#posting for a new fandom is fkn terrifying lmao

[ddelline]

wip wednesday (feat fresh fandom f*ckery)

blurb | "non-jjk wip posting? on the ddelline/aosc dash? straight to jail" - whoever reads this blog for jjk fic only, probably. sry if you are!!! I promise this =/= abandoning ship, I'm just dillying, dallying, dabbling. in mha. and bkdk. next to jjk that's where I've ended up putting my most obsessive behavior in the past few months; dipped my toe into the manga and emerged 4 months later as an unapologetic bakugō katsuki defender w early onset of bkdk brainrot. now if that interests you, there's wip fic to be had under the cut! if it doesn't, then rest assured that there'll be wip updates a-comin for 3 jjk projects in the near future, lol

premise | post-canon, pro hero setting; slow burn-ish getting together-premise; bkdk as roommates & established wonder duo-partners feat pro hero!shenanigans, sudden emotional realizations, domesticity, action, mixed media & more - also me attempting 2 write lighter, snarkier & dramedy-adjacent. evaluation pending, lmao. either way, wip writing under the cutttt

The sort of monumental, life-altering understanding that Katsuki’s experiencing, sadly, hadn’t hit him like a battering ram of iridescent, incandescent realization, topped off with cartoon hearts and biblical choirs, or whatever. The march towards death had begun with the most inane fucking single step, and here he is, feeling like an idiot, and feeling, like an idiot, every other hour since then. 

Katsuki knows he’s not the most emotionally intelligent person on the block, and he knows that he’s hitting new and consistent deduction-lows when it comes to him-and-Izuku each and every day now. Still, if there’s the possibility of getting a refund on your personal emotional breakthroughs—he’d like one.

He’s ducking beneath hastily drawn police tape, sweat sticky and sooty, hours later, making a beeline towards where the concrete dust-matte green cap of Izuku’s head centers a cluster of reporters. They’ve caught him halfway to where a team of EMTs are waiting, long suffering, to attend to him. Katsuki resists the urge to facepalm.

“—stically, how would you analyze this recent string of public showdowns that you’ve had to deal with? Do you make anything of the increased number of hostile villain encounters you’ve had in the past weeks?”

Izuku scratches his scalp, upsetting a few errant curls. “Y’know, I wouldn’t think much of them, in the sense you’re probably thinking of them. It’s true there have been a few major ‘public showdowns’, as you say,” God bless him (curse him, actually) but he actually makes double quotations to go along. “There’s a common denominator here, what you’re talking about—it’s the arrests you’ve featured on the evening segment a few times. Right?”

Izuku’s suit is torn: a jagged ugly line bisects his hero garb and compression sleeve from mid-tricep to mid-forearm. It’s displaying an ugly gash frothing with blood. As the clump of broadcast-vultures chuckle in tandem he continues—seemingly ignorant of his injury and Katsuki’s impending arrival both—gesticulating animatedly, “Any hostile confrontations we experience whilst on patrol would technically categorize as ‘public showdowns’, but we’ve had—oh, Kacch—Dynamight!”

It’s a scene like any other, on a kind of-interchangeable end of patrol-day: they’ve just squashed an armed robbery-slash-hostage situation, had half a block rupture beneath them during the ensuing chase (neither of them are at fault, Katsuki’ll have their insurance carrier know) and are now stuck doing the obligatory clean-up-and-press-junket half hour. Izuku’s elbow is bleeding something fierce whilst he’s talking to reporters; he’s clasping both palms and twining his fingers, untwines them and raises both arms to gesticulate; lowers his hands and re-clasps his palms—all as he does when he’s faced with press and has to talk ad hoc for extended periods of time.

None of this is particularly out of the ordinary; despite it or in spite of, Katsuki doesn’t know—the amalgamation of the above turns out to be why, when three mic’d up reporters make a narrow path into the cluster for Katsuki to enter into the throng, his first instinct, his knee-jerk reaction, is to be angry.

Izuku clasps his far shoulder. Katsuki shrugs his hand off and ducks near his ear. “You’re injured.”

“Huh? I’m not?” says Izuku quizzically. He looks around and about himself. Katsuki clocks the second he notices his own elbow: the spasm of a lone muscle in his cheek, the embarrassed grit of his jaw—the if you squeal in front of the press you die-look he spears Katsuki with before turning back to the pack. 

Izuku continues, bleeding but thoughtful: “What was I saying? Oh, yeah—I couldn’t talk about the ‘public showdowns’, as you say, without mentioning that any and all hostile confrontations we face on patrol belong to the same statistic. Really, they’re the same as they’ve always been—I wouldn’t say anything’s decreased or increased since a few years. Right?” He squares Katsuki with an inquisitive look.

Katsuki fights the urge to bare his teeth; he sucks down a deep breath, counts to five, and indulges his vulture-friendly maniac of a hero partner. “Because I’m not fucking lame I’m not gonna echo Pinky and say: ‘Another day, another slay.’” A few errant chuckles from the crowd; yeah, Katsuki’s a fucking comedian. “With that said, yeah, what Deku said—I dunno who was on site two days ago, DHN? JNN? JHT? I see all of you nodding, whatever; doesn’t matter—you’re drawing conjecture based on what you see. Shit happens when you’re not here, too.” Katsuki eyeballs the keeper of the JHT mic. “That doesn’t mean shit is happening. Not sure what the point of this is, but not everything’s a damn story—so I’m gonna take Hero Deku—” Katsuki snags Izuku by the collar, “—and go somewhere not where you lot are. He’s bleeding and you’re not. That’s not the end of the world either, in case that’s the doomsday headline you wanna draw up. That’s all. Scatter, fuckers!”

Izuku pouts when Katsuki drags him backwards through the clamoring throng of reporters. “We could’ve done a few more questions.”

Katsuki thinks: I knew I was fine dying for this asshole years ago.

Katsuki says: “We could’ve. We aren’t, though. Fuckface, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

Izuku glances down at himself. “It’s not that bad.”

“No? Tell that to the medteam, who’ll be the ones to explain to the public why unfortunately, due to erroneous judgment on the patient’s part, Pro Hero Deku lost mobility in his left arm a scant four years into his illustrious Symbol of Hope-era.” Katsuki squares him with a thin glare. “Also—tell that to your mom, who wants to put you on a direct flight to an isolated Siberian bunker where you can’t hurt yourself—she’s got a point.”

Izuku eyeballs him. “Kacchan,” he intones, “You’re overly dramatic sometimes.”

“Izuku,” Katsuki mocks, “You’re overly self-sacrificial all the time. Shut up and go see the EMTs.”

The march towards death had begun with the most inane fucking single step, and here he is, feeling, like an idiot, thinking: I knew I was fine dying for this asshole before I knew I was in dumb fucking love with him.

Well, go figure.

#help!!!! #posting for a new fandom is fkn terrifying lmao #this isn't even ao3 post-ready #still #shaking a lil in my boots #wip wednesday #fic: halcyon (on and on and on) #fandom: mha #fandom: my hero academia #fic #my writing #bkdk #bakudeku #work: fic

[wewouldbeheroes]

could you talk about some of your favourite people? I want to try and spread some love in this fandom of discourse

oH MAMA! Sit back because I fucking love love!!! Obviously, we have @the-pink-one-so-terrify who is probably the love of my life. She doesn’t know it yet tho! ;) She’s incredibly intelligent and intuitive. She pushes me as a person and a writer and I don’t know where I’d be without her! I’d do anything for this bitch. @floraltrixie my welsh twin! We are the same fkn person except she’d a little brat who rejected me (im kidding ily baby)! We have the same birthday, same computer, the same upbringing (in a sense), and I’m really glad I accidentally met her LMAO@lulufeca Listen, if you don’t know this absolute, adorable bean, you’re fucked. She supports each and every one of us and she’s so kind and caring. I don’t know where this fic would be without her good support. @trixies-clinical-depression-2 this lil bean who has been supporting and loving me everyday. She sends me hopeful little messages and my heart just !!!! @chantiemaya shes so lovely. I support her whole-heartedly and if you ever need someone to tell you some amazing stories and just chat, go to her!@trixyavelour my silent supporter. She sends me asks and is so, so, so kind to me. I love her! @jushvixen this loser never texts me back, but she is very sweet and showers me in love and affection that i don’t deserve. I love her sweet ass and she knows it. @katyazigowalawala someone new in my life, but she is very, very, very kind and understanding. I stan and support her. She’s always trying to be kind and better herself@overlyawestruckdane ANOTHER SILENT SUPPORTER! Always supporting my blog and it literally makes my heart go !!!! Thank you baby! @theansweristechnology AURORRRRRAAAAAAA IM SORRY! I’m awful at getting in touch with this bab, but she is BEYOND kind and lets me fkn rant! I love you, I’ll make good on calling you, I promise!!! @mmmaho my bean, my baby! Always here for her commentary and putting up with my bullshit posts. Gotta love a real qween, amiright??Can��t forget Fidelio 😉😉😉😉 a hoe that needs to expose themself.There’s literally SO many of you. I could go on for days, but these are people I’ve spoken to most recently so they are fresh in my mind!!!