#have fun picking out every little reference in this

[chibishortdeath]

Don’t u hate it when you draw something and then ur like “wow uh no one follows me for this fandom” haha lol anyway

Undertale is a pretty cool game, I may have a favorite character from it uh—

[sysig]

Does this hurt? (Patreon)

Bonus:

I love surfacetable.txt <3

[orokay]

I think one of my faaaavorite parts of doing commissions is seeing all of the art the commissioner sends for references. SO MUCH incredible gorgeous art that they've received from past commissions or drawn themselves and it's really amazing!! And seeing their characters interpreted in different styles!! I love it so much!!

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

-

“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position. 

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood. 

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache. 

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish. 

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income. 

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air. 

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him. 

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss. 

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic. 

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt. 

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you. 

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance. 

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job. 

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit. 

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed. 

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.” 

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him. 

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment. 

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone. 

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are. 

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you. 

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you. 

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy. 

You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking. 

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations). 

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too. 

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man. 

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin. 

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap. 

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind. 

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams. 

“Not bad,” you squeak. 

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

[so-many-ocs]

practical writing advice

part 2

avoid writing in bed if you can. writing in bed is the mind-killer. writing in bed is the little death that brings obliteration. you may think "but i can write AND be cozy" you will get sleepy so fast. 98% of the time when i try to get a nighttime writing session done in bed i go to sleep. maybe 70% of the time if it's an afternoon writing session. also it fucking kills your wrists.

STRETCH before writing. stretch as many parts of your body as possible ESPECIALLY YOUR WRISTS! i have chronic tendonitis in both of my arms from not doing this and it is manageable but it is Not Fun!

plug your phone in on the other side of the room. better yet, plug it in and leave it in another room. better yet, power it off and leave it in another room. "i'll just check one quick thing" do not underestimate the power of the doomscroll.

do a warmup. look up writing prompts (i like one-word prompts or prompts that focus on a general theme as it's easier to integrate into my writing style), set a timer for fifteen minutes, or ten, or five, and go ham. make it shitty or incomprehensible, as long as you make it. create a dump document for all your warmups. i currently have two novels in the works that started as one of these fifteen minute little warmups.

pick your background noise ahead of time if you use it, and look for something long. i listen to 3-hour-long silent hill ambient mixes on youtube dot com.

take breaks. around every 45 minutes, as i'm noticing myself begin to lose focus, i get up, grab a drink, get my blood flowing, and give myself some space to breathe.

sometimes i sit down to write and i think "every atom in my body is averse to doing this right now. i would rather dance barefoot on a bed of nails than open my laptop and start typing." and you know what i do? i go do something else instead. don't force it! it will become a chore.

that being said! write as often as possible. try to write every day. try to write at the same time. don't beat yourself up if you can’t, BUT the more often you write, the more often you'll want to write.

if you're stuck on a scene or a page or a chapter, go back to the last place where you felt like you knew what you were doing and start writing from there. keep a copy of your other writing in case you want to reuse it or refer back!

i don't know if this is something that will be helpful for other people but i start mentally preparing myself for my writing session a few hours ahead of time. i will say to myself, "today, at this time, i'm gonna sit down and write that scene where mina walks out on her book club, and it's going to be awesome and i'm looking forward to it." then, by the time i actually begin, i basically have the whole thing written out in my head and can just put it down to paper. it's a good way to at least kickstart the session !

ok thanks bye

[priceinjection]

OlderBf!Simon x CollegeStudent!Reader

Kept writing this in my head, finally wrote it down. Could be something, could be nothing

Cw: mostly fluff and domestic goodness, reference to 18+ themes, allusions to Simon sharing Reader with tf141

Olderbf!Simon is quiet and observant. Yes that means he’s often an excellent listener for his chatty little Bird, and notices things about you that you don’t even notice about yourself. That also means he knows exactly when you don’t want to talk. Your brow furrows in that way that he secretly finds amusing,  your lips are pressed in an impossibly thin line. He doesn’t mind when you don’t want to talk, silence with you is just as good as listening to you talk for hours

Introducing him to your friends was…interesting to say the least. You knew the age gap alone would make them skeptical. So Simon did what any logical person would do. He took you and your friends out to a really nice restaurant and got all of you your own bouquets. 

Simon will ALWAYS walk you home from your evening classes, clubs that get out late, rehearsals, anything you got going on. If its dark out he’s waiting outside ever so patiently “not safe for a pretty thing like you to walk alone” (when he’s away on a mission he will arrange for an escort from someone he’s vetting and trusts) 

When he stays with you at your dorm he’s attached to you like velcro. He follows you down to the laundry room and of course sends an especially deadly look to the hockey player who dared to look at you for a moment too long in the hallway

Simon’s heart damn near jumped out of his chest when you played him one of your favorite playlists and it was full of songs he liked at your age (you didn’t have the heart to tell him that your dad introduced that music to you, he was just so happy!)

Simon doesn’t mind when you go out to college parties without him “m’too old for that young crowd anyway” he’d say. He loves watching you get ready and put on outfits are that are far too revealing, he’s not intimidated by college boys and trusts you. Besides, he’ll be there at the end of the night to make sure you and all of your friends get home safe. He takes you to his place though, you were just so cute and needy and he’d hate to keep your roommates up all night. 

He loooovvveeees seeing you wear his clothes, doesn’t matter your size he’s so large you’re swimming in his shirts no matter what. He loves it a little extra when you leave his place to go to classes sporting a shirt with his last name plastered in all caps on the back. 

He attends all of your events. Don’t try hiding them from him, he’ll find out and be there no matter what you say. You BEG him to stop coming after one of your professors asked if he was your father right before you unknowingly walked over and planted a big kiss on his lips, he does not comply with your wishes. He liked the shock and borderline horror on your professors face.

Simon spoils you, he buys your textbooks and if you need extra money for food or supplies it’s being transferred to you before you even get the chance to say no. It’s not just necessities though! He learns all of your interests and you get plenty of gifts related to them all of the time.

Once your friends got comfortable with Simon he was automatically invited to every girls night at the local collage bar. His presence alone kept the creeps away so you and your friends could have fun. Not to mention he always picks up the tab before any of you realize and drives everyone home safely. 

When he talks about you to his team they all get a little too invested a little too fast. Soap and Gaz constantly asking to see pictures of you “said she did something new with her hair” or some other excuse slipping past their lips. Price was more subtle about his attraction to you, quietly soaking up every story Simon cared to share. He’s the first to volunteer when Simon isn’t able to pick you and your friends up from a party, not that Simon would trust Soap or Gaz with the job.

It’s not lost on Simon when the boys start asking “how’s our Birdie” instead of “how’s your Birdie” He doesn’t mind, a small smirk always tugging on his lips. One day he surprises them with “She’s great, finally wants to meet you lot.”  Technically you hadn’t said that yet,  but Simon highly doubted you’d turn down the opportunity to have three additional men around his age fawning all over you.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.✧༺♥༻∞.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・

A/N: Hello! first post! yay!! I promise these will get better as I find my groove and niche😭 for now please enjoy this stream of consciousness that wouldn't leave my brain

P.S: my lovely friend who pre-read this for me requested a part two immediately with more of the other boys and some more explicit thoughts and concept so keep your eyes peeled for that

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[lotus-lost-n-found]

Some Batfam Headcanons because the brain never stops;

Jason hates being called "Bruce's Son". But he hates it more when hes called "One of Wayne's Orphans/Wayne's child" because fuck you I'm his son-! wait no--

With the exception of Damian, they rarely refer to Bruce as "Dad/Father". Either it didn't occur to them/didn't see the need to/thought it would be strange. But when Dick/Jason/Tim/Cass are tired or injured it might slip out. And Bruce might just crumble a bit at it

Doesn't mean they don't say it to their siblings when Bruce is out of Earshot.

"Dad said you couldn't." "What do you mean Dad said I couldn't use that mug? It's my mug!" "You snooze you lose Timmy Boy-" "Jason don't be an asshole-"

That being said Bruce says "son/daughter/child" at every available opportunity he can after he knows that they have acclimated enough that they wouldn't be uncomfortable/know they can tell Bruce that they don't want to be called that.

First time Bruce called Dick "son" in a way that meant "You are my kid" and not in a "This police officer just called me son with a brow furrow" way Dick grinned and carried on with the conversation. Later he wondered if his dad wouldn't like someone else calling him Son; but Dick thinks about the life he was given because of Bruce and thinks maybe his dad wouldn't mind.

Calling Jason "son" is a hit or miss situation, even before he died. The first time it happened he was confused, he didnt think that was the relationship they had and it made everything change for him. He got frustrated--not angry--with himself and Bruce at this sudden emotional turmoil. Wasn't he just the kid Bruce picked up in an alleyway? Wasn't he just some street rat in bright Robin clothing? (He lets himself believe that he can be Bruce's son. If for only a little while).

Tim cries after Bruce is out of earshot, it would've been a year or so after his parents died and he was adopted. He didn't think he could have been wanted like that again. Even if you think the Drake's had A+ Parenting or not, I don't think he would have gotten a lot of confirmation of being wanted otherwise.

Cass smiles, emotions carefully concealed under her expression. She's grateful she found Bruce and he doesn't mention it if she leans a bit closer in a request for closeness.

Damian doesn't expect anything less, he only appears satisfied. But also relieved that he has gotten the confirmation that yes, Bruce wants and accepts him.

EDIT 10/11; hiii, i have added Duke, Steph & a Bonus in a reblog you can find on the same blog under my 'batfamily headcanons' / 'sore rambles' tag. have fun :)

[oncillabrigade]

Consider:

The Bats all have personalized ring tones for one another, but everyone has both a civilian and a Bat ring tone. The civilian ones are chaos, with everyone choosing whatever they want for their various family members and friends. BUT! Everyone has a single Bat tone that all other team members use for them.

The catch? Bruce forbid them from choosing their own Bat ring tones because he proposed this plan back in Dick's Robin days and he IMMEDIATELY picked "Toxic." The choice was not well received.

Bruce: Dick, I will not be alerted to the fact that you're in danger by some Britney Spears song.

Dick: First of all, it is not some Britney song, it is the Britney song. That song finally won her a Grammy.

Bruce: *sighs*

Dick: Second of all, it won't tell you when I'm in danger... it'll tell you when Robin is.

Bruce:

Bruce: I'm taking the Walkman out of the Robin kit.

Dick: *offended gasp*

(Yes, Dick is old enough for a Walkman. No, you will not change my mind. Yes, the Tim-and-on siblings all find that hilarious. Yes, Jason has to be VERY careful not to mention that he borrowed that Walkman for years because he was uncomfortable taking expensive electronics out and about with him.)

Anyway!

Dick then proposes a slew of other songs for the whole team to use, all of which are pop culture references, e.g. the Scrubs theme because they're not Superman and also they're a dysfunctional family of coworkers; the theme from the Godfather because "let's be honest, B, we are basically our own mafia"; "Where is My Mind" by the Pixies because lol identity shenanigans, etc. The list is endless. Bruce spends weeks groaning every time his son texts him.

Eventually, they compromise on the version of "The Entertainer" from The Sting because they're hiding in plain sight to enact a mission defending good people in a hard world. Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are all so pleased with this that they each take a different section of the song as their ring tone.

Then Barbara becomes Batgirl, so she gets a section... and then Jason becomes Robin and gets one, too... and then Tim, then Steph, and then Cass is taken in, and... uh oh. That's a lot of people for one song.

But it's family tradition! They can't stop now. That would be so unfair to the new kids, B!

So they start using alternate arrangements of the song. Bruce has mellowed slightly on the "no choosing your own" thing. As long as it's a version of "The Entertainer" (within reason) he'll allow it.

Tim retroactively changes his ring tone to a weird groove-ska arrangement Bart randomly sent him on YouTube because have you met Tim Drake? Of course he went for hilarious obscurity. (Bruce grits his teeth and approves it after lots of prompting from Dick and Alfred). Steph makes it her mission to find a weirder one (Bruce agrees because he's too tired to deal with accusations of favoritism).

Cass creates her own arrangement on theremin because apparently she knows how to play the theremin. No one is sure why. Upon inquiry, she just says, "spooky noises are fun," but does not elaborate further even when she's asked to do so. A Batgirl's gotta have her secrets—Babs taught her that.

When Jason starts working with his family again, he pays an aspiring music producer within Red Hood's ranks to create a minor key remix of the original Robin II ring tone. His siblings (minus Cass) are VERY jealous he has his own personalized arrangement. Dick, Tim, and Steph end up paying this goon who owns Garage Band to do ones for them, too. Duke does the same when he joins the team.

Meanwhile, in a fit of little brotherly pique, Damian steals Tim's original ring tone. He hopes to rub salt in the Robin replacement wounds. He fails! Tim finds it beyond funny that Damian's ring tone is groove-ska. So Damian quietly pays the amateur producer to make him one that's cooler than Tim's. He pays a ludicrous amount, though, because Steph paid for one cooler than Jason's and Tim paid for one cooler than Steph's.

(Dick wanted one cooler than Jason's too, but he had $63.02 in his bank account at the time and Bruce flat out refused to use the Batbudget on "a super cool ring tone that's better than Jay's." Eventually, Dick just paid himself for an averagely cool one. In installments.)

At this point, the Bats have single-handedly given this fledgling producer enough money to quit being a goon and start an indie music studio. His first customers are mostly superheroes from out of town who like what the Bats have going on and want their own team ring tones. Harley and Ivy get in on that action, too.

Then, as word spreads, every local crook/henchperson with a side band (there are many) flocks to the studio to have their stuff produced by one of their own. Gotham rogues suddenly have an unemployment problem, while the city finds itself with a flourishing indie music scene that puts Metropolis' to shame. The entire state of New Jersey is celebrating the dual victory.

Dick has never been so glad someone doesn't like Britney Spears' magnum opus.

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)

Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.

Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.

„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.

„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“

Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.

„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.

„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“

He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.

„Well nice to meet you nanny.“

You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“

Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.

And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.

Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.

„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.

„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.

It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.

„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.

„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.

„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.

„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.

„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“

Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“

You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“

Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.

It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“

But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.

You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.

„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.

Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.

„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.

„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.

„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.

Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.

„What about Y/n, Lando?“

Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.

„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.

Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.

„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“

The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.

„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.

So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“

It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.

The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.

„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“

„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.

„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.

Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.

„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.

You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.

„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.

Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.

„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“

You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.

„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.

„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“

Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“

He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.

Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.

„Why not?“

So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.

The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.

It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.

Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.

On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“

Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.

„What do you mean? What about her?“

„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.

„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“

Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.

„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“

„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“

„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.

„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.

„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:

„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.

„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“

Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“

„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“

„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„

„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.

„What?“

„Im gonna get her a bag.“

You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“

„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.

„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.

The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“

You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.

„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.

„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.

Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“

He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?

„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.

„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.

„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.

You scrunch your nose „A purse?“

„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“

„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“

„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.

„What is it then? A special bag?“

„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“

„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“

Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.

Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“

„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“

„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“

You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“

Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“

„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“

„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.

„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“

„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.

„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“

„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“

„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“

„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“

„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.

Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.

But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.

When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.

„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?

„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.

„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.

„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“

„Who?“

„Y/n!“

„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.

„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.

„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“

On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.

„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.

„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.

„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.

„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.

„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.

„What the-„

„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“

„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?

„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“

You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?

„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.

You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“

„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“

„I- Uhm.“

„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“

You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.

You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“

„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.

„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.

„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.

„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.

„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.

„How so?“

„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?

„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“

„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“

„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.

„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.

„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“

„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?

„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“

„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.

„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“

„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.

„Lando calm down!“

„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“

„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“

Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.

„Jesus!“ you sighed.

„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.

„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“

„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.

„For what?“

„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“

„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“

„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.

„But the pictures?“

„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“

„Why didnt you say anything?“

„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“

„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“

Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“

You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“

„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.

„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.

„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.

„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“

„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“

Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.

„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“

You giggle „It is silly baby.“

„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.

„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“

„Why?“

„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“

„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“

„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.

„Birkin Bag.“

[felikatze]

QoL as Kindness: ISAT's diagetic tutorials

This is the hopefully first of a series of posts I'll be doing reinterpreting ISAT's Loop through the lens of START AGAIN: a prologue's context. As such....

Major spoilers for both ISAT (all acts, including optional content) and SASASAP (all endings).

One of the biggest differences between ISAT and SASASAP is it’s QoL – it’s Quality of Life. QoL refers to all the little things that make a game just that little bit more playable; quick to navigate menus, quicksaving… tutorials.

It’s not really a surprise that SASASAP is as RPGmaker as RPGmaker gets. This isn’t a criticism, just an observation, and also a compliment to how much Adrienne’s skills with the engine improved between releases. Still, there’s some things that ISAT has over SASASAP.

ISAT’s QoL is absolutely essential to making it bearable. Anyone ever watch an ISAT playthrough where the player sighed in relief as the tutorial on picking where you loop came up?

SASASAP lacks a lot of ISAT’s QoL because it’s an earlier project without a studio backing it, but what impresses me is how this change ties into narrative.

Because the greatest chunk of ISAT’s greatest QoL is provided by Loop.

Even before you ever meet them, they’re already over your shoulder. Loop is the tutorial, speaking to you inside your brain. It’s genius, in that no player is ever going to question this. Hell, SASASAP’s movement tutorial is the exact same thing with less flavoring

This reframes what the QoL is – it’s not just a convenience to the player, it’s a convenience to Siffrin, too. It’s diegetic. It’s not something the game is giving you, it’s something Loop is giving you. Let’s look at what Loop gives you, and more importantly, why.

Zone Out

The first of the QoL features I want to talk about is the Zone Out function, the absolute bread and butter of not making this game a total slog.

The Zone Out feature as is did not exist in SASASAP (because Adrienne didn’t know how to do it yet) – instead, some doubled scenes let you just skip them entirely outright. There’s only two extremes: listen to all of it again, or none of it.

ISAT’s zone out system is much more dynamic, since it fast forwards dialogue line by line, letting you zone in whenever you’d like, and forcing you to zone in whenever a) something notably new happens, or b) whenever Siffrin speaks.

The way this feature is introced by Loop is kind of genius. Because Loop’s tutorial is about one thing – it’s okay to skip.

“You might miss what your party is saying, but who cares, right? If you make them mad, you can always loop back and they'll have forgotten all about it!”

It’s a cruel joke, or at least it seems that way on the surface. It’s also genuine advice. And a cruel joke at the same time. For Siffrin, freshly starting the loops, this is scandalous, but for Loop, who’s long since desensitized, it’s the same old same old.

What Loop’s doing here, by joking about Siffrin not listening to the party, is alliviate Siffrin’s guilt when they inevitably take Loop up on the offer. Because, even though Loop loves their party members…

From SASASAP, when sitting outside the bathroom:

(Will you get farther this time?) (Will you live this time?) (Or are you stuck listening to the same lines forever?) (…) (Stars, you’re so tired.)

Loop knows intimately well that Siffrin is going to drive themself insane trying to be a people pleaser every single loop, so this joke is telling the outright – don’t bother.

At first, Siffrin (and the player) still might. I really enjoyed reading the same conversations five times minimum because they’re fun and I’m deranged, but at some point I did start skipping them. And it was a relief to know there wouldn’t be anything new.

Siffrin: “Should I check everything again?” Loop: “You mean, should you check the same barrels, the same closets, the same objects on tables every loop?” Loop: “I mean, you can, but… You know things won’t change, right?” Loop: “If you really want to get a certain item again, or listen to your friends repeat something funny, you should!” Loop: “I personally would only check two or three things every loop, and ignore the rest.” Loop: “It will just make you crazy to expect something to change, when nothing will.” Loop: “All that might change is your reaction to it!”

The game is telling you, Loop is telling Siffrin, don’t drive yourself insane playing, please. The characters aren’t going to remember if you skipped something.

In the course of my script wizard activities, I’ve gotten an in-depth view of just how much that actually holds up. Pretty much all major differences are by Act, unrelated of how often you’ve done something. Minor variations apply for other things, but… those variations are minor.

And this also points out what all those variations are. Siffrin’s reactions!

Loop’s pre-empting Siffrin’s guilt, cuz they probably felt it themself. Hell, we do know they felt the pressure to perform and make sure nobody notices anything’s wrong, in SASASAP! Right up until the finale, Loop was driving themself up the wall.

(You have to act, you can't crack, you have to fake it and play it exactly as you did the first time for the whole way through so your friends don't find out anything is wrong) (You don't want to know what would happen if they knew their quest was in vain) (If they knew their quest for justice and change always ends in stillness and death!)

Acting everything out perfectly is one of the ending paths for SASASAP, which results in… complete and utter failure. Obviously.

(You acted perfectly normally, didn't you?) (Nothing out of place, nothing weird, every line the same as it might've been the first time?) (Ah…That was your mistake, wasn't it…?) (Because… Didn't your very first time… end exactly like this?) (The King throws the Housemaiden's body onto the floor again.)

Zoning out for too many conversations actually awards weird points in SASASAP, locking you out of the Perfect Ending. On the other hand, acting “perfectly” in ISAT… has no awards whatsoever. No special scene or or optional event or anything at all. You get nothing for paying attention!!!

So spare yourself the pain already, m’kay?

(On that note: I don’t think Loop not being sarcastic about it would’ve like… worked. At the start of ACT 2, Siffrin isn’t going to believe Loop when they say “Stop forcing yourself to relive the same thing over and over because you’ll start seeing your friends as disposable actors and lose touch with reality.” That all comes later, when Siffrin can look back on Loop’s words and see how right they were.)

Loop Back

The second biggest sigh of relief in any given ISAT playthrough is probably this specific tutorial.

Loop graciously shows you that you don’t need to loop back all the way to the beginning every single time. You can pick and choose where to go, even going forward by paying up with Memories of Skirmish.

This is a feature SASASAP does not possess, for the reason that it is much, much shorter, only covering about as much as one floor of ISAT’s three floor House.

But… since this is a character showing this to you, Loop showing this to you, we can ask… when did Loop learn this? After all, START AGAIN, Loop’s loops, do not have this feature.

“It'll save you time, so it's important, so listen up!”

This feature not existing in SASASAP means this is a thing that Loop did not know exists during their own time as Siffrin.

And that’s just the thing, isn’t it? SASASAP’s Siffrin does not know how to do this. They cannot pick and choose where they end up, as demonstrated wonderfully by SASASAP’s True Ending. There’s an even more wonderful implication, though –

On SASASAP’s Perfect End path, when exiting the final room before the King, Isabeau says this:

Isabeau: “…I'm glad you're feeling better, though!” Siffrin: (…?) “What do you mean…?” Isabeau: “Oh!!! Um, you were…” Isabeau: “Well! You were acting a little weird when we were way closer to the Castle's entrance……” Isabeau: “You weren't really listening to us, you were kinda smiling the way you do when you're actually not happy…” Isabeau: “…and you like, almost acted like you knew exactly where you were going?” Isabeau: “But clearly you're feeling better now! You're acting just like normal!!!”

SASASAP’s Siffrin knew how to do this, somehow managed to lock themself into the House’s last floor… and then forgot how to get back. By making this tutorial, Loop is ensuring that Siffrin never will.

“What can I do next?” – SASASAP’s greatest flaw

So, if you’ve had the pleasure of playing START AGAIN START AGAIN START AGAIN: a prologue yourself (as you should), then you’ve probably faced this scenario, or some variation of it:

I got to the end, I died to the King, but… what do I do next? The game tells me to go for the extremes, but how do I do that?

(edit: apparently some of yall just managed to speedrun sasasap in two loops. You're gonna need to stay with me here, please. Suspend your disbelief a bit, because a lot of people [including me] were dumbasses about it)

Maybe you try another loop, but just get the same ending again (or a differnet one, depending on a coinflip). You’re getting frustrated. Getting the Perfect Ending demands pinpoint precision to avoid everything weird, the True Ending demands good memorization of every single damn key in the game, and the order you do everything in. (Though, to be fair, the requirements on that one are actually more merciful than one might expect.)

Point is, in SASASAP, it’s incredibly easy to get stuck in that endless loop of “What the fuck do I do now?” It’s not uncommon to think you got it right only to get the same result anyways. What does one do in this situation?

They consult a guide, obviously.

START AGAIN’s ending requirements are frustrating. They are. When I tried to go for either the Perfect or the True Ending, I saved inside every single room, just so I could get right back to it when I inevitably fucked up five times minimum. This is both criticism… and praise. Because Loop is the major reason that ISAT does not suffer from this same problem.

Whenever you’re stuck in ISAT, Loop is just a single loop or call away at any times. And besides that, no plot requirement in ISAT demands nearly as many moving pieces all at once as SASASAP does – the “Sus Route” has been relegated to an optional ACT 4 exclusive event, instead of the game’s True Ending.

Instead of consulting an external guide on how to progress, you have one right there in the game, always ready with the next tip. They’re not infallible, mind you – enough time in Isatcord’s #game-help proves that, but Loop solved all of the moments I got stuck and frustrated in ISAT for me.

(Primarily that one time you need to figure out that a photo is similar to being stuck in time. That moment in particular is actually commendable, as you need to ask Loop about it twice before they tell you, leaving you a last shot to try and figure it out on your own.) Loop is a feature that nullifies SASASAP’s greatest flaw in its successor, and they choose to do so.

Memory of Keys

In my humble opinion, Loop does this because… they do not want Siffrin to suffer as they did. They want Siffrin to escape. And there is no greater example of their kindness than how Loop treats keys.

First of all, all keys in the game have a sparkling effect on them if you’ve picked them up at least once before, making it immediately clear where in the room they are. This means you don’t need to search every single room top to bottom for them, as you had to do for any keys and Star Crests in SASASAP. It’s some nice QoL that just means you don’t have to re-search the same area if you happened to forget which specific cupboard the key was in.

Key point being: SASASAP did not have this feature. In SASASAP, you did have to memorize where all the keys are, and doing so is expected if you want the True Ending.

Loop does not want Siffrin to have to do this. Because…

From SASASAP’s True End:

(The torch in the infirmary? That’s important!) (The key in the book? Soooo important.) (The names of your friends, that have been by your side throughout this entire adventure?) (Not worth remembering.)

Compared to ISAT’s ACT 2:

Siffrin: “How come I can see where the keys are?” Loop: “Whaaaaat? You caaaaaan? How can that beeeeeee?” Siffrin: “Is it thanks to you?” Loop: “Maybe.” Loop: “I figured you'd have other things to worry about than where a stupid key is.” Loop: “No need to thank me.”

To Loop, that they memorized the House’s layout over their friends’ names is a defining moment to their own failures. After all, in all likelihood, the True End of SASASAP is the last loop before they called it quits. It’s a traumatic experience from them, one that came from having to remember all the dumb fucking keys.

They do not want Siffrin to experience this. They do not want Siffrin to have to memorize the House, to push away what actually matters in favor of efficiency. So Loop is directly, personally, giving them a boon, so that Siffrin does not have to.

Conclusion

There’s probably more tutorial things I could talk about, but I feel like you’re seeing the pattern now, even if I don’t bring up saving level ups or keeping equipment or the “You’re stuck” signifier, least of all cuz they don’t have direct points of comparison with SASASAP like my other examples do (SASASAP has no changeable equipment, and saving levels doesn’t matter if you only have one floor, and you can’t softlock either.). So.

Loop’s tutorials all belie a fundamental kindness to their character. Everything that made their own experience trapped in the timeloop just that bit worse, they’re choosing to do away with it for Siffrin. They are choosing to make Siffrin’s time here easier.

Zoning out too much lead to them never paying attention to their friends, forgetting their names, so they make sure that Siffrin can still zone back in whenever something new happens.

Loop trapped themself for years on the final floor, locking themself out of progress that might lie further back, so they’re ensuring Siffrin knows exactly how to loop forwards and backwards so it doesn’t happen again.

Loop lets Siffrin keep equipment across loops to cut down on time spent doing the exact same thing over and over.

They are saving Siffrin time, and they are giving Siffrin comfort. At every single turn, Loop is saving Siffrin from the same pitfalls they fell into without anyone to guide them out.

It's honestly incredible to transform an increase in skill into an actual narrative element. Yes, SASASAP sucks more to play. But ISAT sucks less, because Loop wants it to. It's the perfect marriage of real world circumstance and storytelling. I could... probably pull another comparison here, saying it's like a game and its remake - overhauled graphics, expanded story, and loads and loads of QoL, because the makers of the remake realized something. They love the original, but parts of it do suck, and there's so much that can be done to make a new player's experience smoother. Metanarrative commentary,,,, woah,,,,,

Every single one of these QoL elements I’ve mentioned function as a crutch for a player’s failing memory, but also Siffrin’s (similar to what I talked about in my previous essay on ISAT’s ludonarrative - the player and Siffrin are always in sync, even in how tutorials benefit them). Loop doesn’t know the player exists though (only the Change God does), so they do everything for Siffrin.

To keep Siffrin from forgetting. To help Siffrin focus on what’s important. To make Siffrin’s journey just a little bit less miserable. Loop directly improves ISAT’s QoL. For you. For Siffrin.

From Loop’s introduction:

Loop: “See, I’m useful! I’m very useful! That’s why I’m here, helpful Loop.” Siffrin: “Why are you helping me?” Loop: “…” Loop: “Because I think you should be helped.” Loop: “I won’t always have the answers, but… I think having someone on your side to talk to is better than dealing with this alone.” Loop: “Right?”

From Loop’s hangout:

“But it’s fine.” “Whether you believe me or not, I’m here to help you.” “So you can escape this loop.”

And finally, from the start of ACT 3:

Siffrin: “Are you really here to help me?” Loop: “Stardust…” Loop: “…” Loop: “Yes.” Loop: “If you can believe anything, believe that.” Loop: “I asked to be here, so I could help you.”

And I do believe them. Loop’s feelings on Siffrin are… complex, to say the least. They love Siffrin, and they hate him in equal measure. They’re jealous, and spiteful, but underneath everything…

In SASASAP, if you die to a Sadness thrice, you get this monologue:

(Sometimes, when you loop back here…) (In the corner of your eye, you can sometimes see someone that looks just like you.) (Is it a you from another loop? Remnants of your past failures?) (Are you going crazy?) (May they succeed where you cannot.)

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition pt. 2 ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ft. gn! reader x asaba harumasa, billy kid, and seth lowell ; a follow up to my previous dating hcs (which can be found here) and a response to a request ( ^ω^ ) first post of the year（≧∇≦）i hope you enjoy reading!!

asaba harumasa

very clingy. when you're not together, he'd be texting you random little updates or beg for your attention just for the sake of talking to you if calling momentarily isn't an option. sometimes he tries to use you as an excuse to get out of work, but after he's done it a couple of times, you've become immune to always bending to his whims and suddenly he's whining about how you don't love him anymore.

["wait i'll look at your texts later brb love u ^3^" "so you hate me."]

an avid quality time enjoyer, if i've ever seen one. he's content with lazing around with you or doing mundane tasks that don't require much physical effort. likes cuddling against you when you're just sitting engrossed in doing something with your hands and reading or watching something together.

even though he usually appears and acts lighthearted, deep down, he's genuinely happy with you and the relationship you share. he cherishes every moment you can spend together and wishes it could go on for as long as he lives. you're the person he refers to as family when on one of his much-dreaded doctor appointments.

alongside the nightmares he already has regarding his sickness, he'd have times when he'd wake up in a cold sweat from dreams of losing or leaving you and the people he cares for. thankfully, on the days you sleep over, he has you; he's comforted by the sight of your sleeping figure and clings to you for the rest of the night.

on a lighter note, sharing a bed with this man is probably a chaotic experience on a dreamless night; initially, you'd both fall into slumber comfortably cuddled against each other, but the following morning, one of you would be seconds away from suffocating in a vice grip.

billy kid

loves playing games with you. he's usually competitive when playing against you but when you're both on a team together, he's suddenly the biggest cheerleader there is. if both of you lose, that's totally fine! you'll get it next time. what matters to him is that you had fun together.

deeply appreciates it and enjoys when you match him nerd-for-nerd, even if you don't share a lot of similar interests. you take turns randomly info-dumping about any piece of media or activity you're into and both of you pay genuine attention to whatever the other is talking about. he loves listening to you passionately talk or share anything about any topic because you do the same for him.

adding on to the previous point: both of you make jokes about liking your favorite fictional characters or celebrities more, just to be playfully petty.

["if you had to choose between me or monica, who would you pick?" "...well, yes!" "..." "alright, then. between me and /insert favorite character/--" "that's unimportant."]

after spending so much time with him, you already know which maintenance products he likes for himself or his guns. kind of like how other people know what shampoo or body wash their partner prefers. when you see he's running out and you buy them without telling him, he'll notice and be weeping tears of joy.

if you take a while to open up to him about certain things, he's alright with that and will tell you to take your time or give you the space you need. he's been the same when it comes to sharing his past with other people and understands that some things do take courage to tell.

seth lowell

despite having been in a relationship for a while, he most likely still gets easily flustered from any vaguely flirty quip and intimate gesture that comes from you. you could use this knowledge to your advantage but do have mercy on the poor guy.

[there was one instance where you gave him a quick peck on the lips without giving much thought to it before leaving and all he could do was stay where he was with his brain buffering for a whole minute.]

even though he's somewhat shy about expressing his admiration or appreciation for you and sometimes stumbles through his words when doing so, he's sincere in everything he says and does for you.

you're one of the very few people he trusts with touching his tail and ears. it's come to the point where when you're both just laying together, he wouldn't mind the feeling of your fingers gently rubbing on a certain spot on his ears while you run your fingers through his hair.

he appreciates that you see him for who he is and acknowledge his efforts to get where he is now. your affirmations, whether spoken or unspoken, mean much to him and he feels like he can truly be comfortable when he's around you.

sometimes, he unknowingly acts or does very attractive things and it just blows your mind. he'd steer you by the waist from bumping into things or, if you're shorter, accidentally pin you against a wall/surface when trying to reach for something from a high place because he just wants to help! you should be more careful, you know. but you've already mentally imploded while your sweet, sweet boyfriend remains clueless.

[hhughes]

♡ 𝆬 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

𝓹airing , quinn hughes x bsf!reader

quinn leads the canucks to round 2 of the playoffs and no one is happier than his best friend who is a life long canucks fan. . . (wc ; 1845 )

꒰ 𝓷ote , this is set during last years playoffs. it’s been in the drafts a while!!! as always I hope you enjoy <33 . . . ꒱

your heart jumps in your chest when you feel arms loop around your waist from behind, your mind distracted as you watch the sunrise out quinn’s floor to ceiling apartment windows. your erratic heartbeat calms when you recognize the cologne of your best friend. he tightens his arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck and you giggle as his beard scratches against your skin. you wiggle in his arms until you’re fully turned around, looping your arms around his neck and smiling up at him brightly. quinn feels this weird feeling in his stomach looking at you, as if every nerve cell under his skin starts buzzing when he lays eyes on you.

he was forever jealous of how much joy you had in the morning, not because he felt the need to erase his hatred for early mornings, but because he wanted to be the only reason for that expression on your face. he wanted all your smiles to be as a result and directed towards him. that’s how deep quinn’s affection went for you, that he harboured irrational jealousy towards the sun for making you happy. but he’s never been good at sharing his best friend’s attention and affections with anything or anyone else, even his brothers who were utterly obsessed with you when they met you in quinn’s first year on the team, who quinn has always been more than happy to share with. you were the one thing that quinn wanted all to himself.

“good morning sunshine,” you tease, running your hand through his hair and he responds with a simple groan against your neck.

“or should I say… good morning captain of a team who made it to the second round,” you state, pride obvious in your tone and quinn lifts his head to give you a dopey smile.

“there he is!” you tease and quinn squeezes your hip in response before reaching behind you to pick up your cup of coffee.

“um sure, just drink all my coffee, when the full pot is right there,” you say sarcastically and quinn takes another big sip, lips quirking up at your annoyed frown.

“what’s yours is mine. and what's mine is yours, clearly,” quinn says drily, tugging on the edge of his dress shirt that you were wearing and you pout slightly.

“I showered this morning, and it was warm, right from the drier,” you defend and quinn smiles softly, tugging you closer by the material and wrapping you in a bear hug. he just holds you for a few seconds and you smile thinking about the first time you heard the guys refer to quinn as “huggy bear”. your guy’s always loved a good hug.

“I have a team event coming up after the playoffs. like an end of the year banquet type of thing, will you go with me? I know you’ve been to like ten events with me this year and you’re probably sick of them by now so if you don’t want - ” quinn says but you interrupt before he can finish.

“I’d love to go with you. I never get tired of seeing captain quinn in action. I have fun, all I have to do is stand and try to look pretty while you woo people,” you say and quinn scoffs.

“you don’t have to try. you’re always the most beautiful girl in the room. and I don’t know how much wooing I can really do-”

“a lot. these people and this city adores you quinn. I don't think you realise just how much you mean to this organisation,” you say, and quinn feels a lump in his throat building a little as your words hit him. you grew up in Vancouver and you’ve been a diehard canucks fan since you were a kid, so quinn knew you weren’t just saying this because you were his friend and you wanted to make him feel better about himself. you genuinely believed it. and that unwavering faith you had in him meant more than he could ever put into words, so he doesn’t even try and instead just presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, hoping it’ll say everything he can’t seem to articulate.

–

you attend all home games in the second round, just like you did the first, you and ellen cheering until your voices go away all the way until the canucks get eliminated. you were once again amazed by quinn and the graceful way he handled the elimination, knowing it was about progress, not necessarily perfection and the canucks had made tremendous progress this past season with him leading them. of course it didn’t hurt that he had you reminding him of that the few days after the brutal loss, asking you to stay with him while he wraps things up for the end of the season, claiming it was so that the two of you could spend more time together before he heads to michigan for the summer.

it wasn’t unusual for you to stay at quinn’s place though, and you had done so many times over the course of your friendship, and it seems to happen more often as the years go by. you had probably spent more time at his apartment this past month than your own. you don’t even bother staying in the guest room anymore, opting to sleep next to quinn as the two of you always fall asleep while watching a movie or reading side by side in his bed at the end of the night.

you awake like you do most mornings when staying over at quinn’s, with his arm thrown over your stomach, and his soft breaths against your neck, one leg intertwined with yours. you successfully sneak out quietly, going to the living room and doing your daily morning scroll through social media while waiting for quinn to wake up but the bed must have been colder than usual without you because it wasn’t even five minutes after that he woke up and entered the living room with a tired groan, collapsing next to you on the couch and nuzzling his face into your chest as he mumbled, “why you awake so early. come back to bed,”

“quinn,” you say softly, as not to startle him but the hesitancy in your voice makes quinn lift his head and meet your eyes with a sleepy little squint that makes your heart squeeze.

“what’s wrong?” he asks with a yawn, immediately knowing something was bothering you and leaning on his elbow so he can meet your eyes.

“you know how I follow some canuck fan accounts?” you ask and he furrows his brows

“I told you to unfollow them,” he points out, smiling slightly at the guilty look on your face, only realising now his body was plastered to yours but he didn’t want to move and you didn’t look like you were uncomfortable with the closeness, so quinn just snuggled closer, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns on your hip.

“I am ‘nucks fan to my core quinny. I can’t just unfollow them,” you argue as if it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard and he chuckles slightly at your dramatics.

“you can if what they’re saying upsets you. what you see?” quinn asks, and you hesitate for a second before telling him, knowing his reaction was gonna affect you, whether you wanted it to or not.

“pictures of me and your mom sitting together. and pictures of the two of us leaving the game together. us at dinner with your family and me wearing your jersey. there’s one of us at a bar with the team and we look …” in love, you think but can’t voice it. “cosy. people are speculating that we’re – you know, together.” you explain, biting your lip anxiously and quinn gently tugs it out from between your teeth, running his thumb over it.

“oh,” he replies, distracted by the thumb still against your bottom lip.

“oh? that’s all you're gonna say?” you ask, grabbing his wrist and pulling it down to your stomach again, the way he was caressing your face was way too distracting for the conversation you were trying to have.

“I uh – already saw that. basically everyone I know has sent it to me. my brothers, the team, even my mom,” quinn explains, and it makes sense now why he didn’t seem shocked by the news.

“your mother?” you squeak out, mortified at the thought of his mother reading the things people have been saying online about the two of you.

“yeah. wouldn’t be surprised if she started these rumours herself though. she was excited to say the least, going on and on about how happy she was that we were finally together and that it took me long enough to lock you down” quinn jokes, and your heart warms slightly at his words.

“you’re not - upset by it? I know it’s probably weird –” you start but quinn cuts you off by pressing a gentle and unexpected kiss to your cheek.

“it’s not weird. I’m honoured actually, that people think I have enough game to pull someone as hot as you,” he says and you scoff, rolling your eyes and gently hitting him against the chest.

“be serious,” you scold lightly, picking at the blanket thrown over your lap and he laughs, hand nudging your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“I am serious. you’re way out of my league angel. It’s a bit of a cruel joke that people think you would date me,” he says and you immediately frown, wondering if your best friend must have gotten a concussion somehow in the last 24 hours because there was no way Quinn Hughes actually believed the words coming out of his mouth.

“that’s an utterly ridiculous thing to believe considering you have every quality I love in a man and I’ve had the biggest crush on you since the day I met you,” you say without thinking, your cheeks heating up when you realise what you just said, your embarrassment only multiplying when you see the amused grin on his face.

“you have a little crush on me, eh?” he teases, and you sigh lovingly

“quinn, shut up and kiss me already, would you?” you say, and both of you can’t keep the grins off your faces as he leans closer and connects your lips in a sweet, tender, long overdue kiss.

“Your mom was right, you know? It took you long enough to lock me down,” you mumble against his lips and quinn doesn’t even get a chance to respond when the front door suddenly bursts open and ellen walks in.

“Talk of the devil,” quinn mutters and you hide your laugh in his shoulder as his mom observes the position you two currently found yourselves in.

“Hi mrs. Hughes,” you greet her, both you and quinn sending her matching, sheepish smiles.

“Quintin Jerome Hughes, you are such a little liar! I raised you better than lying to your own mother”

[pyxxiestyxx]

Truth and Rumors

You didn't exactly plan on being your space station's liaison to the Affini Compact, but everyone in leadership had fled into the darkness of space hours before the plant's first ships jumped into position. Clearly someone had tipped the C-Suite off somehow; honestly, you couldn't blame them. Everything you had heard about the Compact was…rather terrifying, really. Behemoth plants with rows upon rows of teeth, infectious parasites ready to take over your mind, eternal servitude and endless labor with no pay…you shuddered at the rumors, at the stories. Perhaps worse was the actual propaganda produced by the plants; not that you or anyone else on the station was legally allowed to watch it, but even the few still frames that were shown to you had painted a grisly picture. The limp figure of some Terran Navy hero, cuddled and coddled by the hulking beast of a plant behind her. Apparently they had changed the soldier's gender, or something? The report accompanying the image was rather unclear for that particular detail. And now, here you were: sitting nervously in the largest conference room on the station, the lone Terran at a desk made for over thirty to sit at comfortably. When the Compact had hailed your station, you were one of the few working the comms station, and everyone else had either fainted, screamed, or panicked. Not that you were much better, but it was apparently enough that you were voluntold to answer it. The voice of the caller was…strange. Different, somehow. Calming, and yet thrilling. She introduced herself as Lady Violetta Larella, Fourteenth Bloom, she/her. Blushing, you apologized for not referring to her by her title earlier. In your defense, you hadn't realized she was nobility. She seemed to enjoy that, for some reason. You had only been sitting at the table for a few minutes when there was a sharp knock at the door. The Lady entered as gracefully as one possibly could when entering a door made for someone at least five feet shorter, her long dress trailing behind her as she clasped her hands and smiled. "Hello, darling. It's so lovely to see you in the flesh, so to speak! And just look at you! Why, that video feed certainly dulled your charms~" Her voice was dripping with genuine affection as she stepped over to you, taking a knee and reaching an elegant hand out to tussle your hair. You couldn't help but shudder as she did so; your nerves dancing in abject joy as she gently pet your head. Your eyes slowly closed in utter delight as you sagged back into your chair, your tensed muscles relaxing one by one by one... "Oh, but I apologize! Playtime can come later, dear. Let's get down to business, shall we?" You blinked in confusion as you realized She had stopped petting you, and couldn't stop yourself from letting out the smallest of whimpers as She began to withdraw Her hand. Every single one of Her eyes, each of which ranked among some of the most verdant jewels you had ever seen, quickly seemed to shift and dance to a brilliant violet. Her hand returned, sending your worries scuttling for the door as She did so. "Well…perhaps we can take a few minutes, first. Just to make sure you have been thoroughly examined, of course; it would be my duty as Own…as Overseer of this operation to guarantee your mental and physical wellbeing~" You smiled dreamily as you were picked up and held by Lady Violetta, happy that everything you had heard about the Affini was so clearly wrong. She grinned at you, a wide smile that showed all Her many, many pretty teeth, and held up a single, succulent berry, the sight of which made your mouth water. "Now then…let's play a fun little game. When I stroke downward on your cheek, I want you to open your mouth…"

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

night out

a/n: we back babyyy!!! i haven't been able to stop thinking about these two for fucking months, so i wrote both this aaaaand another part to wrap up their story and get it out of my system.

summary: “I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader x ex!peter parker, light smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, bffs kate bishop and yelena belova, french rave, dancing, kissing, over-the-clothes fun, foreplay, references to public sex, choking, manhandling, jealousness, possessiveness, angst, arguments, brat mode activated (though its totally justified), these hoes are not dealing with their emotions in a healthy way but it's just for the sake of yummy drama

word count: 1993

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“I thought we were just going to a cute little wine bar, not a fucking rave,” you yelled over the music as your friends dragged you further into the warehouse. 

“Oh, come on, babe,” Yelena boomed, slinking her arm around both yours and Kate's neck, “don’t be a chicken now.”

“Yeah,” your brunette friend on the other side of Yelena tilted her frame to catch your apprehensive eye, “you already sneaked out, so you might as well make it count.” 

“I hate it when you’re right,” you groaned, your gaze narrowed to a squint as you got used to the warm flashing lights that dully illuminated the club. 

“Then you must always hate me,” a smug smirk spread across her features before the trio of you ventured further into the crowded space. 

As the night faded away, you found yourselves bathing in the strobes of neon light as your bodies moved on their own accord, like you were all part of a hive, buzzing together in harmony.

But then when you tapped both of your dancing friends on their shoulders and ushered their ears to lean in close to your lips, you told them, “I’m gonna go get some water,” receiving two thumbs up before you made your way through the crowd to the curved bar in the corner. 

However, after the bartender handed you a plastic bottle and you tilted your head back to take a much-needed sip, a familiar voice found your ears from across the bar. 

“As I live and fucking breathe,” you tipped the bottle back down and glanced down the way at the unexpected figure moseying closer to where you stood. 

“Peter!” a surprised smile couldn’t help but spread across your features, “what are you doing here?” 

Settling in beside you, he said, “it’s a Saturday night, where else would I be?”

“No, I mean, what are you doing in Paris?” 

“Oh, what, am I not allowed to be in your city anymore since the breakup?” he joked.

“No, of course, you can be here.” 

Leaning in even closer so that he didn’t have to yell as loud, he asked, “so how are you doing?”

“Me? I’m good, yeah,” your head bobbed in a nod, “how about you?”

“Can’t complain,” his gaze washed over you as if no time had passed at all, “so… can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you shifted the water bottle to your other hand. 

“You seeing anyone?” 

“Oh, wow,” you half coughed, “Peter Parker, king of subtlety.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count, so I figured subtlety went out the window a long time ago,” he smirked, “so, are you?”

“I–, uhm…” your eyes averted a moment as you uttered, “no.” 

You weren’t, it was true. Though the reason for why you’d sneaked out in the first place did have to do with a matter of the heart. 

You’d asked your friends what their advice would be if you hypothetically needed to get over someone. They both of course assumed that you were referring to the man standing before you in the disco and not the person who watched you like a hawk every minute of every day. The method they had suggested wasn’t a sound one, though one that still found you desperate enough to try. 

To go out, meet someone else and bang the dude out of your system. 

“Can I ask you something else?” Peter asked again, ripping you out of your thoughts, away from your bodyguard and back in the moment. As you offered him a nod, he smiled brightly, “you wanna dance?”

And that’s how you found yourself in the middle of a crowded dancefloor, plastered against your ex.

It didn’t take long before your lips reunited as well, staying locked as you both let your hands wander, though for you it wasn’t entirely in the spirit of rekindling something that you’d missed, and more to help you forget about the person who you truly wished to lose yourself on a dancefloor with. 

“Fuck,” you heard Peter groan in your ear and his desperation poked your lower abdomen for the attention you used to give it, “you wanna go slip into the bathroom?”

“Uhh,” you giggled as his lips tickled the side of your neck, “what kinda woman do you take me to be?”

“Mine,” he smiled, “that’s who. I know you. A club bathroom is nothing… remember Amsterdam?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” your body tingled at the thought. 

“That’s also an option, if that’s the kind of mood you're in,” he winked. 

Chuckling as he squeezed your tit, you shook your head lightly, “I’m not fucking you here on the dancefloor.” 

“Oh, come on, it–”

But the rest of your ex’s sentence was cut short as a figure forced itself between you two and pried you apart.  

Instinctively reaching out for Peter as he was forcefully pushed back, your arm then faltered as you blinked up to discover who had shoved him. 

“Barnes,” a shiver ran down your spine at the stormy expression plastered all over his face, a side of him you’d never witnessed before, “I–”

But he cut you off, only to bark, “out, now.”

“But I–”

“Do you wanna walk on your own or should I just toss you over my shoulder?” he glared down at you just before you watched Peter’s hand plant itself on Bucky’s broad shoulder. 

“Hey, dude, don’t touch her, back off,” your ex tried to square up to the intimidating guard dog. 

“No, no, Peter, it’s alright,” you rushed to explain, knowing full well that your bodyguard could and would put him in the hospital, “he’s–…” your eyes briefly flickered up to Bucky’s steely blue eyes, still directed at you, “he’s my bodyguard,” before you let your touch graze Peter’s forearm, “I’m so sorry, it was great seeing you again, but I have to go.” 

Getting dragged out of the club like a perp from a crime scene was not the way you’d imagined your night would wrap up. 

After he’d virtually tossed you in the back and slammed the car door shut behind you, you fished out your phone and swiftly sent your friends an explanatory text while you half-watched Bucky march around the vehicle to the driver’s side. 

The silent treatment he then served you nearly felt worse than the heated words you imagined tumbled around in his head as he fumed, his knuckles nearly turned white from how fiercely he was gripping onto the steering wheel. 

But when you finally mustered the courage to break the eerie silence, your words came out just above a whisper, “I’m sorry…”

“Are you?” his eyes snapped up to find yours in the review mirror, “really? Because I don’t fucking buy it.” 

“Well, I am!” you threw up your arms, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Not sneak out like a fucking teenager to get drunk with your little boyfriend,” 

“I’m not drunk and he’s not my boyfriend!” 

Not taking any of your words to heart, Bucky went on, “you know how stupid this was, right? What if something had happened, huh? I know you didn’t personally read the threats you got back when I first got this job, but trust me when I tell you that if any of those fuckers had gotten their hands on you tonight, you’d be lucky if you were still breathing when the sun rose. This is exactly the sort of reckless behaviour that caused you to need my help in the first place.”

Your mouth then fell open, utterly stunned at his audacity, “oh my god… you’re unbelievable…” you uttered breathlessly before hazily commanding, “stop the car…”

“No–”

“Stop the fucking car!” you roared, casting your gaze to him once more till you felt his foot step on the break. 

As the car screeched to a stop, you wasted no time ripping the door open and storming out. 

Though you didn’t dare to look back, you still heard him exit the vehicle as well and shadow you as you wandered a few paces away, just far enough for you to be able to get some air. 

“Y/n,” you heard him from just a few meters behind you, “get back in the car–”

But you didn’t shift your feet as you then interrupted, back still turned to him.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

“What?”

“Well aren’t you?” you heatedly twisted around to face him, “because it sure fucking looks like it. Getting all fucking possessive, ripping me away from my ex before I can crawl my way back to him, before I get the chance to feel anyone inside of me but you–”

“Stop–”

“Is that it? You just want me all to yourself?” you kept on poking, too blind by your fury to consider the consequences, “you want it to be you that I’m so in love with that I’d make you personalised porn, which would consequently ruin my life and cause me to have a babysitter essentially stalking me.”

“Stop!” he took a step closer as he barked.

“Unless you’ve already seen the tape,” your feet shifted back, keeping him at a distance, “fantasising that it’s for you, getting yourself off to the image of me bouncing on that pretty pink dildo–”

Your sentence then crumbled into a shrivelled yelp as you felt his cold metal hand seize your neck and push you the last few inches up against the brick wall behind you. 

His fingers didn’t squeeze you in the slightest, though you still knew just how easy it would have been for him to tighten his grip and turn it into more than just a raging warning. 

“You done?” he spat as his eyes pieced directly into your soul, “or do you wanna give me more reasons why you’re nothing more than a spoiled little brat, why I should just quit now and not have to deal anymore with what a fucking pain you are in my ass?”

For the life of you, no attempts at offering him an answer were successful on your lips. 

He scared you. 

He’d never scared you before. 

Both because of the explosion you’d undoubtedly made even worse than it had to be, but also his fleeting threat of leaving you for good. 

It all terrified you… 

Though, there was also a different sensation that it awoke within you, one that caused your eyes to flutter down towards his lips, an action that your bodyguard surprisingly mirrored as well as your heated breaths synced up. 

You had no idea who moved first, if it was you or him, but the next thing you knew, you were kissing him.

With adrenaline still pumping in your veins, you clawed at his broad frame as you let your tongue flicker out and flutter against his own. The steely hand that had locked itself around your neck softened and whisked down your form, mirroring your own starving touch as he securely held you like you were about to fall. 

However, just as your palm slid down to find the bulge in his pants, rubbing it needily before your fingers tried to seize the short zipper, Bucky took a large step back, snapping to his senses and creating a wide distance between him and your melted form against the brick. 

His eyes refused to meet your foggy ones as he held them to the ground, slowly catching his breath before uttering, “get in the car,” defeat shining through in his low tone.

“Bucky–,” you tried, but without success as he then cut you off. 

“Please, just–…” his gaze fluttered shut a moment as you then heard him sombrely promise, “look, I’ll make sure your mom doesn’t hear word of what happened tonight. If we go now, then we’ll arrive before any of the staff wakes up, no one will notice.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[keeryhours]

zombie movies & first kisses - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x female Henderson! reader

Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Dustin thinks Steve and his sister would make a great couple. They’re both obsessed with each other, they just don’t know it. They just need a little push.

Just first date fluff :)

Warnings:

None, just Steve fluff, kissing, zombie movie references

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N:

Excited to get my first Steve story posted! Joe Keery holds my heart in every role. I hope you enjoy this little fluffy story! Requests are open.

—

“She does not like me.” Steve sighed, scooping the mint chocolate chip ice cream and placing it on the waffle cone. He handed the ice cream to the waiting customer with a forced smile.

“She totally does,” Dustin said with full confidence as he leaned against the counter, watching Steve work. “She has Mrs. Harrington doodled all over her notebooks. I’ve seen them in her room.”

Steve laughed. “For some reason I don’t believe you.”

“Why would I lie about that?” Dustin asked, throwing his hands in the air. “You think I haven’t snooped in her room to find all the embarrassing stuff she writes about?”

“It’s not that I doubt your level of nosiness,” Steve said, moving on to helping the next customer. “I just think you’re lying because you want me to embarrass myself by asking your sister out.”

“Oh my god,” Dustin groaned, getting frustrated with his older friend. “I am not trying to embarrass you. She likes you. You’re practically obsessed with her. You’re both obsessed with each other, really. But neither of you will make a move!”

Steve considered his words as he took another order. “You’re not messing with me? You actually think she’s into me?”

“Dude, I know she’s into you. Just ask her. She might pass out on the spot, but she’ll say yes when she wakes up.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, okay. Maybe when I’m not in this stupid uniform, though.”

Dustin asked Steve for a ride home after he and Robin got off work. Steve agreed, but took the time to change out of his Scoops Ahoy uniform and into a pair of jeans and a shirt with the first button undone before he left.

Steve’s mind was racing as he drove towards the Henderson house, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel nervously. Dustin didn’t miss it, watching his friend with a smile on his face.

When they pulled up outside of the house, Steve was relieved to see Dustin’s mom wasn’t home. She could be a little overbearing.

Steve walked with Dustin up to the front door of the house, following him inside as he let himself in.

You were lounging in the living room, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a rainbow t shirt that clung to your body in just the right way. Steve gulped when he saw you, his heart rate picking up.

“Hey, sis,” Dustin greeted you, a big dumb grin on his face.

You looked up from the TV, a shy smile spreading across your lips as soon as you saw Steve. You worried all of a sudden that you should have picked a cuter outfit, should have done your makeup.

“Hey,” you greeted your brother. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve smiled at you, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of it. He was just so cute, you could hardly handle being around him.

“I’m going to get started on my homework,” Dustin announced before scurrying out of the room before either of you had the chance to say anything. You briefly thought about how it was summer and he didn’t have any homework, but Dustin was always up to something weird so you just brushed it off.

Steve stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before he slowly walked closer. “Uh, how have you been?” he finally asked.

“Good,” you answered. “I’ve been working at the movie theater for the summer.”

“Oh, cool!” Steve said, and he seemed genuinely interested. “Do you, uh…like it?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” you said. It was pretty cool as far as jobs go, you got to see free movies whenever you wanted and your coworkers were fun. “How’s Scoops Ahoy?”

Steve felt embarrassed at the mere thought of you seeing him in his uniform. “Oh, it’s fine. Free ice cream, you know.”

“That does sound nice,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, smiling down at his feet. “Hey, uh, actually,” he began, his eyes moving back up to meet yours, “I wanted to ask you something?”

“What’s up?” you asked, looking at him curiously.

Steve looked nervous, which wasn’t something you had seen very much from him. “Um, I was just wondering, you know…if you’d want to go out with me this weekend?”

Your eyes went wide at his question. “Like- like a date?”

Steve smiled at that - you weren’t outright rejecting him, and you’re just so cute. “Yeah. I was thinking like a date.”

You blushed then, looking down for a minute before you met his gaze again. “Sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Steve’s smile grew. “Yeah? How about Friday night? At 7?”

“Sounds good,” you answered, butterflies in your stomach already.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” Steve said, the grin staying on his lips as he turned and walked back towards the front door. “Later!” he called as if both to you and Dustin, before he was out the door.

You waited a full minute after he left before you grabbed a pillow from the couch and pressed your face into it, screaming and kicking your feet.

Dustin came running into the living room.

“Did he do it???”

—

When Friday rolled around, you spent the entire day freaking out about the date. You started getting ready early in the day, starting with a shower, where you took the time to thoroughly shave, not missing a single spot. You dried your hair afterwards and spent ages styling it until it laid just right. You went with a more natural makeup look, which took a lot more time than it looks like. You finally dressed in a short brown skirt and white top.

Dustin was excited for your date with Steve, but even he was at his limit by the time you got ready. He was sick of you staring at yourself in the mirror and asking his opinion on a million different outfit combinations.

When the doorbell rang, you were still looking in the mirror, making last minute touches to your appearance. Dustin answered the door, a huge grin on his face.

Steve stood there, looking nervous and handsome. He wore a button down shirt and jeans, his hair styled perfectly. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. Dustin just looked at him with that dopey smile on his face.

“Hey,” Steve greeted. “Is your sister ready?”

“Yeah,” Dustin answered, moving out of the way to let Steve inside. “She’s been done for at least an hour already but she won’t stop looking at herself in the mirror.”

Dustin yelled for you as he followed Steve into the living room. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you took one last look in the mirror before leaving your room.

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw you - you always had that kind of effect on him, but you looked especially beautiful tonight.

Steve told you so as you approached, and you smiled and blushed as you took the bouquet from his hand. Your fingers brushed against his as you took it, and it sent jolts of electricity through your whole body.

You brought the flowers to your nose, smelling them - they smelled lovely, fresh - before you said, “I should go get these in some water,” and scurried off to the kitchen.

Steve could hear the sound of water running moments later, and Dustin would not stop smiling at him like a crazy person. You were back before they knew it, smoothing down a piece of your hair as you walked.

“Ready to go?” Steve asked, holding out his arm for you.

You smiled as you linked your arm with his, and then the two of you were headed towards the door.

“You kids have fun! Don’t do anything too crazy!” Dustin called after you.

You rolled your eyes but laughed as you left the house. Steve smiled and shook his head, leading you towards his car parked against the road.

He opened the passenger door for you, and you smiled at him as you climbed in. You buckled your seatbelt as he walked around the front of the car, and you couldn’t help but admire just how handsome he was as he walked in front of you.

He climbed into the driver’s seat next to you, giving you a quick smile before he got himself buckled and started the car. He turned some music on, quiet enough that you could talk over it.

“So, where are we going?” you asked him as he pulled onto the road and began driving.

“I was thinking we could grab something to eat and see a movie? That is if you’re not tired of movies, working at the theater and all,” he said, suddenly second guessing his choice of a date.

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of movies,” you said, reassuring him. “I actually haven’t even seen one in a while.”

Steve smiled, your words making him feel better. “Well, good. I thought we’d see the movie first so we could talk about it over dinner.”

You smiled at the thought he’d put into this, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. You resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hair.

The drive to the theater wasn’t long, its proximity to the house was a factor in you applying there in the first place since you didn’t have a car yet. Steve pulled into a parking spot, killing the engine and turning to you.

“We have options,” he said, before he began listing all the different movies playing.

“Day of the Dead!” you exclaimed when that option came out of his mouth. You didn’t need to hear any more. “I’ve been dying to see that one.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah? You’re into horror movies?”

“They’re my favorite,” you said, which made his smile grow wider.

“That’s cool,” he said genuinely, and then he was climbing out of the car, quickly jogging to your side to open your door before you could do it yourself. You couldn’t help but giggle at his effort. He was being so cute, a total gentleman.

“Plus I can hold you if you get scared,” he said, grin still on his lips as you took his hand and climbed out of the car. “Or you can hold me if I get scared.”

You laughed, which only made him smile bigger.

The two of you walked towards the ticket counter, and Steve bought and paid for your tickets. Your friend and coworker, Alice, was working the ticket counter, and she gave you a sly grin as she handed the tickets over.

“Have fun, you two,” she said, with an obvious double meaning to her words. You blushed, knowing there would be questions at work. Steve didn’t miss the teasing, either.

He encouraged you to pick whatever you wanted from concessions. You got a large popcorn to share, you each got a soda, and you both picked out your favorite candies. You weren’t sure if he was going to be paying, so you brought money with you, but Steve didn’t even hesitate to pay for everything himself.

Steve had the huge tub of popcorn and a million snacks balanced in his arms as you carried the two drinks to the theater. You were relieved that it wasn’t crowded, and you found two seats together towards the back that gave you privacy and had a great view of the screen.

You got settled next to each other, drinks in the cup holders and snacks distributed between you, and you realized just how close he was. His knee brushed against yours, the rough feeling of his jeans against your bare skin sending chills through your body.

The movie began, and you shared the popcorn, your hands brushing together whenever you’d reach for some at the same time. It would send a jolt through your body, and the way his eyes would dart to yours made your heart speed up.

You were loving the movie, it was just as good as you had hoped. About halfway through, Steve shifts closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. It’s the oldest trick in the book, but it makes you smile, and you shift further into his embrace, which makes him squeeze your shoulder.

You have an even better time watching the movie snuggled up against Steve’s side. You take in just how good he smells, something you had never thought about before, but of course he was perfect in every way.

By the end of the movie, your nerves had gone, comforted by the feeling of being pressed up against Steve. It felt right, like it was where you had always belonged.

“What did you think?” Steve asked as the credits rolled and the lights came back on in the theater. He gathered up the trash from your snacks.

“I loved it,” you answered honestly, standing as he did. “The special effects were so cool.”

“Definitely,” Steve agreed with you. “That part where they pulled that guy apart was crazy.”

The two of you left the theater, dropping your trash in the can on the way out. As you walked together out of the building, Steve reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. It surprised you, but you certainly didn’t mind, holding his hand back and smiling to yourself.

Steve opened the door for you again before he climbed in on his side. You had been chatting about the movie since it ended, both of you having enjoyed it a lot.

Steve began driving again. “What are you in the mood to eat? I had somewhere in mind, but if you want something specific, we could go anywhere…”

“I’m sure whatever you picked out is perfect,” you gripped his hand over the center console, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He smiled back at you. He loved the way you always put him at ease, even when he was so nervous about impressing you.

Steve pulled into the parking lot of a steakhouse. Not too fancy, but not super casual either. Despite the theater snacks, you felt your stomach grumbling at the idea of getting something good to eat.

“They have all kinds of stuff here, if you’re not into steak,” Steve said quickly as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“I’m a big fan of steak,” you laughed. You were already thinking about what you’d order.

You waited for Steve to come around this time because you knew he’d want to open your door for you. He helped you out again, and the two of you walked hand in hand into the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you both with a big smile. “Just 2?” she asked, which Steve confirmed. She led you to a booth, giving you both a menu.

“This place is nice,” you complimented as you opened up your menu, examining the many options.

“Yeah, I’ve been here with my parents a few times, it’s good,” he said, looking over his own menu before he looked at you again, smiling. “Never brought a girl here, though.”

Knowing you were the first girl he’d brought on a date here made you feel something. You didn’t consider yourself to be a jealous person, but you had been jealous when Steve dated Nancy. You didn’t love the idea of Steve with other girls, so the knowledge that this was new territory for him too made you smile.

Your waiter came by and took your drink orders. You looked over the menu for a while longer before you were satisfied you knew what you wanted.

You were in a deep discussion about the movie when the waiter came back to take your orders. You ordered a steak, of course, with fries. Steve ordered the same thing, shooting you a smirk.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Steve complimented when your plates were placed in front of you. “I think I already said that tonight, but I couldn’t tell you enough times.”

You blushed as you looked down at your food. “Thank you,” you said. “You look really handsome. I mean, you always do.”

Steve smiled bigger at that, beginning to cut up his steak. “I always do, huh?”

Your blush grew deeper. You didn’t mean to make it sound like you had been obsessed with him, even though you have.

“You always look beautiful,” he added softly.

That made your heart flutter in your chest. He had noticed you. You always thought he didn’t know you existed.

You ate together, talking about the movie, other movies you liked, how your summers had been going, all kinds of things. Steve made you laugh a lot. He was so naturally funny, and he’d really become more of himself since school ended. He didn’t care so much about being popular and impressing his friends and looking cool. He just cared about being authentic.

When dinner was over, Steve got the check before you even had a chance to see how much it was. You offered to pay half, but he shut you down quickly.

Back in the car, he drove with one hand, intertwining his free hand with yours over the center console. You sang along to music together on the way home, and you thought this may have been the best night of your life so far.

Steve pulled up outside your house, turning the car off.

“I really had an amazing time,” he said, turning to look at you. “You’re so great to spend time with.”

You smiled at him, your cheeks heating. “I had an amazing time too, Steve.”

Steve grinned at you. He placed a hand gently on your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin there.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…” he mumbled, almost as if only to himself.

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t think he could have possibly meant it, but his face and eyes show only sincerity. It makes your heart thump harder in your chest as you look into his eyes.

He leaned in, slowly, giving you ample time to push him away. You don’t, of course. You never realized how kissable his lips were until you were this close.

His lips pressed against yours, and they felt so soft. You practically melted into his kiss, your lips moving against his as you kissed him back eagerly. He led the kiss, being more experienced than you were, you gladly let him.

You could have kissed him all night, you think, but your mom was home now and she’d be coming out to check on you if you lingered in the car for too long.

Steve finally pulled away, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. His thumb traced over your lips, wet from his kisses.

“I want to see you again,” he said, his eyes finally moving from your lips back up to your eyes. “Soon.”

“I’d like that,” you said. You were surprised how weak your voice sounded, you cleared your throat.

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked.

“Tomorrow?” you raised your eyebrows. “Uh…yeah. I’m off work tomorrow, too.”

Steve smiled. “Good. Me too. I’ll come pick you up at around 12, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

Steve opened your door for you one last time before he walked you to your front door. He leaned in and placed one more quick kiss to your lips. “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” you echoed back to him, and then you let yourself into the house, giving him a little wave as he turned to walk back to his car.

You sighed as you entered the house, feeling like you’d been holding your breath all evening. You couldn’t wipe the dreamy grin off your face.

The living room lamp turning on and Dustin speaking nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Tell me everything.”