New Mha Fic! Basically A Very Silly Toga-is-adopted-by-the-Bakugou's One Shot Featuring Squabbling Six

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."

for my sprint i did 25 minutes total and wrote 1,019 new words for my mha fic Short For Grenade (link to the post explaining this fic concept is here <-). honestly i was typing like a madman for this one

i added a scene set at dagoba beach (which is not covered in trash for the sake of the grenade the dog AU) and finally started writing about grenade's talent for tracking! i had intended to have kota, eri, and the kids from the island show up as characters to bicker with katsuki but ended up just including eri for now

im excited to finally start showing izuku's progress with feeling more at ease around dogs (and having his relationship with katsuki become more friendly as well!)

happy writing everyone!! im so happy to see people participating in this!

Writing sprint tag game!

(Even if you haven’t been tagged, you are happily invited to participate!)

Here’s how the game works:

1) set aside some time to complete a 10-20min writing sprint, breaking up your writing time and break time however you see fit (I’ll prob do 10 min writing, a 5 min break, and then another 5 or 10 min of writing)

*if you want to do a shorter or a longer writing sprint, that’s totally fine too! 10-20min is just a low-pressure guideline

2) complete the sprint!

even if you cringe at the words you put down, the point is simply to get more words on the page than what you started with, so write that awkward sentence! skip that fiddly bit to write the scene you have inspiration for! anything new that ends up on the page is progress and anything you don’t love can always be edited later

3) have fun :)

remember, this sprint is a little nudge to help you reconnect with your creative writing. it’s 100% low-pressure, anything goes, and we’re all in it together 💪

4) share your sprint results

this part is totally optional but if you’d like to play along, reblog this post (or copy-paste the rules into a new post) with as many (or as few) answers as you feel comfortable sharing

*and if you make a new post, pls tag me so i can clap and cheer for you!!

how long was your sprint?

how many words did you write?

*anything more than zero is great!

what project did you complete the sprint for?

what did you end up adding to your WIP (or new project)?

*no need to share specific lines since the sprint’s focus is quantity over quality, but absolutely go wild with the overview. did you add a whole new scene? a new character? important dialogue for character development? a fun side quest you hadn’t planned on? an interesting bit you have no idea what to do with?

what part of your new writing excites you the most?

5) connect with your fellow writeblrs!

tag people in your response post to keep the creative energy flowing and offer encouragement and kudos to those who participate and share their progress!

gently tagging my writing moots to get this started:

@peaceheather @antsday @moody-tortured-artist @agirlandherquill @ohromeoraine @sorrowsfallallaround

shoot me a message or comment if you don't want to be tagged in these sorts of things (or if i haven't tagged you and you would like to be tagged in the future for writing things)

a collection of sketches motivated by the question "what if the abuse happens but Touya stays?"

all grown up

currently experiencing Yatora Yaguchi levels of artistic distress and turmoil ✌️

but don’t they all look so lovely <3 <3

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.

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.)

I’m pretty sure they never show in the anime how they got to class?? But I love the idea that Denki used to show up to UA in his skateboard before they stayed at the dorms, also idk I feel like Bakugo it’s his dad’s baby and he used to take him to class when he wasn’t busy like PLEASE

So today I was thinking about a bkdk fic inspired by the vibes of a song, realized it had tragic implications for bkdk, and then cried. Sorry, what was the question? Do I know how to be normal about things?

Magical Anime Girl- i7 ficlet

genderqueer questioning nagi, pre-slash nagimitsu, based on that one scene where mitsuki tries to throw out all of nagi's merch (943 words)

still looking for an i7 beta reader, esp if you have a good grasp on the character personalities! and ofc id be more than happy to beta some of your stuff in return (for any fandom or original) so message me if interested!

Nagi had thought he’d confessed something, sitting on his knees while Mitsuki stared down with a blinding vengeance from Nagi’s bed, the both of them surrounded by boxes half-filled with his prized Magical Cocona keepsakes. 

Mitsuki had taken Nagi’s trademark magical stick from its place on the wall and brandished it with all the grace of a valiant knight from the stories Nagi’s father used to tell him as a child. Pointing the barrel of the wand at Nagi’s face like a steel-tipped sword, Mitsuki had said, “I know you’re more than just a womanizing anime nerd.”  

The words I know filled Nagi’s ears like static. 

“More than when you’re with girls or watching anime, when you’re dancing with us you smile the brightest.”

I know, I know, I know. 

“I know because I’ve been watching you,” Mitsuki had said, and Nagi thought that maybe he knew, too. 

Maybe he and Mitsuki were the same. 

Mitsuki set aside his sword- the magical stick returned gently to Nagi’s sheets instead of the box of to-be-thrown-out things- and he kneeled, too, bringing their faces close together. All the animosity from earlier felt washed away like the evening tide and Nagi’s water-worn eyes had shone, reflecting back the sudden gentleness he was faced with. 

No one who’d known had ever been gentle about it. 

Mitsuki smiled. 

“Man, you sure are handsome up close.”

The breath of those words on Mitsuki’s lips tipped Nagi further onto his knees like a young tree caught in the throes of a hurricane. 

I know. 

So Nagi steeled his trembling, windswept body and confessed. He’d confessed that he felt beautiful like the magical girl Cocona. Like elegance in velvet dresses and silk ruffles and perfectly pink princesses locked away in high towers, waiting to be rescued. 

(I must confess…I am beautiful.)

Mitsuki frowned, rising suddenly to make a dumpster shot of one of the Magical Cocona figurines displayed by Nagi’s bedside. 

“I was ready to listen but all you wanted to do was brag?” Mitsuki exclaimed incredulously, the words that had escaped Nagi’s lips too cowardly to confess anything at all. 

“I’m a beautiful man,” Nagi tried again. Beautiful, not handsome, but the hard lines in Mitsuki’s forehead clearly said Nagi’s message wasn’t getting through. Mitsuki didn’t really know so Nagi switched tactics, trying his luck with the other truth Mitsuki might have been referring to. “I’ve had girlfriends, but never boyfriends.”

Nagi had never had this. Japanese boys crowding into his space 24/7 and admiring his face, admiring him aloud, kneeling on his bed like a specter of divine judgment and leaning closer than they’d ever really need to be. 

“You’re my first,” Nagi said, hoping that this was known, at least. These secret feelings, barely beginning to bloom, expressed only in the suggestive asides Nagi’s meager vocabulary could manage.  

Nagi realized too late he’d slipped into the plural you but Mitsuki didn’t hesitate in the slightest before correcting the words Nagi had placed so purposefully at his feet, so perhaps this wasn’t the truth Mitsuki knew, either. 

(You mean, your first friends?) 

And the members of idolish7 were Nagi’s first friends, like Mitsuki assumed, so Nagi hung his head and agreed, grateful that his cowardice and incompetence had at least allowed him to retain his dignity a little while longer. 

Nagi had weathered the crashing wave of anger like he always did, misplaced as it was this time, and Mitsuki had gentled once more. 

Then Mitsuki called him cute and helped Nagi right the storm of his room and he smiled when Nagi began explaining the pure perfection that was the MagiCona series and Nagi felt…warm, in a way he didn’t usually allow himself to. 

He softened his body language until he felt more himself, mimicking the easy femininity of the magical anime girls he so admired, and Mitsuki never blinked. So maybe Nagi could allow himself this wordless honesty. Here, in his room spun with silk and safety that Mitsuki had stayed to help him rebuild even if he didn’t know.  

And at night, after MagiCona had aired and everyone else was asleep, Nagi could allow himself- herself? Perhaps themself- to imagine that Mitsuki had known something else and stayed to help Nagi rebuild all the same. 

*

Manager knew, Nagi thought. Or she at least suspected. 

Somehow girls always did, and that was part of why Nagi liked them so much. Tsumugi Takanashi was a beautiful woman, and Nagi told her so often, but he didn’t desire that sort of connection from her. 

“There’s a Magical Cocona themed planner being released today, isn’t there?” Manager asked as they strolled past the Zero arena. “Should we stop at a bookstore after we visit the salon?”

This connection, though- this easy friendship unafraid to wade away from masculinity was something Nagi wouldn’t trade for the world.  

“Oh, yes!” he cheered. “Magical Cocona! Yay!”

And maybe when Nagi found the words for a real confession, Manager would be the first to hear them, her gentle understanding a lighthouse in the swirling storm Nagi would finally admit existed within his head. 

“Are you okay, Nagi-san? You have an odd expression on your face…”

Nagi extended his hand, fingers curling upward, while the other rested gently on his own chest. Manager carefully placed her hand in Nagi’s and laughed as she was twirled, skirt billowing out in a beautiful circle. 

“I’m fantastic!” 

Nagi lightly squeezed Manager’s hand before letting go. 

“As long as you’re sure,” she said. 

“I am,” Nagi replied, smiling. “We’re going to get Magical Cocona today!”

And the baby steps were important. The magical girl Cocona assured him of this.