Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

bnha with walkie talkies (2v2 exercise)

Bakugou: dunce face, he's gonna find you. start over.

Kaminari: start what? over.

Bakugou: no. start over.

Kaminari: start what? over.

Midoriya: *appears over Kami like the specter of death* gotcha! :)

Kaminari: ..im cooked. over.

the last 500 words of in the palm of your hand for the ask meme!

I'm putting it all under a "Read More" because it's a little long. This is the fic, for reference, and this is the ask meme. Thank you so so much for the ask!!!

“So,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks so Deku won’t see how fucking sweaty they are. “You’ll have it ready by lunch tomorrow?”  Deku takes the laptop and tilts his head. “Uh. Yeah, I will. In fact, I can get it to you earlier than that-” “I’ll be busy for the rest of the day,” Katsuki lies. All his incident reports are done, and he’s got the night shift on patrol tomorrow. “You’re done by 2 tomorrow, right?” 

This passage was basically Bakugou trying to secure a lunch date with the IT nerd of his dreams and being painfully obvious about it- and he knows he’s being obvious about it, and he’s kind of freaking out because he’s never been in a situation like this. Personally, the nature of Bakugou’s quirk leads me to believe that he’s a really sweaty guy, and that it gets worse when he’s stressed - which makes sense in the context of battle, but is woefully inconvenient anywhere else. Like his palms are wet. 

“...Yes?” “Great. Look, I have to stop at that fucking- crepe place, down the street, right,” he says, praying to every God there is that he looks cool and casual and not like a ‘Deranged Goblin Man’, as the Hero Times described him a few months ago. “So. When you get off work you should meet me there. At the crepe place. Tomorrow. At two pm.” He doesn’t know what’s worse- the fact that he’s really doing this, being reduced to the same sort of emotional sap he would have made fun of only five years ago; or the fact that Present Mic’s lessons on subtlety and hidden meanings in text were actually good for something.  Look at him, effortlessly weaving together words to create sentences with underlying motives. He’s like a modern-day Shakespeare. He’s golden. He’s killing it. Bakugou Katsuki, master of words. He’s on cloud-fucking-nine. He’s- …aaaaand Deku isn’t responding. 

Honestly, one of the main reasons I wrote this fic to begin with is that I really really enjoy it when Bakugou’s blatantly pathetic- and when other characters think he’s pathetic. It’s so great to me. And I personally enjoy it a lot more than when he’s always put together and effortlessly suave- I feel like that’s how he wants to be perceived, but it’s not really how he comes across even when he’s trying. And he’s really trying here. He really likes Deku, and knows his usual unique charm isn’t going to work in actually getting someone to romantically like him, so he pulls out all the stops. One thing I really like to do and always try to do in my writing is to give hints about other character’s interests and personalities within a separate character’s inner monologue- like here, where I mentioned Present Mic having classes like that. I always like reading little details like that in fics and stories because it always gives the impression that there’s more going on in the world. 

Deku blinks. He opens his mouth. Closes it. He sets the laptop down, staring up at Katsuki intently, and Katsuki starts to sweat.  You are Bakugou Katsuki, he reminds himself. You might be down bad, but you’re not weak. It will not kill you if he rejects you. Well, it’ll kill you a little. But not that much.  “At the crepe pla- to give you the laptop, right?” says Deku slowly. His face is turning bright red. Katsuki goes a little weak in the knees.  “Sure, yeah,” Katsuki says half-heartedly. “Look, if you want, I could. I dunno. Fucking- buy you a crepe or something. As payment.”  He’s so smooth. Eat your fucking heart out, Dunce Face. ‘Zero game’, his ass. 

This might just be me but I always think it’s really funny when characters say one sentence, and then blatantly and immediately do a 180 in like, a sentence after that. It’s especially funny when it’s Bakugou- also kind of sad, though. I feel like his superiority and inferiority complexes were in constant battle in his first year, and he still has moments like that. He really wants Deku to like him back, and while he doesn’t doubt his own capabilities to put in the work, he is doubtful of how that’ll affect Deku. Luckily for him, Deku finds him sorta endearing. 

“Sure,” Deku says, scratching the back of his neck, smile just a tad bit shy. His face is still mildly flushed. Katsuki swoons (and does his best to not let it show on his face). “I- uh. I’d like that. I guess.”  “Cool,” says Katsuki. “Cool. Great. Okay, bye. Be there or else. Bye. See you.” He turns on his heel and power walks out of the room, not once looking back, even when Pigtails nearly crashes into him or when Deku makes a noise suspiciously like he’s slamming his head against the desk. He walks out of the room, into the hallway, back to his own office. The door slams shut behind him. He takes a deep breath. Squeezes his eyes shut. A breathlessly excited grin forces his way onto his face, and he pumps his fists, victorious.  He's got a date.

I am a Deku enjoyer first and foremost, and so everything I write kind of reflects that. In a way I think it’s sweet that Bakugou's so smitten, that he’s being such a disaster and that Deku’s all perfect- even if Deku’s equally, if not slightly more- of a disaster than he is.

All in all, this fic was so sweet and fun to write and I was satisfied with how I ended it, which I rarely ever am. Thank you to everyone who read it, and thank you, anon, again for this lovely ask! If anyone would like to send me a similar ask or anything, please feel free to hmu!

For me, I try to replace words like said with something more specific, but only if the dialogue needs it. So like:

“I hate you,” he said.

can be a lot less effective in an argument scene than,

“I hate you!” he shouted.

So advice #1 is add specificity so you can paint the image that you want your readers to have. If I’m struggling to find the specific word I want to use I’ll sometimes try OneLook Thesaurus, but honestly sometimes the simple ones you think of first work best (he shouted vs he vociferated, yk?)

But sometimes you don’t even need the specificity in the dialogue tag to make the image clear, you can focus on description and leave the dialogue standing on its own, like:

Tommy gripped Clarence by the collar, his nostrils flaring.

“I hate you!”

As long as it’s clear who’s speaking, stand alone dialogue can be really effective and it’s smth I’ve had recommended to me before. So advice #2 would be to simply drop some of the said’s or ask’s that aren’t doing much for your dialogue. (But this doesn’t mean it’s automatically better to cut out all of them, especially if some of those tags do a lot of work for the pacing of your dialogue, it’s really up to your own judgement as the all-knowing author)

And advice #3 is just that writers notice the said’s and ask’s way more than a reader ever does, bc to a reader those words tend to become part of the landscape of what they’re reading and feel very natural but if you choose a synonym of said that feels really out of place, then they’ll definitely notice it

So overall I’d say don’t get too in your head about it :)

Having a lot of said’s and ask’s is totally normal, it’s really just up to you if you think they’re not doing enough work to paint the picture you want or if it might be punchier to have to dialogue be without tags! Might even be worth it to look at a piece of writing you really like to see that author’s balance of said/asked vs more specific tags vs no tags at all, especially to note which ones you, as a reader, like the most

Hope this helps and best of luck with your novel!!

I'm using said and asked way to many times in my writing. Where do you all get your synonyms from??

And don't tell me 'Google'

Writing requests are open!

From now through March you can send me an ask with a (sfw) prompt you'd like me to write! As long as I'm comfortable with it, I'll start working on my responses in April.

Prompts can be for fic or your own original idea and while I mostly write for MHA, if you have smth else in mind there's no harm in asking if I'm familiar with the fandom :)

also, if you're interested in any of the fic wips i've talked about on here (or my in-progress ao3 fics) you can send me an ask with the title and i'll be sure to set aside time to work on them and share snippets of my progress! (fic wips listed below the cut)

I'm excited to see your prompts!!

tumblr fic wips

short for grenade: talked about here, here, and here a la three wise men and a baby (i seriously need a better title for this series lmao): part 1 & part 2 probably not, dabihawks version: here (and the official, slightly more polished version of the platonic-ish bkdk 'probably not' piece is on ao3 here) let it sink in: here spelling bee monster: mentioned at the bottom of the fake tweet post, here trophy husband, who?: here cat-suki: here (legitimately forgot i'd posted about this one lol)

ao3 wips

summer daze: here little troubles: here

“Hey we’re matching now!”

I’d like to think that Katsuki’s scar is a lot bigger than it actually is. Like ain’t no way that lil thang was what he got after that fight.

Also tdbk

“fuck it, we ball” is doing wonders for my assignment related anxiety rn

i watched that hallmark movie "three wise men and a baby" with my mom tonight and had this little bkdk brain worm. please enjoy.

bkdk meet cute (but really it's a meet awkward) (they make it work)

“I cannot fucking believe you’re doing this to me.” 

“Doing what?” Denki replied glibly, palming through a handful of bills as he checked and rechecked the cash register in front of him. 

Katsuki leaned forward, bracing his hands on the thin stretch of countertop separating them, gratified to notice Denki taking a small step backward.  

“Ruining my fucking life.”

Denki sighed, lowering his hands as he finally turned to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “It’s just for the day,” he promised, “and you lost rock paper scissors fair and square!”

“I didn’t know the stakes!” Katsuki shot back. 

Denki rolled his eyes as he pushed the cash register closed and ducked behind the counter, returning with the source of the awful squawking that had been invading Katsuki’s eardrums since the second he set foot in Denki’s stupid bookstore. 

“Sir Papolapodous isn’t even that much work.”

“Sir what?”

“Welcome in!” Denki called, responding to the chime of the front door while Katsuki continued to stare down the bright yellow monstrosity being carted off on him for the afternoon. 

As if sensing its imminent doom, the bird began messing with the door to its cage.  

“Just watch out,” Denki continued, “sometimes he likes to-”

Katsuki ducked as the bird launched itself out of the cage. 

“...escape.”

“What the fuck?” Katsuki shouted, pressing his knuckles to his cheek where the damn thing had scratched him. His fingers came back bloody. “Oi, I’m not watching your stupid flying machete for-” 

“Here!” Denki said, hastily rifling into another bag sitting on the countertop and retrieving some sort of pellet thing that he balanced on Katsuki’s shoulder. “He’ll come to you! Watch!”

Katsuki froze. “Hey, I don’t want that thing anywhere near-”

“Sir Papolapodous!” Denki cheered happily, eyes somewhere beyond Katsuki’s right shoulder. Katsuki tensed. 

The demon landed easily on his shoulder, snatching up the pellet and chirping loudly in Katsuki’s ear. Like a threat. Right beside Katsuki’s vulnerable, jugular-having throat. 

“Aw,” Denki cooed. “He likes you!”

“I’ll roast him,” Katsuki warned. “Don’t you leave me with it.” 

Denki gently pushed the bag from earlier towards Katsuki. “I left you instructions.”

“Stab. Pluck. Spin over fire.”

The bird nudged Katsuki’s cheek and Katsuki flinched away, jerking his shoulder to dislodge the pest. 

The bird ignored his efforts. 

“Seriously, Katsuki,” Denki whined, pressing his palms together, “I need to go to the dentist but I’ll be back before close and- hey, maybe some of the customers will get a kick out of seeing him!”

“Yeah, if they like their books covered in shit,” Katsuki complained. 

“No, no, he’s cage-trained,” Denki promised, untying his worker’s apron and hanging it up behind the counter. “Take good care of my son please!”

Katsuki made a face of utter disbelief. “Hey, I agreed to watch your stupid store, loser. Not to become a fucking Wild Kratt!”

Denki quickly hopped over the counter and out of Katsuki’s reach. 

“Two in one package!”

The bell rang loudly in Katsuki’s ears as Denki completed his cowardly retreat. 

“Fucking asshole,” Katsuki muttered. “Cavity-ridden, dead-brain, no-good, ass-”

“Excuse me?” someone said politely. 

Katsuki spun on his heel- perhaps a shade too quickly, or perhaps with too much bird launching off his shoulder because the customer fell flat on their ass with a startled shout, leaving Katsuki awkwardly looming over them. 

“Ow.”

Belatedly, Katsuki leaned down to offer his hand. 

The demon watched them from atop the nearest shelf of books. 

“I- I’m so sorry,” the guy stammered out, straightening his wire-rim glasses and reaching gratefully for Katsuki’s hand. “I- I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“‘S no problem,” Katsuki replied, curiously shelving the guy’s meekness next to his solid, heavy build as he hauled him up. His hands were incredibly scarred and calloused for someone who jumped at the sight of house pets- demonic or not- but Katsuki supposed he’d give him a pass, considering Katsuki’s own near-death experience was still dripping down his face. “Don’t think anybody expects to get dive bombed by a parakeet on a Sunday morning. Unless you’re a fucking vet or something, I guess.”

“That- that’s true,” the guy said, stumbling a bit as Katsuki righted him, one hand landing briefly on Katsuki’s chest. 

With his head ducked in embarrassment, the guy only came up to Katsuki’s chin but even so, he looked like he could give Katsuki a run for his money on the sparring mat. Katsuki was just about to ask what kind of workouts the did when the guy murmured, 

“Pecs.”

Katsuki blinked. “Pecks?”

The guy’s head snapped up towards Katsuki’s, wide-eyed and pale in his freckled face. 

“God dammit, did that thing fucking peck you?” Katsuki groaned, turning to glare at the preening beast. “‘Cause I can give you a fucking discount on whatever you came in here for before I string him up by his stupid little talons.”

“Wha-? Ah, no! No, no, no,” the guy assured, frantically waving his hands in front of himself. 

Large hands, Katsuki noticed. One of which had been resting warmly over Katsuki’s shirt a moment ago. 

“That won’t be necessary!” 

“Then why’d you-?”

“Pet!” the guy corrected, freckles now washed out by a steady shade of pink. “I’m a…pet…” His eyes darted nervously to the left before snapping back to Katsuki. “...therapist.”

His eyes were a very fucking bright shade of green. 

Katsuki blinked slowly as he registered the words that had come out of Greenie’s mouth- taking in the embarrassed tilt to the guy’s lips. His fitted T-shirt. His obnoxiously bright red shoes. Frankly, he looked like he got dressed in the dark. 

Katsuki wet his lips. “A pet therapist,” he repeated blandly. 

“Ah..mhm,” the guy said, nodding. “So, um, so the dive bombings really aren’t that odd,” he added, tacking on an airy laugh. 

Katsuki continued to stare at him, because clearly one of them had taken on major brain damage in the past five minutes, and considering that this guy’s shirt said tuxedo and had a growing hole along the shoulder seam, Katsuki really hoped it wasn’t himself. 

The man gestured vaguely to the shelf behind him. “That’s really a lovely bird you’ve got there, um…?”

“Katsuki,” he supplied. 

“Izuku,” the man smiled, offering out his hand. “Izuku Midoriya.”

Warily, Katsuki shook it. “...Pet therapist,” he repeated. 

“Yup!” Izuku said in a high voice, smiling wider. “That’s me. Therapizing the pets.” 

“Right,” Katsuki replied, because what the fuck was even happening, “well, if you’re looking for a book, we uh…have them.”

Internally, Katsuki cringed. Then he sent a seething, telepathic complaint to Denki because Katsuki had been fired from his one and only customer service job at fifteen and the universe had never made the mistake of putting him in that position ever again for a reason.

Fucking rock paper scissors. 

“Right,” Izuku mimicked, his thousand-watt smile pressing flat with amusement. His stupid green eyes were practically dancing with mirth and Katsuki suddenly felt very warm in the face- alone in a bookstore with a yellow, dive-bombing demon and a man with a fake-sounding job and no sense of color coordination and a very firm handshake. 

Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest, ever so slightly jutting out his chin. He could still feel the outline of a hand where the guy had caught himself against Katsuki. 

“What kinda book does a pet therapist need, anyway?”

The guy continued to blink up at Katsuki for a moment before coming to his senses with a startled, “Oh! I was wondering if you had any comics, actually. All Might, specifically.”

Katsuki raised an interested brow, looking between something-Midoriya, the demon from hell, and then Midoriya again. 

Katsuki had absolutely zero idea what sorts of books Denki had in stock, let alone if he carried the single most greatest graphic novel series of Katsuki’s youth. 

Still, he clicked his tongue. “Let’s find out.”

Katsuki and Izuku argue that they can stay in clas A1 because they're both eight which means Katzuku is 16. So actually they didn't lie, they pass the age and quirk requirement so they should be allowed to skip 8 grades and go to high school.

Also because there's only 20 desks in clas A1, when they're unfused, Katsuki and Izuku just squish next to each other on the one chair. Which will inevitably result in one pushing the other out of the chair.

they make a compelling case

Currently obsessed with katsuki and izuku holding hands post-war, whether you read it as platonic, romantic, or somewhere in between.

For Katsuki, it’s an opportunity to re-live that moment in the river and make a different choice. He can reaffirm that he’s turning over a new leaf and that Deku is there, alive and strong and still reaching out after all these years. It probably helps solidify for him that Deku does forgive him, especially on days where Katsuki still struggles to forgive himself.

And for izuku, you could argue that a large part of his life has been an exercise in reaching out and being rejected, over and over again. But with Kacchan, he gets a physical reminder that someone’s reaching back for him (someone who’s strong enough to keep him grounded and who he’s never, not once, stopped reaching out for). It’s a reaffirmation of their friendship and growing bond and proof that Katsuki didn’t die out on the battlefield. That he’s right there. That they’re equals. Partners, even.

And when they’re both each others biggest weakness and strongest ally, I’m sure the comfort of just being together would go a long way, too. For once in their lives they could be silly teenagers holding hands while playing a video game or watching a movie or doing homework or taking a walk or-

Just- handholding as a gesture of devotion and safety and new beginnings