#and then by the time of LMK he's mellowed out more which MAKES SENSE.

[lunar-wandering]

laying in bed thinking about how Wukong is a people pleaser and this part of him gets frequently overlooked due to the focus on his hot-headedness/impulsivity

[miya-catsumu]

To throw it out there, I love Daichi, Kuroo and Kita! And if it's okay, can I request headcanons of the three as Alphas, please?

of course <3 I did not include nsfw this time (for no particular reason I just wanted to finish them as fast as possible for you) but if you would like some nsfw hcs lmk :D

Daichi !!

Big strong alpha Daichi ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

Probably smells like timber-wood

He is a very cheery and calm alpha and he has a lot of patience so he doesn't get angry too quickly

But will definitely discipline you if you've been bad >:(

I think he is medium possessive

He trusts you and loves you with all his heart and it's unlike him to go out of his way to claim you/scent you in front of others in an act of showing who ‘owns’ you.

With that said, he does like scenting you. He finds it very relaxing. He doesn't care if others see - it's natural and he loves you so why should he care about the opinions of others? He loves coming up to you and placing his chin on top of your head and nuzzling his head into your neck <3

He does get jealous a bit but he rarely acts on it. He’s good at pushing it down and ignoring it. However on the off chance that he feels like something will go wrong/another alpha is too friendly with you/he can smell bad intentions etc then he will go up and wrap his arms around you, growling at the offending alpha.

Alpha!Kita

Smells like petrichor ｡◕‿◕｡ (the smell of earth after the rain)

Honestly it's one of my favourite smells and it belongs to our pretty farmer boy <33

He’s so sweet and loving and caring and i wish he was real ಥ_ಥ

He’s very blunt as we all know so that means if another alpha tried to have their way with you / approach you / have bad intentions then he would definitely approach them with a little smile and then d e s t r o y them.

I hc that Kita happily picks apart every single flaw in a person if they disrespect him, he is THE King Bitch. I know we all think it's Tsukki or Oikawa but NO, not even Futakuchi or Komori can challenge this man’s bitchiness.

With that said he can be rude to you during your arguments but as soon as he smells your scent turning sour/unpleasant then he will change his attitude - it's kind of like a reality check for him. Expert lots of cuddles and a scenting session later!

But with that being said he is typically very mellow/kind/caring/gentle and it's very rare that he gets so worked up he snaps at you <3

Is he possessive? To an extent, he definitely doesn't like other alphas hanging around you (as aforementioned) but if they are your/his friends then he wouldn't mind. As long as they don't get too comfortable of course.

Also as an act of dominance he would definitely scent you in front of the alpha :)

He likes to cuddle you to sleep, his face resting in your neck next to your scent glands. Another baby who views scenting as sensual rather than sexual (though he still does it during the deed-)

Alpha!Kuroo

Ahhh big fluffy baby ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Smells like reading fan-fiction with a hot chocolate on a winter's day hejkgfewuhdf

He's very big and very protective of you

Loves nuzzling his nose with yours!!

While he does love scenting you, I think he views it as something more intimate and sexual. He definitely has a high sex drive which really comes into play during his ruts :3

He is definitely the jealous and possessive type. In fact he likes to flaunt that he has an omega/beta partner

He’s kind of indifferent to PDA, like yes he loves showing you off but he also doesn't go out of his way to cling to you

When another alpha approaches you he will get pretty snarky with them (ahem “master provoker” as Akaashi said i think at least lmfao) // also he will claim you when you get home :3 hehe

He gets jealous a bit and acts on it // pulling you away from the situation, draping himself over you and then taking you ✨home✨

Alpha!Aone

He probably smells like something warm and fresh at the same time?? Does that make sense?? Like a nice cup of tea ← its a surprisingly mellow scent for an alpha like him but once you get to know him it definitely suits him (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

He’s a gentle giant and loves you with his whole heart

I doubt he gets jealous or possessive as often as others. But when he does he will probably scare the alpha off simply by looking at them (and maybe pointing-)

I also think he will wait until you guys got home and then nuzzle in your neck - scenting himself with your scent :3 it makes him feel loved and calmed

It's also his way of reassuring himself that he loves you and that you love him (why else would you smell so delightful?)

Bb is not one for pda. You can initiate sure, but he is not very good at reciprocating it because he just feels like those sorts of things should be done at home

It takes a lot to anger him - and I mean A LOT because he is so calm and chill !! when/if he does get angry he’s likely to just release a powerful scent and glare at the offender (usually not you).

[crash-cinematic-universe]

troy barnes and his forgotten love confession

pairing: troy barnes/abed nadir 

summary: troy and abed wake up in the library surrounded by their disoriented classmates with their memories wiped. unfortunately for troy, one look in his friend’s eyes caused the entire forgotten ordeal to play out inside his head-- including the love confession that ended with a scream of agony.

warnings: uh language? insecurities maybe? zzzzombies? 

notes: trobed time babeyyyyyyyy B-) also this is sort of a trail run for me writing for trobed?  just trying it out with a short 1.3k word fic. lmk how you like it bc i am operating off of feedback. idk i love these two theyre wonderful and i would die for them i think. SPOILERS FOR COMMUNITY S2 EP6 “EPIDEMIOLOGY” 

taglist: @simonsbluee

______

            The first thing Troy noticed was the pounding headache. The lights were all too bright and everyone was too loud and he felt like he’d gotten hit by a car. It was almost as if he was hungover, but one glance at his surroundings disproved his theory. The library was filled with groggy students and staff, the hallways jammed by sluggish athletes and a passed out Leonard. Troy didn’t really care about them, though, all he really cared about was the fact that Abed was lying on the floor beside him in a torn up Predator costume. 

            It was Halloween. The dean had thrown a party-- why couldn’t he remember it? It was all a fuzzy cloud of nothingness; for Troy, that’s almost normal, but something about this felt… different. Almost as if the gaping hole in his brain was made by something other than Troy. For a moment, the memories teetered on the edge of his conscious stream of thoughts, but they were quickly dissolved by Abed’s groan of discomfort. 

            “Troy,” He whined. “Are we hungover or were we drugged by Russian spies?” Abed’s hand brushed Troy’s as he struggled to sit up beside his friend. “Or maybe the dean’s Halloween party descended into chaos to the point where the government had to get involved…” Abed trails off. Troy was too disoriented to focus on anything other than the wisp of a recollection that swirled in his hippocampus. He felt sick, but Abed made it a little better.

            “Abed,” Troy asks. His voice is unsure and the sentence is punctuated with a fitting voice crack. “Do you--”

            “Remember anything from the past 12 hours? No. I’m assuming you don’t either, which leads me to believe that no one here does. Usually, I’d be more than happy to launch ourselves into an investigation, but to be honest, I feel like shit,” Troy can only smile at Abed’s ability to read him like a book. It’s almost as if they shared brain cells-- Abed was, in every sense of the phrase, Troy’s soulmate. Something in Troy’s brain stirred the moment the word ‘soulmate’ crossed his mind. Something was lurking beneath the fog in his head, he just needed to draw it out. 

            “We should save the adventuring for tomorrow,” Troy agrees after a long pause. “God, my head hurts,”

            “When we get home we can watch a movie and lay down for a bit, that might make you feel better,” Abed assures before rising to his feet. He looked down at Troy expectantly, but Troy was frozen in place. Something about hearing Abed call his tiny dorm their home struck Troy differently than usual-- he held onto the phrase before looking back up at the man above him. Anxiously, Troy took Abed’s hand and rose to his feet. It was apparent that Abed mistook Troy’s silence for something negative.

            “We don’t have to watch a movie-- if you wanted to you could just go home. Or we could make a blanket fort and sleep in there,” 

            “I don’t care what we do, as long as we’re together,” Troy grins. “And, uh, away from the dean. He looks oddly… manic.” They both glance over at their dean and erupt into giggles at the sight of his askew wig and ruffled skirt. Dean Pelton’s costume was great, sure, but in that moment he looked less like Lady Gaga and more like a barbie doll that got caught in a garbage disposal. 

            Troy and Abed walked hand-in-hand to Abed’s dorm room, small groups of confused students hidden in the corners as they walked. The feeling of Troy’s fingers intertwined with those of his best friend was both familiar and foreign-- they held hands all the time, but this time felt different. It felt less like a simple sign of affection and more like a statement; with every brush of Abed’s fingers on Troy’s knuckles, something between them changed. 

            “I was thinking something mellow,” Abed cuts through the silence. “I don’t know why, but I don’t think I can handle anything too intense,” Troy nods, a movie suggestion falling silent on his lips as his eyes meet Abed’s for the first time that night. One glance in the spiraling brown irises his friend dawns opened the floodgates of Troy’s mind. It was everything, all at once-- an overwhelming whirlwind of emotion and struggle and pain and confusion. There were zombies and a hot doctor and chaos and the U.S Military, but Troy didn’t care about any of that. No, his main focus was the echoing goodbye in his brain.

            He and Abed were cornered. Troy could escape, but it soon became apparent that he would have to leave Abed or succumb to the zombie virus that overtook their community college. And so, Troy said the one phrase he held back every single time he saw Abed-- he spilled his guts before his best friend was torn apart. 

            “I love you,”

            “I know,”

            Troy’s eyes filled with tears; the mixture of the overwhelming rush of the past 12 hours and the emotions that rocked him to his core making his tears inevitable. It’s not uncommon for Troy to start crying, but Abed could tell that this time, something was different.

            However, Abed had never been good with handling emotional situations. He did his best, hastily tugging Troy into his dorm room. He sat him down on the sofa, grabbing the first blanket he saw and wrapping it snugly around Troy’s shoulders. Abed darted around the room, frantically searching for something to comfort Troy; it wasn’t until Troy grabbed Abed’s forearm that he paused.

            “Abed?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I--” Troy stopped. He didn’t know what to do. He was anxious and tired and all he wanted to do was fall asleep in the middle of a stupid horror movie next to his best friend, but he couldn’t do that because his hellbrain was screaming at him. He loved Abed, sure, but did Abed love him? An offhand Star Wars reference doesn’t count as an ‘I love you’, although when it came to Abed, you could never be sure. Troy thought back to the night he dislocated his shoulders. He thought about how he acted under stress, how he ruined his chances at a football scholarship; he ruined his life and made the best decision he ever had in the same move. He couldn’t take the risk again-- he couldn’t risk losing his closest friend over something so trivial. He took a deep breath.

            “I-- uh-- I really appreciate everything you’ve done. For me.” A second passes and Abed doesn’t react.

            “Oh. It’s okay, you’re my friend. I’ll always take care of you,” Abed’s voice was calculated and robotic, but his words held depth that only Troy could truly understand. Abed smiled before opening the cabinet beneath his TV, revealing a plethora of movies ranging from rom-coms to thrasher to historical fiction.

            “I went through the movie selection we have-- our mellow options include Coraline and--” 

            “There is no way that Coraline is mellow, that shit is horrifying!” Troy chuckled, wiping away the few remaining tears on his face. The mood was lightening and the natural rhythm the two shared was once again buzzing through the air. 

            One day, Troy will tell Abed how he feels. He did it once, he could probably do it again. Or maybe he can’t. Maybe he’ll be a coward forever. Maybe he’ll die alone in a ditch with a stray cat named Doug-- hell, even Doug will leave him--

            “Troy?” The swaddled man was snapped out of his thoughts. Troy tried his hardest to hide his anxiety, but it was apparent that he was failing.

            “Yeah?” Abed paused. He looked down at his palms before intertwining his fingers in his lap. There were three movies laid out on the coffee table, but Abed didn’t acknowledge them. Troy was afraid, but he wasn’t sure why. It was the odd seriousness that muted the buzz from before. Abed knew-- he had to. That’s the only reason why his mood would shift so drastically. He knew that Troy loved him, he remembered the disastrous party and the zombies and he knew. Finally, after three solid minutes of Troy’s silent panic, Abed spoke.

            “I love you.”

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 02 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8@assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers lmk if you want to be added to tags

words: 5.4k

warnings: 

desc: you’d just moved to d.c. full time, a promotion at your publication leading to a transfer to another district chapter, and you were more than thrilled to be there, more than ready to immerse yourself in the world of politics. what you weren’t ready for, though, was how the campaign trail you were following made your heart flutter and your stomach turn. you also hadn’t expected it to be so... gaudy? magenta? -- or perhaps, though you wouldn’t hear of it, that wasn’t the campaign’s effect at all.

IT WAS WITHIN a week from that day that Y/N had begun to establish a network nationwide, calling sponsors of events in states where she knew Jefferson was planning to speak, effectively mapping out his entire campaign trail so she'd never have to cast the second stone.

And the first Jefferson rally just so happened to be conveniently located right down by Charlottesville, Virginia — two hours south of her apartment, and less than one short of crushing her spirit.

Going to his first presidential rally of many seemed like a good idea at the time, the best way to get the first look at something not many knew about, get the first look to turn her writing into part of the thing itself; as it turned out, though, the fatal flaw in that plan was actually Thomas Jefferson.

She'd gotten into contact with both the event planner and the venue owner, had secured a place in the part of the event they were sectioning off specifically for press coverage. Her plan was to give a live feed covering the new information given at his first campaign rally, and later compile it into an article detailing his intentions as a candidate.

And while that wasn't quite where the wrench in her plans was thrown, it sure did lay the foundation for some real damage.

It started with the storm.

She wrapped her coat tighter around herself as she furrowed her brow, trying to both see and walk into the rain without getting it all up in her eyes. She muttered curses to herself as she pulled her hood back up over her (already soaking) hair, not foolish enough to think that pulling out her phone for a map would be a good idea.

She scowled. Oh, Jefferson. Making her drive a cool two hours through this weather, and then holding his rally in the most secluded venue apparently quite far off the beaten path.

She gritted her teeth before making a beeline for the coffee shop across the street, wind and rain whipping through her soaked hair and bouncing loudly from her thick raincoat. The moment she stepped into the shop was like a breath of fresh air. The door closed behind her with the tinkle of a bell, and she sighed. She pulled her hood down, loosening her coat as she embraced the warm atmosphere, the low buzz of animated conversation, clattering plates, and mellow jazz playing underneath it all.

Although she'd just stopped in to check the location on her phone, she was already tempted to stay awhile. She wiped the rain and smeared makeup from her cheeks with a tissue she'd stashed away in her briefcase. And then, as her screen quickly loaded, her jaw clenched involuntarily; she let out a groan as she buried her face in her hands.

According to the map, she was right on top of the address she'd been given, and somehow, just maybe, she wasn't exactly sure this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop was exactly the location of one of the first presidential rallies of the election. Call her a skeptic, but it didn't seem quite likely. (Then again, God, what had she expected when she went to Charlottesville?)

She approached the seemingly-friendly barista with a weary smile and a ten-dollar bill. "Hi, can I get a medium black coffee and directions to the Jefferson campaign rally?" She knew her voice sounded exhausted, but the desperation she was sure was written across her face only seemed to amuse the young woman as she grinned.

"I'll upgrade you to a large for the low price of the bags under your eyes," she chuckled, and Y/N let out a soft sigh. The barista probably had a better sense of humor about her situation than she did. She tapped Y/N's order into the cash register, making change in record time and moving to grab her a cup. "Can I get a name for the order?"

"Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." She flashed her an I-make-my-living-in-tips smile as she jotted her name down in thick black marker, before glancing back up at her and adding, "And the Jefferson rally was recently moved to the local library, about a block from here. It was supposed to be in the square about five hundred feet in front of this shop, but the storm came this morning out of nowhere."

She nodded to the windows at that, and Y/N couldn't help but glance at the grimace-inducing crash of thunder behind the harsh tattoo of rain. Even to call it a storm was a near understatement.

The barista spoke again, pulling her attention back to the counter before her. "Drop back and let me know how it is, yeah?"

Y/N gave her a small grin as she handed her cup off to another barista. "I'll be sure to, but it's only fair to warn you that if you're looking for positive feedback, you're looking in the wrong place."

She let out a light laugh, adjusting her hijab as she moved to reset the register. "Don't worry, not all Virginians are behind him. I'm one of the good ones." She shot her a wink with that, and Y/N's grin grew as she moved to the other side of the counter to wait for her drink.

Her coffee was done in a matter of minutes; her same barista handed it off to her with a grin and a "good luck." (She did make sure to tip her well, though she couldn't pretend she didn't know that was the point of her shtick.) And with that, she was off to the races. The presidential races, that was.

She wasn't altogether thrilled to have to duck back into the downpour, nor to have to race five blocks down clutching her scalding coffee to her chest and yanking her hood down every two feet. She was all but shocked the coffee wasn't all down the front of her green blouse by the time she arrived at the library.

As it turned out, the local library was rather gorgeous. The place went several floors up, all of them visible from the opening in the middle of the room around which the staircases winded. It was abuzz with what she perceived to be everyone from the press to local politicians to voters to the opposition. No one seemed to want to miss such a kickoff event for the election.

As Y/N walked through the open area, she caught consistent snippets of conversation — Jefferson and President being a few key terms. From what she could tell, the building was split into equal parts scathing critiques of the man she was there to see and his most loyal supporters. By around the time she made it to the center of the room and seemed no closer to any sort of destination, she began to question exactly where she was headed.

"Excuse me?" She strode up to a man clad in a well-tailored suit, an air of familiar authority surrounding him as he interacted with those who seemed to have approached him.

He turned to her after letting out a jovial laugh at something another woman was saying, smiling widely in fading amusement. "Hi, what can I do for you?" His deep voice seemed to be on-brand with everything else about him.

"Hi." She couldn't help her smile growing at the man's demeanor; he seemed genuine, but Y/N had also pegged him as a politician from the moment she met him, so she didn't abandon her notion to be wary. "I'm here for the Jefferson rally, and well, I get the feeling I'm in the right place," —she glanced at the packed room around her with a weary smile, causing the other man's grin to grow��� "but exactly where am I headed for the main event? Or is everyone just waiting out here until doors open somewhere?"

"Where Secretary Jefferson is actually going to be speaking is another floor up, but everyone is waiting here for the time being." He gave her a once-over, pursing his lips as he eyed her attire. She knew her skirt-suit and blazer didn't exactly scream miscAngelicaneous supporter, but she certainly did not come off as a politician of any sort. "Are you here with the press?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up; while a part of her was shocked he had he pegged that easily, she supposed being able to read people was an occupational hazard when you worked in politics. "I... Yes, I am."

"Then you can feel free to let yourself up if you'd like. We have a part of the room sectioned off for reporters; just let them know who you are and who you're here with," he explained, and she raised an eyebrow. Security seemed awfully relaxed for such an inaugural event. He paused for a moment, considering himself. "Did you perhaps call ahead?"

"Yeah, I got in touch with the event organizer about a week ago," she said, her hands resting in her coat pockets. "Why?"

He smiled, nodding toward the nearest staircase. "Here, let me show you up there myself. Securing clearance for reporters is a bit of an ordeal."

She rose her brow once again, her mouth fell open into an 'o' shape in surprise. "Alright, thank you, Mr... ?" She trailed off, looking at him expectantly, and he offered her a hand to shake with a grin.

"Madison." She shook his hand with a smile of recognition. Things were beginning to fall into place in her head; this had to have been James Madison, both an old friend of Alexander and the man projected to be Jefferson's running mate. It was a wonder she didn't recognize him sooner. "And you are?" he asked in turn, and she grinned.

"Y/N L/N. I'm here with the Washington Post."

He raised a curious eyebrow, his easy smile never fading from his expression. "It's great to meet you, Ms. L/N. Follow me." He started toward one of the staircases just off to his left, a bit behind him after bidding farewell to the many curious voters who appeared to have flocked to him. She turned to go after him with a deep breath.

She was having trouble not feeling small, this being the first event of such a magnitude that she'd attended for the purpose of writing an article; the big venue and bigger names didn't help. As she ascended the staircase, practical pumps clicking on the shining tile, she raised her chin, doing her best to remind herself why she was there, keep in mind that she, too, was among the population of suits who needed to walk with a purpose.

As they walked, Madison glanced over his shoulder at her. "Do you happen to be the same Y/N L/N who broke the initial article detailing the circumstances of this campaign?"

She couldn't help but note how formally he spoke; she brushed a hair away from her face, the corners of her mouth curved upward timidly. "Yeah, that's me."

"Then I suppose that it's you who I have to thank for actually spreading real information about Secretary Jefferson's campaign, as opposed to conjecture and gossip." His low voice floated back over his shoulder as she raised her eyebrows. "We consider ourselves to be lucky that your article, of all those written that day, spread like wildfire. Although I can't say that Thomas is thrilled about the light your tweets cast him in."

"Well, the goal was to give people more than a CNN notification update about the election. I'm as glad as anyone that they were actually reading it." Y/N gave a wry smile as she paused, considering herself. "As for the tweets, I hope he doesn't expect much to change."

"Oh, by no means," he chuckled, meeting her gaze with smiling eyes as they reached the landing of the second floor. "Besides, any press is good press when you're making an effort to popularize a candidate. Even the kind of press that involves blackmailing said candidate after he refuses to take questions."

He gave her a knowing look at that, mischief dancing in his eyes that she hadn't thought to exist, and her jaw dropped slightly. He seemed to be reveling in her wide-eyed stare, raising an eyebrow when she was speechless for a moment as they continued.

"So you know about that, then?" she asked sheepishly, pursing her lips as he gave a laugh.

"Oh, I certainly do."

"Between that and the tweets, I'm surprised you haven't had me removed from the premises," she joked, trying to ease the nerves that talking to this man was quickly instilling in her.

"That's assuming I'm not leading you to security so they can throw you out," he retorted, and her eyes quickly widened. He seemed to catch wind of her slight-but-genuine panic, grinning as he added, "That was a joke, Ms. L/N."

"You didn't strike me as someone who joked, Mr. Madison." She raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged, his light smile diffusing ever-so-slightly the tension she was trying hard not to feel.

"I suppose I'll have to work on that, then." He hesitated for a moment, considering himself, but said, "In all seriousness though, I'm more than glad you ended up interviewing him. Speaking in confidence, his decision not to take questions about the announcement was a foolish one at best, and anyone would've told him the same if he had cared enough to ask."

"I get the feeling that won't be the last of those moments on the campaign trail." Y/N gave him an amused grin, and he all but rolled his eyes, lips pressed into a line to suppress a smile.

"I've worked with him for years; I don't get that same feeling." He glanced back at Y/N with an amused gaze as they walked, adding, "By now, I know that won't be the last stupid thing he does."

She laughed at that, fidgeting with the strap on her purse and the hem of her blazer. "For his sake, I'm glad he has you to keep him in check."

"For my sake, I'm glad there are reporters like you willing to help me with it." By then, they had reached the doors to the room where the actual event was being held, and Madison murmured a 'give me a moment' as he approached the lone security guard they had stationed at the entrance.

He exchanged a few words with the guard, flashed him a grin and gestured toward Y/N, who did her best to look neutrally pleasant despite the anxiety coursing through her veins. Ultimately, the man (who she supposed was venue security; he didn't appear to be with the government) gave him a nod, stepped aside to allow Mr. Madison and her into the room. He thanked him heartily as he took the door, held it open for Y/N with an easy smile.

"Thank you, so much," she said, proceeding into the room with him just a few steps behind.

"Of course, Ms. L/N." He grinned, moving just in front of her, leading her toward a table off to the left in the back of the room. She sighed.

"It's Y/N; don't bother with the formalities." She waved away his unsure expression with a soft smile, and he pursed his lips.

"Alright, Y/N." He took a few steps past her, grabbing a few things from the table and turning to hand them to her — a lanyard and a name tag. She raised an eyebrow; apparently calling ahead could open more doors for you than she expected. "Then I guess it's James to you, so long as we've done away with the formalities."

He led her a bit further into the room, carrying himself with an air of importance as she glanced around the area. "So most of this area is just going to be open to anyone, the general public, whoever wants to be here, but," — He gestured off to the left, where a number of chairs lay roped off from the main crowd. The low clamor of political chatter flowed over from the area, a gaggle of pseudointellectuals carrying on about current events — "this part of the venue has been sectioned off for the purpose of being able to accommodate reporters and journalists. You'll find there has been enough space saved for you, seeing as you called ahead to confirm arrangements."

She turned to him with a warm smile as he motioned to the space. "Well thank you, James. I hope I'll be seeing more of you as I cover the campaign."

He raised an eyebrow, his smile growing if only by a millimeter at her words. "You're on this campaign for now?"

"Try the next two years," Y/N said dryly, "You'll be sick of me before the primaries."

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "I wouldn't worry. I have, by now, known Thomas for longer than I care to remember, and still managed to let him rope me into managing his campaign." He hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the stage of the venue with a grin. "And if I can handle him that long, I can take anyone."

"Then you're stronger than most," she quipped, eliciting a snort from the man.

"Tell me about it." He glanced at her for a moment, considering her as he unfolded his arms. "I look forward to seeing you around, Y/N."

She smiled. "Likewise."

_________________

Y/N HAD SETTLED into the press section just minutes later, her glasses pushed up the bridge of her nose and her game face on. Her eyes narrowed, nose scrunching up as she focused intently on her computer screen, confirming with her boss that she had clearance to set up a live coverage feed, fact-checking and real-time reporting the nonsense she was wholly prepared for the presidential candidate to spew. She was so focused, in fact, that she didn't notice the reporter just to her left watching her with amused eyes.

So it was to no one's surprise but hers when she nearly jumped out of her seat upon him finally saying something to her.

"So what publication are you here with?"

When she finally regained her bearings, her smile was anxious, and she pushed her glasses back as she replied. "I'm, ah, with the Washington Post." She hesitated for a moment, still feeling off guard as she eyed the amused look playing at the man's lips, the laugh dancing in his eyes, before asking, "What about you?"

"New York Times." He leaned in, offering her his hand to shake. "Ben Arnold."

She pursed her lips, before taking his hand and saying, "Y/N L/N."

"So what brings you here, Y/N?" He moved away once again to rest against the back of his chair, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, and she shrugged, giving a light smile.

"Same as everyone over here," she said, nodding toward the reporters on her left and right, "Following a story. Hoping someone will create one for me." She grinned at that, sharing a glance with him before looking to the stage. He chuckled, nodded.

"A noble goal." With that, he paused; he raised an eyebrow as he eyed here for a moment, spared her a sidelong glance. "You from around here? Forgive me when I say you don't seem exactly... the type."

She had to stifle a laugh at that, eyebrows nearing her hairline as she looked back at him, amused disbelief dancing in her eyes. "'The type'? What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged as he shifted his gaze back toward the stage. "You don't seem as cold or cutthroat as DCers tend to be."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Now what makes you say that?" Her expression read curiosity now as she fixed her gaze on Ben. He gave her a knowing grin.

"You're making small talk at a work event."

She couldn't help her full laugh at that; he had her pegged. "Alright, you got me. I'm not from here. You sound like you speak from experience though; how long have you lived in DC?"

He again leaned forward in his chair, his smile an easy one at her reaction to his words. "Yeah, I've been covering politics for the New York Times for six years now. Have yet to publish my big breakout story, though, unfortunately."

"So do you report on the government domestically, then?" she asked. He nodded.

"Something like that." He leaned back in his chair, opened his mouth to continue speaking, but was promptly cut off by the clamor of the crowd who'd all just been let in. He instead chuckled, sharing a look with Y/N. "Seems like a lively crowd."

"That is certainly a word you could use for it," Y/N shrugged, and Ben snorted.

"How's 'chaotic'?"

"More apt." Y/N paused a moment, sharing a grin with the man, before turning back to her laptop. "Anyway, them letting the guests in must mean Jefferson's not too far from going on stage. I really should finish setting up my live feed." She gave him an apologetic look, and his smile didn't falter.

"Hey, don't let me stop you. That is what we're here for, Y/N." He hesitated a moment, reaching into his bag and withdrawing a small piece of paper. "Take my card, though. Let me know if you ever need anything — a contact, some info, whatever."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised but pleased at the development, and took the card with a smile. "Why thank you, Ben Arnold."

He grinned. "Anytime, Y/N."

__________________

SEVERAL MINUTES PASSED yet before Jefferson went on, and even more did so as he skirted giving details on his actual policies. It kept Y/N on her toes, though, raking through his voting records, previous statements and speeches, as well as his actions as the Secretary of State. Y/N couldn't help but wonder how many calories she had burned through the speech, what with having spent the past hour running sprints through a mile-long list of everything Jefferson had ever done.

This time, he did, in fact, take questions. (That's a first, thought Y/N dryly.) Most of his answers seemed practiced, canned, meaningless fluff, because no one in the general crowd had come to play hardball with their questions. Unfortunately for him, Y/N had worn her gym shoes — metaphorically. (Realistically, she hobbled through the storm in her most practical pair of black pumps.)

Regardless, she wasn't there for a scrimmage. She wanted a game.

Her eyes scanned the crowd around her, searching for one of the event attendees bringing microphones around so those in their seats could post questions to the Secretary of State. She smiled as she caught one of the men's gaze, flagging him down to bring her the mic.

Once it was safely in her hand, though, her sharp gaze was fixed back on Jefferson, laughing as he assured a voter he wouldn't be raising taxes, so long as he could help it. The woman he was addressing seemed to be pleased with his answer, so the spotlight in the crowd shifted to Y/N. Perhaps she had imagined it, but Y/N could have sworn she saw Jefferson's smile widen as he caught her eye. (She certainly hadn't imagined it when his eyes roamed her figure, lingering for a moment on the neckline of her deep green blouse.)

"Secretary Jefferson," she began, no trace of a smile any longer settled on her lips. "As president, how would you plan to conduct the United States in the current humanitarian crisis in Yemen?"

His expression was steady as his piercing gaze met her own, wearing a smile that was all but strained. "My stance on the war in Yemen hasn't changed, Ms. L/N," — She certainly didn't remember having given her name when she stood to speak — "and I firmly maintain that the United States has not done enough to help the innocent citizens in Yemen suffering through this war, through no fault of their own."

He gave her a warm (fake) smile, about to turn away and address another question, but she wasn't done. "Alright, well if the situation has escalated to its current state — and the U.S. has done next to nothing thus far — under your watch as Secretary of State, what reason do we have to believe that will change with you as President?"

He hesitated a moment, a fire lit behind his eyes as he recognized her challenge for what it was; she could hear a quiet murmur of discussion from the section of reporters around her, could see Jefferson's jaw tick under the stage lights despite the smile he retained.

"Ms. L/N," he repeated slowly, before turning slightly to address the entire crowd, "and to all those present today, I urge you to recognize that one person cannot start a war, and nor can one person finish one. Many factors, political and global, went into the escalation of the crisis in Yemen, and the State Department has made a genuine effort to do our part to aid and support the Yemeni people through it."

"Yes, but—"

"Yes sir, up front in the blue?" Y/N's immediate reflex to push him further was cut off before it could continue. Jefferson's charismatic facade was back, stronger than ever as he addressed the man he'd called on to end Y/N's interrogation, but his clearly cutting her off seemed far from well-received, if the uncomfortable buzz of the crowd was anything to go off of.

Y/N retook her seat, though reluctantly, her jaw tight and arms folded across her chest as she stared disdainfully up at the presidential hopeful. Ideally, a hopeful would be all he could become, if she had anything to say about it — and this time, she wouldn't be cut off.

________________

A NUMBER OF questions (that weren't hers) and a struggle to not be trampled by the crowd on her way out of the auditorium later, Y/N found herself back on the lobby floor, this time with Jefferson roaming around shaking hands, as opposed to his associates.

She finally caught him at a free moment, right between kissing babies and schmoozing voters, and didn't hesitate to weave through the crowd, making a beeline for where he stood.

"Secretary Jefferson," —He turned to her with wide eyes, visibly startled at her approach— "Care to make a statement for the record about your approach to counterterrorism worldwide?"

He couldn't help but grin at her no-nonsense attitude, recognizing her immediately by her expectant expression and businesslike tone. He already knew she'd shown at the event, but it was apparently too presumptuous to have thought her questioning during the rally would've been all. "Thought we had agreed you were callin' me Thomas."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised for a moment at the confirmation that he'd recognized her, and folded her arms, suddenly feeling rather defensive. "You'll have to forgive me for supposing that when you nearly hit someone with a car, you'd be in a bit of a rush to forget it."

"It's hard to forget a lady who extorts you for an interview you weren't plannin' on givin'." He raised his eyebrows with that, returning her challenge, though the mischief dancing in his eyes never withered.

Heat crept up the back of Y/N's neck at that, though. She wasn't sure what she expected when she decided to grill Jefferson on his policy, but it certainly wasn't that things would be turned back on her. "I needed a story," she ultimately said, lamely.

"And you're willin' to do anythin' to make one then, huh?" He took another step forward, encroaching on Y/N's space — and while it would've looked to anyone else they were having a friendly conversation about his campaign, Y/N's skin was crawling.

His expression was still pleasant, but she scowled. "I wouldn't say it's my fault nothing you're doing is enough to constitute its own story." She paused, considering his raised brow, before adding, "I'd think you'd want press coverage, but your strategy so far isn't going to get it for you."

"I seem to be doin' just fine on that front, Y/N." He glanced around him, looking smug as he surveyed the area. "We got reporters from all the big publications in the area. And you're here." Jefferson gave her a very pointed look with that, eyebrows raised expectantly, and she knew he was right. With the name he already had, it'd be a cold day in hell when his presidential bid didn't receive twice the air time as anyone else's.

Sighing, she decided to change the subject, knowing exactly which role she was filling so far in this game of cat and mouse. "Anyway, who are you thinking of as your running mate, Mr. Je—" He folded his arms, and she hesitated, "Thomas?"

His eyes shone with satisfaction at that, a satisfaction which Y/N couldn't quite place the source of. "Off the record?"

"Not unless you need it to be." He pursed his lips at that, his smile still hardly contained as he looked down at her.

"Alright, but just so y'know, nothin's official." He glanced across the room a moment, his eyes flitting back and forth before his expression split into a grin. "You've met James?"

She raised an eyebrow, couldn't help but smile herself at that as she looked back at Jefferson. "So he's really who you're considering?"

"Don't see why not." He looked down at her with a fox-like grin, and added, "Don't tell me you've got an issue with that; from what I heard you two were gettin' on just fine."

"No complaints here." She laughed, brushing a loose hair behind her ear, and gave him a roguish smile. "Seems like he's the only thing that'll make these next two years tolerable."

"Well sweetheart, if you get sick of me, you can always feel free to harass the Democrats," he said matter-of-factly, and she rolled her eyes, gave a huff of mirthless laughter.

"Fat chance." He raised an eyebrow at her cynicism, and she explained, "I'm signed on to follow your campaign right up until the election — or when you lose the nomination. My editor's decided you're someone to watch, and I'm the poor sucker stuck doing it."

"Well honestly, 'signed on' sounds to me like you had a say in the matter." His grin grew as he folded his arms across his chest, drawing ever closer to Y/N. "So you decided you wanted to spend the next two years of your life with me. Honestly, I'm flattered, Y/N."

Jefferson's smile was far too smug for her liking, and for the sake of professionalism, she resisted the urge to slap it off his face, choosing instead to say, "Don't get too cocky. They're jacking up my pay for this too, Thomas." (That wasn't true, mind you, but she needed an excuse that made it seem like they twisted her arm. She couldn't allow Jefferson the satisfaction, otherwise.)

"Oh, yeah?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You bet."

"Sounds like you owe me then, Y/N." His grin had mellowed out to a soft smile by then, which almost felt more threatening given the circumstance. She felt herself swallow roughly as Jefferson fixed her with a chilling stare. "And it sounds like I'm gonna spend the next two years figurin' out how you can ever pay me back."

____________

TWITTER

@Y/N_L/N: And into the presidential race we go. See my recent article for the Washington Post for an update on Secretary Jefferson's future political plans -- or in cases, his lack of such.

Leaps and Bounds or Drones and Airstrikes: Thomas Jefferson's Foreign Policy https://washingtonpost.com/this/isn&t-a-site

Replying to @Y/N_L/N: @AngelicaSchuy: I take it you took the job, then? 😉

Replying to @AngelicaChurch: @Y/N_L/N: Here's hoping I won't live to regret it 🥂

Replying to @Y/N_L/N: @LizaHamilton: I don't think you know how unreasonably proud it makes me when you publish new articles

Replying to @LizaHamilton: @Y/N_L/N: have i mentioned at all recently that i love you??? oh my god???

...

@A_Hamilton wants to send you a message. Accept?

Offscreen, Y/N couldn't help but furrow her brow at the notification. Why wouldn't he just text her? What was so important that it couldn't wait for him to open a different app? Hesitantly, she pursed her lips and pressed accept.

@A_Hamilton: WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU ACCEPT THE OFFER

@A_Hamilton: YOU COULD'VE BEEN WRITING PERFECTLY GOOD ARTICLES ABOUT DOMESTIC POLICY OR,,, TAXES

@A_Hamilton: as proud as I am of you for smearing Jefferson in your article, rethink your priorities, jfc

@Y/N_L/N: cool it, asshole. it's a good opportunity and has already, ironically, gotten ME good press as a reporter

@Y/N_L/N: just because you hate the prick in purple doesnt mean he isn't good for my career

@A_Hamilton: Y/N, please, i love you and you know how adamantly i support you and your career

@A_Hamilton: but please, for the love of god, it's not too late to reconsider

@Y/N_L/N: always fun talking to you, lex.

...

@JamesMdson started following you.

@JamesMdson liked your recent tweet.

Y/N hesitated, pursed her lips as her phone lit up with the notification, before tapping on his profile.

Messages to: @JamesMdson

@Y/N_L/N: yknow, id think that as a campaign manager, you wouldn't like tweets smearing your candidate

@JamesMdson: please, Y/N, if you managed a campaign youd understand that no one will ever hate a candidate as much as their manager

@Y/N_L/N: im begging you to let me use that on record

@JamesMdson: for my sake, it'd better not be

@Y/N_L/N: no fun

...

@Thomas_Jefferson: Thank you all, people of Charlottesville, for an incredible turnout at an astoundingly successful first campaign rally! So much love for the people of my hometown.

img.653667.987.jpeg

Replying to @Thomas_Jefferson: @Y/N_L/N: would you mind defining 'success', if only for bookkeeping purposes? we seem to be operating under different definitions

Replying to @Y/N_L/N: @A_Hamilton: i may have to approve of your assignment after all just for tweets like these

Replying to @A_Hamilton: @Y/N_L/N: 🤠🤠🤠

Replying to @Y/N_L/N: @Thomas_Jefferson: How would you feel about defining success as having been able to see you all afternoon? 😉

Replying to @Thomas_Jefferson: @Y/N_L/N: how do i dislike a tweet

@A_Hamilton liked your tweet.

@Thomas_Jefferson liked your tweet.

...

@Thomas_Jefferson wants to send you a message.

[xxmadsxoxo]

Get to know me

Hey guys! I know I said I’d be writing, and putting stories out soon. It’s just been really hectic, and I swear I will get to it. I figured I’d do something a little fun, and tell you a few things about me.

Here are some facts:

1. I’m a hardcore lover, not necessarily in bed. More so in general, if I love someone I most likely will love them forever. Or never stop caring about them, no matter how hard I try.

2. I like literally all genre of music, and any generation of music. If I haven’t heard it, chances are I’d like it anyway.

3. I’m a sucker for concerts, parties, amusement parks, really anything outside. I like doing things, and I hate having nothing on my schedule.

4. I’m constantly broke, I come from a pretty poor family. I have had 5 jobs since I was 16, and I’m 18. I work hard, but I won’t put up with snakes.

5. I’m a big family person, I love my family. I really do, I probably wouldn’t be able to move far from them anytime soon. Even though I love my family, I have cut out toxic members. Just because we are blood does not mean, that I will put up with your toxic lifestyle.

6. I’m a BIG movie/tv show person. I love so many movies, I have never been able to pick a favorite. I used to be able to pick a favorite show, but now not so much. If you ever wanted a list of my few top favorites, just lmk.

7. I’m in love with the sky, I love watching the clouds roll by, any sunset is beautiful these days. I’m a watch the stars kind a person, I love looking at the moon, and watching the night sky. Clouds will forever fascinate me.

8. I love both cats and dogs. I grew up with them all my life, never had a problem with either one. Of course I’ve had other animals growing up, such as; Ferrets, Racoons, Hamsters, Fish, and Bunny’s.

9. I’m a genuine person, I will say what I’m thinking. I don’t say awful things, unless you really bring it out of me. Which is rare that anyone gets that part of me out, I’m pretty mellow most the time. I will almost always support you, unless it’s really dumb what you’re doing.

10. I’m not a political person in the sense, that I didn’t really grow up learning about what the president had been doing wrong. Because my parents weren’t really into it either. Now I’m into it, because I don’t want to see anyone get outnumbered by powerful people. With a really bad mindset.

Here are some (political) things you may want to know about me, before you decide to follow me.

I support abortions, then again I feel like almost all women do.

I don’t like trump, then again I also feel like most people don’t. (Which still leaves me confused on how he became president.)

I love the LGBTQ+ community. I feel like everyone should, and that’s all I have to say about them.

Our justice system needs to fucking change, right fucking now. The fact that abortion could get a women locked up for years, but a rapist only gets a few months and probation.. it really fucks with my head. Along with the a white guy getting caught with possession of marijuana, only getting let off with simple shit or something, and then a POC getting arrested and put in jail.

I hate that the world is struggling to fix the shit we have ruined, because if we could make things to destroy this beautiful planet. I think we could just as easily make things to make things better, and nobody can argue with me about this. We fucked it up, WE NEED TO FUCKING FIX IT. Thank you for reading, leave me some asks! I love talking to you guys, and I promise I’ll try my best to start writing soon.

[flymoonstruck]

earworms, #1

So, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now in Bulgarian and it was only fair to start the series in English, too. Every week you will get a small selection of 5 (ish) new records that I find interesting and noteworthy. We kick off with last week’s issue and will follow up shortly with some brand new stuff. Hope you’ll enjoy and share some feedback!

1. Elli Ingram - Table For Two

After messing around (in the best possible way) with Mr Jukes, Ms. Ingram makes a full-blown comeback with “Table For Two” - an optimistic track which tells a story about how not only our meals cool down sometimes, but relationships as well. “I’ll go smoke, while you’ll stay staring at your phone”, the intimate setting of the table isn’t so romantic anymore and everything seems lost, soundtracked by soft jazzy tones and tender vocals. Kudos for the stylish visuals and that old Nokia.

2. The War On Drugs - Pain

It still might be just August but in line with cooling down and the previous song, The War On Drugs get us into the cold, where there’s no optimism, even melody-wise, and warmth gives its way to pain.

3. Isaac Gracie - The Death Of You And I

Okaay, Red Right Hand vibes, anyone? Arguably, the track of the week. “The Death Of You And I” is an obvious turn for Gracie in almost every sense imaginable - sonically, in terms of production, genre and even quality. Not that what we’ve heard so far from him has been bad anyhow, not at all. Isaac is just growing up and dives deeper into classic rock sounds at the expense of his habitual acoustic-indie waters. Channeling the Beatles and Nick Cave has also turned out rather well.

4. Killer Bee - 4reel

A textbook example of a Soundcloud producer and that special breed of mellow/lo-fi hip-hop that unnoticeably but solidly made its way into our minds and playlists. Killer Bee is a real killer - a New York boy, who has adopted the Naruto’s character name and incorporates anime culture in his work in a typical of the genre manner. Last week he released another beat tape on Soudcloud and you can download it for free, if you don’t feel charitable enough to support him by buying it. What’s not to like?

https://soundcloud.com/prodbykillerbee/4reel

5. Kelela - LMK

Another textbook example, this time of that sweet 90’s r&b, put through the prism of present-day music. Kelela’s been around for quite a while but surprisingly (despite these two lengthy EPs), we are still waiting for a proper full length debut. Luckily, it seems we’re gonna get that soon.

6. AJ Tracey - Blacked Out

That’s Not Me meets Black in a good way. A track produced by Sir Spyro and included in an upcoming EP.

Lastly, here’s Tom Grennan with his new Found What I’ve Been Looking For EP. The Bedford chap delivers more of the same good stuff we’ve been getting so far from him with a few acoustics, a few sonically interesting demo versions which are a promising nod to an upcoming debut record and a few attempts at conquering new stylistic horizons.

Beginning of last week Fink presented “Cracks Appear”. In September he puts out his 9th studio record Resurgam and in October plays Sofia Live Club in Sofia, Bulgaria.

[angstandhappiness]

FASCINATING THOUGH

OP's tags: #tagging LMK cause i do think it uses this part of him#to add in events while still having him remain in Character#like of course Azure and the others convinced him to not be afraid and take on heaven#before heaven's army could arrive on his doorstep and force him to fight like in the books#like. he got kicked out of school because the other students encouraged him to show off#this is one hundred percent in character for him#if he got a single compliment he'd go along with whatever that person said when he was young#which is also part of how the Gold Star of Venus convinced him to get a job in Heaven#which Wukong was originally uninterested in#the fight against heaven + the mountain jaded him which made him more easily angered#(yknow. like a reasonable response to trauma)#but EVEN STILL during the Journey HE'S STILL A PEOPLE PLEASER#and then by the time of LMK he's mellowed out more which MAKES SENSE.#i could do a whole entire more formally written analysis about this but this is what i've got#brain cannot brain any more than this#anyways obligatory my opinions are my own and i respect anyone who disagrees with me tag#anyone who has another opinion is wonderful and valid but these are my thoughts

laying in bed thinking about how Wukong is a people pleaser and this part of him gets frequently overlooked due to the focus on his hot-headedness/impulsivity