#back to daydreaming

[theasterous09]

Alright, so I've been off the internet for a few days because I was reading a fanfic (unsurprisingly), and it's a popular Boboiboy x Boku No Hero Academia fanfic (Elemental Hero), and it's so good but I'm so sad that it's still a WIP and it's been a year since it had a new chapter.

Anyway, I'm not that sad about it (kidding, I'm depressed), but I can't help but think of other crossovers for Boboiboy after reading it.

Obviously, I've thought about a crossover between BBB and RC9GN. It's an interesting concept actually, and it works well in my head. But recently, I've been thinking of a different series other than RC9GN that would be a cool x-over for BBB.

Miraculous Ladybug

Listen, I already said before that I don't really like MLB (I used to be a fan, but ehh-), but that's because of how it is written. It is so poorly executed that I just gave up on it, I like to look at the fandom's works more than the canon series at this point. I like the concept and potential the story that Miraculous has, and I think it's being wasted on.

That is one of the reasons why I love imagining a crossover between BBB and MLB. Like, seriously, I know that BBB is a pretty obscure show, and isn't as well-known as MLB, but I really thought there'd be more crossovers of them??? Wouldn't it be an awesome idea for Marinette, Adrien, and co. to enter the BBB universe? Or even the Kokotiam gang to enter the MLB universe? With plenty of villains on both universes, there'd be plenty of writing potential for these two shows together.

Personally, since I'm in the BBB fandom atm, I've been daydreaming thinking of a story where it's the Koko gang that somehow ends up in the MLB universe (thanks to the many amounts of crossover fics and that Elemental Hero fic I've read, I've thought of a way how they got there + it's easier to think of how they got there than how MLB characters would in the BBB universe). They have to find out how to get back to their world, while trying to fit in in Paris so they don't attract too much attention. The latter obviously fails when villains appear and, like the heroes they are, tries to save the day, but they bump into the local heroes of this world: Ladybug and Chat Noir (with additional other heroes depending on the timeline of MLB). Weird shenanigans ensues and the gang escapes from being questioned by the two heroes.

Now, Ladybug and Chat Noir are on the hunt to find the 5 weird people who had powers (just like them, but somehow more different), the gang tries to find someone who can help them find a way back home, and ofc, Hawkmoth (or Shadowmoth or Monarch, idk when this takes place in MLB honestly) takes a liking to these weird, new comers and tries to take advantage of them. And a new (or old?) threat appears from Boboiboy's world (somehow, idk) and tries to form an alliance with Gabriel so that they can both get what they want.

How will the Kokotiam Gang get home? What will Marinette and Adrien do to find those weird people with powers? Once they find them, what then? Will Gabriel be able to get the Miraculouses now that he has a bigger threat? Who would the mysterious villain from BBB's universe be? And will Marinette still be pining over Adrien like in the original series?

That last question, if I were to write this, then I wouldn't do that. I seriously hate writing romance, and Marinette pining over Adrien in almost every episode is boring. So, romance wouldn't be the main focus of the story.

But for the rest of those questions? Honestly, idk. I don't have the motivation to make this into an actual story. I still plan on writing RC9GN: Ninja Watchception once I get the motivation to write again.

Though, it is nice to dream.

[stars-n-spice]

It's cuffing season so here is a list of why Wrecker is literally the perfect partner

for a 4'11, Korean Mexican, probably neurodivergent introverted individual

His height. He can reach all the things I cannot even if he would probably tease me about it. I won't have to climb on the counters to get stuff from the cabinets or make a fool out of myself in grocery aisles when something I need is on the top shelf. I could ask him to carry me on his shoulders to experience being tall for once (only to probably get scared because that's too high up). I just think it'll be beneficial. Not to mention on my knees I am the perfect height to [gets shot].

His size. The sheer build of this man compared to mine is fucking crazy and I think about it a little too much. But without getting NSFW,, he's like a portable heater and a weighted blanket wrapped in one big teddy bear. I'd sleep so well engulfed in his arms (though it might stress him out every morning, waking up and thinking "Oh shit, I hope I didn't crush them-") because it probably feels very warm and very safe. I stupidly made fun of my mom for being cold all the time one day and karma got my fucking ass so now I'm cold all the time, but Wrecker practically radiates heat. Also we both definitely have size kinks so it works in out favor ahahaha.

His Emotional Intelligence. Wrecker's incredibly intelligent and especially with his emotions and other people's emotions. Meanwhile my emotional intelligence is,,, uh, not that good. So not only could he probably help me work on it but because he has such a high emotional intelligence I just think he'd be able to understand me in ways others can't/don't. I say that because I'm very touch adverse and Wrecker is a very physically affectionate guy, but I think he'd catch on quickly that I'm not always comfortable with hugs and shit without me telling him (because I can't bring myself to tell people "Hey, I actually don't like that.") and would be able to adjust so that I'm comfortable. Also I just think he'd be able to tell when something is bothering me and instead of confronting me about it (which will freak me out and make things worse) he'd just try to distract me from it or get me to lighten up with some jokes or something. Also, he's a demolitions expert so I can imagine that he's incredibly cautious and patient and that's exactly what I need because fuck, it'll take some time for all the walls to come down.

Similar Interests. I'd like to think that we'd have somewhat similar interests. I could see him enjoying action and animation films/TV shows. You wanna have a Kung Fu Panda marathon? Say no more. We are quoting things and making references left and right. Wanna get into our matching Sonic pajamas and watch Sonic Prime? Definitely. Yes. Done deal. We're info dumping about fixations to each other, I'm watching him play Minecraft because if I play it, I get nauseous, he's listening as I give him a PowerPoint presentation about the MCU. We're going to interactive science museums for stimulation, I'm taking him to the Montery Bay Aquarium and the San Diego Zoo (and the Safari Park) and telling him cool animal facts the entire time while he gets to enjoy seeing all the awesome creatures. He's so down to go camping and hiking, which is great because I do a lot of that. Personality wise we are not the same but I'd like to think that we would enjoy a lot of the same things. Idk,, basically ADHD and Autism solidarity.

He's a morning person. Again, opposites attract because I am most definitely not a morning person by any means. I'm staying up all night writing and watching Markiplier play FNAF while he snores away and in the morning he's up at like fucking 6 am to run or something while I sleep until the afternoon. Bonus points if he feeds my cat in the morning, my cat and I will love him forever if he does. Idk, I just think that'll be nice.

He'll eat well with me. Every day I thank the gods that I am Korean and Mexican because I really fucking won in terms of food. On top of that, I've got access to a WIDE variety of different cuisines because thank god I'm not in the middle of butt fuck nowhere with no access to anything good. Like when my family goes camping we're taking a whole Korean BBQ restaurant with us! We aren't going to eat beans out of a can, you're fucking crazy. Anyways, he'll have all the meat in the word because holy fuck do Koreans eat a lot of meat. I also like to think that he LOVES spicy food too (even if he can't handle it all that well). And wouldn't you know, Koreans and Mexicans fucking LOVE their spice. Man is eating SO WELL and I stand by him needing someone who can give him GOOD food in generous amounts. Like after seeing him so full after eating on Pabu and having that sushi I was like, oh that man is in for a TREAT.

My family would love him. I also grew up in a big family with lots of siblings so I think that we could bond over that. My family is also pretty nice and accepting too, they'd have fun with him.

He'd think I'm cool. This is a completely selfish point but oh well. Sometimes I beat myself up over being so childish and shit but then I'll think about how Wrecker wouldn't give a shit whether or not I have dinosaur themed bed sheets. He'd think that's the coolest thing ever. He'd be in complete awe of my stuffed animal collection and would think I'm the coolest person ever. It just helps sometimes, idk,,

Anyways-

Those are like,, the main points

I probably think about him too much and sometimes I'm absolutely devastated by the fact that he's not real because he's literally perfect for me </3

Don't get me wrong, I'm probably most definitely aroace but,, idk he just seems to be an exception

[peachsukii]

Bakugo walks into your shared apartment to see you in the living room surrounded by packages, all excitedly torn open with discarded bubble wrap lying around you. Various Dynamight themed trinkets are littered at your feet, everything from keychains to can badges and exclusive cafe coasters.

He chuckles to himself while placing his boots in the closet by the door. “Go on another shoppin’ spree, sweets?”

You turn your head away bashfully, tapping your fingers against your thighs. “…yeah. Someone was selling a bunch of limited edition merch.”

Bakugo strolls into the living room and observes all the items on the floor. He leans down to leave a kiss on your cheek before turning to head for the bathroom to shower.

“Ya know I can get ya that shit for free, babe,” he calls over his shoulder. “I am Dynamight.”

“I know!” You answer, picking up one of the keychains and smiling. “Just being a supportive girlfriend is all.”

[cacaocheri]

really like the idea of sun completely engulfing you in a hug, especially with his legs

[scramratz]

I'm gonna be so racist towards robots in the future

[riuhere]

They are constantly on my mind 24/7. I literally can't get them OuT of my hEad-

...Yup... I'm screwed-

Triad Au belongs to @novelcain

Vault Hunters AU & Eternal Servants AU belongs to @emelinstriker

Twice As Bad AU & Monster Boyfriend belongs to @semisolidmind

Bone King Au belongs to @ninjasmudge

Cross belongs to @jakei95

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

weird hearing "were you a Theatre Kid" "were you a Sports Kid" "were you a Choir Kid" "were you a Dance Kid" bc no? i mean i did all of that and more but resented ever minute of it? actively avoided sticking with anything? i was a "In This Family After School Activities Are Mandatory Kid"

[teddybeartoji]

aizawa loves it when you get on his lap and grind and hump him until you're cumming when he's still fully clothed.... he'll hold your waist and he'll help you keep your pace and he'll guide you to and through your high all while just watching you because that's really all he needs

[serendippertyy]

playing with my style a bit uwu 💜 commissions are back open as well!! :]

[theokusgallery]

Why, hello there, Virgil. Long time no see!

[unityrain24]

please. i want to draw. i want to write. i want to imagine

[t3alover00]

My back is in pain but it was worth it ig, I believe this is one of the few times I actually post a finished drawing

I first drew this as body practice but then the drawing started looking like Laios so I ended up drawing him (the last picture of him is from the daydream hour book)

[stellar-haikyuu]

get well soon ☆ shirabu kenjirou x reader

synopsis: second-year reader has been shirabu’s classmate and academic rival since their first year. when reader overworks themselves and they break down during a test, shirabu is unexpectedly “kind.” details: academic rivals to friends/lovers, some angst, hurt/comfort, ~3.2k words, gn! reader. warnings: some descriptions of reader having low self-esteem and test anxiety :( also, this is long; i hope the time skips are clear.

Sometimes, you wonder how you ended up here. 

You were excited to finally reach the last leg of your high school journey after years of studying at Shiratorizawa Academy. 

Of course, you knew the climb would only get harder, but you had no idea the mountain would be this rocky.

Your goal was clear: consistently be at the top of your class, for at least two out of three terms every year. 

When you started your first year, the classes seemed pretty manageable. You didn’t think you’d have any trouble.

That was until your classmate, Shirabu Kenjirou, came out on top in the first term.

He didn’t say that much, but his scores spoke for themselves. Threatened, you pushed back.

You recited at least once every class. You volunteered to help your teachers. You made damn sure that you’d be congratulated for getting the highest test scores.

By then, you knew you had his attention.

An academic rivalry was not part of your plan; but for the sake of maintaining a competitive medical school application, you told yourself to accept it. 

And apparently, he has plans to apply to med school, too! Great!

Through sheer determination, you successfully beat him by the end of the second term. When you came home to your family for winter break, you proudly shared the news.

Come third term, everyone in your class knew you two were battling it out. Even the teachers caught on and reminded you two to keep the competition friendly.

Nobody would ever forget your pair work in social studies that ended in an impromptu debate about the Japanese economy. Your teacher just sighed and reiterated that your grade was shared, not separate.

Despite it all, you survived…only to end up tied with him in the class ranking. It was so unlikely, but somehow, the cumulative totals of your percentages were equal.

You had no idea how it made you feel, but you prayed to everyone and everything, hoping it would come to an end.

However, the day you walked into your new second-year classroom, you wondered if your wishes fell on deaf ears.

Sat in the front row was the sandy-haired boy with the infuriating bowl cut bangs.

You know it’s not like you, but you crave seeing the sour look on Shirabu’s face whenever you win against him.

It’s become second nature to send him a sickly sweet smile each time you get praised by a teacher.

You couldn’t help it, not when you found out he became the starting setter for Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team this year. 

Sports was never something you cared about, as you’d rather spend the rest of the afternoon studying. But, it irked you to see how well he seemed to balance his extracurriculars with his academics.

No, you even envied it—the training was no joke. Your friends tell you that it’s constant early morning and late afternoon training, plus a harsh coach. 

Yet, the guy comes into class acing his assignments, almost as if he hasn’t spent hours of his day throwing and hitting balls.

Just for once, you want to see him break.

You feel ashamed to think that way about someone, but sometimes, it seems easier to be resentful.

It didn’t help that he was constantly being congratulated by classmates and teachers because Shiratorizawa won the Miyagi Interhigh Tournament.

Internally, you were happy because it meant not seeing him in class for a while. But the more you thought about it…

He’s going to Tokyo for Nationals. He plays with a team. He has a life outside of academics. 

You? You’ve got nothing going on.

Your days all blend together: late-night studying, rushed breakfast, intense classes, library time, dinner, studying some more. Repeat.

Your roommate offers company, though they're equally busy, chasing their own dream of becoming a lawyer. 

And while you see friends at lunch, you’ve started declining invites to go out, even on weekends. You can barely recall what the arcade or nearby cafés look like.

You always say you need more time to study. That you’re tired and want to rest. There’s truth to your reasons, yet you feel frustrated.

Unfulfilled. 

Pissed.

Why can’t I be like him?

Adding insult to injury, they release the first-term grade cards and class rankings. 

Just like last year, Shirabu took the top spot. You came in second, but only by a small, decimal point difference.

Something twists in your gut.

Normally, you do pretty decently in your mathematics classes, but it doesn’t mean you never struggle with the lessons.

The second-term curriculum seems to be out to get you though. Limits? Elementary Calculus? Where in the world would you need this kind of math in your life?

Lately, you’ve been observing Shirabu at the library on his free days. You wait until he brings out the math textbooks and worksheets, then time how long it takes him to finish studying.

It takes him about half the time it takes you. 

You’re not even surprised when he’s applauded for getting the highest mark on the lastest math test.

Of course. He has a way with numbers that I don’t.

When you receive your test paper, you stare at the red ink. You passed, but only by a few points. Relief and disappointment swirl inside you.

The teacher starts to go over the items that most students had difficulty with, but you don’t pay attention. You can’t, not when you know everything’s starting to fall apart.

For the first time in your life, you felt the danger of failure. It was terrifying.

You can feel Shirabu gazing at you, but you don’t look back.

He’s not important now. You need to survive.

If he starts wondering why you stopped going to the library, it’s none of his business.

A distraction is the last thing you need.

You stop talking to everyone, choosing to stick your head between your books during break.

You no longer recite in every single class. Once a day is enough to conserve your mental energy.

The weekends are reserved for a strict study regimen that gives you more time to study for math.

Your classmates whisper about you. They send concerned looks your way.

Some teachers ask if you’re okay, but you say that you’re fine.

You should be. 

You have to be.

Two weeks have passed, and there’s another stupid math test coming. Tomorrow, to be exact.

Your dorm room is silent. Your roommate has long fallen asleep on their desk, knocked out from working on their chemistry assignments.

It’s past midnight now, but you’re only halfway through the test coverage—partially, it’s also thanks to an English project draft that was also due tomorrow.

Your head is buzzing with anxious thoughts, worries that you’ll forget everything you’ve spent days studying.

I need to pass, I need to pass, I need to pass…

The numbers and symbols start to fly around the page. The steps starts to lose all sense of logic.

You don’t even register your eyelids drooping and the pencil falling out of your hands.

Fatigue is a tough thing to fight off. 

The next time you blink, it’s to wake up.

Both you and your roommate jolt at your morning alarms.

When did I fall asleep?

You groan and sit up, massaging a small cramp out of your neck. Your head has a lingering ache, you realize, as you wipe away a small amount of drool from the corner of your lips.

But you have no time to think about it. You need to get ready for the day.

The rest of the morning goes by in a haze. You pick up one of the energy bars on your bedside table. You feel like you can’t really eat anything more, anyway.

There’s a pit in your stomach. You suppose it’s hunger, test anxiety, or something else.

Whatever, whatever, I’m going to be late.

Your roommate gives you one last “good luck” before you both dash to your classrooms in the high school building.

Thankfully, all your morning classes were either entirely new lessons or reviews of familiar material. You cannot listen to anything your teachers are saying.

On your desk, your physics notebook is secretly opened. You try to review what you can, but it’s tough.

You feel like nodding off at any moment. The room feels hotter than usual, too.

When recess comes around, you’ve lost your appetite entirely. It’s an odd, contradicting feeling. You’re hungry and you know you need to eat, but you don’t want to.

Maybe you shouldn’t. You feel like you might throw up if you do. Lunch comes right after anyway, so you’ll wait until the nerves are gone.

It’s time. 

Your teacher walks into the room and you cannot believe that you’re about to take the dreaded test. Your legs can’t stop shaking. 

Somehow, the worst sensations are hitting your body all at once. Heat, chills, nausea, sluggishness, and some sort of brain fog.

You can’t even focus on the final reminders that your teacher is giving you. There’s some chatter from your classmates, but it’s all garbled noise in your ears. 

Every second feels like a century. The testing sheets make their way down each column, and you whisper one last prayer before your papers are passed to you.

Oh god.

Even though you’re staring directly at the page, none of the words or numbers register. The questions send a shiver down your spine.

How the hell do I do this again?

Breathe.

Breathe.

You’ve studied this.

You try to focus on the simpler questions first, to get them out of the way. You avoid reading the last few pages to give yourself some peace of mind.

You’re thankful that there are some parts with multiple choice questions, but your mind spins, trying to comprehend the conceptual aspects of your math lesson.

Your heart starts to pound wildly in your chest. You grip your pencil tightly as you attempt to solve or answer something.

You manage to come up with responses, but you get the feeling that there may have been something wrong in your computations. If there’s one thing you hated about mathematics, it’s how the careless mistakes result in a domino effect.

Whatever. It’s done. Next part.

You glance around the classroom, seeing nothing but your classmates working around you. Nobody seems to be struggling like you were.

Maybe they’re better at hiding it. It’s fine. It’s fine.

As you progress to the other questions, you find it increasingly challenging to concentrate and recall the steps. Nothing is surfacing to your memory. You feel like your skull is just stuffed with cotton.

What’s wrong with me?

The feeling is overwhelming. You look at the clock, realizing that you’ve already spent half the period on less than half of the questions.

I might not finish.

I don’t know what to do.

Nothing makes sense anymore. You feel like your insides are going to explode. Everything hurts. You feel like throwing up. It’s cold and hot and you don’t understand it.

I’m going to fail. 

The very thought brings your anxiousness to a peak. Tears fall from your eyes without warning. Your pencil drops to the floor as you hold your head in your hands.

It’s like a dam breaks.

It’s not long before you catch your classmates’ and teacher’s attention.

You can hear your teacher call out to you, but you don’t know what to to say. You register her coming closer, asking you questions with surprise and concern.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

You can’t stop crying. Your mind runs a mile a minute.

You feel a cold hand on your forehead, and there’s a hiss that follows.

"You're burning up," she mutters, a crease of worry in her brow. "I think you've got a fever. You should go to the nurse. We can schedule a make-up test this week."

You sniffle and nod in response. The teacher takes your test booklet, giving your shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze before returning to her desk.

"Is there anyone finished? Kindly help them to the nurse if so," she asks, her voice echoing in the quiet classroom.

You don’t even realize who volunteers. You just want this to end.

There's a small tap on your shoulder. "Hey, let’s go." It's a voice you know all too well.

You look up to find none other than Shirabu standing over you.

Of course he's already finished, you think bitterly to yourself.

You muster a weak nod, feeling even smaller as he helps you pack up your things.

The hallway is nearly deserted, with a faint murmur of voices and the shuffling of distant footsteps. You’re aware of the sideway glances that a few students and teachers give you as they pass by.

You cover your face with your hands; you’ve always hated what you looked like when you cry. 

And I just had to break down in front of him like this.

To your surprise though, you notice that Shirabu’s matching his pace to yours. Shirabu always walks quickly, often a few steps ahead of anyone else. But right now, he's walking just slow enough that, if you picked up the pace, you'd be side-by-side.

Is he only doing this because the teacher asked him? But she isn’t here to see him right now, so-

"What happened to you?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

You startle at his question, expecting this entire walk to be silent.

“I…I don’t know.” Your voice is still a little thick. “I couldn’t answer the questions at all.”

"No. I meant, why'd you go even if you were sick?"

“Oh.” You sniffle, embarrassed. “I thought I could handle it…didn’t know it would be this bad. Just wanted to show up.”

Shirabu goes quiet for a moment, before asking more questions.

“How long have you been feeling this way? Did you even eat or drink anything? You didn’t do either during recess.”

His questions catch you off guard. You can’t believe that he’s asking you something this personal. There’s no bite to his words. Just genuine curiosity.

“Uh,” you falter. You try to think back to yesterday and this morning. “Well, I…”

"You...?" He prompts, urging you to continue. 

“Um, I mean, I’ve been tired lately. Who wouldn’t be?” You mutter.

Shirabu raises his eyebrows.

Ugh, he won’t stop until I tell him.

“I didn’t really eat a lot yesterday.” You sigh. “Energy bar this morning. Water, I don’t know how much.”

You can see the gears turning as he processes your response. “So, you haven’t been eating, drinking, and resting enough. Surely, you would have realized this wouldn’t end well for you?”

Hearing him say it out loud suddenly makes you feel defensive. It feels like he’s about to counter your argument in a debate—a deliberate search for weak spots.

“Well, sorry about that, Mister Perfect."

“What?”

“I get it! I don’t have my damn life together right now!” You grit your teeth together in frustration.

"How will you practice medicine without taking care of yourself?" Shirabu responds.

Oh, you’ve done it.

“Why the hell do you care?” You snap. Fresh tears spring to your eyes. 

The both of you stop walking and a heavy atmosphere settles after your emotional outburst. 

Shirabu doesn’t respond immediately, which somehow makes you feel worse. You feel stupid for overreacting.

“Look,” he says quietly. “I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just that…you have to make it.”

Your head lifts up in surprise. “W-What?”

“You have to make it into medicine.”

“Why?”

“That’s your dream, isn’t it?”

“I, yes…” Your voice is soft. You’re not sure what he’s trying to get at. “But what’s it to you if I achieve it or not?”

“We need more brilliant doctors.”

That stuns you and you chuckle in disbelief at his words.

“Don’t mess with me. You can’t be so sure,” you mutter.

“I’m usually right about things,” he deadpans.

You glare at him, though a small part of you is thankful for that tinge of “normalcy” at a moment like this.

“Just...” He sighs, pausing to think. “I’ve never met someone that pushed to work this hard academically.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Hm. The feeling is mutual, Shirabu.”

There’s a few beats of silence before he continues. 

“You still feel that way now? Is that why you pushed yourself to take this test instead of resting?”

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you answer. Your brain can only take so much now. “But whatever. I get it—I’ve been making a lot of stupid decisions.”

“Then don’t make any more,” Shirabu says in a firm voice. He turns his entire body to face you, and his hands settle on your shoulders. “Listen to me.”

“Woah, what-”

“You better follow what the nurse says so you can recover.” He pauses, considering his next words carefully. “Once you’re better, I’m going to help you with math.” 

He grip tightens for just a moment before he lets go. When his words sink in, you blink at him, bewildered. 

“I’m sorry, did you get hit in the head by a volleyball?”

“I’m serious,” he glares.

“Why are you doing this? You’re helping me?”

“Did you not hear what I said earlier? I want you to make it.”

“...into medicine.” You whisper, completing his statement. 

Wait. “I want?” Didn’t he say-

“Yes.” He continues walking, but halts for a moment to look over his shoulder. “Come on.”

You follow. 

“And you plan on making it to medicine, too, Shirabu.” 

“Mhm,” he responds with absolute certainty.

As you both round the corner, the nurse’s office comes into view. You decide to ask the question forming in your mind before you lose the chance to.

“Are you saying that you want me to stick around?”

You brave a quick glance at his face, but the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.

“I do.”

At some point, you drifted off after the nurse questioned you and guided you to one of the beds.

You vaguely remember Shirabu holding on to your belongings and lingering for a while before the nurse dismissed him.

“Hi, darling,” the nurse says, noticing you sit up. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“Yes,” you respond. Your fever’s gone down, according to the thermometer, though you still feel groggy.

“That’s good. I think you can go return to your dorm once you’re ready.”

You nod in response and you thank the nurse for her assistance. She moves to return to her desk, but then she stops.

“By the way…” She faces you again. “That kind boy from your class brought you some food from the cafeteria.”

Huh?

She points to the wrapped bowl on your bedside table. 

“Oh, I see. Thank you.”

Shirabu bringing you food was already surprising, but what truly catches your eye are the pages of class notes held together by a metal paperclip.

You gasp once you read the sticky note on top.

These are notes from today’s classes.  Review them when you’ve recovered. Take your meds, eat, hydrate, and rest properly. Get well soon. - Shirabu

masterlist

[peachsukii]

It’s a blessing, and a curse, to let someone else besides Bakugo drive the van on the annual bakusqaud road trip. Kirishima and Kaminari were too engrossed in their own conversation, never looking back at you two for long periods of time.

It was early afternoon, but car rides always make you sleepy. You thought curling up in your boyfriend’s lap in the back seat would be cute, peaceful, but no - this fucker couldn’t keep his hands off of you. For a grueling two hours, he was nothing but a tease, grinning like the devil over your squirming whenever he’d touch you. Bakugo played it off at first, gently running his fingers through your hair or rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone lovingly at your drowsy stupor. It escalated when your crop top rode up, exposing your bralette and tempting him. Thank god you were facing the back of the seat and not the boys up front.

It was subtle squeezes at first, “brushing” over your chest when he’d lay his hand on your ribs or move to rub your back. Bakugo would inch his fingers to your stomach, quietly shifting to cop a feel and act like nothing happened. When he saw your brows scrunch, he decided to push further, splaying his hand across your chest and teasingly slipping two fingers under the bralette to pinch your nipple, flicking and twisting it between his finger pads. His ego inflated when your legs twitched at his touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. It didn’t take long until he was practically using your tits as stress balls, his insatiable hunger for you taking over.

Bakugo didn’t even realize that Kirishima turned into a gas station to refuel and grab some snacks until the van was parked, too caught up in his game to notice.

“Need anything, bro?” He asks over his shoulder. “Kami and I are grabbing snacks, too.”

“Nah, we’re good. Gonna get out and stretch.”

Kirishima and Kaminari head into the store while the two of you exit the van and take a lap around the parking lot. That’s when you notice the bathroom on the side of the building, door propped open and no key needed.

Before he can stop you, you’ve got Bakugo by the collar and bolt for it, practically dragging him behind you. He’s yelling something along the lines of “what the fuck, woman?!” until you’re both inside the grimy one person bathroom, slamming the door behind you. You let go of his shirt and shove him into the rusty sink, pouncing on him like an animal.

“You think you can get away with all that, Katsuki?” You growl, emphasizing his name as a warning. “This is a fight you always lose.”

“Someone’s suddenly—” he tries to argue but the words die in his throat when your hand ferociously grips at his cock through his shorts. His face loses composure at the contact, flushing scarlet instantly.

“That’s what I thought.” You pause to bite his neck, pink teeth marks left in your wake. “You started this, babe. You’ve got two minutes, make it count.”

[cacaocheri]

someone to tell you its going to be alright

[choccorin]

megumi would definitely let you decorate his headphones with bows and stickers or those crochet headset covers ... imagine him looking intimidating and cool in public then you look at his very pink and cute headphones ...