Writing Sprint Tag Game!

To make the rain go away

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

Day 1 for the March 50k novel writing challenge I'm running on my sideblog (@bi-focal15):

Introduce yourself/your WIP/your writing goals/ your writing schedule and/or whatever else you please :)

Bonus: create a writing affirmation for the month!

Hi, I'm bi_focal! The WIP I'm focusing on for this challenge is actually based off of a writing prompt I did awhile ago (that you can see here) and most of my writing will be concentrated in the evenings

My affirmation is: It doesn't have to be good, it just has to exist

Stuffff

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

MHA tweets pt.8

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."

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.

Since Re:vale was very poor during the start of their career, can you do an ff where Momo and Yuki can't afford heating so they cuddle to sleep (or even if the heat is on, it's still very cold.) I attempted it myself and let's just say it turned out very sad (and they did not cuddle. I can't seem to write happy things.) The themes are fluff with sad feelings.

It's only a request so please do it if you feel comfortable.

ofc! thanks so much for the request :) fic under the cut

author's note: this ended up being a lot longer than i planned but i really enjoyed the challenge of balancing fluff and angst. apologies if it's not quite sad enough. there's some handwavy canon stuff about yuki's past that i invented to suit the story but otherwise i tried to keep it universe-accurate and toyed with how the married couple routine they use might create some mental/emotional distance between re:vale despite their physical closeness (overall its still pretty mushy though lol). i sincerely hope you enjoy it @iamokay13 !

Yuki stirred when he heard the front door click open, awkwardly dragging the heavy blankets he’d cocooned himself in away from his face. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. 

“Who’s there?”

Momo responded with a breathy laugh, struggling audibly with the door. 

“Who do you think?”  

Groggily, Yuki heaved himself onto his elbows to peek over the back of the couch, chin pillowed on the scratchy cushion. He spied at least three plastic bags hanging from Momo’s arms, their contents swinging wildly as he attempted to pull the door shut with his foot, hands busy balancing a tower of mismatched tupperware that promised them warm dinners throughout the week. The only thing indicating it was Momo at all was the hint of blue hair poking out over the top. 

“Hello sentient tupperware,” Yuki murmured, slumping back down onto the couch. 

The door clicked shut. 

“Yes!”

Yuki blinked despondently up at the popcorn ceiling. 

“The heater’s still broken. Landlord won’t fix it until next week.”

“No!” Momo cried, followed by the sound of what must be twenty plastic containers tumbling out of his arms and onto their kitchen counter. “Can’t you, I don’t know, seduce him or something to get it fixed faster?”

Yuki raised a pale eyebrow, aware that Momo wouldn’t be able to see it from this angle and confident that he’d sense it all the same. 

“The only person that would work on is you.”

“But you’re so handsome!”

Yuki pulled the blankets back over his face. Muffled, he asked, “Any luck with your savings? He might call maintenance sooner if we can pay half.”

Momo laughed awkwardly, their fridge humming open and shut. 

“If by savings you mean my old piggy bank, then we’re 2700 yen richer.”

Yuki sighed. 

“I think my mom’s decided that we’re starving artists-”

“We are starving artists,” Yuki interrupted bluntly. 

“-so she sent me home with like, the whole kitchen. You weren’t even there and she was all Yuki darling is too skinny these days, practically skin and very handsome bones, he really ought to be eating more, and then I was all-”

“She calls me darling, too?”

“No, I’m exaggerating for effect, darling. Now shh.” 

With a soft gasp, Yuki suddenly bolted up from the couch. “Did you hear that?”

Momo froze with wide eyes, one hand on the handle of their most-intact cabinet. “Hear wha-”

“Shh!” Yuki insisted, draping himself partly over the back of the couch to ensure Momo remained still and quiet while his eyes darted suspiciously over the apartment. 

“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Momo whispered fearfully. 

“Maybe,” Yuki whispered back, holding a finger over his lips. “Listen.”

Without the hum of the heating unit permeating the small space, the apartment was chillingly silent. In fact, if Yuki focused, he could almost make out the fearful thud of Momo’s heart as he stood frozen, poised in anticipation and ready to-

“Ah,” Yuki sighed, smiling slightly and dragging his blankets further up his shoulders. “The sound of peace and quiet.”

Momo practically sagged in relief, even as he grabbed their kitchen towel and hurled it towards Yuki where they both watched it flutter harmlessly to the ground. 

“You handsome jerk!” 

Momo’s sister’s initials were still sewn into the corner, right next to the burn mark Yuki had caused attempting to soften butter in their microwave. The mark she didn’t know about, and wouldn’t ever I’d Yuki had anything to say about it. 

Slowly, Yuki asked, “Is this what the tabloids would call a lover’s quarrel?” 

“Hmph!” Momo complained, turning his head away with a performative frown. 

Blankets dragging behind himself, Yuki moved to sit across from Momo at the kitchen island, falling easily into the back and forth they were developing for their stage personas. 

“The next time Mr. Shimooka-san invites us for an interview, I’m gonna tell the whole world you keep trying to give me heart attacks,” Momo declared, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. 

Yuki braced his elbow on the countertop, prepared to pillow his chin on his palm with a suggestive smile and a heart-pounding innuendo, when he jerked away from the cold sensation instead, flailing his blanket cape to keep from falling off the stool entirely. 

“No you won’t,” Yuki said instead once he’d regained his balance, pulling a corner of the fabric over his heat-stained cheeks. 

Momo continued to move around the kitchen, pulling things down from various cabinets and drawers and fiddling with the microwave with his back turned, humming a popular song about karma. 

Yuki could hear the smile in his voice. 

“No I won’t,” Momo agreed softly, spinning on his heel a few moments later and placing a warm plate of curry in front of Yuki. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Ye-”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Momo interrupted, waving his finger in front of Yuki’s face. “Don’t forget I know what your lying face looks like, darling! Your eyes get all sneaky.”

Yuki frowned, readjusting the blanket around himself while he poked at his food, only belatedly realizing that he had been hungry. 

“I thought my eyes were handsome?”

Where Yuki expected a wide smile to bloom over Momo’s face and gushing compliments to follow, he found only guilt when he glanced upward. 

Yuki tensed. “Why are you-”

“Yuki I forgot to tell you I wiretapped the apartment for a TV show,” Momo admitted in a rush. 

“You what?” Yuki exclaimed, jumping off of the stool, face burning as he looked frantically around the room. “When did you-?”

Momo laughed, rounding the counter to place an obnoxious kiss to Yuki’s still-burning cheek. “Got you back, Yu-ki.”

“You..” Yuki made an incoherent sound of relief, coated with surprise and displeasure both as he melted to the ground, thumb subtly brushing warmth over the skin Momo’s lips had pressed against. It was just an act, Yuki reminded himself. In spite of the closed doors, it was still just an act. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” Yuki whispered, burying his face in his hands. 

“Cheer up, darling!” Momo cooed, flopping onto the couch and gathering Yuki’s other, abandoned blankets around himself. “Finish your meal so we can be warm together.”

“I think I’ll die.”

“But how could I go on living without your handsome eyes to look at?” Momo complained. 

Yuki sighed, deciding to remain crouched on the ground for a few moments longer while he looked around the sorry state of their apartment- shared, for the sake of rent, and still their fridge was only full of borrowed tupperware and little else. A few of their cabinets wouldn’t shut properly, the hot water never lasted for more than ten minutes at a time, and the only reason they had furniture in the first place, threadbare as it was, is because the previous renter had left it all behind. 

And now the heater was broken in the middle of winter. 

“At this rate, neither of us is gonna last too long.” 

Momo’s voice was quieter when he asked how their ticket pre-sale was going. 

“We’ve filled maybe a tenth of the seats,” Yuki replied, rising slowly to return to his plate of curry, determined to fill his gut with warmth instead of dread. 

“But we go on this Saturday,” Momo pointed out, his head popping up over the back of the couch with concern. “And that’s…how much would that pay us?”

Yuki shrugged, moving around his food with the spoon as he ran sums in his head. “About enough to pay for the venue, I think. Maybe pocket change for us.”

Momo collapsed back onto the couch with a soft, wheezing thud, and Yuki thought he probably had his hands cupped over his face. Momo always did that when he was stressed. 

“Was it…was it this hard when you and Ban-san started out?” Momo asked in a small voice and Yuki took a moment to consider the question. 

“Yes and no,” he finally answered, poking at his plate. “For some of that first year, I was still connected to my parents bank account and I lived at home so there was no food or rent to pay for. However, drawing a crowd is always difficult in the beginning.” Yuki shrugged, tightening the blanket around his shoulders. “The music speaks for itself, but it takes time for people to listen. There’s a lot of noise in the world.”

“Right,” Momo murmured quietly. “Right,” he repeated, seemingly more to himself than to Yuki. “It’s just time.”

Yuki frowned. “Why do you sound so-?”

“Maybe I should get a job!” Momo interrupted, the sudden cheer in his voice throwing Yuki off kilter. 

“What?” Yuki asked. “But you have a job. It’s…us. We’re the job.”

“No, Yuki darling. A part-time one. I’ve…I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately but the place I was working at during college isn’t hiring at the moment so I circled a few of the listings in the paper to check out.”

“You what?”

Yuki set his spoon down in favor of spinning yesterday’s newspaper towards himself and flipping towards the section for job listings, finding Momo’s signature scrawl all over the place- dotted with frowny face notes for places that had already managed to fill the positions they were advertising for. Question marks and clumsy stars were littered near the others. 

“You’ve already started calling,” Yuki realized. 

“Mm,” Momo said. “It makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

Yuki swatted the newspaper to the counter, shifting on the barstool to glare accusingly at the couch blocking Momo from view. 

“I could've talked to-”

“I know,” Momo interrupted, voice soothing and sure of himself. “But you’re the one who writes all the music, Yuki. I don’t know a lot about it like Ban-san, so the best I can do is make you tea while you work and…” Momo cut himself off with a light chuckle, something self-deprecating in the sticky sweetness of it. “Well, it just makes more sense for me to be the one to work, y’know?”

“I-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Momo scolded again, but without the polished finger waved in Yuki’s face and the usual pleased amusement behind the sound, it grated against Yuki’s ears. “Don’t lie, darling. You’re too handsome for that.”

Yuki huffed unhappily and reached for the sharpie Momo had left out on the counter, quickly scanning through the circled listings and crossing out all of the ones that would have Momo working late hours or doing a lot of manual labor. If Momo was going to twist Yuki’s arm about this, there was no way he’d allow Momo to work a job he’d hate. 

When Yuki finished, he found the listings Momo had been okay with slashed in nearly an even half. 

“Stupid,” Yuki muttered beneath his breath.

“Cold,” Momo corrected from the couch. 

Sighing like he’d been asked to take a thirty minute drive for Momo’s favorite gingerbread muffins, Yuki rose from his seat with his blanket billowing behind him and wandered toward Momo, whose lips were ticking up at the corners. 

Yuki frowned in retaliation, well aware that he probably looked ridiculous, before collapsing face-first into his outstretched, waiting arms. 

Momo sighed in contentment as he rearranged the blankets around the both of them to seal in what little body heat they produced, squeezing Yuki close to his chest once he was satisfied. 

Yuki allowed it, content to pretend that he hadn’t intended for them to end up like this in the first place by strategically waiting for Momo on the couch. 

“So cozy,” Momo cooed, running his hand up and down Yuki’s back- smoothing and rucking up the fabric in slow, even strokes. “We even have a fireplace.”

Yuki raised his head skeptically. 

“Is the cold getting to your head? Because-”  

Grinning wide, Momo’s eyes flicked to the wobbly coffee table beside them. 

Yuki followed his gaze and let out an amused scoff, eyes rolling, because Momo’s phone was propped against Yuki’s stack of songwriting folders, showing a bright, burning fireplace. 

“You’re stupid,” Yuki murmured lightly, tucking his face against Momo’s neck where his growing smile wouldn’t be found, pressing the cold tip of his nose to his partner’s racing pulsepoint.  

“I’m your stupid,” Momo whispered back, tightening the clasp of his arms around Yuki’s back. 

Momo’s body was soft and warm underneath him, the lingering unease in Yuki’s stomach lulled into peacefulness where it was pressed against his partner’s like the first, cautious snow against the ground. 

Yuki closed his eyes. 

He could be happy like this, Yuki thought. Even with the heater broken. Even with the apartment slowly falling to ribbons around them while they sang to empty venues. Even with the act reminding Yuki what they were not to each other, as long as Momo was here.

With him.

“Sleep, darling.”

As long as Momo would- 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Momo promised quietly, twining a tentative hand into Yuki’s hair like he could scoop the errant thought from his head and, despite himself, Yuki felt himself relax.

The setting and style of Forest Fire has been fighting me a little, and I think I might be able to fix that if I lean more into the style of gothic fiction. I don’t know if the whole genre of my piece will shift as I write it out more, but it’s certainly a fun place to take inspiration from!