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joshdonnas · 2 months ago

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do you have any j/d fic recs? :D

Absolutely!! This fandom is really blessed with some of the best writers I've seen, so there's a lot of really good content out there to read, but I'll list some of my favorites under the cut ☺️

FAVORITE AUTHORS 💛

I thought I'd start by listing some of my authors, I’ll also be listing some of my personal favorite fics from theirs down bellow, but any of their works are totally worth the read:

FAVORITE FICS (in no particular order) 💛

running, by andyoureturntome (work in progress, rated M): "Matt Santos is running for president. Josh and Donna are just running away. Augmented canon for seasons six and seven. Ventures into AU territory from 6x18 on." (when I say this is one of my favorite fics ever you have no idea how much I mean it. it’s honestly so good, a must read in my opinion. it’s still in progress, and it’s not updated very frequently , but it’s still so so worth it (here’s to hoping we’ll get a next chapter soon!!).

the other side of the door, by sam_writes_fics (finished, rated M): "Donna wanders out of the bathroom, baffled by how late it is for the hundredth night in a row, and she drapes her coat over a chair before moving to plug in her cell phone. The blinking light catches her attention, and she flips it open. One missed call. From Josh. Perfect. Post-ep for 7x13: The Cold." (I honestly read this one every time I watch the cold)

say you’ll never let them tear us apart, by hanyolo (finished, rated M): "what would it be like in the santos era for josh and donna to get media coverage as a couple?"

love grows (where my donnatella goes), by sam_writes_fics (finished, rated T): "the first year of the santos administration in four parts"

how i love the view when i'm beside you, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated E): "Josh and Donna on Valentine's Day; Chiefs of Staff era J/D"

cutting me open then healing me fine, by hufflepuffhermione (finished, rated T): "Josh and Donna are in the press room when it gets shot at, and the trajectory of a bullet changes the trajectory of their lives. Evidence of Things Not Seen AU."

there ain’t no need to go outside, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated E): "A lazy, rainy morning at home."

even cnn is wrong, sometimes, by BeneathAnOrangeSky (finished, rated M): "She snakes her hand between them, high instead of low, wrapping it around his bowtie. Starts to pull. And it’s this that snaps him out of it. Because Josh Lyman isn’t a press secretary and he isn’t a communications director and he isn’t Sam or Toby and he sure as hell isn’t Will, but he’s spent enough time around enough writers to appreciate the art of analogy (at the end of the night you wanna be able to pull it open like tony bennett), to recognize symmetry (donna? my tie’s falling apart), to understand that codas don’t exist merely in cello suites or stump speeches; that life makes space for sartorial bookends, too. Like bowties being tied, then untied." (utterly obsessed with the way this author writes)

gather ye rosebuds, by thefinestmuffins (finished, rated E): "A one and done smutshot, canon-divergent from 20 Hours in LA, in which Josh realizes where his rosebuds are and goes back to his hotel room to gather them."

we've been living on a fault line, by sam_writes_fics (finished, rated T): "6x02: Josh spends five days at Camp David, and every night all he thinks about is Donna."

burning slowly, my one and only, by thotsandfeelings (finished, rated T): "I can't stop thinking about you."

sacred new beginnings, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated G): " But now, he doesn’t need her anymore – or he shouldn’t, anyway. So she’ll go back to her apartment, and he’ll go back to work, and things will go back to normal, whatever the hell that means. There’s something about that idea that makes his stomach churn."

an act of charity, by thatTWWgirl (finished, rated T): "A date with the White House Deputy Chief of Staff is put up for auction at the First Lady's fundraiser, and he's not too happy about it."

domestic days, by spooky_spacegirl (finished, rated G): "One day Josh and Donna look around and realize that, somewhere along the line, they have slipped into something that can only be described as Domesticated. One-Shot collection. Post-Canon." (so so so cute, never fails to bring a smile to my face)

this is the wonder (that's keeping the stars apart), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (work in progress, rated T): "A soulmate AU".

I want It all or nothing, no more in between, by scarmophogoghs (finished, rated E): "Want to go to Hawai'i? With me? Please?” (huuuge Hawaii fit we all cheered)

stuck with nowhere to go, by littlefoolswritings (finished, rated E): "what if it was only Josh and Donna who'd been left behind by the motorcade? just the two of them?)" (I love this one my god)

a pathological avoidance thing, by yanak324 (finished, rated M): "Josh isn’t sure what to make of the lack of surprise on the President-elect’s face when he explains why he’s taking time off. He has bigger fish to fry though." (this one is from Josh's POV, and this one is from Donna's!)

when a woman loves a man (who loves a woman), by BeneathAnOrangeSky (finished, rated M): "“You’re sensitive. It’s sweet.” She bites back a smile at the image she’s evoked. Everyone thinks they know the real Josh Lyman. Bartlet’s bulldog, political wunderkind, the man behind Washington’s curtain. But they don’t know him like this. She brushes a sweaty tangle of hair from his forehead and pretends not to notice when he leans into her touch. No, this side of him is reserved just for her. His mouth opens in surprise, voice pitching up a notch, “I am n—” “Your system,” she amends. “Your system is sensitive.”"

of the united states, by violet_storms (finished, rated G): "Fifty states, fifty sentences, fifty snapshots of Josh and Donna falling in love on the campaign trail."

on the line, by hufflepuffhermione (finished, rated G): "Josh and Donna and a pathological inability to hang up the phone."

you can run (but only so far), by swancharmings (finished, rated M): "The room is quaint, if a bit tacky, one sad sprig of holly greeting them at the door. A fine representation of how she feels this Christmas."

love is the only thing, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated T): "The Moss-Lyman girls read Little Women; Josh has a lot of feelings."

it was like autumn, looking at her, by cmbing (finished, rated T): "His eyelids flutter open, gentler than usual. Blearily, he catches the alarm clock blinking a red 7:48 a.m. If this were five years ago, he would already be on his third cup of coffee. If this were five months ago, he never would have made it to bed in the first place. But it’s now—and he wraps his arm tighter around Donna’s waist."

it's paradise as long as I'm with you, by thotsandfeelings (finished, rated E): "Hawaii."

only bought this dress so you could take it off, by hanyolo (finished, rated M): "josh has a thing for donna in red (as he should)"

nothing that i wouldn't do (to make you feel my love), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "Josh re-arranges his priorities. A Gaza hospital fix-it fic." (I'm always thinking about this one)

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated T): "On the drive, it starts to hit him. Leah was born on the anniversary of the Rosslyn shooting. What would this mean for him? Leah deserved a father who wouldn’t be absolutely miserable on his daughter’s birthday every year. Of course, he’d love to think that her birth could erase all of the negative feelings he’s ever had toward this day, that it could make all of the anxiety and trauma melt away. But if he couldn’t pull it together on the day she was born, the day she came into the world, what evidence does he have to support the idea that next year will be better? Or the year after that?"

there ain’t no need to go outside, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated E): "A lazy, rainy morning at home."

how to say I love you in subtext, by RhapsodyInProgress (finished, rated T): "If you know where to look and what to listen for, Josh and Donna have been telling each other how they feel for years. A series of vignettes on a theme."

annus primus, by hufflepuffhermione (finished, rated T): "The first year of the Santos administration, in twelve movements."

sit with you in the trenches, by swancharmings (finished, rated T): "”So you’ve got health and strength.” “And we’ll steal the rest?” “Bet your ass.” // Four ways they did exactly that."

oversight, by thefinestmuffins (finished, rated E): "War Crimes angst + hooking up" (a MUST read!!!)

can't call you a stranger (but i can't call you), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "King Corn. The elevator gets stuck."

for a long time, by onelargecoffeepls (finished, rated M): "Seven short glimpses into Donna falling in love with Josh based on "Love You For A Long Time" by Maggie Rogers."

this is how mythology is written (or: shards; scars; and whole again), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "The mosaic of Josh and Donna." (GOD this one!!!)

where the lovelight gleams, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated E): "Donna brings Josh home for Christmas and has some thoughts about him in a holiday sweater; takes place during Transition" (OBSESSED!!!)

the way old friends do, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated T): "Donna, Toby, Charlie, and the chaotic people they love."

the first 100 days, by BimadaBomily (finished, rated T): "100 moments in Josh/Donna's relationship during the first 100 days of the Santos Administration."

like we were in paris (we were somewhere else), by BeneathAnOrangeSky (work in progress, rated M): "Josh, Donna, and the worlds they transform together // or: an ode to Paris (Taylor's Version)" (again, the way this author writes??!!?!)

find ourselves in the winter snow, by swancharmings (finished, rated E): "It’s when he leads her to dance, holding her impossibly close and swaying gently through the upbeat tempo, that she truly doesn’t know what to expect of the evening."

please linger near the door, by cmbing (finished, rated T): "They’re definitely not dating when there is a presidential dinner and they don’t think to invite dates. Instead, they assume they’ll go with each other. Him in a black tux, her in a red dress. Their arms are interlocked as they enter the ballroom, and Donna even goads Josh into dancing with her. It’s friendly, nothing more. They’re just having sex. That’s it."

with one hello, I'll never be the same, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated T): "Josh and Donna and how 'hi' means so much more than 'hello'."

all you ever wanted from me (was sweet nothin'), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "Donna hadn’t had a nightmare about her ex since she started dating Josh, since well before she moved in with Josh after their week in Hawaii, since her life became better than it ever has been, since she became happier than she ever thought that she could be. Which is probably why she’s so shaken when the nightmare returns. Set post-series, in the Santos CoS era." (soooo sweet)

AUs 💛

i like shiny things (but i'd marry you with paper rings), by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated T): "In the aftermath of the First Lady's birthday party, Josh, Donna, and the rest of the Senior Staff deal with the fallout of Donna's realization that she's no longer a U.S. Citizen. CJ, Sam, and Toby have taken it upon themselves to get this figured out, and it’s a good thing, because Josh’s brain can only present him with one solution: Marry Donna Moss."

my days now end as they began (with thoughts of you), by flowersinapril (work in progress, rated T): "A new neighbour moves in next door to Josh and she isn't happy with how loud and chaotic he is." (can't wait for the next chapter of this one!!!)

sometimes it's like you grew up down the street, by starsontheceiling (finished, rated G): "Afterwards, he’ll say he did it without thinking and all their friends will laugh at him in disbelief, and he understands why but it’s still true."

you came like a resolution (under a starry sky), by JessBakesCakes (work in progress, rated G): "Donna, this is my brother, Josh. Josh, this is Donna. She lives across the hall"

an everlasting love, by sam_writes_fics (work in progress, rated T): "best man and maid of honor au" (has not been updated in a while but I love the idea of this pic so so much and I think about constantly)

think i missed the gun at the starting line, by ansatz (finished, rated T): "After qualifying for the Olympics in 2016, but being unable to compete due to an injury, Donna Moss is back, ready to run, and completely focused on earning a medal for Team Canada. Enter Josh Lyman, reigning Olympic champion with a heart of—you guessed it—gold. Two countries, two sports: one chance to fall in love?"

what if i told you, i feel like i know you? but we never met., by donnatellamoss (finished, rated G): "Donna Moss meets an unfamiliar face when she knocks on Sam Seaborn’s door for their English project. His name’s Josh Lyman and he’s good at bothering people."

absolutely smitten (never let you go), by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated G): "Josh feels all the air whoosh out of his lungs when he sees the teacher standing on the other side of the door. She looks at the group standing outside her door, puzzled for a moment, until her blue eyes lock with Josh’s. Her blonde hair is tucked neatly behind her ears, and pumpkin earrings dangle from her earlobes. She’s wearing a copper-colored fall sweater, adorned with leaves around the collar that match her bulletin board. Her ID badge dangles from her neck, one of those ink pens in a bright, funky color clipped to her lanyard. “Miss Moss,” CJ says. “This is Mr. Lyman from the high school."" (always thinking about this one honestly I need more!!!)

the campaign around the corner, orphan_account (finished, rated G): "Donna Moss is working for Howard Stackhouse's presidential campaign in 1998. Josh Lyman is working for Jed Bartlet's presidential campaign in 1998. The two cannot stand each other. Little do they know the person each of them is beginning to fall in love with over email is the other." (you've got mail au!!!!!!!!!!)

everybody talks (it started with a whisper), by JessBakesCakes (work in progress, rated G): "Being the White House Press Secretary, Josh realizes, is one of the toughest jobs in the administration to begin with. But with her co-workers' propensity for going viral, CJ certainly deserves a raise. The West Wing, set 20 years later." (soooo obsessed with this one MY GOD)

darling, so it goes (some things are meant to be), by mikaylawrites (finished, rated M): "The story of rising country singers Josh Lyman and Donna Moss." (so good!!!)

ballerina, you've must have seen her, by thababes (work in progress, rated G): "It was always supposed to have been Josh and Mandy. After their successful run of Carmen, it had been expected that The Washington Ballet would stick to what worked. There was never supposed to be another audition. Company principles seemingly traveling from role to role was the usual. It had been an unusual season — schedule conflicts and last minute alternate class partners — and suddenly, everything seemed to have changed. And it had all started when he had danced with her." (I think about this one constantly)

#this ended up so big and it's still missing a lot of fics I love aaaa #it brought me physical pain not listing some fics here but like I said read all the work from those authors #hope you enjoy them as much as I do anon!#fic rec #josh x donna #the west wing #request

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junespriince · 6 months ago

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Winged heart au, the start!

Jason: you handling the breakup pretty well.

Dick: Kori deserve to be happy, besides we're still friends.

Tim: that's healthy, odd for this family, but I'm proud of you Dick.

Dick: thanks Timmy, now excuse I have patrolling to do.

Damian: remember, we're all having dinner at home.

Dick: wouldn't miss it kiddo!

Later that night

D-list bad guys: look at the newbie, you can just smell the central city vibe off of him.

Wally: I'm happy you can smell, since your stench killed my sense of smell.

Bad guy #2: oh a wise guy huh?

Wally: if I was wise I'd be somewhere else than here.

Dick, hanging upside down on a light poll: hey, leave this civilian alone!

Bad guy, sweats: hey, we're just welcoming the new guy to the city.

Wally: by mugging me?

Dick: leave, please! *Smiling unnerving*

The bad guys, running away:

Dick, turning to see the new guy: there you go — hubba hubba hubba I um,,,, I, you, wow...

Wally, tired: ah, you must be Nightwing, my dad, the flash, told me about you. Thanks for saving me, though I could have handled myself though.

Dick, in love: yeah, yeah totally,,, what's your name?

Wally: uhh wally, Wally West-Allen.

Dick: it's a pretty name!

Wally, confused: I guess? I uh,,, I have to go now.

Dick: yeah, sure, I'll see you around! *Gets nervous* because this is my city, not because I'll stalk you or anything— I'm just gonna shut my mouth...

Wally, creeped out: yeah, you do that... *Leaves*

Dick, back on comms: guys,,,, I fell in love, Tim find everything about this Wally West-Allen dude.

Tim: Bart's older brother?

Dick: yes.

At Wallys apartment.

Wally, on phone: dad, mom, Nightwing is weird and creepy! Why did you say this was the best city for me to move too!

Iris: he's harmless baby.

Barry: all bats are creepy, it's their whole thing.

Bart, yelling in the background: you'll be fine! They're probably reading your personal information and emails!

Wally: and that's normal!?

Bart and Barry: yeah.

#dick grayson #wally west #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bart allen #barry allen #iris allen #batfam #birdflash #flashfam #winged heart au #wally not a hero so he's not used to bats ways of accepting you as a friend or a potential partner #this is the start being dramatized #in the fic i will write soon their friends to lovers this is for the laughs

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yoyomarules · 2 months ago

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been love for a long time with you

(Josh x Donna, The West Wing, rated T)

Mid-October, 2007. True to form, Josh and Donna can't agree on when to celebrate their anniversary. Written in honour of 25 years of this show and this ship 💛

He frowns back at her. ‘Wait. Hang on. What day are you saying is our anniversary?’

‘October 17th. The day we first kissed,’ she says, setting her sights on his chips again. ‘Why, what’re you saying?’

‘I thought November 6th.’

She makes her selection from the bag after several seconds of contemplation and raises her eyebrows at him. ‘You’re counting the first time we slept together?’

‘Yeah, I—’ He breaks off, explaining hastily, ‘Not—not in a—a lecherous way; it was just, y’know. It seemed—obvious.’

Her expression is wry as she pops the chip in her mouth. ‘I’ll bet it did.’

‘It was a very special night!’ he exclaims, a little high-pitched.

#josh x donna #the west wing #tww fic #my fic

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twwpress · 1 year ago

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Weekly Press Briefing #60, continued!!

Fics:

Presenting your weekly roundup of fics posted in the tag for The West Wing on Archive of Our Own.

Josh/Donna

Other Pairings/Gen Fic

Multiple Pairings

Now That's News by kcat1971 | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss, Ainsley Hayes/Sam Seaborn, Helen Santos/Matt Santos, Abbey Bartlet/Jed Bartlet, Zoey Bartlet/Charlie Young | Complete Could I Have This Dance (For The Rest Of My Life?): The Rewrite by mlea7675 | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss, Ainsley Hayes/Sam Seaborn, Danny Concannon/C.J. Cregg, Helen Santos/Matt Santos | Complete

THE WEEKLY PRESS BRIEFING TEAM CAN BE REACHED VIA THE FOLLOWING METHODS:

Twitter: @TWWPress

Email: [email protected]

Feel free to let us know if we missed something, if you have an event you’d like us to promote, or if you have an item that you’d like included in the next briefing!

xx,

What’s next?

Weekly Press Briefing #60: August 13th - 19th

Welcome back to the Weekly Press Briefing, where we bring you highlights from The West Wing fandom each week, including new fics, ongoing challenges, and more! This briefing covers all things posted from August 13 - August 19, 2023! Did we miss something? Let us know; you can find our contact info at the bottom of this briefing!

Challenges/Prompts:

The following is a roundup of open challenges/prompts. Do you have a challenge or event you’d like us to promote? Be sure to get in touch with us! Contact info is at the bottom of this briefing.

@callixton is hosting The West Wing Pride Week (@twwpride here on tumblr) September 17 - 23. More details here!

Photos/Videos:

Here’s what was posted from August 13 - 19.

Bradley Whitford posted a promo for Peter Pan Goes Wrong at the Ahmanson Theatre in LA, where he is joining the cast from August 9 - 27.

Josh Malina posted a change of venue for The West Wing picket event on August 22 so it can occur along with the AFL-CIO Day of Solidarity.

Josh Malina posted a video of himself trolling his Alexa.

Marlee Matlin posted a video of herself outside of the building where she was diagnosed as Deaf at 18 months.

Marlee Matlin posted a video and a silly photo of herself getting her hair done in Chicago.

Mary McCormack posted a video in which she gently roasts her daughter Margaret for what she is packing to bring to college in Connecticut.

Peter James Smith posted about The West Wing picket event change of venue, a reading he was in, and photos from the picket.

Edits/Artwork:

#DONNAMOSS: holds the tag in her hand, trying not to show that it’s the first piece of jewelry anyone’s ever given her by @ainsleyhcyes [VIDEO EDIT] #HELENSANTOS: “Thought you liked it when I got loud?” by @kennysroys [VIDEO EDIT] #CJTOBY: and when the seasons change by @cjcreggswifey [VIDEO EDIT]

Editors’ Choice:

This week, we’d like to share some of our favorite fics under 5000 words! Be sure to tell us any favorites of yours, too!

like love in a drunken sky by thotsandfeelings | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | “I’ve never liked rainy days.”

la banlieue by fiery_one_18 | Rated T | Zoey Bartlet/Charlie Young | Complete | When all is said and done, Zoey still wants to go to France. She knows it sounds crazy, but she does. And how lucky is she that the only person who she feels comfortable getting drunk in front of and confessing that to promises to accompany her in ten years when they’ve both hopefully paid off some of their student loans? … Or, Zoey and Charlie make a pact under the influence of red wine and Elle Woods and stick to it

their voices still by altschmerzes | Rated T | Josh Lyman & Toby Ziegler (Gen Fic) | Complete | Toby takes Josh to synagogue, and together they say the Mourner's Kaddish for Leo. "Because that's what Jewish sons do when their fathers die. Even if that father happened to be a Catholic." (ktavnukkah, day 4, "mourning")

Doctor's Orders by ETraytin | Rated T | No Pairings Listed (Gen Fic) | Complete | A week after Opposition Research, Abbey Bartlet shows up at Santos for President HQ, looking for a certain troublemaker.

Big Trouble in Little China by fictorium | Rated T | C J Cregg/Kate Harper | Complete | It's been a long few days, and CJ could use a little comfort.

Stay tuned for this week's fic list, which we'll be reblogging onto this post right away!

#the west wing #tww #tww fandom #west wing #west wing fandom #weekly press briefing #west wing fics

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malkaleh · 2 months ago

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Kind of got encouraged by @miabicicletta and @onekisstotakewithme and uh, a girl saves boy TWW fic

Danny does remember being shot. He knows that’s the somehow so opposite of a cliche it circles back to cliche cliche but he remembers. It wasn’t like anything but…well, being shot, however you might describe the experience.

But he does know he scoffed at himself for thinking ‘I’ve been shot’ because hello, writer, couldn’t you come up with a better line there than ‘I’ve been shot and I feel cold and kinda numb’

(And then he wishes he could go back to the numbness)

CJ just wants to yell at him. Or argue. Yell argue, perhaps - yell at his stupidly endearing face and argue about how he could have stayed in the fourth row. He could have not left when she’d yelled at him.

He’d always understood her before, the fear and the professionalism and enjoyment of their dynamic but then he’d left and he hadn’t and now she’s crying over him and she can’t afford to be right now, she has work. And work. And spin to manage.

She can’t afford to be falling to her knees over the thought of never seeing Danny’s stupidly endearing face in her life ever again because he was a nimrod and he left and he’ll have the last word.

(And it will be her fault. He was in a war zone and it is her fault and her voice will be steady and her hands won’t tremble and people will judge her for it but they’d judge her for falling to pieces and she’d rather be a bitch helping Danny than a mess not helping Danny).

He means it about going back to the numbness. Though the judgement of the utter cliche he seems to have landed in - one of those old school romance novels his two older sisters loved, the ones that can’t have the heroine having sex of her own accord, but she really wants it, everyone understands that. Except he doesn’t and he doesn’t have the bosoms to heave anyway.

(It’s true, it’s funny what you think at times like these. Tori, as ever was so right. Like the fact that his captor is so concerned about him and also apparently ‘right wing terrorist principles’ don’t extend to not eating the foods of those they consider less than, which he shouldn’t be surprised but it’s so stupid and he refuses to let this ruin Chinese food).

And it’s sick, the way he’s almost grateful because he gets painkillers and medical treatment and a shower and they stop, you know torturing him because Terrorist Leader apparently read the same romance novels Lana did or something.

He’d left, because he couldn’t take it any more. Oh not that he didn’t, that he doesn’t understand why they couldn’t - especially when it’s CJ who cares so much she hurts herself, CJ who has to be far far more professional than anyone on the Senior Staff, CJ who would die for her people (and do they understand that, Danny thinks sometimes, do they value how much she would bleed herself dry for you all) - no he understands. He gets it. He just couldn’t take it. Being there, so close and so incredibly far.

So he’d taken himself to a war zone - it’s something he had done before and it’s something he knows. He knows the precautions you take in dangerous places.

The ironic thing is, he’d been grabbed and shot from a safe zone, while he was buying a sandwich - not because he was a journalist but because he was an American. He really wishes he could say that no one in power cares. He really does. Maybe they’d let him go then he let himself think, the kind of stupid ass bullshit you think when you’re tied to a radiator and someone will work out eventually that not only is he a journalist, he is friends with actual powerful people.

#lil and her ridiculous aus #fic #tv: west wing #danny will not be having a good time #he awards this entire experience no stars #rape tw #kind of ambigious time period set as always #(I also very deliberately have left the countr(ies) involved out)#(I will say I was thinking (probably) somewhere Russian based mercenaries had invaded)#(Probably)

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apinchofm · 1 month ago

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I would have died for your sins

Two weeks of sharpness and silence and Donna had believed Josh when he said everything was fine between them.

some post-War Crimes angst with a happy ending for these idiots.

#tww fic #josh x donna #one shot #josh lyman #donna moss #the west wing #my renewed obsession with these two #s3e5 #war crimes tww

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try-set-me-on-fire · 5 months ago

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Tagged by @bigfootsmom for tease tidbit tuesday! Had an idea for what I want to do for another of my bad things happen bingo squares and scribbled this opening out on my lunch break at work

“I’ve been doing fine lately.”

“I’m glad. That’s not what I asked.”

Bobby frowns at Frank, who’s sitting as relaxed and neutral as he always is. “You’re a therapist. Don’t you need to know my… current mental state, something like that?”

“Sure,” Frank smiles just the tiniest bit. Bobby doesn’t know if that means he’s succeeded or failed at something. “But I asked: why are you here?”

Bobby likes to flatter himself by thinking he can come across pretty relaxed and neutral himself. He may have grown up surrounded by rapidly decreasing charm in a picture imperfect midwestern family, but none of them ever fully lost the ability to put on a show. “Well, it’s been a hell of a year,” he smiles back, just enough bashfulness, just enough aw shucks, ain’t that just the way.

Frank nods, demeanor unchanged. “It’s almost November,” he points out. “That’s a lot of year. Why did you decide to come in today?”

Bobby’s mother liked to think she could see right through him like this. She’d be impressed by Frank, if she’d approved of therapists. Bobby bites the side of his cheek. That wasn’t really her fault. It was a different time. None of the rest of them would have agreed to going, anyway. “Hell of a week, then.”

Tagging @iinryer @chronicowboy @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz if ya got anything to share!

#yeah yeah at least somewhat inspired by the west wing therapy episode of course it is #brick’s making Bobby miserable again who would have thought!!#i did almost tear up thinking about this one and the last time that happened was writing Bobby’s funeral in the fic where he dies #so. good luck!#tag games #tease tidbit tuesday

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aworldinsideaperson · 10 months ago

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The West Wing

A Top Gun Maverick AU Series

Double Life

Bob Floyd x Reader

Congresswoman

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Deputy to the Deputy

Jake Seresin x Reader

The Press

Natasha Trace x Javy Machado

The President’s Daughter

Mickey Garcia x Reader

The President, First Lady, and Chief of Staff

#tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd series #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin series #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw series #bradley bradshaw x reader #natasha trace x javy machado #west wing au

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teamhappyme · 11 months ago

Text

it's time to go

josh lyman x female!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: my condensed rant at how the women are treated in the west wing, what is a timeline/plot

a/n: logging on to post a fic and then fall off into the abyss where there is no motivation or inspiration flowing! this has been sitting in my drafts for two years, folks. finally got the inspo to finish this generalized west wing fic-turned josh lyman reader core done! i hopee you all can indulge in this as much as i did :) (yes another taylor swift inspired title you can take them from my cold dead hands-)

~~~

There is a constant buzz that lives in the west wing.

If it’s not the white house staff and all the varying levels of personnel making noise, it’s the conference room meetings that hold everyone in D.C. trying to influence the white house and the American people.

Normally, the buzz is comforting to you. In the middle of the communications department, you all thrive on it. But the last twenty four hours had reached a level of mayhem that not even you guys could spin into a positive narrative.

You accompanied Toby to CJ’s second brief of the night, trying to inform the press on the situation in Haiti while attempting to dodge any questions about the MS shock and reelection campaign.

CJ was losing control of the group. She was shuffling papers, removing sticky notes, adjusting her glasses, all in an attempt to keep herself somewhat grounded from the chaos at hand. You sensed Toby tense up as a member of the press pushed and pushed, asking his third follow up question.

And that’s when it all came crashing down.

CJ flew off the podium and you and Toby followed after her.

“Did she just say the President is relieved to send troops into Haiti?” Sam asked as he joined you in the hallway, waiting outside of CJ’s office. “Relieved to put American lives and Haitian civilians at risk?”

“I was standing right there!” Toby shouted back and you flinched. This certainly was not the good buzz you wanted.

Before they could continue yelling at each other, the door to the briefing room slammed against the wall, CJ rubbing her hands over her face and turned to find the three of you standing there.

“CJ,” Toby started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Just don’t say anything! Just… don’t say anything.” You all gave her a moment to regroup before she began walking back to her office.

Your two bosses stood in the middle of the hallway, not knowing what on earth to do next, other than duck and cover from Leo once he heard what happened.

“They’re gonna need extra hands for damage control.” Sam turned to you, and you nodded.

“I’m on it. I started drafting notes for an apology statement,”

“Apology?” Toby asked, voice still an octave louder than you liked, directed to you.

“I told her to.” Sam added, and you watched the look the two of them shared. They sure had some things to discuss. “We’ll talk about them later. Just, make sure they are clear about what CJ meant. Redirect as much as you can without stepping on any toes.”

“Got it.”

You pushed your stack of papers into Sam’s hands and made your way to the press offices. Phones were ringing off the hook, aides scrambling from desk to desk, as Josh stepped in beside you.

Before either of you could reach CJ’s office, she slammed the door, rattling a few frames on the wall.

“Well, we’re just getting started aren’t we.”

“Happy Thursday.” you added as he walked back toward his office. You looked out over the war room and locked eyes with Carol. She let out a breath before meeting you at her desk.

“Heard there’s a bit of a situation going on. Where do you need me?”

You’re not sure if it’s still Thursday by the time you leave the press office. It’s still dark out; you haven’t eaten anything besides Carol’s desk mints and you need a nap. Desperately.

You walked through the bullpen to Josh’s office, your final memo delivered before you could put the events of the last day and a half to rest - at least for the next six hours. You checked in with Sam one final time, making sure your absence today didn’t put him any further behind. (Of course it did, but he’d never tell.)

Donna wasn’t at her desk, and the rest of the bullpen was empty save for Josh pacing around his office while reading over a document. You waited until he stopped moving, scribbled something on the paper, and stuck the pen back in his mouth to knock on the opened door.

His eyes shot up, meeting yours for a quick second before he began pacing once again.

You’ll take that as a ‘come in.’

“7:00 a.m. briefing notes, CJ wanted you all to take a look at them before morning.” You handed him the paper, skimming it before he went back to his thick document. “Carol says all they are waiting on is an update on Haiti from the situation room. They assume they won’t get that information until-”

“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow.” He interrupted, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m sorry?” you questioned.

“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow. She has the information and will get the Haiti update by 5:00.”

Taking a second to recover your thoughts and do a double take at your own copy of the memo, you couldn’t help but question the man in front of you.

“Why are you benching CJ?”

“No one’s benching CJ. Leo made the decision to have Nancy give the brief on Haiti. I mean, she seems pretty qualified to give the brief being the President’s National Security Advisor, but I could be wrong. She just bribed me with some bagels to give her the opportunity.”

“Don’t you think CJ deserves to do her job?”

“She said the President was relieved to send troops into Haiti.”

“She made a mistake,” You argued, and you could feel the anger starting to spew out of you.

“Yeah, and unfortunately she made it in front of the press and during broadcasted briefing.”

“CJ used one wrong word and she’s getting hanged for it.” You dropped the stack of memos onto Josh’s desk, his full attention now on you.

“CJ is the press secretary, she is the line of communication from the President to the public.”

“And you’re the Deputy Chief of Staff, and Toby is the Communications Director, and Sam is the Deputy Communications Director, and-”

“What’s your point?” He interrupted, running a hand through his annoying, unkempt hair.

You scoffed. “What’s my point? As the Deputy Chief of Staff, you went on Capitol Beat and slammed Mary Marsh while simultaneously ridiculing every person of faith in the United States. You also went in front of the same White House Press Corps and stated that the President had a secret plan to fight inflation when he obviously did not. As the Communications Director, Toby was accused of insider trading. Finally, as the Deputy Communications Director, Sam slept with a prostitute, and instead of staying away from her like all of the senior staff advised, including Leo, he was photographed with her, which could have caused a major PR crisis for us to fix.”

“I thought you were in favor of Laurie and Sam’s relationship, prostitutes shouldn’t be discriminated against.” He added with a smirk.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“You listing all of the mistakes we’ve made as we work in the most powerful building in the world? Yes, I do.”

You crossed your arms in defiance, fighting back frustrated tears. He wouldn’t get it.

“CJ has stood at that podium over the last twenty six hours taking shit from the press on the President’s diagnosis. She chooses the wrong language once, and Toby is yelling at her while Leo shoves her in the corner.”

He let out a sigh, trying to choose his next words carefully.

“It’s her job to get the language right-”

“For fucks sake Josh, this isn’t about her damn job! It’s about every single woman in this building working their ass off, taking the hits for their bosses, for the men in this administration without as much as a thank you. How many times has Donna been on the receiving end of phone calls from angry senators, stayed late to make sure she proofread your memos, sacrificed her free nights to lobby and push your policy on people? And how many times have you thanked her for it? I sit in the communications bullpen and hear Toby shout for Ginger, Bonnie, and me dozens of times a day. I see, first hand, the scrutiny that CJ is under every time she has to defend policy to the press. And don’t think I don’t understand that we all signed up for these roles. We all knew what we were getting into, we all knew the hierarchy of the west wing. We knew we weren’t going to be praised for our contributions, no matter how big or small. But none of us expected to be benched for doing our job, for telling the truth of a man that is too scared to say it himself.”

Josh’s eyes widened at your casual tone and bold statement. You knew you were crossing the line.

“You’re talking about the President, keep your voice down.”

“Why? Everyone is thinking the same thing. He’s hiding behind Haiti, he’s hiding behind CJ, and he’s hiding behind this damn white house!”

Josh moved around you, going to shut the door in hopes that no one heard you. But a foot propped the door open, and in walked a still irritable Toby.

“I sure as hell hope that wasn’t the President you were having a public outburst about in his goddamn west wing,” Toby exclaimed, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“Toby,” Josh tried to interject, but you were ready to finally give everyone a piece of your mind.

“It sure as hell was. And I’ll repeat it for anyone that wants to hear it, in fact, why don’t we all just march down to the Oval office and tell the man causing all these problems himself how we really feel. Or am I the only one with the balls to say it?”

Josh had to physically stop you from leaving his office, holding onto your shoulder as you could practically see the smoke leaving Toby’s ears.

“You sure as hell don’t have enough seniority to command a meeting in the Oval!” Toby yelled out, landing another low blow to your ego. Josh’s hand tightened on your shoulder as you fought back the tears desperately trying to form in your eyes. But you wouldn’t give Toby the satisfaction. “So suck it up, and wait for us to tell you what the hell to write to get us out of this situation.”

You shook Josh’s hand off your shoulder as you took another step closer to Toby.

“I’m not writing a single word until I get to talk to the President.”

“Get the hell out of my bullpen, you’re done tonight.” Toby seethed, clearing the way for you to leave.

You didn’t think twice. You walked past the two of them, not a care in the world at the fact you just told off two of the most powerful people in the White House, potentially risking your job in the process.

The buzz followed you through the halls to the communications bullpen, walking past Ginger and Bonnie who were wrapping up phone calls at their desks. Sam yelled out to you from his office, but you kept your head down and kept walking.

It wasn’t until you walked past the Roosevelt room, locking eyes with Donna as she sat with papers spread out in front of her, red markings all across the pages, that it hit you. She gave you a small smile, her eyes quickly turning to concern as you felt the tears threaten to fall.

You quickly walked to the exit, brushing past the security guards and stepping into the spitting night rain. The air was cold, and it felt like a shock to your system.

What the hell have you done.

You barely made it fifty feet before you heard someone calling your name, heavy footsteps running toward you.

You turned to find Josh, coat in hand, approaching you outside the White House.

“Wait a second,” Josh said as he finally stood in front of you, draping your coat around your shoulders. You didn’t even realize you were shivering.

“I need to go,” you said, embarrassment and anger still seeping through you.

“We need to talk about what just happened. It’s been a long, hectic night-”

“Josh, you’re not going to talk me out of my own words.” You interrupted him. “I meant everything I said in there, and I’ve been feeling that way for a while. No amount of talking is going to change what I think, or what Toby thinks. It’s done.”

“We can fix it, please-”

“Nothing is going to change!” You exclaimed as your arms raised in frustration. “The only way this goes away is if I go back in there with my tail tucked between my legs and suck up to Toby. I’m not going to kiss the ring and pretend I’m okay with what’s going on in there. And if that’s the job now, I don’t want it.”

“It’s always been the job, the President's policies and opinions are our policies and opinions.”

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re in the room where it happens. And quite frankly, I’m sick of taking the hit for men who can’t help themselves.” you said and continued walking further away from the White House.

“It must be lonely up there on your high horse, pointing your finger at everyone who has what you want!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” you whipped around to face him, finding him closer than he was before. You hated that he was looking down at you, both in height and pity. “And of all the people in that fucking building, it should have been you to understand why I feel this way.”

The two of you stood incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the next move. It had been like this between the two of you for months; push and pull, give and take, waiting for someone to crack and push the boundary wide open. No one knew how to get you to open up like Josh, and no one made him as flustered as you. And still, it all ended like this.

He looked down at your hands, clenched into fists at your sides, and he slowly reached out to grab them. But you couldn't let it happen this time. You took a step back, and both of you tensed up again.

“It’s time for me to go.” Physically, mentally, all of it. It was time for you to leave the white house.

Josh nodded, fighting the urge to continue to try and get you to stay. Instead, he rested his hands on the lapel of your jacket, pulling it tighter around you for the final time. You refused to look up at him, knowing you would give in just like all those times before.

He gave you a small nod once he was ready to finally let you go.

“I’ll see you around.”

*****

It’s been three days since the MS scandal completely shook the nation.

You haven’t left your apartment since that day, avoiding phone calls from everyone in the west wing.

Sam had left voicemail after voicemail, begging you to tell him why you haven’t been to work. Toby refused to tell him what happened, but he knew it had something to do with that night. Not even endless compliments on your prose and speeches from Sam could get you to crawl back there. He gave up after his sixth message.

There was a pile of unopened mail sitting on your kitchen table, along with empty take out containers and a bottle of wine - there may even be a copy of your law school application in the mix, a pity read or two occurring in a drunken haze.

Later that night, after dodging another phone call from Donna and attempting to get as much of your life together as you could, you gave in and sat down to watch CJ’s nine o’clock press brief. You were glad to see that she was off the bench again, and seemed to be back to her usual self.

There was a knock at your door as she opened up for questions, and you hated to think you missed the sound of the press gaggle.

You swung your door open, expecting a large pizza to be shoved into your face, but instead an exhausted Josh Lyman was standing at your door.

“Hi,” he said and began cracking his knuckles. “I would’ve called, but you seem to forget how the phone works.”

“I know how the phone works.” you replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” you sighed. “I walked all the way here, please take pity on me.”

“Fine.” You opened up your door, mostly to shut him up, and ushered him into your home.

“Glad to see you cut yourself off from us completely.” He jeered and pointed to the press briefing on the TV. “You know I’m the one that suggested she make the joke about Hungary, so they should be laughing for me.”

“What did you come here for, Josh?” you asked, again, trying to redraw the boundary between you two.

“Ginger and Bonnie kept saying you were sick, and since no one else heard from you, thought I would check in to see if you were alive. You look pretty not sick to me.”

“Josh-“

“We need you back in the west wing. Toby and Sam are at each other's throats and we need a speech for our first campaign stop. If you don’t get back to the bullpen I’m afraid we’ll never see the written word again.”

“I don’t-”

“I’m not beyond begging or bribing to get you back in there tomorrow morning.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself as he shrugged off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. You tried not to notice how soft he looked in jeans and a sweater. “But you’re not getting my office, or my secretary, or my season tickets to the capitals. I will however put up Sam’s season tickets to-“

“I wrote my letter of resignation, Josh. I’m not coming back.”

You sat down next to him as you watched him freeze, eyes widening the slightest bit. Rendering Josh speechless never gets old, even under these circumstances.

“Toby’s not going to fire you, he was just pissed off the other night. C’mon, if we head down there now I’m sure he’s still there slaving away over this speech-“

“I didn’t write this because I was afraid of getting fired. This is my choice, Josh. I’m choosing to leave the White House.”

You handed him the letter, and he took it with some hesitation. He spent a few minutes reading it, and then rereading it, shaking his head before throwing it back on the table.

“Why?” Was all he asked as he pulled his chair closer to you. You shook your head, not wanting to get into it. He leaned back in his chair, staring at your letter on the table.

“Josh, I’ve spent too much time helping people, specifically men, climb up the political totem pole. I’m tired of writing speeches and bills for someone else to say. I’ve been burned by too many men in my life to be naive enough to be comfortable in one place.”

He moved to pick up the letter, or so you thought, but instead he picked up your law school application.

“Since when have you been interested in law school?” He asked, flipping through the pages of the Georgetown Law School application.

“Since forever,” you said, suddenly growing quiet under the scrutiny of his eyes on your application; your essay was practically a diary about your time working in the west wing. “I couldn’t afford to go after I graduated from UVA, and my parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a girl lawyer in the family. So, I settled and started working on the campaign trails. I think you know the rest from there.”

Josh didn’t say a word in response, you’re not entirely sure he even heard a word you just said. Instead his eyes were darting across the page, flipping page after page to finish reading your essay. Josh had never read your personal work; sure you’ve written dozens of memos and speeches that he had proofed and listened to, but nothing with your voice. Nothing that showcased your intelligence, your compassion, and dedication to learning to improve not only yourself, but the world around you.

It was making you anxious the more he read and the less he spoke. Was it bad? Did he think you were absolutely insane for thinking you could go to law school? You need to get it out of his hands before it completely changes the way he sees you.

“I know it’s a long shot that they would accept me, I haven’t even decided if I’m actually going to apply or not, so-” you tried to take it out of his hands, but he grabbed your wrist before you could reach it.

“They would be absolute fools not to accept you.” he said, slowly lowering your arm back to your lap, not letting go of you yet. “The west wing is going to fall apart without you.”

“You guys will be just fine without me.” you started and rolled your eyes. “Toby has an ego, and a vocabulary, big enough for ten speechwriters. And, I haven’t gotten in yet.”

“You will. And Toby’s ego, no matter how large, will never fill the hole you’re leaving.”

He maneuvered his hand away from his wrist down to your hand, and watched as he laced his fingers with yours. You let out a breath as he rested them on his knee, slowly bringing you closer together.

“So, will you accept my letter of resignation now that you know the full story?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Josh-”

“I have a stipulation to the letter.” he interrupted, the smirk returning to his face. “You stay on until we win re-election, and take on a very part-time consulting position once school starts. You deserve to see this through, and we can’t part with you any sooner.”

How the hell does anyone say no to Josh Lyman? Between his annoyingly handsome signature smirk, his warm brown eyes, and his messy hair, he’s a total heartthrob. But you seemed to have some effect on him too, seeing as he hasn’t let go of you just yet.

“That sounds like a plan, only if you and Toby agree to write me the best recommendations Georgetown has ever seen.”

“I can deliver on Toby, but I’m not so sure I can give you what you’re looking for. I may have a conflict of interest,” he said and squeezed your hand, causing you to laugh. “But I have the next best thing, the President of the United States on speed dial.”

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” His smile spread over his entire face now. “And thank you, for believing in me. And not firing me last night.”

“Well, you were right. A little outspoken, but nothing worse than what Toby has said to the President himself. There’s going to be some change in the west wing now, thanks to you.”

“Who knew all it took to get something done in this city is to have a temper tantrum?”

“Almost every politician in Congress,” Josh added before being interrupted by his pager. His face fell the slightest bit as he let out a sigh. “It’s Leo.”

“Back to work?”

“A crisis awaits,” he said, letting go of your hand as he shrugged his coat back on. Your fingers flexed against your side, already missing the warmth of Josh’s hand in yours. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Bright and early,” You replied as you walked him to the door. “With a desk full of notes from Sam, I’m sure.”

“Oh if only we could all be so lucky.” He joked, as the two of you lingered in the doorway to your apartment. You really didn’t want him to go. “I’ll brief you in the morning, hopefully nothing too serious.”

“Okay. Um, drive safe.” You stumbled over your words, and you didn’t miss the way his dimple jumped out at your expense.

“I will. Have a good night.”

“Night,” you mumbled back, watching as his eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before taking his first step back from you.

“Josh,” you choked out, and he turned back to face you in seconds. He waited for you to say something, but for once in your life, nothing came to mind.

“Cat got your tongue?” He jeered. You hated that he had this effect on you. And he was reveling in it.

“It’s all your fault, you know. Dropping the whole ‘conflict of interest’ bit, and then leaving without any explanation.”

“I’m sorry, let me be a little more clear.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“Such a charmer,” you whispered as he dipped his head down, and finally kissed you.

His lips were softer than you imagined, slowly moving against your own. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this moment before, but it was surpassing everything you thought it would be. Josh was always gentle with you, and he kissed you just the same. He took his time with you, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the feel of his body against yours.

He was the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours as you caught your breath.

“I think that made it very clear how much I like you.”

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

“I like you too.” You replied, placing a light kiss on his jaw before pulling back to get another look at him, dimples on display.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m never going to make it back to the White House,” he joked, and you shoved his chest.

“Then get out of here, Josh. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You smiled as he leaned in to kiss you once more, teasing you as he pulled away, leaving you chasing his lips. You placed one more chaste kiss on his lips before letting go of him.

“Goodnight,” he said, gently squeezing your hand before finally walking down the hall. “I’ll be sure to tell Sam I cured you back to health.”

“In your dreams, Lyman.”

*****

#josh lyman x female!reader #josh lyman x reader #josh lyman fic #josh lyman #the west wing #the west wing fic

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writing-is-hard-af · 3 months ago

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Adore the little details and bits of foreshadowing hinting at Sam being set to be a future president sprinkled throughout the show. Like it's so subtle but also so clear. It's so important to me for whatever reason.

#the west wing #sam seaborn #tww #foreshadowing #debate camp #seaborn for america #I have way too many ideas for a sam as president fic for someone with so little time #and yet it is slightly overwhelming the desire to write it #bits and pieces of plot exist and may exist in the future?#be prepared ig lol

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hawkp · 3 months ago

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Welcome to watch mojo. Today we’re going to listen to my heart shattering into a million pieces.

#as a commenter on one of my fics so eloquently put it #im eating glass #yep #this is from the leak episode #toby ziegler #cj cregg #tww #the west wing

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thebreakfastgenie · 6 months ago

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My favorite Jed/Abbey headcanon is that they had premarital sex and every week Jed went to confession and listed the exact number of times until finally the priest said "say ten hail Marys... or you could just marry the girl."

#the west wing #someday. someday I will write this into a fic.

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brucequeensteen · 2 months ago

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friend groups where everyone in the group has been involved with another at some point in their lives to the point where the friend group is like one very complicated very tense polycule. that's the shit. that's awesome

#reading a west wing fic. cj/toby/josh/sam you will ALWAYS be famous.

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rosewaterandivy · 10 months ago

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Teaser 🖊️

A series of vignettes following President Owens’ senior personnel as they navigate just another day working in the White House.

“Of all the gin joints in all the world,” Steve Harrington croons softly before taking a sip from his now empty glass. The bartender nods to him as he readies the next round.

“Two old fashioneds, coming up.”

The sound of cocktail shakers and lulled conversation surrounds them as he traces an idle finger through the water rings on the bar top.

Clearing his throat, he begins, “I don’t think we’re gonna run the table, if that’s what you’re asking.”

His companion chuckles, “It’s deep background. I won’t even come close to using your name.”

He scoffs, "You’re not gonna come close to getting a quote, either." He nods his thanks to the bartender and grabs his drink.

“Then why are we sitting here?” His companion, the reporter, grouses. And yeah, that is the question, isn’t it?

Well, for one, this may be a Capitol Hill bar but damn if they don’t make a decent old fashioned. He wanted a drink, maybe didn’t think twice about the press crawling all over the Hill today, and well, here he is sat next to some reporter angling for a quote.

“You sat down!” He fires back indignantly, setting down the drink.

Christ, the gall of these guys.

“Is she on the way out?” He presses.

He rolls his eyes, “No.”

“Seriously?” The guys turns, trying to level with him, “Look Harrington, I know you’re colleagues… But did Caldwell say-”

“That’s a generous term.” He takes another sip, “You realize this conversation won’t end well for you, yeah?”

This guy will not let up, “Who do I gotta call, huh?”

“Well, you could call 1-800-BITE ME.”

“Harrington!”

Steve chuckles lowly, fingering the glass, “Look, she’s not going anywhere. It’s a non-story and you know that. Or you would, if you had any sense.”

The reporter admonishes him with a pointed finger, “Okay, you’re lying low, aren’t you? I get it.”

“Aw, that hurts. Why would I lie to the free press of all people?” He polishes off the drink, glancing over the guy’s shoulder.

Huh. Well, ain’t that something?

“Okay,” he allows, drumming his fingers on the bar top. “Then why do you keep looking over my shoulder?”

Steve raises a solitary brow. “Because Hillary Clinton just walked in with her emails.” Can this guy just fuck off already?

“Wait, what?” He turns to look. Steve places a hand on his shoulder to stop him before his cover is blown.

“There’s a woman over there. I think she’s lookin’ at me.”

“Really?”

“Gotten pretty good at sensing this kinda thing,” He reassures him with a smile.

And this reporter, the fuck, slowly and obviously turns to look, to corroborate Steve’s story before turning back. “Yeah, I think she was.”

Steve forcefully claps him on the shoulder, “I wanna thank you for the real casual way you did that just now. She probably didn’t notice that.” He shifts in his seat and drops his hand from the guy to get a better look at the woman in question. She smiles at him and raises her glass.

Hook, line, and sinker.

The soft cadence of the morning news plays dully in the background as Jim Hopper glances through the headlines. He pauses at the crossword section before offering, “17 across is wrong. Can you believe that?”

“What else is new?” Joyce replies, handing him a cup of coffee. “You should file a complaint.”

Jim, lost in plotting his revenge against the New York Times crossword editor, doesn’t hear the phone. “Y’know, I think I will.”

Joyce takes the call as Jim settles himself on the couch, papers still in hand. “Hop there’s a-”

“I’m in the shower!” he calls, nearly spilling his coffee to grab his paper.

“It’s POTUS.”

With an exasperated sigh, Jim drops the morning paper and motions for Joyce to patch the call through.

The New York Times can wait… for now.

The vacuum runs in the office as you fitfully attempt to sleep, arms crossed, hair mussed and face pulled in a grimace. Turns out, your desk isn’t as comfortable as you remembered. A lamp remains on, casting a soft glow on the surface; papers scattered, pens uncapped, and cell phone nearly dead.

Beep-beep-beep…beep-beep-beep…beep-beep-beep.

The alarm blearily wakes you; scrubbing a hand across your face and blinking wearily before swiping across the screen of your cell to unlock it. Quickly, you read the message and grab the phone on your desk, keying in a four-digit code.

“Hey,” you croak, voice laden with sleep, “Got the message. Now, what the fuck going on?”

“Sir,” The flight attendant urges, “Sir, I’m going to need you to put away your phone.”

The man in question continues the lazy perusal of emails, ignoring her.

She sighs, “Sir, please put your phone away. It interferes with our navigational systems.”

He smiles, “You know when you say that, it sounds pretty ridiculous, right?” He chuckles before continuing his task.

Another flight attendant comes down the aisle from the cockpit. She leans over the empty seat in front of him, “Mr. Munson? A message was just patched up to the cockpit for you. I’m not sure I’ve got it right.” She reads from the scrap of paper in her hand, “POTUS in a roller skating accident?”

He glances up at her, “You got it right sugar, thank you.” And drops his attention back to the phone, quickly typing out a message.

“Again, you cannot use your phone until we land, sir.”

He scoffs. “We’re flying in a Lockheed Eagle series L-1011. It came off the line 20 months ago. It carries a SIM-5 transponder tracking system. Are you telling me I can still flummox this thing with the latest IOS update?”

This poor woman.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “You can call once we land, sir.” And takes her leave of him.

“Hey sugar,” he calls after her, “I never got my peanuts.”

“How ya doin’ Steve?” she calls snuffing a joint out on an ashtray.

“Let me tell ya somethin’ doll,” his voice echoes from the bathroom, “I am envious of this water pressure you have here.”

She giggles before settling back against the pillows, “I know.”

“Ya consider running hydraulics in there?” He moves from the hall back into the bedroom, scrubbing a towel through his hair, clothed in his boxer briefs. He makes a cursory search for his pants and shirt from last night until she perks up from the bed.

“Oh!” she moves to the nightstand to find their phones, “I’m sorry, your message--your phone went off when you were showering. I grabbed it, thinking it was mine. ‘POTUS in a roller skating accident. Come to the office.’ And I memorized it, just in case.”

Steve makes quick work of his clothes while she rattles on about… well, something or other.

“Hey, I’m sorry but I have to go.”

She stops rambling, “But it’s 5:30 in the morning.”

He sighs, “I know this doesn’t look good.”

“Not really, no,” she pouts.

He sits back on the bed, “But I really like you and if you give me your number, I can call you.”

She scrambles toward him across the duvet, “Why don’t you stay here yourself and save yourself the call.”

He huffs a laugh, “It’s not that I don’t see the logic in that, but-”

“POTUS was in a roller skating accident.”

He hums in agreement as she airdrops her contact to him. “Hmm..” she hums passing Steve his phone and drawing him toward her for a lazy goodbye kiss. “Tell your friend POTUS he’s got a funny name, and he needs to learn how to roller skate.”

Steve pulls back, securing a tie around his collar. “Well, I would, but he’s not my friend, he’s my boss. And it’s not his name, it’s his title.” He grabs the rest of his belongings and makes toward the door to leave.

“POTUS?”

He pauses at the door, “Yeah, President of the United States.” He opens the door and walks down the hallway, “I’ll call ya!”

Jim Hopper makes his way into the White House, tossing his belongings to the security officers and stepping through the metal detector. It goes off every time. Flashing his badge and keying in his code, he quickly walks across the corridor and into the bullpen. Greetings fly by as he maneuvers through the desks and filing cabinets.

“Hey Franz,” he offers, avoiding yet another file being handed to him. He turns against the corner of a desk and keeps walking.

“It’s Frank!” someone corrects from the filing cabinets.

“Whatever!” Hopper replies as he descends on Erica’s desk. “Morning, Mayfield. Is she in?”

Max smiles and greets, “Morning Hop. She’s back in her office.” Then continues to type away on her computer.

Hopper rolls his eyes and clears his throat, waiting. He fiddles with some papers as the minutes trickle by. Erica continues with her work, seemingly oblivious. “Can you go get her?”

“Oh, sure.” She replies, “You alive back there?” she yells down the small hallway.

Hopper smiles, ears still ringing from her caterwaul, “Wonderful job, top-notch, really.”

Instead of returning to her work, Max rests her chin upon her hand and glances up at Hopper, “I heard it’s broken.”

He scoffs, “You heard wrong, Red. It’s not broken, it’s a mild sprain. He’ll be back later today.”

Max processes the new information. “What caused the accident?”

Hopper shoves the papers under his arm, “What are you, State Farm?” He crosses her desk admonishing, “Go, do a job, would ya?” He waits until clearing her desk completely before rapping his knuckles against the surface and mumbling, “He was swerving to avoid a pothole.”

Robin Buckley steps into Hop’s office first, balancing a binder precariously in the crook of her elbow trying to dodge the numerous people flitting in and out of the room. She spies Hopper rounding the corner of his desk and beelines for him.

“Is there anything other I can say than the President skated himself into a tree?” Her tone is resigned with the hint of a whine because only something this ridiculous would happen after she’s finally gotten the Press Corps to somewhat respect her.

“He hopes to never do it again,” Hop supplies, kicking his feet up on his desk and sending a stack of papers careening to the floor.

“Seriously Hop, they’re laughing pretty hard.”

“He skated into a tree Rob, whaddya want me— ‘The President while roller skating on his vacation in California came to a sudden arboreal stop.’ The fuck you want from me?”

Robin scoffs and jots down a few notes, “A little compassion would do a world of good Chief.”

Steve joins her soon after, prompting Hop’s attention as he scribbles furiously at his crossword.

“Harrington, what’s the word on the migrants?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “The intel you got from the deputy is the same as mine. 1,200 migrants embarked from a fishing village in Cuba 30 miles south of Havana.”

One of the aides pipes up, “Where are they headed?”

Eddie settles into a worn club chair and tosses a dossier on the floor, “Vegas, duh.”

“Miami,” You correct kicking the door closed behind you. “Though the navigational equipment is severely lacking.” Typing out a message on your phone, you press send and pocket it. “Y’know if one of these guys could throw a split-fingered fastball—”

“Kid,” Hop warns.

“We’d send in the U.S.S. Eisenhower,” You continue, voice brokering no argument.

“Okay," Robin allows, "That’s not entirely true.”

“For fuck’s sake, forget about the journey,” Eddie grouses from his seat, “The voyage is not our problem.”

Robin turns, craning her neck to look back at him. “Then what’s our problem genius?”

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and beleagueredly rubs at his eyes. “Our problem is what we do when the Nina, the Pinta, and the Get Me the Hell Outta Here hit the port of Miami.”

“Harrington,” Hop prompts, not glancing up from his paper.

The Communications Director straightens up. “Can’t send ‘em back. They’d go to jail at best and at worst—”

“We’ll get spanked in what?” Hop hypothesizes, “Three districts? Dade county—”

“Kiss those seats goodbye,” Eddie agrees. “Texas—”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about Texas right now," Robin advises.

“Not to mention that it’s wrong? Like, morally wrong?” You say to no one, since they’re all seemingly ignoring your very valid and correct talking points.

“Harrington, keep the Kid in the loop on this throughout the day.”

“And normally, I’d be happy to,” Steve attempts to needle his way out of it, “But my day’s a little tight and isn’t this more of a military area?”

Hop drops his pen and heaves a sigh. Eddie looks at him like he’s spouted two more heads. Robin barks a laugh and then coughs to cover it up.

“I’m sorry,” You begin, with one of those smiles that tells Steve you’re about to eviscerate him publically and ruin his day. “Do you think the United States is under attack from 1,200 migrants in row boats?”

“I’m not saying I don’t like our chances,” He hedges.

Eddie scoffs, “Mind boggling to me that we ever won an election.”

“Who’s getting trigger-happy— Conroy?”

“Yeah, wants to send in the National Guard.”

Which prompts a bit of cross-talking. First from you, who says, “He shouldn’t.” Then from Steve with a “He’s right.” And lastly from Robin: “It’d create a panic situation.”

Eddie chuckles to himself, “I agree with the Kid, Steve, and Robin. And you know how that makes me crazy Chief?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” Hop says shuffling some papers around on his desk.

“They’re running for their lives. You don’t fuckin’ start a game of red rover with Cuba, and you don’t send in the National Guard.” He eyes you, and can hear you thinking from across the room.

“Right.” You nod, “Because you send in food and doctors.”

Steve has inched his way closer to the door by this point, he’d much rather be dealing with the new aides in the Communications office than spend another minute being delegated responsibilities for the day.

“Harrington,” You call out, “See that I.N.S. works with the Red Cross and Centers for Disease Control.”

“Sure.” He sighs, “Lemme get my C.D.C. guy on the phone.”

“Jesus!” Hop drawls, “Go— talk to him!”

“Uh, yep.” He unearths his phone, “Calling him now.” Steps out of the office and makes his escape just as Hop sighs.

“Okay, now let’s talk about you and your dressing down of the Christian right on public prime-time television, Kid.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #the west wing au #fic: wn?

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