i watched that hallmark movie "three wise men and a baby" with my mom tonight and had this little bkdk brain worm. please enjoy.
bkdk meet cute (but really it's a meet awkward) (they make it work)
“I cannot fucking believe you’re doing this to me.”
“Doing what?” Denki replied glibly, palming through a handful of bills as he checked and rechecked the cash register in front of him.
Katsuki leaned forward, bracing his hands on the thin stretch of countertop separating them, gratified to notice Denki taking a small step backward.
“Ruining my fucking life.”
Denki sighed, lowering his hands as he finally turned to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “It’s just for the day,” he promised, “and you lost rock paper scissors fair and square!”
“I didn’t know the stakes!” Katsuki shot back.
Denki rolled his eyes as he pushed the cash register closed and ducked behind the counter, returning with the source of the awful squawking that had been invading Katsuki’s eardrums since the second he set foot in Denki’s stupid bookstore.
“Sir Papolapodous isn’t even that much work.”
“Sir what?”
“Welcome in!” Denki called, responding to the chime of the front door while Katsuki continued to stare down the bright yellow monstrosity being carted off on him for the afternoon.
As if sensing its imminent doom, the bird began messing with the door to its cage.
“Just watch out,” Denki continued, “sometimes he likes to-”
Katsuki ducked as the bird launched itself out of the cage.
“...escape.”
“What the fuck?” Katsuki shouted, pressing his knuckles to his cheek where the damn thing had scratched him. His fingers came back bloody. “Oi, I’m not watching your stupid flying machete for-”
“Here!” Denki said, hastily rifling into another bag sitting on the countertop and retrieving some sort of pellet thing that he balanced on Katsuki’s shoulder. “He’ll come to you! Watch!”
Katsuki froze. “Hey, I don’t want that thing anywhere near-”
“Sir Papolapodous!” Denki cheered happily, eyes somewhere beyond Katsuki’s right shoulder. Katsuki tensed.
The demon landed easily on his shoulder, snatching up the pellet and chirping loudly in Katsuki’s ear. Like a threat. Right beside Katsuki’s vulnerable, jugular-having throat.
“Aw,” Denki cooed. “He likes you!”
“I’ll roast him,” Katsuki warned. “Don’t you leave me with it.”
Denki gently pushed the bag from earlier towards Katsuki. “I left you instructions.”
“Stab. Pluck. Spin over fire.”
The bird nudged Katsuki’s cheek and Katsuki flinched away, jerking his shoulder to dislodge the pest.
The bird ignored his efforts.
“Seriously, Katsuki,” Denki whined, pressing his palms together, “I need to go to the dentist but I’ll be back before close and- hey, maybe some of the customers will get a kick out of seeing him!”
“Yeah, if they like their books covered in shit,” Katsuki complained.
“No, no, he’s cage-trained,” Denki promised, untying his worker’s apron and hanging it up behind the counter. “Take good care of my son please!”
Katsuki made a face of utter disbelief. “Hey, I agreed to watch your stupid store, loser. Not to become a fucking Wild Kratt!”
Denki quickly hopped over the counter and out of Katsuki’s reach.
“Two in one package!”
The bell rang loudly in Katsuki’s ears as Denki completed his cowardly retreat.
“Fucking asshole,” Katsuki muttered. “Cavity-ridden, dead-brain, no-good, ass-”
“Excuse me?” someone said politely.
Katsuki spun on his heel- perhaps a shade too quickly, or perhaps with too much bird launching off his shoulder because the customer fell flat on their ass with a startled shout, leaving Katsuki awkwardly looming over them.
“Ow.”
Belatedly, Katsuki leaned down to offer his hand.
The demon watched them from atop the nearest shelf of books.
“I- I’m so sorry,” the guy stammered out, straightening his wire-rim glasses and reaching gratefully for Katsuki’s hand. “I- I really wasn’t expecting that.”
“‘S no problem,” Katsuki replied, curiously shelving the guy’s meekness next to his solid, heavy build as he hauled him up. His hands were incredibly scarred and calloused for someone who jumped at the sight of house pets- demonic or not- but Katsuki supposed he’d give him a pass, considering Katsuki’s own near-death experience was still dripping down his face. “Don’t think anybody expects to get dive bombed by a parakeet on a Sunday morning. Unless you’re a fucking vet or something, I guess.”
“That- that’s true,” the guy said, stumbling a bit as Katsuki righted him, one hand landing briefly on Katsuki’s chest.
With his head ducked in embarrassment, the guy only came up to Katsuki’s chin but even so, he looked like he could give Katsuki a run for his money on the sparring mat. Katsuki was just about to ask what kind of workouts the did when the guy murmured,
“Pecs.”
Katsuki blinked. “Pecks?”
The guy’s head snapped up towards Katsuki’s, wide-eyed and pale in his freckled face.
“God dammit, did that thing fucking peck you?” Katsuki groaned, turning to glare at the preening beast. “‘Cause I can give you a fucking discount on whatever you came in here for before I string him up by his stupid little talons.”
“Wha-? Ah, no! No, no, no,” the guy assured, frantically waving his hands in front of himself.
Large hands, Katsuki noticed. One of which had been resting warmly over Katsuki’s shirt a moment ago.
“That won’t be necessary!”
“Then why’d you-?”
“Pet!” the guy corrected, freckles now washed out by a steady shade of pink. “I’m a…pet…” His eyes darted nervously to the left before snapping back to Katsuki. “...therapist.”
His eyes were a very fucking bright shade of green.
Katsuki blinked slowly as he registered the words that had come out of Greenie’s mouth- taking in the embarrassed tilt to the guy’s lips. His fitted T-shirt. His obnoxiously bright red shoes. Frankly, he looked like he got dressed in the dark.
Katsuki wet his lips. “A pet therapist,” he repeated blandly.
“Ah..mhm,” the guy said, nodding. “So, um, so the dive bombings really aren’t that odd,” he added, tacking on an airy laugh.
Katsuki continued to stare at him, because clearly one of them had taken on major brain damage in the past five minutes, and considering that this guy’s shirt said tuxedo and had a growing hole along the shoulder seam, Katsuki really hoped it wasn’t himself.
The man gestured vaguely to the shelf behind him. “That’s really a lovely bird you’ve got there, um…?”
“Katsuki,” he supplied.
“Izuku,” the man smiled, offering out his hand. “Izuku Midoriya.”
Warily, Katsuki shook it. “...Pet therapist,” he repeated.
“Yup!” Izuku said in a high voice, smiling wider. “That’s me. Therapizing the pets.”
“Right,” Katsuki replied, because what the fuck was even happening, “well, if you’re looking for a book, we uh…have them.”
Internally, Katsuki cringed. Then he sent a seething, telepathic complaint to Denki because Katsuki had been fired from his one and only customer service job at fifteen and the universe had never made the mistake of putting him in that position ever again for a reason.
Fucking rock paper scissors.
“Right,” Izuku mimicked, his thousand-watt smile pressing flat with amusement. His stupid green eyes were practically dancing with mirth and Katsuki suddenly felt very warm in the face- alone in a bookstore with a yellow, dive-bombing demon and a man with a fake-sounding job and no sense of color coordination and a very firm handshake.
Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest, ever so slightly jutting out his chin. He could still feel the outline of a hand where the guy had caught himself against Katsuki.
“What kinda book does a pet therapist need, anyway?”
The guy continued to blink up at Katsuki for a moment before coming to his senses with a startled, “Oh! I was wondering if you had any comics, actually. All Might, specifically.”
Katsuki raised an interested brow, looking between something-Midoriya, the demon from hell, and then Midoriya again.
Katsuki had absolutely zero idea what sorts of books Denki had in stock, let alone if he carried the single most greatest graphic novel series of Katsuki’s youth.
Still, he clicked his tongue. “Let’s find out.”
Fantasy au BKDK! I had way more fun with this than i expected so I'll probably play with the au designs more in the future
So summer daze (my MHA Coraline au) is literally kicking my ass rn and I cannot comprehend why but I had a fic idea yesterday and managed to crank out 8k words in nearly one sitting. And I know it’s me doing these things but somehow it feels like someone else is pulling the levers -_-
Lever 1: really developed idea but no writing
Lever 2: silly little whim and lots of writing
God/the voices: pull them both! muahahaha!
I recently picked up Chris Baty's book, No Plot? No Problem! and have decided to make March the month in which I try to write a 50k novel! Anyone here interested in joining?
I have a few irl friends who are participating (some with modified challenges) but I wanted to offer it up on here as well. If you're interested, interact with this post in any way or send me an ask/DM! More info below the cut :)
(and a very important vote for those who'd like to participate)
So the whole premise of the challenge is that, in giving yourself a one-month deadline to crank out a full, 50k novel, your attention ends up being placed on quantity over quality, which helps drown out the internal critic that makes you hesitate when you write (or edit something twelve million times before moving on, or never start writing in the first place)
I highly recommend renting the book from your local library for more details on the thought process behind the challenge and other helpful tips (and if you have a library card but transportation difficulty, a friend of mine recently showed me the Libby app, which could be of help!)
I'm aiming for the full 50 thousand words, but my artist friend is adapting the challenge to dedicate a certain amount of hours towards making a comic, and my mom lowered the wc for herself because she's always wanted to write a short story (and doesn't have a ton of interest in writing a novel lol). So if 50k sounds too overwhelming for you or novels aren't exactly your thing, but something else is, feel free to go with whatever floats your boat!
I'm not sure how many people this will reach/ how many would want to play along, but community is a great way to keep each other motivated while also holding each other accountable, so what do you think would be the best method for coordinating that?
Option 1- through tumblr! i could organize writing sprints, word count/progress sharing posts, and some motivational things all under the same tag for easy find-ability (all with a tag-list so everyone is notified when these posts come out and so everyone on the list can interact with each other) Option 2- through discord! theoretically, i can figure out how to make one of these so that there can be a lot more freedom of chatting/sharing etc and writing sprints can be organized on there as well, with extra, optional channels for people to talk about the specifics of their projects or anything else you might want (but absolutely no pressure on the details-sharing front if that'll bring your inner critic back to life) Option 3- tumblr communities! i am not 100% sure how this function works, but if it's smth you guys are into or think would be good, i can absolutely make one Option 4- nuance/something else! if you have a suggestion for a better way to do this, i am all ears
poll duration is only a week, so if there's a lot of interest i will re-cast the poll again in the beginning of february
(and if you like one of the options but have suggestions for things you'd like to see or ways to best organize it, just lmk!)
happy bkdk day! 😁 (8/9)
i’ve been writing a lot of i7 drabbles/ficlets lately, and I’m open to requests! (someone save me from the stress of college pls)
the two I’ve finished so far are Ringing Hearts and Morning if you wanna check ‘em out :)
Fractal | Shouto & Touya Todoroki | poetry/prose | 580 words
Shouto’s world changed when he woke up in the hospital.
Touya’s world changed when he woke up in the hospital.
His face had been burned, the doctor told him.
He had burned his body, a stranger told him.
Shouto remembered the shouting.
Touya remembered the desperation.
The kind of argument that felt like it shook the walls around him.
The disappointment in his father’s eyes, twisting up his insides as Endeavor shouted and raged and forced Touya to stop.
(He was being burnt up)
(He was being replaced)
Long after the echoes of his father’s voice had faded, Shouto remembered walking into the kitchen.
He remembered watching his mother’s unmoving form while she refused to say anything- anything- and then Touya blazed out the door without looking back to see if her expression had crumpled with regret.
He remembered watching his mother’s face flit from terror to anguish in the span of a breath as he entered, looking like she had been shattered by his soft-footed, pattering approach.
By then, Touya knew better than to search for regret in his father’s eyes.
And then the woman before him became unrecognizable.
Endeavor didn’t think Touya was strong enough but he was. He could be.
Shouto burned with the memory of a pain more intense than any he’d ever felt before.
Touya remembered the screaming in his veins, remembered the burn- harsher than anything he’d ever felt before. Remembered a startling break in the anguish and thinking, with his last shred of clarity, that this had to be good enough for his father.
It left Shouto numb and shivering beneath the thin, white hospital sheets.
It had to be.
“Mom..?” Shouto croaked and the doctor shook his head no.
It had to be.
Shouto didn’t cry when he saw the scar marring his face, but something inside of him felt sick.
Touya didn’t cry when he saw his mottled, purple reflection held together by crude stitches. Or when they told him he had died.
Shouto let the shock pool over him like ice and held the freezing shards close to his chest, hoping that they might be enough to douse the monstrous pain in his chest.
The disappointment was his own when he realized that he hadn’t been enough, after all. That he never was and never would be.
Shouto thought of the heat that always seemed to lick at his father’s eyes and fists when he shouted- warm enough to be felt even when Shouto couldn’t see the flames through his closed eyes or hear the words through his ragged, warbling breaths.
The bitterness was his own, too, but the expression in the mirror was startlingly familiar.
Heat thrummed uneasily beneath Shouto’s veins and the second he realized that the fire within himself was nothing more than his father’s furious legacy, pawned off onto Shouto like a lead shackle, was the second that Shouto Todoroki decided to freeze.
The second that Touya realized he was wearing the face his father had always greeted him with was the second time Touya Todoroki died and left a rotten shell of himself to walk the earth.
Shouto cast his eyes downward and didn’t respond to the doctor.
He didn’t notice that his father couldn’t look him in the eye.
Shouto grew older and decided that he and his mother were both victims of Endeavor.
Touya grew smarter and decided that the world would soon know who had driven him to an early death.