People are throwing away their WOW tickets…(an event that supports women of the world and their feminist visions and ideals) all because Gillian Anderson isn’t dating who they want to and instead dating a man who is being honored (amongst his other awards and accomplishments) at BFI dinner for his achievements and success in screenplay writing…?
hey, I really like the chibi!deku&dad might comic you did, but could you explain the premise, if you have one formed? because I'm really curious about how they met and how old deku is since all might didn't get injured too long ago from the start of the series
The premise is something like this:
Toshinori has been released from the hospital.
Recovery girl had been the one to handle most of his procedure, patching up his battered body as best she could while keeping an eye on his vitals. Apparently, his most recent battle has left him with a permanent handicap on his strength and a life cut short.
He has been released from the hospital and escaped the clutches of death, but at a dire price.
“Thankfully,” she had said, frowning down at her clipboard, “there are only a few people who were alerted of this setback, and they can be trusted to keep the secret. As far as the general public goes, All Might simply encountered another villain in his daily life and dealt with the situation accordingly.”
He knows that he is fortunate. He knows that he has saved the world from a horrifying villain and come out of it alive.
But still, something a little like inadequacy and disappointment settles in his stomach. Pride at finally having resolved the conflict between the holders of One for All and that man settles within him - him, he had been the one to finally do it; his predecessor can rest easy and Gran Torino is proud - but at the same time that is precisely the problem.
It is done. Resolved. Accomplished. And he has been left with a debilitating handicap as a result.
And all the while, All Might is a pillar of strength and resolve still needed in this world of heroes.
(He doesn’t quite mind, that. It has always been his dream to be a hero, to do as much as he can to help the populace and protect the people, even to his last breath. But the battle with his arch-nemesis has come with a price, and it’s more than a bit difficult to accept the fact that his time as One for All’s sole bearer wears thin and his “final breath” may end up being sooner than he thought.)
So, it is with this mindset - looking battered and broken with gaunt cheeks and shadowed eyes that hold a weariness of carrying the world on his shoulders - that he encounters a young boy crying in the park.
Toshinori has always been the type to do as much as he can to try and see everyone smile. His whole reason for becoming a hero was because he had wanted to aid the cause and help change the world for the better.
Without really thinking, he walks over to the bawling child - noting the bruises and scratches with some quiet remorse - kneels down, and places a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Boy,” Toshinori says, smiling, because All Might always has to smile. “Are you alright?”
He jumps back and just about dies when the boy takes one look at him and screams.
Once the boy finally calms down, Toshinori finds out that his name is Midoriya Izuku. And he is bullied for not having a quirk.
(It took a while to calm the boy down. One look at his face and Midoriya had screamed bloody murder, apparently downright terrified of the sight. Toshinori had only then taken true note of what he looked like after his encounter with the holder of All for One through the reflective metal of a beam and, yeah, he doesn’t exactly look like a pretty sight while smiling.)
Overall, Toshinori is, admittedly, a little shaken.
Because this boy is quirkless. Sure, Toshinori knows that it is still an occurrence these days, but it is a rare occurrence, and for him to encounter Midoriya Izuku the day he is released from the hospital after a battle that has left him as he is…
It’s a silly thought, though. A coincidence. Toshinori wants to try his best to cheer Midoriya up but this encounter doesn’t really mean anything, he is simply doing his duty as a hero that wants to help the people -
But then, Midoriya walks over to the bushes. He emerges with a toy, broken and cracked in his hands, cradling it carefully as his eyes begin to water anew.
“What do you have there, Midoriya boy?” Toshinori asks, quietly.
Midoriya sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he walks closer. “It’s… It’s my treasure.”
Toshinori says nothing in reply, staring dumbly at the familiar color scheme of red, white, and blue, the toy replica’s arm detached and bent awkwardly.
“Kacchan… Kacchan didn’t do it this time,” he says, clutching the toy in his hands. “But… some older people came around when I was playing, and - and I wanna be a hero but they looked at me like I was stupid and dumb because I don’t have a power and they, they -”
A hiccup, and Midoriya rubs a hand roughly over his eyes.
“I… I wanna be like All Might,” he murmurs quietly. “I wanna help people, I wanna be All Might’s sidekick, I, I…”
He looks up, wide eyes watering and voice nasally. Despite this, his next words are spoken with a steely determination.
“I wanna be a hero.”
This is the moment that the lives of two different people take an abrupt turn. Two, both who were born quirkless, one with the ability to pass on a powerful quirk and legacy and one whose dreams have withstood the grim reminder of the fates of quirkless.
Toshinori searches for the familiar strength that he holds, grasping it despite having been told not to just yet. But this is important, and he watches as Midoriya eyes fill with surprise, awe, and wonderment.
“Midoriya Izuku,” he says, and the boy seems to vibrate with contained excitement.
“You will be a hero.”
This is cheesy, I am a writer of cheese but LOOK… That is a PART OF THIS DUO, it just doesn’t feel right without Detroit Smash 100% levels of DORK.
Just in case, for clarification: Izuku is 9, almost 10, since All Might’s first encounter with Izuku was when he was 14 (and he got his injury five years before he met Izuku).
Maybe love doesn’t exist,
Maybe it’s another one of those silly things we’ve created for an illusion of feeling less alone
But I swear that every time your hand is in mine or I see you smile or
Whenever you wrap your arms around my waist as I play with your hair I know
That even if this is not love and love does not exist,
You are something real and I think you are the closest thing to love I can experience,
The only form of bliss I’ve ever really needed.
This time, Bucky avoided you for the day. Usually he
would arrive in the kitchen early in the morning because that’s where you were
before you set off to help Tony with whatever task he assigned you for the day.
He had to ignore his grumbling stomach and the echoing of your voice from the
He could also hear Sam’s loud voice in there, figuring
you two were talking.
“I haven’t seen your boyfriend in a while y/n,” Sam
Bucky’s heart dropped. He was unaware you had a
boyfriend. Before his mood could change, he heard your voice reject Sam’s
**Another silly late night writing thing. So… here you go.
The clock above your motel room TV read 3:35am. Great.
Another night without sleep. It’s not like you could just run off the last
night’s sleep either, mainly because you only got about two hours total. You
flipped through your phone, hoping to find something
interesting. A breaking news story, a game, something.
But nothing caught your attention. Everything on TV was a
lost cause too, unless you wanted to watch a one-hour infomercial about frying
pans. No thanks.
Summary: Request fic for @sassyh0esavage. “I thought it would be really cute if y/n is part of the band, and the guys obvously know about all the fanfics, one day they decide to read one and its about her and one of them”.
“If one more person asks me about fanfiction on Twitter,”
Gerard sighed from his bunk as the tour bus barreled down the highway, “I’m
deleting my account.”
“What are they asking?” Ray asked, quirking his eyebrow as
he looked up from the guitar he was practicing with.
“If I read them,” Gerard explained with a world-weary look. “And
if their ‘OTP’ is real.”
“Are they seriously so self-deluded that they think we’re actually fucking?” Frank laughed as he
exhaled a cloud of smoke from his cigarette.
“Not all of them think that it’s you Gerard’s doing it with, Frank,” pointed out Mikey reasonably as
he texted Pete.
“Wait, who do they think I’m doing it with, then?” Gerard
asked, looking at his brother quizzically.
“Oh, you hadn’t heard?” Mikey blinked. “I know that ‘Frerard’
was the main pairing at first, and, I mean, it’s still got a lot of fans, but
lately another ‘ship’, or whatever it’s called, seems to have a big following
“Who do they think are secretly dating now?” Ray asked with
an exasperated look. “Do they think I’m in
love with Gerard?”
“No, they think Y/N is,” Mikey confessed.
You froze. Fuck, you
thought. You’d been nursing a crush (that you believed was probably unrequited)
on Gerard for a while now. Had the fans noticed the way you looked at him when
he was onstage, and guessed the secret yearnings of your heart?
It was weird as hell to think there were stories out there
about you and Gerard dating and having sex. You’d been friends with him for a
long time, but your relationship had never been more than that. Did teenage
fangirls get off while imagining you sucking Gerard’s dick? Did they spend long
hours thinking of sweet nothings for that fictional version of him to whisper
to you? It was a bizarre concept.
“I’m Googling the ship name,” Frank announced, “because I’m
bored and we’ve got another hour before we’ll be at the next venue and honestly
I kind of find this hilarious.”
“Frank, don’t,” Gerard pleaded, putting his red face in his
“Nah, dude, c’mon, let’s find one of these weird fucking
stories and do a dramatic reading of it,” Frank dared.
“You gotta admit, it’s kind of funny that people think Y/N
is secretly pining for you,” Mikey chuckled.
“Uh…..right,” you said with a fake laugh. If you acted like
this was just another silly thing the fans had dreamed up, your bandmates
wouldn’t guess the way you truly felt.
A text sent out to all Team Skull members in Po Town
Oh, that is today, isn’t it.
He’s going to assign the nearest responsible and sober grunts to guard the door for him while he steps out for a while.
They’re gonna need a lot of munchies.]
>So. >If, in theory, someone was going to get enough food to feed a mansion full of high Team Skull members >What would they eat when they’re high? >Master and Mistress, forgive my ignorance. I’d like your input as well, of course.
This fucking JMR fic took me forever, so I hope you all like it. If not … I’m just sticking with Cockles, because … damn.
“Ew, really? Oh my
god. I’ve lost all respect for you, man.”
Misha chuckles and shakes his head “I don’t think she’s that bad.”
Jensen scoffs so hard, he probably dislodged a tonsil. “Bad
or not, she’s really your first
choice? The one freebee, no questions asked—good
to go lay? Her?”
Rob watches his two friends, amused—comfortable and warm nestled between a throw pillow and his
generous stack of empty beer bottles.
“Well, now that you mention it, I’m thinking Audrey Hepburn
might be a better choice.”
“Isn’ she dead?” Rob slurs, which pulls a pleasant little
laugh past Jensen’s just-licked lips.
“Yeah she is … and even if she wasn’t, she’d be like a hundred
and two by now. Can you think of anyone age appropriate who currently has a
Misha ponders this for a moment, seeming to think long and
hard, like it’s a question for the ages. “Justin Beiber” he finally says with
“Okay, if you’re just going to fuck around, I’ll stop
asking” Jensen snips back. He’s soon leaning forward in his chair to snatch up
his own beer, taking a swig before plopping it down again—all with a
disappointed shake of his head.
“Sor-ry” Misha sighs,
throwing up his hands. “I didn’t realize this game was so serious to you.”
The green eyed man looks to the far side of the room, shrugging
with an air of forced-nonchalance. “It’s not,
but I was curious and you’re just dickin’ around.”
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever actually thought about it that
much.” He seems more sincere now and Rob thinks that he’s probably telling the
truth; Misha Collins doesn’t live
through scenarios after all.
“Oh c’mon! Now I know
Jensen apparently, doesnotagree.
The two men are soon tilted towards one another, gesturing
harshly over the coffee table between them—casting angry shadows on the
convention schedules spread out across the glass. Rob smiles to himself,
feeling the drunk slosh about his
brain, fizzing like warm waters of a jacuzzi. He loves watching Jensen and
Misha bicker like this—drunk or not.
The two act like an old married couple half the time he’s around—and like
flirting teens the other half. All in all, they’re just really cute—no better way to describe them than that, and Rob can’t
stop the grin that grows with his friends’ volume.
you’ve given it a lot of thought! Who would you
do then … if Danneel and I—uh if she gave you a free pass?” Misha peeks over at Rob a moment, as if
to see if he’s still listening.
He is—but he’s fading in and out, falling helplessly into
the soft give of the armchair beneath him.
“Sofia Vergara” Jensen answers quickly.
“Typical” Misha spits back steamed and tender, with an eye
roll on the side.
Jensen hunches forward some more, propping a defensive elbow
atop his knee and puffing out his chest. “What?”
“Oh nothing—just, Macho
Jensen going for the biggest boobs he can find. It’s just … typical.”
“Dude … she’s hot.”
“I realize she’s hot, but I mean, is that all you’re
thinking about? Not personality, just looks?
Don’t get me wrong … if she presented me with the opportunity, I’d be a fool to
pass on it, but—”
“But nothing! See,
you’re exactly as perverted as I am so don’t try to pull some high and mighty
bullshit!” Jensen hisses, leering heavily at blue eyes that now avoid his gaze.
Rob let’s out a bubbly laugh with that one—how could he not? His friends get so
silly and stupid over one another—over silly, stupid things; so much so that
they’re just some brightly colored fur away from being Muppets.
“What?” Misha asks him suddenly, a smile pulling at his
cheek once he finally faces the very drunk third wheel keeping them company in
the green room.
“You two’re funny” Rob garbles, and watches warmly as Jensen
and Misha deflate, smiling back and forth to one another, laying out a new
common ground with the sight of the man melting into his own beard.
“And you’re wasted”
Jensen counters, standing up from his chair. “We should get you back to your
room … it’s already—” he glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Shit, it’s already two in the morning. Fuck, flying tomorrow’s gonna suck.”
“Always does, sleep or
not” Misha agrees, pulling himself up as well.
“You didn’t ask me.” Rob’s beer slicked voice pulls both the
men’s ears back down, curving their attention to him.
laughs, taking a step closer just as Rob’s eyes begin to flutter.
“You din’ ask me” he chirps again and Jensen turns to Misha,
confused, shoulders gathered in a shrug.
“I think he wants you to ask him who his freebee-fuck would be” Misha clarifies, in a tone that makes it
seem likes this is a totally normal conversation. Then again, for theirgroup—it kind of is.
Jensen’s eyebrows smash together as another laugh clamors from
his throat. “Jesus … give the guy a
few Sierra Nevadas and he’s fucking toasted.”
If Rob had the energy, he’d correct Jensen. It was six Sierra Nevadas—thank you very much.
Soon, Jensen is bending down, laying a heavy hand on Rob’s
shoulder, shaking him a little to make sure he’s even still awake. “Okay, bud.
Who would you do, then? Ya know, if
Mollie would let ya.”
Rob peeks back into the questioning face in front of him,
and then slumps his eyes to the right to see Misha standing at Jensen’s side. “She’d
let’me” the man giggles, finally dropping his head and nestling his cheek
against Jensen’s hand.
The action doesn’t seem to faze the guy though, because all
Jensen does is lift his other palm and pat Rob’s cheek. “Oh yeah? You two
already talk about this or somthin’?” Jensen asks, and Rob blinks slowly as he
“Was this one of those ‘you each make a list’ things?” Misha
chimes in, sounding genuinely curious.
Rob nods again.
“Okay, well don’t leave us hangin’ here, man. Who’s on your
list?” Jensen asks, giving Rob’s beard a little rub with his thumb.
“You two” Rob yawns, slipping
easily into the press of Jensen’s fingers and smiling as the world goes dark.