#nothing you say can make me like him im sorry

[darlingdaisyfarm]

This honestly might be a downer or stupid, but I just got fired and I am having a really hard time. I just want to bury my head in Stan's chest and sob. I was wondering if you could write how the Stan and Ford might react to the reader being suddenly fired and maybe how they'd comfort them? I'm also really excited for the next chapter of your fic!

✧˚⋆ Stan & Ford supporting you when you need it most ⋆｡♡˚

oh sweetheart, im so sorry ur going through this, holy shit. just the moment i received this ask, i knew i had to write smth when ill get free time today, because i feel so sorry for you. i hope these two old men gave u even a tiny bit of comfort, please be kind to urself right now, youre gonna get through this, i promise. sending u all my love !! stay strong please 🫂🫂

STANLEY

the thing about Stan is that he gets it. he gets the feeling of being chewed up and spat out, of having doors slam in your face, of working your ass off and still being told you’re not enough. he gets the quiet humiliation, the bitterness in the back of your throat, the way your hands shake when you try to act like it doesn’t matterm

you don’t even remember how you got here. your feet must’ve carried you through the streets, past strangers whose lives weren’t just ruined, past cars honking, past buildings that still stood while the whole world inside you had collapsed.

“hey, hey. what the hell, sweetheart, breathe, alright? you’re okay, you’re right here.” his rough but worried voice reaches you when you slam mystery shack's door open, standing in the doorway with shaking hands, red-eyed.

“i got fired, Stan. j-just gone, outta nowhere. i don’t know what to do, Stan, im so lost.” your throat burns

before you can say anything else, he's opening his arms. “c'mere.” and you don't even hesitate as you crash into him like a wave, burying your face in his chest. and he holds you, one big arm wrapping around your back, the other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head

“there we go. you don’t gotta keep it all in, sweetheart.” the words hit you harder than you expect. you're so used to holding it together, to swallowing everything down, to being strong. and Stan, who’s built himself up from nothing, who’s taken every punch life threw at him and still kept standing, he’s telling you it’s okay to break.

so you do. you bury your face in his chest and cry until you’re dizzy, until your breath stutters and shakes, until all the anger and hurt and fear bleed out of you. Stanley doesn’t rush you or tell you to stop. “let it out, sweetie, s’gonna be okay.” he holds you close tightly because he’s spent his whole life holding people who needed it more than he did.

“it’s not fair,” you gasp, clutching on his clothes.

“no, it ain’t.”

“i worked so hard.”

“i know.”

“i feel like—like nothing i do is enough—”

Stan tightens his hold, pressing his chin to the top of your head. “hey. you listen to me.” his voice turns serious. “some suit in an office makin’ a crap decision got nothing to do with who you are. they're dumb. absolute morons for lettin’ you go. betcha the whole place is gonna fall apart without you because you were the best thing about that shithole. if they couldn’t see that, then screw ‘em. they lost you. not the other way around.”

you shake your head, clenching your fists. “but—“

“no buts,” he growls and then, softer: “you're not trash just ‘cause some idiots don’t know how to treat their workers. you're not worthless just ‘cause some suits decided you were expendable. you are not nothing.”

Stan pulls back to tip your chin up, making sure you’re listening. his thumb wipes a tear off your cheek. “i mean, you still got me, sweetheart. ain’t no job in the world that could change that.” he smiles genuinely at you.

you close your eyes, giving him a tiny sad smile back. you let yourself breathe, let yourself believe it, hiding your face in his chest again. Stan's grip stays strong and unshaking, shielding you from the whole world as you cry until you’re too tired, so all what you do is sob into his chest. you’re just leaning into him, exhausted, letting him hold you up.

Stan sighs, resting his cheek against your hair. “ya ever heard the story of the biggest screw-up in New Jersey?”

you sniffle. “what?”

”lemme tell ya, kid grows up in a house that don’t want him. gets kicked out. loses every job he ever had. ends up in a broken-down shack in the middle of nowhere. total loser.”

you shift against him. “Stan—“

“but he keeps goin’. and somehow, somehow, that dumbass loser ends up with people who love him. ends up holdin’ someone who needs it. ends up tellin’ the best damn person he’s ever met that they’re gonna be okay.”

he lets you lean into him again, lets you breathe him in, lets you stay as long as you need. tells you stories about all the bosses he’s scammed just to make you laugh.

at some point, when the tears have slowed and the weight in your chest isn’t crushing anymore, Stan ruffles your hair and leans back, arms crossed.

“y’know, i could use an extra set of hands around the shack.“

you blink up at him, sniffing. “what? you. . .you want me to work here?”

“yeah, id rather have someone i actually like workin’ here instead of hiring some random kid who’s just gonna rob me blind.” his usual gruff tone is back, but his gaze is what speaks louder, soft and certain, making it obvious that you belong here.

you open your mouth, but he cuts in, pointing a finger at you. “and before ya say some crap about not bein’ good enough or whatever, shut up. i’m the boss, i decide who’s good enough, and i say it’s you.”

you let out a shaky laugh, wiping your nose. “wow, such a heartfelt offer.”

he smirks. “hey, that’s as heartfelt as it gets, sweetheart. but seriously. think about it, okay? i got a spot for ya.” Stanley is not just offering a job for you, he’s offering a place, a place where you’re wanted, where you’re needed, where you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.

you take a deep breath, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “yeah. yeah, i’ll think about it.”

“good,” Stan smiles and ruffles your hair again. “now, wanna eat somethin’? watch a dumb movie? beat me at cards? or you want me to egg their car?” about the last thing, he's joking, probably. but if you say yes, you know he’ll do it.

STANFORD

Ford finds you sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed on the surface, face buried in them. you haven’t moved and spoken in a while, just sat there, motionless, like a puppet with the strings cut.

he clears his throat, stepping closer. “i, ah. noticed you didn’t come in for dinner.”

you don’t respond. his brows knit together, concern creasing his forehead. he takes the seat across from you, folding his hands on the table. “would you like to talk about it?”

for a moment, nothing. then, muffled: “i got fired.” slips from your mouth. so that's what happened. Ford doesn’t say oh. doesn’t say im sorry. doesn’t say what happened? he understands you because Ford Pines knows what it is to be discarded. he knows what it is to dedicate yourself to something, only to be told you are wrong. to be shoved out, unmoored, drifting in the space between who you thought you were and who they’ve decided you are now.

he knows what it is to look down at his hands and wonder if they are still meant to build something. after being betrayed.

he frowns thoughtfully. “that was. . . rather sudden, wasn’t it?”

you nod weakly. Ford exhales through his nose, gaze sharpening, analyzing. you. your sadness. the whole situation.

“it must feel unfair.“ he doesn’t just acknowledge the loss, but the injustice of it. and it makes your throat close up.

you lift your head slightly, looking at his face. “it- it is. i tried so hard. i put so much effort into that stupid job, and now it’s just—just gone.”

Ford hums. “tell me something.” he leans forward, putting elbows on the table. “do you think your value was in the work you did?”

you blink at him, but he doesn't even let you answer. “because if that were the case, then the moment you lost that job, you would have lost all worth as a person. but that’s not true, is it?” his voice is always so calm, full of absolute certainty.

you shake your head slowly, unsurely and Ford nods, satisfied. then, after a brief pause, he stands. “wait here” you don’t have the energy to question him. you just sit, staring blankly at the tabletop, until he returns a moment later with a notebook and pen.

he places them in front of you.

you glance up, confused. “what’s this for?”

Ford takes his seat again, tapping a finger against the cover. “do me a favor, darling. write down five things about yourself that have nothing to do with your job.”

your face looks tired and skeptical. you stare at the paper. “Ford, i—“

“anything,” he says softly, smiling at you. “everything. what you love. what you’re good at. what excites you, what makes you feel something. what matters to you.”

your fingers tighten around the pen. at first, you don’t know where to start. but Ford doesn’t rush you, just patiently sits beside you.

so you write. you write about the things that make you you. and at first, it feels stupid and awkward. it starts small, your favorite books, your favorite songs, the way you love thunderstorms, the way you always make extra coffee just in case someone else wants some.

but then it gets bigger. the things you’ve created. the things you’ve learned. the times you were kind when no one was looking. the people who love you, who see you. the way you keep going, even when it’s hard

Ford watches as you write, nodding approvingly at each entry.

“now tell me: did losing your job take any of that away?”

you stare at the words. the little pieces of yourself you hadn’t even thought about in the wake of everything. softly, you shake your head

Ford’s expression gentles. “then you’re still you. and you’re still worth just as much as you were yesterday. because no job, no institution, no single event defines you.” you swallow hard. Fords voice drops lower. “you are more than what you do, more than what you produce, more than what some company decides you’re worth. you are your thoughts. your curiosity. your kindness.” he gestures to the list. “you are all of this and nothing can take that from you.”

your breath wobbles. Ford’s gaze softens further. “come here, sweetheart.“ you hesitate but only for a second, then stand and he meets you halfway, arms wrapping around you. and Ford isn’t Stanley, isn’t someone used to giving big, open, thoughtless affection. but what he lacks in ease, he makes up for in intent.

because he means this. his big hand moves up and down your back slowly. “you’re not alone in this,” he murmurs into your hair. “we’ll figure something out. and until then. . . you are still extraordinary.“ his voice is so certain, and suddenly you don’t feel quite as lost.

“th-thank you” you bury your face in his sweater, hands gripping his sleeves

“and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.”

you stay there a while. until Ford gives your shoulder one last squeeze and pulls back, adjusting his glasses. “now. i assume you haven’t eaten?”

you smile at him, shaking your head. “no, wasn't in the mood.“

“come, sweetheart, let’s fix that.”

[frillydolle]

hiiii !!! so i dont know if it was u who wrote an arthur x reader fic where reader wears their fathers glasses to read? im pretty sure it wasnt, but i thought of it as a good idea. so, what im asking is, would u be comfortable writing something with reader wearing glasses but instead of not seeing things near they don't see things far away. so they're going through life blurry and arthur notices because they keep bumping into things bc they have no sense of depth without their glasses. offers to make them an appointment for eye doctor and helps them choose the glasses and everything ? thought it would be cute (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

arthur morgan x blind female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ wearing my glasses right now as i write this :)

“sweetheart, 'm right here— no, 'm here—... y'alrigh'?”

“... i think so.”

that was probably the fourth time u have walked into something? no one else wasn't really sure why, but only because u didn't tell anyone. it was like a secret of urs that u have kept for a long while.

arthur was really the only man who knew u struggled with ur eyesight for as long as u can remember. shooting was a huge problem that u avoid as much as u could despite living in an outlaw gang, arthur would do best his best to help u, but it never went well. u couldn't even hit a bottle!

shooting was definitely not in ur skills. no matter the number of times that arthur willing helps u shoot a gun or help u aim better, nothing worked. u always still managed to shoot a tree or shoot at.. basically nothing, u always missed the three empty bottles he placed for u to gun at.

“mr morgan, i can't— i can't see that bottle, 's too far.”

“want me to bring it closer?”

of course he did. undeniably, he's always had a soft spot for you, but it's not like he'd admit anyone else in camp or you, especially. he treated u like a fragile girl, which u weren't too far from. having bad eyesight did make u feel more vulnerable and fragile, and arthur knew this. makes him just a little protective with you as he's often seen with his fingers intertwined with urs or his arm rests around ur waist. it gave yoy sense of safety and.. comfort.

sometimes the silly man might forget just how blind you really are:( he'd never mean to! he'd just be so so focused on something and he'd bring you with him and it just slips his mind simply!

“arthur, wait—!” you'd say as u try to catch up to his pace, ur hands slightly out just in case u fall. “oh, 'm sorry, sweetheart. 'm right 'ere.”

but now, he decided to help you, proper this time. the two of u are on his horse whike trotting away, your hands around his torso tightly incase you fall or anything like such. you had no idea where he was taking you though, his words being “'s a secret, but nothin' too big, y'know?” nonetheless, you were just glad that he out if camp, noticing how stressed he would be until his blue-green eyes would set on you:(

“... saint denis? what do you have planned, arthur?” you say with a small giggle, looking at him while he's looking straight onto the road in front of him. “jus' a nice day out. you 'n' me.” he replied. huh. a nice day out. just a day out. but days were him were never often that simple, usually ended with someone recognising from blackwater or another robbery, or you talking him out of beating a man for making you uncomfortable. you thanked him regardless, making sure you're safe and well.

then he hitches off his hourse, you follow suit...the doctor's office? what was he doing here? i mean, he's fine, right? you're fine too except your eyesight, of course. wait, was he—

“c'mon, darlin'. yer fine, i promise ya.” he says as he sticks his arm to you, waiting for you to hold his arm before walking into the building. he knew you were slightly anxious about it, but he was willing to help you in any way he could.

a man like him... blood on his hands, lives taken because of him, rough and callous from hard work, a man like him with all bite and bark like a violent dog. that man bring a sweet girl like you to the doctor's office to get you sorted out with a new pair of glasses. ♡

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 22 - The hero Gala

Summary: The cat is out of the bag - Izuku is in trouble.

Warnings: swear words, mentions of sexual shenanigans, angst - IM SORRY GUYS

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1st Chapter Master List Support the potato

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Izuku’s friends tried their best to change Izuku’s mind about the whole Gala situation but their words fell on deaf ears every time; Izuku was adamant that he has no rights to be there and no one could change his mind, not even you.

There was a weird tension in the air between you two after the trip was over; Izuku went back into his shell right as you opened the door to his apartment and the only time you managed to make him smile was when you sneaked under his covers and cheekily kissed his thighs while giggling to yourself like a child or other cheeky shenanigans. Apparently, Izuku adores moments like that; when he is loved, appreciated, without the need to prove himself worthy. Izuku loves to be loved, especially by you, and even though you never ask for anything back he’s always keen to do the same for you and by the look of it, he enjoys it just as much as he enjoys “receiving”.

“Sweets, love me.” Izuku mutters into your neck on a sunny afternoon, right before the hero Gala. First, you have a slight urge to laugh and remind the greenette that you love him every day but then you realize his whole body is rigid and you stay quiet.

Something is wrong and that something is connected to the hero gala, you are sure of it, but you don’t ask questions; you just let your fingers rake through Izuku’s messy locks, you play with his scalp and the back of his ears, and Izuku closes his eyes and sighs, his breaths long, deep and full of lust.

“You like it when I play with your hair?” You finally ask him, and Izuku blushes like a schoolboy.

“A little bit too much, to be honest.” He giggles. “But it works. I don’t think there is enough blood left in my brain to overthink.” Izuku sheepishly admits.

This conversation makes you think about your first time with Izuku; it has only been a few days since but you feel like you’ve been intimate with him for so much longer; it just feels so right to be together in that way, to show how much you love the other without the need of words. On that first day, you grabbed Izuku’s hair from the back and pulled it, and the sweet sound Izuku had made will forever live in your head rent free. Seeing Izuku vulnerable and worked up is your new favorite thing; mostly, because you know that with you, he can let himself go completely, clear his mind and just be himself. It’s good for you and it’s good for him.

But you also start to get concerned that your random acts of love became a way for him to distract himself from this problem he’s facing right now and you really don’t want this new kind of love to become a bad memory for him.

“Can I be honest with you?” You mumble into his hair, a little bit terrified to continue.

“Sweets, of course.”

“I… I’m scared.” You admit. “I feel like I’ve made a mistake. I’ve been trying to cheer you up and make you happy but I feel like… now, every time you feel anxious you try to… well.. get cheeky with me but I want these moments to be happy, to be about us… I might be selfish, but…”

“Stop.” Izuku jumps into your words, a little bit offended. “I would never use your body for such a thing and if I ever do, I’ll tell you and ask for your permission to do that. You are the love of my life and while yeah, it is a really good way to distract myself from the turmoil in my head, the only thing I think about during our time together is you and you only. Us doing things so frequently since has nothing to do with my anxiety. I just love loving you. I love how there is no one but us in those moments. I love the way you feel, the way you smell, I love to see how much you enjoy my touches. It’s like a drug to me. Please, never say such thing ever again because it breaks my heart.” Izuku finally finishes and you feel terrible now.

“I’m so sorry, Izu, I just…”

“You just don’t understand how much I love you. And I get that. It’s hard to understand that you can mean so much to another person. Even if you are… mentally okay… everyone is a bit judgmental when it comes to their own self.” Izuku smiles and kisses your lips to prove his point even further. “But Sweets, you are everything to me. Even if the world falls apart, even is loose all my memories, I’ll forever come back to you. There is no path in life where I don’t end up right here at the end of the journey. I kiss you because I need you, I love you because I can’t get enough of you. I might be a little bit too clingy thanks to the fact that my brain wants me to believe that me being the way I am now is not the same person you fell in love with but I know it’s all bullshit. I just need a lot of validation right now. And maybe I’m seeking it by being intimate with you. Hm. Maybe you had a point.” Izuku rambles and you can’t help but laugh.

“Those therapy sessions are really good for you. Look at you self-analyzing yourself!”

“I know, right?” Izuku laughs, slowly moving up to tower over you. “So can you do that to my hair again? I’ve been so good today. So so good.” He grins, clearly aware of how cringe his is right now.

“Nope. You ruined it.” You push the man away and run into the kitchen to sit down by the table cluttered with drawing materials. “I need to finish this commission, anyway!”

Izuku stays put for an hour then sneaks under the table while you’re distracted by all the different kind of greens you need to choose from for pro hero Deku’s hair.

“Hey.” Izuku looks up at you from between your legs with a big, hungry grin on his face and… let’s just say he gets what he wants afterwards.

This man will be the death of you.

~•🥦•~

The evening is a blur. You two sit down on the sofa when the time comes; Izu looks restless, stressed, absolutely out of it, he doesn’t cuddle, he doesn’t come close, he just sits by the TV, his right leg bouncing up and down and you are five seconds away from yelling at him; no, not because it’s annoying, but because there is something he’s hiding and you really do not appreciate being left out of something so important and you hate how you are incapable of helping because Izuku does not let you in on this one.

The gala starts and the fellow heroes make their grand entrance; Katsuki and Eijiou look gorgeous in their tailored suits, elegant but deadly, Kyouka is wearing a beautiful frilly dress, all black, and her favorite boots, she reminds you of Avril Lavigne but more extreme. It takes 10 minutes for the interviewer to question the number one hero’s absence; Izuku’s leg stops moving and he stares at his feet, not even looking at the screen. You usually love watching the gala; the beautiful dresses, the smile on the heroes faces but today, you are dreading it; there is a static coming from TV, but maybe it’s coming from Izuku’s uncontrollable quirk, the colors are faded but maybe that’s only in your head, it’s weirdly dark and something is just wrong, so wrong you can’t shake the feeling off.

“What have you done…” you look at your boyfriend, because you can’t do this anymore.

“Sweets…”

“What have you done, Izuku?!” You ask again, frustrated. You can barely finish your sentence before the event officially starts; the 10th hero gets announced, then the list goes up to the top three… you already know something is up when there is only 3 places left but there are four people, the top four still seated in the crowd, or in Izuku’s case, at home. The camera zooms in at Katsuki, who looks angry and disheveled, nothing like he looked like a few minutes ago. Katsuki is clever and he definitely knows how to count. Kirishima has concern etched into his face, already up the podium as a fellow top 10 hero. He probably hates not being there for his partner. There is anger boiling inside you from seeing how this beautiful event was completely ruined for these people.

“Before we move to the top three, I would like to play a video we got from our Number One hero, Deku.” The retired hero who was asked to hold the ceremony announces with an utterly confused face.

… And then you understand what’s going on.

“Hey there, my fellow hero partners and everyone in Japan.” Izuku’s voice is firm and confident or at least it sounds like it but you know it’s all a fucking act. “I’m really sorry for not coming to the Gala in person but I have a feeling I would be killed by friends if I do.” He smiles sadly. “First of all, I want to thank everyone for keeping me on the first place for so long. It has been a pleasure and I do feel I worked hard enough to get to that first place but it wouldn’t have been possible without all of you. But…” this is a bad dream. This is not real. This can’t be fucking real. “It’s time for me to give this opportunity to someone else. As you all know, I’ve been out of commission for a while now and it will take a long time for me to heal. Until my body is ready to earn your votes, until I’m able to thank you by saving as many people as I can, I would like to announce my temporary retirement from the hero business.” In the background, Katsuki stands up and is about to leave the event. Kyouka stops him. Katsuki yells but it’s not audible. More heroes come over to tame the beast. Eijirou looks like he’s about to cry, his eyes full of longing as he looks at his partner, his best friend, struggling while he’s standing on the podium. “Once I’m ready, I want to earn your votes with my actions. I want and I will earn my spot back in the future. But for now, I want you guys to move on without me. Thank you for everything. I can’t wait to see the new Number One hero. Kacchan, make me proud.”

Katsuki cries. But not from happiness.

“I don’t want it!” Katsuki yells so loudly it’s audible. “I don’t fucking want it! It’s not mine! It’s not…” the first sob leaves Katsuki’s mouth and that’s the last straw for Eijirou; he jumps off the podium and runs towards Katsuki, completely ruining the gala.

Izuku jumps up from the sofa and leaves without a word, leaving droplets of tears on the floor as he runs by. You have no idea what to do. You want to run after Izuku, you want to run to the gala, to be there for Katsuki, because in the last few weeks, he and Eijirou became family to you. You are also extremely mad and disappointed in your Izuku so you have a selfish thought of letting him stew in his own juice; but you need to be an adult here, you need to think about Izuku’s mental health, about the reason why Izuku is going to therapy in the first place, you need to be the bigger man, put your anger aside and help him get through it.

Yes, the Gala was ruined, but in a fucked up way, Izuku wasn’t wrong; the doctors did say he won’t be able to be back to work for a couple of months and he probably won’t be at his best for the next few months after, so technically speaking, he would have lost his first place by next year anyway. Ripping of the bandaid now instead of watching your rank go further and further down while you are supposed to be stress-free would have done more harm than good.

The problem here is the way Izuku did the deed but at the same time, there is no way Katsuki would have let him do this even if it’s the right thing to do.

On the screen, Katsuki and Eijirou leaves the Gala while the poor spoke-person tries to save the event.

There is no way they are not headed this way. Which means you MUST get Izuku out of his stupor before they arrive. The event was held 1 hour away; that is if they use a taxi. Knowing how angry Katsuki is, he’ll fucking fly through the sky and arrive without Eijirou in less than 20 minutes, leaving the blonde without the only person who can restrain him if he looses his shit.

You could close the back door but Katsuki would break through anyway. They also have a spare key. There is no point.

20 minutes.

“Fuck.” You pull yourself together and run towards Izuku’s secret office entrance; you don’t need to see him going that way to know that’s where he went. Your phone rings in your pocket; there is a message from Izuku’s mom and a missed call from Eijirou; you quickly message his mom back saying you have it under control and it’s all good, then you call the red haired man back who can’t stop rambling for the life of him.

“Dude, I can’t understand what you are saying.” You mumble angrily as you run through the small corridor. “But if this is about Katsuki flying though the city to kick Izuku’s ass, I had a hunch and I’m trying my best to sort him him out so he can at least communicate with him.” You end the call without waiting for a response. You have twenty minutes to get Izuku out of his office, if not, Katsuki will explode the small hidden room and you will all die from smoke inhalation… wait, does he even know about this room? Oh, he does. He doesn’t know how to open it, though. Not like it really matters, he is a clever man so it would take him a few minutes to find out the “code”. He knows Izuku better than he knows the back of his own pretty, smooth hands.

“Go away” Izuku mumbles right as you put the code in and open the door. “I said GO AWAY” Blackwhip surges forward but you are not scared; Izuku would never hurt you.

“PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT BELONGS, MIDORIYA IZUKU!” You yell; black whip shakes a bit and retreats. Izuku looks like a deer caught in the headlights, utterly surprised by your stern voice.

“I’m… so… Sorry.” Izuku stares at the floor, embarrassed. He’s still crying. You want to give him a hug but you also want to pummel him to the floor (not in a cheeky way.)

“No, I get it, and I get why you did what you did but we have 15 minutes before Katsuki barges through the back door and I don’t want our love nest to explode so let’s make a plan and let’s wait for that angry Pomeranian outside. If he ruins any of my plants, I’ll kill him myself, though. I worked really hard to make them look this pretty.”

Izuku looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s hearing; there is so much fondness in his eyes, so much love it almost makes you forget that the man is in trouble.

“You are the best girlfriend in the whole wide world, do you know that?”

“Well, you can show me your appreciation later, now let’s get ready for battle.”

Izuku says nothing but smiles; he takes your hand and lets you pull him towards the exit.

“A fated battle between two men, as Ochako would say.” Izuku smiles to himself, eyes still full of tears. You roll your eyes.

“Fated battle between two idiots, I would rather say.”

“Fair point.”

Honestly, at this point, you don’t remember how it feels to have a normal life. You’ve changed so much in the last few months your own parents would probably think you are an alien in their daughter’s body which might sound like a bad thing but it’s quite the opposite; you’ve become stronger, better, kinder but you’ve also learned how to say no, how to stand up for yourself, how to be your own person. You’ll be always grateful for this weird bunch for helping find yourself after being lost for years.

“Explodo-boy is about to land. Take a deep breath, Izu.” You mumble as you see a flaming meteor in the sky coming closer and closer.

“This is how I die.”

This retort earns Izuku a big smack to the back of his fluffy head.

… to be continued!

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Potato ramble:

- Eyyyo, sorry for the angst but it had to happen! I tried to be nice and not actually end the chapter with a really bad cliffhanger so please appreciate me trying. Haha.

- I only have two chapters to write (this is real life time, you guys have a few more chapters! For now, it should end with Chapter 26.) but I think I’m gonna post the ones I have ready, so I can read your feedback and maybe add some extra chapters or put some of your ideas into the existing ones. This means there is going to be a bit of delay again in the future, but hopefully, not months, but a week or two. I don’t really like writing without hearing your thoughts first but I’m also not in the right mind space to keep posting every week so it’s the devil’s cycle really.

I enjoy writing to you but I enjoy writing together with you even more! So feel free to share your thoughts or things you want to read about; this is your last chance to speak up! 💜

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

[ezrasxfics]

I got a fic request!

This one is an angst one; so basically Caine and Zooble are having the usual argument, Zooble doesn't want to go on an adventure, Caine is frustrated, the lack of communication gets to them both and Zooble pulls the "just an AI/mindless machine" card, which causes Caine to just flip out and yell out his grievances to Zooble, taking all of his pent up frustration and stress out on Zooble. If you want to get extra mean, you could have Caine say something really harsh towards Zooble, and Zooble would end up crying, or alternatively, you could have Zooble trying to make it up to Caine, be a bit nicer to him and participate in the adventures more often, but he doesn't buy it, still hurt by Zooble's comment about him being an AI.

Either ending works!

language barriers

(title credits: @justaragdollysblog)

-

caine + zooble (platonic) angst

-

caine pov

“AGAIN!?” i yell, noticing zooble trying to walk off, avoiding yet another one of my amazing adventures. it makes no sense to me, i try so hard to make them happy.. and i get nothing but this ungrateful attitude - it’s frustrating! why can’t they at least TRY to go on at least one?

“uh- yeah?? i mean, this sounds so sh*tty. see you guys later.” they begin to take a few more steps, but i block their path.

“zooble- zooble.. im trying to make you happy here!! all of you, i’m trying so hard, and for you to discredit my work like this.. its offensive!!”

“how the hell can you even get offended!? you’re an ai—“

suddenly, something in me seems to break, i don’t know if it was a glitch or a malfunction, but i find myself screaming at zooble - saying many, many less than savoury things to them. i admit i’m insecure, that their avoidance of my adventures genuinely hurts, it makes me feel like i’m not worthwhile, like i’m not good at my job. despite me trying so, so, so hard—

until i say something.

something that fills me with regret - a.. new feeling..? my system must’ve been updated.

“well, zooble, you’re hardly human either. i mean, look at you!! do you even know who or what you are?? because it’s hard to tell, so why don’t you enlighten us—!?”

suddenly, i’m cut off by a sob. and another. …another.

i made zooble cry. i.. ive never seen them like this before. and seeing them like this.. it makes a horrible pit in my stomach. i think i did something wrong. i made a mistake - an error.

i hurt a human in my care.

-

i’m sorry this one is kinda short!! i felt like if i made it any longer than this it would take away from the impact!!!

reblogs appreciated!!

[exhaustedpirate]

to make a family whole

day 8 of @bucktommyfluffebruary - surprise! Im bringing back my beloved piper from “on waking up beside you” and “fire engine red” - she’s a safe haven that post-breakup buck took care of while at the station and bonded with, bc he couldn’t take care of her he decided to pester poor joan, the social worker about piper’s well-being. let’s say his persistence bears fruits and joan was actually charmed.

rated G | 1294 words

also on AO3

“We have reservations in,” Buck checks his watch with a sigh. “Half an hour, are you ready?”

Tommy’s voice speaks over the sound of the faucet. “I just need a minute, babe, promise.”

Buck sighs. They were going to be late.

Not like they had had much luck during their previous anniversaries. Their first dating anniversary, the restaurant burned down two hours before their reservation - Buck was actually called to assist when the fire began to spread. Luckily, there had been no casualties.

For their second anniversary, Buck was planning to go all romantic comedy on Tommy. Get them both dressed up, take him to a fancy restaurant and, when they brought the desert, he’d ask a very important question. They did not count on the fire alarm being set off due to a malfunction. The whole restaurant was doused by the rogue sprinklers and they had all stood on the parking lot, drenched and cold. Thank god for his boyfriend’s warm body.

The waiter approached them while they all waited outside. He tried to be as discreet as possible but really, it wasn’t like Tommy was not gonna notice the ring.

Yeah, yeah, Buck was gonna hide the ring in the desert. He was trying to be romantic.

Turns out, a parking lot proposal can still be just as romantic.

Their first wedding anniversary was ruined by a vicious stomach bug - nothing like dealing with gastroenteritis together to bring a couple closer - and their second led to a very embarrassing ER trip. They decided to put a pause on impulsive adventures in the bedroom.

Now, for their third wedding anniversary, Buck had decided to make a simpler plan. Reservations at a restaurant close to them, with food they know and love and absolutely no more surprises. Easy and intimate. They’d try their luck again next year, he thought.

Of course, it would be a perfect plan if Tommy would hurry.

“20 minutes, Tommy.” Buck whines, standing by the door.

“I’m sorry, I’m ready,” Tommy rushes out of the bedroom, fixing his tie. Buck lets out a frustrated breath and puts his hands on his hips, Tommy grins apologetically as he looks at his husband. “You look gorgeous as always, husband.”

Buck tries to keep his frustration even as Tommy lays a smacking kiss on his lips but if it hadn’t been the kisses, the way the word “husband” from the other man’s mouth still makes him melt would have done it. With a sigh, Buck pulls Tommy to him by his tie and kisses him softly.

“You look gorgeous too.”

Tommy smiles that scrunchy smile and Buck would propose again if he could. His husband holds out his arm for Buck to take. “Shall we?”

“Ye-”

His phone rings.

Both of them frown at it for a second. Their whole family knows of their celebration, as simple as it may be, they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t for anything serious. Please, not another emergency.

“I-I should-” Buck starts, grabbing his phone from his trousers pocket while Tommy nods.

It isn’t Maddie or Chimney. It isn’t Hen or Karen. It isn’t Bobby and it certainly isn’t Athena. It isn’t Eddie, despite his sometimes forgetfulness regarding the Buckley-Kinard’s plans.

“J-Joan is calling me.” Buck mumbles as he reads the name on his phone screen.

“W-What?”

“Joan is calling me.” He repeats as if it’ll make more sense the second time.

The couple looks at each other and then back at the phone, back at each other again. His husband seems to get his wits about him faster, thankfully.

“What are you waiting for? Pick up, pick up.”

Buck takes a deep breath while the other man crosses his arms over his chest, one hand playing with his bottom lip. He exudes nerves and confusion. He knows exactly what a call from Joan means - better yet, knows how strange it is that Joan is calling him at all.

Joan never calls him. He always calls her.

Holy shit.

His finger trembles as he accepts the call and clears his throat. “H-Hello?”

“Mr. Buckley,” The woman on the other side of the phone speaks in a professional tone, not the usual fondly exasperated sigh, and Buck even forgets to correct the last name as he usually does. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“No, you’re-it’s alright,” He scratches his scalp, ignoring the way it messes his hair. “I mean, is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Joan is nervous. Oh, that’s weird. “I wanted to talk to you about P-the baby.”

Buck feels like his heart is about to explode out of chest. “Is she okay?” He feels Tommy’s comforting touch on his forearms and it helps keep his heart inside of his body even if it’s stuck at his throat.

“She’s safe,” Joan quickly assures him and he relishes in the deep breath he takes. “She’s back with us.”

Buck frowns and Tommy matches, even if he can’t hear what’s being said. “What do you mean?”

“Well, her foster parents went back on the adoption.”

“But she was with them for like two years, h-how-what?!”

“Take a deep breath, baby.” Tommy whispers, taking hold of his hand, and Buck tries to temper the anger in his chest.

“I can’t disclose much over the phone, Mr. Buckley,” Joan’s professional tone is back and he almost cherishes it - someone in this call should keep their wits. “Would you be able to come to the office tomorrow morning?”

“Y-yeah, I’m free but-“

“I knew you were attached to the baby when we first met,” Joan interrupts, sentimentality creeping into her voice. “And I also know that you weren’t in the right space to take her.”

Buck nods wordlessly. He still remembered holding that baby for the first time after pulling her out of the baby box outside the fire station. Still remembered the way the baby held his fingers, her noises, gurgles, cries. And he still remembered, could feel it even now, how hard it was to have to give her to the social worker. But Joan had been kind and always took his calls, even if it was to say the same thing everytime - “I can’t disclose private information, Mr. Buckley, but she’s safe”.

Tommy, his beautiful husband, holds his hand tighter. He also knows about it all, may not have felt it but he knows. Buck told him all about meeting the small baby after their breakup, how it had felt good to make someone happy for that day. Told him how he had wished he was in a better place so he could take her home. But he couldn’t.

But maybe now-

“I’m hoping that maybe now, things are different?” Joan’s tone was hopeful and Buck’s heart pounds in his chest with the same hope.

Maybe now.

He looks into Tommy’s eyes and his husband looks back, the love of his life sees what he doesn’t have the words to say. He’s so lucky. Tommy smiles at him, that hopeful smile that was there when he first saw the wedding ring, when they first kissed, in that little café. His husband nods and Buck feels all the pieces fitting together, pieces that he didn’t even know were scattered.

“What time do you want me there, Joan?”

He hears her relieved breath and smiles. “9 o’clock?”

Buck grins. “We’ll be there.”

As soon as he hangs up, he is pulled into a kiss, a passionate and happy kiss that he is more than happy to reciprocate. A kiss that tastes salty but the good kind.

They don’t make their reservations. They order Chinese as Buck brings out the clipboard, they start making plans.

As far as surprises on their anniversaries, getting a daughter is probably the best of them.

[curioushabitforarivergod]

Responding to the ask request ‼️

What if.. tragic seer!harry au... He keeps making prophecies about an incoming but no one listens because they want to stay in their little bubble where there's no conflict and all is peaceful .. I got inspired by the song "Cassandra" by Taylor swift if you've ever heard it <3 the timeline and the characters around harry are up to you if you are interested in this prompt !! Hope you have a great day <3

(Ive not heard the song, but Im familiar with Greek mythology! This, though, is set shortly before 1348 and the bubonic plague that killed 1/3 of England's population)

-

Harry fingers the fine embroidery on his robes — a gift from his parents for turning 16 — and tries to banish the images of destruction from his mind.

"Are you concentrating, Harry?" His tutor. An old friend of his parents who he's known forever.

Harry shakes his head. "Sorry, I was. Something about Hastings?"

Lupin hums but a smile twitches across his face. "If I'm boring you, we could take a break? Your father was suggesting you spend some time practising for the jousting competition at the end of the month."

Harry shakes his head, again. There is a sour taste in his mouth, something rancid — not as rancid as the bodies, he tells himself, piled on carts, covered in red sores, and then, out, out, out. He doesn't want to think about the plague he knows is coming, the death.

"What would..." Harry hesitates. He's pleaded with his family over the last year, to close the borders, to ask the alchemists and the cunning folk to find a cure, but they laughed him off easily the first few times, and talked about sending him away after that. "If the population..."

Lupin sighs. He kneels beside Harry's desk, his knees creaking slightly. "We've talked about this Harry," he says softly, like he's being kind. "God won't deliver penance when we haven't sinned."

It's not about sin, Harry wants to say. He shuts his mouth instead.

They won't listen. They never do. They'll suffer for it, Harry knows, and there is nothing that can be done, but he prays every night that this time will be the one they take him seriously.

"Never mind," he says instead, frowning a little. "Keep talking about 1066. It doesn't matter."

The gift — it's not really a gift, it's a curse — came from Riddle. An older boy in the castle, Harry had liked him, liked him a lot, actually. Too much so, that was the problem.

Riddle was manipulative, he'd persuaded Harry into things Harry wasn't sure were allowed, and things Harry was certain weren't allowed.

"I'll give you a gift," he said, smile sharp as they'd leaned in the shade of a tree. "It'll be our secret, yeah? And then you can come away with me."

Harry grinned back and nodded. Seconds later, he was aware of every moment of being, twisting from him in a map of coloured threads. And when he'd looked at Tom, looked at the possibilities, the futures, the everythings, he realised couldn't be with the older boy anymore.

"No," he'd said. "No. You should leave and never come back."

Tom had shrugged, sneering slightly. "You know what you're doing. You'll come crawling back to me soon enough, begging me to love you."

Harry had laughed. "I really won't." He was the seer nobody believed, he was a myth, he knew exactly what the future held and it didn't hold Tom. "Goodbye."

His dreams came true, his thoughts. Things happened around Harry, and they kept happening and they wouldn't stop. Harry knew everything and it hurt in the base of his heart.

(And when the bodies had piled up, no one missed a local lord's son, and no one cared to remember he had warned them.)

[alliumsduo]

Halloween costume but i'm dressed up as ctommy and i have a c!dream plush and i dropkick him into oncoming traffic

[oceanwithouthermoon]

imo everyone who insists that saikis life was perfect and he was a spoiled brat complaining about nothing are just purposefully ignoring and misinterpreting the whole manga simply because they like other characters better and want to make up scenarios to make their fav seem like a precious little victim in every situation

its hard to explain but i see it happen a lot with specifically people who have dedicated accounts for other characters and constantly misattribute every issue to "saikis such a baby, my character has it way worse!" "saiki hurt my babys feelings once so i hate him!" "saikis such a spoiled brat, my baby has a way shittier life and never complains about it!" "saiki hurt my poor precious fav once so hes an abusive monster!"

and said "shittier life" that they "never complain" about is either the persons headcanons (literally made up) or... the character DOES complain about it and the person takes those words at FACE VALUE but ignores everything else, including things that actually HAPPEN right in front of our eyes

[torahtot]

you can always tell when someone doesn't have maga men in their life and god it makes me angry.. "if you're nice and compassionate you can be the one woman that makes them realize women aren't mean!" my mom bent over backwards for my dad for 25 fucking years he has plenty of other women kissing his ass and it never changed anything. do you really think that before being radicalized they never knew a single kind woman? they were never friends with a nice girl? alt-right men's problem with women isn't just that they've experienced too many mean women and they need to be shown that women can be nice, it's that they think women are inferior and don't deserve rights and don't understand anything so you can do what you want with them. and it takes a lot more than being nice to show someone that you aren't inferior. this isn't a case of being nice even when it's hard for the sake of deradicalization, it's about spending every fucking interaction with someone trying to get them to see you as a human being with value and a functioning intellect while they just laugh and show you that's never going to happen.

i cannot stress this enough: random women are not just going out and Being Mean to men. ur average guy interacts with plenty of women throughout his life- close women amongst their friends and family, casual interactions etc. most people don't start out being shunned by women, they start out being treated as NORMAL. & when they show their disrespect in normal society, it isn't tolerated, but when they go to alt-right spaces (which they're pushed towards online) they're told they're allowed to be as horrible as they want with no consequences because they're entitled to everything. it isn't "women aren't welcoming and the alt-right is so friendly so i'll become alt-right," it's "women don't let me disrespect them and the alt-right tells me fuck them, do whatever you want, you're entitled to it all" and why would you choose the group where you have to be a normal accountable person when there's a group that will reward you for being a shithead who gives no fucks?

the alt-right can afford to be more friendly and welcoming because they can allow bigotry. this can't work the same way for progressive spaces because we can be as kind & welcoming as possible but at the end of the day we have lines where we have to say "this behavior/speech isn't allowed in this space," and for certain people, that just can't win against a space where you can be as nasty as you want. these posts always end with a disclaimer saying "of course being kind doesnt mean you need to tolerate their bigotries" but what they don't realize and what drives me crazy is that women not tolerating bigotry IS the "women are mean" that radicalized them in the first place. they perceive you pushing back on any bigotry or bullshit as you being a meanie and treating them like they're ontologically evil. the 'kindness' they need to be deradicalized is you letting them walk all over you.

idk what the answer is to deradicalizing them and im sure relationships are part of it but you can be as kind as you want and all it will do is destroy you ime. i cant stand to see people (who have never even successfully deradicalized any man by being nice btw they always speak in hypotheticals and not from experience) double down on telling women to do things that will see no results and only hurt them, especially when any woman who has tried can tell you exactly how it went

[xxplastic-cubexx]

do u think either charles or erik had trouble coming to terms with their love for one another?? like religious guilt, internalized homophobia, etc.

Many such cases really … not hard to imagine them dealin with that …

[fallenrain40]

ALSO, I JUST WANT TO SAY. Although I'm not the biggest Ivypool fan, I never really was, THE FANDOM ISN'T EXACTLY ALWAYS NICE TO HER EITHER. Now, it's not as bad as the way they've treated Dovewing. And Ivypool often felt like a fan favorite, even !! But. I've also seen some terrible takes on THE BOTH of them. Alongside Hollyleaf as well. Honestly, those three cats seemed to get a lot of weird controversy meanwhile Jayfeather is Literally Perfect Boy to the fandom, and even LIONBLAZE doesn't really get much hate- he's just seen as kind of boring, which, is pretty accurate for the majority of the time he had a POV. very starkly different vibe the fandom has towards those cats meanwhile Holly, Ivy, and Dove all stir up arguments all the time. Them being flawed characters are a GOOD THING and idk why some people dont get that

[lululeighsworld]

Lorah: Lilac Knight's Love

Artist: @littledashdraws

Wanted to share this commission by Dash, who so lovingly illustrated my vision for Gunter's first wife!! Although Lorah's lived in my head since 2017, this is the first time I've had her drawn. Because I'm so thrilled over this art, I put together a little introduction for her!! you can read more about her below~

Residence: Duet Mountains Occupation: Farmer •❀• Bedside Nurse •❀• Homemaker Birthday: July 11 Gender: Female Relatives: Gunter (Husband) Katerina (Daughter)* Personality: Shy •❀• Bubbly •❀• Optimistic Hobbies: Crafting •❀• Gardening •❀• Baking Age: 21 (when she first meets Gunter) •❀• 36 (at death)

A Nohrian commoner whose known the kingdom's southern mountain range and neighbouring valleys her entire life, Lorah was a recognizable resident of her town even though she kept to herself. Learning the basics of herbal remedies from a young age, she would split her time between tending to the fields and easing the woes of the sick. In adulthood, she would chance upon meeting a Nohrian Great Knight during her town's annual spring festival. The couple's engagement, after seven years of courting, had become one of the most highly anticipated moments amongst the townsfolk.

*NOT the Nohrian Queen. I named their kid before I realized what Xander's mom's name was and by that point I was already ATTACHED (tell me Caterpillar is not the cutest nickname). So now the reason they share a name is lore relevant (which is a part of this fic!).

divider by saradika

[pickled-flowers]

Also just because you get annoyed by something someone is doing doesn't mean they are evil you can leave us alone

[worstloki]

sigyn that married loki like ages ago so when it comes out he's jotun she's like. 'well it's a bit late to do anything about that'

[obnoxiousarcade]

I have a longing to be understood more than anything else i think

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

I opened up about my body image issues and people called me a horrible person, told me I'm invalidating people with eds and that I'm body shaming people? God what the fuck? Ive got no fucking support system in real life and the Internet just hates me I guess.