bratzblondie

[bratzblondie]

seriously, bro, it actually makes me insane. Anyways, my first post on there 😅. I’d seriously appreciate if you guys went to go like and follow.

Why is singleness treated as a disease?

It’s exhausting being the only friend who’s never been in a relationship. And when I say never, I mean never. I haven’t had a guy show interest in me, haven’t flirted over Snapchat, haven’t held hands, kissed, dated, none of it. And honestly? I’m okay with that. Really. The problem isn’t me being single. It’s how other people react to it.

Everyone around me seems to be in a relationship or trying to push me into one. Most of my friends have already had their first kiss. Great for them.

I don’t care. I’m not in a rush. If it’s not my time, then it’s not my time. What irks me is the way people treat my singleness like it’s some kind of issue. They make comments, some joking, some not, like, “Why haven’t you been in a relationship yet?” or “You need a man A$AP.” No, I really don’t baby girl.

I’m not judging anyone for wanting love. That’s human. Everyone deserves connection. But some people act like being single is a disease. Like this girl who said, “I can’t imagine not having a boyfriend. I need one all the time.” Then she turned to me and said, “You need to get one.” I laughed it off, but seriously?

And every time I try to explain why I’m not dating, it’s the same simple truth: the guys at our age aren’t mature. I’ve heard how they talk about girls, even their own girlfriends. It’s gross. And if a guy tolerates his friends being disrespectful like that, how do I know he won’t treat me the same way?

This doesn’t mean I never want a relationship. Of course I do. I’d love to get married and build a life with someone someday. But why force something that isn’t right just to keep up with everyone else? So many people are chasing that “high school sweetheart” story, and that’s fine, but not everyone’s timeline is the same, and that should be okay.

I know people say not dating in high school can lead to things like lack of experience, missing red flags, being left out, etc. But I’d honestly rather go through that later than waste my time with someone I can’t even stand. Some relationships are just practice, and that’s okay, but why should I have to practice if I’m not ready or willing?

And it’s not like I expect to meet “the one” right away. I get that relationships don’t always last. People grow, and people change. But again, why is there so much pressure to be in a relationship?

What really gets me is seeing people jump into toxic relationships and then act like I don’t understand because I’ve never been in one. Like my friend who got cheated on repeatedly by her first boyfriend, but kept going back to him.

Eventually, she broke it off, thankfully, but even then, she considered going back. When I questioned it, she said, “You don’t get it, you’ve never been in a relationship.” And no, I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you’d stay with someone who cheats on you.

That’s not love.

I also don’t get how people have crushes so easily. I rarely do not because I’m cold or picky but because for me, it’s not just about looks. Sure, physical attraction might start things, but if someone’s personality is trash, I’m immediately out.

There was this guy I used to like cute. It seemed nice until I heard him mocking a kid with autism. After that? Instant ick. I can still acknowledge he’s attractive, but I’d never want to be with someone who treats others like that.

Sometimes I wonder if my standards are too high. But then I remember, why should I settle? Yes, compromise is part of any relationship, but basic decency shouldn’t be negotiable. If a guy’s disrespectful to women or others, how do I know he won’t turn that on me one day?

I know I kind of veered off, but all of this just makes me angry. It’s okay not to want to be single, but why is it not okay to be single and be fine with that? Being single doesn’t mean I’ll never fall in love. It just means I’m not forcing it, especially not for people who aren’t even close to what I’m looking for.

© 2025 blond1va

[bratzblondie]

I was supposed to release a fic with him today... maybe tomorrow, but happy birthday, our pomeranian king!

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

i miss his annoying ass

[bratzblondie]

Auuuu new theme new theme lovelyyyyy

peaches is always commenting on my new theme. Love you for that! Make this a regular, babes. <3

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[bratzblondie]

how i feel after changing my theme every 3-5 business days

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[bratzblondie]

AHHHHHHH!!!! THIS IS *CHEFS KISS* PLEASE GO READ IT! NEXT PART NEEDS TO BE ON MY DESK NOWW

Sprayed secrets

Archenemy!Bakugou x reader

𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚𓆝 You're locked in a bathroom with your enemy. What secrets come up?

A/n: There will be a part two! This was the hero x hero in the poll. I think I ate lowk.

If there was one person you hated with all your heart, it was Bakugou fucking im-better-than-you Katsuki. That fucking BOY got on your fucking nerves. Somebody had to put him in his place (Not that you hadn’t) by tripping him and making him eat shit. His cocky attitude and constant yelling often made you fantasize about seeping mustard gas into his room in the dead of night. You hadn’t yet through sheer willpower.

So, colour yourself rainbow and call yourself Pedro pony when asked why and how the fuck you ended up in the shower with him.

You both sat fully clothed under the cold spray of the shower, drenched to the bone. Your backs were pressed up against opposite walls, just staring at each other as the two of you bent your knees to fit in the cramped space.

Honestly, this was all Kirishimas fault. After Izuku and his friends got Bakugou back from the LOV, he never was quite the same. And you suppose everybody was concerned You included so his friends decided that locking him in the bathroom with one of them until he spoke was the way to deal with it, and you just happened to get stringed into their obnoxious schemes.

Honestly, it made no sense, sure you lost rock paper scissors against Kirishima but like from a logical point of view, it was his worst enemy vs his bestest little friend. Why in the world would they lock him in a room with you over Kirishima? Were they all stupid? He would never talk to you.

You had started off on separate sides of the bathroom, but your patience quickly died a few hours in. If you were forced to be in a room with him, it might as well be for a reason, or at the very least to have it done with.

“Get in the shower” You had said harshly.

“No what the fuck? You pervert.”

“What? No you weirdo. I think best in the shower, so we’re going to talk in there”

He had obviously fought it, and he could tell you didn’t want to do this just as much as him. But after his so-called friends didn’t unlock the door even after three hours, he decided he might as well, if only to get out sooner.

So thats how you ended up here.

Maybe you didn’t tell him the whole truth though. The water also helped in feeling more protected. Less vulnerable. It was easier to ignore the tear slipping down his face as he recalled what happened, easier to brush it off as just the water. It was easier to ignore his voice cracking, easier to play coy and say you didn’t hear anything over the water roaring over your head.

But something had shifted. The conversation had started off with Bakugou realising that neither of you would be let out until he started talking, so he did. It started mundane, he kept up his strong persona, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. But he could see that you saw straight through his bullshit, yet were choosing not to call him out on it. It was slow, but he gained some respect for you, not enough to stop hating you but enough to acknowledge you weren’t all that bad if you were choosing to not mock him when he was talking about his most vulnerable moment.

Perhaps the same happened to you. You saw through his bullshit. But you also saw he was used to putting up a front, something you knew personally. It was a defense mechanism as much as it was self-preservation. Maybe you had to give the real Bakugou a chance.

“It was… hard” He whispered, and you understood him. Any idea of putting him in his place was gone, you were just two people who had been through a lot.

” I know what that's like” You whispered back

“You do, don’t you?” He replied chuckling dryly.

You don’t know when you started sharing parts of your life too but letting him be the only vulnerable one felt wrong. You never meant for it to get this far, but over the past few hours, he knew things about you that you had never dared to mention out loud to anybody, and it was the same for him.

You were strangers. Enemies. Yet you both shared secrets that were so… personal. Words that would never see anything past the cramped dingy walls of this shower. Yet they were the same words that slowly crumbled both your walls, that you both connected over, over things nobody should have ever experienced let alone connect over. Eventually, the thought hit you like a truck.

Maybe Bakugou wasn't so bad.

It was another couple hours until you were both let out, both of you were shivering despite being under hot water, your skins wrinkling and lightly purple. Your friends were panicked, and the two of you were dragged away to the different dorms to be taken care of.

Looking back at him as you were doted over by all the girls, you saw him staring back receiving the same treatment.

You squinted as he mouthed something.

KATSUKI.

That's when you knew.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Do not plagiarise/copy/post on other platforms. All work is @peachesvault original works. | Masterlist

[bratzblondie]

⌗02 — 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, KATSUKI BAKUGO, GATE 3-A.

chapter 1 : childhood, interrupted.

previous <- : series masterlist : -> next

CONTENT WARNINGS : slight smau. profanity (barely). kamijirou ship. typical high school party activities. Jirou may be an op? (jk). 3rd person pov for bakugo. cue oc character (brief). social anxiety. mention of “shot roulette.”

BLONDIE’S NOTES : Again, ignore the time on the message. I don’t bother to make them accurate. There might be inconsistencies on information. If so, please tell me! Things are gonna get crazy. Beware that oc (you’ll find out her name soon) will make you insane, mwah.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @nina-from-317 @harryzcherry @kye1aaazene @kalulakunundrum @cielito--lindo @happinessisabutterflie @sakuraszn @dahhliaa @bakugoubaby @jazoewazoe @loliesaregreat @blissin6s @vicdik @yk-raji @meowsannie @toriiee @yelocaltrashcan @littlestinkybastardman @napbatata @iamaconfusedpan @personally4runa @peachesvault

3 new messages from minaaa <3! 📧

You immediately regretted accepting Mina’s request.

Like you said before, parties weren’t your thing.

Too loud, too hot, and way too many people. You were just starting to understand that the moment you stepped into 3-C’s dorm building.

Mina hadn’t exactly told you where the party would be held, but 3-C’s dormitory was the only one with thumping music shaking the floorboards and a chorus of voices shouting over it.

So that’s where you went.

The moment you stepped in, though, you wanted to bolt.

The music was blaring, the air was thick and humid, and people brushed past you like you weren’t even there. You could swear people were staring. Maybe they weren’t, but it felt like it. The kind of staring that made your skin itch.

And of course, you didn’t see Mina anywhere.

You didn’t know a single person here. You probably looked like a total loser, standing by the door with your arms clenched around yourself like a lost freshman.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a group of girls whispering and laughing. Their eyes flicked toward you for just a second too long.

They were definitely looking at you, weren’t they?

Probably talking about how busted you looked.

Your oversized hoodie hung off your frame awkwardly, and your sweats had a stain near the hem that you’d sworn wasn’t visible in dim light. Guess not.

Your heart picked up speed, and your hands started to sweat. Great. Where the hell was Mina?

Maybe you could still dip. You’d barely been here five minutes. You could tell her you got lost trying to find your dorm and didn’t want to show up holding your suitcases.

…No, that wouldn’t work. Mina had practically given you a virtual tour of 3-A’s dorm over FaceTime. Even walked around outside to show you the surrounding area. She’d know you were lying.

What were you gonna do? Maybe you could—

“Y/N!”

Mina’s shout sliced through your spiraling thoughts. You startled as her hands landed on your shoulders, her cotton candy-pink curls bouncing as she jumped in time to the music.

“Ah, I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Yeah… me too…” you lied. It wasn’t that you hated being with Mina. It was just the party. You were pretty sure you’d already sweat through your shirt, and your spine hadn’t stopped bristling since you stepped through the door.

But Mina gave you a knowing look.

She didn’t need to know you for years to see through you. Those two weeks in Bali together were more than enough to learn how you worked. You were awkward, standoffish, and hated big crowds.

“You don’t have to lie, babes. C’mon, I want you to meet some of my friends!”

“Oh, I dunno, I think I’m fine over here, honestly—”

But she was already pulling you by the hand through the crowd. You stumbled behind her, dodging dancers and spilled drinks until she stopped in front of a small circle of people.

“Guys! This is my friend Y/N I’ve been talking about! Say hi!”

The first to speak was a blonde guy with a jagged lightning bolt in his hair. His smile was so bright it made your eyes squint, and he had an arm slung lazily around a girl with dark purple hair and a single earjack.

“Hey Y/N! Nice to meet ya!” he grinned. “Mina hasn’t been able to shut up about you.”

“Even referred to you as her twin,” the girl beside him added dryly, her pierced eyebrow arching. You couldn’t tell if she was joking or actually annoyed.

The boy beside them had black hair and wore a chill, easygoing smile, definitely gave off hippie vibes.

Next to him was a redhead with shark teeth and arms that looked like they gave amazing hugs. His smile was so wide it was almost disarming.

Then your eyes flicked to the last boy in the group.

And froze.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even smile. His spiky ash-blonde hair looked like it had been permanently tousled by a grenade, and his red eyes, seriously, red, looked like they were staring through you instead of at you.

He looked familiar in a way that made your stomach twist. Like a feeling more than a memory. Like déjà vu.

There was something in his stare that burned.

“Say something, Y/N!” Mina nudged you, grinning.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then, you forced something out.

“Oh. Uh… hey. Hi. I’m… Y/N.” You sounded like you’d forgotten your own name. Flawless. Amazing first impression!

The redhead stepped forward, ever the savior. “So! Where are you from? Or like… where’d you move from before U.A.?”

“Oh. Um. Everywhere, kinda. I move a lot. Not everywhere everywhere, obviously. But like, a lot. Not… never mind.”

Silence.

“Well, that was cute,” the hippie said with a laugh, trying to soften the awkwardness.

Then, thank god, someone shouted from behind you.

“SHOT ROULETTE!”

Half the group immediately peeled off, hollering and pushing each other toward the direction of the chaos, leaving you standing there awkwardly next to the one person who hadn’t moved: the boy with the burning red eyes.

Seriously? Mina left you with him?

You folded your arms, glancing away, hoping he’d ignore you too. He didn’t exactly look like a conversationalist.

Bakugo didn’t even know why he was here.

Actually, he did. Kirishima had nagged him until he caved.

But he didn’t know why he was standing next to you.

Mina’s “cool friend from Bali” was not what he expected. She’d made you sound awesome. Confident. A little blunt, maybe, but in a funny way.

But the girl standing next to him looked like she wanted to disappear. She didn’t even try to pretend she was having a good time. In fact, she looked like a stuck-up bitch.

“You look like you hate it here,” he said finally.

Your eyes snapped up. “What gave it away?”

He smirked. “The way you’re standing like you're gonna bolt. You always this awkward?”

You rolled your eyes. “Only when I’m forced into places I don’t wanna be.”

He chuckled, which was somehow more shocking than his insult. “Fair.”

A pause.

He glanced at you again, tilting his head. “Where’ve you lived? You said ‘everywhere’?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. Moved around a lot. Indonesia was the most recent. Before that, Germany. Then California, then somewhere in Canada for like three months, then—”

“Alright, alright,” he cut you off, raising his hands. “Damn.”

You smiled a little at that.

“What’s your name again?” you asked, mostly just to kill the silence.

“Bakugo,” he said, like you should know it already. “Bakugo Katsuki.”

You nodded. “Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

He stiffened slightly.

He’d heard your name before, a lot, actually. But never your last name. And now that he heard it, something clicked.

“Wait, did you attend—”

But before he could finish, the sound of heels clacking rapidly on the floor cut him off.

You turned, thinking it was Mina swooping back in to save you.

Nope.

It was a girl you didn’t recognize, dressed in something that barely passed as clothes, high heels, a tiny crop top, and jean shorts that looked painted on. Her long, honey-blonde hair was curled to perfection, and her eyes were sharp and furious.

“Katsuki, what the hell?” she snapped, venom in her voice. “We’ve barely broken up, and you’re already with some new bitch?!”

You blinked.

Oh.

Well… this just got interesting.

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[bratzblondie]

Mitski supremacy!!!🙇🏾‍♀️

whenever i read ‘baby’ or someone says ‘baby’ everything fades into blurred lines and my babyyyy my babyyyyyyy you’re my babyyyyy say it to meeeeeeee baby my babyyyyy tell your baby that im your baby

[bratzblondie]

⌗02 — 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 KATSUKI BAKUGO, GATE 3-A.

prologue : who am i? well, even i’m not so sure.

previous <- : series masterlist : -> next

CONTENT WARNINGS : slight smau. second person reader POV; third person for Bakugo POV. emotionally distant parental relationships. cultural references to Bali (may contain inaccuracies, please feel free to correct!). kamijirou ship mention (sorry in advance). past Bakugo relationship mention (brief).

BLONDIE’S NOTES : Ignore the time on the messages, I also messed up a tad on them. It’s not that noticeable, nor does it matter, but I’ll say so anyway. Anyhow, this is relatively a long “chapter,” I normally don’t write this much, how to some of ya’ll do it?

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @nina-from-317 @harryzcherry @kye1aaazene @kalulakunundrum @cielito--lindo @happinessisabutterflie @sakuraszn @dahhliaa @bakugoubaby @jazoewazoe @loliesaregreat @blissin6s @vicdik @yk-raji @meowsannie @toriiee

The scenery outside blurs in sun-warmed streaks of gold and green, late-summer fields flashing by as the route bus hums steadily down the road.

You shift in your seat, the fabric beneath you rough and faded, patterned moquette scratched from years of passengers doing the same.

A light weight presses on your shoulder. The person next to you, a stranger, has dozed off and leaned into you sometime during the ride. You don’t have the heart to nudge them away.

Your gaze drifts back to the window. Mountains in the distance. A glimpse of Fuji’s crown on the horizon. Another new town. Another fresh start. Musutafu

A city nestled in Shizuoka Prefecture, known for its fragrant green tea fields, its botany research centers, and that towering guardian on the skyline, Mt. Fuji. A postcard kind of place. Beautiful, stable. Peaceful.

To anyone else, this would be exciting. A new place. A new culture. The adventure of a lifetime.

If you hadn’t moved around the world your entire life, that is.

But you have. So to you, this isn’t thrilling. It’s exhausting.

You lost count of how many homes you’ve had after the twelfth move. The suitcase at your feet is more of a home than any place you’ve lived.

Brazil. Greece. Thailand. Mexico. Iceland. Italy. Hawaii. Canada. India. Africa. China and most recently, Indonesia. You’ve seen temples rise into the clouds, deserts sprawl into the horizon, and jungles vibrate with the buzz of cicadas.

And yet, you’ve never really belonged anywhere. Never planted roots. Never stayed long enough to watch the seasons change twice in the same place.

Your parents are to thank for that, not that you hold it against them.

They work in international disaster relief. A government-funded emergency response team that specializes in areas devastated by villain attacks or natural disasters.

They’re the first to arrive after the storm, earthquake, or explosion… and the first to be relocated once the next one hits. Whether it’s France or Peru, they go where they’re needed most.

You’ve always admired that about them. Truly. Heroes in their own right. But admiration doesn’t make it easier to say goodbye every other month.

Or to walk into yet another unfamiliar school with yet another new name tag.

Navigating a relationship with your parents? Complicated. They're kind, brave, and endlessly driven but distant. Always distant. Not on purpose. Just... not always present.

Still, you're grateful. You know more than most kids your age, about the world, about people.

You've eaten street food in Bangkok at midnight and prayed in silence at shrines older than history.

You know how to say “hello” in 25 different languages. You can name all the major religions and point out tectonic fault lines on a map.

But knowledge doesn't soothe the ache of isolation.

You remember your first move like it was a scar.

You were in third grade. Eight, maybe nine. Masegaki Elementary. You were one of the popular kids. Bright. Liked by teachers. The fastest runner during recess races, except against him.

What was his name...?

Katsumi? No, Katsuki.

Yeah. Katsuki. That sounds right.

The two of you were inseparable back then. You remember afternoons spent at his house, flopped on beanbags, watching reruns of All Might’s old rescues that aired on local TV at 3:30 p.m. sharp. He was loud, rough around the edges, but there was something about him you liked. Maybe it was his fire. His confidence.

There was another boy, too. Quiet. Gentle. Always had a book in his hand and a nervous smile on his face.

Izu... something? Izuo? Izuku?

It’s fuzzy now, but you remember the way he listened when you talked. The softness in his voice.

You never got to say goodbye.

One afternoon you came home, and your life was in boxes. Your bedroom stripped to the skeleton of what it once was. The “For Sale” sign on the lawn felt like betrayal.

“We’re moving to Las Vegas,” your mother had said brightly, trying to spin it like a game. “It’ll be fun!”

“And we’ll be back before you know it,” she promised, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.

But “soon” never came.

You tried to stay in touch. At first, it worked, texting, late-night calls despite the time zones. But replies grew slower. Messages stopped being returned. People moved on. And then, one day, your mom's phone was destroyed in a field operation. New number. New everything.

Just like that, the thread snapped.

After that, it was always the same. A new school, a new uniform, new faces. You made friends, because you had to. Became popular, because you knew how to adapt.

Liked by teachers, because you were polite and bright. The fastest on the playground, because you’d had a lot of practice running.

But the moves kept coming. So you stopped trying so hard.

Then came the fear. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest whenever you had to speak in front of people. The fear of walking into a classroom where everyone already had a history without you.

You became the “new girl.” Always the “new girl.”

Days, weeks, sometimes months behind everyone else.

And the worst part? Connection.

You're not sure you've had a real one since third grade. There’s never been time. You’ve become a cameo in everyone’s story, a blur in the background of yearbook photos.

Romance? Don’t even go there.

Seventeen years old and you’ve never even held hands with someone in that way. No stolen glances. No first kiss. Not even a crush that lasted more than a week. You haven’t “snapped” anyone. You don’t have anyone to snap.

Maybe you’re too awkward. Too distant. Or maybe people just don’t care enough to try when they know you’ll be gone by the semester’s end.

So what’s the point?

…Still.

This time, things are going to be different.

Not because of romance. You don’t have time for that.

This time, you’re here for one reason, and one reason only:

To get your hero provisional license, and finally graduate high school.

Simple, really. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad.

After all, you actually had a “friend” attending U.A. with you, or the closest thing to one you’ve had in years. You met her three weeks ago during a festival in Bali.

There were fireworks in the sky, lanterns strung across the trees, and laughter spilling over every street.

You were trying to find a food vendor, your stomach practically begging for something greasy to take back to your small apartment you and your parents share when someone collided with you full-force.

A pink-skinned girl with cotton candy curls and the wildest energy you'd ever seen went flying, her container of nasi campur launching like a confetti bomb across the pavement.

You remember gasping, instinctively apologizing even though you weren't completely at fault.

She looked heartbroken staring down at the food like she'd just lost her best friend. Without thinking, you bought her a new one. And that was all it took.

The two of you ended up talking for hours, sitting cross-legged on a cracked curb, food in your laps, music playing faintly in the distance.

You talked about where you'd been, where she wanted to go, the best hot springs in Indonesia, her dreams of being a hero, and the way you still weren’t sure what “home” was supposed to feel like.

Then it came up, you were leaving soon.

“Oh my god,” she’d squealed when you said Japan. “Wait, wait, wait, but where in Japan?!”

“Uh... Musutafu?”

You swore she’d vibrated on a different frequency after that.

And when you mentioned you'd be attending U.A., you thought she might’ve actually combusted into glitter.

Back in the present, the soft buzz in your jeans pocket pulls you from the memory.

You shift slightly, trying not to wake the person still snoring lightly on your shoulder.

You fish your phone out, the screen lighting up with one unread message.

one new message from minaaa <3! 📧

A party.

On orientation night, no less.

You blink at the text, already imagining the dim lights, loud music, too many strangers packed into one dorm like sardines in a can. Not your scene. At all.

Too loud. Too hot. Too everything.

Your fingers hover over your phone, ready to type out a polite decline... but then you pause.

Mina’s been nothing but kind to you. She's been your guide to U.A. before you even arrived, sending you voice memos and outfit recs, telling you which teachers were strict and which ones secretly loved sweets.

She didn’t have to do any of that. But she did.

And if you said no now, you might regret it.

So you answer.

one new message from bali bestie ✨️✨️! 📧

“Score! She said she’d come!” Mina all but screeches, practically bouncing on her toes as she flails her phone in the air like she’s won the lottery.

Sero, walking past with a box of dorm supplies, raises a brow. “Wow, you’re really hyped about this girl coming, huh?”

“Well, duh,” Mina grins, placing the phone gently on the counter like it’s sacred. “Y/N is soooo cool! You guys are gonna love her. She's a bit awkward and kinda standoffish, but once you get to know her? Total gem.”

Kaminari calls out from the kitchen, mouth full of chips, “Don’t we already have enough standoffish people? Todoroki, Bakugo, Kyo…”

“Shut up, Kaminari!” Jirou snaps, barely glancing up from her spot curled on the common room couch. She flips him off without missing a beat.

Kaminari gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, baby.” He stumbles out of the kitchen like a soap opera star and collapses into her lap.

“Get a room!” Sero shouts, tossing a throw pillow at Kaminari’s head.

“Stay jealous, you’re still single,” Kaminari fires back, making a raspberry sound as he dodges the pillow with a smug grin.

“Who’s jealous of who now?” Kirishima asks as he and Bakugo step into the dorm with another load of boxes.

“Oh, forget that,” Mina says, hands on her hips. “The only thing that matters is my twin’s arriving soon!”

“I thought I was your twin?” Jirou questions, raising a pierced brow.

“You are, Kyo baby,” Mina sings. “Y/N’s just my shy twin.”

Bakugo grunts, dropping a box full of potted succulents on the floor. “You’re still goin’ on about that girl?”

“Well, yeah,” Mina retorts, arms crossed. “She’s amazing!”

“Please. If she’s anything like you, I don’t need another loud extra in my life,” Bakugo mutters, scowling.

“She’s not like me! I mean, okay, kinda, but like, in a chill way. You’d like her, actually. She’s pretty attractive, y’know…”

“Mina...” Kirishima warns, shooting her a look that says stop before you die.

“Don’t even, Pinkie,” Bakugo growls.

Mina huffs, puffing her cheeks out. “Come on, Katsuki, it’s been months since Asam—”

Kirishima quickly claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Nope. Noooope.”

Bakugo stiffens at the name. His eyes darken for a second, jaw clenched like a trap ready to snap. He hasn’t so much, as said her name since—

Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.

“What’d you say that girl’s name was again?” he asks, voice surprisingly calm.

Mina blinks. “Who?”

“That girl you keep screeching about.”

“Y/N. Why?” Mina asks, her smile twitching into curiosity. “Do you know her?”

“Tch. Hell no,” he says with a sharp scoff. “Name just sounded familiar.”

“Uh-huh.” Mina smirks. “Or maybe you’re intere—”

“Shut up,” Bakugo growls, already turning toward the elevators. “I’m going to my dorm. Later, extras.”

And just like that, he’s gone, the air still charged in his wake.

one new message from minaaa <3! 📧

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[bratzblondie]

⌗02 — 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 KATSUKI BAKUGO, GATE 3-A.

✈ IN FLIGHT PLAYLIST! 〔jam out while you board〕 :

⤷ sneak peek: How could I forget that face, I don't even know your name. I'm in love with a ghost girl, all alone in a lonely world I just really wanna find her.

✈ FLIGHT PLAN! 〔synopsis〕 :

You’re the new girl. The mystery transfer student with too many passport stamps and not enough memories to call “home.” You’ve spent your whole life moving, city to city, country to country, never long enough to fall in love or stay rooted. Relationships? Not your thing.

Now you’re finishing your final year at U.A., and this time, you’re staying put. No mess. No drama. No distractions.

Until him. Katsuki Bakugo. Your childhood best friend turned stranger. Loud, explosive, impossible to ignore… and maybe the only one who remembers who you used to be.

✈ BAGGAGE CLAIM! 〔content warnings〕 : childhood friends to strangers to lovers. emotionally constipated reader. pining bakugo. social anxiety rep. traditional writing with smau elements. fluff. angst. slowburn. miscommunication. oc character who will piss you off. chapter-specific CW’s provided.

✈ CABIN CREW! 〔character manifest〕 :

you : suitcase always half-packed. playlists for people you miss. soft hoodies. shy but observant. allergic to feelings. “always the new girl.”

katsuki bakugo : jaw clenched, fists looser than they used to be. quiet loyalty. eyes that burn. “one who stayed.”

mina ashido : glitter eyeliner and contagious laughter. hypes you up when you’re spiraling. pink sugar with a punch. “emotional support, gremlin.”

eijiro kirishima : loud laugh, bigger heart. snacks in every pocket. wants everyone to be okay. “ultimate wingman.”

note : there will be other’s these two just are slightly more important to the plot.

✈ FLIGHT LOG! 〔archives〕 :

• 4 I 17 I 25. prologue : who am i? well, even i’m not so sure.

• 4 | 18 | 25. chapter 1 : childhood, interrupted.

✈ FREQUENT FLYERS! 〔taglist〕

25 | 50 comment to be added!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @nina-from-317 @harryzcherry @kye1aaazene @kalulakunundrum @cielito--lindo @happinessisabutterflie @sakuraszn @dahhliaa @bakugoubaby @jazoewazoe @loliesaregreat @blissin6s @vicdik @yk-raji @meowsannie @toriiee @yelocaltrashcan @littlestinkybastardman @napbatata @iamaconfusedpan @personally4runa @peachesvault @adv3rs1ty @moochiwoochi @d4rlinxs

BLONDIE’S NOTES : My second story (for those who’ve been on my account since the beginning). As always I have no specific posting time, the idea just popped up after reading a hopeless romantic fic w/ katsuki. I use memi message for texts and twinote for Twitter (X) type posts. The banner is a template I found off canva and I changed the colors (it’s inspired by loveriotss banner from her series). All credit to whomever made it! Thank you for all the support — bratzblondie signing off!

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[bratzblondie]

Ur theme eats so hard goodness and your a bakugo girlie I fear we’re on the same freakquency

I literally love you <3

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.