#like how’re thomas and james doing

[pip3dream]

can we bring back the hype for Matthew Fairchild and his own story. like for once this man gets a love interest that wants him back and they stay together. happily.

[shinymooncolor]

Hi 💖💖

@lumosinlove is amazing. Sweater Weather is amazing. This chat and this blog and Olli and me love you all and we’re proud allies and everyone deserves to be happy and be themselves.

Here’s a little, short chat for you all. @frombeauxbatons helped me with a lot of ideas for this one 😍

I know this might not be totally realistic but. Heck, it’s fiction. 💜🖤🤍

Tried something new. So - the last part is a live interview during broadcast. All comments and thoughts and criticism welcome 😇 if you like it, I’ve got another chat for that...

So, sweater weather chat #13

Finn has a vision. And no one understands him. Sergei yells. Dumo and Sunny are pranksters. Kuny wants more lions. Olli is a good boy. The girls are proud of their boys. So much glitter.

—

Saturday 9.22 pm

Prongstar: sooo. Finn just got kicked out from the Arena by Alice. Hahahahah poor baby. He’s almost crying.

Siriusly: what happened?

DumoDad: apparently Finn’s vision was not welcomed by Alice and her team. 😂

CarbO’Hara: THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I AM AN ARTIST AND THEY ARE SILENCING MY GENIUS

CarbO’hara: she’s mean. I was just giving some constructive criticism. 😣

Newt-leo: I’ve decorated a room with you. I have to side with Alice on this one.

Ollibear: you made one of the interns cry Finn. 🥺

CarO’Hara: HOW HARD IS IT. Certain colours match. Some don’t. It’s just stupid. I could’ve decorated that arena and the locker room way better.

Nadotheman: You’re not decorating my stall. Alice promised we could each decorate our own. Don’t you try and go pridezilla on us now.

Logantremblayzzz: leave us out. Finn is a nightmare when it comes to aestethics… you’d think he was a goalie…

Blizzard: HEY

Newt-leo: HEY

Sunnysideup: ohhh someone is on the couch tonight 😜😜😜😜

Sergei_81: I decorate my stall. Stay away.

RussianGod: I want more lions. I only got little lion. 😳

Siriusly: I get most lions. I’m captain.

Timmyforrealz: OLLI HAS 8 LIONS?!?!?!?

Ollibear: don’t you dare touch them. I will make you regret it

Nadotheman: how come you get 8???? She said there was only a certain amount

Siriusly: because no one can not crumble when Olli turns on the puppy eyes. Also everyone in the front office loves him. He never causes trouble, rarely fights and he’s just a good boy.

Ollibear: you know I’m older than you right?

DumoDad: you’re still a good boy, Olli!

Ollibear: this is weird. But I’ll take the praise.

—

Sunday 8.22 am

Blizzard: SERGEI IS YELLING AT KUNY IN THE LOCKER ROOM!!!!!

Prongstar: be right there

Siriusly: I don’t understand russian. But it sounds bad @sunnysideup

Talkiewalkie: why is his hair blue?

Blizzard: all I gathered was something something prank something something castrate something something blue

TalkieWalkie: ohhhh. Apparently someone put blue dye in Sergei’s shampoo… Oh this is fucking golden. Who came up with that 😍

Ollibear: why is he yelling at Kuny about it?

Sunnysideup: he thinks Kuny did it, Kuny claims he was framed… OH that was something about mothers. Ouch

Timmyforrealz: russian is so much cooler when cursing people 😉

Nadotheman: the blue suits him though. Makes him look younger

Newt-leo: you’d think Kuny would try to hide behind someone bigger?

Blizzard: No it’s a lot funnier this way. Poor Logan to be caught in the middle of it though 🙈

CarbO’Hara: I like how our resident gigantic enforcer is using Logan as a human shield.

Ollibear: you’re not going to rescue him? Not very chivalrous

Newt-leo: he can handle himself. Also it’s funny to see Kuny trying to hide behind him…

Blizzard: Who did come up with it? @prongstar?

Prongstar: shit I don’t have the balls to prank Sergei… Have you seen his uppercuts?

DumoDad: @sunnysideup?

Sunnysideup: 😇😇😇😇 hehehehe hehehehe ask dumo....

Nadotheman: should I rescue kuny? He’s my ride today after all. Dolores is at the car doctor. And we’re raising a cat together

LeWilliam: maybe someone distract Sergei… I’m scared…

DumoDad: Olli can do it. He loves Olli.

Ollibear: cowards. And of course he loves me. I’m the only sane one on this team.

——

Sunday 9.53 am

NatALLY: OH MY GOD!!! LOOK AT ALL THESE RAINBOWS

GingerLily: I love it! It’s adorable. Also, have you seen Finn, Logan and Leo’s jerseys?

Anyaismyname: that is cute.

Celeste: Anya… Is Sergei’s hair blue?

Linnea: yes it is. Because my idiot husband thought it was funny. And apparently he framed some of the younger boys…….

Celeste: why do I have a feeling Pascal is part of this?

Linnea: because we can’t leave them alone for 5 minutes?

Anyaismyname: they asked me to help. I helped. ;)

NatALLY: I love that! Hahaha

Linnea: what does the color on olli’s stick mean? 😌

NatALLY: hmm black, grey, white and purple. ITS ACE!!! So brave!!! 💜🖤🤍

Celeste: I love how they’re all wearing some sort of flag or colors. Proud of our boys!

GingerLily: so brave - James even bought Harry a little rainbow onesie. 🏳️‍🌈😍

Anyaismyname: we did good my lovelies 💖

NatALLY: I can’t all the glitter. Ohhh kase is not gonna be happy if that gets in his hair

GingerLily: I’m not going to tell him that James’ put glitter in his hat then.

NatALLY: please don’t 😂😂 Hahahaha

——

Sunday 10.00 am

“We’re live from Hogwarts where the Gryffindor lions are hosting a charity family skate event for lgbt+ mental health organizations. Remember to tweet, text or dm us with your questions during the broadcast and I’ll do my best to get replies from the players.”

“Joining me for a quick interview is fan favorite Thomas Walker”

“Walker, you’re wearing a rainbow jersey and is that glitter?”

“Ha yeah man! Proud ally here!!! And yeah somehow O’Hara and Nado got their hands on a box of body glitter and lemme tell ya, the locker room sparkles”

“That sounds fun. Is that the case for Ivanov’s hair too? Or is that a statement we’ve missed?”

“Ask him. Snitches get stitches eh?”

“Thanks Walker and as he’s skating away, we have Jackson Nadeau joining us. Also sporting the custom lions rainbow jersey and glitter, a lot of glitter”

“What’s wrong with glitter? I’m casual enough with myself to wear glitter”

“I’m sure you are - how’re you both feeling with this event?”

“Supporting our captain and close friends and anyone else who’ve been told they don’t belong. Lions are for all!”

“You feel strongly about this, Jackson, I didn’t mean any harm. Have there been reactions yet?”

“It’s hockey, what do you think? Lots of dicks out there but also a lot of guys who just wants to play and doesn’t care. You guys are making a fuss. Not us”

“I can ensure that the quibbler has no qualms with your captain or anything. We’re proud allies as well - which is why we’re covering this”

“Yeah thanks for that!”

“Seems like you’re having fun out there - is everyone participating today?

“ yeah uhm, I think, i mean, Kane is on IR with his elbow but he’s skating today. Not playing I think. Front office got us some cool stuff. I know I’m rocking this rainbow look. Some guys chose to wear other stuff which is cool too... kuny got glitter in his eye and is wearing a weird hat”

“I’m think you jealous”

“Haha! hello there Evgeni! How’re you enjoying today?”

“I’m have fun. Is good to. Uhm”

“Support?”

“Yeah support”

“Haha he wouldn’t survive a day without me”

“Well I’ve been following your Instagram recently - how’s your cat?”

“Princess is best cat”

“She’s good! Wanted to bring her but she’s at home with the sitter”

.... to be continued....

[frostywindmademoan]

A Worthy Adversary

Pt. 5 in a multi chapter OC fic featuring Michael Gray

“You look beautiful darling.” Michael smiled as Clara came down the stairs dressed for the party. “Oh stop, you’re just obligated to say that.” She walked over to a little mirror on the wall to make sure her hair was falling just right. Michael walked right up behind her and began to kiss her exposed neck. “I say it because it’s true. And it’s also bullshit that you think I’m obligated to say it cause you know damn well how beautiful you are.” He chuckled against her skin. He relished her scent. “You’re right, it is bullshit. Guess you’ve been rubbing off on me.” Michael saw her reflection smirk at him.

“You’re unbearable.” He nipped at her neck. He enjoyed playing around and calling her terrible, when they both knew how smitten he actually was. “You’re looking quite wonderful yourself Mr Gray.” Clara turned around to stroke the red tie that matched her dress. “That’s more bullshit. I’ve got a bruise the size of a golfball on my cheek.” Michael scoffed. “No, I think the bruise is lovely. The deep blue clouding into purple. It’s a beautiful badge of honor.” She gently reached up and traced the outline of the bruise. The spot was tender, but Michael enjoyed the slight ache her fingers brought him. “Most people find bruises unseemly.” Michael whispered. “Most people don’t take the time to really look at a bruise. It’s the result of a violent act, but it looks like a watercolor masterpiece. It’s physical poetry.” Clara crooned. “How are you able to make words smell sweet?” Michael kept his voice low as he stood within an inch of Clara’s lips. “I find confusing the senses amusing. Sounds, smells, sight, I aim to excite them all.” She hummed. “Fuck Clara, you know I can’t resist these kinds of words from you.” Michael moaned against her lips as he began to kiss her deeply. Clara chuckled deep in her throat as she returned Michael’s kiss. Her laugh reverberated through him. To his displeasure, she pulled away. “We don’t want to be late.” Clara smirked at him before strutting off towards the door. “Fuck you!” He groaned and she giggled in response. 

Once at the party the couple received a warm welcome. Clara had become well liked amongst the Shelby family. She was a very good fit for them. Even John had forgiven her about James. “Tommy, is that not the very bloke we were after last night when everything went to hell?” Michael pointed to a middle aged man in a well pressed suit at the end of the bar. “Very observant Michael. He didn’t realize it was us last night cause we never got far enough past his crew for him to see us and for us to be recognized. I invited him so we can get a chance to get him off by himself, away from his muscle, so we can take care of him.” Tommy explained. “Jesus Thomas, and here I thought you had actually wanted to celebrate your birthday. It’s all just a set up.” Polly shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve heard of murder mystery themed parties before, but this is rather thorough. I appreciate your dedication to the ambiance of the evening Tommy.” Clara smirked as she brought a glass of champagne to her lips. Michael smiled at her humor. “How’re you gonna get him alone?” Arthur asked.  “I figured I’d entice him with a little sweet treat. That treat could lead him away from the other guests.” Tommy vaguely answered. “Treat?” John repeated. Instead of replying, Tommy just fixed his eyes on Clara. She connected the dots a beat before the others did. “Oh, that’s very clever.” She giggled. “What? No! What the hell are you thinking?” Michael realized what was being implied. “It’ll be perfectly simple. Clara walks over, flirts a bit, suggests they go outside to get some air together, and she leads him right to us.” Tommy tried to explain. “No, Clara isn’t bait.” Michael shook his head. “I don’t mind. It might be fun even.” She shrugged. “No, absolutely not.” Michael stood firm. “It’ll take, what, half an hour at most?” Clara reasoned. “You don’t even know who the hell that guy is. He’s fucking dangerous Clara! You aren’t doing this!” Michael raised his voice at her. “Well now I’m certainly doing it. When and where do you want me to deliver him?” She turned to Tommy. “Out the back door in the kitchen. Nobody else will be down there. I’ll make sure we’re all there by 9:30 so bring him sometime after then.” Tommy instructed. “See you all at 9:30 then.” She began to waltz off over to the mob boss and Michael tried, in vein, to call after her and stop her. “Let her go mate, she knows what she’s doing.” John placed a steady hand on Michael’s shoulder. “The fuck she does! She doesn’t even know his fucking name!” Michael threw his hand off. “That’ll make her all the more convincing. He won’t suspect a pretty face making an honest introduction.” Tommy reasoned. Michael lost it and lunged at him. “I swear to God Tommy if ANYTHING happens to her you are fucking DEAD!” Michael had grabbed ahold of Tommy’s collar and had roughly pulled him down so that Michael could be in his face. “Calm the fuck down! You know damn well she can do this. She’s an expert at this kind of magic.” Arthur pulled Michael away. “Just cool down mate. If you don’t want her hurt then you need a level head when she leads him away. You can’t be distracted like you were last night. It might not be your shoulder that gets fucked this time.” John warned. His words enraged Michael, but he knew he was right.

Clara worked her charm and in no time she had the mob boss eating out of the palm of her hand. She was beyond excited that the boss’ name turned out to be James. She had perched herself on the arm of the chair that James was lounging in. She would lean down to him to whisper in his ear, creating a space between them that was all their own, a space she knew James was beginning to trust. Clara would laugh and rest her arm on his shoulder. The smallest bit of attention went far with a man. Make that attention the slightest bit physical and they go mad. Clara marveled at how men were able to assume that they were such hot shit that if a woman smiles at them she must want to fuck. Clara glanced at the watch hanging from James’ vest. It was 9:28, time to set things in motion. To be safe, she did a quick scan of the room to make sure the Shelbys weren’t upstairs. James then said something mildly humorous that Clara acted like was the funniest thing ever said. She made sure to laugh until her face was good and red. She began to dramatically fan herself with her hand. “It’s rather hot in here next to you. Would you maybe like to join me for a little stroll outside in the fresh air? We could maybe go somewhere a bit quieter.” She crooned while pretending to fix his collar, making sure her fingers were lightly brushing his neck. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” A devious smile grew on his lips. They both stood and Clara took his hand, leading the way. “I know a back way were no one will see us disappear.” She smirked, trying to project a sexual insinuation. He followed her like a blind puppy dog. “Right this way. No one will interrupt us.” She gave a girlish giggle. Clara led him by the hand downstairs to the kitchen. “That door goes straight outside where it’s dark and no one will see.” She got close enough to whisper this in his ear. “Then what are we waiting for?” James grinned and headed straight for the door, opening it. Clara lingered back as James took a few steps out. As soon as he was just out of her sight Clara heard James grunt and groan as a blow landed on him. Clara slinked her way over to the door and leaned leisurely against the doorframe. She had a front row seat. The ghost of a smile hung to her lips as she watched the Peaky Blinders hit and kick the shit out of the boss. Michael momentarily glanced up and saw Clara overseeing the event. He felt the sudden urge to impress her. He grabbed the blade from his jacked. He picked James up off of the ground by the collar. “You never get to touch my girl again.” He spat in James’ face right before plunging the knife in his neck. He was becoming good at this. The neck was quickly becoming his calling card. He hit James right in the jugular, causing a steady flow of blood to pump from the wound. He dropped like a stone to the ground. “Jesus Michael.” John scrunched his nose up at the gory sight. “So who’ll get rid of the body?” Clara asked, clearly intrigued. “We’ve got some muscle that takes care of that for us. I’ll go call them now.” Arthur stepped over the body, careful to not get blood on his wing tipped shoes. “His men, he’s got 4 of ‘em upstairs. How are you gonna ease their suspicions?” She kept up her questions. “I’m going to have you stay out of sight for the rest of the night and then have a few people start whispering around that they saw you two leave together, drunk and giggling.” Tommy answered. “Fair enough. Don’t worry John, now that he’s dead you’re the one James in my life.” She winked at him. “Fuck off.” He pushed past her to get inside. “I’ll go start those rumors.” Tommy began to walk into the kitchen. “Wait! You’re gonna go tell everyone she’s some kind of whore or something?  Everyone Is going to assume she’s the one who made him disappear!” Michael protested. “I told him my name name is Rosie and that I was up from London. Everyone upstairs is toasted enough to not remember my face exactly. To them I’m a raven haired girl in red named Rosie from London. If they pass me on the street they’ll think I’m the raven haired girl in the nurses uniform named Clara from Birmingham. I’m covered.” Clara shoved Michael’s concern off. “I told you she knew what she was doing.” Tommy smiled and then continued on inside. “C’mon killer, lets get you cleaned up.” She held her hand out to Michael, which he took so she could lead him inside.

Chapter List Here

[fantasyfortheages]

Far From Over

It wasn’t that she was purposely avoiding the lot after that night, she just had no real reason to hang around, that, and she also needed a break from her mother and brother.

 After that evening she talked to her mother briefly and told her they needed to let her think on it, and to stop pushing her or she’d never come around. Beth was much like Jean, in that, her children were everything to her, and to not see them, would crush her, especially after the loss of Dane.

 “Hey Mom,” Sarah answered as she took her clothes out of the dryer, one by one, and folded them neatly into a basket.

 “Hey baby, how are you?”

 “Good….” She could hear it in her mother’s voice that she had a question lingering, “What’s up?” Sarah paused folding for a second and leaned against her dryer.

 “Oh, I just haven’t seen you in awhile…was thinking about getting some take out tonight, your favorite. Thought if you’d like to join me, we could eat in the office, watch the fight that’s happening in the ring tonight….”

 Sarah paused for a second, her mother was being very gentle and cautious with her invitation, which made her feel sad that she’d been avoiding her, “….Oh…it is Friday isn’t it?”

 “Yeah, time is flying by…so what do you say? Just us, no serious talks….”

 “Yeah…” She began to fold her clothes again, “Yeah of course I’ll come. Just remember to get extra crab rangoons.”

 “Oh, they know by now how many to give us…” Her mother let out a small laugh, which made Sarah smile, “I’ll see you tonight, come over whenever you’re ready. Love you honey.”

 “Love you too mom.”

 --

She’d spent most of the day cleaning, and getting laundry prepared for Monday. This was her last few days on leave and she’d be heading back to school at the start of the week, so she was also trying to mentally prepare herself.

 After washing up and throwing on an outfit, she made her way out of the door and to her car. The sun was beginning to set as she made her way into the full lot. As she was pulling in to park her car she saw him, Ryan, standing with some of the other guys near the entrance of the clubhouse.

 “Ah shit,” She mumbled to herself, almost forgetting that he was going to be here. It’d be the first time they saw each other since….their rendez-vous and she wasn’t sure how it’d be. She was hoping they could both pretend nothing happened, and then she wouldn’t have to think about it when she was around her mom or Jean.

 “Well, well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with her presence, the princess of the lot,” Chibbs joked throwing his arm around her shoulder as she made her way across the lot towards the office.

 “Hey Chibbs,” She chuckled.

 “How’re you doing kiddo?” He looked at her, the question having a deeper meaning.

 “I’m fine…really….” She gave him a small smile.

 “Alright,” He kissed her forehead, “Uncle Chibb’s is here if you need anything, you hear me?”

 “I hear you.” She squeezed her arms around him until she saw her brother practically run out of the office a smirk on his face.

 “Thomas James!” Her mother squawked from inside the office.

 “What happened?” Sarah poked her head in.

 “Delicious rangoon!” Tom shouted toward his sister as he backed up from the office.

 Sarah rolled her eyes and flipped him the bird before setting her stuff down on a chair.

 “Little brat ate some of our rangoons.”

 “It’s okay,” She wrapped her mother in a hug, “Some day, he’ll get fat, and we can laugh.”

 Beth burst out into laughter and pushed her daughter away playfully, “Oh stop,” she put some plates down in front of them, “Fill up your plate, the fight’s going to start soon.”

 --

 Growing up as a club kid you come to appreciate a certain amount of violence, and watching the guys beat each other down in the ring fulfilled a certain desire. She’d always loved a good fight, except when it was her dad, though he’d never lost a fight in his life.

 Her mother had brought out lounge chairs, and they were sitting right outside of the office, and Jean had joined them. They were able to watch the fight, but also hold a conversation without being interrupted by the cheers and yells from the crowd. The conversations were mostly about Sarah getting back to school that Monday, and Amanda being almost done with her residency. Sarah tried not to jump too deep into that conversation, because as much as she wanted her best friend to be close to home, she knew how Amanda felt, and didn’t want to be just another person that pressured her to come back to Charming.

 As Beth and Jean got lost into a topic Sarah had no interest with, she focused solely on the fight. At a dull moment in the fight, she noticed the clubhouse door open, and Ryan walk out, a blonde underneath his arm. She inexplicably rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair. It seemed as if everything was now going back to normal, which she didn’t mind at all.

[thundercaya]

Thomas gets dumped and James makes him feel better. Requested by anon, echoed by @blukiii @passionate-fiction @jointhefight  @manicromaniac

 It wasn’t Thomas Jefferson’s first breakup. It wasn’t even his first time being the one who had been dumped. But it was the first time that it seemed to come out of nowhere. He and his boyfriend John Adams had both entered an essay-writing competition to win a guided tour of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California, and when the result had come in on Friday in Thomas’ favor, John hadn’t taken it well. He accused Thomas of not really caring about the trip and only entering with the intent to sabotage John’s chances. Then John had broken up with him.

 Now it was Sunday evening and Thomas was lying across his bed, face buried in his arms with a pile of used tissues littering the floor in front of him. He’d been this way most of the weekend, picking at the food his mother left on his dresser, and grateful for his private bathroom which prevented him from having to go out into the rest of the house to perform necessary functions. His mother and various siblings had checked on him a few times, but each time he asked them to leave, they obeyed his wishes.

 There was a knock on the door and then it opened slowly. Thomas lifted his head to tell whichever family member that he still didn’t want to talk about it, but he was surprised to find his best friend James Madison peeking into the room instead.

 “Thomas?” James greeted cautiously. “Your mother said I could come up. Can I come in?”

 Thomas shrugged his shoulders, then dropped his face back into his arms. He heard the door close, then felt James’ weight settle beside him. For a while the room was silent aside from Thomas’ own sniffling.

 “How’re you doing?” James asked finally.

 “How do you think?” Thomas muttered.

 James sighed, then a hand settled into Thomas hair, fingers brushing through slowly. “I’m sorry he did that to you. It’s fucked up.”

 “No fucking kidding. I thought he was happy being with me.”

 “He was,” James said. “He was lucky to have you. But he’s a petty idiot, and if he’d let you go because you were successful, then he doesn’t deserve that kind of happiness.”

 “Well, maybe he deserves to be miserable and alone, but why do I have to be, too?” Thomas demanded. His tone was still sour, but his body was relaxing significantly under the continued touch of James’ hand in his hair.

 “You won’t be for long, I’ll tell you that much,” James soothed. “You’re a total catch. Someone’ll snatch you up in no time.”

 “Yeah?” Thomas scoffed. “Well, where the hell are they? I’m ready any time.”

 James huffed out a laugh. “Thomas, you’ve been in your room all weekend. When does anyone have the chance to make a move? Besides, I’m sure they’d rather wait a socially acceptable amount of time. Wouldn’t want to look like a vulture.”

 “Vulture, huh? I wouldn’t mind getting eaten right now.”

 James’ hand stopped moving suddenly. Thomas didn’t think there was anything wrong with his joke; James certainly made plenty of dirty jokes of his own. Before Thomas could worry about it much more, James started moving his hand again.

 “A little patience, Thomas. And even if new romance doesn’t happen right away, you’ve still got your trip to JPL to look forward to. You wanted it. You earned it. You need to enjoy it.”

 Thomas lifted his head. “Yeah.” He scrambled into a sitting position and reached for his phone on his nightstand. “I am going to enjoy the hell out of it, and I will fill my Snapchat story with every damn thing there that isn’t classified.”

 James chuckled. “I’m sure they’re not gonna show you anything classified.”

 “Yeah, yeah,” Thomas dismissed. “The point is, everyone is gonna see how cool my life is and how much better I’m doing than John.” He grabbed a tissue which he used to wipe his face and blow his nose before adding it to the pile on the floor. With his other hand, he opened Snapchat.

 “Get in here, James,” he said, throwing an arm around James’ shoulders and pulling him in close for a selfie. He gave a smile so bright that the only hint that he’d just been crying was the redness of his eyes, easily fixed with the right filter. “Come on, smile!”

 James flashed the same bared-toothed, furrowed-browed look that he always gave when confronted with a camera, and Thomas snapped a picture. He captioned it “ME AND THE BEST PERSON I HAVE EVER KNOWN IN MY LIFE” and then added it to his story.

 “Thank you, James,” Thomas said, giving his friend a squeeze.

 James gave a smile that was much warmer than the one he’d managed for the picture. “For what?”

 “For everything,” Thomas said. “Encouraging me to to enter that contest. Looking over my essay for me. Coming here today to check on me. Reminding me that it’s not all bad. Thank you so much.”

 “You deserve to be successful. And happy. That’s all I want for you.”

 Thomas squeezed James again. “Thank you for that, too.”

[yourobedientslytherin]

The Upper Hand: Jefferson x Reader {Part 7}

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Hamilton -- Modern AU (Law School)

Jefferson x Reader

2,026 words

Part 7! I’m just gonna say sorry now... Another filler chapter that didn’t turn out how I had planned. Better chapters will come soon, including the reveal of who the reader has been staying with for the last couple of days. 

Thomas stares at the blinking curser at the top of his Word document, his mind anywhere but the 10-page paper due tomorrow at 11:30am. Knowing that the ringer is on full volume, he resists the urge to check his phone. If you contact him, he will definitely hear it.

Three days without a word from you, no answer to the dozens of phone and text messages he had sent to you. Messages like,

Saturday, 11:45am: Y/N? I understand why you’re not picking up. I just wanted to apologize for my behavior. It was childish and immature and I can see why you’re so upset. I regret my actions and words toward Hamilton, for your sake. Okay, well, please call me back so I know you’re okay. Bye.

Saturday, 4:26pm: I guess you’re still not answering your phone. I’m just calling to apologize again. I’m sorry that I hurt you. And I’m sorry about your dress. You looked so beautiful in my favorite color.

Sunday, 3:58pm: Y/N, please answer. I miss you so much, and I’m worried. I can’t believe I messed this up. You deserve so much better than me. But… please, Y/N, give me a second chance. I…I need you.

Monday, 7:19pm: I know that I should just take the hint and stop calling, but you weren’t in class today. Are you okay? I took notes for you in Washington’s class and emailed them to you. And, just in case you forgot, our presentation is this Thursday. I understand if you don’t want to speak to me, but we have to finish our project. So if you won’t call me to talk about us, then please can we discuss the presentation? Bye.

He feels incomplete without you around, like he lost an important body part and all that’s left is a gaping hole. He hadn’t realized how much better his life was with you in it. Your laugh had the ability to brighten his whole day; when you glared or rolled your eyes at him, he could only think about how cute you looked. He finds himself thinking about the way you always tightened your ponytail when you were getting serious about something, or how you nibbled on your lower lip when you were deep in thought.

A knock at Thomas’ open bedroom door jerks him back to the present. James Madison stands in the doorway, solemnly holding a bowl and spoon in one hand. He looks Thomas over, his scruffy, unshaven beard, his unkempt hair sticking out in more crazy directions than usual, his sweatpants and baggy shirt. Never has he seen Thomas so un-put together. Y/N must really be doing a number on him.

James walks to Thomas’ desk and hands him a bowl of mac ‘n’ cheese. Surprisingly, Thomas places it beside the laptop and wordlessly nods at him. James has never seen Thomas leave mac ‘n’ cheese untouched.

“How’re you doing?” James asks quietly.

Thomas lets out a half-grunt, half-snort. “I think I lost her.”

“You’ve never lost anything before.”

“This is different.” The taller man leans his head into his hands. “She has a mind of her own. I can’t just make her do what I want.”

James chuckles. “That’s good for you. You need someone who can stand up to you.”

“But she’s gone. I’ve called her more times than I can count, but she won’t pick up. I barely got a chance with her, and I blew it.”

“I think that when she’s ready, she’ll contact you. She seems like she needs some space.”

Shaking his head, Thomas looks up at his friend. “I’m afraid that if she has too much time, she’ll forget me.”

“She could never forget you, Jefferson. You’re unforgettable.” James motions to the bowl of rapidly cooling mac ‘n’ cheese. “Now eat something. You’ll feel better.”

When James leaves, Thomas takes a bite of his favorite comfort food.

Suddenly, his phone rings, startling him into almost falling off his chair. He recovers quickly and grabs it, reading a number he doesn’t recognize, and answers.

“Yeah?”

“Jefferson?” a masculine voice asks.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Hamilton.”

Thomas’ voice turns cold. “What do you want?”

“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but... have you heard anything from Y/N?”

“She made it pretty clear that we were done.”

“So, no?”

“Nope.”

“Shit.”

Thomas’s heart quickens. “Why?”

“It’s just that nobody’s heard from her since Friday at the restaurant. Laf, Herc, and Laurens haven’t gotten any messages, Peggy hasn’t seen her. Complete silence.”

Thomas grips the edge of his desk in panic. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you could be in any danger. A sickening guilt gnaws at his stomach. What if you had been kidnapped? Or had gotten into an accident?

“Look, Jefferson, we’re going over to her apartment to look around. Hercules hopes that we can find some clues as to where she’s gone.”

There’s a pause, muffled arguing in the background followed by a muttered, Dammit Laurens!

“Laurens says we need to invite you, if you want,” Hamilton grumbles. “I’ll text you her address.”

“All right.”

The line goes dead, leaving Thomas sitting in stunned silence. You could be in serious danger, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He feels so helpless. Forcing horrible images of you in danger from his mind, he slams the laptop shut, forgetting the paper in a heartbeat. You are his first priority.

Fifteen minutes later, Thomas arrives at your apartment. Lafayette answers his knock at your door, wordlessly letting him enter. Hamilton is sitting on your gray couch, scrolling through your laptop with laser focus. Laurens is looking through some unopened mail on a side table. Hercules Mulligan and Peggy emerge from the hallway.

“Toothpaste and face wash are gone,” Herc announces.

“Looks like she took an overnight bag or something,” Peggy adds. But there’s a lot of clothes on the floor, so it’s hard to tell what she took.”

“She tried on nearly everything in her closet getting ready for her date with Jefferson,” Laurens informs, looking up at Thomas as he enters the living room.

Hamilton glares at Thomas but returns to his work when Laurens nudges his arm. “I don’t see any email confirmations for major purchases, like plane or bus tickets. I think she’s still in the city.”

“Who else could she have gone to stay with?” Thomas asks. He doesn’t know you well enough to conjecture about this.

The group congregates on the assorted chairs and couches in your living room, silence falling as everyone thinks about your other contacts.

“I think she had lunch with Aaron Burr once,” Peggy murmurs thoughtfully.

“That doesn’t mean she’d go stay with him, though,” Laurens interjects.

“Have you heard back from Angelica?” Hamilton asks Peggy. He avoids Thomas’ eyes and his body is turned away from him. Thomas fights the urge to roll his eyes. How immature is this guy? Still involved in a petty fight while his friend is missing?

“She said she hadn’t heard from her.”

“Didn’t she hang out with George Eacker and Charles Lee at one point?” Lafayette asks.

“Freshman year,” Hamilton mumbles, clearly irritated at the mention of those two. “She told them that she was from Nebraska, and they told the whole school. She was so embarrassed.”

Hamilton glares at Thomas, as if to say Doesn’t that sound familiar? Thomas clenches his jaw, feeling new regret for the way he treated you.

“There’s no way she’d even talk to either of them,” Hamilton states definitively.

The group falls silent once again. No one has any answers to the one question everyone is thinking in their minds. Hercules suggests another sweep of your bedroom for any overlooked clues, Peggy and Lafayette following him down the hall. Hamilton stays with your laptop, reading through old emails and attempting to log into your bank account to check your credit card activity. Laurens stays between Thomas and Hamilton, acting as a buffer between the two explosive characters.

Thomas feels so useless. He sits in a floral patterned armchair near the window—unbeknownst to him it’s your favorite chair—and skims the books in your bookshelves. Many classics, Jane Austen, The Aeneid, Odysseus, Charles Dickens. A few mystery books, a handful of period romances. There’s a big section on history, especially World War II. A small book with a tattered, well-worn cover catches his eyes, and he pulls it off the shelf. Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. He flips casually through the pages, skimming highlights and annotations you’ve written in the margins. One page catches his attention.

“The one place where a man ought to get a square deal is in a courtroom, be he any color of the rainbow, but people have a way of carrying their resentments right into a jury box.”

This passage has been highlighted and underlined. An annotation in pink pen is in the margin.

Justice should be blind to any human-created prejudices, including color, nationality, sexuality. Lawyers should disregard these differences when representing clients and remind the jury to remain impartial, for the preservation of justice.

Thomas finds himself nodding in agreement with your note. It’s such a powerful, yet simple statement that he’s never really thought about before. Racial tension has always been an issue in this country, and the courtroom hasn’t been immune to it. Thomas remembers reading To Kill a Mockingbird in high school; he found himself being inspired to go into law because of Atticus’ passion for racial justice in the courtroom. He realizes that this book inspired you as well, another thing you two have in common.

The HamilSquad returns to the living room, gloomy expressions revealing their lack of success in your bedroom. Peggy grabs her coat and shoes.

“Guys, I think we should split up and check any places we think she might be,” she says, jangling her car keys in her hand. “Hercules and I are going to check out Angelica’s and our apartments.”

“Lafayette and I can call Burr and see if she’s at Alex and I’s apartment,” Laurens volunteers.

This left Alex and Thomas.

“Someone should stay here in case she comes back,” Alex says.

“I can.” Everyone looks at Thomas warily, but he ignores it. “Madison will call me if she shows at my apartment. I want to be here.”

Hamilton’s eyes narrow, but Laurens’ gentle hand on his shoulder stops him from arguing with Thomas. “Fine. I’m gonna go contact a friend, see if he can help me with her laptop. But I’ll be back to keep an eye on you.”

Thomas nods in surrender. The two men who need to apologize to you the most will be waiting if you return to your apartment. While the others put on their coats and jackets and tersely say goodbye, he wanders into your kitchen for some food. Not eating for twelve hours has really taken a toll on his stamina.

You have a lot of frozen premade cookie dough in your freezer, so he pulls out a roll. The fridge has sandwich fixings and a pitcher of strawberry lemonade, which he also takes out. While the cookies bake, he makes a turkey, tomato, and lettuce sandwich, hungrily consuming the nourishment.

After he rescues the cookies from almost burning, he checks his watch: 2:17am. No wonder he’s so tired. He grabs a cookie from the tray and wanders into the living room. He’ll sleep on the couch; hopefully Hamilton will be quiet when he comes back. But when he lays down, he realizes that he’s too long for the couch. Either his feet and half of his lower legs or his head and shoulders are lying off the edge.

Exhausted and frustrated, he gets a sudden idea. He stumbles into your room, taking a moment to appreciate the decorations—it’s very you—before tiredly tugging off his shirt. He tosses the shirt onto the floor and tumbles face-first into your bed. The pillow smells like you, he sleepily realizes as he pulls the blankets over his body. Within a minute, he is asleep, his mind filling with dreams of you.