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The sapphic experience is crushing on one of your closest friends but going "I'm not good enough for her/them" but then they end up dating someone who's worse than you
Introducing Katsuki to your best friend from America is a nightmare waiting to happen. He’s still working on his English, so most interactions are translated through you. Not to mention, they hate each other.
“Tell your boyfriend to go outside, he’s pale asf.”
“She says you’re very pale.”
“That’s a compliment, why is she glaring??”
“It’s an insult..”
“😦-😾 tell her to get a skincare routine!”
“He says, you have bad skin”
“Oh he’s one to talk, he’s got a face only a mother could love!”
“She thinks you’re ugly.”
“THIS BITCH- tell her deodorant is only 500 yen”
“He says you should invest your money better”
“Oh rich boy over here! Tell him to-“
These interactions could go on for hours if they could. But there are plus sides! Katsuki’s English has improved since meeting her. Mostly because he noticed his insults weren’t getting a big enough reaction, and realised you were watering them down.
Katsukis search history probably:
- English swear words
- Words that make white people mad
- Words that make white people mad that an Asian man is allowed to say
- What slurs am I allowed to say
He’s grumpy for a while when he finds out there’s basically no socially acceptable slurs he can say.
- How to make American girls angry
His scowl only got bigger when all he was met with was articles saying he was being racist to white people. He was met with one final option.
Reddit.
Walking into your boyfriend falling down the AITA rabbit hole was not something you expected to come home to.
Eventually, you caved and gave him some new vocabulary.
Friend - 0
Katsuki - 1
— — — — — — —
I’m unfortunately obsessed with the idea that Katsuki hates Americans.
I don’t know why I used America in this, I’ve never been there LMFAO
This is a great joke, but it’s also a wonderful strategy for reducing anxiety that I learned about in therapy. If you’re ever nervous about something, just ask yourself: what’s the best thing that can happen? What’s the worst thing? What will most likely happen?
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Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.
You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).
But this was Bakugou, after all.
And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.
Not a good sign.
“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.
Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.
He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.
“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”
“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”
Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.
He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.
“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”
“Absolutely not.”
Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material.
It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.
You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.
“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.
“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”
“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features.
“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”
Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.
“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.
“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”
Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.
He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.
“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”
Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.
He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.
“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.
“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment.
“Formula first before adding 1.3.”
He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.
“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”
“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”
He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.
“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”
“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.
Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.
His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”
“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.
Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.
He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.
With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”
Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.
It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe.
Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.
He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”
“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”
Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.
“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.
“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”
Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another.
“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”
He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.
“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents.
Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.
“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”
His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.
“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.
Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”
“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.
Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.
His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.
His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.
Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.
Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come.
“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.
Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“
“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”
By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”
“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.
“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”
“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“
“Delete that.”
“Hey— wai— no way!”
It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.
are we still friends? can we be friends? are we still friends? i’ve got to… know.
to say you didn’t expect to see a pair of bright red eyes staring you down as you walked into the facility was an understatement, you hadn’t made eye contact with those eyes in over a year, and you flinched the moment you realized just who you were looking at.
you’d stumbled into inasa once you snapped out of your daze, catching yourself quickly as your cap hit the floor, the boy using his wind in order to float it back onto your hand.
“thank you.” you mumbled before going to take your spot in line, coincidentally right next to your former best friend.
“why haven’t you called me?!” so now he wants to begin a conversation.
“been busy.” you shrugged, refusing to even look at him because you knew you’d start crying the moment you met his eyes again.
“okay? you could’ve texted me or some shit!”
“my phone stopped working.” you were competing for the title of nonchalant final boss at this point with how casual you were being.
“bullshit. i saw you with it at the exam! just tell me why you’re avoiding me like the plague.” it may not have looked like it, but bakugou was scared out of his mind. you’d changed since the licensing exam, he could sense it in the way you carried yourself. you were being cold.
“what the hell happened to you?? you used to always call me, always text me. what happened?” did he seriously not know what happened?
“you happened.” and that was all you were able to say before the proctors for the training session entered the room, quickly commanding you all to stand in line as your face changed to a softer expression.
it was a casual sparring session, so why were you sending rocks the size of boulders his way? his mind was too clouded to even dodge them effectively, the words you said still playing out in his mind as he mindlessly sent out explosive attacks.
you’d tried to pack up as quickly as possible afterwards to avoid a confrontation with your former best friend, but you heard the clanking of his boots hitting the ground and just let out a sigh.
“what?” you snapped.
“what me? what you!” he was starting to get angry, the way he would get angry back in middle school.
“what about me?! you’re also at fault here. i was the one always trying to get in contact with you! i just grew up and realized that if you wanted to, you would.” you begun to shove all your things into your duffel bag, accidentally smashing your fist into the ground.
“what the hell does that even mean?! you’re the one who stopped calling me outta nowhere. i didn’t tell you to do that.”
“don’t you get it?! i was the one always calling!” you shoved your bag to the floor as you stood up straight, your voice getting strained as you finally made eye contact with bakugou.
“i was the one who always had to start talking to you first! it made me feel like a nuisance. and then one day i hear you telling your new friends that you think i’m annoying? like what the fuck, katsuki. none of this is my fault. if you’d just been a man and picked up the phone, this could’ve been avoided.” you had a habit of crying once you got frustrated, so naturally the tears were threatening to fall from your eyes.
he didn’t have any words, letting out a scoff as you picked up your bag and shoulder checked him on your way out, sending him stumbling back as he just stared at the ghost of your presence.
later that night he sat in his dorm room, his finger hovering over your contact but never once pressing on it, unsure of what he’d even say if you decided to pick up.
“i mean how the hell am i supposed to apologize? she’s so confusing. like damn sorry i called you annoying but it isn’t even that big of a deal anymore that was months ago!” bakugou was ranting to his little group of friends that were huddled on his floor, suprised that the boy would even invite them, let alone drone on about his issues with the friend that none of them even knew about.
“so you called her annoying but you didn’t know she was listening?” mina spoke up.
“yes but that was months ago! i don’t even know how to talk to her anymore because she won’t listen to me.” he sprawled flat on his bed.
“sounds like you’ve dug yourself a deep hole bakugou.” kirishima said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.
meanwhile, back at shiketsu, your group was currently huddled in camie’s dorm, and you sat on the bed while they formed a circle around you.
“i don’t know who he thinks he is but i am not going to beg for him to be my friend, i am not going to be as pathetic as i used to be!” slow teardrops fell from your eyes as you recalled back in middle school when bakugou found more friends and slowly begun to leave you behind.
“i know, and i get that, but you should at least try to give him a chance. he’s making an effort.” she tossed you your phone that was sitting on the desk, a notification on the lock screen.
[kats 💥🫂]
Meet me at the spot tomorrow. Please. 4 PM.
tags; @riverozada @lupitalove @msjaeger @aintseennothinyet @wendeeeee ask and you shall receive sorry if its kinda bad 😢😢
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He killed his yonger brother in cold blood because he was jealous of him. There is in no way anything funny about this. No hesitation just poped a rock over his turned head, droped his body over the edged and tried to lie to god about what he did. FUCK YALL CRAZIES!!!
for the people who say that shadow never smiles...i have to say,you have living in a BIG lie all this time and actually its something that he does to much and i really love see shadows simling :D
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