#all the weebs be saying “nuh uh” when like. yeah huh

[that-on3-g1rl]

I want them to make a guilty gear strive show (or guilty gear show in general) just so bridget can look directly in the camera in perfect Japanese (or english), with the writers saying the show is canon, and say "I'm a girl."

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 07 | thomas jefferson TEASER

title: freedom of the press 07

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: tbd, heavy editing

warnings: implied sex, like on more than one occasion, like implied sex is basically part of the plot now, a decent bit of angst toward the end, deadass y’all might hate me for the ending, but the plot’s gotta advance once in a while it can’t all be fun and games

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow  @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @checkurwindow @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty — hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

"Thomas," Y/N murmured, fatigue heavy in her voice as she lightly shook his sleeping body. "Thomas, c'mon, wake up."

He didn't move, and she sighed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, shift his heavy arms from where they lay slung around her waist — the task was surprisingly difficult. His face still rested against her neck, and she began to tug harder at his forearms.

"Hey, come on, rise and shine," she huffed, and the frustration in her voice at her predicament was growing audible. It was, unfortunately, not until she could feel his smile widening against her skin that she realized that his limbs weren't just unnaturally hefty and he wasn't the world's heaviest sleeper. He'd been awake the whole time, likely before she even had.

It'd been two weeks since Thomas had held his campaign event in Mira and Orlando's diner, and it'd been three days since her interview with John Adams. By now, they were 28 primaries deep, and it was almost irrefutable that Thomas would become the Republican presidential nominee come that summer's RNC.

She squirmed in his grasp, turning her head to look back at him, but he didn't let up. If anything, his arms tightened around her waist; his eyes didn't open. "I know you're awake, Thomas," she said, her voice expectant. Still, he didn't budge. "Stop with the act! I want breakfast," she said, and though she was making an honest effort to sound stern, giggles pervaded her soft voice as he nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Shh, sweetheart, 'm still sleepin'," he grumbled, voice gruff despite his ever-broadening grin. "Go back to bed. 'S too early for breakfast."

"Thomas, it's 11 AM," she replied flatly, and he cracked one eye open to see her skeptical stare. She couldn't hide her smile, either, though.

"'M not sure I follow your point." She rolled her eyes when his lips met the skin just below her ear, but she relaxed in his hold, tilting her head away as he began kissing down her jawline. "I've had a tirin' week; don't tell me you're really gonna try and deprive me of the little rest I get?"

"Mmh, that I can understand, but I'm not sure you're making much of an effort to get back to sleep right now." Her voice was knowing, and when he chuckled, she could feel the vibrations of the sound, the tickle of his breath against her skin.

"Sure I am." She let out a squeak when he nipped at her earlobe. "'S not my fault you're distractin' me. You're not bein' very considerate, sweetheart."

"Shut up!" she laughed, "I have places to be, you know. Keeping me trapped here may as well be actively sabotaging my career."

"Oh, so I should let you get up so you can get back to libelin' me in the papers?"

Y/N shifted in his arms, and that time he let her as she finally turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. "Precisely."

As Thomas leaned in to kiss her, he let out a quiet huff of laughter, his hands trailing down to her hips. "And gimme one reason I should let you," he whispered against her lips.

She shrugged, giving a coy smile. "It's good for your publicity?"

That time, his laugh was full-bodied as he pushed her onto her back, resting on his forearm beside her head, and that time, she pulled him down to her with her arms looped around his neck. When their lips met, his hand slid under her where she lay, pressing up against the small of her back. As her grin widened against his, his mouth fell to the skin of her neck, rising to leave the beginnings of a hickey just under her jawbone, and she squealed, a hand tangling into his hair.

"Thomas!" She tried to scold him, but the lighthearted surprise in her voice abandoned her intention. "Thomas, you cannot give me a hickey there, c'mon."

Obligingly, his lips left her neck, but his grin was wide as his nose brushed along the bottom of her cheek. "Now, I don't see why not. You've got a couple of 'em elsewhere; what's wrong with this one?"

"You know what's wrong with it." That time, she managed to keep her voice even as she raised her eyebrows at him, pulling his head back up toward hers. "If I wanna be able to hide that, I'm gonna have to walk around in a ski mask."

"Aw, c'mon, sweetheart." His left hand rose from her waist to her cheek, his thumb sweeping across her cheekbone as his fingertips brushed the hair behind her ear. "You really that ashamed to be sleepin' with the future president?"

"'Future president'," she repeated with a huff of incredulous laughter, the sound almost a snort. "You're so fucking full of yourself."

"I've heard people say that confidence is sexy," he said matter-of-factly, and she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe, but arrogance is kind of a turn-off." She gave an apologetic shrug, and as he shook his head with amusement, his smile was undeterred.

"I must be walkin' that line pretty well, then." His self-satisfaction permeated the entirety of his demeanor, and he kissed the corner of her mouth softly. "'Cause you've never seemed to mind."

"Oh my god, it is too early for your ego to already be this big," she groaned, shoving his shoulder, and though he rolled onto his back with little resistance, wearing a lazy grin, he pulled her with him, her hands resting on his shoulders and legs straddling his waist.

His hands ghosted across her hips. "Sorry, sweetheart, but really, you're the one feedin' my ego, so if you took some ownership of your actions, maybe we wouldn't have this problem."

She raised her eyebrows, eyeing him skeptically. "I'm feeding your ego? I have a few pages of published articles that'd beg to differ."

"I didn't say your writin' was."

"Then how am I feeding your ego, exactly?"

Despite how dubious her expectant expression remained, his smile only broadened. "You're feedin' my ego 'cause you keep comin' back here for more."

He didn't waste another moment before pulling her body back down against his, a hand resting at the nape of her neck as he leaned up to kiss her. She laughed against his lips and put up no resistance, not as he deepened it, not as his every action became more impatient, his every touch harsher. It was only when he tried to push her back so he was above her that she finally pulled away.

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head, her voice stern despite how her chest was heaving, how she was struggling to catch her breath. "I'm getting up, Thomas. The options I gave you were to get some more sleep or to finally pull yourself together and be productive. Last I checked, neither of those included making out in your bed."

He frowned, but the look in his eyes was playful regardless. "You're just bein' uncreative."

Y/N rolled her eyes with an entertained smile as she finally climbed off of him, and despite the thinly-veiled disappointment in his expression (something she failed to notice), he let her go easily.

"Where are you headed on a Saturday mornin' that's so urgent, anyway?" he asked, pursing his lips as he pushed himself off the side of his bed, standing and reaching down for the shirt he'd discarded onto his floor. She shrugged, pulling back on her jeans.

"I have an article I have to finish drafting by this evening. It's a bit longer than some of my others, and my editor's getting impatient."

He didn't realize the deliberacy in her not meeting his gaze. "Yeah? What's it about?"

"The usual," she said, glancing back at him with a smile. "You."

He grinned. "Y'know, I can get you a meetin' with a primary source, if you want."

Her laugh at his words was light as she fixed the necklace she'd fallen asleep in, detangling it from her hair. "Might that ‘meeting’ happen to be with you, right now?"

She raised an expectant eyebrow, and he huffed at her conviction as she pulled on her sweater. "'M gettin' too predictable, huh?"

"You still manage to keep me on my toes." Her reply was absent-minded, her focus instead on the torn clasp of her bra, and she stuffed it into her purse with a disappointed sigh. "But really, I should be headed out. I have a feeling it won't be too long before I run into you again."

"Just can't stay away from me, huh?" His gaze was teasing, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Not if I want to keep my job."