#It'll be hot too which is unfortunate

[thewindandthestars]

Venti tucking my hair behind my ear when I work because he knows I get overstimulated easily and my hair can add to that idbfodbdi.

Writing utc because sometimes inspiration hits randomly

"Why are you growing out your hair if it'll only bother you?" his question brought Orion out of her thoughts. She looked up from her drawing and hummed in thought.

Venti rested his head on his hand, his gaze curiously following the haircut that's growing out. "Because even if it bothers me sometimes, the really short hair isn't what I want part of my identity right now." her reply came easy.

She raised her hand to touch at the longer strands that she's been growing out and a smile etched onto her lips. "And eventually we can match." she joked, though it wasn't far from the truth. She was growing her hair out into a similar style much like his.

Venti smiled a little at the joke, his eyes flicking down to meet her own, "But it's still too short to do anything with."

She shrugged her shoulders, "It is what it is. I just need to get bobby pins to pin my hair back. It's an achievement that my hair can be tucked behind my ear now."

It was something to be proud of, for her at least. Venti's expression softened and he hummed. He reached for the longer strands of her hair and played with it a little. "It did come a long way from the beginning of the year." he mused, remembering just how short her hair was. "We can go to the stores tomorrow and get you some bobby pins."

He tucked the hair back behind her ear and gave her a bright smile. "It can be a quick date. We can even go to the bookstore that you like!"

She perked up at his words and her own smile grew. "Now that sounds like a splendid idea."

[journey-to-the-attic]

the new nightmare is cool but i think not putting them in hanfu was an missed opportunity

(+ long hair version that i wasn't as sure about)

[shittygothbitch]

I hope you have a great day and things look up for you soon love you

Love ya too, darlin

[huellitaa]

₊˚⊹♡ education is hot!

education is literally the most valuable thing in life. please please PLEASE take advantage of that. self concept is important, good looks are important, happiness is important, health is important, but without education we wouldn't even know what any of that even means. ♡

having knowledge makes you magnetic. when you're smart, people will look up to you. and if people look up to you, it means they think about you, they admire you, and you have an influence on them.

life is knowledge. the more you learn, the more you are. knowledge is the fundamental basics to life. nothing is the root of everything but we wouldn't even know what nothing is without education. we wouldn't have language, we wouldn't have concepts, we wouldn't have technology, we wouldn't have the screen you're reading this on. we wouldn't have tumblr 😨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 1. noting down ur findings

the smartest people ALWAYS note down what they learn, whether it be big or small. if you have lots of knowledge and / or the memory capacity of a goldfish then naturally you may not always remember what you learn. keeping it noted down in any preferably easily accessible format of your choice is so helpful and a very smart choice if you want to be an Intellectual™. notebook, sketchbook, binder, google docs, notion pages, tumblr posts, notes app, anything you like !!!!! just keep it noted down !!!! ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀2. utilising ur resources!!!!

so many people i know and millions of people throughout the world suffer with a crippling addiction to their phones, but what are you actually doing on said phone? you spend ages on your phone, your tablet, your laptop, reading, writing, playing video games, and so on, but even then, are you genuinely learning? are you taking the time to absorb the knowledge placed before you or are you skimming through it all in a mindless cycle of media consumption?

think about how you can utilise the things around you to learn. for example, make all that time spent on your devices useful. research, study, learn in your free time. knowledge is abundance. you can use your local library, your local bookshops, ur school or ur college or ur workplace just to find out more about your surroundings and about the world. it is so much more valuable thank you'd think.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 3. wisdom

wisdom is the highest form of knowledge. to learn is to live so living is the only way you're going to truly learn, if that makes sense. therefore, by using this direct method, you gain the highest manner of knowledge; wisdom. wisdom is not being book smart or knowing how to solve equations or write essays but wisdom is genuine, pure, raw, life experience and life lessons, which, surprise surprise, can only be gained through experience and living your life. go out, try things, get out of your comfort zone, get comfy being uncomfy. you got this. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 4. social interaction

"nerds dont know how to socialise!!!" okay so maybe i adhere to this stereotype sometimes but social interaction is, however unfortunate it may be, a key part of being intellectual and having genuine knowledge. going back to wisdom and learning through experience, speaking with and networking with and sparking connections with others is a vital way to be educated and informed and cultured along with enhancing your social skills, because we need to know how to interact with others, too. if we can't spread said knowledge through connections and socialising so it can be passed down for hundreds of thousands for years to come then there is no point in learning at all because it'll have no use in the long run.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 5. media consumption

feed ur brain. i cannot stress this enough. read books, fiction or non fiction. i know you've heard this a million times but it's true. read just a random article of interest every day to get your brain working. learn a new word every day, read news reports, letters, interesting blogs, articles, websites, do puzzles, crosswords, wordsearches, memory games, listen to podcasts, audiobooks, watch documentaries, youtube videos, interviews, ted talks, video essays, EXERCISE UR BRAIN

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 6. insights, emotional intelligence and empathy

as i've said before, and i'll reiterate again, knowledge extends beyond simply having book smarts and knowing how to work with letters and numbers. the most powerful method of communication amongst humans is emotion, and being well versed in how to read, understand and communicate said language is only learnt through real life experience and observation of real life experiences where the use of emotional intelligence and empathy come into play. analyse these experiences and note down everything

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 7. question ur sources and BE BOLD

one thing i was taught ever since i was little is that when ur online you need to be veeeery careful with all the information you get fed because there are lots of people out there, esp on the internet, with lots of different intentions and lots of different facts, even if they have good intentions and don't mean to mislead you. always double check whatever ur told with someone you know or on another website or two or a physical yet reliable source if you have one to hand, and cite your own opinions too. you get to choose what does and doesn't get to enter your mind. your mind and your knowledge is yours entirely and only yours to be tampered with and adjusted in any way you'd like.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 things 2 study and be generally educated on:

social etiquette and politeness

countries and their respective laws, cultures, landmarks etc.

history of your own family and ancestry

languages you're interested in and basic phrases in several languages

information about your dream and / or current career

finances and how to manage your money

business, networking and persuasion

pet psychology and how to take care of them

capital cities and basics about places around the world, esp if you plan on going travelling

something beautiful about knowledge is that you'll never run out of it and it can never be taken away from you. people can take anything from you, but never your intelligence. ♡

all my love! 💖✨💘💗🎀💓

[signedkoko]

hello, good afternoon/night!

I was wondering if you could do a vox x character (?) oneshot where the other person has royal status (something similar to stolas).

I’m interested to see if vox would change his attitude if he was interacting with someone above him, or if he would act the same as usual.

either way, I hope this makes sense and thank you so much!

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are apart of the ars goetia family, and Vox doesn't know much about royalty. Reader is genderneutral.

Being one of the 72 members of the family didn't feel special from your point of view; you were royalty, yes, but what that actually meant was beyond you

Nevertheless, you were representative of innovation, and your role as an 'aristocrat' was quite literally the most dull of all: an archivist

Your role was to document, file, or archive every piece of information that has ever existed or will exist, and to protect it all in your library

You were a vast network of knowledge, not too different from a computer

That was where you and Vox became so similar, he was certainly an impressive overlord worth meeting.

You found yourself archiving logs upon logs of his creations, of his ad campaigns, of his scandals; he was always up to something

It piqued your interest, so you were sure to note the next time you were in proximity so you could meet him

Vox didn't give two shits about royalty, but what he did care about were the opportunities it presented

It was worth being nice to them and biting your tongue, and in all honesty, he wasn't much of a hot head when it came to people he didn't know

He had files on every member of the Ars Goetia, including yours, and he'd developed a bit of a 'celebrity' crush

You seemed so like him, but he knew pictures could only say so much about a person and moved on

Both of you knew the other would be at the same event, and like magnets, you came straight to one another

Vox used his television charm to lure you in, and just like you'd hoped, it worked

He is extremely nervous around royalty because, truth be told, they really are far more powerful than he or any other overlord

Not to say he doubts himself, but he understands his limits

And being technology itself, he also knows that your ability nearly pales his technology—computers are without a doubt more capable of storing information and processing it than any human or demon ever could, but you were beyond that

That is to say, he is extremely impressed with you and asks a lot about your ability, almost hoping it'll reveal some kind of trick he could use too

Unfortunately, no tricks, but he does find you to be just as kind as he'd imagined

Ars Goetia is extremely strict about the relationships they have, but fortunately for you, you knew every rule and loophole there was to know and managed to get by with 'one of hell's strongest overlords'

He is very adaptive to rules and customs, so it's no issue impressing your family with his seemingly infinite skills

" I didn't know you knew all that, Vox. "

" Yeah! You know, I didn't either! "

He absolutely goes autopilot a lot around other royals because he does not want to cause you any trouble, but you always tell him to relax and let him know you'd never let them get in the way

The hardest decision is who is moving, and when you eventually offer to abandon your lavish lifestyle for his minimalistic city style, he does whatever he can to help you adapt.

Really, you are his prince(ss), and he will treat you like the royalty you are

" So, does this make me a prince now? "

" Are you proposing? "

One of his favourite perks is that now he can really stick it to Alastor

Not that he would ever intend on putting you in danger—even if you'd win—but let's be honest

You would win against that stupid radio demon

Oh yeah, he's proud of that too

Author's Note - I ended up doing headcanons because I felt the prompt didn't have enough for me to go off of, I apologize for disappointing!~ Even so, I hope this still catches your interest 🖤

[luveline]

ooh yay okay short blurb idea!! stevie comforting anxious!reader with back rubs? I feel like he gives the best calming back rubs ever!!! need him to help me w my anxiety :( 🤍🤍🤍

It's not that Steve's presence alone can stave off your anxiety, he's not a miracle, though he is miraculous, but it doesn't take long without him to fall into unhappy thoughts. He leaves to shower and you worry about everything one ache at a time, hands braced on your knees, begging your body to just let it go this time. Just this one time. 

You listen to the shower running, glad for the noise to hide your breath as it begins to wind, but Steve is quick. A minute later he's turning off the water, and a minute after that he's propping open the door to the ensuite to let out the hot air. His hair is still dry. He only wanted a refresher after the hot weather. 

You squeeze at nothing, your hands aching from the scrunch and unscrunching of your fingers. Steve must sense it, your quiet hurting, because he looks up with that resigned concern already lining his mouth, lips pulled down into an unfortunate frown. 

"Hey," he says, pulling the last sock on, "I'll be right there." 

The distance between you is relatively small and huge nonetheless. "It's okay," you say. 

You're wheezing. Steve's eyebrows furrow, and he grabs his glasses off of the night table as he sits down beside you. They slip down his damp nose and fog a little from the heat of his skin, which is a nice distraction until you realise it's a distraction. 

"Can I touch you?" he asks quietly. 

You nod quickly. Sometimes the panic is too much, and anyone's touch feels like a burn, but right now it's the one thing you want. Steve slides right up to your side, thigh to thigh, elbow to elbow. He slides the arm closest to you behind your back to hold you, and the other comes over his lap to your leg, where he squeezes the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

"What is it?" he asks. 

"I think…" you breathe in until your chest feels like it'll pop. "An attack." 

"Okay," he says, pulling you that last bit closer. You're like one person.

You lean forward away from him without thinking. Steve doesn't follow, but his hand tracks a heavy weight on your back. He starts to draw as he usually does when this happens, long fingers and a soft palm roving up the length of your spine and down again, filling the dip of your back as his voice melds to a whisper. "It's okay. We have to ride it out, that's all. You know that already. Keep breathing, babe." 

You cover your face with your hands. Steve makes a small sorry sound and takes your wrist, pulling your hand from your mouth.  

"Just breathe, honey." 

It's not easy. Not as simple as just, but you breathe. Steve's hand is dutiful and loving as it goes, tracing the same path over and over again. He whispers every now and then when you hold your breath or show signs of cracking, and when your eyes fill with tears his touch turns especially tender. 

People forget how full of love Steve is. He wants to love people, even if he does get annoyed at everything. Everything, and yet never at this. This is where his patience lies. 

Your back starts to feel ticklish from his touching. It works better than intended, one uncomfortable feeling replacing the other slowly. Steve puts his second hand on your chest to feel your pulse, his pinky finger sliding under the neckline of your shirt. He counts under his breath. 

"Good," he murmurs, pulling out his hand. "Good job, baby. You're okay." 

The attack ends, the shaky aftermath begins. You feel weak from hyperventilation, hands still shaking. Steve wraps you up in his arms now you're in no danger of suffocation to hold you together, pulling your face to his neck, his cheek turned from you as he sighs in relief. "You're okay," he says again. "That was a sudden one, huh? You okay?" 

You manage a soft laugh. "I thought you already decided." 

"It's two different okays." He rubs the top of your shoulder with his thumb, leaving warmth in his wake. "I know from your heart that you're okay, but are you okay? You know. What do you need me to do?" 

You hug him weakly. "Nothing. I don't need… Thank you, Steve." He's done more than you could ever ask for. 

"You're welcome," he says, kissing your cheek twice, his words warm and quiet against your skin. "Don't mention it. Just glad you're feeling better." 

[bambisnc]

sunny [ft. w.yx]

pairing : bsf classmate!nicholas x reader genre : fluff :( cw/tw : kissing + a littol suggestive wc : 0.7kish !

drowning under the weight of unsaid words and hidden feelings was something you'd made your peace with.

falling for your best friend, nicholas, who just so happened to be a classmate was not the best decision ever; but you’ve been dealing with it rather decently all these years.

so.. maybe it'll all work out just fine.

is what you thought, merely minutes ago.

everything was normal then; with both of you trying not to fall asleep during a particularly boring class. the harsh yet very welcome RING! of the school bell jolted you awake from your trance-like state, and you’d wasted no time in grabbing your bag and making your way towards the door.

but when has nico ever just let you leave?

a "where'd you think you're goin'" and a sharp tug to the strap of your bag as you're pulled back by none other than your best friend.

he reminds you that you have cleaning duty that day with a far too gleeful expression..

..and that's how you find yourself leaning against a desk, zoning out to thoughts of him and how the afternoon sunlight streams in through the windows perfectly lighting his features aglow..

the loosened tie, the rolled up sleeves, the small smile playing on his lips as he says something.. wait he's talking to you.

"you're not exactly subtle you know?"

you find yourself unable to think of an appropriate reply, instead choosing to hide behind a simple roll of your eyes.

he lets out a laugh at that, making his way towards you, "i didn't expect you to be so careless with your duties.."

at that, you can't help but gulp because even though it's not like you're not physically affectionate towards each other but something about this moment is.. decidedly not platonic.

nico's hands rest on the edges of the desk, his face just a little too close for comfort. he's effectively trapping you against it; seemingly completely unaware of the effect this is having on you.

when he speaks up next, voice barely more than a whisper, you feel his lips hover just above yours, "or is it that.. you're just too distracted by a certain someone..?"

something shifts right then. an obvious tension shrouds you and it's as if the two of you are the only people in the entire universe.

your hand reaches to tug on his collar, tentatively, with a considerable amount of hesitance; but the way his eyes meet yours – you swear you can see the sun, the moon, all the galaxies in those eyes – leaves you reeling.

you're not sure which of you closes the distance between your lips but you can't really bring yourself to care in the slightest.

not when nico's lips press against yours impatiently, eagerly. like he's been waiting for this. yearning for this, almost just as much as you.

especially not when your stomach is busily turning upside down like its life depends on it; all the while your best friend allows one of his hands to tangle into your hair, effectively deepening the kiss.

you'd do this forever if you could, but the unfortunate need for air causes you to push him away.

and oh, the way his face looks the absolute picture of debauchery, of indulgence; what with his heavily lidded eyes and flushed face. his delicately swollen lips still grab your attention with unsurprising ease.

he looks like the prettiest mess ever.

you find yourself unable to deal with all the thoughts that suddenly flood your brain. this is what you've been dreaming of for ages. but n is your best friend. best friends do not do this.

his hand moves to gently cup the back of your neck, then; bringing you forward to capture your lips in another kiss, this one vastly differing from the previous.

tender, languid movements as if you have all the time in the world. his soft skin is hot to the touch but if it's him you wouldn't mind burning to ashes the second he asked.

you feel all your doubts slowly die down, a lingering warmth spreading in their place as you find his other hand on the desk and intertwine both your fingers.

notes : @chiiyuuvv love youuu + ACCIDENTALLY ALMOST DELETED THIS ADN FR CRIED FOR LIKE 30 SECONDS + i lowk thought of sunwoo while writing but shhh + water related metaphors for reader n sun/fire related metaphors for nicho = symbolism loml ! + shoutout to this post and this post couldnt have done this without em + [m.list] song rec : sunny by rocco <3

[lycheeloving]

Rick Sanchez x reader porn thoughts bc I've been thinking about this for a really long time & I can post whatever I want. The second half is dark/noncon, all of it is nsfw so MINORS DNI:

You're not super known by Ricks bc most of them have never met a version of you, but the ones who have really like you (or just think you're really hot). Which means the ones who've never met or seen you would also think you're hot if they met you!

So your Rick has the glorious idea of filming & uploading every time you have sex and basically starting the citadels porn industry. What kind of Rick wouldn't want to see a version of himself fucking a hot person? The few other versions of you who know a Rick are pretty pissed tho, bc now every Rick who meets you for the first time can only think of sex. Oh well. (Rick makes sure nobody can figure out exactly which version of you is starring in the videos tho. Other's are allowed to see you naked only if they can't be sure that it was you.)

First it starts off with just normal sex. As normal as it can be with Rick, I guess. But normal enough. Maybe some choking or spanking or whatever here and there, but nothing crazy. But then you start to get more adventurous! More intricate bondage, some weird-ass ass role-playing, more BDSM of any kind, he even tries to get you to fuck some kind of tentacle monster! (but you refuse. "Are you sure? That w- would be SO hot!")

Will probably build a fucking-machine just for you. Something that fits your body and needs 100%. You've never come faster and harder in your life! Rick would get jealous if he hadn't built it himself. I mean, if the machine is making you come, that's basically like he's making you come like that, right?

Basically what you're doing is giving the audience what they want, while still mostly staying inside of your comfort zone.

Unfortunately that is not enough for some Ricks. So at some point another version of you gets kidnapped, to fulfill all of Ricks fantasies that the pathetic, weak, sappy Rick doesn't want to force you into doing. Instead of safe, sane and consensual, you're getting unsafe, insane and non-consensual.

Honestly it would probably turn into something like a professional porn production. Except for the fact that you're not willingly participating of course. There's a porn director Rick (the one who kidnapped you), porn star Ricks, sound and light technician Ricks, cameraman Rick...

The original porn Rick was too jealous to let other Ricks join, but this one doesn't care. In the first video you're getting fucked by 5 Ricks at the same time until you're too overstimulated to speak.

You're probably getting cloned as well, so even more Ricks can go at it at the same time. And so you can have sex with yourself! (He might use aphrodisiacs for that, so at least one of the versions of you initiates things and isn't just trying to pretend that this isn't happening.)

Lots of the videos will be similar to the original consensual videos, except for the fact that you're crying, begging and trying to get away. If you ever get too compliant and accepting of your situation he'll probably erase some memories, so you can never really get used to it. It'll always feel scary and new to you.

The tentacle idea is being made reality as well, of course! You're getting stuck in some big glass cage with that creature, so you can't get away and the tentacles can't go anywhere they're not supposed to go. Get ready for some slimy fun! Or not fun. But lots of orgasms and tentacles in every hole until you pass out and then some.

The po(rn)ssibilities are endless!

[datenightfright]

Not sure if Tumblr ate my ask as well but just in case:

Do you remember that one request someone else made about Godzilla shape shifting between a human and a Kaiju and had a human S/O who he'd been keeping this secret from in fear that they might hate him?

Imagine that, but his S/O is also a Kaiju shape shifter who was keeping their secret from him for the same reason and they decide to help Godzilla out when he's having a tough time with an enemy Kaiju?

Hello, I believe I've already gotten this ask in less detail in by inbox. I am unfortunately very slow at answering inbox asks, which is why I tend to churn them out in one day. Perhaps this is a case of two great minds thinking alike, I'll answer the other one when I get to it.

It's ironic that a split second decision would be the hardest one of your life. You were aware of the cameras on you, you were aware your long kept secret was going to be plastered all over the internet within minutes. But Godzilla needed help, and you were the only one that could help him in that moment. The regular humans were too scrambled to provide a timely intervention. The thought of your current, smoking hot boyfriend didn't even cross your mind until AFTER the fight was done.

You groaned, cracking open an eye looking at Godzilla above you. It was no fun being thrown into buildings. The rebar tended to stick you in places you didn't even know could be stuck. Despite the thick kaiju hide the grew when you shifted, you knew you were going to be sore the next day.

You righted yourself, received a nod of appreciation from Godzilla, who turned to leave. Not bothering to say 'you're welcome' you begin shifting back to your human form. Unware the giant was watching you with interest. When you're done, you ache so badly you have to sit for a moment or two on a boulder, aware Godzilla is looking at you with interest. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," You snap. Godzilla huffs, then begins to emit a glow similar to yours.

You have to shield your eyes from the light. When you can finally see again, you put your hand down, mouth immediately dropping. "You're fucking kidding me." You say. Your boyfriend is there, giving you the dopiest grin known to all mankind. "The whole time?!" You roar, getting up to pitch a fit. Your body had other ideas and you immediately sit back down.

He laughs at you and approaches, sitting next to you. "Remind me to kick your ass later." You snap, placing you head on his shoulder. He merely chuckles and places a kiss on your head. What a life.

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Izana dealing with a bratty sick reader <33

Thank you so much for requesting<333

The weather seemed very nice, perfect to walk in the park and hangout but unfortunately for you, you caught cold and your boyfriend imprisoned you in your own room. Not being the type to take care of yourself, he had no other choice.

The door opened and the person who came in your room was no one other than your beloved, Kurokawa Izana. He had cup of tea in his hand, small amount of smoke coming out of it.

You let out an audible groan. "Please not again..." He put the tea on the chair in front of you. "I hate lemon tea more than anything."

"It's necessary." He simply stated and ignored your groans. You knew it was necessary, but it tasted so bad especially when you didn't have any appetite or taste for anything. "I will drink it later." You turned to the other side of bed, your back facing him.

Izana scoffed, starting to get tired of your bratty behaviour while he was trying to take care of you--which was hard for him because he didn't have anyone to take care of him when he was sick and now he was trying his hardest to that for you. "It'll get cold."

"It's too hot now."

"It's not." He turned you to his side, cup in his hand. "You already turned down four cup of tea. I'm not letting you to waste this one too."

Izana brought the cup to your lips and admitting your defeat, you took the sip of it. Not much but at least it's something. The warmth immediately spread in your body the moment you gulped it down.

"See? Not that hard, right? Now drink this all up." He placed the cup in your hand, not taking eyes off of you as you started drinking the tea. Izana took the paracetamols from his pockets, that he had to go to pharmacy five streets away because that was the nearest one to your house.

"I'm not drinking paracetamol."

"Yes you are."

"I'd rather drink Ibuprofen."

"Don't have."

You groaned again, putting the tea on the chair and started complaining about how you hate paracetamol and how you preferred other pills such as ibuprofen. But Izana didn't listen to you. He knew you weren't allergic to the pill but just were being bratty, so he put the pill in his mouth, confusing you, and pressing your lips together, passing the paracetamol in your mouth. He was about to give you cup of water but you swallowed the pill without one. "You might get sick too!" you scolded him but Izana just smirked at you. "Well, you'd have to blame yourself for being a brat then."

You frowned but were too tired to argue with him so you let this one pass. He gave you cup of tea again. "Now drink this all up before I decide to use the same method." You scoffed, giving him a dirty look.

Brats surely annoyed Izana but seeing you acting like one was more or less amusing to him.

♡♡♡

I hope you are satisfied with this! Sorry that it took quite long for me to post😭

[dilvuc]

╰┈ chapter i. | reason.

𝐍euvillette led the pyro dragon into the city. The pyro dragon never realized that the whole place was rebuilt again after he caused destruction while battling Neuvillette. The chief of justice could feel eyes on him, mostly on [Y]. Probably because he…wait…

“Pardon me, but…are you not wearing anything under that cloak?” Neuvillette asked [Y]. The [h] flame haired male responded, “This is my first time in this form, so why should I wear clothes like you moron?”

“...” Neuvillette sighed with disappointment. “Perhaps, giving you a bath before you could put on some clothes.”

“Hot bath. I've heard about the boiling lake, so I wanna go there.” [Y] said, crossing his arms. The chief of justice placed his hand on his hip, “There's a place you can bathe. It has hot water. I cannot understand how you bathe in something so…boiled.”

“I can bathe in magma, too. It gives me power.” the taller male stated.

“You have such odd hobbies…”

“Say the one who does water tasting.”

Neuvillette allowed the taller male to take a bath at his place. He has already shown the male which to use to scrub himself off with and left some clothes for him to wear while waiting.

“I sure hope he didn't burn my washroom…” Neuvillette mumbled, taking a sip of his tea. His tea was unfortunately spilled on him when the taller male barged in his office.

“Is this how you wear clothes now? It's too tight around my chest…” [Y] gritted his teeth while tugging on his collar.

Neuvillette noticed that the pyro dragon’s chest was exposed and it seems the clothes were giving the taller male a hard time. The hydro dragon walked over to [Y] and loosened his collar a bit for him to breathe, “You pulled the strings too tight. Best if you loosen it a bit.”

“Geez. How are you used to this?” [Y] deadpanned as Neuvillette patted his chest to dust it off.

“Do not worry about it. You are prepared.” Neuvillette said before grabbing a tailcoat that matched the pyro dragon scheme color then helped him put them on. “There, you look like a Fontaine citizen, Monsieur [Y].”

“Such a weird name…” [Y] mumbled.

“Please remember to follow the law or you'll be put on court.” Neuvillette warned the taller male.

“I don't know anything about how those humans live…” the [h] haired male grumbled, ruffing his hair.

“Please extinguish your hair. It could cause flames.” Neuvillette said.

“It's not hot. It only burns things when I'm angry…” [Y] told the hydro dragon, fiddling with his long fire hair.

Curious, Neuvillette wanted to touch the hair. He gently caressed the male’s hair and to his shock, it didn't burn his hand. It was just warm. No burn.

“I see. It'll be easier to fix your hair.” Neuvillette hummed, rubbing his chin. A melusine peek into the office, grabbing Neuvillette’s attention. “Oh, Menthe. Do you need anything?”

“Monsieur Neuvillette.” Menthe’s eyes lit up before noticing the taller male. “A-ah. Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“No need. I was just planning to fix Monsieur [Y]’s hair.” Neuvillette replied. This grabs the other melusines’ interests when the chief of justice mentions about the taller male’s hair.

“You don't mind if we could do Monsieur [Y]’s hair?” One of the melusine asked.

“What are they? Your children?” [Y] questioned. The pyro dragon won't admit it, but he has a huge soft spot for kids.

“They're melusine. They're with me. There's this law where you refer to her as she/her and not it. They're not a thing. I warn you to not harm them.” Neuvillette warned the taller male. [Y] glanced at the melusine before letting out a soft sigh, “What do you children suggest? Haven't done my hair in years.”

The hydro dragon was a little caught by surprise at the pyro dragon’s action to the melusine. He didn't look at them in disgust or see them as cursed monsters. [Y] is a pyro dragon, why would he see them as monsters?

The taller male seated on a chair, allowing the melusine to do as they please with his hair. Neuvillette watched as the melusine surrounded the male and did his hair.

“Back during our duel, he always has such a cold-hearted look. Seeing him like this now, it feels different…” Neuvillette thought to himself as a melusine grabbed a red ribbon from her pocket and tied it to [Y]’s hair. “Perhaps, he wants to rest for a while…?”

The taller male’s hair was braided with a red ribbon attracted to the bottom of his braid. [Y] checked himself in the mirror. He has never seen himself look so clean and his hair makes him look like a different person.

“Do you like it?” Menthe asked. It only lasted like a split second until [Y] finally responded, “Of course. I like it very much. Thank you. I hope next time you all do my hair.”

The melusine smiled fondly, feeling happy that they got to do the hair of someone they just met. Neuvillette quietly chuckled, knowing how happy his daughters are to do someone's hair.

“Thank you, ladies. Me and Monsieur [Y] will be heading out for a walk.” Neuvillette smiled at the girls.

“Yes, Monsieur Neuvillette. Bye-bye, Monsieur [Y].” The melusine waved the taller male bye. [Y] waved back as the girls left.

Neuvillette closes the door and turns to the taller male with a smile, much to [Y]’s confusion. The pyro dragon asked, “Why are you staring at me like that? What's with that smile?”

“Hahaha…Nothing, I'm just surprised you actually let the little ones do as they please without a problem.” Neuvillette chuckled.

“They are innocent beings. Why wouldn't I let them?” [Y] questioned, fiddling with his braid carefully not to accidentally unbraid them. “I may be serving under the god of war, but I protect the innocents. I caused destruction to your nation, but I carefully did it so as not to harm the citizens.”

“...No one was killed during our duel. They're only left with minor or major injuries.” Neuvillette said. “It's good to know you're not as heartless as I thought you were.”

“Same goes for you. You rarely show much emotion, however it wasn't hard to tell.” [Y] told the hydro dragon. “During our battle, you were crying, weren't you?”

“And what makes you think that?” Neuvillette inquired.

“It was raining every time we had our battle. There's this rhythm from children: ‘Hydro dragon, hydro dragon. Don't cry.’  You were crying.” [Y] explained. There were no tears in Neuvillette’s eyes, but the rain was enough to tell that the hydro dragon was sad. “Whatever makes you cry, you'll get better. Which is the reason why I wanted to end the battle between the hydro dragon and pyro dragon and create a bond. I'm not a cold hearted person as you think I am.”

“...!” Neuvillette was a little taken back by the male's words. Was he really heartbroken during that time against the pyro dragon? How could that be? A former enemy of his was worried about his well-being. No wonder the battle didn't happen 400 years ago.

“You were…worried about my well-being.” Neuvillette whispered. He then cleared his throat to change the subject. “...Ahem. Now that we have a truce, we should start our bonding. I have so much to teach you, but there are still things I need to learn about humans.”

╭      ⁞ ❏. facts

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y] is dark-skinned since he's from natlan(sorry to those who are white chocolate)

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y] allowed children to play with his dragon form just to make them happy

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y]’s hair can extinguish during the rain, but that doesn't mean he will go bald

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y] actually have bad eyesight but won't admit it

previous.

next.

amazing [y] artwork by my dearest friend: th3_unkn0wvn on instagram

[lightsovermonaco]

Wedding Date, Part 1 (Pato O'Ward)

an: requests and comments always welcome! There will be at least two more parts to this series.

wc: 4900

Summary: Pato is in need of a wedding date, desperately. Despite hating him, and despite him knowing it, he asks you to be his date and you agree.

"I need a date to this wedding next weekend."

"So? Take your sister." You don't bother to look up from the magazine you flip through. Pato is always in need of a date for something and he always takes his sister. If she's busy, he'll take his mother, or a cousin, or another relative until he's exhausted all options. You're not entirely sure why he's pacing in his trailer now like a caged beast, because even if by some rarity they were all busy, there's a slew of women around the paddock that would jump at the chance to go with him... just not you.

Your distaste of Pato began long before you were ‘promoted’ to the glamorous role of being his pseudo-handler. His flirtatious personality, womanizing one liners and general flippant humor surrounding racing rubs you the wrong way. Racing is a serious business and should be treated as such. It's his lifeblood, not a hobby. Some days you question his dedication, honestly- but voicing said opinions isn't your place. 

Oh, and women. He loves women, too. And the occasional man- You don’t judge him on that front, but god would it kill him to be discreet?

Besides- he's so loud, physically as well as mentally. Being around Pato drains your social battery quicker than a meeting with Zac Brown, and that's saying something. All the Mexican driver does is yap- and not in the fun, gossipy way that people do with their friends.  

In short, you cannot stand the man and would rather walk a mile over hot coals than spend an unnecessary minute with him. 

However, unfortunately for you, your exemplary ability to separate your personal feelings from your work made you the prime candidate for being an assistant. If you had to pinpoint the core tenet of your day to day life, it was the importance of separating church and state; wherein this case, the church is a race track and the state is yourself. People like that apparently, because multiple of your colleagues recommended you for your current role when the job opened up. 

Cue your transition to being Pato's personal therapist slash coordinator slash problem solver. 

Pato scoffs and throws his hands up like a child denied their favorite treat, "so she's busy. And last time I took her to a wedding, she made me leave so early I didn't even get cake! It was horrible.”

"Honestly, from what I heard that's not her fault. Who waits until eleven pm to serve the wedding cake?"

Pato pauses, his half undone race suit swaying slightly at the waist as he turns to wag a finger at you "Someone who doesn't want to interrupt the party, that's who. We were all out on the dance floor, having fun and enjoying ourselves!” You roll your eyes, but Pato either doesn't notice or doesnt care as he continues, “And I'm getting kinda sick of having her at every event... she likes to steal the spotlight."

"Here we go," you mumble, flipping the page and preparing for a long winded Pato-themed rant. 

“I love her, but when I'm the one that's invited in the first place I don't want to leave early. I want to enjoy it, you know? This is Felix's wedding, I want to bring someone fun… hey!” Pato snaps his fingers and turns to you with wide eyes and a grin that has you instantly on edge. You know that face; it means he's got a wild idea, particularly one that requires your assistance to complete. 

“Who am I messaging,” you deadpan as you pull out your phone. No doubt there's some obscure influencer that he's set his eyes on. It'll be up to you then to set up the date (using Pato's Instagram of course, to which you have full access), arrange her flights, ensure her dress is suitable so as to not cause a scandal, and secure two hotel rooms for however long Pato decides his holiday should be. 

“No one! No one- I was just thinking…” Pato’s eyes twinkle like stars. He rolls his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he contemplates his request, until finally he says, “why don't you come with me?”

You choke on air at the absurd suggestion. A million reasons flood your mind: because it's unprofessional and because you'd rather endure nails scraping on a chalkboard until the end of time to name a few. 

“I'm not hearing a no,” Pato sing-songs as his stupid grin grows wider and wider. 

“No!” You would like to tell him to fuck off, but your self respect keeps you from doing so. “Where the hell did that insane idea come from-”

“Come on,” Pato holds his hands out in front of him like a beggar in search of pocket change. “Come with me! I'll pay for whatever dress you pick out, the hotel room, flights, everything. I'll take care of it all. Who knows,” Pato shrugs then, the corner of his mouth lifting again in a devilish smile. “Maybe you'll even have fun.”

“Uh, no. Hell no. Even if it wasn't completely unprofessional, I would lose my mind before we even got on a plane. So thanks, but no thanks to being your fake date.”

Pato throws his hands up, the action causing his black fireproofs to come free of his race suit and expose an inch or two of his stomach. Not that you notice. Or care. “Oh come on! Am I really that horrible to be around?”

“Yes,” you respond without looking up from your phone. You make a note on your calendar to have Pato's mental sanity checked before the end of the break, because clearly the music city GP has knocked something loose in his head. 

“I'll give you my race bonus next time I score points.”

That finally gives you pause. You've seen those checks, even deposited them on his behalf once or twice. Tempting, very tempting. Possibly enticing enough for you to throw all thoughts of work-life balance out the window and commit to a few days of torture.

“Can I get that offer in writing?”

**********

“This is insane.” Despite the excessive force you exert on your suitcase, you can't zip the damn thing shut. You've tried sitting on it, rearranging twice, and removing a few things that you decided you don't absolutely need. Maybe the stubborn luggage is the first of many bad omens, the start of the bad luck you've brought upon yourself by accepting Pato's bargain. Perhaps the wisest thing to do is to call him and cancel, even if doing so at the last minute makes you a bit of an ass. 

But doing so would mean you miss an all inclusive, all expenses paid trip to Copenhagen, and who could pass that up? You've never stepped foot outside the Midwest, let alone outside of the country. Passing up an opportunity like this seems wasteful. Anyone else would jump at the opportunity. You shouldn’t let your dislike of the man supplying the credit card stop you from enjoying something.

“Fucking hell,” you mumble under your breath. You can't change your mind now, not after Pato's bought you a dress that's more expensive than the one you wore to your senior prom. The guilt of leaving him to fend for himself and arrive at his best mate's wedding dateless would eat you alive. And besides, you are not returning the dress you picked out. 

“One more go. If I can't get this dumb thing closed in the next three minutes, I won't go.” You tip your head towards the ceiling, “hear that? Three minutes!” 

Your aimless skyward shout is answered by your upstairs neighbor, who stamps their foot. “Ah- sorry Miss. Underwood!” The cranky old woman that lives above you has reported you more than once for bogus reasons; you would rather not have to deal with the front office before your international trip. 

Someone, somewhere must have heard your plea and responded with much more grace than Miss. Underwood, because the suitcase zips closed near effortlessly on your next attempt. “Aha! Finally! God, that was close.”

A message pops up on your phone with near poetic timing, coming not a second after you've dramatically wiped your brow and dusted off your hands. 

I'm leaving now, should be there in about a half hour. You ready?

The idea of riding in a car with Pato alone sounds less ideal than following his strict diet for a single day. Reminding yourself that this is a professional weekend away in Europe and not a personal venture is enough to settle your nerves for now. You can be professional, no problem. Easy peasy.

Yep. I'm still fine with an Uber if you don't want to drive me.

Too late I made up my mind :) see you soon!

“Insufferable.” Dread sets in where excitement lived earlier. You aren't a hundred percent sure you can survive four days with Pato O'Ward in a foreign country. Your limits will be tested, that much you know for sure because you can count on Pato to push every available button you have in order to get a rise out of you. 

Opting for a balance between comfort and style, a simple pair of black leggings and an oversized vintage indy 500 sweater is your preferred travel outfit. Your hair you leave in your usual casual style, not bothering to put in the effort to do anything special with it when it'll likely be ruined by the time you touch down in Copenhagen. 

Pato knocks when he arrives, which seems far too polite to be correct. Part of you expected him to barge in unannounced and make your one bedroom apartment his own. “Hola bella,” he greets with a smile. His hands stay in his pockets. He doesn't invite himself in, despite you leaving the door wide open when you step away to grab your things. 

Interesting. 

“You can come in,” you call over your shoulder. “I have to finish packing up my makeup since you're here early.”

“Oh, yeah sorry. Traffic was lighter than I expected.” It’s odd seeing Pato in anything that isn’t papaya colored or decorated with some sort of racing logo. He wears a forest green hoodie with a little red heart in the center with a pair of matching sweats. It’s one of those outfits that seems cringe on the average person, but works infuriatingly well on Pato.

Pato doesn't venture further into your apartment than the three steps that are required for him to be able to close the door without it hitting him. You purse your lips and motion to the sofa as your hosting instinct takes over, “you can sit if you want. I should only be a few minutes.”

“Take your time, our flight doesn't leave for a few hours. No rush.” You hate it when Pato tips his head and smiles like that because for a split second every time you hate him a little bit less. Thankfully, it all comes back in full force when he looks away from you. 

Despite Pato’s reassurance you do rush, because the idea of him scrutinizing your place is mortifying. Like, ‘oh fuck me I forgot to wear pants to the board meeting' level of embarrassing to know that he’s out there judging your decor or wondering how you’ve shoved so much into such a tiny one bedroom apartment. Sure, it's small, but it's home and you couldn't imagine living anywhere else. While a bigger place might be nice someday, your paychecks remind you to keep your dreams in check on a biweekly basis. 

To be safe and avoid giving Pato time to linger, you sweep the contents of your vanity into a zippered bag and stuff it into your carry on. You do a final cursory lap through the attached bathroom to ensure all hair dryers, candle warmers, and taps are turned off or unplugged. Once satisfied, you drag your overweight suitcase out. 

“Okay, I think I'm ready.” 

Pato stands in your living room checking out the knock off vintage style race posters that decorate the walls. As expensive as authentic race memorabilia is, you can’t exactly afford to spend hundreds on a single slip of paper for the sake only of hanging it on a wall. Only one poster is real and that is the poster you purchased from the first race you were trackside for with Arrow. Pato points to that one with a cheeky grin, “that's the first race you worked with us, isn't it? I remember that being the first time I saw you on track.” 

“Yes, it was. Now can we go?” You shift on your feet, uncomfortable now that Pato is seeing a side of you that you don't normally share with anyone but your close friends and family. Heaven forbid he notices the family photos on the lower shelf, then you'll be mortified when he laughs at how silly you looked in your Halloween costumes when you were little. 

“Oh yeah, of course. I'm sure you're excited to get a move on!” Pato reaches for your suitcase which catches you off guard. You snatch the handle before he can. “I can help, I really don’t mind. You’re doing me a favor after all.”

Your stubborn independence does not allow you to accept unnecessary help, so you shake your head. “Sorry,” you mumble as your cheeks heat. “I can take care of it.” 

“Alright, note to self… don't be too polite or it'll set you off.” Pato winks, then holds the door for you as you both exit. He waits at the stairs while you lock up, then leads the way to the Mercedes parked at the curb. 

“Right, just the one suitcase? You've got your dress packed in here right?” Pato hefts the suitcase into the car and grins. “Actually I know the answer to that. I told you that you could've spent more on a dress. A hundred dollars? That's it?”

“I don't like wasting money,” you snap. “To some of us, that's expensive.” 

Money has been, and always will be, a touchy subject. Growing up with very little means that you now scrutinize every penny, only spending regularly on things that are strictly necessary. Your budget each month is airtight and you are always careful to save a fair amount before you so much as consider treating yourself to something off your wishlist. 

Pato holds up his hands in apology. “Wasn't trying to insult you, just trying to make conversation. You're doing me a favor here so I just wanted to make sure you got what you wanted.” 

“Right, sure.” Spinning the ring on your left index finger has become somewhat of a nervous tick for you. Pato’s eyes flick to your hands, which immediately sets you on edge. Racing drivers are an observant breed, which is something you silently curse the universe for. 

The ride to the airport is filled with awkward silences. The quiet is broken by the sound of the engine and the occasional directive from the gps on the dash. Pato’s playlist is a mix of spanish and english and you willfully ignore when he occasionally sings along under his breath. So you keep quiet with your attention locked on your phone to avoid being dragged into any small talk. 

The plane ride is more of the same: quiet and tense. Which is partially because despite you insisting on a simple, affordable coach ticket, Pato had ignored your wishes and booked both of you in business class. At least the long flight would be comfortable if nothing else. Granted it would be more enjoyable if you weren't sitting next to a five-foot-something racing driver, but beggars can't be choosers. 

“It's a long flight, so I thought I'd give you the window. The sun will be coming up when we're over Europe, and the view is always to die for. I got us seats on the left side of the plane so you can have the best photo opportunities.” 

That's the second time today that Pato has surprised you, though you would rather eat soap than admit that to his face. “I usually like the aisle, but thanks I guess. I'll probably be sleeping anyway.” 

Pato's expression is one of regret, like maybe he's realizing how insane of an idea this is. “Err, right. I guess I should've known that, considering how often we fly together.”

“We don't fly together. When we have to fly to a race, you fly business class and I sit in the back with the rest of the regular people,” you remind him without remorse. You hate when he throws his wealth in your face, like the seat you're occupying doesn't cost a month's worth of your salary. 

“Right…” 

You almost feel bad. But then you remember that Pato has everything he could ever want or need, and you’re right back to where you started. 

Despite how well you think you hide it, Pato is fully aware of your feelings toward him, or rather lack thereof. Where the relationships you nurture with your other colleagues are fun and friendly, the one you maintain with Pato is strictly professional. Seeing you pivot from laughing with Rossi- Rossi of all people- one minute, to relaying instructions to him in a mechanical voice is evidence enough of how little you think of him. 

Pato has no idea why you're so set on hating him. He has no inkling what he might have done to deserve such animosity. It seems like no matter what he does, your frosty attitude only worsens into an arctic chill. He thought that bringing you on this trip might open your eyes to the other side of him, that maybe allowing you to see what he was like outside of the track could prove to you that he wasn’t the devil that you thought he was. 

So far, no dice. You declined his invitation to join him for breakfast at the highest rated cafe in the city this morning, so he'd gone alone instead and relished the fact that not a single person asked him for a photo or shoved a scrap of paper in his face for him to sign. Once in a while it was nice to fly under the radar, to pass by hundreds of people on the street and have them be none the wiser to his achievements. 

The concept of downtime is foreign to Pato. Being alone and unbothered gave him time to ruminate, which is why he generally preferred to surround himself with a certain level of chaos. In the paddock, that generally meant entertaining himself and others by being the class clown. Cameras are everywhere on a race weekend, watching him like a bug under a magnifying glass, so he generally humored them by putting on a bit of a show. In his personal life, the chaos came from the frequent visits to his hometown where he would be surrounded by family and pets that kept him on his toes. 

Now that he has had time to reflect, Pato is beginning to see the foolishness in his impulsive decision. Asking you to be his date was arguably up there with the dumbest things he's ever done, and that's saying something considering he'd once poured honey in Rossi's boots on a race weekend. He understands now, at least partially, why you were hesitant to accept. 

It doesn't bother him, the fact that you can't stand him. Pato enjoys poking you, seeing how far he can press before you snap at him. It's his way of flirting because yes, he thinks you're gorgeous. There's no point denying it so he might as well embrace it. Perhaps his invitation was wholly selfish, his way of trying to cope with the offseason and knowing he likely wouldn’t be seeing you for weeks at a time. You would miss him as little as one might miss the sticky summer humidity, while Pato would miss you like the sun misses the moon. 

Which is fine. It's fine if you don't laugh at his jokes. It's fine if your lip curls like you've smelt rotten milk whenever he speaks and you don't think he's looking. It’s fine that you don’t spare him a second of your attention, even now when he’s brought you on a trip that he thought could be the start of some positive change. That's all fine, because it doesn't matter if you like him or not. 

Okay, on second thought, maybe it does bother him a little. 

If anything, Pato hopes that this weekend will be the start of you at least tolerating him. Salvaging a scrap of understanding from you cannot be impossible, and even if it were, Pato has defied the odds numerous times before. No one believed in him when he was coming up through the karting ranks, but he did. And he believes in himself now, that he can begin to alter your opinion of him one small gesture at a time. 

Pato unlocks his phone to message you. 

Do you have plans today? I was gonna go to a few museums and see the sights if you wanna join. Up to you!

He debates for a minute about the exclamation mark. Is it too in your face? Too cheery or forceful? Eventually he deletes it before hitting send. Better to sound nonchalant than overdo it. 

His phone remains face down on the table until he finishes his tea. Seeming too eager could be his downfall and he is determined to make this seem as casual as possible. Only once an appropriate amount of time has passed does he allow himself to read your response: sure. I guess so but I don't want to blow my entire budget in one day just fyi

That's fair, dw a lot of it is free!

I'll be ready in an hour 

An hour, Pato can keep himself busy for an hour. Popping in an earbud and exploring for a bit seems like a decent option; he spends thirty minutes listening to music and just walking with no real aim in mind. Once back at the hotel, just on time as per usual, he freshens up in his room. 

Bare bones and necessities is what Patp prefers when he travels. He doesn't like the pomp and circumstance that comes along with a suite; the hotel staff treat him differently when he stays in the expensive rooms even if they haven't the faintest clue who he is. He prefers unassuming, single bed rooms that are no fuss, no muss. And that sort of room is exactly what he booked himself in Copenhagen: low nightly rate, plain but clean white bed sheets, and a bathroom barely big enough to turn around in. 

The room Pato picked for you was this room's opposite. The queen suite was available on the website when he made the last minute reservation and he had not seen any reason not to treat you to a taste of luxury for the weekend. Silk sheets, a fully decorated sitting room, and walk in waterfall shower were only the tip of the iceberg. Included in the weekend rate was a night at the in-house spa if you chose to use it. And while Pato is quite certain you won't bother, he thinks the choice might be nice nonetheless.

Pato had selected that room without a second thought and gone as far as requesting your favorite drinks be stocked up in the suite fridge for your arrival. Since arriving last night, you haven't mentioned the room. Which doesn't matter, because Pato doesn't need the praise; in fact, kind words would feel slightly out of place from you. 

The elevator takes Pato to the top floor, where he finds your room at the end of the hall. It's not hard to find, considering there's three doors in the entire hallway. Pato knocks twice, then steps back to wait. 

“Yeah, coming,” comes your muffled call from inside. The brass room number plate on the door reflects a slightly distorted version of Pato. He can't make a decent impression looking wonky with his hair a mess; how unattractive is hair that stands up on end in every which way? Pato runs his fingers through his hair to loosen up the extra putty he'd applied. The door opens suddenly and you catch him red handed, one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone. 

Perfect.

“I guess I'm never escaping the vanity accusations huh?” Pato's laugh is shaky, awkward even to his own ears. He drops his hands and does his best not to let his gaze wander over you, as tempting as it is. He's determined to make a good impression this weekend, and blatantly checking you out probably wouldn't help his case. 

“Nope, never.” You shake your head and let the oak door click shut behind you. “Well then, you're the man with the plan. Have you been to Copenhagen before or are you just going to the typical tourist places?”

“Hold on, hold on. I think that's the most you've ever said to me at once that wasn't work related. I need a second to process this- you have a personality? This is big news!” Pato grins, hoping to ease into things. He knows it's bad when you don't immediately return the smile. 

Pato doesn't really tend to think around you,  hence the near constant shitty jokes. His brain takes a break from its normal high strung, ping ponging thoughts and empties itself of unnecessary noise. When in your presence, Pato is unfiltered and unapologetically himself. 

When you started at McLaren, he quickly learned that you were safe. Judgment was not something you leveled lightly upon someone. Your prickly exterior was a way of ensuring you don't let the wrong people get close enough to hurt you, but Pato knows that's not all of it. Regardless of how you presented yourself to the world, Pato knows you care deeply for those you choose to include in your life. He also knows you'll always be there when he fails, a steady shoulder for him to lean on- which is more than he can say about many of his previous driver assistants. 

Being comfortable is freeing, but it also gets him in trouble with you more often than he would like. Judging by your current deadpan, he's qualified deadlast as far as ‘appropriately timed humor’ is concerned. “That was a joke,” Pato says after a pause that stretches for an eternity.”

“I am aware that was your attempt at being funny.” You cross your arms and Pato notes the tiny papaya indy car embroidered on the cuff of your cream sweater. “Has anyone ever told you that you're insufferable? You know what, on second thought maybe I'll just stay here.” 

All at once, Pato flies through fear, regret and guilt in the half second it takes you to turn towards the door. He fucks everything up, doesnt he? Gets a good thing going for once, finally convinces you to spend some one on one time with him, and he winds up spilling the marbles. This isn't racing; he can't act on instinct and expect the best outcome. He has to be calculated, hold his tongue and not speak until he's sure the words are the one he wants to say. 

“No wait.” Pato’s fingers brush your arm to stop you. “Look, I'm just trying to be sure you enjoy your time here. I've never been here before,” he adds in answer to your earlier question. “I'm as much of a tourist as you are, so having an exploration partner would be good.” 

“I don't really feel like doing anything with you if you're going to be a dick. No, let me speak,” you say when he opens his mouth. “No macho bullshit alright? Just be normal. I don't need all the bravado and the jokes that make me feel like shit. Just… be Pato, alright? Be yourself for once.”

Pato knows he deserves all that and more. You let him off easy, really. He's been focused on creating a persona instead of being real with you. So Pato nods, centering himself like Rossi taught him last season. Once he feels like himself again some handful of breaths later, he offers you a genuine smile. 

“Let me start again. They have an aquarium here,” Pato says, voice light. Without willing it, a half smile appears on his lips when you tip your head ever so slightly, indicating for him to continue. “I love aquariums, sea otters are my favorite animal. And the jellyfish are cute too! With their squishy bodies and the tentacles-”

There he goes again, his mouth racing a lap ahead of his good sense. Pato's apologetic wince isn't a proper apology, but you accept it nonetheless and throw him a bone that he'll happily chew on. 

“I like aquariums. That sounds like it could be fun.”

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Happy Birthday Charlie!

It's @sentientcave's birthday, and I wanted to F I N A L L Y do an author rec for him!

Name: Charlie (He/They) Links!: Twitter - AO3 - Ko-fi

My Favorite: Retirement Party Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You. (Dark fic! Read the content warnings)

Runner Up: Heavy Weighs the Crown Fantasy AU - A princess in self-imposed exile is forced to come home to face the man who took her father's crown and the life she left behind. 141 x Reader.

Runner Up to the Runner Up: Hit Me With Your Best Shot When Rory "Scout" Price moves in with her dad after a rough break-up, she's looking forward to reconnecting while she gets her feet back under her. But unfortunately, a post-divorce Kyle Garrick is moving in too, and he seems determined to be a pain in the ass. But then again, he is kind of hot.

Favorite Not Yet Posted Story:

EVERYTHING

WITH

RIPPER

AKA The Rugby AU (I'm working on a Kinktober Prompt with Ripper in it and I know I'm overthinking it but I want Charlie to like it so so so bad it makes me stupid.)

Why I recommend: It's long, so it'll go under the cut.

Where do I even start?

Every reader character and OC invites you to explore what makes them tick. They're flawed, and because they're flawed, they're good. They're real. And they're diverse, lovingly and intentionally. It's clear that Charlie does the research to intentionally write about experiences outside of his own. (Y'all... he researched Philippine Spanish for Retirement Party. For a conversation with a side character. The stars in my eyes...)

Charlie loves the complexities of these characters. Their ups, their downs, their triumphs and their failures. I don't think I've ever rooted for and hated and loved and wanted to strangle Captain John Price like I do when Charlie writes him. There's no glossing over the fact that Price is an asshole with Charlie. But there's no mistaking that he cares, either (in his awful, terrible, patented John Price ways).

I've grown so much as a writer for the conversations I've been able to have with Charlie. My understanding of the 141 is deeper, not just when it comes to cannon, but also what makes them tick in my stories. I'm so excited to explore the world of Being Gaz's Ex, which was directly inspired by the way Charlie writes Price in Nobody Does it Better. It's the way Price loves and it isn't enough and how sometimes it's okay that that's not okay.

Every time Charlie shares a bit of writing with me, I lose a little bit of my mind. And I hope that you all will appreciate Charlie with me, today!

[thelittleliars]

Hen's Den | Farmer Natasha Universe

Farmer!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Words: 901

AN: What's up? This is the first of many stories (all of them will most likely be shortish) in the Farmer Natasha Romanoff Universe!

You are in the Chicken's Coop when your wife Natasha calls for you. "Babe? Honey where are you?"

"In the Hen's den!" You shout back, trying not to yell as you don't want to frighten the chickens. Natasha soon comes in, you have to take a double look at her since she looks crazy hot in her overalls and plaid shirt underneath.

"Hey, whatcha doing in here?" She asks you since it's not the usual time for any of you to be in here. Since the Hen's don't lay their eggs all at the same time, you normally wait until noon to collect the eggs. 

"Henrietta and Dorothy were bickering over a spot to lay theirs eggs, even though that's Nugget's spot." You explain.

"The ladies really are keeping you on your toes huh. I also still can't believe you named her Nugget!" She says in disbelieve which makes you smile. You shrug before you teasingly take a jab at her. "You couldn't come up with a better name. That's on you."

Natasha gasps and pretends to be insulted. "Y/N Romanoff stop being mean to your wife!"

"How was that mean?" She gives you that ONE stern look. "Alright, I'm sorry hunny. But it's also just the truth! Anyways to get into your good grace again. You look absolutely fantastic. Do you have time for me to make it up to you?" You smirk at your wife while constantly checking her out by looking her up and down. A blush appears on her cheeks, she's still not used to be looked at like this from you. 

"I love where this is going. Unfortunately I don't have time." She starts. "The reason why I even came looking for you was to tell you I'm off to the farmers market."

You grab her overall and pull her closer to you. "Well firstly, you know you don't have to wear the stereotype clothes to the market right? Secondly, you could take some time to have fun with me first and then go later."

"These clothes are very comfortable so I won't change. And also as much as I love your offer, I really need to go and bring all the money we can get home." You sigh in adoration while warmness blooms through your body. "Truthfully, that's so sexy of you and I'm jealous that all the girls and boys and everyone in between is gonna fawn over you." 

"If that's gonna make me sell more then good." She grins at you. But it wasn't just a simple grin, no it was one shit eating grin that has teasing and mocking written all over it. 

"I'm not so sure if it's so good for my ego." You continue with the playfulness. 

"You're married to me. You shouldn't be worried about that." She says. "Plus nobody but my wife will ever see what's underneath this sexy outfit yeah?" Her words turn you all mushy and hot inside. Is there anything better than hearing your wife calling you her wife and basically claim you as fully hers? "Are you sure you don't have a couple minutes left? You always get me so worked up." Natasha likes you this whiny and worked up. Not only is it a bit of fun but it also gives her all the butterflies again. 

"Later." She winks. "And don't even dare to think about getting off on your own." 

"Leaving me high and dry and dictate me what I can't do? Tsk, Romanoff you know for sure that I won't listen to a single word you just said. Plus, that threat is as empty as your promise to test out that new toy we brought on our vacation months ago." Now your redheaded wife is pouting at you, it makes her look even younger than she is. You wanted to give in and tell her you'll listen but you knew her game way too well. When she sees that you won't budge she stops pouting but goes into the direction of teasing you even further. "Maybe I wanted to get you to a point you're so frustrated that it'll be fucking mind blowing once we test it out."

"Tasha goddammit." You curse out. Sometimes you hate her for it but it's only fleeting since you could never truly hate the love of your life. She squeezes your biceps. "Later, I promise."

You nod and shake off all your thoughts. There are a million other things to think about. "Talking about promises... promise me you'll get your fine ass home with some apple pie from the Jenkins?" 

She leans in to kiss you slow and deep. "For you? Always my love." It's almost sickening how much you love her and how much she still affects you to date. "You're always so seductive babe." She shakes her head, not believing a word you say. "How? I'm simply being me?"

"Exactly." You say before she decides to kiss you again. This time though the kiss is so gentle that you think you'd die from her softness. "Have a great day babe." Natasha says before she peaks your lips to steal another kiss. 

"You too my love." You say, still swooning over her. She goes away while you stand there in a trance she put you in. It isn't until Henrietta & Dorothy start clucking that brings you back to help smoothing out their fighting. 

Taglist: @romanoffprentiss , @flositaa , @dumdasslesbi , @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid , @b0ng05 , @mal-germanotta

[elkkiel]

Regarding ST's merch, I think it's really obvious quality wise what merch the boys had a direct hand in and what merch is just RCA slapping ST's name and logo on something because they know it'll sell. The figurine and the constant HT/Spencer's drops scream RCA just trying to make a buck.

I think the big thing we can do as fans, or in this case consumers, is just be really picky about what merch we actually buy. Let sales numbers and the market talk for us ig (ew capitalism, but unfortunately that's how this works)

Things like the graphic novel? Hell yeah, support the shit out of that! We're out here Obtaining new, original stories made in collaboration with the band themselves, AND supporting art that aligns with the band's previously-curated brand image. Throw your money at that or hype it up online, since that's what we REALLY want to see from them. (even if it's too $$$ for many people. But, I get the sense that they wouldn't mind the pdf being shared with other fans lol. You can't tell me those nerds haven't read pirated manga/comics/books online before)

The low quality, soulless Licensed Products keep on coming because there's apparently a market for them. People will buy it just because it's ST, not because it's actually worth the money. As if it'll bring any value to their experience with the band. How many fans actually want a fuckin lava lamp, or any assortment of the hot topic merch that's just Vessel's face cheaply screenprinted on the front?

I think there's a lot of hype and market potential for their brand and likeness right now, and—for a corporate entity—it makes sense to flood the market like fucking Atlantic with whatever merch will sell. Voting with your wallet really does help. Not buying into the obvious cash-grab merch produces data that tells marketers that we're tired of it. It produces trend reports which indicate their current merch practices are becoming unprofitable to continue (oh, the horrors!)

Idk like I said last night, there seems to be a big disconnect between the band's history of being very selective with aesthetics/design, and whatever is going on right now. Personally, I'd much rather wallow in despair over sleeping through a relatively rare merch drop during European daylight hours. Because then at least the drop feels worth it, and fans who were able to buy merch will have a better, higher quality experience that actually aligns with their brand. Literally anything other than what we're seeing from them right now.

Sorry I just woke up not too long ago, so this might not read very clearly. I want to see my boys succeed and make a living off their art as much as anyone else, but surely there's a better way to support them.

[skzstannie]

Seonghwa x fem!idol!reader where they try to keep their relationship secret but fail miserably? Take ur time mwa mwa!!

"Well, this is really unfortunate"

Ateez OneShot -> SeongHwa x idol!fem!reader

Genre: fluff

cw: none :)

wc: ~2200

Thank you for your patience! I hope this is what you were wanting!

Happy scrolling!

"Well, this is really unfortunate," you scoff at Seonghwa's words, trying to pull your arm up from where it's stuck between the two of your bodies.

"Ya think?" He gives you a breathy chuckle.

"It could be worse, we could be stuck in, like, a port-a-potty or something." He glances up at the ceiling of the supply closet.

"There are literally no circumstances in which I would lock myself into a port-a-potty with another human being," you tell him. Although, not that you'd ever admit this to him, if, and that's a big if, you were ever to be trapped in a port-a-potty with someone, you hope it'd be with him.

"How long do you think we need to stay in here?" He asks, glancing down at you in exhaustion.

"Until the coast is clear, we can't risk it again." He huffs in response, slouching down to rest his head on your shoulder.

So, how'd you get into such a predicament? Well, it all started with you and your boyfriend, Seonghwa, going on a late-night date to the local bowling alley. You've been dating for a good 6 months now, and everything is going swimmingly.

Except for the fact the you have decided to keep your relationship a secret from literally everyone. While you both can keep a secret, you realize it is getting increasingly harder to hide from not only the public, but also each other's members and families.

With a few silly disguises, like Seonghwa's hot pink sunglasses and your baseball cap, you've always been able to stay under the radar when going on dates, and this time was no different.

You guys left the dorms around 8:00 pm, planning to arrive at the bowling alley around 9:00 pm to participate in "cosmic" bowling. Another reason you both felt particularly confident in your disguises for the evening, as it'll be dark, with only black lights to illuminate the building.

You wait in your car in the parking lot, waiting for Seonghwa to text you, letting you know he's here. You look up from your phone upon hearing the blasting music coming from across the street. It appeared to be an outdoor club of sorts, not like anything you've seen before. You look to the left of the entrance and see a large "Grand Opening" sign hanging from the archway. "Hmm, that looks cool. I'll have to take the girls there sometime." You comment to yourself, opening your notes app to add it to your running list of 'Fun places to go'.

You close your notes app, ready to go back to jumping between Instagram, Snapchat, and TikTok, but you receive the text from Seonghwa saying he's parked.

You send him back a quick thumbs up and put your baseball cap on. You step out your decorated Jeep, your back windshield fully decked out in random car stickers you found cute. Your eyes scan the parking lot for your handsome boyfriend, and you spot him near the entrance, expectantly waiting for you.

"Hi jagiya, I've missed you," he walks to meet you, enveloping you in his arms for a tight hug.

"I've missed you more," you protest, squeezing him back. "I suppose we should head in, I'm ready to kick your butt in some cosmic bowling," you joke, elbowing him playfully in the side.

"Oh we'll see about that," he counters, holding the door open for you like the true gentleman he is.

Upon entering, you can already tell it'll be a fun night. With the place relatively empty (probably because of the party going on across the street), you won't have to worry too much about getting caught.

Walking toward the counter where you rent out the lanes, Seonghwa asks you about your week. You haven't seen each other in a about a week and a half due to all the work you're both putting into your new comebacks.

"You know that one sweatshirt I love? The one with the cute panda on the front?" Seonghwa hums, adjusting his grip on your hand. "Well, Ahn had the audacity to spill her coffee all over it the other day." You jokingly huffed. You're indifferent about the situation now that Ahn agreed to buy you a new one, but you still want to share your weekly struggles with your boyfriend. "She's gonna buy me a new one, though, so I forgave her."

"Sounds like the situation worked itself out quite nicely." Always the peacekeeper Seonghwa was.

"Yea, but you're supposed to console me for losing my prized possession. Tell me how great of a person I am for forgiving her." You're obviously being facetious, but it's fun to be dramatic sometimes. Being the oldest member in your group, same as Seonghwa, you're expected to be mature and level-headed. Quite frankly, sometimes you didn't want to be level-headed. Sometimes, you wanted to be able to have silly mental breakdowns about your favorite sweatshirt. It wasn't all bad, being the eldest, that just means you have to go to your boyfriend with all your problems. He doesn't mind in the least. Being the beautiful soul he is, he will console you and your problems any day of the week.

"Oh, my bad," he holds his hands up in surrender before gently grabbing your head with both his hands. He forces your head down to his shoulder, patting your ear. "I'm so sorry, baby. What can I do to help? Do I need to wipe your tears?" He presses a wet, sloppy kiss to the side of your face, making you groan in disgust.

"We're in public, are you being for real right now?" You pull away, looking at him in disbelief.

"There's no one here, it's fine." He brushes you off.

Having finally made it the counter, you both ask for the correct shoe size and Seonghwa pays for your lane. You politely ask for a lane in the back, wanting to have as much privacy as possible, to which the employee happily obliges.

You and Seonghwa make your way to the lane, stopping to grab your choice of bowling ball on the way.

Throughout the night, you guys end up playing three games. You won the first, he won the second, and, not to your surprise, he also wins the third. "Did you go easy on me in the first game?" You question.

"No, I was just warming up," he answers. Grabbing up your and his shoes, looking to return them to the front desk.

"Sure you were," you reply back, rolling your eyes.

Having successfully returned your shoes, you guys start to make your way towards the door. You let out a shriek, however, when Seonghwa suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you into a nearby supply closet.

"What the hell?" You gasp, lightly hitting his shoulder. He's quick to cover your mouth with his hand, shushing you with his other. Your eyebrows furrow, the anger dissipating into confusion.

He mouths, 'Listen,' so you do. He removes his hand from your mouth, and you press your ear to the closet door. Your eyes widen upon hearing the tell-tale cackle of the one and only Wooyoung.

You sigh, wondering how you were going to get out of this situation. You two stand in silence, listening carefully as the loud shouts of Seonghwa's members slowly dissipate to the back of the alley.

"Well, this is really unfortunate," you scoff at Seonghwa's whispered words, trying to pull your arm up from where it's stuck between the two of your bodies.

"Ya think?" He gives you a breathy chuckle.

"It could be worse, we could be stuck in, like, a port-a-potty or something." He glances up at the ceiling of the supply closet.

"There are literally no circumstances in which I would lock myself into a port-a-potty with another human being," you tell him. Although, not that you'd ever admit this to him, if, and that's a big if, you were ever to be trapped in a port-a-potty with someone, you hope it'd be with him.

"How long do you think we need to stay in here?" He asks, glancing down at you in exhaustion.

"Until the coast is clear, we can't risk it again." He huffs in response, slouching down to rest his head on your shoulder.

You check your watch for what feels like the tenth time, seeing only 30 minutes have passed. "I can't stand here much longer," Seonghwa whispers, a slight grimace to his voice, "it feels like my legs are gonna lock out."

"Ok. I mean, we can just make a run for it. We haven't heard them for awhile; they're probably preoccupied anyway." Seonghwa nods, stretching his arms up into the air. "Ready?"

"Yep, let's do this." You grab the door handle and open it slowly, peeking your head out the crack. You see his members on one of the middle lanes, cursing to yourself. 'They'll definitely see us if we're not careful.'

You turn back to Seonghwa, signaling your about to walk out.

You both step out of the closet and begin to stealthily make your way towards the exit.

Unfortunately, Seonghwa still finds his legs asleep, tingling from not moving for so long, and his third step results in the buckling of his knee. Whether he meant for it to be or not, he dramatically drops to the ground, yelping when he uncomfortably lands on his wrist.

Your eyes widen, glancing to his members. Of course, recognizing Seonghwa's voice, they're already staring over in confusion by the time your eyes meet theirs.

"I'm fine," Seonghwa mumbles, standing to his feet. He brushes himself off, and looks up to be met with 7 people he knows all too well.

"I thought you were supposed to be with your grandmother this weekend," Wooyoung calls him out, the rest of his members' expressions ranging from amused smirks to confused pouts.

"Well, I, uh-" Seonghwa stumbles over his words, his neck and ears growing redder by the second.

While you're focused on trying to help Seonghwa explain what's going on, you hear an all too familiar voice come from the front door.

"Ah, Y/N, we knew you were here!" Mina squeals, quickly approaching with the rest of your group members. "We were just hanging out at that club across the street. It's so cool! We have to take you sometime." Your head whips up to them, your mouth dropping at the situation. You see your members tilt their heads as they get closer, recognizing the Ateez members.

"Well, isn't this just great," you give everyone a tight-lipped smile, your shoulders slumping in renounce.

"Don't be mad at us. If you wanted to hideout in bowling alleys without us, next time take the obnoxious stickers off your Jeep. It's so obviously yours." One of your younger members, Juni, known for her sass, responds back.

There's an awkward silence as your members join the semicircle in front of you and Seonghwa. Everyone's looking at you two expectantly, obviously waiting for an explanation.

Knowing Seonghwa gets easily flustered and overwhelmed in these types of situations, being the good girlfriend you are, you decide to take the lead.

"Ok, I guess we owe everyone an explanation." You look to Seonghwa, and he gives you the smallest nod, giving you the go ahead to tell them what's really going on. "We're dating. We've been together for about six months now. Please don't be mad," you finish your confession with an innocent smile, watching everyone's expressions carefully. Some of their jaws drop to the floor, eyes quickly switching between you and Seonghwa, while others (your members and Wooyoung) have an excited look, Wooyoung even going as far as hopping up and down and giggling.

Everyone's expression makes sense, except for the ever-mysterious Jongho. One of his eyebrows is raised, his smile one of amusement. You're not sure of how to interpret his expression. "Everything okay, Jongho?"

"Oh, yea, I've just known about this for months now. I think it's amusing," he chuckles lightly, giving you a genuine smile. "I was wondering when you guys were gonna get caught."

Now it's your turn for your jaw to drop in shock. "How did you find out?" Your accusatory tone fills the air, not entirely believing him.

"It's nothing crazy. I was out to dinner with my mother a few months back, and I saw you two at the restaurant. You weren't exactly hiding that you were together; I think you were even holding hands over the table." He shrugs, giving the two of you a knowing smirk.

You blush at that, realizing there may have been a couple times where you and Seonghwa weren't necessarily the most secretive.

"But what about our disguises? You recognized us even with them?" You question. You never have any fans come up to you in public, so you figured they were good enough at hiding your identity.

"A pair of hot pink sunglasses isn't the greatest disguise. If anything, they actually drew my attention to you guys," he answers, chuckling at your gawking expression.

You turn to Seonghwa and squint your eyes at him, "I've always told you those sunglasses were dumb."

His face blushes deeper, no doubt burning to the touch at this point. "Sorry."