#you know how a lot of people will get absolutely wasted on a certain drink and then they can never drink it again

[curiouslavellan]

“Justice doesn’t let me drink” as a moral statement: lame

“Justice doesn’t let me drink” as in they have a crazy fast abomination metabolism so alcohol doesn’t affect them: better

“Justice doesn’t let me drink” as in Justice just thinks alcohol is yucky: best

[sports-on-sundays]

lucky strike / CL16

Summary: Charles x American!female!reader - F1 comes to Sin City and you unexpectedly run into a certain someone.

Warnings: gambling, alcohol, cussing, use of pet names (A LOT), flirting, one moment of implied jealousy

Requested?: Sort of! Thank you to everyone who voted for Charles in the poll!

Author's Note: Charles won out in the poll, so here you go, everybody! (Of course I HAD to use The Charles Vegas Podium Picture). Also, I listened to Lucky Strike by Maroon 5 while writing.

one in a million ; my lucky strike

Well, you thought the whole F1 thing was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't care an ounce less about Formula 1, so you certainly weren't happy about all the complications of it coming to your city.

You would call yourself an all American girl, and you're proud of it. If any racing, NASCAR. Football is the sport with the brown ball you throw- NFL, not the white and black ball you kick. That's soccer. You have the greatest food, the greatest mix of cultures, the greatest weather. If you didn't know better, you'd say you have the greatest country, too.

You watched a Formula 1 race when you realized the whole Las Vegas Grand Prix thing was actual, and when you saw that (firstly) it was honestly pretty boring, and (secondly) the only American driver is basically the most sucky one, you decided it would be pretty hard to get into it.

You're a Vegas girl, and you're proud of it. You're actually from Los Angeles, California, but you moved to Vegas to chase your dreams and live the life you dreamed of a year ago with your boyfriend, and it was so worth it.

Now you identify yourself with Vegas even more than you do with the Los Angeles Rams, despite the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you seven months ago and left to go be a prodigal son in New York City.

You decided Vegas was perfect enough for your clever hand, and you'd continue to be a prodigal daughter right where you're at.

But now the Grand Prix is the newest thing, and you don't like it at all. All these people flooding in, like as if there's not already enough people. Just to watch some cars drive around in circles, closing up main roads? No, you're not into it.

Your girl friends all seem to think this is just the best thing, and you discuss it across the table with two of them. One says, "Honestly, the McLaren duo are the hottest."

"No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?" your other friend disagrees.

You snort in disbelief and say sarcastically, "How about neither? So you guys only care about this because the racers are hot? Give me a break."

"Well," one of your friends starts, crossing her arms across her chest, "They are hot. At first, I wasn't so sure, but, I mean, come on! Maybe we could get glimpses of them when they're in Vegas!"

"Or meet them!" your other friend pipes in.

You scoff. "Good luck with that. Aren't these guys self-focused millionaires with too much money for their own good? Probably all greedy idiots who hook up with every half-sexy girl who comes along. So if you're into that, sure, waste your time trying to meet some hot plutocrats, with the one percent chance you might get f*cked like crazy for a night before they forget about you and move back to their mansions across the world! F*ck, is race car driving even a real sport? It's f*cking driving cars. I could do that!"

Your friends don't really argue with you, because you're right. And clearly, they do only care about the hot racers, because you figure any real fan of the sport would argue with you.

Two days before the Strip is supposed to be closed up for the Grand Prix, you find yourself submerged in the vibrant energy of Wynn Las Vegas, the dazzling lights and sounds of the casino floor swirling around you. The scent of alcohol lingers in the air, a reminder of the drinks you've indulged in throughout the night.

You slip between two people to reach the roulette wheel, holding your newly bought chips, with money you've earned earlier in the night.

Bets are placed around the table over and over, as you earn more and more chips. You feel someone nudge your shoulder, and a cocky male voice comments next to you, "You're having a good night, huh?"

"Every night is a good night," you remark back, not even glancing up at the man talking with you. He seems to have some sort of accent that you can't place. Perhaps French?

Which means he's probably from Louisiana. Possibly Quebec.

Probably some rich idiot F1 fan who can afford to travel half way across the country for the Grand Prix.

You don't plan to even give him the light of day.

"Until it's not," he says as you watch the roulette wheel spin once more.

You smirk and feel his eyes on you as you collect more chips.

The game goes on, and you think he's gotten the message that you don't care to converse with him, because does shut up.

But now it's the last bet of the game. You take a sip from your glass and feel a stupid, risky streak in you.

Some idiot part of you that's drunk and wants to push her luck way too far.

You place a straight-up bet, all your chips on the number sixteen.

You can feel eyes on you, and the same man next to you from earlier says, "Are you stupid?"

You chuckle. "Possibly."

"You're going to lose all your-"

"No, I won't." You straighten your back, staring at the wheel. It's true, you've earned a lot of money throughout this game.

And honest, it is true that you're stupid.

But it's also true that for some reason, you're confident.

"So you're overconfident and risky? I like that," comments the guy next to you. "But you're going to lose all your money. All that good luck for nothing..."

"You'll see," you breathe, ignoring his little flirt. "It's going to land on sixteen."

"Sixteen, huh?" This man's hazel eyes sparkle, and something in you tells you that you've seen this guy's brown locks, bright dimples, and perfect stubble before.

You've seen him somewhere. Recently. Like some guy you could haven't been drunk with, but the memory is fuzzy.

But you weren't drunk with him.

Despite being sure you've seen this guy before, you're also sure you've never met him before, either.

"Yeah," you nod, looking away, staring as the roulette wheel begins spinning. "It's my lucky number."

You're not looking at him, but you can feel him grin next to you. "Your lucky number, huh? Just so happens, it's mine, too."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Is that some lame attempt of a flirt?"

"No. It really is my lucky number." By his tone, you can tell that grin has downgraded to a smirk. "But if you'd like to see a lame attempt of a flirt, that's an option, too..." His voice lowers as you feel his arm snake around you, and his hand land on your waist.

You gently shove it off as the wheel begins to slow. You hold your breath, watching, this stupid French boy no longer even a fraction of your concerns. All focus is on your slight potential lucky strike.

And then the world stops as the wheel stops, too.

On sixteen.

And then it all comes flooding back. "Oh my God!" you squeal stupidly, covering your mouth as there's rounds of, "You've got to be kidding me," "No way," "It's impossible!" and "How lucky is this girl?"

You feel surges of shock and pride as you collect all your money. Once you've received it, after such luck, and earning a fortune, you decide you're going to have a drink. Or more than just one.

But when you turn, there's that guy again.

"What's up?" you ask, the grin on your face impossible to wipe off.

"How did you know it was going to stop on sixteen?" he questions, and he looks a little more handsome than he did before as this time he succeeds in taking your waist.

"Are you trying to pick my pocket?" you question warily, though, shoving his hand away.

"Not at all," he chuckles, "But you're a smart girl, aren't you? And I think I might be a lucky boy. Come on- I'll buy you a drink."

You snort. "No way, pretty boy! I can buy my own drink, after what just happened! How cocky are you?"

"Call me cocky, or call me rich, but either way, you're too sexy to have to pay for your own drink."

You scoff at this, but figure that you can't really let down an offer of free stuff. You'll be the first to admit you're greedy. Once of the biggest reasons why you gamble is because you want money- duh- and as much of it as you can get.

So soon, you're sitting at a table with this random guy, looking into his eyes, holding your drink in your hand. After barely a moment of hesitation, your curiosity finally gets to you, and you ask, "Who are you, anyway? I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere recently."

He gets a smug look on his face, which you don't like, before he says, "You really don't know?"

Your nose crinkles up in confusion, and for a second you feel ultra worried. Is this someone that I've met, that I should remember? Am I a terrible person for not knowing who this is...?

But then he says simply, "My first name is Charles. Charles Leclerc."

You stare at the taller individual, knowing you've heard that name, trying desperately to wrack your brain of it.

And then, suddenly, it hits you.

Loudly, in your head, in your friend's voice, in the exact tone she said it, 'No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?'

"Wait-!" you say in shock. You can see the satisfaction on the man's face, Charles, as you realize. "So, you're one of those F1 racers? Like, you race for the Ferrari team?"

He snorts and nods. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away. Do you live here in Vegas?"

"Yeah," you say simply, taking a sip of your drink.

"So I take it you hate Formula 1, then? Because how else are you living in Vegas right now and don't know my name, or recognize my face?"

"You sound awfully prideful."

Suddenly, he smirks, and drags his finger across your jawline, pulling your face to look up at him in the process. "Maybe so. But clearly you're not so much better yourself, Miss Bet It All On Sixteen."

You cock an eyebrow at him and return his smirk with a challenging grin. "Sure, but I was right. I won what I wanted."

"Hmm... Well, what if I'm about to win what I want?"

"Oh, yeah? And what is it that you want?"

He leans in closer, so you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he utters simply, "You, baby."

You smirk. "We just met, buddy. I'm not that stupid."

"I think you're just playing hard to get."

"Or maybe it's just hard for you to get me," you counter.

"Well, I like your spunk. And your good luck. I think I might need a little bit more of that." He leans away a bit, and comments, "And I think I foresee a little bit more of luck in your future."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he smirks, leaning in closer. In barely any second, his lips meet yours, and though you know you should, there's no way you're pulling away now. He wraps his arm around you, urging you to lean into the kiss. You melt, letting him.

You don't know what it is.

But in this moment, you gently let your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip in between your lips, allowing yourself to, yes, make out with basically a stranger.

It wouldn't be the first time, but it also isn't something you do for fun whenever you feel.

When you finally force yourself to pull away, the first thing you breathe is, "How did you do that?"

He grins, and is clearly red in the face. But there's a look of shock on his face, too. As if his flirty cover was just confidence, and not because he gets tons of girls like this...?

Or maybe you're just reading too much into his expression.

Either way, he responds with, stroking your cheek, "No idea. Maybe I just have a way with you?"

You roll your eyes as you check your purse. No, he didn't pickpocket. He meant to kiss you. You stand up and say simply, "Well, I better get going n-"

"Sorry, what?" he suddenly snatches your arm back, pulling you back down to sit again with a surprised chuckle. "You just met a famous millionaire race car driver who bought you a drink after you won big money in roulette, let him make out with you, loved it, and now you're just going to casually walk off?"

You grin. "What? Do you think I was impressed by you? Think again, honey. Just because you drive cars fast and make ridiculous amounts of stupid money for it, and that you're insanely handsome- none of that means I'm any more impressed with you than I am with any other guys I meet on my night outs."

"Hm," he raises an eyebrow, and says, "What if you could get more from me, missy? Clearly, you're out for yourself and will do anything for a good deal. And you're f*cking sexy about it, too. So what if I had something else to offer you?"

You let yourself sit down at this, looking at him expectantly.

He smirks, clearly loving that he's 'won you over,' before saying simply, "Would like a free pass to the whole weekend, and a pass for the paddock?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, and your eyes widen. "I- what?"

His smirk grows even bigger. "You heard me."

You inhale sharply, but cross your arms across your chest and come out sharply saying, "Unfortunately for you, I couldn't care less about Formula 1. In fact, I'm starting to dislike it a lot. But thanks for the offer."

His jaw drops, and his eyes practically pops out of his head, which gets a chuckle from you. For a moment, he's actually speechless, before he finally gets out, "Are you aware of the offer you just refused?"

You raise an eyebrow, not able to keep the cheeky grin off your face. "Probably not, but that's okay. Why, anyways, would you give a stranger such an opportunity in the first place? You probably have ulterior motives, and I think I can pretty much guess what they are, mister. You don't even know my name yet."

"Oh, God, you're right," he laughs, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what's your name, princess?"

You roll your eyes, and tell him.

He grins. "It's been wonderful meeting you." He digs in the pocket of his light blue jeans, and pulls out a pen and a restaurant receipt. "I know you think you'll be able to forget me so easily, princess," he starts, scribbling something on the receipt, "but trust me- you'll be wanting this." He takes your hand and presses the receipt into it, before standing up just like that, and saying with a wave as he turns to walk off, "I'll talk to you later, angel."

You look down at the receipt to see a phone number scribbled on it in chicken scratch. But the numbers are clear. And though you walk out that night rolling your eyes at this Charles's boldness and cockiness, with an abundance of money you've earned that's a lot more worth the stupid grease-stained receipt, the moment you get back to your apartment, the first thing you intend to is putting that stupid number into your phone.

"This is stupid," you comment as you slide into the backseat, next to Charles.

He just rolls his eyes. "You won't be saying that by the end of this experience. Besides, you were the one who decided to text me, like I said you would. You were just playing hard to get."

You scoff. "Oh, shut up."

"You look lovely, by the way," he comments in a lower voice. "I like that skirt." You look down at yourself. You're wearing a matching crop top shirt and short skirt, your sunglasses holding your hair back away from your face, and brown sandals.

"Thanks," you snort, crossing your arms and looking out the window, turning your gaze away from the Monégasque driver. (Yes, you did, despite yourself, look him up last night, just to know who the heck this guy even is.)

(You also were sure to look up his salary.)

(Ridiculous.)

(But also intriguing.)

Soon enough, before you know it, you're walking alongside him, about to enter the 'paddock.'

Makes it sound like a bunch of horses racing.

But when you're there, surrounded by it, in the moment, you don't think rude comments like that.

You stop, taking in the high life atmosphere. The revving car noises, the lights of The Strip on the 'racetrack,' the crowds, the music, the richness, and the challenge.

Your breathing falters, and your heart beat quickens as your hand involuntarily finds Charles's wrist and grips it as you gasp, "It's... extraordinary."

You glance to Charles's face to see him softly grinning. His hand slips down to hold yours as he comments, "You seemed like the type of girl to love it."

Your smile widens. "I've been here so many times. On The Strip. But... it's not the same. How did they do it?"

He begins walking, pulling you along by your hand as you look around. "That's just Formula 1 for you. There's nothing in the world quite like it, Y/n."

He leads you by the hand toward the Ferrari garage. Once you're there, he says, "Want to meet my teammate, Carlos?"

"Don't know who Carlos is, but sure..." you say vaguely, taking in the large piece of machinery- the Formula 1 car- in front of you.

He chuckles. "You're f*cking adorable," he murmurs, before leading you away to see Carlos.

He's a well-built man with fluffy dark hair, tan skin, big brown cow eyes, and stubble. Pretty much looks like exactly how you'd imagine a Formula 1 driver to look.

He nods respectfully. "Hey, Charles," he says, and shakes your hand with a friendly wink. "This your new girlfriend?"

You look up to see Charles smirk. "Not yet."

One of Carlos's thick, dark eyebrows cocks up, and the suggestion of an amused smirk travels on his lips for a second. "Ah, I see."

"Charles!" you snap, your eyebrows scrunches together. "Not ever."

"Well, we'll see about that. So far, I've been the right one, now, princess, haven't I?"

"Pfft. I was right about sixteen, wasn't I?"

He rolls his eyes as Carlos says with a chuckle, "Well, it will sure be interesting to see how this plays out," before moving on with his life.

Charles takes the time to show you around, and halfway through the tour, you blurt suddenly, "So, this is all the Italian team and stuff. Isn't there an American team?"

"Hmmm," Charles snorts as his eyebrows travel farther up and he fights off a seemingly somewhat mocking smirk. "There is."

"Why don't you show me them? Don't they have an American driver? Like, Carlos is Italian, right? Isn't it protocol or somethin'? Anyway, isn't it called Williams, the American team, or something? Some guy named Logan something that's an American racer on there-"

At this, Charles can't seem to hold it together anymore, and doubles over laughing, essentially, at you.

"What?!" you demand indignantly.

"You really are clueless!"

"I-"

"Alright, alright, Y/n. Haas is the American team. They don't have an American driver- German and Danish. No, Carlos is not Italian; he's from Spain. Williams is British, and yes, Logan Sargeant races for Williams, and he is American. About the only thing you got right."

You roll your eyes with a shrug. "I told you I don't give a damn about this stupid sport."

"Whatever you say, Miss Starry Eyes."

So, first Charles takes you to Haas, where you learn, surprisingly, that not all the racers are young hotshots like Charles and Carlos at least seem to be. They're friendly enough there, but really don't care much to give you any of their time, so then Charles suggests to go to the Williams garage and see if there's Logan to bother. You agree to that, so soon, you're entering Williams.

As soon as you see Logan, you know he's the American. You can see it in his stance. You can see it in his golden blond slightly sweeped hair, gray blue eyes, and strong jawline. "That's Logan, isn't it?"

"How'd you know?"

You shrug, breaking off from Charles to Logan. "Hey! You're the only American 'round here?!" you ask with a friendly grin.

"Huh?" he asks, looking up, in the most United States of America way. "Oh, hi," he says in what you perceive as dumbly, with a friendly smile. Ah, that's more like it. None of these posh Monacan boys and hot Spanish men- this guy is just like home sweet home!

You can practically hear the eagles cawing over the Rocky Mountains!

"You're Logan Sargeant?"

He nods. "I am. And you are...?"

"Just some Vegas girl dragged here by Charles."

"Ah... so you know him?"

"Well, now, unfortunately, yes."

His eyebrows furrow, but he chuckles at the same time. Though this guy isn't nearly as handsome or charming as Charles, there's something about him you like a bit more-

Suddenly, a hand is on your waist, and hot breath says in your ear, "Got to be getting back to Ferrari now. Come on with me?"

You blush and nod. "Right, Charles."

You have no idea what to think of him.

"Podium?! Uh- is a podium good?!" you ask, eyes wide as Charles brings it home in second.

"Yeah, yeah, it's good!" some guy you don't know wearing red near you says.

"Oh- Alright, well- That's good, I suppose!" you respond a little manically.

As soon as Charles as the chance, he finds you. He still has champagne on his race suit and his face is glistening with sweat, and there's no way you can deny it- he's sexy. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around you, and his stunning eyes seem to burn into you. He can't fight the grin off his face as he says lowly, "Get why my lucky number is sixteen, baby girl?"

"Ah, stop with that," you snap, your voice cracking. You don't know, but this seems- all this seems-

Way too important.

You reach up to touch the number sixteen on his hat, before taking it off his head and slipping it on your own, backwards, on impulse.

He grins. "You can keep it. Not like you'll need a keepsake. You won't forget me."

You bite your lip, giving a quick nod, still studying his handsome face. Your eyes linger on his light pink lips, which arch into a perfect cupid's bow, as you murmur absently, "You seem pretty confident about that, huh?"

"Of course I do. Looks like you might be my little good luck charm, hm? Can't be letting you run away from me, can I?"

"Hm. Well, we'll see about that."

"Still playing hard to get?"

"Not playing. I just am hard to get."

"Whatever you say, darling," he comments with a shrug, walking off.

The French accent is pretty sexy.

Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see are the big earnest eyes of Charles Leclerc, staring back into your eyes. "Morning sunsh-"

Your immediate reaction is to scream and promptly slap him across his pretty face.

He grunts as his hand flies to his cheek to cover it up, and he says, "Hey, hey, calm down!"

But your eyes scan the room. It's clearly a hotel room. There's only one bed: the one you and Charles are laying in right at this moment. You're wearing a large black T-shirt and big blue gym shorts very tightly tied to fit your waist. Charles is dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans with a white T-shirt underneath, his regular jewelry, and white sneakers. So clearly, he's already showered and gotten dressed. He smells like his rich cologne, and his hair is all washed and fluffy and clean. If you weren't in a slight panic right now, you'd have wondered if you could touch his hair and feel how soft it is.

But!

As you're about to gasp out questions, Charles sits up and gently sets his hand on top of yours. You become aware of the pounding in your head as you bite your lip nervously. Charles looks at you earnestly, and says calmly, "Hey, you don't have to worry. It's okay."

"What happened?" you exhale.

"Nothing," he soothes. "We went out. You got more drunk than any of us though you should. I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my hotel room. Gave you clothes to change into, and we went to sleep. Nothing more."

You swallow an anxious lump in your throat. "How do I know I can trust you? Please, just be honest with me. I won't be mad. You didn't know any bet-"

"I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Okay?" he leans in closer, and reaches to cup your cheeks in his hands. "'Kay? Can you just trust me?"

You bite your lip, but slowly nod. "I suppose that's the only thing I can do."

Over six months later, you stand on the boat, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea, smelling the salty breeze in the air, feeling content, wearing a loose button down, light blue jean shorts with a brown belt, your slew of bracelets, white sneakers, and a headband holding back your hair.

Suddenly, Charles is up next to you. "Hey, princess." For months, you've had what you stubbornly call a 'situationship,' whilst Charles calls you his girlfriend.

Because you love Vegas more than you love Charles (or at least that's what you like to say), you refused to leave when Charles did. You like taking risks. Just not the 'travelling halfway across the world for a hot guy' kind of risks.

But you stayed in touch. Charles made sure of that.

Well, he meant it when he said he'd make sure you'll never forget him.

But then Formula 1 came back to the States, to Miami, and you knew you'd have to make the trip. The flirty comments and romantic tension thick enough to cut ensued as soon as you and Charles set eyes upon each other, like as if it hadn't been six months or so since you'd last seen each other last.

It just felt like-

Somehow fate is involved.

Well, when Charles invited you to the Monaco Grand Prix, that was an offer you felt you couldn't let down.

And, boy, was that the best descision of your life.

To see Charles win his home race like that, and to be there? Just thinking about it now gives you goosebumps. Charles had wrapped his arms around you after the race, his eyes a little damp, and you felt something more.

Like he really cared.

If you didn't know better, you'd say it was like he really loved.

Loved you.

But, no. Of course not. That can't be.

Can it?

Well, all night you partied. You were in on the fun. You also made sure to pay a visit to the Monte Carlo casino, as you obviously must.

You had amazing luck, once again.

On this thought, as you feel Charles approaching from behind you, you comment into the wind, "You know, I'm starting to think you're my lucky charm, honey."

He chuckles, coming up next to you. "Oh, yeah? That's what I said six months ago when I first met you, you know. I've been starting to think the same thing about you."

You snort. "Maybe so, Monaco race winner."

He smirks, and you can feel the pure joy radiating off him. He slips his hand into yours as he murmurs, "I was so lucky to meet you."

I smirk. "I am pretty awesome."

He rolls his eyes, but squeezes your hand. "So, do you like it here in Monaco?"

You nod vigorously. "Gosh, Charles, it's amazing."

"Better than Vegas?"

"Well- I don't know if anything is better than Vegas..."

He leans in closer and speaks lower. "Well, would Monaco be better if your good luck charm just so happens to reside here?"

"Hm..." you smirk, flushing a bit. "I'd have to think about that, prince."

"Yeah," he nod, his tone softer. "Why don't you."

There's some silence, as you watch the sun begin to set, reflecting off the sparkling water.

Charles leans even closer to you, his hands gliding around your waist, pulling you towards him. He leans down, gazing deeply into your eyes. Then that stupid flirty grin appears on his face again. "F*cking gorgeous you are, one in a million. I struck lucky with you. My lucky strike."

He closes the distance between you, his soft lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, igniting a spark between you as your tongues dance together in a sensual embrace. Connected.

Maybe it's not fate.

But it is most certainly luck.

And in this moment, with the lips of the winner of Monaco sucking on yours, you feel like the one who struck it lucky.

[luwritesomething]

Chad Meeks-Martin x Reader: if it’s meant to be...

Warnings: Swearing (probably), alcohol, frat party, scream vi, there’s a female roommate of reader involved.

Tags: halloween party, cowboy!chad, cowboy!reader (reader is dressed as a cowboy/girl/enbie), love at first sight, flirting.

Reader pronouns: Non stated (reader is dressed as a cowboy/girl/enbie).

Word count: 1033

Summary: Reader is at the halloween party, and Chad sees them (and instantly falls in love).

Author’s note: CHAAAAAD <3 there’s not enough appreciation for this man, or maybe there is but i haven’t seen a lot. also chad cowboy brain rot. also this is spoiler free if we ignore the cowboy!chad and halloween party setting :)

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The music was loud, the house stank like alcohol and sweat and your head was buzzing a little bit as you made your way through the immovable people standing on your way to the kitchen. You had lost sight of your roommate since the moment you two had come in through the door. College parties, especially frat parties, were painted way more glamorous than what they really were, but it wasn't like you were having a bad time.

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol in the whole night, a good decision considering how overwhelmed you were now, but you also weren’t paying attention. Your absolute lack of interest was the reason why you didn’t notice the way you instantly caught the eye of a certain cowboy while you were on your way to the kitchen. With a smile to his friend, Chad left Ethan on his own once he had come to the conclusion that he needed to talk to you and find out who you were.

He spotted you instantly once he came into the kitchen — it wasn’t too difficult, considering that by now the people were too wasted to drag their asses into the kitchen for more alcohol. Apart from you, sitting in the counter with an empty but cold can of coke against your forehead, two sheepish frat guys were there as well, laying on the floor and blabbering about things Chad couldn’t care less about. When your beautiful eyes landed on him, he felt his heartbeat quicken, like a middle school boy.

“Hey.” Chad said, smiling brightly, and to play it cool he started making himself a drink with the half empty vodka bottles in the center table.

You eyed him up and down, a little smile slipping into your lips. “Howdy, stranger.” You finally said, tilting your head while grabbing your own cowboy hat. It was a simple and basic costume, but it was cute and certainly made you look good. 

Chad’s smile grew wider. “Cool costume.”

A little chuckle came out of your mouth, making you look down as you started dandling your feet, with your hands kept safe under your thighs, the can long forgotten by your side. You didn’t give an answer, but the silence — stained by the noise and music outside — was comfortable enough for Chad to keep going. 

“You want a drink?” He asked, his hand already holding his cup, and lightly gesturing towards the vodka.

“So soon?” You teased, more because you weren’t about to let him be the only charming one than because of you not liking him — you did. He was cute, and looked really nice and even funny. “You don’t even know my favorite color.”

His smile was so genuine, so nice. “Do I need to know it to get you a drink?”

“Or at least my zodiac sign.” You said while tilting your head, so the hat wouldn’t cover your view of him.Then, you added rather gloomy, “What if I were a scorpio?”

“I like scorpios.” Chad answered quickly, then took a sip of his drink. His face started to hurt from smiling.

“What if I weren’t a scorpio?” 

Chad couldn’t help but chuckle at your speed. “I’d like that too.”

You laughed with him, genuinely enjoying that flirting with him. He really did seem like a sweet guy, so after joining your hands on your lap, you said, “Great. Then you can get me a drink.”

“So soon?” He said, eyebrows lifting as he mimicked you. You bursted out laughing, the sweetest sound he had ever heard. “You don’t even know my name.”

You tilted your head again, to the other side, and held back the little smile blossoming on your lips. “You look like you have a cool name.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, like Rex or Max. Something like that.”

Chad raised an eyebrow. “Those are dog names.”

“Then what’s your name?” You asked with a little laugh.

“Chad.”

“Chad.” You repeated softly, and he found himself adoring the way you said it — God, was he down bad, and with no explanation other than your charm. You smiled. “It first you.”

He came a little bit closer to you, leaning against the counter but letting you space to breathe, move, be comfortable. You appreciated that. “You’re not telling me yours?”

Before you could even answer, your name was called out from the hallways, prompting you to jump down from the counter and take a few steps to the door. You eased up when you saw your roommate walking your way with a dumb, loving smile in her face that gave away her intoxicated state instantly. 

When she came in, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and hugged you loosely, and Chad feared you were already taken — had he misinterpreted your kindness for flirting? He hoped not.

Your friend looked up and her eyes widened slightly when he saw Chad there, shirtless, and looking at you two rather cautiously. “Oh.” She said with a sweet smile, waving her hand slightly. “Hi.”

Before Chad could do more than smile at her, you squeezed the hand around your shoulders. “You’re drunk. We’re going home, uhm?”

“Alright.” Your roommate muttered rather hesitantly, but still smiling.

Still keeping her arm around your shoulders, you turned to Chad with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. You’ll buy me that drink another time, Chad. I have to take my friend here home.”

“Of course.” Chad smiled, because you were promising to see him again. You also weren’t a couple. “Do you need someone to walk you guys?”

“Oh, it’s alright.” You assured, your smile growing wider because of his sweetness. “We don’t live far. See ya.”

“Wait, wait!” Chad moved closer to you as soon as you started moving towards the door, making you raise an eyebrow. “Give me your number?”  He tried that flirty smile on.

You chuckled slightly. “If it’s meant to be we’ll meet again, don’t ya think?”

Rushing your friend out of the kitchen, you two disappeared in the crowd of people and Chad stood there, dumbfounded, hand around his drink and with the silliest smile on his face. He really fucking hope it was meant to be.

[wonyui]

ENEMIES TO WHAT? | K.CW

PAIRINGS Kim!Chaewon x F!Reader

SUMMARY You knew the exact buttons to push when it came to getting on Chaewon's nerves. Funny enough, it seems all her attention is now on you after catching her ex in the same party the both of you were in. Just how far is she willing to go in order to piss her ex off?

GENRE WLW, one-shot, enemies to lovers, fluffish(?), romance ig, jealousy, mentions of name calling and swearing, LOTS OF SWEARING beware

"You're staring again." Your best friend Yunjin sighed in disapproval.

You've been staring at Chaewon for what seemed like an eternity. Although the two of you knew each that well to start an argument without no second thoughts, it wasn't that good enough to start a normal conversation.

Groaning and feeling like a total poser, Yunjin softly patted you on the back. "Dude, just go up to her."

It was generous of Yunjin to try and give you the courage you needed, but that wasn't exactly the reason why you couldn't try. "And what? be a total asshole by insulting her for god knows how many times I try to control it?" You took a sip of Yunjin's filled cup of alcohol, "Ugh, what's with this disgusting alcohol mix?'

Taking back her drink, Yunjin glared. "Excuse me. It might not taste the best, but it surely gets me wasted."

'Of course," you plainly thought, knowing exactly who to watch out for the whole night. "Don't drink too much it's gonna be a pain to drag your ass into the car."

"Haha, very funny. My alcohol tolerance is stronger than what I go through when I have to tolerate you." She basically slurred, sounding so out of it.

Rolling your eyes, you excused yourself to find the certain someone who would entertain you whenever you'd get on her nerves. A few steps was all it took before a pair of hands could pull you out of the crowd. "What the fuck?" You hissed, hands hurting from the strong grip that the person had on you.

"Good to see you too," Chaewon scoffed. "Anyway, listen. I need a favor."

Your eyes widened after realizing who it was. Looking down and seeing that she still had her hands on yours, you tugged it away so that damn asshole in your chest wouldn't beat too loud.

"What do you want." Chaewon ignored your recent action, finding herself to blame it on the fact that you were nothing but a weirdo. An attractive weirdo at that.

Looking back at what seemed to be another random yet pretty girl, Chaewon looked back at you and muttered out a few curse words before opening her mouth to speak. "Okay fuck look," you silently waited for her to carry on, "that's my douchebag of an ex girlfriend. She thinks I'm still into her, and I need someone to prove I'm not."

"And you want me to be that someone?" You crossed your arms, looking unimpressed, but the butterflies that built up were telling a different tale.

The same age latter nodded.

"And what do I get out of this?" She didn't look at all surprised, already figured out that you would have asked for something in return because you were an absolute jerk who insulted people for a living.

It was truly an art to see the way she frowned out of annoyance, controlling herself in order to not punch you. The way her teeth clenched made her look somewhat cute yet scary. "Jesus, you greedy fuck. What do you want?"

"I'll think about it." it was obviously a smart decision to save the best for the last. "What's your plan, by the way?"

She blinked, realizing that she didn't have a plan for this to go through and work so decently. "Sorry, what."

"Your plan..?"

"I don't have one."

"Seriously?"

"Can't you just flirt your ass through like you've been doing ever since high-school?"

It was totally uncalled for. True, but totally uncalled for. You laughed, finding her insults even more amusing and funny. "Nothing is funny, she's looking."

Judging from the way that her ex had been drilling daggers into your poor soul, it was kinda working. Taking some part of Chaewon's hair and twirling it with a flirty smile, it made it look natural as if the two of you weren't exactly new to this thing.

"What are you doing?" Chaewon looked red at the moment, slapping your hands when her ex looked away for a few seconds.

She was a stone. Hard stone, to be exact. Just how did she expect for you to flirt? Say some cringy pick-up lines that would have looked silly to her ex because the music was booming louder than everyone else's voices?

"I'm flirting," you mentally facepalmed. "Would you rather I say some useless pickup lines that would have looked as though we were having a normal conversation?"

"Yes." She immediately responded.

She was honestly inexperienced and clueless to the whole thing of making someone jealous. It was both frustrating but a sight to see, just how bad was she at this? Taking another shot of alcohol that someone left on the table, you mustered even more courage. "It wouldn't work that way. You do realize that actions speak louder than words right?"

Chaewon stared at you in distaste, knowing that you were correct in many ways. "God I seriously can't stand this."

It may have sounded too sudden, but once her ex put her focus on the both of you once again, thinking she might have been slick. You smirked and took the opportunity to pull Chaewon closer to you. Chaewon's ex gritted her teeth in annoyance, finding you to be annoying despite not knowing you that well.

"Look at that," you proudly whispered. "She's jealous."

It took a few seconds to realize that Chaewon was still too close to you. You pulled her away to see if she felt uncomfortable, seems like it was the other way.

"Gross. Are you blushing?" Chaewon smacked you on the shoulders for your attempt in teasing her, cursing you. Something about you being annoying and talkative.

Not denying nor saying yes to your sarcastic question, Chaewon looked over at her ex. Doing a double take in case her ex looked invested in what the two of you were doing. You weren't sober but sober enough to see that she was trying to look for any signs. "Double take on your ex, seriously? at this point, look at her for a whole minute." A bitter smile appeared on her face, feeling unbothered until you commented. "No shame in anything. I say she deserves to have whatever comes at her for cheating on me."

Laughing, your throat a little too dry from the unhelpful liquid that you consumed earlier. You couldn't help but find the thought of Chaewon getting cheated on a bit too funny and questionable. Fumbled, really.

"What? Something funny?" She looked offended, balling her fist due to the annoyance that filled up.

You shook your head, feeling quite honest. "Nothing, just amusing that she'd ever think of cheating on you, really."

Chaewon jerked her head, looking elsewhere but you. You couldn't but but notice that this was by far the most normal conversation the two of you could have ever had without the need to choke one another. Cursing? She's getting there.

"I find it insulting how you can state such thing when all you do is annoy me." You shook your head, wanting to prove her wrong. "Yeah, but I never said anything about hating the process of dating you, did I?"

That question had a good amount of effect on Chaewon, making her wonder if it was the alcohol talking or not. She put her hands in her own pockets, forgetting that the two of you were literally in a party filled with sweaty, drunk, and lovesick people all around you.

"She's gone." You stated, about to leave when Chaewon stopped you.

"Wait," She bit the inside of her mouth, feeling embarrassed for feeling this way. "I haven't repaid you yet idiot."

You wanted to tell her, but it was too risky. She didn't know how much of a chokehold she had on you, and you liked to simply put it that way. Chaewon's gaze stayed on you, trying to see if you had been thinking or spacing out like you'd normally do. About to say something, a cold liquid got on your white top. You cursed to yourself, annoyed by whoever made such a horrible mistake only to find Chaewon's ex looking at you with a cocky smirk.

"What the fuck is your problem?" You were in disbelief, the alcohol sticking onto your clothing.

The glint of mischief in her eyes made you wanna punch the 21 iq out of her, but since it seemed like a huge scene, everyone had been staring, waiting for your next move. Luckily, Chaewon took notice of this when she saw your balled up fist, taking your hand and rushing the two of you out of the building. Still angry from the previous 'accident', you ran your hands through your hair and scoffed. "Your ex is a fucking asshole."

"Tell me something I don't know," Chaewon rolled her eyes, trying to be slick by checking you out in the corner of her eyes. "But luckily I brought extra clothing."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. "Extra clothing? seriously?"

"What? You don't know the icky people that could either puke or.. spill their alcohol on you." Her serious tone turning into a teasing one at the end of her sentence.

You laughed, finding her humor and jokes a bit too funny for your own liking. In just one night, the two of you were already hitting it off well. Chaewon took out her purse(that she had been carrying this whole time) and brought out a white t-shirt. "Here, not sure if this'll fit since your frame seems to be a little bigger than mine," you nodded, taking it anyway. "This is my thank you for taking the alcohol from my shitty ex." Scoffing at her horrible attempted joke, Chaewon smiled in a slick and subtle way.

Since there was no one and the walls were covering most of the spot, you took your top off, making Chaewon panic before she could close her eyes and turn away. Replacing the old clothing with the white t-shirt, you thanked the fact that you still managed to look good.

"Thank you." You mumbled, feeling embarrassed to even say it loud and clear.

Chaewon nodded, acting as if it wasn't a big deal. "So, what about me repaying you for helping me?"

"Can I take you out sometime?" You got straight to the point, this time being unable to blame it on the alcohol because you were fully sober.

"Do you want me to go home and laugh at how much of a silly idea that is?" Chaewon laughed, annoyance not evident in her tone this time. "Shouldn't it be me taking you out since I'm the one repaying you?"

You slowly nodded, cheeks pink tinted. Entering the building to join your friend as Chaewon followed behind, you turned to see what other thing she wanted. "Why are you following me.." Chaewon raised her brows. "My friend is actually there." "Don't lie, what friend?" "Don't make me take back what I said."

Before you could retaliate, a drunk Yunjin wrapped her arms around you and mumbled words that were nearly deafening. "Y/N.. where were you? I wanna go home."

"This drunk asshole.." Chaewon scratched her head in annoyance, pulling Yunjin off of you and into her very own arms. "I'll help her into the car."

You blankly stared at her, a little scared as to why she knew you both came by car. "I'm not insane. Everyone would have noticed such old jeep don't look at me like that."

Accepting her insult along with the truth, you helped her with supporting Yunjin to the car. Although the two of you struggled, Chaewon got tired and threw the younger latter, clearly not caring about whether she'd break a bone or two. "Wow, just romantic, yeah. Throw my friend into her own jeep."

"She's drunk, passed out even. I'm sure she won't notice."

"Okay, fair."

"Mhm anyway, 6 pm. I mean, don't be late, I'll send you the details since I snuck my phone number into your pocket."

You stared in confusion before the realization could hit you, snapping your fingers together, Chaewon couldn't help but mentally judge you.

"What about you?" You got into the driver's seat, looking outside of the car window in order to talk more better to Chaewon.

Chaewon titled her head and pointed at herself. "What about me?"

Too embarrassed to even ask, you made sure to pinch yourself in order to gather the needed courage. "I could give you a lift home."

"Thanks, but," Chaewon softly smiled and pointed at the building that the two of you used to be in. "I wasn't lying when I said I had a friend who also needs my help to drive home safely."

"Then why'd you help me? go help your friend holy." You basically scolded, sending chills down her spine from the sudden change of attitude.

Before she could leave so you wouldn't complain further, she looked back at you. "Oh, and Y/N?"

You looked back, loving the way the moon complimented her features. It looked as though you were spotting an angel. Giving her time to think about her reply, Chaewon opened her mouth once again to finish her sentence. "I had a reason of helping you get here, and it wasn't because of Yunjin," you stayed quiet, knowing exactly what she meant. "I'll go now. Have fun driving that idiot home. Bye, loser."

[curioscurio]

The Fellowship based on their alcohol preferences:

Frodo: a wine man no question. him and bilbo are constantly being annoying about the delicate aftertones and nutty aromas of wine and whatnot. They really do have excellent taste though, and Gandalf's go-to Yuletide gift is a bottle of Hobbit Wine. Despite how he looks, Frodo isn't a lightweight, and will happily drink whatevers on tap if the wine isn't to his liking.

Sam: He's a fan of a stout ale and local brews. Most wine is too dry and sweet for him, though he'll have a glass if Frodo asks him to try it because he wants Sam's valued opinion. Also not a lightweight and handles his alcohol better than Frodo. Unfortunately has a habit of drinking whatever someone hands him as the night goes on and Merry and Pippin love to see how drunk they can get him.

Merry: Loves fruity and refreshing cocktails. Likes to get fancy with it. Probably would LOVE an espresso martini. Drinks that high quality Brandybuck distilled spirits and has spent a LOT of time researching fancy drinks and how to make them. Probably bartends occasionally and likes to show off. Alcohol Nerd. Get him drunk enough and he'll start infodumping about the difference between Shire-grown Old Toby and the stuff that grows all over Gondor.

Pippin: GARBAGE TASTE. he has college student alcohol preferences. like the guy is a Took so he can hold his liquor well but often overdoes it. vodka and fruity soda white girl wasted bull shit. He sometimes just mixes random shit with alcohol and calls it a day which infuriates Merry to no end. Someone once saw him mix together unsteeped tea, tomato juice, 4 warm olives from his pocket, and bud light. Calls it Pippin's Surprise as the olives get substituted with whatever he has in his pockets at the moment (that's what makes it a surprise). He has a tendency to get cut off and then steals other people's drinks when they're not looking. He is the one who wanderers off.

Gandalf: The man loves Hobbit Wine. Also mostly a wine guy. It's not that he can't drink, he just has a wizards constitution (lightweight) and doesn't like to get drunk often. He gets pleasantly tipsy on special occasions, though. He also has exquisite taste in fancy liquor even if he doesn't like them. Merry has for sure talked his ear off about different types of alcohol and the drinks they can make; and even though Gandalf pretends to be annoyed by it, he's always listening intently.

Aragorn: Old Fashioned. Whiskey on the rocks. Also really loves a high quality nigori sake. He travels a lot so he has a diverse pallete but forgets the names of certain drinks and spirits so he goes for what he can remember. Only let's himself get proper drunk at celebrations or occasionally by himself when he's brooding. He likes to loiter in bar corners as we know, but he's a really good listener if you give him a chance.

Legolas: In Mirkwood, Legolas has some chronic alcoholic tendencies. Being a prince is stressful and hard, and when you have access to the finest of alcohol you damn well drink it. He's used to fancy and complicated cocktails, (which he and Merry bond over) and thinks beer is piss. Shotguns beer for attention though FOR SURE but then he'll go and raid your parents expensive whiskey cabinet or something. His dad was the kind of guy to let him drink wine with dinner when he was young. Absolutely will drink you under the table. Forgets you at the bar for a one night stand.

Gimli: He enjoys the occasional sweet port wine, bourbon whiskey, Dwarven Spirits, and ale. Needless to say, Dwarven Moonshine will end you, though Gimli dislikes the taste (except for root beer flavor). He won't back down from a drinking challenge, as we know, but isn't always very good at them. He didn't like the "frou-frou" cocktails that Legolas drinks for a long time until Merry and Legolas introduced him to a Moscow Mule. A joy to drink with tbh he's the life of the party alongside Merry and Pippin.

Boromir: Doesn't drink because he dislikes the way it makes him feel. Will sip a Coors light at the bar or share a toast with his men. If he does drink, he drinks to forget. Usually the DD. Alcohol sparks his temper easily, so he avoids the flames as much as possible. He has a great time going out with the Fellowship though, and is basically the Mom friend. He makes all the Hobbits drink water and makes sure Aragorn has some food in him, and that Legolas has all his clothes on, and that Gimli is still breathing. Occasionally he has to go find Gandalf, who is in the basement, cleaning 5 bitter Rhorrim out of their entire stock of imported Hobbit pipeweed from a game of cards.

[literaticat]

Publishing aunty please help. Need advice, not publishing related.

What do you do when you're just tired, feeling unfulfilled and want to run away from everything? :( 

That sounds like a classic case of Burnout to me, though it could be combined with something else -- like Depression, or even a medical problem.

(For example, at one point a couple years ago, I was absolutely exhausted for no discernable reason and burst into tears at the drop of a hat -- I chalked it up to "winter blues" and ignored it -- come to find out, eventually, I had severe anemia and my body was not absorbing iron at all and actually it was an autoimmune disorder and became a Whole Thing! Uh... oops!)

This article from the Cleveland Clinic gives a lot of advice about what to do about Burnout -- but the most salient points, I think:

Be gentle with yourself. Everyone goes through it sometimes. You aren't a failure, you're going to be OK, you just have to take care of yourself before you can properly take care of anyone or anything else. So with that resolved:

TELL YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM HOW YOU ARE FEELING. Keeping this stuff undercover is not going to help. Being honest with your friends/family/partner or whoever your "people" are will lighten your mental load AND they will want to help and support you.

Figure out what your stressors are and tactics to deal with them. Part of this will be linked to the previous part, probably -- For example, if you are burdened by too much work -- DELEGATE or ASK FOR HELP! You've told your support system what's up with you -- now tell them what you need to move forward.

Set Boundaries. If you're the type of person that says yes to everything and then you feel overwhelmed -- remember that it's OK to say NO. It's a good thing, actually. You'll be more "on" for the things that are actually important if you are able to protect your own boundaries and aren't wasting energy on bullshit things. I can't stress enough how important this is (and it's something I am always working on, because it can be tough!) -- but my life CHANGED when I made certain rules for myself and stuck with them. For example, mine: No checking email after 7pm or on weekends. At all. I gotta tell you, my life suddenly got a lot better. (I have forgotten this one recently, and my life has gotten markedly worse -- so I gotta get back to that!)

Go to the doctor. Yes, going to the doctor sucks! But they can make sure your bloodwork is OK, you aren't Vitamin D or Iron deficient, rule out any problems (like, I dunno, severe anemia)... etc etc. Like, step one of Self Care is knowing what your Self is working with. (And if you think you might actually be capital-D Depressed or have anxiety, etc -- ask for a referral to a psychiatrist to see about getting some medicine. IT WORKS!)

Practice Self-Care. Yes, that means the boring stuff like "hydrate" and "make you are getting enough sleep" and "eat your veggies" and "meditate" and whatnot -- but also, you want to "run away from everything"? DO IT. Take a vacation -- or even a staycation -- or even a DAYcation -- where you are literally not doing ANYTHING for anyone else, no email, no nothing. Get a pedicure with extra massage, sit in sunlight with your favorite drink, read a book or just think about NOTHING -- you have no responsibilities except to yourself during this time. It's rejuvenating!

Get toxic feelings out of your system. Find a therapist, if you can afford to do so. (There may be free or inexpensive options if you are a student, or with some insurance, some therapists have a sliding scale for patients, etc) A therapist can give you at least somebody to talk things out with who doesn't know you and isn't judging you. If that's not for you -- journal? Do something artistic? Go to a rage room? Climb a mountain and scream a lot?

Now you are on the road to being healthy, physically and mentally, you hopefully have less stress and are getting your forty winks and all that good stuff -- and hopefully you'll be MUCH better soon.

Good luck!

[ladylooch]

hi girlyyy ❤️

weve seen jealous timo over em .... but what happens when mr hischier gets jealous bc lex is looking extremely gorgeous and getting a lot of male attention 😘😫

It takes a lot for Nico Hischier to turn any shade of green in regards to his wife.

Not because she isn’t stunning, she absolutely is. But mostly because she looks at him like that.

Her bedroom eyes are out tonight, calling to him from across the room at a charity function hosted by the Devils. She’s with the other WAGS, including Emma. The theme is red and black tonight. Nico has a red tie on with his black suit to match Lexi’s long, red dress. He smiles as she lifts a subtle corner of her mouth at their eyes meeting again. 

How much longer do they need to be here?

Timo Meier sighs next to Nico, having similar thoughts.

“I’m about over this.”

“It’s for the kids.” Nico jokes, taking a sip of his water. 

“But your sister looks like that.” Timo’s jaw is practically on the floor as Emma laughs across the room. A low groan comes from the left wing. “Fuck me.” He mutters. Lexi grips Emma’s forearm, laughing with her too. Nico smiles wide. Yeah, fuck him too with his wife looking like that.

The rest of the night drags. Nico is pulled into all several different directions. This is standard for any event he is at. Every time he tries to make his way towards Lexi, someone else demands his attention. He is starting to feel the same resentment she has mentioned over his lack of attention on her. Although the last few times Nico has glanced at his wife, she seemed well occupied with someone else. No longer with his sister or the Devils WAGS, Lexi Hischier is laughing with another man at the bar.

“Nico?” Tom Fitzgerald calls him back to the circle of people he is in.

“I’m sorry, what?” Nico asks, looking intently at the face of his General Manager. Tom repeats his question, but even as Nico answers, his mind is back across the room with his wife.

He didn’t like how close that guy was to her.

Or the way she laughed so loudly at what he said.

And definitely not the way the unknown man signaled to the bartender that Lexi needed another cocktail. Nico has seen her have at least three. At drink four, she becomes a buzzed, happy problem. Conversation continues on around Nico, allowing his gaze to rest back on the curve of his wife’s ass across the room. Every time tonight, Lexi has felt his eyes on her and looked, but not with this man next to her. 

What gives?

“Excuse me.” Nico mutters, stepping away from the group.

As he crosses the room, others call out to him. He continues forward until a high-profile Devils Foundation donor steps in front of him with his teenage daughter. The 13 year old looks like she might pass out at the sight of the Devils captain so close. Nico gives a polite smile, knowing he can’t get out of this one. While he scribbles out an autograph and takes a picture, Lexi moves with the man from the bar to the silent auction area filled with baskets put together by each Devils player for donors to bid on. Lexi points to the basket they created. The man nods, pointing at certain things, clearly complementing Lexi’s taste as she blushes and giddily grips his forearm to brush off his praise. As she does this, Nico watches her breasts strain against the fabric of her dress and the man’s eyes dip, just for a moment.

And he decides that is about enough of that.

“It was great to meet you. Let marketing know when you’re at the next game and we can do a locker room tour.” He says as he steps back in pursuit of his wife again. This seems to appease the two donors, so Nico can sneak away. He can’t help but stalk his feet along the expensive tile of the ballroom. 

“Lex.” Nico murmurs, wrapping a hand around her opposite hip. He pulls her snug into him.

“Baby!!!!” Lexi squeaks back. Oh yeah, she is wasted. “Meet my friend, Cory!”

Yeah, I’m sure he is a great friend tonight.

“Captain Hischier.” The man extends his hand in greeting.

“Nico is fine.” Nico replies, griping the mans hand hard.

“Your wife was just showing me the basket she created.”

“She has great taste.” Nico smiles, venom slightly seeping in to the grin. He helped too. There is Swiss chocolate and expensive espresso beans in there that he selected.

“He is going to bid on it. It’s already at $5,000!” Lexi chirps happily. Nico takes in Cory for a moment, seeing the very expensive designer brands he is obviously dripping in. This dude wants to hit on his wife so openly and take peeks at her tits? Fine. He can pay for the experience.

“Really? Maybe he can double the current bid if he likes it so much.” The man’s eyes go wide. 

“Oh!” Lexi squeaks.

“For the kids, ya know?” Nico shrugs, smirking.

“Oof. I don’t know if my wife would be too happy about that.” Nico internally rolls his eyes. What a creep. 

“Maybe you could donate your watch then?” Nico suggests innocently, noting the very expensive Rolex. “I think they are taking other types of donations at the front table.”

“Ah. You know what cash sounds better.” Cory chuckles, then picks up the pen to write down his donation. Nico watches the bid move to $15,000. That seems like a fair trade off. 

“Oh wow.” Lexi sputters, grabbing Nico’s back excitedly. “Thank you so much!” 

“Hey man, that’s awesome. Thanks so much for your support.” Nico shakes Cory’s hand again. 

“Anything for the kids.” Their look is tense. He knows Nico got him.

Nico watches his retreating back for a moment, then pulls his wife into his body. He savors the weight of her against him, her breast squishing into his chest. He opens his mouth to speak to her, but Lexi’s mouth is already on his. Her kiss takes his breath away. He forgets where they are and moves his hands from her hips to her ass. He groans, lost in her, until the noise of the room brings him back. He gently eases back from her.

“So how did I do?” Lexi is sultry as she asks.

“Hmm?” Nico is still a little too stunned from her lips to speak coherently.

“My flirting to get a higher bid. How did I do?”

“Baby!” Nico laughs. “You doing this on purpose?”

“Yeah. I wanna win. Emma said she thought hers was going to go higher. And I kinda just wanna knock your sister off the lil high horse she was riding this morning.”

“I love when you get competitive.” He chuckles, puckering his lips for her again. “Your tits in this dress are something to be admired.” His eyes dip, rolling across her plumped cleavage.

“I know. Thanks, LuLu.” She chuckles, speaking of their daughter who is still breastfeeding.

“I can bottle feed her when we get home. You can keep having fun.”

“Hmm?” Lexi asks around her straw. Nico points to the drink. “Oh, this is soda water.”

Nico’s respect and admiration for his wife grows with her answer. She’s completely sober. 

His wife has completely played him like a fiddle tonight.

[sophierequests]

a deal is a deal // set it up part one

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Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: I have no words or reason for this fic. I watched the movie 'Set It Up' recently, and I just knew that I had to write a fic inspired by it. I didn't intend on indulging in it this much, but this fic will definitely be a two-partner since I have written almost 10K words and I can't possibly post that monstrosity in good conscience. I absolutely love the concept of matchmaking and fake dating, so consider this fic one huge clusterfuck of tropes I enjoy. And I hope all of you can enjoy it too <3

You can find part two here!

Summary: Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.0K

Warnings: Cursing, feelings, Kaz being a little bitch, pining, mention of his touch aversion

“Unless you saw someone cheat at Three Man Bramble, I don’t appreciate you spying on paying customers.” You were close to falling off your barstool when Kaz’s voice materialised beside you all of a sudden.

“For Saints’ sake, Kaz!” you hissed at the darkly-clad man leaning against the bar to your left, a certain look of amusement accentuating his features as he saw the way you panickedly held onto the counter. He shook his head at how easily startled you were. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I was dangerously close to knocking you out.”

He raised his brows, throwing a telling glance at his cane, and then back at you. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly his speciality. At least not during the main business hours of the Crow Club. He preferred to make his presence known.

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop prying?” Kaz repeated nervelessly when your eyes returned to the card’s table you had been staring at for about half an hour now. Not that he would know how long you had been sitting here. It’s not like he had been watching you during said half an hour. He had other - a lot more significant - tasks to tend to, rather than wasting his time by letting himself get distracted by you.

“Shush,” you silenced him quickly, craning your head slightly towards him to get a better view of your stalking victims. “I’m not spying on paying customers. I’m spying on Jesper and Wylan. That’s as far away from paying customers as it can get.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Jesper went right to the gambling tables after we came back from the job earlier, and he has stayed there ever since. I assume you can guess who has been standing right next to him for just as long? Our little merchling is so in love, it’s painful to watch,” you whispered excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Kaz was not one to necessarily care for dull relationship gossip.

“I should stop giving you this much time off if this is how you choose to spend it,” he grumbled, subtly following your gaze to watch the terribly awkward scene between the two Crows. Not because he genuinely cared about their immature ways of expressing their emotions, of course.

“Don’t be such a grump, Brekker,” you snorted, giving him a playful eye roll. “Admit it, they’d make such a cute couple! They could probably even compete with Nina and Matthias - don’t tell her I said that.”

“Judging by the fact that Zenik and Helvar were blood-sworn enemies before they fell into their…situationship, that won’t be such a difficult task.”

“See! You think they’d be a great fit too! What a shame one is just as oblivious as the other,” you sighed, twirling around the few remaining ice cubes that floated around in your drink.

“And you think staring them down will help ease their obliviousness?” Your head turned to face him fully, a mischievous glimmer present in your eyes. A glimmer he really didn’t like.

“Help me,” you blurted out.

“Help you with what?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh, uhm, I have no concise plan yet since I thought you’d just immediately say no to me asking you for help. What I know is that I can’t watch them tiptoe around their feelings any longer. I need to do something. And you are precisely the right person to help me with that.”

“What exactly makes me the ‘right person’ to help you with getting these two idiots together?”

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaz answered determinedly, choosing to not indulge in your childish games any longer. “As long as it’s not affecting their job performance, their relationship is none of my concern. I have more important things to do than worry about their problems with intimacy.”

“Come on, Kaz. Please?” you pouted as the man in question already shifted to head back to his office again.

“No, Y/N. They’ll be fine without our interference,” he tactfully ignored your overly dramatic plea.

“Alright, alright,” you mumbled, watching him leave with a hint of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’ll regret it eventually.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Jesper, you’ll need to- Jesper? Jesper, focus,” Kaz ordered, having to pry the sharpshooter’s eyes away from the window for what felt like the hundredth time today. He, Inej and the lovesick Zemeni boy had been working on the details of a minor upcoming job for over two hours, seemingly not making any noticeable progress. It was safe to say that this issue was instantly accredited to Jesper, whose mind appeared to be somewhere completely else.

Even though Kaz didn’t want to admit it, he did regret not taking you up on your offer of trying to get the two together. It had become more and more evident that they were too blind to see that their feelings were mutual, and Kaz was starting to get sick of it. Why couldn’t they just act on their feelings and spare everyone around them the pain of having to watch them act like insecure little kids? What did they have to lose? It was ridiculous, really.

Kaz knew that he was close to losing his patience. And his composure would jump out of the window soon after if things didn’t change.

“Sorry boss,” Jesper apologised hastily, sitting up a bit straighter and at least acting as if his attention was back on the mindless scribbles in front of him. “I was just a bit lost in thought. The…weather is so pretty today, after all.”

The weather in question was a mixture of dark gloomy clouds and the occasional rain shower - a typical day in Ketterdam, but definitely far from pretty. Maybe the weather that Jesper had in mind was ginger and able to play the flute, Kaz thought.

“We should probably leave this here,” he let out a huffed breath, meeting Inej’s confused glance.

“What? But the jo-”

“The job can only work if everyone is on the same page,” he interjected Jesper’s unnecessary attempt at defending himself. “You can leave - both of you. I’ll see what I can work out on my own.”

“Are you sure you won’t need any help with this?” the Suli girl asked hesitantly, waiting for her friend to give them another task instead of just letting them off the hook this easily.

“No, it’s fine. Go,” he nodded towards the door, his eyes following Jesper, who was already on his way out. Before Inej could do the same, he decided to give her one last task. “Inej? Tell Y/N to come up here in the next five minutes. I need to discuss something with them.”

“You wanted to see me, boss?” you questioned as soon as you entered Kaz’s semi-tidy office space. When Inej told you that he wanted to speak to you, your heart almost sunk to the bottom of your stomach. People being called up to speak to Kaz rarely ever got out with their dignity still intact.

“Sit,” he demanded, his gaze never leaving the papers on his desk as he motioned for you to sit in the chair across from him.

“Kaz, if this is about th-”

“Don’t start. Whatever you were about to tell me has probably not been brought to my attention yet, so I won’t allow it to occupy my mind until it pops up on its own. Now sit.”

You carefully obeyed his request, slowly sinking into the offered chair while your eyes still remained fixed on the man in front of you.

“He has become absolutely insufferable,” Kaz sighed, letting his fountain pen drop out of his hand and finally acknowledging your physical presence with a defeated glare. “I didn’t even think it was possible for him to become even more intolerable.”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about? Our favourite bawdy flirt-gill has been acting like an infatuated teenage girl and it is driving me mad.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Jesper!” you let out a stifled laugh upon seeing his tired expression. “So you’re basically admitting that I was right about us having to intervene?”

“I’m merely admitting that there was some truth to what you were saying. Don’t get it twisted and don’t get used to it,” he corrected dryly. “And wipe that self-satisfied grin off your face. I didn’t call you up here to bask in your supposed victory.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do about it?” you replied sheepishly, fully aware that you were dangerously close to testing your limits.

“I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like this.”

“Consider it a deal.”

“When I told you that I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like a dotty puppy, I didn’t mean that you were allowed to barge into my office whenever you please,” your boss grumbled, watching you stumble through the door like you had one drink too many.

“Good morning, Kaz, it’s lovely to see you too,” you dismissed his very obviously spiteful remark, walking right up to the chair you had dubbed yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our two problem children and I had an idea.”

“Oh, so miracles do happen,” he jeered, letting himself lean back in his chair as he watched you get comfortable.

“With all due respect - which isn’t a lot - go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll consider it once you’re done telling me about that magnificent idea of yours.”

“Okay, so, Wylan just stopped me in the hallway to ask whether I want to get coffee with him next Friday.” A waterfall of words began to tumble out of your mouth, giving Kaz quite a few difficulties following what you were trying to say. “So, wouldn’t it be an absolute coincidence if Jesper would also go out for a coffee on Friday? It would be such a nice change of pace for them to spend time with…different people - other than us.”

“I am not asking Jesper to go get coffee with me,” Kaz replied laconically, giving you a dissatisfied look in an attempt to convey that he was not too fond of your musings.

“I am not asking you to get a coffee with Jesper - Saints, that man is going to think that you have a thing for him. We don’t even have to leave the Slat for this plan to work.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Please explain to me again why specifically I have to join you on that job?” Jesper bemoaned as he followed Kaz down the stairs. He was not in the mood for playing his boss’ bodyguard today. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave the Slat. It didn’t help that a certain merchling had been occupying his mind for the entirety of last week, pushing every coherent thought to the furthest corner of his brain. “Can’t you ask Inej? Or Matthias? Or literally anyone else? Wait, why don’t you just ask Y/N? You two seem to be getting along surprisingly well recently.”

“Y/N is already busy,” Kaz objected skilfully. “And having a normal work relationship is not the same as ‘getting along surprisingly well’. Flush these thoughts out of your system immediately.”

“I’m just saying,” Jesper snickered, putting his hand up in front of him defensively.

“Kaz? Jesper?” your cheery voice greeted them as soon as they entered the living room area. Wylan and you had been lounging on the couch for quite some time now, simply chatting about life - and love, even though Wylan refused to give you too much information on his ill-fated crush. Of course, you had ulterior motives for staying that long, but your friend didn’t know that. “What are the two of you up to?”

"We have a job near Fourth Harbour," Kaz replied sternly.

"And he's forcing me to come with him," the sharpshooter groaned, his eyes drifting towards the timid boy sitting next to you, flashing him a cocky wink. "What are you up to? Whatever it is, it looks like a lot more fun than whatever Mister Ruin-My-Mood has in store for me."

"Jesper," Kaz warned, throwing you a quick glance, wordlessly asking you to take over.

"We wanted to head out for coffee and some sweet treats later," you mused, watching Jesper's expression turn sour.

"Won't you look at that, Kaz? This is what other friends do in their spare time," he grumbled.

"Hey, why don't you two just go and grab a coffee?" you offered, your gaze wandering between the two soon-to-be lovebirds.

"Us?" Wylan stammered, his finger pointing from him to Jesper, who looked equally as befuddled.

"Yes, you. Jes clearly isn't in the mood for going on a job today, and I haven't been on a proper one in ages," you suggested, giving your friends an encouraging smile.

"You genuinely want to join Kaz on a job with just the two of you? Like willingly?" the Zemeni boy joked, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

"I'm sure I'll manage. Kaz?" You gave him an expectant look, watching as the ghost of a smirk flashed over his lips.

"Fine," he rasped, causing Jesper to break out into a wide grin, whilst Wylan looked a little short of horrified. "Maybe now we'll actually get some work done."

"And maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet, won't we? I haven’t gone out just to get coffee in such a long time.” His attention turned to the young merch, whose head had turned as red as the soles of Jesper’s shoes.

“I’m sure you will have the loveliest of days,” Kaz deadpanned, gesturing for you to follow him outside into the hallway.

“Enjoy your day!” you called before quickly exiting the living room, leaving Wylan alone to deal with his crush. You could have sworn that he mouthed the word ‘help’ before you crossed the threshold to the corridor.

“That worked way better than I had expected,” he uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear his words clearly.

“I told you it would work,” you bragged, earning a disapproving headshake from the man standing next to you. “You’re not the only mastermind in this team.”

“So what’s the next step in your plan then?”

“We could just stay back here and wait for them to come back. I’m sure they’d tell us if something happened between them.” You locked eyes with him again, the intensity causing goosebumps to spread over his arms. “Or we could get out and follow them. Just to make sure that they’re alright of course.”

“I’m not following them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kaz said as he watched you gape at Jesper and Wylan who were currently sitting on the terrace of the café you had pushed them to go to. You found a corner table at the bakery across from where your friends were sitting, giving you the chance to stay unnoticed while also being able to see whatever was going on between them.

“This is fun,” you hummed, leaning a bit further forwards to flash Kaz a cheeky smile, which was slightly hidden by the obnoxious fake roses in the middle of the table. “Don’t you want to see how this will turn out?”

“No.” You frowned at the impassive tone of his voice.

“You didn’t have to join me, Kaz.” He didn’t. He knew that. As a matter of fact, the pile of unfinished documents on his desk only seemed to get higher by the minute. Yet, against all his better judgement, he still abandoned his work in an instant just to go and see whether your plan was working or not. It was foolish to agree to it, however, for some reason, he still did. He was going insane - he was sure of it.

“I don’t trust you to not fuck this up on the first chance you get,” he stated after a short moment of him just staring at the empty space beside your head.

“You trust no one, yet I don’t see you holding Matthias’ hand whenever you let him go on a solo job - well, metaphorically holding his hand.”

Before Kaz could defend himself, the waitress approached your table, bringing over both of your drinks. She had a sickly sweet smile on her painted lips that made him want to bash his head onto the table. He resisted said urge in order to not make a scene though.

“I’ll assume the black coffee is for you?” the woman joked, eying Kaz’s grimly-looking outfit from head to toe, silently accepting the cup and placing it in front of him. She handed you the drink you had ordered and turned around to attend to the other guests. “Feel free to call me over in case you need anything else. Enjoy your date!”

Kaz almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. This was not a date. Not in a million years would he consider this a date. He attempted to seek some sort of confirmation that you shared his sentiment, but when he looked at your face, you didn’t even seem to care about the waitress’ atrocious assumption.

“What is it?” you inquired lowly on taking notice of his slightly bewildered expression.

“She thinks that this is a date. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“… No? Why should it have?” Kaz mentally thanked his luck that Nina wasn’t around. If she had been here to hear the way his heart was running wild she would have probably thought he had a heart attack.

“This is not a date.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that fact,” you let out a breathy chuckle in response to that. “And that’s exactly why it doesn’t bother me. I know that this isn’t a date. You know that this isn’t a date. So why should it matter what some random waitress thinks?”

“Oh…” For some odd reason, your answer disappointed him. This wasn’t a date, so you were right to say it. But something inside of him was beginning to make itself known.

“Oh no,” you muttered, your gaze back on the people you were actually here for. He did the same, regretting it immediately as he saw the uncomfortable scene playing out in the other café.

Wylan and Jesper were sitting across from each other at one of the tables on the terrace, giving you the perfect view of every interaction between them. But instead of them looking like the happy couple you had imagined they would be by now, Jesper was frantically collecting paper napkins, trying to help Wylan clean up the massive coffee stain that had formed a deep brown blotch on his previously neat beige sweater. And to make things even worse, the clumsy sharpshooter had taken matters into his own hands, pulling the flustered boy closer to him by the collar, whilst wiping a dry napkin over the mess he made - his face a mixture of despair and complete distress.

“Idiots,” Kaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to spare himself the embarrassment of watching them any longer.

“Maybe we should put them in a situation they’re more acquainted with the next time.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of knocking?” He was close to jumping out of his skin when the door to his office flew open without a warning, only for it to be you standing on the other side with two cups of tea in your hands. He hastily caught himself, acting as if you hadn't just scared him shitless. It was way too late for any person with even an ounce of self-preservation skills to enter his space without giving him any sort of notice, but of course, you just had to be the exception.

“Are you familiar with the concept of locking your door if you don’t want to be disturbed?” you quipped, not waiting for him to give you permission to enter before waltzing right over to his desk. The mug was quickly placed in front of him and you threw yourself into ‘your’ chair.

“This may be the Barrel, but some of its inhabitants still possess the basic manners of announcing their presence when they intend to bother me in my own office.” Kaz eyed your offering suspiciously, pulling the cup towards himself as if he feared that you might have spiked its content. “What is this?”

“Tea?”

“I know that it’s tea. I'm not dense,” he said, a bit annoyed now.

“Then why are you asking?”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Kaz, you’re not a toddler. You know what to do when someone places a drink in front of you.”

“Why are you bringing me tea, Y/N?”

“That's an adequate question. I had another idea on how to get Jesper and Wylan to admit their feelings,” you began, enticing Kaz to internally question every single decision in his life that made him end up in this situation.

“And you needed to bring me tea to make me listen to that idea? You're either about to drug me into submission or you’re finally attempting to kill me.”

“Sadly neither - yet. But I had the idea while making tea. And I would have felt bad if I went up here without offering you something to drink too,” you replied meekly, a faint blush settling on your cheeks.

“I hope your idea isn’t tea-related. We shouldn’t bring the two dimwits near anything that's spillable anytime soon.”

"I solemnly swear there are no liquids involved in my idea. At least not explicitly," you assured.

"That better be the case. Let's hear it then," he muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip from his tea whilst waiting for you to collect your thoughts. It startled him how good the drink tasted. He hated that you knew exactly what tea he liked and how he liked to have it.

"You still haven't finished splitting us up in groups for the upcoming heist, have you?"

"If you hadn't dragged me along to play matchmaker, the plan would already stand," he grumbled, looking at the stack of blueprints he had yet to analyse for possible security risks.

"Then I'd like to make one suggestion. How about we - well, you - pair Jesper and Wylan together? We're all pretty familiar with jobs like this, so that shouldn't be an issue. Maybe having them work alongside each other could give their relationship just the push it needs."

Kaz looked like he was about to throw himself out the next best window. It was one thing that you had inserted yourself into the majority of his spare time like an unwelcome flu. Now you were also trying to insert yourself into his work? You were really trying to break him down to bits. And maybe he should let you.

"Please, Kaz. I'll even help you with all your boring preparation and mapping out. I genuinely think this could work," you put forward, knowing that the likelihood of him agreeing to this plan was close to non-existent.

"I'll allow it," he said, averting his eyes to look at basically anything else just to avoid letting them land on you.

"What?"

"Have you gone deaf? I said that I'll allow it," he repeated.

"Kaz, I swear to every Saint you don't believe in, I'm so close to kissing you - you’re amazing!" you exclaimed jokingly, a wide grin on your face.

"Do it and find out what ditch you'll end up in," he threatened, but you were too excited to care about the murderous look on his face.

After almost a week of scheming, scheduling and planning in the security of Kaz’s office, you had finally managed to put together a plan that would ensure two things. The success of the job. And the fact that Jesper and Wylan would be staying at each other’s side the whole time.

“I think we can pull this off,” Kaz muttered, visibly still very much in thought.

“You think we can pull this off?” you asked, absent-mindedly twirling one of his pens around your fingers.

“No.” He swiftly snatched it back, putting it down and giving you a self-assured grin. “We will pull this off.”

A few days later, all the Crows had gathered in the cramped attic space, more or less eager to hear about the plans for the upcoming mission.

“Please don’t tell me that we’ll have to go through all of these blueprints again,” Jesper whined as he saw the stack of layout plans that sat at the edge of Kaz’s desk. They had been on jobs in the University District before, so the quite hefty pile of blueprints wasn’t completely unknown to them. More than one evening had been spent slaving over them, spying out every minuscule detail that could give them any sort of advantage. But these plans were new - updated. And everyone dreaded having to do the whole ordeal of looking at them for a second time.

“Y/N and I already went through them, the annotations should suffice. Not much has changed,” Kaz answered, unaware of the suspicious glances his nonchalant comment created. It was well known that you avoided mapping out blueprints like the plague, so this revelation did raise some brows.

“Y/N and you?” Nina and Jesper blurted almost synchronously. They had noticed your absence from their usual evening get-togethers, simply chalking it up to you being under the weather or something. What they hadn’t expected was you sneaking away from them because you went to spend time with the Bastard of the Barrel. Now that they knew the latter had been the case, they had some certain thoughts on what the reason for these nightly visits might be - none of them strictly work-related.

“Congratulations, you have a basic understanding of auditory information processing. Yes, Y/N and I.” Kaz allowed his gaze to shift towards you. It felt odd to not have you sit in front of him, energetically discussing plans and ideas while the noise of Ketterdam’s streets seemed to have fully vanished underneath the sound of your voices. He hated to think that way, but he had grown used to having you around. Whether it be you staggering into his office to propose another utterly insane plot to get your friends to date, or just you keeping him company with whatever talk you could offer. The thought of this routine being ripped away from him once Jesper and Wylan realise their feelings are reciprocated filled him with more dissatisfaction than relief.

“Since when does Y/N care for analysing blueprints?” The Heartrender asked slyly.

“I don’t. It was my forfeit,” you replied before Kaz could. “We had a bet on how much money Jesper would be able to lose in a span of three days. Let’s just say that Kaz really does know you better than I do, Jes.” A lie. A good lie, Kaz thought. The only reason why you would spend your evenings talking to him would probably be the loss of a bet. But that didn’t make the pull on his heartstrings hurt any less.

“Rude,” the sharpshooter pouted.

“Anyway,” Kaz deflected, returning to his actual intention of this meeting. “We also took the liberty of assigning groups and tasks. So I’d advise you to listen carefully.” He adjusted the paper in his hands, letting his eyes fly over your jagged handwriting for the millionth time. “Helvar will pose as a guard - big and brawny with little to think about. One would say it’s the perfect fit.” Matthias let out a dissatisfied grunt at that comment. “Nina and Inej will keep an eye on who leaves, and who enters. And if there is anything suspicious you will alert me.” The two girls gave him a court nod, content that they were able to work together again. “I will attend as a guest. It’ll give me enough time and trust to hopefully get some information on the new ware shipments that are supposed to arrive the week after the ball. Our main objective is getting intel. Any other material acquisitions are just perks. And finally Wylan and Jesper.” The two boys stared at Kaz with an uncomfortable expression. He had never paired them up before. Why was he starting now? “Since the majority of university personnel will be present at the ball, you’ll take care of breaking into the administration’s office. I need some precise data on the involvement of the Council in sponsoring the university.”

“What about Y/N?” A brief pause followed Inej’s simple question.

After all these hours of planning, you had forgotten to add yourself to the equation. You had been so focussed on giving the two lovebirds some alone time that your absence went completely unnoticed. Both of you felt utterly stupid. How could you have missed that?

“They’ll be my date,” Kaz answered a bit too quickly, not letting the thudding of his heart betray his stone-faced expression.

“My condolences.” Matthias gave you an apologetic but calm look, whilst everyone else in the room seemed to be utterly shocked by their boss’ comment. Even you had to suppress the state of absolute shock that had threatened to spread over your face when he referred to you as his ‘date’. Saints, he himself didn’t believe the words that had just slipped out of his mouth.

“I’ll need someone to chat with the merchant spouses, or else I’ll lose my mind. Their presence can buy me enough time to get the information I need,” he explained, but the majority of his friends were too busy interpreting way too much into this situation to acknowledge his reasoning.

Maybe choosing Jesper as a partner would have been easier on his poor heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

[unperceivable-future]

Narcissus [Chapter 1/?]

Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader

Content warning: My own take on the Hanahaki Disease. English is not my best language. Foul language. Angst. May not feel like a Reader-insert considering that Reader has a given quirk and other parameters (except for appearances) [I'll be updating the list as I go]

Synopsis: In a world where humans have further evolved into having redundant traits, you are simply trying to survive life while assisting the Winged Hero.

Note: I did not expect comments and got a bit jumpscared lmao 💀 I absolutely have no clue how this story pans out. I'm just here to write a bit of angst and geek out. A part of me does feel bad that the MC has a bit of a character and backstory and not a super blank slate but I also enjoy having a certain dynamic between Hawks and MC. There is a bit of a projection here unfortunately.

0 1...

===============

You bite back a snort when Hawks' eyes widen at the statistics in front of him.

"Oh shit, that's actually quite a lot." He mumbles under his breath as he reads through the financial report.

"Are you...are you sure these are all for me?" He turns to you, baffled at the numbers. 

"Seems like it, they're all your fans." You shrug in amusement.

"Sucks to be popular huh." One of Hawks' veteran sidekicks chimes in.

The last Thursday of the month is often when the revenue comes in. When Hawks' agency is paid for all the hero work Hawks and his sidekicks have pulled through. Next day is when salary is distributed amongst the staff and...

Monday, first Monday of the new month is when a portion of the revenue is put through a charity system that helps people get their surgery to remove any traces of Hanahaki illness that's caused by Hawks' pretty existence.

The system is rather intricate, involving psych doctors that quite literally use their quirks in determining who is the cause of such a flowery mess of a disease to approve such financial aid.

"I told you to not drink your ass off this weekend." You taunt your boss who cradles his head in his palms.

This always happens. Hawks does something big, makes a grand appearance in the public doing cool heroic villain take downs then do a bit of fan service and celebrate the big victory with his office staff and sidekicks on the weekend then get a bit wasted and regret it by Monday morning as his popularity comes biting him back on his ass.

Normally he gets away from financial punches such as these by rapidly taking down villains without a lot of the public spectating him, his sidekicks barraging in the scene for clean up as he moves to the next villain. That also means less people seeing him and getting the idea that wow, this man is GREAT! Let me just fall in love with him real quick!

But as of late, he has been making a lot of appearances as more daring villains show up and take up his time, attracting viewers and all the shebang. Then added by a little bit of misfortune where he gets invited into interviews he could not turn down since...well, they produce revenues and good public image and that money goes to bettering the agency and of course, goes to helping his unfortunate fans that catch feelings like it's the flu in winter seasons.

It is a balance, really, Hawks is a big believer that a hero's presence itself should be able to put citizens at ease but it does come with a price and in this case, a fairly hefty one.

"Pidge?" Hawks calls you out and you can already guess what he's about to ask of you.

"Yes?"

"Two shots of espresso, please."

"Right on it." You turn to his sidekicks who are fighting back their snickers as they look at the PowerPoint presentation of last month's damages caused by your boss' presence.

"You guys want anything while I'm at it?" You ask them, knowing damn well that they are also fighting a hangover from the weekend's shenanigans.

"Water."

"Coffee."

"More alcohol?" Everybody turns their heads to the youngest and newest sidekick.

"Take it from us, kid, more alcohol doesn't actually get rid of hangovers. It just delays the inevitable." Hawks advises, finally lifting his face from his hands.

"I think it's also worth pointing out that you're on the clock...?" You point flabbergasted at the rather ballsy request.

"Okay, wow, geez I guess I'll just have orange juice then. Damn." The newest recruit mumbles sarcastically, his youthful humour finally coming out of his shy shell.

"Good. Now let's discuss about this month's patrol route." Hawks sighs and clicks for the next slide to continue the monthly briefing and you make your way to the cafeteria to grab the heroes' beverages.

Working with Hawks, after proving yourself by sorting out the administrative side of his business and in turn saving his then crumbling sanity, is not actually that bad. He is chill when the day is chill, he keeps his cool even when the day goes wrong and he learned to stop micromanaging everything and learned to trust that his employees will be able to keep up and keep the system up and running. Over the years, he found the perfect momentum along with his team and knows when a mishap is a mishap and when to actually let go of someone because they are ruining the equilibrium.

He always claims that it was all you, that how you helped set up his office and all the admin side of things is what eased his mind. You personally think that he simply matured and let go of his overly-independent personality.

It made an unlikely partnership between the two of you where there is mutual respect but not in a way that you respect Hawks because he is your boss then he treats you with bare minimum kind of respect because you did things for him through beck and call. It was mutual respect where you both actually work in tandem and you get the perks of calling him out when needed and him being able to actually have someone who does not put him up a pedestal and inflate his head, something like a friend even.

"How was patrol?" You ask, munching on your lunch. Hawks and his sidekicks have just come back from their afternoon patrol just in time while you're on your lunch break, his sidekicks heading to the cafeteria to get something to eat.

"It was hot outside." Hawks yawns and stretches his wings. You hum in response when your phone vibrates.

"Who?" He leans curiously when he notices you tapping on your device singlehandedly.

"Some dude I matched with." You respond nonchalantly, typing up a response as to why you were not in a rush in meeting this man you have been chatting with for the past three days.

"Don't you think you're rebounding too quickly?" Hawks asks.

It was an embarrassing ordeal, having gone through a cordial break up with your partner of one year only to call in sick as you sneeze and cough up petals of lilies. The painful realisation that your ex-partner has moved on quicker than you could when they started to discuss about healthily distancing and setting up boundaries in order to salvage some semblance of friendship. Embarrassing and a punch to the ego, you suppose even when they claimed that they occasionally cough up petals that look eerily similar to the first ever flower they have given to you.

"If I drown myself with men, there's nothing deep to feel." You try to make yourself sound poetic which earns you a snort from the winged hero.

"Yeah and you're probably causing these men to throw up flowers because you've been turning down the second dates." He points out.

"They don't know me well enough to cough up anything." You retort, setting your phone down.

Despite the gruesome and useless trait of coughing up flowers whenever you feel some semblance of unrequited love or care (or when the parameters dwindle and become unresolved), it is quite merciful that such illness only manifests when you feel strongly about it. Maybe it is the self-limiting nature of evolution, that no matter how crazy the body can behave it will always loop back to the baseline so that a petty crush does not decimate your lungs. Biology sure does work in mysterious ways but you would like to thank whoever is out there for making the Hanahaki Disease to follow a negative feedback loop rather than a positive one.

You let out a sneeze, covering your nose and mouth when you feel something lodged in your throat. You get up and leave the lounging area in a hurry, Hawks shooting you a concerned look knowing for a fact that you have not yet gotten over your ex.

It happens, people fall in love and when it goes both ways they do not fall sick. Sometimes people start getting sick even when they are in a relationship, a symptom that their union is tilting to its end. Other times when people feel so unhappy about the circumstances of their dynamic with their partner, they cough up petals as if a warning sign that the couple better start sorting themselves out.

Scientists believe that the social nature of humans is what caused such an evolutionary trait, that with a good and stable union leads to good offsprings eventually. This makes sense, really, because better offsprings are produced from compatible parents. You could imagine how much less generational trauma there should be if your parents got along well.

Others believe that someone or something out there is playing matchmaker, theists and those who believe in fate and destiny. But regardless, the truth remains that the illness seems to exist to supposedly benefit the social personality of Homo sapiens. The tribe is stronger in numbers and when there is less conflict, after all.

Though the whole ordeal is a little bit dramatic, you won't lie. It's not like people are stupid enough with their emotions that they need to cough up a whole ass lily just to remind them hey! You got an unsorted out feelings for this person! Get your shit together, dude! But you digress, sighing as you hack out yet another petal of lily---a sore reminder that a cordial break up will always leave lingering and unresolved feelings at first.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

some more ieytd headcanons but ones specifically centered around zoraxis staff. prism is mentioned but not really in a spoiler way. nothing is mentioned that the trailers haven't already revealed so idk

Juniper

Struggles to keep long term relationships of any type because showing that he cares about people is incredibly difficult for him. He likes to imply it and just… hope the other person knows. But what seems obvious for him is incredibly vague for others around him.

(He has lost most of his friends and all of his partners to this phenomenon and he’s really bitter abt it)

He hates embarrassment so much that the second he starts to feel it his brain translates it straight into rage. Unfortunately, this quick fuse normally causes something to happen that only embarrasses him further.

He talks to himself a lot. Which means that he thinks to himself out loud, but he also literally talks to himself. Refers to himself as ‘John’ and hypes himself up whenever he’s about to do something he deems important. 

His conceit actually comes at the consequence of making him incredibly paranoid. Whenever someone’s talking or laughing, he always needs to take a second to eavesdrop and make sure they’re not talking about him. 

Roxana

Suffers from very intense time blindness- both in regards to her work, as well as her personal life.

Robutler being there was probably the only thing stopping herself from wasting away after she left the Agency. She can, will, and has forgotten to eat, drink, and sleep while she’s been working on projects before. 

Names are incredibly important to her. They’re a sign of basic respect, and over the years that mentality has affected how she communicates with… pretty much everyone around her. She uses them a lot more than the average person would because of that.

(It makes talking w/ Fabby so hard because calling her ‘Fabricator’ feels. bad. That’s not a name dude. even Zor has a name Fabs come on work with her here.)

Really hates unpredictability. Only eats from a small pool of foods because that’s the only stuff she’s absolutely certain she’ll like. Working with her robots is so comforting because she’s always aware of exactly what their thought process is going to be. 

Solaris

She’s naturally very loud. Volume control is pretty much never at the forefront of her mind, but at the same time she gets really annoyed when people tell her to keep it down.

Believes (wrongfully, mind you) that everyone else has at least a neutral relationship with her. Is completely unaware that some of the crew are absolutely terrified of her.

Says what she means and means what she says; rarely ever sugarcoats stuff, and hates needing to decipher other people when what they mean and what they say don’t intertwine.

Praise doesn’t really do anything for her. Obviously it’s nice to receive, but it doesn’t make her feel any better about the work she does. In that regard, she’s entirely self motivated.

She’s very prone to sleepwalking. She’s learned the hard way to cut herself off from her projects and actually go to bed after too many incidents of her wandering around in the lab, bumping into who knows what.

Fabricator

Gets mad easily, and stays mad for a really long time. The sort of person to shake with how visceral her anger is. ‘An eye for an eye’ is one of her daily affirmations, she is not above revenge in the slightest.

She enjoys the way that most people shrink away from her in fear, and plays up her unnerving demeanor just for the fun of it sometimes. However, sometimes people will be scared of her when she’s not even trying, and she will be completely oblivious as to why.

(It's like that scene in Bad Guys where they can’t even get a check for their meal because the staff are all cowering, so they just have to leave the cash on the counter. Waiters in the kitchen drawing straws trying to decide who’s gonna be forced to serve her)

Poison has been her special interest since before she was even working with Zor. Obviously, they’ve only fueled that fire of hers since.

Absolutely adores creatures that people would consider stereotypically terrifying, so long as they have aesthetic appeal. She’d wear a live snake around her neck like a feather boa. She baby talks to Zor’s scorpions. She takes design inspiration from tarantula coloration. You get me.

Speaks with her hands a lot. If you stand too close to her she’ll probably poke your eye out.

[burnwme]

Shifting- from an old, yet new, shifter

I think I just want to write something to talk about certain revelations I've had over the past few days. I was once a shifter, and deep down I always have been. I have been since I was 14, four years ago. The idea that it was fake or not real never came to me. I always believed in it but for the past two years I was no longer in that phase of my life. I believe that it's finding me again and for a reason. I have a story and some advice for all shifters.

I was 14 in October 2020 when shifting was gifted to me by the universe. The next week I very (not) coincidentally came across a book series called "The Veil Diaries" but the characters were 18. I had a lot debate about whether shifting to be older but inevitably went with it. I tried for two years and even minishifted. I was ready to give up and had been very very lazy with it for the past year and just refused to give up because I needed proof that I wasn't crazy and hadn't wasted all this time on something that wasn't real. Then I minishifted. I saw my DR bedroom and sat up a little and then felt myself literally phase out. I don't know how to explain it other then that. I felt myself literally leave that body and universe enter my CR body into the poisiton I think woke up in. It was almost like laying back down in a cliche slow-mo trip kind of way. I woke up in an entirely different position than I'd just been in in my DR and kinda shrugged and went "I just shifted" out loud and then rolled over and went back to sleep. For two days after that I didn't quite process what I had just experienced. I was in that weird ungrounded state I get in after shifting. (If anyone is reading this, let me know if you experience this too.) I knew had shifted but hadn't quite grasped how much of an accomplishment for me this was. But after that experience I gave up.

I guess, not to much gave up but moved on. My life no longer suited shifting. Before I was looking for an escape and had in that process given up on my life all together. The constant energy drain and ungroundedness from shifting combined with my already mental health issues and no motivation to get better because I "wasn't going to be in this universe anymore" made for a horrible combination. I mean I had at one point pushed myself so hard energy wise manifesting + shifting that I woke up the next day mysteriously vomiting. I wasn't taking care of myself. When people say to take care of yourself when shifting they don't just mean drink water or get some sun they mean don't give on you, as in YOU now in this universe. This life has to be enjoyable too. That's how you build energy to use. Don't give up on this universe. I promise there's something in it for you. I'm talking to respawners too, no reason your time left here has to be bad. Shifting teaches us that affirmation makes our realities. It's quite literally the same principles as manifesting. Just like how you script when you manifest. All of these spiritual ideas are connected. WE make our realities, which means you make this one too.

Anyways, I found myself so focused on shifting that everything faded out. I would cancel plans to instead shift, only to half ass shifting since at this point I was so depressed I was lazy about absolutely everything including shifting. I half assed my way through school, friendships and everything else in this life. That was genuinely my biggest mistake shifting. I can see that now. Minishifting, allowed me to prove myself that shifting wasn't real and that allowed me to move on from a phase in my life that was hurting me.

Once I moved on I never left spirituality behind. Instead I found a new interest, witchcraft. I had already been doing doing oracle divination for years and despite being ready to move past shifting I wasn't going to leave the rest behind. I've spent two years doing witchcraft. I bettered my life. I attracted new friends, opportunities and a better life for myself. Do you know how? Witchcraft to put it plainly is advanced manifesting and manifesting is the same idea as shifting. Witchcraft, manifesting, scripting are all just energy manipulation of some kind applied in different ways. This idea holds a level of dramatic irony to me since I've put it together from the start of my witchcraft journey yet only just now realized the other day why my first spells were so impactful despite seeing other "baby" witches struggling with such things. I had been practicing energy control and building my prowess for years, I had just been applying it differently.

After two years away from shifting I found myself feeling that escape feeling I felt so wholly when I first found it. I don't think this is a coincidence. Let me lead you down the rabbit hole of signs that have been put across years for me.

The main thing I can think of is February 2020, I was communicating with my spirits guides. (Something I somehow struggle to do these days) Out of all the times I communicated with them this conversation has stuck out the most. I was asking her if I should break up with my then boyfriend, my first boyfriend. We'll call him Owen. Being young and not even 15 yet this was a big deal to me. She wasn't very helpful but she did TOUCH me. It was so odd. I felt her caress my cheek and when she did her motherly presence became entirely overwhelming and as she did she said to me "We will be here throughout all of this." At the time I though she was just referring to him, but hindsight and destiny have a funny way of working.

Fast forward to the past year. I had a bestfriend I met in sophomore year (2021), coincidentally around the same time as the one year anniversary of me finding out about shifting and about the same tie is when I began to gave up on it. Besides the point though, lets call her Izzy. Izzy and I were as close as girls could be. She was my platonic soulmate. She understood me more than I even knew myself and vice versa. She never believed in most of the things I do, but she never cast judgement. Looking back, she wasn't a very good friend at times but she was always there for me and understood me in ways no one else could. I think at the time that's what I needed. February of last year, Izzy was trying to get me back with Owen. You see me and Owen kinda had an on and off thing through high school but had stayed broken up. It was during one these times she tried to get us back together. That didn't happen since I actually met someone and had a short but rather intense relationship and cut things off with Owen. Now only 3 months after that Izzy and Owen get together, after Izzy explicitly promised me she wouldn't. I swear this all relates back just keep up with me. I stop stop speaking to her for 8 months. Until, after loosing to more friends after moving and being lonely I reached back out. But it wasn't just loneliness, I was seeing crows. Her favorite animal, amongst other signs. I was being pushed to reach back out.

So I did. The first time we hung back out we went to a Barnes N' Nobles. We were in the clearance section when I went top pick up a book and it got snagged on another book. A book that I hadn't even seen next to it, behind it or in any ways attached to it. The book it got snagged on fell literally on top of me. I picked it up and it was a shifting book. I'm not even kidding you when

a SHIFTING book fell literally on top of my head!

That was the first sign of all that's lining up for me. Recently, Izzy cut if off with me. (After an ward-name honesty spell protecting me lol) Our friendship was never the same. It was mutual and a conversation I'd been meaning to have with her anyways. After the next few days I'd had a HECTIC week of trying to figure out college and inevitably push it back due to monetary and commitment issues lol. I was at work doing dishes and shifting came into my brain. I think about it sometimes, but this time was different. I genuinely considered shifting again but literally though to myself that I "wouldn't know where to go" because my book series had ended with them, yes being the same age as me now, but still in the start of their senior year and I was now aiming for college.

Later that night sitting down trying to do a tarot reading I was struggling with it again. I had been in such a blocked, overwhelmed spot. I just wanted to escape, just take a break. Much like when I started to shift. It was then I thought about my book series again and for the first time in years I felt the notion to look it up. There's not fandom for this series, I had the books literally next to me and downloaded on my phone. I never look it up, theres nothing to see. But it was like this pull to do so and so I did. Only to find THERES A NEW BOOK. That was released almost exactly a year ago (when I would've been starting my senior year.) This new book they're starting university, like I currently am. It's been released for a year and it found me NOW. After the first time seeing Izzy a shifting book fell on my head and the last time I talk with her shifting and new book finds me all over again. I know long story for that, and there's been many other small signs in between January-August but those are the main that come to mind.

I think when my spirit guide said to me she'd been with me throughout all of this she meant more than my silly breakup with Owen. She meant the bigger picture of spirituality, shifting, witchcraft and how it would all in a way intertwine with him throughout a series of events he's always somehow caused in my life. She meant my destiny not as just a shifter but as a witch.

My time away from shifting has taught me so much. Me stepping away from it gave me a chance to pivot my energy towards witchcraft which how now given me broader knowledge on how to collect, obtain and use my energy without draining myself in the process. I'm coming back to shifting now with the knowledge of an experience witch. I can use witchcraft not just to better this life, but to better my process of getting to another one.

That being said, I used to put so much stigma around shifting breaks for myself. I put this imaginary deadline on it. I'd go "oh I haven't shifted and it's been two years now" blah blah blah. I was only hurting myself doing that. Not just in my shifting journey but in my personal life and energy. Take it from someone coming back from a

TWO YEAR BREAK

it's not just about regaining your energy and grounding yourself. It's about taking care of this life and learning. I took two years away and everything is lining up for me now. I stepped away from shifting but I never stepped away from the mindset of it, that there's more out there because I knew deep down in someway it would find it's way back to me. And over the course of two years and all these significant social events it did.

My advice to you

Take your time. There's no rush. Don't let shifting take over everything. You're here right now and that's as much as a gift as the knowledge of shifting. Your presence here gives you the opportunity to shift, so don't take this life in front of you for granted.

Focus on the end goal, not shifting in itself when trying to shift. Don't go "I am shifting". Go "I am *name*" or other facts about that life and who you are. When I minishifted I was pretending to think as my dr self would think as she was trying to sleep. That's the "secret".

Research witchcraft an incorporate it. Tarot/oracle readings can be great advice on what your overlooking when shifting or figuring out what will truly fulfill your dreams in your DR. You can do energy calling spells to give you extra energy when shifting so you feel less drained when you come back. You can learn grounding to help you feel better after or to help you learn how to mediate and focus better when shifting. You can use glamour magick to give you confidence when shifting. Or just literally do a shifting manifesting spell!!!! There are so so many ways I can think of to utilize this tool in front of you. If you are practicing witchcraft and shifting please tell me what you do to intertwine these practices?

A break doesn't mean you've failed.

The universe works in weird ways, if you feel you may have grown out of it or just need some time away don't let pride or 'proof' stop you from doing so. You have nothing to prove. You know it's real and it will all still be there waiting for you when you're ready.

Get a hobby. Seriously!!! Focusing all your time on somewhere else isn't healthy. We need mental breaks just as well as physical ones.

Overall, please just take it easy on yourselves. There's no rush. If you feel lazy about shifting, then don't shift. Take your time to find that energy and excitement for yourself again and then come back to it because you're only draining yourself even more.

Don't listen to subliminals every night. You're subconscious brain needs time to process. Keep it to every other, otherwise that will also weigh on your energy and motivation. It's kinda like building muscle. You have to take workout breaks for that muscle to build back.

And speaking of working out. Energy work is easier and more effective with a healthy taken care of body. Not saying to go to the gym (I don't like working out either). But try to live an active lifestyle when you can. Go take a walk in the woods, by yourself or with friends. Take in energy from the earth when you can and be active when you do it.

Give all the bad mucky energy to the earth. Yell at a tree, I'm serious. Mother Earth will take that and turn it into something good. Like our Co2 to Oxygen.

idk HOW many times I can say it but happiness HERE means happiness THERE. Not necessarily always needed but i'm telling you it fucking helps. You don't want to get stuck in the cycle of drained, shifting, even more drained, shifting and so on. It WILL drag you down. So take of yourselves.

I don't know what else to tell you. There's an overall theme in my advice I feel is pretty obvious. Ask any questions and I'll do my best to answer them. <3

[affectiondeficitdisorder]

Stuff I Didn't Say...

...to men on online dating sites

I’m in a pissy mood, so trust me when I tell you it could be worse. I have, at least, learned restraint of pen and tongue over the years. Okay, maybe not pen. Here are some interactions I didn’t have with men on Bumble and/or Hinge (the two dating apps where I can be found):

To the guy I politely texted “I enjoyed our chat, but I don’t see us as a match” after a phone call that revealed we were absolutely, undeniably not a match, and who texted back: "Well thanks for wasting my time….” Dude, we were on the phone together. You wasted the exact same amount of my time. Did that not occur to you?

To the 20-something who contacts me regularly, insisting that he’s older than the last time I told him he was too young for me: I am also older than the last time. The same amount older. Is there something in the Y chromosome that blinds people to equivalency? Does time only happen to men?

To the below-average-looking 60-year-old whose profile reads: “In an open marriage, NOT a sugar daddy…” what exactly are you offering, and to whom? Apparently neither the chance of a committed relationship nor the possibility a fun time is on the menu. Do you think your dick is magic?

To the male friends whom I know to be in relationships that I see on the apps: I’m not going to say anything to you or to your partner, because I don’t want to hurt her plus I don’t know your life. DADT (Don’t Ask Don’t Tell) is a thing and none of my business. But my first assumption — that you’re a liar and a cheat — is statistically probably true, and it will affect how I look at you going forward. 

To the guys who mark their politics as Moderate but pose with dead fish and live ammo, are unvaccinated and hate Joe Biden with a burning passion… sorry, but you’re not a Moderate. That’s not what “moderate” means. 

To the guy standing next to the Lamborghini, the Ferrari or the McLaren in hopes of — what, attracting a woman he can later complain is only interested in his money? … Sweetie, I can see that’s a public parking lot. If you want to persuade me that you own a fancy car, you have to take the picture in your own garage. 

To all the men who have a drink in their hand in Every. Single. Profile. Picture… you might be fine. All those glasses of alcohol might be a total coincidence. But if you ever want to go to a meeting or anything, you just let me know.

***

Below is the profile photo that Bumble‘s algorithm decided should lead my profile page. I think they like it because I’m wearing tight pants. I like it because it was unposed; I was caught being delighted by an unexpected disco ball. 

Closing note: I find the apps to be as frustrating as most women of a certain age do. Yes, men of my generation age-gate their matches to women my daughter-in-law’s age. Yes, the paradox of choice makes it hard to invest much time or energy into any one person. Yes, a huge percentage of the profiles are overseas scammers. (Hint: If the word “honest” or “honesty” appears more than once in his profile, he’s a fake.) Yes, people lie about their age, their height, their career and their marital status. But it’s still a fascinating amateur study in sociology. For one, it shows how the population in Southern California over age 50 is still mostly white, while the population under age 50 is anything but. That’s a big demographic shift. I also notice that there is a metric shitload of single men in their 40’s. You can’t even say it’s a Gen X or a Millennial thing, as it spans both generations. Men born in the 1970s are overrepresented, at least in this town at this time. What’s up with that?

Mostly, I wonder if dating apps are keeping us lonely by giving us the illusion of not being lonely. I can talk to men all day and all night, but I’m still sleeping with my dog. No shade on the dog; he’s a good boy. But virtual connection isn’t genuine connection, and maybe that’s why we get frustrated, and I get pissy. But I will try to keep my yap shut about it. My pen, not so much.

[raitrolling]

@trolloled​

=> It seems like forever since you’ve had a night off work to stay at home, and that’s because it is. Mister Espino had given you the entire weekend because he needed his employees out of his hair so he can have the hive to himself for once had nothing for you to do, and none of your friends had needed you for anything either. 

=> Except one friend. Well, you don’t know if you’d call him a friend, but... 

=> Your co-worker Gerrel had very politely informed you that you still had yet to invite him over to your hive like you said you would, and after a whole lot of apologising for getting too caught up in your work (because unlike him you don’t take time out of your busy schedule at all), the two of you arranged to meet tonight.

=> You have been cleaning non-stop since the moment you got home from work yesterday. Every room (even if you know he’ll most likely only see three of them at most), every window (even though they’re all open to let the nice breeze into the hive), every floorboard (even though large spaces are covered with rugs, which of course you also cleaned), every glass and plate and piece of cutlery. All surfaces has been dusted, decorations polished, curtains and towels all freshly washed, flowers watered, couch cushions and pillows fluffed up... Anything you missed your lusus was certain to point out.

=> And then, of course, you had to prepare food. You cannot be one of Mister Espino’s most trusted employees and not also know how to be a good host. You think you’ve prepared for everything: You’ve got both simple finger foods and fancier (yet affordable and easy to make) hors d’oeuvres, sweet and savoury things, and for lunch you’ve prepared tacos with all the different fillings laid out on the dining table. You also have a small selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks in the fridge, and if he’d like a cocktail you’ve also got all your bartending supplies out. That way he can pick whatever he wants with his lunch, and you should have covered all bases! This is definitely too much food for two people, and your lusus is already shaking his head at you being too wasteful, but he also told you to prepare all of this in the first place. It would be even worse to not be able to fully cater to your hiveguest by lacking something.

=> It should come as no surprise that you are absolutely exhausted from having to do so much work to prepare for Gerrel’s visit, but it’s fine. You’ve pushed through so much worse than a single all-nighter. 

=> You had asked him to text you once he’s arrived so you can show him the ropes to enter your hive. Literally. You live up in the treetops, so he’ll have to climb up the rope ladder. While you wait, you prepare the finishing touches to the banquet of taco fillings and finger foods on the table. Your lusus is perched on the back of the couch, watching you carefully.

[aikoiya]

Portrayal of Deities in Fanfics

I'm getting the impression that not a lot of people on this site actually know how to portray deities in fiction.

I've seen fans who interpret deities as not needing sleep, not needing food, not drinking alcohol, not understanding sickness, not having sex.

I was just reading a fic where it was stated that deities really only have an understanding of whatever falls under their domain &...

I may not be an expert on theology by any stretch of the imagination... but I know enough about Greek, Japanese, & Norse mythology to know that at least a few of these things aren't the case.

For one, Ganymede is the wine-waiter of the gods. And Hestia is known for cooking Ambrosia, the food of the gods. And the Æsir were known to hold great feasts in the halls of Asgard & drank like sailors. And I'm pretty damn sure that Susano-o was known for his love of embibements & Ukemochi is literally a goddess of food & so is Hestia for that matter. Persephone ate the seeds of a pomegranate to be tied to Hades. Hell, Dionysus was the god of wine & whenever he wasn't asleep, he was almost guaranteed to be effing wasted!

And Hypnos & Thanatos are often depicted as 2 sleeping youths. And during the Trojan War, Hypnos induced Zeus to sleep.

As for sex, Greek mythology is absolutely rife with stories of the gods of Olympus's sexual escapades. I mean, how else do you think so many demi-gods came about? A bunch of which belong to Zeus the fuckboy! Seriously, man, Zeus, the literal king of the gods in Greek myth, seems to be absolutely incapable of keeping it in his toga!

So, I have zero clue where the idea that pagan gods don't do these things comes from. I certainly don't know of any myths where a deity is portrayed as specifically not needing to do these things.

Also, the idea that gods only have knowledge of what falls under the umbrella of its patronage especially makes no sense.

Like, what do fans think they do all day? Do they believe that these dudes just have no lives?? Think about it, ya'll!

Let's take gods of war, for instance. There's not always gonna be a war taking place. So, when it isn't & these deities do nothing but their domain, then that makes it seem like they're basically just robots who go on standby until it's time to accomplish their directive.

Honestly, I hope that these ideas are just a means to drum up drama or bring in comedy.

I mean, don't get me wrong, it's funny. It's just very contradictory to all the mythology I know is all.

Like, I get the desire to want to show deities as being 'alien' & 'incomprehensible to mortal minds' & 'not working the same way that humans do,' but you have to remember that in a lot of ways, deities in myth are kind of like representations of culture. In certain ways, they even embody it. And one of the most integral parts of culture is food.

Just get creative.

Aikoiya's Writing Tips Masterlist

[ravenrune]

A request/idea by @cries-in-latino I tried my best and I rather 'enjoyed' writing this, but it's not just happy, fluffy and postive stuff! Warnings: I am very familiar with depression, but I do realise not everyone experiences everything the same way, so anyone reading this that is also suffering: if you cannot relate, I am honestly very sorry.

Also, this one is fecking long! About 1300 words.

RE guys with an S/O that suffers from depression. Chris, Carlos, Leon and Wesker.

Chris is quite familiar with the feeling of being depressed, so he doesn't have a hard time understanding you.

He'll want to talk about it though, because you may have different ways of approaching the problem. Chris doesn't want to push you to do specific things just because something works for him. He understands that the things that work for him may not work for you. That means that you'll have to communicate with him, no matter how difficult communication might be when you're suffering.

He'll try to take care of you to a certain extent. Chris likes to make sure everything is running smoothly, so you won't need to worry about things like doing chores too much. That doesn't mean you can just lie in bed all day, though. Every once in a while is fine, but if it goes on for too long, he will drag you out of the house, even if it's just to take a little walk. You can take that walk at night if you feel more comfortable in the dark.

Chris will not drink, even if it's difficult for him. He doesn't want you falling into the same traps as he did, so he'll try his damndest to prevent that from happening.

Chris will absolutely encourage you to seek help if your mood doesn't improve within a few months. He knows that the longer it goes on, the harder it is to recover, so he won't want you to waste too much time.

He is willing to go to therapy together so you can both at least learn some new coping mechanisms. He also thinks it might be good for your relationship in the long rung. It can be hard to be in a relationship when both you and your SO have mental health issues, so counselling is a good idea as far as Chris is concerned.

Carlos won't understand your depression at first. He is familiar with trauma, but he's never suffered from depression, so it's hard for him to really get how you're feeling.

He will try to drag you out of the house a lot, in hopes of making you feel better. He may think it'll benefit you in the long run and won't really get it if it has the opposite effect on you. He doesn't mean badly, he just really wants to help you to start feeling better. If that doesn't work, Carlos will look up a lot of information and get himself educated on the subject so he can support you better.

Eventually, he just starts asking you what you need. If you want to go out? Good for you, Carlos will happily come along. Want to be alone for a bit? Not a problem, as long as he's not worried for your safety. Want Netflix and chill with him? He won't say no. Just tell him what you need, hard as that may be at times.

On the really bad days, when you can't get anything done, he'll get in bed with you. He will hold you if you want him to, or he will just be present if you don't want to be touched. You can talk to him, but you can also remain silent. Carlos doesn't care. He just wants to make sure you know he's there for you.

He will definitely ask you to look for help. He will support you all the way through it to the best of his abilities and he would never complain if you need to take a step — or even a few steps — back.

He's learnt that recovery can take a very long time and while patience isn't one of his strengths, he will be patient with you for as long as needed.

Like Chris, Leon is no stranger to mental health issues. He's lived through a lot of ups and downs, more downs than ups really, so he gets it. Possibly better than Chris does.

Leon is good at reading people's emotions and will probably know you're having a very bad day without you even having to tell him. This is nice since talking can be difficult, so having someone that can read you is quite handy.

He isn't too sure about how to help you. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's because he really doesn't know how. Leon has his own coping mechanisms, but like Chris', they aren't very healthy.

Leon will take care of your physical needs. Depression can cause a lot of physical problems too, and he always wants to take the pain away from you. Seeing you suffer makes him suffer, too.

If you are comfortable with massages, you'll get all the massages a person could possibly ask for. Leon knows how much your muscles can hurt, so he'll try to take that pain away at the very least.

Unlike Chris, Leon isn't the type to look for help. He prides himself on his independence and would rather not get any other people involved. Even though you may love each other more than anything, this relationship could become difficult as time goes by. Especially if your or his symptoms worsen at the same time.

You might need to ask him to look for help, whether together or alone. If this is too difficult, you can always contact Claire. She'll get you both an appointment with a professional within a matter of hours. There's no shame in asking other people for help. It's about your well-being, and you both deserve better.

Anyway, it's important to communicate, even if Leon isn't always in the mood and would prefer to drink his bad days away. You can't fix him, and he cannot fix you, so mind your boundaries.

It can all work out in the end, but only if you're both willing to work hard on it. It'll be worth it.

As soon as he finds out you suffer from depression, Wesker will want to know everything about it. He wants to know if you're on meds, if you're seeing a therapist and if you ever feel like life isn't worth it anymore.

He would not be okay with a romantic partner that only lies in bed all day and doesn't make an effort to get better. He can be patient, but only if you're willing to put in the work to try and recover. He has deemed you worthy of his presence, so as far as Wesker is concerned you better appreciate him for that.

The man has his own issues, but he would never admit to them. Hell, he doesn't think there's anything wrong with him personally, in his mind it's everyone else that is broken and pathetic. That means that Wesker will not show a lot of empathy and might even get irritated if you refuse to get up and take a shower.

He will pay for you to get help. You'll have access to the best therapists, psychiatrists and even occupational therapists a person could ever wish for. You can even see other specialists if Wesker thinks there might be a physical problem underlying the depression. He wants you to find the root cause of the problem and won't stop buggering you (and doctors) until you've started to feel at least a little bit better.

That said, you managed to reel Wesker in, and he really does want you in his life. That means he isn't a complete dick. If you've been working hard, but you hit a rough patch, he'll be there. He'll be there to feed you, listen to you and even help you take a shower and get dressed.

If all else fails, he will just hold you. No words, no expectations, just affection.

[destourtereaux]

simp for you - rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: rafe teases topper about being soft for sarah, but he and kelce are quick to point out that rafe acts the exact same for a certain girl...

taglist - add yourself here

warnings: drinking, profanities (i never really swear so this was so odd to write LOL)

word count: 1.2k

gif by @jedidiahtiens

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for the outer banks, so if you have feedback let me know :) -- this was inspired by one of @annab-nana's fics, would 100% recommend you check out her writing!! as always, reblog if you like <3

“Topper, could you be any more obvious? Sarah’s got you wrapped around her little finger!” Rafe exclaims in disgust. “Everyday it’s how’s she doing, where’s she at, like damn!”

“He’s right, Top, you’re down bad for her,” Kelce joins in. “But what I don’t get is why Cameron’s the one acting all big and bad…” he smirks.

A crooked smile replaces the annoyed look on Topper’s face at these words. “Yeah yeah, as if you’re not the same with Y/N, Rafe. We see how you get around her. All -- mushy, staring at her all the time and smiling like an idiot.”

Rafe scoffs, “Please! You’re both seeing things, I’d never get all soft like you fools. That’s some lame shit right there.”

Kelce and Topper shake their heads, almost in unison. “Whatever you say man.” They knew it wasn’t true in the slightest.

Later that night at the beach, a roaring party was taking place. There was a bonfire going, and as always, lots of booze. The ruckus had attracted quite a few tourons, and so it was particularly chaotic. Everyone who was anyone on the Outer Banks was there, swaying to the beat or making out with someone else.

Not ones to shy away from attention, Topper, Kelce, and the King of the Kooks himself, Rafe Cameron were at the very center of it all, getting absolutely wasted. They sat near the flames, in a little circle so exclusive that no one else dared to go within a meter of them.

That was, until a clear voice cut through the crowd. A voice Rafe would recognize anywhere.

“Hey boys!” you waved at them through the throng of people, a huge grin lighting up your face. You’d just come back from a huge shopping spree with Sarah, having seen the text your boyfriend sent you about the kegger.

Your friends waved back at you and Rafe beckoned you over. “I missed you guys,” you add, giving your boyfriend a side hug as his hand found your waist and pulled you next to him. He smiled at you almost unconsciously, taking in how the light from the bonfire bounced off your hair, enveloping your face with a glowing warmth. You looked angelic, and Rafe’s breath caught. You noticed him staring and gave him a little peck on the cheek, smiling.

Kelce and Topper glanced at each other and smirked, the show was about to start.

“Rafey, can you get me a drink? I’m a little thirsty,” you ask, oblivious to what was happening.

“Yeah of course, babe,” he nods, planting a kiss on your forehead and walking off in search of a cup.

You turn your attention back to Topper and Kelce. “So… Top! Kelce! How are you guys? I haven’t seen you two in so long.”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Dealing with Rafe and his shit,” Kelce responds casually.

That draws a giggle from you, “thank you for your service, gentlemen.”

Topper does a mini-bow, acknowledging their work.

“But enough about us, how have you and Rafe been, Y/N?” he redirects the conversation quickly, and Kelce nods his head fervently.

“...Okay I guess?” you respond, a little thrown off by the change in topic. “We’re doing great, Rafey’s a great person, and so so charming. You wouldn’t think it because he acts all bold but he is such a sweetheart deep down.” Lost in your thoughts of your boyfriend, you miss the identical smirks on your two friends’ faces.

Just then, Rafe returns with drinks for all of you, and he pulls you down onto his lap as he takes a seat on the sandy beach. “Have you eaten anything today?” he asks you insistently, “we can take the car to grab some food if you’d like, I don’t want you to be hungry.”

“I’m fine, baby,” you insist, turning to nestle your face into the crook of his neck and the boy nods.

A few hours later, most of the tourons had left and only the locals were left, chattering in their own groups around the fire. You found yourself getting drowsy as you took in the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing onto the beach and the crackling of the dying fire, and promptly fell asleep.

Rafe was never really a details type of guy, but when it came to you… he seemed to have a sixth sense. He noticed right away when you crossed that line between reality and dreamland; you relaxed a bit in his arms and your head drooped softly onto his chest. Sighing, he gently turned you around so that he could better support your weight, he knew you were probably exhausted. The fact that you had fallen asleep in his arms revealed to Rafe just how much you trusted him and this realization gave him a sudden boost of love for you. He swore right then that he’d protect you to the end of your days, no matter what it took.

Turning back, he was greeted by two shit-eating grins beaming at him from his two best friends.

“Not soft, huh… Rafey?” Kelce broke the silence, chuckling. “Wanna get some food? I don’t want you to be hungry!! We’re losing you, man, do you hear yourself?”

“Of course, I’ll do anything for you, baby,” Topper adds, “and you thought I was mad for Sarah.”

“Admit it, you’re a simp for her,” Kelce finishes, “and you don’t even know it.”

Rafe’s face burns, and he’s glad the darkness covers up the redness climbing his neck that has nothing to do with your warmth on his chest.

“You’re both idiots,” he concedes, downing the rest of his beer and throwing down the plastic cup, ignoring the combined laughter of both his friends. “Idiots who’ll be getting themselves home tonight. I’ve gotta drive Y/N back.”

And just like that, the other two boys are silenced, but not for long. Then their laughter transforms into groans. “You’re kidding, Rafe. Whatever happened to bros before hoes, huh?”

It’s all jokes though, Topper and Kelce were happy that Rafe had someone to keep him on track. You were perfect for their friend, anyone could tell. And so they goodnaturedly began their own walk back as Rafe, ever so gently, picked you up and carried you over to his car.

As he buckled you in, you opened your eyes, dazed from the sudden awakening. “Baby where are we?” you prompt, the night was silent all around you two, and there was no sand between your toes anymore.

“Shh, don’t worry Y/N/N. I’m taking you home. You can keep resting if you want, I’ll wake you up later.”

“Okay. I love you Rafe,” you murmur, and then the tide of sleep washes over you once more.

Rafe stays silent for a bit, choosing to give you yet another kiss on the forehead instead. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you could ever know.”

And I wouldn’t mind being a simp for you, he admits in his head as he begins the drive back home.

taglist: @pogueslandia @maybanksslut @calaryssia

(+ @outermaybank @henqtic @taylathornton bc you guys pressured me into tn LOL)