stellar ✴︎

20s ✴︎ she/her ✴︎ filo

[stellar-quirks]

✴︎ Hi! I'm Stellar. I interact from @stellar-headquarters (see other fandoms I write for here). This account is sfw, asks and dms are open! Reblogged content is tagged by character. For original posts:

#stellarwrites for my fics

#stellarverse for my self-ships and oc's

#stellarspeaks for my mha rambles

#stellarreplies for responses to asks

for au's:

[reichuus-deactivated20260126]

— the rule of three ✩ k.bakugo x reader

There's an unspoken rule that gets established early on in your relationship with Bakugo, one that he assumes you know after a few months together.

The rule in question? You need to kiss him three times before you leave his apartment; one for luck, one for the road, and one just because.

One day, you're in a rush to get out the door, running late for a lunch date with your friends. You're bouncing around his apartment to be sure you have everything — phone, keys, wallet — and place a quick kiss to his lips as you pass by him in the living room. "I'll be back in a few hours, love you!"

Bakugo grabs your wrist gently, tugging you back toward him with a pout on his face. "Nuh uh, c'mere." He pulls you over his lap, cradling you while tilting your chin up to face him. "You're askin' for trouble if you think we're done here, sweets."

You blink at him in confusion. He rolls his eyes, no actual annoyance behind it, and shakes his head. "Ya only gave me one kiss, you know better than that."

"Oh, so I owe you—"

"Damn right you do," he cuts you off with a cocky little smirk that he's too good at doing. "Three — no ifs, ands or buts. And mean it, none'a those quick bullshit pecks, real kisses."

Of course, what were you thinking? You lean forward and press the first kiss to his lips, soft and gentle. "One," you whispers before following up with two more, slow and purposeful. "Two and three."

"Much better," Bakugo whispers with a genuine smile. He lets you get back to your feet, a large palm on the small of your back to support you. He pats the back of your thigh once you're steady. "Love you too. Have fun with the girls, but not too much fun. Don't wanna chase ya down the sidewalk again after you throw back four mimosa pitchers to yourselves."

note: still wanna smooch him 3000 more times. the idea of him pouting about not getting real kisses makes me wanna melt. like oh I'm sorry you want affection? my bad mister anti-touch lol

[meru90]

:p

[cassielsunstone]

Bonus pats

[peterokii]

i think shoto does the thing cat do when you hover your hand above their head

[seumyo]

tokoyami taking care of you when you’re sick.

“You look like you’re ready to ascend to the afterlife,” Tokoyami said, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

“Maybe I am, Fumi. Maybe this is it for me.”

“You have a mild fever and a sore throat. Hardly fatal.”

“But it feels fatal,” you whined, your voice scratchy. “I’m so weak. I don’t even have the energy to do my nails!” You wiggled your bare fingers in the air for emphasis, looking utterly defeated. “Ugh, they’re naked.”

He tilted his head, his beak twitching in what might have been amusement. You could hardly tell. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not. I can feel my soul leaving my body, Fumi. I’m… so… cold.”

He rolled his eyes but reached for the extra blanket folded at the end of your bed, draping it over you with a sigh. “There. Better?”

“Thank you. I felt like I needed to tell you about my last will and testament.”

“Your sense of drama is impressive,” Tokoyami replied, his tone dry.

“It’s a gift.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry, Fumi. I’ll haunt you lovingly.”

He reached for the tissue box and handed it to you. “You’re not haunting anyone. Blow your nose.”

With a pout, you accepted the tissues and complied. “Ugh, even my sneezes aren’t cute right now,” you muttered, your cheeks flushed not from embarrassment but from your fever.

“Your sneezes are rarely cute,” Tokoyami pointed out.

“Rude,” you sniffled.

Just as you were about to unknowingly fall into a deep slumber, Tokoyami reached for the small tray he’d brought with him, holding a bowl of soup he’d made earlier.

“You need to eat first,” he said. “Eat, then sleep.”

You stared at it like it was the most daunting task in the world. Plus, your exhaustion most likely killed your appetite.

“I don’t think I can lift the spoon.”

He sighed again but didn’t argue. Instead, he carefully picked up the spoon and held it to your lips. “Open.”

You paused. “You’re feeding me?”

“Would you rather starve?”

“No?” So you did as told.

Tokoyami fed you a spoonful of warm soup, a recipe he had to call his mother for, satisfied that you’re complying. “See? Not so hard.”

“Thanks, Fumi. You’re the best nurse ever.”

“I aim to serve,” he replied dryly, though you could tell he was pleased.

Such dramatics.

“Fumi?”

You looked at him with bleary eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light illuminating your room. “Fumi,” you said again just as he finished setting the tray aside.

“Yes?”

“If I don’t make it… promise me you’ll keep my sticker collection safe.”

Tokoyami stared at you, his expression utterly unamused. “You’re going to make it.”

“You’re no fun,” you pouted.

“I’m not ready to take responsibility for your sticker collection. That is a big responsibility, even for me.”

You laughed, though it was a weak and raspy sound. “You’d love it! There’s so much glitter.”

“Glitter is not my aesthetic.”

“Well, maybe it should be.”

“Well, you should rest,” he shook his head, gently adjusting the blanket around you. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

As the hours went on, you grew quieter, your usual energy completely sapped by your cold. Tokoyami stayed by your side, of course, reading quietly while you dozed off just to make sure that there wasn’t anything too concerning with your cold.

He wishes that your sickness would go away sooner because he can’t stand seeing you like this. Though you can always count on him to take care of you, just like in the future vows of, “In sickness, and in health.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[fenkko]

some of my fave bnha characters!

[fenkko]

tsuyu’s new boots! (speedpaint)

[fenkko]

deku’s instagram photos!! his earlier posts are a lot of quirk analyzing and yelling about heroes, but now he mostly likes taking photos of friends and tagging them in animal pictures

there’s still some pictures of hero fights when he sees them though! (pictured below: kamui woods)

drew all this to celebrate making my new art instagram! :D

[fenkko]

shoujo shouto

[stellar-quirks]

obligatory shouto tag: @oleander-cup

[twoplayergaymers]

Your Side of the Room— O. Uraraka

You’re just roommates. You share toothpaste, playlists, snacks. Sometimes beds. But not feelings…Right?

Fic notes: quirkless au, aged up, college au, just fluff, maybe a little angsty if you squint

A note from Haley: and they were roommates..oh my god they were roommates

Ochaco Uraraka doesn’t expect to like her roommate.

An only child, she’s never shared a room in her life, but it’s not the sharing that’s the problem. It’s the sharing with who she suspects is some stuck up,snobby rich kid who’s parents are paying their way through college while she’s on financial aid and has to work two campus jobs, that’s the problem.

She doesn’t expect to meet you.

She arrived at the room first, chose her side and started to unpack the few boxes she’d brought with her to school when the door creaks open.

She turns and her eyes meet yours. She smiles, greets you warmly and offers to help wou with your things. She sees the keychains on your bag, niche to music and movies she also loves and she compliments them.

You spent the whole first night up late talking. You click fast.

Weeks pass, you notice many things about her. She’s always sweet, tidy, she does cute things like leaving you a granola bar on your desk when she knows you skipped breakfast. She’ll bring you your favorite cookies from the dining hall if they’re serving them just because she knows it’ll make you smile. You notice how she furrows her brows in concentration and how she puts her hair back when she really wants to focus. The types of things she laughs at, dumb.. really dumb memes.

But it’s the little things. The routine you’ve established. Sharing music recs and earbuds, movie nights in each others beds, brushing your teeth together.

You know what this is and you tell yourself not to fall. You do anyway.

And it’s stupid,really. To fall in love with your roommate. Your roommate who you’re also almost certain is straight. So stupid.

Ochacko feels strange. Strange like she doesn’t like how hard you laugh at jirous jokes..or how much time you spend with her. Strange like..who even is she anyway? Strange like.. I wonder what it would be like to kiss a girl.. to kiss y/n..to..

Neither of you want to ruin what you have, so you don’t. There’s long hugs and love filled glances, and brushing hair from each others faces in ways that are totally platonic.

Some nights, she swears the air between you hums.

Like when you’re lying in her bed, both of you half-watching a movie on her laptop, your head resting on her shoulder. Her arm is pinned under you, but she doesn’t dare move it. You smell like something warm and familiar—like vanilla lotion and the lavender spray you both use on your pillows.

You’re quiet, not asleep, and neither is she. But neither of you speak.

She doesn’t know how to ask if this means anything. If you mean something.

So instead, she just shifts slightly, enough that your fingers brush. She hopes you’ll take the hint. That you’ll wrap yours around hers, that you’ll be the brave one. You always seem so sure of yourself.

But you don’t.

Instead, your breath hitches. You gently pull your hand back, just to tuck it under the blanket. Not a rejection. But not permission either.

The movie ends. Neither of you comment on it.

The next morning, things are normal. Painfully normal.

You brush your teeth side by side. You hand her her coffee just the way she likes it. You compliment the way she braided her bangs back.

And Ochaco nods and smiles and says thank you, and everything is normal—Except it isn’t.

Because when you lean across her to grab your water bottle, your face is so close. Close enough that her brain stutters and blanks and screams kiss her. And when you pull back, her chest hurts with the weight of everything she isn’t saying.

She wonders if you feel it too. She’s starting to think maybe you do. She’s also starting to think maybe that’s worse.

Because neither of you are saying anything. And maybe you never will.

It happens late—too late to be saying things like this. You’re brushing your teeth side by side, the overhead light humming.

You glance at her reflection in the mirror. She’s tired. Bare-faced. Beautiful in that quiet, easy way that drives you a little insane.

She’s got a little toothpaste in the corner of her mouth and you wipe it away with your thumb, caressing her cheek, softly.

You don’t mean to say it. Not really. But it slips out between the minty foam and a held breath:

“Are we…just pretending this is platonic?”

She freezes.

You rinse your mouth, then step away from the sink, suddenly unsure where to look.

“Ochaco?”

She turns. Her eyes are wide. Guarded. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, voice barely holding together. “Because sometimes you look at me like I’m more than your roommate. And I think I look at you the same. And we never talk about it. So I’m asking. Are we pretending?”

Silence.

Then, Ochaco says, “I don’t know.”

Her voice cracks. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know when I’m with you, I feel… everything. And I don’t know what it means, and I don’t want to mess this up, and—”

You step closer. Not touching her. Just enough for her to feel you. “I feel everything too.”

She looks at you then. Really looks. And maybe it’s the beginning of something. Or maybe it’s a line you both can’t cross yet.

But either way, the pretending stops.

Ochaco doesn’t move right away. Just breathes, her eyes locked on yours, like if she blinks she’ll lose this moment. The one where everything is cracked open and raw and true.

You’re so close. Close enough that she can feel your warmth. Close enough that she could just reach out—

And she does.

A hand at your wrist, trembling, but steady enough. She looks down, then back up at you. Her voice is a whisper, barely there.

“Can I…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence.

She doesn’t have to.

You nod, and that’s all it takes.

It’s not fireworks, not cinematic—it’s hesitant. Careful. It’s minty. A kiss that barely brushes. That pulls back, only to lean in again. And again. Until it’s something soft and full and real.

When you finally part, she’s smiling. So are you.

No one says what it means. But it doesn’t feel scary anymore, not when you face it together.

——

Tags: @poemeater @mimzyu @beabamboo @superlegend216 @cxvii666

[isaut]

tenya iida you are going to love sitting in a dark living room and clicking on the lamp when you hear your kid sneaking back in and asking them if they know that time it is

[puppyaulait]

I’m holding a plush survey to see which plush I should send into production next ! Please have a look if you want and vote for your favorites :)

[puppyaulait]

Mha mascots

[mintmatcha]

sometimes aizawa comes home late from work in a rare affectionate mood, only to find you asleep with the cats piled on top of you. like they fucking know.

[rosesforshoto]

on a softer note, shoto loves seeing the relief on your face when he emits his quirk on you. he switches it according to the weather; right side for hot summer days, left side for cold winter nights. (loves keeping a hand on you at all times. whether it’s holding yours to pull you through crowds or on your lower back when you’re waiting in line at a store)

you jokingly call him your personal heater/ac one day and he absolutely takes pride in it. other people may call him that but it pulls a genuine smile out of him when you say it specifically

[mashoji]

Ojiro emoji I made!

He’s so adorable, look at that little face ☺️