#and thinking about the last of us campaign i’m finishing on friday

[spacetrashpile]

god i love when ttrpg campaigns haunt a song every time you ever hear it

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 17/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Seventeen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 1

Tim slept in his bed one last time while I packed our things. My phone rang, and I answered to keep from waking Tim up. “Hello?” I whispered. 

“Jason, I heard about your friend’s mother—.”

“You don’t have to say anything… Um, Barbara, can I ask you for a favor?” I interrupted. 

“I don’t know. It depends… Is it illegal?” Barbara asked. 

“No. It’s—. I need you to help me get back in fighting shape. I know Bruce won’t change his mind because I can throw a couple of solid punches, but I’ve gotta do this for myself. I need to know I didn’t let the accident beat me,” I explained. I told her as much of the truth as I could. 

“Jason… Wednesday through Friday after school. No excuses,” Barbara replied. I grinned. 

“I’ll be there. I promise,” I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Barbara. You’re the best.” Barbara was a tough person to move. She wasn’t emotionally driven or faint of heart. Barbara was sharp and efficient. Practical and poised. She was everything I needed in a teacher. 

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah. See how you feel about me after our first training session. Bye, Jason… And good on you for getting back up. I thought about what I said to you the last time we talked. I was wrong to tell you that you were being childish. If taking this time away from home was good for your mental health, who am I to tell you—?”

“Barbara, I am a kid. I never said I wasn’t. I was pissed off and closed in, and I reacted. I was in a dark place, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted to go home now… I know it’s what I have to do. I’m gonna be mature about it, for Tim’s sake,” I replied, “I’ve gotta finish packing… But, um—. Thank you, Barbara.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Boy Wonder. See you Wednesday,” Barbara teased. She hung up, and I shook Tim awake. 

He pushed my face away and laughed. “ Uggghhh. Jason, what are you doing?” Tim asked. 

“She’s gonna train me. Wednesday through Friday, so we’ll condition Saturday through Monday,” I replied. Tim grinned. 

“And on Tuesday ?” Tim half-joked. 

“Warlocks and Warriors,” I replied, “And—. Oh, Ives wants to come over tonight. I gave him Bruce’s address and said he could stay the night.” 

“Ives wanted to hang out? Does he—?” 

I nodded. “Ives knows, but I asked him not to mention it… Unless…” I trailed off. Tim shook his head. “Then, he won’t…” I tied labels to Tim’s chargers and tucked them into his suitcase. 

*

We went to the manor at sunset because I knew Bruce wouldn’t be there. Alfred seemed happy to see us again. Ives showed up an hour after we got there, and Alfred served dinner. “Hey, guys… Do you wanna do another campaign here this weekend?” I asked. 

Tim’s eyes widened. “You want to?” Tim questioned. I nodded. 

“That’d be sick,” Ives replied.  

“Cool. Tell the guys Tuesday we’ll hang out here,” I replied. Ives glanced at Tim and looked at his plate when he saw me looking. Tim was oblivious to everything going on in his life because of everything. 

“Jason should DM this one,” Tim suggested. I choked. “Come on. You can do it. I see how deep you get into character. And you’re the only person willing to indulge Hudson. Besides, I think the guys are still mad at me for what happened in Ravenloft.” 

“That was messed up. I can’t believe you killed Ives first and swapped him out with a Doppelganger. That was sick. And Ives… I’m shocked you let him go through with that,” I replied. 

Tim smiled. I reached for my bed to pull myself up, but I felt a shockwave shoot down my back into my legs, and I let go of the mattress. “Jason?” Tim asked. 

“I’m okay… But like—. Are you guys sure you want me to DM?” I questioned. 

“Yeah, definitely,” Ives replied, “You’ve gotta try it at least once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, but you should give it a chance. You might be good.” 

*

"In the living forest lands of Malatra, all seems quiet. Suspiciously so. A warm breeze blows, rustling through the canopies overhead. Topiaries of smiling children surround a small fire. It is the only possible sign of life for several miles.  A song breaks through the near-silent forest. It starts low and guttural, like a collective groan, and then the ethereal choral collections of synchronized sobs. It is a song of mourning. A once-distant sound, now building as if it is approaching. The forest's dirt walkways slowly disappear under shrubs and bushes, and it seems like a trick to the eye at first, but no. You see it now. The bushes have feet where roots should be, and finally, a male voice breaks through the grieving chorus," I cleared my throat. "State your business," I bellowed. "He steps forward. A bamboo elf. His hair is a warm brown with the same red undertones of autumn leaves. He keeps his hair in wide and intricate waves and curls. His skin is an olivine green, and his eyes dark brown and ancient, study you. You all recognize this bamboo elf immediately, but before we get into that… you should introduce yourselves." A big, goofy grin spread across Tim's face. Silence fell over my room as I waited for someone to speak.

"You fucking killed it," Hudson mumbled in shock. I covered my smile. "Clay Everlake, earth genasi monk here. I'm stone grey, with bright green hair made of leaves, with the front pulled into a warrior's bun—."

"Man bun penalty!" everyone shouted.

"Is not! Anyway ... It's a warrior's bun, and the rest of my hair hangs leafy down my shoulders. I'm fairly young, rough and tumble, and trouble seems to follow me wherever I go," Hudson answered.

I gestured to Ives. "Eldrid Deepwood, here. I'm a firbolg druid... I uh—. I have bluish-green skin and dark eyes. My hair is whiteish-grey, luscious, and thick, almost mane-like. My ears are floppy... And uh—. And despite my advanced age, I'm a timid sort of fella," Ives stammered in an Irish accent.

I nodded and pointed to Hudman. "Fettar Keephorn. Dwarven rogue, dark beard, dark brown eyes.  My loyalties lie with Clay Everlake... Unfortunately," Hudman muttered in a dry voice. We all laughed. "I'm not much for words."

And Tim. I looked forward to Tim's character because we'd been pretty hush-hush about our plans all week, which meant we had nothing to discuss outside of training. "Posy Moonfall, gnome cleric here. I've got blond shoulder-length hair and grey eyes hidden behind foggy glasses. Well, they're usually quite—. I'm not used to being in the presence of a man of Mr. Deepwood's stature. I'm clumsy, but my intuitive nature makes up for my shortcomings... At least, I think—. Oh gosh. Am I rambling?" Tim replied in a woman's voice. He was surprisingly good at it. I almost forgot my place.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Clay Everlake, your connection to this bamboo elf is deeply personal. Isn't it?" I asked, nodding at him. I liked Hudson. He always made me laugh and was my favorite of Tim's friends. He also tried to make me feel better about my scars by showing me the dent in his forehead. It wasn't the same, but he genuinely thought it was.

"He raised me. When my family was slaughtered on the outskirts of Malatra, he took me in and raised me. He's a father to me," Hudson answered. Hudson and I locked eyes, and I smiled down at my notes. "I didn't expect to see him under such grim circumstances."

"And Fettar?" I questioned.

"The elf and I… used to date,” Hudman replied. We all laughed.

“Fettar and Theren Everlake dated? You guys were—.” 

“A couple. Yep,” Hudman doubled down.

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a making a comeback

11:45pm Sunday, June 18, 2023

Went through my drafts folder today, scrolling quickly past all the posts I’ve saved for when I’ve finally finished succession and found that the last time I drafted a commonplace book post was back in early May? I may post that one later—it’s a bit of a time capsule now, and isn’t even fully finished (hence why I saved it rather than posting). but rather than wait for perfection—my lesson of the year it seems—I’ll dash off a short one here. for my own entertainment, which of course is the point.

[no read more on mobile; scroll or press J to skip]

Reading just started victoria goddard’s bee sting cake, the second book in the greenwing & dart series. jemis’ narrative voice sounds a little too much like fitzroy’s — exacerbating my prejudice against first-person narration where the pov character just kinda sounds like the author’s mouthpiece—but seeing more of ragnor bella, this area of the twelve kingdoms, these references to the Interim and the Last Emperor, remains delightful. Also about 80% of the way through ursula k. le guin’s a wizard of earthsea for the very first time, which has been a slow because I’m absolutely savoring it. one of those books that feels like it’s in conversation with Tolkien but goes about ‘let’s make magic literary’ in a totally different way.

watching the aforementioned succession. @hematiterings and I were doing a rewatch (for me; her first time) and we have now gotten up to season 4 episode 3, You Know the One, which means that there’s only one more episode before I’m in new territory. it’s been a really rewarding rewatch, even as I’ve been doing laptop work the whole time—I’m understanding characters’ relationships and the stakes of different decisions and events so much better than I did the first time.

listening for some reason this week and last I have not been able to get enough of Hildegard von Blingen’s bardcore covers. Specifically the cover of taylor swift’s willow, which is not a song I knew, cared about, or really even noticed before now? But it the bardcore cover elevates it so well? hildegard’s voice is so lovely? one of those sopranos I usually don’t quite believe are real—just a pleasure to listen to. bad romance and holding out for a hero have been on repeat as well, and pumped up kicks (buskin boots!) is so much more interesting than the original, but willow has been the one I actively searched by name.

playing d+d campaign one tonight for the first time since FEBRUARY. it was good! we laughed! R tried to seduce a jaguar! we might be starting a schism in a fantasy meso-american religion or possibly playing the ball game to avoid that! we won’t be able to play again until late July, early august! The real boss fight is—has always been—scheduling.

making look at this dining room chair I glued back together.

No after pictures yet but it was clamped for a few days and has now been back in use with no ill effects since…gosh, last weekend? so we’ll count that as a win.

working on between finishing my most recent slog of grading (32 review assignments, which I spent waaaaaay too long on out of an anxiety of needin to help them revise for their final portfolios) and the next round of grading (final exams for 385 are due…thursday, possibly? and portfolios Friday, though I expect I get many either late or with extension requests, my fault entirely), I think I have to write at least one job app for June 30 and. maybe try to slap some new stuff into ch 2. or conference paper? hm.

[darkerknowledge]

OPEN DND ONE SHOT ON DISCORD

Hello, I’m planning on running ‘Prisoner 13′ from the upcoming dnd book ‘Keys from the Golden Vault’ on Friday the 17th of February at 6:30 PM CST. I will be the DM. I’m looking for 4-5 people to join me as adventurers! If you are interested, there’s more information below the cut.

How does dnd on discord work? It’s a lot like in person play, I will narrate, you will interact with your fellow party members during exploration/roleplaying. Combat is the only thing different since we won’t have physical battle maps and minis to use.  How will combat work?  I will have a hand drawn map that I will stream via webcam. I don’t paint minis, so it’s a lot of ‘this is a dragon, this is you, what happens?’ Do I have to show my face on discord to a bunch of strangers?  Nope! I won’t be. Are you LGBTQ+ friendly? Yes! Will this be a good space for women? Also yes! Age requirement?  18+ preferred, not out of any explicit reasons, but when everyone is over 18 it makes it easier. If you are younger, let me know as we will talk about it and mention it to the table so nothing inappropriate happens. How much does this cost?  A whopping 0 dollars! Are you a good DM? I had a dnd show for awhile, I wrote content for dnd as a freelancer for a third party publisher for awhile, and I’ve been DMing for four years this summer! I’ve had players stick around long enough to finish 3 campaigns, and that number keeps climbing! I’m not very experienced, is that okay? Sure, as long as your familiar enough with the terminology, we can work together. If you’ve watched a dnd show like Critical Role or Dimension 20, you should be good. I am newbie friendly!  Why are you blazing a post for a one shot?  I want to meet cool dnd friends, and I’m hoping after a trial run of one shots, if we all like each other, it’ll turn into a weekly or biweekly campaign! How long will the game be?  I’m not sure, there’s all sorts of ways the game could be short or go longer. I’ll confer with everyone on how long they can stay, and find a good stopping place if it goes on too long. Then we will do a part 2 if you all want to. You needn’t worry about having to go to bed and the rest of us playing. Will there be a session 0?  Yes and no. For a one shot, I don’t think we need to meet up beforehand, but there will be safety tools in place (such as lines and veils) and what I call ‘hard-no’s’.  What is a hard-no? There are a few things that I as a DM am uncomfortable with running, and therefore won’t. For example, explicit roleplay. This will be covered by a ‘fade to black’ if it even comes up (it probably won’t.) If you had to rate your content like a movie what rating would it be? Pg-13 that allows you to say ‘fuck’ more often than just once. I cuss a lot, but less out of anger and more filling in my sentences.  Can I play homebrew?  Not for a one shot. The limit is officially published classes/subclasses/species/subspecies with stuff Matt Mercer made by approval.  Is there anything banned? Yeah, Silvery Barbs and bigotry. 

What if I want to play the one shot but not the campaign you’re looking to start? Yeah, that’s fine. This isn’t a contract.  Can I talk with the other players to build a better team composition?  If you all are the type of players to want to build a group together, you are more than welcome. However, you should be able to go through the one shot playing whatever you like. I will balance for the party rather than the last person who joins getting pushed to healer if there isn’t one already. Your fun is important! If you want to be a tiefling warlock and we have 2 other warlocks, then who cares? ELDRITCH BLAST FOR DAYS, YO! Can my friend join? Yeah, if there’s room.  What if I really want to play and miss an open slot?  The more the merrier, I say. I’m also building a discord server for dnd nerds to have fun, so you could join that one and play something else! What are your inspirations? I love horror, but this isn’t a horror game. What I like about the fantasy genre is how cinematic it can be. It’s fun to narrate, like jumping in the air and bringing an axe down on the dragon’s head while it tries to shake you off, but you hold on! That’s epic! I love that, but I also love down to earth character moments, too. Your party slayed the ancient dragon and now have its hoard. Do you keep it and run? Do you pay off your debt to the Thieves’ Guild? Or are you Robin Hood types? What happens when all three of those are in the same party? Nicholas Eames, writer of Kings of the Wyld and Bloody Rose, is pretty similar to how my games feel, but with a lot less wink-wink-nudge-nudge third wall breaking.  What if my question wasn’t answered here? I’m here to answer questions. My ask box and my direct messages are open! 

[thessalian]

Thess vs Good News

Iiiiiiii’m going to MCM Comic Con! And if the stars align and everybody’s on the ball, Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii’m finally getting autographs from the cast of Critical Role! As soon as I heard they were coming back, I was emailing my mother being like, “Hey, remember about three years ago when I asked for an early Christmas / birthday present in the form of tickets to the event and autographs? And then Covid happened and the whole thing had to be scrapped and I was very sad? Well, they’re finally coming back so could we do that deal again, please?” And she said yes and I just now got the ticket confirmation and I think I’m pretty clear on how to get an accessibility badge and while I’m not relaxing until I have autograph bookings for the cast, I am still at least going!

But no, I’m not going to see them run live at Wembley. I did try, but they got sold out way too fucking fast. Which is disappointing not just because I wanted to see that once-in-a-lifetime thing, but also because my bestie threw money at me for the tickets pretty much ten seconds after I squeed about it, because he so wanted me to be able to go because I wanted it so much. But I think in the end it’s just as well. The accessibility options for Wembley are a little ... complicated if you’re not straight-up in a wheelchair, apparently.

(Bestie would not let me give the money back. I asked repeatedly. He said no. So I thought long and hard about something he would really want me to have and did that instead. I’ll show you later.)

Anyway, insofar as the convention goes, there is one tiny bummer. See, when I asked for this as my combination Christmas / birthday gift three years ago, I asked my mother to maybe come with me on the Friday. I really want her to see a convention, at least a little bit, on the least busy day so she doesn’t get overwhelmed. So obviously when the opportunity came around again, I asked her to come with me on the Friday. Unfortunately she’s going to be in Montreal so she won’t be able to make it. So I’ve said maybe we can make a day trip of it in May 2024 and I’ll buy her ticket that time. Because gods know this is almost certainly going to be the last convention I attend in full. It’s going to be rough enough as it is.

There is one plus point to Mum not being able to make it, though, and it comes back to yet another previous convention - one that actually happened. When the CR crew came to London five years ago, they had to arrange a separate smaller panel on Sunday because it was standing room only and still hundreds of people couldn’t get in. Seriously, because the UK is easier to reach for people in Europe and other parts of the world than the US is, we got people from all over Europe and beyond. Furthest away I heard about was the Philippines. (Though in fairness it’s going to be slightly more complicated for Europeans this time around because Brexit is in full swing and Freedom of Movement is a thing of the past. Still easier than flying to San Diego, and probably cheaper too.)

Anyway, Sunday panel, I was in the queue, and I’d made it a point to say something nice to people I came across because I wanted them to have as many good memories of the day as possible. So I told the young woman in the queue just ahead of me that I liked her T-shirt. She reciprocated the compliment, we got to talking, and she was saying how she’d really love to find a campaign and that mine sounded fun but wasn’t it a shame she lives in France but I live here in London? At which I had to explain that my party spanned three countries and four time zones at that point. So, two weeks later, we had a new Monster Hunter Ranger in the party, and she’s been a source of delight ever since.

She’s trying to arrange to come back to get pictures with the cast members she missed (Travis and Laura were on paternity leave at the time, and Ashley had Blind Spot to finish), and if she can come, I have offered my sofa for a few days and the possibility of getting a carer badge so that she can help me if I’m in too much pain or hit with a dizzy spell or something. We’ve discussed it and I just told her that if she really feels like she needs to contribute, she can toss me £20 for groceries while she’s here (because you know I am going to take every opportunity to cook for people I care about). I haven’t seen her in person in years and I hope she can come. (I mean, I’d love it if all of my players could come but it’s an expensive trip and I only have so much sofa.)

So yeah, if all plays out according to plan, I’m finally getting those autographs. I do need to decide once and for all whether I want them to sign my copy of Tal’Dorei Reborn or the original Green Ronin Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting. I’m leaning towards the latter just because ... I mean, it’s where they started, and look at them now! Plus I want them to sign something sturdy because while I have kept them in good condition, I do occasionally fear for my small collection of autographs from the likes of Courtenay Taylor, Mark Meer, Ali Hillis, Alix Wilton Regan, Raphael Sbarge (his in particular, honestly), and Troy Baker calling me ‘Rebel Scum’ because I mained a Jedi Consular in SW:TOR.

(Okay, I originally mained a Smuggler in SW:TOR but then my RP guild wanted a healer for Ops so ... yeah. Republic anyway.)

So ... fun D&D session yesterday, and now good news today, and the added gloriousness of, “A bunch of nerdy-ass voice actors are going to sell out Wembley fucking Arena".

Sometimes life is good.

[jammie3132]

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Summary: Before they began dating, Blaine told him he wanted to be wooed. Now he’s saying it’s too much and to rein it in. One look at a calendar and Sebastian knows he's screwed. But if that’s what Blaine Anderson wants, that’s what Blaine Anderson will get. Notes: Roses and Chocolates

Season 4 AU: No sad Blaine. Bad Klaine break-up but no cheating. No Hunter. No steroids. Tie at Sectionals similar to what happened in Season 2. In other words, ignore the stupid stuff.

However, this one time, we’ll accept the stupidity of canon trying to convince us Lima and Westerville are practically right next to each other so Blaine doesn’t have to drive 2 hours (each way) to school every day.

September

School had been back in session for a week before Sebastian finally gave into Niff’s whining and agreed to go to the Lima Bean. He’d been avoiding the place because Blaine was always there. They shook hands at Regionals, but nothing came of it. They still weren’t talking. But Niff insisted there was something he had to see. It must have been big considering two cars full of Warblers followed them.

When he walked through the doors, he knew exactly what they were talking about. There, in all his glory, was Kurt Hummel wearing an apron, exactly as he’d predicted last year. Oh, he was going to have so much fun with this.

3 Weeks Later

Fridays were half days at Dalton. It was so those leaving for the weekend had time to prepare. This weekend he was staying back to study for his first big Economics (the subject that was going to kick his ass) test. But he could do that later. Right now, he felt like going on a run. He got ready but then changed his mind. He was still going for a run but was going to drive to Lima instead of using Dalton’s track. There was a little park there with a running trail he enjoyed. It also just so happened to be across the street from the Lima Bean. When he finished his run he could get an ice coffee and participate in his new favorite hobby Annoy the fuck out of Hummel.

After 3 weeks some would think he’d grown tired of it. Those people obviously didn’t know him.

High on the endorphins running gave him, Sebastian mentally organized the new zingers he’d come up with. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the coffee shop Hummel wasn’t there. Blaine was.

Shit!

Before he could make a hasty retreat, his former friend (and first boy he fell in love with for more than 20 minutes) called him over.

Shit!

"Shouldn’t you be in class at that public school you slum in?”

"I’m playing hooky.”

"You? Golden Boy Blaine Anderson is skipping? I’m both impressed and curious. What was so important you brought out your inner rebel?”

"I ended my relationship with Kurt.”

October

Blaine was meant to play Teen Angel. Watching him go down those stairs, dressed all in white and singing like a dream was doing things to him...naughty things.

That day in September when Blaine told him he had ended it with old Gayface, he immediately started his Come back to Dalton campaign. The former Warbler had a dozen reasons why he couldn’t. At the time, only one made sense. He didn’t want to change schools yet again (even though the first one wasn’t his fault). It wouldn't look good on his transcript.

Now, seeing Blaine Anderson own yet another stage, he could see another reason for his choice. Dalton didn’t have a Drama Club. Despite only having one scene, any performing arts college admissions officer would be able to see he was the best thing about this monstrosity. He hated to admit it, but this mess desperately needed Rachel Berry. It wasn’t like they weren’t already using graduates. For some reason Santana Lopez was playing the second female lead. Blaine explained why but all he heard was blah blah blah…Sam’s not happy about it…blah blah blah…he’s dating Brittany…blah blah blah…Santana’s ex.

This bit of information, plus the break-up of Berry and the Oaf gave him enough to keep him entertained both before and after the Teen Angel portion of the evening. Hummel looking back at him every 5 minutes also helped. He made sure to give him a little wave every…single…time.

Blaine warned him it would take around a half hour once the play was over for him to be able to leave, but it had almost been an hour. He assumed the delay was people trying to talk him into going to the cast party at Breadsticks. It was no secret Hummel (and the other graduates) planned to ignore the fact it was a cast party and crash. He decided to give it 10 more minutes before he went to find his unofficial, maybe someday, boyfriend. 

But then the yelling began.

“Are you kidding me? Never mind, I know you’re not. You expected me to sit on my ass and pine for you until graduation. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Sebastian…”

“Sebastian is none of your damn business.”

“I knew you're cheating on me!”

That was his cue. He ran down the hall and around a corner to find Blaine with the current New Directions on one side and Hummel and the graduates on the other. Fucking great. The one thing Blaine made him promise was not to instigate an already tense situation. Wait…he was on the other side of the building. He (technically) had nothing to do with this showdown starting. But he knew a way to end it.

Game on!

He walked through the Old New Directions, winked at the NYADA reject and handed the flowers he brought to Blaine’s new (McKinley) BFF, Sam. Then, without a word, took Blaine in his arms and kissed him…hard. Blaine caught on and jumped up, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a Koala. When he grabbed hold of the Koala’s (perfect) ass to keep him up, the comments began. Applause erupted from the current New Directions side. Sam yelled Go get it, Anderson. There were catcalls from (who he believed was) Lopez. He was a little too busy to check it out.

If Hummel responded, it must have been at one of those pitches only dogs could hear. When they finally broke apart, he was in a best kiss I ever had daze and didn’t know what to do next.

Blaine did.

“Thanks, Babe. And Kurt, I'm not cheating on you. Not because I'm with Sebastian but because I broke up with you.”

“So, you are sleeping with Smythe!”

Now he knew what to say. “Why? You want to watch? Maybe I can teach you a thing or two. The New York Gays aren’t into, shall we say, vanilla. Then again, neither is B. Oh…you didn't know? You're a bigger idiot than I thought. Sorry about that B...in more ways than one.”

"It's alright. I'm sure the differences in my sex life have been highly speculated since you came back into my life."

Dog whistle, incoherent screaming

“Come on Killer, let’s go.” He took the flowers back from Sam and walked over to Artie (the director on Blaine’s side) “Apologies, but Blaine will not be attending the cast party.”

“No apologies necessary”

They went back to Dalton and crashed the Warblers monthly movie marathon. When Nick took Blaine upstairs to get some pj’s his phone started to go off. Of course, it was Hummel. He said to let it go to voicemail, but Thad answered it. He was able to use the words mock or mocking eight times before the other end went dead. The Warblers who were at Dalton with Hummel were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Someday, someone was going to have to tell him what that was about. When Blaine and Nick returned, he told Blaine what happened. He just shrugged then sat down next to him, stealing half his blanket. After grabbing his phone and blocking his ex's number, Blaine told the story of what happened after the play.

The movie marathon was scrapped. The group spent the rest of the night telling stories and laughing. At one point, some of the guys brought down their laptops and graduated Warblers were Skyped in. He learned what was so funny about the word mock. It was his favorite story after the one where Blaine jumped on a 100 year-old table, broke it into pieces and then somehow managed to charm the headmaster into not giving him detention for destruction of school property.

Fucking amazing

Blaine smiled the entire night until exhaustion took over. By this time, he’d hogged the majority of the blanket and was once again practicing being a Koala bear.

Again, fucking amazing

"Hey, Seb. Did we ever tell you about the Gap Attack?”

Thad took off at a full sprint when Blaine instantly woke up at the mere mention of the Gap Attack. It was ok, he knew the story but never got why it was such a big deal. Because, seriously, how could anyone reject such a grand gesture from Blaine Anderson?

November

The Warblers and New Directions decided to combine their We won Sectionals parties since technically they both won.

“A fucking tie? How the hell did we fucking tie?”

“It’s happened before” Sam reminded him, only slightly slurring his words. “When Blaine and he who shall not be named were at Dalton. Blaine took the lead on both songs and knocked them out of the park. Then Quinn and I did an awweeesooome duet. You know, I really liked Quinn but then she started sleeping with…yeah, I’m drunk.”

“Slept with who? Come on Evans!” Good thing that Sugar girl’s basement was huge so there was plenty of other furniture for the others. Sam was out cold. Watching his girlfriend eye fuck her ex all night probably contributed the situation, especially when that Quinn girl actually fucked some guy behind his back. But who?

He needed to find Blaine.

It didn’t take long. He was off to the side talking with the Oaf. If he understood what happened, the guy flunked out of the Army and has now taken over the New Directions since Schuster abandoned them. Fuck! He was also Hummel’s stepbrother.

Everyone knew their kiss after Grease was just to piss-off Hummel. It must have worked because the delusional diva-wannabe had gone silent. That changed today when he called Blaine, five minutes before they were supposed to go onstage. His number was supposed to be blocked but somehow rang through. That could wait. The real problem was figuring out what triggered the call in the first place. Since he wasn’t going to get answers from the fucking narcissist, the Oaf would have to do. “Did you tell the Bad Fairy what a dick move it was to call Blaine right before the New Directions went on stage? Or at least find out what the hell he wanted?”

The Oaf looked toward the ground and huffed, the international signal for you’re not going to like this. “Kurt thought he and Blaine would get back together when he was here last month. When that didn’t happen, he told anyone who would listen he found out Blaine was cheating on him with you even before he left for NYC. Supposedly he's been super depressed enough for his boss to call him into her office yesterday. She told him he’d never be able to move on until he offered forgiveness to those who wronged him. Kurt called Blaine so Blaine could apologize for cheating on him and then he could forgive him.” The Oaf and Blaine silently waited for a response. It wasn’t what they expected.

Full-on laughter

When he was able to breathe again, he sobered (not really, he was still pretty drunk) up to stare the Oaf directly in the eyes. He seemed a little taken aback. It probably didn’t happen very often. The dude was tall, but so was he. “Seb…”

“No, you’re going to listen to me. Tell that delusional son-of-a-bitch to stop saying shit about me and Blaine. If he says no, remind him my father is the State’s Attorney. I will never…ever see the inside of a jail cell. Oh, sorry Blaine."

"Don't be. Even if I wanted to press charges, which I didn't, the idiot gave away the evidence." 

"True." He turned his attention back to the Oaf. No, really turned. It made him nauseous. "And also let Gayface know my new, very good friend Sugar told me her Daddy can dispose of a body so it's never found. Got that?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

He (slightly) nodded his head (still nauseous) and backed off. Blaine was smiling that smile that made him want to drop to his knees and offer everlasting fidelity…and give him a blowjob. However, this wasn’t the time or place. “Now that we’ve got that settled, can one of you tell me who the asshole was that fucked Sam's girlfriend behind his back? I need to kick his, or her, ass. No, I can’t hit a girl. Hey, Sugar! Come over here. I might need a favor!”

December

“Explain it to me one more time.”

"You understood the first time. You understood the second and third time.”

"I understand the part about Sam and Brittany getting married…”

"Fake married”

"But they didn’t know it was fake.”

Blaine lifted his coffee and gave it a slight tip, acknowledging his point. “Touché. So, what don’t you understand?”

"How Sammy-boy is still walking around. I thought Lopez would be here on the first flight out of NYC. She might not be as delusional as Hummel, but even I can tell she thought Britt would come running back if she changed her mind. The true question is she pissed because her ex moved on, or that Britt moved on with Sam, Satan's other ex?”

"You know about Sam and Santana?”

"I know he was just a beard but didn’t know it. Those girls in the New Directions treated your BFF like shit, which is really, really bad considering I'm the one saying it. You’d think he’d be quite the catch with those lips. Since he’s on team vagina…”

"Stop! Sam’s my best friend.”

"Are you telling me you’ve never thought about what those lips could do if he was on his knees…”

"Oh my God! Don’t put that thought in my head!”

He had to admit he’d thought about Sam that way a time or two, but it was always centered around Blaine. Primarily, what would happen if the guy was a switch hitter. He and Blaine were extremely tactical together. He’d watched them hug more times in 3 1/2 months than his parents had in his lifetime. They also had a cool nickname…Blam. He and Blaine needed a nickname. Bastian? No…Seblaine. Image Hummel’s meltdown hearing the Seb in his name replacing the K in Klaine.

"Earth to Sebastian. Please tell me you’re not thinking of Sam giving you a blowjob.”

"I wasn’t until…kidding. I’m only kidding.” He took a sip of his coffee before changing the subject. It was time to push things forward, or at least find out if it was possible. “But I was thinking about how close you and Sam are. I mean you were practically holding hands the other day when I picked you up. If your BFF could be your BF, would you be with him?” Well, that sounded stupid.

"Have I thought of me and Sam together? I'm a 17 year-old gay boy and he's gorgeous 17 year-old boy with six-pack abs. Of course, I've thought about it. But I'd never do anything to jeopardize our friendship."

Good! “So, if Blam is totally platonic, what about dating in general? You’ve had enough guys hit on you at Scandals. Or are you still not over Hummel?” Please be over him, please be over him.

"I don’t think the guys at Scandals are looking for dates. And I’ve been over Kurt for a while now." YES!!! "I should tell you something.”

That didn’t sound good. “Anything”

“Burt, Kurt’s dad, came to see me the other day and asked me to go with him to NYC for Christmas, obviously to see Kurt.”

WTF?! “He knows you and Hummel aren’t together anymore, right? Or didn’t he care.”

"It’s not like that.” Blaine finished his coffee before sitting back in his chair. “You can’t tell anyone.”

"Done.”

"He has cancer. Cancer is what killed Kurt’s mom. Burt’s going to NYC to tell him in person.”

Great, now he feels like an ass. "I’m sorry. I know you’re still close to him despite everything. But that doesn’t explain why he asked you to go.”

"He thought I would…you know what? I don’t really know why he thought it would be a good idea. Sam overheard Burt on the phone with Kurt and he mentioned our annual Christmas duet tradition. Maybe it was something to do with that.”

"Christmas duet tradition?”

"The first song Kurt and I sang together was Baby, it’s cold outside. And you saw the Christmas TV Special the New Directions filmed last year.”

"And you were great. But you said annual tradition.”

"Last year and the year before.”

“Killer, doing something two years in a row isn’t an annual tradition, it’s a coincidence.” For some reason Blaine began to laugh then volunteered to get them another round of coffees and a couple of Christmas cookies. When he returned the laughter had stopped, but the boy across from him seemed lighter somehow. “What did I say to put you in this mood? Not that I’m complaining.”

"Don't get mad but I was feeling a little sad about the Christmas duet tradition until you called it a coincidence."

O...K? "Why?"

"When I took the time to look back on my relationship with Kurt, I realized we didn't have a quote/unquote thing. The closest I could come was the duets."

"Nothing else? You were together over a year."

"Exactly. He gave me red and yellow roses once, but it was his attempt at an apology for accusing me of stealing Tony, West Side Story, from him. Even before the official announcement, it was pretty clear I had the part considering Artie had me read with both Rachel and Mercedes. Don't ask." He made the locking gesture over his lips. This sounded like the beginning of a rant, and he didn't want to stop progress. Hopefully, it would give him the information he had (badly) been trying to get since they got there.

"After that, every romantic gesture came from me. Hell, I weaved together a bow-tie ring out of gum wrappers. Don't ask." Wouldn't dream of it. "Oh, I forgot. He did give me a stuffed dog when my brother he was visiting, who by the way, Kurt didn't try to hide his massive crush on. Anyway, I was so touched he thought of me that I didn't wrap my head around the story of the dog until later. The seniors were at the amusement park for Senior Skip Day. Rachel made Finn play the games so he could win her stuffed animals. On the way back, Kurt thought of me, or Cooper and thus me, I don't know, and realized he didn't bring me back anything, which he said he would. So, he stole one of Rachel's multiple animals and gave it to me, saying she wouldn't miss it. He didn't win the dog. He stole it and then told me like it was no big deal."

"That's...that's a lot."

"I've got dozens more."

"No, that's ok. I believe you." And he had enough information. Anything more would just piss him off and cloud his focus. "So, what you're saying is when you're ready to date, you want to be the one who is...I know there's a word."

"Wooed. Yeah, I want to be wooed. And not just wooed. Bigly wooed. Hugely wooed. No, humungously wooed."

"I don't believe anything you said was grammatically correct."

"I don't care. I want chocolates and roses..."

"Just not red and yellow ones."

"Exactly! And besides being humungously wooed, I want to be with someone I don’t have to hide myself from. He’d have to accept my inner Geek…comic books, video games, Star Wars…”

Shit! "That eliminates me from the pool of potential boyfriends. I will never understand Star Wars. At least the canon…”

"Oh My God!!! I told Sam to stop sending you links to clone/clone smut!”

"I can’t help it. I find them fascinating. I mean, they’re clones of the same guy. So, the clone is basically having sex with himself. How is that not Masturbation?”

December 23 in Lima/December 24 in Paris

"Hey, Killer. I thought we agreed to Skype on the 26th after we opened our gifts?"

Blaine smiled and picked up Sebastian's (already opened) gift. "You got me a stuffed dog!"

"It's not the 26th!"

"I can't believe you actually thought I'd wait!"

Yeah, he should have known better. "Just so you know, I didn't win him, but I did build him."

"You went to Build-A-Bear and made me a puppy? You know what Build-A-Bear is?"

"Trent did. Then I asked Sam if he thought you'd like it. He showed up with Tina because she wanted to make sure I didn't fuck it up."

"You...?"

Something changed. Blaine had been like a hyperactive puppy...oh, now he gets the whole Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom thing Sam went on and on about. "You ok Killer?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great." It looked like he hugged the stuffed animal tighter, but he couldn't tell for sure. The Skype was a little fuzzy. "Open your gift."

"No..."

"Open it. I want to see your face." When he came back with the box, Blaine was practically bouncing through the screen. "Open it!"

"Ok, ok...oh. Men of McKinley?"

"January and December."

"Jan...oh, shit!" 

"Remember when I told you the New Directions had to raise money to get a handicapped accessible bus for Regionals? Ta-da!"

"Um..."

"Speaking of January, December, do you want to get dinner before Sugar's New Year's Eve party?"

"Sure. Breadsticks, since it seems like that's the only place the New Directions go?"

"No, when I said dinner, I meant just you and me."

🎉🎉🎉"That sounds great."

December 31 11:59 PM/ January 1 12:02 AM

When the kissed ended, he lowered his head to put their foreheads together. "Blaine Anderson, I promise I am going to humungously woo you like no one has been humungously wooed before."

February

Blaine was in the Warbler Commons holding the basket he had delivered to McKinley. The Warblers were nowhere to be found. Thad told him Good Luck when he literally ran into him in the hallway but didn't say anything about canceling Warbler practice. Regionals were in 3 weeks. "Hey Babe, do you know where the guys are?"

"I asked them to give us some privacy." He held up the basket before setting it on one of the sofas. "You've got to stop, Bas."

"You don't like the puppies? They're for Bas Dog. The puppy with the pink bow is Alexandra and the one with the blue bow is Devon." Blaine sighed, then took his hand, taking him to the sofa across from the basket. "Did I do something wrong? You're the one who said you wanted to be humungously wooed."

"And I love being humungously wooed by you, but it's every day and I can't imagine the amount of money you've spent."

"That's not my fault, it's yours." Shit! He didn't want to tell Blaine this but no lying or hiding feelings was their Rule #1. "Remember the day you came to my house to help put away the Christmas decorations?"

"Yeah, there were a lot more than I thought there'd be considering your family spent the holidays in Paris."

"When you're a politician, you've still got to keep up appearances. Anyway, New Year's morning, after my wooing promise, I realized something. I had no fucking clue how to woo someone. Then I made a humungously big mistake. I asked my mother."

"Your mother is a lovely woman. Maybe a little over the top."

"No, and I love her, but she's an overbearing French snob who looks down on everyone and everything...except you. You come over, being all charming, (air quotes) forgetting not to call my parents Ma'am and Sir. You brought delicious homemade muffins you baked that morning because you didn't have a hostess gift. I invited you for manual labor not a dinner party."

"It was the polite thing..."

"And then when you and Mother went missing, and Dad and I found you both at the piano singing the score to Les Misérables? My dad pulled me aside and told me he was doubling my weekly allowance but called it my Don't fuck this up fund. Later that night, after you'd gone home, Mother came to my room and gave me a 3-hour lecture on wooing. Then she told me she was tripling my weekly allowance but called it my Don't fuck this up fund."

Blaine's smile was the only thing holding back his laughter. "Did you tell Vivian your father had already given you a raise?"

"Not at first. I thought she was just adding on to what Dad had already done. But when I checked the next day, the original amount was now five times larger. I told them but they waved it off. So, long story short, I haven't spent nearly what I could have. I didn't want to freak you out. And if you haven't guessed, my parents really like you."

"My parents like you too. If my father says the word "upgrade" one more time..." Blaine kissed his cheek but he could tell it was about his developing relationship with his father more than what they were discussing. It sometimes overwhelmed his boyfriend (he loved saying that) how he and Patrick Anderson got along so well. "Thank you for telling me what your parents have done but I want you, and your parents, to understand something. You're an amazing boyfriend and not because of the gifts. Ok, not just because of the gifts. If you don't believe me, believe the universe. You got into Harvard and I'm going to Berklee. We applied to those schools last year, when we weren't talking."

"Berklee was your backup school."

"Yes, at the time, but I could've chosen NYU and didn't. Something was steering me toward Boston. You're stuck with me. And maybe Brittany. Evidently, she's some sort of math genius and MIT is flying her out for further testing."

"That...that...that...huh?"

"I can't explain it either. I'll let you know when I know." Blaine got up and came backed with the two stuffed animals. "I love being wooed by you. Puppies for Bas Dog is incredibly sweet. The problem I have is you keep sending everything to McKinley."

"Are any of those assholes giving you crap because your boyfriend is sending you gifts?"

"No, it's not because you and I are gay. It's because Valentine's Day is next week. Today, a group of guys came into the Choir Room after Glee begging me to ask you to stop. Their girlfriends are constantly pointing out what you've sent me. No way can they live up to those expectations."

"That's not my fault."

"I know, just please, nothing else to McKinley until after Valentine's Day."

"Fine, but afterwards we're back to humungously wooing?"

Blaine sighed and gripped his hand tighter. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"But..."

"I had an idea. Have you heard about Wes' Lent Challenge?"

"Yes, but you know my opinion on organized religions. They call me an abomination. I call them a bunch of hypocritical pedophiles."

"And I agree, but the Challenge wasn't about religion. It was about creativity, but we didn't get to choose what to give up. I had to give up boy band moves for 40 days. We were getting ready for Regionals!"

"Boy band moves?"

"And jumping on furniture."

"Ah, that makes more sense." Something about the way Blaine was looking at him let him know he wasn't going to let this go. "What's your idea?"

"Let me show you my Blaine Anderson everything has to be over the top skills and allow me to take over Valentine's Day."

OH, HELL NO! "That's not going to happen. We can both do Valentine's Day."

"That's what I figured you say. But I want you to understand, I'm with you because of you, not that you're the King of Humungously Wooing. You do believe that, don't you?'

Uhhhh... "Maybe"

"I know the Lent Challenge is a bit extreme, but I couldn't think of another way to get you to stop wooing me and let me prove to you how we can be really great without it."

Maybe he'd been going overboard. At first, he could blame having no idea how to be in a relationship and then bringing in his parents. Then Hummel found out they were together and conveniently came back to Lima to check on his dad, despite just beginning classes at NYADA. If he was there for his dad, how come he was at McKinley daily "helping" Schuster and the Oaf get the New Directions ready for Regionals? That's when he started sending the gifts to McKinley. But once he started, he couldn't stop. Ok, Hummel said something about Blaine will dump him once the gifts ended and he'd be there to pick up the pieces. 

He wasn't proud that he'd let it get to him.

"So, nothing to McKinley until after Valentine's Day. Then wooing, just not humungously wooing. And then, the Lent Challenge." He leaned in and kissed his boyfriend...his boyfriend. Yeah, he should learn to accept that. "When does Lent start?"

"It's not like Christmas. It's the 40 days before Easter and Easter's usually somewhere in April."

Later that evening, he pulled out a calendar to find out exactly when Lent began. 

Oh, shit! He's so screwed.

But if that’s what Blaine Anderson wants, that’s what Blaine Anderson will get.

February 14th

The next week was pretty great for him and Blaine. Sam on the other hand...

Brittany broke up with him via text, when they were in the same room, because her cat told her to. The next day she flew off to MIT. The breakup (dumping) was most likely due to that, but the cat story was more fun.

Sam's pain was real, and he kind of felt bad, but it gave him the opportunity to woo Blaine but look like he was cutting back at the same time. Thankfully, even after all the money he's spent to this point and the money he was spending on Valentine's Day, there was still a substantial balance in his Don't fuck this up fund.

Sugar told him she didn't know what guys did, but when girls had a breakup, they usually spent the next few days in bed with friends (to tell you what a jerk your ex is), ice cream (to eat your feelings) and a movie (probably the Notebook). That wasn't going to work, but it gave him an idea. He and Beat (the Warblers gaming expert) went to the mall. Two Play Stations and multiple (including the latest Marvel and Star Wars) games later, they moved on to the grocery store. Sam watched what he ate (obsessively) so he didn't know what ice cream to get. He bought them all along with everything he needed for a sundae bar.  

While took the haul back to Dalton, he went to Hummel's house to kidnap Blam. He thought the Oaf was going to swallow his tongue when he opened the door to see him standing there. It wasn't a picnic for him either.

Sam protested but Blaine convinced him to go with it. When they got to Dalton and saw the setup...2 large TVs with a game station on each, stacks and stacks of pizza, a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages (the good stuff was for later) and a freezer full of ice cream...the McKinley boys were in complete shock.

"Sugar told me about the ice cream, Notebook, friends version of a post-breakup party, but Sam's a dude. I thought video games, junk food, ice cream and later, alcohol, sounded better. And for once, you're not going to scrutinize everything you eat. We'll deal with the aftermath, you know, after. And before you ask, I didn't invite anyone else from McKinley because Britt is their friend as well. Here, you can trash her all you want and nothing gets back to Satan."

As the Warblers took Sam under their wings, Blaine drug him to his dorm room and gave him the best blowjob of his life...times 10! Not that he expected it to happen but...holy shit! Maybe there was another way to woo Blaine Anderson.

But that was last week. Today was Valentine's Day. The creme de la creme of romantic holidays. All other wooing meant nothing if he didn't get this right. He knew it wasn't true, but it sure felt like it.

He honored Blaine's wishes and sent nothing to Mckinley. They agreed to meet at Dalton and he was pretty sure some of the guys were helping Blaine with something. It was driving him nuts. To make it worse, his Economics (his worse class) teacher noticed he was distracted and called on him constantly. Asshole!

When class ended, Jeff took one arm and Nick the other. Without explanation, they escorted him to the Conservatory on the other side of the Academy. Blaine was at the grand piano wearing the same outfit he was wearing when they first saw each other. He was even wearing the bowtie, which he didn't do as much anymore. 

When your legs don't work like they used to before And I can't sweep you off of your feet Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love? Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

And, darling, I will Be loving you 'til we're 70 And, baby, my heart Could still fall as hard at 23

And I'm thinking 'bout how People fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Well, me, I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am

So, honey, now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are

"Did you like it?"

"I loved it. You know Ed Sheeran is one of my favorites right now, but, isn't there more?"

Blaine picked up a gift sitting on the other side of him and brought it over. "I thought we'd save the rest of it for later."

He opened the box and... "Holy shit! These are front row! And backstage passes! How? I thought about this but he's not performing near here."

"I know, those are for his Boston show. It's during Spring Break. I thought we could go check out the campuses and surrounding area. It would be nice if we could find a coffee shop before we actually move there."

"Oh, wow, yeah. Wait a minute, your parents agreed to me and you going to Boston unchaperoned?"

"So, did yours."

"That's not surprising. They love you. I wouldn't be surprised if they find some apartments for us to check out while we're there." He leaned in to thank his boyfriend for the amazing gift when... "Seriously Killer, how did you get these? From what I've heard, he doesn't allow backstage passes unless he personally approved them."

"Cooper"

"Cooper? You're brother, Cooper?"

"When Ed first moved to LA he lived in the apartment across the hall from Coop. They became friends. Since my brother had never asked before, Ed was more than willing to help him out. However, this does mean I owe him a HUGE favor. I don't really want to think about it." Blaine went up on his toes and kissed him before taking a step back, obviously anticipating something. "Well?"

"Well? Oh, you want your gift." He reached into his messenger bag and handed his boyfriend a small box. "I hope you like it. I tried to remember everything you told me."

Blaine's blazing smile faded the moment he saw the contents of the box. "A chocolate bar and a plastic flower?"

"Rose. It's a rose. I remembered when you went on your original wooing rant, and you said you wanted someone who would give you chocolate and roses. And I hope you noticed it's white, not red or yellow."

"I noticed, but...I mean, I know I asked you to scale back, but it's Valentine's Day."

"And?"

"And what?"

He opened the calendar on his phone and showed it to his thoroughly confused boyfriend. "Today is Valentine's Day and the first day of Lent. Easter is early this year. Maybe next time you get a big idea, you should make sure of the details before implementing it."

It took a little bit of time before Blaine put it all together. "The Lent Challenge. You were supposed to stop with all the gifts for the Lent Challenge."

He tried hard to suppress the snark in his expression but couldn't. "I couldn't get you nothing..."

"Oh, no, this is great. You did exactly what I wanted."

"Excellent! Let's go to the Commons. I want to show the guys what my wonderful boyfriend got me for our first Valentine's Day." That was laying it on a bit thick, but he'd already gone this far. Blaine trying to smile and saying how much he loved the candy bar and dollar store flower was pretty pathetic. "That's strange" he said when they found the doors shut. "We've got practice in 20 minutes." He opened the doors and stood off to the side.

"Oh...my...God!" Blaine ran right past him. Inside the Commons were seven (one for each week they'd been boyfriends) bouquets of a dozen white roses. There were also a dozen handmade chocolate hearts from the best chocolatier in Paris. 

"Like I said. I remembered you wanted to be with someone who would give you chocolate and roses. I thought maybe you would forgive me this one..."

He couldn't finish the sentence when Koala Bear Blaine returned, kissing him with everything he could put into it. When it ended, there were tears on both their faces. He's never understood happy tears until Blaine came into his life. "Are you ok?"

"More than. And I promise, I will never question your wooing again."

20 Years Later

The noise of his husband and children carried up from the kitchen to his bedroom, even with the door closed. Sebastian was making Alexandra and Devon heart shaped pancakes as he had every year since they ate solid food. He always made sure not to go down to the kitchen until they were finished. This was a tradition between just the three of them. Sebastian also kept up the tradition of giving him chocolates and roses for Valentines Day. The most memorable was during their senior year of college. They flew to Paris so Sebastian could take him to the chocolatier who made the chocolates from the first year. Inside one of the hearts was an engagement ring.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a small box. It was the secret he hid from everyone, even the man he married. Inside were his two favorite possessions in the world…a chocolate bar wrapper and a plastic rose. The moment Sebastian explained the logic behind them, he knew he’d marry that boy someday. He had listened to him. He had paid attention. No one had done so in a very long time. THAT was the greatest gift he ever received.

"Daddy”

He quickly put back the box and turned to see 4 year-old Devon, the spitting image of his husband. They were in so much trouble in approximately 10 years. “What are you doing here Mr. Man? You know the rule about knocking.”

"Sorry Daddy, I’m xited.”

“That doesn't excuse not knocking. Now tell me, why are you excited?”

"Papa put choccy chips in the heart cakes! And he making flower cakes!”

“Chocolates and roses” he couldn't help but smile at the fact Sebastian was still a total romantic. He'd always been, it just took him a while to trust it. ”Wow, those sounds amazing!”

"Can you eat flower and heart choccy chip cakes with me and Ally and Papa?”

"Oh Sweetheart, pancakes are your Valentine tradition with only Ally and Papa.”

"But Papa says we can have new dition with you. But we has to do it three times or it’s a co…co…”

Killer, doing something two years in a row isn’t an annual tradition, it’s a coincidence. "The word is coincidence and your Papa is right, as usual. Let’s go start a new tradition.”

Thinking Out Loud: Sheeran, Ed 2014

[heyitsme1040]

Don't Want to Overstay [e.m]

summary : You lost track of time hanging out with Eddie. You felt like you needed to go home, but Eddie insisted you stay the night. An unexpected sleepover in your boyfriend’s bed is too tempting to pass on.

pairings : Eddie Munson x Reader

warnings : None, (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 760

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day twenty-nine of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘sleepover’. 

Eddie’s new trailer was much bigger than the old one. They’d been offered a small house, but declined in favor of staying in the trailer park. You had stopped by the trailer after work to spend time with Eddie, glad he was all healed from the bites. You’d greeted Wayne on your way in while he was leaving for a shift at the plant. Now you found yourself enjoying the company of Eddie, having nothing to worry about since it was Friday. 

You laid on your stomach, arms wrapped around Eddie’s waist while his legs bracketed either side of you. He had his Dungeon Master’s Guide open and resting on your back. You hummed along to the music coming from his stereo. Eddie used one hand to turn the pages while his other rubbed your shoulder. 

“What’re you thinking of doing for the next campaign?” You asked him. 

“That’s what I’m trying to decide. I don’t know if I want this one to be more puzzle or combat focused. What do you think?” Eddie tapped his fingers against the paper. 

You hummed, thinking about the last campaign. “I know you finished the last one with more combat. You could start it off with more puzzles and slowly devolve into riddles controlled by a combat situation.”

“You think?” The sound of him flipping pages frantically drowned out the music. 

“I mean, why not? If you want to do puzzles it can make an interesting start. But I don’t know how long the others will be interested by them. So then you can transition to riddle based puzzles. If they choose the wrong door or something, then when they go through it they have a combat encounter. And overall you can have them trying to escape from some compound that they found themselves in from an evil wizard.”

Eddie let out an excited laugh, “You’re a genius!” 

You lifted your head up, gazing into his dark eyes. “Really? You don’t think that’s too cheesy?”

“No!” Eddie glanced at the clock. “I need to ask for ideas at one in the morning more often if this is what you come up with!”

Your eyes widened, having not noticed the time. You untangled your arms from behind Eddie and moved to grab the book from your back. Eddie grabbed it off of you and you sat up fully. 

“When did it get so late?” You moved to find your shoes. 

“It’s not that late,” Eddie sounded amused. “What’s the rush?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Nothing, I just didn’t know it was this late. I should head home, and you need to sleep.”

“So do you,” Eddie countered casually. “Just sleep over.”

The offer stopped you in your tracks. You’d stayed over before, but that had usually been planned. You hadn’t slept over in Eddie’s room so casually before. 

Eddie smiled wider, “C’mon, like you said it’s late. I wouldn’t want you driving home when it’s this dark out. Just spend the night, you can leave after breakfast if you want to.”

You thought about how tempting the offer was. “I don’t want to be inconvenient,” you voiced the reason for your hesitance. 

“Nonsense, you could never! Besides, I love falling asleep with you.”

You thought about it a moment longer. Your apartment was fine, you didn’t have a shift this weekend, and it made more sense to stay over. “Alright,” you smiled. 

Eddie cheered, loudly expressing his excitement. He got up from the bed and started grabbing pajamas. He tossed you a shirt and one of his few pairs of shorts. You slipped into the bathroom to put them on, and when you came out Eddie was already wearing his own sleep shorts. You got into his bed, pulling the covers close to you. You watched as Eddie moved through the room, turning off the radio and putting his book up on the cluttered desk. He switched off the light, and you hear him stumble in the darkness while moving toward the bed. The bed shifted beneath him as he laid down. 

When your eyes adjusted to the dark, you gazed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair up and you could clearly see his eyes. Your gaze flitted between his eyes, observing the way his pupils swallowed up the brown until there was barely any left. Eddie pulled you closer, burying his face into your hair. 

“Sleep well,” Eddie spoke. 

“Good night,” you kissed the partial skull that was left on his chest. 

Eddie pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Good night.”

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[runningmunson]

Eddie’s S/O taking care of him | Headcanon

● Eddie can take care of himself, he’s been doing it for years. Yes, Wayne helps but he works a lot so Eddie is home alone most of the time.

He is messy, unorganized, chaotic, follows no schedule, just goes with the flow.

Eddie is the kind of person who is so caught up in the things that he loves that he often forgets to do basic life necessities like eating, going to bed at a decent time, laundry.

That was before he started dating you.

● It started off small at first, you noticed that he didn’t eat school lunch and never really brought anything more than trail mix so you took it upon yourself to pack an extra sandwich for him.

Later on in your relationship when you began to spend more time at his trailer you realized they hardly ever had real food in the fridge.

○ “Eddie, when was the last time you had a home cooked meal?”

○ “Does frozen lasagna count?”

○ “No, Eddie. That definitely doesn’t count.”

From then on you always made sure Eddie had a home cooked meal, whether it would be at his trailer or your home. You even made sure to make extras for Wayne.

On mornings after you stayed the night you would quietly slip out of Eddie’s grasp and make breakfast before work, leaving a plate for Eddie and Wayne on the table usually with a note that said “have a great day!”

You sometimes have to literally feed him when he gets caught up with learning a new song on the guitar or creating another campaign.

Most of the time he has a guitar or pencil in his hand, you sitting next to him making him open his mouth to feed him because that boy didn’t need to get any skinnier (but something about you feeding him kinda turned him on).

● Eddie usually had a pile of dirty clothes in his room that he only washed when he absolutely needed to (and you bet he smell checked clothes to make sure they were okay to wear again).

You made it a habit to wash and fold his clothes when he was at hellfire club, bedding was included in this.

They once had a sale on bed sheets so you bought Eddie a new set (throwing out his old stained ones), let’s just say Eddie loved christening the new sheets with you.

● Eddie would stay up all night if it wasn’t for you.

You’ve always been pretty regular about your bedtime, you went to sleep at 10:30 every night and always felt well rested the next morning.

The soft light of his lamp and the sound of crinkling paper used to wake you up most nights.

○ “Eddie, come to bed.”

○ “Not yet, sweetheart.”

○ “It’s 3AM and you have school tomorrow.”

○ “I’m trying to finish this new campaign for Friday.”

○ “Edward Munson, don’t make me say it again. Get your ass in bed now.”

○ “Christ, fine! You’re so bossy.”

Eddie liked to pretend that he was annoyed by this but he loved nothing more than your inviting embrace waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally got in bed and to wake up the next morning still in each other’s arms.

● If Eddie had a long shift at the mechanics shop you bet there was a warm meal on the table, clean clothes and towels waiting in the bathroom, his favorite movie rented, and you excited to greet him. It was his favorite sight and he didn’t think he could love you more.

Some days he was so exhausted he would immediately throw himself on his bed. You were right there to take his shoes off, help him undress, usher him in the bathtub, and wash his hair for him. He had some of his favorite conversations with you during these moments.

● It’s not that Eddie couldn’t do all of these things himself, but you just genuinely loved taking care of him and doing all of this for him. He had to take care of everything from such a young age because of his parents. You unfortunately couldn’t take that away but you could control how it would be moving forward. Eddie deserved the world and you sure as hell were going to give it to him.

[spring-picnics]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟕𝟎𝟎 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭. {𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞}

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Another successful campaign.” Eddie’s voice booms across the room as you, Dustin, Mike and Lucas all share around high fives.

Once the night finishes, the gang filter into Steve’s car. You don’t know how you’ve managed to make it to the passenger seat, but you pray that nothing will go wrong. Your relationship with Steve has been so fragile lately. Somehow, in the course of a few weeks, your whole dynamic has shifted.

Steve had been… distant. The late night calls and daily check-ins have dwindled into messages from Dustin and Robin that Steve didn’t have time to give. It’s a shitty excuse and you both know it, but at this point, you would rather not bring it up; confrontation is not your strong suit.

One by one, each kid gets dropped off, and the loud background noise that has been anchoring you, is silenced. Finally, the only two people left are you and Steve.

“We need to talk.”

Your heart is definitely slipping beats, but this is your Steve. The same Steve that buys you ice-cream when you cry, who watches your mini fashion shows, who fought a demogorgon for you.

“I’m sorry Steve, but we can’t fix this unless you tell me what’s wrong.” How was fighting a horde of demodogs easier than this?

Steve’s foot is shaking and you can tell that something is off.

“I… it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything.” The words can barely come out. They keep mixing up in his head, but he knows that he has to do this.

“Steve you won’t even look at me.” Your whisper acts as a final straw. And when he finally turns around to face you, you’re breathless.

His eyes are glistening and wet in the moonlight. His lips are red and slightly bloody. His face is warm and flushed, and you don’t know how to feel.

“I need you not to say anything or.. or do anything for the next few minutes. To just let me finish,” Steve breathes out.

You nod and completely tune in. First you look at him with reassurance, and then you leave your hands out for him to hold, hoping that you could somehow comfort him.

Steve reaches for you and then continues. “Do you remember what I told you about Nancy and the six nuggets.” He looks up to you giving him a gentle nod.

“I used to think that my dream was to have a family with Nance, but I, I realised it’s you.” Your reassuring look is replaced with confusion as Steve fumbles on. “I mean, sure Nancy was there, but you were too. All along, you were playing with the little Harringtons and driving with me out front and changing the radio channel to whatever you wanted, and I can’t believe that it took me this long to figure it out, but I’m,” he sighs heavily before looking right at you, “I’m in love with you.”

And the confession hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve Harrington, your Steve Harrington has been hiding from you, not because he was mad or didn’t want you, but because he is in love with you. And now, your Steve Harrington is about to cry with the weight of your rejection on his shoulders, because you haven’t said anything for several minutes. His eyes are threatening to spill tears and he can’t stop rambling when you finally kiss him.

When you eventually stop to take a breath, Steve looks up at you with wonderment. You can see the whole night sky in his brown eyes while stares at you and then places his hand behind your neck, so he can go back in for more.

Finally, after the realisation that you need to go home, you question Steve: “So, will you pick me up this Friday at 7?”

As you get out of the car, Steve gently whispers, “for a date?”

You smile at him and lean back in for one last embrace.

“For a date.”

@spring-picnics

[chopper-witch]

This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now. Please take it while I finish a one-shot. 

Gender-neutral reader!!!

Mad inappropriate perv!eddie thought coming through (throwing some modern and college while I’m at it) (sorry if you hate influencers of any kind idc it’s my job to deal with them).

I went to an art college… there were sometimes sessions on Fridays (no classes Fridays, those were makeup/studio/project/etc days) where people would come to pose and students could draw. There were never nude people in classes, even if the class was about people and anatomy (a lot of bone drawings and clothed posing though) for privacy and safety reasons. 

(I am altering some of how this worked, mostly how the models actually came in and posing and such).

There were extremely strict rules since these people were naked or mostly though. No device that could take photos. None. Just you and your mediums of choice unless that medium is digital. Then absolutely not. Also, if you were not there when doors closed, you were not allowed in. You cannot leave during.

Now Eddie, dear Eddie. He considered sound design. Maybe performing arts. Film and TV sounds cool. But after years of drawing character sheets and scenes from campaigns, he chooses sequential art (comic books, basically. Or film storyboarding/concepting or video game storyboarding/concepting but most common job is comics and graphic novels).

He hears about one of these drawing sessions. Not by checking his email that is full of information about what’s available that week, but because his Life Drawing I professor mentions it (this would be like his sophomore or junior year). He is kind of mad that no one told him before, but there was really no reason to. Plus, he would have known if he checked his fucking email.

He’s late the first time. But they have four a quarter, so it’s fine. He’ll just come the second time. He is late again, though.

Third time he gets there early. Puts his phone away like everyone else and finds a seat a little bit more towards the far edge of the circle. He doesn’t want other people to see his drawing. Plus, he’s tall. He can see over others.

There is a chair like you see at a classic psych’s office set up, and he is wondering what is happening today. So is most of the room, but at this point in the quarter, it is mostly people who have been at least once.

The door to the room shuts.

One of the professors in charge reminds everyone of the various rules. You are allowed to move around the room. You are allowed to come as close as the lines on the floor. Please keep talking to a minimum. Do not distract the model. Do not say or do anything inappropriate. Do not try to get the model’s number or instagram handle or whatsapp or whatever you kids are using now. Don’t try to get the model’s name. They are here to help with your education.

It’s just one model today. And only two poses. Midterms were last week and finals are ridiculously soon after. So take your time. Breathe. Focus on this.

The professor goes to another door Eddie didn’t see and opens it. He whispers something and out comes you, wearing a robe. He and everyone else stare (he checks to make sure it isn’t weird to stare and apparently it’s normal) as you walk over to the couch-chair thing. Before you sit, however, you remove the robe and drape it over the head of the chair. 

Now he is definitely staring. 

Staring intently as you lie down completely nude, carefully leaning on your right arm with a grin. 

“Draw me like one of your french girls,” you tease once you’ve fully positioned yourself into nearly the same pose.

But your hips are positioned differently, head cocked differently, back curved more. Forces people to have to draw what they see even more, not what they think they see (as he has heard thousands of times from all his drawing professors). That line from you was intentional to get people in their heads.

It’s not the line that gets in his head though. It’s you. He can barely draw. He glances around several times to see if anyone else is struggling and while he sees a few heated faces and adjusting of pants, everyone is still doing what they came to do. Some are even right up to that line two feet away, getting angles of your body he wishes he could get. But there’s just no way he could. Not if he doesn’t want to be that person.

At about the halfway point, you switch poses.

On your stomach, head propped up on hands, elbows bent to also left your chest off the chair. Your feet are by the head, up and crossed. Like some school girl listening to her best friend. But then you push your hips into that chair just a little more and your back curves and the pose morphs enough that he can see several more experienced life artists nodding in interest at the prospect of new curves and lines and shadows.

Somehow he gets through the two-hour session without creaming his fucking pants.

His sketchpad is almost entirely clean as well.

He breaks a rule. He finds the model later. He finds you. On accident. Entirely. He swears. A friend he made freshman shares a post of yours on Instagram. Apparently, you are a local influencer. Super sweet. It’s sickly sweet as he scrolls. Small business this, small business that. A video labeled “forcing guilt over fast fashion is classist” that he watches that talks about how if you have the money, there is no reason not to be buying ethical fashion but to be guilting people who don’t is irresponsible when the onus is on the businesses themselves. But there are hundreds of photos and videos of you across town. He hits follow. You are now. the only person he is following that isn’t a band he likes or a franchise he likes or one of his friends. But other students follow you, so what’s the big deal?

He puts notifications on so he can see when you post.

Every post is a jolt of serotonin combined with a rush of arousal. And he finds himself going out more over the next three weeks, trying out the places you suggest and seeing if he might see you again.

And the lives? When he can see you are at a restaurant just three blocks down?

Yeah. He takes a break from his work just to see if he can get a glimpse of you. But you are usually gone by the time he can get himself dressed and presentable and not hard as hell.

He goes again on Week 9, hoping you will be there (he doesn’t understand why it is weeks 2, 4, 6, and 9 rather than 2, 4, 6 and 8. He doesn’t want to wait 3 weeks). It’s rare for models to come twice in a row, another student mentions. But you’ve come a few times over the past couple of years, and every time is so much fun. 

“They’re really good at giving us unique poses to draw. And super nice. They’ll sometimes repost our work if we tag them, even though the professors don’t want us to follow and all that,” the student finishes with.

The door shuts. The professor opens the other door.

You’re back.

[nationalharryleague]

Portfolio

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Angst, Boss!Harry

Word count: 3.5k!

Warnings: Domestic violence mention, boss/employee dynamic

A/N: Hi! I decided to write another fic after Overnight was received so well! Again, thank you to anyone who read and enjoyed it! I’m not sure how I feel about this one lol but I think it’s good enough to post. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and send feedback! Thank you for reading!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist! 

Part 2

You had always been a teacher’s pet. Growing up, you were the kid who worked hard to get a 4.0 GPA just for the rush of getting a compliment on your intelligence from your teacher. You craved that validation for all the hard work you put in and you just wanted people you admired to like you. And not for nothing, you deserved the compliments. At work, you were the first one there and the last one to leave. You loved your job and it showed.

You were currently working your first job with any real power at an up and coming public relations firm, Styles Public Relations. SPR was quickly growing in size and recognition and being brought onto the team was a dream come true. You loved everything about working there. The offices were beautiful, it paid well, and your ideas and proposals were finally being heard and brought to the public. Well, you loved everything except one glaring, irritating, and gorgeous problem: your boss.

Harry Styles was a striking man. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and obscenely attractive. His skin was perfectly tan and when it got warm in the office you could see  beautiful tattoos revealed by his rolled up sleeves. Those sleeves were worth more than your life and his head-to-toe Gucci ensembles usually showed his wealth off well. He looked like he should be on the front of a magazine, not behind a desk. Well, he was on the cover of Forbes that one time. While he was so nice to look at, the man was anything but nice. He had an abrasive attitude and not much care for pleasantries or mincing words.

Today, you found yourself on the opposite end of his brutal disposition. You had brought a campaign proposal to him for a newly acquired client and he began to rip it to shreds.

“I don’t know why you thought this campaign was a good idea, Y/N,” he told you sternly. “It’s childish, silly, and unprofessional.” Every word he said dug into you. You tried to attribute his harshness to it being Monday, but you knew he would say this to you any day of the week.

“The client said they wanted something more playful to soften their image,” you defended yourself. “I was doing what they asked for.”

“Well, you did a terrible job at it.”

That stung. You had dedicated your life for weeks to this proposal and had expected him to love it. You hoped this was finally the proposal that would secure your position in his good graces. Apparently, not.

“Okay. I’ll restart the project with a different angle.” You moved forward to grab the binder off the conference room table and flee the room back to the safety of your office. You were shocked when he put his own hands on the binder and slid it away from you.

“You’re off the account. I’ll have someone else do a better job,” he spat. Now, that really hurt. Your ego was closely related to your career and you knew you deserved better than this. You did everything you could to hold back your tears, but one betrayed you and fell down your cheek. You believed you saw his hard exterior soften for a split second before his ruthless demeanor returned.

“Fine,” you breathed, never breaking eye contact with the cruel man. “I’ll leave you now, your highness.” The words left your lips before you could fully register them in your own head. You turned on your heel and rushed back to your office, thinking about the insubordination complaint coming your way.

“Did I just get myself fired?” you asked yourself softly when you were finally in the safety of your own office.

The rest of your week passed in a blur. By Friday, you had accepted your fate and decided to get every passive aggressive dig at your boss you could before you carried your things out in a cardboard box. When you saw him around the office, you made sure to make direct eye contact and shoot daggers his way and you responded to his emails with one word answers. You were also producing the best work you had in years. Turns out, spite was a fantastic motivator for you. If he was going to fire you, he would feel bad about it.

As usual, you spent your Friday night typing away in your office. You were a workaholic and had no problem with staying at work late. Unfortunately, so was your new nemesis.

You caught your first glimpse of him after-hours on a trip to the copier. Your next was on your trek to the coffee pot. Later, on a walk around the office to stretch your legs. Each time you saw him, he was in the same spot. He sat at the conference table surrounded by spreadsheets and graphics and stared perplexed at the piles of paper encompassing him. You knew you could go in and ask him if he needed help, but you wanted to watch him suffer. According to him, you would just do a terrible job anyway.

It was about 7 o’clock when you heard a firm knock on your office door. You expected it to be the cleaning crew asking to vacuum your office. With a ‘come in’ your door opened and your boss’ large body leaned up against the door frame, careful not to enter the office he knew he wasn’t welcome in. While you were shocked he was coming to talk to you, you stayed quiet. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have to break the silence. After a few awkward moments, he did.

“Um, I was thinking about ordering dinner if you wanted to join me.” This was by far the nicest thing he had ever said to you other than ‘you’re hired.’

“Well, what are you getting?”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner if you take a look at the investor relations portfolio I’m working on.” You were taken aback. He was asking for your help. He needs me, you thought as you smirked to yourself.

“Make it the Italian place down the street and we have a deal,” you countered. You didn’t want to spend anytime with him at all but you were taking this as a sign that  1) he wasn’t firing you, and 2) he thought you did good work. Also, their spaghetti bolognese was calling your name.

Soon you were both knee deep in documents and investor information packets. You absolutely could not believe it but the two of you were collaborating well and making real progress on the portfolio. This was the working relationship you always wanted to have with your big shot boss; the opposite of his constant criticism and belittling of your work.

When the food arrived, you both decided to take a break and eat like an entire company’s stock shares weren’t resting on your shoulders. While your conversation stayed surrounding work, it inevitably steered towards the account he had taken away from you.

“So, how’s my campaign doing?” you asked. You knew it was a risky question but you two had been getting along and you decided you needed an update on the account that had become your baby.

“I gave it to Marcus and-”

“Marcus? Really?” You interrupted  him. “Marcus is a shithead.” Your baby deserved better than Marcus.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said in a joking manner, with a small smile. The smile was just big enough for you to notice that he had dimples. He had never smiled in front of you before. “He’s doing a horrendous job and I was going to give it back to you on Monday.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the second chance,” you confessed. “Can you level with me for a minute?” you asked after a moment of silence. “Why did you rip into me like that? You could have just told me that it wasn’t right for me and taken it away.”

You watched him think for a moment. He scratched at his five o’clock shadow (that was more like a 9 o’clock shadow now) and you could tell he was searching for the right words.

“Because it got you fired up, but I could tell I hurt your feelings and I apologize.” You never expected an apology for the way he acted and you no longer regretted showing him your emotions. He had hurt you and he should feel bad for it. “I thought you were getting complacent in your ideas and you’ve been killing it since Monday.”

“Thank you for the apology. Here I am thinking you did it just to be a dick.”

“Is that what people in the office really think of me?” He looked genuinely hurt and you felt slightly guilty for being the bearer of bad news. But you hoped if he saw it from his fearful employees’ perspective he would lighten up a little.

“Do you want me to be honest?” He nodded his head. “You act like you have a stick so far up your ass it’s touching your brain and that you’re better than everyone else because your suit costs more than my rent.” If he never minced his words, why should you?

“Oh Y/N, tell me what you really think,” he said after a pause with a light chuckle. You were surprised by his reaction. You never expected him to take something like that so well.

“Listen,” you began again. “I understand and respect your toughness on us. But there is a line between criticism and just being mean.” You decided this was a time to call him on his shit, during this very very rare moment of comradery between you. You wanted to have a healthy relationship with him, maybe even a friendship.

“I understand that I can get a bit harsh. It’s just the whole ‘is it better to be loved or feared’ thing. I’ve always thought fear would be the safer option.” You felt like you were getting to pull back the layers of his hard shell and see the human being underneath for a brief period of time.

“But if you were truly loved, no one would ever betray you,” you whispered softly, always the romantic.

“Love has never been reliable, has it?” Your heart broke for him and you realized someone doesn’t become as hardened as he is overnight. Something did this to him.

“What about love being the most powerful force on earth?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, referring to the slogan for an engagement ring campaign you were both working on.

“Well, when your wife tries to steal the company that you built together and run away to Spain with her personal trainer, love gets a little bit more complicated.” There it is, you thought to yourself. This was the first time he ever felt like a real person to you; not like a teflon shell of anger, wealth, and ambition. His features looked softer and he seemed less like your evil boss, and more like someone dealing with a painful trauma.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” you said softly, genuinely meaning it. “Oh shit, sorry. Mr. Styles,” you corrected yourself. He laughed at your mistake and you watched his dimples reach their full potential. He looked down at the table, obviously a little uncomfortable with his rare moment of vulnerability with the woman who was probably the biggest pain in his ass in the office. Before you knew it, you had decided to share your own uncomfortable vulnerability.

“My ex put me in the hospital while I was still living in New York,” you began, watching his eyes immediately jump to yours and listen intently.

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to talk about this… I didn’t mean-,” he tried to stop you but you figured if he shared with you, you could share with him.

“No, it’s okay. It’s been a long time,” you reassured him, shaking your head softly. “We were fighting because I found out he had been cheating on me. I had packed a bag and was trying to leave when he pushed me down the stairs of our apartment building. I broke my arm in two places and I had to have a few surgeries.” You rolled up the sleeve of your blouse and showed him the scar that ran down your forearm. You scanned his face and it looked like he genuinely cared about you for a moment. You brushed it off. “After that, I decided I needed to leave New York.”

“Why London?” he said gently.

“I was obsessed with this English boy band when I was growing up,” you laughed. “I guess I romanticised London in my head and decided it might be a good place for a fresh start.”

“While I’m incredibly sorry you had to go through all of that to get to London, I’m very glad that you found your way to me,” he spoke tenderly. His face was serious, but not the seriousness you were used to while getting scolded about your work. It was gentle and like he meant every word he said. You were happy you found your way to this version of him too.

“To the firm, I mean,” he corrected himself and you felt a weird pang of sadness inside of you. You are just his employee, remember that, you thought to yourself.

“I’m happy I found the firm too. If only I could figure out how to deal with my hellish boss?” you asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes dramatically and laughing at him. You realized that this could definitely be taken as flirting, but you decided were okay with that.

“Maybe they’re just trying to push you because you are by far the best campaign director they have,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat and watching your every movement. You felt your cheeks heat and the rush of adrenaline from finally getting his validation. This was all you ever wanted from him.

“Oh, I know,” you smirked, leaning back in your own chair and studying him as well.

He really was gorgeous. His quaffed hair had fallen over the course of the day and a few stray pieces hung on his forehead. His black dress shirt fit him so well. You were fully able to appreciate the tailored fit after he had shrugged off his blazer and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons to reveal glimpses of two swallows that sat on his collarbones. A chain that you had never gotten to see hung around his neck, a cross and the Star of David resting on his chest.

“We should get back to work,” he murmured after a few extended moments of staring at each other.

“Probably.”

You two worked for another hour or so before you let out a small yawn and Harry insisted you both call it a night. Although you protested and told him you were fine, he was firm in his demand that you go home and rest. As you packed up your things in your office, he hovered in the room and watched your every move. Conversation was relaxed and casual, not stained with the malice you usually had towards each other.

He took your briefcase from your hands, offering to help as you struggled to carry a poster and a few proposal binders, and carried it as you walked in step with each other out of the office. When you reached the front doors and went to go your separate ways, you were met with a puzzled look on his face.

“Where are you going? The parking garage is this way?”

“Oh, I don’t have a car. I take the tube wherever I have to go.”

“Let me drive you home,” he offered. When you denied his proposal, you were met with a stern, “Let me drive you home or you’re fired.”

Although you fought him the entire walk to his car, asserting that you were fine to take the train, you climbed into his beautiful jet black sports car with a huff and a pout. He had a triumphant smirk on his face that you were tempted to slap off, but decided to take this as a sign from the universe that you just weren’t meant to get blisters from your heels walking home tonight. You watched as his long fingers gripped the steering wheel skillfully and you both sat peacefully, the silence between you only interrupted when you gave him occasional directions to turn right or left. The soft sounds of a Fleetwood Mac song you couldn’t remember the name to flowed through the speakers and his mouth silently lip-synced the words. You admired him the whole drive home and you didn’t want to get out of the car when he pulled up to your building.

You both departed the car, walking around to the trunk where he had stashed your briefcase. Your casual conversations had long passed, both of you beginning to mourn the night you had together. You had enjoyed this night far more than you anticipated and you hoped this would be the first of many late nights at the office that he would join you for. You looked up at him when he handed you your briefcase and you both stood there in silence for just a few more fleeting seconds, neither of you wanting to be alone yet. You were first to break the noiseless night.

“Thank you for dinner and the ride home, Mr. Styles.”

“Please call me Harry,” he said with a subtle smile, stepping up on to the curb, closing much of the space between you.

“I can do that, Harry.” His first name felt foreign on your lips but it was a welcome change.

“Thank you for all your help tonight. I needed your fresh set of eyes on that portfolio.” This interaction felt so intimate; his words hushed and complimentary, intensified by his body’s proximity to yours.

“Whenever you need me,” you breathed, refusing to break the eye contact you were both desperately holding on to.

With one swift step he pressed your bodies and your lips together, backing you up until your body pressed against his car. You dropped your briefcase to the ground and your hands flew up to the base of his neck. He tasted like the lemon cookie he had ordered for dessert and you smelled his intoxicating cologne as you drank each other in. His hands snaked their way under your blazer and rested on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was deep and demanding and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to end.

This morning you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him and mere hours later you were ready to bring him up into your own. He was infuriating and rude and knew just how to push your buttons. But, he also seemed to be gentle, kind, and thoughtful when he wanted to be. Harry Styles was an enigma. You couldn’t wrap your head around him and it drew you to him even more.

Your bodies flowed in perfect sync with one another and your open-mouthed and hungry kisses were so hypnotizing you couldn’t think. Harry was the only person that existed to you anymore, tuning out the murmurs of a passersby, and anywhere your skin touched his was lit on fire.

Finally coming up for air, you breathlessly peeled your lips away from the other. You both refused to break your eye contact, your hands gripping tight to his biceps to steady your weak legs, and scanned each other’s faces.

“You have a little something,” he murmured, reaching to wipe your smudged red lipstick from your bottom lip with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and smiled up at him.

“So do you,” you panted, staring at his lips that were now stained red.

You both just stood there for a little while, soaking up the other’s company before you pulled away and things got more complicated. He was your boss after all, was this even allowed? Did he want to be something more than coworkers? If things ended poorly, would you still be able to work together? Would he be nicer to you now?

“It’s late. You should get some sleep,” he eventually broke the silence and your spiraling thoughts.

“I agree. You worked me real hard today,” you smirked at him, unable to pass up the innuendo. An amused grin spread across his lips and he took a step back from you, releasing you from his grip against the car. He gathered your things you had dropped on the ground during his assault and handed them back to you.

Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly. It made your cheeks burn.

“I’ll see you Monday, sweetheart” was the last thing he said to you before he climbed back into his car and drove off into the night.

Part 2

[marvelfansince08love]

Hey Neighbour! - Part 4

Word count: 4.5k 

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: Some sexual tension, mention of past break-ups. Fluff!!

A/N: I’ve finally finished this part lmao! Enjoy my loves <3 Your feedback means the world to me and I’m so happy so many of you are enjoying this series x

Part 1, 2, 3

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @creepingwolfberry @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @minavenable @pearplate @r0an0ke @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @venablemayfairgoode @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @supremeinlilac @nyx-aira @witchxaf @black--widxw @fireflyglass @cordeliafoxxe @d14n4ol @bluevelvetbitxh

Gif credit to @thatsmypeach 💖

Part 4 

Days passed with only small glimpses of your endearing neighbour, with the upcoming re-election Ally had been busy most of the week campaigning in and around the city. Oz had come over with Ally’s permission after school to hang out with Amelia yesterday informing you of his mothers absence lately, you wanted to sigh in relief at his words growing anxious that your date planned with his mother might not go ahead. You were understanding of her job and debated rescheduling the date for when Ally wasn’t so stressed with work but the message left in the window late last night after you dropped Oz off with his babysitter settled your debate with yourself.

‘Sorry I’ve been so MIA this week. Can’t wait for Friday! X’

You had blushed ridiculously at her message, the warmth felt within your stomach growing as you thought about her thoughtful nature. Now it was the night before the supposed date and that warm feeling had changed to nervous butterflies as you eyed the two outfits chewing lightly on your bottom lip as you pondered on what to wear. 

“That’s a pretty dress, Mommy.” Amelia’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. Turning you grin at her fluffy pyjamas and princess crown that lays crooked on top of her hair as she holds tightly to her fairy wand, you gesture for her to enter the room where she hovers by the doorway. 

“What do you think, Munchkin?” you ask, pulling her in close to your side as her eyes glance between the outfits. She points her wand  confidently to the more formal attire nodding her head once to confirm her decision. 

“I’m trusting your judgment on this one, kid.” you murmur, bending slightly to kiss her tousled hair. “Come on you, let’s get you ready for bed.” you instruct, shaking your head at her put together attire for the evening narrowly avoiding a bop on the nose by her silver wand as she flaunts out of the room leaving trails of glitter from her magic wand.

Once Amelia is well tucked in and free from her fairy princess duties, you sit comfortably by her tucked in legs laughing as she pulls funny faces at you. 

“Alright your majesty, you’re going to close your eyes now and go to sleep.” she squints her eyes shut mockingly as you bop her nose making her giggle between yawns. Relaxing into her pillow she eyes you for a moment. 

“Do you like Ozzy’s Mommy?” her question makes you freeze in place as you try to find the right words. 

“I-uh yes I do, she’s lovely and has been very kind to us since we moved here,” 

“And she makes the best hot cocoa!” Amelia exclaims, before smacking her hands to her mouth shushing herself as you quiet giggle at her enthusiasm. 

‘Grandpa has some competition it seems’ you think amusingly before tucking her in further watching as her eyes fight to stay open. 

“She does make great hot chocolate,” you agree, before sitting in silence for a moment basking in your daughter's presence. 

“Do you like Miss. Ally like you liked my Mama?” you gape at her innocent tone, struggling to find the right way to answer her as truthfully as possible. 

 “Well, me and Ally are just friends and we enjoy hanging out with each other. I don’t love her like I did your Mama but how do you feel if I were to see Ally more often?” you tentatively ask, concerned that she might not like you seeing her new friends mom, especially if there were more potential dates in the future. 

Her lips twist in concentration as she ponders over your question before nodding grabbing hold of Mr. Bunny next to her cuddling him close. 

“I like Miss. Ally, Mommy. Are you going to take her out on a date? Uncle Rupie didn’t see me but he told Grandpa about a girl he took out on a date and she kissed him Mommy, yuck!” she confesses, her face scrunching in disgust as you match her horror. 

“Well Mommy needs to have a word with him about watching out for prying little ears huh?” you say out loud to yourself. Amelia nods in agreement not fully understanding the dynamic of adult conversations, especially where her uncle is involved. Kissing her nose you whisper good night and wish her the sweetest of dreams before making your way to your own room across the hall. 

Lying in your bed you watch the moon shine bright in the night sky, a soft smile appearing upon your lips. 

‘I’m going on a date with Ally Mayfair-Richards’ 

***

“Would you like more tea, Sir. Rupert?” Amelia politely asks her uncle who sits across from her, wearing his customised paper crown made by the princess herself. Matt holds out his tea cup accepting the tea offered by his only niece.

“Why thank you, Princess Amelia.” He thanks before taking a sip from his empty plastic cup. You lean against the doorframe wearing your outfit for the evening, grinning at the site before you. Amelia senses another presence in the room as her eyes clash with your own, her gasp alerting her uncle of your presence. 

“You look beautiful Mommy!” she gushes, moving to wrap her arms around your legs. Placing your hand against her back you thank her for the lovely compliment before raising an eyebrow at your brother. 

“Sir. Rupert huh?” you grin as he glares over towards you. 

“You tell anyone about this, I'll give your daughter up to the dragon,” he threatens playfully as you and Amelia gasp in horror. 

“I better come back here with my house still intact, you got it.” you warn, mainly to your brother as you raise a challenging eyebrow in his direction. Amelia looks up at you from her cuddling position. 

“I’ll look after him Mommy,” you crouch to cup her cheek, kissing her nose. 

“Thank you baby, I’ll come say good night later okay?” you inform as she nods acknowledging your words. Your brother scoffs from his seat at Amelia’s pink table. 

“Or good morning depending on how she reacts to that outfit,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you shake your head disapprovingly. Amelia frowns at her uncle's confusing words wondering why you wouldn’t come home and say good night to her.

“You're silly Uncle Rupie,” 

“Yeah ‘Uncle Rupie,” you mock, sticking your tongue out at your annoying brother come babysitter. Hugging Amelia once more you bid your goodbyes and make your way downstairs just as the doorbell rings through the house. Hurrying over towards the door, you stop for a moment to steady yourself  before slowly opening the door. You breath hitches as you take in the powerful brunette dressing in black pants with a turtleneck tucked in them, her signature long coat in place as she shivers against the slight breeze, her brown eyes take in your attire with a slight glint. 

“You look beautiful,” she whispers, a subtle smirk appearing onto her pink lips. You fluster for a moment not used to such compliments as you appreciate her outfit once more. 

“So do you,” you murmur, feeling suddenly shy under her intense gaze. She holds out her hand for you to take which you accept willingly, her thumb brushing reassuringly across your skin soothing your nervousness almost instantly. 

“I haven’t done this in a while myself, I guess we’re both a little nervous.” she admits, a soft smile appearing onto her lips. You meet her gaze for a moment appreciating her honesty and understanding of the situation, your moment is ruined as the small quiet sounds of giggling from inside the house interrupts your private bubble. Ally reluctantly lets go of your hand and grins as her eyes surpass your form and towards the staircase where small and big feet stand as the mischievous pair try to subtly watch on. 

“Hi Amelia,” Ally calls out, amusement evident within her brown eyes as she glances briefly at you. You grin fondly as you hear the small voice of your daughter as she sheepishly waves from between the wooden posts at the top of the staircase banister. 

“Goodbye you two,” you call out, making your way out of the home shutting the door behind you in the process. 

“I’m sorry about that, my brother is worse than any child,” you laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed as you shuffle in place. Ally chuckles as she waves it off, tucking her hand into her coat pocket indicating for you to wrap your hand around her crooked elbow which you accept happily. 

“So Senator, where are we going? I don’t know if you know this but I’m new to town,” you tease, still curious at her lack of information about your date for this evening. She laughs at your joke enjoying that natural flow between you both when it’s just the two of you. Guiding you over to her car you raise your eyebrow at her silence. 

“Don’t worry I’m not kidnapping you,” she reassures, as she makes her way round to the driver’s side. Once sat in the car and buckled up Ally looked over to you, her fingers touching your forearm briefly. 

“Do you trust me?” Her words are so simple but with such meaning behind them the only response you can commit to is a nod. That seems to give her all the confirmation she needs as she sets off down your street heading for the town centre. 

Pulling up next to the curb you frown as you take in the dark building next to you.

“Is the restaurant closed?” you ask, your only reply is a wicked grin and a wink before she gets out of the car and towards your door offering her hand as she helps you out of her car. 

“The restaurant is never closed if you're the owner of it,” she murmurs, close to your ear as she places a hand against your lower back. You gulp at her closeness feeling her warm breath against your skin, your eyes widen as you register the new piece of information. 

“You own this place? How did this not come up in conversation before?” you question, still shocked at the new piece of information feeling slightly impressed at her juggling skills of being a mom, senator and a restaurant owner. She shrugs looking slightly sheepish as she escorts you over to the front door, digging for her keys before opening the door. 

“I hope it isn’t too full of myself, bringing you here. I just thought if you were going to have the best meal of your life it may as well be cooked by yours truly,” she confesses, her end statement making you laugh at her confidence. 

“So sure of yourself, Richards. I have high expectations for this meal,” you inform, going along with her teasing and carefree nature. Ally switches on the light revealing beautifully lit fairy lights that cover the ceiling of the restaurant, candles unlit on the only dressed table for the evening.  She bites her lip as she contemplates her next words.

“Well, I’ve made us a delicious meal but I thought I’d add a twist to our evening.” she reveals, you frown at her dramatic build up wondering what else she has in store. “Since I cooked us the starter and the main, I thought we could have a little competition on the dessert part because those cookies you made were actually pretty good,” Ally laughs, at your gaped expression. 

“Hey! You say that like you are surprised!” you exclaim, joining in on her laughter watching as her eyes light up when she smiles wide, grinning softly at the observation. 

“You admitted it yourself sweetheart, remember? Thankful that the kitchen was still in one piece was it?” she mocks, as she escorts you over to the table waiting for you to sit comfortably on the chair before moving to grab hold of a lighter from the counter, lighting the two candles that sit in between you both. She gestures for you to wait a moment as she makes her way into the back and appears a few moments later holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“I hope you like Red, it’s one of my favourites,” she offers you some, which you happily accept watching her fill the glass with ease before proceeding to fill her own taking a seat across from you. Grabbing hold of the glass you hold it up towards her as she does the same clinking her glass against yours before taking a sip, her eyes never leaving your own. 

The evening filled with great food and easy conversation as you both start to open up about your past hardships, realising how similar your heartaches were. Ally revealed that before her wife passed things were starting to get worse between them, talks of divorce circled around before that terrible incident. Apparently Ivy had been a part of the famous Cult that was led by Kai Anderson before being an unfortunate victim to his murderous plans, you had heard about the young man on the news a few years ago but at the time you were mostly back in your hometown raising Amelia not having much time for the news. 

“So Amelia mentioned she had another Mother once? What happened there if you don’t mind me asking?” Ally asks, following your mentions of struggling in the first few years of Amelia’s life. You take a sip of your wine before opening up to her about that particular sensitive topic but her eyes are so full of kindness and understanding the words just start to spill like a river flow. 

“She was the first girl that I had ever kissed, we were in school together all the way up to college. I think I had always been in love with her so when we graduated and she asked me to marry her of course I said yes in an instant,” you scoff quietly, pausing for a moment. Your eyes casting down to the white cloth that covers the table. “It was her who came to me about the idea of having children and how she couldn’t wait to start a family, I was so happy that she wanted to share that with me and a year later I ended up pregnant with Amelia. She was happy at first and hovered around me like a mother hen… then once Amelia was here it was like she felt she couldn’t connect to her and started to snap at me for it. Told me I was being selfish and that I wasn’t giving her enough attention.” you feel the tears build in your eyes as you subtly wipe the stray tear. “Then I woke up one morning to find all of her things gone and just a note, a fucking note can you believe. We built this life together for her to just up and leave without having the guts to say it to my face,” you grumble, before shaking your head smiling painfully over at Ally who sits quietly allowing you to continue within your own time.

“I’m sorry for rambling like that, I haven’t opened up about all of this to well anyone really,” you murmur, wiping your face once more, chuckling to yourself sheepishly. Ally leans forward and reaches for your hand across the table laying the palm of her hand on top of your own tracing a soothing pattern against your skin. 

“Don’t apologise, thank you for opening up to me. You and Amelia both deserve better than that,” she reassures, smiling softly at your tear-stained face. Pulling back she grabs hold of her wine and toasts, clinking against your own glass. 

“To shitty ex-wives and new beginnings,” she declares, grinning as you laugh repeating her words back to her. 

***

The conversation became lighter after that, telling silly stories about the children and your brother's secret love for tea parties and crowns. Ally laughs out loud at that, only picturing princess Amelia bossing around her whipped buff uncle at tea parties before sobering up clearing her throat. 

“Okay, as much as I would love to know more about these famous tea parties. We have a competition to start,” she instructs, standing from her chair and offering you her hand. 

You lace your fingers through hers squeezing the hand excitedly as she guides you into the kitchen. You look around in astonishment at the well sized kitchen taking in the new edition appliances, as she moves you over to the prepping station. You wait patiently as Ally grabs the ingredients and places them in front of you, passing you an apron on her way past. 

“I got to admit, I’ve never been on a date where I have to wear an apron before,” 

“It’s more fun wearing one the morning after,” she teases back, winking suggestively making you blush hard at her words, the thoughts of a naked Ally cooking breakfast in nothing but an apron for you in the mornings stirred something within you that you hadn’t experienced in a long time; arousal. You hide your dirty thoughts by clearing your throat and putting the apron on, deciding you aren’t going to let her affect you like this without a little bit of pay back. 

“Is that a promise, Senator?” you husk, eyeing her hungrily as you tie the strings of the apron tight against your body tugging hard for extra effect. Ally gulps visibly at you as she shakily places the flour onto the counter, her eyes glaring playfully over to you as you smile innocently. 

“Tease,” she spats, with no real bite behind her words as her brown eyes sparkle with glee. She moves towards you, pressing her front to your back as she leans close to your ear as her arms snake around you grabbing hold of the mixing bowl. 

“We’re going to make cookies but you can add your own special ingredients to spice it up a little bit,” she informs, her lips close to your ear you can feel them faintly brush the skin. You suppress a shiver knowing her game. 

“You got it, chef.” you whisper back, tilting your head to the side so your lips are an inch away from her own. You can hear her breath hitch at your sudden closeness, her eyes trail from your lips to eyes a dark look passes across her brown gaze before she steps away and prepares her own bowl grinning devilishly. 

You both continue to work on your desserts moving around the kitchen as you steal heated glances from one another. Your front pressing close to her back as you move to grab more ingredients, feeling her tense as your fingertips brush across her arm as you reach across her. Once the cookies are ready for the oven, you help Ally in cleaning the station up which takes you a lot longer as you both flick more flour onto each other than into the trash bag. You laugh at Ally’s horrifying face as you leave a white smudge across her cheek and chin. 

Her eyes darken as does her grin, making you pause your laughing fit. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. No need to retaliate, you’re a much better person than me Ally.” you bargain, as you watch her stalk slowly over to you her hands still covered in flour. You take a step back cautiously as you frantically look around the room, searching for the exit. Before you can finish up the route in your head Ally leaps forward missing you by an inch as she tries to enclose her arms around you making you yelp and giggle. 

“Ally! Please!,” 

“I like when you beg,” she flirts, grinning wickedly as she continues her attack. You stutter over your words for a moment thrown by her comment as you feel a slow burn aching in your stomach at her words, the brief moment of weakness on your part gives her an opening as she leaps forward and wraps her arms around you, making you laugh as she smears the flour onto your right cheek and nose. 

“Gotcha,” she whispers, close to your lips. Your face grows serious as your eyes find hers, basking in the comfort of being in her arms. You gaze at her lips as you lick your own watching as her gaze does the same as you move close to her, the beeping sound of the oven timer startles you apart as Ally quickly moves over to the oven to check on the cookies. You fluster at the stolen moment making your way over, Ally turns and smiles sheepishly. 

“If you like why don’t you hop on up the table. Let me refill your glass,” she murmurs, squeezing your hand on her way past as you nod shyly. 

Sitting on top of the prep table, you watch Ally move back towards you with a filled up glass of red noticing her carrying a bottle of water in the other. 

“I drove us here, darling.” she lightly reminds you, grinning softly as she comes to stand in between your legs placing your glass of wine by your hip.

“Of course! One of us has to be responsible,” you tease, wanting the easy natural atmosphere back before your almost kiss. Ally grins knowingly and continues to make polite conversation with you as she continues to stand in between your legs as if it’s the most natural place to be. You show Ally pictures of Amelia during last Halloween in her pumpkin outfit as she shows you pictures of her and Oz sledging during Christmas time, the intimacy shared between you both makes your heart flutter as you allow yourself a moment to have hope that this might actually turn into something more serious. Although the idea scares you, you’ve never been more excited at the prospect. 

The final ping of the oven springs to life indicating to remove the freshly baked goods from the oven, you hum as you take in the heavenly smell of freshly cooked dough. Ally moves over to take the cookies out allowing them time to cool down before placing two cookies from each tray onto a plate, she places the plate next to your hip and offers you a bite of her own cookie as she explains her secret ingredients. You moan as the flavour melts into your mouth closing your eyes as you bask in its yummy goodness. 

“That’s amazing!” you mumble through bites. As she smiles smugly at you, complimenting you makes you roll your eyes fondly. 

“Okay, now that we’ve gotten your mediocre cookie out of the way are you ready for mine?” you ask, grinning. Ally wiggles her eyebrows at the hidden euphemism making you shake your head jokingly at her immaturity mouthing a ‘behave’. She makes great effort to eye the cookie cautiously as you bring it up towards her mouth, you watch as she takes a tentative bite as she slowly chews on the cookie, her eyes sparkling with glee as she grins while continuing to chew on the yummy goodness, making you grin smugly. 

“See! I told you, give me baking over cooking any day.” you say, feeling proud of your creation. She nods approvingly of your baked good. 

“You know, I would love to have these in the restaurant if you ever felt up to making them again?” she asks, a genuine smile gracing her lips. You smile sheepishly at her offer shaking your head at the compliment. 

“Oh I don’t think they’re that good,” you mumble, suddenly feeling shy as you look down towards the floor. Soft fingers pinch lightly at your chin forcing your gaze upwards and towards the softest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“Well I think they’re amazing, just like the person who made them.” she mutters close, her face moving closer to your own as she maintains eye contact. You chew on your bottom lip as her gaze watches the action grinning, her lips an inch away from your own. 

“I would really like to kiss you,” she states, her voice no more than a whisper in the small space between you. You finally find the confidence to speak as your eyes take in her close proximity. 

“Kiss me,” 

Her lips are on you in a second leaving no room for protest or second thoughts. Soft lips press delicately against your own at first as if to become familiar with them, it’s softness, it’s taste. Her hands rest gentle against your cheeks keeping you in place as your lips begin to explore her own, your tongue tracing gently against her bottom lip instantly granting you access as you brush against her tongue. Your stomach tightens as you hear her sweet moan, enjoying the effect you have on her, your arms wrapped around her waist keeping her close as you continue to explore each other's mouths. The screeching sound of Ally’s phone startles you apart as you both fight to catch your breaths, her head leaning against your own as her eyes remain close. 

“I should get that, it might be Oz.” she whispers, too afraid to speak louder and ruin your moment further. You gulp trying to catch up with your senses, nodding as you urge her to answer her phone. 

You watch from the countertop as she paces back and forth, frantically trying to calm the poor boy on the other end of the phone. Her eyes find you as she throws an apologetic look which you smile reassuringly to understand the difficulties of motherhood yourself. Ally ends the phone call with a sigh as she moves to stand close to you again, unable to fully be apart from you after having you so close to her. 

“Is he okay? Let me go grab our coats and we can head over?” you offer, giving her hand a squeeze before leaping off the countertop ready to head for the front entrance. Ally’s hand stops you for a moment as you look back in confusion. 

“I’m sorry our date had to end so abruptly, especially after-” she pauses, blushing slightly as she struggles to meet your gaze. Stepping close to her you press a sweet kiss to her warm cheek and whisper into her ear. 

“I’m happy to finish this off another time, if you are?” you husk close to her cheek, pulling back slightly as you watch her eyes flutter for a moment grinning at the effect you’ve just caused before moving to grab the coats from the front of the restaurant, Ally’s stuttering voice following you from behind. 

“I- yes I would like that very much,” 

Once Ally had locked up the restaurant, your prized cookies wrapped up on a plate to take home. You settle into the passenger seat and look over at a distraught Ally. 

“He hasn’t had a nightmare in over three months. I thought we were over the worst of it,” Ally reveals, her eyes glossing over as she looks out into the road. You reach across and place your hand on top of hers that rest tightly around the steering wheel, soothing her worries. 

“Let’s go and see your son, I’m sure seeing his new best friend will help.” you offer, knowing how much Oz enjoys hanging out with Amelia. You are more than willing for the two to hang out especially as there is no school tomorrow and Oz could do with his best friend. Ally nods before starting the engine and speedily heading home. Your eyes stray from the outside view to take in Ally’s side profile, taking in her shape of her nose and her full lips the glow of the streetlights making her brown eyes shine, her skin smooth and soft begging to be touched. 

Yes, definitely worth the wait.

[callumilott-archive]

(x) Good things come to those who wait? Callum Ilott is certainly hoping that proves to be the case after his step back from front-line single-seater racing in 2021.

Last year, the Ferrari Driver Academy protege was one of the stars of the FIA Formula 2 series, and eventually finished runner-up to Maranello stablemate Mick Schumacher. He had harboured serious hopes of being promoted to a slot at Haas or Alfa Romeo, Ferrari's partner teams. But even as the end of F2 campaign drew to a close, he knew he would be standing by as Schumacher's graduation to F1 was confirmed, along with those of third-placed Yuki Tsunoda and fifth-placed Nikita Mazepin.

With no slot available, and after opting not to have a third crack at F2, Ilott has moved into the role as second reserve at Alfa Romeo. He also has a programme in the GT World Challenge Europe Endurance Cup with the Iron Lynx Ferrari squad to help keep him race fit.

The Alfa deal at least puts him a step closer to a race seat. He's already enjoyed one FP1 outing, in Portugal, and there are four or five more to come as the year progresses. At some races where Robert Kubica isn't available he will be the primary reserve, and he could be needed if Ferrari has a problem and Antonio Giovinazzi is called upon to switch to the works team, leaving an Alfa seat vacant. So the 22-year-old is keeping himself busy, and getting over the disappointment of not going straight into a race seat in 2021.

"Obviously, I wasn't best pleased when I first got the news, because it is quite hard to see your competitors make the step up," he admits. "But I'm one of these people that once you're in a situation that you can't necessarily change, and once you're put in a position where you have to deal with it, you've got to make the most of it. Which is what I'm trying to do.

"To be honest, if anything it's probably a good thing in the sense that I'll just work harder to make it happen. So for me, it's not an option to have if, buts or maybes. It's like we'll make it happen or no, basically!"

Ilott insists that until the Haas and Alfa seats were officially filled, he still believed he had a chance of finding a berth, despite the obvious momentum behind Schumacher and indications that there would be no change at Alfa.

"Of course I was trying to always look for positives," he reflects. "But it's not up to me. I've got to work for it; I've got to make sure that someone is completely happy in taking me. I've got to make sure I'm the full package because once you're here, you've got to be at the top of your game all the time.

"I've got to be confident in that process, because that's all I can be. But I like to make things happen to myself – I'm a very stubborn kid if someone says no! I'll push as much as possible."

He is now totally immersed in the Hinwil camp, soaking up what information he can, while also staying close to Ferrari.

"I've got to show that I'm someone that you'd be happy to trust and put in the car and know that they would do a good job" Callum Ilott

"I'm additional reserve driver for Alfa Romeo, and test driver for Ferrari," Ilott explains. "So simply explained, it's split between me and Robert [Kubica] for the season. Obviously, he has a few more LMP commitments than I have in GT, because I've only got five race weekends. So when he's not around and he's got commitments on that side, I'll be here.

"The next one for me is Baku [next month]. In between races I'll be in Maranello, and head over to Hinwil sometimes for some sim and preparation. It's very variable, because some race weekends I'll be at the track, some race weekends in Maranello. I'm there if someone needs me, depending on whatever the conditions are.

"Obviously I'm part of FDA, so we've got our weekly schedules on that side. I help Ferrari on the test side, if there's anything that needs to be done there. So I'm there for whoever needs me, and trying to get as much experience and learning as possible. If I'm not on the tracks, I'll be watching as closely as possible back in the factory."

A third driver role is not always easy – all that hanging around at tracks when you're not racing – but Ilott is making the most of the Alfa opportunity.

"I end up with probably too many questions for everyone to be able to answer, because they're all busy!" he laughs. "I'm in a year where I'm in this position, so I've got to make the most of it. OK, it's not personal experience, but you can watch and learn from others.

"I speak to Mick, I've spoken to Charles [Leclerc]. I do get an understanding from them what the limitations might be in a rookie season, that kind of thing. So it's more about being as ready as possible for when an opportunity arises.

"A Friday [FP1] is a good way to hopefully have a regular experience and learn as much as possible in a short amount of time. I've got to show that I'm someone that you'd be happy to trust and put in the car and know that they would do a good job."

The first FP1 outing in Portugal was a big moment for Ilott, especially after the disappointment of bad weather washing out his planned outing with Haas at the Nurburgring last year.

"It's not just turning up on the weekend – you've got to do the pre-preparation, seat fit, all the data and everything like that, it was like a solid couple of weeks of prep," he says.

"To not then drive was a bit of a disappointment, so to finally get out in Portugal was a good experience. It's different compared to a free practice day, or the Abu Dhabi rookie test. It's limited running, you've got an hour, and all the cars are on track at the same time.

"It's just a bit more compact, and you've got to make sure everything's perfect and get up to speed as quick as possible. It was definitely a very positive session, things I needed to improve and learn on, and there was progress throughout. And hopefully for the next one, there should be a bit more of a step."

Crucially, he impressed his team boss.

"You have to show the pace, but most important, you don't have to crash," says Alfa's Fred Vasseur. "You have to show that you are the best one, but please don't put the wheel on the kerb!

"And this exercise is very difficult. Portimao is probably the most tricky track, but I think he did a very, very strong performance. The most important thing for us also is to keep him in the car on a monthly basis, let's say, because part of his job is the simulator, and he needs to get connected to the car. He's very well integrated into the team, and is doing a good job. And I'm pleased to have him on board."

Ilott has no regrets about not continuing in F2 for a third season, as tempting as it was to be out there racing. In effect he had more to lose than to gain.

"I love to race F2, it was a great format, it's just there was only one place better I could go. And I think, with the three races [the new F2 weekend format], a lot has changed" Callum Ilott

"I had discussions, within Ferrari, within the F2 teams," he confirms. "But the call was on the late side of what the situation was for F1. And so by that time, you had a lot of the F2 teams already decided, and it's not so easy to then change teams again and be in another unfamiliar environment.

"I finished second in the championship, five poles, three wins. I was as close as you were going to get to winning it. Not that you don't want to take that risk: I love to race F2, it was a great format, it's just there was only one place better I could go. And I think, with the three races [the new F2 weekend format], a lot has changed.

"Also, as much as regular driving is important, which it is, if you need to need jump in I think there's another level of information that you need to learn from F1 which I wasn't going to maximise if I was doing a full race season in F2."

Ilott admits that he was a bit wary about committing to a race programme in GTs, but he enjoyed his first outing at Monza, which ended with him taking fourth place.

"To be honest, I was a little bit hesitant at first, because it's not what I'm used to, it's not what I'm comfortable with," he says. "But now that I've done one race weekend, and quite a few tests, I really enjoy it.

"It's a good immersive series, first of all, very competitive, and it's another element of driving that I haven't really experienced. The endurance side, longer stints. There's always something to learn and always something to transfer.

"It's not the same car, it's not anywhere near to a single-seater in corner speeds, but the focus of driving, the repetition on that side, feedback, all of that, there's another thing that you have to adapt to. I'm just doing the endurance races – Monza, Paul Ricard, Spa, Barcelona, all proper tracks. The Spa 24 Hours will be an experience, for sure."

"I still think I'm in a very, very good position. Yes, I have to wait a year. I've seen people wait two" Callum Ilott

The GT programme is not going to help Ilott into an F1 seat, but what might assist him as the year progresses is strong form from his former rivals, Tsunoda and Schumacher.

"Yuki made a great impression in Bahrain, it was really good to watch, actually," enthuses Ilott. "So from that side, it was a good benchmark to say, 'Look, here's what one guy can do'. With Mick, we all know that he takes a bit of time to get there. But once he's there, he will be good. And you can already see the pace is getting better.

"I think they're doing a good job, and I think it's only a matter of time before the reference is even closer. And it's easier for me to say, 'Well, I was in the middle of these two guys!'

"I still think I'm in a very, very good position. Yes, I have to wait a year. I've seen people wait two. I think the focus is still on doing the best job as possible on the GT side, and the FP1 side, and then hopefully an opportunity may present itself."

[astralaffairs]

I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING I NEED YOU TO KNOW ABOUT. LONGTIME POLITICAL RIVALS THOM AND MC RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT AGAINST EACH OTHER

omg

--------

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Y/N's grip on her glass was slowly tightening; her narrowed eyes were locked on him from across the room. "What is he doing here?"

Priya, her campaign manager, sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Want me to have him thrown out?"

"No," she huffed. "He'd make a scene of it, and that's the last thing I want."

A moment passed in (relative) silence, save for the sounds of chatter scattered throughout the room at Y/N's campaign fundraiser. She tapped the toe of one of her black pumps impatiently against the polished floor, and it took all of her will to stop herself from snapping the stem of her wine glass; instead, she threw the rest of her drink back in one heavy sip. "How do you figure I should handle this?"

She turned to Priya with a weary eyebrow raised. Priya frowned. "I think you're best off proceeding as usual. Keep talking to prospective donors, and don't let him derail your night."

"You're probably right." Y/N's sour expression didn't fit her acquiescence. "But this is so obnoxious. Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Watch yourself; there are reporters all around." Priya nudged her, nodding toward the lively crowd, but she wore an amused smile at Y/N's words.

"I'll behave if he does," she said, scowling.

"Good luck, then," —Priya's gaze flickered between Jefferson and Y/N— "because he'd headed this way."

Y/N had to resist the urge to groan loudly as Priya slipped away, offering her an apologetic shrug as she did so, but Y/N couldn't really blame her. Realistically, as Jefferson approached her, giving an annoyingly nonchalant smile when he caught her eye, nodding to her in greeting, Y/N knew Priya would have to let her handle it — still, she would've rathered Priya stick around to restrain her from throttling him.

Her eyes flickered down to her glass; for a brief moment, she regretted having already drank all of it.

"Attorney General L/N."

When Y/N looked back up, Jefferson stood only feet in front of her, a hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding a shallow glass of whiskey. She was too tired to even glare.

"Secretary Jefferson." Her voice was thick with resentment. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He shrugged, glancing about the room as he came up beside her. She sighed internally. "Well, it's an open event, isn't it? 'M here for the same reason as everyone else."

"To donate to my campaign, you mean?" Y/N folded her arms, and he grinned.

"I was referrin' to the open bar." He nodded toward the edge of the room, taking a sip of his whiskey as if to prove his point.

Y/N scoffed. "All that family money you're freeloading on, and you're still looking for free booze? You're such a fucking cheapskate."

"Language, Ms. Attorney General," he said, scandalized tone entirely contrived. She rolled her eyes. "Besides, it's much more satisfyin' to be drinkin' on your dime. I appreciate the generosity."

"Believe me, it wasn't meant for you." He frowned. "Is there really nowhere better for you to be on a Friday night than getting drunk at one of my campaign events?"

"Not really."

"That's almost sad." She looked at him with disdain, and despite how patronizing her tone was, he didn't look offended in the least.

"Aw, can't I just wanna hang out with you?" he asked, brow furrowed. "James was busy, so I figured this was the next best thing."

"Because we're best friends now?"

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I mean, don't flatter yourself. James 'n Dolley are still both far ahead of you on that list. And then there's Lafayette, too. And even Burr, really, but—"

"I get it," she cut him off, her cheeks flaring with heat as he wore a self-satisfied grin.

"But, hey, you're up there, too. Don't worry," he assured her, and she couldn't even bring herself to come up with some kind of biting retort.

"Right."

A moment passed in annoyed silence (well, Y/N was annoyed; realistically, Jefferson was enjoying himself), and Y/N glared down at the distinct lack of wine still sitting at the bottom of her glass. She didn't want to let him have the reaction he was looking for from her.

"You should leave," she said bluntly, and his eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to give you what you want and make myself look bad by having security throw you out. So you're going to get nothing out of being here," she hissed. "Please, just leave. You stick to your campaign, and I'll stick to mine."

"C'mon, now, where's the fun in that?"

"I'm just trying to fundraise; can't you leave that alone?" Her teeth were gritted as she spoke, and his smile was broadening; he was seemingly taking pleasure in how quickly she was getting worked up, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She just wanted him out. "Some of us can't just ride it out on daddy's money. We aren't all heirs to millions."

He quirked a brow. "Sounds like a personal problem."

"It is. That's my point," she scoffed. "I know we disagree on literally everything, but outright classism is stooping low, even for you."

"If you really need money, 'm sure there are a couple Super PACs on Capitol Hill that'd be glad to fork over a couple million." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes with his words, and he glanced back at her, taking another sip of his drink. Her glare didn't waver.

"If you're trying to create ammunition against me, it isn't going to work," she warned him. "You're wasting your time."

"Well, I'm hurt, now, Y/N." He frowned, free hand held to his heart. "Thought we were friends. Maybe I just came to see you."

Her huff was heavy, and he couldn't maintain his mild expression, his stupid, smug grin cracking through the facade. "We aren't on a first name basis, Jefferson."

He managed a pout. "After all these years? Aw, sweetheart, 'm devastated," he said, and when she looked away from him, her furious gaze instead turning to the hotel ballroom before her, the corners of his lips quirked. "We were even coworkers, once. Now, what happened to that?"

"As if we got along while we were working together." She didn't meet his eyes. "You've always been fixated on sabotaging my career, so I guess I'm not surprised that this is no different."

"Hang on, I never sabotaged your career," he said defensively, but when she cast him a disbelieving glance, his eyes flashed mischievously. "You did that perfectly well all on your own."

"I'm eight points ahead of you in the polls." She eyed him disdainfully. He shrugged.

"Don't get too cocky, now; the debates haven't even started," he replied, undeterred, "I've just gotta wait till the whole country gets to see you on live TV makin' a mockery of your party."

"Everyone knows people only watch the debates for confirmation bias," Y/N said dryly, again turning away from him. "You may as well drop out now. You've got no shot at the presidency."

He hummed skeptically. "I dunno about that, sweetheart—"

"Don't call me that," she seethed, but her annoyance only seemed to spur him on.

"So hostile," he sighed. "Now I guess I don't have to feel guilty that I'm stealin' all your donors, hm?"

"All my donors resent your policies almost as much as I do." Y/N couldn't maintain her anger, although she remained annoyed. Was this really his best shot at derailing her fundraiser? "Go back to pandering to Citizens United; you won't have too much luck with my pool of attendees."

"You sure? I've been told I can be real charmin'," he said matter-of-factly, and she huffed out a bitter laugh.

"By who, exactly?"

"Undisclosed sources," he said, shooting her a wink, and she pursed her lips; with the playful grin he wore, her smile was no longer all anger and resentment. "You'll have to take me at my word."

"I don't believe it, but I guess I can't really contest it," Y/N replied, and Thomas's grin broadened at the amusement he could hear seeping into her voice.

He raised a teasing eyebrow. "So you're tellin' me you agree, then?"

"That is not what I'm telling you." Her smile fell flat. Her tone was biting, but she turned away from him, folded her arms, and she could feel the heat rising in back of her neck. Her willing it away had little effect. He looked smug. "I'm saying that if you can't tell me who the sources are, then I can't fact check you, so there's no way to contest your claim. That's what I mean."

She was rambling, and he took another nonchalant sip of his drink, satisfaction obvious in his expression. "Mhm."

"I'm serious. It was a stupid fucking claim, anyway, and you know that wasn't what I said," she said, and the words were biting. Thomas looked down at her mildly, his smirk lazy.

"'Course."

"Stop being so damn condescending," she huffed. "I didn't agree with what you were saying. Now will you shut up about it?"

"What am I doin' wrong, sweetheart?" He folded his arms, turned fully toward her with an inquisitive look and a self-satisfied smile. "I didn't contradict you. You're allowed to think whatever you wanna."

"It's not me 'thinking whatever I want,' I didn't say that you were—" She cut herself off with a scowl as his smile widened, and he raised his eyebrows expectantly. Warmth was flooding her cheeks, by then, and she couldn't even bring herself to finish her sentence, didn't even want to admit aloud what she was defending herself for. She felt ridiculous. He looked unswayed. "God, I refuse to have this conversation. Why do you feel the need to antagonize me every fucking time you see me?"

"'Antagonize' seems extreme," he pointed out, and arrogance laced his voice. "I hardly said a word. All that spiralin' just now was all you."

"Because you were being a dick."

"Hey, all I did was ask an innocent question," he defended. "Why're you gettin' so worked up?"

"Don't act like I'm being irrational," she bit back, eyes narrowed, but he shrugged. "You only came here to get me worked up, and you know it. Stop treating me like a child."

"I'd never. I entirely respect you." She eyed him skeptically. He nudged her arm. "'S okay to get a little flustered now 'n then. I know I've got that kinda effect on people."

"I'm not flustered," she replied through gritted teeth, and he winked.

"Sure you aren't. No judgment here," he said, and the disbelief in his voice made her scowl.

"Whatever. I need to get back to fundraising. You're derailing my evening." The words were hard; her tone made it clear she had no interest in any further back-and-forth with him, and when he sighed, it was dramatically weary.

"You don't wanna spend any more time with me?" he asked, brow creased in faux disappointment. "Now, Y/N, I came all this way just for you, and I've gotta say, I'm hurt. Thought you were enjoyin' my company more than that."

"I wasn't."

He clucked his tongue. "Too bad. I was enjoyin' yours."

"You were enjoying making fun of me, you mean?" she countered, and he grinned.

"Believe what you want, but I said all of four words, before, sweetheart—"

"That isn't my name," she interjected, but he didn't stop.

"and you were still busy defendin' yourself for a whole lot longer," he continued. "And I'm not sure why you were defending yourself for so long, really. Didn't I tell you I wasn't passin' any judgment? I get that I make you nervous. It's okay."

"What? You don't make me nervous. I've literally worked with you for years," she huffed, eyes narrowed. When he raised a disbelieving brow, she shifted uneasily where she stood, breaking his gaze. "Whatever. I'm done with this conversation; you can show yourself out."

"Just walkin' away so unceremoniously?" he asked incredulously when Y/N turned on her heel. "Aw, c'mon, now, no hard feelings, alright?"

"Maybe not from you." She glanced back at him over her shoulder, eyeing him disdainfully before starting off in the other direction. He grinned.

"See you at the debates, Y/N," he called after her, and satisfaction lay heavy in his voice. "Always a pleasure."

She rolled her eyes, and her pace didn't stutter, but as she retreated back to the room full of overgenerous millionaires, the tips of her ears still burned. If she lost this election, she'd never hear the end of it.

[sorry-apsalar]

Frender Week Day Three: Jealousy

I picked this prompt because they're both the jealous type and I wanted an excuse to write Fry being the jealous one for once. Initially it was gonna be a direct tie in with my 'Friends With Benefits' drabble and the conversation Fry and Leela have would've ended with them breaking up because she'd never liked him like that anyway. And then at the end with Bender, Fry would be like 'well we're both single now, wanna go out?' But writing Leela and Fry in a romantic relationship, even for a little bit made me unhappy so I changed the circumstances to this instead.

~

Bender spoke fairly often about hating humans and wanting to kill them all. Fry had never taken it seriously because had proven many times that if nothing else there were at least humans he made exceptions for, Fry being his best friend was one of them. But one thing Fry had always assumed, or would’ve if he’d ever given the matter any thought, was that Bender would never be interested in dating a human.

That was exactlywhat he was doing though. And… he was happy, very much so supposedly. He seemed enthused by Amy and she with him. Fry had gone out of his way to show nothing but support for them, what kind of jerk would he be if he hadn’t? But… he hated it. He hated seeing them together so much that the temptation to try to break them up was hard to resist at times.

Seeing Bender dating other people had kind of bothered him for a while now. But it had mostly been other robots and none of those relationships had ever lasted long. And Bender had never been so enthusiastic about any of them the way he was with Amy. It was unlike Bender to even be like that, right? He just wasn’t the type. … Fry was just making excuses, huh? There was no logic behind why he hated seeing them together so much and thus he was just searching for a reason to justify his dislike for it when he should be nothing but happy for them.

It ate him up inside, especially since it meant Bender forsook their usual evenings spent watching TV together to go to Amy’s place instead. Even when they were at work Bender chose to spend most of his time with Amy. Eventually Fry just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he had to tell someone.

“So you’re jealous,” Leela said matter-of-factly as soon as Fry had finished spilling his guts to her. Maybe while working wasn’t the best time for such a conversation but Bender declining to go on the delivery mission with them to spend time with Amy instead had been the last straw. Fry should’ve been happy to take such an opportunity to try to impress Leela again but was far too preoccupied with Bender to do so – which was probably for the best since it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, nothing ever seemed to.

“No, why would I be… well, okay I guess maybe I might be a little jealous.” More like a lot. “But he’s supposed to be my best friend and he’s not spending much time with me anymore. And when we are hanging out, Amy’s always there too and I swear it’s like they’re going out of their way to rub it in my face. And I just… I just want to hang out with him again like we used to.”

“Have you tried talking to him about this?”

“No. How could I? He’s my best friend and Amy’s also my friend, and I want them to be happy, you know?” Just not while dating each other. Did thinking that make Fry a bad friend? Probably at least a little, right? But… he just wanted to hang out with Bender, just the two of them, like they’d done before all this started.

Leela didn’t even look at him. “I think you should try talking to him about it.”

“But…”

“No ‘but’s. When you get a chance to, talk to him about both this and about your feelings for him. Lord knows you’ve never had any issue telling me how you feel about me, why should he be any different? Especially since he has a far better chance of actually feeling the same way. And then if you two get together you can finally stop asking me out every other Friday.”

“I don’t ask you out every other Friday.” He’d gotten a lot better about that even if he hadn’t given up on winning her yet. “And what did you mean by…” He cut off as the full meaning of her words hit him. He took a breath to voice a protest, say he didn’t like Bender like that, they were just friends. But… he’d be lying if he tried to say he never thought about Bender like that. He’d never seriously considered it though because Bender was always ready to say he hated humans. An obvious lie given who he liked to hang out with but one that would make any logical person think that he wouldn’t want to date one. But that was apparently not a thing. So really it was Bender’s fault and Fry was officially annoyed with him over it. Also… “He’s dating Amy so I can’t talk to him about that stuff.”

“For now, yeah. I doubt it’ll last for much longer.”

“I don’t know about that. They seem pretty happy together.” Fry would know, they liked to talk about how happy they were together around him all the time. It’s almost like they wanted to make him jealous.

Leela shrugged. “I guess we’ll see once they finish up the last of the Proposition Infinity business. Now get ready go, we’re almost there. The Professor said this package is going to someone important and potentially dangerous so we should handle it with care.”

Fry groaned but at least work would provide a distraction from thoughts about what Bender and Amy might be doing together right now. They were probably on a date or kissing or maybe even having sex. Ugh! How exactly did robots even have sex? … He was going to have to google later.

***

“I’m bored and it’s not working so we should break up,” Bender said as soon as he and Amy were alone in her apartment.

“We should finish making sure Proposition Infinity passes first though,” she replied as she settled on her bed. “We’re kind of like the heads of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. As soon as it passes though we’re through.” Even if they had ended up entangled in campaigning for it on accident it was still a good cause and would result in Bender being famous so it was definitely worth it. Keeping up the pretense of being happy with Amy grew increasingly more annoying every day though.

“That’s fine with me. But uh, we don’t know if this whole thing failed entirely. Fry could be jealous and just hiding it because he wants to be a good friend. I mean you’re jealous of how into Leela he is and you don’t show it often because they’re your friends and you want them to be happy.”

She had a point but… “I doubt it. He’s only ever really had eyes for Leela.” The fact that Leela clearly wasn’t into him was fitting because that was exactly what Bender was going through too. The best he’d been able to get out of Fry with this scheme was annoying him enough to make him leave the room by being overly lovey-dovey with Amy. Which was fun, especially since it had annoyed everyone else too but it wasn’t enough and even that was starting to get boring.

“Hmmm… maybe. But do you think Kif will really take me back after you dump me?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Amy sighed. “Yeah, I know you don’t because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“I’m glad were on the same page.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just hurry up and get the rest of this Proposition Infinity business done so we can finally breakup and be done with this dumb act.”

*Some days later*

“You uh… dropped Amy really fast,” Fry finally said as they strode into the apartment. He’d been dying to bring it up for hours and couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that Leela had been right about Bender and Amy breaking up soon wasn’t surprising because she was right about most things, it’s part of why Fry liked her so much. But the timing of the breakup and just how sudden it had been was still strange.

“Yep,” Bender replied nonchalantly as he settled on the couch and switched on the TV. “I was getting bored of her.”

Fry joined him on the couch, happy their evenings watching TV had been restored. But he wasn’t ready to drop it yet so… “You didn’t seem like you were getting bored of her.” If anything, it had seemed the opposite right up until he’d dumped her.

“Well, I was.”

“And you dumped her because she wanted a monogamous relationship?” It just didn’t make sense because they’d seemed pretty monogamous the whole time they’d been dating, why would that suddenly be a problem?

Bender shrugged. “I guess. I was mostly just looking for a reason to dump her. Now shut up about it, it’s not important.” He was annoyed but seemingly mostly at Fry for asking so many questions and not all that bothered by the actual breakup.

Well as weird as the whole situation was, he was no longer dating Amy and that was a good thing as far as Fry was concerned. And if he wasn’t upset about it then maybe… it was time to take Leela’s advice? She’d never steered him wrong before and the past few days he’d had plenty of time to think about it. He hadn’t really decided anything so maybe he shouldn’t say anything? Or maybe he should? Before Bender ran off and started dating someone else who he might not get bored of, thus killing Fry’s chances permanently. What though and how? Words really weren’t Fry’s strong suit. Well, no sense beating around the bush, right?

“Now that you’re single again you want to maybe go out on a date with me sometime?”

Bender froze for a few seconds before turning to look at Fry. “Are you really asking me out?”

“Uh… yeah. It’s fine if you don’t…”

“What brought this on? You’ve never showed any interest in me like that before so why are you suddenly asking me out now?”

“Well uh…” Blushing, Fry looked away. “I got kind of jealous about you dating Amy and spending so much time with her. It made me realize some things. Or more like talking to Leela about it made me realize why exactly I was so jealous and stuff. It’s fine if you say ‘no’, I’m pretty used to getting turned down and stuff so you don’t have to worry about hurting my uh…” He trailed off at Bender’s borderline evil chuckle. He seemed very satisfied by something, what though?

“Nah, I’m not saying ‘no’. We’re going on a date uh… how about tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yeah, tomorrow afternoon works for me.”

“It’s a date then.”

“All right uh… cool.” Fry wasn’t one to question luck or good fortune even if it was strange. “That’s the easiest I’ve ever had convincing someone to go on a date with me.”

Bender put and arm around Fry, pulling him closer to his side. “Don’t question it.”

[aus-wnt]

High Asian Cup hopes for Matildas' Raso

Flying high on the back of recent displays in club football, in-form Matildas winger Hayley Raso is eager to take on a senior role in Australia's quest for a second Asian Women's Cup title.

Raso has been one of the form players in the FA Women's Super League for Manchester City in recent weeks.

The 27-year-old came off the bench to score two goals and set up another in a thumping win over Aston Villa before further assists and goals in the corresponding wins over Birmingham and Brighton helped City revive their flagging campaign.

Raso is now focusing on using that form to help her play an influential role in her third Asian Cup, having been part of the Matildas' squads that finished runners-up to Japan in the past two tournaments.

"It's been a long time since the Matildas have won the Asian Cup, so it is our goal as a team to make sure we bring the trophy home again," Raso told AAP.

"Being my third Asian Cup, I definitely feel more like a senior player now.

"I am always aiming to help the young and upcoming talents as much as I can and I hope my experiences at tournaments like these can help guide them to continue growing in this team."

Raso's own form at City has her excited about what she can achieve personally in India, with Australia starting their campaign against Indonesia in Mumbai on Friday.

"I feel like I've found my feet and am playing with a lot of confidence for my club at the moment, so I'm looking to continue working and developing on that form and to make sure I'm doing whatever I can to help the team win," the Brisbane-born attacker said.

Coach Tony Gustavsson finalised his 23-player squad for the tournament on Monday with forwards Cortnee Vine and Holly McNamara selected in favour of Karly Roestbakken and Winonah Heatley.

The addition of the uncapped duo adds to a squad already boasting the attacking talents of Raso, Caitlin Foord, Emily Gielnik, Remy Siemsen, Mary Fowler and, of course, captain Sam Kerr.

It's a potent array of talent that Raso is tipping to fire Australia to continental glory after narrowly missing out on a medal at last year's Olympics.

"We have so much potential and are such a tight group. That combined with our winning mentality, I think will help us click this tournament," she said.

"We had so much belief in ourselves at the Olympics, and that really showed in the way we played.

"It's always disappointing to lose, especially in a bronze medal match, but it has only made us more hungry to succeed."

By Ed Jackson