* TIKKUN OLAM

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                                   thor ragnarok starters / acc / @veroxins

           you can make absolutely no promises on that front. after all, you do know yourself. chronically heroic and incredibly ambitious. if it meant that you could save people you would probably die, you can already see the path of your future heroism laid out before you. though you know that you’d will yourself alive long enough at least to make sure that one for all was passed down before you finally let the fire that kept your soul running finally burn out.

              still it’s nice to hear. after years of being a dime a dozen extra, a miserable friendless bullied pebble crushed under scorching heel of kacchan’s hand. it’s nice to know that at people actually want you to stay alive and maybe succeed. or maybe your thoughts are wandering because of the concussion. semantics really.

                   he’s not sure why the x does not fit him quite right. the bright yellow spandex covering his chest, feels more out of place than the rest of his look. but he just as not built for the black and red look. he feels out of place here, it’s a school for gifted youngsters, ua’s sister school he’s heard despite how much older it is. honestly he feels himself shaking in his boots a little bit. he doesn’t know anyone here.

  and shouto’s mildly terrified. did he say mildly? he meant overly. here’s something too overt for his mother to have done before - before she left. hannukah candles and whispered shabbat prayers are one thing, but the whole plate, laid out, and a week without bread was too much to go under the eyes of him. she’d told him the story though, in a memory locked deep away, about the exodus and the love of hashem. shouto had often wished for a personal repeat of it. he doesn’t have to anymore. his exodus holds his hand in his own scarred one, making his heart beat too fast.

  “i’ve… um. never done this before.” shouto hopes his voice doesn’t waver too much. he’s not scared. he’s just… nervous. yeah.

                   your familiar near blinding bright smile firmly in it’s usual place on your lips. your gnarled fingers wrap around his, tender and gentle despite the callouses marring your  skin. rubbing the pads of your  thumb over the back of shouto’s hand. you lean up on your toes, it’s a struggle but you get high enough to press a kiss to shouto’s scar. the action had become a familiar one over the course of these past few months. ever since he first pressed your crooked right hand to his scar all those weeks ago.