Touya And Shoto’s Friends

"Remember when we met

We acted like two fools

We were so glad

So glad to have found it

That love is like a star"

I set out to write at least a little bit every day in December and I managed to complete 27/31 days! I think this challenge really helped me identify some of my weaknesses and strengths as a writer and I’m proud of the work I put in

Hopefully I’ll be able to share a lot more of my writing with you all in 2025! Happy new year everyone <3

How the gentle wind, beckons through the leaves~

Lately I'm having a lot of fun working on prompts and the mha first kiss gift exchange! Here's a bkdk snippet from one of the prompt responses (for context, it's set in the middle of summer)

“You’re thinking something sweet,” Deku murmured, poking at the soft center of Katsuki’s cheek and then drawing a gentle line down the bridge of his nose.  “No ‘m not,” Katsuki said. “Sweaty ass.” Deku pinched Katsuki’s nose closed, then laughed when Katsuki elbowed him in mild retaliation.  “You are too,” Deku insisted. “You’re making that face.” Katsuki scowled. “What face?” Deku tapped the space between Katsuki’s eyebrows and Katsuki stared at the blue-green veins now taking up most of his field of vision.    “The one where you don’t have any frown lines here. And your eyes go all soft. And the corners of your mouth start to do this wobbly thing that-” “Alright, alright,” Katsuki complained, swatting Deku’s hand away from his face and its apparently numerous tells. “I get the point already shithead, now quit touching my sweat. It’s a fucking fire hazard.” Deku shoved himself more insistently into Katsuki’s side, nose squishing flat where it was pressed against the top of Katsuki’s ribcage.  “Not unless you detonate.” Like this, Deku’s voice had a muffled, slightly nasally quality and Katsuki felt the corners of his lips wobble with the want to smile.

the baby lore

This is my first time participating in flash fiction friday but I had a lot of fun, thanks so much for the prompt! @flashfictionfridayofficial

Content Warning: suggestive content

Title: Slip | WC: 591

The moon is bright when Margaret's hand draws me into wakefulness.

Her cold fingertips press against my arm like piano keys- tap, tap, tapping a scale that brings goosebumps to the surface and bores her the second my skin grows used to the touch.

She smiles, a finger raised to her lips, and I remember that Margaret has the prettiest teeth I've ever seen. Pearly and straight and not at all afraid to bear down until I bruise. The memory blooms before my eyes as I watch her sway around the room, picking up her hairbrush, then a headband. The echo of her perfect press of lips will linger in the days to come like a love letter and ache in all the ways that I do when she's not around.

"It's late," I murmur, sparing a glance towards my alarm clock.

Margaret continues to dance like I hadn't said a thing and I continue to watch her, content to swallow down the sentiment.

What did late matter when Margaret was drawing closer with those eyes, leaning down to pluck the observation from behind my teeth like sweet oranges in the summertime? What was the hour compared to the way Margaret crept out of the room with my breath still caught in her lungs?

The floor creaks under my weight when I slip from the bed- a clumsy cat to Margaret's graceful creeping- and I follow her humming out of the bedroom.

Here, the moon peers in like a voyeur and bathes Margaret, elbow to hip, in her soft and hazy glow. Margaret's slip is practically sheer. Pathetically mesmerizing.

My pajamas are threadbare, but they cling to her echoing touch in all the right ways and I can't help but take a few steps forward, hand outstretched and hesitating half an inch before her hip.

"Marg," I say, then I stop. Swallow. "Margaret," I try again.

"That's my name," she whispers back.

My fingers catch in the hole against my own hip, instead.

Don't wear it out, I think. But I don't think a name like Margaret could ever be worn out when it's used for a girl like her.

"Margaret," I croon slowly.

She rolls her eyes with another, secretive, almost-smile, eyes glinting in the low light. I'm close enough to see the way the moon colors her eyelashes silver.

She waltzes into the kitchen and I get the feeling I'm supposed to wait, so I do. I pick up humming the tune Margaret had begun, drifting toward the window to play with the curtain hem, unable to put together a picture based on the sounds she's leaving behind.

I imagine the curtain is Margaret's slip, instead. They're almost the same color.

"Is this what you wanted, Beth?" Margaret calls out, voice cutting through the empty space between us like she's right beside me.

I drift forward toward the kitchen, smiling, still rubbing the sleep from my eye, and the expression wobbles like a figure skater on the ice- spinning, spinning, spinning.

The eggs are on the floor. The ones that she bought.

Margaret's coat is gone from the rack.

"I really tried, you know?"

Yolks spill slowly out of their fragile shells, bathed in a refrigerator halo, trembling under the weight of the front door- closed, firmly.

Unlocked.

Margaret's key is still hanging by the door.

Spinning...spinning...spinning...

Something wobbles, something burns, and I'm crouched down beside the eggs, my father's voice in my head and Margaret's perfume on my skin, already fading.

Don't wear it out, I think again.

chaos club

Psych (2006) really is just "Hi, we're detectives with the police department, and here's this weird guy who follows us around. No we can't stop him. We like him. Also here's his best friend. We can't stop him either. We tried."

fembkdk my beloved

24hr Novel Challenge: day 2 results

My total is currently up to 11hrs and 12,139 words

For today, specifically: 7 hours/ 7,110 words

Started feeling pretty fatigued around hour 6 but I’m happy with the work I was able to put in today!