#welcome to the socially awkward club!

[sweetlilbird]

Would you guys like to read a sneak peek at a new fic I'm working on? 👀

You stood outside the classroom door, triple checking the small scrap of paper you tore from the larger leaflet on the commons board. Sure enough, the room was indeed room 6900 in the Everett building, an arts and humanities classroom building.

You stare down at your fitbit on your wrist - the cute Stardew Valley clock face shows that the time is, indeed, 4:55pm. About 5 minutes before this club is supposed to meet. A club that, despite your greatest efforts, you hadn't planned on attending. If it wasn't for Undyne giving you quite possibly the saddest puppy eyes (and also the fact that you owe her for helping you study for your calculus midterm), you would have been on your way back to the dorms, ready to tuck into a cup of ramen while you did homework. But no, Undyne's buddy was in desperate need of club members, lest their precious club get shut down. Er, what was the club anyways? You hadn't had the chance to ask Undyne. Well, time to find out.

You gently open the door.

...it's...empty?

Did, did you have the right classroom? You check the paper again - yep, this is the right room. And the right time. Well, maybe a couple minutes early, but usually people show up to their clubs early, right? Oh no, did the club get dissolved before you could help? You floundered around near the entrance, trying to figure out what to do when someone cleared their throat behind you.

"AHEM! EXCUSE ME, HUMAN! I MUST GET INTO THE CLASSROOM SO I CAN PREPARE FOR MY CLUB MEETING! UNLESS, GASP! ARE YOU HERE TO JOIN MY CLUB?!" Jesus, did this guy have any volume control? Also did he just say gasp out loud??

You turn around to face the offending...oh! It's a monster. Wait, that sounds bad. They are a monster, a skeleton monster to be exact. Huh, you feel like you've seen another one lazing around in the courtyards with a sucker in his mouth. This skeleton monster had quite possibly the bluest eyes you've ever seen, wearing a gray t-shirt, athletic sweats, and sporting a blue bandana around his neck.

This person must be the club leader. You regain your composure and hold out your hand, "Yeah! Undyne told me about the club," You faintly remember Undyne telling you not to say the real reason you're here, "I, er, I'm really interested in it!" You give them your best (and fakest) smile you can, trying to sell the idea and hope that he doesn't question you further. Your plan works, because now this skeleton has stars (yes, literal stars) in his eye...holes.

"WOWIE!!! A HUMAN, WANTING TO JOIN MY CLUB! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER! AND WITH YOU JOINING, THIS MEANS WE'LL BE AN OFFICIAL CLUB!" He enthusiastically grabs your hand with both of his own gloved hands, shaking so rapidly and vigorously that your whole body practically shakes. All of a sudden, he gasps (this time just the action), "OH MY GOODNESS, WHERE ARE MY MANNERS! HUMAN, MY NAME IS THE MAGNIFICENT SANS! BUT YOU CAN JUST CALL ME SANS!" Sans poses dramatically, similar to a superhero. Okay, this was actually a bit endearing. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad after all? You supply your own name, though you don't have a fancy title to go with it. Sans simply smiles and heads into the room, placing the large bag onto the teaching podium. You opt to take a seat, sitting right next to the podium. Sans quickly produces a paper and pen for you.

"PLEASE FILL OUT THIS FORM SO I CAN SUBMIT IT TO THE COUNSELING OFFICE!" You nod, eyeing the blue snowman bobble pen with mild amusement. As you're filling out the paper, two more students arrive.

The first, Undyne, who gives you a toothy grin and a thumbs up before plopping into the seat next to yours. The next student, however, was also a familiar face. In all of his lanky, orange hoodie glory, pops in the only other skeleton you've seen on campus. Well, you guess it makes sense that the skeletons know each other. This skeleton starts to walk towards the closest seat to the door, before eyeing you very suspiciously.

As you hand the paper and pen back to Sans, the other skeleton speaks up, "huh, what's a human like you doing here?" You...didn't appreciate his tone. Humans and monsters may not have always gotten along, but they've been coexisting (again) for a decade now. You guess some monsters haven't forgiven humans, which is understandable. Still, you put on a small smile and try to make peace.

"Well -"

"PAPYRUS! DON'T INTIMIDATE OUR NEWEST MEMBER!" Oh, so the other skeletons name is Papyrus? Interesting name. Then again, monsters have very different naming conventions from humans. Papyrus puts his hands up in defeat before reach into his pocket to pull out a sucker.

"sorry bro, s'just a question." Man, now you kind of feel bad.

You quickly come to Papyrus' defense, "It's all good, Sans! It's not really all that common to see humans in monster clubs, I guess." Papyrus gives you a puzzled look before shrugging. Was he really confused as to why you backed him up? Sans huffed, tapping the thick stack of papers against the podium.

"PLEASE DO NOT ENABLE MY BROTHER, HUMAN, HE'LL NEVER LEARN HIS LESSON THAT WAY." Ah, that makes sense now - they're brothers! Before you could say anything else, Sans speaks again, "ANYWAYS, NOW THAT EVERYONE IS HERE, WE CAN BEGIN THE CLUB MEETING!" He claps his hands together loudly, "WELCOME, TO THE SOCIALLY AWKWARD CLUB!"

...

The WHAT?!

You whip your head to the side to look at Undyne, who gives you a sheepish smile. You can't believe this, a socially awkward club? What does that even mean?!

Great, you're really in it now. Might as well see where this goes.

[csuitebitches]

Crafting a Personality and Capitalising on it

How do we craft a personality that is socially charming yet true to our roots?

How do we mingle and meet new people without feeling awkward or shy about it?

How do we not lose ourselves while following all these blah blah etiquette rules?

Welcome to part 2 of my Chic Girl Mentality series. 🤍

Today, we will focus on crafting a personality that is still you but better.

First, let’s talk about people in social settings. You’ll meet people who are confident, secure and socially charming. You’ll meet quiet people who may be equally socially charming or just very shy and conscious. You’ll meet the braggers and the doe-eyed followers. There’s a lot of different types of people in the world and knowing how to gracefully navigate most of them is nothing but a learned art.

People, regardless of their bank balance, are insecure of what they do not have yet. This can be looks, money, experience, lifestyle, and so on. How do we capitalise on this without exploiting or manipulating anyone?

By knowing how to tell a story.

That doesn’t mean that you need to become a public speaker or politician, it just means that you need to be able to craft intriguing stories about yourself, using your own life and experiences, to “sell” an interesting version of you socially. We’re all interesting people but only a few of us know how to say that we’re interesting without saying that we’re interesting.

Experience 

People, even those with money, will always be more attracted to those who have experiences, especially, unique ones. Whether it’s travelling to exotic locations or trying new culinary destinations, or wearing unknown designers, knowing obscure artists or writers, or being at the top of your industry… experience is the most important thing to cultivate first.  You already have experience. If you went to school, high school, college, joined clubs, your first job, any travelling, etc - these are all experiences.

Make a list of 5 of the most interesting experiences you think you have.

Hobbies and interests 

Have a couple of lowkey hobbies that you feel enthusiastic about. Whether it’s doing some charity work on Sundays, or cooking, or pottery, whatever it is, keeping a hobby is healthy. 

There should be something to you that an acquaintance can remark about: “CSB? Oh yes, I’ve heard that she’s a great dancer.” 

Vulnerabilities 

Certain vulnerabilities must never, ever be shared. It will 100% be used either as gossip or blackmail. 

However, coming across as someone with no weaknesses is rather untrustworthy- it makes the other person feel that you’re clearly hiding something. 

Make a list of vulnerabilities that are small and you don’t mind sharing. These should be vulnerabilities that will never ruin your reputation in any form but can be used as a form of bonding with empathy. 

And make a list of hard core vulnerabilities you know you should never share with anyone. Keep it memorised rather than written down. 

Experience + Hobbies or Interests + Safe Vulnerabilities = Personality

Storytelling 

Now that you have some experience, hobbies, interests, and your “safe” vulnerabilities sorted even if it’s limited - what will make it stand out is the art of storytelling. Some storytellers can make even the most mundane experiences sound magical - it’s all in the words and delivery. There’s a reason why every Holy Book is a story, packed with lessons and morals - it’s impactful, easy to remember and recall and relatable. Craft your experiences into stories. Use those 5 experiences that you noted down and start writing them down as stories.

Take up an online storytelling class or watch videos. Start honing this skill by writing and reading good literature. 

Refine your 5 experiences further. Run it through chatGPT, say them out loud and most importantly- start testing them out on people. See what makes them chuckle and what doesn’t; what makes them empathise and what doesn’t.

A famous comedian whose name I can’t remember does the same thing. He creates his set. He goes to a small pub and tries it out on the audience there. And the first set is always the first. The audience may not laugh at his jokes, they might boo him or sometimes, he might get a laugh out of them. But every time, he goes home and refines his set further. Once his set is fully refined, and he accomplishes his goal of the audience peeling with laughter at every joke, that’s when he goes on national TV / on tour etc etc.

The most important thing is to craft your stories of your experiences in a way that it delivers the value you want the person to remember about you.

For instance, if I want to be seen as creative and innovative, I won’t tell the person in front of me, “oh, I’m soo innovative and creative!”

Rather I will weave that into a story. “When I was 24, at my first job in the advertising space, we were losing clients left and right. And one weekend, I was on a trek on the mountains - it’s one of my hobbies - this idea hit me, and I suddenly knew exactly how to get our clients back. My team was hesitant about my idea, and we got a lot of pushback, but we went ahead. The night before my launch I was so nervous, I got hardly sleep. And you won’t believe it, but the idea worked! The response was fantastic.”

Let the other person come to the conclusion of you being innovative and creative. Human beings love to deduce things and jump to conclusions and provided you set the context the right way, you should be able to project the version of you that is the best part of you.

Vocabulary 

A sign of a good education- even if you don’t have it - is a diverse vocabulary. I’ve always had a little more respect and awe for those who are articulate, can speak smoothly and speak confidently. I’ve noticed that my American friends, for instance, tend to talk fast with lots of filler words, and sentences tend to end with a pitch up instead of down, which to me indicates hesitation or indecision. Speaking slower, ending your sentences with pitch going down to indicate a full stop rather than up makes you seem like a refined speaker even if your subject is utterly stupid. 

Body language and mannerisms, social interaction 

Watch old classic Hollywood movies to really understand this - especially romantic ones. Choose ones with a femme fatale or siren-like female lead, and watch how she enraptures the male lead or the audience around her. 

A combination of fantastic storytelling and body language will take you places beyond your dreams. Some of the biggest frauds, scammers, politicians, criminals are also some of the best storytellers. Humans are attracted to stories, we pick up body language intuitively, we can sense when someone is nervous or isn’t. Unfortunately the world isn’t a kind place and will not necessarily help you out of your shyness- in fact, that might just make you the best target for exploitation. 

Storytelling + Vocabulary + Body Language = Your Best Personality

[palajae]

episode three. | park sunghoon

PAIRING ▸ host!sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 3.1k

SUMMARY ▸ host park sunghoon: the strong and silent type. with his cold, tsundere personality and killer good looks, it’s hard not to fall for sunghoon. his connection to sunoo is of utmost importance; however, you could be the one to change that. (but be warned, he’s a man of few words.)

AKA episode three of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ social awkwardness, not proofread

sorry okay it’s been a fat minute since i posted but FINALLY JAE has gotten the next part out ‼️ i really channeled the engene in me for this one lmao.

EPISODE THREE. Beware the Ice Prince!

seriously, you only started attending the en-host club because your friends did and you really had nothing else to do.   

you had heard several of the boys in your grade were in the infamous club, but besides that, you had no interest in “club” affairs. 

natty and lily wouldn’t stop talking about how “chivalry wasn’t dead” and how “god had favorites.” you figured by going, you could kill some time and meet some new people.

mainly due to the fact that you were attached to the hip to your… well, sketchbook. what better to utilize the people around you for your passion? 

and the most pretty ones were—obviously—found at the en-host club! 

by going there, you could observe and hopefully see some good art. 

while your friends had their favorite designated hosts and activities, your first entrance to the club involved a lot of awkward silence and muttering. 

“you mean, you don’t want to hang out with any of us?” sunoo—you think—frowns. 

you shake your head, stammering. “n-no! i just, prefer to be alone. i can just-like-sit in the corner or something.”

he brightens up and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“i see. you just like the company?” 

you nod and the host smiles again. “that’s fine. you don’t have to be entertained by one of us. you’re welcome as much as you like! you could even sit by sunghoon!”

your eyebrows furrow as you follow sunoo’s line of sight to-

oh dear. 

probably the finest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

a true work of art. 

your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest as you glance back at sunoo.

“he doesn’t like to talk much either, so i think you two will get along well!” 

you look uncertainly at the controlled chaos happening all around the room, before back at sunoo. 

he nods encouragingly at you. “don’t worry. even though sunghoon looks like it, he doesn’t bite. in fact, it’s probably the opposite.”

holding your breath, you clutch your sketchbook tighter in your hands before approaching the table sunghoon was quietly sitting at. 

he didn’t even do anything, yet you felt so intimidated. 

wow, it was really stifling to be in his presence. awkwardly, you take a seat. and although he doesn’t move, you feel his eyes land on you. 

biting your lip, you hesitantly wave. 

that was it. no words exchanged. 

after a while, you finally began to relax. still, neither of you said anything. you even felt alright enough to open your sketchbook. 

your eyes would travel across the room, although they always landed on the same person. the one sitting in front of you, silently sipping his tea.

so you sketched. and you enjoyed it. so much to the point you returned the day after, and the day after. 

eventually, the hosts came to know you as a regular. they knew your exact order and your routine. the same every time you came—even without your friends. 

they understood that you simply appreciated sitting and observing. with all the things going on at the club, you enjoyed staying off to the side the most. 

like sunghoon. 

after the first day, you couldn’t work up the courage to approach and sit next to him when he wasn’t with sunoo hosting. 

that was fine. you had eyes. you could sketch him as long as you could see him. pages, filled with a variety of sketches, began to fill up your notebook. 

and most of them were of sunghoon. 

who were you kidding—all of them were of him. every outfit in every season, every expression of his (and he rarely showed emotion). you basically memorized sunghoon’s face. 

and in your time observing at the en-host club, you realized you had only heard him speak a total of six phrases: welcome, goodbye, yes, no, and thank you. 

he more than piqued your interest, but you were far too shy and unmotivated to do something about it. 

checking the clock, you sigh wistfully while putting your sketchbook back into your bag. as always, this was your time to leave. occasionally, one of the hosts would notice you leaving and wave goodbye. 

this time, you’re almost to the door when a tall figure suddenly appears in your line of vision. 

you falter, swallowing abruptly when you realize it’s sunghoon. he looks dashing in his pink hoodie and light jeans—someone mentioned the boys had a boyfriend concept today.  

you stare up at him curiously until he steps closer to you. your mouth dries up at the close proximity. you feel like you can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, as per usual. instead, he walks over and holds open the door for you. 

for a second, you don’t move. and then it hits you. 

what the what the what the, he opened the door for you! 

you quickly squeak out a thank you before practically dashing out of the club room. you’re not sure if you heard or imagined the soft “get home safe,” coming from his voice. 

was he watching you? is that how he knew to open the door? why did he go all the way to help you? did he know what time you usually left? 

you fall onto your bed with a sigh. you were overthinking, and you were delusional. just a little bit. 

perhaps, you would work up the courage to talk to him next time.

you swear you’re not that delusional. most of the time it was you who was staring at sunghoon, sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t looking. whenever he was busy hosting. honestly, your best works were of his stunning side profile. 

but something feels different from that day forward. 

like…like sunghoon was the one staring at you. at first, you were sure you felt eyes on you. 

you would glance up from your sketchbook with a frown, glancing around the room. it was at that moment you would catch sunghoon turning away from you. 

but in what world would he be looking at you? 

he didn’t say a single word. 

it happened so often to the point where you would actually meet his eyes before looking away. you always broke eye contact first. 

this back-and-forth occurred four times before you decided to do something. yes, you counted. 

you decided to remind yourself that you only live once, and you took the chance. you finally stopped being a coward and sat next to sunghoon, one lovely afternoon. 

he seems almost shocked when you approach him, like your very first day at the host club. 

once again, no words were spoken. you simply smiled before taking the seat. unlike the other girls who usually fawned and squealed over him, all you did was sit and enjoy his company. honestly, he was so familiar to you at this point, you actually felt comfortable.   

and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you liked to sneak peeks at him as well. he was even more breathtaking up close. 

that became your daily routine whenever sunghoon was free. although it was absurd, you once thought that maybe he looked forward to sitting and watching with you. 

“what’s up with you and sunghoon?”

“h-huh?”

natty leans over from her desk to shoot you a look. “i mean, what are you two doing in the corner all day?”

you look down at your desk bashfully, “it’s not all day…i just enjoy his company.” 

lily laughs, “sure. i bet you have a lot fun staring at him.” 

you feel your face get hot as natty elbows her. “i think the two of you are cute. even if you have nothing to say to each other.” 

“yeah, i don’t know how you managed to get so close to him. sunghoon is pretty detached from the other girls. he’s just there half the time with sunoo.”

your heart quickens. was that true? 

lily sighs, almost face planting into the table. “what up with all the boys recently? heeseung has been so obsessed with that one student who i don’t even know the name of since they’re so busy studying all the time. and then the top two people of our class are constantly preoccupied with each other. at this rate, i’m gonna move to jake…”

you nodded in contemplation. she was right, you’ve seen heeseung following around your classmate like a baby duck following their mom. even weirder, the two smartest people in your grade started to sit together at the club. 

you were there for it all. 

“sim jaeyun? um, I’m not sure about him. he and riki have a lot of crazy fan girls,” natty wrinkles her nose. “hey, i did hear there was a new host! his name is jung…jung-something.”

“jungwon,” you finish for her. she nods, “i think he’s pretty handsome.”

“not as much as sunghoon though,” you unconsciously mutter. 

sunghoon can easily remember the first day you walked in, eyes wide like you were a kid on their first day of school. the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly. you looked like a baby kitten. 

he catches himself, focusing back on sipping tea while sunoo devoured his sweet treats. 

“do you want a bite, hoon?”

he shakes his head amusedly at sunoo’s bright expression. 

“you should stop eating so many sweets. you already had two slices of cake today.” 

while sunoo pouts and gets up to put his plate away, sunghoon refocuses his attention on you. he didn’t mean to—his gaze was just drawn to your presence. 

he watches wordlessly as sunoo approaches you. you looked so intimidated, sunghoon already felt bad and he didn’t know the reason. 

he catches himself again, internally chiding his own behavior. get a grip, you’re a host. 

suddenly, you’re approaching him. you look like a kitten again in front of him, just like when you first walked in. his whole body tenses. 

sunghoon waits, yet you don’t say anything. only a simple wave and that’s enough to light a fire in his heart. 

he’s surprised to see you sit down and pull out a sketchbook. he observes as you flip through the pages, trying to sneak a peek. but then he realizes he’s being kinda, really creepy. 

so sunghoon purposely turns away to focus. look anywhere but at the person sitting across from you, he repeats to himself over and over. 

after that day, he noticed you didn’t sit next to him. for quite a while. 

so, he chose to watch you. he watched you walk in every afternoon with a hesitant smile. he watched as you took the same seat near the window and pulled out your scuffed up notebook to draw. 

he watched how your lips pursed when you weren’t happy with a sketch, or how you would stop to think while looking around you. 

sunghoon liked the way your eyes lit up when you turned to a blank, fresh page. and when you would smile and greet the other hosts, gratefully accepting a cup of tea. even the look of concern you had on your face as you watched jake and riki do something stupidly dangerous again. 

the thing he liked the most, however, was when he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. 

sunghoon’s not sure why, but he likes it. after all, he couldn’t say anything. he did the same thing to you. 

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

that’s why, when you sit across from him one day with that stunning smile of yours, his breath hitched. 

sunghoon… wanted to say something. he tried, really tried, but no words would come out. he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

apparently, that was fine with you. you relaxed in the silence, so he did too. 

it’s not like he meant to, but he snuck a glance. he was so curious as to what you had been working on in that sketchbook of yours. he knew it had to be your prized possession, the way you carried it around everywhere. 

sunghoon certainly wasn’t expecting to see his own face, beautifully drawn. it was him from a few weeks ago, last week, and yesterday. he remembers the detective concept and outfits they adorned. 

you… you sketched it all. all this time, you sketched him? 

he’s truly speechless, and everyone knew it was hard to make the stoic sunghoon react. 

“…are you friends with y/n?” he randomly asks one day after the club had closed for the day, completely out of the blue. 

sunoo tilts his head, “we’ve talked. why?” 

heeseung pops by, “did i hear hoon’s got a crush? who could have warmed the cold tsundere sunghoon’s heart?”

although he wants to roll his eyes, he simply looks away. 

“y/n?” riki calls from where he’s playing catch with jake, “the one who doesn’t say anything and draws all day?”

“they could if they wanted to,” sunghoon remarks quietly. riki shrugs. 

sunoo watches sunghoon with an inquisitive expression. 

he’s never seen his friend act like that with the other guests before… 

“it’s his birthday soon?” the words spill out of your mouth without even realizing it. you stopped, overhearing some girls sitting near you. 

they eye you, and it registers in your head that they know you’re the one whom sunghoon often sits next to. you seem oh so close to him, and yet you don’t know his birthday? you feel embarrassed, making your way to your normal seat.

“hoon? yeah, his birthday is in three days,” sunoo nods. “why? are you planning something?” 

you’re quick to shake your head, flustered. “nono, i was simply curious… thanks for letting me know.” 

alright. you officially have three days to find sunghoon a gift. 

it’s only then it hits you. you know close to nothing about sunghoon. other than the fact that he was a host, you barely knew his likes or dislikes. heck, you barely even spoke to him. 

you’re doomed. all the other guests were probably going to get him extravagant gifts that were exactly to his liking. 

you? you scrambled to find something that would come in three days. and you weren’t even sure if he would like it. at the least, he could regift it to someone else if he really hated it. 

you clutch the small gift bag nervously behind you as you enter the host club. 

usually, decorations would be set up for the members’ birthdays. however, sunghoon never wanted a big celebration so they would get him a simple birthday cake every year. at least, that’s what sunoo told you. 

sunghoon wanted his birthday day to feel like any other ordinary day. you hoped you could stay true to that. 

or…not.

the sight of said host rejecting someone’s gift to him is the first thing that greets you. your smile immediately falters. 

he didn’t like gifts? your heart begins to race. crap, crap. what were you going to do? you couldn’t hide the gift—someone would find it. it was obviously who it was for, with the big fat words happy birthday printed all over the bag. plus your names written on it, addressed to sunghoon. 

your eyes follow him to his usual seat, only for your heart to drop. 

sunghoon looks around expectantly. almost like, he was… looking for someone (you). he does. almost immediately. 

if you move, he’ll see the bag behind you. heart racing, you decide to charge ahead and approach him. you couldn’t face a rejection of the gift you spent hours trying to find, but you also didn’t want to leave him hanging. 

you walk over nervously, doing your absolute best to hide the bag and appear unaffected. maybe he wouldn’t notice, right?

wrong. sunghoon was probably the most observant person on the earth. his eyes immediately fall to your suspicious hands.

it was over. his eyes flick back up to you with a questioning look in them. 

you close your eyes briefly, internally falling to your knees. well, there was nothing else to do. 

you nervously thrust out the bag towards him, hiding your face as you softly say,

“happy birthday, sunghoon.” 

you hold your breath and wait embarrassingly for the painful rejection. 

spoiler: it never comes. 

“thank you.” 

hearing his voice causes shivers to run down your spine. your eyes fly open. did he just…accept your gift? and more importantly, he spoke to you?!

he takes the bag and puts it aside on the table. 

“are you not going to open it?” 

he looks at your expectant expression before beginning to unwrap the gift. 

“i thought maybe we could share,” you mumble. 

sunghoon carefully opens the intricate wrapping to unveil the gift you ultimately decided on: a smooth, leather sketchbook with pencils. 

“now we’re matching,” you whisper before pulling out your own. 

“i… don’t know what to do with it.”

hearing his voice again still makes goosebumps appear on your arm. you stifle a laugh as you reach over to demonstrate. 

the real sunghoon watches in awe as you begin roughly drawing something in his new sketchbook. when you retract your arm, he’s finally able to see what you did. it’s a beautiful drawing of a cake and the words, happy sunghoon day! 

he glances up at you with wide eyes. you shrug and only look away. to your surprise, sunghoon determinedly picks up a pen and begins doodling as well. 

soon enough, the first page is filled with random drawings, doodles, and most importantly, meaningful connections. 

you both smile and silently laugh at each other’s drawings. sunghoon’s favorite is your drawing of a baby sunoo and his cake while your favorite is of sunghoon’s (rather awful, yet still recognizable) drawing of the seven hosts. 

this is the first time you’ve felt like you truly communicated with sunghoon, even if it was through a paper and pen instead of words. 

when the page is filled completely, you admire your collaboration work proudly. 

“thank you, y/n.”

your heart warms. “o-of course,” you stammer. maybe you were slightly very internally freaking out that he addressed you by your name. 

sunghoon must’ve seen your bashful expression because he reaches over to pat your head. nothing else had to be said, because in that moment, you felt all your feelings were conveyed. 

park sunghoon was supposed to be the cold and tsundere type of host. yet around you, he felt vulnerable, like you brought out a different side of him. 

as you sit across from him, sharing smiles, you wish this moment could last forever. 

all you can think is that sunghoon’s soul is so pure and needs to be preserved, protected. you really hope you can be the one to forever do that. 

previous episode. | next episode.

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@kflixnet

[darl-ings]

midnight radio | jeon wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x reader

genre: fluff, college au

warnings: none

word count: 2390

summary: in which you are a new host for your school’s midnight radio broadcast and wonwoo makes a call to the show

a/n: this has been in my drafts since 2021…

“Good evening, everyone. Welcome to KU’s Midnight Radio. The song you just heard was Sabrina Carpenter’s Bed Chem. I’m Y/N, your host for this semester. As you may know, Midnight Radio is usually hosted by Soonyoung Kwon, or DJ Hoshi, our favorite eccentric dance major, but he’s studying abroad in Japan right now, so I’m here to host the show for him until he comes back in January. 

“You know, I’m actually not that nervous right now, even though I’m alone. I don’t know if any of you know me, but I hosted the show with DJ Hoshi and DJ Hong for a bit during last fall semester. I had a great time since I got to chat with my fellow peers during the late hours of the night. By the way, I hope you’re all having a good night so far. The first week has been really hectic for me, so I’m sure it was for a lot of you too. Make sure to get some rest. After the show, of course.”

You winked at the camera filming you, watching as the comments of the show’s Twitch stream began flooding in. You leaned forward, squinting your eyes to read them.

“Welcome, welcome. I see a few song requests, so I’ll make sure to play some of those later. Does anyone want to have a chat? The number is in the pinned comment if you guys want to talk. I get it if you don’t want to though. I’m having a pretty good time by myself.”

It took only a few moments for the phone to light up next to the laptop. A grin appeared on your face as you reached out to answer it, pressing the speaker button before leaning back to get comfortable in your chair. 

“Name and social security number please,” you joked, crossing your arms over your chest as you smiled over to the camera.

“Wonwoo, 738203830,” the voice answered back, causing you to gasp.

“Did anyone get that? Surely someone wrote that down,” you asked, grinning happily as you leaned forward to read through the flood of comments. “Some people caught that number, Wonwoo. Anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry to Kim Mingyu for outing his social security number,” the person stated, his seriousness making you laugh. The person on the phone chuckled too. “It’s not his actual number, by the way.”

“I’d hope not. If we’re thinking of the same Kim Mingyu, I’m positive he wouldn’t let you live another second if you gave that information away,” you laughed again, thinking about your good friend, Mingyu. 

“You’re right. Do you know him? Tall, good cook, thinks he’s good looking?”

“I do, but I’m not going to fuel his already big ego by talking about him during the show.”

“Good idea.”

“So, Wonwoo. Tell us about yourself. Anything interesting going on?” you asked, anticipating the stranger’s answer. Wonwoo hummed to himself in thought.

“My name is Wonwoo. I live off-campus with a few of my friends, Mingyu included. My major is--”

“Sorry to cut you off, Wonwoo, but if I have another awkward conversation about majors my head might explode. I said tell me something interesting! What are you doing right now?”

“Oh thank God, I wasn’t ready to have someone ask what classes I take and why I choose KU as my school. I hate when they ask that, by the way. Why do they care so much?” he questioned, making you chuckle.

“They don’t care. They’re just trying to fill the awkward silence with an awkward question.”

“Right. Well, what am I doing right now? Hm, I’m in my room watching your stream and talking to you. Mingyu’s cooking ramen for our other roommate Vernon, so I might steal some of it when he’s done making it.”

“It’s the right thing to do. But also, why are they cooking so late? It’s 11:30pm right now.”

“Vernon skipped dinner to go to the Asian-American club meeting. He’s one of the club leaders so he had a lot to do tonight.”

“That’s the best club on campus, by the way,” you pointed out to the camera. “Anyway, did you want to talk about anything, Wonwoo?”

“Hmm, let me think of something interesting. Should I ask an academic or existential question?” he asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought. 

“While I do love existential questions, I think since it's the end of the first week of school, we should talk about academic things. Don’t make it boring though. Maybe some advice?”

“Advice is a bit boring though…”

“I could just ask the next caller…”

“How do you get close to your peers?” Wonwoo quickly asked, making the smile on your face soften. “I mean, maybe we could give a few tips on making friends?” he suggested. You nodded along, clapping your hands gently.

“I like that, yeah. I know a lot of people, including myself, who had or are currently having a hard time getting close to others. Are you the same, Wonwoo?”

“I am.”

“Really? You don’t seem like it. We’ve had a good conversation so far, I think.”

“Yeah, but it’s easier to talk when you’re not face-to-face with the person, you know?”

“That’s true. Maybe that’s why I feel so comfortable talking to a stranger right now.”

“Maybe… Look, I know we said we weren’t going to talk about Mingyu, but he’s a good example for our question. He’s a talkative person, right?”

“Very talkative.”

Wonwoo laughed. “I met him halfway through my sophomore year. He was a freshman but he was more popular than anyone I knew. He came up to me in the cafeteria when I was eating alone and just struck up a conversation with me. I’m surprised he didn’t stop talking to me after that since I was very quiet and gave him short answers. He’s my best friend now, so I’ve witnessed a lot of encounters when he just goes up to someone randomly and talks to them. We went to the grocery store earlier today and he just started a conversation with a worker in the bread aisle…” Wonwoo paused for a few moments, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I guess I’ve always wanted to have his voice. Not like–not his actual voice, but his ability to talk to anyone and keep them interested.”

You hummed at Wonwoo’s words, eyes on the comments as you spoke. “It seems a few listeners have friends like this too. But, yeah, I get it. My friend Yuqi is very extroverted as well. I wish I could make friends as easily as her, but also, I can tell it’s exhausting for them to talk so much. I don’t know about Mingyu, but Yuqi comes back to our apartment after a party and immediately crashes. She pushes herself to talk to all these people, but it just tires herself out. I’m sure if I tried to be that extroverted, I would probably die.”

“Same. I remember after my freshman orientation week, I slept for twenty-seven hours straight. I was going to sleep for more, but my roommate at the time called the on-campus police saying he thought I was dead.”

“Twenty-seven hours? Jeez, you practically were dead! But seriously, talking to people is so exhausting. Especially during freshman orientation! The amount of people I talked to during then was more than I’ve talked to in my entire life.”

“Of all those people I met, I only talk to one of them today. All of it was pretty pointless, but I’ve heard some people meet their best friends during that first week.”

“Yeah, I met a few of mine during then too. But, anyway, back to the question. How do you get close to people? Well, my advice is to remember that whatever you’re insecure about, whether it's your personality, your body, whatever, it does not matter. When you’re meeting someone, don’t focus on the negative things, like if you’re making a fool of yourself or if you look bad. No one cares that much, and if they do, they aren’t a good friend.”

“This is why it took me so long to make friends. I always felt that no one was listening to me when I spoke, so I convinced myself that I had nothing important to say. But my friends now teach me that my voice matters. Vernon especially. He doesn’t talk much, to begin with, but when he does everyone focuses on him, because we care about what he has to say. And when I talk, everyone looks at me and I feel like they’re listening.”

“That’s important, by the way! Make eye contact when you’re speaking with people. I feel so shitty when people aren’t looking at me while I’m talking. I always trail off and just stop talking. Make eye contact, and don’t multitask when someone is talking to you. It’s rude.”

“Don’t get me started on that. I hate when people are doing other things during a conversation, especially if we’re talking about something deep or important. And I really hate when people don’t listen to me after I just listened to them.”

“Please, everyone, listen when people talk. My self-esteem gets so low when people don’t listen to what I have to say. So please, listen to people and be active in the conversation.”

“Being active in the conversation is really important.”

“Exactly. So, in conclusion, listen, be active, and make eye contact. If you make people feel good while you’re talking, they’ll want to talk to you more,” you stated while pointing at the camera with a stern look on your face. You heard Wonwoo chuckle, causing your hand to falter. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re just cute,” he answered simply, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks. You looked away from the camera, suddenly feeling very shy. “Wow, really? All it took was calling you cute to stop you from talking?”

“It caught me off guard,” you whined slightly, hiding your face with your hands. Wonwoo laughed at your reaction, causing a wide smile to fall on your lips. You removed your hands from your face, smiling at the phone. “Did Mingyu finish making the ramen?” you asked, resting your arms on the table. 

“Yeah, a while ago.”

“What? Why didn’t you go eat it?”

“Because I was talking to you. But I should go now. I think they’re watching Single’s Inferno without me.”

“Alright, Wonwoo,” you pouted slightly, sighing as you traced your finger on the table’s wood. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Y/N,” Wonwoo chuckled softly. It was embarrassing how easily a stranger could make your cheeks redden. The conversation with Wonwoo was the best one you’ve had in a while, and you were sad to end the call.

“I’m not,” you denied, sitting up to scoot closer to your laptop. You read through a few comments before speaking up. “The people don’t want you to leave.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you answered, reading a few more comments. “Someone said you should co-host the show with me,” you giggled.

“That sounds fun. Maybe I’ll look into it for you.”

“Don’t be cheesy,” you muttered with a smile, switching your laptop tabs from the Twitch stream to your Spotify. “Before you go, any song requests?” you asked, trying not to sound sad as you spoke. Wonwoo hummed in thought.

“I’ve been listening to SUHO’s album recently, Self-Portrait?”

“I love that album,” you smiled.

“It’s really good. Could I request a song from it?”

“Of course.”

“Okay… maybe, Let’s Love,” Wonwoo suggested, your heart doing a million flips as you typed the song into the search bar. 

“I’ll make sure to play it next. Thank you for this lovely conversation, Wonwoo. Eat well tonight and get some rest,” you stated. “Tell Mingyu to make me ramen sometime, too.”

“Will do. Thanks for talking with me, Y/N. Goodnight, sleep well after the show.”

The line ended shortly after, a sad smile resting on your face. You sighed, looking back to the camera with a wider smile. 

“Now, I will be playing Wonwoo’s song request. It’s one of my favorites off the mini-album, Self-Love. This is Let’s Love, by EXO’s SUHO.”

You held two more shows on Saturday and Sunday night, silently wishing Wonwoo would call again. You had good conversations with other students, but none were as riveting as the one you had with Wonwoo. It was probably easy to search him up, and you contemplated doing so during your free period between classes on Monday as you sat in the campus cafe with Yuqi across from you. Your finger hovered over the Instagram search button, where you had typed in Wonwoo’s name, but to avoid being a creep, you exited out of the app and placed your phone on the table.

“Dude, found your mystery man,” Yuqi spoke up, causing you to nearly spit out your drink. You looked up at her, raising your eyebrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Wonwoo, that guy you talked to during the show on Friday. He’s in Mingyu’s recent post. They went to some water park,” Yuqi stated, still scrolling through her phone. “They all have really good bodies…” she trailed off, staring dreamily at her screen.

“Are you not going to show me?” you questioned, leaning forward to look at her phone. She giggled at your eagerness, turning her phone to face you.

In the photo, Mingyu was standing next to three other guys, including Minghao, who was a partner of yours in your Photography class. You tapped on the picture, revealing the tags of the others standing with them. There was a person tagged vernon_98, who you immediately identified as the Vernon that Wonwoo talked about during your call. Which meant, the other person tagged as everyone_woo was Wonwoo.

You blinked at the picture, taking in the visuals of your mystery caller. You noted his black hair and his glasses which made him look surprisingly good. You blushed slightly at how the wet suit he wore was tight against his muscles, revealing his large biceps and pecs. He held up a peace sign, your eyes trailing to his hand. He was so incredibly handsome, and you just had a conversation with him like it was nothing. 

“Oh my God,” you muttered. “He’s hot?!”

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!

[dailymanners]

Always introduce people in your company who are acquainted with you but not each other

Say you're having a housewarming party, most of the attendees are from social group A that you know from film club, but a small minority of attendees are from social group B from your old job you had a few years back. Then you should introduce the people from social group A and social group B to each other.

Or if you're out grocery shopping with your roommate, but you run into your cousin, and your cousin and roommate have never met before. The polite thing to do in this situation is to introduce them to each other.

The purpose is that many people feel awkward and even uncomfortable around strangers and are unsure if they should say something. People are going to feel way less awkward and more comfortable if they're introduced to each other by the associate that they have in common.

It's also about making everyone feel acknowledged, welcome, and included. When around strangers, people are often more likely to feel like an outsider, or feel excluded. The simple act of acknowledging and introducing people to each other can make a pretty big difference in how welcome and included everyone feels.

[jflemings]

— our 32

pairing: kyra cooney cross x aussie!reader

synopsis: there’s nothing you’d rather do then watch your 32

warnings: none

a/n: starting off wip week with some kyra ❤️

it was pure coincidence that you had gotten a job helping run the arsenal women’s social media the same time kyra made her move to the powerhouse club. it was even more of a coincidence that the two of you had actually lived only suburbs apart in melbourne yet had never met.

from the moment kyra met you, she was completely and utterly obsessed. your kind hearted nature and welcoming aura had her in a trance and she would find herself being more open to filming content for arsenal’s social media despite sometimes feeling awkward doing it.

it was safe to say that her cheeky ways had charmed you pretty quickly and before you knew it she was asking you to dinner and a movie. the two of you bonded over your shared interests and she asked about a million questions regarding what your life was like up until that point, having complete genuine interest in each and every answer.

now almost five months later you sit surrounded by a sea of red and white watching arsenal beat chelsea in the conti cup final. you’re sitting near the bench, you and your friends chanting loudly as kyra gets the ball at her feet.

“nothing i’d rather do than watch our 32, kyra cooney cross! oi, oi, oi!” you shout whilst clapping along with the crowd, your best friend’s arm wrapping around your shoulder “when she’s on the ball she’s fucking magical, kyra cooney cross, oi, oi, oi!”

kyra hooks her foot around the ball, swiveling past chelsea’s back line effortlessly before crossing it. the pass is clean and on target, finding the feet of another red shirt. cheers erupt from the stadium but quickly turn to moans from the gooner end when the ball doesn’t find the back of the net.

the game plays out a similar way until stina puts one past hannah hampton, ultimately winning the trophy for the gunners for the second year in a row. arsenal fans are in hysterics, jumping, cheering and shouting ecstatically. you are quick out of your seat and cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice, your face quickly going red from the blood rushing to your face.

you quickly pull out your phone and make your way to the sideline to get some content of the team and staff celebrating. kyra quickly spots you and breaks out into a sprint, her arms thrown out and a wide grin present on her face. she throws her arms around you and lifts you off the ground laughing “i saw you cheering! i saw you saying my chant!”

you place your hands on her shoulders as she hoists you up further, crossing her arms under your bum “i pride myself on being the loudest for my thirty-two” you wink and smile at her, cupping her face “you played so well today baby”

“thank you for coming” she says softly as she places you down

“it’s my job to be here ky” you laugh “but i’d be here regardless”

looping an arm around your waist, she taps the badge on her shirt and begins to lean in, meeting you halfway to place a soft kiss on your lips. one hand falls from her face and finds itself on her collarbone, your fingertips curl just under the collar of her jersey “go get your medal star girl”

kyra smiles again and pulls you in for another kiss, subtly swiping her tongue along your bottom lip. her action makes you hyper aware of where you are and you’re quick to pull away, making your girlfriend pout as you push her in the direction of her team. her arm slides out from behind you and she kisses your cheek sloppily, running off with a cheeky grin.

“i love you” she yells, looking behind her and blowing you a kiss before she practically jumps on lessi, the two gunners laughing joyfully.

“whipped. so, so whipped” a voice speaks up from behind you. you turn to your left and see caitlin begin to walk past you with katie “soooooooo whipped” the australian drags out obnoxiously whilst pulling a face.

you swipe at her “leave me alone foord!”

[gideongravesbf]

hi :3 and welcome! Here with a request! I was wondering if you could do Wallace wells with a reader who’s pretty shy and awkward when it comes to going to party’s and talking to people? And maybe how Wallace helps them become more comfortable in social settings? Thank you!

yayy first request on this blog :D !!!!! i love this request bc i suck at social intetactions :') and i def need a wallace in my life 2 motivate me 2 step outside my comfort zone

hope u like it !!!

★★★★

wallace is typically super outgoing and social. that's why when he started dating you, he made it his goal to help you become more comfortable in social situations. he needs someone to party with him and who better than the love of his life ?

he starts by inviting you to meet his friends individually. he would probably take you to meet scott first, since scott is also kinda awkward but endearing in his own way. scott probably talks your ear off about obscure video game references.

eventually, he starts inviting you to group hang outs to have you get accustomed to talking to multiple people at once and navigating group conversations.

if those kinds of situations stress you out as well, then he would never ridicule you for it. he'd subtly nudge you into joining the conversation where he finds fit so that you aren't stuck second guessing when you should speak. if you mess up somehow by speaking out of turn or saying something embarrassing or awkward, he'd quickly cover for you and be so smooth doing it that no one else even thinks that you messed up.

once you get to the parties and clubs kind of interaction, he'll practically be glued to your hip. he would never think about leaving you high and dry at an event where you're slightly uncomfortable. he socializes and mingles with you, inviting you into conversations with any stranger he meets at these events so that you don't feel left out.

if you ever express extreme discomfort in a situation or tell him that you're starting to feel overwhelmed, he would quickly excuse the two of you and take you home where he gives you some tlc. he'd make you tea (if you like it) to calm you down and cuddle with you to reassure you that he isn't upset with you for needing to leave.

[hotdonnafox]

Room 307 - Dorm Room Dreams

Mark wasn't sure how he’d ended up with the dorm assignment for Room 307. He was shy, quiet, and definitely not someone you’d expect to room with four loud, carefree party girls. When he first moved in, he had been hopeful about keeping to himself, avoiding the late-night chaos that seemed to revolve around his roommates. They had made it clear from day one that their nights were spent going to clubs, bringing people back to the dorm, and throwing wild parties.

Chloe, Amber, Tasha, and Liv had welcomed Mark in their own way offering shots of tequila and laughing at his awkward refusal. The room he was assigned to was small, but it was fine for someone who valued solitude. What Mark didn’t know was that the previous occupant of the room hadn’t been like him at all.

Her name was Jessie. And she had been just like them.

The first few nights in Room 307, Mark tried to drown out the sounds of music and laughter drifting in from the common area. He had grown up with little exposure to the wild social lives that his new roommates lived. Most nights, he just threw on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and dove into his textbooks, hoping to survive the semester in relative peace.

But then, the dreams started.

At first, they were vivid, hazy moments. He was at a party. The music was thumping, the lights were dim, and people were dancing. He could feel the weight of the room’s energy, the intoxication of attention on him. He was wearing something tight, something revealing, and his body moved in ways that felt foreign. The laughter, the flirting, the high of being in the center of it all. It felt so real, like he was living it.

Mark woke up confused, drenched in sweat, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. He assumed it was just his mind playing tricks on him after being around his party-girl roommates. But every night, the dreams grew stronger. The parties became more intense, the people more familiar. He felt emotions that weren’t his confidence, desire, vanity. He felt the rush of being admired, desired by others. But what was more troubling was that he was starting to crave it.

One night, while in the dream, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. But it wasn’t him it was a girl. Long, wavy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her reflection wore a tight dress that clung to her body. Her makeup was perfect, lips plump and glossy. It took a moment to realize this wasn’t just any girl. It was Jessie, the room’s previous occupant.

Mark woke up with his heart pounding, but something about the dream lingered. That feeling of confidence, of control, of being wanted. It wasn’t something he had ever experienced in real life. And despite his confusion, part of him wanted to feel that again.

As the days passed, the dreams began to bleed into his waking life. The longer he stayed in Room 307, the more frequent the dreams became. Mark started noticing small changes in himself. His reflection in the mirror looked… different. His hair seemed a little softer, longer. His skin, once pale, began to glow with a new vitality. He felt lighter, more graceful. At first, he brushed it off as exhaustion or stress, but deep down, he knew something strange was happening.

His behavior started to shift as well. He found himself lingering in front of his roommates’ mirrors, studying his face and how a touch of makeup might change it. He began to wonder how he’d look in one of the dresses hanging in their closets. The idea horrified him, but another part of him was undeniably curious.

Then came the night he found the box...

Tucked away in the back of the closet, a small, pink shoebox was hidden beneath old bedding. Inside were things Jessie had left behind makeup, jewelry, a few photographs, and a notebook filled with her messy handwriting. As he thumbed through the pages, Mark realized these weren’t just random notes they were memories. She had written about her life in the dorm, the parties, the attention she craved. It was all there her desires, her thoughts, her need to be seen and loved. And as Mark read, something inside him shifted.

The dreams became even more intense after that. Each time he fell asleep in Room 307, it was as if he slipped further into Jessie’s life. He didn’t just dream about the parties anymore he was her. Her emotions, her thoughts, her very essence poured into him, filling every crevice of his mind. She wasn’t just haunting him she was becoming him.

When he woke up, the changes in his body were undeniable. His once rough hands had become soft and delicate, his legs slender and smooth. His chest felt strange, as if it were pushing against his shirt in ways it never had before. His hips curved slightly, his face sharper, more feminine. He was becoming her.

Despite the fear, there was something intoxicating about it. He started wearing her clothes when no one was around tight skirts, crop tops, heels. At first, it was just curiosity, but soon, it felt like the only way to feel right. The person he saw in the mirror wasn’t Mark anymore. It was Jessie, in all her flirtatious, seductive glory.

His thoughts, too, were changing. School became less important. He started skipping classes, spending more time with his roommates, going to their parties, soaking in the attention that once felt so foreign. The girls didn’t seem to notice the changes they were too caught up in their own worlds, and maybe on some level, it just seemed like Mark was loosening up.

But Mark knew better. The more time he spent in Room 307, the less he felt like himself. He was starting to think like Jessie, act like her, want the things she wanted. The shy, timid guy who had moved in weeks ago was slipping away, replaced by a confident, vain, party-loving girl who craved attention. Each time he woke up, there was less of him and more of her.

The final step came one night, after yet another vivid dream. Mark or what was left of him stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection. His body had fully transformed long, wavy blonde hair, a curvaceous figure, full lips, and wide, inviting eyes. He no longer looked like Mark at all. He was Jessie now, through and through.

And as he looked at himself, a smile curved across his lips. The fear was gone. The resistance was gone. He liked what he saw. He liked being her.

There was no going back

[gg-university-if]

At Prince Leopold University you are expected to be the best because remember the best are made not born and you are expected to get good or get lost.

Play as a scholarship student at Prince Leopold University attempt to balance attending classes, make rivals, meet lifelong friends and pursue budding romances all the while dealing with the administration of a major university. Or don't.

Getting a place in PLU is hard, getting a full scholarship is harder. You did both. So perhaps it's no wonder why everyone seems to have such high expectations for you, expected to maintain passing grades, attend your club and be a forward face for the school, it's not like it's anything you haven't done before right? But can you pull it off again?

• Play as male, female or non-binary with options to be straight, gay, asexual or not pursue a romance at all.

• Experience a university that takes itself a little too seriously and expects you to do so as well – define your main character's personality, appearance, history and demeanour.

• Choose what scholarship you're on and which club you're in while training and playing like your scholarships on the line – because it is.

• Choose from track and field, music club, student council and drama club.

• Romance a hot-headed high-school rival, the brooding lead musician, the friendly student president who happens to be your brother's best friend, the charming but distant actor or your awkward roommate or the rebel with equally big dreams.

• Focus on or ignore your relationships with your teammates, acquaintances, family and friends back home, school staff and the public.

The Hot Headed Rival A

Aqil/Aaliyah Radwan, 19

The Vice Captain of the PLU Track-And-Field Club and your highschool rival, they are intense and arrogant with the talent to back it up and they'll let you know it.

In the heat of an argument they find that they don't know why they're shouting anymore and that look on your face stirs something they'd rather not discover.

tldr; rivals to lovers and enemies to lovers.

The Brooding Musician H

Hader/Hetti Jasanoff, 19

The moody, brooding leader of the Screaming Diamonds and the PLU music club, they hate those who see their passion as nothing more than a hobby but they'll allow you to prove yourself.

In the midst of a performance they find their heart skips a beat but they don't want to face the music just yet.

tldr; everyone wants the bad boy and everyone likes musicians.

The Brother's Best Friend B

Beck/Belle Torres, 21

The social, spirited and amiable President of the Student Body and your brother's best friend, with much enthusiasm they're taking care of you at university although it's supposedly a favour.

Despite their popularity they seem to have held most people at arms length when asked they simply laugh and talk about their playground love.

tldr; brother's best friend and friends to lovers and the boy/girl next door.

The Distant Actor F

Frédéric/Frederica Jame, 19

The flirty but distant lead of the school play and the aspiring actor in the drama club, they're more than happy to have humour your whims but when you think about it you don't know all that much about them.

Despite that when you're on stage they only have one command "keep your eyes on me."

tldr; master of the mixed message.

The Awkward Roommate R

Rudra/Rania Punyamurthula, 18

Your roommate for this year at PLU, awkward, excitable, intelligent they seem to be unaccustomed to life without someone else around and they're infinitely excited to make their 'first real friend'.

When they're at every practice with snacks, every event cheering you on from the sidelines you get the sneaking suspicion that there's another reason for their enthusiasm.

tldr; roommates to romance and lonely rich kid.

The Singer Who Made It Big Sid

Sid Diver, 19

The lead singer of the other band on campus who seems to have a rocky relationship with both authority and a certain other musician, despite that he seems more than happy to welcome you into the fold as a new friend or maybe more with a laugh, wild grin and a dangerous look in his eyes.

You can't shake the feeling that they're angry and bitter when you hear them singing but in those hidden moments and stolen kisses behind the curtains, they feel different.

tldr; tenor boy and unreplaced departed.

Demo: Click here (word count: 56k)

References: Click here

Ko-fi: tbd

Portraits: tbd

Next update: tbd

[crosshairlovebot]

falling for mr. batchbury / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: your feelings for Mr. Batchbury blossom as he and his brothers train on your father's estate before they go off to war. During his stay, you realise just how deep your feelings for him go, and maybe, just how much he feels for you too.

REGENCY AU

word count: 6,767

warnings: none. kissing. pining. secret crushes. love confessions.

i have loved the regency romance genre for such a long time, and i was struck with this idea and simply needed to realise it. this was SO fun to write. a good challenge, but mostly just an absolute delight. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

PART ONE

Naval Officer Lieutenant Hugo ‘Hunter’ Batchbury had always been the kind of man who stood out in a crowd – whether he liked it or not. Not only did he sport a unique birthmark the rich colour of port wine across one side of his face, but his roguish handsomeness coupled with his taciturn air had every debutante of the ton vying for his attentions and hand in marriage.

It was vexing.

It was vexing for you, at least, to watch society fawn over the man who had held your heart for more than half a decade. He had been your secret – no one knew of Mr. Batchbury until after the Napoleonic Wars when he and his band of misfit brothers returned from sea.

Society relished in the gossip that the Batchbury family had made their fortune in the war. The tale of their enlisting was scintillating and circled the ton’s social circles like wildfire, whispers in every ballroom and gentleman’s club. Having initially enlisted in the Royal Navy to support their younger sister and save her from a life of destitution, Mr. Batchbury and his brothers moved through the ranks swiftly with the acquisition of prizemoney – their ship infamous for capturing many enemy ships, never losing a battle.

They were heroes in every sense of the word.

But you knew it before anyone else.

Your first encounter with the Batchbury family was when they arrived at your father’s estate for training with nearly nothing but the clothes on their backs. It was a highly irregular practice, but your empathetic father, a commodore of the Royal Navy, had allowed the Batchbury Brothers and their sister to stay with your family as they trained so they would not be separated from their younger sibling, who was but 13 years old with no other known family.

You and your mother had greeted them all upon arrival, politely welcoming them. 

They’d stepped out of the carriage one by one, the tallest and broadest of them first. You wondered how he’d fit inside the coach. Then the spectacled one, then the grey-haired one and then Mr. Batchbury, with his long hair and facial birthmark. You remembered taking in a breath at the sight of him in all his glory. With his brown skin and dark curls blowing in the morning breeze, you were already taken with him, but that only increased tenfold when you watched him turn to help his sister down from the carriage, lifting her from under her armpits and setting her down next to him. You’d been unable to hide your smile when you watched him take his sister's hand in his.

“Hello,” was all he’d said, inclining his head politely before his eyes moved across your mother and then met yours, lingering there.

You were smitten.

You barely remember what words were exchanged between your father and mother and the Batchburys. Just their names. William, Thomas, Carlisle, Hugo, and Meg. You remember curtsying politely when you were introduced, your face hot as you met Mr. Batchbury’s gaze with a small smile. You also remember the whole interaction was slightly awkward and stilted; the Batchbury Brothers unsure of how to accept your family’s generosity.

Meg, however, was eager and talkative. You liked her.

Once they started their training, you spent the coming weeks watching them from afar with Meg, who longed to join them. And boy, were they quite a sight. 

The Batchbury brothers were a healthy mix of brash, loud, clever and cunning. All close in age, they drew the eye in both looks and temperament, but they impressed your father astronomically. The four of them were his finest officers.

Finest in more ways than one, you often thought. Every single one of them was handsome in their own way, but the handsomeness of Mr. Hugo Batchbury had drawn your attentions immediately, and they have not strayed since.

You often spent hours looking out your drawing room window at the garden below, watching him train with his brothers and your father. He would grow sweaty and would end up wrapping a tie around his forehead to keep his collarbone length hair out of his face. Sometimes he would look up at the window, seeming to always know when someone was near, and wave at his sister before nodding at you. You’d flush every time.

You lost count of the number of times you had been scalded for daydreaming, thinking only of the way his ivory shirt billowed in the wind as he sparred with his brothers, a determined look on his face. But who could blame you? Daydreaming of Mr. Batchbury was, in fact, a better use of your time than embroidery.

In the evenings, the Batchbury family dined with your family. The thought thrilled you, knowing you would end every day in the company of Mr. Batchbury. He was often seated diagonally from you, giving you the perfect line of sight of his dark brown-grey eyes, his hooked nose, and his full lips. His face was truly sculpted by the Gods. You wished those dinners lasted all night, just so you could stare at him longer.

He would only engage in conversation when spoken to directly, otherwise, he remained quiet, only humming in agreement or nodding. Sometimes, you felt his eyes on you, but you were most likely imagining such things. 

His brothers were the same, quiet bar a few snide remarks from Carlisle towards William, who often pouted in response. Meg would giggle until she received a chiding look from Mr. Batchbury. His spectacled brother, Thomas, could chatter on about everything and anything. You rather liked all of them. 

You also enjoyed the way Mr. Batchbury’s mouth would quirk upwards at his brother’s ramblings. He truly was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life.

There was one morning, early in his stay at your estate, where you encountered Mr. Batchbury outside of these timetabled activities, and from there began your tumbling down into love.

You walked through the gardens, taking the air after a morning of lessons. Meg was a quick learner, but she bored easily of learning tedious hobbies like pianoforte, and so did you. While she snuck down to the kitchens for more food, you decided to go for a walk.

Your mother had these gardens landscaped to include a small hedge maze in the south corner. No one entered it anymore, except for you, which meant there were no chances of being bothered until you reemerged. But as you followed the familiar pathway towards the centre of the maze, you were surprised to find Mr. Batchbury sitting sideways on the stone bench you usually occupied, his legs stretched across as he hunched over something.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise, stopping in the entrance to the maze’s centre.

Mr. Batchbury startled uncharacteristically and twisted to see you, his strange-coloured eyes wide and curly hair lifting in the gentle breeze. He wore his training gear, sans the tie around his head. The strings of his shirt were open to reveal his deep brown skin with a smattering of dark curly hair right on his sternum. You felt heat grow in your cheeks and tingle between your thighs. You averted your eyes. It was one thing to view it from your window, but another to see it mere metres from you.

“I am terribly sorry, Mr. Batchbury,” you apologised. “I did not expect to find anyone here.”

Mr. Batchbury inclined his head and turned his body towards you. “It’s quite alright.”

His voice was smoky and deep, and you felt it right down to the core of you. You flushed again.

“Please excuse me, I’ll let you get back to your…” You peered down to his lap which held a sketchbook, with a portrait of a woman you couldn’t completely make out. You watched as Mr. Batchbury swiftly covered the sketch with his forearm. Your face burned at the embarrassment of encroaching on his private work.

“I’m sorry. Good day, Mr. Batchbury.”

You turned on your heel, desperately wanting to get out of there, walk into the lake and act out Ophelia’s death when his voice called out.

“Wait. Stay. I will go,” Mr. Batchbury closed his sketchbook and stood.

“That is not necessary, Mr. Batchbury. You were here first; I will find someplace else to hide from my mama.”

Mr. Batchbury’s mouth lifted in amusement, his entire face brightening at the show of delight. “In that case, we both must stay. I am also hiding...but from my brothers.”

You smiled and took a tentative step towards him. “Is that so? I can’t imagine why you would hide from them.”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head. “You would if you were permitted to spend an afternoon with them.”

You laughed lightly and when Mr. Batchbury gestured to the stone bench for you to sit down, you obliged. Your whole body alighted when you felt him sit down next to you, hyperaware of his strong arms inches from yours as he placed his sketchbook on the other side of him. After a moment of silence, you spoke up again.

“Are you quite certain that I am not intruding?” you asked, turning towards him.

Mr. Batchbury nodded. “I am quite sure. It is nice to have polite and quiet company.”

You smiled. “Your brothers do not often speak at dinner. Except for Thomas, of course.”

Mr. Batchbury took in a breath as he stared out towards the hedge. “My brothers and I are not used to high-born life. And I have told them to be on their best behaviour at dinner. In private, my brothers talk and argue often.”

You studied his profile. Up close, you could see the way the edges of his birthmark were not exact lines and instead seemed to fade into the skin around it. You wanted to reach out and touch it, trace the imperfect lines with the tip of your finger softly and feel the roughness of his stubble as you moved across his face gently. But it would be extremely improper, so you curled your fingers into your palm tightly to suppress the urge.

“I imagine it has been an adjustment staying here whilst you train with my father.”

Mr. Batchbury linked his own hands together. “He is a great man. But yes, it has. I believe my brothers are anxious to go to war, just to escape the expectations of being guests. My sister, on the other hand, is quite enjoying her time. She was very pleased to hear your father will be allowing her to stay whilst we go abroad to fight.”

A warm smile danced on his face at the mention of his sister. You knew he was the eldest, and so the care of her fell mostly onto him. But he did not seem burdened by it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy being the parental figure for his sister. And Meg spoke of him often, telling you stories of how he would stay with her at night in their old cottage, curling around her to keep warm when they ran out of coals. Or how he would give her at least half of his food, even if it was their only meal of the day and he was starving. These tales not only solidified how much he loved his sister and what he was willing to sacrifice for her, but stoked the flaming crush you had on him. 

He was already a hero to his sister, and he hadn’t even gone to war yet.

“I will be glad to continue to have her company,” you told him honestly.

Mr. Batchbury met your eyes and smiled at you, and you felt the air leave your lungs. He left you breathless, and to receive such a smile from him…one so unfiltered, warm, and so genuine, you felt lucky. His whole face lit up, his eyes bright as they creased at the sides. The feelings bubbling inside your stomach only grew. You averted your gaze, face heating.

You quickly moved the conversation on. “Are you anxious to leave as well?”

“In some ways. But in others…” Mr. Batchbury trailed off, gaze lingering in your periphery before he shook his head and continued. “I will miss Meg terribly. But we have to protect her, do what we can to ensure she is safe.”

You felt your heart squeeze at his words. His devotion was unmatched, and you had the sudden wish to be included in it; for him to be so devoted to you. What would it be like to be loved by Mr. Batchbury? You imagined it would be rather wonderful.

“It was very admirable, what you are doing for her,” you said, smoothing the fabric of your gown.

Mr. Batchbury only shrugged. “Anyone would do such a thing for their family.”

You looked at him with a smirk. “I would not be so certain.”

He sounded genuinely surprised by this, blinking at you as he placed a hand on his rather muscular thigh and turned his body to you. “No?”

“I’m sure there are many out there who would simply send their siblings off to school,” you told him. “I know of men who do that now, who are not at war, so they do not have the responsibility of caring for a child beyond sending tuition money.”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head. “I can’t imagine leaving any of my siblings behind like that, let alone Meg. I don’t even want to leave her behind at all, but war is no place for a child.”

You gazed at him, and you could not hide your admiration. How could a man like this exist and not be a figment of your imaginings? He must have been sent from heaven, for a man on Earth could never be so exceptional, so lovely.

“You are a good man, Mr. Batchbury.”

Mr. Batchbury met your gaze and watched you with an expression you could not recognise. No matter how much you wished, no matter how much you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, you could not look away from him. His brown-grey eyes bore into you, like they were seeing into your soul, and giving you a window into his. When you looked at him, you saw someone so kind and so unselfish, so devoted to his family and to keeping his sister safe. Someone willing to put himself in danger in the hope that she would be taken care of in his absence. His heart was huge, and he downplayed all of it, acting like it was not a choice, but something he simply did because he loved. 

When Mr. Batchbury loved, you'd learnt, he loved faithfully and unwaveringly. His heart found a place to belong, and then never moved. It was a mountainous kind of heart, that stalled and weathered storms for those it loved and shielded them from harm, that remained strong for eternity.

Oh, how you longed to experience it.

You absently parted your lips and watched as Mr. Batchbury’s eyes darted towards the movement. He gazed there, zeroing in on your mouth for a moment too long before he cleared his throat and abruptly looked away. 

“I should find my brothers; ensure they have not caused any trouble while I’ve been hiding.” He stood up, gathering his sketchbook and pencils, sounding a little breathless.

“Yes, o-of course.” You could barely string a sentence together, overcome with how much you felt for this man, and how he just looked like he had wanted to kiss you.

“Thank you for the company,” Mr. Batchbury inclined his head before quickly walking away, back through where you came from, his footsteps light against the gravel. 

You took a deep breath and attempted to calm your racing heart. But you feared your heart would forever be hurried as long as Mr. Batchbury continued to exist in the same time as you.

In the several weeks that followed, you would have unplanned meetings with Mr. Batchbury in the maze. At least, they began as unplanned, before you both found excuses to meet each other there. It was so easy being with him, to talk to him and laugh with him. Some days you would regale him with tales of your childhood, and then beg him to tell you of his, no matter how fleeting it had been due to their circumstance and his position as eldest sibling. On others, you both did not talk at all, only sat beside each other, you with a book, and him with his sketchbook aimed away from your eyes.

One day, after many meetings in which your feelings for him grew beyond your known capacity, you taught him several dances. By his request, surprisingly.

“I did not take you as one to dance,” you teased him, standing up and walking several metres to where there was a space for you both to dance unobstructed.

You watched as the port wine stain across Mr. Batchbury’s face deepened slightly in colour. Was he blushing? “I am not. I think it will help with…my training.”

You gave him a strange look before you began teaching him.

“Now half turn, and pass by my shoulder,” you told him, and he followed your instruction. He was a fast learner, and as it turns out, a fine dancer. Perhaps the entire Batchbury clan were quick studies.

“Hold my hands, and we turn together,” you instructed.

You felt his hands encircle yours and through the barely there lace of your gloves, you felt the heat of his palms on yours. You hitched a breath as his fingers curled to hold yours firmly; securely. You met his eyes, which were on yours in an intense gaze that left you breathless. You dared not look away from his eyes, one side surrounded by his birthmark, as he turned with you. You forgot what choreography came next as you both turned slowly around each other, moving closer and closer, hands intertwined. 

Eventually, you slowed to a stop, but neither of you moved to break apart. Your noses nearly touched, and you’d never been so close to a man in your life. You could feel his breath on your skin, and you were sure he could hear just how fast your heart was beating. Mr Batchbury’s hold on your hands was the only thing that tethered you to the Earth, nothing else could be comprehended but his touch and his eyes. You felt the pad of this thumb gently move across your knuckles in a gesture you’d only read about in books. You inhaled softly, heart expanding in your chest.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed.

“Yes,” he breathed back.

“I…I don’t remember what comes next,” you whispered, not sure what else to say.

Mr. Batchbury blinked several times, as if he suddenly realised where he was and how intimate their position had been, and took a step back, placing distance between you both. He then looked down at your hands and then gently let them go.

“I’m very sorry. That wasn’t…” He paused before he settled on, “Right.”

You quickly shook your head, wishing he would come closer once again. “No, it’s quite alright. Really.”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head. “No. It’s not. Your father would not be pleased.”

“I care little of what my father thinks. And we were only dancing.”

“Dancing,” he repeated like he was unsure himself.

“Dancing,” you confirmed. You held out your hand, desperate for him to take it again. “Please, let us continue.”

Mr. Batchbury looked at your hand hesitantly before he took it again, this time his hold loose and non-committal and you longed for the way he held you just minutes ago.

You raced through the rest of the dance, and when you had finished, Mr. Batchbury thanked you before making an excuse and leaving swiftly. You sighed and sat on the bench, thinking back to the way he had looked at you; the hold he’d had on your hand and the way he’d moved his thumbs across your knuckles. He had been so close…surely…surely he had wanted to kiss you? No one looked at someone like that, held someone like that in a dance without the hope that their lips would meet their partners…right? You put your head in your hands. You did not know, and there was no one you could ask. 

You wished he had. You wished he had pressed his lips to yours, and ended your misery. You imagined it endlessly. You thought of the way he would hold you close against him as he moved his lips against yours. His looked so soft, you imagined they’d feel soft too. They’d be gentle, coaxing, teaching yours. You’d place your fingers into his hair, tangling them in the curly locks hoping they’d get trapped in there, chaining you to him forever. He was so proficient in everything else he did, surely he would be when it came to kissing too. 

Oh, yes, you thought. To kiss Mr. Batchury would be heavenly indeed.

The next day, you weren’t sure you would find Mr. Batchbury in the maze. As much as you wished differently, you suspected that after yesterday afternoon’s dance lesson, you would not see him again until the evening. 

But you reached the centre of the maze and saw him sitting there with his back to you, no doubt his sketchbook on his lap. He had tilted his head slightly at the sound of your footsteps – his hearing was exceptional.

You swallowed and began to walk towards him. He turned to face you, swivelling his body as he made room for you on the bench. He pulled his sketchbook to his chest, hiding the pages from your eyes.

“I apologise for yesterday,” he said. “I should not have been so…”

“We were only dancing,” you were quick to reassure.

He did not say anything, he only looked at you, something indiscernible passing over his face as you watched his hands tighten on his sketchbook, the pages squeezing under his fingertips. You watched him curiously, trying to decipher the crease of his brow. If you were brave enough, and were sure your actions would not scare him away yet again, you would push the pad of your thumb into the lines formed between his brow, flatten them gently until they were gone. Your need to touch him only intensified after how close you’d been to him yesterday. To feel the tickle of his breath on your cheeks tease how easy it would’ve been to close the distance was a cruel twist of the knife into your feelings for Mr. Batchbury, knowing you would not get that close again. 

After several beats of silence that seemed to feel endless in your agony, he said, “My brothers and I will be departing tomorrow at dawn. Your father says we are ready.”

Your breath hitched in surprise. “Oh.” 

You felt your throat close up. You knew it was coming, but did it have to be so soon? You had grown so used to his presence these several weeks, to seeing him training, to dining with him, to spending these precious hours with him in the maze…how would you do without him? And he was going to war no less…the thought that he might never return was so violent you felt it proverbially slam into you, and you had to grip the edge of the stone bench to steady yourself.

And even if–when, when he came back, so much could change while he was away. Your mother would surely take you to London for another tedious season, desperate for you to make a match. Only none would live up to Mr. Batchbury. And if you did marry at your mother’s behest, he would return, and your feelings would come back stronger than ever, only now there was no chance of anything to come of you both. He would surely find someone else, and marry them instead.

You felt like crying. You wanted him to stay. But he never would, and it would be selfish and foolish to ask.

It seemed as though Mr. Batchbury would be someone you were only meant to know for a short time. 

“I’m sure you and your brothers will be missed by your sister,” you managed to choke out. And by me. I will miss you so terribly I fear my chest will break open with the ache of it.

Mr. Batchbury gave a pained expression. “I feel sick at the thought of leaving her.”

You didn’t stop yourself this time, placing a hand on his forearm. “I will look after her. She will be okay. I promise you, Mr. Batchbury,”

He looked at you, brows slanted in a way that broke your heart and mouth stretched into the saddest of smiles. “That is my only comfort, knowing you will be there for her.”

“It is the least I can do,” you strained out, forcing a tight-lipped smile you only hoped fooled him into thinking you did not feel as much as you did.

He looked at you, eyes darting over your face for several moments before looking away, his knuckles white with their hold on his sketchbook. You traced your gaze across his profile, outlining the hook of his nose against the overcast sky. You had already memorised it, but you allowed yourself one last look. If you were accomplished at drawing, you would’ve filled sketchbooks with his face, a visual ode to his beauty, and a eulogy of your love.

“I should go,” he cleared his throat. “Ensure we are ready, spend as much time with Meg as I can.”

You blinked away tears. “Of course.” Would he really say nothing more to you? After all this time spent together?

Mr. Batchbury stood up and in the movement, his sketchbook dropped on the ground in front of you, page splayed open to his drawings. You looked down and inhaled a sharp breath when you finally laid your eyes upon the sketches that had evaded you.

The drawings…they were all of you.

Mr. Batchbury bent to hastily pick up the book and close it roughly and caged the book against his chest, concealing the drawings of you once again. You looked up at him, mouth parted in shock as he pointedly avoided your eyes the port wine stain on his face growing darker as he blushed. 

“Mr. Batchbury–”

“I must go,” he strangled out and started to walk. 

You couldn’t let him leave like this. Not now. Not when you’d just discovered this; his sketches of you. You stood abruptly and blocked his path, your hand raised in a stop motion which he bumped into. “Wait, please.”

His expression was full of anguish as he finally met your eyes. But you needed to know, even if he wished you didn’t.

You turned your palm up between you slowly, your brows slanted as you looked towards him. You watched his eyes move down to look at your waiting hand and then back to your eyes. 

“May I…?” you breathed.

You watched his arms flex as he hesitated, his chest rising and falling behind the sketchbook. After a moment, he reluctantly handed it over. You opened it gingerly and began to slowly comb through the pages. 

The book started with florals, landscapes, and portraits of his brothers and sister before they slowly became interpolated with the sketches of you. Your heart raced as you looked through them. There were so many. You knew he had little money at all, let alone for something as frivolous as an art book, and yet he’d filled so many pages with you. With you sitting at dinner, of you laughing, you from the drawing room window, you on the bench reading. 

He'd filled a sketchbook with you.

All these weeks, he’d been looking at you as you looked at him? This whole time? 

You then landed on the most striking of all – your eyes yesterday, up close as he’d stared into them as you danced. 

They were remarkable, and all done by memory – you hadn’t sat for a single one.

You looked up at him, and his eyes flicked to yours, an expression a combination of pain and embarrassment as his port wine stain was still darkened with blush.

Your voice was but a whisper. “They’re all of me.”

“Yes,” he rasped, but his eyes never left yours.

“W-Why?”

“Because you are bewitching to me,” he told you, his voice stronger now. He’d answered it like he could not believe you had to ask, like he was shocked it was not obvious to you. Like it was fueled with the truth. Mr. Batchbury did not lie, and his words were spoken with conviction, as sure as the mountains his heart mirrored. “Because I am unable to go a single moment without you in my thoughts, and I’m not sure I ever want to be free of such notions.”

You gaped at him. “Mr. Batchbury–”

“I apologise if I overstepped.” He spoke directly, as though he had embraced his truth; his actions. Like he was no longer embarrassed, but rather empowered and confident in how he felt. “I should have asked. But how could I?”

You did not know. Maybe if you weren’t reeling from his confession, you would have an answer for him. But even then, perhaps there was no right way to say you wished to capture someone’s likeness tens of times over.

You wanted to speak, but you were shocked. You were bewitching to him ? He could not stop thinking about you ? You could hardly believe it to be true. You could hardly believe that a man like Mr. Batchbury had been occupied with thoughts of you . You, a mere earthling to an ethereal angel such as him.

But Mr. Batchbury did not lie. He was as faithful as the mountains, after all.

At your growing silence, he perceived this as your disapproval of his actions; of his feelings. He took a shaky breath as he slowly took the book from you and closed it.

“I…I have upset you,” he deduced, dejected. “I–”

You cut him off, desperate to tell him of your own feelings. Desperate to say you thought of him the same. “You have not upset me.”

Mr. Batchbury’s brows raised and his eyes widened in surprise. You swallowed as he gazed upon you. If he had been brave enough to tell you, you could tell him. But how? What words? What arrangement of phrases could you string together to fully convey the extent of what you felt for this man? You feared you could not. But you would try.

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “You…are so incredibly cruel for telling me this now, when you cannot stay.”

You watched his expression as he registered your words and what they implied, as they sunk into his bones. You watched his mouth part with a breath and his shoulders relax – you had not even been able to tell how truly anxious he had been waiting to know how you felt.

He shook his head, his voice quiet once again, but still held the strength of his truth. “I know.”

“And yet,” you took a breath as you smiled at him, eyes stinging at the bittersweet moment of the truths you were unveiling. “I cannot be angry with you, not when my heart is completely and utterly yours.”

Mr. Batchbury sucked in a breath at your words. You watched his eyes soften around the edges as the breeze blew through his curls, lifting them off his shoulders at the same time the corners of his mouth lifted slightly too. His grip on the sketchbook slackened. Your heart warmed at the expression on his face, the look of disbelief mixed with joy.

His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it, that smokiness only highlighting the vulnerability of his words. “You truly mean that?”

You let out a breathy laugh, smiling. “I do.”

He dropped his sketchbook, falling to the side of you both as he stepped forward and took your hands in his, squeezing them gently and securely. His palms pressed into yours, the warmth travelling under your skin and igniting your insides. His chest brushed against yours and you looked up into his brown-grey eyes, watching the way light seemed to dance in them when he was happy. 

“Tell me again.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you squeezed his hands as the words fell out of your mouth earnestly and easily. “My heart is yours.”

Mr. Batchbury sighed, closing his eyes and pulling you flush against him, pressing his forehead to yours, his arms now encircling your waist. You gasped, placing your hands on his chest. You let your eyes fall closed as your noses touched. You were even closer than you had been yesterday – though now you couldn’t believe you thought that had been close, not when you were pressed against him like this. 

You catalogued every detail of his body against yours. Even through your corset, you felt the hardness of his chest. He was so warm and solid, and under your hands, you could feel the steady beat of his heart moving rapidly, matching yours. His breath tickled your skin, and you breathed it in, his hot breath filling your lungs.  He smelt of soap and cedar and it was entirely intoxicating. You had to find a way to bottle this smell up, and keep it under your pillow to breathe in. He had completely engulfed you, physically and emotionally.

And you never wanted him to stop.

You felt his throat vibrate, the deep tenor of his voice trembling under your hands. It was like he was speaking inside you. His voice was husky and you felt the breath of his words on your lips. 

“One more time.”

You did not hesitate. “I am yours.”

He kissed you then, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that felt like your entire body was on fire. You drew in a breath as you felt his hold on you tighten, his head tilting as he moved his lips against yours. You had never been kissed before, but something told you that kissing did not always feel like this. Just as he engulfed you before, he overwhelmed you now. His mouth was hot, and passionate, his kisses deep as one hand cradled your head to his. He kissed like he loved; faithfully, strongly. You could never guess what was in his heart when he kissed like this. It was obvious.

You had imagined kissing Mr. Batchbury would be heavenly. But it was better than that. His full lips were soft, as you thought, and though his kiss was passionate, it was never controlling or taking without permission. His kisses coaxed you, draw you further into him.

You moaned into the kiss and you felt his hold on your body tighten again. Your mouths opened for air, but you did not end this embrace. You moved your hands into his hair and fisted his curls as you'd always wished to, and drew him in closer again, kissing him once again. You could not get enough. How could you stop? It was dizzying. You felt his groan against your hands and lips as he deepened the kiss once more before pulling back. 

He did not go far, and neither did you. He pressed his forehead into yours once again, noses against each other and you both caught your breath.

“Am I dreaming?” You spoke without thinking.

Mr. Batchbury’s chuckle sent every nerve ending in your body tingle. “I hope not.”

You laughed lightly and drew back a little to see Mr. Batchbury’s smile. What a sight to behold, the way his cheeks stretched to accommodate such joy on his features. His eyes seemed to sparkle too. You felt dazed, like you’d just seen heaven on Earth.

You allowed yourself to trace the outline of his birthmark with your finger, just as you’d always imagined doing. You felt Mr. Batchbury’s arms encircle your waist, his eyes never leaving your face as you performed your featherlight ministrations down his forehead, across his cheek and all the way to his chin.

“You have to come back,” you whispered, your voice breaking a little.

He blinked at you, and you felt his face move under your fingers as he spoke, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You’re willing to wait for me?”

You frowned at him. “How could you ask that when I just told you I am yours?”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head and leaned in again to kiss you once more. This kiss was much shorter than the one that preceded it. And it was sweeter too. You smiled into the kiss before he pulled away. The expression on his face one of uncertainty.

“What about your father? He will not approve.”

You shook your head, fingers moving to his curls, pushing them back and tucking them behind his ear. “He likes you a great deal.”

“Maybe. But I am…” He trailed off and you frowned and cradled his face in your hand. He kissed your palm as if it was instinct.

“You are what?”

Mr Batchbury bit his lips as lifted a hand from your waist and cupped your jaw, his thumb running across your cheekbone as he looked at you with such devotion you thought you might cry. 

“Poor. I have nothing to offer you, my love. And I am going to war.”

Your heart squeezed. Had this been the source of his hesitation all along? You shook your head. “I do not need anything but this–” 

You placed the hand that held his face on his heart. You felt it pick up under your palm as you gazed into his eyes. You watched his face cycle through several emotions before it seemed to land on adoration. His eyes softened, and his birthmark deepened in colour before he shook his head.

“Bewitching,” he whispered before he leaned in to kiss you again. You felt his every emotion in this kiss as if you truly had fused together, feeling each other's emotions as your own. You felt his love, his devotion, his agony. You wished he did not have to go. But he had his duty to his family. It was cruel that you had managed to know the tiniest feeling of what it would be like to be loved by Mr. Batchbury, and now had to give it up. How could the stars be so vicious? To pull you both together, only to rip you apart again. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as you moved your mouth against his, deepening the kiss until tears fell down your cheeks and he pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours, a strangled sound coming from his throat. 

You opened your eyes to see his full of anguish and pain. When he saw the tears that stained your cheeks, he brought the backs of his fingers to your cheek and brushed them away gently. You sniffled as he cradled your face with both hands before pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. When he met your eyes again, his expression was determined.

“I will come back.” He meant it and believed it.

“Promise me,” was all your voice was strong enough for.

“I promise.” His voice was smokey and hard. Immovable devotion – that was Mr. Batchbury. A mountainous heart that loved fiercely. That loved you fiercely. “I will come back and marry you so I can love you forever.”

You could no longer speak in fear of sobbing in his arms. So you kissed him once more, doing everything you could to memorise the feel of him, so when you woke the next morning and he was nowhere to be found, you could fall back into your daydreams, this time knowing what he felt like and that you would feel it again one day.

He promised you.

Now, almost half a decade, an earned nickname, and a conclusion of a war later, you watched him from the other side of the ballroom. And when Mr. Batchbury – Hunter, as he was now known, met your gaze, he smiled at you knowingly, his eyes soft with the same love you remembered from the maze. You returned it before excusing yourself from the conversation you were not listening to, and disappeared from the ballroom towards the gardens.

banner art by @vimse i hope you enjoyed this FIRST installment. yes, FIRST, bc what is a regency romance without a steamy encounter...hehehe ANYWAY stay tuned!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez

TAGLIST FORM

[quirkyenby]

So I was surprised that there hasn't been a Baldur's Gate Sims 4 Legacy Challenge made yet, so I made one. This only includes the BG3 companions and custom characters. You're welcome. Let me know if I forget a pack.

Required packs: Get to Work, Realm of Magic, Strangerville, Snowy Escape, High School Years, Cottage Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Get Together, Cats and Dogs, Discover University, Growing Together, Parenthood, Spa Day, City Living, Vampires, Werewolves (optional), Island Living (optional), and Romantic Garden Stuff (optional)

Generation 1: Laezel

Socially Awkward, Genius, Active

Start as an Alien; you are not allowed to disguise yourself

Complete the BodyBuilder aspiration

Reach max Fitness and Logic skill

Reach level 10 of the Military career, either branch

Become Woohoo Partners with a sim and achieve Best Friend status without any romance bar

Have at least one Science baby with your best friend (No Try for Baby or Adoption)

Generation 2: Wyll

Self-assured, Proper, Good

Complete the Social Butterfly childhood aspiration

Complete the Friend of the World aspiration

Complete the Diamond Agent career track

Reach max Charisma and Dance skills

Have a negative relationship with Lae'zel and leave the house as a Young Adult

Have one child with an Evil, Mean, or Jealous sim, who will be Karlach.

Achieve soulmate status with another sim and stay with them until you die.

Generation 3: Karlach

Goofball, Hot-headed, Self-assured

Complete the Rambunctious Scamp childhood aspiration

Join the Football Team and become Football Captain

Complete the Joke Star aspiration

You must reach the Comedian branch as a Young Adult, but quit for the Manual Laborer part-time job until your death

You must have at least one child with a friend or lover in your household

Die as an Adult having completed all requirements

Generation 4: Shadowheart

Gloomy, Noncommittal, Snob

Be raised by a sim that is not your surviving parent. You are not allowed to interact with your original parent until you become a Young Adult.

Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration

Max out the Pet Training and Mischief skills

Reach level 3 in the Criminal career, and then max out the Detective career

Own at least one barn and one chicken coop

Have at least one child

Optional: Have your child through the Wishing Well

Generation 5: Halsin

Love the Outdoors, Romantic, Animal Enthusiast

Become a Master Llamacorn Scout

Complete the Serial Romantic aspiration

Max out Gardening and Parenting OR Nectar-making skills

Reach level 10 in the Conservationist OR Gardener career

Have at least 5 children with all different sims, one of them a spellcaster (Gale)

Own at least two barns, one chicken coop, and one garden plot, including Shadowheart’s barn and coop

Optional: Become a Werewolf and master control of your wolf form. Woohoo in Wolf form at least once.

Generation 6: Gale

Ambitious, Bookworm, Good

Must be born a spellcaster

Complete the Creative Genius or Whiz Kid Childhood Aspiration

Join the Chess team as a Teen and become Chess Team Captain

Become an A Student in Grade School and High School

Max out Research and Debate and Cooking skills

Go to the Magic Realm as a teenager and train with a spellcaster. Have a romantic relationship and break up with that spellcaster as a Young Adult.

After the breakup, perform the Rite of Dissolution. (RP that this was forced.)

Complete a University degree

Max out the Professor career track and have at least one non-spellcaster child with a different sim

Optional: Become a Spellcaster again after completing your studies and reach Virtuoso rank before your death

Generation 7: Astarion

Paranoid, Kleptomaniac, Unflirty

Complete the Slumber Party Animal childhood aspiration

Join the Drama Club and become a Junior Artiste as a Teen

Join the Law career and reach level 5

Seduce 10 sims and lure them to Straud’s mansion, turning at least 5 of them into vampires. You can only control Straud to turn sims; otherwise, you must primarily control Astarion. You cannot have a job and can only leave the mansion to pursue victims as long as Straud lives.

Be turned into a vampire by Straud as a Young Adult and move into his household

Make at least 3 friends

Kill Straud in your lifetime and take over his mansion

Achieve soulmate status with a non-vampire

Max out Vampire Lore and Mischief skills

Have at least one child

Cure yourself of vampirism OR turn your soulmate into a vampire

This generation can overlap into Generations 8 + 9, but must be completed before Generation 10

Generation 8: Minthara

Self-absorbed, Evil, Ambitious

Can be a vampire or human, but must identify as a woman

Finish the Mind and Body Childhood Aspiration

Join the Cheer Captain activity as a teen

Max out Fitness and Charisma skills

Complete the Leader of the Pack aspiration

Only women can be members of your group

Reach level 10 of the Business career, either branch

Have at least 5 enemies

Have at least one child

Generation 9: Dark Urge

Erratic, High-Maintenance, Gloomy

Complete the Public Enemy aspiration, then the Friend of the World aspiration

Max out Mischief and Wellness skills

Make 5 enemies, then repair all the relationships to Friendship level

Reach level 10 of any career

Have at least 1 child

Generation 10: Tav the Bard

Cheerful, Good, Creative

Complete the Artistic Prodigy Childhood Aspiration

Complete a University degree

Complete the Bestselling Author Aspiration

Reach level 10 in the Acting career

Max out Guitar (Lute) and Singing skills

Write 9 novels that correspond with each previous generation

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Yandere Werewolf!Wonwoo) 3.4k, yandere, ABO dynamics, aggressive behavior, supernatural, kidnapping, restraints, biting, blood (@starillusion13)

“Ignore the Sigma House.”

It was your first day of uni and you were following a student tour guide around campus. Your whole group were incoming freshmen, all of you bright eyed and unaware of what uni was really like. After the initial tour you wound up at the involvement fair, a place where all the clubs and sports gathered around to recruit new people. Of course this also included the fraternities and sororities. You were all allowed to go your own way as this was the end of the tour, but your tour guide did warn you to avoid the Sigma House.

“Those guys are just a bunch of animals.”

The warning did nothing to help as those same people overheard and came over to greet all the freshmen. They were super energetic and welcoming, going to show maybe the tour guide had a personal bias they were pushing on you.

“… ha… hi…”

You didn’t notice someone had approached you until you heard a nervous greeting, turning around to find a tall boy with glass giving you an awkward smile.

“Hello…”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Uh… so, I’m Wonwoo, and the Sigma house is-”

“I’m y/n, and I’m a girl, and Sigma is a fraternity, right? Which means boys only.”

“Right, right, sorry…”

“It’s okay. I’m sure you’ll find some great guys to recruit. I’m gonna check out the rest of the fair.”

“Yeah, yeah, have fun.”

“You too.”

As you said, you took a look at all the tables at the involvement fair, signing up for a few things to get freebies, and thinking of giving them a shot down the line. When you finished with all that you went off to your dorm, needing to unpack, and still get some boxes moved in. While moving around you ended up bumping into Wonwoo.

“Hello again.”

“Oh, hi, what are you doing here? Don’t you dorm in the frat house?”

“Yeah, yeah, we just like to help others, especially when it comes to moving into the dorm.”

“Ah…”

Without asking he took one of the boxes you had and gestured for you to lead the way. You weren’t going to deny some help, so he followed you as you got all your things to your dorm and the two of you started to get to know each other.

“What year are you?”

“Junior.”

“Oh wow, halfway there.”

“You can say that.”

“Do you like this place?”

“The professors are good, and there are plenty of resources to take advantage of. I think you’ll like it.”

“This was one of my top choices, but this will be my first time living alone. Well, not completely alone as I have a roommate but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. It’s something else, but I’m lucky to have my brothers looking out for me.”

“Brothers? Oh, you mean the frat house.”

“Yup. You know, we are having a party tonight to celebrate all the new people. It’s open to everyone. You should come by. It’s a great way to socialize and meet new people.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“If you come by-”

“Wonwoo!”

You were startled as someone shouted, seeing another boy come over and grab Wonwoo. He offered you a smile, but said nothing as he pulled Wonwoo away. 

“I’ll see you at the party!” Wonwoo yelled. “Bye now.”

“Bye.”

It was kinda weird that someone just showed up and dragged Wonwoo away, but you figured it was probably one of his frat brothers who needed him for something. Now that it was just you it was much easier to unpack and get your things all set up. While you were doing that you met your roommate, Misu. You helped her with her things and you both began to get acquainted with one another. You also used the time to mention any allergies or rules you kinda wanted to set down.

“So, I heard the Sigma house is throwing a party, you in?”

“I don’t know…”

“The rumor is they throw the best parties.”

You really weren’t one for parties, but in the end Misu ended up convincing you to go with. You had nothing else to do, so it wasn’t a bad thing in any way. You weren’t sure what to expect, but there were certainly a lot of people. The atmosphere was definitely vibrant and alive, everyone around seeming to be having a good time. Unlike yourself, Misu was a social butterfly, immediately engaging with people. You felt more awkward than anything else. It wasn’t long before Misu disappeared from sight and you were alone.

You thought to hang around for a while, going into the house and looking around. You didn’t see Wonwoo though, figured he was busy with others anyway. This was his party so he probably had things to do. After a while you dipped, preferring to take in the campus at night before returning to your dorm. Tomorrow was day one, and you wanted to be well rested. Going by the noises around you, that wouldn’t be the case for others. It would take some getting used to all this, the bed and atmosphere, but this was what you wanted. Eventually you’d get used to it all, but you had to take it one day at a time.

🖤

It wasn’t exactly easy to sleep that first night, but you were ready for the first day. There wasn’t much to expect though. As freshmen, and this being your first week, it was all mostly syllabus talk and class expectations. So you were just going from one to another, which was honestly kind of boring, and that’s how the whole week went.

“Y/n.”

After one of your classes you heard your name, surprised to find Wonwoo waving you over. He had been waiting for you.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Good. I missed you at the party.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was tied up.” Wonwoo explained. “How’s the first week going?”

“Oh you know, the usual, just going over class stuff. No real learning just yet, although I do need a partner for-”

“I’ll do it.”

You chuckled. “Wonwoo, you’re not in my class. I need a project partner.”

“Ah, right, right…”

It was kinda funny to see how Wonwoo got. He was probably shy around you, but still making an effort to talk to you. Although you had no idea how he found you. The campus was huge and you were going back and forth all day. Guess he got lucky.

“You know… we’re having another party at the end of the month.”

“Wow, guess you guys do party a lot.”

“No, not really, but this next one is to celebrate getting past the drop out deadline, meaning you are committing to your classes. Or at least intend to.”

“I see. Well, I’ll think about it.”

You started running into Wonwoo more often. He liked talking to you, and he also checked in with you, asking if you needed help with anything. He was very sweet, especially that time he brought you a smoothie. Besides keeping you company and making you feel less alone, he really did let you know about all the best places around campus. You knew where to go when you really needed to focus, and what the best drinks on campus were. To you he was like your unofficial mentor, making it easier for you to adjust to uni life. Of course you didn’t always have time for him, but he did his best to be around.

“Hey, y/n!”

You heard Wonwoo shout for you, finding him in the crowd and waving over to him. Before you could get to him you noticed someone else grab him and try to drag him off. You could see a little altercation going on, but couldn’t make anything out. In the end they dragged Wonwoo off and you were left a bit confused. You figured he had something important he had neglected. You didn’t think too much about it until you were approached by someone else.

“You’re y/n, right?”

“Uh… why?”

“Keep away from Wonwoo.”

“What? Who are you to-”

“You’re a distraction for him and he needs to focus on his studies.”

“I don’t understand. Doesn’t he balance-”

“He has responsibilities, and you’re just getting in his way. For both your sakes, I suggest you avoid him.”

“But-”

“We’re not gonna let some freshmen mess him up, got it?”

“I… I’m sorry… I didn’t know…”

“Just stay away from him.”

“Okay…”

You really couldn’t understand why things had gotten so serious, but you tried to make sense of it. After all, Wonwoo was part of a fraternity, those people tended to take the brotherhood seriously, and look out for one another. Not to mention they had all kinds of codes and rules among themselves. You didn’t see Wonwoo for a while after that incident, but soon enough you ran into him again. The first thing that came to mind was his tall friend cornering you and telling you to stay away. Despite seeing Wonwoo, and probably making eye contact, you ducked your head down and tried to get lost in the crowd. That didn’t work though as Wonwoo chased you down and grabbed your arm.

“Hey, I was calling you.”

“I have to get to my next class…”

“You have a free period right now.”

“Look, I don’t wanna cause trouble or be a burden to you, so can you please let go.”

“A burden? Who said that?”

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can take care of myself.”

Those words seemed to piss him off as his grip on your arm got tighter. You whimpered and asked him to let you go, but he did no such thing.

“Who told you all this?”

“Wonwoo-”

“Who? Did one of my brothers say something to you?”

“No one said-”

“Don’t lie to me. Who?”

“I don’t know… he was tall… and told me to stop being a distraction…”

“They are unbelievable.” Wonwoo hissed. “Come on.”

“Huh? Wait, Wonwoo, where are you taking me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead pulling you along. By now the crowd had basically disappeared, and no one cared to get involved with the scene. That is until a few other boys came by and pulled Wonwoo away. You expected there to be some arguing, but instead Wonwoo threw a punch. You stumbled back a few steps as the group of boys began to grab Wonwoo and basically try to restrain him. One told you to leave, but you were kinda frozen in place from the shock.

“I told you to leave!”

The guy shoved you with enough force to knock you down. It was so unexpected you ended up scrapping your hands, drawing a bit of blood. You whimpered, taking a look at your injury when you heard a growl. Your vision snapped over to see Wonwoo fighting against his friends, his eyes locked on you. For a moment you swear his eyes changed, but next thing you knew someone was in your field of vision and helping you up. They took hold of your arm and pulled you away from the scene. You tried to look back, still wondering what it was you had seen, but you couldn’t see Wonwoo clearly anymore.

The person who took you away from the scene brought you over to one of the gender neutral bathrooms on campus. Without saying anything he began to attend to your cuts, cleaning them up and getting the first aid kit to properly wrap them. They weren’t harsh, which you were grateful for, although they didn’t seem that friendly either. This wasn’t the guy who had come to see you before and told you to stay away from Wonwoo. Still, the silence was awkward and you had to at least thank him. It seemed like he was reading your mind as he spoke before you got the chance.

“I don’t need a thank you, but you were told to avoid him.”

“I… I tried… but he-”

“We know. We’ll keep a better eye on him.”

“Okay… can I at least know your name?”

“Jeonghan.”

“And all you guys are from Sigma, right?”

“Yes.”

“So-”

“Enough. Make sure to check on the wound so it doesn’t get infected.”

With that said Jeonghan left the restroom. You hung around for a moment, collecting your thoughts. It seemed they would keep their word as you didn’t see Wonwoo for weeks. You figured they finally got it through his head that it was a bad idea to hang around a freshman. It did suck as it felt like losing a friend, but you had also been using him as an excuse not to socialize. One friend was enough, or at least you told yourself, but it would be better to have friends your own age who are going through similar things as you.

You got into your own rhythm with school work and social activities. Before you knew it midterms had arrived. Of course your roommate had mentioned some parties, some hosted by Sigma, but you skipped out on them. The alcohol and loud music and possible drugs and one night stand objectives wasn’t really you. Besides, you’d be more likely to run into Wonwoo if you went out partying. You didn’t think you were missing anything. Most nights you’d head over to the library for some studying. It was always quiet once the sun went down, that is unless you walked by a party.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t even stop to look, just picking up the pace but you heard footsteps right behind you, and soon enough a hand grabbed your arm and turned you around.

“Don’t walk away from me.”

“Please leave me alone.”

“Look, I need to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“My brothers crossed the line with threats, and shouldn’t have involved themselves.”

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been gone for days now… I mean I don’t know your schedule or anything, but you’ve been okay, right?”

“Yeah… I’m fine.”

“Then we can part ways.”

“What?”

“You really helped me adjust to campus life, but your brothers are clearly worried about you, and I don’t want to get in the way of anything.”

“You’re not. I-”

“Your brothers don’t want us to socialize, and I’m gonna respect that.”

“Fuck them.”

“What?”

“They don’t know anything! I’m not just gonna leave you alone cause they said so. I want to get to know you and be your friend, your closest confidant, and they’re not-”

“Wonwoo, do you hear yourself? What is going on with you!? Cause you’re not the person I met.”

“I’m fine, we’re fine, so can we just move past this and-”

“No!” 

You tried to get yourself free from Wonwoo, but his grip was firm. As you struggled his hold only got tighter, and it started to hurt.

“Wonwoo… let go… you’re hurting me…”

“I’m not gonna let them get in between us again.”

“Wonwoo, what are you talking about? It’s my decision-”

“It’s not! They’ve said stupid shit and you believe them.”

“It doesn’t matter if I do, I don’t want to be around you.”

“You… you don’t mean that…”

“Wonwoo, please let go. Maybe we can talk later or-”

“No, there is no later. When they realize I snuck out and-”

“You snuck out? See, your brothers are worried about you.”

“They don’t care, they’re just getting in the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us. You’re coming with me.”

“Wonwoo, I’m not going anywhere with-”

“I’m not asking.”

Now you were panicking and really trying to free yourself, but Wonwoo wouldn’t budge. He began to drag you along with him, but you fought him. Although when you started screaming he pulled you close. You could barely register what was happening until he had your back pressed against his chest, and he was forcing your mouth open while he poured some liquid down your throat. You tried not to swallow, but you soon began to feel dizzy, your vision starting to go dark.

“… wonwoo…”

🖤

As you began to regain consciousness the first thing you felt was cold. You opened your eyes to darkness, and even once you adjusted to the light there wasn’t much to see. You apparead to be in some kind of concrete room, like a basement. You were sitting on a mattress and then you realized the chain around your ankle. Panic started to build up and you tried to get the restraint off, but it was no use. You couldn’t do much else but scream for help, hoping someone would hear you. The only way out was the door, but you soon realized you couldn’t get anywhere near it. You were about to scream again when you heard voices.

They were approaching fast, and it seemed to be some kind of commotion. You quickly backed up, tripping over the chain and collapsing onto the mattress. When the door opened you were momentarily blinded by the light. Although once you could see again the scene before you didn’t make much sense. A group of boys threw Wonwoo into the room, yelling at him to get his head on straight and calm down. In response Wonwoo growled back, making an attempt to escape, only to get thrown back in. You locked eyes with him, seeing them glow in a strange way which struck fear into you. That’s when everyone else became aware of your presence but it was far too late. 

Wonwoo scrambled over to you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling your neck. You went still, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Your eyes were wide with fear and the others had come into the room, all of them in disbelief as well. They tried to get Wonwoo to let you go, only for him to snap back at them and bite one of them. You saw blood spill on the floor, trying to cower away but then Wonwoo pulled you close again, this time getting behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He had your back pressed against his chest, nuzzling the crook of your neck once more as he breathed in your scent.

“Wonwoo, let her go!”

“How the fuck did she get in here?” One asked. “When?”

“Wonwoo!”

“She’s my mate.” Wonwoo growled. “She can’t leave!”

“He’s in a fucken rut right now, he’s not thinking straight.”

“I told you guys we shouldn’t have let him out!”

“Then what were we supposed to do with him?”

“Someone go get Seungcheol and Jeonghan.”

“What’s going on…” You mumbled. “I… I don’t…”

“Y/n, right? Everything’s going to be okay.”

One of the boys tried to get close, only for Wonwoo to growl and his hold over you to get tighter. You could feel something digging into your arms, looking down to see Wonwoo had claws and they were digging into your skin.

“Let go!” You cried. “Please, please, Wonwoo…”

“It’s okay.” He whined. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“You’re hurting me…”

“I’m sorry… I don’t mean to…”

“Please, just let go.”

“But then you’ll try to leave.”

“I won’t run away, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Wonwoo let out a whine, pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, then you felt the pain. You screamed as he dug his teeth into your flesh, feeling the blood run down your arm. The guys really started to panic then, yelling at Wonwoo to stop and desperately trying to get you away from him. One of them broke the chain that was around your ankle, and the managed to get you out of Wonwoo’s grasp. They pinned him to the ground, a handful of them using their own weight to keep him still. By then your vision had gotten blurry and you could barely stand on your own. You collapsed to the floor, the world spinning around you. Your breaths were heavy and labored as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do we do?”

“The fuck happened!?”

“Don’t yell at us, Seungcheol! Yell at Wonwoo!”

“You were also supposed to watch him.”

You could barely make out the gentleman in your field of view. He was trying to talk to you but his voice sounded so far away from you. His hand hovered over your bite mark, looking it over.

“Is the bite gonna take?”

“I’m not sure. Wonwoo, what the fuck!?”

Seungcheol and the others looked back at Wonwoo. He had stopped struggling but was merely watching everything. Once he realized all eyes were on him he smiled, showing his bloody teeth proudly.

“Mine.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 15

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far. ♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You sit down as you wait for your order to be called. The metal seat isn’t very comfortable, especially after hours in your office chair. You tuck your bag against the wall and stare out the window as Andy shrugs off his jacket.

He sits with the dark blue garment hung behind him, tugging at his tie but not loosening it. As you glance over, he flicks his fingers up to scratch the stubble along his neck. You rest your elbow on the table then drag it off. You don’t know what to do as the awkwardness of the situation settles in.

“So,” Andy breathes out as he claps his hands on his thighs. Is he nervous? No, why would he be nervous? You’re projecting. “Long weekend, you said?”

You smile, a click in your throat. “Um, yeah, I probably shouldn’t go into detail.”

“That bad?” He lifts a brow.

“Let’s just say next weekend, I’m going absolutely nowhere,” you sigh.

“Sounds like heaven. My wife, ex-wife, is coming back from vacation so she’ll be dropping off the kid,” he brings his hand up to the tabletop, rubbing his ring finger, as if searching for the missing gold, “not really a kid anymore. His teenage angst blows right in after him like a raincloud.”

“How old?” You wonder. You didn’t think Andy was that old, but you’re a bad judge of these things.

“Sixteen, for now. Can’t wait to leave for college next year. Honestly, I kind of feel the same,” he chuckles, “I probably sound like an ass when I say that.”

“I think you mean well,” you shrug, “you know, my dad wasn’t so nice about it.”

“No?” He furrows his brow.

“Uh, yeah, but let’s not get into all that. I’m starving and vulnerable,” you kid.

The bell rings and your number is called. Andy stops you from getting up and insists on grabbing the order himself. He comes back with a tray and doles out the tacos. You try not to be too eager and wait for him to fold one up first.

Your stomach growls in an echo of your mind. You’re thankful for the distraction of the meal, you’re not exactly a social maven. Further, he’s your boss and you’d hate to step on any lines, or over them.

You chow down on the grilled chicken chipotle. The spice is more than you expect and has you reaching for your Sprite. Andy hums in delight as you sip and glance out the window again. It’s dark out now. You’re going to be home late. Ugh, your whole routine is entirely lost.

“I was curious,” he begins between bites, “about this club you went to…”

“Uh, yeah, I dunno,” you say evasively, chewing your straw before stopping the anxious gesture. “It was my friend’s idea.”

“Ah, well, I’m trying to get back on the scene, you know? I tried a few dating apps and a bit too few man girls want to charge for just a chat…” he puts his hand up helplessly, “I’m out of touch, I think. In my day, you just met people face to face so I thought maybe, give it a try, but I don’t even know where to go.”

“Mmhmm,” you swallow, “well, I don’t think a club is really the place for that. It’s more so a hookup type place.”

“Hookup? Is that what happened?”

“Uh,” you shake your head, “maybe a book club? That might be somewhere to start.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t suggesting anything about you,” he backpedals, “I just… I don’t have much going on so I might be trying to fill that void vicariously.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” you wipe your fingers, “I don’t really date. Not seriously. Well, I mean, I haven’t been actively looking. With work and everything–” The door jingles as you ramble, “I barely have enough time for m–”

A figure steps up beside your table. His sole squeaks loudly and you look up, shocked to find Curtis glaring back at you. You’re struck dumb as you can only sit there.

“So this is it? You’re ignoring me for this guy?” He barks, “Bunny, you could’ve just told me you’re a slut–”

“Woah, woah,” Andy stands, “what’s going on? Let’s cool off–”

“No, fuck you!” He grabs Andy’s plate and throws the tacos in his face, “I know who the fuck you are. You got a habit of fucking your employees, Andrew?”

“Curtis,” you get up and grab his arm before he can grab your boss, “Curtis, we’re just having dinner–”

“I’ve been texting you,” Curtis snarls as he turns on you, “all day and I can’t get one reply. Don’t lie to me.”

He latches onto your arm and you cry out. You don’t understand why he’s doing this. Or how he even knew you were here. He’s crazy!

“Let go of her,” Andy slides his arm between you and Curtis, bringing his hand down against Curtis’ wrist, “calm down.”

“Calm down,” Curtis sneers as Andy inserts himself between you and rabid man, “mind your own fucking business.”

“You’re scaring her,” Andy puts his hand on Curtis’ chest and tries to ease him away, “so come on, cool off. Like she said, there’s nothing going on–”

Curtis keeps a hold of you as you’re pulled against Andy. You whimper as you're almost pinned against the table.

“Nothing going on?!” Andy jolts as Curtis lets you go, grabbing Andy’s collar instead, “she’s mine, you understand? You’re just some desperate old man–”

“Get your hands off of me,” Andy’s timbre drops dangerously, “before I make you.”

“Hey, hey,” an employee comes out from behind the counter, “no fighting. Get out now or we’ll call the police.”

Curtis huffs as you cower behind Andy. You can’t see him but you can feel his anger. Andy brushes against you as Curtis releases him. Your boss keeps you shielded behind him as Curtis lets out a snarl.

“Whatever, I was just about to fucking leave,” he stomps to the door as you hide, clinging mindlessly to Andy’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Andy apologises to the employee, “we weren’t trying to cause a scene. We’ll just clean up and go.”

The worker says nothing and disappears behind the counter. You see Curtis’ shadow stalk off outside the window. Andy turns to you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Um, I think…” you’re voice quavers, “I don’t know.”

[dc-marvel-life]

Perfect Fit

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x reader

Word Count: ~2.6K

Summary: Y/N is the new member joining the Avengers that came from a top-secret program in SHIELD that she was in all her life. Now that she has joined the team, she is experiencing life for the first time. She has caught the eye of the two most powerful women on the team.

A/N: I haven't had any requests, so I am posting a story that I am making on my AO3. This will be a series. My request is still open. 

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

We all know that there are infinite different universes that are different from one another. This one is the same as the rest. In this universe, the Avengers made the team ten years ago with a group of teenage superheroes. Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Thor, Scarlet Witch, Falcon, Winter Soldier, and Captain Marvel made the original team. Five years later, Spiderman, Black Panther, Yelena, and Kate join the group.

They all live on the Avenger compound, a vast building that houses the Avengers and their every need. Thanks to Tony, the facility is all high-tech and has F.R.I.D.A.Y. It has many bedrooms, bathrooms, a game room, a movie room, a weight room, a training room, a vast kitchen, a pool, a garden, etc.

The team is running smoothly, but SHEILD has a program that they want to test out. The program is called Project Gene X, and it is a program that had eight infants with the mutant gene. When the mutant gene was discovered, SHEILD ensured they were on top of it. They were able to find eight infants that they were able to keep in custody legally. All the kids did growing up was train and discover their powers. Over time, not all of the kids could stay in the program for different reasons, but there were only two in the end.

The two were fighting for the open spot in the Avengers, and Fury finally made a choice. The team knew they would get another teammate soon, but they didn’t know when.

Fury called a meeting with all the Avengers in the conference room at the Avengers compound. Now they are just waiting for Fury to show up.

“So does anyone know what this meeting is for,” Tony says, tapping a pen on the table while looking around the room.

“Maybe we are all going on a huge mission,” Bucky says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Ooo, I hope so because I haven’t been on any mission recently. I need to get out of this compound now,” Sam says, leaning back in the chair.

“Let's hope Fury doesn’t send us on a mission then, so we can all go out tonight. How does that sound?” Carol says.

“I like that idea! I’ll call a few clubs right now to get us on the VIP list,” Tony says, pulling out his phone, and everyone nods.

“I can’t wait to go clubbing!” Peter says excitedly.

“Not you, young fry,” Natasha says, and everyone laughs. At that moment, Fury walks into the room, and everyone goes silent. Everybody's attention goes to Fury, waiting to see what he called the meeting for. “I bet you all are wondering why I called this meeting. Well, I wanted to get you all together so you can meet your new teammate Agent Y/N Y/L/N” Fury says. Y/N comes into the room with black cargo pants held up with, a black utility belt with many pockets, and a black short sleeve shirt. She goes and stands next to Fury with her arms crossed behind her back.

“Agent Y/N was part of a secret project that has been going on for years in SHIELD. Now she has earned a spot on the team with you all. She has the mutant gene and will be a great addition to the team. I won’t give you guys a mission for the next few days, so you all can get to know one another. I hope you all welcome her with open arms,” Fury says, then walks out of the room.

Once Fury closes the door, all eyes are on Y/N. The room was silent, and Y/N didn’t know what was happening.

“So tell us about yourself, Y/N,” Steve says, breaking the awkward silence filling the room. Y/N stood there momentarily, not knowing what to say to them. Since she was a baby, she has been training with little to no social life. Her only friends were the people in the program, but once they left, they never stayed in connect. It was just the way of the program not to have many contacts outside. Y/N never developed her own personality, but she knew one thing.

“I am a homosexual!” Y/N blurt out after a minute of not responding to Steve’s question leaving everyone wondering. Then Y/N says that and shocks everyone. Some people tried to hold back their laughs because they thought it was a joke.

“I am sorry that I said that. Well, I am a homosexual, but you know what I mean. I didn't know how to respond when you asked that question. My whole life was about being in the program, so I don’t know too much about myself,” Y/N says with her arms still crossed behind her back.

“What is this program/project that Fury said that you were in? I have never seen you before or heard of a secret project,” Clint asked curiously about what SHEILD was hiding from everyone. Y/N was hesitant because she was told never to talk about the program unless it was with someone with an equal or greater level than her.

“Yes sir, the project was…..” Y/N started to talk, but Clint stopped her.

“Don’t call me sir. I feel so old when you say that, and I am pretty sure we are the same age,” Clint says while faking like he had a chill.

“No problem, Mr. Barton,” Y/N says.

“No, no, no, just call me Clint. You know all of our names, right?” Clint ask.

“Sorry, Clint, and yes, I know all of your names,” Y/N says, and she can feel her body tighten. Y/N’s mind is going a mile a minute because she worries she is messing everything up.

“Relax, sweetie, you are too tense and thinking too loud,” Wanda says in a calming voice. Y/N looks over at Wanda, nervous.

“You can hear my thoughts?” Y/N says in shock. Y/N knew that Wanda was powerful and could read minds but not like this.

“Yes, I can. I promise I don’t read minds for fun. I can only hear them without trying because you are overthinking right now. Take a deep breath in and out,” Wanda says with a smile. Y/N takes a few deep breaths in and out and finally calms down a bit. She eventually moves her arms from behind her back.

“I am sorry. I have been waiting for this moment for a long time and can’t believe it is happening. Now I am a nervous mess. Anyway, my project was called Project Gene X. I was taken in by SHEILD as an infant because of my mutant gene. Growing up, I was trained to be the best agent while using my powers. Our end goal was to be a part of the Avengers. It was down to one other person and me, and we had to fight for it. I won, and now I am here,” Y/N proudly says.

“Wait for a second! This is crossing way too many lines! So you are telling me that SHIELD pretty much had their red room! I need to talk to him now about this,” Natasha says, getting up from her chair. Wanda gets up and tries to calm down her girlfriend.

“No, Natasha, it wasn’t like that. Every year after we hit age five, we were often asked if we wanted to stay in the program. Most of the kids dropped out by age 14, and only the other person left in the program was me. It sounds like the red room, but it isn’t at all. I had a great time there and enjoyed myself very much,” Y/N says to everyone but most importantly, Natasha. You can see that Natasha is mad right now because her hands are balled up, and her face is as red as a tomato. She looks like she will fight someone, but Wanda is beside her to calm her down. It seems like they are having a conversation with their minds. After a bit, Natasha takes a deep breath and sits back at the table.

“Okay, it is not as bad as the red room, but it is still like it. I will talk with him about it later,” Natasha says.

“Yeah, Project Gene X doesn’t sound too well, but he did the same for us ten years ago, starting the Avengers. We were like, what 13-16-year-olds running around saving the world. What is done is done; let's move on and have a great time with our new team member,” Sam says, trying to lighten to mood.

“Yeah, I agree with Sam! That means we should all go out and have a party!” Tony says, pumping his fist because he wants to attend a club tonight.

“We are supposed to be bonding as a team, and we can’t go to the club because Peter is only 20 years old,” Carol points out to Tony. Tony quietly mimics Carol.

“Or we can have a party here and invite people to come, so no one is excluded. How does that sound?” Kate says.

“Not a bad idea. Now we need to throw the best house party ever! I will make some calls now,” Tony says, getting up and calling someone.

“So let’s get you to settle into here, Y/N. By the way, to formally introduce myself. I am Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, and I am 25. The rich boy over there on the phone is Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, who is 25,” Steve says, and everyone starts to introduce themselves with their real name, superhero name, and age.

“So Y/N, you say you were in the program because you have the mutant gene. What is your power?” Sam asks, and everyone's attention is back on Y/N, wondering what her power is.

“My power is absorption. So any material that I touch, I can turn my whole body into that. That is why I have this belt with different strong materials like vibranium, adamantium, diamond, chromium, and more,” Y/N says while removing her metals from her belt. She puts them all out on the table, then picks up the adamantium. She holds the adamantium in her palm and turns her whole body into adamantium.

Everyone is in awe of Y/N’s powers. She turns back into her usual self and puts her metals back into her belt.

“Now, that’s an extraordinary power that can come in handy. I am happy that you are on the team; now, let’s give you a tour of the facility,” Steve says; he stands up, leading the way to give the tour while everyone else shuffles out of the room except for Natasha and Wanda.

“Wait! Can Nat and I give the tour to Y/N?” Wanda asks. Natasha whispers something into Wanda’s ear to make her laugh. Y/N looks at the pair, confused about why they want to give the tour.

“Of course,” Steve smiles and looks to Y/N, “you will be in good hands. I will catch you later,” Steve says and leaves the room, leaving only Y/N, Natasha, and Wanda staring at each other.

“Are you ready for the tour?” Wanda asks.

“Yes, I am. Let me go and grab my bag” Y/N walk over to the door and picks up one small duffle bag.

“Is that all you have? You know you are moving in here for good, right?” Wanda questions Y/N.

“Yes, this is it. My whole life is in this bag, actually,” Y/N says, a little nervous because she didn’t know that she was supposed to have more than this.

“It’s okay, I understand. Being an agent means you must pack light,” Natasha says to comfort Y/N.

“Thanks, Natasha. Since I will be here for the long run, maybe I can do some shopping for stuff,” Y/N says, and Wanda squeals in excitement.

“Shopping trip!” Wanda says, jumping up and down.

“Dorogoy, maybe we should let Y/N get settled first, then talk about going on a shopping trip,” Natasha says to Wanda, then looks at Y/N, “also you can just call me Nat,” Nat says to Y/N with a soft expression.

“Okay, Nat, and I would love to go shopping. Never been on one before,” Y/N says, smiling at the pair.

“Alright, we will go shopping with you one day, but for now, let’s tour the place and show you to your room,” Nat says, and they take Y/N on a tour of the building showing all the bells and whistles. They end up in front of Y/N’s new room.

“And the last part of our tour is your room. This is great because right across here is our room,” Wanda says, pointing to the door right across.

“You guys share a room?” Y/N looks at them curiously.

“Yes, I would hope so. It would suck that I didn’t share a room with my girlfriend of what….. 7 years now,” Nat says, looking lovingly into Wanda’s eyes. Y/N smiles at the pair and looks at their hands to see two rings. Nat and Wanda notice it.

“They’re just promise rings that we gave each other when we were 18,” Wanda clarifies.

“That’s so sweet,” Y/N says with a bit of disappointment because she did have a crush on Wanda and Nat for the longest time after finding out about them years ago.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Wanda asks.

“No, I have never been in a relationship with anyone. I have done stuff with people, but those were mission-based, and nothing ever came out of it. The good thing is now I am free and single. Ready to get out there,” Y/N says and starts to laugh, with Wanda and Nat joining her.

“Sorry, that sounded lame saying it out loud,” Y/N says and continues to laugh. Y/N opens her room door and gasps.

“Wow, this room is so big, and I have a queen bed,” Y/N says, running into the room, dropping her bags, then jumps onto her bed.

“And the bed is so soft. I am going to love this place,” Y/N says, getting comfortable in bed while Nat and Wanda watch in awe.

“She is so cute,” Wanda says, and Nat agrees with her.

“So why did you guys want to show me around the place? I am just curious” Y/N sits up in bed, looking at the pair.

“If you want us to be honest here, we wanted to show you around to get to know you and become friends. We are always together, and we need more friends that are women. Yes, we have Kate, Yelena, and Carol, but it is not the same. Yelena is Nat's younger sister, and they get on each other nervous all the time, but it is out of love. Plus, we think Yelena and Kate are secretly dating and not telling anyone. Carol likes to hang out with Sam and Bucky to do dumb shit with. So we saw you and thought we could have a new friend to do stuff with,” Wanda says moving side to side like she is nervous about something.

“Well, I will be an honor to be your friend,” Y/N said, smiling at them and making Nat and Wanda melt.

“Gosh, you are so cute. I think I can say that we are happy to have become friends for the two of us. We will let you get settled here before the party tonight. If you need us, we are across the hallway,” Wanda says and starts to walk out of the room, with Nat closing the door to leave Y/N in her thoughts.

“This is going to be the best time of my life,” Y/N says, sighing and lying in bed.

[delulu-sushi]

Could I request a general Toman x fem reader? Maybe a comfort? Reader isn't apart of Toman but she's really good friends with Emma so she's naturally friends with all of them. (like reader doesn't fight). She's really sweet and friendly, a little bit socially awkward and shy though. But if reader is being yelled at or if she hears people yelling she'll get really quiet and stiff and compliant to try to avoid the conflict escalating because she lives in a house where her parents are constantly yelling at each other?

(Also maybe include Readers hands are constantly shaky?)

A/N: Ofc!! Mitsuya x reader except they’re not in a relationship… yet 

~~~~~~~~~Enjoy!~~~~~~~~~~

The rain was pouring down, throwing daggers on your cold hair. Yet, at the moment, that was the least of your worries. For years your family had been breaking apart, bit by bit, and you wondered why your parents just couldn't make up.

Were they trying to torture you?

Countless nights trying to sleep in bed, covering your ears with your pillow in an attempt to sink out the screams of their fights, but to no avail. Your pillow becoming damp by your soft sobs, and your eyes turning puffy, all you ever wanted was to escape.

The only time you could escape was with your friends.

~~~~~

Emma Sano, your confident and drop-dead gorgeous bestie was always walking by your side. She would catch you walking to school and link her arms right in yours, her non-stop chatter breaking your smile with occasional giggles. "You know, you look really cute when you laugh", you remember how your cheeks flushed red at her words, but her innocent (ironically) stare told you she meant it. She was taking you to a new club, telling me that I would enjoy it, and when you inquired the name, she kept it a surprise.

"Ah!~ We're here" Emma exchanged a smile with you as she pushed you into a close-to-empty classroom. The sun filled the room with spots of light, and you noticed one ray landing on him

"Emma!" You whispered under your breath, realizing her plan, "heh! Have fun!!"

You stood paralyzed in your position, staring awkwardly at Takashi Mitsuya, holding your fingers to prevent them from shaking. Your eyes held their position. His back was slightly turned away from you, giving you a view of his side profile, his sharp eyes, tipped nose, perfect lips

"Eh?" A harsh voice brings you back to reality as a big figure approaches you, making you take a few steps back.

"Peh-yan, Pah-Chin, why don't you be welcoming with our guest!" Mitsuya walks forward in a soothing yet commanding tone, instantly making you loose your tense shoulders, feeling as if a huge weight was lifted off. "Ah~" Mitsuya takes a look at you, as your face turns tomato-red, "Your Y/N-chan right? Mikey and Emma's friend?" His smile offers a sanctuary of heaven, yet you start fumbling.

Fidgeting with your hands, you manage to let out a "Ah, Yes." to which Mitsuya only brightens a smile and beckons you to follow him to the other two boys, who you recognize as friends of Mikey's.

"Mikey talks about you a lot" Mitsuya starts in an attempt to break the silence, "Ah Well, not romantically" he blushes slightly, right around his nose, "I just uh see you around Emma a lot"

"Oh um yea, I know Mikey" you say in a soft and shy voice, and attempting to talk more, "I know Mikey, Draken, and Baji" you say again. Gosh you wish you could slap yourself in the face and be as confident and talkative as you are with your friends.

Mitsuya smiles at your blushing, as your friendship begins.

As the months went by, your life started entering Tomans. Though you weren't part of the gang, constant exposure to Emma, Mikey, and Hina made you feel a part of it, spiritually. The boys would always tell you what happened, showcasing their fight moves and often getting into quarrels with each other.

What really made you feel a part was the way they cared for you.

You remember how Draken carried to the doctor when you sprained your leg, or when Mikey cheered you up after you burned your favorite food. When the Kawaka twins' quarrels lifted your mood, and how Peh and Pah were so stupid yet confident. You liked Baji's rashfulness and Chifuyu's adoration. You related to Kazutora's home life and his awkwardness. But the person who cared most was Mitsuya. His lavender hair  paradoxing the cherry blossoms yet still making him look so grand, his charming smile and caring personality making you fall head over heels.

~~~~~

You stood there in the rain, the bustling sound of Shibuya making your head run. You're going crazy

Drip, Drip, Drip

The raindrops piercing your head voic

The voices of people forcing you to cover your ears, tears strolling down your cheeks as you try to erase the loud voices of your parents shouting. Wishing the rain would drain it out

but

it

doesn't.

Your legs stop.

You don't know where you are.

You dont know what to do.

“Y/N?” A hand on ur shoulder makes the rain stop, u turn around to face the owner of the calming voice, who’s holding up an umbrella to shade u away from the tears

But it doesn’t. U try to turn ur face to him, but a glimpse of mitsuya’s lavender hair leaves u bawling, as he pulls u close. His hand right on your shoulder and his cheek bending down to your hair.

He walks you to a shade, and takes your shaking hands in his. “Y/N, what happened?” His voice is overtaken by concern. All he wants to do is hold you close in his arms, and comfort you forever. He wants to be by your side forever, and make sure you never have to feel scared. He wishes he could make your parents understand just how much they affect you.

He wants to take you far away with him where you’re safe.

He firms his grip on your hands and pulls them up to his face. His plump, soft lips embrace your knuckles when he plants a small kiss on them, moving his forehead on yours and placing his jacket on you.

“Y/N” he whispers close, his voice shaking and soft, “Y/N I love you.”

You want to tell him you love him too.

You want to hug him tight and find solace and comfort in his arms, his voice

But your paralyzed

“You’re safe with me. Your safe here”

Mitsuya continues, never letting go of u

“We all care about you, you parents may be fighting but don’t be scared” mitsuya lifts up your face and looks deep in your eyes, and tender small smile forming on his face

“We’ll always come for you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy!!! If u want a specific character don’t hesitate lol, I chose mitsuya cus he’s a caring bby and there’s always ppl out there like him who care a lot!