#cat accessories for small apartments

[krosiefics]

sleep talking • lee minho

MDNI 18+

WC: 795

Synopsis: in the teen vogue interview the members said that minho sleep-talks and soooo well my brain decided to spew this out…

Tags: pure smut, afab!reader, needy!minho, unprotected sex (be safe please), fingering, use of pet names (baby, love, etc), minho had a wet dream while sleep talking, established relationship, parasomnia, sleep talking, grinding, cockwarming(?), lwk dry humping, oneshot

You unlock the door of your apartment quietly, unsure if your boyfriend was asleep or not. You sneakily walked through the kitchen, leaving your bag and accessories on the counter top. A small purr caught your attention, you turn to your right and see Dori rustling around on the cat tower, he cuddles next to Doongie who doesn’t flinch when Soongi’s foot twitches and smacks him in the face.

You smile at your babies before creaking the bedroom door open, peeking inside seeing Minho curled up in the bed, his arms holding onto your pillow. You smile softly at him before slipping into the room, gently closing the door behind. You’re too tired to shower today and decide to just shower in the morning. After you change into your pajamas, you attempt to wiggle the pillow that Minho grasps.

“No, don't go.” Minho mumbled quietly, “I love you.” His grasp on the pillow tightens, pulling it closer, causing you to be pulled on top of him. The moment he felt an extra weight on him, Minho’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as if you were the pillow. “So soft.” He muttered. You smiled at the sleeping boy, Minho tended to sleeptalk, it was endearing hearing him talk out loud while he was dreaming. You plant a small kiss on his forehead. His face scrunched up, groaning as you finally pushed the pillow out from between your bodies.

“Mm…need it.” Minho grunted, you look at him, assuming he meant the pillow, but as you snuggle back into his hold you realize what he meant. Something poked at your front once you settled in. Your eyes shoot open as you feel him start grinding against your body. “Shit.” You sigh under your breath, “Need it.” Minho whimpered as his hands instinctively started roaming your body.

Your mind is filled with the temptation of taking him right now, but Minho being asleep made you rethink your wants. He stirs awake, his hips still rutting against yours. “Love, please.” Your eyes meet his, which have fluttered open slightly. You feel your cheeks warm up as his hands squeeze your ass. “Baby…please.” He pleaded, now fully awake.

“Fuck,” You moan softly as his hand comes around the front and touches your warm cunt. Minho gave you pleading eyes, his clothed cock rubbing against your pelvis. You nod at him giving him the go-ahead, the both of you were too tired to do this right, so he shakily moved your loose pajama shorts to the side as well as your panties. His calloused fingers flicking at your clit before sliding between your slick folds. You squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure as two of his fingers slip inside your leaking hole. Minho’s thumb sloppily rubbing circles on your clit.

After a few minutes of Minho stretching you out, you spread your legs, nudging him with your knee that you are ready. Minho took your hint and shakily took his hard cock out of his sweatpants. He swung your legs over his hip as the two of you laid there. Minho aligned hs cock to your wet cunt and slid the tip in slowly until he bottomed out. You laid there, the feeling of his warmth filling you up sent more arousal down your leg. Every now and then one of you would move or grind your hips into each other.

“Feel so warm.” Minho sighed as he buried his head in your neck, leaving kitten licks on your collarbone. You moaned softly as his teeth grazed over your skin. He suddenly started pumping himself slowly into you. Small whines slipped from your mouth as he sensually moved out of you. Minho’s grunts in your ear were enough to send you over the edge, but you held off. His hand came down to play with your ass once again. “So good.” You whimpered as his other hand played with your clit.

“Love you.” Minho whined against your skin. “Love you too Min.” Your fingers dug into his back

Minho started leaving kisses up your neck until he reached your lips. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, but neither of you cared, both too exhausted. Minho’s pace slightly sped up as he neared his climax, his fingers continuously assaulting your clit. “Min,” You cried quietly as you felt your orgasm hit you. He continued thrusting himself into you, though you whimpered at the overstimulation, “I know love,” He cooed, “almost there.”

A few thrusts later he filled you up. He slipped out of you, reaching over for the tissues that sat on the bedside table. Cleaning himself and your body up slowly as you laid there for him. Within ten minutes the two of you were out. Peacefully snuggled into each other.

[17020]

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'RE A MOTHER.

With no actual babies or children, you still manage to become a mother. The Blue Lock men have given you the gift of motherhood. Fem!Yn, some characters are missing i'm sorry.

A huge, colorful bouquet with tulips, roses, baby's breath, and lilies carefully sat on the coffee table inside your shared home. He was sitting on the couch behind it, a box of chocolates in hand, at his side lays the child you have spent the last few months caring for, wearing a party hat which was now crooked from its movement. Its tail wagged in excitement, and it sprung from its seat as you came near; your boyfriend pulling out a small card from behind the box.

"It's not much" he smiled, handing you the card, "but it's your first, and mine too." The card is beautiful, in the cover being an oddly shaped heart—drawn by him—filled with red glitter which had spread all around the card. Inside was a picture of the two of you, of the day in which you first saw your 'baby'.

It was nostalgic, the passage of time. What had started as a small, timid puppy was now the happiest, most brilliant canine the world had ever seen. The other side contained his handwriting, which spelled out a sentence you were once sure you would never hear at this point in your life. As if he had been reading your mind, he reads it aloud. "Happy Mother's Day, my love." Buckle up! A journey with a four-legged friend is one to cherish forever. With him, you are the proudest dog mom.

YOICHI ISAGI, Meguru Bachira, Rensuke Kunigami, Oliver Aiku, Jingo Raichi, Shido Ryusei (let's be honest, his hard would probably say "Happy day, ma"), Chris Prince.

A nice, candle-lit dinner is what awaits you at home. You stepped inside your apartment, and to your surprise, your lover is sat at your dinner table, arranged with a floral centerpiece, lit votive candles, freshly plated takeout (as he could not cook for the life of him), and a furry feline sitting on his lap. The cat's sparkly red collar had heart-shaped balloons tied to it, the balloon almost completely covering your boyfriend's peaceful expression.

"Happy Mother's Day, babe. (Cat's name) and I figured you'd like a family night to celebrate." He smiled, with you walking towards him and picking up your cat, cradling it in your arms. You placed a quick peck on its forehead, and your boyfriend excitedly pointed towards the seat on his side. On his side? There were three seats now—

"Since this is family night, (Cat's name) will be joining us. The catnip hasn't been served yet, I was waiting for you to come" he explained. You softly placed the feline on it's chair, earning a meow in return. Family dinner had gone by much too quick to your liking, the kitchen walls echoing with laughter as you and your boyfriend spent the rest of the night browsing clothes for your cat, sharing a few pecks now and then, because "moms need to replenish themselves with kisses." Congratulations on motherhood! With him, you will become the best cat mom.

REO MIKAGE, HYOMA CHIGIRI, Tabito Karasu, Jyubei Aryu, Rin Itoshi (though his affection would be much more reserved, we still love cat papa Rin), Eita Otoya.

He waited for you inside of your room, sitting on top of your desk. Beside him is an unfamiliar new decoration, a new accessory to your room. To him, though, it's much more than that. "You're back" he states, "I got you something while on the way home. This old lady was selling plants and I thought I'd get one for us, y'know? For our home."

Our home. It had such a nice ring to it, you thought. Taking a closer look at your desk, you noticed the small, brown pot with green growing out of it. It was a jade plant. You thanked him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into your embrace. Naturally, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"You know what the lady told me?" he questioned, "She said this could be like our child." You could feel warm breath on your skin as he let out a small chuckle, with him pulling away to capture your lips into a sweet, quick kiss. "So, does this means we're parents now?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows in excitement. He nods, "I bought some of your favorite sweets, y'know, to celebrate, I guess." His cheeks, as well as the tips of his ears, were now a familiar shade of pink. "Happy First Mother's Day, angel." As long as you take turns with him to water it, he's more than happy to make you a plant mom.

SHOEI BAROU, Nagi Seishiro (a sibling to Choki? mayhaps), Yo Hiori, Sae Itoshi (HEAR ME OUT.)

[gummilutt]

More immersive pet treats - Giving treats now requires Sims to go out and buy them!

My anniversary celebration gifts so far have given us players a treat, the sims a treat, and as a player that also enjoys having pets, I thought it might be nice to finish off by giving the pets a treat! :) I enjoy making my game more immersive, and giving my Sims reasons to go out and buy things in OFB businesses as well as more chores/responsibilities. Now if your Sims want to reward their adorable furbabies, they best get on down to the pet store and buy some delicious delectable pet goodies!

The original object used was by RetailSims, who kindly agreed to let me use her objects for my pet global mods. I have improved upon the mesh to include cat treats, remapped it a little and made it easier to recolor. I am not that great at photo-editing but thankfully the kind and generous @kashmiresims agreed to create some fresh new recolors for it, providing textures for cat/dog, big dogs, small dogs and cats :)

How the mod works 1. Mod impacts current family only, because maybe your visitors brought treats with them. I do that sometimes :P 2. Only impacts residential and apartment lots, so that if you encounter strays on community lots, or took a pet on vacation, you don't have to worry about it (unless it is an owned vacation home). 3. For active family to feed treats to pets on residential or apartment lots, they must have a treat bucket object present on the lot, with treats left. Every time you feed a pet a treat, the bucket capacity goes down. When it runs out, you have to buy a new one. 4. Default setting on bucket is 20 treats. It is controlled in BCON 1003 on the object, so if you want a different number you can easily change it :) The bucket is quite large, so 20 seems a little ridiculous, but I wanted your Sims to actually need to buy one every so often and 20 seemed a good compromise. A smaller version of the bucket will be coming eventually.

Download on simfileshare

Conflicts: None that I know of. The bucket is a new object, separate from the original so you can have both.

Credits: HChangeri at RetailSims for the original bucket object, @kashmiresims for the lovely new recolors and generally motivating me to get things done! :) @gayars, @morepopcorn, @klaartjesimblr and @crispsandkerosene who kindly helped answer various meshing questions when I got stuck during the making of the new version of the bucket. Gayars who made the very cute heart ballons, that you can get here! DeeDee for the party hat accessory that I made an object and OMSP wrangled into a pet hat :3

This was part 3 of my Anniversary Gifts, find the rest here!

[yikesmary]

Is it alright to request a scenario with Wonu? Like imagine him having a cat before the two of you are together then one day you stayed at his house/apartment then you sit somewhere on the couch or floor making yourself comfortable then you felt a small weight from your side or lower back and saw his cat sitting or sleeping comfortably next to you.

I have a kitten and then he has been acting up like that since he stayed in my room 🥹

CAT DAD — jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: whenever you go to your boyfriend, wonwoo's, house, his cat mimi. and he's totally not jealous because of this.

notes: ahhh i love this request so much!!! i added the last part where wonwoo's jealous because i think it'd be cute for him to be jealous. this was kind of short by my standards, however i hope i did this request justice!

join my taglist!

"I'm starting to think there's another reason you come to my house other than to see me,"

"Don't be silly!" you said, and Wonwoo wished he could believe you if you weren't faced away from him, cooing at his cat, Mimi, while you were holding a cat toy and playing with her.

Somehow, Wonwoo felt like he was the third wheel in his own house. Ever since you had visited his house for the first time, Mimi always seemed to forget his existence. It was cute the first couple of times you visited, but now that you were coming over every other day, it seemed like Mimi couldn't care less about him.

It was to the point where he wondered if he was getting jealous of you or the cat.

"How about we watch a movie?" He suggested, which made your attention to the cat turn to him.

"Sure, what should we watch?" you asked.

You both had ended up deciding on a movie that both of you seemed to have watched a million times, but you always seemed to like it each time.

The both of you settled on the couch, while Mimi walked away into the hallway to do whatever it is a cat such as herself did in order to entertain herself.

As the movie went on, you found yourself resting your head on Wonwoo's shoulder while he wrapped his arm around you. You were about to fall asleep until you felt a weight on your chest. Opening your eyes, you were faced with Mimi, who was looking at you and meowed softly.

"Hello, pretty girl," you cooed, not minding at all at the cat's weight.

From beside you, Wonwoo scoffed and lightly glared at his cat, who he swore was looking smug at the fact that she was interrupting his time with his girlfriend.

"Okay, you can eat my food and steal my spot on the bed, but stealing my girlfriend is where we cross the line," Wonwoo told Mimi, picked her up, and faced her to him so she can know he was being serious.

"Wonu!" you gasped, but you couldn't seem to hide your amusement at your boyfriend's jealousy.

"It's her fault!" Wonwoo sulked.

You giggled at him but then kissed his cheek in order to make him feel better, loving the fact that you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks in both embarrassment and adoration.

"You don't need to be nervous, baby," you reassured him.

"I'm not jealous, she just seems to be forgetting who's her owner," he said, giving the cat a look.

"How about we put Mimi in between us so she has no choice but to interact with the two of us?" You suggested.

Both Wonwoo and Mimi were doing a stare off and secretly, you took a picture of the two of them doing it and sent it to Mingyu, who you had no doubt he was going to laugh at the picture.

Finally, Wonwoo looked away from Mimi's stare and looked at you. "The minute she starts moving towards you more, I get another cat and I'll spoil that cat better," he lightly threatened.

Gasping, you looked betrayed and covered Mimi's ears as if she could hear what he said.

"You wouldn't!"

"I wonder if I can ask Cheol where he got his accessories for Kkuma,"

taglist (if your name is crossed off, it means I couldn't tag you): @belladaises @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @kokorit0 @withloveyjh @mikopikotobiko @lockburn-castle @mrs-kamisato @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @smileyneos @xuenihao @itsrachelsplace @yoonzinoooo @pepperonidk @jw-0717 @swinterr @blobfishbumblebee @againwithwonu @jeonride @violetvoo @maevadobreva

[lets-break-free-from-our-chains]

Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!Reader—General HCs

(A/N): I’m obsessed with the Barbie movie. Margot is so stunning as always and she’s one of my favorite actresses. I absolutely adored Ken in the movie. He’s such an icon! Let me know if you guys want more! Sorry if this isn’t the best. This is my first head cannon and I’m using to writing stories and not this format. So beware with me and enjoy!

Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!Reader

The ultimate Golden Retriever (Sunshine) x Black Cat (Grumpy) trope

Fashion Designer!Barbie!reader is honestly very similar to Cruella de Vil from the 2021 Film—minus being evil part. More so, your creativity and chaos vibes are on the same level as Cruella’s.

Ken thought he was in love with Stereotypical Barbie until he locked eyes on you.

You were absolutely perfect. Your style was one of a kind and the hottest in-style in Barbieland—everyone wanted to commission outfits from you— and you seemed so elegant and confident.

Non Evil!Cruella de Vil vibes 1,000,000,000%

He literally tripped right in front of you in his haste to make it over to you, but he pulled himself up and gave you a killer golden smile.

You wanted to say you weren’t amused in the slightest, but even you couldn’t help but give a slight smirk at his goofball antics.

You’d never given him much thought beyond the facts that he was super loud, always freakishly happy, acted like a shaken up soda bottle you accidentally opened up.

You thought you might be able to scared him away with your sharp wit, sarcastic and mocking smart remarks. You were sure that your over all jaded and blunt personality would do the trick.

NOPE!

He falls even harder for you. Finding your honestly, transparency, and overall confidence to be so endearing but so unbelievably HOT. Not even Stereotypical Barbie could touch your level.

Imagine his surprise when he finds out you and stereotypical Barbie are very close friends who go way back. TOTAL Pikachu face!

He loves watching you work. You’re so in your element and hyper focused on what your doing. He’s left in awe while watching you tear apart and shred different fabrics. It’s total chaos but he’d never question you. He trusts your masterpiece process almost religiously.

He asks you a zillion and one questions about what you’re doing but lowkey you kind of love it. Someone taking a genuine interest in your art? Everyone else is either too afraid of the consequences of interrupting you or is uninterested in gerenal.

This is one of the many small things that soften your resolve towards him. 

He insisted totally begged you to let him help you carry your bolts of fabrics, material for accessories, and supplies as you went from shop to shop. He refused to let you carry anything.

He talks the whole time and doesn’t really think you’re listening, until you ask him a question about whatever it is he’s babbling about at that point in time.

He could feel the tears of joy welling up in his eyes at the notion that you were actually listening. That could only mean one thing—you respected him.

Don’t even get me started on how Ken acts when you ask for his opinion on a decision or if he likes what you’ve made! He LOVES everything you make btw.

This only sets Ken’s love for you in stone.

Totally asks to be your date to the Barbies parties.

If you thought he was nervous asking out Stereotypical Barbie then oh boy! Fingers crossed, eyes squeezed shut, lip biting—the whole nine yards!

High-key wants to cry when you say yes.

Everyone is always so excited to see the new unveiling of your outfits at any and all parties.

Barbies and Kens never really know what to expect but they all know they’ll be guaranteed the best appearance from you.

Ken is totally smug af that he holds your affections and so he completely and unapologetically rubs it in the other Kens’ faces. 

The first time you genuinely smile at him, he really thought he might die! Your smile is so stunning, perfect, opulent, gorgeous, goddess like, and—

He could go on forever. The point is, you smiled at him! HIM. You never smile at anyone! You smirk plenty, but never smile.

Even on the rare occasion that you do, it’s very small—almost none existent.

You always thought he was very funny. He never had to try hard seeing as he was just a naturally silly fella, but the first time you couldn’t hold back and you laughed loudly at something he said, he was in absolute awestruck.

What he said wasn’t even that funny, it was the way he said it.

All the Barbies and Kens ship the two of you. The definition of opposites attract.

Stereotypical Barbie is totally the official president of the OTP ship fan club for you two.

1000% you look at Ken like this 🥺🥹 and you look at everyone else like this 😒🖕 pretty much!

The patience and softness you exercise with Ken makes others feel like they’ve fallen through the looking glass.

You go from being a ferocious she-lion like this to a total mushy docile kitten with him Like this

Seriously, it so easy for you to snap on someone’s case and put them in their places, but with Ken you have a seemingly bottomless pool of patience.

Legit tho. This was you and him at the beginning of your budding relationship in general…you were over it at first. You really weren’t tho

Someone or something please help the person that hurts Ken—accident or not—whether it be emotionally, physically, or mentally. It’s gonna be a dark day in Barbieland.

It warms Ken all over to have a girlfriend who cares about him and his wellbeing so much. He feels so important, loved, and cherished.

And that’s all baby boy really wants!!!

He loves holding hands and linking arms together.

He’d say it’s his favorite but let’s face it, cuddles are his kryptonite.

Your embrace is so warm and soothing, and surprisingly to him, you secretly adore cuddling.

Though you did tell him if he ever told anyone else that tidbit of information you would never cuddle him again! 

Honey…He sticks to those words like the gospel!

He cannot and will not lose cuddling privileges💯

Now listen. If Ken’s going to date you then his outfits got to be on point, and you make sure of it. You know what he loves outfit-wise and set to work for making him a one of a kind wardrobe.

He actually does cry when he sees the final product of all your hard work for him.

You hate seeing him cry in anyway, it hurts you to see him cry, but at least these are tears of happiness.

You suppose you can live with happy tears…

You guys become the IT couple in Barbieland. You’re the highest standard for couple goals.

Speaking of boyfriend/girlfriend goals.

He has so many adorable nicknames for you but he will never grow tired of hearing you call him by the term of endearment you chose for him.

You call him Baby Darling…

He. Is. OBSESSED!!!

He just about melts into a puddle whenever you call him Baby Darling.

He’s never heard any other Barbie call their Ken that and it makes him feel so special.

Who else loves and ships Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!reader?

[doctordeathawaits]

Any tips for transpet? Like feeling as though you're meant to be someone's pet or as though you should be treated as a pet?

TRANS - PET . . .

Depending on your species - having gear can be very euphoric ! Let's use the regular household pets ( cats / dogs ) as an example ! Getting ears or tails can help a lot ! You can find ones on amazon quite easily - or you can also go on Etsy to commission some to be perfect fits for you ! Yet there are cheaper alternatives - DIYing ! We followed this tutorial and got amazing results ! Note ; instead of Worbla , we used chicken wire and carboard for the shape and instead of hair pastel we used our simple makeup pallet - got very nice results ! For tails - we used this tutorial and got amazing results ! You can also make paws by sewing small balls / tuffs for toes on socks ! More gear like collars is also great ! You can get accessories collars from amazon , or simply get one of the bigger collars from pet stores !

Makeup - depending on your species , doing makeup like noses , whiskers , scales , ect., can help ! If you want realistic whiskers for more euphoria - taking plastic craft wire and cutting to desired length , then gluing to your face with eyelash glue can give the more realistic affect of whiskers ! If you feel like spending the money - leather face muzzles are also a great euphoria whammer !

Having Pet beds can help a lot ! Going to pet stores and getting beds made for big dogs can be a great fit for you to be able to sit in comfortably ! If you live in a home where you are unable to do that - getting a beanbag is a great alternative !

Getting yourself treats can be good ! Rewarding yourself for small tasks can also give euphoria ! You can use simple things you just enjoy - or if you want more affirming things , you can use look - alike alternatives to pet treats ! Cereal to kibble , slim jims for dental sticks , ect !

Acting like your species ! Using the example of household pets - doing floor based yoga can count for stretching ! You can also start quadrobics ( sport of walking on all fours ) , there are many tutorials from the therian community that we have tried out - and holy fuck we just learned how to jump over small objects on all fours !

If you have a partner that is apart of your transition - having them train you tricks and then rewarding with treats can be euphoric !

Hope these helped even just a little bit - stay safe and good luck !

[vikuo-kuma]

Stupid In Love 🍯

A/N: PLEASE REQUEST, I’M BEGGING— and no this is not a request by anyone. This is also inspired by a song that hasn’t released yet, I just think that it fits his character.

Warning: angst at the beginning, if you squint hard enough, but it’s just fluff

—

This was the third time, the third time that you were stood up. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, you always look your best, had the proper manners, as well as a kind heart. So what did you do wrong? You had tried reaching out for your boyfriend’s phone number, but it always went to voicemail. Eventually, you gave up. With a grimace expression, you turned around and started to head back to the apartment.

You finally understood that he didn’t want you, that you were just a simple one night stand. You felt… like an idiot.

Cuz I’m so stupid in love.

During your walk back, you bumped into a close colleague, Kaldo Gehenna. “Oh? Y/N, strange to see you out of the workplace. Out on a date, I assume?”, the white haired male stood tall, he seemed to be walking his pet dog, Honey. Your face twisted into an unsure expression. “Kind of… got stood up by my boyfriend, so I broke up with him through text..”, you awkwardly responded to your colleague’s question. It wasn’t something worth smiling about, so Kaldo’s face softened.

Let’s get married in Vegas

Kaldo already knew your boyfriend was a horrible person from the start. He wanted to warn you earlier, however, the white-haired male also knew that it would’ve ruined the close bond between you and him. Kaldo didn’t want that, he didn’t want that to ruin his progress with you.

We don’t need a guest list

“Then why don’t you and I go on the date?”, his suggestion was out of the blue, shocking you with his words. “A date? With you?”, You ask, wanting to make sure that’s what he had asked. It finally hit Kaldo in the face, he had asked you on a date. “Uh, yeah- that’s what I meant, but if you don’t want to it’s fine as well-”, you stopped him from ranting on by holding both of his hands. “Sure, why not?”, with a smile, you looked at him softly. This man was flustered, but he kept his awkward smile, which you found adorable.

I don’t wanna think too much.

You and Kaldo walked down the street, passing many cafes, stores, and reached a dog friendly restaurant. As you two walked into the restaurant, a waiter sat you both down near a window. It had a nice view of the city, people were walking outside, reaching places where they needed to be. You started a small conversation, which led to you finding out that both of you have a lot in common. You both had a sweet tooth, but you giggled at the part where Kaldo told you about how he likes putting honey on everything.

Let’s just say that the conversation started to lift up your mood.

Let’s get matching tattoos

Once you both finished your food, you went to go pay. Leaving a nice tip for the working waiter. Kaldo and you left the restaurant with Honey by your side, you both entered an accessory store. It had many cute key chains, some were matching ones. You haven’t noticed that Kaldo had already paid for something, but you followed him out the store.

I don’t wanna think it through

“What did you buy?”, you asked confusingly. He turned towards you and smiled. “Matching keychains”, the white haired male replied. Handing you a brown bear, that was holding a jar of honey, keychain while he held up a white polar bear keychain. This made you blushed slightly, you never really received anything from your ex before, so it was very much appreciated. Then Kaldo took out something else, it was a cute cat plush that you’ve been looking at when passing one of the stores.

Baby I’m so stupid in love~

“I want to spoil you from now on, would you allow me to?”

—

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Traditionally, I Love You ~ Bakugou Katsuki x Reader ***

Summary: A small, soft and very fluffy story where Katsuki falls in love with a girl from a traditional upbringing who learns about the modern life for the first time when she’s forced to get into U.A. Their relationship develops beautifully, and they take a step further, under the guidance of Katsuki, who shows her that being intimate is for pleasure and connection, not just for heir-making as she was taught.  ( It’s going to be mainly female-pleasure focused, and an extremely soft Katsuki x )

Bakugou always prided himself with being the absolute best at everything, the future #1 Hero, and though he didn’t get in U.A. through recommendation like those privileged extras, he rightfully got the highest score at the entrance exam.  He played it cool all the time, though even he had to admit, his enthusiasm may have gotten the best out of him at times - He wasn’t going to show his happiness though, of course not, he was above fawning over heroes and being in a hero academy - Unlike that dumbass Deku, he was so ridiculous, he couldn’t only laugh in his face. It was humiliating even knowing they were from the same class, let alone that he considered him a ‘friend’. Ha! As if Bakugou would befriend a Quirkless nobody like him.

Still, after a few weeks in U.A., on one morning when Aizawa was supposed to come over for homeroom time and say his good mornings, he brought over a girl around their age. She was dressed in a traditional outfit, and her hair, too, was long, worn and pinned with a pretty flower accessory, and her make up was white, with a little bit of red around her eyes, highlighting an almost cat-like look. She looked like a traditional porcelain doll. Bakugou didn’t even want to look at her - Too soft, he thought. Why was she here anyway? Surely, there was no way she wanted to be a hero, not someone like her.

But Bakugou’s ears perked up, as though he was some kind of animal - She was their new transfer student classmate. This girl who looked like she was being an actor ripped from a movie set in the 16th century sengoku era... She was supposed to be their new student. What a load of bullshit. There was no way she could have a proper Quirk... Unless she had a healing Quirk? Perhaps so - Apart from Recovery Girl, there was no one in U.A., or at least that he knew, who could heal others. Surely, for healers, there must be better schools, aren’t they? So why was she brought here to begin with?

“My name is L/N Y/N. I am going to be your classmate. Please, treat me well.” the girl bowed deeply at them, so soft-spoken that Katsuki couldn’t even hear her. Was she the shy-introvert type, or was this her whole persona, of a pretty, traditional girl? How clichee. Bakugou already hated her, though he couldn’t stand the overly loud and obnoxious kawaii-bullshit girls either; Their forced, high-pitched voices grated his brain to the point of over-bleeding. It didn’t matter though. Bakugou wasn’t in U.A. to get in a relationship. He was there to learn and train to his body’s limits, and far beyond.

Aizawa then informed them that Y/N was from a village with strict, traditional views, and she needed to be integrated in their society, as she doesn’t even know how to use her phone. The school was gracious enough to provide her with a good enough cell-phone, but there was only so far she could go, all by herself.

Of course, all those stupid extras fawned over her like months to the flame, they were talking to her, all at once even, and they all tried to explain to her things, different things, of different topics. Katsuki didn’t want to bother with her, or with all those fuckers, it was far too much of a drag, and he had more important things to be doing; Though, his eyes wondered of their own accord, lingering from the corner at the girl being ganged and chatted up by more than half the class. She looked overwhelmed having so many people around her, but she tried to keep a polite smile on her face. What a weakling. Yes, he could sympathise with being uncomfortable around people like that, but he would retaliate immediately and fuck them up real good, so they’d know never to bother her again like that.

The classroom was so unbelievably loud that Katsuki’s senses found themselves overwhelming - And they weren’t even in his ear! “SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY YOU FUCKING EXTRAS! YOU’RE TOO FUCKING LOUD - TAKE IT THE FUCK OUTSIDE ALREADY!” the boy slammed his fist into his desk so hard that the others thought it was going to break. Though he was glaring at them, the class now deathly silent, he unintentionally spotted a grateful smile, small yet tender, on the girl’s face. It was addressed to him. What, did she think he did it to save her? What an idiot! Stupid, old-school girl! She better not think they’re friends now or something stupid!

Katsuki slumped back down in his chair, and thankfully, as the class was about to begin, Y/N left, as she was to properly start her curriculum at the beginning of the next week.  Of course, the only topic of conversation during the week was the new girl, and how everyone tried to text her, only to get ignored and wonder why. Did those idiots completely forget the new girl was technologically challenged? That she allegedly didn’t even know what a cell-phone was? Maybe that dumbass had no clue how to turn on the damn phone, let alone write and reply to their stupid-ass texts?! What’s so hard to comprehend, for the love of --

Bakugou was so over the whole mess with the new girl, that he hoped she’d never come back to U.A. But no, she did, and now she was wearing their school’s uniform. She had long and slender legs, beautifully sculpted, and the black stockings made them look even prettier, Katsuki noted, and the white shirt with the tie looked good enough on her. Her hair was done just as before, but she wore no makeup anymore, though her nails was rather sharp and painted black, as though she was a cat or some kind of predator animal. Katsuki’s ears widened slightly - Did he really associate ‘pretty’ with this girl? What was wrong with him?  Gah, he had to do an active effort to avoid her now, who knows what other stupid things he’s going to think about without realising.

He spared her a quick glance, watching her take the empty seat two spots to his right - Her gaze was down on the floor, and her cheeks were red as her hands were trying to keep her short skirt down. Was she... Embarrassed with the outfit? Coming from a traditional background and having to wear only dresses that cover you fully, and now, a short skirt and a short sleeved shirt... Yes, that made sense, he realised. How was she supposed to focus on classes if she’s fixated on her insecurities. Even worse, that stupid grape dumbass had to fluster her up even more by flipping her skirt and commenting on her behind. Though she remained silent and got herself seated with no comment, Katsuki noticed small tears forming in her eyes. How annoying - She should have made wine out of Mineta. Why isn’t she defending herself? Why isn’t she beating that fucker up? Was she unable to? Did she really have such a stupidly weak Quirk that she couldn’t even fight that worthless fuckass?

Bakugou, and everyone else; They were all going to be left speechless soon. They were all wrong. They needn’t coddle Y/N, they just needed to help her integrate. She didn’t require pity by all means. She just wanted to be a normal person, around many other normal people. That was made fully understood, or at least, she hoped so, once, out of all the people in 1-A, Y/N chose Bakugou to pair up with for the 1v1 exercise.

“Y/N-chan, you shouldn’t choose Bakugou, he doesn’t hold back!” one of them said. “L/N-chan, don’t fight against Kacchan, he’s very, very strong!” dumbass Deku exclaimed in fear. “Y/N, he’s going to kill you!” another one of those damn extras warned her.

Instead, Y/N, now wearing the U.A. training clothes, the jacket zipped up fully, up to her chin - She walked up to Bakugou and bowed deeply at him. “Will you please be my partner today, Mr. Bakugou Katsuki?” The blond boy couldn’t only look down at her, scarlet eyes wide with confusion - Why the hell was she being so overly polite with him, he wasn’t 40 years old or something, what the fuck? “Yo, extra, stop calling me that. One same is enough, no lame-ass honorifics or something.” he grunted, though everyone seemed surprised that he didn’t yell at her at all. His tone wasn’t even raised, as usual, nor was his voice gruff. It almost felt as though he tried to keep his voice at an acceptable level, as to not overwhelm her senses. Was Bakugou being... Considerate?! “Yeah, sure, we can pair up, whatever. But I’m not about to go easy of you, get it?” “Thank you very much, Mr. Baku... U-Uhm... Katsuki...?” the boy found his cheeks warming up slightly, looking away. She was the first girl who called him by his first name like that, how annoying. Still, it was his fault for being so vague, and he didn’t want to confuse the girl more than all these new things already were - Might as well get used to this and suck it up. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he muttered, shoving his hands deep in his pants pockets and walked away, to the side of the court, where everyone else was standing.

Aizawa had some pairs fight between each other - First, without Quirks, then, with them. Sero with Mina, Kaminari with Kirishima, Jirou with Yaomomo, Tokoyami with Tsuyu, Koda with Sato, Ojiro with Shoji, Iida with Todoroki, Uraraka with Deku, Aoyama with Hagakure; And no suprise, nobody wanted to fight against Mineta, but eventually, one of the winners would have to volunteer to fight him also. What a drag.

Katsuki’s match against Y/N was the last one, but also, the most anticipated... And feared. He unzipped his jacket and threw it on the ground, doing a little warm up. He liked fighting in a tank top only, gave him the mobility he needed. Y/N, also, though she looked incredibly bashful, took off her jacket. “No weapons, Y/N.” she nodded in acknowledgement at the teacher; Katsuki could only look quizzically at her, though he hadn’t the time to question her supposed proficiency in weapons. Perhaps a conversation for later on. “Have a fair fight. No Quirks in the first round. Go.” as with all the other matches, Aizawa spoke the drill, and the two students stepped away from each other.

Bakugou watched as Y/N’s demure visage turned completely blank and cold, and she was staring him dead in the eyes; She hadn’t taken any pose or stance, instead, her hands were held in her pockets, waiting leisurely. He wasn’t going to wait around until Y/N attacked, he hated waiting at all. Despite the gasps from the other idiots, he rushed in a blitz attack, like a bull at the matador, attempting to ram into the small, frail girl that was pathetically standing there - One punch was going to settle it all, no need for an overkill, he thought. The momentum was catching up, and it was time to strike.

But Bakugou found himself flying away, slamming into the ground and rolling pitifully. What happened, he wondered, looking at the girl who was returning back to her laid-back pose. He had to attack again and see what happened - This little idiot was tricky, and he had to learn her patterns. He needed only grab her, and it was over. No matter how tricky she was, her strength was lesser than his - The laws of physics dictated that truth. What he hated though, was that everyone was cheering her name, praising and encouraging her. How annoying.

He lunged at her from behind, only to get surprised once more, as she threw herself to the ground, backwards, and rolled into his feet, making him stumble and fall to the ground with yet another great thud, and watching with blurry eyes as she nonchalantly stepped away.

This time, he actively engaged in a veritable exchange of jabs - She was flawless in dodging each of his fists; And worse, her accuracy as she punched all of his vital points seemed to affect him; Bakugou grunted, his body instinctually stepped away from her. Y/N leapt forwards, kicking his thigh so hard that it made him kneel with a pained growl - She then used his knee as a stepping stool and used her elbows to hit hard on her opponent’s head, followed by a powerful blow to the temple.

Bakugou Katsuki was on the ground.

“YOU GO, Y/N! YOU’RE THE BEST!” Katsuki wanted to shriek with rage at all the praising and the cheers, none of them addressed to him. It was driving him into an unfocused anger, only to hear Y/N’s voice, washing over him like a cool, soothing river. “Please, do stop your unnecessary cheering. I and Katsuki are in a fight, and it is disrespectful and rather unprofessional to meddle with one’s morale. We are doing our best. Please appreciate our efforts and be considerate.” though her voice was soft, her words seemed to have enough of a harsh edge that it made the others stand up. She then stepped in front of him and crouched to the ground, extending her hand for him to take and get up. “Katsuki, let us continue our honorable match, please. I am truly honoured that you are fighting me with all that you have, and I respect you dearly.” Y/N smiled as she felt the boy roughly grab her hand and helped him up. They shared a few brief seconds of eye contact, and she smiled tenderly at him. It almost felt as though they’ve connected, understood each other perhaps. He didn’t know why he hadn’t felt compelled to yell at her, scold her for taking pity on him or making him feel lesser, weaker - Hell, he didn’t even slap away her hand. Why wasn’t he feeling as angry as before? He truly couldn’t understand it, but he found the fog of anger dissipating slowly, and finding his focus again.

Once back in position, Bakugou ran into her close area circle and engaged in another barrage of jabs, lefts and rights, roundhouse kicks and sickles; Still, she somehow managed to predict the moment he tried to charge at her with a more powerful punch - She blocked it with her arm, so well that she only slightly slid backwards. He was able to notice the exact second her face twisted in agony, for just a split second, though she didn’t even whine or cry from the pain - She was silent as a lake.

Katsuki took a step back and got in another stance, making the girl mimic him. Ever since he was in school, he trained himself, following various routines online - Of course he was familiar with fighting styles. He always thought Aiki, the style Y/N seemed to be an expert in, was for weaklings. In a way, he was right. In another way, he was proven wrong, considering how well she was able to counter him thus far.  Still, he knew a little bit of everything; Surely, he could trick her into thinking he knows Karate just as well. His fists were tightly held in a basic karate stance, whilst she had a similar pose, though her hands were open. It was the perfect example of a Karate vs Aiki fight, a battle of Strength vs Softness. He almost thought it ironic, how well it described even them as people.

Neither of them move, analysing each other, every tweak of their body, every breathing, every blink of their eyes; Y/N’s foot was sliding forward, inch by inch, and he mirrored her move. Seeing as he, too, was approaching, the girl lunged at him, and he did the same. In a split second, Y/N redirected his own move against him, making him fly backwards, once again. “To think you would fall so far away... As expected of the strongest student in class 1-A. There is no one else with such incredible physical prowess.” Y/N praised him; If they weren’t fighting, he was going to blush furiously, but he couldn’t afford that during a fight. Later, perhaps, when he could blame it on the work out he was getting with this fight.

Once again, Y/N maintained no stance, and awaited Katsuki to lunge at her - He threw what seemed to be a hundred thousand hits her way, all of them at such speed that the others could barely differentiate them; Y/N didn’t flinch. She knew they were all fakes. Instead, as Katsuki attempted a real kick her way, she grabbed his shin, making him lose balance - He must have been expecting that though, as he twisted and ended on his feet. Such flexibility, fascinating for someone so tall and buff like himself. Praise-worthy, Y/N thought.

But L/N used her own hand to roll at the back of his ankle whilst he tried another kick, only for her to slam the heel of her foot into his chin, making him stumble backwards with a grunt. Everyone seemed to be greatly enjoying the fight, it was fascinating and far better than any of them was able to manage - Though they were still internally cheering for the underdog to win, they had to agree that they both were doing fantastic.

"I’ve analysed all your attacks, dumbass. I know your strategy and all your Aiki moves. You need a strong opponent, so you can counter with a move that equals their power, with yours attached to it. You don’t need to be strong yourself. But what would you do if I were no longer an opponent? I'm not going to attack anymore. Let’s see what you do when your weak-ass fighting style gets obliterated." Y/N held her hands in her pockets, watching as Bakugou kept standing tall. She chuckled, stepping around him. "Well! I suppose there's no need to do anything against an opponent who does nothing!" she grinned leisurely. "As a result, there will be no fight! I have nothing to lose, spending the whole match waiting and doing nothing - But you do! You want to win, don’t you? You know, if there is no victory, there is also no defeat. What an idyllic world we live in!" though she spoke, Bakugou had no other word to usher. He wasn’t going to respond to her provoking, especially as he knew she meant none of it. "... However, I suppose this is still a match, in the end. You're trying to come up with a battle of stubbornness. I guess you can say I'm proud that I could make even you come up with such an impertinent strategy, against some weak, inexperienced opponent such as myself. Truly, I'm flattered! Thank you for taking me seriously, despite my physical weakness." she continued. "Your techniques and mine - I'm far too young to say it doesn't matter whose are superior, or that strength doesn't matter." as soon as she found herself behind her opponent, she sprinted at great speed, hoping to reach his spinal cord;

Before she could incapacitate him, however, Y/N felt a pressure in her stomach, strong enough to send her flying a crazy length, and she stumbled over the sand, rolling pitifully on the ground. No amount of damage that she chipped from the boy felt equal to this single punch that connected. She had gasped like a fish on the land, trying desperately to get air back in her lungs. Her hair tie had broken, and her hair cascaded almost gracefully in elegant waves over her body.  

As soon as he stepped by her side, Y/N instantly shot to her feet, long hair dancing beautifully around her, almost bewitching the boy with her natural beauty; though she leisurely managed to catch his wrist and throw him away, sending him off with a temple punch also, watching him slam his head into the ground. The girl was panting with exhaustion already, many minutes having passed indefinitely. “It takes a lot of energy for you to pull off such stunts, huh? Throwing me like that only makes you lose strength and stamina. I must be weighting twice your own.” Bakugou let out an amused breath, smirking, though he himself was sweating and needing some air. “You are correct. I am really exhausted. I have never fought anyone so equally before, especially without a Quirk. It is most fascinating. I doubt I could kill you.” the tired smile was enough to charm the boy, though he was confused at her later statement - What was it about killing she said? No matter, he frequently threatened to kill his classmates, it didn’t matter.

With both opponents standing, both taking their stances, Y/N slowly, but steadily inched forwards towards her opponent until their toes were touching each other; Bakugou readied his fist to punch Y/N's face - She managed to dodge, and with her cleavage, shoulder and arm, she was able to redirect his blow, making him stumble before he was punched down into the ground once more.

“Are you done playing around? I ain’t feeling shit from your kitten punches.” Bakugou scoffed tauntingly, and with a well-aimed punch, Y/N was sent flying across the court painfully hard, looking like a discarded ragdoll. The boy continued walking towards her, watching as she was stumbling and struggling to get up; She had a pained expression on her face, holding her head - She must be feeling very dizzy. “Lost your balance, huh? I’m ending it now. You fought better than those fucking extras.” he praised, readying another strike to finish the match, only to find himself stumbling forward as Y/N threw herself at his feet to trip him once more - In detriment of her feeling the vertigo twisting even faster. “What did you accomplish with that anyway? Are ya afraid of losing or what?” 

Their classmates were yelling at them to stop fighting - Both of them were covered in scrapes, bruises and blood - But when Aizawa asked if they wanted to declare an end match, they both snapped at them all, a negative answer firmly rasped. Neither was going to take away from the respect they held for each other after such a fight.

Y/N was barely able to turn and flex her arm to receive another one of his powerful punches, though she couldn’t take it anymore. Her body felt broken, and she was barely able to get up and stand properly. She was clutching at her arms and hands, she was hurting dearly; Her eyes were glassy also, no doubt, wet from the pain she was enduring. 

Even in that vertigo state however, she was able to dictate the flow of battle, slapping her palms over the opponent’s, and stumbling about, keeping the boy at bay, unable to move further - If he tried, she’d easily evade his move and counter - She even clinged to his wrist, stomping her foot flushed against his own, pushing onto it and making his trip. With the little energy she had left, she used his knee to grapple him, this time, more accurately, with her leg over the back of his neck - She pulled herself up in one move, grabbing a fistful of his hair and jumping behind him, grabbing him down and slamming him into the ground - The boy yelped from the excruciating scalp pain he was feeling, though his body could barely feel any other pain.

Y/N brought him to the edge of his patience, though he couldn’t deny he had been enjoying this fight dearly, but it had to end soon. Even he was feeling exhausted, his muscles aching for some relief.  She lunged at him and tried to hit him at the same time he tried to deliver another powerful punch, only for her to somehow evade the hit - He needed a few seconds to realise how she was able to seemingly disappear for a single blink of an eye - She was smart and shrewd, she managed to evade his monstrous hit, simply by shifting her joints just a little bit, yet fast enough to create the illusion of not having moved. But the second hit, she was unable to parry or dodge, and she was on the ground - Y/N saw spots in front of her, and her vision had gone to shit. She was clutching at her head, her arms visibly trembling as she tried to get up from the ground, only to repeatedly fail and fall down. It looked far more difficult than any plank exercise, Katsuki thought, but she hadn’t given up. He was almost shocked, seeing the beautiful porcelain doll girl being so resilient and unbending, though he hated being the one to get her in this state, be the one to bring her such suffering.

Wait - Why was he pitying his opponent? She was worthy of fighting him, she was above those extras - He was praising her, not pitying her. He was strong. Stronger than most.

Once she was finally on her feet, hoping her head would stop spinning already, and struggling to keep standing; One of her knees was hurting so bad, Katsuki could see her leg repeatedly giving up; Despite all her agony, she found some place to muster up strength, and as Bakugou lunged at her, she got in a low stance, leaping at him, grabbing his wrists and pulling him forward, aiming for a barrage of hits at his vitals - When he was too busy blocking her hits, she side-stepped and tripped him, making him stumble backwards. 

How much longer was she going to drag this on, when she had already fallen off the shelf and shattered? Had she no regard for her body and health? Hell, he could kill her on the spot, yet she was still fighting.  His face must have looked almost demonic to her - He was going to use all of his strength on this last punch; The only way to win this was to knock her out, he realised, her resolve was far too powerful.

Just as they got in each other’s territory however - He stopped, just before his fist touched her face. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly in shock, as the girl’s body completely gave up, and she fainted in his arms, just as she tried to hit him. She looked so small, so frail, so... Cute? He found himself wiping the dripping blood going down her chin from her busted lip, before picking her up bridal style - His arms were shaking like crazy, though somehow, he still found the strength to carry the flower-like beauty. “Bakugou wins.” Aizawa declared, nodding at the blond to go to the infirmary.

The whole walk to the hospital wing, Katsuki looked down at the peaceful face of the doll-like girl. Who knew she was able to fight so well, resist so long, even faced against someone as strong as him. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what her Quirk was, and he was almost upset he couldn’t fight her properly either. Perhaps another time; Next time they were to go on a 1 on 1, he was going to choose her, the same way she chose him.

“Did I do well, Katsuki?” an almost broken voice, yet surprisingly sweet, called out. “Hella.” his whole body rumbled with a chuckle, earning a lovely smile from the girl. “I am happy.” the boy hummed in agreement; The sentiment was shared.

That evening, when they were done with classes and Y/N was in a good enough shape, Bakugou offered to walk her back home. He wasn’t all that great at socialising, and definitely, neither was Y/N. Though the walk was rather awkward, they still found each other’s company seemingly comforting, and the tender smile she gave him when she said farewell...

Katsuki found his heart beating weirdly fast, and this time, it wasn’t from the cardio workouts he was doing. During their weeks at U.A., Bakugou had the two idiots sitting between himself and Y/N fuck off and change desks, urging the girl to stay next to him, under the pretext that she needed to be showed how to use a phone and what not. Of course, that was just silly, but he had no clue how to get closer to her, without looking pathetic.

It was shocking how with her sweet voice, she was able to sooth his nerves, lessen his rage and frustration, hell, with a simple touch on his arm, she was capable of making him stop yelling at those other extras, especially the dumbass, 1-braincell ‘BakuSquad’ as those idiots liked to call themselves. He hated them so much, it was unreal. He couldn’t understand - Honest to God, he couldn’t - She was just another girl, a classmate, a person just like any other, so why the hell was he always thinking about her? She was his first thought waking up, and his last, falling asleep.

Love, his parents teased him. Love, his friends teased him. Love, his own heart teased him.

Why the hell was everyone making him feel like such a fool, for having feelings for someone? To hell with them all, damn extras. He deserved better than this. Despite all the humiliation he felt whenever someone taunted him with what he felt, despite his mind yelling at him intently to run away and sever any kind of friendship he had with Y/N... He simply couldn’t resist her charm. She was so pretty, blushing as she had to show so much skin in the U.A. uniform, and even her Hero outfit, it resembled that of a priestess, yet instead of hakama, she had a lovely skirt with large splits that allowed for mobility and agility, giving the impression of being covered, yet when she moved, her legs were beautifully on full display. Her blouse also seemed to highlight her most graceful curves, and her sleeves were technically long, and could be used as pockets - Very practical, she loved that feature the most.

The first time Bakugou saw Y/N wearing her Hero outfit was during the USJ incident - She was so beautiful, he was lost for words, but annoyingly enough, so was Mineta, who continued making her uncomfortable - Of course, until he blasted that fucker all the way to the flooded area, hoping he’d drown.

But what was supposed to be a fun activity, playing as heroes, turned to be most worrisome, and Bakugou felt a spike of anxiety being teleported away and forced to wonder where Y/N was, if she was okay, if she could handle the natural tragedy landscape she had to go against, or even the villains. He had to get the hell out of there and search for her, make sure she was alright. Those worries proved ignorant however, as by the time Katsuki was out of the collapsing building, he, Todoroki and Deku were there, watching Y/N unleashing blue flames and... Killing villains with a long spear. She was aiding Aizawa, though not as anyone would expect. Y/N was definitely not the sweet little angel everyone depicted her as. Instead, she looked as though she was wielding the onibi spiritual fire of a fox spirit - And she looked like a malevolent Goddess doing so. She was ruthless, with no mercy. Bakugou felt a shiver down her spine, seeing all that blood - Only villains killed, that’s what they were all told... And seeing the girl he was crush on doing what villains did, it made his mind spin a little.

That worry completely dissipated once a blue haired freak and some huge-ass beast attacked them. His mind was running a thousand times per second, though his body was simply frozen, watching the small flower being crushed with such brutality, that he felt physical ache, as she laid there, in a pool of her own blood, yet still struggling to get up and save frog girl, grape boy and useless Deku from getting decayed by that freak with zombie hands groping him. Perhaps, if it weren’t for All Might coming over and saving everyone, they wouldn’t have made it out alive. It was completely maddening, thinking that, no matter how much they work, they weren’t anywhere close to beating the villains. How incredibly depressing, just like seeing the mummy-like bodies of both Y/N and Aizawa, as they came to school literally the next day, as though nothing had happened. Nothing changed for them - But it did for him. 

How could anyone pretend nothing happened, when they had to be stronger and stronger and even stronger than the strongest, just to get even with those fuckers and ensue the peace of the country. It was pathetic, all of it, and since then, Bakugou began overworking himself to the point of physically collapsing daily.

The occasion to rise up and show how much he improved was given to him when the Sports Festival was announced. He tried to get Y/N not to compete, afraid that her body wouldn’t cope, still damaged - But her dismissive smile managed to convince him without much arguing. He could never say ‘No’ to her, for whatever reason. But he should have. Oh, how he hated himself for being unable to convince her out of it. She pushed herself hard enough with the first task, using the fire boost to get to the finish line, and then, he chose her in his team, to make sure she was fine - They didn’t exactly win, much to his dismay, but they got in the last task of the festival, which was the most important one - The 1v1 fights.

He fought Uraraka and he fought Todoroki, and in the end, he had to fight none other than Y/N, whom he had no idea how was able to get so far. Before the match, he cornered her. “Give up. Your body is failing you.” he trapped her on the wall, but that fox-like smile of hers shattered his resolve. “Don’t worry about me, Katsuki. I want to give you another honorable fight, this time, with out full potential.” he could feel his heart trembling with emotion just by hearing that lovely voice of hers. “What the hell potential, when you can’t even properly stand up straight?!” he protested, only to feel a hand on his face, gently caressing it. “Don’t worry.” that warm smile, and her touch... He couldn’t help but lean into her hand, grunting, his face flushing with love. “I know you will respect me and my strength. Fight me as your equal.” “Don’t go around blaming me if you won’t get up after I defeat you again.” he huffed, pushing her forward toward the fighting court.

Unlike in the match he had with Uraraka, he wasn’t going to be called a villain anymore. Not only Aizawa himself defended him, but even she yelled at the public. She had run on the pitch so shamelessly and started scolding the audience! If Katsuki weren’t so flushed up from the fight, he was going to be from the way his heart was beating at being portrayed as a strong hero. But now, he had to fight for the #1 spot against the girl he was crushing on. It would have been a privilege, were it not for her collapsing body. He hated that he couldn’t properly fight her, and he could see the bitterness she was hiding, hating her own vulnerability. They formed an indestructible bond from that fight - They value fighting, sparring, practicing together, it felt like their hearts connected indefinitely... Alas, there they were, with no choice. Neither of them could disrespect the other and give up, but it was oh so painful, fighting this way.

Still, Y/N fought him with everything she had, no matter how much she was hurting. She fought, and fought, but her mystifying blue flames didn’t even burn the boy - They felt like a warm caress at the sea side; But Bakugou’s explosions were so painful, so destructive, that he blasted the girl into oblivion.

This wasn’t a win. Bakugou didn’t deserve the #1 spot, not in this condition. He didn’t want to see Y/N laying on the grass, motionless.  To hell with the Sports Festival, and to hell with everyone else. He ran to her side, holding her in his arms, brushing away her beautiful locks from her face, and picking her up, for the second time. It seemed to have become a rather amusing pattern for them - Fighting to the point of unconsciousness, and carrying her to the infirmary.  Y/N smiled, nuzzling into his chest so cutely. “You smell like sugary caramel. I love it.” his breath hitched in his throat, unable to respond properly to such a compliment. “Sh-Shut up, stupid.” his face was even redder, and if the girl would see how she was making him feel, no doubt, he’d have said some pointed word to fluster him even more. Though she never said anything hurtful or teasing, she was honest to such a degree that it made him lose his mind with adoration.

The whole year, Bakugou found himself courting the girl - In his own way, of course - Everyone was making fun of him for dating, but he hadn’t the guts to ask her out yet. He got her flowers, and they hung around often; He even cooked for her at some point, and would buy her some pretty accessories - They weren’t expensive by any means, he was just a normal boy with some pocket money - But whenever he’d see a cute hair pin, or a bracelet, he couldn’t resist. Flowers were his favourite accessory on her though. She was very pretty - Pretty beyond imagination - Pretty enough to drive him so crazy that he’s unable to ask her out.

The situation only got worse when they had to move in the dorms, and they were basically together for so long, day and night, they were together. Hell, at some point when watching a movie on the couch, Y/N fell asleep, cuddling into his side, her head lulled on his shoulder, and he was unable to move the whole night. He guided her head to comfortably rest on his thighs and had Kirishima bring over a blanket to make sure she stays warm. He tried staying awake the whole night, playing and caressing her hair - But his sleep schedule didn’t allow him such a luxury, and by the time the clock showed it was 10 PM, he was long asleep also. Of course, the adorable imagery fell prey to their classmates photographing them and using the picture as blackmail material for Bakugou - Y/N seemed completely dismissive, even going as far as to say they look very cute when sleeping - But he couldn’t do it. He just wanted to blast those nasty fuckers to hell and back. 

Katsuki wanted to ask Y/N out, honest to God, he did! He was just so embarrassed out of his wits that, every time he tried, he blurted out something completely random, and gave up. That is, until later in the year when they got attacked by some villains on the street, and Y/N received an almost-fatal wound for shielding him. 

He hated her.

Only Heavens know how much Bakugou hated Y/N.

How DARE she do something like that?! He didn’t ask her to sacrifice herself to him - Can’t she understand what he’s feeling?! If she dies, he’s going to hate himself forever, blame himself for her death - How can he live, knowing that he killed the girl he fell in love with?! It was unfair - SHE was unfair! Stupid! Stupid! INCREDIBLY stupid!

He held her hand the whole day and night as she rested on the infirmary bed, and he shed fat tears, generated from the myriads of overwhelming emotions he was feeling. He was dying inside, and he wanted to rip his hair out; Open his rib cage and tear his heart out; He wanted to screech into the skies blasphemies and other foul words, blaming every living and unliving thing in this world, and any other universe, all for bringing this lovely girl into his life, making him fall in love with her, only to have her taken away from him like that. He couldn’t take all this worry and fear - Not at all.

“Fuck, Y/N - Don’t die... Please, don’t die. I haven’t gotten the chance to make you my girlfriend... To tell you how much I love you... Fuck... Please... Don’t do this to me. I can’t take it - I can’t do it without you.”

For three days, Bakugou was a mess; He couldn’t function properly, he couldn’t think straight. All he wanted was to hold Y/N in his arms and tell her everything that he was unable to before, he had to be strong, mentally, emotionally, physically - She saved him, she was there for him, she always cared and cherished him, helped him with his emotional instability and what not - And what did he do? He wallowed in self-hatred for not being strong enough to defeat Quirkless Deku, and now, to be the hero that Y/N needed. Pathetic, that’s what he was.

“Katsuki? Why are you crying?” Bakugou’s mind went blank, hearing that groggy voice that sounded gorgeous, even in this state. “You are too pretty to cry. Please don’t cry.” Y/N struggled to get in a sitting position, cupping his face and placing a sweet kiss on his forehead. “Your tears are breaking my heart. Please, don’t cry. Not for me.” she tried to comfort him, her thumbs wiping away the tears, only to be startled by his emotional outburst yell. “IF NOT FOR YOU, THAN FOR WHOM?!” he cried out. “I FUCKING LOVE YOU, AND I WAS TOO MUCH OF A FUCKING COWARD TO TELL YOU! YOU ALMOST DIED FOR ME! YOU ALMOST DIED IN MY ARMS! I THOUGHT YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO FUCKING WAKE UP, DAMN IT!” still sitting in the chair besides the bed, his arms wrapped around her waist, crying in her lap; His body was violently shaking with each sob. “SO DON’T TELL ME NOT TO FUCKING CRY! I CAN’T - OKAY, I JUST FUCKING CAN’T! I WAS SUPPOSED TO PROTECT YOU, AND LOOK WHAT HAPPENED! IF I CAN’T EVEN PROTECT THE GIRL I LOVE, WHAT THE FUCK CAN I DO RIGHT?!” he wanted to release all the bottled up feelings he kept hidden, but he was unable to. Y/N rose his face up, and kissed him. Y/N kissed him, right on the lips. Fuck, he must taste like salty tears, how pathetic of him, the boy thought. Still, those deprecating thoughts disappeared, as soon as he saw that beautiful yet tired smile of hers. “I am happy that you reciprocate my feelings, Katsuki.” he thought he was flying on clouds. “You can do anything you set your mind to. You are incredibly intelligent and strong - And I have all confidence that you are going to become the strongest hero out there.” with a tug on his arms, Y/N had the boy lay down with her on the bed, pulling his head to rest on her chest as she snuggled and pampered him as though he was a spoiled kitten. He started tearing up pathetically, holding her tightly, forgetting that her body may still be aching, and he cried into her soft chest, completely unaware of how it might be thought of as intimate. He was simply drowning in an ocean of emotions, and he needed to tire himself up by crying to sleep.

From then on, Y/N would tell him things about her - How she was raised up to be the defender of the village, and kill if someone was threatening them; How she had to act like the perfect princess and smile at everyone, no matter how tiring it was. She admitted to being so happy that someone was treating her like a normal human being, not the new student, or some pretty girl, clueless to the world - And fighting was always a common tongue spoken by the strong.

She didn’t care about becoming a hero, she just wanted to be in control of her overwhelming, untamable Quirk, and be strong enough to protect what she held dear to her heart - And Katsuki was included amongst those few things she cherished above life itself.

He, in turn, would admit to feeling inferior to Deku, especially after All Might visibly favoured him so much, and how he hated himself for not being strong enough yet to do everything that he set himself up to. He had such a borderless vision that he often felt too slow to achieve those things, and it was driving him crazy.

With time though, the two love birds learnt how to not only take care of each other, but of themselves also. They knew each other so well, and they were so close to each other, that it would put everyone else to shame. The BakuSquad would take random pics of them in all the cutest states - Be it that they fell asleep cuddling each other, or they were holding pinkies, that they were kissing each other’s cheeks, or fixing an item of clothing - Sometimes, even with sillier things, like using two straw to drink from the same drink, or sharing a cake together and one of them is feeding the other. Everyone loved this new iteration of Bakugou - Easy to get an outburst out of him, but he wasn’t outright threatening everyone anymore, and he wasn’t blasting them to death as often either! It was an amazing win!

Katsuki and Y/N were U.A.’s IT couple all the way to their third year, and they enjoyed continuing to stay in the dorms all the same, to the point that they wanted to move in together after finishing school - Well, money might be an issue at the beginning, but they both wanted to work hard enough to afford a little piece of heaven for themselves only, and no family to bother them anymore.

Until then, however, enough time was going to pass, and there was much Katsuki still had to teach Y/N, including how to play video games, or properly operate a laptop. He had some help in showing her about modern fashion and many other things on the side. There was something, however, that only Katsuki was allowed to teach her - Not that he was an expert by any means, but he was a boy, and even he had some needs; Having a pretty girl like Y/N by his side only served as fuel for his desires, but never once did he try to do anything with her - With a traditional upbringing like her own, he was well aware of how intimacy would be viewed, and he wanted her to get used to it at her own pace.

Still, one evening, she was idly tidying up some things in his room, and a conversation arose after the movie they were absent-mindedly watching; Or rather, just played in the background; Depicted some rather interesting scenes. “Why would one want to have a child with a man she just met? Surely, she would want to get married first - How unrealistic.” she spoke casually, seemingly amused at the scene. “Nobody wants a child.” the boy scoffed blankly, playing around some phone game. “Then why are they sleeping together?” she spoke as though she was challenging his knowledge. “People don’t get intimate just to have children anymore, Y/N. Hasn’t been that way for a while now.” he muttered, his cheeks flushing at having to say such words out loud; His heart was pounding hard against his chest, and he quickly changed the channel to something unrelated, like the weather. “Really, now? Then why?” she looked at him with such a cute, confused face, that made the boy want to smash his lips onto hers. “... Pleasure.” the boy coughed, trying to hide his burning face with his phone. “Pleasure?” Y/N’s surprise was great. “No, that can’t be right. Grandma said only boys feel good. Girls feel pain.” “What?!” Bakugou’s eyes seemed to be wide like hers, the shock making him jolt up. “No, that’s bullshit, what the fuck.” he almost looked startled. “Really? Are you sure? She seemed certain. The other women from the village said the same thing too.” Katsuki wanted to drag his nails across his face at the complete nonsense he was hearing - Instead, he was standing in front of Y/N, so close to her that he could feel her heartbeat. He wrapped an arm around her torso, her back secure, her head resting against his palm; He leaned in to kiss her - But unlike the cute, innocent kisses from before, he deepened the kiss, to the point of forgetting how to breathe. “What do you feel when I kiss you?” his low, raspy voice spoke into her ear. “I-I...” her breathing felt heavy, just from this. “I feel like I want you to kiss me more.” the boy complied - He kissed her until her mind went numb, his free hand picked her chin, his thumb trailing her bottom lip dearly as he leaned away just enough to tease her, but not far enough that he couldn’t feel her picked up breathing anymore. His rough hand went down, holding her supple throat dearly, and went down to her chest, to her abdomen, and down on her thigh, and up her skirt.  “Tell me what you feel now.” he kissed her again, as his fingers found themselves caressing her clothed womanhood, up and down, again and again, across her slit. He could feel her heart beating so fast, and a small whine escaped her throat as he started circling her clit, each time, applying just a little bit more pressure. He had her propped against the wall, his arm holding her supporting her depleting weight as she was quickly succumbing to the unknown feeling overwhelming her. “What are you feeling?” his lips still brushing against her own, the boy teasingly asked, triumphant at seeing his girlfriend with glazed eyes - Her hands gripped painfully tight on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. “I-I don’t... I don’t know what this is.” her voice sounded to almost morph into a sweet mewl. “I can’t - I can’t name it. I’ve never... Felt like this before.” “Don’t think much. Just say if you want me to continue or not.” unconsciously, she seemed to be pulling him closer to her body. “Yeah... I want you - I want you, ‘Tsuki.” whether or not she knew perfectly well the way she was teasing him with her words, he wasn’t sure, but the effect she had on him was unreal. He kissed her with more fire, drinking in her first climax; Those sounds she let were so cute, he wanted to hear more; He was so greedy for her, for her body, he almost felt ashamed with how much he was in love with her. “Did you like it, Y/N?” the boy asked, his lips trailing down her jaw, and to her neck. Y/N whimpered a positive answer. “Do you want more, my greedy little kitten?” “Tsuki, don’t tease me like that!” she pouted, only to feel that overly adventurous hand pull down her panties, cupping her private part - Gently, he his fingers touched her folds, exploring around her soft, warm skin, and inside her wet cavern - One finger, inside and out, whilst he abused those sweet spots on her neck, earning gasp after gasp, all from how good he was making her feel.

The boy couldn’t grasp his mind around how incredibly how she was, or how wet he made her already - He was ecstatic, so proud of himself, he wanted to see the full extent of her reactions, all the sounds and expressions he could make her have. Another digit added, her spine arched suddenly against his arm. “Ts-Tsuki... If you go on... I can’t stand up...” she breathed out so enticingly that it drove the boy crazy. “You can, just a little more.” the boy had to place his lips over hers to cover a whine of his name as he curled his fingers just right - Her sharp fingernails dug into his flesh, desperately trying to keep herself upright, but he felt like a melted puddle in his arms. She felt flask, her wetness leaking down her thigh shamelessly from all her arousal, and another climax, more intense this time. “That’s my good girl.” he smirked down at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking her juices shamelessly that the girl covered her face and looked away. “D-Don’t do that, it’s lewd!” she exclaimed, only to hear him chuckling and guiding her to lay down on the bed. Making sure the door was properly locked and changing the weather channel to some music, he sat down between her legs, leaning his chin on her knee, and looking down at her with those beautiful crimson eyes of his. “I have many other lewd things I want to do to you.” he admitted, his hand over hers, squeezing it with comfort. “If you want me to, I can show you, there is pleasure in love-making.” in a swift move, Bakugou was positioned on top of her, leaning on his forearms, on either side if her head. He kissed her deeply, his teeth gently grazing her lip, pulling on it playfully. “Do you want me to go on, my love?” In spite of her embarrassment, and how it went against everything she was taught, Y/N nodded her head. “I need you to tell me. Say it. Out loud.” “Don’t tease me like that.” she pouted at him. “I want you to love me, ‘Tsuki.” “I will love you any time you want me to, Y/N.” the vibration of his voice sent shivers down her spine, as the boy dripped down to her torso, his hands roaming up and down her body, taking off her blouse and skirt. She was so beautiful, laying down in all her glory, naked, and blushing so hard.

His finger gripped on the plush of her thighs, pulling them apart just enough to get close to her dripping cunt; He placed kiss after kiss on the inner skin of her leg, and in between, to her overly stimulated bundle of nerves that made her body twitch with each flick of his tongue. Y/N had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle an unconscious whine, the weird feeling of his wet tongue licking all the way up her sleeve, and down to her entrance - It was so weird, but she didn’t hate it - It wasn’t a bad kind of weird, it was rather pleasant. Pleasant enough that she was losing her sense of ration over the way he was making her feel. The way his hands were holding her, how his mouth was kissing and sucking and pulling.

With the way Y/N was unable to properly keep her body under control, Katsuki knew she was close again - She was so precious, and he didn’t want to let go of her the whole night - And every other night also. He wanted to see her, to hear her, to kiss her every day and every night, for the rest of their lives. Suddenly, Katsuki stopped, and he quickly took off the tank top he was wearing, making Y/N whimper softly. Though she wanted to protest, her body feeling about to explode, she placed her hands on his chest, trailing down to his abdomen, before quickly pulling him down on her body, his whole weight unsupported - But she loved the proximity, and how intimate it felt, being so close, kissing him, feeling his body like that. Y/N loved his body, she wanted to see him shirtless like this more often, she wanted to hear him go crazy with pleasure, the very same way he made her feel.

But not now - Katsuki had other plans for the night. “Still want to continue? Are you ready?” the boy asked, sucking on her neck. “I don’t know if I’d be able to stop, once I begin. I’m addicted to you. I’m addicted to everything about you.” he sighed, his chest heaving up and down from excitement. “Yes.” she breathed out. “I want you. I don’t want you to stop.” Y/N spoke again. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.” “Another time, angel.” Katsuki chuckled softly, a hand reaching into the drawer and quickly taking a condom, putting it on. “Tonight, it’s all about you, sweetheart.” 

Once again, he hoisted her up with one arm, the other hand holding her own, fingers intertwined. He felt her squeezing him as he entered his tip inside her womanhood, slowly going in. Though the music was loud, Katsuki kissed Y/N deeply, afraid he sweet mewls might be heard from outside; Fully sheathed, he let out an exhale, trying to keep himself composed, but he was failing miserably. The way she felt around him, how tight she felt, clamping down on him, it was killing him in all the best ways possible.

Again, he went pulled out almost fully, before going back in, long strokes, maddening, so full of passion, full of love, hitting and scraping at her sweet spot - His hand felt as though it was being crushed, and his back might as well be bleeding, or at least held the marks of her nails - He loved it. He loved this feeling, it heated him up, it made him feel nirvana approaching fast.

“I love you.” he mumbled, kissing her again; Her body soon started twitching, stiff; He felt his member being lovingly held captive inside of her as he rode her sweet release, and soon, he found his own. He wanted to stay like that inside of her, to be connected to her. “I love you, ‘Tsuki.” her voice was so delicate, so euphoric, that it made the boy bite his lip and pull away, before he’d be tempted to tire her out even more. He knew, however, that next time, he might be teasing her more - It felt too good, seeing her so glazed with pleasure, pleading for him to continue and be good to her. And it felt even better, having her say she loves him. It was the best feeling in the world.

Katsuki grabbed his tank top back, giving Y/N one of his larger Tshirts to sleep in, and brought over a pack of baby wipes, some water and snacks. He got the volume of the music down, and changed again to some movie, as Y/N cuddled dearly into his side, her head resting on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. It didn’t take long for him to play with her hair, that she fell asleep, that beautiful smile ever painted on her face. “You have no idea how much I love you, Y/N.”

[styrvexxual]

Han Jisung's Guide to The College Experience (CH. 3)

Pt. 3 to my first ever fic :)

minsung-centric ft. side pairings wooo

7.4k Chapter (21.8k total so far)

silly chapter ft. pining & idiots being idiots

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61759963/chapters/159241681

links to ch1/2:

ch1: https://www.tumblr.com/styrvexxual/771354434446000128/han-jisungs-guide-to-the-college-experience-ch?source=share

ch2: https://www.tumblr.com/styrvexxual/771815803308949504/han-jisungs-guide-to-the-college-experience-ch?source=share

Jisung wakes up the next morning. Thank god for that. It would have been hard to explain to his parents that he died from alcohol poisoning because he was too scared to talk to his TA sober. Speaking of Minho, Jisung thinks back to the conversation they shared last night that he has the unfortunate displeasure of remembering.

Truce?

Jisung throws a hand over his face and cringes at the thought of everything he must’ve said to Minho last night. He doesn’t even remember anything past begging Minho to hear him out, and there’s no way it got any better from there.

Keeping the hand over his face, Jisung blindly reaches around his bed for any sign of his phone so he can make sure his friends made it home okay, frowning when it’s nowhere within reach. He realizes it’s now time for the worst part of every college student’s experience with alcohol: having to sit up and face the consequences of his actions.

A quick glance around the room tells him he’s absolutely not in his dorm room, which is only mildly concerning. The room he’s woken up in seems relatively put together and there’s no signs of someone else having slept in the bed, so definitely off to a good start. The blackout curtains serve as to hinder any progress Jisung could have made in identifying the owner of the room, so he decides to start by opening them.

As Jisung tries to rack his brain for any clues as to who could have taken him home last night, he thinks it was Felix, as he remembers the boy telling him he has a single dorm, he approaches the curtains and opens them the slightest bit.

He forgets how light-sensitive hangovers make him, and almost vomits from the sheer force of the headache he gets upon trying to look outside. Jisung thinks he must’ve made a sound, or at least enough noise to warrant a check-in, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom. He musters the strength to turn around and stand up straight enough just as he hears the door click, looking up to lock eyes with —

Minho?

“What the actual fuck?” Jisung asks, a hint of fear in his voice.

“I’ll make you some coffee.” Minho says, eyes strangely kind, “You look like you could use it.”

“Fuck off,” Jisung responds, his jab missing the distinct bite he was used to around the dancer.

Minho leads Jisung through his apartment to the kitchen, a cozy setup highlighted by the occasional tasteful cat-related utensil or accessory. If you had told Jisung a week ago that he’d be in the apartment of his sworn enemy, feeling welcomed by his kitchen decor and weird sense of hospitality, he would’ve laughed in your face. It leads him to think even harder about what he possibly could have said or done last night.

“Jisungie?” a voice rings out, “How do you take your coffee?”

Jisung’s eyes widen as he turns to face Minho, not expecting the nickname, and still not used to the kind voice he’s been using since they woke up.

“Someone doesn’t remember what happened last night,” Minho says with a small laugh, “You asked for this, Jisungie.”

Jisung feels his eyes widen impossibly further at the teasing, and his cheeks begin to burn as he suddenly recalls but a snippet of last night.

“Why don’t you have a cute nickname for me like you do everyone else?” Jisung whines, leaning more of his weight into Minho’s side.

“Are you sure you want that? I mean, until half an hour ago you hated me,” Minho responds, “And stop leaning like that, I can’t carry both of our weight when I’m like this!”

“Never hated you,” Jisung mumbles, hoping Minho conveniently missed it, “But we’re friends now. Shouldn’t you treat me like how you treat all of our friends?”

“Okay, Jisungie.” Minho giggles, clearly still slightly tipsy, “Whatever you say.”

“Oh! I guess I just forgot,” Jisung says, looking away from Minho’s piercing gaze guiltily, “Sugar.”

“What?”

“Sugar.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You asked me how I take my coffee, did you not?”

“Yeah, I did. That’s not an answer.”

“Yes it is, I said sugar. Just put the goddamn sugar in my coffee.”

“Fucking whatever man, it’s too early for this shit. Enjoy your sugar bean water.” Minho says, putting the mug down in front of Jisung’s spot at the dining table.

Jisung winces at the comment, muttering a quick “Sorry,” staring into his coffee until Minho decides to speak again.

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually upset,” Minho says, cringing slightly, “Look, you want to be friends, don’t you? Well you’ve got to get used to me.”

“Oh, sorry. I guess I didn’t really think about that. You know, you didn’t have to agree. I feel kinda bad honestly.”

“Just, stop apologizing for everything,” Minho snaps, startling Jisung, “We get stuck in the infinite loop of apologizing ‘cause we’re dancing around each other. Be yourself, unapologetically, and there won’t be any problems here.”

“Okay,” Jisung whispers.

Both boys look down into their coffee, refusing to continue the conversation out of sheer embarrassment or a will to save the last shreds of their dignity. As Jisung finally moves to say something, anything, to minimize the horrific energy of this morning, the front door opens. Both boys turn and watch as someone, Jisung isn’t quite sure who, walks through the door.

“Where the hell have you been?” he hears Minho pipe up from behind him, not quite upset. However, knowing Minho, Jisung fears for what’s to come if he doesn’t like the answer.

The stranger’s eyes dart between the two of them, a smirk growing on his face, and Jisung swears he must know who this is. “Doing the same thing as you, I suppose.” he says with a shrug.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh! Guess I was wrong, my bad bro,” the stranger responds with a laugh, “Was just with Seungminnie, you know the drill.”

Seungmin? Jisung thinks. The memory of seeing his roommate pressed against the wall of a frat house hits him like a truck, and he finally remembers where he knows the boy from. Given that this is all he knows of the kid, he chooses to hold his tongue for the time being.

“Ugh. If you refrain from reminding me of the absolute betrayal that is my younger brother fucking my childhood friend, that would be great actually.”

“Well actually, I regret to inform you; but it’s like my legal obligation as your brother to be the biggest pain in the ass I could possibly be.”

“I should’ve eaten you in the womb.”

“We aren’t even twins? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“No the fuck I don’t!”

Jisung watches their conversation with rapt attention. Having an older brother himself, he expected all sibling relationships to look somewhat similar, but he would never dream of talking back to his brother in the way he sees right now. Maybe it’s the larger age gap, his own brother off to college by the time he was in middle school, but Jisung almost feels a pang of bitterness at the exchange.

He’s only snapped out of his state of reminiscence when he hears a voice call out, “So who the hell is this then?”

“Behave, Jeongin. This is Jisung.”

“Like Seungmin’s roommate Jisung? Holy shit dude, I was wondering when I’d meet you,” Minho’s brother – Jeongin, as he now knows, extends a hand and waits for Jisung to shake it.

Jisung watches Jeongin’s face light up as he returns the handshake, and responds with, “I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity right now, with how much Seungmin talks about you, I might as well be.”

“Likewise. It’s honestly more impressive we’ve gone this long without meeting.”

Before Jisung gets the chance to respond, Jeongin turns back to Minho, and asks, “Wait, I thought you hated this dude? Seungmin’s always complaining about how you two just couldn’t get along. The fuck is he doing in our apartment?”

“I never said I hated him? I just said he said something snarky and it pissed me off.”

Jisung flinches at the comment, realizing he’s not entirely sure if he ever apologized to Minho about that, at least sober.

“Wow. I guess you guys made up then, right? Doesn’t seem to me like you hate each other,” Jeongin adds, fixing Minho with a pointed look that Jisung could only hope to understand.

“Yeah, all good here,” Jisung responds, hoping the fake smile he gives reaches his eyes.

“See,” Minho says with an eyeroll, “Now leave us alone, and stop scaring our guest!”

Jisung watches as Jeongin rolls his eyes in return and sticks out his tongue, shouting a, “Whatever, bye losers,” and escaping into his room.

With Jeongin gone to relieve the tension, both boys immediately look anywhere other than each other, choosing to focus on the bottoms of their now empty coffee cups. Jisung wishes he knew what to say, and despite what Minho has told him, he still feels like he’s treading on thin ice with the other.

“So now that you don’t hate me,” Jisung starts out of nowhere, observing as Minho’s face contorts into confusion, “You’ll totally help me learn to dance, right?”

Minho pauses for a bit, before responding, “Yeah, whatever. Probably best that I teach you before people start saying I give all my work to Lixie ‘cause I’m lazy.”

“Yippee! So when do we start?”

“Did you just fucking say ‘yippee’? I take back what I’ve said, all of it,” Minho responds, amusement seeping through the discontent nature of the words, “How does next Saturday work for you?”

“Fine. How about Noon? I’d rather not wake up early if I don’t have to.”

“Whatever works for you Jisungie. I’ll probably be in the studio for a while anyways,” Minho says with a smile, front teeth endearingly poking out from his top lip.

“Sounds good! Could I get your number?” Jisung responds, a blush threatening to creep onto his cheeks before backtracking with, “For dance practices of course. Don’t look at me like that!”

“Anything for you Jisungie,” Minho says, smile never faltering, “I’ll text you a reminder the day before with where to meet.”

“I’ll be waiting! I really should get going now though. I fear I might’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“I told you, stop apologizing for yourself. It really wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. Jeongin obviously didn’t even stay over so I just took his room.”

“Okay, well thanks anyway,” Jisung adds, putting his shoes on and moving to grab the handle of the front door.

“Anytime Jisungie,” Minho starts, mouth curling to form a smirk, “Get home safely. Can’t have anything happening to you before Saturday.”

“I’m so going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely.”

------------------------------

“What the fuck was that Jisung?” a voice calls from across the studio.

Two weeks of personal dance training from The Lee Minho is something the average college student would kill for, but Jisung just thinks it’s ruining their barely blossoming friendship. It has been a huge help in class, but he can’t help but feel patronized when it’s just the two of them. “What are you even talking about? I did the same moves you did, right?”

“I mean, on the most basic level, you’re doing the moves. Doesn’t mean your technique is anywhere near correct,” Minho responds, crossing his arms.

“But it’s hard,” Jisung whines, pouting up at Minho from his place on the floor, “Too much to think about.”

“Yeah, well as long as you still have muscles in your feet just like everyone else on the planet, you should be able to point your fucking feet.”

Well not all of us can be geniuses like you Jisung wants to respond. He instead decides on, “I have them! They just don’t move very far.”

“No shit sherlock,” Minho says while crouching to join Jisung on the floor, “Look, just come here. It’ll help, I swear.”

Jisung watches as Minho crawls towards him and settles himself in front of his legs. In any other scenario, Jisung might have found the action attractive, but all he can focus on is how dumb Minho looks crawling in his baggy t-shirt and pants across the studio. How his stupid baggy t-shirt reveals a hint of a defined collarbone that Jisung can’t help but imagine gnawing on like a dog with a bone.

Okay, maybe a little hot, but there’s no shame in thinking that about your conventionally attractive friend(?) crawling toward you and sitting between your legs. It’s completely objective, right?

Minho’s voice snaps Jisung out of his thoughts, asking, “The fuck are you doing? I’ve been waving my hand in front of your face for like thirty seconds now, we don’t have the room all day Jisungie.”

“Sorry, just tired I think. What are you doing?”

“Just put your legs in front of me and give me your feet, trust me.”

“Excuse me?” Jisung exclaims, eyebrows flying up in shock.

“I’m gonna stretch your feet. It’s literally the most normal thing a dancer can do, and way easier if someone else does it for you,” Minho responds, a hint of a blush highlighting his cheeks, “What do you take me for anyways? It’s not like I’m excited to touch your feet you nasty.”

“You sure about that? All you dancers are freaks with how foot obsessed you are.”

“Stop saying that, just give me your feet so we can get this over with."

Jisung watches as Minho takes his right foot into his hands, placing it on the ground and forcing it into a pointed position. Minho then takes the heel of his hand and rubs it across the top of Jisung’s ankle and foot, progressively picking up the pace as the muscles begin to warm up and relax. As he’s doing this, he uses his other hand to slowly push down on Jisung’s foot, the flex of his arms distracting Jisung from the pain. Jisung finds himself so entranced by the motion that he doesn’t even fully comprehend Minho letting go of his foot and reaching toward the other one.

“You good? I’m trying to be gentle ‘cause I know this is probably a lot for you.”

This snaps Jisung’s focus back to Minho’s face, pushing him to respond with, “Yeah. I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t feel a thing.”

“Good. You need to learn how to properly stretch if you ever want to pass this class. I’d rather not be liable for any injuries you acquire this semester.”

“But why would I do that when I have you?” Jisung smiles.

“Because I don’t have time to spend in class helping you stretch. Or worrying if you stretched enough.”

“Aww, you care about me. I knew it!”

“Shut up,” Minho retorts. It seems like this might be his favorite thing to say, Jisung thinks. “I just can’t let you fall behind or get hurt, I’ll never get to TA again. Now get up, we still have things to work on.

“You can say you care about me. I’m an incredibly likeable person.” Jisung says in an attempt to stall. The longer he can provoke Minho, the less he’ll have to dance, or at least he thinks.

Unfortunately for Jisung, Minho doesn’t seem to take the bait, pointing to the side of the room in an attempt to start up their practice once more. He guides Jisung through an increasingly difficult set of across the floor exercises, some of which don’t even look familiar to Jisung.

Or maybe that’s just because the movement looks so different on Minho. The way he seems to listen to the music so wholeheartedly that it seems like his body is the one making it. Or the way he moves with such ease across the floor, not even making a sound when he drops to the floor or jumps at a speed Jisung can’t even comprehend.

It’s a blessing Minho calls it quits after that exercise, probably noting Jisung’s lack of energy and motivation. Cooldown stretches have become Jisung’s new favorite part of his time with Minho. The boy seems to know exactly what stretches he needs, no matter how different their private classes look week-to-week. It’s at this moment that Jisung finally gets it, just how important dance is to Minho and the sheer amount of pride in his work.

Before he can get too emotion or god forbid, feel excessive emotions involving Minho, he decides to provoke the older.

“Did I do good?” Jisung asks, batting his eyelashes at Minho as the other moves to pack up.

“You did better than last week,” Minho responds, seemingly immune to Jisung’s efforts to draw compliments out of the older.

“Yeah, but was it good?”

“For a beginner? Yeah. But that’s as much as you’re getting.”

“I’ll take it!” Jisung smiles, satisfied with the comment, “You want to grab lunch? We’re just gonna see each other at Changbin’s in like two hours. Not like either of us can get anything done in that time.”

“Speak for yourself. I was planning on staying in the studio before driving over, need some time to myself before I’m stuck with you for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. You have fun with that,” Jisung responds, eyes widening in equal parts shock and embarrassment.

“Im just kidding Jisungie. Lunch sounds great,” Minho says, smile lighting up his features. He almost looks approachable now, softer if you will.

“That’s what I thought. Burgers good with you?” Jisung visibly relaxes after Minho’s follow-up. He really needs to remember that they don’t hate each other anymore.

“I think that’s exactly what we deserve after today.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Minho leads Jisung to a diner slightly off campus. He’s never personally attended it, but he recognizes it as a spot famous among the student body for being able to cure the worst of hangovers from the sheer amount of greasy food. Minho turns to Jisung, opening the door and gesturing for him to enter.

The hostess at the front of the restaurant lets them know that they’re free to seat themselves, having come in during a bit of a lull in their typically busy day. They receive menus and waters, and take a few minutes to read the menu before remembering what they came for and prompt ordering their burgers and fries.

“You know,” Minho starts once they get their food, “I never actually hated you. I think I just hated that you hated me. I’m not used to people having trouble getting along with me.”

“Aww, someone not used to getting what they want?” Jisung jokes, hoping he didn’t hit a weak spot with that one, “It’s funny, you know. I don’t think I hated you either. I was just jealous and upset that I wasn’t instantly good at something and someone better than me was in the room. I know this wasn’t the intention, but it felt almost like a taunt.”

“I’m sorry, I really am just there to help. I didn’t even think about that.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to, it’s not your job.”

“Yeah, well it is my job to make sure that everyone is feeling comfortable in the class, and that includes combatting any insecurities that come up. I promise I’ll be easier on you, that couldn’t have felt nice.”

“Hey! Where did I ever say that?” Jisung shouts, blushing when he realizes they’ve drawn the attention of other patrons. He lowers his voice before continuing, “I like that you’re harder on me, it makes me feel like you see me as an equal and not some nuisance.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but you really shouldn’t have said anything. It’s only going to get worse from here,” Minho responds with a smirk.

“Oh god.”

Their waiter comes back to the table, clearing his throat and snapping them out of conversation, before placing the check in between them and telling them to take their time. Minho immediately grabs the check before Jisung can realize what happened, eliciting a pout and some protest from the younger. Minho insists on paying since he’ll be the cause of Jisung’s sore body tomorrow, and Jisung finds himself too focused on trying not to blush at the implications of what he could have been saying to fight him on it.

The pair take their time finishing their meals and preparing to head over to Changbin’s place, wondering what their friends will think of them showing up together. It’s the first time all eight of them will be in the same place at the same time, at least sober, and none of them really know what happened the past few weeks. Jisung’s insecurities take over and he feels the need to voice this thought to Minho.

“It’s not that big of a deal Jisungie. They’ll be their annoying selves whatever we do; it’s like the one constant variable of their companionship,” Minho jokes, obviously trying to cheer Jisung up.

“If you say so,” Jisung responds, “You do know them better than me after all.”

“Exactly! If only you listened to me this easily about literally anything else.”

“Whatever. So how do we get to Changbin’s again from here?”

The pair pull up to Changbin’s apartment around a half an hour later, and Minho complains that it would have been so much faster if he drove them. Changbin himself is the one to answer the door, giving the pair a strange look but not questioning them, which Jisung is eternally grateful for. He lets the pair in, the three of them making their way to the living room where everyone else seems to have already engrossed themselves in conversation, too focused to even notice the pair’s arrival, save for a few greetings and entrances into conversation.

The hangout itself has been relatively easy so far, the couples too absorbed in each other to notice the elephant in the room. With everyone involved in conversation, it’s pretty easy for Jisung to get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he’s reached a safe zone.

“So I take it you guys are friends now? I mean, its a miracle we can get you in the same room without any snide remarks. You guys even showed up together!” Seungmin says out of nowhere, directing his gaze to where Minho and Jisung are sat next to each other on the couch. So much for not drawing attention to that.

“Yeah, he’s kinda got a point. You guys could barely talk to each other when Jisung stayed over a few weeks ago.” Jeongin adds, lifting his head up from Seungmin’s lap to take a peek at the pair.

“I mean, by definition I guess –” Minho starts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jisung says, a strained smile painting his face. “Never seen this guy before in my life.”

“But, we had a bonding moment, I cradled you in my arms!” Minho says with a pout.

“Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen,” Jisung responds, barely able to stifle his giggles.

So what they got drunk together one night and binge watched Voltron, sue them. It’s getting taken off Netflix soon for fucks sake, and peak media such as that deserves to be treated with absolute reverence!

They didn’t get past the first season, but can you really blame them?

Their little inside joke sends them into a fit of laughter, releasing any tension the topic of conversation left them with, while the rest of the group is forced to watch the pair live in their own bubble, something completely unfathomable a mere three weeks ago.

Jisung can feel the stares of his friends burning holes into his back, and he almost feels the need to comment on it so they’ll leave him alone; but he finds that pretending they don’t exist just so he can spend a little longer focusing on Minho is a lot more enjoyable.

“Are we sure ‘friends’ is right? Ever since that night a few weeks ago they’ve been like this,” Changbin teases, “Sometimes they feel even closer than some of the couples here.”

What?

This has also been a bit of a ‘thing’ lately. Something Jisung likes to refer to as ‘The mortifying ordeal of realizing your friend group and your sworn enemies friend group are so similar you guys merge an create one friend group but you and your sworn enemy are the only ones in the group not fucking someone else in the group so everyone wants you to date’.

It’s a little long, but he thinks it’ll catch on one day, especially if Minho ever hears it. As much as they tease Jisung about the older boy, he really is happy they were able to make amends, especially because they share the same friends and it would have been horribly embarrassing to have these group hangouts if they were still fighting.

But right now, seeing all of his friends face him with teasing grins, he almost wishes it was two weeks ago. Jisung sighs internally as he watches his so-called friends turn to face Changbin in silent agreement. Well, all except one.

“You good? I can fight them if you want,” he hears Minho ask, “Trust me, I’d win.”

“It’s fine, I’ll get used to it. No need to ruin your pretty face to defend my honor,” Jisung teases in response, watching as Minho narrows his eyes in lieu of a comeback.

“I’m not joking Jisungie. A lot of these people were my friends before yours, I’ll put them in their place.”

“I’m sure; and don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”

“See!” Hyunjin shouts accusingly, bringing the two out of conversation, “They’re doing it again! It’s like we aren’t even here.”

“Doing what exactly?” Minho snaps, “Stop embarrassing Jisungie, you’re just jealous that he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Don’t start shit Minho,” Jisung laughs, “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

It is, but nobody needs to know that, especially not Minho.

Jisung decides to tune the rest of their bickering out, falling against the couch with a sigh. Their taunts at him and Minho really wouldn’t get to Jisung if he didn’t see just the slightest bit of truth in them. He wasn’t having these thoughts about Minho before their friends planted the seed in his head. Sure, his new friend is objectively incredibly attractive, all perfect angles with the slightest softness to his features to give the illusion that he belongs on this earth instead of up in the stars. That doesn’t mean that Jisung would, or should, ever consider dating him. He hated the guy until a few weeks ago for fucks sake, that’s got to count for something.

Before he fully begins to spiral, he hears Chan say, “Felix and I have a reservation tonight, so we should get going pretty soon.”

“Well I was planning on taking Seungminnie over here out tonight, so I have no objections to this.” Jeongin responds.

“You were?” Seungmin questions, cringing when Jeongin plants an overexaggetated kiss to his cheek.

“Oh well, guess we have to do something now Hyunjin,” Changbin states, letting out a laugh when he sees Hyunjin roll his eyes at the comment, “Can’t let all of them out-couple us when we were the OGs.”

Young love, how sweet, Jisung finds himself thinking. They can all go fuck themselves for thinking he would ever be like that with Minho, or vice versa. And don’t think he’s forgotten about Changbin’s comment! How could he think they act worse than the actual couples when they’re the most disgustingly, tooth-rottingly sweet couples he’s ever had the displeasure of interacting with.

Jisung thinks Minho agrees with him, at least to some degree, as he turns his head to find the other boy already looking at him with a displeased expression on his face. Oh well, at least their status as the only single members of their friend group gives them the distinct privilege of being able to laugh over how disgustingly in love they are.

As all of their friends begin to pile out the door, off to their respective dates, Jisung feels someone grab his wrist. He turns to face Minho, who asks, “You want to do something? I’d feel bad leaving you all alone when even your roommate is off on a date.”

“So is yours,” Jisung retorts, “What would we even do?”

“Does it really matter? I just feel guilty leaving you to your own devices after how sickening that display was earlier.”

“We’ve spent basically the whole day together, aren’t you sick of me by now?”

“That’s pretty rich coming from the person who decided to pretend to not know me just now.”

“You know that was just a joke,” Jisung whines, “I’m serious, don’t feel obligated to keep hanging out with me just ‘cause all our friends left to go suck face and go on cute dates.”

“It’s not an obligation Jisungie,” Minho says, voice stern, “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t. Think a little higher of yourself, for me?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say Minho. Where would we go anyways?” Jisung desperately tries to deflect. The last thing he needs is Minho thinking he’s pathetic or something.

“Crepes?”

“Fast response, sure you didn’t have this planned?” Jisung asks with a smirk.

“Shut up. There’s a place I’ve been wanting to try down the block, and no one wants to go with me ‘cause they’re all too busy having a boyfriend or something,” Minho responds, looking anywhere but Jisung.

“Fine by me. Lead the way, my knight in shining armor.”

“Seriously, has no one ever told you when to shut up?” Minho says, statement completely losing its bite as he grabs Jisung’s wrist once again, this time to lead him to their destination.

The crepe store Minho was talking about isn’t actually that far from campus, and Jisung wonders how he managed to go so long without finding it himself. The storefront itself is decorated minimally, yet tastefully, and Jisung wishes he had half the eye for aesthetics that the owners of the place possess.

They walk into the store, and Jisung notes that the decor is just as beautiful as he would have guessed from the exterior. He isn’t quite sure why he’s so focused on the decor, but anything to keep him from thinking of Minho is beneficial in his brain. The menu on the wall is articulately written, white chalk on a blackboard, calling out to him.

“So what do you think you want?” Minho asks, observing the menu in a similar manner.

“I don’t know. But I do know I’m absolutely not getting the one with raisins in it. Whoever decided that deserves life in prison.”

Minho lets out a short laugh at Jisung’s comment, and he feels a strange sense of pride over his ability to elicit a response like that. “Agreed. You want to just pick two different ones and we’ll split them?”

“Sounds good, but you pick. I’m a horrible decision maker.”

“I can tell. You are the same person who ended up in a dance class by chance.” Minho jokes, laughing once more at Jisung’s pout in response to the comment.

They reach the front of the line, where Minho proceeds to order two different crepes for them, one with chocolate and strawberries, the other with lemon and blueberries. He then insists on paying just like earlier, and Jisung thinks this might be the reason he offered the idea of sharing their order in the first place.

The two receive a number and a pointed look from the cashier as Jisung tries to fight Minho on paying once again, insisting he can pay him back for half of them. The two of them set off to find somewhere to sit, suddenly realizing how crowded the shop is.

The two of them finally find somewhere to sit, and wait for their food in relative silence. However, there’s something that’s been on Jisung’s mind for a while, and he wonders if Minho has ever thought about it to the same extent.

“Why do you think our friends keep pushing for us to get together? Do they take pity on us or something?”

“What, Jisungie? Don’t think I'm boyfriend material?” Minho taunts, a feline smirk growing on his face.

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it, so shut up,” Jisung retorts, suddenly flustered, “I just don’t get what they’re pushing for, given our history and all.”

“We went over this earlier, it’s not like we actually hated each other or anything. I’m sure they just realized that faster than us.”

“I mean, you could be right. That doesn’t change the fact that it looks like they’re just trying to set us up because we’re the only single people in our friend group.”

“I guess,” Minho responds, pausing to take a bite of one of the crepes that Jisung didn’t even realize had arrived during their conversation, “If that’s how you choose to see it, then I won’t stop you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to,” Minho says, clearly trying to end the conversation.

The boys take the lull in conversation to finish their crepes, hoping to get out of the restaurant now packed full of sleep-deprived college students looking for a nighttime snack. They make small talk over the empty plates, asking each other questions Jisungs barely even gets to ask his closest friends. It makes Jisung realize how much he takes the people in his life for granted, and he makes a reminder to catch up with all of his friends individually soon. However, Jisung can’t help but think about what Minho had just said to him. Is he so crazy for thinking his friends are only setting them up out of convenience? It’s a little absurd to assume there’s any world the two of them get together under normal circumstances.

“It’s getting late,” Minho says out of nowhere, looking at the time on his phone, “I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

“Yeah, I have homework that probably should have been done yesterday. I should be getting back soon,” Jisung jokes.

He doesn’t actually have that much homework, or at least any he cares about; but he needs to get away from Minho before he does something drastic.

The boys begin their walk back, with Jisung leading Minho this time. For someone who claimed he’d walk Jisung back, it seems that he’s more content following the former around like a lost puppy until he reaches his dorm. Jisung doesn’t dare comment on this; however, as he fears sending Minho away right now will send him away forever. He wants to stay in this moment for as long as he can, reveling in the way he’s been able to completely change the course of their relationship with a singular drunken conversation.

They reach Jisung’s dorm far faster than the boy would’ve liked. He feels obligated to keep Minho around, to hear his voice one more time before he wakes up from this dream. “We’ve learned a lot about each other today. If you ask me, I think we’ve got this whole friendship thing down perfectly,” Jisung exclaims, turning to face Minho.

“If you say so Jisungie,” Minho responds, “But just remember, you’ve got to reach a few more levels of friendship before you learn anything legitimate, like my tragic backstory.”

“You’re such an idiot. No way I was so scared of you a few weeks ago.”

“Oh? Is little Jisungie scared of his big bad senior?”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

Minho’s face has been getting closer for a while now, Jisung passively recalls. It’s been happening so slowly he didn't even process it until he could feel the other’s soft breaths on his own face, smelling of the fruit from the crepes they shared just now. Jisung freezes, unsure of what to do in this scenario. Surely he’s not doing what Jisung is thinking of?

No way he would ever even try.

Jisung pulls away first before it can go any further, past the point of return if you will, refusing to believe the past minute was anything but a dream. He gives Minho a sheepish smile, hoping the boy is too tired to process the tension growing between them.

“I should probably get going,” he vaguely hears from Minho, a sleepy whisper, “It’s getting late, make sure to sleep well Jisungie.”

Sleep well? After that? Jisung doesn’t think Minho is even aware of what just almost happened, smiling at Jisung without a care in the world before waving at him one last time and turning his back as he walks back to his apartment.

Does he even know he just turned Jisung’s world upside down? Does he think this is funny or something?

Jisung opens his phone the second the door to his apartment shuts, feeling his pulse threaten to jump out of his throat with anxiety.

“Felix?” Jisung asks, “I could really use some help right now.”

----------------------------

Felix is the bestest friend to ever friend, Jisung is absolutely sure of that. The poor boy shooed Chan out of his apartment, ditching his maybe-boyfriend to help Jisung with his boyfriend. Jisung makes a mental note to ask Felix about that when he gets the chance, maybe when he gets so fed up with talking about Minho that he needs to deflect.

Jisung reaches the door of Felix’s dorm room, and doesn’t even have to knock before the door flies open and Felix pulls him inside the dorm. It’s honestly scary how well the boy predicted his arrival, Jisung figures he must have shared his location with him at some point, there’s simply no other explanation.

“Is this an ice cream kind of conversation, or wine?” he hears Felix call out from the tiny kitchenette of the dorm.

“Wine, please. I already had dessert,” Jisung responds. He’ll need the alcohol if he wants any chance at actually being able to talk to Felix about something as trivial as this.

Jisung watches as Felix walks over to the couch, a wine bottle and two regular drinking glasses in hand. He guesses the boy doesn’t get the opportunity to do this that often if the choice of glasses is anything to go by.

“So what’s got you so worked up?” Felix asks as he uncorks the wine and pours two concerningly full glasses.

Jisung snatches the glass from Felix and takes a few large sips before answering, “What do you think it is? It’s always fucking Minho, man. I can’t ever escape this.”

“What did he do this time? I thought you were getting along after the party.”

“It’s not that,” Jisung starts, lowering his voice to a whisper before saying, “I think he tried to kiss me earlier.”

“He did what?” Felix asks, “Tell me everything!”

Jisung does just that. For the next half an hour, he explains to poor Felix in great detail his entire day out with Minho, from the moment he woke up to the moment he made it to the other boy’s doorstep. He especially takes the time to mention their conversation at lunch, with Minho finally admitting he never harbored any true resentment toward him, and their shared moment outside of Jisung’s dorm.

“Why am I not even surprised at this point?”

“What is that supposed to mean? We literally hated each other before this, why would he actively try to kiss me. I’m sure he was just tired.”

“Tired my ass,” Felix retorts, “He just wanted to kiss you, and I can’t even blame him. You have the cutest little pout, anyone would fall for it.”

“Thanks? Anyway, that doesn’t apply to Minho, so it's irrelevant. Do you forget how we started?”

“And do you forget what you just told me? He said it himself, he never really hated you and you never hated him.” Jisung watches as Felix moves from leaning against the back of the couch to placing his wine glass, if you can even call it that, on the end table and leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. Jisung thinks he looks like a therapist, and he doesn’t find himself enjoying it.

“That still doesn’t mean he wanted to kiss me! You’re deluded just like the rest of our friend group. Just because you pity our status as single people doesn’t mean you can push out heads together like barbie dolls until we kiss.”

“Don’t you think you deserve to be happy? I’m not saying that you can’t be happy if you aren’t in a relationship, but why deny yourself of something you know would bring you happiness?”

Jisung decides that Felix is no longer the ‘bestest friend to ever friend’. A real friend of Jisung’s would know that he hates to confront his inner dialogue in that way, to dig up the most vulnerable parts of himself and lay them bare for all to see. Jisung then decides to be a little more lenient, they did meet less than a month ago after all.

“How do you know being with Minho would bring me happiness? I don’t even know how I feel about him, or how he feels about me!” Jisung feels obligated to go on the defensive. He wishes Felix had something stronger than wine at his dorm so he didn’t have to remember this conversation tomorrow.

“Jisung, I’m going to tell you something, and you can’t sit there and deny it. I’m giving you a completely objective point of view, I promise.” Felix begs, clearly exasperated by Jisung’s antics and regretting leaving his boyfriend for this. Shit, Jisung still needs to ask him about that.

“Okay? You better not be lying,” Jisung starts, “I’m not in the mood for more bullshit tonight.”

Felix rolls his eyes before responding, “Look, when we say that you and Minho enter your own world and forget the rest of us, we really mean it. I’ve never seen two people get along the way you do, barring the first week or so obviously. I mean, did you see how he defended you earlier? Adorable.”

“You don’t have to just say shit to make me feel better. That doesn’t mean he wants to date me.”

“But why are you so hung up on that? What about this is me saying stuff to make you feel better? This wouldn’t be me hyping you up if you didn’t want anything to happen.” Felix interjects, still sitting in his weird-ass therapist stance.

There’s a bit of truth to that, and Jisung really doesn’t find himself appreciating that. His pulse is back in his throat, and it feels a lot like that feeling you get right before you throw up. He needs to leave, needs to go back to his apartment and sort his shit out.

Or just wallow in self-pity. Jisung likes that idea better.

“I’m leaving,” he says.

“Fine. But don’t be surprised when I get my ‘I told you so’ moment very soon,” Felix taunts as Jisung starts putting his shoes back on. Why did he even bother taking them off in the first place?

“Whatever. Don’t get wine drunk and vomit everywhere; and use protection with Channie,” Jisung says in substitute of a farewell, already walking out the door.

It’s not until halfway through the walk back to his dorm that Jisung never asked Felix if he was actually dating Chan. Oh well, he sees the other boy on Monday for their one class together, and he’s the one more likely to give a straight answer at this point.

Jisung finally reaches his dorm, and closes the door behind him to realize he’s home alone. If that’s the case, he feels for Minho, who must be stuck with Thing 1 and Thing 2 at his apartment for the foreseeable future. At the thought of Minho, his conversation with Felix comes rushing back in waves, causing Jisung to pale at a certain realization.

He cared so much about whether what Minho felt toward him was anything past completely platonic, appropriate for their timeline friendship. But why would he care so much about what Minho felt if he didn’t feel anything for the other boy?

Fuck.

[oros-ash3s]

Character Intro: Odesa ★﹒₊‧ˎˊ- 〜

・ ・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

Basics

Name: Odesa Alves

Name Meaning: Odesa is of Greek origin, more commonly spelled “Odessa”, and means wrathful. Though, many associate it with the hero Odysseus, giving it the meaning “one who receives pain”.

Age: 18

Date of Birth: February 14th

Gender/Pronouns: Cisgender (She/her)

Sexuality: Pansexual Polyamorous

Ethnicity: Filipina + Portuguese

Rank: A Noroi Hunter of the Seventh Division

Goal: Destroy all Noroi

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Personality

Odesa is a competitive spirit. She’s very ambitious, and has a strong desire to break out of the constraints of the Seventh Sector and reach her full potential as a Noroi hunter, saving people and stopping Noroi from ripping apart any other families. She can be very blunt and brash, and doesn’t usually think before she speaks, causing her to be disliked by most of her peers at the Sector. She struggles with connecting with people, and doesn’t really know what other “girls her age” like. It never feels like it’s the same things that she likes. Her fascination in becoming a Hunter and hatred to Noroi is a little off-putting to others, even at the Sector. She can be extremely stubborn, determined to follow through with whatever goal she’s set her mind to, even if it seems nearly impossible. But despite that, she’s compassionate and caring, and very talkative, always willing to try and make new friends.

Likes: Winning, her boyfriend (Ryuji), her girlfriend (Dior), training, animals, fashion, the outdoors, shopping, new people, praise, her cat

Dislikes: Noroi, the Seventh Sector, having nothing to do, meetings, reading, being stuck at the base, cleaning

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Baby, you’re a vampire / You want blood and I promised / I’m a bad liar, with a saviour complex || Phoebe Bridgers - Saviour Complex

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Appearance

Odesa has long black hair with chunky, hot-pink streaks littering throughout. Her hair is typically pulled up into two messy space buns, with lots of strands escaping loose. She has piercing, frost-blue eyes, that are described to be almost “unnerving” by practically all that meet her, and smooth tan skin with lots of beauty marks across her face. Her hands and arms are littered with small, faded scars from training, but her most noticeable scar is the triangular one that runs right underneath her left eye, almost like a third eye. She has two lip piercings, a labaret on her bottom lip and angel bites on her upper. She has a tall, curvy physique, with defined muscles that evidently shows how much time she spends at training. Her palms and fingertips are very calloused as well, and she can usually be sporting some sort of cut or bruise that she picked up while fighting.

When she isn’t off on missions or at training, Odesa likes to dress up in unconventional, eye-catching outfits. There aren’t many things that interest her out of fighting, but fashion has always been special to her — a way for her to express herself. She loves short skirts, layers, and accessories, anything to really make her stand out in the crowd. Her outfits usually have some sort of star pattern on them, although they tend to be less vibrant and colourful as her hair and makeup is. There’s never a time at the base where Odesa is in anything but an intricately-picked, striking outfit adorned by all types of accessories.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Curse

Classification: Third Eye

Odesa is one of the Koîkhlos, like everyone else at the Seventh Sector. Her curse is a peculiar one, which gives her heightened senses, specifically with her vision. When her curse is activated, she can locate and track any creature she sets her attention on. The source of the curse is in her scar underneath her left eye, and when it’s active, the scar morphs into a literal third eye. With overuse, her body becomes more dosfigured, her skin growing hundreds of eyes. The longer she stays in the state, the harder it is for her to return to her past self.

Odesa uses two hand guns powered by the mystic energy of her curse to aid her in battle. She’s the best shot out of the entire Seventh Sector, and an extremely skilled sniper, making her good for all kinds of missions.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Background

Odesa was born to Miguel Alves and Mayumi Santos, a couple that took up residence in a homey little shack on the outskirts of a small town. Mayumi’s pregnancy brought much excitement to the young couple; they couldn’t wait to start their own family together, it was their dream. Especially Mayumi. But with this excitement came many different complications the couple just wasn’t prepared for. In the end, Mayumi didn’t make it through childbirth, leaving Miguel alone with his newborn daughter and empty house.

Odesa’s primitive years were spent under the care of her grandmother. She was the only tie she had to her late mother, who was nothing more than a photograph, an empty gap in Odesa’s life that she couldn’t seem to fill. Her father, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with her. Reeling with grief from the death of his wife, he grew resentful of his daughter. The man who was once smart, caring, and gentle had turned into a shell of his former self; Miguel was angry and reserved, spending his days out who knows where — running from his misery, most of the townsfolk used to say. The times he was home he was violent, filled with rage that his only connection to the woman he had loved so much, was the very thing that had killed her.

Odesa spent the first few years of her life impossibly alone. With a hateful, absentee father and deceased mother, she didn’t have much to call “family”. But she had her grandmother, and that was enough. Her grandmother was the only person who had ever believed in her, who taught her things, who truly cared for her.

When Odesa was eight, a Noroi broke into her house. She couldn’t even properly register what was happening, before she was being shoved into a cupboard, watching as her grandmother - her only friend in the entire world - was massacred in front of her very own eyes. She screamed, terrified, and for a second, the Noroi turned to her. It was a gruesome creature, the most horrific thing she had ever laid her eyes upon. Monstrous. And it turned to her, picking her up with long, wicked-sharp claws, lifting her up by her head. She was frozen in fear, the smell of death burning her nostrils, staring into the creature’s hollow, empty face.

Yet, death never came.

As the Noroi dug its claw into her cheek, slowly beginning to rake its finger up towards her eye, the feeling of pain was reduced to a… strange burning sensation. The blood dripping down her cheek boiled against the Noroi’s skin, and in a long, agonizing screech, it let go of her. Odesa tumbled to the ground, the burning, withering remnants of the Noroi’s hand falling with a thump beside her.

By the time she looked up, the Noroi was gone.

Hours passed on the cold floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, when suddenly the loud, echoing footsteps cut through the deafening silence. Odesa was found, trembling and alone, by her father, returning from one of his disappearances. At the sight, he went ballistic. He screamed, yelled, and threw things. You’re a curse. He spit. A demon. Odesa was forced out of the only home she had ever known, and out onto the streets.

There was no rescue. Instead, Odesa was forced to survive in the harsh, dark streets on the outskirts of town, surrounded by dangerous people that provided no warmth or kindness. But still, she couldn’t escape her past. Soon enough, rumours began to be spread about a three-eyed demon child running through the streets, and it wasn’t long before she found herself in the clutches of paranoid townsfolk that had heard enough of the folktales about Noroi, worried what would be left of their town if they allowed one to run rampant. They set up a stake in the centre of the town, determined to sacrifice her and free their town from the looming darkness and disease, when a Noroi Hunter interrupted, saving her from the mob of terrified townsfolk and taking her to the Seventh Sector, where she then took up residence in.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Fun Facts

✫ She was rescued by a teenaged Noroi hunter named Dasha, who was like an older sister of sorts, for a few short weeks. She quickly passed after the two arrived at the Seventh Sector, due to a Noroi attack.

✫ She has a white ragdoll cat that she lovingly named “Pickaxe”. She was gifted her when she was around 14, and since then Pickaxe has become her very best friend and closest companion at the base, always following her around wherever she goes.

✫ She’s best friends with Ryuji and Dior, who seem to be one of the only people that she easily gets along with. They’ve been friends for pretty much forever and are practically inseparable.

✫ Aster is like a mentor figure to her. They’re as close as family, and he always makes sure to pick her up her favourite sweets whenever he returns to the Seventh Sector for missions.

✫ She listens to loud hyperpop music while she gets ready for missions, saying that it really “sets the mood”.

✫ She has a massive collection of different flavoured lip gloss. It’s probably her favourite thing ever.

✫ She’s a big hugger. A lot of the time when she’s excited, she’ll just throw her arms around whoever she’s with and give a them one of her bear hugs (it’s usually Ryuji or Dior, who are 9/10 times not pleased about this fact).

✫ She’s a shopaholic. She loves going off on different shopping trips, but her favourites are when Aster, Ryuji or Dior come along with her. Shopping alone is quite boring to her.

@seastarblue

[axilog14]

A not-so-small update: because I have no self-control, I got carried away with my latest blind box BJD haul again. (my doll army is ever growing, and soon I will overtake the world)

First, I made another attempt at the Puppet Kingdom blinds. I was hoping to get one of the boys, but instead I wound up with Star Wolf and a double of Cat. Whoops. (Next time I should just get the boy dolls pre-opened.)

Next, I've been wanting to get Bonnie the Journey of the Streets for ages. I now own at least four skateboarder dolls, haha. I did have to give the black clothes a makeshift vinegar bath to minimize future staining.

Another series I've been wanting to get was Teennar Campus Idol, since I wanted more mix-and-match street fashion. A keen eye would notice they reuse a lot of pieces from the Student's Club series, which I personally don't mind. I love all the cute details like the leg warmers and metal charms.

Due to all the tiny accessories, the outfits were even fiddlier to put on than usual. Old School Chacha had a headband that kept falling off (strangely the head magnets here were weaker than usual) and a mystery pleather bracelet that came apart. It's kinda funny that even the official Kikagoods unboxing video gave up putting it on.

Lastly we have Nagi Cub Study Tour, which has mechanical joints rather than strung ones. I pretty much fell in love with Pink Cat at first sight and just had to get her, though all the printed-on detail on her outfit was a bit underwhelming. Like Campus Idol, this series also had a nonzero quantity of tiny leather belts.

On an unrelated note, blind box collecting in general has given me a greater appreciation for those little character collectible cards. It's maddening that companies never stick to a standard card size, but they're still fun to flick though. Maybe I should consider getting an album for them or something.

[issacballsac]

Joint Livelihood

Fem Reader

No lie it’s a MIRACLE you pulled this mf

He’s stated to have one girlfriend before but that’s the extent of his love life

He wouldn’t actively be searching for a partner so you’d have to be sort of ‘friends’

I say ‘friends’ bc let’s be real he has none💀

It takes a while—A LONG TIME—for the relationship to progress past the talking phase but TRUST it’ll be worth it

Chances are pretty high that you’ll move in together early on

So your lives are pretty interwoven

Iori is a minimalist at heart and has close to nothing in his apartment if you exclude his clothes and accessories

So you’re free to design however you see fit

I can imagine him leaving a window open for the cats he feeds to come in and out of the apartment

The place is never truly quiet as he frequently practices and plays little segments of songs on his guitar(bass)

If you also play an instrument it’ll be a common occurrence to play together

Despite his MANY MANY threats on Kyo’s life he’s actually not a very volatile person

He’ll go anywhere with you if you ask he’ll just look hella annoyed but he’s rlly not

Remembers EVERYTHING.

Naturally very petty

But! This can be a good thing

Like if you mention small things in passing of how you like certain things or dislike something he’ll take note of it

Has never forgotten your birthday and will never forget it

He’d be surprised if you celebrated his birthday though

As much as we know he doesn’t interact much with his family(dead/alive)

So he usually spends his birthdays alone but not anymore!

He can sew because I said so.

Very clean and orderly

Off topic but he gives DEATH stares to people who litter

Reuse reduce recycle🤝

You guys go out to eat most of the time unless you can cook

He can make certain things but bros not cooking unless he ABSOLUTELY has to

No lie out of everyone of the KOF roster he’s up there in top 5 at least maybe even 3

Used to have nightmares with Orochi but it’s not as dire anymore

He’ll tell you about them if you pester him enough

Sleeps like a dead person 🧍‍♂️

Arms stiff to the side and head facing upwards

Over time will gravitate towards hugging you in his sleep

Forgot who requested this

[nian-7]

Hi! I love your fics so much, they're so cute! 🥹💕 If it's okay, could I request White Day with Kanata and Nayuta? Would love to see how they would prepare the event for the reader! Thank you! 🩵💜

hi, sil!! and thank you! i'm glad you enjoy them!! please enjoy!

Kanata & Nayuta Yatonokami x gn!reader

✧white day!

✧fluff, mentioned lingerie in kanata's (HE DOESNT BUY IT.), also kanata's is way longer (276 - nayuta & 645 - kanata)

Kanata was stumped. Sitting in the old apartment and wondering what he should get you for White Day. That was what he was supposed to do right? Since you had gifted him some handmade chocolates. Even though they weren't pretty they still tasted good.

He couldn't ask Nayuta either. He'd have no clue either. Was he supposed to get you some accessory? Well, he didn't have enough money for something that was worthy of being worn by you. He could steal some money- No... you wouldn't like it if he did that just to get you something.

A heavy sigh left him as he picked up his phone and looked up 'what to get your lover for white day'. Could you blame him though? He's never had anyone else he cherished other than Nayuta!

Most of the expensive options were.. definitely out of the question. Lingerie? Yeah.. no. Necklaces, bracelets, rings? Ehh.. that's even more expensive. A trip?? Even more out of the question.

But sweets? He.. he could do that. Hesitantly, he clicked on a small bakery's website that was just outside the slums.

" Hmmm? Whatcha doin', Kanata? " Seemingly out of nowhere, you appeared behind him. When the hell did you get there?! You had a curious look on your face as you tried to crane your neck to see what he had been intently looking at on his phone.

His face turned a shade of pink as he whipped his head around to look at you. " ...Nothing, " He quickly turned off his phone as you tried to take a peek at it again. " Why didn't you text me that you were coming over? I would have got something to eat if you did. " He got up from his spot on the floor where he had been hunched over his phone.

" Well- I thought I'd just surprise you, that's all! " You smiled, following him over to the door that you had just come in through. He rolled his eyes a little, masking the embarrassment of you catching him looking for a White Day gift for you. He bent down to slip on as shoes as you watched him hold his phone in one hand. Before you could ask him anything, he responded.

" C'mon. We're gonna go somewhere. " He had said this before almost immediately looking back down at his phone again. Kanata couldn't really decide what you'd like most out of all the sweets so might as well let you pick right? At least the bakery wasn't expensive like some...

" ...Kanata, why are you so focused on your phone? C'mon, look at the stray cats or at the sky! " You linked your arm around his, gesturing to the family of stray cats you both had walked past. " Or anything! Just put your phone down for a bit! " He turned off his phone and looked over at the kittens meowing for their mother before looking at you.

" I was looking at my phone for directions, dumbass. "

" Oh. " Your boyfriend always somehow managed to make you feel stupid without even trying. At least that answered one of your questions...

As you approached a brighter area, which you assumed wasn't a part of the slums, Kanata grabbed your hand and turned suddenly, leaving you to wonder just where he was taking you.

" Here. " He stopped in front of the bakery that resembled the one on the website he had been looking at. " You can pick whatever you want. For.. White Day? " It sounded more like a question as he hesitantly looked over at you, as if unsure if it really was White Day. Maybe even if this was what he was supposed to do. When your face lit up though, all those worries washed away as you dragged him into the bakery, excited words falling from your mouth as you pointed out all the sweets they had.

" Hmmmm... " Nayuta's brow was furrowed as he stared at the home screen of his phone. You were leaning on his shoulder, now looking at his phone as well. He had been staring at it for nearly five minutes now...

" What're you thinking about, Nayuta? " You hummed, your hand wrapping around his arm as you hugged yourself closer to him while you laid against his shoulder.

" Just trying to think of something to get you for White Day. " He bluntly told you. He didn't need to hide it, right? Everyone knew about Valentines and you were his lover so.. you knew he was going to get you something for White Day! " So what do you want me to get you? "

You got up from resting your head on his shoulder and looked at him, confused. " You goof, you're supposed to pick something out yourself not ask me! " You laughed at his confused face. It was the first time he'd done something like this so you couldn't blame him.

" Oh.. hmmm... " Back to thinking he went. Was he supposed to get you chocolates as well? That was what you got him for Valentines Day but was that appropriate for White Day? Maybe he should get you a different sweet instead. " How about cookies? " He looked over at you as if making sure that's what you wanted.

You sighed and let out a quiet laugh. " How about we make some together for White Day? " He thought for a moment before nodding in agreement.

" But you're gonna keep all the cookies. Cause they're supposed to be your gifts. "

" Fine, fine.. I know you're gonna eat at least a few though! "

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[inkandtension]

Éclipse des Arts

Broke Dad Of Three! Minho x Magician! Reader

Part 1

Minho’s small apartment was as quiet as ever, save for the soft meows of his three cats. Dori, Sooni, and Doongie circled his legs, each nudging for attention. Minho sighed, sinking into his worn-out couch as he stared at the ceiling, mentally counting the few coins he had left.

“Look, Changbin, I’m serious. I need a job, man. Something—anything,” Minho said, running a hand through his messy hair.

Next to him, Changbin sat, lazily scrolling through his phone. “Bro, I’m telling you, you could just, like, relax for once. We could find some girls, you know?”

Minho shot him a look. “I’m not really into the whole ‘find random girls’ thing. Besides, that’s not my priority right now. I’ve got bills to pay, mouths to feed.” He gestured to the cats.

Changbin rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you turn into a poet. Fresh air might get your mind off things.”

Reluctantly, Minho agreed, grabbing his jacket as they headed out. The streets were bustling with people moving in every direction. Minho barely listened to Changbin’s half-hearted jokes as they walked. His mind was still heavy with thoughts of how to make ends meet.

“Fish, and some rice....” he was muttering to himself.

Next to him, his friend Changbin snickered, completely distracted, scrolling through pictures on his phone. “Hold on, man, look at this girl. You’re telling me this isn’t the kind of distraction you need? Bro, this one’s unreal.”

Minho rolled his eyes, not even bothering to glance at the picture Changbin shoved in his face. “I’m not looking for that kind of distraction.”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you into stuff like this? Everyone else is.”

Minho sighed. “Because that’s not the only way someone can be pretty.”

Changbin blinked, momentarily thrown off by the response. “Oh Then what’s your definition of pretty?”

Minho scanned the street half-heartedly, not intending to give a serious answer. His gaze swept over the crowded sidewalk—until it landed on her. There she stood, just across the road, dressed in a sleek black pantsuit with a crisp white shirt underneath, her tie hanging loosely but perfectly styled. Her hair was free, falling naturally around her shoulders with no accessory in sight, just simple and striking. She didn’t need anything else. She just was.

Minho pointed her out, his voice quieter now. “Like that. Pretty like her.”

Changbin followed his gaze and let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s a different vibe, but I see it. Classy. Damn. Who is she? Some kind of business exec?"

“She looks kinda familiar…”

Minho’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, a sense of deja vu washing over him like a wave. The woman—it was her. His childhood friend, Y/N. The same girl who he used to like. He remembered the way she’d look at him with those sparkling eyes, as if sharing a secret only the two of them understood. He was sure she liked him back, and there was a comfort in their bond. But then she had vanished one day without a word, leaving a gaping hole in his life that he never quite understood.

As memories surged through him like a film reel, he recalled afternoons spent together, filled with dreams and innocent promises. They had shared so many moments that now felt like fragments of a different life, one that seemed almost too good to be true, now that he's broke. The sting of her absence had settled deep in his heart, a persistent ache he’d learned to live with. But seeing her now, standing there like a mirage in the bustling square, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Without thinking, Minho exclaimed, propelled by an urge he couldn’t quite explain. “It’s her.”

Changbin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression shifting from casual curiosity to focused intrigue. “Her who?”

“That girl, man! The one I used to like when we were young. Y/N,” Minho said, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with an urgency that made him feel both vulnerable and alive. He glanced back at her, his heart racing. Was this really happening? Before Changbin could react or even grasp the significance of the moment, Minho was already heading toward her, his legs moving with an almost frantic determination.

They navigated through the bustling square, weaving between crowds of people, each step amplifying the drumbeat of Minho’s heart. His mind raced with questions. What was he going to say? Where had she been all these years? A whirlwind of emotions churned inside him—excitement, anxiety, and a hint of regret. The familiar contours of her face were like a puzzle piece that had finally clicked into place after years of searching.

Finally, he caught up to her, his breath hitching in his throat. He stopped short, staring at the back of her head, hesitating for just a moment. Memories flooded his mind, it was now or never. Summoning every ounce of courage, he called out, “Y/N?”

She turned slowly, her eyes scanning him like she didn’t know who he was. For a second, there was a flicker of recognition in her gaze, but then it vanished just as quickly.

“Do I know you?” she asked, her voice calm, as if she’d never seen him before.

Minho’s heart sank.

“It’s me... Minho. We used to go to school together.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her expression softening but still distant. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”

Behind him, Changbin awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Wow, that’s cold,” he muttered under his breath.

Minho frowned. “We used to hang out all the time. We did silly magic tricks together, we were so close, practically inseparable.”

Minho felt a pit of disappointment form in his stomach. He opened his mouth to try again, to make her remember, but something in her eyes flickered. For the briefest moment, there was a recognition, a glint of something familiar. She hesitated, her lips twitching as though she was holding back something.

“I’m sorry,” she said, though something about the way she said it felt off.

Minho’s brow furrowed, his voice softer. “You really don’t remember?”

There was another pause before Y/N sighed, a small, almost imperceptible shift in her demeanor, she put her hands in her pockets. “Okay… I remember.”

Minho blinked. “Why did you—”

She cut him off with a soft shake of her head. “I didn’t think you’d care anymore. People grow up, and I’m not the same person I was.”

“I still care,” Minho said firmly, though his voice was filled with confusion. “What happened to you? You just disappeared.”

Changbin cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to ease the tension.

She looked away for a moment, her lips pressed together as if she was weighing something in her mind.

Minho blinked, realizing she wasn’t going to open up. She was guarded, holding back, and it stung more than he expected. Still, he tried again. “How are you? What have you been up to?”

She gave him a short, almost dismissive glance. “I’m fine,” she replied curtly, her body language screaming that she didn’t want to talk. “And you?”

There was no real interest in her voice, but she asked, more out of politeness than curiosity. Minho could feel the wall between them, yet he decided to answer truthfully, hoping to break through.

“Honestly? I’m not doing great,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’m still doing gymnastics, but… I’m struggling. Money’s tight. I’ve got three cats, and I can barely afford to feed them. I can’t even afford my rent next month. It’s been hard, you know?”

Y/N’s face remained unreadable as she listened. She didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any sympathy or comfort. Instead, she stood there, watching him with a distant gaze that made him feel small. For a moment, he regretted even saying anything.

Then, without a word, she reached into the pocket inside her jacket and pulled out a sleek black card. She handed it to him, her hand lingering for just a second too long, as if she wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do. It was small and sophisticated, with a matte finish that felt smooth against his fingers. The edges were silver, reflecting the fading light of the evening. The front of the card bore the name Éclipse des Arts in elegant, flowing script, with the letters shimmering slightly as if they held a secret of their own.

Below the name, in smaller print, were the words: A World of Talent and Wonder. The card's background was a deep, midnight blue, giving it an air of mystery that matched the name.

Minho looked at the card, confused. “What is this?”

“It’s a company.” Y/N explained quietly, her voice softening.

The back of the card detailed the various talents they sought: Magicians, Gymnasts, Ballerinos, Ballerinas and more. An address and phone number were written in the same elegant script at the bottom, along with a tagline: Join us in creating extraordinary experiences.

Minho studied her, feeling the hesitation in her words. “Performers? Like gymnasts and magicians?”

She nodded, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “Yes. They hire all kinds of people. You should look into it.”

Minho frowned, still processing. “I’ll think about it.”

Y/N gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod in return.

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Minho standing there with Changbin at his side.

Changbin let out a low whistle, breaking the silence. “That was… something.”

Minho pulled out the card again, his fingers tracing the elegant lettering. “Yeah,” he muttered, more to himself. “Something.”

“Who would’ve thought that the girl who disappeared long ago from your life would come back and when you meet her, she just give what you need?”

[beauclary]

general information.

full name beau ryan clary

nicknames thirty-four ( the number on his jersey ) mostly just his last name

age 28

date of birth july 14th, 1996

place of birth brantley, alabama

zodiac cancer sun pisces moon taurus rising

gender cis male

nationality american

religion raised baptist / currently uncertain

orientation homosexual

physical attributes.

face claim paul mescal

voice claim paul mescal but if he was from alabama no i don't have an example

height 5'11

weight 184 lbs

build athletic / muscular

exercise habits intense daily workout regimen

allergies mold / strawberries

hair color brown

hairstyle somewhat overgrown and shaggy

eye color grey - blue

glasses/contacts no

dominant hand right

tattoos inspiration / detailed post to come

scars several small scars on arms and legs

piercings left earlobe double pierced with two small silver hoops

outfit/clothing style 1 2 3 4 + ny jets branded athletic wear

jewelry/accessories watch / simple silver band on right hand / thin silver chain

background information.

hometown brantley, alabama

current residence new york, ny

spoken languages english / asl

driver's license yes

occupation running back for the new york jets

familial information.

relationship status single? kind of? / in a relationship pre-outbreak

mother edie clary ( nee williams ) / status unknown

father patrick clary / deceased

siblings orla clary ( older sister ) / dixie + june clary ( younger sisters )

other ivy emerson ( cousin )

children none

pets a ginger tabby cat named nacho that belonged to his boyfriend pre-outbreak that he found in his apartment alone a week later when he went looking for him and took back to the wexley

personality.

positive traits kindhearted / hard-working / empathetic / grateful / polite

negative traits emotional / detached / unstable / isolating

likes clean socks / early morning workouts / poetry / sunrises / game days

dislikes social media / awkward silences / toxic masculinity / uncertainty / rats

moral alignment neutral good

mbti esfj-t

Before the outbreak, Beau Clary was just about one of the most charming fellas you could hope to meet in a place like New York City; he was raised on the notion of southern hospitality and helping thy fellow neighbor, and even after gaining more fame and fortune than a small-town boy like him knew what to do with, Beau never let it warp his attitude or his ego or make him forget his roots. Hard-working and helpful, he was always the first to lend a hand. And, to be fair to him, he still is, but it isn’t quite the same. He’s hardly a shell of the exuberant, social creature he used to be; where most nights would have previously found him mingling with other residents of the Wexley or heading out to any of the countless bars or clubs studding the streets of the boroughs, lately he’s become enough of a recluse that he mostly only comes when called unless there’s work to be done. To most, he appears aloof and detached - a defense mechanism to keep from letting anyone too close - but to those he trusts, glimpses of the Beau that once was still remain in fleeting smiles and occasional warm, rumbling laughter. In truth, he’s soft and sensitive at heart, and where he used to wear as much as a badge of honor in a sport that previously defined toxic masculinity, in this new world, it appears to be a crippling weakness and one that Beau has tried desperately to stifle and hide away.

biography.

Despite the pressure and public scrutiny that came from being such a high draft pick, Beau seemed to thrive in the world of professional football. The chaos and cacophony of the city were certainly something to get used to, but Beau quickly acclimated - or, if not, he made enough trips home and flew his family out to the east coast enough that he was able to keep grounded in an overwhelming concrete jungle. The next several years were spent working hard and playing harder and he’d been in the middle of an incredibly successful — and potentially Super Bowl worthy— season and it could be argued that Beau was in the prime of his career - and his life - when the outbreak hit New York. The explosion of the entrance to the Wexley was, in a sick, twisted sort of way, the perfect visual representation for the tumult of emotion that accompanied such catastrophic panic and grief. His entire world was in shambles, and it took significant convincing from those closest to him not abandon his apartment for a foolishly suicidal mission to get back home to Alabama — to his family. He did, however, make two separate trips to try and find his partner, the man he'd been beginning to grow serious with just before the outbreak ; both trips to his apartment were met with disappointment, and no evidence whether he was dead or alive. Not knowing only made it worse. Winter was long and hard, and though Beau could often be seen around the Wexley, coming out of the woodwork wherever work needed done to lend a quiet hand, he’d frequently slink back to his apartment without a word once the work was done, keeping to himself. He grieved the loss of a family he feared he’d never know the truth of, nursed the guilt of knowing that if they were gone, it was in part because he’d not been there with them. He hadn’t been there to help them, to protect them. 

Beau Clary was born in a small town in rural Alabama where the number of stoplights could be counted on one hand, everybody knew everybody else’s family, and twice a year, the local high school had a drive your tractor to school day. There wasn’t a whole lot to do growing up, and when Beau wasn’t at school or helping tend to his family’s land and animals, he was playing pickup games with friends out in wide, open fields, quickly proving himself to be a natural at football. Despite the limited opportunities available for someone like him - and they were few and far between in a town nestled so far below the poverty line and nearly forgotten by the rest of the state - Beau was determined to make something of himself and get out of Alabama. He channeled this energy and determination into the sport, excelling on his high school team and garnering the praise and encouragement of local coaches and faculty. In his senior year of high school, Beau’s dedication finally paid off. Even out in the middle of Nowhere, Alabama, there were universities sending out talent scouts. He’ll never forget the way his mama cried and hugged him the day she found his acceptance letter from Clemson in the mailbox - she didn’t even wait for him to get home to open it, and she was waiting at the door when he walked through because, in her words, her baby got a full ride!

With his tuition covered and his degree paid for, Beau was able to focus all of his energy on honing his skills at the sport. At Clemson, Beau continued to shine on the field, becoming a dominant force in the league and a leader amongst his teammates. When he wasn’t on the field, he was studying for any number of his horticultural science courses - academics did not come naturally to him in the same way athletics did, but Beau worked hard to ensure he maintained a respectable GPA the entire time. He was well-liked by his peers and his educators, a friend to everyone who happened to cross his path, and in the end, his limitless positive karma and perseverance paid off. His success on the field coupled with his natural charisma and leadership skills caught the attention of NFL scouts and, when draft day came, Clemson University running back Beau Clary was selected in the first round by the New York Jets. He drove back home after that to spend a few weeks back home in Alabama before flying out to New York to get settled in his new place before he left. A photo snapped by a sports photographer at the airport of an openly-crying Beau hugging his mother goodbye achieved viral status after it was shown on ESPN, and from that moment, his name became a household one and his life was never the same. 

On December 23rd, when rock bottom opened up like a giant chasm beneath the Wexley — quite literally beneath it, in the basement — and Mr. Wexley encouraged everyone to abandon the building in light of the newly-chompified residents and return once it was safer, Beau was among those staying behind and forced to evacuate. In the chaos, he tried to help anyone else he came across in his own pursuit to safety, and he and the few people he could find holed up in a bodega not half a block down from the Wexley that had been ransacked but appeared secure — save for two chompers that Beau managed to dispatch with the aid of another survivor to secure the premises. When he finally returned, it was to devastation and grief — it seemed inescapable these days. He dove headfirst into cleaning up what he could of the physical mess left behind by the chaos, his body and his mind itching for busy work. He just needed to keep himself occupied, focused. Distracted.

headcanons.

Beau still writes letters to his family back home - at least one a week, but often even more - even though he knows he’ll never be able to send them or receive one back.They've been collecting in an old shoebox, but it's starting to fill up as of late.

He was the second-ever active player to openly come out as gay in the NFL, and his decision to do so was divisive amongst fans, but his team was unwaveringly supportive.

Beau was in a somewhat serious relationship before the outbreak, and he’s not seen his partner since it all began. He’s made two reckless and dangerous attempts to visit his apartment, but he’s found no evidence that he’s alive or dead aside from his cat, alone and unfed — and somehow, not knowing what's happened to him is worse.

He’s got a section of his smaller, open floor plan of apartment - he had to downsize when he moved to the third floor from the tenth level - filled with the two things that make him happiest - his family and nature. He’s tended to a number of houseplants as best he can in spite of everything, and the walls are covered with photos of his parents and siblings, cousins and friends.

[thestalwartheart]

the unknown craftsman

This is a another location prompt table fill that fills two prompts. One from @sweetbabyangels and one from @eleanor-is-fine, who sent me 'The British Museum' and 'a beloved place' respectively. I'm sorry this isn't set at the British Museum itself, but it was inspired by Grayson Perry's exhibition there called The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman. Our beloved place is the MI6 Memorial Wall. Warning for grieving/mourning and (the aftermath of) a Major Character Death.

[Read on AO3]

Under a gnarled tree in a private garden—the kind of garden people rarely saw in the urban sprawl of London these days— sat a mound of earth lay recently disturbed and repacked. It sat at the edge of a neat and well-tended-to memorial wall, and for days it had been drawing a crowd of mourners. 

The mourners were not tourists or flighty visitors. They were sentinels, defenders, worker bees and secret keepers, and they did not lay flowers as most people would. Not fresh ones, at least. 

Instead, they built a frame of objects around the soil. To any outsider, it would look mad; cult-like and strange, but then the man they were remembering was strange too. He would have been—or would be, depending on one’s beliefs—delighted to see the bullets dotted on the ground around him. He would have smiled at the model planes and the innocuous-looking watches and the ripped-apart computer accessories. To his right, a jade vase shaped like a hairless cat sparkled in the sun. He’d never seen it in life. It was a gift planned for a day too late, and it was one of the giver’s deepest regrets that he never got to give it to the man now in the ground. 

One woman, who could not keep her tears in whenever she looked upon the grave, placed a bouquet of steel-wrought roses on top of the fresh dirt. They remained there through rain and shine until a new white headstone arrived, gleaming brightly. 

“He was one of the greatest inventors of our age,” explained a man called Tanner to a crowd of colleagues as the headstone hit the ground. “And no one even knows his name. But you have him to thank for the peace of this country and the lives of our agents, half of whom would be dead without the things he built them.”

Tanner looked to a man at the back of the crowd, whose blue eyes were shining. 

All the mourners raised a toast to that. They were drinking a fine single malt from a small distillery in Wales. It reminded Tanner of the sweeping green hills of Bannau Brycheiniog and of marmalade on rye. 

“To our Quartermaster,” he said. “To Q.” 

“To Q.” 

The whisky went down smooth and warm, and people began to desert the grave in hushed groups. They returned to work with memories of Q flowing from their tongues, stories of technical prowess and nerve and shared pots of tea early on weekday mornings. 

At the end, two men remained: Tanner and the blue-eyed man. 

“No chance your talent for resurrection extends to others?” asked Tanner. Alone with a friend, he slumped with fatigue and grief. 

“If it did, I wouldn’t be looking at a headstone.” 

The man poured Tanner another drink, and they stood for an age in silence. The tombstone in front of them spoke well enough of everything they wanted to say. It read, simply:

Q, the unknown craftsman 1982 - 2038.  A stalwart defender of the nation and a dear friend.