#shit I just might make some rice and put some teriyaki sauce over it I have no energy for anything else hgjkhlj;k

[ind1c0lite]

oh shit thats right i need to eat

[genesisrose74]

A/n: This idea just popped into my head this morning and I needed to write it out, guess who finished in one day instead of focusing on summer school aha ha...so here’s the next edition of Class 1-A quarantine hc’s! I think I’ll include a bit of background for all of these, just for future reference if anyone likes them lmao. Today we have everyone’s favorite nitroglycerin king, Bakugo Katsuki! Hope y’all enjoy cause I’m honestly so soft for this one okay BYE-

Surprisingly, you’re initially part of the Dekusquad, but you’ve always been close with Kirishima and Mina and feel comfortable hanging out with their group as well so you start gravitating to the Bakusquad 

At first, Bakugo is really standoffish because, “You’re seriously friends with that damn nerd Deku” - wow everyone be hating on our cinnamon roll smh

But then he sees how much the rest of Bakusquad likes you and he starts warming up

It starts with small little things like not hogging all the space on the couches in the dorms and having you sit beside him

Then he notices that you’re very forgetful of your jacket and he ends up keeping a spare in his bag just in case the weather gets really bad

“I mistakenly grabbed two this morning, so lighten my load and carry the jacket—I don’t give a shit if you put it on, just hold it will you!�� 

He’s acts all aggressive whenever he tries to be subtle and someone calls him out on it pffft- 

“What the hell are you talking about? You trying to get punched in the face?”

And his feelings are emphasized when the whole class is allowed to use the pool one afternoon and you’re pulling up with Mina and Momo

You’ve got a cute swimsuit and a sun hat on, and King Explosion Murder starts sweating a dangerous amount of nitroglycerin 

Bakugo Katsuki has a thing for soft girls who can pull a one-eighty and kick ass no I do not take criticism

The class wants to play chicken and everyone is choosing partners, but in the corner of his eye Bakugo sees you getting cornered by Mineta 

You’re usually able to handle the horny tornado but you’re feeling a bit too exposed in a bathing suit and start losing your cool

When I tell you the whole Bakusquad BOLTS to come rescue you-

Mineta is literally launched out of the pool by Sero like a rocket ship in orbit and the rest of the group is in this protective barrier formation around you (yes the squad has protocols for this kind of thing don’t even deny it)

Bakugo is beside you in a second with his hands secured on your waist because no one is coming near you like that when he’s around

“Why don’t you be my partner, yeah?”

And that's the story of how y’all destroyed everyone at chicken with absolutely no mercy and Bakugo finds your competitiveness that entire day attractive as hell

Walking back to the dorms afterwards, he pulls you away from the group and the look he gives you is  s e a r i n g

“For the love of God, go out with me” and he does not have to tell you twice

Literally the entire class is SHOOK because you’re actually pretty mellow and Mr. My Only Vocabulary Word Is Die is...ya know...✨volatile✨

But let’s be honest he’s actually a softie if you’re close enough to him (sorry Deku you’re the exception but we still luv u) and everyone ends up adoring y’all being together

When quarantine rolls around and you both have to live back at your respective houses, everything is decently calm for about two days and then you both start getting bored as hell

Honestly longer than you expected 

Bakugo hates social distancing with a passion but he agrees to abide by the rules and ends up asking you to Facetime at least twice a day

His bedroom is actually very tidy ‘cause Bakugo hates clutter, especially when he’s doing schoolwork

I wholeheartedly believe that Bakugo is a beast in the kitchen and y’all can fight me about it because his knife skills are canon and you best believe he learned it to be more independent 

He’s been experimenting with new cooking recipes and is a master at making something out of practically nothing in his fridge, which is really handy when a trip to the grocery store is long overdue

He sends you pictures of his dishes and your responses are all praise and none of it’s exaggerated either; this boy can COOK 

Netflix Parties with the Bakusquad — the chat gets loaded with Denki and Kiri spamming and Bakugo yelling at them in all caps to shut up

Your lock screen is a picture of the group on Facetime and you all have filters on (somehow you got Bakugo to use one don’t ask how); literal friendship goals

And then it’s been about a whole month since quarantine started and Bakugo wants to come visit you, but his mom shuts that down quicker than Barry Allen in the Speed Force

He’s pissed because he and his family feel perfectly healthy but his mother will not let him leave under any circumstances

So when his parents go to visit some relatives who were more susceptible to the virus and needed help with a couple basic tasks you decide to sneak out to see him (in good health of course)

Imagine his surprise when his typically rule-following girlfriend calls and is already standing in his backyard, bags of groceries in your possession

***

Bakugo shot you an incredulous look as you sat at the kitchen table. “You know I could have just opened the front door for you.”

“Yeah, but going through the window was way more fun,” you defended. “It’s not like I’m very rebellious at any other time, so might as well live it up while I have the courage.”

The blond snorted, sifting through the numerous bags you brought along to his house. They were filled with an assortment of foods: vegetables, meat, rice, sauces and the like. 

“What’s all this for?” he inquired, pulling out a bottle of teriyaki sauce.

You couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face as your boyfriend curiously examined the items. “It’s for you to cook with, duh.”

“And how am I supposed to explain the new abundance of food in the fridge to my parents?”

“Say that I had it sent over through Postmates or something. Even I thought of that, Katsuki.”

He rolled his eyes as he placed down the last bag of items. “I can’t believe you snuck out and brought all this stuff,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “Thank you, babe.”

A faint blush rises to your cheeks, despite the fact you’ve been dating the first year student for a few months now. Girlfriend or not, verbal thanks from the King Explosion Murder was rare. “You’re welcome.”

Bakugo turned to the stove and started organizing a number of ingredients on the counter beside it, pulling out kitchenware from cabinets as he went.

“Since you’re here and all, I suppose I could make your dumb ass something,” he remarked. 

Your eyes practically sparkled with excitement at the offer; you were hoping the blond would make you one of his iconic dishes eventually. A ghost of a grin was present on Bakugo’s face at the cheer that left your mouth, his back facing you as he got started. 

You were quick to situate yourself on top of the kitchen counter, Bakugo lifting you by the waist to place you farther away from the flaming stove but still allowing you to watch as he worked. His knife skills were almost scary when chopping up the vegetables, the pace at which he was cutting them astonishing you, and the overall aroma of the space had your mouth watering before he was even close to finishing the meal.

“I feel like a judge on Master Chef,” you giggled, and the boy shook his head at the comment as he eyed a timer he had set for the pork he put on the stove. 

“I’m pretty sure my girlfriend of a judge would be a bit biased over the contestants,” he pointed out. 

You hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, if he keeps looking this attractive while making food I think my bias is justified.”

He glanced at you perched on the counter top, and took a few steps in your direction, cupping your cheek in one hand to kiss you quickly. 

“You’re distracting me,” the first year mumbled, running a thumb over your jaw. “Quit being so cute, dummy.”

You saluted playfully. “Yes, chef.”

He let out a soft laugh before moving back to silence the timer that had started beeping, alerting him that the pork on the stove was ready to go. The blond shooed you away and had you sit at the dining table as he took the skillet and turned off the stove flames.

As you waited patiently for Bakugo to finish up, you sang under your breath and set two spots at the table directly across from each other. By the time he was done, two plates of steaming food in hand, you were already sitting down and twirling a fork between your fingers. 

“What did you end up making?” You asked as he set a plate of rice and pork in front of you. 

“Tonkatsu,” he replied nonchalantly. 

It smelled like absolute heaven, and your hunger was only emphasized in the midst of the fast food you had been surviving off of during quarantine. This boy was even good at presentation, and you began to wonder if he was just talented at everything he tried.

Bakugo took the spot across from you and watched as you took the first bite. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt a bit nervous that you wouldn’t like what he made. But that thought dissipated as quickly as it came once your fork flew into the meal for a second time, and you shot him a wide-eyed look.

“So good!” you exclaimed with a stuffed face, a few grains of rice falling from your mouth and back onto the plate.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full or you’ll choke, stupid,” he reprimanded, but your praise had an evident effect on the male as a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I expect gourmet lunches from you at least once a week when school starts again.” 

“Not a chance in hell that I’m doing extra work in the mornings.”

“I’ll buy you all the ingredients you want~” 

“...I’ll think about it.”

Next thing you knew, all the food on your plate was gone, gladly relocated to your stomach. Rounding the table, you wrapped your arms around Bakugo’s shoulders as he also finished eating. 

“Thank you for dinner, Katsuki,” you hummed contentedly, resting your chin on his head. “It was seriously masterclass, especially after all the takeout I’ve been eating.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he waved it off. “I think a movie of my choosing is in order.”

“After we clean up, hot shot. Your mom would kill you if she realized someone was over.”

“Why wouldn’t she kill you too?”

“Please. Your mom loves me.”

The blond barked out a laugh before standing up and holding your waist, ushering you back to the kitchen. “True.”

Cleaning up was quick and easy with the both of you working together, stocking away dishes and remaining groceries. The evening sky, visible through a large window in the living room, glittered with stars as you sidled next to your boyfriend on the couch, the kitchen and dining room returned to its normal prestige.

“Katsuki?” you murmured, voice laced with a touch of contented sleepiness.

He turned his head from the television screen to face you. “Hm?” 

“I missed you, silly.” 

An arm was thrown around your shoulder and you were pulled closer to the male, who gently kissed your temple. 

“I missed you too, dummy.”

[definitelynotaminion]

Hey baby, how are you doing? Right now it's October 26th at 4:57 a.m. and I'm in bed next to you. Twice now I've gone over to cuddle you and you let me, wrapped my arm with your hand and just let me stay there with my face in your shoulder, close enough to hear you breathe. I ever tell you that sometimes I try to match my breathing to yours when you're asleep, see if it helps me sleep? But when we sleep our breaths are a lot longer with more space between them, and I would always do it for a few minutes and give up. But for those few minutes it calmed me right down. Kind of a meditation, I guess. I did it for the first time back at our apartment. I did it earlier when I tucked into your side and you met me with open arms despite being asleep. You're so affectionate in your sleep; I love it. (We all know I'm mean af, more likely to punch you in my sleep than be sweet). It's October 26th but it's really October 25th’s night, because I haven't been to sleep. My birthday was yesterday and we had cake. I'm laying in bed next to you thinking that there’s still cake in the fridge; funfetti, my favorite. I might go have a piece. I went to the gym at your urging; back when you were awake, but drowsy from the melatonin, and I was wearing the work out clothes mom got me as a gift, and still had my socks on because I wanted to go the gym, too. We had just gotten back from Whataburger; you missed a meal that day and had 1200 calories to spare (It’s the day I woke up at like 3pm and immediately made chicken teriyaki over rice; you went for a walk and I made my own teriyaki sauce, because the watery stuff in the fridge smelled off and I have standards. It was delicious. It's the day we took my car to Whataburger later, and I mentioned that it was odd I hadn't been to McDonald's on my birthday for once; you countered that you had offered, however jokingly. I kept joking that we should go to KFC because it was only 9:25, and surely KFC was still open, as though you hadn't spent the whole time we lay in bed discussing food looking up the calories for the specific meal you wanted. I had my hair in a ridiculous pebbles-style ponytail on top of my head, that I removed and smoothed out when we got inside. I was wearing a star wars jacket over my track suit hoodie over a tee shirt.) You gave me your drink cup so I could have two drink refills on the way home, and not have to choose. I filled my larger cup with lemonade-- shit, I brought it to bed with me about an hour ago but havent drank any; I just fucking realized lol-- and your smaller one with Dr. Pepper. It's still over there on my desk. You probably knew I wouldn't drink it but knew that the opportunity would make me happy anyway. We chilled in bed and I kept my socks on, for once, because I was determined to go to the gym, and you were determined to encourage me instead of enabling me to stay in bed. You're a lovely person that way. I did go to the gym, by the way, as I'm sure I'll tell you in the morning when you wake up (or at 3 o'clock in the evening, if that's when I wake up, if I fall asleep without meaning to). (You made jokes about the socks, but ten minutes into our blogging and chill, your foot brushed my leg in such a way that the hem of my pants rode up, and you touched bare flesh, and turned into Skeletor “Noooaa! What was that. Unexpected. Forbidden.”) It’s the day after my birthday but it’s also the first day I’m away at basic training, if tungle dot hellfire scheduled the post properly. (I swear to god, if it didnt... esp after all those tests I scheduled before I left.) (You just rolled over in your sleep to face me and your arm is pressed firm and soft to my elbow. For the first few seconds after the roll you snored softly through your nose-- very cute-- but now it's just little inhales and exhales. The forearm to my elbow is a very understated cuddle. I'm love him. You're so used to sleeping with me that you don't react or wake when I press close to you, you just accept it and sometimes nuzzle me. You'll hold my hand if I touch your fingers.) I am the most loved person in all the land, and right now I’m probably trying to remember that, shoved in a room with sixty people and no walls. (I keep remembering that this is public and then I'm like fuck it, a blog’s a blog; all the people here for my writing or the fandom stuff or the memes can deal with the lovey-dovey stuff and the waxing poetic about the minutiae of our lives. You're still tucked into my elbow breathing all cute and I'm still typing on my phone, which is on 26%; I should charge it but the charger sticks out the bottom in a way that makes it hard to rest the phone on my chest. It's a running joke now that I never keep my phone charged; that I only charge it when it's on 5%. Actually, at your urging-- though I laugh when you lean over me and hiss at the percentage, though we joke a lot about it-- I've started being more conscious of it, charging my phone before it needs it. Earlier today (the 25th) I put my phone on the charger when it was at 56%. I don't think I told you, but I know you'd be proud of me. (Earlier today I put my phone on the charger in preparation for going to the gym, and it was at 32%. I laid in bed with you to play on it and when it was at 39% you leaned over, already victorious, and said “oh? Only 39%? Put him on the charger!!!!” The exclamation marks are in italics to mimic the way you tapped it, rapidly, you know the motion. And I told you it was already charging and you were deeply shooketh, like I was an imposter. You squinted and said “well it's so small, how could I possibly see from here” in the Grinch voice, and rolled over dramatically; laughing, I chased you, and we cuddled some more. It was a lovely time.) It is (at the time you're reading this) the Tuesday I’ve officially had a “full day” at basic. I think. I probably had my first plane ride today, though if I've talked to you-- they let us make the “scripted” phone call on the first or second night-- it says “hello, I'm fine, I got here safe, he's a phone number to call in an emergency (red cross? Reddit said) and here's the address you write to”-- I only had like 30 seconds or so on the phone to choke all that out and an “I love you”. I couldn't tell you about my first plane ride. I could not tell you that “it wasn't actually as bad as anticipated, though you know I tear up when I get yelled at, so that's a thing.” According to the internet I probably sounded miserable; not because I was literally miserable but because hearing your voice probably made everything really sink in and i missed you. Also right now typing this i have like. A single manful movie tear rolling down the right cheek. Truly I am getting all up in my feelings-- but you're in an empty bed so you'd know, I guess. On the 26th, not Nov 6th, that is. I have no idea if I'm crying as you read this; but I'm a dramatic hoe so it's possible. I'm probably chanting to myself “It’s fine, it's whatever; play the game, don't stand out, go from meal to meal.” however, I have it from reliable sources (thanks reddit) that by the second or third week the yelling gets less yelling and you have the routine down. Then it's kind of like a hardcore summer camp. As I'm laying in bed it's hard to rationalize that I've only got 10 days with you left. A week and some change. The impulse to savor it is there but, also, I've literally got the rest of my life with you, so. I’m looking forward to the other side of basic, to how you can (apparently) have your dependents moved out to live with you if your stay at tech school will be longer than 6 weeks. And mine will, so. (If you're not in basic and I selfishly hope you're not, yet, you can come out there and I can spend my weekends with you, in our apartment with all of our stuff. I want lots of dice and candles. I want to just lay in bed and chill with you. “Cuddle” I want to cuddle but I keep remembering that this is public on my blog and everyone can see it. I wonder why cuddle sounds so weird when none of the other words do. I wonder how fast the first week will go if I keep focusing on “just wait until the next meal, just wait until the next meal.” I'm planning to go buy a book of stamps and some envelopes in the morning. Apparently one of the only joys of basic is hearing your name at mail call. I want you to write me so much, which is hard for you probably; but I want to hear about every little detail. You should print off the latest chapters of Yesterday Upon the Stair or Ashes of the Past if they update, stick those behind your letters. It would make a good distraction and only be a couple pages long. But how weird would it be that i wouldn't even care about them? Not weird at all. Its true that i would care about your letters more that the fanfic. That I just want to hear that you're safe and happy, that you've eaten-- tell me what you've eaten, tell me the calories, it'll reassure me and fill the pages-- tell me jokes and memes and manga spoilers for BNHA. Pass along news from-- or hell, even tell them my mailing address, it's not like it'll be secret-- the discord (kink thinktank or maybe the secret lounge, you know the one). I'm not picky. It will be neat not to be cut off from everybody, if they decide to write. Except tuva. @uintuva I love you but please god don't write to me, I told them I didn't have any foreign attachments when they asked. If anything, pass along a letter to Sach, or Dallas-- have them print it and send it to me; mention no countries. I'm laughing rn. I'll warn them that you'll post the address. If you post a letter every day, or every other day, even if they're short, I promise I'll appreciate them. They'll be like a lifeline to the outside world. They'll reassure me you're fine and assuage me that stress and worry. Please remember that I love you, even if I didn't get to tell you in the short phone call. I likely called you before the flight there. It hasn't even been a day since you've heard my voice. Hell, I forgot-- you and mom and the kids are coming to see me off. I probably saw you earlier today-- for you. It's still October 26 (25th) for me. You saw me this morning but now you're going to sleep without me; it probably doesn't feel weird unless you focus on it. I could be in the shower, or in the kitchen, or at the gym. I could be at Brittany’s house. It's okay to tell yourself these lies, or to imagine me there-- imagine me at my desk, maybe, since you go to bed so much earlier-- to make yourself feel better, to help you sleep. Or maybe it hadn't hit yet and you're fine-- that's fine too. Or maybe you'll be okay the whole time. You'll miss me, sure. But maybe you'll smile and wish me luck and go to sleep easy, because I'm getting what I wanted, according to plan. I hope you find the happy parts of your days-- laugh at the kids, at David, and Jesse-- and write down jokes to share with me before you forget. Don't feel guilty at all, because I don't want you to be sad. I love you. I'm going to try to be looking forward to stuff/focusing on the nice things-- I just snorted a little thinking of you going “whole bed to myself” in the silly smug voice; I can already tell that one is going to be what I imagine at basic, the one I'll remember and smile about. I hope you check your tag and see this, though I'm sure I'll tell you about it. Aren't I so clever, figuring out how to write you even if they don't let me write you? I also set posts to schedule, funny things I scrolled past. The usual things that fill your tag. This way you know I'm still thinking of you; it's funny because I always tag you in things, right now in October, because I want you to know I'm thinking of you. Because I see funny things and think “Dallas” and I want you to see them. I'm so glad the technology exists for me to make sure your tag has new stuff every night while I'm away. I'm going to spend the next ten days (from Oct 26) writing you letters and reminding you of things. (Earlier I told you that I love you, that I love how we talk to each other, that I love the way you joke and how, specifically, you choose to say things to me; that I love how my face fits into your shoulder or your face, that the terms you choose to use tickle me pink. I laugh all the time with you. I'm happiest right next to you. I want to be with you forever.) Oh and here is a reminder: I'm so proud of you for getting through the day. Goodbyes are hard, even when they're temporary. You're not fat and I love you. You could lose the weight you need to lose this month and I’d be happy for you; you could delete the app and gain twenty pounds and be my handsome military husband, and I’d be ecstatic. I love everything about you (freckles) and you can reread this as many times as you need to in the next few days. (Not that I'm saying you'll need to. You're very self sufficient. But if you do need the words, they're here, and there’s no shame in giving yourself what you need.) Day one is done and now I've got to get through the first week. The second will be easier and then, the third, routine. It'll be okay. Everything will be fine. I love you. I miss you. I'll be back before you know it. Please write. Even if it's just a single page with “the dankest of dank memes” on it in size bazillion handwriting. Even if it's unimportant. Especially if it's unimportant stuff. Go around and ask everyone to say one nice sentence to me. Write down the sentence. Now you've got a letter. Tell me about your thoughts and your day. Tell me (android 16 voice) you saw a bird and it was pretty.