Not taking requests — read through my pinned post

I’m not taking any requests at the moment, and at this point I honestly don’t know if I will ever open requests again or publish any new content here in the future. This decision isn’t temporary or tied to a specific timeline, and there’s a real possibility that things may stay this way indefinitely.

If you’re looking for more detailed information on why I'm not writing anymore, please read through the posts behind those links.

I appreciate your understanding and patience, and I kindly ask that you respect this boundary for now.

My disabled brother died

Anyway, I've settled fine. I know a lot of people were worried when everything was happening, especially near the end there, and honestly I was terrified too. But I’m okay. Better than okay, actually. My dad managed to get here too after a bunch of delays and bureaucratic nonsense, which was a huge relief because I don’t think I would’ve been able to relax properly until he got out as well.

My uncle is still trying to figure out what to do. Right now he’s looking at either Canada, the UK, or Australia because the situation over there keeps getting worse and he genuinely doesn’t feel safe anymore. The problem is that immigration authorities have basically decided what he is before he even opens his mouth. Some ICE people are still suspicious of him and keep implying he’s Mexican and therefore “illegal,” and apparently no amount of paperwork proving his family background changes anything. It’s like once they decide you “look wrong,” that’s it. Doesn’t matter what documents you have, doesn’t matter that he has proof of his ancestry, doesn’t matter that he’s literally trying to do everything legally. He isn’t white (or orange) enough for them, so they immediately treat him like he’s lying.

And before anyone starts with the “surely it can’t be that bad” comments: yes, it genuinely is getting scary. The atmosphere there changed so fast. People keep telling you that you’re exaggerating until someone gets harassed, detained, threatened, assaulted, or worse. Everyone’s angry all the time, everyone’s suspicious of each other, and it feels like you constantly have to monitor yourself in public. Even staying quiet doesn’t necessarily protect you anymore if somebody decides you “look” like the kind of person they hate.

It sounds dramatic when I write it out like this, but that’s honestly how it feels watching everything from outside now. Like my home country is turning into something unrecognizable. The constant fear, the paranoia, the aggressive nationalism, the obsession with enemies everywhere. It’s hard not to think about it ending up as authoritarian country in near future.

Apparently even posting stuff like this publicly could’ve put me at risk if I was still there, which is insane to think about. The fact that people can't openly talk about being afraid of getting shot over politics and everyone just accepts that as normal now is honestly horrifying.

As for my dad’s interview: it never aired. The network eventually decided not to broadcast it because they didn’t think his story would get enough engagement. Which is… frustrating, honestly. He was really disappointed about it because he spent a lot of time preparing for it and thought maybe it would help people understand what was happening to families like ours. But at the same time my little sister was secretly relieved. She was genuinely scared that if his face ended up circulating online or on TV, some MAGA lunatic would recognize him and target him over it. The fact that this was even a real concern for us says enough by itself.

But on a much lighter note, because not everything in my life is doom and panic anymore: I actually got an internship here through my former boss, and it’s going surprisingly well. Like… genuinely well. It’s one of the first times in a long time where I don’t wake up every morning feeling dread about the future.

The people there are incredibly nice. Not fake corporate nice either, just normal kind people. I was nervous at first because I still feel out of place here sometimes and I kept expecting everyone to see me as “the foreigner,” but nobody really treats me that way. A couple of my coworkers have gone out of their way to help me settle in and explain things, and somehow I’ve even made friends. Actual friends. Which I honestly didn’t expect to happen this quickly considering how isolated and stressed I was for most of last year.

A few weeks ago I also moved to one of the coastal cities, which still doesn’t feel real sometimes. I grew up so far away from the ocean that now I keep catching myself staring at it like an idiot every time I walk past the beach. I’m currently living in a shared apartment with a few people around my age and thankfully they’re all lovely. I was SO scared it would turn into one of those roommate horror stories, but everyone’s really chill and we get along well. We’ll cook together sometimes or just sit around talking late at night after work.

That said, I do eventually want my own place. Not because there’s anything wrong here, because honestly this apartment has probably been the first stable home environment I’ve had in a while, but I’ve realized I really value having space to myself sometimes. I miss being able to exist quietly without hearing someone in the kitchen or waiting for the bathroom or feeling socially “on” all the time. So once the internship hopefully turns into a permanent position and I have a more stable income, I’ll probably start looking for a small apartment.

Also — and this still feels weird to type — I somehow ended up with a boyfriend. Which absolutely was not on my 2026 bingo card.

We’ve only officially been together for about a month, so it’s still very new and we’re taking things slowly, but yeah. He’s really sweet. Calm in a way that balances me out a little. I think after the past couple years I forgot relationships could actually feel peaceful instead of stressful. We’re definitely nowhere near moving in together or anything like that yet, but it’s been nice having someone around who makes everything feel a little less heavy.

As for this blog… I still honestly don’t know.

Tumblr finally got back to me about the disappearing inbox requests situation from months ago and supposedly fixed it, but I still swear some asks are missing because the number definitely feels lower than it used to be. Unless I imagined that entirely, which I guess is possible too.

I’ve been thinking about writing again lately. Not seriously seriously, but enough that the thought keeps coming back. Every now and then I’ll reread something old or get a really nice comment on an old fic and it gives me that feeling again, you know? That little spark where your brain starts going “okay but what if I wrote just one more thing.”

And honestly, I miss it. I miss getting lost in stories for hours. I miss posting stories. I miss the sense of having a community around me.

But at the same time I’m scared to come back to it because I feel rusty now, and because life changed so much while I was gone. I don’t really know where I fit into fandom spaces anymore or whether I even want to fully return, or if this feeling is just because I finally watched the last season of MHA and have a small tickle to write for them again, if this feeling will die out once my hype dies. So I guess the answer right now is: maybe. Maybe I’ll write again someday. Maybe I won’t. I genuinely don’t know yet, so I don’t want to promise anything and then disappear again for six months.

Still, every kind comment people leave on old fics means a lot more than you probably realize. Sometimes I’ll read one after a horrible day and it genuinely changes my mood for the rest of the evening. So thank you for that.

And thank you to everyone who’s still here after all this time, honestly. I didn’t expect people to stick around through months of silence, but seeing familiar usernames again has been strangely comforting.

Thanks to a small miracle of timing and connections, things moved faster than we ever expected. My father’s best friend’s brother owns a moving company, and once he heard what was going on, he offered to help us. Because of that, everything that could be accelerated was accelerated. So the “children” of the family—me, my three older siblings, and my two younger sisters—arrived in Australia late last night. I’m writing this from my grandparents’ house, running on fumes, violently jet-lagged, and completely unable to convince my body that it’s supposed to sleep now.

It’s very late here, but my brain is still convinced it’s the middle of the day. I’m exhausted in that hollow, buzzing way where you feel sick and wired at the same time. Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’ve just blinked instead of slept. On the bright side, at least Jared—the infamous garage spider of my childhood nightmares—no longer lives here, and apparently neither do his friends, cousins, descendants, or any other eight-legged horrors. That alone feels like a personal victory.

My older siblings—Nyla and my two brothers—are currently staying at the other house and sorting things out there. My parents decided that my younger sisters should stay here with our grandparents until they arrive themselves, and I volunteered to stay with them. Partly because they need someone familiar around, and partly because… well, someone has to keep things calm.

The stress has been intense for all of us, but it’s hitting my youngest sister especially hard. She’s terrified that something will happen to our dad. A few days ago, he was interviewed about our experiences, and there’s a real possibility that once it’s released—if it’s released—it could attract attention from MAGA types and people who already think anyone who speaks out deserves violence. She’s constantly spiraling, convinced that the interview will make him a target, that he’ll be killed, that we’ll never see him again.

I spend a lot of time trying to ground her, reassure her, talk her through the fear when it starts looping. It doesn’t help that my uncle told us one of his immigrant coworkers was interviewed as well, and his story was never published because the network “didn’t find it interesting enough.” Apparently, unless you’re shot in the head on camera, your suffering doesn’t qualify as news. Knowing that makes everything feel both safer and more bitter at the same time.

On a much smaller, more mundane note: I finally bought a new smartphone—one that can actually run Tumblr without crashing every five minutes. I’m still barely functional on it, but at least I can use it. I was finally able to edit my blog title and pinned post to explain my absence properly. Someone made a recommendation post about my blog recently and very clearly hadn’t read anything beyond my fic, because they advertised me as someone who takes requests. I had to correct that, and until now I literally couldn’t fix my own pinned post without errors. Small thing, I know, but it was weirdly relieving to finally get that sorted.

There’s also some good news on the work front, which I’m holding onto pretty tightly. My former boss is genuinely incredible. After hearing that our family left the U.S., he reached out to me on his own and offered to ask around. He’s going to contact some of his friends to see if anyone might be willing to take me on—as an intern, an assistant, a part-time worker, even just a substitute for something. Nothing is guaranteed, of course, and even if something comes through, it likely wouldn’t happen until at least the end of summer. It might also mean relocating closer to one of the coastal cities. But just knowing that someone is willing to advocate for me like that means more than I can really put into words right now.

I don’t know how many people are still reading my updates now that I’m not actively writing anymore. I honestly don’t even know who this message is reaching. But I wanted to say this anyway: I made it here. I’m safe. We’re exhausted, scared, stressed, and trying to reassemble our lives in a completely different country—but we’re here.

This morning my uncle finally managed to call my dad and explain why none of us had been able to reach him for days. My dad is one quarter Italian because of his grandfather, and it does show in his and his siblings’ features — especially in my uncle’s face. Because of that, my uncle was violently detained by ICE a few days ago. He was only released this morning after they “confirmed” his legality, as if he ever needed to prove his existence in the first place. Our entire family is shaken, horrified, and absolutely enraged.

We have all seen the videos of ICE executions. Alex Pretti’s family has all our prayers. Watching a video where Alex is clearly already down, not posing a threat, and then seeing an agent casually step back and shoot him in the head is something I genuinely cannot unsee. And then scrolling down to the comments and seeing people cheer, justify it, and call it “necessary” made me feel physically sick. How broken do you have to be to watch an execution and think, yes, this is good? It honestly made us wonder how long it will take before MAGAs start forming their own little vigilante squads, playing cop, judge, and executioner, and just start murdering anyone they suspect of being undocumented because they don’t look white enough. Because that is clearly where this is heading.

And if you think this is just about immigration, let me remind you of the videos of ICE harassing Native Americans. Actual Native Americans. People whose families lived on this land long before the USA even existed. I’ve seen multiple clips of agents aggressively interrogating them, demanding documentation, trying to force them to “confess” they’re actually Mexican and illegally in the country. One of the agents even said to a Native American couple, “Americans don’t look like you.” Let that sink in. The sheer, jaw-dropping ignorance and racism of that statement is unbelievable. Americans don’t look like Natives? Then who the hell does? Europeans who showed up, slaughtered them, stole their land, shoved them into reservations, tried to erase their culture, language, and identity — those are Americans now, but the original people of this land somehow aren’t? The level of historical illiteracy, entitlement, and pure racist delusion in that one sentence is honestly horrifying. These people don’t even understand what country they live in, but they’re given guns, badges, and unchecked power.

And now this insanity has directly hit our family. My uncle was detained extremely violently. He complied with everything, said nothing, didn’t resist in any way, because he was genuinely terrified that one wrong move would get him shot in the street. While in the holding cell, ICE agents threatened him with beatings, repeatedly tried to intimidate him into “confessing” he’s an illegal Mexican, and treated him like he was subhuman. They humiliated him, scared him, and psychologically tortured him for days. And when they finally confirmed his legality, they basically just threw him out like trash. No apology. No accountability. No acknowledgment of the trauma they caused. Just “oops, our bad,” except without even the decency to say that.

They nearly destroyed a man’s life because of how he looks.

So yeah. We’re done. We are all in the process of migrating to Australia. This is no longer some vague future plan — this is happening now. Which means I’ll likely be very quiet for a while, because we are speed-packing our entire lives and desperately trying to find a realtor to help us sell our house. Everything is rushed, stressful, and overwhelming, but staying here feels genuinely unsafe. I don’t trust this country anymore. I don’t trust its law enforcement. I don’t trust its government. And I sure as hell don’t trust the mobs of radicalized people cheering this on.

I’m unfortunately not active at the moment, and I don’t really know when — or if — I’ll be able to be again.

Last year was incredibly hard for me, and it kind of drained the joy out of creative writing. On top of that, my entire drafts folder disappeared and my old laptop died and we don't know if I can get the drafts back. Tumblr also won’t let me edit my pinned post or my blog description/title to let people know what’s going on, and I honestly haven’t had the energy to fight with it as much as I could.

That said, there have been some positive things too. I got a new laptop from my parents as a joint birthday and Christmas present (we didn’t really celebrate my birthday because of Nygel), so at least it’s easier for me to work on job applications now.

Also, the person who sent me that anon a while back about wanting to start an MHA x reader blog without smut actually came back and messaged me privately with their newly made blog! It’ll take them some time to set things up, but once they give me the go-ahead, I’ll be giving them a shoutout.

Thank you so much for your kindness and for taking the time to say all of this. It truly means more than I can express. Earlier on, I felt differently, but lately I’ve changed my perspective and have been trying to take more active steps to protect myself from negativity and stress.

Unfortunately, I’m currently unable to close my asks or make nearly any changes to my blog at all. Whenever I try to edit my title, description, pinned post, or even disable asks, the app crashes immediately. We don’t know why this is happening. My sister’s account works perfectly fine on the same devices, but as soon as we log into my account, the crashes start.

We even tried accessing my account on my oldest sister’s work laptop. The issue still occurred there as well: the site returned a code error. At the time, I didn’t realize I should save or share the error code so we could look it up, and she’s since returned home, so we’re unable to check it again for now.

I understand your frustration, and I’m truly sorry. Unfortunately, a lot more went wrong than I ever expected.

While I was sorting my queue, it completely disappeared. Tumblr never replied to my support ticket, and shortly after that my laptop died before I could recover what hadn’t been posted yet. One request I managed to find is incomplete, and I don’t currently have the energy to finish it. After having my sister’s boyfriend—who works in computer tech—look at the laptop, he confirmed that the hard drive is at least partially corrupted. He’s trying to salvage what he can, but there’s no guarantee what—if anything—can be recovered.

On top of that, the past couple of weeks have been incredibly hard on my family, and more difficult things have happened since. My life is honestly in a downward spiral right now. I know I made promises, but at this point I may not be able to fulfill them, and that’s not something I can control.

I’m also extremely limited in how I can even be online. I don’t have access to my own device right now and can only check Tumblr occasionally when my sister lends me her phone. I don’t own a smartphone and don’t enjoy using them, so being here at all is difficult and inconsistent.

Because of all this, it’s very possible that I won’t be able to write for a long time—if ever. My blog may be quiet for a long while, and I genuinely don’t know if I’ll ever regain the motivation I had before. Any requests sent now are very likely to never be completed, and people are absolutely free to take their ideas elsewhere if they’d like.

What I’m struggling with right now is what to do about the volume of requests I’m still receiving. Many of them seem to come from people who only read my fics and don’t read any other posts, so they assume everything is fine and that I’m actively writing. There are so many requests that replying to each one individually to say “this will probably never be filled” feels almost taunting. At the same time, any general posts I make trying to warn people not to send requests tend to get missed and only result in even more requests.

I also can’t edit my blog title to reflect this situation—every time I try to save changes, the app crashes. So I feel stuck between not wanting to ignore people, not wanting to mislead anyone, and not having the tools or energy to manage it properly.

Hello lovely, I’m so sorry for the late reply. The past week has been incredibly busy and overwhelming for us. We have been going through a lot recently, on top of losing Nygel, and it feels like everything has hit us all at once. It’s been a really heavy and crushing time. I don’t have the energy to go into everything that’s happened over the last few days, but unfortunately none of it has been good. This has truly been the hardest Christmas of our lives.

About a week ago, I received an anonymous message from someone who’s interested in writing MHA fanfiction. They don’t plan on writing smut and were worried they might not feel welcome in the fandom because of that. I made a poll in response to let the community speak, but the answer options weren’t very well thought out and ended up giving a misleading impression—making it seem like most people don’t want more non-smut content in the tags, even though comments on that post painted a picture of people loving smut/reading both, but would like it if there wouldn't be so much of it.

Because of this, I’ve made a new poll with better options. I hope this isn’t bothering anyone or clogging the tags.

I'm not a minor and I feel like me not writing smut despite not being a minor would negatively affect whether I'm welcome into the fandom.

Hi! Sorry it took me a while to reply — on top of everything else, my laptop decided to completely die. I’m currently borrowing my sister’s laptop and trying to figure out how to recover my fics from the old one (yes, yes, I know, I should’ve backed them up somewhere else and I did at one point but I have no idea where it is now 😅).

That said, I really don’t think you’d have any trouble being welcome in the fandom. My sister reads a lot of MHA fanfiction, and she regularly complains about how much she wishes there were more well-written non-smut fics out there. I seriously doubt she’s the only one who feels that way.

If you don’t mind, I also made a poll so other people can weigh in, since neither my sister nor I are the ultimate authority on the fandom. People are absolutely welcome to leave advice in the replies or send anon asks too if they’d prefer.

Thankfully, I still have everything saved on my laptop. If Tumblr doesn’t respond to my support ticket, I’ll start reposting things manually once I have the energy to sort through the folder. It hasn’t been organized in a long time, so there are hundreds of files all mixed together — published pieces, unpublished drafts, everything — and I’ll have to open each one to check the details, see when it was last edited, and figure out whether it’s already been posted here.