Latest Posts by bi-focal12 - Page 5

fanart where bakugou is drawn wearing deku’s silly all might scarf are so special to me

home visit 🏠 ft. shiketsu au dabihawks

hi!!! if ur comfortable: what's your favorite book of all time (and why), and if you had to choose between only being able to use escalators or only using elevators for the rest of your life, which would u pick?

hope ur having a nice day <3

hello! :)

this one stumped me for a minute but my favorite book of all time would have to be Seven Brief Lessons on Physics by Carlo Rovelli (and ik how that sounds but stay with me here). It’s non-fiction but the prose is so beautiful and the author’s voice so clear that it doesn’t read at all like a textbook or a lecture, and it has such a warm, optimistic tone that I find it really uplifting and I re-read it sometimes when I need a pick-me-up.

im usually not much of a re-reader but it helps that this one is only about 80 pages. its also kind of nostalgic bc I picked it up when I was going through a rough time and it got me out of a very long reading slump.

overall I’m mainly a fiction reader but narrowing down my favorite of those feels pretty impossible

as far as escalators vs elevators, escalators are definitely much more fun but I’d hate to have to climb the stairs of a super tall building so for the sake of my poor legs I think I’d have to go with elevators

thanks for the ask! I hope you’re having a good day too <33

Week three:

15- fic- bkdk, post-Kamino, au where Izuku goes to Shiketsu and is in their support course

-this was meant to be a somewhat angsty reconnection fic but so far it’s turning out mostly humorous. heavily based on the idea that izuku stole an AM action figure from bkg when they were four and “intends” to give it back as a way to gain entry into the bakugou house to see if Kacchan’s doing okay (but he 100% still leaves with the figure)

16- no writing- ‘twas a very busy day for bi_focal and now it is bedtime. thinking about Grenade the dog, though

17- no writing x2- I really did not realize how busy I would be once I came home for the holidays but I’ll redouble my writing efforts for tomorrow!

18- fic & original- prompt response & short story

-wasn’t quite sure how to approach this one, but then I thought up the first line and the rest just flowed. im at 420 words rn so i have plenty of room to do touch up and make it nice :)

-also, i wrote the first few lines of a short story idea i want to have fully written one day

19- fic x3- pre-slash bkdk for writing practice, prompt response, & Short For Grenade

-just a silly little idea I had where everybody except Izuku knows that Izuku is in love with bakugou, so when bkg asks him out Izuku is like: but im not gay :( (and bkg is like ‘yeah okay we’ll see about that')

-finished my second prompt response! im realizing action description is a little tricky for me

-added some more to the Short For Grenade fic (it needs some serious editing but you cant edit without writing the cringey stuff first so im doing my best to work towards a complete rough draft)

20- original- single stanza poem tonight just to get some words on the page ‘cause I am so sleepy

21- fic- togachako frankestein meets adam and eve

-fiddled with this one a bit today, mostly editing and polishing, and opened it up for contributions! id be very excited to get some other writer's takes on the idea. pretty sure i had paris paloma on blast when i originally wrote it

I want to write at least a little bit every day in December so I’ve decided to keep a log and post it here to keep myself accountable! I’ll list whether it’s a fic or original, what it’s about, and a few of my thoughts about each project. posted weekly, I think :)

reblog if you’d like one of these in your inbox

- ask me things you want to know about me

- why you follow me

- what’s on your mind/what you’re thinking about

- a compliment

- make me choose between two things

- ask for advice

- tell me a secret

- things you associate me with

- anything!!!!

looking for fellow writers!! togachako writing game edition

interested in writing a second part to a short togachako fic i wrote?

i dont really plan on doing anything with this piece so i think it'd be really fun to see people's takes on how to continue it! like a super low pressure writing game

if you do participate, pls tag me or reblog so i can see your contribution!! even if its just a few lines!

the fic is a loose play on frankenstein with some adam & eve elements thrown in (and the unnamed girl is ochako)

have at it! :)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Toga was a bloodied thing, she knew. 

She was born with cold metal kissing her bare skin and electricity shrieking down her spine. Her first breath- a choking, cut-off scream- was not even her own, the memory too tightly braided with the boom of Dr. Garaki's laughter in his small laboratory. 

I made you, he had explained, pain still ringing oddly in her skull. 

She had been made, not born, and no one loved to remind her of this fact more than Dr. Garaki himself. 

Pet, he called her, grinning indulgently in his tall, wingback office chair. The reflection of his glasses shone like fire. Like the spark that had jolted her alive. 

I made you, he’d say. I made you. 

But what am I? Toga would ask, twin pinpricks of too-sharp teeth digging into her too-wide lips while she fumbled out the words, warmth dribbling from her rosy smile. 

Dr. Garaki did not like this image, nor the question. 

You are my creation, he’d snap, the floor rumbling with the force of his rise from the wingback chair. Do you not trust me, pet? 

Toga would watch the sky flash outside the dark windows of the laboratory and nod, nod, nod because she did not know what she was but she knew punishment well. 

All Toga knew was punishment and Inside. 

The Inside of the laboratory, which smelled faintly of the coins that slipped between uneven couch cushions, and the Inside of Toga- drawn from her own disordered lips- red as plush velvet and twice as sweet. 

Good, Dr. Garaki would say from behind his wide, unbreachable desk. Now behave. 

Behave, behave, behave. 

This word buzzed around Toga’s head like the constant drone of heavy machinery in the lab. It followed her when she closed her fists around home-smelling coins, retrieved from their hiding places late at night, and when she draped her goose-bumped body in the off-limits, grass-green curtains, and, louder still, when she peered out of small, dirt-smeared windows, asking after the word for grass.

Red had leaked from her cheek, then, bursting forth from the skin by the rings adorning Dr. Garaki’s punishing hand. But the word had slipped out as he’d shouted. 

Toga’s tongue had darted to the corner of her mouth and she’d imagined the word blooming over her tongue- swallowed and safe within herself. 

Yes, Toga knew of Inside well. She craved the taste of Outside, now. 

Outside she saw a girl with red flowers in her hand, picked from the border of Dr. Garaki’s property, and high on her cheeks laid a dusting of soft-petalled blush. 

Toga had never known the color red could be so gentle.

Toga longed to be picked from the laboratory like the thorned stems in the girl’s steady hands. To be lifted up. To be held. 

“You’re not supposed to be looking through there,” Twice whispered from over Toga’s shoulder. “It’s bad.” 

Toga gnawed on her bottom lip, drawing red to the surface until she matched the roses being carried further and further from the laboratory. 

“Why?” she asked. 

Toga didn’t know who she was asking- Twice, the disappearing girl, or the flowers? 

Twice was the only one to respond. 

“Because Dr. Garaki said it’s bad,” he reminded her nervously. 

Toga watched the girl’s form begin to blur on the horizon. 

Twice shook her shoulder and Toga’s gaze slipped to the touch, observing the firm boundary between Toga and Twice. His fingers held the same shape as Dr. Garaki’s- more same than Toga’s- yet held none of the anger. Only urgency. 

“How come Dr. Garaki gets to make all the rules?” Toga asked. 

Twice’s hand slipped away like the question had bitten him, and, Toga thought to herself, maybe it had. With Twice’s same-enough hands he could cradle lessons from Dr. Garaki on how to name the objects in the laboratory. His scratching fingers could be gently pulled away from his seams. He could hold close the smiling shape of son on Dr. Garaki’s lips. 

Twice held the honor of being made same-enough while Toga’s hands and heart and smile were wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Pet, Dr. Garaki said, teeth glistening behind a simper. Filthy-

“Mr. Garaki wants what’s best for us,” Twice said, twitching on the last syllable and scratching the ragged line carved down his forehead. 

“Does he?” Toga questioned. 

How do you know? she wanted to ask. She craved his certainty with a desperation that left her Inside chest pounding hard against the firm line of her Outside body. 

Twice twitched. 

“I trust him.” 

The dull roar of the laboratory seemed loud today, and Toga felt restless. 

“Do you trust?” Twice asked. 

Toga’s mouth quivered and she turned her gaze back to the small window. The girl was gone now but she would be back tomorrow. 

Toga flinched as the door slammed open and Dr. Garaki appeared a moment later. 

Pet or-

“Filthy woman,” Dr. Garaki muttered, striding forward to yank the green curtain from Toga’s body. The view of Outside disappeared. 

Toga shivered. 

“Don’t you know your shame dirties you?” Dr. Garaki continued, staring at the Outside of her body. 

Could he see the Inside?

Toga desperately hoped that he couldn’t. 

“It’s unbecoming of my creations,” he stated before spinning on his covered foot to stride through his office door, a box of rattling machine parts held in his arms. 

Toga’s trust in Dr. Garaki was as brittle as the vase she had tipped over the other day, fascinated by the sound it made when it hit the floor. Left in a puddle of red after Dr. Garaki had found her. 

Inside herself, Toga said, I do not trust Dr. Garaki, and shame bloomed hot and heavy in her chest. 

She felt like the vase, one breathless moment before it shattered. 

“Toga?” Twice whispered, eyes drooping with concern. 

“It’s cold,” Toga whispered. 

Twice fidgeted for a moment, his nails hesitating a  few inches from his sewn-together face. After a furtive glance towards Dr. Garaki’s closed office door, he gave into the urge to scratch, leaving raking, red lines across his Outside. 

“I know,” he murmured. “Do I? I…yes. I know.” 

Toga blinked away the blurry heat gathering in her eyes and reached out with her not-same-enough hand until it rested on Twice’s knee. 

Slowly, she ran her hand up and down one length of his leg. Then faster. 

Twice stared. 

“See?” she whispered. “It makes warmth.”

“I…” Twice peeked over his shoulder, towards the door Dr. Garaki had disappeared behind. “…see. I see. I do.”

Toga removed her hand and watched Twice repeat the action for himself. 

Toga turned back to the green curtain, looking in the place she knew the window lived, and began rubbing warmth back into her arms as she imagined the girl. 

I trust her, Toga decided. 

And how lovely was it for there to be a her that wasn’t Toga? A her that Toga might be same-enough for. 

Dr. Garaki cursed the Outside people but Toga bit her lip and danced with the idea that the girl from Outside might see Toga- red as the roses she always returned to- and pluck her, instead. 

And then maybe Toga could live how she wanted to. Cursed or not.

hey so let’s just go wild!!! you can write what you want!! and even share it with others!!!

A year-end update on my original novel concept

Hey friends, it's been awhile since I've been able to put in any work on this! But I've been doing some world building and altering a few things, and thought it might be nice to send you an updated summary of my original novel. It is tentatively titled "The Pilgrimage", but who knows, that might change as well.

Alays Webster is a weaver in a small town on the edge of the Barrens in a country called Codor. Life in her hometown is pretty sedate, and more or less ruled by the country's religious hierarchy and its tenets, observing festivals and attending service and what have you. It is expected that everyone will go on pilgrimage to the capital at least once in their lifetimes, to witness miracles and see the Sleeping King himself, where he lies in state while battling in the spirit realm against false gods and keeping them out of Codor. Alays, though, was always a sickly child, and still has occasional bad days now that she's grown. So she’s put off making the pilgrimage until her childhood best friend, Vezian, now a priest, comes and cajoles her into making the journey with him.

The Barrens are a dead wasteland that surround Codor on all sides; as far as anyone knows, no one can live there, and the area is considered to be forsaken by everyone, even the Sleeping King. On her pilgrimage, Alays learns that her proximity to the Barrens causes others to look down on her, and she encounters concepts that she had never considered before, everything from how criminals are treated to “witches” and “demons”, from whose magic the Sleeping King's priests promise protection.

Alays's ill health improves the closer she gets to the capital, and this is touted as a miracle from the Sleeping King himself. It turns out, however, that Alays is sensitive to magical energies, and her health is improving because she is traveling through healthier land that has more magic available for her to draw from. Magic is secretly but strictly regulated by the priesthood, and anyone who tries to use it outside of their purview is labeled a witch, and sentenced to a terrible fate: either death, or “alteration” into Misbegotten monsters. Alays is now in terrible danger through no fault of her own.

Vezian’s mentor, Father Marcellus, explains this to Alays, and arranges for her to escape to the Barrens via airship, piloted by a man named Lucas. In my original version of this story, Lucas is a shady fellow who almost certainly can not be trusted, and Vezian is exiled along with Alays. In the updated 2023 version of this story, I want Alays to go to the Barrens alone, taken there by Lucas, while Vezian is left behind without even the first clue what could have happened to his childhood best friend. In that case, Vezian has to hunt for Alays himself, and learn a great deal about the secrets the upper echelons of the priesthood have been hiding from him. Though Vezian doesn’t know it yet, Lucas will be instrumental in helping him find Alays once more.

This is, incidentally, a plot that I write over and over again, no matter how hard I might try to to get away from it: “Character A is separated from Character B and they must reunite,” except that once they do reunite, Vezian discovers that Alays is dying, and with Lucas's help must go on a dangerous journey across the Barrens and into the unknown in order to save her life.

What follows is a tale of adventure, exile, betrayal, and trust, that tests not only their faith, but everything Lucas, Vezian, and Alays thought they ever knew. There will be magic, and gods, new lands not seen in centuries, and old tales not heard in just as long.

(My worldbuilding for this is extensive, and highly distracting. Now if only I could get the story itself to be half as interesting.)

middle aged moms gossiping we love to see it

personally, i definitely think that these phrases stand out a lot more to the writer than to the reader, but if you feel like those comparison phrases are adding up too much or getting a bit clunky, I’d recommend experimenting with metaphors rather than trying to look for replacements for “like” or “as”

to a reader, something like “her smile was like the rising sun” is super easy to read and can do a lot of work communicating theme and mood and details about the character (or narrator, depending) but switching it up to something more complex like “her smile was akin to the rising sun” can make a reader pause and go ‘huh that’s a little awkward’ unless that’s the style of language you’ve been writing in the whole time

that said, i think the simplest way to cut down on similes if you have too many (or don’t enjoy how they affect the flow of your sentences) is to use metaphors. they can help cut down that barrier between a character comparing two things (e.g. her smile & the rising sun) and instead appeal directly to a reader’s senses or their understanding of the world, so that the comparison just becomes part of the scene itself

for example, I was reading Sally Rooney’s Normal People during the unit on comparisons for a writing course I took and some that stood out to me were how she described “rain silver as loose change in the glare of traffic” and how that rain “[whispered] on slick roof tiles”

the first quote is a simile while the second is a metaphor, but both of them are making comparisons (the first comparing rain & loose change, leaning on a readers visual reference for shiny coins and implying that the narrator thinks these two things are alike) while the second one compares the sound of rain to the sound of whispering by making it part of the scene description directly. rather than say “it was as if the rain whispered on slick roof tiles” Rooney broke down the barrier that similes sometimes put up by directly appealing to the reader’s senses instead (sound here, instead of sight) and that’s effective bc a reader can very easily understand what it means for rain to whisper without the author having to put in a lot of work looking for a natural way to say “the rain seemed as if it was whispering on slick roof tiles”

and sometimes similes just work better than metaphors. it really depends but, as the author, you get to choose what works for you and what doesn’t

these kind of considerations can be hard to remember when you’re in the middle of writing, too, but the editing phase can be a great place to turn some similes into metaphors (or to decide that you like all your similes and to leave them be!)

i know a lot of my writing involves me writing exactly what I mean, and then scaling it back in the editing phase so that I’m showing what I mean instead of stating it all outright- and in that process a lot of similes end up incorporated in different ways (either by using metaphors instead or by dropping the comparison altogether and leaning more on body language and or theme to draw out the ideas and impressions i want a reader to get) so maybe that strategy could work for you too?

i got a little long-winded here but I hope this helps!

As a newer writer, I'm struggling to use similes in more ways other than by phrases like "like", "seeming as", "as if" or other versions of these three.

What are some of the other, if any, ways to compare something to something else, to avoid a book turning mundane?

Plotting is so much easier when you remember that editing exists; if it doesn’t go right the first time, you can fuck around later and make it better once you’ve got a clearer picture in your head of what you’re after

Your story probably isn’t gonna look even close to your plotting notes by the end of it, and that’s a good thing; it means your drafting worked

Hey! So now that I feel a lil bit more confident, I had another idea (again pretty simple, but I don’t have that many complex thoughts xD)

Midoriya Izuku (again, but I love this gremlin) + Eraserhead saves him (from a villain/classmates/his family/himself, whatever you want) + quirkless Izuku AU/Izuku didn’t receive One for All

Here! I love quirkless Izuku’s fanfictions because I really enjoy how the authors are dealing with his anxious self-deprecating mindset, writing angst with it or fluff - I particularly enjoy when Aizawa saves him or talks to him about it even if he doesn’t know anything about this kid, just that he’s quirkless and in danger.

Btw! I don’t remember that you asked for a vibe in particular but if you didn’t want to write angst or hurt/comfort, I’m really sorry! My prompt is really heading in this direction, so sorry if it’s not what you want…

In anyway, have a great day, evening or night 💚💫

Author's note: thanks for the prompt! I think AUs where Izuku doesn't have OFA are really interesting and it was nice to practice writing something without a romantic focus | 500 words

*cw for reckless behavior that could be seen as suicidal

Izuku was 76% sure he could do it. He shuffled closer to the ledge of the Daiki Electric building, eyeing the distance to the alley below. 

All he had to do was catch himself on the windowsill of the building next door, drag his soles against the brick to slow his momentum, hop to the opposite wall to counterbalance his falling weight, and then land. 

Easy peasy. 

Or, maybe not easy but…

“Necessary,” Izuku murmured, bending slightly at the knees as he gathered his courage. 

Maybe it wasn’t realistic or easy or safe, but Izuku didn’t have anything else, so- 

“Nothing else?” an unfamiliar voice challenged. 

Izuku startled, tipping toward the open air and the cold, hard concrete below- a shout ripped from his throat. 

76% suddenly seemed too optimistic. 

Izuku flailed, fingertips hardly scraping brick when something soft wrapped around his middle, unyielding, and hoisted him back to solid ground. 

Once released, Izuku collapsed on his hands and knees, gasping and trembling. 

“Breathe,” the voice instructed.

A man, Izuku was pretty sure. He’d only barely caught a glimpse of them perching on the roof, all wrapped in shadow while Izuku plummeted toward the sidewalk. 

That...probably deserved a thank you, didn’t it? 

“If you want to thank me, how about tell me what you’re doing up here?” 

Izuku’s head shot toward the man, startled. 

“You’re mumbling,” he explained. 

“You’re Eraserhead,” Izuku shot back, gobsmacked. 

The man tipped his head to the side, more of an acknowledgment than an agreement. 

Starstruck, Izuku rose to his knees. “You’re so cool! You have no idea! Or- actually I guess you would have an idea, considering you’re him and-“

“Thanks, kid,” Eraserhead murmured, “but we were talking about you.” 

“Me?” 

“You.” Eraserhead gestured toward the ground. “Jumping.”

Izuku waved his hands in frantic denial. “N-no! I was training!”

Eraserhead tilted his head again and, this time, it felt like doubt. 

“I-it’s true! I- I wanna be a hero, but...the thing is, I’m quirkless, so I have to work harder than everybody else a-and how could I chase a villain in a fight if I can't even...I mean, heroes like All Might can just shoot off and save the day, you know?” 

Eraserhead paced slowly closer to Izuku, then dropped into a crouch, reminding Izuku that he was still on his knees.

Still shaking. 

“If I were quirkless,” Eraserhead started carefully, “I would think that means…weight training. Cardio. Martial arts or a long distance weapon. Both, even. Not leaping off of rooftops.”

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat, saltwater slowly blurring his vision and slipping past his lips. 

“I…I just wanted…” Izuku choked out. 

“I know, kid.” Eraserhead’s hand landed carefully atop Izuku’s head. 

Warm. Grounding.

Izuku shut his eyes in relief, still sniffling. 

“Let’s get off this roof, okay? I'll...buy you a milk, or something.”

“A-and you’ll give me your autograph?”

Eraserhead huffed softly. 

“Only if you can make me a list of things that'll keep you off of rooftops."

"Your autograph would help."

me as a writer

Week two:

8- original(?)- just a journal entry, today

-im realizing that I tend to talk myself out of starting original works (or even long fics sometimes) bc i don’t have that much faith in my own abilities and the idea of writing things that are bad doesn’t sit well with me. they say the first step to solving a problem is acknowledging it though, so im gonna do my best to try to approach this insecurity mindfully and with kindness

9- fic- genin era sasuke, emotional/hurt comfort, kakashi doesn't know how to comfort a kid At All but he's trying in his own weird way (and Iruka eventually helps him out)

-this one opens with kakashi luring young Sasuke away from his empty compound with a trail of baby tomatoes (think Scully leaving a trail of cereal for Boo) and his trap/plan ends up failing so badly that it works in the end

10- fic- single dad bakugou/ teacher midoriya

-was rereading the partial draft and wrote more for it solely bc i want to read the end product lol

11- fic- bkdk fluff

-wrote a short practice thing bc i love the headcanon that Katsuki stares expectantly at Izuku when he wants a kiss and just waits for Izuku to understand

12- fic- inko-centric, implied eventual bkdk

-finally wrote the intro to my soul tangles idea! basically a spin on a soulmate AU (bkdk are the soulmates) but it focuses on inko and her interactions with mitsuki&masaru since their kids are both toddlers who need to be kept near each other for health reasons but the bakugou’s start as complete strangers to inko

13- fic- middle school era bakugou & izuku, fluff and humour, very nonserious

-basically bakugou gets a dog to help with his anger issues, izuku is afraid of dogs bc of a past event bkg was unaware of, and bkg makes it his mission to make izuku chill with his dog (who is named grenade) and ends up making himself chill with izuku

14- fic- on ao3 as probably not (also posted on tumblr) no quirk au

-this one's inspired by a username that caught my eye (but i misread) and was written while listening to velvet ring by big thief on loop (and not packing to go home from college). i really enjoy this one and its one of the few works of mine where i really like the platonic bkdk lens

I want to write at least a little bit every day in December so I’ve decided to keep a log and post it here to keep myself accountable! I’ll list whether it’s a fic or original, what it’s about, and a few of my thoughts about each project. posted weekly, I think :)

@probabydeadbynow i saw your user (though im now realizing i misread it, lol) and it sparked this short fic idea so i wanted to share it with you before i post to ao3 (bnha, no quirk AU)

There was a piece of graffiti Izuku always saw around town. Sometimes it’d be done in white, other times blue, but most of the time it was purple- each letter looped and sprawling and bleeding into the next. 

Probably dead by now, it always said. 

Izuku didn’t know why he liked it so much. It felt odd to smile at those words when he saw them spray painted underneath the Musutafu bridge but, then again, he remembered seeing those same exact words when he was being driven home from the hospital after breaking his arm for the first time, a lollipop between his lips and a new All Might plush under his arm. And then again the morning his Dad came home for Christmas, surprising Izuku at the door. And then again the day of Kacchan’s 10th birthday party. The one with the All Might impersonator that had carried them both around on his shoulders for a while, their sweaty hands linked behind his head for no other reason except that they were happy. 

White then blue then white again. Purple today. 

Probably dead by now, it always said. 

Probably not, Izuku thought back, peering out of the passenger window with a growing smile. 

Izuku had never seen the artist. Never even caught a glimpse, but their handwriting was paint-splattered over so many of Izuku’s brightest memories. 

“What’s got you so smiley, huh?” Kacchan asked. 

Izuku turned away from the window, watching the way Kacchan’s sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel like his life depended on it. He’d only had his license for a few weeks now. 

“I think something good’s going to happen today,” Izuku replied.

Privately, he was pretty sure it already had. 

Kacchan hadn’t invited Izuku anywhere since that 10th birthday party at the arcade and now they were on their way to tour a newly built school together. 

Kacchan scoffed lightly. “What’s so good about college?” he shot back. 

“I don’t know,” Izuku replied honestly, idly flicking through the UA pamphlet resting on his lap. “Maybe…” Izuku glanced towards Kacchan. Quieter, he said, “Maybe we’ll end up going there together. You know, like old times?” 

Really old times, anyway. When Izuku would trade his apple slices for Kacchan’s potato chips at lunchtime and they’d walk home together in their baby blue smocks, hands clasped firmly together.

Not like the way they’d make passing eye contact in the halls of their high school, always in opposite motion even if Izuku’s eyes would sometimes trail after Kacchan's back. 

Even if sometimes he caught Kacchan looking, too. 

Kacchan was quiet for a few moments, the careful tick of the turn signal a feeble echo of Izuku’s hammering pulse.  

Izuku was pretty sure he remembered seeing that same graffiti- purple, and nearly washed out by a recent rainstorm- the day Kacchan threw Izuku’s notebook from a third story window in junior high. 

“Just don’t expect me to fucking hold your hand,” Kacchan eventually bit out, eyes averted- his focus too intense on the empty road for it mean anything other than embarrassment. 

His tone too light for it to even feel like a denial. 

Izuku quickly turned his gaze to his knees, smothering a smile. The UA pamphlet creased beneath his fingers. 

Probably dead by now.  

Purple. Scribbled across the window of an empty storefront. 

Kacchan had grabbed Izuku’s hand two blocks later and shoved that same pamphlet at him, holding on for a beat too long. 

“You dropped that,” he’d lied. 

His hand had been warm. 

“My dad and I were gonna tour it this weekend but he’s got a work thing.”

Izuku’s eyes had been wide and curious. He’d held his breath while Kacchan scratched the back of his neck and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground, casting around for the right words to say. 

“I guess you could take his spot or whatever,” he’d continued with a shrug. “If you pay for gas. ‘Cause I’m going whether you catch a ride or not.”

Izuku had thought that Kacchan would probably leave him in the dust by the time it came to go to college. Or not go, he supposed, but…

Izuku lifted his head again, listening to the way Kacchan hummed softly along with the radio. His sunglasses were All Might themed- a custom release with a subtle design that Izuku hadn’t been able to afford. 

There was a second pair, just like it, shoved towards Izuku’s chest when he first climbed into Kacchan’s car, along with a muttered comment about how Kacchan didn’t want to hear any crybaby complaints about the sun. 

They rested comfortably on Izuku’s head now. 

Probably dead by now, it always said.  

Izuku pulled them down until everything in his field of vision was tinged a soft yellow. 

Life was funny that way, he thought.

Out of all the mha AUs you’ve made, is there one that you’re particularly fond of?

The fusion au I made with my friend :’) <3 also scammers to lovers! It’s such a silly au that I just kinda made on a whim and turned into something special and I’m always thinking about it lol

MHA tweets pt.23

since im already trying to write every day in December, ive decided to try finishing (or at least making significant progress) in a medium length fic of mine that i honestly forgot existed until today

basically, the concept is that middle school bakugou gets a dog to help with his anger issues and then becomes super nosy when he finds out izuku had a bad experience with a dog when they were kids and tries to mastermind izuku into liking his dog (which ends up backfiring in the sense that bkg masterminds himself into liking izuku). here are some snippets! (the dogs name is Grenade btw)

*****

“Why the fuck didn’t I know Deku was allergic to dogs?” Katsuki asked over dinner, surreptitiously sneaking a helping of pork to the dog snugly resting at his feet. 

“Because he’s not?” his mother responded, pausing mid-bite to level Katsuki with an annoyed frown. “And I see you feeding that dog, brat. Stop it.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Katsuki shot back, only for Nade’s head to pop up from beneath the table cloth a moment later, a paw placed pleadingly on Katsuki’s thigh. 

His mother raised an imperious eyebrow. 

“Whatever,” Katsuki muttered dejectedly. “And yes the fuck he is. Him and Auntie totally freaked at the park today.”

His father’s utensils clattered to his plate in an uncharacteristic show of clumsiness. “You had Nade around Izuku?” he asked, concerned. 

Katsuki frowned at him. “Not on purpose,” he hedged. “He didn’t even get close.” Then he turned to face his mother again. “Because he’s allergic.”

*****

“Oi, Deku,” Katsuki said. 

Deku jolted out of his trance and blinked up at Katsuki. “I’m not a stalker!” he announced without prompting. “Your desk isn’t really that far away from mine and your handwriting is clear enough to be seen from several seats away and it's only natural that I would be curious ab- I mean, that my eyes would wander and just happen to glance over your notebook, it’s not like it was intentional or anything, and-”

“That’s not what this is about, nerd,” Katsuki interrupted, swatting Izuku’s concern away like an annoying fly. “You know dogs are walked on sidewalks, right?”

Deku’s stance grew more rigid and his eyes rapidly scanned the area for signs of Grenade, one hand instinctively grasping at his side and Katsuki batted away the wayward desire to lift Deku’s shirt to see if that’s where the scar was because that would be weird.

Day 10: They put up winter lights at UA heights to boost morale. Kacchan is cold and sleepy😔

📝📝

bokuto icon commission for @/simpleparoxysm on twitter

🩷

*Sero and Todoroki observing bkdk*

Sero, jokingly: I want what they have…

Todoroki, hesitant: I… okay, you’re annoying.

Sero:

Todoroki: and a loser…?

Sero: I wanna kiss you so bad.

December writing log: week one

1- fic- serokami, childhood friends to lovers, genderqueer questioning kami

-had this idea on a whim but thought serokami fit it well. i wanna focus on kami’s internal journey and family/friend relationships for most of it. princess bride references snuck their way in

2- original & fic- a short, nonsensical poem and rough planning for a new fic (bc planning is part of writing even if it’s not what im focused on this month 👍)

-poetry def helps get my creative juices flowing and honestly i forgot how much i enjoy it. had a nice convo w a prof today abt poetry that inspired me to pick it back up

3- fic- working on my first December prompt response! Deku + chronic pain + deku/bakugou/todoroki relationship

-poly seems really tricky to write but it’s a fun challenge and def outside my typical wheelhouse. i’m really happy so far with the decision to include Uraraka in the scene (and to have her dialogue do a lot of the work implying the background info and framing things). love my girl ochako :)

4- original- a six page script (aka the final for my ecocinema class)

-today was pretty busy so i only had a little bit of time to mess with my draft but i made a change to the intro that I think will help make the setting clearer and also sets up for the main theme a little better

5- fic- prompt response again!

-im def over 500 words rn lol but it’s really fun to work on. decided to take the route of romantic situation but deku’s lowkey oblivious to the intent until it’s spelled out crystal clear. so far it’s very sweet. uraraka = #1 wingman

6- fic & original- prompt response & six-pg script

-polished the prompt response and double checked the wc before uploading (very exciting!) and submitted the final version of my script. i'm not 100% satisfied with it at a creative level but i think i'll get a good grade and my prof liked the concept, which is nice

7- fic- serokami again

-only wrote abt two lines today but that's still progress. imposter syndrome go brrr

I want to write at least a little bit every day in December so I’ve decided to keep a log and post it here to keep myself accountable! I’ll list whether it’s a fic or original, what it’s about, and a few of my thoughts about each project. posted weekly, I think :)

Hey! Saw your post about giving you prompts ^^ I hope it’s not too bad (first time doing this in my life and I’m an anxious blond head so-)

The prompt is:

Midoriya Izuku + chronic pain (is this a headcanon? I don’t know what’s canon or not anymore) + AU where he’s in a romantic with Katsuki/Shoto/both

I hope it is what you wanted! I know it is pretty simple but I didn’t want to go too overboard for my first prompt. Love your works 💚

Thanks sm for the prompt!! I recognize your user and i'm super flattered that you enjoy my stuff! Chronic pain Izuku is a great headcanon :)

Hope you like it <3

500 words | Deku + chronic pain + bktddk

“So, what’s this?” Uraraka asks, with the air of someone who knows exactly what this is but wants to force Izuku through the mortifying ordeal of explaining it anyway. 

Izuku cringes and closes his eyes. 

Todoroki, immune to embarrassment, says, “We’re massaging Midoriya’s arms.”

Kacchan, immune to social pressure, doesn’t even bother to respond. 

Izuku, caught between two very warm, very close bodies, alternates between melting at the gentle way they knead out the pain from his aching muscles and fidgeting nervously. 

“While practically in his lap?” Uraraka presses. “Both of you?”

And Kacchan and Todoroki do both have a leg tossed over Izuku’s. 

For leverage. Obviously. 

Izuku peeks open one eye, trying to psychically beg Uraraka to stop asking questions and just let him have this. 

“You’re overworking yourself,” Kacchan mutters, displeased and using his quirk to massage a particularly sore finger joint. 

They're practically holding hands.

“Uh huh,” Izuku responds intelligently. 

“Dumbfuck,” Kacchan chastises, flicking his temple. “Listen to me.”

Izuku draws in a sharp breath as Todoroki’s chin comes to rest gently on his other shoulder. 

“He’s right, you know.”

“Don’t…” Izuku starts, falling silent when Todoroki’s thumb presses distractingly against Izuku’s palm. 

Then Kacchan’s temple falls carefully against Izuku’s, breath warm across his cheek, and Izuku tries his best to remember the rest of his sentence. 

“Don’t…um…inflate his ego, Todoroki-kun.” 

Kacchan uses his head to press the three of them closer together, less gently than before, knocking Izuku's skull into Todoroki’s. Three peas in a pod. 

“I don’t get ego-stroking privileges?”  

Izuku laughs nervously. 

“No?”

Todoroki hums. 

“I think Midoriya is a little distracted at the moment.”

Izuku shakes his head. “Not distracted,” he promises. “Just…uh. I'm just…um...”

“Just convinced you two haven’t been hitting on him all year,” Uraraka finishes, voice a conspiratorial whisper, before moving away to the kitchen. 

Izuku can’t help the startled noise that escapes him when two pairs of soft lips press against his cheeks. 

“Get the message yet, nerd?”  

Izuku pauses with an honest answer on his lips and swallows it back down, face growing hot, because if this is real (and all the signs suggested it was) then, 

“…no.”

“No?” Todoroki repeats.

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut. Nervously, he mumbles, “Might have to make it clearer.”

His little stunt is rewarded with a pleased rumble from Kacchan- now nosing at his temple, lips skating achingly close to Izuku's skin in a not-quite kiss- and Todoroki sliding further onto Izuku’s lap.

They’re both still massaging his arms. Izuku hasn't been thinking about the pain for quite a while, though. 

“I don’t know how we could be clearer,” Todoroki says and the heat and the closeness and the genuine concern for his well being must be melting Izuku’s brain because he blurts out, 

“Kiss me.”

It’s worth it, though, for the way they dip down and finally give him what he’s been dreaming about. Ten times sweeter than any whispered, late-night wish. 

"But don't go thinking you call the shots, nerd."

bakusquad all dressing up as gemg dynamight for halloween but it's split into deku, todoroki, and kirishima, who did it because they love bakugou, and kaminari, sero, mina, and jirou who did it to make fun of him

Deku-sensei & GEMG Dynamight ♡♡♡♡♡

Clip Studio Paint | Dec 3, 2024

What they do at those lectures ig

A little comfort for my baby Kacchan cause he needs it rn (I'm the one who needs it)

Prompt requests open for December!

This time I’m doing a 500 word limit challenge to practice effective storytelling and characterization so if you’d like to send a request please leave a comment or send an ask like this:

[Character] + [headcannon] + (optional) [canon-verse or AU]

If you don’t have a preference for the setting, I might play around with AUs or maybe different aspects of the canonverse 

I’m gonna limit this to MHA for now but that’s still a pretty wide range of characters so please don’t hesitate to request something! I'd really love to hear your headcanons! As always, please only sfw requests

Here’s one i wrote for practice as an example but i hope i get much better with practice (fic below the cut!)

500 words | Katsuki Bakugou + afraid of frogs + AU: no quirks (and this is part of a larger au of mine where aizawa/present mic are bakugou’s guardians)

"You!" Katsuki shouted, socked feet planted on top of the dining room table and Aizawa's heaviest textbook held threateningly above his head. 

Aizawa paused with his hand still resting on the doorknob of their home, blinking slowly. The bag on his shoulder was heavy with ungraded essays. 

"Me," he agreed flatly. "What are you doing on the table?"

"I've fucking told you not to leave the backdoor open!"

Aizawa hummed, pulling off his shoes and setting down his things in the entranceway. Vaguely, he remembered stepping onto the back patio with a cup of coffee early this morning, though he couldn't remember opening the door at all, let alone sliding it shut. 

"How many frogs are in the house?" Aizawa asked, stepping around the table to warm up the kettle. He could feel Katsuki's glare doing its best to burn a hole through the back of his head. 

"Four," Katsuki seethed. 

Aizawa kept a careful ear out while he opened the cupboard above the stove, debating between the cat mug he'd found at a yardsale and the orange one Hizashi had made for him last christmas. Faint croaking carried over from the living room. And maybe the staircase. 

"Didn't you fucking hear me?" Katsuki demanded, his reflection blob-like in the silver kettle. 

"Four frogs," Aizawa repeated, though he suspected there were only three.  

"Four pests," Katsuki shot back through gritted teeth. 

"I believe the neighbor's call them 'beloved pets', and I'm not willing to cover up another murder like I did with Rafael."

Katsuki scoffed, though the sound was reedy with unease. The croaking had grown louder. 

"Stupid thing shouldn't have jumped at me while I was using the blowtorch."

"Do you hear that, frogs?" Aizawa called out, flicking off the stove. "Beware of blowtorches in the hands of teenaged boys who should not have had them in the first place." 

Aizawa spared a backwards glance to find the textbook finally drooping, though Katsuki's grip on the pages remained white-knuckled. 

"Are you ever gonna let that go?"

Aizawa leaned his back against the cold countertop, cradling the orange mug between his hands and blowing lightly at the steam. "Not in your lifetime." He could see a frog resting on the third stair. "Why don't you call your friend already so she can catch them?"

Katsuki's left eyebrow twitched- temptation, Aizawa was certain- before drawing low. 

"Fuck no! Frog Face is my second mortal enemy!" Then he crossed his arms. "Besides, I saw some exposed wiring on their house yesterday."

"You cannot blow up their house," Aizawa sighed. He could still remember a six year old Tsuyu returning a handmade eviction notice to their door, Rafael poking out of her shirt. 

"He spelled eviction wrong," she'd said before skipping away, unbothered. 

Aizawa tipped his head to the side. "But at least your tactics have evolved."  

Katsuki glowered. “You're not. Helping.”

"Fine," Aizawa said, pulling their butterfly net from its place on the wall. "I'll play hero."

"Bastard," Katsuki hissed. “Hurry up.”