Do You Ever Feel Like An Awful Writer Who Shouldn’t Pursue The Craft And Then You Take A Breath And

in 2025 i'd like to write a full, first draft of my WIP Forest Fire (working title) and I think some external motivation would be a great push for me to keep engaging with my piece on a regular schedule! soo, what would you guys like to see me post by the end of january?

"this lasting pain"

Katsuki Bakugou has reflected on that singular river incident for too long for him and Deku not to have a hand holding/grabbing moment before the manga ends

Hori make it real 😤 (the oracle said you have to)

Happy Holidays!!❤️

@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.

Sigh why is plot so hard 😔

hi!

i figured it was about time I do a blog intro, so hello! its so lovely to have you here! I'm bi_focal on ao3 and this blog is a mix of writing content, fandom, and fake tweets :)

Writing content can be found under the #writeblr tag (which includes fanfic updates) and my most recent fics are:

-Little Troubles (Itadori & Sukuna, WIP)

-summer daze (katsuki-centric Coraline AU, WIP)

-this rabbit has fainted (bkdk, complete)

The fandoms I'm mostly active in rn are MHA, idolish7, & JJK but there are plenty more that will probably make appearances as well

The fake tweets I make are for MHA and i7 (mostly MHA) and they’re under both #fake tweets and #incorrect quotes (*and these are rated teen for language and occasional innuendos!)

I'd love to interact with you, especially about writing things, so feel free to send me an ask!!

hi!!! if ur comfortable: what's your favorite book of all time (and why), and if you had to choose between only being able to use escalators or only using elevators for the rest of your life, which would u pick?

hope ur having a nice day <3

hello! :)

this one stumped me for a minute but my favorite book of all time would have to be Seven Brief Lessons on Physics by Carlo Rovelli (and ik how that sounds but stay with me here). It’s non-fiction but the prose is so beautiful and the author’s voice so clear that it doesn’t read at all like a textbook or a lecture, and it has such a warm, optimistic tone that I find it really uplifting and I re-read it sometimes when I need a pick-me-up.

im usually not much of a re-reader but it helps that this one is only about 80 pages. its also kind of nostalgic bc I picked it up when I was going through a rough time and it got me out of a very long reading slump.

overall I’m mainly a fiction reader but narrowing down my favorite of those feels pretty impossible

as far as escalators vs elevators, escalators are definitely much more fun but I’d hate to have to climb the stairs of a super tall building so for the sake of my poor legs I think I’d have to go with elevators

thanks for the ask! I hope you’re having a good day too <33

drew the sillies again