omg ur writing is so good like how have i never heard of u before
-seafloor509 (im asking anon bc if i ask regularly itll show up as smth else and i dont want that)
(also u liked my ONE ONLY post so i came and found u and like ong ur writing is so t a s t e f u l)
thanks so much!! that really made my day :,)
and yes i remember your piece! i really enjoyed reading it. you have a strong voice and the atmosphere was really interesting
“But my writing’s not good like-” Comparison is the thief of joy. Comparison is the thief of joy. Comparison is the thief of joy.
The urge to bother my mutuals
Izuku Midoriya is such a cutie pie what do you meeean i only get three more chapters of him being in situations :(
MHA tweets pt.21- 🕸️Halloween special pt.2 🕸️ +bonus poll
if the drawing wasn't rigged in the bakusquad's favor, what costume would you want to win?
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
Hello! 👋 💌
BI-FOCAL!!!!! man where to begin? you're such a sweet person and your work always makes me smile when i see it on my dash. your writing has a really cozy, warm feel to it, like a really nice hug, and istg i re-read your fics over and over again because of how nice it is. you're also hilarious. your mha tweet series has had me in stitches multiple times atp!! im so happy we're mutuals <3333
Hi everyone! Now that there are a few more people joining, I wanna re-cast this poll to double check we're all on the same page! Original post with all the details is here, and if anyone seeing this is interested in joining you are more than welcome to! pls just leave a comment to lmk :)
Also! Now would be a good time to start thinking about how you typically spend the hours in your day so you can decide how to best incorporate writing time into your schedule in March (personally, im gonna have to spend a lot less time aimlessly scrolling and procrastinating schoolwork lol)
Options for the platform to coordinate this on are:
1- tumblr
2- discord
If you vote for #1 and want this challenge to use the tumblr communities feature pls leave a comment specifying your preference!
taglist for participants: @queengmine2crayon @bluedaelyn @caffinatedcastiel @spookylittlemegan @brightshaw-shipper @superabi1997 @lauravanarendonkbaugh @relentlesslycravingsummer @mayarii-darling
*shoot me a comment if you'd like to be added or dropped from the taglist
@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.