#i didnt even do that much research for my OWN car

[ficklefood]

ok more thoughts for my married jasico fic(?) idea (that i talked about in my last post)

they are in their mid-late 20s by this point, nico has now taken on a director-type kind of role in camp half-blood and is way more hands-on than either chiron or mr d. the demigods absolutely love nico and look up to him, and nico kind of has this thing going on where he *pretends* to be stern and mature as an authority figure, but the kids thinks he's too cool in like, an edgy epic way, to ever be actually scared of him. (which, of course, boggles him every time and makes his heart twist because these kids like him and arent scared, even though he's been in a staff role on camp for like 7 years and counting now)

nico is pretty much a kindergarten-middle school-high school teacher (because chb's got kids of all ages), pretty much a physical education-arts and crafts-home economics-all around teacher, slash guidance counselor, slash wilderness and survival coach, slash friendship/love advice-giver/mediator -- he does a lot on camp for the kids. and a lot of his time is dedicated to the younger ones, who of course need more guidance and supervision. nico's pretty much settled into the role of everyone's secondary parent (and for some sad cases, he has to play as a primary parent figure). it's demanding work but he wouldnt have it any other way. he's making sure that camp is *home* for the young demigods in a way he wished he had it from the very beginning.

i also like the idea of nico having taken a few psychology and education courses, to help him be a better support figure for demigods who are going through some traumatic stuff. gods know he's been through a lifetime's worth of trauma a kid shouldn't have gone through. he didnt finish an entire degree though, he decided that academics isnt really his thing

jason, on the other hand, went to college to study history and got really into it. now he's pursuing a career as a historian and is starting his phd! everyone, including himself, thought he would be into roman military history, but as he started his historical studies and was exposed to all kinds of different stuff, he eventually settled on a real interest in social history, especially queer history, in the ancient world. he finished his undergrad at new rome but started his postgrad someplace nearer long island/camp half blood, so nico can go to work in camp, and because jason got a good offer at whatever university anyway

they have a house near camp and jason drives nico to and from work since they have 1 car. picking nico up and driving home together after a long day always puts a smile on jason's face, no matter how tiring or frustrating his research was that day. he would always find time to help nico out on camp, and often gives special history classes to the kids (alongside the usual combat training and strategy classes he's always been good at too). nico and jason go jogging along camp halfblood's beach every sunday. the campers know jason and love him as they love nico! he's more open about spoiling them, especially the littler ones, than nico, who also cant help his soft spot for them, but at still tries to be stern (and fails)

by this point theyre more than ready to start their own little family. theyre so so ready to have their own kids! nico cherishes the happy moments with his family from his childhood, before everything got complicated.... jason wants to find that happy family life, that he never really got to have as a kid, with nico.... so they talk about it from time to time until they decide to actually *do* something about it and start looking up their options like adoption or surrogates and then boom, one day a baby shows up on their doorstep, with soft, blond hair like jason and warm, dark eyes like nico, swaddled up in a basket and sleeping soundly, and oh...the baby is a gift from...juno? who's pleased that they're such a wonderful married couple and deigned to go ahead and grant them this beautiful child?

anyway ok much to think about much to flesh out, but god i really want this to be A Fic that i can yknow Read and stuff and just have in my hands. yknow. ugh

[sleepyperefix]

Fundamentally I liked Season 2. I have watched it twice now and I do enjoy it but there was something bugging me the entire time and I think I figured out why I might prefer Season 1. Also mild spoilers.

I am fine with it being a mid-chapter. It is quiet comfort (except for the end). It makes perfect sense and I also like the more chill and quiet atmosphere, Neil Gaiman did amazing and my problem is not a problem with the show but a personal preference.

My personal problem is the big focus on aziraphale and crowley. I get why it is like this and it makes perfect sense. I cannot with good conscious blame Neil Gaiman for this choice as I do not know what is planned or what he wants. It's his show and he can do what he wants. I also get that many people loved the big focus. It is great for the characters and the supporting cast is perfectly charming.

However, I would have prefered more beelzebub/gabriel and more concerning the entire framing story sprinkled in throughout the season. Not just clues aziracrow find and follow but actual (obscured) flashbacks to Gabriel and Beelzebub. You didnt necessarily needed to know they were involved but flashbacks of them both scheming seemingly on their own with references to something big would have made the mystery more enticing. (Is hell/beelzebub actually trying to do good? Is Gabriel planning something bad?)

Also I think Beelzebubs new actress would have absolutely killed it with more screen time.

I would have also loved to see more Muriel. Like way more involved in the story. Them making notes in the background, maybe going in the bookshop to research how people fall in love or talking to Jim about love. It just would have been neat I think. Them trying to understand humanity.

I get that especially with covid, filming was restricted so I am not mad how it ended up. Again I like it. To me it just left some potential behind. Maybe it will be picked up in season 3 or I will consult fanfiction. This is Mr Gaimans version and it is great. If I want to fill some holes (perceived by me), I can.

I am also pretty sure I will like this season a lot more when season 3 comes out and the holes my brain sees are filled. Mid-chapters always have this problem (to me) and I am not going to unreasonably hate it for not being complete like season 1 since that one was made to be an entire shut and closed story. This one was not and it is fine.

To end this on a positive note: the bentley is a great character especially how it appears to be semi sentient and to adapt to its driver. The way it highlights their relationship is honestly perfect.

If I ever had a car, I'd want it even if it was not magical (and probably coming with tones of problems in modern times).

Crowley and Aziraphale were also fantastic and their respective actors killed it (how dare they??). I also loved Nina and Maggie. Seeing Nina's actress range from seaon 1 to seaon 2 was great and I am now official a fan. Maggie as well! Her actress did have much screen time in s1 but her acting stole the show for me in s2. Maggie is such a sweet character. I hope these two characters eventually end up together and have their happily ever after.

The diversity was also perfect. Mr. Gaiman as always manages to encapsulate how beautiful and diverse the world can be. I wanna live in this street now.

[pixeljade]

Look a lot of people are beginning to reblog this again, and a few are again trying to argue against what they *think* i said. I dont have the time nor energy to go one by one, so im going to say a few things, then mute all notifications on this post. Please reblog THIS version so people stop thinking im saying something i'm not. Leave the misinterpretation to Twitter as it dies in Elon's incapable hands, please.

1) I said "solid chunk" but a lot of you are interpreting this as me saying "most". I did not mean it as such. Trying to get a complete figure would be a practice in absurdity, as I doubt anyone but the most learned superhero experts could say theyve read EVERY superhero story.

2) I literally graduated Cum Laude with a degree in Comics and Narrative Practice, and recently too. I know the history of comics, including the highly Jewish origins of superheroes. I also am aware of Watchmen, and X-Men, and basically every other example to the contrary you are thinking of. I appreciate spreading the information as much as anyone, but I didnt make this post with an intent of making a discourse happen, merely a personal observation. So yes, tell people about different sides of the discourse, and relevant histories! But please do not think the nuance is lost on me. I am simply a human who doesnt feel the need to provide nuanced footnotes for every post I make. (Yet you have forced me into it here, by challenging me as though my statement was something meant for you specifically.)

3) I'm actually a fan of a lot of superhero media, believe it or not! I consider Into The Spider-Verse to be one of my top films of all time, and Watchmen is in my top ten graphic novels too. I simply believe in being critical of the things we love, because a pedestal is a good way to lose the plot on our own ideology. In fact, if I care enough to criticize something, it probably means its something very dear to me! Comics are basically my raison d'etre, and that includes those that are superhero stories as well as those that aren't.

4) Regarding the Jewish origins of superheroes, I think it is of note that I actually have been researching Judaism on my own with full intent to convert to Judaism (once time and money permit, it turns out you need to take classes of some kind?), as I find it aligns greatly with my views of the world and of a higher power. Obviously this does not make me Jewish, and certainly not an expert on Judaism...But I think it might help inform you all as to my overall opinion.

5) What I tried to say here as a casual observation is that the very concept of the superhero, regardless of original intent, betrays a certain individualist ideal which is distinctly capitalist. I do not think the originators were aware of this, debate on individualism vs collectivism was present back then, but as with many objects of the zeitgeist, it was seen by many through the lens of our social structures. To them, a superhuman was likely not a direct praise of individualism, but a fantasy which represented what America could be in the burgeoning battles against fascism. In fact, in the case of Captain America, thats explicitly what it is! However, death of the author means we must understand that intents outside those of the creators have impact. It is clear that while many superhero fans love the genre for perfectly reasonable aspects, there's also many who think it represents capitalist, randian, or even fascist ideals. Look at the punisher logos with thin blue lines on cars: do you think they give a fuck that the Punisher would hate their guts? No, they warp the Punisher to represent their ideals. Such is the norm for right-wing people, and refusal to acknowledge it is closing our minds to what is making them grow. They do not give a fuck about truth, they give a fuck about their reactions. Hence why they are reactionary.

6) These right-wing takes on superheroes are inevitable so long as superheroes are written uncritically, and as they have become more mainstream, they have become far more uncritical. Even the best, most critically-written superhero stories are not foolproof regarding this right-wing bastardization. Look at how many dudes worship Rorschach, despite Alan Moore explicitly writing him as an extreme example of Randian ideology. This is because of that fatal flaw that these stories include a core concept which romanticizes hyperindividualism! By the very nature of giving an individual power that is both unique and separates them from others, you have made an individualist fantasy, regardless of intent. I say this with great sorrow, mind you, because I think that the original intent was a noble one, and there's almost no way they could have known what would become of the genre! Heck, people back then could barely conceive of the media empires we now face outside of the most extreme science fiction. But we must admit the flaws if we are ever to take it back.

7) As simply put as I can I think we must reject the essentialization of superhero tropes (and heck, any kind of tropes), and ask ourselves 'why' as endlessly as a child figuring out the world, if we wish to have ANY chance of freeing ourselves from our capitalist shackles. The minute we applaud a crossover cameo appearance of Celebrity B in Series A, we have resigned ourselves not only to the commodification of art, but also to the concept that some people are simply worth more. If we had Professor X played by anyone other than Patrick Stewart* in Multiverse of Madness, would the story be any weaker? Of course not, but we applaud all the same because he has been elevated, turned into an individual we must place above others. This same idea is why they hesitate to recast problematic actors in popular series, as well as why they promote celebrity culture in the first place. It sells us the lie that we might someday be in their shoes, with the adoration of millions, one of the chosen few, if we just continue to slave away providing capital to those who exploit us. All of this is interconnected, because capitalism demands a SYSTEM, one which can shackle anyone into the control of the few. I do not think we need to abolish superheroes, anymore than I think we need to abolish any kind of media (and if you stick around, youll find I'm QUITE anti-censorship)! But I DO think we need to embrace critical thought, and that means fighting the urge to simply say "I like this so it is above critique to me". This applies to all things, even those with wonderful origins like Superheroes.

I hope this clears things up.

* - no shade meant to Patrick Stewart, who is by all acounts a pretty great guy, but I am against putting him on any pedestal. He is ultimately just some guy, and value judgments of people are inherently bullshit. Also yes I know he could also have been played by James McAvoy and there still would be applause because of the latter X-Men movies. My point is that celebrity should not be why we watch anything.

our modern society really needs to start understanding that a solid chunk of superhero media is straight up right wing propaganda. and no i dont just mean in the "MCU has a partnership with the military" way, I mean in the hyper-individualist "Some People Are Just Born Better" way.

[abiiors]

its so fucking bad like. i go home and cry! theyll be all “we appreciate you so much” and then they “forget” to pay me for a week. even after i texted a reminder. there’s not long before this kid is in school and i will be finding a new job. im thinking something night shift no kids

its always been a favoritism thing and the funny thing is. i at 22 know more about babies/toddlers then these two do in their 40s??? like when i started working for them in 21’ they had me logging every single bottle/diaper change which i get your a first time parent (dad had a kid mom didnt) but when you claim “everyone” is using it and then its only me logging shit??? yeah what the fuck ever. i gradually stopped using the app and then when she was like. nine-ten months old her grandma “wasnt doing something right” so they wanted everything logged again. guess what!? it was only me logging shit. so i just stopped.

i got in trouble a few weeks ago for my car battery being dead lol like fuck you want me to do? pull a new car out of my ass??

that is so??? entitled and insane??? istg some people think they own you just because they're paying you to do a job and also i get first time parents often get things wrong but i have seen so many first time parents do so so much research so they won't fuck up with a newborn in the house. it's insane to me that they're leaving such a huge responsibility on you.

[drkcnry67]

Feeling better my darling?

title: feeling better my darling?

Pairing: John Winchester x reader

Spn fluff: breakfast in bed

Tags: none i can think of at this time

created for @spnfluffbingo @sweetness47

summery: not telling

john was hunting the same wolf as you, he had ran into you in the hunters moon bar... he found out you were both hunting the same thing.

he offered to team up with you, you graciously accepted for you didnt know how it would all go if you continued by yourself.

john: so how long have you been hunting?

yn: since i could walk pretty much, i wasnt allowed to fight till i was like 10, but i was raised into this life. i did all the research and everything but i always seem to screw up a hunt when im on my own... which is like all the time.

john: where are your parents now?

you looked down and sighed...

yn: they were killed in action 5 years ago... they were overseas on some sort of top secret family emergency thing... they wouldnt even tell me about it... only that they would return once the job was done. but a month later i was called to the airport saying there was something i had to see. when i got there they were unloading my parents bodies in caskets. i broke down, i tried to hold it together but all i could do was call my aunt, all i could do was sob into the phone.

you felt the tears threatening to spill, but johns finger came up and wiped the tears away, for now the beast was close to your local, this was no time to loose your cool.

john: lets get this done and whatever you do, dont do anything reckless.

yn: sometimes wreckless is the only way to get the hunt done, thats what i was taught... its what my parents instilled into me.

john: lets do this together and be careful as we possibly can.

You and John crept right into the camp, but saw nothing, neither of you were fully aware that while you were stalking the werewolf, it was stalking you...

John and you stopped dead in your tracks cause you both heard a growl behind you.

John: don't move baby girl.

Yn: I couldn't even if I wanted too, my foot is caught in a trap....

John's eyes looked down slightly to see your foot in a bear trap...

John: hold tight baby girl...

There it was again your ears heard those words again... was he trying to confess his feelings subtly and yet obvious at the same time...

John turned around and lit the werewolf on fire throwing a can of hairspray in the campfire... sure it leveled a few trees but it was worth it.

John: alright baby girl, now that one is dead the rest of them can't be too far we gotta get out of here...

Yn: are you calling me baby girl cause its fun or cause your in love with me...

John's eyes met with your own, it was the first time someone had been straight to the point blunt with him since Mary...

John: cause I'm in love with you... I feel like I've been given a second chance at love...

Yn: well lets deal with getting my foot out of this trap and then we will discuss this further...

John puts his bag on the ground and uses a variety of tools to dismember the trap... he then takes off his shirt and wraps your very swollen and bloody foot in it... he then piggy backs you as he carries you back to the car.

John: we need to get out of here...

Yn: I haven't anyplace to stay yet, I was just planning on heading to my aunts after this...

John looks at you once he stops at the highway...

John: who's your aunt?

Yn: Ellen harvelle...

John laughs and holds your hand the entire drive...

John: I know her well, her husband and I used to hunt together all the time. So I guess her daughter and you hunt sometimes.

Yn: ya when aunt Ellen lets her, most times she keeps jo at home... but I dunno how she's gonna be with me bringing you home...

John: it's been at least 10 years since I last saw Ellen... I hope she isn't still harboring a grudge...

Within a few hours you felt weak from the blood loss, but you passed out just as John pulled into the roadhouse, got out of the car, scooped you into his arms, and carried you inside.

John: Ellen, please help me...

Ellen and jo come out from behind the kitchen, while ash comes off of the pool table all stunned to see John and an unconscious you.

Ellen: jo grab the first aid kit and a clean pair of clothes for YN. Ash lock the door and prepare the upstairs room...

Ellen comes to help John bring the bags and stuff upstairs considering John was already carrying you he was doing pretty well.

Ellen: John come speak with me a moment... ash make sure the bar is clean before you continue whatever you were doing. Jo get yn into something dry and clean her wound.

John though hesitant To leave yn Alone he went outside the room with Ellen to speak about what had transpired that evening.

John: It's been a long time

Ellen: Indeed Now What happened to my niece?

John: Ellen you cannot argue with fate

Ellen then realizes what John is saying and slaps him cross the cheek

Ellen: John winchester what the fuck is wrong with you don't you have a conciance

John: yes but I feel like She is my second chance at a happy life. besides you can't argue with the fates or Whoever makes up the rules.

Ellen: John If this is truly what you both wish then your way besides the girl deserves to be happy.

John just smiled he knew that one chance at happy for hunters was better then none!

Ellen: I suppose you wanna stay with her

John: If I have your permission to do so, with discretion of course.

Ellen: meh, we are all family here... besides your boys were right about one thing...

John: you saw my boys...

Ellen: ya and they are looking for you... now I would scold you for not speaking to your boys if I couldn't tell that you were anxious to get back to yn!

Ellen moved so John could go back to your room, John switched Places with Jo who left the room closing the door behind her.

Jo: yn is gonna be fine, we need to finish calming down and closing up for the night.

Ellen knew her smart daughter was right but she also still kinda worried about you. Inside the room, you lay in bed your leg bandaged and propped up with pillows.

Your soft snores filled the room as John slept by your bedside the entire night, in a chair his head on the bed, he was determined to make this confession to you as smooth and romantic as possible.

It was 8 and a half almost 9 hours later when John woke to a small knock at the door, he went over and opened it to see Jo carrying a tray of food and drinks and flowers.

Jo: is she still asleep.

John: for now... did you guys do this for us?

Jo: that's how we harvelles do our business. Tell yn she is very lucky to have a man like you.

With that last word jo handed the tray to john and left pulling the door shut... john turned to see you stiring..

You sat up to see John standing at the door holding a tray of food drink and flowers.

John: morning...

Yn: good morning, I guess I owe you my thanks...

John: it is I who should thank you for the most exciting night last night.. it was the most fun I've had in years.

Yn: I hope we can speak Freely, I kinda have a confession to make.

John places the tray on the bed and sits down in the chair beside the bed to allow you to continue to speak

Yn: It was no coincidence that we ended up on that hunt together, Ellen had received word from another hunter that you were spotted headed that way. I'll admit I'd heard tales of the great John winchester who hunts anything and everything he has to to keep his family safe. And I'll also admit I fell for you as soon as I spotted you in the bar, yes I saw you before you saw me... I just didn't know how to tell you or when to tell you. But your my chance at happiness John, I feel it in my soul and in my heart. Also we worked well together...

Before you could Say anything John moves the tray of food and leans over to place a kiss to your lips before he speaks

John: whew that's a relief, who knew that you would be my second chance. Now as your new boyfriend I don't have to be strict and ban you from hunting till your completely healed do I?

Yn: as long as I'm with you I'm fine with whatever. Plus breakfast looks and smells incredible.

John laughs and strokes the back of your hand.

John: ya confession time Ellen and jo made breakfast jo delivered it... I can't cook worth a damn right now.

Yn: ya I kinda figured jo and Ellen had a hand in this.. it's the roadhouse special. It's amazing but it's even better cold. Come on out of that chair and on to the bed with me we shouldn't be as astranged as we were yesterday.

John took off his sweater and shoes and Crawled in on your other side. His arms enveloped you and soon you fell asleep again. It was the beginning of the rest of your life and the beginning of your happily ever after!

[pyresys]

i dont know why everyone who has come to disagree with my post automatically assumes it meant i didnt want simon and betty to break up

im fine with that decision. i think its one of the logical outcomes to their situation. however the way it was handled was poor and not only a disservice to simon's character, but MAJORLY a disservice to betty.

"If anything, the show finally gave Betty closure. She realized how the self-sacrificing behaviour on her part and blindness to that on Simons part was holding back their relationship from being a truly healthy one."

the show does not give us betty's perspective at all. i expected to either have some sort of flashback that showed betty's perspective of simon's rose-tinted recollection of the beginning of their relationship or some other flashback or memories. that or for them to just have a one on one conversation via some method like them talking in the bus scene so that we could learn ANYTHING about how betty has been doing, how she came to the conclusion she's ready to move on, etc. we get none of that. instead we get a heavy-handed metaphor for simon and betty's relationship via casper and nova THAT DOES NOT FIT THE STORY OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP AS WE KNOW IT THUS FAR.

in the original adventure time, simon is not shown to be selfish. in fact his problem is quite the opposite, being self-sacrificing to the point of it being harmful. he often puts the feelings of others before his own. this is even shown when he calls marceline in fionna and cake, but decides he doesn't want to burden her with his problems now that she's grown and living her own life. and then again, simon is shown IN FIONNA AND CAKE to value not only betty's contributions, but also her decisions when he asks her to come share the discovery of the enchiridion, to which she insists it's his discovery and he respects her decision not to join him. its the same thing with her research trip. he was not invited, he isnt prepared to go on it, and betty is the one who DECIDES TO NOT GO TO BE WITH SIMON. at no point does he force her to stay.

if simon were to insist, force betty to get out of the car. force her in adventure time to not try and cure him and instead let him die or stay ice king forever, the casper and nova metaphor would have actually made sense. but as it stands, EVEN WITHIN EVENTS ESTABLISHED WITHIN FIONNA AND CAKE'S CANON, it is not the narrative of simon.

not to mention they just break up and simon seems to instantaneously get better, which is so incredibly out of character and not aligned with how he's acted in the series so far. if he were to know that betty was in a better place OR if we were to see him being supported by his friends and family, like finn and marcy, and not JUST be receiving therapy, it wouldn't be so disappointing. hell the show sets up a BEAUTIFUL plot thread for simon to seek comfort in marcy, to realize he is allowed to lean on her for support as she did him when she was young. but they just leave that completely unaddressed.

truly i think it can be boiled down to: they ended it in the most steven universe lack of nuance way that completely changes and simplifies the problems within simon and betty's relationship, to the point where it no longer matches the actual narrative of co-dependence that started their story

this post and this post sum up my thoughts on the matter much more than i can in a somewhat reasonable length

i havent even seen the ending yet but to say it was fulfilling is so unfair to betty. she was once again brushed aside and has basically no agency in her own fucking story. i wanna hear her get angry. i want her and simon to have a heartfelt talk about their problems. SHE DOESNT EVEN BRING UP HIM TRYING TO PUT THE FUCKING CROWN ON AGAIN. like what a way to shit on what could have been an awesome story. i gave them way too much credit in hoping it would be an intelligent ending about how youre able to talk through your problems in a relationship and come out better for it but. nope.

[atlabeth]

10 things i hate about you part 4 - jj maybank x fem!reader

PART 3 | MASTERLIST | PART 5

a/n: damn i really cant put things out on a decent schedule huh? im so sorry this is coming out 3 weeks later lol hope it doesnt suck

warning(s): some very vague photography talk bc i didnt feel like doing hella research, y/n is an asshole, topper is an asshole, y/n hates jj some more but also doesnt, everyone has a fuuuun time

wc: 3.5k

“So, how is it going with the shrew?” Pope took a couple water bottles and a beer can out of the fridge, tossing the extra waters to John B and Kie and the can to JJ. “Is it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

JJ frowned as he caught the can and cracked it open. “The hell’s a shrew?”

Pope stopped in the middle of the room and stared at him. “Y’know, ‘The Taming of the Shrew’?” He was met with a blank look. “It’s Shakespeare, she’s like the shrew— you know what, nevermind. What’s it like trying to get with Sarah Cameron’s sister?”

“I would also like to know,” John B spoke up as he propped his feet up against the table. “I have another tutor session with Sarah tomorrow before school, and I gotta know how my chances are looking.”

Kiara snorted. “Ten dollars that she still hates him and nothing is ever going to happen.”

“Ever the pessimist, Kie,” JJ sighed with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know that things are actually going pretty well! I hung out with her last Friday and watched as she keyed Topper’s car, then I got her number. I don’t know why everyone’s so scared of her — she’s not that bad.”

“That’s why people are scared of her,” Pope said. “Because she keyed the car of one of the richest guys on this island with no fear of repercussions.”

“She’s one of the richest girls on the island,” John B defended. “If she’s taking down kooks, that means we don’t have to.” He then looked back to JJ, eyes almost sparkling with hope. “So? Did you get a date with her?”

JJ pursed his lips. “That would still be a no.”

John B groaned as Pope and Kiara exchanged unsurprised looks. “Does anyone wanna give me my ten dollars?” she asked with a self-satisfied smile.

“Shut up, Kie.” John B sat up, now fully concentrated on the matter at hand. “What did you do with her? Did you even ask her out?”

“Of course I asked her out, man! I’ve asked out like, three times now.” JJ rolled his eyes and took a swig from his can. “She’s said no every time. I guess she’s not into surfing.”

“Surfing?” Pope couldn’t help his own bewildered laugh. “Man, do you even know her?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you knew her,” JJ retorted. “Please, Almighty Heyward, do tell.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know her know her, but she’s in the running for valedictorian — smart people at this school are at least aware of each other. So trust me when I say she’s not a surfer bro like you. If you want her to tolerate you, then your best bet is getting into photography.”

“Photography?” JJ ran a hand through his hair and let himself fall back into the sofa. “I mean, she was taking pictures on the track the first time I talked to her. But are you sure that there isn’t anything else she’s really into? I don’t know shit about pictures.”

John B sighed. “I can always ask Sarah what she knows about her. I’m pretty sure she’ll help us with whatever if it means she gets a free pass to date.”

Kiara grinned at JJ. “Better start saving up for a camera, J.”

~~~~~~~~

johnny boy: i am very sorry to report that photography’s your best bet

johnny boy: sarah told me that it’s her number one thing, unless you’re looking to get into feminist literature

johnny boy: also you need to stop smoking. she hates it

goddamn

idk how im gonna handle this whole shitshow without weed lmao

you’re lucky that i like you so much and that topper is paying me a lot because this is really pushing it

johnny boy: i know and i will never stop thanking you

looks like i’m off to bullshit my way into her photo class!

And bullshit he did.

His guidance counselor was so desperate for him to get any kind of boost to his GPA that when he brought up the idea of adding a class to his already lacking schedule, he swore that she could’ve cried.

And that was how JJ found himself searching up how to take pictures and how to sound smart about photography on his phone ten minutes before the class began, leaning up against his locker with a determination not often seen in relation to school.

It was also how he found himself in another unwanted confrontation with Topper Thornton. JJ was unable to hold back an eye roll when he saw the kook walking towards him, and he was 99% sure he knew what this conversation was going to be about.

“Hey, asshole. You got anything to say about what happened last Friday, or do you just wanna start with paying me back for what happened to my car?”

Knew it. JJ glared at him. “Look, it wasn’t my fault. You’ve told me how horrible she is, so shouldn’t you have been expecting something like this? I mean, you’re the one that provoked her.”

Topper’s lip curled upwards. “You really got a thing for pushing your limits, huh, pogue? I’m paying you to take this girl out, not fuck up everything in the process.”

“Do you want to get with Sarah or not?” Topper kept his sharp gaze on JJ, but he didn’t back down. “You said it yourself — I’m the only one that can deal with her. So back the fuck off, and let me do my thing.”

“You’re this close, okay?” Topper held his pointer finger and his thumb so close together they were almost touching. “You’re this close to making me throw this whole thing out the window just so I can fuck you over.”

“Ooh.” JJ grimaced and shook his head. “Sarah doesn’t like violent guys, Top. I doubt she’d like you any more if you start beating up on poor, innocent pogues.”

Dealing with Topper Thornton was almost made worth it by seeing how angry JJ could make him, and this time he got his reward in the form of a clenched jaw and a glare surrounded in daggers. “I wanna see results soon, Maybank. My patience is really wearing thin with you.”

“Trust me. I want to be done with this as soon as possible too — dealing with you is exhausting.”

Topper huffed and walked off, causing JJ to chuckle at the abrupt end to their lovely conversation. It was too easy.

~~~~~~~~

The first thing you spotted when you walked into your classroom was the shock of blonde hair growing ever the more familiar. But along with the blue eyes came the usual downwards twist of your lips, and you purposely walked past him as you shrugged off your bag.

“Damn, Cameron,” JJ called as you went past. “You’re really gonna ignore me after all we went through together?”

“We didn’t go through anything together,” you responded curtly. You then took a seat and turned to him. “Now, what the hell are you doing here? I don’t know much about you, but I do know that JJ Maybank is not a photographer.”

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Needed an extra class, wanted some extra appreciation for the arts. Not everything’s about you, Cameron.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the front as your teacher walked in, already beginning her daily tirade.

“Welcome back, everybody. I trust that you all had a good weekend?” Ms. Newman pushed the door shut and made her way through the room before taking a seat on the edge of her own desk. “Anyone wanna share?”

Nobody in the class raised their hand, and she sighed. “Okay, that’s about what I expected. I guess we’ll start with introducing our new students — JJ Maybank and Alicia Hawthorne.” She gestured to where JJ sat and then towards a dark-haired girl in the back. “They’re both new to this class, but I know that you’re both going to have a great time here.”

“A hundred percent,” JJ said, causing you to scoff when he gave a thumbs up that was just a little too eager. He responded by turning towards you and holding his pointer finger over his mouth in a ‘sh’ motion, and you just shook your head and crossed your arms. This kid was truly unbearable.

Ms. Newman chuckled and clapped her hands together as she moved over to her laptop, addressing the class once more after opening it. “Glad to hear that, JJ, because we’re starting off today strong. Those of you that have been in my class before know that I like doing three big projects, one at the beginning, middle, and end of the year — it’s the best way to see your progression as artists, and two of them technically count as your midterm and your final. Two birds with one stone.”

You sighed and leaned your head against your hand, already used to this lecture. You’ve had the good luck of being with Ms. Newman since your freshman year — by now, you could probably recite her project speech by heart.

“Our first project for this year is something a bit different from past years in that it’s going to take a bit longer than usual.” She taps the touchpad a couple of times and her screen is showing on the projector, showing a Google Doc with a whole list of instructions that you can’t force yourself to read. You might like photography, but the only reason you’re in this class is because it’s a requirement for yearbook. It’s stupidly easy, and you know that you’ll be able to handle whatever this project involves with your eyes closed and get an A doing it.

“A good portion of you are seniors, and I know that most of you probably want to get out of here as soon as you can. But high school is something that you’re going to miss once you leave, and you don’t want to move so fast that you don’t focus on any of it. The idea of this project is to make you slow down, to appreciate every day that passes while you’re still in the high school bubble.”

You rolled your eyes. The sooner you were off this island and 2000 miles away, the better.

“So your assignment for this first project is simple, but I hope it makes you think a little bit. Every day, starting today and ending on the first day of next month, you’ll take a picture. It can be of whatever you want, any part of your life, there just has to be a picture for every day of the month. At the end, you’ll put all your pictures together and present it, connecting it with an overarching story. It can be about what those pictures mean to you, what you were going through during that month — you can do anything you want, as long as it connects to you.”

You barely tip your head up as you look around the room, trying to gauge the reactions of the class. Most of them look annoyed, some of them look like they’re about to fall asleep, and JJ is looking at you. You give him your best glare then turn your attention back to the board.

“I recognize that a lot of you are busy with other classes, so I’m going to give the rest of the class to think up ideas and maybe get started with your planning. I’ll leave this up for reference, and feel free to ask any questions if you have them.” She smiles at the class, an expression that is not shared, and nods. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!”

You were in the middle of taking out a notebook and a pencil to get started on some ideas when you hear Ms. Newman say your name, and your head perks up. “Could you come over here for just a moment? Oh, and you too, JJ.”

“...Sure.” You didn’t really have a choice, but any situation with you and JJ was enough to make you wary. You set your pencil on the table then walked over to her desk, JJ joining you a second later.

“As I’m sure you know, JJ is new to this class. We don’t exactly have enough funding at this school for the arts to have more than one level, so that means beginners and more advanced students have to work together in the same class.” Ms. Newman clasped her hands together and offered the two of you a slight smile. “I don’t mean any offense, but she is a lot more experienced than you, JJ. And because this project is a long-term one, I thought that it would be nice for the two of you to work together. You can sort of teach JJ the ropes of using a camera, make sure that he’s actually doing the right thing.”

It was a physical effort to keep your jaw off the ground, but you weren’t able to stop your eyes from widening. In your peripherals, you could see JJ grinning. “I think that’s a great idea, teach.”

“I, um— I don’t?” You placed your hands on the table and chuckled mirthlessly. “Full offense, but I have so many better things that I could do than teach him how to do something in a class he signed up for.”

“Watch your mouth,” Ms. Newman said with a pointed look at you. “You’re one of my most talented students, and that kind of talent could be used to help others find their passion instead of stewing in your own bitterness. JJ is someone that wants to learn, and you’re someone that can help him.”

You continued with your deadpan expression and she sighed once again. “If you do this for me, then I will give you a glowing recommendation for college.”

“I’ve already been accepted to UCLA,” you responded dryly.

“I’ll give you extra credit on this project.”

“I don’t need it.”

And for the first time in you think your entire high school career, Ms. Newman actually looks annoyed. “...I’ll lend you the good camera for the whole year.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “The Canon R5?”

Ms. Newman nodded, allowing a small smile at what she saw as a success.

With a huff of your own, you finally conceded. “Fine. I’ll do it. But bribery won’t work on me for anything else, okay?”

JJ held out his hand with another grin. “Looking forward to working with you, partner.”

With a roll of your eyes and an indignant scoff, you walked back to your seat. JJ shrugged and looked at Ms. Newman. “For the record, I think this is going to go great.”

~~~~~~~~

“Hey— can you slow down?”

You don’t even cast a glance behind you at the sound of JJ’s voice, and after a second he’s keeping pace with you through the hallways. The lingering threat of a partnership with JJ Maybank had been hanging over your head since you sat back down after the conversation, and you’re pretty sure the only reason JJ didn’t try to talk to you afterwards was because he didn’t want to cause a scene.

But now the day was over, and you weren’t as fortunate.

“What do you want?” you asked, making no effort to shield your annoyance.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what I want,” he responded. “We’re partners for this project, whether you like it or not. And since I have no idea how to use a camera, and you’re basically an expert…” JJ held up the camera already strapped around his neck, and you recognized it as one of the starters provided by the school for photography students. “Come on. You can spare an hour or two on a nature path or something, right?”

“I could, but I don’t necessarily want to.”

JJ sighed and he held his arm out in front of you, effectively stopping you in place but also earning him a sharp glare. “Come on, Cameron. What happened to all that soul-searching and deep talking on Friday? Do you really hate me that much?”

You continue to hold his gaze for precisely fifteen more seconds before you crack. “Fine,” you say pointedly. “But because I’m doing this for free, you’re going to get the barest basics that there are.”

You can see the tension in JJ’s shoulders dissolve and he grins. “You don’t hate me! I knew it” He claps you on the back and starts forward before stopping and turning partially towards you. “But uh— you should probably lead the way.”

The amount of times you’ve rolled your eyes around JJ Maybank has got to be unhealthy, but you do it once more as you start to walk again. “Don’t push your limits.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Are you gonna at least tell me where we’re going?”

You cast a small glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Keep up and you’ll see.”

You spend the ten minutes that it takes to walk down to the track then over towards the woods to explain the bare basics you’re willing to give him, and to JJ’s credit, you think that he actually listens. Once you arrive at your destination, you spread your arms out to gesture at the woods around you.

“Welcome to the road barely off the beaten path,” you announce, twirling in a small circle as JJ stands a few feet behind you. “Cross country uses this for practice all the time, but the trees provide some decent lighting for some decent pictures.” You look right at him and give him a sarcastic smile. “Perfect for a decent guy.”

He returns your expression with a genuine smile and touches his hand to his heart. “I’m honored that you think so highly of me, Cameron. Now—” You’ve never been so scared for a camera as you are when JJ holds it up to his eye, and you’re more thankful for neck straps than ever. “—you wanna pose and be my first picture for this project?”

And that destroys any magic that had been created by his ever so slight interest in photography, and you answer his question with a glare. He responds by snapping a picture, and you roll your eyes and turn away.

“Perfect.” He grins and holds the camera up so you can see, but you barely even bother as you stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket. JJ sighs and puts the camera down so it’s hanging from his neck again, and he takes a few quick paces to catch up to you. “Are you like this with every person who tries to be nice to you?”

“Just the ones that annoy me.”

“Oh,” he nods. “So literally everyone annoys you.”

“Just about,” you agree. By now the two of you are walking down the path, JJ trailing slightly behind you as he badgers you with questions.

“Well, I don’t know if you could tell by the whole ‘asking you out and trying to get to know you’ thing, but I don’t want to be one of those people.” You stop in place as you turn on your heel and face him, crossing your arms in the process.

“Really?” you ask, slightly bemused.

“Yeah, really.” JJ runs his hand through his hair and shrugs. “I don’t know what it’s gonna take to get off of the list of people you hate, but I’m gonna try my hardest. Because you’re worth it, Cameron. I know that for a fact.”

That leaves you stunned. You’re not even able to think up some kind of witty retort as he starts walking away, and right before the path turns he faces you again. “Same place, same thing, tomorrow after school?”

It takes you a second, but you nod. “I guess.”

JJ smiles and nods as well, taking a few steps backwards as he maintains eye contact with you. “Cool. I’ll see you then, Cameron.”

You’re not even sure how long you stand there like an idiot, just trying to process what happened. By the time that you’re walking back to the school, you’re only really sure of one thing.

JJ Maybank is not who you thought he was. And maybe that’s a good thing.

~~~~~~~~

weird blonde kid: btw my friends and i are throwing a kegger at the boneyard on friday and it’s gonna be huge

weird blonde kid: you should definitely go with me

weird blonde kid: you’ll get so much street cred

you really don’t give up, do you?

i don’t need street cred

weird blonde kid: already told you that you’re worth it

weird blonde kid: i'm in it for the long game baby

weird blonde kid: so is that a yes?

no

weird blonde kid: then is is it a nooooo

no

weird blonde kid: i’ll see you at 9:30 then 😛

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz

obx: @pogueslandia

ttihay: @maybankbby @gabiatthedisco @the-romanian-is-bae @obx-pogues-4-life @oliviajaegerswhore @chaoticjjmaybank @its-simply-fanfiction @80strashbag @sinnerluh @shephard17895 @onlyangel-444 @silverbyeol @miniiminie

[thestarsanctuary]

hi! I was hoping you could do a Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki and Kirishima (separate) with an s/o that has Tourettes, preferably they/them pronouns please. I hope you're having a good day <3

Of course! I was gonna take a break in the middle of my (unspoken) break aka me being lazy, but this request was so nice I- I had to 😔✋🏾 it was definitely the heart. It got me.

MHA BOYS WITH AN S/O THAT HAS TOURETTES

TW FOR ODD LOOKS AND STARES/BULLYING(ISH)

BAKUGO

Bakugo wasn’t really sure when he first met you about why your head was twitching or why you were repeating the sentences Aizawa had said sometimes, as he didn’t know you had tourettes. He never even spoke to you like the others did so you never had the chance to tell him until Kirishima did.

When you two started dating he started seeing patterns of when you would get to stressed and start jerking or spouting out random things you heard from youtube videos, he did his best to make sure you knew he was there for reassurance, whether it was a hand on your hand or just pure presence.

There were times when you would have ticcing fits and he would have to sit and rub your back and watch you, and in those times you realized he really was there for you.

He likes to do this thing where he rants on about things he doesn’t like to try and distract you- I’m not sure how he has so much he doesn’t like but every time it’s a new odd topic....sometimes it can literally be something like how he hates trees because when it’s fall he has to rake up the leaves and you have to say

“Bakugo they literally help you not die.” It really is a mystery sometimes how he’s so smart.

Sometimes you can be a bit upset with your tics. It’s not that you’re insecure or that you’re ashamed, but they’re difficult to deal with. The control that you could have isn’t there and that’s stressful in and of itself, and in those moments Bakugo realizes the best thing he can do for you - is make you understand that you are just like the rest of the class and the rest of the people in the world.

“Listen it doesn’t matter if you’re different because to me you’re still cool, you’re still funny, you’re still incredibly sarcastic and while I don’t enjoy that for the most part- you’re my extra regardless of whatever you feel. Get that bull out of your head.”

I mean, he wouldn’t date anybody less than the best.

MIDORIYA

Midoriya is the predictable character in the relationship. He researched about Tourettes and what he could do in times when you needed him, I mean he’s not perfect but he’d rather know something rather than nothing.

You tended to be the one who was more of a risk taker, and sometimes your tourettes got in the way of that- which could frustrate you to no end then causing harsher tics like hitting or yelling, and those were the times Midoriya tried to get anything too dangerous either out of your hands- or just out of the way so you didn’t get hurt, he was smart with it.

Other times he could be too much for you, almost treating you like a kid so you had to remind him that you know and understand precautions, but that you also want to live like everybody else and that is nothing short of your business.

You’re favorite activity with him was when he would help you study because he made it so fun for you. It could be hard to pay attention in class sometimes and do your work after school so Izuku would come over and assist you. He would make sure you guys took breaks and that you understood the topic at your own pace.

“Izuku can you like- give an example?”

“Well it’s just kind of- wait what is an example-“

In many situations Midoriya LOVED holding your hand, like he did it at any time, any place. It was something he thought wasn’t too much in public and it was reassuring for you both. When you’re tics got too much you could squeeze his hand, and other times when he wouls get anxious or something would happen he would squeeze yours. It was cute and handy!

There were instances when Midoriya definitely had his mistakes with your tics and how to deal with them but he was willing to take his time and learn because who would he be without his perfect person stayin’ by his side?

KIRISHIMA

Kirishima is probably the most sympathetic with your tics because he stay prepared for them. It’s never been like “Kirishima can you” but it’s always been more like ‘Kiri how do you always know’ and there’s never been an answer that he gave other than ‘I gotta stay ready for my lovely lover~’

Kirishima likes to do this thing where he goes “neck” after you have a rough day with your tics and with massage your neck for you or your back, depending on how your tics were. He likes takin’ care of you, and it’s not like he doesn’t know you can’t take care of yourself because hey, you didn’t get into 1-A by being a pushover.

Sometimes you’ve had times when people in school just aren’t all that accepting and Kirishima will clap back unprovoked.

“Sometimes I think about how sad you have to be to make fun of them and dang man, you got a therapist?”

Other times you’ll basically respond for him, like I said, you can DEFINITELY take care of yourself.

Whenever you’re in the car or on the bus on a trip in the case that you’ve gotten real excited (which is natural being around your boyfriends and your friends at the same time) he’ll play this playlist he made of your favorite songs and sing to distract you. Does he sing well? That wasn’t the question- but he does sing, only for you though because the other students keep dissing him.

He has a reflex of rubbing your back during free period or at lunch. I don’t think this is relevant but it’s something super adorable, and sometimes he just gives you his hand to look at and play with when you have anxiety as well to keep you calm.

Also irrelevant but other times he’ll facetime you before you guys go somewhere and ask what to wear because he wants to match with you, and it’s so cute because you could lie so hard and he’d believe everything you say.

You two are kinda a power couple like- you both can hold your own but also are such nice people, good job makin’ the rest of 1-A feel lonely guys.

TODOROKI

Todoroki is a simple guy. He doesn’t want to overcomplicate things for the most part because “why would I act like your guardian, if I’m literally your boyfriend” and that’s that.

He tends to try and keep you calm, as it’s something pretty simple for him, he knows a bunch of tactics for distractions or when those are obsolete, he’ll just sit there with you, and maybe rub your back or get a water bottle for when it’s done, he just never wants to do too much because he knows your capabilities, and he knows your limits.

He is also a large hand holder. Mostly because he doesn’t like the idea of PDA for the most part, and he doesn’t like leaving your side either, because you’re very comforting to him. It’s a given we all know he needs love and comfort please.

There have been times when people look at your because of your tics in public and Todoroki has had to give a little glare back because of the disrespect being blatantly put out. In rarer times you will both glare at the same time, those are the coolest moments of you as a couple.

Shoto doesn’t really care much for your tics only because he’d rather just make sure you’re ok then watch Avengers rather than treat you like a child if anything, and that’s because you told him first that you wanted a boyfriend not a babysitter (speakin’ facts) and at first he didn’t understand and he thought you didn’t want his help but soon understood otherwise.

Some cute things I like to think of are that he likes to put on your favorite songs when you’re anxious and try to dance for you. It’s not good- let’s start with that, because he’s kinda...stiff, but the attempt is absolutely adorable (and oh so funny).

Other things are he likes to call you cheesy nicknames when you’re cuddling because he likes your reactions everytime, because according to him, yeah he said it himself, you are very adorable when annoyed. Don’t @ me!

Overall he just loves spending time with you whenever he can, you’re truly a safe-haven for him.

EL FIN

-

Alright tourettes is a real thing y’all, so I didnt make this rainbows n cupcakes bc im sure that’s not always how it is.

If anything in this is offensive or too much for somebody I can take it down and re-do it! I’m not too sure how it is bc it feels kinda repetitive but we’ll see I guess, and thanks to the person who requested my day was fine thanks 😩✋🏾.

I also included some things I like to do (play with hands and listen to music) because i have anxiety and I known that can worsen tics and can also come with tics (a lot of ppl with tics have adhd, anxiety, or some sort of disorder along with it)

- SS <333333

[blxetsi]

Hi! Can I please request modern au hcs for Armin?

tysm for requesting !!

modern armin arlert dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!armin arlert x gn!reader

- okay so

- i think in a college setting you and armin hit it off really well

- i think you guys wouldve just accidentally kept bumping into each other, whether it be around campus, at some coffee shop, in the library

- it gets so frequent you dont even know if its a coincidence at this point, yet you cant help but hope that you seem him whenever you go out

- after ALWAYS bumping into each other and apologizing before making small talk, armin makes the first move

- mf just says "are you following me ?" to which you reply "are YOU following me ?"

- that night ends in you two exchanging numbers 🤩

- you find out that hes a humanities major, and wants to be a psychologist some day

- you also find out he has a paid internship at a research facility near the university you attend

- hes super sweet but also super humble, so he tries not to keep the subject on himself for very long, just wanting to know more about you

- as you two get closer he gets more touchy (not in a weird way)

- he starts greeting you with hugs now, and likes to have a light grip on your wrist when hes leading you through crowded hallways of the school

- he introduced you to his bestfriends and roommates, mikasa and eren, and they were really accepting !! (they already could tell armin liked you even if he didnt know himself)

- you start developing feelings for him about two months after you exchanged numbers, and you honestly felt really weird

- because this beautiful boy whos so sweet and kind and intelligent is like,, wayyyy out of your league

- armin thinks the exact same thing

- he thinks youre so cool and fun to be around, you always have the best stories to tell and are so welcoming,, its HARD not to fall for someone like you !!

- finally he gets up the courage to ask if you can come to his apartment

- and there he confesses 😳💥‼️

- you sit there shocked for a couple seconds too long because now hes freaking out like "im so sorry i didnt wanna seem creepy i just wanted to tell you how i felt you can leave or i can walk you home- wait you probably wouldnt want that but-"

- you just kind of grab his shoulders and start shaking him. before you tell him you like him too.

- the apples of his cheeks turn pink before he smiles and gives you such a tight hug !!

- hes immediately planning a date with you for when youre both free

- takes you to the local aquarium 🤩 and kisses you in front of the moon jellies (u know those big tanks with the jellyfish that are like glow in the dark ?? and the whole hallway is pitch black except for the lights from the tank ?? yeah ❤️ he kissed you THERE and it was beautiful)

- has chapped lips 😐 sorry i dont make the rules

- has a habit of picking them when hes working or lost in thought

- doesnt mean you stop kissing him tho

- is the kind of guy that will genuinely get worried if you send an "sos" type message. gets out of his own class just to speedwalk (he isnt gonna break the rules and run in the halls 🙄) and come to your class just to see if youre okay

- looks at you like 😐 when you explain you just need him to get you an iced coffee from that shitty coffee place in the cafeteria

- does it anyway even though hes annoyed 😌✨

- will grumble about paying him back for the five dollars he just spent on you while you kiss him over and over again in thanks

- doesnt let you pay him back though smh 🙄

- loves to give back hugs

- will do it while youre working, or while youre doing the dishes

- if youre shorter than him he'll rest his head on your and just smell your hair

- if youre taller than him hes shoving his face inbetween your shoulder blades

- is such a lightweight drunk its not even funny

- none of his friends are tbh 🙄

- the first time you saw him drunk was when eren dragged you guys out to a party their friend was hosting (literally interrupted your cuddle time in armins bed to THROW OFF THE BLANKETS and say "you guys are coming with me 😁👍" and when you two said no he TURNED ON THE LIGHTS and ruined the vibe 😐 fucking asshole)

- anyways you two had to change back into your clothes at 9pm just to go to a shitty party that was gonna get busted by the cops anyways 😔💔

- you couldnt find him through the sea of people, and u got really worried until armin called you

- it was not armin on the other line 😁👍

- he said his name was reiner ?? and he said he was with armin bc he puked while playing beer pong

- the guy tells you where they are and you go to find them. theyre sitting on this couch in a backroom and theres only like,, five people in total there ??

- armin is SOBBING while reiner is trying to get him to drink water

- "reiner you dont get it,,, theyre so beautiful. i cant compete. i dont even think theyd wanna be with me. and you have to see them talk about their major. theyre so smart you dont understand." "okay buddy lets just finish this water okay ?"

- armin is leaning his shoulder on this GIANT of a man just going on about how much he loves you and how amazing he finds you. until you tap his shoulder. and then he realizes youve been listening this entire time. and then he starts crying because he doesnt want you to find him weird. and then you have to explain to him that you two are dating. where he doesnt believe you still.

- eren ends up giving you the keys to his car and saying "ill just call you when i need a ride back" and reiner CARRIES armin to the car 😭😭😭

- hes a real gentleman 😁👍

- that morning armin remembers EVERYTHING and is MORTIFIED

- calls reiner immediately like "did people see me puke ? oh god am i gonna be talked about ?"

- has very vivid dreams and remembers all of them ?? will literally tell you about a dream he had when he was five and WILL NOT forget a detail. its weird

- his family actually doesnt seem like they like you 😳 not because they dont theyre just very,, quiet people...... except for his grandfather

- doesnt even care who you are to armin, will pull you down on the couch with him to tell you about all his research and findings as an archeologist (before he retired)

- if youre ever feeling sad about anything, whether that be stress, family problems, or body image issues, armins taking you to his place 😁👍

- he'll cuddle you and whisper how much he loves you while you two are watching something on his laptop

- has acne scars on his shoulders. dont make fun of him for it pls

- loves getting back scratches though, the tingles make him feel really calm

- if you have like,, makeup brushes and stuff he likes it when you brush his face with them, no product or anything but the tingles he gets from it 🤤

- over time his parents warm up to you quiet a bit, and when his mom shows you baby photos and from him as a kid youre SHOCKED.

- he had this little bob cut from when he was ten to his teens 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- when you two are walking back home or wherever you cant help but go on about how cute he was and how healthy and pretty his hair looked (not that its not healthy or pretty now) and he just giggles before pulling you into his side and kissing your cheek while saying "okay baby, ill grow it out just for you then"

- also loves the petnames baby, angel, and love

- will gladly let you steal his sweaters. has a really nice knit one that his grandma made him before she died. that ones off limits.

- doesnt like to fight, but when he feels like hes in the right he wont hesitate to yell back when youre yelling at him

- just dont yell at him pls, it makes him sad

- it takes him a while (and by a while i mean like 30 minutes at most) before his texting you asking if you guys can talk about it

- its really easy for you two to make up, and immediately hes hugging you and just asking if you wanna do something with him

- also, cuts his own hair ?? and would cut yours if you asked. mikasa vouches for him "yeah he trims my hair all the time. why ?"

- every year on your anniversary hes taking you to the aquarium. and he always kisses you as softly as he did the very first time, in the dark hallway of the moon jellyfish tank ✨

a/n

THATS ITTT !!! thanks again for requesting !! i hope you all enjoyed. remember asks are open !! u dont have to request headcanons either !!! go crazy friends !!

[aelaer]

Hi friend! You seem vast in your knowledge of Stephen and willing to share so please enlighten me as I don’t read the comics but I do watch the mcu movies, and do love Stephen.

I know he’s erratic and impulsive and reckless sometimes but didnt we already complete this arc in his first movie? Especially since we’ve watched him deal with the consequences of his actions for the entirety of the film and end of the movie Stephen was a different Stephen from the beginning of the movie.

IW Stephen seemed like a more mature version of the man we’ve met at the end of his first movie, a linear progression of the character, more responsible.

The spider man trailer is just a few minutes so I’ll further reserve judgment till I see the film, but he seems.. silly almost? I’m aware he has his funny moments but I’m just nervous they’re gonna make him the joke instead of having him make the jokes.

Do you notice anything weird about how the adults act in these newer marvel projects.? (I’m thinking of loki specifically) they all have a silly undertone to them? I cant put my finger on it but it’s definitely new and ..off

Is this a constant characterization for Stephen in the comics? Is this what he’s like all the time?

Regardless, thank you for your time if you see this xx

Oh yeah, Stephen's my favorite subject at the moment so I'm happy to give my thoughts!

Note that my answers apply to MCU!Stephen and what we've seen in the four films he's been in.

I know he’s erratic and impulsive and reckless sometimes but didnt we already complete this arc in his first movie? Especially since we’ve watched him deal with the consequences of his actions for the entirety of the film and end of the movie Stephen was a different Stephen from the beginning of the movie.

In my experience of just living, there are personality quirks that can be tempered out and made better, but not entirely eliminated, even if it's undesirable. In my opinion, Stephen's need to push himself and prove that he can Do A Thing is a trait that won't ever go away--especially as that trait has helped him more than hindered him. Examples would include the more mundane such as getting through a combined MD/PhD program and inventing surgical procedures at what is still a really young age for a neurosurgeon. We don't have a canonical age for Stephen, but Benedict was 40 when Doctor Strange was filmed and released; even if he's canonically in his mid-40s, that's still very young for him to be at his caliber after the necessary years of med school and residency in the United States. He's young and nowhere near the end of his career when he gets in the car crash. So with that information in mind, we know that he's very ambitious and throws himself into doing difficult work with gusto. That doesn't even go into everything he did as a sorcerer.

Why get into all of this? Because while we, the viewer who has seen the multiverse open at... some point (possibly, in a rewritten timeline, it's always been open now with what happened in Loki!), we have seen just how nuts it gets. We have seen the consequences. Stephen's smart, but I don't think it's a matter of strictly recklessness and more a combination of ignorance on this specific subject (erasing memories across the world or slightly rewriting time-- we don't know how he's doing it, but a memory spell makes more sense to me), hubris (of course), and the real desire to help Peter out. The latter two traits combined in intelligent people have proven bad in both fiction and reality.

The reason I don't think it's pure impulsiveness is because in the trailer, we see Stephen doing some meditation type thing in the underground area before the spell. He's also always doing research and as he tells Peter he'll help him, he clearly knows of a spell already and has some working knowledge of how it works. The conversation with Wong wouldn't have happened otherwise. But I personally get the vibe off him that he'd not do it without being very confident that he can do it -- and his history in the films has shown 0 failures in any of his spells once he's past novice-level, so in that aspect, his confidence makes sense. If he *should* do the spell due to the risks of failure, and lack of practicing precaution in the face of his confidence, is where his flaws lie, IMO. And in that sense people could say he was reckless for deciding to perform a complicated, dangerous spell, but that follows his M.O. completely -- he performed a very complicated, dangerous spell consistently with the Time Stone again and again, from how the sorcerers spoke about the Infinity Stone (and he casually just... throws himself into a time loop, then to look through time. He takes calculated risks, but they are very much risks).

One last thought on this statement - the biggest, biggest lesson that Stephen learned in his first film was that it was not about him. There was more to the world than his glory and his brilliance and even his happiness. He started doing things for the greater good rather than himself. And he started doing things for others -- fighting for the Sanctum in his own film, and protecting the Earth. Serving something greater than himself. But that doesn't make him suddenly humble, and it doesn't suddenly take away his strange (hah) sense of humor.

IW Stephen seemed like a more mature version of the man we’ve met at the end of his first movie, a linear progression of the character, more responsible.

He was more serious in that film. So was Tony. They still had some quips and arguments, but they were very serious. And it makes sense as to why -- it was the end of the world. So the mood of the setting would change anyone's demeanour. But he had very little chance to unwind in that film, considering that he was trying to protect one of six items that would destroy the universe, and also got freaking tortured in the middle of the film with little time to recover. But nearly every Avenger was super serious in that film, and for good reason.

It's a completely different setting from what is now Stephen's life which, from what little we've seen in the trailer, is weird enough that he got a magical snowstorm in the Sanctum. It's safe enough that Wong's off on vacation. It's been nearly a year since he returned from the dead. He's either figured out how to move on in the last year or, as some prefer, has gotten good enough to put on a facade and bury the trauma so far down that he's putting on a normal act - but that's up to debate until MoM. And we have no idea if old traumas are going to be brought up there or if it's just the new things.

I think the point is that it's possible to be both a responsible person and also to make colossal mistakes due to either emotional connections or hubris (or both - we don't know which way the film will go, if they'll explain it at all). They're not mutually exclusive. He can be protecting reality fantastically, while also believing that he's skilled enough to pull off the ability to pull off a dangerous spell which he did in his own film and in IW. He's guided the timeline down a specific path in IW/Endgame, after all - what's a little identity item compared to the fate of the universe, after all? Removing the Spider-Man/Peter association is, in comparison, child's play I imagine to a man like Stephen.

The spider man trailer is just a few minutes so I’ll further reserve judgment till I see the film, but he seems.. silly almost? I’m aware he has his funny moments but I’m just nervous they’re gonna make him the joke instead of having him make the jokes.

Do you notice anything weird about how the adults act in these newer marvel projects.? (I’m thinking of loki specifically) they all have a silly undertone to them? I cant put my finger on it but it’s definitely new and ..off

He was definitely silly in his own film. He was constantly trying to get Wong to laugh and there was a banter between Stephen and Christine after he gets stabbed. He's always been a bit awkward and a bit jokey--I think Thor showed that combination of humorous snark and good research rather well, though he was flippant in a way that didn't get to show his kinder side that is better established in his film. And now we get to see that sympathy in his agreement to help Peter (at least, in my opinion).

Because he was doing an amazing awesome spell not once, not twice, but *three* times in the trailer alone, I am not worried about Stephen just being a joke. He seems just as powerful as he was in IW and Endgame. The rest of the world is just getting reminded that he's definitely a bit of a socially awkward duck at times (or, if you prefer, Putting On a "I'm Fine" Front And It's Coming Across As Weird). So him being a big joke is not something I am personally worried about.

Situational humor has been a staple of Marvel films since Iron Man. I watched the films casually before 2016 when I fell head deep into Stephen Strange (or well, 2018/9 is more accurate as that's when I *really* went nuts), and my viewings before that time and after that time was a lot more analytical. And it's very easy to see where the silliness started, all the way back when Tony crashed into his own car and Dum-E sprayed him with a fire extinguisher. Thor was the butt of the joke in the "fish out of water" scene in a good, good chunk of the film. Even Captain America had some situational humor. And remember that Guardians of the Galaxy was back in 2014, which was halfway through the MCU's time thus far. The stars of these films are almost always the butt of some joke a couple times and do things that could be viewed as childish.

I don't know your age at all, but if you were born after 1990, what might be happening, rather, is that they are not getting sillier, but that you may be getting older. I was an adult (legally, at least) in 2008, but the way I view the adults of the films throughout the early 2010s as compared to now is night and day. It's just come with my own life experience, and wider understanding to media tropes. The jump is even more significant if you were younger in Iron Man/Avengers days and are an adult now. If you're an older adult than me, then I'd argue it's the matter of life experience adding to your overall knowledge of media plus, potentially, rose-tinted glasses giving you a better vision of the older movies while forgetting that the older movies had plenty of their own flaws (and silliness). Could be a lot of things- it's too individual to really say why your perspective has changed. But I don't think the MCU's largely changed their comedy formula since 2012/2013.

Is this a constant characterization for Stephen in the comics? Is this what he’s like all the time?

Oh the comics are a mess of characterizations. It's very difficult to find full consistency across writers, and some writers did him much better than others. At the moment, Jason Aaron's 2015 run is viewed as very good by a large amount of fans, while Waid's 2018 run is viewed with mixed reviews. It's largely a matter of preference as you'll see traits that are just so uncharacteristic in an arc and then it never happens again. He takes on secret identities, he kills billions to save trillions (along with the other Avengers!), he sells his soul, he's in a steady relationship for 30 years, then he's sleeping with a new woman every arc he co-stars in-- it's just so dependent on the writer over the decades. What Marvel thinks will sell. Right now Marvel thinks his death is gonna sell issues, so yeah :P You pick and choose with the comics and build a personality from there.

Thank you for the thoughtful ask. I hope this wasn't too much of a drag to read through; I get rambly on my favorite subjects. Or anything, really.

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. ok but thats also i think i dont get? because without the series or character names, what of any of the promo images or banner or anything else give away it's supposed to be a greek mythology story? they just look like people with weird anatomy who are colored like highlighters. at the very least some iconography should be on them, but there's not? like even percy jackson stuff makes sure to give him a trident and have water flowing around him.

2. rachel made three times where persephone could have made the choice to be with hades willingly and didnt do it each time. first time she was drugged and put into his car, where he phsyically handles her unconscious body and puts her in his bed (ew). second is her working for him, which was hera forcing it. third was her going to the underworld not because she wanted to, but because she was hiding from the law/apollo and he found her. where exactly is her agency in all of this?

3. LO seems like the fast food of webtoons. because there's no room to speculate or theorize, you just read an episode and move on, the bright colors distract that it's a rushed and lazy product over something with high quality and effort, the characters are flat and boring, and the plot has no substance. it's meant to be consumed in a rapid binge, because if not you realize what low-effort and what little you're actually getting from it when you slow down and actually think about it.

4. i mean rachel does have some logic to her fancasting, the problem is it seems the only people of color are either demonized for being hypersexual (aphrodite, eros until he's with psyche) or are literally r//pists who are out to harm her white-fa casted persephone (apollo), so yeah, there is logic there, it's just pointing to rachel being (hopefully unintentionally) racist

5. It pisses me so much that I work over time  (using references and looking at paintings and reading history for ideas for interesting character motifs) so that any of the ancient greek characters I draw look cool and authentically greek, and yet fucking Rachel Smythe, who can't even be bothered to do more than 5 seconds of research to learn that not all ancient greek outfits were shitty, minimalist off white and eggshell, gets to be revered as an artistic revolutionary. It pisses me off so. Fucking. Much. Not just for me, but for everyone else like me who absolutely ADORES greek mythology and wants to draw accurate portrayals of these characters! To whoever is reading this, stop. Stop rn and go read Sleep and His Brother Death (a comic on webtoons), go play Hades (the video game), go read The Song of Achilles (a book by Madeline Miller). Those are beautiful pieces of fiction about Greek mythology that deserve your attention more then Rachel and her shitty pink highlighter self inserts.

And a sidenote, I know that this is kinda like a modern AU for the gods. I am aware. Does not change that fact that anytime any character is drawn in ancient greek fashion it's always the SAME. SHITTY. CHITON. Maybe with a.cape or a scarf, but for the most part? It's just the same stupid, off white chiton.

6. oh, i thought you guys were joking persephone is now stuck with red eyes. is that seriously what look we're stuck with now? does rachel know it looks really ugly?

7. i feel like the lineart less style actually hurts LO in a way. way too often you can look at a panel and it becomes really murky where something starts and ends, and it looks even worse on a phone screen, because on an even smaller screen the images look even more compressed, making it even harder to tell stuff apart. this wouldnt be as bad if the comic took back up its more high contrast look from the begging, but now it's all one flat shade and im not sure why.

8. im really confused over the marketing of LO, tbh. like the ads are all hxp focused, but the series name implies its not about them, but focusing on the 12 olympians, but then the synopsis is general mythology and at the very end randomly mentions its about persephone? but then you read it and nots sure whether its a teen romance, a comedy, a serious drama, and can't stay straight with its messaging and timeline? and persephone is not there for a chunk of time. like whats actually going on?? 😭

9. Chapter 173 is like 50% filler. It gives more questions that answers, and not just from the reporters. Like the reporter stuff was mostly filler, and the Persphone and Hades stuff was like yeah we know dont need to drag this on.

My questions are WHAT ARE THE RED EYES? Is it when she’s mad? Horny? Sad? Happy? I feel like the red eyes just show up whenever RS wants to draw them

Flying? I feel like Persphone has always been flying like it wasn’t a bug moment at all. She flew home when Minthe and Hades kissed. But apperently Demeter didn’t know? I guess I don’t remember her flying in the mortal realm but her flying didn’t seem like a big moment, none of the other characters seemed surprised by it.

“Answer mine first!” When i got to that line I reread some of it just to find where the question was. That line normally matters when you’ve already asked the question not if you haven’t gotten there yet. Like of course Demeter is gonna be worried and ask a million questions.

I know the pomegranate pin is gonna be important but I felt the focus on it was a little too much, like an excuse not to cover more this chapter. Because honestly it felt like 5 minutes of the plot was covered in this chapter. 

10. So uh, whats up with Hades weird ass comments... Like "Persephone you look beautiful and if someone says otherwise they can go play on the highway" ???

Because Persephone looking good during a murder trial is clearly the most important thing here.

Also, Perse's response to the reporter who asked her about her friendship with Hades. I mean, on one hand Persephone is right, her "friendship" (or whatever it is they have going on) is nobodies business but her own - but at the same time, its kinda also the underworld denizens right to know in the sense that their future leadership could be affected so they might want to know whats going on if their getting a new co-ruler / Queen that they will be subjects of. They probably will want to know who Persephone is, should she and Hades get married because it's very likely that when (cause lets be real its a 'when' not 'if' they get married) they do get married that Persephone will inherit half the title.

So, eh?

[deputychairman]

Karate Kid/Cobra Kai survey

I was generously tagged by @ghostalservice but even if i hadnt been i’d be answering this important piece of research 

It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling? I’m unlocking new levels of cringe every day, babey! I’m cringe-bonding with some very fine people, I can’t look my own Pinterest in the eye, I’ve watched all of Ralph Macchio’s DWTS clips (for a given value of the word “watched” where it means “glanced at through my fingers every few seconds as my entire body curled up with secondhand embarrassment and overwhelming tenderness”). I don’t know HOW I’m feeling, exactly, but I sure am feeling a lot of it!

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series? I knew of it, I was like 6 and a tomboy when it came out (you know the kid who disappears in Stranger Things, Winona Ryder’s son? I looked like that until puberty) so I was absolutely the right demographic to get into it, but just didnt.

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character: DANIEL LARUSSO, always and forever! I’m embarrassed how much I care! I have to restrain myself from arguing with people who make mild jokes at his expense in the tags; he has never done anything wrong in his life, ever; toxic masculinity, I don’t know her; he invented dad cringe; he gives great head and loves to cuddle; he absolutely is traumatised by what Johnny Lawrence & the Cobras did to him and the whole Thing with Terry Silver but will always be all “what do you mean ‘trauma’ it wasn’t that bad hahaha!” While still telling at least the Johnny part with full drama “and then they pushed me off a CLIFF – but I’m fine hahaha!” He is holding his shit together like an eldest daughter, ok, and I’m the only person who can mock him. Me, Amanda & Johnny Lawrence. 

Favourite ship: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, their 35 years of shared trauma and the inherent eroticism of violence. I saw their gay little intense-eye-contact bow at the end of s3 and the cartoon lightbulb over my head went ding ding ding! 

Underrated character: Carmen: that woman just wants to get laid and she’s had to drink expired orange juice, listen to the “and then Daniel LaRusso RUINED MY LIFE” speech at drunken length, feature in a weird sex dream where the role she’s filling in Johnny’s libido is weirdly blurred with Daniel’s – doesn’t she deserve better? How confident are YOU that Johnny ‘hot asshole who partied through his 20s & 30s’ Lawrence showed her a good time in bed? Because I’m not that confident.

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol): Amanda & Daniel: I know we practically see her pegging him on screen, but I want to know more! The question of who the 80s heartthrob Karate Kid married, how they met, how old is she when her actress is only 42, the horny energy when they go out there to sell cars together like a one-two punch, the way she can absolutely murder him with blowjob jokes, whole face sparkling with delight, and he just accepts it – her general air of affectionate mockery, possibly because as a true audience cypher, she’s a little bit embarrassed at how into him she is – SURELY this dynamic merits more analysis!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?: I see that we’re interpreting this to mean the two seminal transformative works in the Karate Kid Cinematic Universe, which is perfect, I love the supplementary material, love the layers of fiction and reality you get to play with there! Ralph Macchio’s “I wanna make a sex tape. With NO cuddling!” obviously lives in my head rent free (hit me up for tips on explaining why that’s funny to a 9 year old), but I love the Sweep the Leg song and William Zabka’s vision for adult Johnny, the fact that they were able to make this video in the first place and add to the pop culture myth of the Karate Kid, the fact that he chose to put himself in a red Speedo and have Ralph Macchio look at him Like That

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?: How could anybody choose just one? But it would have to be the jean shorts on the beach look, when the camera shows us Ali from between his legs? Not sure what that angle was all about, I don’t understand the moving image, but I do know a Stone Cold #Look when I see one. Also the bare arms tank top, sweatpants & bare feet look in CK.  Keep on sexualising those old men 2k21! 

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:  Literally ANYONE from high school who can provide a 3rd party POV on how batshit insane it is that Johnny & Daniel are now running a dojo together.

Scene that lives in your head rent-free: the day drinking date in s1, the entire restaurant scene from s2, but especially every single word Daniel & Johnny say to each other: “bigger is better” “I didn’t need an army, just the right moves” “wanna take this outside and see whose leg will go higher?”.

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?: Yes, thusly: 

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join: Miyagi-do, don’t even need to think about it. I would like to AVOID conflict please, and if defensive karate can help me then I’m there. 

What’s your training montage song?: I have to train?  

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special? I’ve been thinking about this and my answer is Due South, because 1) if Fraser’s dad can manifest from the underworld on the strength of a bad relationship to offer useless advice, surely Mr Miyagi could come too and actually, you know, show him a positive example of a father/son relationship? The two ghosts would get on like a house on fire anyway, doing Dad Stuff and being deliberately cryptic. 2) I see a lot of Fraser/Daniel parallels: neat hair, “hahaha everything’s fine I’m fine and my life is totally together! People like me and I’m living up to my father (figure)’s legacy! Idk if I really see his ghost or if it’s just a sign of my fragile mental state, maybe I just won’t think about it!” And 3) Johnny & RayK would vibe: possibly they’d have to have a fight first to clear the air of all the toxic masculinity they’ve absorbed, but then they’d have a lot in common, like low self esteem and muscle cars and being a hot blonde mess.

[btswishes]

BTS: Reaction to their 16 year old sister not eating enough to lose weight.

A/N:  This is something I don’t recommend anyone doing. Take it as experience from someone who was in that hole. No matter what anyone tells you, you are beautiful and gorgeous. You don’t have to look like anyone else because you are one of a kind. Stay like that. :)

Requested by:  Anonymous 

Request: “  Hello! Can you do a bts reaction to their 16 year old sister being insecure and not eating much to lose weight? Thank you💜 “

                       -----------------------------------------------------------

Jin:

  Jin will try to cook for you the best meals he can think of and find. He will make sure they are healthy and full of nutrients, that they are super tasty, filling and new. “These are all healthy, have plenty vegetables, so you don’t have to worry about anything. You are just 16, I was your age too thinking of stuff like that. Beauty standards are a lie sweetie, you are beautiful by being unique. We will start slow, eat as much as you can now and we will work our way up till you are comfortable. Oppa is with with you, since day one and till day 0.”

Min Yoongi:

  Yoongi is one to observe quietly, but never late to react when the situation is important. And this one was of the highest priority to him, since it was about his darling sister. He would wait for your parents to leave the house and sit down next to you. 

  “Hey there. Are you hungry?” once you say no, he will comment how skinny you have gotten “ Look, I know what you are doing. I am not here to yell or get angry at you. It’s not your fault princess and don’t feel weak for not being able to control it. Things like these happen to the best of us, we are humans. It might be hard to ask for help or open up about it now, but you know I am here for you. “ he would pull out his car keys “How about we go get some milk tea and maybe a cookie or few if you are in the mood? You can get the drink only if you want to, no need to force yourself. If you want to getting something else, tell me. Big bro makes too much money and he can’t use it all up, so you have to help me out. Ok?”

Jung Hoseok: 

  Hoseok is a happy and go lucky boy. He has hard times ,but for the people around himself he wants to be that pill of happiness and motivation. Hobbi would pull you onto his lap and run his hand through your hair “How is my little princess doing? Is she happy? Does she need some love from her brother?” he would rub his head onto you “There, transferred some.Did you get it yet?” Hoseok won’t stop till you giggle “ There is that sweet voice I wanted to hear. What has you feeling like this my little angel? Ah, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel ready. We have all the time in the world, so take as much as you need.” his hand would pull your head onto his chest “You know, you were a picky eater since a little bean. I remember cutting myself, making characters out of your food. You seemed to eat it only like that. If you ever feel like you cant do something, come find me.I will always make it fun for the most beautiful and unique princess in the world. How about big bro makes you some fun snacks? We can eat them together and watch a good movie?”

Kim Namjoon:

  Joon is one to do his research before engaging in a talk with you. He would look up all he can find about these situations and what the proper way to handle them would be. “ I got this snack today and I couldn’t finish it by myself. Would you like some?” your eyes scanned it fast and hesitated. It looked delicious but the thoughts were eating you up from the inside “The weather seems nice today, how about we go take a walk while you snack on this? Get in a bit of exercise.” those words hooked you and you agreed in seconds. The sun shined on your skin softly as you were genuinely enjoying the food “ Do you see that tree? It’s pretty isn’t it.” you agreed with your big brother “What if I told you that people don’t think it is.” your eyebrows frowned as you spoke “ But it’s too young to tell, I am sure when it grows more it will have beautiful flowers or fruits.” Namjoon knelt next to you, running his hand over your cheek “ The same way you are the only one who can see the true beauty the tree is hiding, I do too. You are my tiny little tree, I want to keep you safe and make sure you grow up strong. Don’t try to look like other plants.” his finger tapped your chest “You carry your own beauty right in here. You might not see it but with time you will be able to see what has been in front of my eyes. You might find it difficult right now, but reach out to me when you feel down, don’t do this to yourself. I am always here for my princess.”

Park Jimin:

  Jimin is special in this situation. As someone with body-dysmorphia, he would notice your behavior fast. The same signs he showed, the same habits that took him ages to get rid off. He knows oh to well how fast one could fall into that abyss. Jimin wanted to stop this as soon as possible. After he notices things getting bad ,he would walk into your room with some food. When you lie to him about having eaten Jimin would drop the plate on the floor, tears pooling in his eyes. “B-brother?” His knees hitting the floor, hands gripping onto yours as his eyes look up at you “I know I should be your role model, I know oh too well. I failed myself once, I don’t want you to do the same. Please baby girl don’t look at the fashion trends or people that tell you looking one way is the norm.It’s NOT, it will never be. You are so young, so pretty and so smart. I don’t want you to be in the same dark hole I was in. You are worth so much more. It starts with eating less and less, then the regret hits, the fear, the anxiety. It eats you up my angel. I beg of you, don’t do it. Believe in me, let me help you. Please.” seeing your brother cry like this, hearing the words coming from the depths of his heart ,made you cry as you reached out for a piece of fruit he brought for you.

Kim Taehyung:

 Tae likes to laugh, giggle make all kinds of jokes.But in this situation his mind just went blank with panic. He didnt know what to say or do, even though he wanted to immediately. His mind wandered for days until something came up in his mind. “Y/N, get dressed we are going out.” you didn’t know what was happening, but you followed your brother “Where are we going?”you skipped next to him ”To a fashion show.” and he was honest. There were all kinds of people there and you were amazed. The models walked passed you one by one. After it was all over ,Tae grabbed your hand and pulled you backstage. He looked at your shining eyes “What do you see honey?” “Diversity.” came out of your lips “Dark skin, light skin, mixed, curvy or skinny, tall or short, man or women. No one here is the same, but they are all beautiful. Just like you.”He waved at a woman that smiled back brightly and ran over “Hey Yana, this my little sister. The one I told you about.” the woman’s skin softly tinted as dark coffee, she was shining brighter than any diamond. Curves for days and a smile such as the stars. “Oh my I was about to say she is too pretty to be your sister. Want a cookie honey?” you hesitated, but Yana put it in your hand “You need to eat something sweetie there is more don’t even worry about it. You want they say thick thighs save lives.You need to eat to  able to save. Come I will introduce you to everyone else.” They all looked different and beautiful, just like you.

Jungkook:

 Jungkook comes off aggressive at times, but in this situation he would do what he things is best and ask his hyungs for help. He would want all the help he can get. Namjoon will gather info, Hobi, Jungkook and Tae would try to show you the beauty in everything. Jimin with his experience. Suga and Jin would be a tag duo. At the end of the day all 7 of them will be with you no matter what. “Hey, mind if I sit here?” Kookie would push you a bit to the side and plop himself next to you on the couch “ I know I sometimes don’t have much time to spend with you. I just want you to know that no matter what I will first and forever be your big brother. I don’t know if someone told you something, but the Jeon genes are too strong so people get jealous of our beauty and strength. My words sound out of the blue right now, but I hope you would remember them when you look in the mirror next time. It’s not just me that sees this, ask anyone from bangtan and they will agree with me. You look like this because all these features look the best on you and only my pretty little princess. You are my special little sister, when people finally notice how gorgeous and kind you are, I will have to beat them up.” his words made you giggle “I mean it! No boys even after 50!” Jungkook swung a punch in the air “Brother!” 

[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Mount Teaser

Warnings: Swearing, Typos

A/N: so this is the first little teaser for a small probably two part for the Cavillry School Writing Challenge. My teacher is August Walker as Truant officer. i hope you all enjoy. XXX

Please ignore any typo’s this is unbeta’d.  

You frowned at all the girls around you. All tittering and giggleing like children. Most younger than you. Stupid children. But each a terror in her own right other wise she wouldnt be here. You hated this place already, the garish pink and peach cheque short skirt and white blouse with a bow around the neck, even in year thriteen-sixth form you were required to be in uniform. Ugh. Mount Ephrame academy was a a strange institution. A huge 100 acre plot in the countryside huge caslte like building no not like hogwarts...Think Balmoral or somthing like that. Some gothic Victorian structure with almost everything you could think of dotted around the grounds stables, pool, walled garden, cloisters a fucking orangey even a small bloody lake! It was insane here once stepping out of the car you'd gone cold. Houston we have a problem! A big fucking problem! It was remote and a whole different world you felt it in the air as you'd entered the building lile you were cut off from the world. But if the ten foot grey stone wall that encompasses the grounds was anything to go by. You were. On the one hand it was an all girls boarding school. On the other? A prison. Its where the delinquents were sent. You go to a young offenders unit or if your bad enough or 'salvagable' your sent here if theres any space. It was unnerving. It pitches itself as an 'institution of learning, growth and reform' you can find yourself here from the age of eleven to twenty one the curriculum covers from your year seven SATS through gsce and higher education even some degrees!  Once you are here you are trapt untill you get the go ahead from principal Cavill untill you prove your 'good and well mannered and will contributeto society'. Your trapped despite your age, your classed as a ward of the 'school' untill he says you can leave. You thought it was illegal but no in actual fact it was like prison. Catch you teach and mold you untill you can become a functioning member of society. The school itself had a reputation of being effective but no one knows how or why. No one questions it, if its not broke dont fix it. Aslong as the students excel and come out as pristine young ladies no one cares. You looked around at the long line of portraits hanging on the walls. A gallery of the staff. Nintey percent male. One hundred percent of the gorgeous, even a few abnormal looking ones like a certain Mr...Rivia??. Eyes are not naturally that bright even for honey brown. Contacts. And he must dye his hair. You scoffed at his portrait. He tries to hard. Probably trying to cater to the younger teens newfound 'werewolf' infatuation thats popped up. Just a few years ago when you were their age 'vampires' were all the rage...As long as the sparkled. You paced the hall small heels clicking on the stone floor as you went. You'd done your research you'd been here just over two weeks and you hadnt been idle. Finding out as much as you could and yet nothing at all. The girls didnt talk much about what goeson here one did slip saying 'the mount' as they called the school was traditional in values and the way it handled things. The girl was quickly shushed by the others who turned a suspicious red colour. Other then that not much was said and you were avoided which was fine by you. You wasn't staying. You traced the picture frames slowly one by one the stunning thick men staring back at you from behind the glass, most blue eyed some a bright azure like the astrology teacher a Mr Kent crystal clear blues looking at you from behind thick framed nerd glasses. Others darker. Like a Mr Walker. Ah yes your new foe apparently. You stopped and stared at him, he looked tough but... looks can be deciving, just looke at that Rivia one for instance. No you didnt think the stoic Mr walker dyed his har or wear contact's, but you did think he was trying to seem more intimidating thennhe wpreally was. He was the Truant officer, normally in schools the truant officer is the only member of taff who can really touch you. But here things were. Different. You'd learned from the others that what happens in the mount, stays in the mount. Walker was the one all the students feared most he had a reputation for being the toughest and meanest of all the staff. It was said he was CIA and trained to kill-had killed. And that he hunts down pupils how skip class stalking them like prey before dragging them into his office and giving them hell before taking them to headmaster Cavill for a second dose. Dose of what you didnt know but apparently it was bad. Painful even. You doubted that very much. You doubted many things about this place, the reputation, the legality, the curriculum, the teachers! But most of all you doubted they would contain you. You doubted they'd manage to keep you here at this correctional institution. You'd got to your final compulsory year at school and been thrust into this place dragged kicking and screaming into its halls of residence and set to stay untill 'further notice' you were just about to turn eighteen! Just about to leave behinde the 'holier then thou teachers' and do what you wanted and???  No. The government decided you used up our chances. A few warnings from police and being expelled from a few schools were fine but apparently drinking underage and caught with class A drugs was a step to far. The courts called you a liability and shipped you off here to continue education in a 'safe structured environment' your parents were only to happy to agree, why wouldn't they be? You'd get a free education, free room and board and collage courses a free degree to if you were not 'reformed' withing the next yer or so. All they had to do was sign their rights to the school for the duration of your stay. And indoing so condemned you to stay here until your new Headmaster deemed you could leave and not a second before! But what he didnt know, what everyone around you failed to realise is that your not like the rest. your not a simpering little girl who'd be 'put in you place' by a few pretty men spouting sweet praise and stern glares. you were getting out! you just had to put a bit of work in. "Miss y/l/n/? are you okay?" you snapped your gaze away from the photo snapping out of your thougts seeing Mr Cavill the headmaster. Your jailor, he frowned as he gained on you coming to a slow stop before you chest heaving with a sigh one brow quirked waiting for an answer. "yes I'm fine" you spoke stiffly, it was no secret you didnt want to be here, you hadnt yet fallen under what ever fearful lusty haze that seemed to hang over the other students yet. he huffed shifting on his feet tucking the folders under his arm tightly tipping his head forward  eyeing you over his glasses with an almost scolding look the made you jolt. "Well you wont be if you hang around here much longer. Your skipping class young lady, and right infront of me to. Didnt you hear the bell?" he asked slowy motioning to the school bell in the corner of the hall but you kept your mouth shut chooseing not to look at him. "Right well come on off to class with you, I'll let this one pass but you'll not get another get out of jail free card. come on get out your planner i'll walk you to class we can say you got lost" he added waving his hand at you making you scowl and pull out the planner rage boiling inside of you and you looked at the classes. Block B Art with Mr Solo. you huffed as Mr Cavil turned and motioned for you to follow him. "Come along before Walker Catches you, he does not put up with this type of thing accidental or not and take it from me you dont want to get in his bad books he is not known for being merciful to the girls" he utterd you growled under your breath casting one last look to the portrait trying to commit it to memory. you didnt give a shit about the truant officer's reputation. you'd be the one to get the better of him. And you'd be the first  to get out! You'd be kicked out. You swear to god your not stayng here. You couldn't!

[neverdoingmuch]

I’m here for the ‘swords not as pets’ agenda. Swords as cars: solid, get you from place to place, potentially dangerous, customizable, something people name. Wwx losing his license taking the fall for a mistake jc made (idk, dui maybe?) and just choosing to mod the hell out of a self-balancing scooter or segway or something so it goes dangerously fast. Alternatively: spending 3 months inventing the first functional actual levitating hoverboard, with an insane top speed. 3 months in the (1/2)

sawdfert this is delightful!! i saw segway and i immediately started wheezing,, there was no time for laughing i went straight to the wheezing. i think it would make more sense if wwx lost his car and got a motorcycle? like hoverboards and segways are cool but motorcycles have that big reputation of being dangerous and there’s the whole ‘rebellious teen gets a motorcycle and becomes a delinquent’ thing? like motorcycles are fast and if you crash it’s so much worse than if you were in a car and there’s no airbags or anything. but also?? wwx rocking up to school on a segway while playing his flute like the shittiest entrance ever? iconic. but let’s stick with chenqing as a motorcycle/scooter (motorcycle-esque scooter not the ones that try and take out your ankles).

okay so all the major sects are super rich so in a modern au it would make sense for all the sect heirs to get cars. i’m not saying that jc and wwx complain about jzx being stuck-up bc he was given a porsche for his birthday even though they were also given cars for their birthdays,,, but i am. at first it would have been this major point of contention between yzy and jfm bc wwx isn’t even their son so why is he getting a car too but wwx is like ah it’s so i can drive jc and jyl to school! you wouldn’t want their cars being left outside the school all day would you? someone in my maths class had their car get keyed and it was super expensive to fix,, and yzy is like yes wwx may have a car only to protect my children from parking hassles,, also wwx must pay for his own parking. so wwx and jc both get given cars for their bdays.

now wwx gets bored easily,, so you could translate him being a cultivation genius to him being really good at driving. im talking that jc is still getting the hang of switching gears and wwx is out there casually drifting around corners. (this does mean he has to get new tyres really frequently but he’s friends with wen ning, whose family runs the mechanics that wwx likes to go to so he just helps around the shop for a bit and gets a discount (yes its the family discount)). anyway wwx really enjoys driving, also! he just rocks up to wen ning’s place one day and is like dude, i wanna pimp my ride, wanna help and wen ning is like heck yeah. so wwx pays for some upgrades with his own money and he spends hours doing some custom work to make it look cool,,

it’s all going well until wwx and jc go to wen chao’s party one night and jc gets absolutely sloshed,,, like completely hammered. wwx had walked in, grabbed a cup of lemonade or something and was gonna hang with his friends but lwj was there for some reason so he spent the entire night talking to him in the back garden. which means that when jc wanted to leave he saw wwx hanging out with lwj and went ew gross and just decided to drive home himself. he crashes and when wwx comes home the next day jc gets super pissed at him bc he was meant to be the designated driver and if he hadnt been screwing around with lwj jc wouldnt have tried to drive home and now his parents will be super pissed and wwx is like woah chill my grandmother is a mechanic and she can fix this up just give me a couple of days. 

so wwx goes to baoshan sanren mechanics (which is just the back entrance to the wen sibling’s mechanics) and spends the next three days getting rid of all of his customisations and mods so his car looks exactly like jc’s. does he cry when he has to spend like five mins spraying the inside of the car with axe body spray to get the jc stench going on? maybe a little. but he does it and returns the car to jc! and jc is like oh wow my car is fixed, your grandma is a miracle worker and wwx is like haha yeah (:

anyway wwx mysteriously and suddenly discovers a passion for public transport,, it’s a good way to stay humble jiang cheng, he says, also i used all my petrol money buying porn from nhs or whatever. anyway wwx is doing the whole pt to school thing but then one afternoon wen chao and wzh find him and idk maybe the party got too rowdy so the cops came and wc got in trouble with his dad? he assumes wwx called the cops on him so he shoves wwx into his car and drives him out to the middle of no where and dumps him in the burial mounds scrap metal recycling place or whatever. 

the train line isn’t running that day and there’s no phone service either so wwx is stuck there overnight. he gets super bored. so what does he do? he finds an abandoned scooter and starts scavenging for parts. he’s not expecting it to actually work but by the time the sun rises he’s found some actually decent parts and he thinks that he could get it working. tbh he kinda forgets to go back home and just walks into town to buy some food and then goes back and continues fiddling with the scooter. he doesnt live there for the three months but the people in yiling just accept that this random teenager has all but moved into their scrap heap and adopt him anyway. so he goes and visits the burial mounds every day after school so none of his friends or family really see him anymore. 

until! one day he rocks up to school on his scooter. scooters,, are kinda like sad pathetic motorcycles,, but wwx mods his scooter with like a powerful engine and new steering and everything so people see it and go oh! a motorcycle! even though it’s not actually (can you do that with a scooter? idk but suspend your disbelief pls). so lwj is like hnnngg wwx in a leather jacket on a motorcycle but also wei ying, stop riding a motorcycle, *enter statistics about motorcycle crashes here* and wwx is like no! you cant take chenqing away from me. and jc is pissed bc they were meant to be brothers and have matching cars and be able to work on them and give them cool paint jobs together! but now wwx has this bike which has been modded to hell and back and refuses to drive his car bc it’s not as cool as his bike. so we get to have the whole ‘everyone thinks wwx is doing something dumb and dangerous’ bc he has a motorcycle and why isnt he just driving his car anymore? but we also get to keep some of the nuance of the demonic cultivation bc yeah it’s more dangerous than driving in a car but wwx doesnt have a car anymore and scooters are a loottt safer than motorcycles (if my two seconds of research is correct).

so! wwx won’t abandon chenqing and he did most of his work using scrap parts so he goes back to the wens and is like wen ning my best bro check her out and he’s like oooooooh and they start modding chenqing together. wen qing doesnt know why wwx is constantly over at their shop all the time but jc keeps arguing with wwx and wwx grows more distant with his family and friends bc he’s making ~bad decisions~ and a motorcycle is a gateway to idk teen delinquent shenanigans like smoking and doing graffiti so he’s kinda ousted from respectable rich people society and wen qing is like i have two (2) brothers now and they’re adorable not that i’ll ever tell them that. and wwx modding chenqing got him a reputation in yiling like everyone saw him walk in one day and then drive out with this sexy sexy bike so people start coming to him for mods and stuff and wwx earns the title yiling patriarch and wen ning, his trusted best friend and helper, gets called the ghost general bc idk he helps a lot but the customers never meet him. so they become some dynamic duo for car and bike mods!

anyway,, yzy delivers him an ultimatum one day: the car or the bike (or more accurately: the family or the bike) but wwx can’t drive the car anymore so he just gets quietly disowned and drops out of school. (we’ll save jzxuan the suffering in this au he can keep his car). he goes to the wens and theyre like hey whats up? wait no you cant live in a scrap heap,, not even if you buy a tent,,, just live with us please. and then wwx gets adopted by the wens and idk i want them to have a happy ending so wwx and wn go off and do some actual mechanic and modding training with some expert (sqdcfgt imagine if it was the real baoshan sanren who just happened to be in the market for some apprentices and saw wwx and wn’s work and was like them and then later realised it was her grandson). so they get their apprenticeship and they disappear off somewhere for a year or two - when wwx had been disowned he’d deleted everyone’s contacts and was like if they text me i’ll add them back but im not gonna have a contact list cemetery. (no one contacts him). 

eventually the 13 years pass and wwx has been helping the wens raise their little nephew a-yuan who is showing a real aptitude for being a mechanic even though he’s just a kid and just generally enjoying the quiet life of being a mechanic while doing fun mods and lil baby projects. then one day lwj’s car breaks down while he’s driving through the area and he calls up the local mechanic and guess who rocks up? it’s wwx. and then we get to have them dance around each other and wwx being like lwj doesnt trust me, he’s just sitting here and watching me work all day ): and lwj is like dont let him go dont let him go dont let him go,, and eventually they get their romance but this is way too long already so im im gonna end this here

i didnt mean to make this an entire au but i adored your idea so much anon so i kinda had to!!

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 05.2 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press 05.2, or the point of no return

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: literally 20k. remember when my estimate for both parts of 05 was 20k total?? hahahah

warnings: shitty weather, sexual tension finally comes to a head, mild embarrassment, death mentions, trashing on politicians, implied sex 👀

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 @superbarriobrothers @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 @cloudywlw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow  @siriusorionblackiii— hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

IT WASN'T A day later when Y/N saw Thomas again, but that time, she was in no mood for his antics.

It was one of her first days back to work at the diner, and while she'd known it was busy during lunch and dinner, she had entirely forgotten how overwhelming the crowd was during weekend rush hours. So, unfortunately, that Sunday was a wakeup call.

She'd already been on her feet for five hours; it was just after 1 PM, and she'd elected to take the opening shift that morning (it meant she could leave earlier, and that was good enough for her). However, with the sea of customers that continued to leak into the restaurant, her exhaustion was growing and growing. Moreover, Jac had let it slip to her that the tenant who lived above the diner had just moved out, and she was stuck in her head trying to figure out a way to bring it up to Mira that didn't reek of desperation. Her focus was entirely elsewhere, by then.

"Hi, what can I get you?" She'd just rushed back from making two cappuccinos and still had to get back to the ovens to make sure her bread didn't burn, so with how preoccupied she was, she hardly noticed who was standing before her. He, however, realized immediately.

"Oh... Hey." Thomas's eyes were wide as he looked down at Y/N, but her reaction to him was nothing but expectant. He cleared his throat, trying to bury how stunned he was, and she turned her attention to the screen as he gave her his lunch order. She didn't look up as a grin began to grow on his lips. By then, she'd obviously taken note of his presence, but she was far too tired to care. "So you're a barista now?"

He quirked up an eyebrow as she frantically typed in his order. It seemed to be as complicated as possible, and she would be lying if she said she didn't suspect that it was intentional. She huffed. "We can't all live in penthouses on Capitol Hill," she bit back at him irritably, and his expression went from playful to surprised.

"Hey, now." His tone was lightly offended as he furrowed his brow. He swiped his credit card, eyeing her warily as her stare bore into the keypad before her. "Was just gonna comment on your many talents, but alright."

She sighed as she met his eyes with a tired gaze. "Name for the order?"

He furrowed his brow. "Seriously?" She stared at him expectantly, though the corners of her lips twitched up almost imperceptibly. He rolled his eyes. "It's Thomas."

"And how do you spell that?"

"Like you've never written it before?"

Y/N was growing progressively more amused, tongue-in-cheek as she looked up at him, but her smile was well-suppressed. She wasn't going to let up. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She raised her eyebrows, silently challenging him to call her out. However, he'd apparently decided to play along instead.

"I'll let you guess that one, Ms... " He trailed off, squinting at her nametag, and she was having trouble swallowing the laugh that had begun to bubble up in her throat. She pursed her lips, trying not to find the whole ordeal endearing. "Y/N?" He looked up with an eyebrow raised, as though to confirm the pronunciation, and she gave him a sarcastic smile.

"Your order will be out shortly."

He grinned. Despite the irony in her expression, his was heavy with mirth. "Thanks so much, sweetheart; be sure to vote Jefferson in the primaries." He added a wink to his words as he put his wallet away. She rolled her eyes, biting back a scoff.

"I'll keep it in mind."

She finished sending in his order as he walked off with a grin before she retreated back into the kitchen, the other barista appearing to momentarily relieve her of her cashier duties. She was still in the thick of the lunch rush, and she couldn't lose track of her priorities -- especially since they were running quickly out of lemon bars, and it was rising unfortunately rapidly in importance for her to finish the yet-to-be-baked batch. Not that it contributed to her decision to move to the kitchens or anything, but she also couldn't stamp out the heat rising to her cheeks or her unyielding smile. (She couldn't explain them, either.)

"What's got you all smiley?" Jac raised an eyebrow as he packaged carry-out orders, and she quickly pressed her lips into a thin line. She slid the uncooked pan of lemon bars out of the refrigerator.

"Just glad to be back at the diner." She turned away from him with her dismissive excuse. The oven was always preheated for one reason or another, so she just slid in her pan, quickly withdrew her finished loaves of bread, and continued on, but Jac wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

"So it doesn't have anything to do with--?"

"I've gotta go back to mixing drinks, Jac; the line is a mile long," she cut him off abruptly, and he deadpanned. His pointed glance out the kitchen window toward the table where Thomas was sitting said all it needed to, and though she didn't miss it, she ignored it. "Let me know if you need me back here for anything. Can you take the lemon bars out when they're done?"

"Mm-hmm."

She ignored his suspicion as she rushed back out to brew another pot of coffee. She was still at work; she couldn't let herself ruminate on a two-minute interaction when there were customers who'd been waiting for at least half an hour, and so she let it slip to the back of her mind as she jumped from one task to the next, until finally--

"Order up for--" She heard a pause as she glanced toward the other end of the counter, seeing her coworker squinting at the receipt, before calling out, "Secretary Jefferson?"

When he went to collect his food, Y/N was perhaps overly pleased with herself, but she was also wholly unashamed of it, especially as she couldn’t help but notice his amused smile. He raised an eyebrow as he passed her, and she met his eyes brightly.

"Enjoy your food, Secretary Jefferson."

"That's a new way to spell 'Thomas,' huh?" he commented dryly, a brow raised, and she shrugged.

"Gave it my best guess."

"I'm sure you did."

---------------

UP UNTIL THEN, Y/N had spent the past week letting her writing take a bit of a back seat, her focus instead on her more recent financial crisis. However, it seemed Ashley wasn't going to let her off that easy. She'd reminded her on an abundance of occasions (more than twice a day over text and whenever they crossed paths in the office) that researching everything there was to know about Thomas Jefferson was still her job, that she'd still need to go to campaign events -- it as only a matter of time until the other shoe dropped. To her dismay, the 'other shoe' apparently meant she was required to make another day trip to Charlottesville, and it may have been one of her only work commitments, but she wasn't going to refrain from grumbling about it.

The only benefit of the situation was that her gracious host and temporary landlord also happened to be going, so she didn't have to go miserably navigate another black-tie political fundraiser alone.

When Lafayette pulled up in a Mercedes, she rolled her eyes. They were going to spend almost as much time in the car as they were at the venue, but it also appeared he wasn't going to let her slip under the radar as she'd hoped.

The mocking went both ways, though. Where he was excessively flashy, she was astoundingly fixated on her own comfort, rather than style. Lafayette laughed outright when she came to his car in a formal dress and a pair of slippers, pearls and pajama pants. (It was the middle of a blizzard, though, for fuck's sake. She didn't intend to freeze, and she certainly didn't intend to try and traipse through the mounting snow in four-inch heels and stockings.)

The ride south was painless if she didn't consider Lafayette's substandard taste in music or how poor visibility was. (She wasn't behind the wheel, so the latter wasn't her problem.) When they reached Monticello, though, she wasn't sure painless was how she could've described the rest of her night.

It was already dark when they arrived, the snowfall not having let up for a moment, and she whined about having to trade out her slippers for her heels, almost unwilling to sacrifice her pajama pants. However, entering the mansion had her almost immediately forgetting her strife.

Monticello was a grand estate. Staircases curved up either side of the entrance hall, coats being taken near one wall as everyone was funneled into the grand parlor -- not before passing the first of many elaborate chandeliers, though. The atmosphere was alight; the air held the warm, sweet scents of cinnamon and cherry wine -- at least, by Y/N's best, unrealistically-specific guess, but regardless of whether she was correct, she'd already begun to salivate.

"Shall we sit?" Lafayette offered her his arm, which she took, not for the sake of appearances, but because her feet were absolutely killing her, and she was desperate to take a load off. She looked up at him gratefully.

"Yes, please."

---------------

MUCH OF THEIR evening was uneventful. Lafayette socialized while Y/N networked; he drank four glasses of wine as she worked through her first; he pulled people to his sides to sing with him to the music of the cellist at the back of the room, and she took vigorous notes about the statuses of every campaign patron she interacted with. Needless to say, they had rather disparate experiences.

"Oh, Y/N!"

She stumbled backward as she was all but jumped on the edge of the parlor, being pulled into an enthusiastic embrace, and her eyes were wide when she recognized the smiling face of her assailant.

"Dolley! Hey!" She pulled away with a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The woman had become increasingly affectionate as Y/N had begun to see her more often, and if she'd been comfortable hugging her when they first met, then being tackled that evening did seem to logically follow. "How are you?"

She shrugged. "Been better, been worse. I'm at another campaign event, so that should tell you all you need to know." She checked her hip lightly against Y/N's with that, wearing a playful grin, and Y/N couldn't help but laugh.

"You and me both."

"I take it you're here on work, then?" Dolley took a sip of her wine, an eyebrow raised. (Y/N was rather impressed that the glass hadn't sloshed all down her dress, what with Dolley immediately ambushing her upon entering her line of vision.)

Y/N sighed. "I always seem to be. Not even allowed to get drunk at these events. How fair is that?" The complaint held little true bitterness, though, with the playful glint in her eyes.

Dolley looked indignant on her behalf. "You poor thing; they've really put you through the wringer, huh?"

"You don't know the half of it." Y/N's mock exhaustion provoked a laugh from Dolley, who pursed her lips, ultimately shrugging.

"You did gain me from it though." Her matter-of-fact tone made Y/N roll her eyes. "Count your blessings, Y/N."

"Really. I can be so ungrateful." She shook her head, upholding her exasperated facade, though when a grin split through Dolley's mask of disappointment, Y/N couldn't help the corners of her lips quirking up.

"What's tonight's article about, anyway? A critique of the baked brie? 'Thomas Jefferson Doesn't Know How to Throw a Party: An Exposé'?"

Y/N let out a huff of mirthless laughter. "If only. Instead, I'm supposed to be digging up some of Schrödinger's dirt on the campaign funders. My editor has no idea whether it exists or not, but here I am anyway." She paused with that, cocked her head to the side, pondering the question. "Now that you mention it, though, maybe my true calling was to be a food critic."

"Follow your dreams," Dolley agreed, nodding. "It'd probably be more exciting than this thriller of a crowd."

Y/N laughed at that. While the atmosphere was upbeat, she'd hardly seen any signs of life among its attendees, if she didn't count Lafayette's drunken instrumental karaoke. "What, the over-60 crowd of doctors and lawyers isn't doing it for you?"

Dolley grinned. "That's where you come in, dear."

"Suppose I should be glad to hear it," Y/N sighed as she eyed the room, forcing the false nonchalance into her voice. "Might have to change my exposé to how our prospective second lady is just using me for her own entertainment."

She hummed in agreement. "Mm, be sure to mention how cold and aloof I always am."

"You truly are cruel to me, aren't you?" Y/N met her eyes once again, her gaze wistful.

"Bet your readers will love to hear such a scandal."

"I can see it now," Y/N agreed, holding up her hands to paint the headline as she continued, "'My Toxic Relationship With Dolley Madison. Be Ready for the Articles of Impeachment.'"

As she laughed, a self-content smile adorned Y/N's lips. "What, are you planning to impeach me from the role of 'possible future second lady'?"

"Of course; I figured the implication was obvious," Y/N agreed, making the older woman roll her eyes.

"I wish you the best of luck with that, sincerely."

"I'll need it."

Dolley had been about to respond with a dry quip of her own, but Y/N's gaze was over her shoulder, not realizing she was cutting her off as a smile split through her face. "James!"

(Dolley wasn't too hurt as she learned who she'd been cut off in lieu of.)

The man in question was approaching the pair of them with two full glasses of wine, presumably one to replace what Dolley had just finished throwing back. (Why not? No one was counting.) "Y/N." He gave her a curt nod, amused smile playing at his lips.

"James." It was then Dolley who addressed him, reaching out to grab his extra glass from his hand without a second thought, expression longing, but James pulled it just out of her reach with his eyebrows raised.

"Haven't you had enough?" he asked his wife with a glint in his eye, who in turn huffed, folding her arms.

"Don't you dare," she complained. "I'm here for you; let's not forget."

"Of course not." He leaned down to press a kiss to the side of her head as he handed her the glass. Her small smile altogether betrayed her glare.

"Dunno why I put up with you." She pursed her lips into a pout, and he shrugged.

"Your prerogative, Doll."

She held his warm gaze for a moment longer before she seemed to remember herself, and she took a step back from him, turning to Y/N as her tender expression was immediately replaced with a grin. "Anyway, James, Y/N is here covering the demographics of your and Thomas's donors."

She gestured toward Y/N with the hand still bearing a full glass, and Y/N didn't comment when upwards of a tablespoon sloshed over the rim with the motion. James raised an eyebrow, wearing his forever-unshakeable look of composure. "That right?"

Y/N nodded with a light sigh. "Unfortunately."

"And what have you found, so far?" James's lips were pressed into a thin line at how exhausted she appeared, giving his best effort to hide his amusement.

"Oh, it's been real exciting stuff, hasn't it, dear?" Dolley wore a facade of sincerity as she addressed Y/N, her brow knit as though deep in thought, and Y/N matched her disposition.

"Absolutely scintillating, truly. I've only fallen asleep about fourteen times, which is a real feat for corporate America." She nodded to James earnestly as to corroborate, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

"Consider me impressed." Y/N gave a cheeky grin, and he continued, "Have you enjoyed what you've found thus far?"

She hummed skeptically. "Couldn't tell you. I was asleep the whole time."

That coaxed a laugh out of him, though. "I expect this will be a glowing article, then."

"The less I learn, the better?" She cocked an eyebrow as she glanced around the room, her gaze drifting from one wealthy businessman to the next.

"The less you conclude, the better," he corrected her with a knowing smile as he followed her gaze across the sea of patrons. "Don't assume anyone you speak to has the full story."

"Would you care to comment, then, James?" He turned to her with her eyebrows raised. "Because I really need some actual information, and I really don't want to go interview Jeff Bezos."

"'Jeff Bezos'?" he repeated quizzically, and she shrugged as she looked back to him.

"Seems like his type of crowd, no?" James chuckled, shaking his head as she continued, "What about Steve Forbes? I wouldn't mind getting a quote from him before the writers who actually work at Forbes can manage it."

"We aren't taking donations from CEOs or super PACs, actually."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Is this on the record?"

"It can be." He looked mildly pleased with her reaction as she scrambled to create a new audio file on her phone. "We didn't want--"

"Shh! Gimme a minute. It hasn't started recording," she chastised him, and his smile grew at how exasperated she looked. "Alright, now speak."

"I'm a politician, Y/N, not a trained monkey." His indignation was wholly in jest, but she sighed dramatically, looking at him with a deadpan stare.

"Of course you aren't," she consoled him with an air of faux-sympathy, but he seemed to expect -- and rightly so -- that she wasn't done making fun. "You don't tell monkeys to speak; that's for show dogs. I'm not stupid."

He ignored the sigh that accompanied her words, raising an eyebrow. "So you're comparing me to a dog?"

Again, she plastered on a front of fatigue, which only compounded upon his amusement at her demeanor. "James, please, I'm supposed to be the one asking the questions here."

He rolled his eyes, but it seemed he'd exhausted his banter for the time being. "Please, ask away."

"So, back to CEOs and PACs. Why won't you take their donations?"

"We want to show that we're really here, in this, for the people." She cocked her head to the side, lifting the phone to be sure to catch his words, and he continued, "We want to demonstrate that we have no conflict of interest with the corporate sector. And if we don't receive enough donations for the campaign, then we don't have enough support to properly represent the people."

Y/N was silent a moment, brow furrowed, and she nodded ever-so-slightly as she pondered his words. Finally, she admitted, "I didn't think this was that kind of campaign, to be honest."

Her reaction seemed to gratify him; his eyes shone with pride. "You thought we lacked principles, you mean?"

She pursed her lips. "It's... possible that I may have made some assumptions."

"Well, I'm always happy to be the bearer of good news."

"Glad to receive it," she agreed quietly. The look in her eyes was absent, but her momentary trance broke almost before they'd noticed it, and she donned a wide smile. "Maybe you'll actually have some common ground with my readers this week, hm? Truly bridging the partisan divide. What a feat." While her enthusiasm was contrived, her words were sincere, and Dolley grinned.

"We knew you'd come around to our side."

"Woah, woah, woah." She held up her hands in playful defense. "I'm not the one changing sides. This was our political territory first."

"You really think Adams is rejecting corporate funding?" James looked at her expectantly, and she deadpanned.

"John Adams is not representative of his entire party, I can promise you that much."

"But he's the candidate."

"Not yet, he isn't," she resisted, and James raised an eyebrow. "It isn't fair to hold him to the standard of the party nominee when we've hardly started the primaries."

He tilted his head to one side as he regarded her, lips pursed. "Maybe not, but Thomas has been consistent with his values since the very beginning of our campaign."

"Who said Thomas was the standard?"

"What are we callin' me the standard of, now?" The southern drawl caught Y/N off-guard, and she flinched, her eyes widening. She turned reluctantly to see James's ever-so-principled candidate in the flesh, an eyebrow raised and wearing an amused grin as he came up on her left behind Dolley.

"Thomas!" To her relief, Dolley's overwhelming affection bought her a moment to gather her bearings as she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, how are you? I haven't seen you all night!"

Y/N couldn't explain why her throat was suddenly dry as Thomas slowly removed Dolley from where she'd latched onto his shoulders, nor why her stomach turned at the sight of him. He was beaming almost as brightly as Dolley as he held her by the forearms, but Y/N missed what they were saying. Her heart had begun pounding in her ears, and she wiped her sweating palms on her dress as discreetly as she could, tucking her phone back into her purse in an attempt to busy herself with anything other than his presence as he went on to embrace James. She prayed she'd find an opportunity to remove herself from the conversation unnoticed.

Her opportunity never came. She emerged from her bag to see Thomas looking over at her with an eyebrow raised, apparently entertained by how abruptly flustered she'd become. "Y/N."

She pulled the straps of her purse back up to her shoulder with a weak smile.  "Thomas. Hey."

She couldn't fully explain her sudden anxiety, didn't know quite why her heart was racing. Maybe it was just that he'd surprised her, or that he'd walked into a conversation that he was the focus of -- or maybe, though she discarded the thought deep into her subconscious, she was simply blindsided by being confronted with his presence in public, still struggling to figure out where it was the two of them stood.

Though she shifted uncomfortably, folding her arms, he didn't look away for another moment. The silence grew deafening, but she didn't have it in her to break his gaze, and she swallowed roughly. When he finally turned his attention from her, he chuckled almost imperceptibly; his smile had broadened.

"So what'd I miss?" He looked brightly over to James, making no effort to conceal how pleased he was. "You all talkin' about how great I am?"

"You're not far off, actually," James informed him, wearing a knowing smile. Thomas's eyebrows shot up. "We were discussing our campaign funding policy."

"And we're not already bein' smacked in the press for it?" He looked at Y/N with mocking disbelief, and she just rolled her eyes. She elected to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks.

"Quite the contrary," James said with a nod. "Y/N was impressed."

James looked contented, but Y/N could almost see Thomas's ego tangibly swelling, and he turned to her with wide eyes, surprise flashing in his gaze. "Is that so?" He sounded as smug as he looked, and Y/N fixed him with a flat stare.

"Are you really looking for acclaim just because you aren't corrupt?" she asked dryly. When he didn't respond, it became increasingly obvious that praise was exactly what he wanted, and she rolled her eyes. "Congrats, Thomas. You must be so proud."

"Trust me, sweetheart, I am." His smirk had taken root, by then; there wasn't anything she could've said or done to knock him down a peg. "Thought it'd be a cold day in hell before you'd support anything my campaign was doin'."

"Then maybe there are a few things you should re-evaluate," she replied, voice stiff, and he laughed.

"Or maybe," he began, raising a cocky eyebrow. "You should re-evaluate your party loyalty. Y'know, the primaries aren't gonna end for another couple months. You aren't runnin' outta time just yet."

"It's gonna take a lot more than that to convince me to register as a Republican, Thomas."

"You'll come around." His words came alongside a wink, which evoked a scowl from her.

"We'll see about that."

"Mm, sounds like a challenge, Y/N," he teased, a singsong lilt in his tone. His eyes narrowed as he took a sip of his drink, and the preying glint in his gaze sent a shudder down the back of her neck. "But I think you'll find I can be very convincing."

---------------

“HEY, HOW MUCH longer do you want to stay?"

She'd finally managed to track down Lafayette near the refreshments table at the back of the room, and by then, he was well past tipsy.

"We cannot leave yet! Where 'ave you been all zis time? You 'ave been missing all ze fun!" He threw an enthusiastic arm around her neck, throwing her off balance a moment, and as his wide grin didn't waver, she sighed.

"Laf, I have to work in the morning."

"Ah, loosen up, first," he pleaded, tugging her alongside him toward the crowd near the music. (She wasn't sure how he'd managed to get a crowd of politicians and businesspeople turnt to Brahms, but she was undeniably impressed.) "You will regret not enjoying yourself, chérie!"

"I think it's a little too late for that," she muttered bitterly, though he was too absorbed with the energy of the room to notice.

"What was zat?"

"Nothing," she told him, louder that time. "I'm gonna go find a bathroom, real quick."

"Non! You are just trying to get away from me!" He was more insistent that time as he pulled her to the cellist, and she huffed.

"C'mon, I'll be back in a minute, okay?" She hesitantly removed his hand from his shoulder, and he gave her a disappointed glance. "I've just had a little too much to drink; gimme a break."

As feeble as her excuse was, seeing as she'd hardly had a drop of anything all night with her effort to stay painfully sober (and their drink options didn't go far past wine), Lafayette released her with a pitying wince. "Ah, no worries. I understand." He hesitated a moment, before adding, "Do you need me to 'old your hair back?"

She couldn't help her laugh at his genuine concern. "I think I'll be alright. Thank you, though."

"Be safe, chérie!" His voice was all but slurred as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the top of her head before wandering off, and she pursed her lips, amused as she watched him go. She would've tried to keep an eye on his blood alcohol content, but he was already drunk to the point of no return, and he seemed too enraptured by what he'd made of the evening to break away for long enough to refill his glass again.

She chuckled lightly, shaking her head as she turned to leave. The first left she took just led her into the dining room, so she turned back toward the entrance hall, trying to find any nook or cranny that split off into a part of the estate where she could have some quiet. She wasn't sure what she was trying to find, necessarily, but she wasn't about to get wasted with Lafayette. One of them had to be able to drive home.

A right, a left, and another right later, she'd gained next to no information on where exactly she was heading, other than that of the sitting room she'd just passed. Her watch told her it was just past 11 PM, and she sighed. She wasn't sure when she'd be able to drag Lafayette back out the front doors, at that rate.

The hall she continued down didn't lead her into a bathroom, to her dismay, but what she saw had her footsteps gradually stalling as her gaze raked down the walls around her. She'd stumbled upon a rather grand library, and one look to her right told her that it would only continue on the further they walked.

She glanced back over her shoulder, and seeing only the empty room she'd just left with its empty armchairs, gave in to her curiosity, wandering toward the side of the room with wonder in her eyes.

The bookshelves reached the ceilings, and every book was bound in aging leather, many torn or cracked at their spines. It had to be some sort of a collection, with the sheer number of novels -- and biographies, and anthologies of poetry, of short stories, even memoirs and atlases, as she realized just moments later. She ran her fingers over the gilded edges as she continued on into the next room.

The hall ended in a small sitting room, one that didn't have nearly the same pomp and circumstance as the rest of the estate, but it was cozy, with its red sofa and armchairs, its wood-burning fireplace and little lamps. The room was illuminated softly with the only light filtering in being from the adjacent rooms and the moon, and the small fireplace cast a warm glow before it.

She bit her lip, wore a small smile as she drew closer to the window at the back of the room. Her gaze was fixated on the bookshelf beside it, and -- as every book, every spine and title came into clear focus -- despite her hesitance, she pushed herself up onto her toes, reaching for a volume more than a foot above her head. Before she could pull it down, though--

"Should've known you'd find the library at some point."

"Thomas!" she squeaked in surprise, recoiling from the bookshelf -- she'd recognized his voice immediately, her eyes wide. She whirled around to see him leaning against the doorway and unconsciously took a step back, feeling much like a child who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

He didn't look angry, though. In fact, his expression was far from it. His gaze was soft, his arms folded and ankles crossed, and though he looked amused, his smile held none of its frequent mockery despite her clear panic.

He raised an eyebrow, and she blinked hard, immediately began to try to excuse her presence there. "Shit, I... I didn't mean to end up here, honestly, I was just looking for the bathroom, and I--"

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not under fire." He chuckled lightly as he pushed himself off the doorway, walked toward her into the room. "Looks like I'm not the only one who needed some air, huh?"

His gaze flickered down just a moment as she bit her lip. "Really, I was just trying to find the bathroom," her words were quiet, hesitant, and he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Oh, really?" She nodded. "Go ahead. It's down the end of the hall and to your right." He tilted his head toward the rooms behind him, and her brows shot up. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot about the excuse -- she'd initially produced it just for Lafayette's sake and wouldn't have thought it needed to be any more thorough than it was.

She was reluctant to take a step forward, and she glanced back over her shoulder at the bookshelf, desperate not to leave after she'd just struck gold, as it were.

"I..."

"You...?" He waited for her to continue, his skepticism never subsiding, and when she didn't, staying rooted to her spot, a smug smile began to play at his lips. "That's what I thought.

She hated how easily he'd called her bluff, and she refused to meet his gaze as it grew increasingly self-satisfied. She scowled. "And what are you doing back here?"

"Didn't I just tell you I was lookin' for some peace and quiet?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or did you think someone just left that fire to try and burn this whole place down? Hm?"

She could feel herself flush as she crossed her arms; she hadn't thought that far into the fireplace that was active long past when it should've been, admittedly. "So you're just trying to run off while you have a parlor full of people giving you copious amounts of money right around the corner?"

"Somethin' like that."

She furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"Do you have any idea how exhaustin' this gets?" He looked down at her, wearing a timid smile. "I've been gettin' grilled all night; you'd be tired too."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, putting on a playful expression of shock. "You're telling me you actually get tired of talking about yourself?"

He cracked a grin. "Nah, just talkin' about the rest of the country. Y'know, the voters, the ones I'm supposed to be representin' or somethin'."

"Be careful, or this is gonna end up in this week's editorial," she warned him, though she couldn't inhibit her smile, and he cocked a brow.

"Oh, yeah? You gonna expose me?" The skepticism was heavy in his words alongside his confident smile, and she shrugged.

"Don't tempt me."

He chuckled, taking a few more steps toward her, the gap between them slowly closing. She swallowed. "Anyway, what's got you tryin' to escape? Lafayette gettin' a little too handsy?"

His teasing quickly had been restored, and she rolled her eyes, ignoring the latter half of the question. "Turns out talking to old philanthropists is just as exhausting when you're the one asking the questions."

"No!" He gasped mockingly, placing a hand on his heart. "You mean workin' till midnight isn't doin' it for you anymore?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong; this is exactly my idea of a good time," she said defensively, though, with the sarcasm in her voice, she couldn't hide her own growing smile. "Usually more of a weekend activity, though. Can't handle this much excitement on a Wednesday."

"And ransackin' my library sounded like a good way to relax?"

"Glad you follow.".

"Find anything you like?" She raised her eyebrows as he further encroached on her space, feeling her breath catch. He stopped beside her, scanning the bookshelf along the back wall, but she was struggling to focus on his words as his shoulder brushed against hers, and she tensed, shied away from the contact. Before she caught herself, her absent stare rested at his lips in the closing proximity; her heart rose to her throat. He raised an eyebrow when she didn't answer, and upon seeing how she was looking at him, he gave a smug grin. "Not includin' me, I mean."

Her eyes widened; she prayed she didn't look nearly as red as she felt as vindication flashed in his eyes. He only continued to watch her expectantly, until finally, she turned alongside him to the books she'd been eyeing. Her gaze didn't take long to find where it'd been fixed before he interrupted her musings.

"I..." She went to reach for the book she was eyeing, but she trailed off as she stopped herself short, glancing nervously back to Thomas. "Can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart." He grinned as she stretched up toward the shelf that housed it. She let out a soft, frustrated sigh when she couldn't reach it, pushing herself further up with a hand on a lower shelf, almost jumping for it; all the while, Thomas's smile grew. "Need a hand?"

"Please." Her expression was defeated as she looked to him, and he pulled the book down with ease. She could only focus on his hand resting at the small of her back as he reached above her, his fingertips seeming to burn as they grazed the thin material of her dress, though he was just being careful not to inadvertently tumble into her. He didn't notice how she shivered under the fragile touch, and he raised an eyebrow as he looked the volume over.

"Lord Byron? Really?" He looked down at her curiously, ever-present teasing in his eyes. "Didn't take you for such a romantic."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Thomas," she replied, looking up at him with her gaze soft, before she cracked a grin. "Besides, what better way to relax is there than reading poetry about the ravages of war at midnight on a Wednesday?"

He laughed. "That's an awful specific type of self-care."

"Can't help that the over-fifty crowd you've assembled has me so riled up."

"I'd think the 19th century would be even wilder."

"So it'll help get my energy out," she quipped. Her gaze was tentative as it flickered back to the book he still held, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Then don't let me get in your way." He held the book out to her, smiling at her hesitance, and she accepted it readily, looking pleased as its title, embossed in gold foil, flashed in the moonlight.

"Always a philanthropist, huh?" Her reply was soft, absentminded, though; she wasn't looking for a response. By then, she was already caught up in the grandeur of the aging anthology of poetry. She settled into one side of the sofa as she hesitantly cracked the spine, terrified by the prospect of damaging it.

She didn't notice Thomas watching her with endearment, didn't even realize when took a seat on the couch beside her until the side of her thigh brushed against his. And when she did notice, she didn't react, though her skin jumped under the thin material of her dress. "This is gorgeous," she said, leafing gently through the book's weathered pages, running her fingertips along little stray marks and notes penciled in. After a moment, she looked up at Thomas. "Where'd you get it?"

"Think it was my great-grandfather's. It's been in the family for a while."

Her eyes widened. "How old is it?"

"This edition's from around 1900," he said, shrugging. "Bought it secondhand years later, though."

"It's more than a hundred years old?"

He chuckled at how dazzled she was, her eyes gleaming and her mouth hanging ajar. "And this is probably its first time bein' opened in fifteen years."

Her eyebrows shot up; she was appalled that anyone would have such an ornate, century-old copy of the book and leave it to collect dust on a shelf. "Why have it if you're never going to read it?"

"My family's been collectin' books for as long as we've been around, sweetheart."

"Writing isn't meant to be collected." She let out a sigh as she looked back to the collection of poetry that lay open in her lap, fiddling absentmindedly with the ribbon attached at the spine. He raised an eyebrow at her statement. "It's supposed to be experienced; it should make you feel something. It's a waste to just lock something like this away."

"Feels like that hit close to home." Though his voice was teasing, it was quiet, inquiring. She laughed, but the sound was hushed.

"I am a writer, Thomas." She looked back up at him with a demure smile to find that his gaze hadn't left her as they'd sat. "Or have you forgotten altogether that's why I'm here?"

He furrowed his brow, frowned, though his voice was playful. "So you mean you aren't here just to see me, sweetheart?"

She laughed again, unabashedly that time, as the mock disappointment faded from Thomas's face. His grin matched her own. "Please, I haven't even talked to Mark Zuckerberg yet. I thought it was fairly clear that I didn't come for the company."

"Not even for Dolley? Lafayette?" She shrugged innocently, and he teasingly bumped his shoulder against hers. "That's tough."

"I trust you won't rat me out."

He winked mischievously. "Don't count on it."

"Hey!" Her offense was far from sincere, with the joking lilt to his voice and the laugh close to the surface of hers, but she couldn't help her huff at how immediate his answer was. She pursed her lips, plastered on a pout. "If my secrets aren't safe with you, then brace yourself. You'd better get ready for an exposé about how Thomas Jefferson absolutely despises every one of his donors."

He chuckled. "Do I, now?"

"You are back here instead of out there with them."

"Mm, and you're obviously not exaggeratin' at all."

"I don't need to." She shrugged. "Since apparently these books don't even get read, you don't have much of an alibi for 'needin' some air.'" She leaned into the last three words in a painfully contrived southern accent, air quotes and all, and he grinned at her mocking impression of his voice.

"You think I sound like that?"

"Precisely." She nodded, her tone matter-of-fact, and he rolled his eyes despite the laugh he fought back.

"Anyway, some of these are bein' taken out every once in awhile, but since it's not my library, I've gotta take advantage of them while I can."

"'Not your library'?" she repeated quizzically, and he shrugged.

"I mean, it's the family library, but I don't come down here much." She couldn't help but notice how fond his voice was as he glanced around the room. He grinned when he turned to find her watching him. "I am still livin' on Capitol Hill, in case you forgot."

She pursed her lips, trying to conceal how her smile was growing. "And you'd sacrifice your night of schmoozing patrons and getting donations just to be back here?"

"I've schmoozed enough donors for one night. Besides--" Y/N shifted in her seat, slowly closing the book in her lap as she turned further toward him. "--James was always better at understandin' people."

"So we're just gonna pretend that slacking on the job isn't the reason you're back here?"

"Shh, c'mon. I'm makin' informed decisions as a professional." By then, he'd shifted the same way as she; they were facing one another on the couch, despite being shoulder-to-shoulder. He grinned in self-satisfaction. "I'm takin' on the responsibility of bein' the only person who reads these books."

"How truly self-sacrificing."

"I'm a man of the people, sweetheart." She chuckled lightly, leaning into the cushion on the back of the couch, and for a moment, they were both silent; she bit her lip at the heavy pause. His gaze flickered down to her lap, to the collection of poetry she'd shut but still continued to run her fingers over, tugging at the top of the spine, fiddling with the stacked corners of pages. He cocked his head to the side, and though he looked uncertain for a moment, his voice was decided. "Take it."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"The book." He nodded toward where it sat, all but ignoring her surprised stare. "Borrow it. Don't worry too much about returnin' it, just get it back to me whenever you're done with it."

Another beat passed as she sat stunned, certain she couldn't have heard him right. When he raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to answer, she exhaled softly, glancing down at the book. "Thomas, I couldn't possibly."

"Why not? It's a library; we're supposed to be loanin' 'em out, aren't we?"

His nonchalance about it had her entirely dumbstruck, and she bit her lip. "And what if something happens? What if it gets ruined?"

"I'm the only one who's gonna notice; I promise." He grinned. "No one's readin' it here, anyway."

She took a shaky breath, looking him in the eye. "Are you sure?"

His smile had softened at the awe in her expression. "Positive, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Thomas." She covered his hand that still lay on the couch with hers, squeezing it lightly.

"It's nothin'."

"Maybe not to you." She knocked her knee gently against his, and it was her expression that was playful this time, though her words were nothing but genuine. "But it means a lot to me. Really."

His eyes sparkled with affection as he threaded his fingers into hers. "I'm glad."

She bit her lip, holding his warm gaze. The room seemed to slow as she felt herself hesitantly shifting toward him. With her movement, when he saw how she drew deliberately closer, Thomas unthinkingly reached up with the hand that wasn't enclosed in hers to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face. The feeling of his calloused fingers as they grazed the side of her head sent a shiver down her spine, and when his hand didn't fall, ghosting his thumb across the expanse of her cheek, she leaned into the touch.

"Thomas." Her grip on his hand tightened in the slightest, her stare fell unabashedly to his lips. Though hesitantly, she pulled closer to him.

However, he hadn't moved. Reluctance lay thick in his gaze as he searched her expression. As she looked expectantly up at him, waiting for him to close the space between them, he just swallowed.

Finally, he spoke. "What are you lookin' for, from me?"

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"You're harder to read than you realize, sweetheart." She blinked. Was the implication not obvious? Wasn't she laying out in the plainest terms possible what she was looking for? Did he need really her to ask for it? He pursed his lips. "Whenever I think I've figured you out, somethin' changes."

"What do you mean?" she breathed. She pulled back to where she'd initially been sitting, almost hurt but certainly embarrassed as she withdrew, and his hand fell from her face. He didn't release her hand that still lay in his.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I mean the mixed signals. Wantin' me when we're alone and avoidin' me like the plague in public. Askin' me to kiss you in Detroit and then runnin' out on me. I can't just keep guessin'."

She stayed silent, unsure of what she could possibly say -- it wasn't often that she was left speechless, but this time, he was right. She'd always been of two minds with him. Rationally, she couldn't have him, not when they were from such different worlds, had such conflicting careers, but when she was alone with him, she couldn't help herself. However, she couldn't have expected him to so plainly call her on it.

"I wanted to talk to you about it at Lafayette's, but I've never been able to figure where you stood. And now this..." He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair, breaking her gaze. He huffed. "I just don't know what to make of you."

It was guilt that sunk in her chest at his words, but indeterminate regret weighed heavily on her conscience. "Thomas, I..." She couldn't go on with the response. There was nothing for her to say, not when her head was still in pieces, not when her career needed one thing but her libido demanded another.

He held her gaze another moment, shaking his head when it revealed absolutely nothing, when it couldn't tell him what he needed to hear. He took a deep breath as he stood up. Her hand that'd been holding his fell to the soft corduroy of the cushion. "Just... forget it. I shouldn't have brought it up." He started toward the hallway, and her eyes widened.

"Thomas, wait." After the initial shock of the point-blank confrontation began to subside, she scrambled to catch him as he began to leave, tucked the book under her arm and rushed out toward the hallway. When he heard her giving chase, he reluctantly turned to her with raised eyebrows.

"Y/N?" His tone was expectant, almost hopeful, but it was still disappointment that flickered in his eyes. She paused; she didn't know what to say, but she didn't want to let him leave like this, not when uncertainty hung so heavily in their atmosphere. He sighed. "Sugar, until you figure out what you want, I can't help you."

She didn't look away just yet, though. She wanted to have an answer, something, anything to tell him -- she was desperate to find some way to create some normalcy between them, to make things as easy as they always seemed to be. She had nothing to offer, though, other than, "I'm sorry."

He gave her a faded smile. "No need."

Y/N couldn't help her small frown at how gentle his voice still was, as though he was worried about hurting her, of all things. She glanced down at the leather-bound book she still held, and she pulled it out from beneath her arm.

"I suppose I should give this back, then." Her voice was soft as she looked up at him, and he shook his head lightly.

"Keep it." His gaze was kind as he pushed back on the book where she'd offered it up. "It's alright. Leave it with Lafayette when you're done."

He looked down at her expectantly, and she took a deep breath, hesitant. "Or I could return it next time I see you?"

Despite its tone of melancholy, his smile grew at how hopeful she sounded. She couldn't bear to let this feel so final. "Whenever works, sweetheart."

She swallowed, nodded, but her shoulders slumped. A moment passed in silence as she stared up at him, and though he looked inexplicably composed, even casual as he waited for her response, she couldn't help but feel defeated. "Alright, Thomas."

He nodded; she could hear him swallow in the complete silence as his laid-back facade faded, the noise undisturbed save for the soft crackling of the fireplace. He released his hold on the book."I'll... see you around, Y/N." He gave her one last, drained glance, before he turned, leaving her alone.

She didn't respond.

---------------

THOSE FINAL FEW minutes played on a loop in her head throughout the entirety of the next day, and the article she was writing didn't help -- every time she typed up any pieces of information about his funders, her mind regressed to his dark, quiet library, their soft banter as she learned he was sneaking off right in the middle of his own party. And with that, inevitably, came her picture-perfect memory of the heaviness of his gaze, the hurt that still lay dull in its depths. She didn't have any way to alleviate the guilt that rose from her stomach like bile.

She could only ruminate on that night for so long, though. That past Monday, when she'd asked, Mira had offered her residence in the flat above her diner. As a tenant, she'd still cover rent and utilities, but Mira had readily cut her a deal in the share of the bills she was paying -- one that made the small apartment more than affordable for her, and in exchange, her only new commitment was to closing up the diner in the evenings.

She'd spent the first half of the week moving in, and by Thursday, the space was finally livable. Angelica insisted on inviting herself and the Hamiltons over for a housewarming party that evening.

"This place is great, Y/N." Eliza smiled as Y/N emerged from her kitchen holding four glasses and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. (They'd all abstained from drinking in solidarity with Eliza.) Y/N didn't comment on how none of the furniture was different even in the slightest from when she'd lived with Angelica, that there wasn't anything new for her to have even been appreciating; she was too satisfied in having found a place at all.

"Glad you think so." She grinned as she passed around the drinks, ultimately taking a seat in the armchair beside the couch. "Moving was a bit of a pain, but I'm glad to be at my own place, now."

"Lafayette wasn't a good enough host?" Angelica interjected, a playful eyebrow raised. Y/N rolled her eyes.

"He was great, but staying with him was..." Images of Thomas walking in on her right out of the shower flashed in her mind. "Complicated."

"What do you mean, 'complicated'?" Alex asked with a wide smile, doing his best to derive some hidden meaning from her words. Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I mean I was freeloading in his expensive penthouse, Alex," she huffed, and he pursed his lips.

"It isn't freeloading if he's getting something out of it."

"And what exactly do you think he was getting out of it?" She narrowed her eyes, and he held up his hands in his own defense, shrugged innocently.

"I'm just saying!"

"Oh, don't you dare act like--"

"Enough, you two," Eliza cut them off with a tired stare. "We're here to celebrate Y/N finding her own place, not for you to bicker like children."

Though she was addressing both of them, her words were directed explicitly at Alex, her gaze burning into his. He gave a guilty simper.

"Of course not, love." He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, and she gave him an affectionate smile despite how she was shaking her head at his antics.

"How are you feeling about living alone, then, Y/N?" Eliza changed the subject readily, more than happy to alleviate any of the tension Alex had been building in the room.

"Not that this could ever meet the standard of living with me, she means," Angelica added, and Y/N grinned, gave a timid shrug.

"Well obviously the loss of Angelica is utterly heartbreaking," she lamented with a sigh, "But I guess besides that absolutely irreplaceable loss, it's pretty good, all things considered. It's a bit of a trade-off with the late evenings I'd otherwise spend at my office, but c'est la vie."

She gave a rather stiff smile, and Angelica reached over to squeeze her knee with an empathetic frown. "I'm sorry, honey. I know it's not easy for you to put something else before your career."

"Nah, it's alright, I'm just getting a well-needed break from the excitement, not screeching to a full halt. Besides, my article from today's been getting me more than enough love." Y/N paused, her fingertips tapping on her wineglass as her gaze fell to the floor; she'd done a marvelous job pushing them down, but once again, the reminder of the article had brought the previous night's events dangerously close to the surface of her mind. She pursed her lips absentmindedly. She couldn't seem to think straight when it came to her predicament. "Actually... Can I get a bit of advice?"

Her friends all shared an inquisitive glance, before Angelica spoke. "Always. What's up?"

She let out a soft sigh, finally looking up at them. "So... it's about someone who I met through work." Alex's eyebrows shot up. "It's really silly and menial but... I just wanted someone else's take on my situation."

"Everything alright?" Eliza's voice was soft but heavy with concern. Y/N cracked a smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, it's severely inconsequential." She took a deep breath as she tried to find the words for her situation that wouldn't immediately incriminate her. "There's just this person, and they're unfortunately incredibly hot, like undeniably attractive, and I'm having a really hard time not shamelessly throwing myself at them."

When she paused, Angelica furrowed her brow. To that point, her state of limbo didn't sound like much of an issue. She went on. "I also know they're into me, so it's not that I'm shooting for someone unattainable, but trying to screw them would make my life... complicated."

"Is it because you met them through your job?" Traces of suspicion leaked into Alex's tone, but Y/N was too focused on her deep-seated angst to notice. She nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, exactly, actually." He furrowed his brow. "Like, in another context, I'd totally hit that, but given the circumstances, it's a little riskier."

"Is it one of your co-workers?" Eliza asked, glancing at Angelica, who shrugged.

"If it was, I'd hope I'd know about it." Angelica took a sip of her drink, wearing a small frown, and Y/N shook her head.

"I'm not hooking up with a coworker, don't worry. It's nothing illicit."

"So who is it?" While Alex simply sounded curious, Y/N knew him well enough to detect the suspicion buried in the question.

"I'd really rather not say."

"It'd be easier to help you if we understood the situation a little bit better."

Y/N looked to him with a sigh. "Alex."

"C'mon, why can't you tell us?" He pressed, pursing his lips. "There's no way it's that embarrassing, Y/N. What, do we know them, or something?"

When she didn't answer, just biting her lip, his eyes widened. "Do we know them?"

She scowled. "It's not important! Can you just... help me? Who it is doesn't matter."

While Alex looked more than ready to continue to interrogate her, Eliza cut him off. "So how well do you really know them? How involved are they in your life?"

Y/N looked to her with a relieved smile, grateful that someone was taking her pseudo-sob story seriously. "I haven't known him that long. We met pretty soon after I started with my current assignment at the Post." (About an hour after, specifically, but who was counting?)

"So it's a 'him'!" Alex interjected unhelpfully.

"Yes, it's a 'him,' now stay focused." Y/N gave him a tired stare.

"And how long have you been, y'know," -- Angelica shrugged -- "trying to jump his bones."

Y/N laughed lightly at that. "I am not trying to jump his bones, Ang. I'm trying to figure out whether I should jump his bones."

"Fine, whatever." Angelica waved away the technicality impatiently. "How long have you been into him for?"

Y/N pursed her lips. "I mean, there's been some level of... tension," --she cringed at her own word choice-- "since day one, but I guess it's just been the past couple weeks that it became an issue."

"The past couple weeks... ?" Alex was more thinking out loud than actually inquiring, and Y/N rolled her eyes. She could see him trying to do the calculations in his head, as though he knew everywhere she'd been at all recently.

"What d'you mean, 'became an issue'?" Angelica's eyes were shining with the question, her eyebrows raised, and Y/N laughed.

"I came into this conversation asking about whether I should sleep with someone, and you're really trying to act like I'm being all coy about it?"

"Alright, fair enough, I'll give you that," Angelica conceded, grinning. "Have you actually had a chance to sleep with him yet, though?"

She tilted her head to the side, reflecting for a moment, and the list didn't take long to build -- his office, the hotel in Detroit, Lafayette's apartment, the back room of his estate, to name a few -- and she sighed.

"Once or twice, I guess."

"And what's been holding you back?" Eliza asked gently, and Y/N gave a small smile.

"That's exactly the problem: it's my career." She shook her head lightly. "I can't justify putting how horny I am before dreams as a journalist, but I'm not sure I can have both, either."

"How exactly would the relationship hurt your career?" Angelica asked. "You're being too vague."

"First off, it’s not a relationship," Y/N corrected her, bordering on exasperated. “He’s just hot. It’s not that deep.”

"Yeah, fine. Don't avoid the question."

There was a skip. Y/N chewed her bottom lip, considering. "I mean... it wouldn't destroy my career or anything. If something went bad, though, or I ended up burning a bridge, it'd get real awkward real fast."

"How often do you see him?" Alex spoke up that time, still appearing to be fixated on dissecting every detail of the situation. His eyes were narrowed, and Y/N ignored how his question was more probing than in an effort to help.

"I dunno," she shrugged, exhaled softly. "I've seen him at the past couple of events I've covered, and I've been seeing more of him outside of work ever since Detroit."

"Ever since Detroit," he repeated, a knowing smile growing on his lips. Y/N's stomach dropped. He couldn't know who she was talking about, right? He'd have looked absolutely appalled if he suspected anything close to the truth, or so she hoped. He chuckled. "You've really been denying being into Lafayette this whole time, and now you're asking us for advice on whether you should screw him?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up. "Hang on--"

"Oh my God, you're right," Angelica agreed, eyes wide, and Eliza cocked her head to the side, looking as though she thought the idea was more than reasonable. "The whole situation makes perfect sense."

"No, wait, I'm not--"

"First the gala, and then Detroit," Alex continued, undeterred by Y/N's pleas of innocence. "And 'seeing him more often outside of work'? You just spent a week sleeping at Laf's apartment. You'd have had more than enough opportunities to bone."

"That explains why you were so anxious to find a place!" Eliza looked fully convinced of the theory, by then, and Y/N groaned. "It would get awkward quickly if you tried to screw him and then keep living at his apartment for weeks afterward."

"You guys, I'm not fucking Lafayette."

"Not yet, anyway." Angelica grinned. "That's why you wanted advice, right?"

"And you were out with him last night!" Alex's eyes flashed victoriously. "The timing only makes perfect sense."

Y/N scowled. "Y'know what? It doesn't matter who you think it is."

"Sounds like an admission--"

"But," she cut Alex off with a pointed glare. "You have all the relevant information, and I still really need some input."

Her three friends shared a glance, all looking rather pleased. It was Eliza who finally spoke.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Y/N." Her voice was soft, reassuring. "Any relationship, professional, platonic, or otherwise, can go wrong without sex ever being an aspect of it. You can't let the inevitable risk hold you back from the things you want."

Y/N was silent another moment; she couldn't help but feel that the advice was colored by their unfortunate theory of who was behind her sudden need for advice on her sex life.

"Besides," Angelica added, "If you're seeing him at the campaign events you cover and outside of them, the sexual tension's just gonna make it weird until you bang it out." She rolled her eyes at the crude guidance, and Angelica just shrugged at the weak glare she gave her, taking another sip of her drink.

"This sounds like suspicious logic."

"She's kinda right, Y/N," Alex agreed, nodding to Angelica. "It's awkward now, and the worst-case scenario after you two fucked would be awkwardness later on. Nothing to lose."

"I never said it was awkward now," she protested, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Is it?" He took her lack of a response as an answer in the affirmative.

She huffed at how smug he looked. "Most of this advice only applies if it's Lafayette."

"Perfect."

"Alex," she seethed, her tired glare burning into his nonchalant expression. "What about giving me some advice for the off-chance I just might not be referring to him, hm?"

Angelica shrugged. "The same doctrine follows, doesn't it? There's always a risk, and it's already awkward."

There was truth to her words. However, what Y/N hadn't and couldn't have shared was exactly how it would reflect on both her and the man in question if anyone were to find out they were sleeping together -- the Republican frontrunner screwing his most outspoken critic. She knew it'd raise eyebrows, she knew it would hurt both their careers, but was the risk real enough that it was worth placing at the crux of her decision?

Eliza was the one who eventually pulled her from her train of thought, reaching out to squeeze her arm reassuringly. "Hey. We support you no matter what decision you make, but it really seems like there isn't a downside to going for what you want here."

"Yeah?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yeah." She lifted her eyes to meet Eliza's gaze as she continued. "Now, it just comes down to you deciding whether this is something you really want."

She wasn't sure she bought into the idea of it as being as simple as that. It felt reductionist; it felt like it ignored all the variables she'd spent hours upon hours weighing in her own head.

However, if that really was the question, she knew without a doubt exactly where she stood.

-------------

Y/N WAS GETTING incredibly sick of leaning against the metal counter of the diner kitchen, counting down the seconds until she could actually close down for the night.

It was finally Friday, the end of her work week, and she was absolutely dying to finally reach the end of her shift. She was still waiting on a batch of brownies from the oven behind her, finishing up with washing the dishes to occupy her time, but no matter how she tried to distract herself, time only seemed to slow, taunting her. The keys to the diner were in her pocket; her fingers itched to turn the lock on the front door.

She checked her watch again. 9:56 PM.

The diner closed at 10.

She groaned as her watch didn't move any faster, glanced out the kitchen window to see that the last customer had already cleared out. She was growing tired, in part due to lack of sleep, but mostly, she was tired of her week of tearing her hair out in stress. Out the front window of the diner, she could see it still snowing; there was no way anyone was going to come through the blizzard less than five minutes before closing and demand service.

Her over timer pinged. She put down the mug she'd been drying and withdrew her tray, setting it on a cooling rack for the time being, and put the now-clean mug back on its shelf. She picked up another glass. The monotony was grating on her nerves, but she'd promised Mira she wouldn't close the diner until 10 PM sharp, so there she was.

She racked the glass. She reached for another. She dried it. She racked the glass. She reached for another.

Just as she began to wipe down the rim, though, the bell above the front door rang. Her grip on the cup tightened, frustration and disappointment shooting through her veins.

"Three minutes to closing," she called out from where she stood, trying (and failing) to keep the exasperated warning from her tone. With a sigh, she retied her apron and started toward the kitchen door.

"I know, I know." Whoever had decided to ruin her evening had the audacity to sound defensive. She furrowed her brow as she turned, beginning to push the door with her back as she finished cleaning the cup. The voice was eerily familiar. "'M just lookin' for a cup of coffee, and I'll be outta your hair."

With how preoccupied she was, though, she couldn't place where she knew it from until she saw him, looking as fatigued as she as he came in toward the counter, burrowed in his winter coat. She tried not to let her disbelief show across her face.

"Thomas?"

It wasn't until then that he saw her, either, emerging from the back with a skeptical gaze. He froze altogether; his eyebrows shot up. "Y/N. Hey. I, ah... I was expectin' Mira to be here." His voice was soft, and she looked at him expectantly for another moment, waiting, before he blinked hard, and continued. "...I can go, if you really... I mean I know you're just tryin' to close, and I don't wanna... I just, I--"

"It's fine." The words sounded at least as tired as she felt as she cut off his rambling. She reluctantly continued toward the front counter, and hesitantly, he did the same. She discarded the cup she'd been washing on a shelf along the back wall. "How do you take your coffee?"

Though she huffed internally, she tried to ignore it when she realized that she'd just washed the coffee pot not five minutes before. While she started brewing his drink, he took a seat in one of the stools across the counter from her.

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged, wary. His qualms were still written clearly in his gaze. "Whatever's easiest."

As he'd had no problem coming in three minutes before she intended to close the diner down, his sudden respect for her time made her roll her eyes. She glanced back over her shoulder as the coffee began to drip, giving him a flat look. "Thomas. It's just cream and sugar. I promise it isn't life-changing. Just tell me."

When she raised her eyebrows, he reluctantly said, "One cream, two sugars?" She nodded, bending over to pull a mug from the cabinet below. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Though he couldn't see it, she wore a small smile as she drew back to her full height. Fatigue was heavy in his quiet voice. "It's nothing."

The silence stretched on as neither of them seemed to know quite what to say. Thomas's gaze was set on Y/N as she walked behind the counter; the only sounds were the soft thud of the bag of sugar on the counter, the click as the refrigerator door fell shut, and the clink of ceramics. She pulled the pot of coffee from where it'd been brewing, and the plink of the drink against the bottom of the cup grew higher as she poured. When she reached for the sugar, she again looked over her shoulder, and she found him watching her.

"Am I allowed to ask what you're doing here at 10 PM on a Friday?"

"Technically, I got here at 9:57," he said matter-of-factly, and she cracked a smile, sliding open the silverware drawer to withdraw a spoon.

"Then what about what you're doing here at 9:57 on a Friday?" Her tone was mocking as she looked back at him, and despite the sleep in his gaze, he grinned.

"'M here for coffee, of course." He shrugged when she turned to him with the full mug, unamused -- the 'duh' at the end of the sentence was implied heavily in his tone.

As he gladly accepted the piping hot coffee from her, taking a delicate sip, wincing at the temperature, she raised an eyebrow and leaned across from him on the counter. "And you couldn't have gotten coffee anywhere else right now? Dunkin' Donuts? Your house?"

"Not this coffee."

"You mean the coffee I just brewed in a pot for, like, three minutes?" He nodded earnestly, and when she gave him a dramatically disbelieving stare, he shrugged, holding up his hands in defense.

"What? Mira roasts her own coffee. Can't find it anywhere else." He looked her up and down dubiously as though questioning why she could ever think his late-night pit stop wasn't justified. "And she won't sell me any without me comin' here every time I want it."

"So you'd have no issue busting in here right now if it was just Mira?"

"Somethin' like that."

Y/N furrowed her brow, leaning down onto her forearms. He looked nonchalant as he took another small sip of his drink despite the suspicion in her eyes. "When did you start coming here, anyway? Mira's annoyingly taken with you."

He grinned, his cocky lilt restored to his voice. "Can't help bein' such a charmer." When she scowled, rolled her eyes as she turned to put away the sugar and milk, he continued. "Three or four months. Stopped in here for a quick cup of coffee on my way outta work one night, and couldn't help stayin'."

"The coffee's that good?" she asked, cocking a disbelieving brow. He shrugged.

"And the atmosphere. Mira's a real sweetheart; she's always good to me."

"So, what, you and she are just best friends now?"

"Jealous?" His eyes flashed playfully. Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Of you or of her?" she teased.

A wide grin broke through his expression at that. "Either one."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Hate to disappoint, but it's neither." She bit back a laugh at how hurt he looked; the pout he plastered on. "Anyway, is that why you're trying to crash the closing shift? Wanted to spend some quality time with Mira?"

He shrugged, unabashed. "More or less."

She nodded, the corners of her lips quirked up. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You could never."

Y/N had to laugh at how contrived his conviction was, at what bordered on offense in his voice even at the idea of it, and the sound made him smile. "Thanks, Thomas."

She rolled her eyes as she turned to the shelves, finishing with the cup she'd been wiping down before he'd showed up, and she unplugged the coffee pot. As she began to wipe down the back counter, he spoke. "Should I get goin' then?" When she raised a questioning eyebrow at his sudden change of tune, glanced back at him, he added, "I mean, since I missed Mira 'n' all, and I don't wanna hold you up here later than I already have, I just thought--"

"That's alright. We're out of to-go cups for the rest of your coffee, anyway." When he didn't respond, she finally turned around, wiping her hands on the rag she'd been using to clean. She wore a teasing grin. "Or are you just that anxious to get away from me, hm?"

"'Course not." His smile broadened to match hers as she rested her hands on the counter before him. "Just figured you were countin' down the seconds till you could get rid of me."

"Don't worry, I don't have the patience to count by seconds." Y/N shrugged. "I've been counting by minutes, instead."

"Aw, sweetheart, I'm hurt." He put an offended hand to his heart, drawing back from her where he sat. "Thought we were friends."

She huffed out an involuntary laugh. "Shut up and drink your coffee."

She went back to her tasks with that, shaking her head lightly, tongue in cheek to stifle her amusement. She heard him take another sip of his drink, but when the cup met the saucer, he asked, "What smells so good?"

Her eyebrows shot up as she glanced back into the kitchen. "Oh, right, almost forgot about those." She looked over her shoulder at him. "I've been making brownies, still need to cut them." While he nodded indifferently, there was a wistful look in his eyes as he sat up straighter on his stool to see into the kitchen. She folded her arms. "You want one?"

His eyebrows shot up, and his gaze snapped to where she stood. "Really?"

She shrugged, mildly amused. "Sure. Since I can't seem to get rid of you, anyway."

"That's tough!" he called after her, offended, as she exited into the kitchen, laughing lightly.

She emerged not minutes later, holding two of the brownies; they were still just slightly warm from the oven, so cutting them was no ordeal. She pursed her lips. Thomas's mouth was all but watering as she walked back toward the counter, handing him the napkin one of them was housed atop.

"Enjoy," she commented mildly, suppressed her amusement at the longing in his eyes for the dessert.

"Thanks, sweetheart." His voice was soft. She pushed herself up to sit on the back counter as she ate hers, and when she looked back up, she saw him bite into the dessert, a soft moan escaping his lips. She laughed.

"Is it that good?"

"'S incredible," he mumbled, covering his mouth as he tried to speak, before he swallowed. "Shit, Y/N."

"You're just flattering me because I'm not booting you out of here, but I'll take it anyway."

While she looked rather pleased, he frowned. "You accusin' me of bein' ingenuine?"

"Where did you ever get that idea?" she asked sarcastically, shaking her head. He scowled.

"Hurtful."

"I'm sure."

He put the brownie back on the counter, took another sip of his coffee. "How'd you end up workin' here, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I've told you about my most recent financial crisis. I needed a second source of income."

"Why here, though?" He cocked his head to the side, and she raised an eyebrow, not quite following the aim behind the question. "I just mean, I haven't seen you around here until the past week or so. Was it just 'cause they were hirin'?"

She gave a small smile. "Not quite. Mira and Orlando are my godparents."

His eyebrows shot up. "Yeah?" When she nodded, a small grin formed on his lips. "That why you're so jealous of me and Mira bondin'?"

She rolled her eyes. "Like you could ever replace me?"

He shrugged noncommittally, making Y/N scowl. "I dunno, sweetheart. She and I are gettin' pretty close."

"Get your own mother figure, Jefferson."

"Aw, c'mon now, don't be greedy." He grinned at how progressively annoyed she was beginning to look. "What? Why should you get two mother figures and I don't?" She wasn't quite following his line of reasoning as she cocked an eyebrow, and he shrugged. "Don't have a godmother, feels like fair game to me."

When she didn't answer, he creased his forehead. His voice was hesitant. "Y/N?"

Another beat passed, before she raked a hand through her hair, offering him a smile. "I guess so."

With how weary she suddenly sounded, though, he didn't leave it at that. "What is it you're not tellin' me here?"

She cracked a grin as she met his eyes, amused by how he was looking at her. "Don't look so worried. Geez, Thomas. Mira and Orlando raised me, alright? That's all." She pushed herself off the back counter to discard her napkin.

However, as Y/N walked back toward where he sat at the counter, Thomas bit his lip. Her forced nonchalance didn't seem to quell his concern. "'M I allowed to ask why?"

She shrugged, but her voice grew quiet as she leaned onto the counter. "My parents passed on when I was pretty young." She chose not to meet his eyes, swallowing as she fiddled anxiously with her watch. "Mira and Orlando took me in, so they're all I've had for a family most of my life."

"What happened?" he asked softly. One of his large hands enveloped hers on the counter, and his touch was tentative, nervous, waiting for her to brush him off. When she didn't, he squeezed her hand lightly, and she looked up at him with a sad smile.

"Cancer." He looked crestfallen; she just pursed her lips. "Dad got sick when I was around ten. He was in and out of the hospital for a few years, and my mom spent most of her time with him, getting him treatment, taking care of him, waiting at his bedside. When she wasn't with him, she was working overtime to pay his medical bills. I was alone at home almost every night, so I started going to sleep at Mira and Orlando's when I was twelve."

Y/N's chest was tight. When Thomas didn't interrupt her, just watching her, waiting patiently, she bit her lip, apprehensive to continue. When he didn't fill the growing silence, she went on. "We thought Dad made a full recovery when I was thirteen, but by my fourteenth birthday, Mom was diagnosed. And it just felt like the same thing all over again."

She swallowed hard; tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she forced a smile, blinking hard, and huffed out a laugh despite herself. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to launch into a monologue on my childhood trauma. You don't need to listen to the full story just to be polite."

"'S alright." He offered her a soft smile, and when he brushed his thumb over her knuckle, she found herself squeezing his hand in return, a silent 'thank you.' "Go on. 'M listenin'."

She hesitated another moment when she saw the worry that clouded his gaze. “You sure?” He nodded with full conviction, and though her reluctance didn’t clear, she went on. "...Right. Then, well, after that, Mom was in chemo, and about five months later, Dad had a flare-up. Hospitalized him immediately. That's when I started living with the Murillos full time."

"Mira and Orlando?" he questioned, and she nodded.

"They got me through high school. I visited my parents when I could, but life went on, and as far as I knew, they were recovering." She shrugged, but her tone grew spiteful. She rarely talked about her parents, didn't want to think of how unfair fate had been to her growing up. "My junior year, they passed on within eight months of each other."

She pressed her lips together, and Thomas didn't release her hand. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, and she gave a soft smile, finally looking back up at him.

"It's alright, really." She shrugged, but she didn't move, didn't break his gaze. "It's been more than ten years. I miss them, but I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"I've had a decade to mourn them, and even though grief doesn't ever really leave, it subsides. I'm just fine."

He nodded as she gave him a mournful smile, and alongside the empathy in his gaze, she couldn't help but notice his own sadness shining through. "I know what you mean," he said softly, and Y/N tilted her head to the side.

"Yeah?" As far as she knew, Thomas wasn't an orphan, and she'd done extensive research into his background.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. "Just... about grief never quite leavin'." She waited for him to elaborate, and it wasn't until she raised an eyebrow that he did. "I mean, it's normal. You still think about them every day? Wonder what they'd think about you if they were here now? Feel like you still owe them something, like you have to live your life as though they're around?"

She frowned. "Yeah, exactly." He nodded, and she furrowed her brow. Hesitantly, she asked in a quiet voice, "Thomas, who have you lost?"

He shrugged as he released her hand, instead taking a sip of his coffee. He seemed like he almost thought better of giving her an answer for a moment, but then he spoke. "My fiancée died when I was twenty-three."

"That's terrible." Y/N's brow had immediately knit; she rested on her hands at the edge of the counter. When Thomas saw how she was looking at him, the sadness in her eyes, he chuckled despite himself.

"Wasn't the best time of my life, if I'm honest."

"I'd imagine." His smile was warm at the dry quip as he looked down into his coffee absentmindedly. He didn't look up, never saw the concern in her eyes. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Was a freak accident. Came outta the blue a year after we moved in together." He let out a bitter exhale, somewhere between a huff and a mirthless laugh. "She was hit by a drunk driver, and it took her life on impact. I couldn't handle it."

It was her turn to take his hand, then. He'd begun to withdraw. Vulnerability showed through his gaze, through his clenched jaw, through his antsy, almost undetectable movements. He looked up at her, when she did, and she weaved her fingers through his.

"Of course you couldn't, Thomas." She put her other hand atop where she held his. "No one would be able to. Mourning doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. It also means you were strong enough to carry on."

"I wish I had." He looked dejected, by then, almost apathetic as he reflected. When she looked at him questioningly, she could hear him swallow thickly. "I didn't carry on. I ran. Moved away before her funeral 'cause I couldn't stand to see her casket. I didn't grieve for almost three years, just came to DC and started pourin' myself into my work."

"And what's wrong with that, hm?" His eyes had dropped again, and she leaned down into his line of vision, broke his absent stare. "Hey. What's so wrong with that?"

He let out a shaky sigh. "Never honored her memory. Didn't go to her grave or talk to her family until years after she was gone."

"You were trying to cope. That's all you can do. Everyone deals with loss differently."

"But she didn't deserve that," he pressed. She creased her forehead; concern rested in her eyes.

"But what about what you deserved, Thomas?" He cocked his head to one side; his gaze was brimming with inquisition. "Don't you deserve to take care of your own needs? Do you really think she would've wanted you falling apart?"

"Sweetheart, 'm not the one who was killed."

"You don't deserve to suffer just because you're the one who lived."

"But I shoulda been there, at her funeral, at her grave." He drew in a shaky breath. "Feels like I abandoned her."

You did what you needed to do," Y/N insisted. "Wherever she is now, whatever afterlife you believe in, or don't believe in, she obviously hasn't been forgotten."

He nodded, sniffed as he pulled back. He rubbed the corner of his eye, taking a breath, and she didn't comment on it. He ran a hand through his hair as he forced his composure, restored his easygoing manner. His grin was back as though it'd never been gone. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

They shared a smile for a moment, and he pursed his lips. "Can I... ask you not to do anythin' with this?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "What d'you mean?"

"We were never married, so almost no one knows about her, other than close friends and family." He sighed. "'S not information you can find online. And I just..." He trailed off as he looked up at her, tone tentative. "I know you're a journalist 'n' all, but please, can I ask you not to take this to the press?"

While anxiety was clear in his gaze, her eyes were wide, surprised that he thought he even needed to ask. "Of course, Thomas. I would never. It's safe with me."

"Thank you." A beat passed as she just stared into his eyes; with how he was day-to-day, with what she knew of him before, she could've never guessed how much pain he carried with him. He exhaled softly, gave her a grateful smile.

His trance seemed to break a few seconds later when she reached out to lightly squeeze his hand. He shifted in his seat, glanced at the clock above the kitchen door. "Shit, sweetheart, it's almost 10:40. You've gotta be dyin' to kick me outta here."

An apologetic grin accompanied his words, but as he searched her expression for some kind of response, Y/N recognized his question for what it was -- if he'd really wanted to go, he'd have already been pulling himself up, but did she want him to stay?

She shrugged, wearing a kind smile. "I mean, until our final customer is gone, I can't technically close up." He raised an eyebrow. "So really, I'm in no position to be kicking you out."

He shook his head, amusement slowly being restored to his features. "Really, now? An hour ago, you couldn't wait to get rid of me."

"Maybe I was just a worse employee an hour ago."

He laughed. "Aw, someone's gettin' attached, huh?"

She deadpanned as she met his shining eyes. His tone was nothing but teasing. "I take it all back. Get out. Go on."

"Aw, c'mon, sugar, I'm just kiddin'," he pleaded, though he showed no traces of regret. Y/N fixed him with a tired stare.

"You know where to find the door."

"Now, really?" he pouted, brow knit, and she rolled her eyes. "What'd I do to deserve this, hm?"

She scowled, though the amusement she tried to hold back lay clearly in her soft gaze. "Do you really want an answer to that?"

He seemed to think better of it at her words, and quickly changed tacts. "What about the rest of my coffee?"

"Dumping it out. No problem." She shrugged, and he huffed, giving her a fully manufactured look of disappointment.

"Thought we were connectin', and now this is how you treat me?" She held her skeptical stare, and a grin broke through his facade. "Now, what's Mira gonna think when I tell her you kicked out her favorite customer?"

Y/N regarded him wearily, in no mood for his schtick. His eyes were gleaming; he looked up at her with warmth coloring his gaze, and ultimately, when she found no malice in his stare, no ill intent, nothing but goodwill, she huffed.

"Fine. Whatever. Finish the coffee. In the meantime, since apparently, you're shamelessly becoming a parasite, I'm gonna get myself something to eat. You gonna want anything so I can save myself the extra trip?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Wouldn't mind another brownie."

"And now what's Mira gonna think when she realizes all of our bakery is gone tomorrow?" She folded her arms, turning his own words back on him, but he was unfazed.

"That you gave it to her favorite customer, of course."

--------------

AND AS THE night slowly stretched on, the pair went on like that for more than another hour, recounting their pasts to one another, each passing judgment on the terrible haircuts the other had in the 90s, reminiscing on college. Y/N was surprised to hear Thomas played the violin (she couldn't tell whether he was joking when he offered to play for her sometime); Thomas couldn't help but poke fun at her when he learned she wrote sappy poetry in high school (and in turn, she threatened again to kick him out). They always seemed to find an excuse for him to hang around just a little longer.

Eventually, midnight struck; both Y/N's and Thomas's attention was drawn to the little clock above the door that finally chimed.

They met each other's eyes for a moment, and while Y/N just waited expectantly, letting him make the call on his next move, Thomas sighed.

"I really should head out, sweetheart."

Y/N smiled softly; her teasing expression couldn't seem to mask the affection dancing in her eyes. "Finally. Can't close until you're outta here, remember? It's kinda rude that you didn't leave earlier, really."

He scoffed, despite that there was no real scorn in her gaze, and raised a brow. "Mm, and it was really rude of me to accept the coffee, and brownies, and leftovers you kept offerin' me every time I tried to leave."

"You didn't put up much of a fight, to be fair." She pursed her lips, giving him a pointed look, and he chuckled.

"Won't deny it."

She'd long since finished wiping everything down, including the dishes she'd been giving Thomas, and though she was far from pushing him out the door, she wasn't going to resist some much-needed sleep.

Thomas finally stood up from his stool, fished his wallet out of his coat pocket. "How much do I owe you?" He glanced back up from where he was leafing through bills, and Y/N shrugged, wearing a small smile.

"This one's on the house."

His eyebrows shot up. "You sure?"

"Mhm." She nodded, cracked a lopsided grin as she still leaned against the counter. "Consider it payback for the century-old book I've got stashed upstairs."

"Upstairs?" he repeated quizzically, and she nodded.

"Yeah, didn't I mention? This was the housing plan I figured out," she told him. "Mira cut me a deal in exchange for taking the late shift every night."

"Every night, huh?" he asked, mischief creeping into his expression. She raised a suspicious brow. "So you're tellin' me, if I was gonna show up at 9:58 next Friday--"

"Don't you dare!" she warned him, but when he laughed, his smile was contagious. "I'm gonna have to start closing up at 9:56 here on out."

"I can adjust." He sent her a wink before tucking his wallet back into his pocket, glancing out at the snowstorm beyond the store windows. Y/N was shivering just looking at it. He pursed his lips. "You sure you've got no to-go cups left?"

"No more coffee, Thomas," she said sternly, giving him a pointed look.

"Alright, alright! Geez," he laughed. "Guess I'll just have to show up tomorrow three minutes before openin' huh?"

She shrugged. "Be my guest; I don't work Saturday mornings."

"Noted. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out your schedule."

"That anxious to see me again?" She cocked her head to the side, smug, and he winked.

"Always." He exhaled softly before finally turning toward the exit. "I'll see you around?"

"You know where to find me." He nodded, chuckled as he tucked his hands in his pockets, burrowing into his coat as he neared the door. "G'night, Thomas."

He cast her one final glance over his shoulder, eyes shining. "Night, sweetheart."

She shuddered at the gust of cold air that entered the diner upon his exit, finally going to lock up the front, drawing the shades before she went up to her flat. The brownies she'd made were put away, the chairs were all up; she did one final, brief sweep of the place, and hit the light.

She couldn't deny her fatigue as she reached her apartment, locking the front door behind her, but after discarding her apron into her hamper, she made the executive decision that she needed to shower before she could go to sleep. She'd been going all day long and had begun to smell like a mix of old ham, coffee, and melted chocolate -- three good things in isolation, but not quite something she’d be purchasing as a Dior fragrance anytime soon.

She emerged from the shower less than half an hour later, and though it'd woken her up just a bit, it was nice to feel clean, putting on clean pajamas, being in her clean apartment.

She was just on the inoperational side of sleepy as she walked back to her room, yawning into one of her sweater paws, checking her phone once more for the night, going through the notifications from the past few hours.

She was already burrowed halfway under her blankets when she saw the message that made her freeze. It was on her Twitter account.

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: are you still up

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry about this

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: but my car won't start

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im still out in your parking lot

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: think the weather broke something in the engine

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry to ask this

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: but if you're awake, would u be willing to let me back in ?

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: just real quick i swear

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: please it's less than freezing out here

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry about this y/n

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: really i dont mean to take advantage of your hospitality

@Thomas_Jefferson is typing...

Her eyes widened; her eyebrows shot up. She was already in bed, she was dying to finally just get some sleep, but she couldn't just leave him out in the cold knowing she was the only one around to help him out. She sighed.

@Y/N_L/N sent: jesus christ, thomas stop rambling

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry

@Y/N_L/N sent: relax, ill come down to let you in now

She huffed as she pulled herself out of bed, bringing one blanket with her to the stairs, mildly bleary-eyed.

Once again, her phone pinged.

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: thank you

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: ill come to your door

Sure enough, when she made it down, shifted the blinds to peer through, ensure that it was actually Thomas and that she wasn't about to get abducted in her booty shorts and men's XL college sweatshirt, she saw him standing there, shivering, and her eyes widened. She rushed to unlock the front door, and Thomas didn't waste a second coming in.

"Jesus, sweetheart, I can't thank you enough." He let out a deep breath, seemingly reveling in the warmth of the room. She closed the door quickly behind him, though the wind certainly put up a fight. "'M so sorry about this. Really, if I could fix it now, I would, but I think somethin' in the motor froze while I was parked out there for a couple hours. I--"

"It's ok, Thomas," Y/N said softly, doing her best not to sound as though she was half asleep, and she pulled her blanket tighter around herself. "Really. I'd rather you not freeze to death; it'd put a bit of a damper on my career."

He grinned. "So self-centered."

She scowled. "Go back outside."

He laughed as he unbuttoned his coat, tucked his gloves in his pocket and withdrew his phone. "Did I wake you up?" He eyed her choice of attire dubiously, looking amused, and she shifted her blanket to cover her shorts.

"Nah, I was just on my phone in bed. You're fine."

"...Right." She ignored his disbelieving tone.

"How long were you out there for before you messaged me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He sighed.

"'Bout half an hour. 'M sorry, I couldn't take the cold any longer."

"Don't apologize, geez," she huffed. "You think I'd have rathered you stayed in your icebox of a car and said nothing?"

"I'm gonna guess by your tone that it's a no, but I gotta say, I wasn't so sure."

"Oh, shut up!" Y/N scowled, and he grinned. "Can I call someone for you? A tow truck? A mechanic?" She asked, rubbing the side of her nose, eyebrows raised, and Thomas shook his head.

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it." He seemed engrossed in whatever he was typing into his phone, staring down at it intently and hardly sparing her a glance as he furrowed his brow. "I'm gonna call myself an Uber. I'll be outta your hair in five minutes, and I'll come by to get my car in the morning. That ok?"

She nodded, hardly even processing his words. "Yeah. Yeah, fine."

She stifled another yawn as he grew increasingly frustrated with his app. Several moments passed; she saw him repeatedly pressing the same button with no increasing degree of success. It took him longer than it should've to admit defeat, letting out a sigh.

"Everything ok?"

He shook his head. "Uber isn't runnin' in this storm. Can I take you up on that tow truck?"

"Yeah, d'you want the number?"

"Please." His expression plainly revealed his increasing desperation as she pulled up the contact in her phone, rattled off the digits to him.

She spaced out gradually after taking a seat on one of the stools by the counter, absentmindedly watching him make the call. His relief was written clearly in his eyes when someone answered, and she listened to him go back and forth with the person on the other end of the line at such an ungodly hour. Whoever it was didn't seem to have any more patience than Thomas. It wasn't until he was cut off mid-sentence that his face finally fell.

"Yeah, yeah, I understand," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You have a good night, now."

"Bad news?" Y/N raised an eyebrow when he finally hung up the call. He looked to her with pursed lips.

"The roads are closed through downtown 'cause of a severe weather warnin'." Her eyebrows shot up, and he let out a defeated sigh. "I'm so sorry; 'm sure I have someone in the area who I can call and just walk over to. Gimme a few more minutes."

While he searched frantically through his phone, brow knit in worry, she could see the panic beginning to show through. She pursed her lips. His solution seemed flawed at best and downright suicidal at worst; the weather was brutal. "Thomas," she began, swallowing her qualms, but she didn't get a chance to go on, not in the midst of his rising anxiety

"You know of any hotels close to here, sweetheart? Even just--"

"There aren't any, Thomas," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. She knew she had to offer him residence for the night, by then, but exhaustion colored her reluctance.

"How far d'you suppose the nearest is?" He raised an eyebrow, glancing up. "'Cause I can walk to some--"

"Thomas." She looked at him tiredly. "I live upstairs."

He blinked, hesitant to draw the only clear conclusion from what she was saying, too afraid of the idea that he could've been being presumptuous. "...Okay?"

Her gaze was flat. "Just come crash at my apartment for the night. I have the space; I can't let you try to walk seven miles in the storm to some dingy B&B."

He bit his lip; he appeared anxious to accept her offer. "Listen, I don't wanna impose, sweetheart; I can--"

"You aren't imposing. Calm down." He raised an eyebrow; tentativeness still lay in his gaze, but he seemed to be realizing the futility of his situation. "I'm offering, alright?"

He paused. "You don't have to take me in just cause--"

"Thomas." She huffed, cutting him off for what she hoped was the final time. "Stop worrying about it. Seriously. If it'd really make you that uncomfortable, I guess I could bring a pillow down here for you to sleep on the floor, if that was what you really wanted, but otherwise, just come upstairs."

He raised his eyebrows, and his voice was quiet when he spoke. "You sure?"

She chuckled. "I'm sure. Now, stop making such a big deal of it. C'mon."

She nodded toward the staircase before going back to lock the front door to the diner, and she hit the lights again as he followed her up. "Thank you so much, Y/N, really, I--"

"What'd I just say about making a big deal out of it, hm?" She glanced back at him as they reached the top of the spiral staircase up to her apartment, and she unlocked the door. He gave a soft smile.

"Still, sweetheart. Thank you."

"It's not a problem," she chuckled. He came alongside her through the entrance, and she shut her front door behind him as he glanced around the flat curiously.

"What should I do with my coat?"

"Just put it on one of the hooks by the mirror. Leave your shoes wherever; it doesn't really matter." She flipped the kitchen light on as she walked in. "So, the couch is a pull-out; if you're still up when I go to sleep, the bedding and mattress pad are in the closet at the back of the hall. The bathroom is also back there, first door on your left, and you're welcome to help yourself to anything from the kitchen."

He raised an eyebrow as he shrugged off his coat, kicked off his shoes. "You got any more of those brownies up here?" he asked innocently.

Y/N paused where she stood, sending him a warning look. "That better be a joke."

"Of course, sugar." He'd begun wandering through her sitting room while she poured herself a drink. "Seriously, though, were you goin' to sleep when I messaged you? Don't wanna keep you up any later than I already have."

She shrugged. Despite her exhaustion, despite how she knew it'd have been impossible for him not to catch onto her fatigue, going to sleep didn't seem like the best of her options -- first off, she felt guilty to try and leave him alone there when he was all hopped up on caffeine, but second, and far more importantly, she didn't want to leave all her personal possessions out for him to poke through. (He'd probably go poking around, too, and she wouldn't blame him in the slightest; it wasn't like she hadn't dug through his belongings before.)

She finally answered, "Nah, not just yet. Was gonna pour myself a glass of wine, though; you want any while I'm at it?"

He hummed, considering it as she reached up for the bottle where she'd stashed it. "Wouldn't mind one."

So with that, she withdrew two glasses, pouring her cheap Cabernet Sauvignon out for the pair of them. With a sigh, she discarded her blanket on the side of the rug next to the couch, unable to carry both glasses along with it.

When she rejoined him, he stood before her bookshelf, arms crossed, leaning forward ever-so-slightly to get a better look at the titles.

"See anything you like?"

Her voice made him turn, matching her smile as he accepted the glass of wine. "I just might." His playful wink as he looked her over made her laugh. "Thanks for this, by the way."

She shrugged as he nodded to the drink she'd poured, lifting her own glass to her lips. "It's no Sassicaia, but it does the trick."

He took a sip, the corners of his lips quirking up. "Could be worse."

Though her gaze drifted to the bookshelf before him, she laughed lightly. "What high praise," she commented dryly.

"Isn't it?" Thomas grinned, glancing down at her, and she rolled her eyes. Her reaction didn't seem to deter him, though. "'M kiddin'," he reassured her, as though she'd taken any sort of offense at the statement. "Really, hope you know how grateful I am for all this."

His tone was light as he gestured to the room around them. While he seemed unfazed, Y/N couldn't help but feel absurd, as though the whole situation still could've been some strange, lucid dream.

"Ah, yes, I'm such a guardian angel," she agreed, tone dry with sarcasm. "I've provided an old mattress and an eight-dollar bottle of wine. You really struck it lucky."

He gave a cheeky grin. "The company more than makes up for it."

She scoffed, shaking her head, but she didn't suppress her growing smile. "You really owe me big, then."

"I'll find a way to pay you back."

She took another sip of her wine, and for once, the warmth blossoming in her chest wasn't just fast-acting heartburn from having cheaped out on dollar-store alcohol. She watched him another moment, waited to speak until he finally met her gaze. "Anything on my bookshelf holding your interest?"

His shrug revealed next to nothing. "No surprises here."

"Oh, because you know my taste in literature so well?" Her skepticism made him smile. Really, any resistance she provided didn't come from him being incorrect, but instead from how uneasy his discerning gaze made her; he spoke as though he could see right through her, as though he'd long since figured out what makes he tick. She couldn't help but feel exposed.

"You're easier to read than you think, sweetheart." She didn't answer, but instead raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to go on. "Keats, Austen, Plath..." He quirked a brow. "... seven different copies of The Princess Bride."

"Hey, it's a classic!" she defended, and he laughed.

"'Course it is." He took a sip of his drink, eyes shining. "It's interestin', though."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Rest of this apartment is almost completely bare, but this bookshelf is almost overflowin'."

She cocked her head. "Care to enlighten me on what makes that so interesting?"

"'S just predictable." He shrugged, his gaze turning to Y/N with a small smile. "Says somethin' about your priorities, huh? Nothin' you need straightened out."

His wink made her grin. "And who gave you the right to come into my home and judge my lifestyle?"

"Hey, I'm just validatin' you," he defended. "Besides, last I checked, you gave me that right by invitin' me up here."

Y/N huffed at how pleased he looked with himself, going to take a seat on her couch behind him. He raised an eyebrow as she did, and when his gaze followed her, he found himself turning, leaning against the bookshelf as she addressed him. "Don't make me regret it when you've hardly been up here for ten minutes."

"Aw, but I'm touched by how much you care, savin' me from the storm."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I didn't want you to freeze to death, try not to let it go to your head."

"But sweetheart, you saved my life; how could I not be forever in your debt?" At that point, he was playing up his gratitude, having plastered on a full pout, wearing a wistful expression, and Y/N hoped in vain that her amusement didn't show on her face.

"Don't be so dramatic; I just saved my career." She hid her smile behind the rim of her glass.

"C'mon, do I really mean that little to you?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

He laughed, coming back around to join her on the couch. "I'm gonna let that one go, just cause I know you don't mean it."

"...Right." The couch cushions dipped beside her as he sat, and she shifted, turned to him, pulling a leg up beside her onto her seat. He raised a dubious eyebrow before taking another sip of wine.

"You really expect me to believe that?" While his voice was light, the question itself wasn't in jest. The fact that she chose to ignore her adamant attraction to him didn't make it any less obvious, apparently -- it was forever bubbling just below the surface, hanging tense in the air between them. She sighed.

"Alright, I guess you caught me. It's true, my motives aren't purely selfish. I confess." She looked him in the eye with faux solemnity. "I'm also trying to save James and Dolley from having to plan a funeral."

He only shook his head, amused. She was deflecting again, and not subtly, either. Thomas was trying to tread lightly, but she wasn't making it easy on him. "Ever the humanitarian."

"I do try." His gaze was growing empty as she held his eyes. He looked as though his mind was elsewhere. When she drank more of her wine, eyeing him, he hadn't moved a muscle, his expression was blank. "Thomas?"

He blinked hard when she waved her hand in front of him, forcing a wide smile. "Sorry, sweetheart, just spaced out a minute."

"What are you thinking about?" The question was innocent, but it made him tense. He shrugged, pausing a moment.

"Just wonderin' where you got that century-old book of Bryon poems hidden." Though she raised an eyebrow, she tried not to let her skepticism pervade her expression. He raised an eyebrow. "You clearly don't have it packed into that same old bookshelf. Lose it already?"

"Not quite yet." She elected to ignore how he was deflecting in turn. "It's at my beside. I was doing some light reading last night."

"Enjoyin' it?"

"So much." Her excitement was genuine, then, when he raised a brow; her eyes were shining. "D'you know it's been annotated by like, seven different people? It's so interesting, seeing different interpretations from the past hundred years."

His lips quirked. "And what'd you think of my notes?"

"Some of those were yours?"

He nodded. "Everything in purple."

"You have pretty handwriting." When he grinned outright, her gaze drifted to his mouth a moment. She caught herself before he could react. "Anyway, I thought you said no one had read that in almost fifteen years."

"'S cause no one had. Those annotations were all the way back in college."

She raised her eyebrows. "Now, I definitely didn't expect you to be a fan of Byron."

"Oh yeah?" He crossed one of his legs over the other, shifting to face her, and draped an arm over the back of the couch. He looked curiously at her. "Why's that?"

"Definitely didn't take you for a romantic."

"Hey, now." His offense was entirely a facade, and his smile despite it didn't help his case. "I'm hurt. I've always been a romantic."

She snorted out a disbelieving laugh. "I'm sure you have."

"I'm not kiddin'!" he defended, but her clear skepticism amused him regardless. "'M a sentimental person."

"Could've fooled me."

"And why's that?"

"I dunno." She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink as she glanced at him. While his tone was lighthearted, his gaze was inquisitive, searching -- he didn't respond, letting the silence stretch on, and she felt as though she owed him an answer. "You're just so... laid-back and carefree. You're all confident, and brash, and have a flair for the dramatics. I guess I wouldn't have pegged you as a softie."

"I like to think I'm pretty empathetic." His voice was soft. "I've devoted my life to public service, to makin' people's better. You've gotta be compassionate to put the time and money into runnin' for president, right?"

"Or you have to be power-hungry," she contended, and though her tone was light, he creased his forehead.

"'S that really what you think of me?"

With how he was looking at her, bordering on hurt, Y/N could feel guilt building at the back of her throat. She'd come into her current job with so many preconceptions about him that she couldn't have known whether were true, but she hadn't hesitated in entertaining the ideas regardless. "Not anymore." She was sure she looked as embarrassed as she felt. "But I may have made some unfair assumptions, once upon a time."

He gave her a mild grin. "Don't sweat it; it goes both ways."

"Excuse me?" She sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow, and he only seemed amused as he regarded her.

"Oh, you're actin' all offended, now?"

"I am offended."

"You shouldn't be." She squinted suspiciously at him as he continued. "Never thought you were a bad person, or anythin', just didn't expect all this from you." With his words, he gestured to the room around him, and she was slow to reply.

"What d'you mean?"

"Lettin' me stay so late in your diner, takin' me in with the storm out there..." He trailed off, shrugging. "You're bein' more generous than you're givin' yourself credit for."

"To be fair, you would've been able to get home without a problem if I'd just kicked you out earlier."

"But you didn't." How perceptive he'd suddenly become had her shifting in her seat. "Feel like I owe you for it."

She smiled bashfully, sipping her wine. With how he was looking at her, heat had begun to rise in her cheeks. "Really, Thomas, it's not a big deal. It's the least I can do."

"It means a lot, though. Really. Didn't have to do any of this for me." His gaze roamed her apartment thoughtlessly, and he wore a small smile. Her eyes were fixed firmly on him all the while, drinking in his expression, the smallest details of his face, from the little patch below his ear he'd missed while shaving, to the stray curl that always seemed to fall across his forehead. "Thank you, Y/N."

What happened next caught them both off guard, despite how slow, gradual, even how nervous it was.

Her action was unexpected, but not sudden, and for once, Y/N didn't think about it. She just acted. He'd turned back to her in surprise when her fingertips grazed his stubble, no longer caught up in eyeing the room around them, and before he said anything, she was leaning in, kissing him.

The action wasn't rushed, and at first, it was chaste -- he was breathless, kissing her back without thinking twice, and his hand rose to cup her cheek, following her movements.

It took him a minute to pull away, and when he did, Y/N backed off immediately, wide-eyed. "Sweetheart--"

Her stomach dropped. Rejection hadn't been an outcome she'd considered, not after how he'd been coming onto her time and time again, not after the other night, with how frankly he'd asked her what she was looking for from him. "Shit, Thomas, 'm sorry." Her apology was breathless. "I... I didn't mean to make you--"

But he didn't let her go on, his hand moving from her cheek to the nape of her neck, stopping her from retreating to the opposite side of the couch as she lay her glass of wine on the coffee table. "Is this what you want?"

His question made her freeze. He wasn't shooting her down; his eyes searched hers, and she swallowed roughly. "Yes," she breathed. Another beat passed. She bit her lip, waiting for him to react, waiting to see what he'd say or do, but he didn't move.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm. "'Cause if you're gonna run out, rebuke me again, I can't--"

"I'm sure." She didn't waste another moment in pulling him back down to her, pushing herself across the couch, closer to him, and as her lips again met his, he discarded his glass, instead tugging her onto him by the waist.

She pulled him close that time, abandoning her hesitance. He didn't want to stop her, either -- not when her arms snaked up around his neck, not when she swung one of her legs over his, straddling his lap, not when she knit a hand into the curls at the base of his neck, and his self-control was fleeting as he bit down on her bottom lip, making her moan. But despite how she was kissing him, despite the sheer desire in her actions, his concern hadn't subsided.

When he held her face just inches from his own, thumb tracing patterns into the top of her hip, her stare was saturated with surprise. "Y/N, really," he started, worried. She raised her eyebrows. "I've gotta know--"

"I've thought this through," she cut him off firmly, rolling her hips teasingly down against his, and the action made him groan. "I want this. I want you. I'm not going to regret this; I'm not going to run off. If you want me to stop, tell me, tell me now, please, but I swear, Thomas. I know what I want." She'd withdrawn a hand from where it hung at his upper back, instead running it down to the top of his chest, her fingernails ghosting over his shoulder, across his collarbone. "Do you?"

There was a skip as he paused, but when he found no reservations in her gaze, only reckless abandon and want, his mind was made up.

"Beyond a doubt." His words were hardly a whisper, lost quickly in both of their rising thoughts, in the growing cacophony of pleasure as her lips returned to his without hesitation, lost in the rising sighs and low moans as she pressed up against him, and finally, finally, they both stopped thinking and overthinking, doubting and hesitating.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away as Y/N tugged on the tie Thomas still wore, as he pulled her closer by her waistband She was breathing heavily when his lips found her neck, shivering when his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin, when his fingertips dug into her hips. It was easy for her to lose herself in him, after weeks of waiting and wanting and wishing, and easier still when she pulled on his soft curls, making him groan against her skin, when his grip on her tightened as she ground her hips down against his.

She could feel him shudder underneath her when his hips jerked, when he pulled her down against him, when she let out a soft whine. By that point, his tie was sloppily loosened, hanging crooked around his neck, and Y/N had managed to undo the first few buttons of his shirt despite how preoccupied she'd quickly become.

She had no caution left to cling to. She'd shaken him off time and time again; she'd rebuffed his unshakeable audacity, but it took her until he backed off to realize what it was she was really looking for.

Something about it all scared her, made her heart race and her head spin, but as his hands traveled further south, her pulse spiked, and she couldn't bring herself to mind it. He asked where her bedroom was; her answer was just a murmur between hot, fervent kisses as he returned to her mouth.

She knew she wouldn't regret this all come morning. She wouldn't regret it two days later, nor two weeks later, the risk of it all only compounding upon the excitement. With his skin against hers, with him picking her up by the thighs, making her yelp as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, she was struggling to remember that there was any big picture to it. There would always be her job. There would always be the election. There would always be their nosy mutual friends and a bloodthirsty political landscape. But just then, in her low-budget apartment with her secondhand furniture, as the blizzard raged on within six inches of her warm, comfortable living room, as all of Washington D.C. was buried under a cloak of snow, as frozen in space as it felt in time, the two of them were all there was.