i ♡ Katsuki

you weren’t friends, but bakugou always picked you to be on his team during PE. he’d look back at you often when he was running for the pacer test, despite you already being out, like he had something to prove. he’d look away quickly after, but afterwards he’d sit against the wall suspiciously close to you. he’d try to wave off your compliments quicker than he could catch his already uneven breath. he’d cough and sputter on his water bottle when you complimented him for holding out so long like you’d insulted him.

“w-worry about yourself ! crap—!“ he’d say in between wheezes, stomping off to his other friends.

you weren’t friends with bakugou. you didn’t really have friends. that’s why during class outings, you always sat alone in the bus. it hurt a bit (a lot) but you at least didn’t need to fight for the window seat, and you had space to place your backpack.

until of course, a thud on your lap makes your eyes snap open, snapping you out of your reverie. bakugou shoved it out of the now empty seat, unceremoniously plopping it onto your lap and crashing backwards into the seat next to you. arms crossed and looking as displeased as he usually did when he was anywhere near you. (but you suspected that was perhaps just what his face looked like.) 

“…did the teacher make you sit with me ?” you ask quietly. 

bakugou clicked his tongue, he does that quite often. 

“No.” he leans further back into his fuzzy seat, his feet dangle lazily and one of them knocks against yours. his eyes stay fixed on his feet as he nudges your foot once more before pulling it back.

“s’just too loud in the front. you at least know when to shut up. so…” he trails off.

bakugou isn’t your friend and doesn’t talk to you the whole bus ride. but he lets you have the window seat. and he sits next to you on the way back as well.

and you really like that. 

you aren’t unfamiliar with bakugou, you aren’t friends and you didn’t talk at all. but you wondered often why he’d do these things for you. why he’d stick around you, why he’d help you despite acting like it was tiring. why he’d call you names but yell at anybody else who did.

“..are we friends ?” 

it’s early morning and everyone is getting ready to start the day, so it was still quiet enough for him to hear you. 

you’re proven correct when bakugou’s spins so quickly you think you hear his back crack. 

due to this month’s seating order change, he’s sitting in the row in front of you now. and despite you both not being neighbours anymore bakugou  turns around every 5 minute break to check your notebook for you.

“makin’ sure your dumbass remembers what i’m spendin’ my precious time teachin’ you.” he’d say, already snatching it from you.

he’d just put his bag down when you asked him what was, to you, a rather innocent question. but based on the look on his face it wasn’t. at all. 

you start getting nervous, subtly, desperately trying to hide it. should you not have asked ? would he find you weird for asking ? maybe this kind of thing was supposed to be unspoken, even with someone like bakugou who always seemed to speak his mind wether you asked or not. (which you didn’t most of the time.)

“why’re you askin’ me that ?” he asks, rather quietly. he doesn’t look angry like usual as he inspects you, waiting for a response.

you swallow, poking and prodding at your fingers. “because..well..” 

you draw a blank.

technically speaking, you don’t have the qualities to be a friend of his. most of bakugou’s friends are louder than you. and funnier (debatable. you sure didn’t think so. he seemed to find them funny— to make fun of, perhaps, but still.) 

and despite all he did for you, you didn’t hang out often outside of class. you didn’t do like in the tv shows; hanging out after class, eat lunch together, you don’t know any of his hobby’s or favourite food or favourite colour, either. you didn’t leave the classroom often during recess and if you did you’d usually find some place to be alone.

so no, bakugou shouldn’t be your friend. but— 

“i’d…i’d like us to be…” you whisper meekly. 

you hope your feeble mumble got drowned out by the sounds of your classmates. and you start to think so when he doesn’t respond.

the teacher signals everyone in class to quiet down and you take the opportunity to get away from his gaze, reaching down to grab your notebook from your bag, mortified at his uncharacteristic silence. 

your eyes tried to steady themselves with today’s exercises. but you’re surprised to see a hand—his hand—reach in and shuffle around in your pencil case. his chair uses your desk as support while he leans as close as possible. so close you could probably count his lashes.

“gimme one. forgot mine,” he says casually. snatching a purple pen he deemed good enough with a non committal grunt. when he looks back up at you—he’s still scowling and you worry hemight flat out tell you what you feared; that no, you can’t be friends. 

instead, he huffs and uses your pen to smack your forehead. and for the first time since he’d ripped your notebook out of your hands and showed you how it’s done you see him laugh. it’s small and it’s mean and it’s at your expense.

“sure, whatever.” 

and then he turns around.

the teacher drones on but you’re frozen in autopilot, writing down words you don’t remember. your eyes keep darting upwards, to the slight glimpse you have of bakugou’s hand. him, using your pen.

when you look down at his feet completely by coincidence, you can see his pencil case sticking out, untouched.

he switches off the sink, scanning around the dim-lit restaurant for a particular someone, but is met with nothing. katsuki frowns, already digging into his pocket for his phone—until his gaze pauses on something, no, someone through the window.

you're across the street, all bundled up—plush scarf and all, yet still becoming a victim to the chilly breeze outside.

it's clear that you're freezing, and it doesn't take the blonde more than ten seconds to head towards the stove, already whipping up some homemade hot chocolate as he anticipates your presence.

with his back facing the door, the man waits for the little bell to ring, singling your weekly approach... but it never comes.

his brows furrow, turning around once more to see what's the damn hold up, but what he sees next—has his eye twitching before he knows it. he grits his teeth, fists clenching as he storms outside, not even bothering about putting on a jacket.

not when he can see the way that bastard is talking to you, calmly offering you some of their hot chocolate, no doubt to warm your freezing limbs, and hand out free samples at the same time. yeah, no, not on his watch.

"oi—! the hell do ya' think yur' doing, hah?!" the blonde shouts, glaring daggers into the other guy's skull as he approaches, and rightfully standing beside you. the salesman visibly flinches, a new trainee from the looks of it, poor guy...

your eyes widened, "b-bakugo-san?! what are you doing out here?! and what the—where's your coat?! it's freezing! ah—"

the words die in your throat as katsuki grasps your hand, tugging you along to follow him back to his shop—where you truly belong—but not before giving his new arch nemesis a childish retort.

"this one is mine, ya hear?! talk to her again and your boss will be hearing from me!"

thump thump. thump thump. thump thump.

you stumble along the pavement, left unbelievably speechless as he ushers you inside the warm interior, the nearby fireplace offering you some much needed heat from the chilly outdoors.

you could only halt as katsuki snatches the sample cup out of your hands, crimson gaze boring into the brown contents as he gives it a quick whiff.

he visibly grimaces, scoffing like he's just discovered a crime within the food and beverage industry itself, "they obviously used some cheap chocolate bar instead of ones with higher cacao in it—and it's reheated crap at best, lazy bastards..."

you sheepishly smile, noticing his eyes snap up to meet yours with a look of displeasure all over his face, gaze calculating and intense, "hah—! don't tell me you were actually gonna drink this mediocre garbage?!"

"what—i—of course not!" you retort, waving your hands around in a jumbling panic, "but i just didn't want to be mean!!!"

he clicks his tongue, practically storming off into the kitchen with grumpy stomps, and marching away like a little kid throwing a tantrum, "hmph, 'course you didn't..."

you sigh, slowly peeling off your jacket to hang on the nearby coat rack as you look around with curiosity. because you couldn't help but notice... that for some odd reason, katsuki always seems to let you inside even after closing hours.

sure, he was a little prickly—but you knew that underneath all that gruffness... he truly did care about his customers. you only assumed you were the exception because he was aware of your late shifts at work, but in reality, it went way beyond simple hospitality,

you were too dense to realize it though—and it was slowly killing him.

bakugo returns a few moments later, grumbling a small "here" as he shoves a cup of his hot chocolate right in front of you, the rich aroma making your mouth water in an instant.

it looked nothing like those 'cheap' samples from across the street, something about it... felt more enticing, as if made with purpose.

you smile, taking a seat on one of the counter stools, and sighing with relief at the first sip, the heated liquid making your body defrost from the inside out.

it was like nothing you've ever tasted before. who could've guessed that such a stubborn man like katsuki would be so good in the kitchen?

"it tastes amazing, bakugo-san—"

he clicks his tongue, not even allowing you to finish that sentence, "thought i told ya' to drop the formalities already, it's bakugo, dammit..."

you giggle, "sorry, sorry! force of habit."

the blonde grunts, already serving you some ramen that he clearly pre-prepared before your arrival. and that single gesture alone... made you smile, "i really wasn't going to drink it, you know? their hot chocolate, i mean."

katsuki's concentration doesn't falter, not even when he's carefully garnishing the meal with green onion, pickled ginger, and some soft-boiled eggs. all toppings he's sure you'd chow down in a matter of seconds, "i know that, dumbass."

you tilt your head at his confident response, confusing dawning upon you, "but—i don't understand—then why did you seem so mad earlier?"

he places the 5-star looking dish in front of you, expression oddly mild despite earlier events. he frowns, "you had ears back there, didn't you? figure it out yourself."

"ah—wait a minute!"

you could only pout as he turned his back to you, steadily moving towards the kitchen to clean up the last few appliances. your eyes glance down to the beautifully decorated ramen, gaze softening at each bite—it was amazing per usual, but...

his words just now...

your brows furrow, trying to recall anything that stood out to you from earlier's encounter. there was nothing out of the norm—except… well… wait : "this one is mine, ya hear?! talk to her again and your boss will be hearing from me!"

you practically jump out of your seat, eyes blown wide as you suddenly connect the dots; the overprotectiveness, him letting you stay after hours—it all made sense now, you just couldn't believe it.

he actually—?!

the heat beneath your cheeks doesn't lessen as you immediately rush over, walking towards the 'employees only' area with timid footsteps. you knock. you don't have too, not when you could walk right in but...

footsteps are heard through the other side of the door, the familiar—a pretty shade of blonde coming into view seconds later. he peers down at you, "tsk, what do you want now— mph?!!!"

you practically throw yourself at him, arms nervously wrapped around his waist, face buried against his chest. you didn't really have a plan in mind—so this would have to do for now.

his eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets, face flushing bright red at the close contact, "o-oi! the hell do you think yur' doin'?! let go, dammit!"

the man tries peeling you off, unsure of what the fuck just clouded your better judgement. but when he can feel your quickening heartbeat against his chest—the shaky rhythm of your pulse? he freezes.

"t-the ramen... doesn't taste that good when you aren't around..." you mumble, voice as faint as a whisper, fingers gripping the sides of his attire—afraid to let go.

he doesn't say anything, not for a while at least. until his hands awkwardly pat your head, averting his gaze elsewhere, though his flushed expression gives him away entirely.

honestly, you're one step closer to getting a heart attack at this rate. especially at his next few words.

"fucking took you long enough... dummy."

Stealing My Blog Layout

Aya's blog is completely stylized the same way as my own, copy/pasting my pinned, rules and tag formatting. Of course I don’t “own” the nickname/pet name of ‘Peach,’ but it’s pretty obvious where the theming came from. The name, Aya, is part of one of my selfship names, ‘ayarei.’ Don’t know if this was intentional or not. The pink divider used was also made by me months ago for an old theme. The icon and header art used are personal comms from @/fittsysart.

copy & pasted rules plus mimicking my formatting.

Stealing My Writing

So far, there have been three pieces of mine that have been stolen and reposted as Aya's own work. I would highlight the similarities, but it would be the whole post (minus one or two words/excluded sentences).

carrying him to his dorm room : theirs / mine

biting as a love language : theirs / mine

hating valentine’s day : theirs / mine

Stealing My Selfship Comms & Lore

I can't believe I have to even say this, but Aya has stolen all her lore for her OC, 'Ayane,' from my katsurei selfship. My own commissions, the copy/pasted trope info and the lore about our daughter, Ryuko. The only "difference" is Ryuko being changed to 'Naoto' and her OC being a hero (but kept my quirk ideology).

She's using two commissions of myself as her OC, 'Ayane.' Ayane's information is Ryuko's info, which is copy/pasted from her selfship page on my blog.

Aya Admitting Fault

I did attempt to message Aya in an effort to reach an understanding, but was immediately met with hostility (not surprised). I'll let the post speak for itself. She also went through my blog (presumably) and followed a bunch of mutuals and recent blogs I've reblogged from.

She followed me, tagged me in a post and then blocked me.

I tried to be as detailed as possible, but I cannot keep up with her blog now that she's blocked me. I have dealt with plagiarism in the past (with writing, my about me facts and selfship lore separately), but this one takes the cake. I'm beyond upset and cannot believe in 2025 I have to say DON'T DO THIS SHIT. I shouldn't have to defend the right to my own fucking commissions, let alone my writing. I’m not even a non-sharer, I don’t care if you ship with Bakugo in any regard. I encourage it! But my selfship with Bakugo is extremely personal to me, especially Ryuko. To have someone come in and just blatantly steal that away from me with no remorse is devastating.