#alr had this design but she gave me the idea of the ears

[thekitschdiet]

the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

  Who is the Kitsch Girl? 

 I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall-  with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that.  If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on.  I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced.  One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

[iguanasarecute]

"U.A.'s Lingerie Collection" [Bakugou x Reader]

summary: a company launched lingeries designed with the female top-heroes. You, a graduate of U.A., was one of the designs. You and your bestfriend, Ashido; planned a disguise, on the first-day of lingerie launching; to peek on the underwear collection. Though, you unexpectedly stumbled to an Ash-blond; your old classmate in U.A., also in disguise, and purchasing your lingerie design. Fuck you Katsuki Bakugou.

note: this is from the future where you and bakugoat graduated alr and are pros

warning: duhhh its a lemon, swearing  | words: 2,440 | insp: the real thing

[Start]

"Seriously (Y/N), your face is literally sewn on it!" Ashido cackled, scrolling on her cellular device, while both of you sat at the back, above the fucking trunk, "Your costume design's also the lingerie design!"

You growled, "Have you seen yours? It's—"

"Well duhh, pink," she grasped her shades and adjusted it, her head tilted to you,"(Y/N), am I properly disguised?" her fingers gave a thumbs-up. The air from the moving vehicle slapped you.

You glared at your bestfriend, grinning at her, "Just make sure to put on your hoodie. You're eye-catching because of your pinkiness," you instructed.

She rolled her eyes, "We're eye-catching because we're sitting on a trunk! Why couldn't we just get inside the taxi?" the pink-girl whined. Well...

You scrutinized at the people walking on sidewalks, giving you weird-looks, "We're heroes," you snorted.

"Uhhh okay...And the point?" she raised her eyebrows.

You gave her a look, "We can patrol easily! Duhh! We're making weird-shit, atleast make something hero-thing with it," Your friend gave you a surrendered glare.

"Okay, swear to me you'll keep your mouth shut," you held on your pinky for a pinky promise.

The pink-haired female nodded, and collided her pinky with yours, "Just for a laugh; and see the actual lingeries, no interacting to avoid being recognized. Just take a picture, and.... we gonna skedaddle," she announced your given rules.

"Perfecto!" you expressed while your hands raised up.

The nauseating taxi halted, as you ogled the crowd outside. The two of you hopped off the vehicle and stared wide-eyed at the long ass line outside the store.

Ashido cleared her throat, "Damn, we're here. I'm Uhh—"

Your palms flooded sweat at the sight of the people, "Wow, they really want our lingeries,"

— • —

Being a tuna in a can, the fucking line hasn't been moving. For your prosperous plan, Ashido and you weren't recognized by the citizens. Both of you were stuck in the middle of the congested crowd, leaving no choice but to lend your ears to the murmuring of people.

* "Man, your bigtime hero crush, (your hero name) has additional stocks of it! A lot of people are rooting for her underwear!" ~ "I adore Creati's and Pinky's!" ~ "Is this even legal?" ~ "The classics one are the best! Midnight's lingerie's are hot!" ~ "Hoping the Froppy one wouldn't be sold out!"~ "Fuck, I would die if (your hero name)'s lingeries doesn't restock," *

All you ever did was gulped on your saliva while perverted men talk about their sexual thoughts towards you. Ashido grinned at you nervously, probably hearing what you're also hearing.

The lingeries was on a local channel, it was a commercial during a late-night drama show. Then it erupted and escalated throughout social media. You had no idea that it would be a hit; that people would be supporting a hero-designed lingerie.

A husky voice boomed somewhere in the crowd, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, if (your hero name)'s got fucking sold out. I'll honestly blow the whole place off! Don't you ever dare take 'em all! I'm talking to you people!"

Another voice jabbered, "Bro, you really do like (Y/N) since highschool,"

Your eyes went round, searching the congested people, finding who's the owner of those two familiar voices.

The second voice chuckled, "Why did you let graduation slide without really confessing?" You spotted a red-haired man in a bandana, you were about to yell 'Hey dude with the red-hair!', but first of all, you need to limit your interaction, and—

"THE STORE'S OPEN!!!!" The crowd went wild and were pushing everyone to get in the hell-store.

Your pink bestfriend was unseen as the two of you parted while you were pushed in random places. You inhaled as your feet touched the store, the whole fucking store with the hero lingeries. Don't they sell other stuff here or it's just really a hero-special-day?

   Every female heroes has their own design on each corner. People gone fucking wild. Sprinting to each table, grabbing the familiar faces' lingerie. It was drop-dead eerie. The heroes you look up to, Cowgirl, Mt. Lady, and other heroes on the designed underwear.  What would they think if they saw their faces on underwears?

  Though, the feral folks on the Adult-pro-heroes section, can't be compared to the untamed shoppers on the Fresh-pro-heroes section, where all the vivid lights turned into.      

         You recognized your old-classmates' own designs; Uravity, Froppy, Earphone Jack, Creati; your damned bestfriend's Pinky was also there. An invisible lingerie for Invisible girl?

        Your eyes darted on the one where mostly all people are at; your fucking lingerie design. Your mouth shot open at the morbid crowd, feasting on your face, feasting on your costume design, on a goddamn underwear. Is this how a public face works...

       A hard muscular body bumped you, that brought you sitting down the tiles,"Hey!"

A tall hooded man, with a mask and sunglasses muttered, "Oh shit, sorry," he offered his hand to bring you on your feet once again. Your head tilted on the familiar voice, and the familiar grasp....A rough warm hand. Your eyes squinted to peek better, an Ash-blond hair showing a little below his hoodie. You gave him a stern look, as he rapidly jolted off.

He's familiar. Is he a fucking villain? He's a fucking villain.

— • —

You squeezed your body to the feral shoppers, as you reached your own lingerie design. It was fucking difficult to do; much more complicated than fighting a villain. You sighed in relief as you gazed at the empty table. Your eyes lifted on the poster above, your hero poster, with another poster that says 'SOLD OUT.'

Wait what the fuck. You didn't came here to not see what other people would be masturbating later! You stared at the poster, '(YOUR HERO NAME) LINGERIE, ¥10,550'.  — [10,550 YEN is somewhere between 95 US DOLLARS]

Your eyes went round, "People buy this expensive shit?"

A husky voice chuckled, "I know right; but what can you fucking do. Gotta love (Your hero name)," you gawked at the man's hand, holding your lingerie.

You rolled your eyes, and looked up to see the man. The man. The fucking man who bumped you. The goddamn villain. You cleared your throat, and tapped his shoulders, "Hey, I know who you are,"

The man grunted and faced a red-haired man, muttering, "Oi, shitty hair, mission fucking failed,"

His red-haired companion glared at you and back at the villain, "Dude what should I do? She might recognize me too,"

So he brought fucking backup.

The villain slapped the back of his accomplice and growled, "You useless piece of shit!" His body faced yours, as he clicked his tongue; looking at you in complete disgust. Your jacket was oversized, pants were oversized, as well. Your cat-eye sunglasses; and ofcourse, Your head was sweating as shit from your Apple-Cut Wig.

He coughed, "Hey, I don't usually give fucking autographs or photos. But to keep you quiet and you know, to not cause a stampede here. I can give you an autograph or another sappy shit,"

Your eyebrows raised, "What the fuck?"

His eyes rolled behind his sunglasses, "I can give you a goddamn hug with the duration of a second. Just don't tell anybody who I am," his eyes looked down, "...And who's lingerie I'm buying,"

Your mouth shot open, "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" You stepped closer as you pointed at him, "Don't play around, Villain!"

The man looked at you in confusion, "I'm a fucking what?"

You rolled your eyes, looking at the untamed shoppers. Whatever's this Villain's gonna do, It's gonna affect a whole lot of people, "Don't play dumb! I don't know what's your fucking intention is! But I'm going to call the police and tell them a Villain is here!" You spat.

His red-haired companion blinked, "Well this is awkward," he glanced at the speechless Bakugou, "Bro, she's going to call the cops. Your fucking reputation... I— Uhhh. I'm going to check out.....Midnight's lingerie,"

The ash-blond was unable to construct words, "Wait, what the fuck?"

You gave him a death-stare as you glared much deeply at the suspected villain. Your eyes roamed and memorized his facial features, incase he escape. You gazed at his sharp jaw, his face-shape covered by the mask and his sunglasses. Those ash-blond hair... he seems familiar, but not as a villain, "You're not a villain, are you?"

"The fuck I'm not!" The man spatted back.

You touched your forehead with your palms, as his husky voice echoed in your mind. That voice... Is he... Omygod, "Katsuki?!"

He looked at you in confusion. Your eyes darted down at the lingerie. Oh shit, he just bought your lingerie.

His warm rough hands clasped your wrists, as he started walking. You had no choice but too follow the Ash-blond. The thought of him buying your lingerie, still lingering in your brain. Fuck you Katsuki Bakugou!

His tight grip on your wrist made you squeal, "Get off me Bakugou!" He ignored your pleading whimpers; as he pulled you at the back-door of the store. His head moved from left to right, peeking if anyone's around.

When he affirmed that the location is clear, he pulled off his mask, sunglasses, and his hoodie. It was the Katsuki Bakugou, your Highschool crush. Ground Zero. His tongue clicked, grasping on your lingerie, "What's with you calling me a damn villain?!" His crimson-red eyes looked intensely at you, "The fuck is your deal?"

"You're gonna buy my goddamn lingerie and you don't know me by voice?!" You rolled your eyes.

His brows furrowed, "What the shit are you talking about?"

You sighed, "And I thought I was oblivious," you bit the inside of your cheek, "Looks like Ground Zero here is in another level of obliviousness," you grabbed your wig and tossed it on the ground, you pulled out your sunglasses and glared sternly at him, "Well?"

Katsuki Bakugou's cheeks flushed red, his pupils dilated at the sight of you, "I— Uhh... (Y/N)... I, Uhh... fuck...I'm......shit....," he glared at the lingerie, "(Y/N)... I can explain...."

A smirk curved into your mouth as you grabbed the lingerie, "My, my, my. You're gonna masturbate with this?" you clicked your tongue in disappointment. You grabbed your phone and snapped a picture of it, sending it to Ashido;— [Y/N] : Ashido, saw it already. Where are u?

You turned your gaze to the Ash-blond, still burning red, "C'mon Katsuki," your fingers made walking figures along his arms, "Don't be embarrassed about it. It's all good," you patted his cheeks. He was so damn hot on Highschool. Now? It's like hell found a rival on the heated temperature.

He scoffed, "Look (Y/N), fuck I'm so sorry," his crimson-red eyes avoided yours, as if he violated your privacy.

You smiled at him, "I mean, how can I stop you? I'm just that hot right?" You jokingly said, to ease the awkward state both of you are in.

The ash-blond nodded, "Damn right you are,"

You tilted your head, "So whose lingerie did you bought other than mine?"

He gazed at you, finally meeting your  eyes, "Just yours,"

You felt the inside of you burned, you blushed, as you tossed back the lingerie at his chest, "There you go boom-boy. See ya around GZ," you jolted back at him, you just finished it just like that. Damn it.

His husky voice thundered, "Oi, I'm free today. Wanna... Uhh...you know, hang?"

Your body tilted and glared back at him, "Actually, I'm with—"

Your phone vibrated as your bestfriend responded to your message, your eyes looked down to your cellular device.

— [Ashyyy]: Where are YOU? I'm with someone rn... you okay there or should I come with you??

You peeked back at the Ash-blond, "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Bakugou scratched the back of his neck, "I don't fucking know...Uhhh maybe just a way of apologizing or shit. You know... because of the fucking underwear and Uhh—"

You rolled your eyes, "I didn't heard you stutter until now. Is it a yes or no?"

He clicked his tongue, "Well damn... Uhhh... actually... Yeah, yes. I'm asking you out,"

— • —

"Why is the goddamn window open, (Y/N)?!" Bakugou growled at you as he drove, your head gazing out the car.

You sighed, "We're freaking heroes. Not celebrities. I'm just monitoring the streets, if ever something's up," your eyes roamed around the dark streets.

Bakugou's heart flustered with your words. You never changed since Highschool. Looking out for people in need always comes first, even if the sexual tension between the two of you were heating up.

"Katsuki, can you stop on somewhere dark. I need to change this silly clothes. It's making me itch," You requested as you eyed your oversized chaotic outfit disguise.

"Yeah, whatever," The car ceased on a empty dark lot, where trees spiralled all over the location.

You grabbed the lingerie, and exited the car, leaving Bakugou in a startled position. The door was about to close, when you looked back at him sternly, "No, peeking,"

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you pulled it up, also with your disgusting pants. You damped the trashy clothes on the ground, as the humidity of air slapped your bare-body.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was getting impatient; he glanced at his side-mirror, revealing your naked self. He blushed, and rapidly gazed down, still stealing glances while you struggled to put on the lingerie.

Slumping back to your seat, the Ash-blond started sweating as the corner of his crimson-red eye glanced at the perfectly fit lingerie. Your breast traced on the thin cloth, your hips carving through the tightness, your tighs...

"Got nothing to wear," You gazed at Bakugou who you caught eyeing you, "Are you gonna drive or what? Road's that way. Not my body," your eyes met his, intensely looking at you, "...Unless, you want to stay and do some—"

His warm lips touched yours, aggressively. You gave it back to him, biting the bottom of his lips, as you felt his mouth curved into a smirk. His lips parted off, tongue asking permission to get in your mouth. For all you know, the both of your tongues were battling as you unbuttoned his polo, feeling his hard frame.

His lustful smirked etched on the Ash-blonde's face, "Here's a deal (Y/N); I'll get rid of my goddamn pants, while you get rid of your goddamn lingerie," his rough hands groped on your hips, "I don't need that shit. Deal?"

You felt the inside of you burn in pleasure, "Deal,"

---

reblog for the release of part 2

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