toji, who, after a long, annoying mission, comes home, picks you up like you weigh nothing, and carries you to your bedroom to take his frustration out on your body.
I drew this for @asaedw's upcoming pink lock series (since I was lucky enough to have stumbled upon the post early enough to secure my oc a spot😼😼).
This is the team my oc, Ruka is in. The other ocs in the drawing were made by @feliwnni, @alexiaray, and @kacchans-waifu respectively ^^.
If anyone wants to have their ocs drawn too hmu 👀👀
YAP SESSION BELOW!!
ACHDKAJD I had so much fun with this character spread/sheet/illustration whatever you call it. And now I wanna yap about some of my thoughts while making the drawing 🥳🥳
First is RUKA. My pride and joy. The 09 jersey on team W. This absolute mess of a person was the easiest for me to draw surprisingly. She has the most complicated outfit since I TRIED to make it gothic lolita. I think I did a decent job at it. It's not completely gothic lolita but let's face it, I was not gonna draw all that detail. I didn't get the silhouette correct but we're going off of vibes 😞. Also, fun fact I made her asexual because the flag matched her vibe and the more I thought about it, the more it made sense for her so yeah lol. DON'T ask how she plays soccer with long ass hair.
Next up is CELINE. The 05 jersey on team W. Her outfit was the easiest for me to draw. That's not to say I didn't have trouble drawing her at all. My art style dissipated for a while when I was sketching her but it worked out lol. Based on her moodboard, I immediately got barbie vibes. And then I looked back at Ruka and realized she is SO monster high. Anyway, I picked up smart girl vibes from Celine so I tried to make her outfit reminiscent of the dark academia style. But more pink. But omg DONT LOOK AT THEIR SHOES💔💔. I was getting sick of rendering.
Next is NARITO. The 02 jersey on team W. Listen...I know she's supposed to be androgynous. And believe me I asked people whether or not she looked androgynous enough to be mistaken for a man (they told me she just looks like a masc lesbian), but I can't get her features down quite right. To be honest, I didn't follow the clothing style 100% just so I could make her look more androgynous. I kept the main pieces on the photo I used as a reference but with a twist. Also I did NOT realize the gap between 5'3-5'4 and 5'11 was that much omg...
Lastly we have MINMEI. The 01 jersey on team W. I love drawing muscular women and I was originally gonna go the more masculine route, but the picrew I saw of her didn't give me that impression. In my head, she gives off 80s-90s Korean makeup vibes. Yk those red lipsticks and voluminous short hair. Please tell me yk what I'm talking abt.... If I find the name for the aesthetic I'm talking about I'll edit the post. And so I went ahead and made her a bit more cunty 🤗. Since I didn’t want Narito and her to have basically the same vibe, I drew her with the intention of her being more feminine but just so happens to be muscular. ALSO, I was struggling to kind of yassify her outfit. I wanted her to wear something sleeveless to show off her biceps but JUST a turtleneck was a but boring so I added a sweater vest on top.
Sorry chat I got lazy and rushed the last of the rendering. Ruka’s clothing is far from finished but it’s fine since she’s my own oc lol.
PINKLOCK
Chapter 00/Prologue:
You Belong Amongst The Best
Please read the author’s note and the characters' information at the end. (wc: 3153)
2025.
It was never a matter of fate. The position of this ball now, where it will land in the next second, and who will be the first to capture it. All of this must be a random selection of the universe. Or so I would have thought before PINKLOCK. Luck is one of the trillion factors that decide who gets to sit atop our corpses. Who gets to hold the treasure.
The ball flies across the field. I position myself, ready to be Queen. Maybe in one of the infinite universes that I exist in, there is a place where I can be chosen.
To the very right of my foot is a familiar warmth. I don’t get to process it or adjust to the nostalgic scent. The ball obeys her every command and falls to her foot like it's submitting. She read all of it. Every little trajectory, every twirl of the ball, and position of the players that I managed to analyze in these ninety minutes, she knew all of it before me. Her eyes darken as we meet once more, years later.
“Didn’t I tell you? You’re worth nothing here.” I want to deny, to reject like I've always done. Now she runs toward the goal after stealing my crown for the hundredth time while I'm frozen in shock. I became too arrogant. I thought I had evolved. Grown. But she always manages to prove me wrong.
And now, it’s my turn to do that.
November 18, 2018.
I wanted to go home while I was already in it. I reminisced about the times when I had a companion. My other half, who one day changed. It was an exhausting day for me. Waking up early to practice because I didn’t want my parents to know. It’s not like they didn’t know that I was playing soccer. They simply didn’t like it when I did. I hadn’t realized this when I was still younger, but now I do. I was meant to be a vessel for their dreams. So I left for the nearby field in the town.
They’re validation was my first reason to play, but soon, it was gone. The spark of excitement I used to feel when I’d score a goal. It had vanished. As soon as my brother was born.
“We have hope.” They’d cry out in bliss at the sight of him. I was eleven, and I was abandoned. I felt worthless.
I continued to play, however. It felt like the only reason I wasn’t a nobody yet was because I had some skill in the game. I would avoid letting them know, still. They didn’t like it when I had even a glimmer of faith in myself.
“You should focus on studying, he’ll be our champion.”
I had to prove myself to them.
The big game was the next day. Since we had moved to Japan when I was ten, I’d been playing here alone ever since. I had Kieymi at one point. She would reassure me, support me. I got too attached, perhaps. One random day, she changed. She grew hateful and even vengeful of me. I never shed a tear at the people who’d bully me. Not even many for the harsh words I’d hear at home. But a part of me died the day she became his way. We were soulmates. Now she’s a faint memory.
Now I stood there in the empty field from dusk till dawn, hearing an echoing cheer and wishing it were real. I would be playing against her the next day, and just the thought of it sent my heart dropping to my stomach. Kick after kick, I would score goals from different ranges and different angles. I practiced unique trajectories, imagining her begging face looking up at me from below. I wanted to crush her. Destroy her. Like she’d done to me.
Maybe that’s what got me to continue playing. The reminder that she’s better than me at something I began four years before her.
As I was panting from exhaustion and envy, I noticed a dark figure somewhere in the corner of the field. It was a woman’s body. She observed me closely. It wasn’t light enough to read her expression. But she looked almost malicious. I approached, and now I realize it could have been stupid of me to do so. She was harmless, however. She handed me a letter quietly and watched me take it. The now rising sun shed light on her glistening eyes.
“My name is Teieri Anri. My dream is to—“I wasn’t willing to hear a speech, so I turned around and hurried home to open the letter. I had a feeling I should keep it a secret, whatever it was. I felt that this ‘Anri Teieri’ was a genuine person, and she radiated the trust and faith I sometimes wished my parents did in me.
Things didn’t go as planned. They never do. My brother was four years old. He didn’t know any better, but I still almost resent him for that day. I was busy helping my mother with chores. Aman could walk at the time, like many four-year-olds. He saw the letter I had foolishly placed in his reach, which he brought out of my room, my comfort, and into what almost always feels like a battlefield.
“Asa, do you want to explain yourself?” My father stood, his arms to his side. He questioned why I had accepted such a letter. They never forced me to stop, but they disliked the idea of me playing professionally. Accepting a letter that was inviting me to play with real players was a sin in their eyes. My mother soon joined and began her rant. Both of their shouts were in a duet as they spat mild threats at me. My ears rang from the noise.
“Shut up!” I yelled, and then I regretted it. Silence filled the room for a brief moment. Each second felt like an escalation towards an impending doom. I trembled, wondering about the consequences of my outburst. Then, with a sharp pull, the letter ripped apart in my father's hand. I swore I felt my heart rip in sync. The two pieces fell onto the floor.
“You will never play Soccer again. It was never for you.” With that, he turned to leave, my mother clicked her tongue. I remember falling to my knees, picking the two pieces up with trembling hands. She left the dining room, where the scene took place. I wondered why the neighbors weren’t outside our house after the noise and looked at the large window. Kieymi stood there, watching closely. I couldn't read her expression. The vulnerability lay in me because I was naked. She saw through me. She fled soon after a brief eye contact.
In that moment, I knew she’d gotten the letter too.
I clenched my fists, gagging at the thought. She left an imprint of her gorgeous fucking almonds for eyes, her expression so stoic it angered me to my core. I locked myself in my room. Planning to isolate myself permanently. This big stage was for Kieymi. Not a loser like me, I thought. I fell to the floor, my head bent like I was praying to some God for the same blessings he’d showered on her. After a good thirty seconds of choking myself till my face went blue, I ran around my room searching for tape. The letter looked fucked taped together. But I’d made up my mind. Obsession always beats talent.
I was going to go to this ‘Pinklock’ and nobody was going to stop me.
Was it an escape? Was it a dream? I don’t know. When I get there, I want to see her again. And I want to shatter every piece of hope or desire that she’s ever had in the palm of my hand. Maybe… it was revenge.
The next morning came quickly. I didn’t get much sleep, like usual. I had packed all of my essentials, including the now pathetic but signed letter the night before. The night that changed everything. I carried my stuffed schoolbag to the window, from where I climbed out. It wasn’t too high to jump, but my legs still needed a little work. My father probably thought it was another day of school. But little did they know, I was gone for good. I did steal a little cash and some food from the fridge.
I ditched the ‘big game’. My priority was now elsewhere. And I knew that Kiyemi was also not about to appear in today’s match either. There was a given time on the letter, which said that if you failed to show up within, you wouldn’t be accepted. Something about ‘lock off.’ It piqued my interest, and I knew I had to explore it. Today, I feel it was the best decision I could have made at the time. It was a catalyst for my career.
My heart raced as I got into the taxi. I felt that I was doing something so wrong. So shameful. But I hushed the angry voices with music. Soon, I was outside a tall building. It was closed, as expected. The time on the letter says 1:00 p.m., and I was there at three in the morning. I waited outside, trying to get some rest on the bench. I fell asleep soon, in fear that I’d wake up dead. There was no turning back now.
“Asa! Asa-chan!” An annoying voice woke me up. The blinding sun was needles in my eyes despite the clouds following up behind. I rubbed my eyes. A light brown-haired girl stood before me, holding my belongings.
“Who the hell are you?” I rose from the hard bench.
“I watched you play in the sports day this year. Also, be a little more polite, would ya’?” Her voice was bratty yet sweet, matching the honey of her hair.
I finally grabbed the bag from her hand.
“It’s about to close, let's hurry.” She dragged me into the building with an arm. “I knew you wouldn’t show up to today's game.”
“I doubt we know each other.” My response was bland. I wasn’t aiming to make new friends.
“Yonago Kita High, right?” I wondered why this person was so excited to see me. “Ah- my name is Hoshino Tori.”
The gigantic doors behind us shut automatically, and I noticed many of us flinch. I looked around. It was an auditorium full of female players. I noticed a brown girl dressed in forest hues, and a young idol with cotton candy for hair. Then I even noticed two dark skinned women standing side by side. Some stares were intense, some were playful. I was dizzy from the earlier sun and now, the mixture of a hundred fragrances in the room.
Then… I saw Kiyemi. I wanted to hide. After what she’d seen last night, I can only expect that she’ll have a lot to tease me for. Her pin-straight, ash-brown hime cut gracefully blew by her sides as she approached me.
“What do you want?” I began. She ran a finger through my bangs, correcting my messy hair. My eye twitched. How could you be so composed? So… okay with yourself and so confident before me despite all you’ve done to me?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes skimming my features. Her voice was bland, like her expression. She looked as if trying to decode what had changed in me.
“I’m a fucking soccer player, what do you think I’m doing here?”
“Is that so?” Her voice was cold. Nothing like the warmth that once uplifted me. I didn’t grace her with a response.
Tori watched the scene unfold, stepping in. She was blissfully unaware of our past connections. “You wanna be an asshole? Go do it somewhere else, bitch.” She spat out at Kiyemi. She chuckled in response and fled, leaving a pat on my shoulder. I was a bit shocked at the pretty lady spitting such venomous words. But I was okay with it. I traced the place on my shoulder where Kiyemi had just done a moment ago, but then quickly stopped myself.
Then, the lights went out. A lanky man with a jet black bowl cut became prominent on the stage, the blinding spotlight fixated on him. We looked at him curiously. A bunch of gossips were heard before he began to speak.
“And test, test, test. Congratulations and welcome, diamonds in the rough. You are the 300 18 and under strikers who have been chosen due to my arbitrary and biased decision making. And I am Jinpachi Ego, the man who was hired to ensure Japan’s future victory at the World Cup.”
We looked at him like he was insane... Which was our first impression of him, anyway. Hired? By whom and where did the World Cup come from? He continued to speak.
“It’s simple, really. In order to outstrip the rest of the world, Japanese soccer requires just one thing. And that is the birth of a revolutionary striker. I’ll be performing an experiment to turn one of you 300 into the single best striker in the world.” The girls looked around, as if the man on the stage had just grown another head. Did he just say… experiment? We were all equally confused and even a little unsettled by the psychopathic man in front of us.
“Um… sir?” the brown girl in the crowd raised a shy hand, “By ‘experiment’, you mean real training, right? How is your training better than other training camps and team practices? And… who’s paying you?” Good questions, I thought. The man before us now was a freak, after all.
He scratched his bowl cut, “Paying me? Is that all you heard? The JFU will be paying me once a Japanese team wins the World Cup.” He shakes a hand, that money didn’t matter to him, “, and as for what makes my training more reliable than the coaches you’ve been playing with for so long... Let's just say, uh, everything. You will all play a survival style of soccer. Here, it's not just some game, but a battlefield. Your coaches focus only on the physical aspects of the game, whereas your psychology and play style are what truly create your games. I will put you through psychological warfare and break you down mentally. This will restructure you for better playing. Here at Pinklock, you will train in a hyper-modern facility with high-tech and robotic analysis, which you can find nowhere else in this country. Lastly and most importantly, your next games will not depend on your teammates or the power of friendship. But on your EGO. “
We were all suspicious of the man. And yet, we were all intrigued. He continued to speak for three to four minutes about some ‘EGO’ that we lacked. I remember him expressing some pity for the country with statements like, “Is the future of Japan really in your hands?” he looked down at us like we were trash.
“What exactly do you mean by EGO?” a girl with striped hair, who was twirling it around her finger, raised a question, “and how is it a reliable method of securing the World Cup?”
“Hm?” the man was puzzled, he scratched his bowl cut for the hundredth time. “Tell me, why is Japanese soccer still not worthy of a win? No, let me ask you this: What is soccer? Is it about the eleven players working together? The bonds you form? Self-sacrifice? Fighting for your teammates? That kind of thinking is why this country's game has remained weak. I’ll tell you the right answer: soccer is about one thing.” He paused for a brief second, which left us all anticipating his next words: “Scoring more goals than your opponent does.” He shouts out in a frantic scream, which causes us to flinch, his body bending in all sorts of weird ways. We all gasped at the sight of the freak show he was putting on.
I couldn’t help but wonder where this man picked up his ideologies from. And just why did they make so much sense? If all teammates are trying to better each other instead of focusing on creating their own goals, they’ll have minimal and luck-based goals depending on the positioning of players. But if all eleven were self-absorbed ‘egoists’ like this guy wants us to be, we’d create many and potentially legendary goals.
The man then quoted Cristiano Ronaldo, Eric Cantona, and Pele. About their selfishness. I didn’t want to believe him. He was right, but I didn’t want to. It was the opposite of everything I’d ever been taught. It was undeniable. Soccer, at its very core, was about being the one who scores the most goals. Even your teammates are competition.
“You can’t possibly become the best striker unless you’re the biggest egoist. Which is why you’re all here. So I can create a player who has what it takes. Someone to climb on top of 299 corpses. A solitary hero...” he continued. Everyone looked at each other. Some were left with their mouth agape, some frowning.
I felt a sense of disturbing belonging.
Maybe that one thing that put Kiyemi in front of me was this ‘ego’, I thought. Even if she didn’t know or put a label on it yet. Just maybe, if I could achieve something supernatural like she did on that day, I’d be able to demolish her. Surpass her. And that’s why—my foot, without my permission, stepped closer to the stage. The curtains behind him now were raised, and beyond a blinding white, I could not see. It was an unspoken invitation by the madman before us, asking to join him in his fantasies. he smiled like a maniac while he spurted what sounded like idiocy continuously. No one dared to step forward. Yet, I gravitated toward him.
“So what you're saying is...” A familiar voice claws at my nerves. “…Is that only one of us survives at the end?”
I turned to face her once more. Her almonds were now full of anticipation and the same anxiety that was coursing through my veins. I wanted to say nothing and everything to her at the same time. But I only said one, plain warning. I spoke, one last time, yet I knew a hundred more conversations were to come. I ran toward the man, like he was a savior. He did notice me, closest to the gates of what looked like heaven. What could be hell. His eyes widened as he watched me pace towards him, and all I hoped was that what she heard me say last was enough. Enough for her.
“There can't be two bests now, can there... Kiyemi?”
Authors note and characters:-
Pinklock is situated in Japan hence, all characters speak in Japanese but writen in English unless stated otherwise. The first selection will be written in past tense as it falls all the way back to November 18, 2018. It is intended that Bluelock and Pinklock occur in the same universe because after the third selection, Pinklock characters will play against the boys team. The winning team will then play against Japan’s U20. Some characters will be eliminated and some will appear later. You must trust the process. One chapter will be written per month because I am also undergoing finals as I write this. All writing done here is solely by me alone. OCs and their backstory is written by tagged people mostly. Please do not translate, plagiarize or share my work without my permission. All chapters are more that 2k and less that 5k words. You may draw a scene or character but only after permission js granted which you may do in message or ask. Background characters are untagged as they will not have much of a role. I request that all people’s who sent a character tagged below send me their discord username (preferrably in tthe cmnts) so that we may have an open discussion for suggestions and feedback. If you want to add Characters submitted by readers so forth are tagged at the end. I would greatly appreciate if the OCs tagged in this series could reblog my post because that support would motivate me to write further!
🚬 I'm sorry it took a minute, girls, and also I couldn't fit all characters into chapter zero, but don't you guys worry because they will be mentioned when it is your characters' team's turn to play against Asa's. I will try my best to write them all justly and let all of them shine. Also, someone also asked about elimination. if I plan to eliminate a character, I will discuss it with you and justify. I won't do it out of the blue, I love your ocs lol. please enjoy my babes and tell me who's your fav so far.
Find the characters and their rightful owners in my PINKLOCK CHARACTERS post.
girls, im almost done w pllk chapter 0. i know it took so long but girl i wanted to make it as dramatic as possible. a lil hint hehe:
the first sentence is: It was never a matter of fate.
the last sentence is: "There can't be two bests now, can there, Kiyemi?"
Authors note and characters:-
Pinklock is situated in Japan hence, all characters speak in Japanese but writen in English unless stated otherwise. The first selection will be written in past tense as it falls all the way back to November 18, 2018. It is intended that Bluelock and Pinklock occur in the same universe because after the third selection, Pinklock characters will play against the boys team. The winning team will then play against Japan’s U20. Some characters will be eliminated and some will appear later. You must trust the process. One chapter will be written per month because I am also undergoing finals as I write this. All writing done here is solely by me alone. OCs and their backstory is written by tagged people mostly. Please do not translate, plagiarize or share my work without my permission. You may draw a scene or character but only after permission is granted which you may do in message or ask. Background characters are untagged as they will not have much of a role. I request that all people’s who sent a character tagged below send me their discord username so that we may have an open discussion for suggestions and feedback. Rightful owners of OCs are tagged below. I would greatly appreciate if the OCs tagged in this series could reblog my post because that support would motivate me to write further!
Find the characters and their rightful owners in my PINKLOCK CHARACTERS post.
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/qIpSls0
by kacchanswaifu
Atsushi was far from an idealist, but he had dreams—he was only human after all.
He’d come home from work one day to the scent of fresh green tea. It’d be warm from the leaking sunset that’d paint the living room. On the couch would be his cats and a familiar man wrapped in a blanket.
Atsushi would say “I’m home,” and he’d be greeted softly.
“Welcome back,” Akutagawa would say.
That was his dream. A dream now tainted and unobtainable.
Words: 2074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Categories: M/M
Characters: Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Relationships: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Atsushi is in love with Akutagawa, Non-Graphic Smut, Might be OOC, literally don’t know what I’m doing, Off Screen Death, Meeting in a Dream, Atsushi dreams of Akutagawa, Bottom Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Top Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs)
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/qIpSls0
A BUSINESS PROPOSAL — the pro-hero, dynamite, is forced on a date with some ceo's daughter. except, it's just you and your best friend doing your absolute best to scare him away.
word count: 2.4k
cw: suggestive, fluff, not proofread
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite literally a year. i decided to rewatch the drama and omggggg i still love it. i might make a part two bc this was kinda fun to write.
requests
pro-hero, katsuki bakugou, was rapidly climbing the hero ranks the moment he graduated high school. by the time he was 23, he was already one of japan’s top heroes. he had been working his ass off, spending countless hours training and fighting for the dream he had worked for since he was a child, and all of his hard work had finally come to fruition.
unfortunately, there was one thing he didn’t have.
“you need to get a girlfriend, katsuki.”
the blond found himself now trapped in another dreadful conversation with his mother. for the past year, his mother had been pestering him about finding a partner and it made him want to tear his hair out. he groaned as he did his best to tune her out.
“i’m being serious, katsuki,” she pestered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “we’re both getting older and I want grandbabies.”
“you’re not getting any fucking grandbabies if you keep fucking bothering me about it,” the man huffed. “i don’t know why you care so much about me fucking some chick. it’s creepy.”
mitsuki scoffed. “well, sorry I don’t want to you die alone and unhappy.”
those words still ricocheted in his head as he shuffled through paperwork a few weeks later. die alone, he thought. like hell, I need some woman and kid slowing me down.
there was a soft knock on the door of his office followed by the calm voice of his assistant. “mr. bakugou?”
“open,” he responded, not looking up from the papers.
his assistant walked in, closing the door behind him. “todoroki’s agency wanted to ask how the paperwork is coming along.”
“tell him to leave me alone.”
the still unnamed assistant checked his watch, huffing. “sir—” he leaned forward, the tablet in his hand now curled up near his chest— “have you called your mother at all today?”
katsuki raised his eyes, immediately suspicious. “why?”
“yes or no, sir?”
he sighed. “no, I have not.”
“that explains it,” the assistant muttered, leaning back. “she wanted me to tell you that she-”
“KATSUKI!” like clockwork, mitsuki stormed through the double doors of katsuki’s office. the man swore under his breath. the assistant stood aside as the older woman made her way to her son’s desk. “I have incredible news for you!~”
he place the papers on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose, anticipating the worst. “oh boy, I wonder what it could be,” he spoke, sarcasm lacing his jaded voice.
“curb your enthusiasm, buddy.” mitsuki stood tall. “the ceo of XXXXX has agreed to a blind date with his daughter!” she did jazz hands to emphasize it.
katsuki froze. “sorry?”
“you’re going on a blind date with the ceo’s daughter.” she did the jazz hands again.
“are you fucking kidding me?!” katsuki began to raise his voice, evidently pissed off. “you went and set up some blind date with a random woman because you want some fucking grandkids!?”
“I fail to see the issue katsuki.”
“well, there’s fucking plenty!”
“listen, and listen well; you’re going to find a woman to settle down with whether you like it or not, katsuki. plus, wouldn’t marrying into a ceo’s family be good for business?”
“this is fucking ridiculous.” the man stood up and was ready to leave. “it’s not happening. i’m busy all this month.”
“not anymore!~” mitsuki had the biggest shit-eating grin the man had ever seen.
katsuki looked over at his assistant, eyebrow cocked. “that’s what I was trying to tell you, sir, before she…” he shifted his gaze to the older woman “…before she walked in.”
“i also had him clear your schedule.” she chimed in.
katsuki huffed, wanting the world to swallow him whole.
~
“another one? did he forget every other date you’ve gone on?”
your friend had invited you to a nice debrief at the cafe you two had been eyeing for a while. being from a wealthy business family, it was common place for her parents to try and marry her off, but your friend would rather eat lead than have anything to do with this.
your friend huffed, crossing her arms as she looked out at the nearby street. “that’s what I’m saying.”
“and you literally have no idea who this dude could be?”
“well, it is a blind date after all.” she looked back at you, hands now on the table. “but he knows I don’t wanna be set up with some dude just because he’s rich. I only plan to marry for love.” she waved her hands in a rainbow motion on the word “love” to really get the point home.
you took a sip from your drink. “your dad, yeah. doesn’t he know we’re just gonna scare him away again?”
she raised her coffee cup to her lip, chuckling a bit. memories of your two’s shenanigans flooding her mind. “should we do that again?”
“is that even a question,” you grinned.
~
you and your friend had planned for you to go on the date instead. you’d be dressed neatly in expensive clothing borrowed from your friend. she gave you a cute makeup look to make you look expensive and a pretty wig with scarily realistic hair.
the plan was simple:
be as unappealing as possible.
you sat down and waited for your friend’s date to show up. as you waited, you did your best to calm your nerves and fix your makeup a bit. after a few minutes of waiting, a deep voice spoke from behind you.
“you XXXX XXXXXXXXX?”
startled, the compact mirror in your hand shook. you turned around and began to shake even more. the man your friend had been set up with, the man you are about to scare off, the man standing in front of you right now was absolutely, unbelievably attractive. what was his name again?
katsuki bakugou.
katsuki saw your eyes widen for a moment and was about to leave, a bit worried that you were the wrong person.
“yes,” you answered, voice a bit meeker than you had hoped. not only was he undeniably attractive, but he looked oddly familiar. was he some kind of model or actor? “take a seat.” you gestured to the seat across from you.
the blond sat down, visibly uninterested. you, on the other hand, were doing your absolute best to calm your nerves, hands trembling a bit as you raised your water glass to your lips. you took a deep breath. you were determined to make this date fail.
thus began tactic number one.
you let out a deep sigh, drawing katsuki’s attention. “it’s warm in here, isn’t it,” you asked smugly, carefully peeling your jacket off. the dress you were wearing underneath was sleeveless and showed off your shoulders and collarbone. it was far from warm in the restaurant you two sat in, but you were without a doubt going to pretend you were burning up.
no one likes a woman that shows too much skin.
katsuki didn’t even bother with a verbal response. instead, he just cocked an eyebrow. he examined you as you practically flaunted your arms and noticed goosebumps painting the exposed skin. “you have goosebumps.”
crap.
you chuckled, fixing your hair. “i just get goosebumps a lot.”
time for the next strategy.
you kicked your foot against the table. you fake winced, saying a sweet “sorry” as you pulled your leg back. your voice then switched to a high-pitched baby voice as you cooed at your expensive heels, gently brushing them. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” you then turned your attention to the equally expensive clutch near you. “oh, did you get scared, baby?” you continued cooing and kissing your clutch.
a woman crazy about luxury goods. how’s that for a turn-off?
you looked away from the clutch and watched as katsuki typed away on his phone.
was your performance not worth watching?
“what are you doing?”
katsuki’s head darted up before he sheepishly tucked his phone away. “a text from work. sorry.”
this won’t do. on to my last resort.
“I’m so sad,” you blurted out.
“what?”
you crossed your arms, huffing. “I’m so sad. you seem so uninterested in me.” you pouted. “it’s making samantha and rachel very sad.”
the blond’s brows furrowed as he took a sip out of his cup. “samantha and rachel?”
you smirked, holding the sides of the table so your chest was open. “the left one is samantha. right is rachel. i spent a wopping half a million a piece on these babies.”
he nearly choked on his water, coughing as he placed it back on the table. you did your absolute best to not break character. you giggled, leaning back in your seat. “i’m rambling, aren’t i?”
one could say this was your best performance. there was no way in hell that he was going to ask for a second date.
—
“HE ASKED FOR A SECOND DATE?!”
you sat with your head in your hands across from your friend. “I did my best, I swear.”
“if you did your best then why am I going on a second date with him,” she asked, practically crushing her cup.
“he was very persistent, in my defense.”
your friend sighed lowly. “jeez, I guess I’ll have to go and scare him away myself.”
“how,” you asked, lazily looking back up her. “he thinks you look like me.”
“well, i don’t want to see him anymore regardless, so him finding out you’re not the real me should only drive him further, yeah?” your friend feigned calmness as she said that, but you could tell that she was thoroughly irritated. you watched as coffee leaked from under her lid and onto her fingers. she was no indeed crushing the cup.
sheepishly you offered, “I’ll buy you a new drink.”
—
“you want to…meet her again?”
katsuki decided to visit izuku on his lunch break. they were in a nearby cafe, casually debriefing about how their days had been going. izuku, like most of katsuki’s friends, had long known of his mother’s desire for her son to get married and have kids. katsuki had told izuku about the date his mom had set him up on, complaining about how that “old hag”, in his words, had no respect for his boundaries and was weirdly obsessed with him getting hitched off. so izuku was very surprised to hear that the dreaded date went well.
“yeah,” he admitted, digging his fork into his pasta. “I mean, she didn’t seem half bad.” he looked back up at izuku, who held a stunned expression. “quit looking at me like that.”
“sorry, I just didn’t expect for it to have gone so well. she must be a real catch.”
katsuki thought back to what you considered a disaster of a date. it had been so long since he’d met such a straightforward woman. you came across as so honest, so genuine. he…liked that about you. and sure, you were pretty and wealthy, but things like that meant nothing to him. he’d be a liar if he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you on the drive back to his apartment. “i guess so.”
suddenly, there was a loud crash outside followed by a scream. the two men perked up, both now looking out the window. a villain attack?
at the sound of another crash, they dove out of the cafe and onto the street to be met with what they expected. what katsuki didn’t expect was to see was a woman that looked suspiciously familiar.
you had somehow ended up in the middle of the crossfire of this low-ranking villain’s attack. if a hero hadn’t saved you just in time, you would’ve gotten seriously hurt. unfortunately, the moment you got a good look at the hero that saved you, you realized why the man your friend was set up with looked so familiar.
you had gone on a date with the top hero, dynamite.
the two of you stared at each other, face inches apart. katsuki examined your face. he could barely believe it. here you were, standing right in front of him, and he had just saved your life. now would be a bad time to ask you on a second date, right?
“you’re the…”
quickly, you backed away and bowed. “t-thank you so much!” you tried to run away, face burning with anxiety, but his large hand instinctually grabbed your wrist.
“wait a second, how the hell did you get yourself caught up in a villain attack?”
“it was an accident, really,” you said as you attempted to wiggle yourself out of his grip.
“y/n, are you okay,” you friend asked, running up to you. she had gotten separated from you when the attack started. however, she halted the moment she saw katsuki right next to you. “oh no..”
katsuki’s brows furrowed. “y/n?” that’s not your name, he thought. his grip loosened just enough for you to release yourself.
your heart was racing. katsuki, decked out in his signature costume, looked at you with the most perplexed expression you had ever seen. you jogged up to your friend, trying to push her away. “XXXX, we should go,” you muttered.
“hey,” katsuki called out. “you just got attacked by a villain.”
“we’re just fine,” you friend responded.
“i was telling her, not you.” he didn’t want to believe it, but the name your friend called you rang through his head like bullets. it couldn’t have been a nickname. it sounded nothing like the name he knew you as. could it really be…
“let me walk you to the police station, y/n. i have a lot to ask you.”
katsuki thinks it's fucking crazy whenever you get cuteness aggression from him-- a large, brawny, 6'2 boulder who isn't "cute" in any sense!
he may not openly admit it, but he adores when you excitedly rush into the shared bedroom where he's reading on his kindle, glasses perched on his nose. your face radiates with lovey dovey affection as you enter his space. and he loves it even more when you set aside his kindle and climb into his lap, covering his face in sweet smoochies. you wrap your arms around his thick neck and squeeze his body close. you adorably squeal, "missed you so much baby..!", filling up the room (and his swelling heart). you pull back to glance at his face where you're met with an uncharacteristic expression of fluster from your boyfriend.
"...my cutieee!!" you giggle, snuggling into him once more.
and the blond can't even say anything beyond a bashful, "love ya, sweets" cuz he just can't fathom the amount of joy he feels when you express your love for him.
The way hero Touya’s costume is a mix of his dad’s (the innerwear and the gears) along with his signature coat like the one he wears as a villain too (he’s got style, duhh) MAN he would’ve been the coolest hottest hero ever omfggg
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