "if this is a bullshit tactic, rafe, i'll kill you," you said as you got into the passenger seat.

it was now later in the evening. rafe was driving all around town with you, attempting to find jj. "here," you said motioning to the plaza. getting out of the truck, you found glass all over the street, a car on fire, and a sparking power line. rafe kept you close to him so you wouldn't get hurt. you got out your phone, texting sarah where jj might've been and sending your location.

a few minutes later, the pogues showed up, looking at all the damage jj must've caused. cleo and kiara were the first to notice you and rafe. "y/n!", they both shouted. turning back, you immediately waved them over. "look at what he did!", you said, motioning to the damage. everyone looked around, kiara shaking her head. "where are you, jayj?"

just then, the riot made its way to the plaza, throwing smoke bombs, fireworks, and more. "we have to find him before they do," john b said. everyone nodded before running into the direction of the forest. you turned to rafe, looking up at him before speaking. "i'm going to go with them. just text or call me if you see him."

rafe rolled his eyes before nodding. "i'm only doing this because i like you." you smiled lightly, "thanks, rafe."

a few hours have passed. the pogues found jj, now at a campfire away from the island. you and the girls were having small talk until sarah turned to you. "y/n? what were you doing with rafe earlier?"

you turned to face her, catching the attention of kiara and cleo. "well... about that... rafe and i are friends," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. the guys heard "rafe" and "friends" and instantly turned to you. "what?!"

"remember that day on the beach? with the turtles?", you asked. they all shook their heads, john b speaking up, "you didn't come with us back home." you nodded. "i had an injured turtle in my hand and rafe helped me. he took me to the vet and we got it fixed up and freed it ."

sarah giggled, "rafe? no way. he used to shoot birds with his bb guns when we were kids." you shrugged. "i don't know but he did help me. and..... we been kinda hanging out." jj and john b's eyes both widened. "hanging out?? what do you mean? you don't just hang out with rafe," jj exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes, lightly hitting his arm. "well are y'all dating or something?", cleo asked. you shook your head. "no. but, he did admit that he liked me earlier," you replied, looking away. "what?!", everyone screamed in unison.

you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe it was the heat of the moment," you replied. they all shook their heads. "no way. don't do that 'heat of the moment' bullshit," jj said. just then, you phone dinged with a text message, making the girls squeal. you rolled your eyes in response. "it probably isn't even rafe," you replied picking your phone up. but to your surprise, it was.

rafe 🏄: come over to my place?

part 3?

[insomniac4000]

Chained Together George Clarke Part 8

“Good night?” Harry smirked the next morning as he walked into the bedroom where George and Florence had stayed that night. The pair were both sitting up in bed, both of them scrolling on their phones.

“I would come up with a quip but you have the keys,” Florence uttered. She didn’t have a particularly restful sleep, she kept waking up and from what she could sense from George he was the same.

“Well you have twenty minutes of rest bite. Use it wisely.” Harry smirked suggestively. Florence rolled her eyes but had a small smile on her face. She rubbed her wrist when the cuffs were taken off and took herself off to the bathroom, feet padding on the floor.

“I tell you what you definitely won out the lottery,” Harry nodded to the direction Florence had gone in. The sound of the shower raining down let them both know Florence was well out of ear shot.

“What do you mean?” George asked running a hand through his hair.

“Well most of us said if we wanted to be stuck with anyone it would have been Florence,” Harry replied.

“Really?”

“You can’t deny she’s an attractive girl,”

“That may be so, doesn’t mean I like her,” George huffed as he finally got off from the bed and walked over to his duffle bag to get his outfit for the day.

“Alright mate. Harry smiled again before exiting the room.

Breakfast was unusually quiet, it seemed no one had slept well and there was another night to go. The ate their fruit and pastries and sipped their coffee in near silence when the door swung open and Simon came swanning in, the rest of the boys behind him.

“Good morning everyone!” Simon was far too chipper for that time of the morning, he got a couple of groans back, everyone anticipating what was about to come next.

“Ready for your second challenge?” The tall Youtuber asked and once again he was only met with some grunts.

“We’re barely half way through guys,” Simon laughed as he handed out three coloured envelopes to each pairing which were numbered with one, two and three. They opened them together with instructions to read them in turn. Chip read first, then Cal and finally George.

“Through mud and walls, we twist and turn,”

“Hand in hand, we leap and learn.”

“Bound together, swift we race—who will win this tricky chase? Does this mean what I think it means?” George whined, Florence glanced at him a little before looking back to Simon.

“If you all want to come out to the garden,” Simon replied with a smile, Ethan and Harry were giggling away like schoolboys at the back.

“I’m very worried…” Arthur said as he took a bite of cereal.

Within ten minutes everyone downed their coffee anticipating they would be needing it before they all made they way to to the garden of the rented property. To everyone despair an obstacle course was waiting for them. There was a net on the floor which they needed to crawl through to get to a wall climb, somehow get over that and then run the length of the garden which was about 25 minutes before getting an egg and a spoon they needed to run back with balancing the spoon and egg with their cuffed hands and over the finish line.

“This is fucking stupid area,” Chip grumbled causing everyone to smile and nod in agreement.

“The winner will get and extra ten minutes tomorrow morning and the losers have a horrible forfeit to do,” Simon advised everyone. Florence turned to George, her game face was well and truly on.

“Okay no matter what has happened if we have any chance of doing this we’re going to have to work together,” Florence looked at George with grit, determination, the type of fight she needed to have all throughout her life. George nodded slowly as he looked in her green eyes, he was beginning to understand her a little bit more. She was determined, she worked hard she thought things through, that’s why she had done so well that’s why she was in all of these videos he knew because he was exactly the same. There was still something he couldn’t shake, why was she like this? What was her story?

“Let’s do this,” George nodded and lifted his hand out for a shake. Florence took it tentatively handling it lightly as they shook, her hand feeling incredibly cold as he dropped his arm.

 “We’ll have to match each other down the net, you make your arm movements as big as possible I’ll try and keep mine slightly smaller. Same with the wall, we’ll just go one rung at a time.”

“You climb don’t you? I do too so hopefully it wont be too bad,” Florence said trying to ignore George’s hair blowing in the wind, it looked effortlessly good.

“I do. That’s good to know that could be our advantage point.”

“COME ON YOU TWO!” Ethan’s voice boomed from the other side of the garden. George and Florence went over and lined up next to the others. Theo and Cal were both jumping up and down in order to warm up, the latter warning the former about his hip and Chip had his hands on Arthur’s shoulders giving him a pep talk.

“Okay are you ready?” Simon asked all six contestants who gave a more enthusiastic response of YES and LETS GO.

“Three, two, one, GO!” Simon blew his whistle and it started. Typically Theo and Cal raced through the net as the tallest pair. Florence and George were sticking to their plan and as such were making steady progress, Chip and Arthur were both a disaster, Chip kept getting his foot caught in the net and both were bumping their elbows in each other’s faces.

The wall was next and George and Florence’s hobby really helped, George was impressed at the speed Florence was going but they still stuck to their one rung at a time rule to keep them on an even playing field, they were just very rapid. This was where Cal and Theo got stuck, Theo tried to pull himself up faster than Cal could, leading to their cuffed hands being dragged forcing Cal to lose his entire grip on the wall.

George and Florence were ahead, the run was a bit difficult as George was a little too fast and there was some pulling on his part but Florence managed to not stumble. They got the spoon and egg, Florence with the smaller hand had hers in front and George had his hand behind gripping near the end of the spoon, they tried to match each others steps as best they could. Ignoring all of the commotion and arguing which was going on behind them and purely focusing on what was in front of them.

“Slow and steady wind the race,” Florence muttered to no one in particular as they carefully made their way across the garden and made it to the finish line, Theo and Cal were arguing over their broken egg while Arthur and Chip had still yet to make it up the wall.

Simon gave his whistle three big blows signalling the winners. The race wasn’t over however, the last place pair would have a gruelling forfeit to complete but even at this stage it was impossible to imagine Arthur and Chip not coming last.

“Well congrats, you get more time away from me,” Florence spat before turning to Simon who approached the couple, her face broke out into a smile immediately.

To the surprise of no one Arthur and Chip lost,  their punishment was to cook dinner for everyone else, with their legs shackled as well as their wrists. George and Florence were able to choose when they wanted their twenty minutes of freedom and they had chosen just before dinner as they both wanted to freshen up a little. George has opted to take a shower while Florence simply changed into a grey tracksuit and was watching Arthur and Chip fail to cook some steak and chips.

“Can I ask you something?” Florence asked Arthur sipping her glass of wine on the counter, it was approaching eight o clock and she was starving, the breakfast bar was basically holding up her body weight.

“Go on,” Arthur replied despite being slightly panicked at the sight of the mushrooms.

“Yesterday when you said I had a story, I’m not mad but I was just wondering how much you knew?” She asked. She knew the cameras were on but didn’t much care, she had consumed a glass and a half of wine on an empty stomach, her inhibitions were lowering by the sip.

“No details. Just Chris had said that Esme said you had led an interesting life. You strike me as someone who lived abroad,” Arthur replied. Florence smiled, she knew she could trust Esme which was why she wasn’t mad at all.

“Well she’s right but you’re wrong. Sorry to say you couldn’t be more wrong,” Florence gave a small smile, it was hard to make a joke out of things but it was one of the few ways she knew to try and deal with it.

Arthur was going to open his mouth to ask another question but Harry came bounding in dragging George behind him, cuffs in hand. Little did anyone know George and Harry had their own conversation.

“Five minute warning mate,” Harry told George who was just getting dressed in the room.

“Cool thanks,” George sighed placing his grey T shirt over his head.

“You okay Clarkey? You don’t seem yourself,”

“I’m good, just a hard video,” George mumbled sitting back on the bed.

“You seemed to do well on the obstacle course though,”

“Yeah well an extra few minutes of freedom is welcome,” George laughed a little awkwardly before looking down at his lap.

“Are you seriously saying you don’t like her?”

“Women like her and guys like me aren’t compatible, someone who has it all and just some unfunny trying to make people laugh on tiktok. Let’s get these cuffs back on,” George sighed and walked out of the room, Harry following with small smirk on his face.

“Arthur did your mother never teach you to cook?” Chip complained.

“No, there I was the only boy for years, I never needed to, I know that sounds ridiculously sexist ”

“Don’t you have like twelve siblings?” Harry asked cuffing George and Florence together once more.

“I’m one of nine.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you this before but you do really remind me of my younger brother,” Florence smiled sadly, fiddling with her fingers.

The whole conversation turned into people talking about their families. For the most part Florence just listened and fiddled with her hands, George couldn’t help but notice the unrest for the person sitting next to him.

“You’ve been quiet.” George noted, Florence just nodded.

“Worried people would be jealous of your perfect upbringing.”

“When did you hear I had a perfect upbringing?” Florence asked placing her wine glass down, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her and she didn’t know what to do. George was so good at pressing her buttons she could feel the angry bubbling up inside.

“It’s just your type. Perfect, never been told no.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Florence protested, she sighed as she tried to walk over to the living area to sit down but George pulled her back as he stared her down. Noses almost touching. Florence’s face crinkled.

“No come on. You keep saying I’m all wrong about you and all the rumours are untrue but you’ve never said or done anything to keep people thinking otherwise,” George snapped, his voice low.

“They’re all dead.” Those three words floored George, he let go of her, his face in shock. Hers momentarily going from upset to anger. How dare he, how dare he make her tell a room full of strangers and cameras things she wanted to keep private. If it wasn’t for the metal keeping them together Florence would have ran.

[sillygoofyqueer]

Papa, me want more movie (fish x doctor (Leviathyuan x Mu Qingfang)). /ref /nf

I had a funny response to this yesterday, but then I deleted the entire post accidentally so joke cancelled, let me just tell you about the stupid freaks (affectionate). Okay so Mu Qingfang and Leviathyuan bond first through learning about Leviathyuan's weird ass anatomy, and then through learning about the many different flora and fauna of their world together because Leviathyuan already adores listening to him reading the books that he has in his office, and Mu Qingfang loves talking about his special interests. And learning about Leviathyuan's love of monsters. Also, Leviathyuan has this terrifying method of learning through shoving different plants into his mouth and seeing what happens! This, paired with how he plays with other beasts/monsters (following them around and then getting into roughhousing so violent that even Bai Zhan are horrified when he comes back covered in blood and sporting a slightly manic grin), means that they also learn about how they all affect demons differently! ("there is no agony from that plant..I ate it yesterday" "yeah, but you're a demon, it can affect you differently" "I'm not the only one who ate it!" *cut to Bai Zhan disciples writhing on the floor*) I suppose I moved onto how they fall in love next because my next bullet point here says that Mu Qingfang falls for the needlessly kind and gentle soul who enjoys listening to him, and "LVY falls for THAT ASS!! (and everything else cool, I guess)" See, unlike 'normal, base model' Shen Yuan, Leviathyuan has no qualms with being attracted to men because demon norms and human norms are completely different, so I'm basically giving you a sick as fuck demon who is heavily attracted to men and will deploy any courting methods necessary to get that freakish doctor man! For Leviathyuan, his falling point is watching this always calm but often stressed out man standing up and defending him against a snide sect leader who keeps making horrid accusations towards him. it might be a bit basic, but Mu Qingfang has told him many times that he thinks arguments are pointless and that a structured discussion can make everything so much easier, and then there he is, the first to stand and get ready to verbally (and possibly physically, judging by how he grips the hilt of his sword) decimate this nobody who isn't even worth his time! Of course Leviathyuan wants him carnally, he's a demon! He's seen how demons of the lake courted each other, violence equals affection!! For Mu Qingfang, his falling point is being on a mini, low stakes mission with Leviathyuan and some disciples, and then seeing this demon - someone who actively learns through touch and taste from his time in the dark lake - drag a few disciples away from a dangerous plant after they go to touch them and then start scolding them. This is this something that Mu Qingfang always has to do because most others don't care to educate themselves on plants that don't cause death. Leviathyuan is pushing aside his natural demonic instincts of learning to make sure that these children of a different race don't do something stupid, and his disciples are actually listening to him. GET HIM THE WEDDING ROBES!! (The original post was so much better...I'm so upset.....)

[deeninadream]

First Name Basis (My One Shot from Ao3)

Warnings: Bar setting, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, that’s about it I think, oh and this is my first fic!

Summary:

You go out with the team to wind down after a long week. You planed on only getting one drink...but ended up getting crazy drunk. In the end Hotch has a soft spot for you and you like using his full name. ---- This was going to be a part of my future series, "Necessary, Needed, & Wanted," but I though i just put it up first. Enjoy!

While you decided that a night out with the team, drinking, dancing, and gossiping would be a good way to forget the most recent case, you had certainly not expected to get this drunk.

Derek sat to your right; an arm slung behind you on the sticky booth. Pen sat, or really happy squirmed, to you left. At the beginning of the night, you suggested they sit together, and that you could sit with Spencer.

This was only really because you didn't want to get too crazy tonight, and you had recently read an article you would love to discuss with him. However, they insisted that they squish you in between them to protect you from any guys that came your way.

Dave sat across from you with Hotch on one side, and Spencer on the other. Emily had convinced JJ to go dancing a few minutes ago, but you're sure they'll be back soon.

Now, how did you go from getting a Shirley Temple to getting hysterically drunk? No fucking clue.

So here you are, jumping in between every conversation. Whether it's office gossip, a new scientific discovery, Jack's upcoming birthday party, or why you don’t have someone to go home to at night.

At least that's what it feels like to you, to everyone else though…they're having productive conversations, and you're randomly (and rather cutely) asking not so productive questions.

“Daaaave?!” you ask in a whisper yell. Dave looks over from his talk with Hotch to see you leaning over the table. You’re sure no one else can hear you, though your whisper yell is more at a raspy talking level.

Dave doesn’t even have to raise an eyebrow for you to continue.

“Okay, so obviously I know his middle name from the documents I look at all day loooong. But I can’t find it in me to remember his first name. What is his first name?!”

Now everyone is looking at you, not that you notice. They aren’t surprised you’ve asked such a weird question, but they are definitely intrigued.

Dave chuckled, glad that you’re finally letting loose, ”Who’s first name, darling?”

“Like I know his middle name, right, ‘cause I think it's funny that I’m the only one that can call him out on his shit like that. But it doesn’t work if I don’t know his first name,” you wine a little at the end. Like you’re five and he's not getting you ice cream.

Hotch raised an eyebrow at that, he had never seen you so delirious. He had been around you with barely any sleep for a week once, and you were more put together. Not that he’s complaining.

Now it's Derek's turn to chuckle, "Pretty girl, if you want us to answer you, you have to tell us who you’re talking about.”

You pay no mind to Derek; it's like you had a tunnel going from you to Dave. This just makes everyone laugh. Emily and JJ are coming back around, not that you have any idea.

At that Hotch puts his beer down and leans into your line of sight slightly. Your eyes immediately lock onto his. Everyone’s waiting, knowing that if anyone can get something out of you, it would be Hotch.

“Who are you talking about?” Hotch asked, surprisingly also wanting the answer.

You just stare into his eyes. If you weren't already unaware of your surroundings, you certainly aren't now.

Pen sees an opportunity to chime in, "Are you talking about that hot guy from budgeting?”

Your head snaps up, and directly to Pen’s,” OH MY GOD! Pen, please tell me I didn't say he is hot! I’m not supposed to say that!!” you wined, looking frantic and mortified.

Emily chuckled next to JJ at their chairs at the very end of the booth they now occupy, "Okay, are we talking about the mystery man, or the budgeting one?”

“I thought they were the same person?” JJ jumps in, though she's still looking at Emily. Spencer nodded his agreement with furrowed brows.

You now look towards the couple, seemingly forgetting about your momentary outburst after a sip of your drink.

“Mystery man," you say with a nod of finality, "Also ‘mystery man’? He’s your boss, Emily. How could you forget his name…? Oh wait, that's what I was asking. Dave, what's Hotch's first name?”

At that, everyone at the table excluding you and Hotch burst into a laughing fit. After a few moments of everyone trying to catch their breaths, and you looking around the table for some clue on what is so funny, Dave speaks first.

“Hotch’s first name is Aaron, you know this,” Dave helps you out, as if Hotch wasn’t sitting next to him.

“AARON BENJAMIN HOTCHNER!!” you take a small sip of your drink, "Thank you! I will be using that every chance I get!” Now your drink and pointer finger is aimed at Hotch.

Hotch looks at you with wide eyes and then smiles a smile that only seems to be for you. He then shakes his head, reaches across the table to pluck your glass from your hands.

You look up at him with a pout, ”Hey! I will use your middle name again!”

He just lightly chuckles and slides out of his side of the booth, "I don’t doubt you. Come on. Let's get you home.”

“But, but, but…” he just gives you one of his signature Hotch stares,” Oh, okay. Goodbye everyone! Mwah, mwah, mwah! I'll see y'all on Monday.”

Everyone says their respective goodbyes as Hotch helps you out of the booth. As you stand up, you trip a bit due to your heels, and your uncoordinated state. Hotch quickly catches you, putting an arm around your waist.

After standing fully up, you put your arms up in the air, and yell loud enough to be heard above the music, "AARON BENJAMIN HOTCHNER, EVERYONE!!”

Your group and most of the people around you laugh. Hotch shakes his head and starts to lead you out of the bar.

When you finally step out into the cold air, you look up into those coffee eyes. They tell you that while you may just be on a first name basis, there's a lot more than that for both of you.

Guess getting a little crazy doesn't have to be such a bad thing.

Notes:

Hope y'all liked this! I'm new to this and would love to know what you think!

[acynicalsweetheart]

daisuke nonconing reader omg >.<

HERIKUTSU BOY !

pairing: daisuke x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

dead dove do not eat: 18+, smut, non-con/rape, drug use, weed, virginity loss accompanied by blood, teeny mention of non-sexual vomit at the end

author's note: hai sorry it took so long. first time ever writing for daisuke.. don’t quite think i nailed his characterisation but whatever. hope it’s not too ass. title from jun togawa hopefully got it right this time LOL. any interaction/feedback appreciated as always!!

“What about…” Daisuke scratches his chin thoughtfully, trying to come up with something that’ll impress you enough to let him get into your pants. “Is your dad a terrorist?”

You blink. Once. Twice. High as a kite. 

“‘Cause that ass is the bomb!” 

“That’s cringe.” You say totally unimpressed, rolling your bloodshot and half-lidded eyes at him, reaching over to take another hit of the bong. 

His dick is literally hard from how much effort he put into that pick-up line. And your boobs. And your really short shorts. And your pink panties that are peeking out of your really short shorts. 

Daisuke is just tryna get some, man. You’re so stubborn. Not even a crumb of pity sex. Not even a blowjob! The only thing he’s gonna walk away with is a tummy ache and a mouth drier than the Sahara desert, isn’t it? 

“Hey, you’re cringe! That was actually good. You… thought it was good, right?” Jeez, he hates how fucking high his voice goes when he raises it. Sounds so boyish. No wonder you don’t want him. 

You keep lighting the bong to take hit after hit, it’s like you think he’s annoying or something. You totally think he’s annoying. 

Daisuke would take more hits of the bong himself if he had the balls to. But he fears he’d cum in his pants placing his lips where you just had yours. Like, that would basically be equal to kissing. 

“Okay, fine.” Daisuke wipes his clammy palms on his jeans, heart falling out of his ass at the thought of you noticing the dark hand-shaped marks so he hides them with his hibiscus shirt. “How about this, it’s a new one this time.” Something less controversial, more… straightforward. Girls like that.

Blowing the smoke right in his face—when you should be blowing him—you speak slowly and flatly. “I really don’t care.” 

“Shut up, shut up—just listen…” he waves it off, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the piss-flavored Monster Energy as liquid courage. “Are you a light switch?”

Speaking before you can say no, Daisuke drops the bombshell. “Because you really turn me on.”

Oh my God. You definitely think he’s fruity. Should he take off his shirt? Okay, no, might make you think he’s trying to seduce you. Which he is. But subtlety is the best way to go, according to that one podcast. 

“Haha! Ha… Get it?” Daisuke scratches his neck nervously, petting the spiky ends of his hair in a failed attempt to comfort himself. 

…

“You turn me on?” He shrugs, palms upward like he’s trying to lift off the awkwardness weighing his shoulders down. 

“Daisuke, I’m not gonna sleep with you.” You tell him honestly, lighting the bong for the millionth time. 

At least give him credit for trying. 

“Why? You’re not a virgin.” He thinks? You’re like really freaking hot, no way you’ve never let anyone hit. “Or are you?” Daisuke wiggles his brows at you. Jokingly. He might have to die if you think he’d do that seriously. 

(He was doing it seriously.)

“No—“ you sputter, failing to exhale the smoke ‘cause you’re nearly choking on it. 

“I see what this is,” he grins, thinks he feels his balls grow ‘cause of the testosterone boost he just got. Actually might’ve been adrenaline. Uh, the sex hormone? Confidence? Whatever. “You’re scared because you’re a virgin.” Says Daisuke, who has gotten exactly zero bitches in his entire life. 

“I’m not! You are!” You’re so high you can’t even snap at him properly. Replying with a half-assed, “fuck you.”

“Yeah?” 

“No.” You groan, face palming. 

“Aw.” Daisuke pouts, about to take another swig of his energy drink that he’s pretending is beer when you absolutely keel over. Like a vase off a counter. “Woah!”

Can’t tell what, but you’re mumbling something. He hopes it’s related to banging him. A guy can dream. 

“Are you… okay?” Hands gripping your shoulders to hold you up, Daisuke tries to get a look at your face to tell what’s going on. You kind of look dead, like really fucking high and dead. 

“Mmm…” 

And sleepy. And… sexy. The straps of your tank top are falling down. Thank God for gravity. And boobs. Daisuke lays you down on the floor carefully. Props up a pillow behind your head for comfort. From where he’s sitting he can see everything. 

He’s totally staring at your crotch. 

“Sorry, I…” it’s like your pussy is made out of steel and Daisuke is a magnet. Like a fucking pervert, a trickle of drool forms at the corner of his mouth. Goodbye weed mouth, at least? “You’re… hot. I think you’re hot.” 

Did he just say that out loud? What the fuck, man? Is he on drugs? Shut up, Daisuke. 

“You don’t say.” He thinks you’re being sarcastic. 

“Well, uh,” he swallows the horny lump in his throat, “you’re gonna be alright, aren’t you? I mean, you’re not gonna… die or anything?” Please don’t die before he gets to tap that ass. 

“Nooo,” you glare at the ceiling. 

“Cool! So, then… you wouldn’t mind if I… you know.” Daisuke rolls his fingers, gesturing like a fucking clown and you can’t even see him. “Yeah, that’s, um…”

Your eyes flutter shut, cuddling the side of your face into his pillow. 

The very same pillow he sleeps on every night. Daisuke is so turned on he thinks he might spontaneously combust into pieces. Well, not entirely spontaneously, more so out of plain arousal. “Just… go to sleep. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

…

“Okay, alright, sure,” he says to no one in particular, pumping his fists like it’ll give him the confidence to see this through. “Let’s… let’s do this.”

Shrugging off his button-up, he takes a few deep breaths. With shaky hands, he pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his baggy jeans that are only growing tighter ‘cause Daisuke is only growing harder by the minute. 

“I wanted to do this on my bed but… ya know.” He pulls the zipper down, sneaking glances at you and your nipples and your lips peeking out of your panties under your shorts. “I don’t really lift, heh.”

He thinks he hears you groan again. Like, a please-shut-the-fuck-up groan, not a sexy one.

“Not—not that you’re heavy or anything! God, no, I just… forget it.” See, this is why you should’ve just said yes. Could’ve spared Daisuke the embarrassment if you were kissing him right now. “It’s me, okay? I’m the one who doesn’t lift, totally my bad, uh—but you know, I play baseball so—“

“Sorry.” Daisuke looks down at the bulge and the huge dark spot on his red boxers. “I’ll shut up.”

Running his hand through his hair like it’ll alleviate his humiliation, Daisuke very carefully pulls down your tank top. Till your breasts show anyway. Man… he needs to suck those things like a fucking baby. What?

Your face is still relatively peaceful, he concludes from the frantic glances he shoots it every couple seconds. 

Next up are your shorts, takes a good struggle to get them off from how tight they’re clinging to your body. If Daisuke didn’t know any better he would have said you got them a size too small on purpose just to tease him. But he is pretty sure you hate his guts. 

Pink. Pink panties. So soft. He thinks he’s going to cum just from feeling the fucking fabric. 

Nevermind that, ‘cause Christ Almighty is your pussy perfect. 

“Wow!” He exclaims much too loud for somebody who just promised to stay quiet. Clearing his throat, Daisuke settles for a calmer, manlier: “I mean, wow.”

“Can I…” that puss has to be frickin’ magical. It’s got him under a spell for sure, “you don’t think I could have a taste, do you?”

…

“Right. Sorry.” Forgot you’re fucking asleep. Or passed out. Unconscious? Whatever’s going on. 

You’re not very wet. Damn. You really aren’t into Daisuke after all. He was hoping they were just those like, anxiety ridden thoughts that everybody gets sometimes. Wait. Everybody gets those, right? 

Right?

He wets his fucking chopstick fingers with his spit, very carefully rubbing at your pussy ‘cause he’s scared to hurt her. You whimper when he circles the bud peeking out, some of your own slickness starting to drool out of your slit. 

Daisuke’s dick twitches like it’s having a seizure, like it will physically power off forever unless he sticks it inside of you right now. 

“Oh my God.” Collecting your… pussy drool and staring at it in awe of its shininess—the fact that Daisuke is the one that induced this—he’s gotta hurry. “Sorry, I have to—I don’t wanna…” 

He has to fuck you because he doesn’t wanna cum in his underwear. It’s a miracle and a mystery how it hasn’t happened yet. 

“Okay,” Daisuke tastes your slick on his fingertips, unable to not moan at the flavor. Thankfully you’re still… you know. Not really there. So he pulls down his boxers, letting his harder-than-a-diamond dick spring free. 

It’s like, fucking leaking at the tip. 

Spreading your legs and wrapping them around his hips (which doesn’t exactly work ‘cause of how slack they are), half-failing to wrap your limp arms around his neck, Daisuke positions himself above you—bracing himself with his arm next to your head. 

You’re breathing out slow puffs of air onto his cheek as he jerks himself a handful of times before lining up with your hole. Daisuke can’t tell if it’s him or you that’s dripping fucking wet. Probably him. His cherry is so long overdue to be popped that it’s actually embarrassing. Virginity does in fact, not rock. 

After a few thrusts, Daisuke sinks inside and your walls grip his dick tighter than his fist at night, sucking him in eagerly like a vacuum cleaner. So… were you just playing hard to get all along? Your pussy is so warm he might be getting second degree burns. “Oh, yeah.”

He’s going to fucking bust.

Kind of hard to feel bad for you when you’re this pretty, when your cunt is this wet, and when Daisuke is this horny. He humps you like a dog, gasps and pants spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. Burying his face in your neck, Daisuke gets a whiff of your perfume. 

You let out these mumbles that are kind of sounding like moans. Daisuke chuckles a little, biting and sucking on your neck till it bruises. ‘Cause it’s… hot. Also ‘cause he doesn’t want you to hear how loud he’s moaning himself. “This—this shit is fucking awesome. You’re awesome.”

And he’s close. 

Daisuke’s forearms are stinging with pins and needles ‘cause he’s essentially holding a plank above you, moving his hips and fuck all. Shit’s like a work-out. But his body moves like it’s on autopilot. Gives him this sort of understanding for dad now, for how Daisuke himself was made. A sexy damn mistake. 

Oh, boy, he’s fucking cumming. 

“Fuck,“ he hugs you closer, plowing into you harder—hitting some spongy spot inside of you. Turning him dizzy from the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. So loud Daisuke can’t even hear himself moaning like a fucking female pornstar taking the biggest dick of her life, “oh, babe.”

(He wishes you were his babe.)

Balls tightening, Daisuke tenses up and cums with a groan, shooting thick spurts deep inside you. Painting your walls white for days. Your pussy’s gripping onto him for dear life. You may not want him back but your pussy sure does. Fuck, man. 

Bestest fucking release he’s ever had. Cleansed his soul by jizzing that hard. Like, opened his chakras and all that jazz. Jizz and jazz? Daisuke should totally be a comedian. 

You have to let him do this more often. Daisuke and you could go at it like, every day! Several times, too. Man, imagine the sheer abs he would get. Baseball don’t do that. He just gets these small lumps on his arms that are supposed to resemble muscles, but don’t show enough ‘cause he’s got a big-ass nasty sweet tooth. Not you this time, but actual sweets. So they’re sort of… soft. In a very not-manly way. 

Daisuke pulls out, freezing up like time’s paused. 

“Holy shit!” He looks down at the blood caked on his dick. Coating it like the condom he probably should’ve worn. Reddish-pink thick cream dripping out of your slit. “Are you on your period?” Idiot. “Or did I… did I hurt you? I mean, I don’t think I’m that big.”

…

“Sorry,” Daisuke grabs at his head, runs his hand through his hair, runs his hand over his face damp with sweat, “sorry, I just… holy shit.” He covers his mouth. Can’t take his eyes off his softening, bloody dick. 

“You really…” he feels fucking sick, forcing the bile building up in his throat back down with a dry swallow. “You really were a virgin, huh?” Thought Daisuke was the only one a virgin at his age. It’s somehow not comforting at all. 

Unless… 

“Or waitwaitwait—uh, cough once for yes and twice for no.” A beat. A sniffle? Was that him or you? “To the virgin question.”

Fucking idiot. Why would you cough? You can’t even speak! Like, can you even breathe? Oh, man, what if he killed you!? Okay, you’re still breathing. Still got a pulse. Thank God. Shit. Thought he was boutta land his ass in jail for a second. 

“I’m sorry.” Daisuke regrets not taking more hits of the bong when he had the opportunity to, ‘cause his mouth is overflowing with spit. He knows what’s coming. And it’s not a hangover one. “I didn’t—I didn’t—mean to—I didn’t know.” Heaving like he’s being strangled. Hiccups cutting off his every word. 

You whine like an old, creaky door. Tossing and turning with the subtlety of a professional assassin. What if you were awake all along? What if you were just… pretending to be asleep? ‘Cause you didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he—that Daisuke… he can’t do this. 

“Did it hurt?” Daisuke’s blood is so cold he could very well get diagnosed with hypothermia if he went to the doctor. Stomach clenching and churning but he’s not hungry. He’s fucking sick. “Sorry… I’m really sorry.” 

Tucking his dick back into his boxers ‘cause he can’t stand the sight of it anymore, he throws himself off of you. Stumbling as he stands up on his feet, knocking over the bong in the process. You’re just laying there like a fucking ragdoll. A used and abused ragdoll. With Daisuke’s cum and your own blood pouring out of you. 

“Listen, I’ll get some painkillers and—“ shit’s fucking forcing itself up his esophagus as he speaks. It burns like lava straight from the devil’s ass. He has to fucking bail. “And… I’ll stay here till you wake up, okay?” Now. 

He doesn’t even make it to the bathroom, doesn’t reach the toilet before he fucking pukes. Bucketloads of acidy, watery yet somehow chunky shit just… falling out. All over himself. On the floor. On the toilet seat. On the carpet. 

It’s probably whatever blend of colors of his recent meal, but all Daisuke can see is your blood. Your blood and his cum coming out of his mouth. Laying there. Shit fucking moves, painting itself into your sleeping face. 

Daisuke is going to hell. 

[gorgiawrite]

Missing scene, Black Sails XI.

I have undertaken a huge project. It's going to be title Unmoored, and while I plan to diverge vastly from canon after the events in Charles Town, I will, for the events before that, connect the story through what are essentially missing scenes. My goal is to develop the side characters while constructing my alternate version of the story.

But this is the first time I actually intent to publish something, and I am very wary of my capacity to detect mistakes and wether the text flow well enough or not. So I would love to have your opinion (as many as can be), and I just happen to have written a scene I really enjoyed thinking of : Silver and the crew of the Walrus, the night after they came to Nassau from the wreck of the Urca de Lima.

For context : the crew just took the Man O' War after wrecking on the Urca beach, Dufresne tried and failed a boarding which lost him his short lived captaincy, and Flint is pissed that Vane has the Fort once he arrives at Nassau. Silver, who has managed to regain his place on the crew, decides to act to remove Dufresne as quartermaster before they go back for the gold...

That night, on the weather deck of the Man O’ War, men drank their meagre ration of rum while Silver waited for his opening. As they sat in a big circle, discussions of the Fort went on in the dark and died slowly into contemplative silence. It was time, it seemed, for him to create his own luck.

“Anyone seen Bobby? I just remembered the fucker owe me coin.”

Like one man, the crew turned to him with some sort of growing angry horror.

“He died in the wreck you caused”, Dooley growled.

“Oh,” Silver feigned surprise and sorrow, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Then he froze, confused :

"Although… I don’t think it is true I am to blame.”

"The fuck it isn’t,” snarled Muldoon, “you’re the one who got us into that battle.”

“Did I ? Because I remember clearly a Man O’ War, fully armed, many glasses pointed at us and…” he slowed down, his pitch lowering, "Mr Dufresne, interrupting a plan that was well underway - successfully so, I might add - and shooting a pistol on deck after a rather loud speech that dragged our crew above board, when it was critical we stayed hidden. That which Captain Flint ordered, if I remember correctly.”

After a deep breath, letting his gaze sweep over the men around him, he concluded :

“Me lighting that cannon only came to pass once our ship had very clearly made itself a target. The Man O’ War had even the time to come about and give us its broadside!”

Of course it did so for the Ranger opposite to them, but would they remember?

“Had I only managed to be quicker…” Silver sighed regretfully.

“It still wouldn’t have happened if Flint didn’t do what he did to Mr Gates,” someone behind him lamented.

“Oh,” Silver sniffed ruefully,  “I know. And I’m the one who found him, still holding his body. Did I not tell you?” he quickly added, as stricken faces turned toward him.

“Oh… I was furious at him. Not for the deed - it was a great tragedy, absolutely - but for the immobility. Here we were, at the dawn of something extraordinary, and there he laid grasping Gates’ body, struck frozen by the act he committed. An act he knew to be necessary,” he growled.

“As he should have!” exploded De Groot, “he murdered the man. A good man.”

“A good man…” Silver let his eyes go afar, “yes, he was, wasn’t he?”

Slowly, feeling the attention of his captivated audience like a physical weight, Silver rubbed a hand along his jaw.

“How unfortunate it is, that good men can never be great. God,” he smiled miserably at the crew, looking at them one by one, “but I wish Flint was good. I would have a kinder fate then, maybe. Instead, I am bound to a great man. A great terrible monster of a man who can make an island tremble and bring mountains of gold to wreck on deserted shores… Now I have to follow his ambitions, his constant intent toward more,” Silver nodded thoughtfully, “Mr Gates was a good man. He would have had us give up : the Urca de Lima left an idea, a story, and as we would all have safely returned to Nassau, to suffer another endless series of fights until we each of us end… Spain would have retaken its gold, while we stayed ignorant of the greatness that could have befallen us.”

The silence that followed was almost tangible as the crew pondered over his words… Even Mr De Groot, who still looked angry, had an new air to him : he could not help himself but recognize the truth in this. Silver was certain of it. Now the men were wondering if they would have preferred that fate, when they knew already they had survived the other : the one with the gold at the end.

“Why didn’t Dufresne wait until we were done fighting the Man O’ War to read that fucking letter?” asked Logan.

Silver could have kissed him.

“Fuck Flint for what he did to Gates,” the armourer carried on getting worked up as he did, “and for not trusting us with the truth, but that was really fucking stupid, wasn’t it? I mean, the Spanish were chasing the Ranger. I sent the signal in time, they didn’t see it. They did believe you," he gestured to Silver “they were gonna be caught between our guns, and now we know they didn’t even have enough crew on board to man all theirs! If we had them by surprise...”

“Well,” offered Mr Howell, “the merchant ship we failed to board spectacularly gives a hint of an answer. Mr Dufresne might not be as intelligent as we gave him credit.”

“It’s the glasses, I say,” one voice in the back commented.

“But it’s worse than that, right?” said Muldoon, gesturing with his hand, “he liked it, didn’t he? Strutting around all captain like. Only after a single fight. That’s how he got us, isn’t it? Cause he got his cherry popped on the Andromache and couldn’t feel himself!”

“Well I didn’t vote for him,” said Dooley.

“Jesus, what a fucking waste. Five men died on that merchant ship. And nothing to show for it.”

The defeated statement uttered by Logan offered a lull in the agitation. Silver, sitting still, breathed in the tension around him.

“Mr Gates wouldn’t have done it like that,” Joshua’s voice broke the silence after a while, saddened, “he wrote this letter for us. To protect us if Flint went too far.”

“You don’t think killing Hal was going too far?" asked De Groot.

“Killing Mr Gates didn’t risk our lives,” Joshua replied, “I don’t agree to Captain Flint doing that, but-”

“But sometimes,” Silver took over, feeling it was time for him to say what they would not admit “the things we do to protect our children can be quite despicable.”

He let the men, sitting brooding in circle, meld in their mind the images of two fathers : one kindly, who loved them and another harsh, who raised them. 

“Well,” Dooley attempted with a surprisingly solemn tone, “now, it’s behind us.”

“Except it’s not, is it?” retorted Muldoon, frustrated, “Dufresne is quartermaster. And we’re going back for that gold, which is protected by well over a hundred Spaniard. “

He threw pointed looks toward his brothers :

“That’s not gonna be an easy fight.”

“You believe he’ll compromise the retrieval?” inquired Mr De Groot.

“He made it clear he hates Flint's guts. And we know his plans are no good, so whatever he decides to argue with the Captain will probably be of no use, or might even lead us to do something stupid or dangerous at times we might be better off obeying our orders.”

Silver, fighting with all his might to repress his smile, watched as every head on that deck turned to the Lion, floating nearby with Dufresne, an invited guest, in its belly.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Do you think Louis has Stockholm Syndrome?

I mean I want to say no, because I think this isn’t really the appropriate use/meaning of Stockholm Syndrome, but I’m not trying to be pedantic about it and I understand what you’re asking LOL. 

Being completely transparent with you here, I’m not into Loustat so I don’t have the most generous opinion of them sdgka and this is one of the areas of VC where I feel really critical of the way Anne Rice wrote it in the second half of the series. And not like in a pearl clutchy way like wAHEEHHHH DONT ROMANTICIZE IIT but in like a “please show Louis some respect as a character because he would be so much more interesting if you allowed him to have a personality and to stand up to lestat” 🥸🥸🥸

But really I think like, especially in the IWTV era, it’s just a pretty straightforward unhappy and abusive marriage. I think we could even use the term “trauma bond” to describe the way Louis loves Lestat (at least back then) but there’s something to be said about like, any of the ways in which Louis had loved Lestat anyway, which he didn’t openly admit to in the book. It always begs the question of which came first—the love which then allowed him to stick around and be patient through all the bullshit, or the trauma which then subliminally caused him to become attached?

Something I think people don’t always understand about abusive relationships is that you don’t usually fall in love with someone who treats you like shit from the beginning. You love them for other reasons and then stay around after their masks come off, or after they deteriorate for whatever the reason. You stick around for the sunk cost fallacy, because there’s potential in there somewhere and you stay in love with the idea you have of who the person is and who you wish they were. 

With Louis, we have to READ BETWEEN THE LINES as Lestat says, like. The Loustat shippers have discussed to death that Louis was a repressed homosexual and so like there must have been attraction there and there must have been SOMETHING. But Louis’s story and character is so dictated by Catholicism and penance that his commitment to immortality as a means to punish himself also treats the symbolic marriage to Lestat as a curse. 

We’ve also discussed to death in fandom for decades like, what’s the most true version of events and which of the two of them are being more truthful? I’ve always sort of taken Louis’s side, because there’s some sort of objective things Lestat did (like turning a 5 year old 😂) that are undeniable, were witnessed by others, and which really tell us a lot about the person Lestat is. But I think Louis can tell us an objective series of events and still be dishonest about his own culpability or his own sincere feelings of love. 

So like I think, as fans, there’s a few version of the story that you can pick at. I tend to read IWTV as a story about a man moving from abusive relationship to abusive relationship, and I read the New Orleans era as an abusive marriage, but whatever love was there doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a trauma bond. 

Lestat keeps him trapped by withholding information, and then babytraps him with Claudia. There are times where Louis worries for Claudia’s safety. Louis definitely stays, at least at times, out of fear. 

But I do always wonder how much love was actually there. It sneaks out from time to time. And like, does Louis reallllllly give a shit, like could he have left if he really wanted to? Maybe. I wonder a lot, too, about how close they actually were during their marriage — we know that Louis never drank another vampire’s blood at least until Merrick, so their marriage was essentially sexless, unless Lestat drank from Louis while Louis just lied there waiting for it to be over. Who the fuck knows lol. 

Ultimately VC is a series about loving and being loved, like love and forgiveness is the ultimate virtue in this universe, and it makes sense as part of the sort of Catholicky world building. Deeply faithful Anne Rice WOULD think that forgiveness is the most divine option. So no matter how ugly someone's past is, they can usually find peace eventually. Louis and Lestat have an extremely ugly first marriage, but when Lestat is in danger in the 1980’s Louis is able to put it behind him and be there and they can try to work through it.

There’s something that shows up in VC about like, even contentious relationships can be so special if it’s someone who’s always been there. (Thinking about Marius & Mael or Lestat & Armand.) So no matter how unhappy they were or how badly Lestat was behaving in IWTV, Louis can soften to him by way of “you are the only constant in my whole wretched cursed immortal life.” 

So like, again we have to ask which came first: the trauma bond or the genuine love? And I’m not a Loustat fucker so I can’t really answer that. I could see either version existing, for whatever reason you need to build the case today. If it’s for meta or for a fic or whatever, there’s not just one single way to approach. 

Either way, where both paths converge is that the second half of the story is so much about grieving an abuser and how complicated it is. Louis feels guilt for how everything went down, but he’s also grieving. And when you grieve an abuser it’s like what I said earlier—sometimes it’s more about the version of them that you wished you’d had. Louis grieves a version of Lestat, and that feeds into the guilt! It’s a snowball! And it’s easy, when you’re away from the abuse, to remember the good things! Louis’s guilt will eat him alive because he remembers all the good things about Lestat, and all the things he could have been!! And it’s hard to make sense of it!  It's also the religious & forgiveness thing that in death your slate is wiped clean, so perhaps in death Lestat has paid for his sins.

It’s really such a poignant book about grief and abuse to me! It even repeats with Claudia—she frees him from Lestat, but becomes cold and abusive herself. He’s miserable with her, and he fears her, and yet the moment she’s gone he reverts to thinking of her as his little daughter that he’s lost.

Anyway.

I’m not sure if this is the answer you were looking for LMAO. Asking me, famously a Lestat Hater, if I think Lestat was a fucking douchebag during their relationship—yes of course!!!! But I recognize that we can frame IWTV in a few different ways to fine tune these points. 

Admittedly, it’s not my area of expertise within VC LOL but this is my reading of it as a layperson!!! 

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Bojack Lays It Down Flat On Stolas

I think a lot of people have made comparisons between Stolas and Bojack for good reasons because both are assholes who keep using their tragic backstories to absolve themselves of their actions and keep repeating the same mistake that makes people alienate themselves from them. The difference is the narrative knows Bojack is wrong and makes him pay for his mistakes, while Stolas is constantly babied and treated as tragic going through everything. I can imagine if Stolas befriended Bojack he would at first side with him and let him crash at whatever new place he managed to get but soon realizes what an ungrateful, whiny privileged asshole he is.

This would be post series Bojack where he's lost his reputation and had many friends distance him and just had Mr. Peanutbutter backing him. However, I could see him after a season worth of dealing with him telling him the ugly truth about what type of person he is and wouldn't sugarcoat it. It would also come out because Bojack realizes he's not so different from Stolas and hates it. He really doesn't want the bird in his life, especially if he can't admit he's a pos.

______________________________________________________________

Bojack: You know when I first let you crash here I thought it was because life treated you like crap and you needed someone to help you, but now I realize that it's only because your actions led you to this.

Stolas: What are you saying? You can go blaming what that harpy of an ex-wife and her brother did to me on myself.

Bojack: I can say you allowed yourself to be stripped of your powers because you valued dying for your boy toy rather than living for your kid.

Stolas: But I had no choice he would have died if I hadn't of done anything.

Bojack: You still broke your promise to never leave her and caused her stay in your ex's and brother in law's clutches. And this all started because you had to get your dick wet instead of actually being man enough to divorce. Dude, if you really cared about your daughter you would have long left your wife instead of staying together so you can stroke your martyr complex.

Stolas: Don't judge me I tried the best I could for that girl all these years.

Bojack: If that's what you called trying I hate to see what you do when you don't give a damn.

Stolas: Shut up and give me more absinthe.

Bojack: Also dude get a job and buy your own groceries. I am tired of cooking and getting booze for a pompous brat like you. In fact, I just want you to get the fuck out of here and you can wallow in your own issues because it's not my responsibility to give a hoot about you.

[badassxbirdy]

Matt. Poor fucking Matt… “Whose first pick was he? Or is this just more of your cryptic bullshit?” If he didn’t last long… well, to be honest she can’t decide if that outcome was better or worse than the alternative. A question occurs to her then, something that she hasn’t given enough thought to before. “Why Lance? You had a whole crew of people to— why him?”

His shins really hurt, you know.

Her expression finally falters, just for a moment, but it’s too obvious to hide. It’s not because of the way it snarls at her, not it's anger, but the one thing that’ll always give it the upper hand: How scared she is of her friend getting hurt. How scared she is of being the one to cause it.

“Oh, I ‘get it’ just fine. Why else do you think I haven’t evicted your ass? Doesn’t make you any less fucked by the time I’m done. Seems like you’re the one who doesn’t understand yet. For somethin’ so smart, you really are an idiot.”

Despite that brief waver in her glaring, her anger hasn’t faded in the slightest. The cambion is actually smiling a little while she stares at it, letting herself picture all the ways she wants to hurt this thing. She knows oh so many methods of inflicting pain on demons. It’s just a shame she doesn’t have her powers. They would make it so much easier to hurt this thing and not him…

As for the thought of Lance liking his parasite, she is very much in favour of continuing to ignore that, convinced that it’s a fucking lie anyway. Of course Lance is afraid of it, who wouldn’t be? But then there’s that little voice of doubt that reminds her of some of his past comments. That it had saved him. That it had kept him safe. How he’d inadvertently scared her with his talk at the motel, even before the creature inside him had decided to have a little chat with her itself… All things which she shoves to the back of her mind, conveniently ignoring them, just as it said. Lance didn’t enjoy it, he was just scared of what would happen without it. That was all it was. That was all it was. The parasite wasn’t worth listening to.

Its reaction to her anger is unexpected, that sniff far more unsettling than anything else it’s done thus far. She freezes for a moment. It’s so close that she can barely bring herself to breathe, and she’s fairly certain she’ll lose her lunch all over his shirt if she even tries, but that somehow doesn’t stop the little sound of disgust that escapes her. Nor does it stop the shudder that runs up her spine.

Her extremely limited self-control is stretched far beyond its limit. She just barely holds onto it when his head moves lower, but it slips entirely when it twirls her hair. The cambion grabs Lance’s wrist, harshly shoving away his hand.

Beast.

She’d be offended if most people, if most things, said something like that to her. But coming from this asshole? When she’s this angry? Oh, that’s just fine.

“I can think of a few people who’d tell you how much you don’t want to see that. Too bad they’re all too dead to fill you in.”

@dcmcnsinmymind

"No, she did not" it laughed, the gloves off entirely now. "None of them did, you're right" it went on because frankly....it was true. None of them had hit quite the spot. "Well. Dear Matt was the most promising, actually. Was even their first pick. I'm afraid he didn't last very long though. Oh no. I was always all eyes for this."

This being the chest rising and falling far more steadily by now, far more pronounced. Lance, but a minute or so from being back altogether.

"I'm the one that's holding it together, Tyler. That's the detail you still don't seem to quite get, do you?" Azathoth said with a dismissive snort, though the laughing and grinning had gone by now, replaced with something else. That glint in its eye again. "Do you want another showcase? I'm sure if I withdraw right now he'll be quite the show for you still. Though I'm not too fond of another rerun just so you finally get it" it went on, the last bit turning into a sudden and harsh snarl, eyes burning with disgust and rage already. What followed was another short stretch of tense silence, a true staring match by now.

"His shins really hurt, you know. Who knows what he'll bump into next. We don't want that, do we?"

Shortly after, it was back again. Another laugh. Barking, but without the smiling or grinning now. Mad and furious instead, but ending just as abruptly as it had come. Only to be replaced by an almost soft, velvety voice instead. Sounding so pleased with itself. Relishing that truth thoroughly.

"He's not scared of me, Tyler. Add that to the list of many things you chose to ignore - so conveniently I might add. Because that'd only lead up to the next uncomfortable question for you, wouldn't it?....'Why?' Why, oh just why is our dear friend not scared of me? After everything he saw and sees me do, hm?" it asked her, giving her a theatrical pouting face and but a second to answer, followed by a distinct fingerpoint at her.

"And there lies the problem for you, doesn't it? You don't like the answer to that question. The fact that he likes me. Likes it. Enjoys the benefits more than he can bring himself to care about consequences. Just as he always has by the way...way before me" it reminded her with a wink.

When she got right in its face, it met her with another incessant stare and a genuine smirk at last. Lopsided and barely there, but enough to make it clear - just a hint of respect and interest in it. It gave her a long, hard and unblinking look for a good minute or more, only to lean in closer and give her a deep and long sniff.

"You know..." it muttered while moving Lance's head closer and to the other side of her neck, lower still, to her chest. "I think I actually like you like this" Azathoth went on, followed by a sickening little chuckle. "The shivering scared-y cat can only do so much for you" Leaning back a little again so they can be face to face again, it meets her with a wicked grin. "Especially when we both know it's just a mask that hides the beast inside." It starts twirling her hair like the strings of a harp as it bares the teeth it's currently in possession, almost playfully so - if it weren't so grotesque to look at.

"Yessss...I can't wait for you to show me more of your teeth."

[loumandforyou]

Okay but how can a fandom have such talented people but also people that stress the fuck out of me with their hate/takes

[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.

[ananke-xiii]

S9E1 Castiel being freshly human, not understanding a thing of what's going on, fully aware that a.lot. of angels would very much like to kill him just.because meets a random angel on the street (Hael) and he's like: LET'S GO SEE THE GRAND CANYON TOGETHER, WOO-HOOO!

[chewysgummies]

Hot take: Can we just appreciate the fact that they didn't make Buzz light-year a brawler that will actually stay in game after the event ends?

[lights-at-night]

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