#didnt look too much further but y'know

[the-acid-pear]

Tbh it's so interesting to me how Ash and Pablo manage to have such a completely platonic relationships even in fanon like... It's not like it's wrong by any particular reason but to ship them is just something that isn't Right and that seems to be a silent agreement between everyone in the fandom 💀

[meowsgirldrawing]

Pact Marks- Obey Me Thoughts/Headcannons

So in one of my recent posts, I showed where I imagine My MC- or Mackenzie's pacts marks are.

For those who are new or just unfamiliar with this topic somehow, Pact marks are what the fandom of Obey Me! Shall We Date?! has basically agreed all on being on each MC when they/he/she makes a pact with one of the demons. I dunno if the creators confirmed that as I am only in lesson 13-14 in the game itself.

Here are my headcannons/thoughts to just have on here✨

Lucifer

(Spoiler, hes the last one to get a pact mark from but not in the least undermining)

Where I imagine his pact mark would be on MC's chest.

Kinda like the phrase, 'Huffing up chest in pride', it shows his shamless pride in allowing the human to make a pact with him.

Considering how possessive Lucifer tends to be towards MC, in a "This is my human" way, his mark is the biggest, maybe even boldest as its even able to peak over MC's collar bones, making any non-turtle neck like shirt unable to cover it all.

It glows his signiture blue when activated, bright and unable to be unnoticed either.

And in the dark, a lingering lighter shade trails around the stars, giving a nice ring to the MorningStar name

With my MC, I imagine they aren't afraid to show it, most of their outfits being tank tops, low collar shirts, or even just a sports bra on some nights.

Lucifer sometimes catches MC trailing their finger along its edges, only to shirk their hand down as soon as he notices.

Of course...he smirks, raising a curious brow.

MC just ignores his glances and moves on.

Mammon

He was a an easy one, Ngl.

Look, I adore This little Greed demon with all my heart but he does tend to steal, and gamble, and basically do any money grubbing.

All with swift and talentful hands in his own craft.

His pact mark is on the hand, preferably dominant hand of MC.

Its not too big or too small, just fitting across the back of MC's hand.

When activated, it gives of a nice yellow hue, gold lining the mark's edges in a shifting manner.

My MC tried drawing weird symbols on top of it, human symbols that kids draw on their skin everyday y'know, just to see if anything changed.

It didn't. Just erased whatever they did and glowed like normal.

Mammon called her weird then proceeded to try his turn at it.

Now they needed new pens.

Mammon hated the mark at first, finding it stupid given how it even came to be in the first place.

Now he traces it every night with a curled up MC beside him, clutching onto him as if he isnt holding them tight enough.

Leviathan

He is tricky tricky boy, lemme tell ya.

Either his pact mark worked in spots his brothers' worked better in or it just didnt seem like Levi's spot.

So I figured, under bicep.

The guy is shy, right? So I believe his would ultimately end up somewhere where it's covered the majority of the time, that or just hard to see at most angles.

I did think of thigh, but i suppose the thought it ending up there would have this okaku blushing for days on end.

Which bicep also depends on which arm is MC's dominant one.

My MC, like all her other marks, is proud to have them, so they dont get why it was somewhere mostly hidden.

Hence why it gives them further reason to show it off during their shared movie nights, wearing more sleeveless shirts or tops.

Leviathan is her Lord of Shadows just as much as they are his Henry and they are proud to say it. (Enough without embarrassing the Envy demon of course)

Leviathan turned as flustered as a peach at first anytime he saw it fully, but now...

Now he laughs as MC 'proves' their muscles to him after an off comment he made, flexing off that mark of Envy without even realizing. He just snorts and shoves them lightly, a domino effect taking hold as they do it right back.

Beelzebub

Did I even need to think on this guy?

The tongue is wear his mark resides.

Not only for the obvious, Ahem Gluttony, but because the tongue is known to be the strongest muscle in the body.

It tends to blend in with the color of their tongue but mostly when its activated.

Oo, imagine MC eating a cherry flavored treat, the glow would just light the whole thing up. Light bulp idea if MC is ever in the dark and lost.

Ahem, anyway, as mentioned, it glows a fiery red, making MC's mouth looking like light up city when even just a little bit opened.

My MC had at one point thought her mouth was bleeding when she saw in it the mirror, had to have Beel explain they were indeed fine, if anything, looked cool.

Both her and Beel test out how bright it can get depeding on cherry flavored treats when gorging in food one night.

Beel cant help but blush at the sight of his unactivated mark as MC sucks their tongue out at him, having just won a victorious round. A game Levi lended them for a bit.

He hms, pats their head lightly, and mutters 'cute'. MC is left confused, their tongue still poking out in a blep.

Asmodeus

So...HAHA- So many people thought my MC's mark from Asmo was on their bottom.

While I would not be surprised, given this man, I headcannon their mark being a tramp stamp.

Right above their bottom.

Its not big, barely taking all over their lower back. But enough to give off a big enough glow when activated.

When activated, the pact will glow a saturated pink, a tease of purple easing into the 'ink.'

Ngl, I got this idea after reading another headcannon list of Obey Me Pact Marks and thought it was too good to not keep.

Its somewhat easy to hide, depending on the type of clothing MC wears, but it quickly becomes hard to cover ehen activated, the pink being too bright.

Asmo calls them his little firefly at some point

As for my MC, she gets flustered, never thinking a pact mark would be that low. But after catching a wink from Asmo, they turn gears and smirk instead, thankful for their wild and long hair hiding the pink in their ears as they clap back quick with some remark.

Asmo just chuckles at whatever she said.

Teasing hands, always playful but never pushing, linger down at the edge of MC's shirt only for it to turn into a tickle over his mark. MC squeaks out, laughter pulling over as they skirt away, clutching their lower back.

Asmo takes their playing shoves with a smug grin, gleaming with absolute delight as he catches one at last, landing a sweet kiss at their knuckles.

Satan

Similar to Lucifer

Satan would hate me I know it

But yes, dreadfully similar to Lucifer, Satan's mark is big and bold, appearing right under where Lucifer's(At the time he never knew that of course).

It lays across the lower ribs, that tip of it? Its lined up to go straight in between both, mark and center.

It is easy to hide, but if MC is one to wear short crop tops, or anyhting that shows close to the lower ribs as mentioned, it wouldnt be hard to miss.

Yet, the mark is impossible to miss when activated, unless you stacked like piles and piles on MC's torso, yeah..that green glow would be seen a mile away.

Its a bright, fiery green, almost oozing into their clothes like Wrath itself would.

Why is it on the ribs? Well, you know that feeling you get when you are angry. That fire in the pit of your chest? The only reason its on the ribs instead is because of how calculating Satan is.

"Imagine how an aggressor would feel if they suddenly saw its glow? They would've turned to rigor themselves without my help"

Are you sure you aint like Lucifer-

My MC played a game of, 'What Can Hide The Mark??' With their closet one day, just curiosity at best.

Yeah, they thought better of it when Satan came a-knocking very confused and very weirded out by the dark light green light game on his side.

Theres a weird, fizzy feeling Satan gets anytime he saw the mark in a more direct manner. Their shirt riding up as they slanted on the couch, at the beach, anywhere were he got less of a tease of it and more of a frontal view.

It wasnt made out of hate for his brother, it wasnt even a half-assed one either, it actually meant something, to both him and MC.

Hmm....Satan's eyes fliker back down, escaping MC's sudden gaze, a little heat on his cheeks going ignored in favor for catching up with this novel's protagonist.

Belphegor

So......I may or may not have accidentally put Belphie's mark on Mc's neck.....

Chapter 16 anyone?

BUT- BUT Then it gave me an idea!

So while we arent exactly sure the marks would be chosen by the brother's preference, or MC's preference, I think its just up to what the fans think-

What if it was kinda an accident itself?

Like obviously, at the time of the pact between the youngest brother and Mc was made, the events of Mc/not Mc's death was still fresh to everyone. Hence the whole, making a pact to protect Mc from Belphie.

And since it was still in everyones minds for a while, the mark accidentally formed in the one place everyone, including MC had a hard time looking at without getting chills.

It could be many possibilities from this, but it also can give MC enough motivation to work it out with Belphie, wanting to make the mark not one to look at in digust but instead at least a gentle fondness like the others. Obviously the last part might take a long while to come, but they would at least be able to ease the pain of it.

Anyhow- the mark is pretty dang small compared to the others. Small and barely noticable depending on how MC's hair style is.

When activated, it glows a nice lilac hue, the edges dipped in a very light, almost white color. It can almost be mistaken for a night light, like those ones for children, if it wasn't on MC's body.

If covered with a turtle neck for instance, its dimmed but not completely, still vying for attention.

I do believe MC would have at least some sort of trauma towards it, like cant have people touching around their neck for awhile. Even if Lucifer were to cup their chin, their nerves start a-ringing.

I like to imagine my MC doesn't necessarily get over it, but is able to move past it. Shes one to not let things affect them, but obviously with seeing yourself and feeling youself die is extremely hard to do for a human, so its more or less them just wanting to stop feeling so weak at the idea. So she asks Lucifer or Satan (the two most likely to understand it) in private to help her by gently edging their hands around her neck area sometimes so she can at the very least, emotionally move past it.

Exposure therapy( But this is for my MC, I definitely believe people have a right to decide how they/their characters wpuod respond to the whole thing as everyone seems to either forgive Belphie, take a long time to do so, or just want their character to avoid him)

It takes him a loose second to realize, but when he does, Belphie is quick to snatch away his hand from MC's upper torso. Hes hesitant to even toss it back around their waist. But MC, despite their sleepy and craving for warmth state, takes note of his sudden distance and tightens their grip around his shoulders, effectively dragging him snug against their body.

They murmer reassurances before he can even breathe a single word, and hes burrying his face in their shoulder, the one beside his own mark. Tears sting his closed gaze and their wading soft fingers their his hair. A kiss to the side of his head is all he needs and he wrapps his arms back around, agreeing like aways.

Gentle forgiven but never forgotten...

[clock-onyx]

Allies

"Would chaaaa' look at that! I reckon we haven't seen these two before, have we?"

"Nnnoope, don't think so, Dee."

"..No wait.. Is that Chester?! Woough- wow!"

"..Ches- who?"

"Chester..? Y'know, THE Chester. That guy I told you about, Clanks! The new guy that was in the same station as me a while back! Didnt you see him before?"

"Oooouuhh... THAT Chester, alright alright yeah I remember.. But whos that with him?"

"Dunno... hmm, too tall for a robot."

"Too short for a Vexeneer-"

"-Too fluffy for a Strevian!"

"-Maybe they're just lost?"

"IIII doubt it! Maybe we could meet the pair down to get an answer? Don't think that we'd get in trouble for thaaatt!"

"Oouhhh hah, we won't, we're on break, remember, Tinhead?"

"Pfft, I never forget!-"

"Heh, well, if you say so."

OK! I finally finished this GOD TOOK ME AGES!!! (An actual entire 25 hours) almost started tweaking at it but its ok its done finally

Compared to all my other drawings with TDDUP, this one is A LOT farther into the story,,, I have zero pace thats why I said ill make a list in cronological order for this when its done 😭

These are two new characters! Not super important but I liked the duo so much that I just needed to draw them here,,, This is Clanker (green text; He/They) and Dexter (blue text; They/it), or also called NO. 224-52-5 and NO. 1101-55-5, two allies of Chester and Odin

They are conductors in a special Lourielle vehicle that resembled a train. Specifically made to look and sound like a monster to scare anything off the tracks as its extremly fast and hiting anything can be a death penalty (it also works as a protective helmet). Its A LOT bigger than how it looks in the drawing i just messed up the proportions bleghhh

Art of Clanker (1st drawing) and Dexter (2nd drawing, oldest version of them)

Additional info is that Lourielle soldiers are seperated into closed eyes (pure robots) and open eyed (people that transferred into a robotic body), just for people curious on the eyes on their hats/clothes!

Ok thas it im open for any further questions

[kirishwima]

Bet on me, baby - Part 3 (written portions below!)

****

He's late.

Not one to waste time, you stood outside the shop at 4pm sharp, arms folded across your torso for warmth, glaring at the sun as if it'd personally offended you by hiding beneath opalescent clouds despite the summer month.

You were fine to wait for five or ten minutes, keeping yourself busy listening to music through your overhead headphones and scrolling through your phone, but as the minutes trickled past and your foot tapped nervously against concrete, you frowned, sent another text-it's not rude to wait indoors, not when the guy you're waiting for is a whooping 15 minutes late, now is it?

You make your order and find a cozy corner to sit at, already bringing out your notes and laptop-the sooner you get this done, the better after all, and you suppose there's no harm in getting a headstart until your project partner arrives.

Yet time flows onwards, with no sight of Mammon to behold.

The ice in your drink has already melted by the time you decide to send him another message, now truly furious as you glanced to the clock on the wall across of you.

You look over your final messages with a sigh as you pack up your belongings, standing up from your seat to head out of the shop.

You're all but ready to storm out when the sound of hurried steps marching your way distracts you, a flurry of white all you see as the chair across you gets dragged back on the wooden floors.

Mammon stumbles into the seat, tilting his head back.

"Ha. Made it" he sighs, turns towards you and has the audacity to smirk, a lazy toothy grin as he slumps further into the seat.

He nods towards you in greeting, blinks owlishly behind his sunglasses. An angry red mark covers his left cheek, one he seems more than oblivious to.

You raise an eyebrow at that, momentarily ignoring the fact that he didn't even apologize for being an hour late as he leans back on his seat, balancing the chair on its back two legs.

You stare at him.

You blink.

And scream.

"What the FUCK Mammon?!" you ask.

He flinches, straightens back his chair as it momentarily threatens to fall.

"Huh? What?!"

"What? What do you mean what?! Where were you?"

He rolls his eyes, shrugs his shoulders with a shake of his head.

"I overslept! Some of us have actual social lives y'know-I was out all night and honestly jus' wanted to sleep all day today" he fumes. "Like, who the hell would wanna spend their saturday doing homework with a nerd?"

Your fingers are about to wrap around your plastic coffee cup and fling it to his head, before Mammon carries on with a sigh.

"At least I was going to, but Satan slapped me and threatened to cut all my credit cards in half if i didnt show up and hes a crazy bastard yknow, if he says it then he fucking means it-" he stifles a yawn, "and im hungover as shit. Why does no one care for me in this family?! I need sleep!"

You clench your teeth.

At least he's here you try to rationalize, at least Satan is a decent person that slapped some sense into him because you'd have no qualms to doing so yourself, peace and love be damned, but instead you sigh, turn to him and say;

"Be late again and I'll let your brothers, Lucifer included, know you were an ass to me."

He dared to laugh at that, shakes his hand as if to dismiss you, "And why would they care what the class nerd says?"

Enough is enough.

You slam your hands on the table, commanding the gaze of everyone in the shop to your form, Mammon flinching back, eyes wide and staring towards you.

"Y/N"

"Huh?"

"My name is Y/N. Not nerd. If you had paid even the slightest attention when I was talking to you, maybe you'd get it through that thick skull of yours. My name is Y/N L/N, im a human fucking person who was stood up for AN HOUR on their single day off, because guess what asshole-I have plans too! My day does not revolve around you and your fucking schedule. You have wasted an hour of my precious time, with not so much as an apology for being late, and you come in here and talk to me like I'm an inconvenience to you?!"

You get up, sling your backpack over your shoulder as Mammon sits frozen in place, eyes never leaving your fuming face.

"Well guess FUCKING what. I don't like you either! I could be hanging out with my friends too, or taking up another shift at my part time work and earning actual money, instead of wasting my time and effort here, waiting for you to get your shit together enough to actually get here and start working on this project so we can pass this class!"

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving Mammon one final cold look.

"Thanks for wasting my time. Go find another project partner, and maybe you two can fail together" is all you say before turning around, walking out the coffee shop without looking back.

Your steps are brisk, pace fast as you make haste, your sole goal to get as far away from this shitty day and back to the comfort of your apartment.

You're about to send a text to Satan, to apologize for going off in his brother after he had the decency to send him to you, when you hear Mammon shuffling behind you, yelling our a 'wait, hold on you ner-uh. Y/N!!'

You do stop at that, turning around with a frown at the sound of your name, arms crossed over your chest.

"What?" you ask.

He's panting, his face washed red, back hunched and hands on his thighs as he looks back up at you-

"I. Uh. Ugh, don't make me say it!"

You sigh.

"Say what, Mammon?"

He grumbles, fidgets with a hand to his hair.

"I'm sorry! Okay!"

'Sorry for what?' you ask, not willing to let this slide. A half hearted apology isn't gonna cut it.

"For...wasting your time. And coming here hungover. And insulting you."

You look him up and down. He's not so bad like this; with this sheepish look on his face, a hand thrown awkwardly to the back of his neck, looking anywere else but your face-even through his yellow tinted sunglasses you can see the deeper shade across his cheeks, a bead of sweat trickling down his right temple, presumably from the effort he made trying to catch up to you.

'Fine' is all you say.

He looks back at you, a small grin of his lips that seems to taste like victory.

"So can we go finish this work now or?"

"No. Not today"

His crestfallen look is almost cute, you muse, but shake your head free of the thought before it takes root in your mind.

"Believe it or not Mammon, I wasn't lying when I said I was a busy person. I don't have anymore time for today, since you so politely wasted it."

"Hey!" he groans, straightening back up, "I said I was sorry!"

"I know. Which is why I'm willing to plan another meetup like this with you. You can come by my workplace tomorrow at the end of my shift and we can plan a rough outline of our topic, or you can text me where you'll be and I can come meet you."

"Where do you work?"

"The local bookstore, down the street from the main campus. You know the one, big but raggedy looking? Has a wooden sign outside called Brimstone?"

He nods, looks to his phone as he replies.

"Yeah I know the one. Satan won't shut up about it."

You exchange further details for a moment, eventually deciding on him coming to pick you up from your work in the afternoon when your shift ends; you guys can go grab a coffee and something to eat at the adjacent coffee shop, and finally get some work done there.

Mammon nods along as you recount tomorrow's plan, his previous attitude watered down and like this-leaning close to you in the busy street, huddled together as you show him the location of your workplace on google maps, his focused little pout, his blue eyes big and juxtaposing thick white lashes-hell, he's almost attractive like this.

Almost.

You bite back the intrusive thought and bid him goodbye, heading straight back to your shitty apartment-you're supposed to finish up your essay today and start on yet another pending report.

Instead you can't get these flashes of white and gold out of your head all day.

*****

-Masterlist-

[squarebracketsmileyface]

vaguely points towards the direction of fourth of july by fall out boy. i was talking to my friends ab it being a brian&tim song but honestly? its soo "sorry its licked" jaylex sometimes. "you are my favourite what if, you are my best ill never know." / "oh im sorry, i didnt mean any of it, i just got too lonely, in between being young and being right you were my versailles at night" / "i said id never miss you but i guess you never know" its them.

- lynxb3 (hii!)

Hi Lynxb3 :D (Lynx?) no no, you were right, I'm changing the name to "Sorry, It's Licked" forthwith and rewriting the entire story so that Jay licked Alex's keys so that they belonged to him, as per the ancient laws of the universe

Also you're SO right with that song, there are so many lyrics that work so well for Jay and Alex, and honestly just the comparison to fireworks all the way through the song works for them as well. because like, when done properly fireworks can be fun and beautiful, but if you fuck up even a little bit when you're setting them up they can shoot off in the wrong direction or too early or too late and really badly hurt people. Like, yes, they can be beautiful, but you can also get severe burns from them and stuff like that. Which, yeah that's Jaylex in S,IL alright lol.

Anyway, looking at specific lyrics under the thingy bob cos it got long:

"I said I'd never miss you, but I guess you never know, May the bridges I have burned, Light my way back home on the fourth of July" is one of the lyrics that really feels like Jay and Alex to me, like, specifically the idea that after everything got SUPER fucked up in uni and they finally parted ways, neither of them realised just how much they'd miss each other? Like, i think especially Alex wouldn't have realised it, because he's gonna break it off fairly impulsively (it's still a good decision, but it's a fairly split second one all the same) right after Jay really badly hurts him, so obviously he wouldn't think he'd miss Jay, because the last time he saw him was a time when Jay did something that really fucked him up, y'know?

and then like, the bridge between them is burned, duh, but they still find their ways back to each other years later during the events of MH. And that bridge is still burned, but instead of being a blazing inferno it's just glowing coals. Which obviously isn't gonna be fun to walk across, you'll burn your feet and there's the constant threat that a board will give way and send you plummeting into the water rushing below. And, yeah, that does happen, they both get burned then Alex purposefully shoves Jay off the bridge and sets it back on fire because that's the only thing he can think to do to stop Jay following him back across it, which would get Jay killed.

"You are my favorite what if, You are my best I'll never know" Jay and Alex both definitely had at least a phase of thinking about what they could have been if the other person hadn't fucked it up. or, well Jay would have thought about what they could have been if Alex hadn't fucked it up. Alex would have thought about what they could have been if both of them hadn't fucked it up.

Alex isn't unaware that his own actions and behaviors had a hand in their relationship failing/not going further than FWB's, but he doesn't think he's solely to blame. I think for a long time he did just purely blame himself, mostly because Jay verbally/outwardly blamed him too, like, just straight to his face made him feel like it was his fault. But (especially after he got together with Amy) he'd eventually come to realise Jay was at fault too, that they both fucked it up and chances were that they could never have worked out while they were both still 'themselves'. They'd have to have been so different than they were for their uni relationship to have worked out/been healthy.

"And I'm starting to forget, Just what summer ever meant to you, What did it ever mean to you?" Honestly, I can't decide which of them would have been more upset to find themselves forgetting things about the other, like, after a year or two of just not talking to each other or seeing each other at all after Uni.

Maybe Jay would be the most upset if he did forget anything, but I don't think he would forget that much? If that makes sense? Like, I think that relationship in uni had such an impact on him that he wouldn't forget nearly anything about it, and i think that he'd honestly hate that because he'd be so angry at Alex for how it ended (i have evil plans to give them a terrible 'break up' lmao, they do about it so fucking badly) like, I think Jay remembered Alex's birthday more easily than he remembers anyone elses, even the people he actually cared about actively, I think he would still remember Alex's favourite meal and his favourite songs, I think he'd remember the bands Alex told him he used to listen to before he met Jay, all the random ass shit. and he would hate it.

he'd hate that he remembers more about Alex than he does about his current partner or his current friends or anyone else. (no I'm not projecting. No i don't hate that I struggle to remember my best friends' birthdays but I remember a certain not-technically-my-ex's birthday without even having to think about it, because I got hyperfixated on him and my brain decided to keep weird random facts about him, what are you talking about?)

On the other hand, I think Alex would forget a lot about Jay, whether that's because of Operator mind fuckery or just as a natural thing he would have forgotten no matter what, and I think he'd hate it. I think he'd hate realising he forgot something about Jay, especially as he slowly came to terms with his sexuality and realised that he had in fact really liked Jay and just hadn't known how to deal with it, so had just shoved it down and vehemently ignored it. I think he'd hate it if he realised he could no longer remember Jay's favourite colour, his favourite season, his favourite whatever.

I think it'd make him worry about what else he didn't remember about Jay, it'd make him worry that he was forgetting good things about Jay and making it so that his mind could only paint Jay in a bad light when actually there were things he'd forgotten that would place him in a getter one.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean any of it, I just got too lonely, lonely, whoa" God, Jay and Alex say so many nasty things to each other that they don't mean in S,IL (like, over the whole series not just in the main starting fic) Like, in chapter 2 of S,IL with Alex saying anything and everything horrible that he could think of to scare Jay away and make him hate him so he stopped trying to find out what happened to Alex in uni to make him the way he is now with all the Operator stuff. and then also in chapter 3 of "If It Ain't Broken" Jay remembers a fight he and Alex had, and remembers some of the really nasty shit he said to Alex during that (and probably forgets a whole bunch of it too, because he struggles to remember stuff that happens when he's like REALLY angry, everything just kinda greys out and he doesn't remember anything much about what happened)

god they're both so horrible to each other sometimes 💀

I am a cruel god forcing their hands.

They could have been happy but I'm just here like "dance for me my pets, dance for me and perhaps I'll reward you with some sliver of fluff for you to wrap your wounds with."

And then I give their promised fluff to someone else 💀

"Don't tell me you cried, Oh, honey, you don't have to lie" (i thought this line was 'don't tell me you're fine, oh honey you don't have to lie' literally until just now when I finally looked up the lyrics for this post, so well done me) Honestly though, I think if Alex told Jay he'd been upset about ending their FWB relationship in uni Jay wouldn't have believed him. Like, if Alex had told Jay he'd cried over it, that he'd had to ask Amy to reassure him that it was the right decision and it didn't make him a bad person for ending it, Jay would think he was bullshitting him. He'd think Alex was just saying it to stop him from hating him for it, or to make him feel sorry for him.

"I wish I'd known how much you loved me, I wish I cared enough to know" Alex alex alex alex alex

alex

Specifically alex after uni realising he liked Jay back and wishing he knew how much Jay actually liked him. Like, he knew Jay liked him, obviously, but he didn't know the extent to which he did, he always shut the conversation down the second it strayed too close to real talk about real feelings, and now he's regretting that. he wished he knew, he wishes he'd cared enough to ask about it. He wished he'd consciously cared enough about Jay to get over his fear of being in love with another guy, but that wasn't how it turned out and now he's left thinking back on what they had and picking through every little thing he remembered Jay doing and saying, trying to find something to tell him exactly how much Jay liked him.

did Jay just like him casually? did Jay love him? did jay like to think they could have ended up being partners for life if Alex had just gotten over himself? or was the furthest he saw them theoretically getting just a short-ish relationship once they got out of uni, before they eventually parted ways, or maybe remained friends after that?

Alex would feel bad about not having cared enough about Jay to get over caring about himself and his fear of himself and how people percieved him. Even though he'd know that his fear of people thinking/finding out that he was queer in some way was a very valid fear to have. Y'know?

"I'm sorry every song's about you, The torture of small talk with someone you used to love" honestly this one is just the awkwardness of Alex seeing Jay again for the first time since he gave him the tapes after Uni. Like, Alex has done all sorts of introspection and come to terms with his identity and has realised he did like Jay back back in uni and just hadn't known how to deal with that. And now he's lost Amy, and he's face to face with someone he's realised he actually used to really like, and oh god maybe he still likes him, and he just doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know how to talk to him, he doesn't know how to make it so this isn't awkward.

[willieswa]

Another note

For example: I was just out grabbing something and that same old man caught my eye and waved me across the street behind a park building where it was well-hidden from view. Of course, I knew what was going on and dropped to my knees as i came around the corner. Lucky too, because it allowed me to dodge a smack to the side of the head (he swung pretty hard, his deep, gravelly voice barking in a quiet half-whisper, though still authoritative, "knees faggot. and dont make a sound." He didn't need to even ask. He surprised me with how aggressive he was in facefucking me this time -- must have been horny. I had trouble deepthroating his redbull-can-thick cock; he took a good 20 minutes to cum, or thats my guess since he hauled 4 smokes in a row while I serviced him. (the longer he takes, the more frustrated... thus he hits me in the head harder and more often. Sucks). He likes to hold my head down all the way to the base when he cums (he was loud even though there was an adult mens soccer practice on the other side of the wall LOL. I know they musta been confused cause I know they heard him groan "SHIT" as loud as he did. Today he grabbed my jaw before i could pull his cock outta my throat and, unannounced completely, unleashed a massive stream of what I can only describe as "homeless man piss" judging by the foul taste and smell (though I didnt dare even sputter and swallowed every drop while he laughed hard, mocking me for doing it, and reminding me that im, in his words, "a goof cocksucker". And, spitting on my face as he put his dick away, he kicked me hard in the stomach and left, lighting another smoke as he turned around (Im shocked by the amount he smokes; fuck, he has a used-to-be-white full beard, messy and rough-looking, but also it is heavily yellow/nicotine stained, especially on the left where he dangles his smokes non-stop. I dont think I've ever seen him not dangling a smoke, honestly. I always make sure to stay knelt until the man leaves, as well as my standard, as I am directed to: "Thank you, SIR". I hate calling them SIR, feels like some gay shit, and I like to think I want to hold onto my straightness as much as I can despite the circumstances.... I keep reminding myself that despite what is going on, and how many times I gotta suck cock to keep myself in good standing, Im not gay by any means. When Ive handed over enough money to shore up this debt (it's a large number...) I can hopefully skip town where no one knows me as "the cocksucker".

Oh, and I know I'm sounding like I'm sexualizing my position.... I'm not if I can help it. If it helps to sell the idea further: he/his guests are told to make sure I dont "enjoy it too much"; as in, if I, rarely, get hard or chubbed even while Im servicing someone (which happens occasionally if theyre kind enough to let me smash bitch before I service them. I'm not gay. I say that again, with emphasis. Dont know if you can call it being broken in, y'know like a horse .... but I have started to associate servicing cock with being allowed to get high. It has me in a mindset where I am back and forth in a group of guys visiting begging them each in turn "may i please service your cock for a bit of dope SIR? Please?"

[swelling-feeling]

"Princess' Orders"

Inflation Story - Rayman AU - Starring Axmay (aka Maxim), and Princess Spinella (aka Spinel)

▽△ Story under the Cut △▽

The teensy, Axmay, and the warrior-princess Spinella, do enjoy sparring against eachother, almost as much as they enjoy cuddling eachother… Though, often times, one does lead to another. Axmay has crafted a spell that functions the same as bubblizing opponents or allies, without altering their form: merely trapping them in a magical bubble of the same purpose and effect. And yet… That spell, he did not cast fully on the warrior-princess. She swung her scythe at him, giggling, as the teensy deflected it with a blast of force, running a bit further away as he began charging up a powerfull attack. Spinella smiled, going in for the hit, the teensy only managing to dodge at the last second, the scythe clanging against the ground, as he moved away further, begining to hit her with a few spells of force.

"You almost had me, Princess!"

he spoke, hitting spell after spell against her, which she kept beautifully, flawlessly dodging. It always impressed him, how elastic she seemed to be. He began trying to cast a big spell anew, hoping to get to defeat her at least once in combat. The princess charged him, admittedly spooking the warlock and making him cast the spell too soon, completely missing her entirely, as he ducked at her next attack.

"Ya almost had me there, y'know? Good job!"

She smiled, twirling her scythe in a mesmerising way… Which totally distracted axmay,

"H-hard to hit you when you're so fast, y-your highness."

He spoke with a small stutter, before making a noice of surpise, when seeing the scythe go straight for him, moving out of the way at the last second.

"Y'need to pay more attention, Axmie, lest ya get hit where ya dont expect it!"

She spoke, the warlock nodding at her sage advice, as he tried to charge another spell, this time managing to do it quickly.

"Yes!"

He chuckled, looking in front of him for his beautiful target… Only to find completely nothing. He was confused, where has spinella dissapeared off to? As soon soon as he was about to ask, he heard a soft, melodic giggle behind him… He knew that at that moment, he lost. He let out a yelp, as he was hit with the blunt side of the scythe, as if he was a cricket ball, making him fly - and quickly be encased in a bubble of his own design.

"Haha! Looks like i win again, Axmay!"

She laughed, not even really tired, in contrast to the teensy's tiring state. He nodded, as he moved in his bubble, standing up,

"Of course, why would anyone else be the victor against your splendour?"

He spoke in a genuine tone, softly asking to pop the bubble, to which she obliged him, making him fall into spinella's arms, as she smiled at him, kissing his nose, and making him blush, before she set him down.

"…Princess, may we go again?"

He asked, shaking his head to gain focus, before looking at her, to which she hummed.

"Y'sure on this? What round would it even be then? I lost count."

She hummed, tapping her chin in thought,

"Y-yes, Princess. If i am to train my aim, and to move-and-shoot in a fight, you're the perfect sparring partner… that, and perfect in all things."

He explained, muttering the last part to himself, lightly hoping she didnt hear him. She hummed as she looked at him, before smiling, patting his head,

"…Sure. But try not to get distracted, kay?"

She spoke, moving to her spot, and lightly swaying her hips as she did so. Axmay already failed that test, before he shook his head to focus, going into stance when she did. He shot an attack her way, and thus the fight began, as she moved around the arena, dodging the attacks that came her way, and simply running onwards the attacks that did not. He simply kept sending flurry after flurry of attacks, as he moved in the opposite direction. As the battle went on, she squinted her eyes slightly… The teensy did seem a bit… Distant, lacking focus, though he clearly tried to muster it. She hummed softly, not sure if she was right, so she continued with the duel. Axmay was trying to hold on, sending more spells her way, and not daring to stagger - he was tired, but he sure as hell wasnt going to stop. He needed to be good in combat, since he cant just spell it on himself, and so he kept sending more and more spells at the princess, which she dodged more and more, spectacularely. The duel continued on as one would expect, axmay shoots spells, spinella dodges perfectly, she attacks him with her scythe, he manages to dodge at the last second… One time, she nearly does hit him, only managing to honk his nose, to which she had to stifle a giggle. The climax of the fight was upon them once again, and at this point, spinella was sure she was right - her little axmie was pushing himself for the sake of being better. She sighed, thinking on the alternatives; if she sent him back to his chambers, he would not sleep due to studying magic, and if she sent him to go to the gallery to rest, he might go into the paintings and possibly get lost while exploring… And so, she knew there was only one thing left to try. She dodged the big spell that axmay cast her way, as she began to rush towards him, seeking to get the duel over with, for his sake. Axmay kept sending spell after spell at the princess, trying to catch his breath, as he tried to use one last spell - his eyes lightly widening, seeing the princess before him, with a specific look in her eyes, which admittedly made him spooked, and made him drop the spell. She just bonked him with the blunt side of the scythe again, a bubble encasing the teensy again, as he flew upwards again, holding his head, before tbe bubble was popped by her, and he landed in her arms again.

"Axmie."

She spoke in a soft, yet firm tone,

"You've been pushing yourself again, haven't you?"

The warlock was caught red handed, and so he lightly looked away, lightly ashamed, as she sighed, shaking her head.

"Y'cant keep pushin' yaself like this. Y'know this."

She spoke,

"…I know, b-but…"

He started, before being shushed by her with a kiss to his noggin. She looked at him, already knowing that this was going to be the only way to get him to rest… And she had no problem with it, really. She set the teensy down, moving a bit away, before turning to him.

"…Lock the doors." "…H-huh?" "Lock, the doors, Axmay."

She spoke again, making axmay feel a bit intimidated and spooked of what was to come… But he did as his princess commanded. With a flick of his wrist, all the doors leading to the dueling room were locked.

"…Now."

She hummed, making sure the teensy was looking at her,

"…Hit me." "Wh-… what?" "Hit me, come on."

She spoke with a smirk, moving her arms in a jokingly taunting gesture.

"I… I cant! I could never…!" "Come ooooon, im not some fragile flower, Axmie. Hit me!" "B-but one shouldnt…" "I can take it! C'mon, Hit Me!" "…A-a-as a gentleman, i…"

He was silenced, when he saw the soft glow in her eyes.

"C'mon, Axmie. We both know i wont be hurt, anyway."

The teensy was confused for a moment, but the peer pressure was getting to him. He charged a spell.

"Ah, going that way, are we?"

She teased with a smile, making the teensy lightly blush. As soon as he was about to release that spell, she stopped him.

"Hold it. Hit me with all you've got. I can take it."

Axmay was confused again… Was she trying to pity him by letting him defeat her? That couldnt be it, she was still very flustering… So what was it? The more he charged the spell, the more his arms raised, an orb of energy appearing above him as he kept charging, gathering his focus for the spell. Spinella was admittingly impressed that he could charge a spell that big… And imaganing how much damage tbat could cause, she knew what'd happen to her… A little sly smirk appeared on her face in anticipation… She was ready for this, and for once, she might actually enjoy it. The spell kept gathering in power, and axmay began having trouble holding it, as he hummed… He wasnt aware of it, but he was lightly pushing himself, even with this… But he couldnt hold a spell that big for long. Spinel hummed, as she looked at him. She softly sighed, bracing herself for the coming attack…

"…Heeere it comes… Hit me, Axmie."

And so he did, extremely hesitantly, but he did. The instant the spell left his fingers, be felt guilt, even though she did ask for it… He never wanted to harm her himself. The princess let out a noise, as the spell hit her, and made her bounce off the edge of the arena, as she stumbled into the middle of it.

"…P-princess? A-are you okay? I d-didnt overdo it, did i…?"

He asked, worried, before stopping. A soft hiss filled the room, and they both instantly knew it's source.

"…I… feel… Light."

She softly spoke, as the hiss continued, and her belly began to grow. Axmay was in complete disbelief… The spell Axmay crafted, the safety bubble, he cast on most… But he didnt fully cast it on his Princess, over being fascinated by her in her bubblized state, and so he made it that she could only be bubblized by… It was at that moment a new thought came to mind and drowned out all others: Did she know of his intrigue, and the exception to the spell? He watched on as spinella's form inflated and expanded in pace, as she rubbed her growing middle, her skin squeaking like rubber. She looked at him, and she rubbed her belly, naking it squeak loudly, and laughing at his reaction.

"My, My, Axmie… I didnt expect you'd like this this much…~"

She spoke with a smirk, which only made the teensy blush harder. She beckoned him over, to which he hesitantly agreed. His mind was racing, seeing her body hiss and expand, combined with his princess' signature sassy smirk… Yeah this sure was, uh, something. He made a noise at being picked up… And then his entire face turned to a dark teal tone once be was sat on her growing middle.

"Comfy~?"

She asked with a smile, as axmay lightly shortcircuited, muttering unintelligably, as she laughed,

"Oh yeah, i bet you're comfy."

Her form kept inflating, as she noticed her limbs were thickening up, she smirked.

"Y'might wanna stay on top of me, Axmie, wouldnt want ya to fall off~"

The teensy lightly recovered his senses, and nodded,

"…Y-y-yes, P-prin-" "Oh, come on, we're alone now, let loose, Axmie!"

He looked at her, before sighing, the look in his eyes, albeit still flustered, changed to a more excited one. Spinella caught the look, and lightly blushed.

"….To answer your previous question… fffffFFuck, yes, you're comfier than the beanbags we have - and they're already comfy as hell."

He spoke, making the princess blink. She never heard him swear… And admittedly, was fascinated by this side of him. As her expansion continued, her limbs thickened still, and began to round out into domes, as she began to become spherical, losing mobility, as axmay still lied on top of her, lightly humming, as he began rubbing as much of her form as he could reach, making squeaks a plenty being heard, and in turn, making him lightly chuckle in amusement. The more she looked at him, the more she began to like this new side of him, and in turn, she admittedly loved him more and more, as he kept enjoying himself, all the rubbing and pressure making her blush… Before she let out an "EEP!", looking at the teensy with a flustered look, only to see him blushing as well, two, big, conjured hands behind him.

A smile appeared on his face at this new bit of info, as he giggled himself.

"Oh… You're enjoying this, aren't you, Spinzie~?"

He hummed, making her blush at the nickname, before she let out another noise, at being squeezed by the two conjured hands, which rubbed, squeezed, and poked her ballooning form.

"Ooohohoooh… You really must be enjoying this… And this~"

The giant hand poked her form, making it, and her, squeak.

"…and this~"

The giant hands pressed against her form, making her let out another noise.

"…hmhmhm… And especially this~"

The two hands grabbed the sides of her form, her form, and Spinella herself, squeaking in suprise, before she tried to stifle a moan… And failed. Axmay blushed furiously, before he chuckled,

"Judging by that sweet little noise you made, yeah, i bet you enjoyed that a lot~"

Her form kept growing, and growing, her hands, feet, and head lightly begining to sink into her form, as she was becoming perfectly spherical, as he moved on her giant, squeaking body, to be face-to-face with his princess.

"…Sooo~ how are we feeling, your highness~?"

He asked with a chuckle, only hearing a soft moan in response, as he traced little hearts unto her bubblizing form.

"Yeah, i bet you're feeling peeeerfectly fine."

He hummed, as he used the hands to squeeze her form again, making her moan again… As well as making her body creak, and groan.

"…Hmm… You're getting pretty big now, y'know, Spinzie? Very big…"

He softly spoke as he looked at the rest if her form, or as much as he could see, anyway,

"…So very, very big, that you're getting transparent…"

He moved back towards her, booping her nose.

"…You sure you warent… meant to be a balloon, love…~?"

He teased with a grin, making her blush greatly.

It was at this point he noticed her form was not allowing her to really speak, as he hummed softly, shrugging, as he tried to kiss her cheek… In a way that wouldnt really get his nose in the way, which made the princess giggle in amusement. He smiled, relaxing on her, for a moment de-summoning the hands, as he lied on her form.

"….Mmm… Yeah, i was right. Waaaaaay comfier than the beanbags."

He stretched, as he made himself comfortable, humming softly.

"…So very comfy… I could actually take a nap…"

He sighed, spinella thinking she succeeded in her plan…

"…But… I really want to see how big you can really be…~"

Spinella hummed, before lightly nodding, as much as she could. And with that he summoned the hands again, to lightly press into her, as he smiled.

"…You know… It does feel like im holding a balloon… Or some kind of ball for kung-foot, heheheh~"

He kept using the hands to squeeze her form, very much enjoying the noises she and her body made, all the squeaks, groans, and creaks.. He really enjoyed the sounds, indeed. He hummed, as he traced shapes unto her form, softly smiling, before poking it. Spinella was going through a lot of sensations right now; fluster, adoration, embarrassment, joy, and most of all, hollowness. There's always that feeling of hollowness when bubblized, and she admittedly enjoyed it. She also obviously enjoyed all the rubbing, poking, and prodding of her form tnat axmay was doing, but that could be seen as obvious. After a small while, axmay de-summoned the hands once more, simply sitting on her form, and watching with fascination on how big she could get… As the hissing continued, her body began to groan and creak by itself, which made the teensy's brows furrow lightly.

"…Spinzie? You feeling good?"

He asked, to which spinella furrowed her brows,

"Mhmm." "…Okay, ill take your word for it."

He hummed, patting her head with a smile, as he continued listening to her form's increasing sounds.

He knew that one couldnt pop by bubblization, lest attacked by a foe, and to deflate was to be hit by an ally. Still, the sounds were still lightly making him worried for his princess. As time went on, he heard spinella make soft noises, as her form was tightening more and more, the creaking and groaning rising in volume and pitch as he hummed softly in worry. He looked at her with a hint of worry, lightly trying to rub her form in hopes of helping her relax, as he hummed softly. Moments passed as the princess finally reached the final stages of bubblization, axmay addmittedly was now scared for spinella, as he looked to make sure she was okay. His worry for her only grew, as did her entire form.

creeeeeeaaaaaak…~

grooooaaaaaaaan…~

…creeeeeeEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAaaaak~

…groooooOOOOOOAAAAAAAaaaaan~

….squeeaaaaaaak…~~~

….Squeak~!

At that moment, the hiss completely stopped, as did her expansion, as she muttered something, axmay looking at her and moving carefully closer to her, her skin being drum-tight - and still absolutely comfortable.

"…Are you okay, Spinella…?"

He asked, worried.

"…'m fine… Now that y'know how big i can get… How 'bout you get some rest…~?"

She muttered, her speech returning now that she's at her maximum size, her words making him blush greatly.

"…I… I suppose i did promise that…"

He muttered, cautiously testing her pressure - still drum-tight, but with a bit of springiness to it, which made him hum in intrigue. He looked at her, before sighing.

"…Fine, s'pose i could rest… cant resist how comfortable you are to lay on, anyway."

He admitted, as he made himself comfortable lying down, and for the first time in a long while, resting. Spinella smiled, seeing her beloved teensy warlock rest, smiling even more when her ears picked up his little snores, as she began to close her eyes as well. They were both lovingly comfortable, so what the hell - both of them could use the rest. And thus, the teensy rested on his bubblized princess in the locked training chamber.

[rasairui]

wanted to send this, but didnt as i wasnt sure on if itd be okay, but from your reaction to the last anon seems like its okay

if im correct in assuming your obaachan is of the first generation of your family to live in the states... you are a third generation immigrant. in what world is a third generation imigrant not able to claim their culture/heritage? the fuck? sorry you had to deal with a guy pestering you about your race and trying to claim your too white to be affected by asian issues.

theres more id say (like how someone's ability to talk about issues isnt dependant on how much of something they are, but instead, how openly discussed it is in their family/community, which further shows how stupid it is to expect someone to put how much of a certain race they are in their posts) but i dont really wanna cause any stress to you

No it's okay, thank you. And you're close, I'm 4th generation. Bachan is 2nd generation, her father was first. I think the confusion comes from the fact that the Ojiichan I've been referring to is her father. The word I grew up calling him is something I've only actually seen once when I've looked up what someone's great-grandfather is called in Japanese(I looked up all the familial terms in english so I'd know how to spell them. Turns out there's a bunch of ways for most of them). Bc of this I usually just refer to him as Ojiichan when writing bc I'm mostly familiar with the word verbally, but I think it's spelled "Hijichan" in english. Looking it up usually just corrects to hojicha tea though. But yeah Bachan is 2nd generation. I was born on accident to very young parents and she did a lot to help raise me, especially once my mom was out of the picture. She was always very vocal about our race and heritage, more than my dad was even. And yeah my family is pretty open with it. We don't talk about some of it super often because it's painful, but y'know, they told me everything they could once I was old enough to understand. I learned about post-ww2 racism from people who were there. I've learned about the propaganda and the caricatures and the violence from people who were there. I learned about the camps directly from a man who was there. And I grew up hearing personal stories from my family about people who survived a fucking nuke and about people who did not. I'm a 4th generation immigrant and I'm mostly white but I think I've earned the ability to say that yellowface is bad without putting up a disclaimer. I don't know where the fuck that anon gets off.

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

I would agree with the other person who said that j+p had a thing going on but Paul was more detached from it than John was. In my own analysis (all for fun of course) I would think that that’s how it went but Paul had more internalized homophobia than John did and wanted to detach himself as a way of protecting soemthing about himself. John didn’t have those hang ups and got annoyed/hurt by Paul because of it. A lot of Paul’s songs that could be about/to John all sound steeped in regret and longing because he regretted how he handled things and because he was too late to fix it.

This is just me and it’s all for fun but what do you think?

Id probably agree that John was more comfortable with his sexuality in later life then Paul was (assuming Paul is bi, and I think its important to note that im only referring to him as bi here hypothetically and only for speculative purposes; its okay to speculate, but also he identifies as straight and I think it is always crucial that we respect that <3) (<<< not having a go at anyone there btw, just wanted to make a quick note of it y'know).

Johns a bit of dilemma, because it seems he was simultaneously secure in his position as an outsider and a misfit, but also deeply, deeply insecure of it. I think there was always a form of alienation underpinning John throughout his entire lifetime (but maybe thats just projection lol). Whereas Paul I feel like didn't experience the same sort of alienation John did - im sure Paul felt a bit unique and stuff y'know, and im not saying he has no insecurities, but with Paul (presumably) being a much more stable, headstrong and confident person (because he appears to have had a more loving and stable upbringing) I think he's always sort of known he can fit in with people; always been a bit more of an extrovert maybe (?).

I think possibly another thing to note is that Paul did come from a more working-class background then John, and so I think that that is largely why he has always had this compulsion to maintain some of that 'average bloke' spirit in him - which I don't think is necessarily a bad thing; like I think its great that Paul tried to ensure his kids didnt grow up spoilt and materialistic etc. But I guess having that security of always having been a relatively normal person, as well as having this desire to remain a bit of an ‘average joe’ (again, obviously Paul is very special, but I just mean normal in the sense that he's appears to have always been friendly and likeable and able to relate to other people etc.) maybe makes coming to terms with any homosexual urges more difficult. Paul appears to be comfortable with his sexuality (eg. When Howard Stern asked him something like "have you had any gay experiences?", Paul didn't react all, "ewwwww no!!!!" instead he just reacts like a regular fuckin' human being, saying something like, "I haven't actually, no"). But I suppose my point might be more about if Paul does have internalised homophobia, it might not be to the extent that he feels he has to portray himself as this hyper-masculine caricature or anything, but more so that he wouldn't have the confidence to step so far out of the social norms as to enter a gay relationship. Like I think Paul kind of likes having this balance between being a very unique individual, but also being a very normal, average bloke y'know.

John on the other hand, I get the sense he was sort of more okay with his sexuality because he already understood that he doesn't fit in. Like I think at some point he realised there is this alienation that is just never gonna leave him, so he might as well sort of embrace those eccentricities rather then fight them (but that doesn’t mean I think he became a confident person or anything; people can embrace their eccentric nature outwardly but still have a deep self-loathing within them).

And so if they did have a casual fling and John wanted more, it does feel like it would make sense for Paul to want to keep it casual. He's okay with his sexuality to the extent that he doesn't overreact if someone questions it, he's supportive of gay people and he's not even concerned about platonically kissing another man (see the video of him giving Elton John a friendly kiss) - and I think, whether he's straight or bi, its great that he's comfortable with all of this - but if he had had a further gay experience with John, I think he wouldn't have taken it into a full-fledged relationship, because I think he wanted a wife and kids, because he does enjoy conventionality to a large extent. Whereas John I think wasn't really looking for a wife and kids and stuff (I mean he already had Cyn and Jules, and it doesn't seem like he was that interested in living a particularly domestic lifestyle y'know).

PS what songs are you thinking about with the last part? Ive got a few ideas of the type I think you're on about, but it might make it easier for me to address and analyse them directly <3

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 04 | thomas jefferson

 title: freedom of the press

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich --- hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

words: 13.5k

warnings: this still doesn’t go past, like, pg-13, but careful around the end -- it isn’t quite sfw even tho its not rlly nsfw. also, neo-nazi mentions, the loml monica lewinsky mentions, bunny slippers & flaming hot cheetos (hope yall can handle it gettin SPICY 🔥)

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

Y/N SPENT THE following days, the next weeks, focusing on herself. She was letting herself get distracted, and with that, distracted by precisely the person she was supposed to be focusing on. It felt ironic, really, but she wasn't amused.

She spent time tapping her sources from and around the campaign trail, trying to establish a connection with other politicians who had been identified as potential candidates for the election, trying to expand her network beyond her small corner of the policy scene. ("The policy scene" was much bigger than she'd thought.)

She reached out to think tanks, to analysts, economists -- she was getting a little off track, but basically, she talked to everyone with no link to the name "Jefferson," despite the precise nature of her assignment.

Her stab at freedom from the now-former Secretary of State was to little avail. While he was the foundation of his campaign, there was enough else going on surrounding the election that she could dance around confronting him.

Yet, not for as long as she'd have liked.

She was knee-deep into finding the perfect person to cold call at Brookings when the crucial blow came.

"Y/N!" Her boss's perpetually peppy voice rang through the hall toward her office, and our fatigued heroine looked up with a brow raised. Ashley stopped in the doorway, appearing elated. "Guess what?"

Her eyes flashed with crazed excitement, and Y/N almost didn't want to ask what. It felt very much like a trick question.

In response to Y/N's expectant stare, silent and unmoving, Ashley sighed and entered. "You should be a lot more excited when I come running down to your office with a 'guess what,' y'know."

She sighed. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry! What ever exciting news could I be missing out on at this very moment?" Her contrived enthusiasm reeked of sarcasm, but Ashley's spirits were too high to be quashed, and she only rolled her eyes in response.

"So, you've been covering the Jefferson campaign for months, right?" Apparently she was ignoring the less-than-thrilled response. Y/N nodded. "And you were out in front of it before anyone else was, right? You know more than anyone else about his platform and history."

Grudgingly, she nodded again. "I suppose so." She was equally unexcited to claim to know Thomas Jefferson's past better than anyone else.

"And, he's projected to be the Republican frontrunner."

"The debates haven't even started, everything could change in a night," Y/N pointed out. "You know that."

"You're right, the debates haven't started." Y/N was clearly missing something. Ashley seemed to be unreasonably thrilled about the lack of pre-existing clash between the candidates. She raised a brow, and Ashley appeared to be holding back a squeal with how she was grinning. "But, the debates are only a few days from now, so, I called in an old contact from NBC, and of course, they'd heard of you--" She paused for dramatic emphasis, but the anticipation wasn't exactly killing Y/N, "And... since the Washington Post is co-sponsoring the event, they want to have you as one of the moderators for the first round of debates!"

With that, Y/N was struck silent. "They...?" She could only gape for a moment, and Ashley nodded excitedly.

"Mm-hmm. It's against precedent, but since you've become the most prominent and consistent reporter covering Jefferson the past few months, they think your input would be invaluable."

"But what about my live commentary?" she asked, still dumbstruck. Everything in her was telling her this was a bad idea; she needed to protest her way out. "I won't be able to provide as good of coverage of the debates if I'm not taking notes and writing during them. It'll hurt my articles. This is too big of an event not to write for."

She knew she was rambling, but Ashley only let out a sigh, as though Y/N was being absolutely ridiculous. "Oh, come on. Your commentary's more valuable on the spot if it can be used to grill the candidates and get Jefferson to talk."

"'Get Jefferson to talk'? This is a debate, not an interrogation." She blinked, visibly put-off. "Besides, it's not like I'd be controlling the floor. I wouldn't be doing much good anyway, and it really wouldn't get me much notice." She paused a moment, trying to gauge Ashley's reaction, and swallowed. "I think I should stick to my own territory."

"Y/N." Her tone was firm now. "This is the biggest opportunity you're going to get for people to notice you as a political journalist. It wasn't easy to get you this position, and besides, you're perfectly equipped for it. You've spent hundreds of hours by now researching the issues, contacting think tanks for different perspectives on them, contrasting Jefferson with the other candidates, and..." She took a thoughtful pause. "And I can't even scratch the surface of what you've been spending all this time on. If anyone should be moderating, it should be you. This isn't the time for cold feet."

Ashley had begun monologuing, and Y/N knew right there that there was no getting out of this job. It's not about getting cold feet, though, Y/N thought, I can do it, easily. What Ashley didn't know, though, was that there was more there.

The growing pause following her boss's speech was heavy with expectation, and finally, Y/N sighed, knowing she didn't actually have a choice in the matter if she cared to keep her job.

"Fine. Should I book myself a hotel in Detroit?"

"Don't bother. It'll come out of company funds; it's the least we can do."

She sighed, turning back to her computer, closing the tab she'd just opened. "Michigan, here I come."

_______________

THAT CONVERSATION HAD taken place Monday, and, as Y/N later realized, the first round of debates were that Wednesday, so she had approximately 48 hours to pack, fly, and get situated in Detroit. That evening was a whirlwind -- Ashley texted her that the flight the WaPo had booked her left at 10:00 on Tuesday morning, she immediately began her frenzied packing. Which, in turn, brings us once again to the apartment, filled with Y/N's anguish, the hair she was tearing out with stress, and clothing strewn over the carpet's full surface area.

"What do I wear, Ang? I'm gonna be on national TV, I need to look good but so, so, so professional," she wailed, looking up at her friend who was perched on the edge of her bed. Angelica gave her a sympathetic look.

"You're overthinking it, honey," she said, "No one's worried with what you're wearing, alright? It's what you say, not what you look like."

"But I'm..." She sighed, arms going slack along with the three different dresses she'd been holding up to the light, shoulders slumping. "I dunno, it's just the first time I'm gonna be that clearly in the public eye. When I'm writing I can just hide behind the words."

"The time for hiding's over." Angelica pushed herself off the edge of the bed, joining Y/N in the garment tsunami that threatened to claim her furniture. "You got the spot with the debates because people wanna hear from you, so pick an outfit. Doesn't matter which."

"But it does." Y/N looked over at her weakly, everything in her expression reading dejected, from her furrowed brow to her little pout. Angelica gave her a pointed look, and she huffed. "I just... It's not only the public, y'know? I'm also up with all the famous newscasters and the fucking Republicans, for God's sake."

"Since when do you care what Republicans think of you?"

"I..." She hesitated, considering herself. Angelica made a good point -- since when did she care? "I don't, really. I just don't want to look bad on national TV on my first gig where I'm... visible."

She pursed her lips, praying the issue wouldn't be pushed further.

Finally, Angelica huffed, beginning to pick through the pile of Y/N's clothes, seemingly resigned to the angst that deciding one outfit had apparently proved to be. With a sigh, Y/N slumped against the footboard of her bed, her dejected stare meeting the multicolored flood piling around her ankles. She carded a hand through her now-disheveled hair as she checked her phone, unable to stifle a grin at her Twitter notifications coming from all different corners of the political compass -- not to mention, now, John Adams. Her recent article on Jefferson's voting history was blowing up.

She began to respond to a tweet, nails tapping frantically against her phone screen, and though she couldn't see it, Angelica raised an eyebrow.

She let out a soft giggle as she read another response to her post: this time, the successive Secretary of State, his voice being behind her loud and clear. The feedback on her writing was only making her progressively giddy. Her smile curled with self-content, though, as she saw James Madison's message about her post, sent directly to her. Angelica raised another eyebrow.

"Y/N?" Angelica's tone bordered on cagey as it cut through Y/N's laser focus. She looked up, eyes wide. "The concerns about your outfit wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the Jefferson campaign, right?"

"Well, of course they do." She blinked, unable to place the intent behind the skepticism heavy in Angelica's words. "It's the only reason I have this gig, anyway."

Angelica pursed her lips; apparently, that hadn't been quite what she was asking. "Would it have anything to do with a specific person from the Jefferson campaign?"

Y/N paled. All-too-vivid memories of the state dinner that was now months past fought their way to the forefront of her mind -- her attempts to curb them hadn't been in vain till Angelica popped the question. "I'm sorry?"

The pause that followed as Angelica examined Y/N's look of near-panic was anything but silent, both their trains of thought threatening to derail themselves with conjecture. Angelica took in a shuddering breath.

"I just mean..." Y/N could hardly bear to meet Angelica's wary gaze. "D'you have a thing for James Madison?"

The next beat that passed was simply stunned. Y/N could hardly conceal her laughter in a huff; she had to swallow her amusement, every nerve in her body immediately relaxing.

"What did you just ask me?" She shook her head, small grin breaking out across her lips as her shoulders slumped. Angelica didn't look so sure. "I am not lusting over James Madison, Ang. He's literally married."

"Marriage isn't forever, babes." She pinned her with a skeptical stare, to which Y/N could only laugh.

"I swear to you, Angelica. You will at no point see me trying to jump James Madison's bones."

"So why'd you react how you did when I asked you about the Jefferson campaign, hm?" Angelica folded her arms, plainly unconvinced, and Y/N's breath caught. She'd supposed she was off the hook.

"What do you mean?" Y/N wished the question hadn't come out so breathily.

"Y/N," Angelica started, exasperated, "You've been messaging Madison on Twitter. You've met him multiple times and have spent your fair share of hours detailing to me each of the times you've met. You were just giggling at something he sent you." She was fully deadpan by then. "You don't need to hide it, I just want you to talk to me 'bout it."

"I promise, it's not that I'm in love with Madison." Y/N's smile as she returned to packing was meant to have been placating, but functioned as anything but. She needed to get back to packing before Angelica could press the matter. "Blue or green dress?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"I'm not, but I'm gonna be on a plane in twelve hours!" she said, "I need to finish packing."

"So there's no ulterior motive to how you're approaching the Jefferson campaign?"

For a moment just long enough to evoke doubt, Y/N paused. She wasn't inclined to reminisce on the last time she'd actually talked to anyone from the Jefferson campaign, but her psyche had other priorities. A nearly undetectable chill ran down her spine -- she could still feel his heavy hands trailing down to her hips, hot breath brushing over her cheek; she could even feel the sculpt and contour of his body as it pressed against hers, muscles rippling under his stiff button-down. Her skin burned still where rough calluses had grazed her neck.

"There's no ulterior motive, Ang." She wanted her words to be true, fighting back a shudder as she bottled up the memory. "I swear."

Angelica didn't look convinced.

________________

ABOUT TEN HOURS, a mildly annoying trip through TSA (the Post had paid for her pre-check, otherwise she'd have been less forgiving of the experience -- and the line), and two hours on a plane later, she rolled into her hotel lobby in Michigan, small suitcase dragging behind her. She knew she wasn't exactly a sight to see, just off a plane at noon in her socks and sandals, her oversized sweater. She certainly wasn't feeling as high-end as her hotel appeared to be.

The high ceilings, crown molding, and arched entryways all reeked of wealth, not to mention that the space was crawling with men and women in sharp suits, appearing as though they were on the verge of being willing to cut anyone who held them up for a moment too long. She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one Birkenstock to the other, waiting for the manager to return to the front desk so that she could check in. As she warily eyed the man marching through with a clipboard, aggression in each step, she had to wonder why the Washington Post had decided to drop here there, of all places.

She would've loved to disappear into her sweater, at that moment.

The manager returned to her position, looking just as sleek and professional as everyone else there, and Y/N's appearance seemed to give her pause. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes, I'm here to check into my hotel room for the next three nights." She gave the manager her warmest smile in an effort to diffuse some of her tense nature, but it was to no avail. "I'm here with the Washington Post, but I think it should be under the name L/N?"

Y/N waited a moment, trying to roll some of her post-travel soreness out of her shoulders as the manager typed away at the computer before her. She creased her brow, frowning for a moment. "Y/N?"

"That's me," she said, enthusiasm weak in her voice.

"Alright, you're up in room 569, so let me get you your key." She paused, rooting through drawers as her coworker appeared next to her, apparently taking a post at the next laptop over. She looked back up. "Alright, you should be all set," -- she slid the keys across the counter to Y/N -- "but it's still early, and I'm not sure your room's been checked out of quite yet. Excuse me for a moment to go see about that."

Before Y/N could say another word, she was gone, and Y/N let out a heavy sigh. It'd been a long 12 hours, and all she wanted was a proper bed and a nap. It seemed rest wasn't what the universe had in mind for her, though.

She began checking her Twitter while she stood in wait, paying no mind to the energetic bustle of who she'd worked out to be politicians and the like, given the snippets of conversation she'd picked up standing there; however, tuning out became significantly more difficult when a familiar voice sounded next to her.

"Yes, only the next three nights. The room is registered for the surname 'Madison'." If she couldn't guess from his voice, his words were a dead giveaway. She looked up, and sure enough, there was the man himself. Well, shit.

Not only was she painfully opposed to having to interact with him in her near-pajamas and slipper socks, feeling like the biggest mess she'd ever been, but she also knew that where he was, Jefferson wasn't far behind.

She immediately busied herself with something, anything on her phone, facing down and away from him in the hope that he wouldn't notice her. She'd just pulled up a scintillating article on diabetes in labradors, when--

"Y/N?" The man at the desk helping him had disappeared when she reluctantly turned to face him -- busying himself with something other than helping protect her from social interaction, apparently. James, however, looked all but amused.

"Hey, James." She did her best to return the positive sentiment he perpetually seemed to give off, but she knew it came out weaker than intended. "Should I assume I know what brings you here?"

"Should I assume that it'd be the same thing that brought you here?" He quirked an eyebrow, unable to resist eyeing her outfit. She sighed.

"That might be fair," she conceded, small smile resting on her lips. "Is the campaign all ready for the first round of debates?"

He laughed; not a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh, as though he couldn't believe the question. "Something like that. We've prepared Thomas as many talking points as we could think he might need, but I'm worried the moderators--" He gave her a pointed look, wearing a knowing smile, "--may end up grilling him regardless."

A wry smile crept onto Y/N's face. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Word travels fast, especially from the Washington Post's Twitter account."

"You really are always one step ahead, hm?"

"You're the one with the questions, last I checked."

"Well, I'm sure your campaign will be thrilled to hear them -- following you is why I got the gig, anyway." She only shrugged, despite the self-content etched into her grin.

"Oh, really?" Amusement was deep-set in his smile.

She nodded. "I'm forever grateful."

"Grateful enough to go easy on Thomas?"

"Not quite," she laughed, "When following his campaign makes me my first million, then we'll talk."

"Sounds like we'll have to step it up, then."

"Running on a deadline, James," she warned him in a singsong voice, folding her arms.

"We'll win you over by the end." He grinned, turning back to the woman at the desk, handing her his credit card, and shot Y/N a sly glance. "Thomas has always loved a challenge."

Her stomach turned at his words for reasons she couldn't explain, amused smile faltering for only a moment as James slid his card back into his wallet and tucked it into his coat pocket. James raised an eyebrow at her silence, her moment of hesitation.

To her delight, that was the moment the concierge returned, wearing a wide (and contrived, but that was how customer service was) smile, stepping back up to the desktop Y/N stood before.

"Alright, your room should be all set, Ms. L/N." She returned to quickly tapping at the keyboard, before pulling out a number of brochures. "These are for room service and the various hotel amenities. Our pool is on the second floor, gym is on the third along with the spa, meeting rooms are on the fourth, and the business office is on the fifth, fully equipped with desks and printers." She hesitated, glancing with disdain down at Y/N's choice of travel outfit. "Are... you here on business? Or... ?"

As she trailed off, Y/N sighed, returning the less-than-candid customer service smile. "Yes, I am, actually. Thanks so much for everything."

She nodded. "Alright! Don't hesitate to come let us know if there's anything else you need. There will always be someone here to help you."

"Perfect." She turned back to James as she folded up the brochures, shoving them into the side pocket of her purse. "Well, sounds like I'll be seeing you around, then."

"Thomas and I look forward to it."

Then, the automatic doors of the lobby slid open, and a rush of cold air, as well as a grand entourage, made their way in, catching both of their attention. "Well, speak of the devil."

At that, Y/N realized exactly why there was such a crowd, and it became immediately clear why the Washington Post had chosen that hotel to set her down in, among the countless in the area. Thomas Jefferson had just entered, along with a bustling crowd of Secret Service and reporters, all orbiting him like he was the sun. He wore a broad grin, laughing and shaking hands, and Y/N stared for decidedly a moment too long, longer yet than James had. Her breath caught as Thomas looked over at her, and she found herself frozen, rooted to the spot, his gaze locked on hers.

Thomas, too, was stunned when she caught his eye. His pause was minuscule enough to be unnoticeable, hardly a fleeting glance that even Y/N didn't think anything of, but his self-consciousness couldn't let it go in that moment. His smile faltered for a moment, softening to become small, apologetic, and certainly more sheepish than it'd ever been, all the teasing self-content drained out of it. For the first time, she returned the smile -- tense, nervous, but real.

The flash of a camera broke their gaze, and the moment ended as quickly as it came.

_______________

Y/N CRASHED ALMOST immediately into her hotel bed upon reaching her room; she'd had less sleep than she'd have liked during the past thirty-six hours, anxiety keeping her awake. She was shaken from her long-overdue nap, though, by her phone buzzing angrily next to her. She groaned as she recognized the number as belonging to Ashley, her boss, and declined almost immediately.

After that, though, despite her best efforts, her nap seemed to have ended, and much to her dismay. She made the mistake of instead opening her email, then, deciding productivity was the obvious cure for sleeplessness -- until she opened her most recent email from Ashley. (The subject line read 'IMPORTANT, IMMEDIATE, AND URGENT.' Got any synonyms for 'redundant'?)

The oversized, highlighted body text blared at her to the point where her eyes began to water, still adjusting to the light and certainly not ready to be staring directly into all the light of the sun her boss had managed to stuff into a single communication.

There's no reason to use font size 25, she thought, rather irked, and highlighting every word in bright yellow goes entirely against the point of highlighting.

She could only bring herself to skim the message, but when she did, she groaned at its contents, falling back onto her hotel bed in annoyance. Thomas Jefferson was having another campaign rally, apparently, to garner support going into the debates. And she was being prodded to attend.

It was expected to be a small ordeal; the venue was modest, and around 100 people would be in attendance, maximum. So, she went. Grudgingly, with a full 30 oz cup of coffee, and in jeans and a tank top, but she went.

She showed up just over 20 minutes before the event -- a town hall on his policy, as it turned out. She felt a bit out of place, the look she was rocking from her hiking boots to her disheveled post-nap bun not exactly screaming 'distinguished professional,' but she liked to think throwing a blazer atop the whole look saved it.

The venue was small, homey -- she'd read that it was generally used as a comedy club, but that the space could be rented out (obviously). Y/N figured the best use of her time there was to get to know Jefferson's base of voters. Who were they? What did they care about? And, most importantly, how long could they keep her occupied so she never actually had to speak with Jefferson?

The first person she met, though, wasn't exactly a supporter.

She'd tucked herself into a back corner as everyone swarmed Jefferson, who was busy giving his opening remarks, but she was content just to record them, to reserve judgment for the time being (verbally, at least). She had the audio being taped, all but absentmindedly taking notes for herself for the debates. Yet, there wasn't much substance in most of what he was saying.

"This seat taken?"

She looked up with her eyebrows raised, surprised to have been approached. What met her was the smiling face of a vaguely-familiar Democratic reporter, and eyebrow cocked in question.

"I... No! No, please sit." She smiled, motioned to the metal folding chair beside her. "We've met before, right? Ben Arnold, New York Times?"

"That's me. And it's Y/N, yeah?" He pulled out the chair, swinging a leg around it and resting his forearms on his thighs as he looked to her. "You're from the Washington Post, the one tracking Jefferson."

She sighed. "That seems to be everyone's first reaction to meeting me, hm? Jefferson's media adversary?" Her tone was joking, but there was a certain bitterness in them at her career now being irreparably tied to Secretary Jefferson. She hoped Ben didn't take it personally. "Yeah, you've got the right girl, though."

"To be fair, you've become famous for digging up info on him that no one else seems to have." He shrugged. "I've read some of your recent stuff, since we're following the same campaign; hope you know you're famous in your own right, even if it is tied to him." He nodded toward the stage with that, just as applause broke out and Jefferson began taking questions from the crowd.

She chuckled, though it was all but mirthless. "Thanks, but I'm not so sure about that. Everyone loves gossip, and they only know me because they think I'm here to dish out the dirt on Jefferson."

"Now, that's not true." She raised a brow, and he grinned. "They follow you because you knowledgeably and eloquently dish out the dirt on Jefferson."

"Oh, that's so different." She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help her laugh at his words.

"It's true!" he protested. "C'mon, there's a reason the public has latched onto your coverage and not mine."

"I dunno about that." She pursed her lips, stifling her small smile. "I've read your writing. It's really good."

"Aw, you've looked up my writing? I'm flattered." He appeared touched, though mockingly, placing a hand on his heart and plastering on an exaggerated pout, causing her to laugh.

"Well, you did give me your business card."

He sighed, nodded sagely. "Ah yes, I suppose the media circus is easily Google-able, huh?"

"What can I say, clowns recognize clowns." Her gaze drifted back toward the stage with this, turning toward Jefferson as she cast Ben a sidelong glance. The corners of her lips quirked up. "And we are all caught in this circus, too." The pointed look she gave Jefferson at that was entirely devoid of subtlety, and Ben laughed.

"Are you claiming Jefferson as part of our circus? A bold move, Y/N."

"Good point, good point." She leaned back in her chair with a grin. "So what are we, then? Consumers taking advantage of free entertainment?"

"I dunno, we're making money off this circus." He pursed his lips. "Shit, what d'you call the people who like, run the circus?"

Her eyes widened in amusement as she looked back over at him. "What, we're the ringmasters?"

"Yeah, yeah, exactly!" She couldn't keep herself from laughing at that, the idea of Jefferson as a circus freak or a traveling sideshow too comical to entertain. He cracked a grin as well, unable to take himself seriously. "C'mon, hear me out -- he's up there playing the fool, and we're making the big bucks off of it, hm?"

"Fair enough," she conceded, grin now chronic and apparently contagious. "Anyway, what're you here for? Just general info from the town hall, or looking for something specific?"

"Well, I figured this was my chance to question Jefferson before the debates, y'know?" He nudged Y/N at that. "Or can I just pass my questions off to you for tomorrow, since I've heard you're moderating now?"

She sighed. "Word really does travel fast when Jefferson's name is attached, huh?"

"Or it's because your name's attached." She gave him a skeptical look, and he held up his hands defensively. "I'm serious! People care about what you have to say now, y'know? Given, it is about his campaign, but really, it's your take on the next election that they want -- it's no longer just about him."

Y/N had to pretend her chest wasn't swelling with pride at that. Perhaps he was just feeding her ego, talking her up because he wanted to be able to use her for sources, but it was nice to hear regardless of the motive behind it. Her small smile grew. "Well, thanks, I guess. I'll certainly take it."

"You should." He looked like he was about to continue, but his following sentence was broken off by a sudden uproar of excitement. Hollers, cheers, and applause sounded loudly from the center of the room, and they both looked over to see Jefferson exiting the podium, moving down to begin talking to the voters there to see him, and Y/N sighed.

"Guess we'd better get a move on if we want anything out of this event."

"I suppose so." He huffed as he lifted himself out of his chair, and Y/N immediately followed suit, tucking her laptop into her bag. "You headed to talk to Jefferson?"

"Nah, actually." Her gaze darted through the room as she tried to find where to begin. "Just tryna find out what his supporters care about for the election. Needa know what points I need to drive home tomorrow at the debate." He nodded, and she cocked an eyebrow. "Care to join me?"

"Think I'll have to take a rain check, unfortunately. My editor wants direct quotes from Jefferson, and this is most of my window of opportunity." He glanced over at her with a small grin as they walked together toward the center of the room. "Come find me if you get sick of the Republicans, though. I'd be more than happy to abandon Jefferson for a cup of coffee at the place around the corner."

He winked before he made off toward where Jefferson stood, and Y/N was left stunned a moment. Shit, was he hitting on her? She couldn't help it as her eyes raked over his retreating form, biting her lip as she decided that she certainly wouldn't have minded if he was. After all, even the clowns need company in the media circus.

She didn't let herself dwell, though, but instead fixed her focus on the task at hand. She floated throughout the room for the next hour or two, meeting Ben's eye in passing here and there, receiving a wry grin. A few trends emerged from Jefferson's supporters, and they were fairly generic. Russia, China, healthcare, the crushing weight of existence and the feeling that they were running out of time, fear of the impending race war, healthcare -- y'know, the usual.

(Perhaps she'd spoken to one too many alt-righters. The fact that they were at the Jefferson town hall spoke volumes.)

A few hours deep, she checked her watch, concerned about how long this would go on, leafed through her notes trying to determine whether she had enough to just jump ship, to climb into her hotel bed, order room service, and take her pants off. She glanced back up at Jefferson warily.

Her gaze traveled lazily around the room as she decided talking to one or two more people wouldn't kill her, wincing internally even as she made the decision. She braced herself for just a few more minutes of crazy.

"Y/N!"

Oh, the voice that came from her left was melodic, sounded of angels singing, of her walking miracle saving her from the political shitshow, and she turned with a smile. Walking toward her brightly was Dolley Madison, and her brows shot up as she reached her.

"Hey, Dolley, what's up?"

"Not much." She pulled Y/N for an unexpected hug, grinning as she pulled back to look at her from arm's length. Her hands still rested on Y/N's shoulders. "Fancy meeting you here, though. What are the odds?"

"Oh, so low. Especially considering my job and your marriage, who knew we'd both end up at Jefferson's town hall?" Her tone was playful as Dolley rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't gimme that. I'm just glad to see you."

Y/N laughed as Dolley finally pulled back, settling beside her. "Jesus; tell me about it. D'you know how many crazy voters I've had to pretend were completely normal in the past few hours. Even just your sanity is a breath of fresh air."

"Yeah, the American voter." Her smile was amused as she eyed the crowd. "Really gives you hope for the future of our country, hm?"

"Of course." Y/N laughed, tucking a hair behind her ears. "Comforting to know these are the people who determine our president for the next four years."

"I'm sure." Dolley glanced back up toward where Jefferson stood, James apparently now beside him making his way through the crowd. "Though, I do find a bit of comfort in the idea of Thomas being the one behind the wheel for the next four years."

"That makes one of us." Though Y/N's tone was joking, her words were dead serious, and transparently so. Dolley grinned as she caught her eye.

"Yeah?"

"I might be just a little bit biased." Y/N shrugged. "To be fair, I've spent the past four months digging up all the dirt there is on him, and reviving any and all skeletons in his many, many closets."

"Yeah, I gotcha. I keep up with your articles." Dolley winked, and Y/N could feel herself flush. The fact that Dolley Madison actively kept tabs on her writing felt like quite the honor. "Didn't think any of it was all that damning, though, to be honest."

"No, I agree with you." Y/N nodded reasonably, eyes fixed on Jefferson as he moved fluidly through the room, weaving between people and families, shaking hands, taking selfies. "And I'm glad it comes off that way, too. I try to keep the tone of my writing neutral, but as a journalist, I have to look at everything with a critical eye, y'know?"

"I've gotcha. I may be biased too, considering my husband is probably gonna be his running mate." Dolley grinned as she caught James's eye and waved to him. He was at the opposite end of the room, but he began walking toward them almost immediately.

"James may be what saves the ticket in my eyes, to be honest." Y/N returned the smile as he neared them, and turned to Dolley. "If not, though, is it too late to take you up on covering my therapy costs?"

She laughed, squeezing Y/N's forearm lightly. "I'll just have to hope James helps keep your sanity these next few months."

"What's that about Y/N's sanity?" James furrowed his brow as he reached them, a small smile resting on his lips, but his gaze full of concern.

The two women shared an entertained look before Y/N turned to James. "Just that when I lose it, the two of you had better find me a comfy asylum."

James's visible confusion deepened as Dolley's grin grew. "Don't worry about it, love. We were just discussing Y/N's writing about the campaign."

"Ah, so that's why you're losing your sanity?" He raised an eyebrow, and Y/N nodded in confirmation. "Then no worries, we'll find you the best therapist money can buy."

She let out a soft 'aw,' placing her hand over her heart. "When you do, I'll be sure to write an exposé on the generosity of the Madisons. You'd better be honored when I cross party lines for you two."

James grinned. "Abandoning partisanship for the Jefferson campaign? Never thought I'd see the day."

"You won't. It'll all be for Dolley." Y/N shot her a wink. "I'll throw all my weight behind Jefferson when Hell freezes over."

"You do so much for me," Dolley sighed dramatically, wiping away an imaginary tear as she squeezed Y/N's hand, pretending to be moved by her words. Meanwhile, James folded his arms, wearing a small smile.

"He'll see to it that that's sooner than you think."

________________

SHE ABANDONED JEFFERSON'S rally not long after, having no desire to breathe any more air that reeked so heavily of contrived charisma and shitty cologne, but having all the desire in the world to snuggle into her warm pajamas and pop open a bottle of hotel wine. After all, the debates didn't start for nearly 24 more hours.

She was about to pick up her nap from earlier right where it'd left off, but had first to piece together what she'd taken away from the rally and forward it over to Ashley. Not to mention the unfortunately necessary hours of preparation between her and the debates. She couldn't mess up her first run on TV. It was two hours and half a bottle of wine later that she sent off the culmination of her notes and recordings from the afternoon, and by the time Ashley emailed her back, it was nearly eight PM. After that, she resolved to spend no more than two hours writing and revising her questions for the following evening.

She groaned at the fourth email from Ashley -- she had too much criticism, but not nearly enough suggestion. If all my ideas are bad, Y/N thought, frustrated, why don't you have any better ones? After shooting her a response, she decided to take a well-deserved break.

At this point in the night, shame was a non-factor in her decisions, and she was far beyond caring if anyone down in the lobby was going to judge her tank top or bunny slippers. She just wanted whatever candy went best with shitty, five-dollar, red wine, and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos, and she knew the hotel's food kiosk was the most convenient place to find both.

"Wait, hold the elevator!" She only really kicked into gear when turned the corner on her floor to see the elevator's doors about to close, and she really didn't have the patience left to wait for the next one down, let alone actually take the stairs. To her delight, a hand darted out against the door at her words, and they bounced back open. She breathed a sigh of relief as she finally reached them, ready to sing her mystery savior's praises -- that is, until she saw who was standing in the back of the elevator, and her eyes widened; she'd be lying if she said she didn't seriously consider braving five flights of stairs just to reach the ground floor undisturbed.

"Oh, I-- Y/N..." Jefferson's voice trailed off, surprised, as she stepped hesitantly into the elevator, keeping her distance from him even in the small space. "Hey."

"Secretary Jefferson." She only acknowledged him, not meeting his eyes as the elevator doors finally closed. He glanced over at her with an eyebrow raised at that, though, almost surprised that 'Thomas' had somehow reverted to 'Secretary Jefferson' in just the past few weeks, but he couldn't pretend he didn't know why -- that was why he didn't say a word about it, especially since they both knew, and both wanted to deny, that they couldn't help but still think about the last time they'd met. The tension was heavy in the growing silence.

She could feel his gaze over her shoulder, could see him out of the corner of her eye, but she was determined not to catch his eye, looking instead firmly down to her phone screen, responding to Angelica and Alex's texts from earlier in the day (keeping her brightness down, though, so he couldn't see those, either). She swallowed thickly as he looked back up, biting her lip as she glanced over at him. She looked back down for a moment, anxious in the deafening silence, eyes unfocused but toward her phone screen, but she figured she was safe to sneak another glance at him -- apparently, he'd made the same calculation.

She froze as their eyes met, breath catching in the back of her throat and heat rushing to her face, and he only smiled, waiting to see if she would make the next move. She was determined to ignore him, but it appeared as though she'd been caught. He held her gaze a moment as the elevator descended; it appeared she wouldn't be the first to speak.

She bit her lip, looking up at him as his eyes traveled down her form, grin widening as he caught sight of her pajama pants and slippers, and he raised a teasing brow. "Harry Potter? Really?"

She glanced self-consciously down at her Deathly Hallows pants, her face growing hotter by the second, and she looked back up at him weakly. "They're good books, okay?" she said, tone defensive as she folded her arms, fixed her gaze back on the elevator doors before them, and he chuckled.

"You won't hear me arguin' with that." He had to choke back another laugh as she rolled her eyes, letting out a nearly-inaudible huff. "Aw, c'mon, I'm just teasin'."

She scowled as she looked up at him, feeling more-than-flustered and far from entertained. "What do you want from me, Jefferson?"

He quirked up a brow at her. "Really?" He paused, seemingly in disbelief, and she shook her head blankly at him, waiting for him to continue. "We just never gonna talk about that state dinner, then?"

Her face was now burning; she couldn't meet his eye. He'd finally pointed out the elephant in the room, and for once in her career, it didn't happen to be the one that belonged to the GOP. Just the one that had decided to sit directly on her ego and crush her spirit. "I certainly wasn't planning on bringing it up."

He sighed. "C'mon, Y/N." She didn't look up. "Alright, fine, pretend it didn't happen. But I just wanted to say that--"

That was the exact moment the elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor, catching both of their attention immediately. He cut himself off as the doors began to open. As they caught sight of the numerous people standing before them in the lobby, waiting to get onto the elevator, he glanced back down at her to find her looking up at him, biting her lip but her expression unreadable.

"Some other time, Secretary Jefferson."

She exited the elevator without another word, and he did the same, although slow to follow suit. He didn't continue after her; he couldn't see the point. There was no way he'd be able to have that conversation with her in a lobby full of politicians, but his stare was still attached to her as she left. He really didn't know what to make of her -- but he intended to figure it out.

________________

THE NEXT EVENING was the first night of the debates. To be quite candid, to Y/N, nearly the entire night was a blur. She'd gotten ready with a series of emails to her boss and with Angelica on Facetime, helping her strike the perfect balance of femininity and professionalism (it'd proved to be a tough line to walk), and arrived at the venue hours early as per her official instruction. She steeled herself for the ordeal, determined to ignore any lingering tension between her and Jefferson. She had a job to do there, and she intended to do it right. After the debate, once she began to remove her microphone and slowly make her way out, she avoided him at all costs -- even if the confrontation was inevitable, with the unfortunately large overlap between their lives, it was neither the time nor the place, and she intended to put it off as long as possible.

Chatter filled the room behind her. Everyone who had shown up to watch the debates live was now slowly filing out, apart from groups here and there of stragglers or of people who wanted to approach the candidates afterward. She handed her microphone off to a tech intern with a warm smile and a 'thank you,' collecting her notes before she went backstage to retrieve her coat. (Michigan winters, she'd learned, were brutal.)

She shuffled everything back into her folder, glancing at the crowd behind her, when she caught sight of a familiar face. She furrowed her brow and squinted. She paused, considering whether to go down to greet him -- she hardly knew him, after all -- but he beat her to the punch. He waved, beckoned her over when he caught her eye, and warily, she obliged.

"Hey, it's Lafayette, right? We met at the state dinner; I'm Alex's friend, Y/N."

He grinned as she reached him, clutching her papers to her chest and extending a hand in greeting, which he took without hesitation. "Oui, I remember. It is good to see you, Y/N, although Alexander neglected to mention zat you would be moderating ze debates."

"Oh, what, didn't he tell you how important I am?" She shrugged, shaking her head with a grin as though it was obvious. "Next I'm coming for Anderson Cooper's job, just you wait."

He laughed, folding his arms as he glanced up toward the stage. "I do not doubt it for even a moment. Are you moderating again tomorrow night?"

She nodded. "Mhm. You coming tomorrow night?"

"Oui. I came all ze way to Michigan for zis; it would be a shame if I was only 'ere for one night, hm?" He raised his eyebrows, and she shrugged, nodded. He flashed her a sly grin. "Besides, since I now know zat you are going to be 'ere tomorrow, zat gives me all ze more reason to show up."

Her breath hitched a moment, before she laughed nervously, running a hand through her hair. "Ah, yes, can't miss my political commentary and passive aggression for two hours onstage. Isn't that your idea of a perfect Thursday night?"

"More or less." His smile was sharp, his gaze all but wolfish for a moment, and a chill ran down her spine before his expression softened. "Would it be against your ethics as a journalist to tell me which of ze candidates you are supporting?"

Y/N shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not a fan of any of them at the moment, but we'll see how it shakes out after the second night of debates. After all, the candidates are only human, so I've gotta find a way to look past the skeletons in their closets."

Lafayette raised a wary eyebrow, looking concerned. "Ze 'skeletons in their closets'?" he repeated, and she cracked a grin.

"Yeah, like the bad things from their past?"

He stared at her, expression deadpan. "I am from France. You will 'ave to forgive me zat we do not use murder as an idiom for all wrongdoings."

She couldn't help her laugh at that, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Cut me some slack; I've grown up with it."

He raised his eyebrows. "With murder?"

"No! With the English language!" she defended, laughing, and he couldn't stifle his grin any longer.

"My apologies, chérie. I could not 'elp myself." He held up his hands in his defense, and she rolled her eyes. "Is it safe to assume you are not voting for any of ze candidates zat 'ave murdered anyone?"

She shook her head, amused. "Yeah, that's a fair guess."

"I am glad to 'ear it." He paused a moment, grinning as he nodded to someone behind her, and she raised a brow. She glanced over her shoulder to see none other than Thomas Jefferson approaching, headed down the same stairs she'd taken to reach Lafayette several minutes before, and she groaned internally. Just her luck. Would it be rude to immediately run the moment he reached where she was standing? "Thomas! 'Ow 'ave you been?" Lafayette immediately pulled him into a hug as he reached the pair of them, greeting him like an old friend, and Jefferson pulled back with a small smile of his own.

"Gotta say, I've been worse," he said, "Especially when you weren't here. Spendin' all that time over in France, abandonin' us." He put a hand on his heart, shaking his head with a playfully mournful frown, and Lafayette rolled his eyes.

"Oui, I am sure I was sorely missed." He huffed, shaking his head, and Jefferson cracked a grin. "I left you with an open invitation to come and visit me whenever you pleased, and you never came. I did not feel particularly missed, Monsieur Jefferson."

"Ah, I'll find a way to make it up to you." He shot Lafayette a wink, and in the midst of the interaction, Y/N considered just silently slipping away. They seemed to have forgotten she was there, and if there was ever a time to escape, it was right then. She hesitated. "Though, you never came to visit me back in D.C., either," Jefferson pointed out to his friend, who scoffed, "So who's really to blame?"

"I resent ze accusation, Thomas. I was busy. I am a very important person with very important things to do, and I simply could not find ze time. I tried to visit you, but alas, ze people of France must come first." He sighed dramatically, his entire proclamation made in jest. Jefferson rolled his eyes.

"You implyin' I'm not doin' anything down in D.C.? That hurts, Laf, really."

Lafayette grinned. "Of course not."

It was then that Y/N began to back away from the pair, seemingly forgotten in their enthusiastic greeting, and she figured that she'd be able to escape without a problem. Just after she began to turn, though, Lafayette spoke.

"Ah, Thomas, you know Y/N, hm?" She froze at that. Her retreat no longer seemed as secure as it had previously. His tone was jovial as he motioned to her, and she reluctantly turned back around to face them. "Obviously, from zis," --He motioned to the stage, and Y/N met Jefferson's eyes warily-- "but ze two of you met at ze state dinner, non? With Alex?"

Jefferson seemed to be taking his cues from Y/N at that point, watching her with raised brows as she sighed, plastering on a smile as she turned to Lafayette. "Yeah. Yeah, we've met."

What followed that was a momentary silence. Lafayette had obviously detected rigidity of the interaction, but he hadn't quite figured out what to do with it, and Y/N wasn't at all inclined to force the conversation to happen. She had no interest in making small talk with Jefferson. Lafayette cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at Jefferson, who sighed.

"Yeah, a couple of times now," Jefferson added tiredly. "State dinner wasn't the first."

"Oui? When else?"

Y/N and Jefferson shared a tired glance. The whole interaction was painfully out of character for both of them, their actions and words forced, and while neither of them seemed up to carrying the conversation, it certainly seemed Lafayette was doing his best.

"Just, through work, Lafayette. Nothing all that exciting. I've been covering his campaign for a while now, so by the state dinner, we'd already met once or twice," Y/N explained, offering Lafayette a weak smile. "Y'know, exciting stuff."

"Actually, about the state dinner." Both Y/N and Lafayette were surprised when Jefferson spoke up once again, instead of just letting the conversation entirely drop. She was concerned as to where this was going. "I just," he paused, meeting her eyes, "wanted to apologize, if I ever made you uncomf--"

"Don't worry about it, Secretary Jefferson," Y/N cut him off abruptly with a sigh before plastering on an understanding (obviously forced) smile. He raised his eyebrows. "It's fine; it was a mistake. And this really isn't the time or the place. We can... talk about this later." She huffed, clutching her papers even more tightly against her chest. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't hide how flustered she was.

He paused, searching her expression, clearly not quite believing her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled stiffly.

"Alright," he sighed. He made pointed eye contact with her, squaring his shoulders. His gaze was determined if not frustrated. "We will talk about this some other time. See you around, Lafayette, Y/N." He nodded to both of them, holding Y/N's gaze for just a moment too long, his expression steely. She could feel her heartbeat in her head; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and he turned and left. Lafayette and Y/N both stayed there a moment longer, frozen to the spot and stunned for entirely different reasons.

There was a skip, before Lafayette broke the silence.

"What happened at ze state dinner?" Lafayette asked, turning to her, but she didn't even hear him. She was still fixated on Jefferson's parting words. Her heart was in her throat as she watched him retreat. Jesus, fuck.

We will talk about this.

___________________

Twitter

@gilafayette started following you.

Y/N raised an eyebrow from where she sat on her hotel bed. The debates were only a few hours away.

@Y/N_L/N: As the second night of Republican primary debates nears, keep up with the biggest issues and the who's-who of the candidates with the Washington Post's recent article about night 1 of the debates. Join us tonight on the official live stream, co-sponsored alongside NBC, and hear it all firsthand from the candidates themselves.

Quoted article: https://www.washingtonpost.com/fakelink/clowns

@BenArnold started following you.

Replying to @Y/N_L/N: @BenArnold: or you could just read my recap, but to each their own ig

She rolled her eyes at the tweet, though smiling to herself. She considered replying to it, but then thought better of it -- his tweet was so clearly in jest, and it was too easy to misinterpret tones over the internet. She opted to like the tweet.

@JamesMdson retweeted your recent tweet.

New message from @A_Hamilton:

@A_Hamilton: wanna grill jefferson about our war debts with france tn???

@A_Hamilton: i could even write u the questions

@A_Hamilton: wait omg open it up to audience questions and claim it's from someone else if u don't wanna attribute it to urself

@A_Hamilton: Suzie from Mississippi asked: why the fuck would you decide not to engage in France's war as secretary of state, not even try to assist them when we HAD the funds and they'd just helped us in our war, and then oppose an improved centralized banking system so that we could unilaterally balance the national budget, asshole?

@Y/N_L/N: have u been drinking again

@A_Hamilton: ok ok hear me out. like he wouldn't suspect a thing!!!! he doesn't even know we're friends why would it b me

@A_Hamilton: wait shit we saw him at the state dinner

@A_Hamilton: fuck nvm just pin the question on lafayette as a bitter french diplomat

@Y/N_L/N: alex.

@Y/N_L/N: i swear to god, you are the ONLY voter THAT invested in our debt to france

@Y/N_L/N: isnt it just like a trade deficit, anyway??

@A_Hamilton: YES THATS THE PROBLEM

@A_Hamilton: he can't even deal w our relations with one of our oldest allies, he was a shitty secretary of state

@Y/N_L/N: clean up the language and ill lead the conversation there

@Y/N_L/N: it's not a completely shit idea

@A_Hamilton: ur the only reporter that matters ily

✅ Read, 5:27 PM.

@gilafayette wants to send you a message. Accept?

@gilafayette: what happened at the state dinner between you and thomas

@gilafayette: i tried to ask him but he is very evasive

@gilafayette: i am concerned about him since then

Y/N's eyes widened as she accepted the message. She'd expected it to just be dropped, for Lafayette to entirely let it go, as it truly wasn't his problem, but there she was. She raised a brow at the last message, though.

Messages to @gilafayette:

@Y/N_L/N: it was nothing important, but why are you concerned about him??

@gilafayette: he has been acting strange since we saw you

@gilafayette: he and i went for coffee and he was preoccupied for the whole time

@gilafayette: and when i tried to ask him he was being very evasive

@Y/N_L/N: it really wasn't anything monumental. hes probably preoccupied w/ the debates, don't read into it

@Y/N_L/N: have u tried just asking him what's on his mind?

@gilafayette: brb

She rolled her eyes at the message. Of course he hadn't even thought to consider the obvious solution: communication. There seemed to be a disconnect between Lafayette and the obvious, though..

Messages to @gilafayette:

@gilafayette: he says he is fine and not to worry

@gilafayette: but i worry

@Y/N_L/N: did he say what was on his mind

@gilafayette: no

@gilafayette: brb i will tell him you asked. perhaps he only does not want to talk to me.

Her pulse skipped as she read the message; her eyes widened. Shit.

@Y/N_L/N: no lafayette pls don't say that

@Y/N_L/N: i didn't ask. i just wanted to give you a better idea for what to ask.

@gilafayette: yes you told me to ask

@gilafayette: exactly

@gilafayette: what is the difference?

She let out a groan, burying her face in her hands. This whole interaction felt so middle-school to her. Y/N said to ask Lafayette to ask Thomas if he's still thinking about her!

@Y/N_L/N: please lafayette just keep me out of this

@Y/N_L/N: don't wanna get involved in ur relationship with him. if i wanted to ask him something id do it on my own time

@gilafayette: wait he has just responded

@Y/N_L/N: so you still sent the message???

@gilafayette: it was too late, i am sorry!

@Y/N_L/N: what did he say??

@gilafayette: "if she wants to know, tell her to ask me herself"

@Y/N_L/N: lafayette i stg

@Y/N_L/N: please tell him this was just a misunderstanding and it wasn't MY question!!

✅ Read, 5:49 PM.

She groaned, letting herself fall back onto her bed as she saw the read receipt. Just her luck.

@Thomas_Jefferson wants to send you a message. Accept?

Oh, fuck. She didn't want to open the message, but at the same time, she was desperate to see what he had sent. In the midst of her internal struggle, it occurred briefly to her that if she didn't just open the message, he'd find some way to confront her about it in person that night, and -- to her dismay -- her mind was made up.

Messages to @Thomas_Jefferson:

@Thomas_Jefferson: did you really just avoid every time i tried to talk to you abt that night and then ask lafayette what was on my mind???

@Thomas_Jefferson: im going to come talk to you after the debate tonight. don't leave the building.

✅ Read, 5:56 PM.

________________

WITH JEFFERSON'S WORDS still in mind, Y/N fled the second night of debates the moment she could cut loose, calling an Uber before they even gave her the go-ahead to leave, not having a second to waste.

She caught his eye on the way out, him surrounded by three campaign staffers and James Madison, and he raised an eyebrow at her. The intimation was obvious: wait up for him.

She broke the eye contact immediately, shaking her head lightly. She had a blue Toyota Camry and a driver named Mandy to find out on the snow-coated street, and she was off long before he had even a chance to try to follow her.

She'd assumed the ordeal was over. She thought it was over with, that she'd somehow managed to escape scot-free, and that she'd managed to avoid Jefferson privately confronting her once and for all.

Boy, was she wrong.

She spent her final evening in the hotel carefree, drafting the second night's article as Lizzo played in the background. She'd packed most of her things, aside from the previous night's bottle of wine and the second pack of Flaming Hot Cheetos she'd bought with her future self in mind (she was patting herself on the back for that one, of course).

She strolled over to the business office on her floor with a pen in her mouth, still humming along to her long-abandoned music, as Ashley had requested that she fax over her handwritten notes from both nights of debates -- she'd called down to the front desk to ask first if they had a fax machine. She hadn't intended to get out of bed if she didn't have to.

Balancing her notes across the keyboard of her laptop in one arm, she opened the door to the office, eyes still fixated on the screen of her computer as she pushed the door with her shoulder. When she looked up, she was met with more than just a printer and a fax machine.

His nose was no longer buried in the book he held on his lap, seemingly distracted by the sound of the door opening, and he had his sweatpant-clad legs propped up on the desk before him, his glasses discarded on the table next to him. She froze when their eyes met.

"Y/N," Jefferson said, looking as stunned as she felt. She blinked. A beat passed. She almost responded, before she remembered the pen she still held in her mouth, continuing into the room and letting the door click shut behind her so that she could put her papers down. "Shit, uh... I can leave if you need the room, or--"

"No, no, you're fine." She finally took the pen out from between her teeth, withdrawing her papers from her laptop, closing it atop the desk. "But I can, ah, come back, if--"

"No, 'course not." He gave her a soft grin, fiddling with the page of his book. "Seems like you're the only one who actually needs the room, anyway."

She returned his smile, though hesitantly, feeling awkward to be alone with him in the small space. "Thanks."

She began shuffling her papers into the fax machine one by one, and the silence grew heavy. She tried not to feel the need to fill it. Yet--

"What brought you here, anyway?" She glanced back at him over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised and found his gaze still trained on her. She shifted her weight, and he chuckled.

"Just tryin' to escape."

She furrowed her brow, not sure if she understood, and another moment passed as she fed her last paper into the fax machine. Now she just had to play the waiting game (which was unfortunately long, considering the number of papers Ashley demanded). "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, lifting his feet off the desk's edge as he leaned forward to rest his forearms atop his legs. "Just needed a moment to myself. I'm sharin' my room here with James, and since I started runnin' for president it hasn't been easy to find some time alone."

She nodded, glancing down at the book in his hand, and grinned. "And you're spending that time reading?"

"You got any better ideas for me?" He raised a playful eyebrow when she turned to lean against where the wraparound desk met the back of the incredibly small room. She only shrugged.

"Could spend this time cleaning up your entire political platform," she suggested, and he laughed.

"Now you're just baitin' me."

"Never!"

He rolled his eyes as he turned the office chair to face her. "Now tell me why I don't believe you."

"Beats me." She plastered on an innocent smile, ultimately pursing her lips, though, to stifle her grin.

"Mhm." He shook his head in amusement, wide grin adorning his lips as he looked down once again, thumbing the nearest page of his book. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Whatcha reading?"

"Nietzsche." He held up the book, showing her the name scrawled across the cover and the spine.

"Zarathustra? Really?" She eyed the book with a wary gaze, and his eyebrows shot toward his hairline, amused.

"Don't tell me you've read it?"

"It seems we have annoyingly similar taste in literature, Secretary Jefferson." She grinned. "Can I get past you to the printer real quick?"

"Hm? Oh, 'course." He glanced over his shoulder, standing and taking a step over immediately as he realized the chair was situated directly in front of where she needed to be. She thanked him softly as she moved past him to collect her newly-inked papers. There was a skip; he hesitated.  "So it's back to Secretary Jefferson now, huh?"

She looked over to where he stood beside her, eyebrows raised and heat creeping up the back of her neck. The look in his eyes was expectant, but not demanding. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," he said, wearing a small, almost comforting smile, and she couldn't help but return it, before he added with a grin. "Thomas is better, though."

Despite the amusement in his eyes and the mischief dancing in his smile, Y/N let out a sigh as she pushed herself onto the counter beside the fax machine. "I'm sorry, I really just--"

"I know. 'M sorry. We don't have to get into it, if you don't wanna."

She paused as she met his eyes. The understanding tone he was taking now felt like a far cry from how he'd been earlier in the day, but sitting alone with him in that hotel business office after hours, both of them out of their suits and into their sleepwear, joking about his reading material, she felt like she was just then seeing him clearly. "I..." She gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"You never responded to my message on Twitter, though," he continued, a grin once again breaking across his face, and she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "C'mon, don't pretend, I saw that you read it."

"Lafayette was out of line!" she defended, "God, he was asking for advice on what he should say to you because he was worried, and somehow I became his advisor, and I literally just told him to ask you what was wrong. I wasn't trying to pry after avoiding you the past few days."

"I kinda figured, after Laf's next couple messages. Basically told me you were chewin' him out for askin' that," he laughed, but raised an eyebrow as he met her eyes. "But you admit you were avoidin' me, though, huh?"

"I--" She paused, mouth open to respond, and eyebrows raised, but she didn't know how to respond. The question caught her entirely by surprise. "I guess so, yeah."

Her face burned as he chuckled lightly, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She bit her lip, folded her arms across her chest. "Don't act like it's some big confession, now; it was kinda obvious. You said all of three words to me in the elevator, shut me down when you were talkin' to Lafayette, and then today, at the debate?" He raised an eyebrow, seemingly enjoying watching her squirm. She didn't look up at him. "Now, that was the most obvious of all. You read my message, made direct eye contact with me, and then were still the first one outta the building. You aren't subtle, sweetheart."

She sighed, crossed her ankles where she sat on the counter, and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I guess that's fair," she sighed, finally looking up at him, and he didn't say a word, waiting for her to continue. He cocked an expectant eyebrow. "Just, after the state dinner, and what happened -- or really, what almost happened," she sighed, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "I really didn't wanna talk to you, or know how to, and I'm sorry, I just-- What would I have said? What was I supposed to say? 'So, I know I, like, almost let you kiss me three weeks ago, but now I'm gonna grill you about fiscal policy on national television! Isn't that fun?'" She plastered on an exaggerated smile, mocking the hypothetical, and he laughed.

"That would've been a good start." She rolled her eyes, bit her lips, and his smile softened. "Could've at least let me talk to you, though."

She sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I should've, but I think I just scared myself into thinking talking to you meant my immediate demise."

"Now, that offends me a little," he teased, "I'm nothin' if not approachable, and I don't like hearin' you suggest otherwise."

She pursed her lips as she met his eyes. "Oh, of course. The Republican presidential frontrunner, who's always surrounded by people much more important than me, and is never seen in public without an entourage. The easiest to talk to." He didn't comment on the thinly veiled confession of insecurity contained in her dry sarcasm, but instead raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't I?" His tone, his wide grin both seemed to suggest that he was joking, but something in how he looked at Y/N made her breath catch.

"Yeah," she said, softly, "I guess you are." She swallowed, looking down at her feet, and the only sound reverberating through the little room was the cranking of the aging fax machine that still held her notes. The hush that fell over them only stretched on.

"Can I just--"

"I wanted to--"

They both looked up at once, though, voices overlapping as they chose the same moment to break the silence, and Thomas grinned. Y/N let out a light laugh. "You can go first."

"Yeah?" he asked, hesitant. She nodded, shooting him a wink.

"The floor is yours."

"Much appreciated." They shared an anticipatory glance, the tension in the room magnified by the close proximity the little space had pushed them into. They weren't even feet apart. "Anyway, I just, at least, wanna apologize."

Y/N quirked up an eyebrow. "What for?"

"The state dinner." She sighed heavily, raking a hand through her hair, and he continued, "C'mon, don't pretend there's nothin' to talk about there. I can't let myself ignore it, so I'm sorry." She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from squirming under his gaze, afraid to break the eye contact as he searched her expression. "Seemed like I scared you that night, and I wanna make sure I didn't make you feel unsafe, or uncomfortable, or... Just felt like I put you in a bad position, or made you feel like you couldn't leave because of me, since I was still the Secretary of State and all, and..." He trailed off as he saw Y/N raise an amused eyebrow, failing to stifle a grin at his words, and hardly stifling a laugh. He huffed, but there was no real frustration behind his smile. "Gimme a break, it's happened!"

"What, you've cornered other hot reporters in your office and leveraged your title against them?" she teased, and he rolled his eyes, cracking a grin.

"I usually go for hot Congresswomen, but none were around, so I figured you'd have to do."

"You've tried to stick it on Nancy Pelosi?" she asked in mock disbelief, and he laughed, carding a hand through his hair, "Can I quote you on that?"

"May wanna keep it off the record, just this once." He winked, and she couldn't help her light huff, playful disappointment mingling with amusement. He pursed his lips. "But seriously, Y/N, hope I didn't scare you."

"No sweat, Thomas, I don't scare easy." She gave him a soft smile, and he raised a brow, surprised to hear her using his first name again, but he held his tongue. She swallowed thickly, realizing it at the same time. "I'm not about to become your Monica Lewinsky, if that's what you're worried about -- you didn't put me in any position I didn't wanna be in." Her last few words had even her taking pause, surprised at having said them aloud. It felt more like a confession than a reassurance, and with that, Thomas's brows shot toward his hairline, and a small smirk rested on his lips. Y/N could feel her heart in her throat as she waited for him to respond.

"'I didn't put you in any position you didn't wanna be in,' huh?" he repeated slowly, his smug smile growing as her eyes slowly began to widen; she didn't like watching him take pleasure in this.

"I--" She cut herself off as he took a step toward her, pushing herself further back where she sat on the edge of the desk. "Yeah," she breathed, worried that her heart would beat out of her chest if she said much more.

"So--" One of his hands landed beside her on the desk as his stare became increasingly self-contented, "What if you ended up in that position again, hm?" His other large hand came to rest on her right knee; he was now hovering just inches above her, and her pulse threatened to stop altogether as she looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Thomas," she said softly, biting her lip, and she couldn't help but notice him track the movement, his gaze falling momentarily to her mouth. His hand lifted from her knee to her jaw, brushing a hair away from her face before running his thumb along her cheekbone, cupping her cheek. "What are you doing?" she asked, breathlessly.

"This time, is it a position you don't wanna be in?" he asked, the hand that previously sat on the desk now meeting her waist, pulling her closer to him. Something about his smile told her that he was confident in what her answer would be. He raised an eyebrow.

"What..." Her voice faltered as he pulled her into him, her legs now straddling his waist from atop the desk, and she prayed he didn't catch it when her gaze fell to his lips, if only for a moment. (The way he grinned told her he'd definitely caught it.) He stilled millimeters away from her lips, and the movement wasn't even conscious as her arms wrapped around his neck. "Thomas."

He smiled, his nose brushing against hers, and he couldn't help that his grin grew when she shivered at the contact. "Y/N," he whispered, too close even to make out her full face, but he could see every detail of her shining eyes clearly, could trace every ridge of her lips.

She was terrified. Every nerve in her body seemed to be standing on end, and she could feel everything. Even the slightest movements made her pulse jump -- the pads of his fingers digging into her waist, his breath as it fluttered across her cheek, him pulling her impossibly closer, yet still, not quite close enough. She swallowed hard, looking into his eyes. "Kiss me."

He obliged her immediately, his hand gripping her jaw as his lips moved against hers, and she reacted in the same moment. One of her hands weaved itself into his hair, while the other sank into the back of his old college t-shirt. His tongue pushed insistently past her lips, and she arched against him in an effort to pull him ever closer, pushing herself toward the edge of the desk. His hand slid down to hook itself under her thigh, and his grip tightened on her leg as she sighed against him. He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth, but nearly lost it when he yanked at her hair, and she let out a soft, needy whine against his mouth -- the kiss immediately became harsher, faster; in seconds it was all teeth and tongue. Y/N didn't know when his lips had begun to trail down her neck, didn't realize his hands began to tug at her shirt until she felt his fingers brush against her stomach, and she shuddered. She gasped as he scraped his teeth over the base of her neck, sucking a hickey into the skin, and she rolled her hips involuntarily up against his. He groaned against her.

"Fuck," she whispered as his hands finally breached the hem of her shirt, pressing into the bare skin of her waist, and she dragged her nails down across his back, feeling his muscles rippling in his shoulders as he pulled her harshly against himself.

"Shit, sweetheart." She yanked at his hair, began kissing along his jawline, grinding her hips persistently up against his. "Y/N," he groaned, his nails beginning to dig directly into her hips. Her movements faltered a moment. She swallowed.

It must have been then that she came to her senses. She couldn't have placed exactly when, or why she broke it off, but it must have been when she heard her name out of his mouth, against her skin, when she realized exactly where she was. She pulled back from him, gasping for air, her hands against his chest, and he raised his eyebrows.

"What...?" he breathed, equally winded, "What's wrong? Did I do somethin'?"

Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, shaking her head slowly, but her expression was despairing, the gravity of the situation just then beginning to sink in.

"I..." She trailed off, letting out a huff as she ran a hand through her hair, "No, no, it... it's not you, but..." She pulled further back, pushing him gently away as she broke out of his grasp. The look in his eyes was worried, but more so disappointed. "We can't do this, Thomas. Fuck, this was a mistake. What were we thinking? I just--"

She groaned softly, burying her face into her hands before hopping off of the desk, scrambling to collect her laptop and her papers. His eyes widened as she began to rush to leave the room.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart!" He grabbed ahold of her arm as she began to turn away, and she yanked it from his fingers. "Y/N, c'mon, wait a minute."

"This can't happen! Don't you get it?" she said. "This was so fucking stupid. I'm a political journalist, Thomas, and you're running for President, for God's sake! Can you imagine what would happen if we hooked up? If that somehow leaked?"

"Wait, be reasonable--"

"I'd become the next fucking Monica Lewinsky, and there goes your campaign, and there goes my career. Next I get accused of biased reporting, and you get accused of foul play with the media." She shook her head, shuffling her papers together as she turned to leave. "I'm sorry. I... I'm so sorry, this was such a mistake."

"Y/N." His voice was steady, but firm. "Listen to me: no one's losin' their career, no one's life is shatterin' because of this. Relax, darlin'. Leave if you want to, but relax. I'm not gonna try to make you stay."

She hesitated as he rested his hands on her biceps, as they ghosted down her arms. He smiled. "Don't get me wrong, you're more than welcome to stay, but I won't hold it against you if you don't."

"I can't do this, Thomas," she breathed, and he chuckled. Despite his small smile, and despite what genuinely were his best efforts, disappointment clouded his gaze, and he did a poor job of hiding it.

"Okay. Then go." His voice was soft, gentle. "If you ever change your mind, though, just know that I'm the only one with access to my Twitter messages. You know how to reach me if you want to." He grinned as he said that, and Y/N’s eyes widened. Did he just offer himself up as a booty call?

The thought had her breath hitching in the back of her throat. The look in his eyes told her that he was being perfectly sincere.

"I'm sorry,” she finally said, voice only just above a whisper, and he nodded.

"Don't worry about it.” There was a skip. “I'll see you soon, Y/N.”

“Bye, Thomas.” She held his gaze a moment longer, struggling to bring herself to leave, but knowing she couldn’t stay. He sent her a wink, and she finally began to move.

She was out the door without another word, her breathing shaky as she rushed back to her hotel room. She was desperate to immediately open her phone, to text Angelica or Alex, but shit, if that wouldn't ruin her life. Angelica would find some way to convince her to quit her job, or somehow weasel her way out of her assignment on the 2020 election, and Alex would be worse yet -- he'd take it straight back to Thomas and confront him.

She groaned into her hands as she walked into her bathroom. A cold, cleansing shower was what she needed at that moment. The first thing she saw as she walked into the bathroom, though, was a deep purple hickey, at the base of her neck; she'd be covering that up for weeks, she thought as she drew closer to the mirror, running a hand over it as she examined the area. Yet, it also left her with several 'what if's -- what if she hadn't stopped it? What if she were to let this happen? What if, for once in her life, she stopped worrying, let herself live, took a risk?

What if she'd decided to stay?

She met her own eyes in the mirror as she entertained the thought, and she swallowed roughly.

[thehollowprince]

1/2 complete fabrications made up by fanon to make a character same more likeable or relatable or to simply usurp Scott’s role as the titular hero, the Teen Wolf // Unlike Scott Stans, Stiles & Derek fans don’t need to erase canon or rewrite our favs as a completely different characters than they are in the actual show in order to make them more likable or relatable: they already are. So much that even ur whiny, bitter, OBSESSED fav Posey keeps gushing all over Stiles and Dylan O’Brien’s acting

2/2 completely unprompted and openly admitted that he wanted to play Derek because he was jealous of Sterek/Hobrien and desperately wanted Teen Wolf fans to ship Stiles with HIS character Scott instead. So yeah: if you think that Teen Wolf fans and viewers are ‘racist’ for preferring objectively talented actors and unique fictional characters to your bland, whiny, boring, toxic, irrelevant fav Tyler Posey/Scott McCall, then Tyler Posey must be the racist of them all. 🤷🏽🤷🏽🤷🏽

I worry about you, I really do. It can't be healthy for your mind to be this obsessed with how other people view 1: a fiction character, and 2: an actor you've never met and probably will never meet.

Like, are you okay? Seriously?

Because if you actually watched the show there's no way you can write all of those things and not understand how racist your being by going out of your way to remove any kind of context just so that you can paint the brown boy as a horrible, evil person. A brown boy you later go on to describe as bland and boring. I mean, which is it? He's either evil or he's boring? I'm getting mixed signals here.

I mean, the very thought that Stiles and Derek fans don't erase canon and rewrite it to makes them look better is so laughable that I'm actually kind of nauseous. I really do wonder what fandom you interacted with, because it wasn't the Teen Wolf fandom that I saw on Tumblr.

Tyler liking Dylan's acting isn't news to anyone. They were best friends both on screen and off. Do you not support your friends?

Althoughthat does bring us to the weird part of these asks. I'm seriously confused as to where and why Hoechlin and O'Brien came into this "conversation"? I never mentioned them. But this all just goes to further prove that you seem to have this mindset that if anyone likes Scott/Posey, then obviously they must hate Stiles/O'Brien and Derek/Hoechlin. That's not how that works. I can like Tyler Posey and Scott McCall without it reflecting negatively on the other two.

You do understand that, right? Please tell me you understand that?

I actually really like Hoechlin, and since we're speaking objectively, I can say with all honesty that I don't think that O'Brien is all that and a bag of potato chips the way some of you do.

As for all your other bullshit, please supply me with links to where Posey said all this stuff about wanting to play Derek and get in on Sterek, because I don't remember anything like that happening. I remember him dissing Sterek (in a way too polite for some of you) because he got tired of being constantly harassed by fans over a crack ship.

But we've already gone round and round on that one, so well just slide right past that and address your accusations against Scott's character.

We recognize that it was extremely OOC for Scott to do so we turn to canon to try and find some reasoning behind that move within the context of the story. Otherwise, such an incident doesn’t make any sense / Scott assaulting someone out of jealousy is neither OOC nor an isolated accident, though. Canon Scott McCall repeatedly assaulted Jackson over Allison, violated a rape victim’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent, mind-raped Corey, used Hayden as bait against without her consent, etc...

Scott threw down with Jackson when the latter was physically/sexually assaulting Allison at the time. Or did you block that out of your mind? Yes, it was actually what's-his-name that was controlling Jackson, but Scott didn't know who it was at the time. Should he have just let Jackson-not-Jackson continue? No, because then you'd be hear telling me how Scott did nothing while his girlfriend was assaulted.

You people really are a case of "damned if you do, damned if you don't". You are fully committed to twisting anything and everything Scott ever did paint him in a negative light.

I honestly don't know which "rape victim" you're referring to, but here's a better analysis of what Scott did to Corey which is better than anything I could come up with. Full credit to @princeescaluswords

Per the Hayden thing, where was this outrage when Stiles stole a police vehicle to hold a kidnapped Jackson in? When he killed Donovan? When he illegally made copy keycards for the police station despite knowing it could cost his dad his job? The time he purposely got his father drunk so that he could find out more about a murder case that he had no right to? How about the fact that he knew Lydia's body size without ever having really talked to her before? What about him trusting Theo? What about him assaulting Scott after he had literally died?

What about Derek taking advantage of three emotionally compromised teenagers in order to build up his own strength and then pretty much abandoning them when they didn't worship him as alpha? What about him physically assaulting a bunch of teenagers more than once?

I'm not making these up. They're all there if you actually watched the show.

All of these characters have done morally questionable things throughout the course of the show to beat the bad guys, but for some reason its only the brown boy that's being held to such a ridiculously high standard.

Hmmm? I wonder why that is? 🤔

Does it explain why Scott threw Isaac? No. There is no excuse for what Scott did, but the ritual that awoke the Nemeton does offer an explanation. And see, that’s the difference between you and me, in that I understand the difference between an explanation and an excuse / Your fabricated and already debunked “the Nemeton made him do it!” crap sounds an awful lot like an excuse for Scott’s canonical shitty actions and violent behavior tbh. Even Posey said that Scott abused Isaac out of jealousy

I really don't have time to again explain to you the difference between an explanation and an excuse. I've never excused what Scott did to Isaac. It's actually one of the few times I didnt like him, which is why I looked for any reason as to explain that reaction. It's not perfect, but it is plausible.

The funniest thing about all of these to me is that you are very clearly a Sterek shipper who worships those two characters and tears down Scott in an attempt to boost them up, but in canon, Stiles and Derek were two of Scott's biggest supporters/cheerleaders. So, y'know, sleep well knowing the characters you love were big fans of a character you hate.

I mean, that's so sweet it has to be fattening.

[many-gay-magpies]

Smh i should really stop talking to my mom about anxiety/mental stuff because every time it only makes me feel worse

I love my mom a lot but like . sometimes there are just things that get on my nerves even though i love her. I kinda feel bad because like she tries so hard to understand and says she understands and I know she DOES to a degree so I feel bad for lowkey thinking like the whiny teenager all like "yOu DoN't UnDeRsTaNd Me" sometimes, y'know? Like the bottom line is our brains just work really really differently a lot of the time and she either wants to believe or genuinely believes that they dont

Every time I talk to her about my (non-clinical, probably) anxiety and what caused it (this girl bullying me for six years) she goes on to mention all the ways she was bullied as a kid and all the terrible shit she's gone through to say in the end "so I understand" when like all of that shit is way different from my experience so every time she says it inside I'm just like "yes but actually no"

Like, today i was talking about my bully to her and how I've started realizing that all my responses now are responses i was forced to give as a kid because of the situation i was in with my bully, and she went in depth and told me (all stuff she had already told me about before and also when i had been talking about my anxiety stuffs before) about how her mom forced her to sleep in curlers so she would have banana curls and made her wear dresses and how she got mugged really bad when she was older and all this stuff that is very valid trauma and sucks ass and i thank her for trying to understand me but at the same time all the shit that happened to her was surface level. Neither of us could control what was happening to us, because her mom made her dress like that and I couldn't just make this girl suddenly not have issues, but like a dress is still something you can change??? Take off??? Like it isnt attatched to you as a person. I cant change the fact that i exist, which this girl bullying me apparently hated me for. To her my existence was just like "oh i must hurt this person" not because of what i wore, what i looked like, etc etc.

She also kept subtly bringing up the fact that i had never been PHYSICALLY hurt by my bully and implying that because she HAD her pain was worse and i could have had it worse if my bully physically hurt me and ACTED on the threats to hurt me (which my mom's bullies did) and while yes that was true . My bully didn't threaten to physically hurt me at all so there were no threats TO act on she just talked to me like i was shit all the time and beat my self esteem about my personality into a meaningless pulp . I kind of wanted to scream in my moms face "YOUR PAIN WAS MOSTLY PHYSICAL WHILE MINE WAS EMOTIONAL, BOTH ARE VALID AND DIFFERENT" but i know she does know that-- but maybe it would have gotten the point across idk

I wish so badly that i could just tell my mom "I dont want/need you to understand, i just need you to be here" and like i could but . I'm not there yet

(Warning ahead, I'm sorry if this gets really long but like I wanna get it off my chest before i go to sleep bcs i feel like ill sleep better if i do)

Another thing that annoys me is that??? Every time??? I say something??? Or tell her how I'm feeling at the moment??? She just asks me??? "Why?"??? And yes its good to talk about stuff but I'm trying to explain to you in a polite way why i want to leave the conversation and that its making me uncomfortable and i just want to go to bed and you just go "but why are you uncomfortable?" Or like if i tell her I'm upset and i want to stop talking about it she goes "why are you upset? I dont want you to be upset" and I'm just. I literally just said i dont want to talk about this anymore can i please leave you cant control that I'm upset about this because continuing talking to you is just going to make me more upset because no matter what way i try to explain it i cant get my points across right to you and i dont want to say you dont understand bcs thats immature but you kind of dont understand

I want to tell her "This conversation isnt having the outcome i wanted it to have and i want to leave it before it makes me more upset so that i can go think on it for later" but I'm sure if i do. that shed just go "but WHY arent you happy with the conversation tell me so i can fix it" and if i tell her blatantly what is making me unhappy (the fact that she keeps saying she understands and pouring stories of her traumas onto me to "prove" that she understands) then she's going to guilt trip me when were talking in the future by emphasizing the fact that i dont like when she talks a certain way and be all like "oh i wont tell you about my OWN experiences though because you said you don't LIKE when I DO that" and i just hhhhhh

Like every time i tell her she doesnt understand and try to explain it in a way that she WILL and it'll finally click it just. Doesn't and it makes me feel so defeated because every time i do that she just circles back around to "well i experienced all these types of trauma so i totally understand" and i appreciate the effort but that just isnt the kind of support i needed to make me feel content

And also when i was talking to her tonight i told her about a specific instance that happened in like 1rst or 4th grade where I was crying because the girl bullying me was just in one of those. Bad Moods™ where like she hated me for existing and talked to me like i was a piece of trash she had stepped in or smth and then she and a couple other kids asked me WHY I WAS CRYING and I didn't want to tell her "hey I'm crying because you keep hurting me and i dont want you to" because if i said that she would just hurt me MORE so i made up a lie on the spot and said that my parents had a small argument (I'm a sensitive kid and will cry at the barest hint of conflict between my parents so it checked out) and i was crying because of it and . Out of that ENTIRE STORY the one thing my mom zeroed in on was the fact that i told a lie that "painted my parents in a bad light"

Just. Like. Yeah. It did. But I wasn't even thinking about that at the moment?? Like it didn't even cross my mind??? The only thing i was thinking about was that i was scared and in danger and i probably would have said anything to get OUT of that danger (as fake or ill-perceived it might have been). But no, even later on after i had explained that in basically those exact words she still went back around to say "oh if it was bad enough that you told a lie about your parents to get out of it then she REALLY fucked you up"

Which??? By the way??? Is a whole other reason why i try not to talk to my mom about this shit??? Because every time i open up about it and want to have a conversation in a more logical/organized/"well here's the situation and here's what we can do about it" kind of way she always turns it around and says stuff like "damn [REDACTED] really fucked you up didn't she" and "I didn't know it was that bad"/"I didn't know it effected you that bad, you should have said something!" which. Makes me Feel Bad™, for some reason way more than my dad excitedly talking about reptile and monkey brains and how stuff that happened to us in the past is engrained into our brain and still effects us now, like instinct

She also always turns all of my stuff talking about emotions into "oh you're just a teenager" "you're pms'ing" "you'll grow out of it later"

Like one time i told her that her mind was always in the past or the future, always worrying about the past or the future, never in the present, in response to her worrying a bunch about something and how i had my mind in the present more often and her response was something along the lines of "well you're like that because you're young and a teenager, you CAN stay thinking in the present because you dont have all that stuff to worry about like an adult does, I'm an adult and i work a bunch so i constantly have stuff to worry about" and like. Yeah theres some solidity to that. But also i literally talked about that exact thing with my dad and HE said her brain was always in the past/future and never the present so I'm pretty sure its not just a teen vs adult thing

And then towards the end of this whole thing when i had finally managed to tell her "hey I'm uncomfortable in this conversation can i please leave and go to bed" and even further explained that it was because i went into this wanting to have a more casual/logic-based talk rather than an emotional discussion and . she's kind of of the mind that "why did you bring it up if you didn't want to have a deep emotional discussion about it" and I'm just HHHNNNNGGGG but also i actually DIDNT mention it, first i was mentioning how id been having sensory overload lately and how certain sounds of words hurt and then she said i should have a doctor check that out and then i said "I've been reading up on anxiety and sensory overload is a part of that so i figured that's just what it was" (bcs my dad gets sensory overload a lot too) which then ensued a ten-minute conversation about how i probably dont have clinical anxiety because mine isnt as bad as/like all the many, many people my mom has known who DO have it (throughout which i kept trying to tell her "just social anxiety exists too tho" to which she would respond "yea but u dont have these symptoms of general anxiety so i dont think u have it" and while i hope and think i dont i was just like HHHHHHH because i mean social anxiety and by social anxiety I DO NOT MEAN GENERAL ANXIETY YOU CAN HAVE SOCIAL ANXIETY WITHOUT HAVING GENERAL at least i think idk i might be wrong) which i ended by saying "i probably dont have clinical anxiety but i do believe my brain has been wired to react to certain situations based on how i had to react to those situations for six years" which then lead to me talking more about my bully and my mom pretty much siphoning as much emotional vulnerability and opening up out of me as she could

And then at the end i told her "can i please leave i kind of feel like crying and i dont want to do it in front of a person at the moment" (because I haven't cried in a few months and i feel like I'm in need of a good cry tbh which in itself is something she doesnt really understand) which lead her to go "why do you feel like crying now I'm worried for you" and HHHHHHEBDJBEHNDEJHBDNEHDBEH yeah--

There's probably more i could say but I'm not going to, because its almost 1 am and while i had actually been about to sleep early at like ten she ended up roping me into an hour or two long talk about emotions, which is. Fun. And i have to get up in six hours so I'm going to go to bed. Sorry if this was a mess which I'm sure it is, i really just needed to get this out there lol

Also when i went to my dad after this to say goodnight (i actually like talking to my dad abt this stuff a lot since his brain and mine are just really similar) he gave me this lil smile and just said "deep breaths" and that made me feel better

[minichedders]

flame

mobster!tom holland x reporter!reader

"With crime and terror constantly ruling the streets, the only question left to ask ourselves is; will we ever be free from the Holland crime family?"

-Y/N Y/L/N

Thomas read the back printed words with his teeth grinding and jaw clenched; this was the third report in the month that Y/H had written about him and his mob, and with this much attention from the public eyes, police force and FBI, it was too risky for his business to move around discreetly, even with all the secret eyes and rats within the goverment forces. Tom was annoyed that his generational crime family business was being tethered by one female reporter with a cocky, nosy attitude. 

Although Tom had gathered all information and pictures about you and often got his men to follow you so you arrived home safe late nights, he couldn't help but feel an angered attraction towards you, of course, the idea of you writing about him and opening your mouth to spread news made his blood boil, but the soft delicate skin and kind eyes that you had made his heart thump, not to mention how you looked in your gala dresses and office outfits. Now, Tom's thoughts were drifting in the idea of watching you tonight at the gala, you no doubt would be there, trying to worm yourself in more gossip and dramas within the London crime families; and no doubt you would be wearing one of your infamous red dresses that adorned your perfect figure.

"Aye mate! hurry up daydreamer, limos here," Harrisons said, busting the door open only to leave just after. Tom let out a short sigh, taking a final puff from his ashed cigarette and popping a mint into his mouth before leaving his dark marron office to join his best man in the long sleek black vehicle.

"Is she going to be there?" Tom asked, or grunted in Harrison's direction, leaving the blonde man to laugh in response. The affection that Tom had towards you was insanely deep, even if the words you wrote caused the heeps of trouble.

"Why don't you just admit that your head over heels for her mate?" Harrison laughed again, watching the city lights ass by in the window, sipping n the tall flute glass of champagne.

"Because I'm not, you fucking twit," Tom responded with a rather harsh bite, but the outburst only made Harrison chuckle more to himself, as they drove the rest of the way to the Gala in silence.

-

There you were, standing directly in the centre of the ballroom, all eyes and lights seemingly focusing around you laughed with a group of men and women talking about nothing imparticular whilst your hand tightly grasped the liquid bubbles. During the dull conversation, your eyes continuously wondered around the room, searching for any stories or dramatic people to write up next weeks storyline about, and when you found the man you wanted, you couldn't help the smirk that rose on your painted lips as you downed the last remaining glass of bubbles.

Toms eyes where focused on you as you watched each other across the room. The cross back red fishtail maxidress floated around your feet, the lighting making your hair glow against your skin and the gentle makeup making your eyes scream out at Tom, almost controlling his movements as you stared him up and down. It wasn't long before Tom had reached you on the dancefloor, both your hearts reaching out to each other, eyes trained on each other and your fingers shaking in anticipation to touch him.

The idea of the infamous rough and tough Tom Holland holding you gentle and passionately drilling into you all night made your head dizzy and stomach flip with excitement, however, your entire workforce and operation against the Holland crime family would be destroyed, as well as your professional matter and reputation; but the closer Tom came to you, the more professionally flew out the window.

"Miss Y/L/N," Tom spoke in his low, gentle voice. And you weren't sure if it was the heels or his effect on you, but your knees almost stumbled and gave way to your weight as soon as you heard his voice.

"Holland," You bit back, trying to keep a stern face and attitude whilst he was standing so close to you. "Hows that illegal gun ammunition trade going with Greece?" You smirked, getting under his skin easily as you saw his jaw clench leaving you beyond flustered.

"It would be fine if you kept your big nose out of my business, darling," The words few like venom out of his mouth, and a touch of sadness could be seen in your eyes if you looked closely enough, which Tom did.

"I think you forget it's my job, darling," You replied, huffing and beginning to turn to walk away; but Toms' hand reached out to yours, pulling you in close, wrapping his arms around your waist, a huge cocky grin plastered on his face.

"Dance with me," He demanded, leaving you to roll your eyes, but nonetheless comply to his wishes. The two of you stayed together in silence for a while, one of your hands leaning against his shoulder, and the other resing n the peck of his chest, as he remained on the lower stretch of your back, touching your bare skin from the low cut back dress, and dangerously low. You tried to avoid his gaze by searching the room, taking notice of Toms men dotted around the outskirts, conveniently blocking the exits, but Toms' eye pulled you in like a temptress.

"Your bushing you know," Tom said slowly, his sensual voice once again affecting your body. You had already felt the heat in your checks rise the first time you had caught Tom's eye, but ow you were close and touching, they had burned considerably brighter.

"It's just hot, don't flatter yourself," You scoffed, you were building a wall, protecting yourself from seeming gullible and week in front f his tough mobster exterior.

"Oh sugar," To leaned in, his face close to yours, his hot, minty breath against your skin as goosebumps rose to the surface of your skin, "you look fucking ravishing,"

The comment had left you stunned, as you turned your head to avoid his leaning kiss, capturing eyes with Toms best man, Harrison, who was standing and watching the two of you smirking, making you feel more conscious about the proximity between you and Tom. You didnt reply to him, and instead dug your pointed fingernails into his chest causing him to loosen his grip as you slipped away quickly, rushing to the bathroom before you could explode.

Rushing through the white door into the pristine dark marble bathroom, you clutched your hand at your chest, wishing you could solve the itch that felt deep in your chest. You pulled out your mobile phone from under your breast, calling your best friend and co-worker.

"Fucking help me, babe, I'm in some deep shit here," You spoke before your friend could even answer. You know this was a risk, every event that you bumped into Tom this happened, well not the dancing, but the butterflies, dizziness, and headaches that he gave you. It was a dangerous compromise, to be infatuated with the man you swore to yourself to destroy. The irony was laughing in your face and you were blinded to its harsh words.

"Ahhh, Tom Holland is it? I told you, you just need to fuck, get all that pent up energy out of your system, and then write about how shit he was in bed," Your friend replied, munching on a packet of crips through the line. You rolled your eyes once more, no matter how much you denied wanting to sleep with Tom, you knew she was right he was like a virus.

"Ugh, even if i wanted to fuck him, which i don't FYI, it would ruin my writing, i would be too biased," You replied, looking at your flushed cheeks in the mirror. dammit.

"Arent you already biased?" She said through the phone, filling the room with silence as you didnt know how to respond.

"Anyway, i bet he's a killer in bed if you don't take the shot i will," She said, making you internally cringe but laugh. You let out a deep sigh, looking down at your fingernails, painted dark maroon.

"He does look like the type to totally dominate you in bed, true, but-" You were quickly cut off by a hand grasping the phone from behind you, making you scream before another hand wrapped up to your mouth, preventing you from doing so. Your eyes widened as they met Toms reflection in the mirror, and even though your eyes dropped in realization, your body was still tense.

Toms' hand relaxed against your hand, as he dropped the phone harshly on the marble counter and using his now free hands to coax up and down your sides. He was aware of the effect he had on you, as he could see the reaction clearly in the mirror, as well as feel the tense muscles underneath the palms of his hands.

"You'd be so lucky to find out daring," Tom whispered in your ear, pulling the loose hair away from your neck, exposing the fresh skin to his lips as he grazed against it. You breathing was harsh and foreign, and you almost fainted as his mouth began to harshly suck onto the skin, your eyes closing and head falling back onto his shoulder to allow him easy access.

"Tom," His name fell from your lips, causing his grip on your waist to tighten and his body to grind against your slowly. The both of you moaned in response, the light echo surrounding you in the room, making you aware of your situation, you were allowing him to do this to you, but it felt too good to stop.

"Tom I- i can't do this," You whispered, your head and heart fighting with each other, not wanting the moment to stop.

"Yes you can Y/N," Tom said, and the sound of Tom whispering your name so explicitly and sensually made your knees week and your heart flutter.

"My job,"

"Quit. Be with me, you can start your own fucking business, id do anything for you," Tom said, continuing his attack on your neck as your eyes widened. You shoved your bum back, pushing him backwards, allowing you to turn around to face him, pushing your hand out to his chest and shoving him further.

"I don't need you to sort my life out y'know," You spat, furious but still needy at the same time, your body craving the hot contact Tom once fed you.

"Of course not darling," Tom said, taking your attacking wrists in his hands and holding you against the bathroom counter to keep you from hitting and shoving him again.

"But i can offer you your own company, own newspaper, the fucking world if you where with me Y/N," Tom moved closer, his body against yours, causing a catastrophic reaction in your lower belly.

"I'll think about it," You hated giving him control, especially over your work, but having your own business meant running your own thing, and not being controlled by forced segments, deadlines or topics you didnt even want to write about, and you could always buy it off Tom whenever you wanted.

"Good with me, now, let me kiss you," Tom demanded, leaning in again to capture your lips together in a feverish kiss. Fireworks erupted in your stomach as you grew needy and desperate for his touch, and you moved harder against him. You knee raised against his side, his rough hand running against the underside of your thigh, the thigh split letting his touch erupt your bare skin, his lips ground against you, the friction giving you enough, but not enough, you needed more.

You pawed at his chest, tugging off his suit jacket and rushing to undo his buttons before his hands caught yours.

"Say it first," He said.

"I'll be with you," You sighed, knowing full well you just handed over life to him. But you didnt care, you knew that you had a strong feeling for him, vice versa, and you were willing to sacrifice things for him, as he would for you, and together, you would be so fucking powerful.

"What a fine Queen you will make Y/N,"

-

taglist

mob!tom: @sweetenedangeltears

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 102 - Like the start of every hot-housewife p*rno I have ever seen

By mid-afternoon, Blake had deemed today as an utter wright-off.

The rain was lashing hard at the windows and a whistling wind seemed to blow an icy cold draft under every door, dropping the temperature inside the gloomy factory by several degrees.

There was no way she or any of the other Saviours could work in the garden for the rest of today. So instead, the caramel-blonde woman had relegated herself to doing something else that had taken her fancy on this cold, dark and stormy day.

And so, after heading back to her room an hour ago, ditching Danny around the corner (only needing him as far as the end of Negan's corridor to try and get a rise out of the dark-haired Saviour) Blake had hurriedly gotten dressed, flinging on a pretty flowery dress that tied at the waist and a pale blue button up sweater from her closet, and had soon, with a contented sigh, headed down to the marketplace and the stores, to pick up the items she required before bringing them back up here to her room on the second floor.

And now here she was….…making brownies.

Blake hadn't baked anything since waaaaay back before the start of all of this. And even then, that had been just a birthday cake for one of her colleagues at work, that David and his friends after coming home drunk one evening, had torn apart and devoured amongst themselves, before it had even reached her anyway.

Blake wasn't sure what had come over her.

Here she was…baking….like a good little wife. A sudden urge having overwhelmed her to make something sweet during this rare bit of spare time.

And so, after picking out the ingredients (perhaps a little selfishly) from the pantry, she had come up here and gotten to work.

Although Blake's intentions were not all that selfish, hoping that once she was done, she could go downstairs and share them with some of the lower-ranking Saviours, of which were mainly kids and older folk, in the dining hall later.

Her room had a small little kitchenette on one side, that Blake had not even touched since she had arrived here at the Sanctuary, the worktops gathering dust and the small powered oven never having even been switched on.

Even whilst living at Alexandria, Blake had only ever stuck to making easy dishes like pasta with sauce and eating heated canned goods where she could get it. After living out on the road and eating only basic scavenged rations and roadkill, finding even those bland foods too much for her stomach to handle.

Cooking wasn't exactly her forte, but hey, neither was gardening, and Blake had soon taken to that well enough.

But now the caramel-blonde woman was stood at her kitchen counter, mixing ingredients in a large bowl, as the window over to her right rattled a little with the carrying wind.

She pondered now what a winter in this place would be like.

The Sanctuary itself was large and built up, but certainly draughty at times, so it wasn't really a surprise to her that the wives had requested pants to wear. For really that wasn't that much to ask in this world, now was it?

Blake dwelled on the women a little now, wondering how their sore-heads had been this morning, and wondering whether Negan had been to see them as he had threatened to. She promised herself that she would make time to go see them later today and have a catch up.

But Blake, a little lost in thought, jumped now, as the door behind her was suddenly shoved open.

She hurriedly dropped her wooden spoon into the bowl with a small clatter and clutched a hand to her chest in fright, turning quickly to see Negan strutting through the door, without Lucille for once, but with a wide, arrogant, questioning grin, fixed onto his long, bearded face instead.

"Jesus, you gave me a fright," Blake breathed out, eyeing him with wide green orbs.

But Negan's own chocolate gaze flickered over her now, taking in every inch of Blake's appearance as well as the brownie ingredients spread out on the work surfaces behind her.

"Well this is where you are…" he growled, hovering in the doorway and lifting his chin as he surveyed her. "I have been searchin' high and low around this god-forsaken fuckin' place for you, and here you are all along, bakin' Daddy up some treats by the looks of it."

At his words Blake couldn't help but smirk, but even so, still rolled her eyes, turning her back on him now and picking up her spoon once again.

"These are not for you, Negan," she purred with a small sigh.

Behind her she head the door snap shut gently, as a pair of heavy boots crossed the room towards her.

She smiled to herself, in an instant feeling a warm trickle of breath on her neck and a possessive hand slip around her waist, pulling her backward into a tall and taut body.

"Hold your fuckin' horses there, Sweetheart," the dark-haired man murmured in an incredulous voice into her ear. "Cause', hell, this look like my goddamn shit your using to make them. So I think I am more than fuckin' entitled to take what I want."

Blake gave another hard sigh, stirring her ingredients and ignoring Negan's comment.

But it wasn't even another second later, that the leader of the Saviours spoke again, coming to rest his prickly bearded chin against her shoulder, as Blake leant back against him easily.

"Y'know I never had you down for the Martha Stuart type, Peaches," he hummed in a low voice, into her ear. "An' yet here. you. are, cookin' up a goddamn storm, and lookin' like the start of every hot-housewife porno I've ever seen."

Blake's lips twitched slightly, as she pulled her face back a little and turned her head, eyeing him.

"And I'm guessing you've seen a lot of them have you?" she uttered in an amused voice.

But Negan, looking as cocky as he ever did, merely widened his grin, showing off his set of white teeth as he did so.

"Oh fuckin' plenty, Darlin'," he chuckled, as Blake pursed her lips, tutting, as she turned away from him once more.

But from behind her, she felt Negan bounce slightly on his heels.

"But in fact, while we're on the subject of pornos," he said in giddy voice. "I have got Rick's ol' video camera upstairs that I thought we could make use of. Make a few home videos of our own if you catch my fuckin' drift.…"

But at once, Blake made a face, catching his drift indeed…

"Nu-uh, no way, Negan," she scoffed, batting his hands away from her as they playfully slid further around her middle squeezing at her tightly. "My job in building this big new world, is not going to be to make pornos with you, thank you very much!"

At this she heard Negan give a low grumbling growl into her ear.

"Suit your fuckin' self, Sweetheart," he tutted, suddenly and without warning, reaching around Blake now and swiping his finger into the bowl of mixture and bringing it up to his mouth, sucking it clean.

"Hey," she reprimanded, swatting at his hand with her own paw, as the dark-haired Saviour pressed his body further into her now.

"Mmmhmmm, now that shit tastes good," he mused, as Blake smiled to herself now, rolling her eyes a little.

God, he really could be such a pain in her ass sometimes…but even so, he made her happier than anyone else had made her in a very, very long time.

Her and David had never been like this….like two teenagers, caught up with each other, having fun…

With him it had always been serious…and barely even a few months into her relationship, David had moved in with her, almost treating her like his maid at times. It all getting way too serious, too fast.

So here, now…all this with Negan…it was like she could finally be happy, even in this screwed up world.

He made her feel protected and cared for, giving her everything she could ever want.

But why?

Did he really feel the same for her as what she felt for him?

It truly felt like it now.

But after years of being used and not seeing David for what he truly was, Blake didn't want to mess this up…overthink things…get in too deep and say the wrong thing.

So she held off, giving the tiniest of gulps now, and reaching for an awaiting baking tray, and easily pouring the chocolatey mixture into it.

Blake could feel Negan's dark eyes watching her every movement quietly. But the silence between the pair of them was not an uncomfortable one.

"You remember when you gave me this room?" she murmured conversationally after a long drawn out minute had passed them both by. "I thought it was some kind of trick at first…."

Negan grinned, pulling back a little and allowing Blake to bend down and place the tray of brownies into the oven, turning the dial.

"Pfft. Well I ain't a monster, an' I wasn' about to keep you locked downstairs in that fuckin' cell forever now was I?" he said in a carrying voice, as Blake shut the oven door, wiping her hands on a dishcloth and turning to face the dark-haired man now, pressing her back up against the counter top behind her. "I could see that it was never your fuckin' choice to come here in the first place. An' I wasn't about to stick you in a goddamn room with your asshole of a fi-an-ce."

Blake gave a small nod now, pursing her lips, remembering those less-than-fond memories.

"Well it's lucky you didn't…" she said in a quiet voice. "Because I think if David had gotten his way, I doubt I'd even be standing here right now. I'd probably be outside chained to that stupid fence with the rest of the dead."

That was the truth in her voice. Had things been different, had Negan not been here, Blake was likely be dead now by David's hand. And that alone was a scary thought.

But Negan, lowered his chin, pressing his own bearded lips together, looking slightly stern, the slightest of frowns darkening his brow as he pondered this.

"Well I'm fuckin' glad I made the right decision there…despite how much you smart-mouthed me to start with, Peaches," he said raising his eyebrows, and taking a small step into her now.

And at his words, Blake couldn't help but smile softly, parting her lips as she grazed his mouth with hers.

She kissed him gently, their lips parting and meeting again softly several times…making the most deliciously wet noises she had ever heard.

Before, giving a small sigh, Blake gently pulled away, turning back around in Negan's arms contently and making to clean up the kitchen counter top.

But Negan obviously had other plans, the caramel-blonde woman feeling him press a grin into her hair, as his hands skimmed down her thighs, before dragging them upwards once more, rumpling the hem of her dress as he went.

Blake, lifting her eyes dead-ahead of her now, gave a slow blink, knowing full-well where his hand was going to go to next.

And as predicated, it wasn't a second later, that she felt Negan glide his digits down between her legs, causing her to give a small gulp of delicious agony and lean back into him a little.

"Mmmm, well, shit….cotton fuckin' panties, huh?…" Negan commented in a low, excited, humming voice into her ear now. "I have got to say, Peaches, I am loving this new you…goin' from badass to wholesome in just a couple of hours. You are keepin' me on. my. toes, Sweetheart!"

Blake's lips curved into a grin, feeling his expert fingers now glide over her the fabric that lay in between her hot, wet pussy, reaching her aching clit and causing her to jolt slightly, giving a moan of need.

But Negan merely chuckled into her ear through Blake's mass of caramel hair, as her fingers tensed around the edge of the counter top.

God, she wanted him…

"You like that, Darlin'?" he growled out now. "Hmmm? Does my fuckin' girl want me to fuck her over this goddamn counter?"

And Blake could only manage a desperate nod now, as she closed her eyes feeling Negan reach beneath her dress and pull her panties down her legs in one swift and rough movement.

Fuck…..this had all happened pretty fast.

Not that Blake was complaining.

Negan's hand reached up again now, running his fingers over the sticky cream that coated her glazed cunt, giving a grunt into her ear, as his other hand fumbled at his own belt buckle hurriedly.

Blake parted her lips wetly, her stomach convulsing as two of Negan's fingers disappeared up inside her slit just for a brief moment, pumping into her, before he pulled them out, holding his cum-covered digits to her mouth.

"Lick it all up, there's a good fucking girl," he groaned out now, easing his finger into her mouth, as the sound of his zipper being undone carried though the room now. "Cause' I've got a feelin' you taste as good as those goddamn brownies."

And Blake did as she was told, hurriedly sucking both of Negan's fingers clean, one-by-one.

She tasted herself, acidic yet sweet, like oranges and honey, and gave a small moan as Negan removed his fingers from her mouth, hitching up her dress a little from behind.

"Bend over for me, Peaches," came another whisper from the dark-haired Saviour behind her now, which caused Blake to gulp, all the breath suddenly leaning her body, as she felt Negan position his stiff cock at her hot, wet entrance.

The pair of them really were instantiable…

Both of them with equally high sex drives, and equally desperate for one another.

But Blake obeyed Negan's request, lowering herself forwards against the kitchen worktop before her and presenting her ass for him, feeling his slide his dick in and out of her folds a couple of times precariously.

Before the caramel-blond woman gave a grunting whine, frowning slightly, as she felt Negan stretch her wide and enter her fully.

His hands were on her hips now, as he wavered for a brief moment, giving an audible gulp, obviously appreciating the sensation of being buried into her up to his hilt.

But it wasn't a couple of seconds later that Negan eased himself out, before slamming himself into her once more, causing Blake to close her eyes, letting out a harsh breath of air.

"Shit," Negan uttered bluntly, his breaths already ragged in his throat before they had barely begun, but even so, he persevered, pulling out before slowly thrusting into her again….and again….and again…..

Fuck….this was heaven.

Or maybe instead, a delectable sort of hell…with Blake bent over and Negan well and truly fucking her brains out.

She gasped out as Negan thrust into her harder now, building momentum.

The room was filled with hot pants, the sound of Negan's chinking belt, and the hot, slick sound of Negan's dick coated in Blake's juices as he slid it in and out of her tight pussy.

Her hand and elbows were pressed flat to the surface of the worktop and her eyes on the faux-marble top, dusted with flour, getting her pretty, floral dress a little messy.

But right now Blake didn't care, as another moan of utter pleasure left her pink and swollen lips.

Sex with Negan was not like any sex she had had before.

This was dirty and hot, and everything Blake had ever fantasized about

And the caramel-blonde woman couldn't help the frown that twitched between her brows, opening her mouth in an o-shape of utter pleasure, feeling her orgasm building.

As much as she loved taking control, sometimes it was certainly nice for Negan to just take exactly what he wanted from her…just bending her over and fucking her, unable to help himself. Wanting her just that badly.

"Nnnngggfff," he breathed out, Blake hearing the dark-haired Saviour lifting his closed eyes to the ceiling, as a gulp slid its way over his Adam's apple, obviously trying to hold off on cumming, as long as he possibly could.

But Blake couldn't.

And it wasn't even a minute later, that she whined out, her walls clenching around Negan's cock as her head fell forwards, her dragging across the floury surface beneath her.

Negan grunted at the sound she made, his grip on her hips and ass tightening, as he leaned in towards her slightly.

"Unfff, I'm gonna cum, Darlin'..." he murmured thickly, but the words had barely left his mouth, and so with Negan holding his dick firmly inside her, he soon sent stream upon stream of hot, white cum up into her cunt.

Both of them stood there for a moment, propped up by the counter now, breathing hard.

Before Negan, letting his hands slide up to Blake's shoulder, moved aside a small strand of blonde hair, pressing a kiss to her smooth shoulder.

At that feeling, Blake, still catching her breath, and trembling slightly on her feet, smiled gently.

Happy.

And it was just a second or two later, that Negan slowly eased himself out of her, as Blake stiffly pushed herself up once more, wincing a little as she did so.

They had to stop doing that, she knew it.

She was not taking any form of contraception right now and Negan cumming inside her was becoming a very regular occurrence right now. Twice in one day today, for example. And she just could not risk getting pregnant. Not after two miscarriages anyway. Not in this world.

Blake made a mental note to herself to go see Dr Carson later today or tomorrow.

She bent slightly, sliding her white cotton panties up her thighs one more, as she glanced over at Negan, who was sat now, on the edge of her bed, hand pressed to his un-stiffening cock and his eyes closed.

"Everything ok?" Blake mused, folding her arms across herself bemusedly, as she eyed him. His member still slick and glazed with her juices by the looks of it.

But Negan merely opened his chocolate eyes slowly, grinning over at her contently.

"Oh, it. is peachy fuckin' keen, Doll-face," he said reaching out his free hand and beckoning her over towards him.

Blake, smirking to herself, did as he wanted, padding over towards him on bare-feet, her front now completely covered in flour , as she came to straddle him, sitting down onto his lap, as his hands moved to her waist, sliding around her middle.

The dark-haired leader of the Saviours gazed up at her now, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. A look of utter awe passing over his long, bearded face.

No one had ever looked at Blake like Negan did, and this alone made butterflies swirl inside her.

She wanted so much to stay here forever with him now….

Just him and her.

"You really are a fuckin' queen, you know that, Darlin'?" Negan mused, his eyes taking in every inch of her face now, as Blake placed her hands gently to his leather-clad shoulders.

She licked at her lips slowly, smiling.

"I really wasn't before I met you, y'know," she answered in a quiet voice, a blush creeping up over her chest.

But Negan, reaching his hand up to Blake's face, swiped his thumb over her cheek, brushing away a little flour that lingered there, giving a sigh.

"Oh I bet you fuckin' were, Peaches…" he murmured now, gazing into her eyes. "I just don' think anyone gave you the fuckin' opportunity to shine."

Blake felt a lump appearing in her throat now, as she dropped her gaze from Negan's for the tiniest of moments, before staring up into his eyes once again.

"Thank you," she said in a voice barely louder than whisper now…..

… realising, truly and utterly, that she was so, so desperately in love with him.

Finally admitting it to herself...after all this time.

But still not quite plucking up the courage to admit it to Negan himself yet….

…instead, smiling and kissing at Negan's bearded lips once more.

There she was, caught in heaven now…both of them so wrapped up in one another…

Kissing gently at the other's lips….

…..neither of them noticing the strong smell of burning and smoke that had suddenly filled the small room.

Suddenly a sharp twinge hit Blake's nose and she pulled back from Negan, her eyes widening as she realised just what she could smell and see.

"Shit!" she cried, pushing herself from the dark-haired man now, readjusting her dress and getting hurriedly to her feet.

Running over, Blake quickly grabbed a dishcloth, opening the oven and tugging the tray of brownies out, placing them down onto the counter top, her other hand wafting away the steam and smoke as she did so.

Luckily, as the smoke cleared, taking a good look at them, they didn't look too bad. Perhaps a little caught around the edges, but even so, still pretty good.

She heard Negan behind her give a stiff grunt, easing himself from the bed and doing up the zipper on his pants and rethreading his belt buckle.

"Now those smell good enough to fuckin' eat, Sweetheart," he uttered out in a low growling voice, coming up behind Blake now and reaching over her shoulder for the tray of dessert, but Blake slapped his hand away.

"I told you, Negan," she scolded in a high-pitched voice. "These aren't for you."

The tall Saviour gave a grumble now and Blake could almost feel him pouting over her shoulder like a moody teenager.

"Well that's fuckin' gratitude for you, ain't it…" he said taking a step or two away from her now, as she glanced at him over her shoulder coyly, watching as the dark-haired man leaned back against his long legs and pointed at her, raising his eyebrows aloft in a teasing manner. "I provide you with shit, an' you give me nothin' in return. That how our entire relationship is gonna be, Princess?"

There it was, their playful banter returning again….causing Blake's lips to twitch slightly.

God, he truly did make her happy in so, so many ways.

But the caramel-blonde woman, brushing down the front of her dress neatly, just gave an easy shrug of her shoulders.

"Maybe," she purred out. "But you knew what you were getting into…"

And with that, she threw Negan a playful wink, before turning back to her brownies.

"Like I told you the first time we fucked, Negan.." she continued in a carrying voice, without looking around. "I like to be on top."

Behind her, at her words, she heard the leader of the Saviours let out an appreciative chuckle, dragging his hand down his stubbly bearded face and giving a heavy whining sigh.

"Oh, I know you do Darlin'," Negan murmured. "An', hell, I ain't gonna argue with that."

There was a short moment of silence where Blake heard Negan cross the room, heading over towards the door now.

"I've got a meetin'," he informed her. "But I will see. you. later, Peaches. Hopefully boucnin' up and down on my dick…as per fuckin' usual, seein' as you like it on top."

And Blake could only smile to herself now, rolling her eyes hard as she replied.

"Bye, Negan…" she uttered back in warning return, hearing the door open and close behind her, leaving the blonde queen, alone once more.

[starrysence]

chanting: SPAL BERT SPAL BERT SPAL BERT

what is???? spoon berry???? AKSJDJS IM KIDDING I LOVE SPALBERT HERE WE GO

warnings: mention of abuse + implied depression

×××

●ok so they both?? like? struggle w/ expressing their emotions verbally (spot a little more than albert), like in face-to-face conversation ▪modern era they wouldnt have a problem texting each other "ily" or "i love u" etc but they wont be able to say it out loud for a little while▪no problem showing physical affection tho●hoo boi are these boys physical▪what they lack in being verbal they make up for in kisses/hugs/hand holding/other stuff like that u know▪albert usually initiates physical contact bc he's so touch-starved▪when theyre both new to their relationship he does little things like hold spot's hand and trace shapes on the back of it ▪also draping his arm around spot's shoulders and running his fingers through his hair▪spot will never admit it but it drives him crazy●theyre both Very Athletic▪they just seem like the athletic type▪gonna be real i dont know SHIT about 99% of the sports on this planet so dont expect too much detail▪al loves track n dance and spot loves football▪actually al can run rlly fast it's kind of frightening▪extremely well defined muscles from dance▪def into ballet, modern, tap, jazz▪spot can hardly dance▪he knows ballroom dance bc of a class medda made him take and Thats It▪but hes really good at football▪works out. on the daily.▪al works out almost every day but some days he can barely bring himself to get out of bed and spot gets that▪al isnt one of those people who feels better after exercising bc he can barely get himself to do jt▪but he'll read a good book and listen to some nice music and thats his happy place▪sometimes he'll actually just pick spot up out of nowhere and nyoom y'know●a couple months into their relationship is when al tells spot hes adopted ▪spot is surprised bc al couldve told him earlier???? since he knows spot is adopted too▪but albert explains that he was scared bc telling someone hes adopted makes him feel like he has to tell them abt the shit his biological parents did to him

▪so spot tells him that he isnt being forced to talk about it if it makes him feel uncomfortable, and starts Panicking when albert starts crying▪hes all "did i say something wrong???" and albert shakes his head and just tells him that it means a lot that he said that▪now he is significantly ess Panicked▪and albert just like. pulls him into a hug and hes always down for that●neither of them like the snow very much●they stay inside wrapped in every blanket they can find in the house sipping hot chocolate with marshmallows in it and candy canes on the cup●spot is Ready to watch christmas movies on november 1st but al is in post-halloween denial and depression for at least the first 10 days of november▪it makes for a lot of arguments▪"i want to watch white christmas!!!!!!"▪"you can but i REFUSE"▪"can we look for a christmas tree-"▪"nOt YeT"▪spot would Actually Fight Al if he didnt love him so much●albert owns So Many sweaters▪spot does too but he loves to steal albert's▪"am i ever gonna get that back"▪"no probably not"▪"ok cool"●al is the first one to use a pet name▪spot gets really red and cant speak for like 3 minutes the first time albert calls him "babe"▪al is getting a LAUGH outta this hes never seen spot like this before▪"babe youre so cute when you blush oh my god"▪"sH ut up dasilva"▪"whatever you say babe"●spot is the first one to say "i love you"▪he gets really scared bc for a minute there albert is really quiet and just sitting there staring at his hands ▪but then he kisses spot so softly on the lips and spot's just like "o h" in the back of his mind▪and they both pull away after a few minutes and al is smiling really wide and he kisses spot's neck and whispers "i love you, too, spot"●al can bake▪spot Can Not▪spot's amazing at cooking tho▪but hes bitter bc so is albert▪it'll be al's turn to cook dinner one night and spot is eating a cookie from a batch albert baked earlier and hes just like "fuck you"▪"what?"

▪spot gestures to al with the half eaten cookie in his hand and speaks through a mouthful, "you can do both. it’s uNFAIR"▪al dies laughing ●uhhhh hh albert plays guitar and is way better at songwriting than he likes to admit ▪actually spot doesnt even know al writes song until he sees his songbook lying around and decides to look through it a lil▪he loves hearing al play with or without singing▪never hesitates to tell al how freakiNg good he sounds and albert blushes and smiles every time and replies "thanks" rlly softly▪it makes spot's heart melt. every damn time. and he cant help but just kiss his boy▪one time after al finishes playing a song he looks at spot and smiles and hes like "that one was about you"▪spot near CRIES▪ofc. kisses. he loves his bf so much▪eventually he has to be like "put the guitar away albert" so they can go further

●ngl albert proposes at 3am without entirely meaning to

▪like he has a ring n stuff but he was planning to propose on a cute date or something

▪but y'know they cant sleep so theyre in bed talking 

▪"you know what, spot?"

▪"what?"

▪"we should totally get married one day. like. it would be so cool. sean and albert conlon-dasilva"

▪"did you just. actually fucking propose to me at," he turns to check the clock and then turns back to face albert, "3:16 in the fucking morning"

▪albert turns around to grab the ring box out of his nightstand and turns back to face spot before opening it

▪".......yes"

▪what a disaster

▪spot loves him

×××

here u go juls!!!!!! this got really long ajshdsjs so i hope u like it

-sanj 💕

tag list:

@but-let-us-seize-the-day​

@one-candy-cane-please​

@suddenly-im-respecsable​

@intoomanyfandomstopickaname​

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen​

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@bencookisagod​

@well-the-kids-do-too​

@auspicioustarantula​

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn​

@have-we-got-news-for-you​

@not-a-scab​

@newsiesgarbage​

@pineappapizza

@andthewoildwillknow​

@concrete--donuts​

@stopthe-presses​

@thomasbeingthomas

@i-love-loki-and-sherlock

@maxvanna

[if you want to be added to my tag list, please shoot me an ask or a message letting me know! i’ll be happy to add you.]

[jeontaeh]

〚THIRTY NINE〛

Jungkook got confronted by Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon a week later.

He was in the library during the study period, listening to Dolly Parton while doing math homework. Because nothing solved calculus like some good old country music! He was halfway done when he heard a clearing of a throat.

"Jeon." A voice came abruptly, and Jungkook took his earphone out and looked up, raising his eyebrow when he saw the three boys. Namjoon in his glasses, Yoongi with his disheveled shirt sticking out of his trousers, and Hoseok looking slightly nervous.

"What?" Jungkook asked, voice flat.

With everything that had been going on so far in the school year, three of his best friends suddenly shunning him and pretending like he never existed was one of the worst. He was close to them. Maybe not how close he was to Jimin, but it still counted.

They ate lunch together every single day. Jungkook used to help Yoongi with his Chemistry assignments. Hoseok used to call Jungkook 'Kookie Boy' and always grin when Jungkook scowled. Namjoon used to help Jungkook with his English homework, always ruffling his hair afterward.

To just... ignore him like that. To completely push him away and even actively make homophobic remarks towards him. It sucked.

"We wanted to talk to you." Hoseok stated, and Jungkook saw the orange haired boy and then bit his lip.

"Okay..." Jungkook trailed and then saw Namjoon sigh. "Jungkook- we came here to apologize. About being so... rude about the gay thing."

Jungkook stilled. He looked at them with widened eyes. Hoseok nodded. "We were assholes to you. You don't deserve that, Jungkook! I've been wanting to apologize for ages, honestly. It just... it occurred to us suddenly how badly we fucked up." Hoseok mumbled.

"Why now?" Jungkook asked, and then saw Yoongi give him a look.

"Yesterday at football practice- one of the guys made a homophobic comment towards Sehun. Sehun didn't say anything, but V got really mad and yelled at everyone. Said stuff about how we were being ignorant and shouldn't make jokes like these." Yoongi said, hands in pockets.

Jungkook stilled. "Oh." Jungkook said, looking down at his notebook.

"We're sorry. Truly. Jin also kind of beat our ass." Namjoon said, and Jungkook bubbled out a giggle. "So yeah. We don't expect you to forgive us-"

"I don't. Not instantly. But- but people make mistakes. And you guys are still young, so the earlier you decide to change, the better." Jungkook said, giving the boys a small smile. Hoseok and Namjoon smiled brightly, while Yoongi just gave him a small smile. "I forgive you guys."

"Yay!" Hoseok said, and then jumped into the seat beside him, startling Jungkook. "You look bored as fuck doing maths. Let me show you this new track the three of us have been working on-" Hoseok said, taking his phone out.

"You guys do music now?" Jungkook gasped, grinning. It made him realize he hadn't had a proper conversation with them for months. Random small words exchanged during classes and football practice didn't count.

"Yeah! We rap." Namjoon said, and Jungkook giggled. "Or at least we try to." Yoongi added.

"I'm sure you're great! Let me hear it-" Jungkook said, and then got lost in mindless chatter with the boys.

///

kth_v

240 likes, 80 comments kth_v whats up broski

view comments...

eka11 change the caption instantly

jiminpark hottie thottie

eka11 @jiminpark "straight"

oohsehun wow

kth_v @oohsehun ?

minahearts you look so good 😍

eka11 v is so fucking hot

jeonjungkooks eka thats literally mex

eka11 mine too jungkook u aint special

jiminpark yall weird as fuck

jiminpark but he's hot tho mmm im straight but wow

jeonjungkooks why tf did sehun comment 'wow'

eka11 because he has eyes

jiminpark yah no offence i know u hate v or whatever but like damn must've been fun having sex with him

eka11 it really was

jeonjungkooks yeah

jeonjungkooks anyways u guys are the worst best friends why are you bringing up how good my 'ex' looks when im BOYCOTTING him

jiminpark sorry 👉🏻👈🏻

eka11 was he fun to top

jeonjungkooks i didnt?? top him?? why would i? im a Bottom 😙

jiminpark i know i saw the disposable vaginal douche in the garbage

eka11 omg i use that

jeonjungkooks omg wig

eka11 anyways wbk you're a bottom hows sehun been... is he still like 'fuck me daddy i'll be ur good little boy and take ur fat cock'

jeonjungkooks sehun has never said those words ever in his entire existence in humanity

jeonjungkooks and anyways idk we haven't had sex for a while

jiminpark 👀

jeonjungkooks like it just gets awkward so i just suck him off or something :/

eka11 no offense but why are u still dating him

eka11 he deadass cheated on u lmaooo

jiminpark didnt u cheat on like all of your boyfriends

eka11 this isnt about me

jeonjungkooks because he came over after that whole fiasco and i was crying he kind of comforted me and stuff and kept apologizing he told me that he was scared i dont like him back

jiminpark you dont

jeonjungkooks and idk i just had some fam issues so i was being mean to everyone sorry <3

eka11 its okay bby

eka11 but break up with sehun

jeonjungkooks i dont want to hurt him again! wait he texted me one sec

oohsehun babe there's a spring prom coming up omg lets go! matching clothes and all

jeonjungkooks we'll get bullied

oohsehun true

jeonjungkooks but sure sehunnie <3

oohsehun <3 <3 <3

///

"10-minute water break!" Coach announced, and the boys scurried off the field and towards the benches to go drink water. Taehyung heard him, but didn't care. He glared at the red circle on the goal post in front of him. He needed to hit the target at least once.

Taehyung hit the ball hard, fast. All the boys watched as the ball went straight towards the center of the goal, but missed the target by half an inch. The boys all gasped at how close he was, but Taehyung groaned to himself, crouching down and breathing heavily.

"V go get water. Don't exert yourself," Coach said, and Taehyung grumbled under his breath and stood up to walk over to the benches. The boys were all talking. Taehyung picked his water bottle and squeezed it tightly, squirting the water into his mouth.

"That's what good pussy tastes like."

"God, shut up." Taehyung begged Jackson, who huffed and turned away.

"Are you guys going for that Spring Prom shit?" Yoongi asked the guys, who hummed, some sounding annoyed. "Yeah. My girlfriend's making me. I rather stay in and fuck, but-"

"Tell me about it, bro. Talked to this girl one fucking time and suddenly I'm her boyfriend. She's making me go too. But we might have sex after, so I'm doing it." Another guy said.

"I'm going with Jungkook." Sehun said off-handedly, looking into space. Taehyung ignored how those simple words made it feel like someone straight up STABBED him.

"Dude... y'know ever since I've stopped thinking being gay was weird.... I realized liking dudes isn't much different than liking girls. Like, there are some dudes who are like... hella cute and shit. But I don't wanna date 'em. Y'know?" Jackson voiced. The boys snickered, some grimaced as if saying we don't know.

"You're probably just bicurious." Taehyung mumbled, and the guys looked at him, saw him wiping his sweat off with a towel. "Like you're straight but are into having sex with dudes too."

"Woah. That's a thing? Holy shit, I've been confused as fuck these past few weeks." Jackson gasped, and Taehyung hummed.

Sehun suddenly got up and left. Taehyung ignored him. He heard a gasp. "What does it mean if I like dick in my mouth?"

"You're fucking gay Bambam."

"Would you guys ever hook up with a dude? Like, for experimentation and shit?" Namjoon asked.

Jimin hummed. "Yeah. I wouldn't mind. How do I know I don't like it if I've never tried it?"

"Just like I know I wouldn't like your mom's pussy in my face."

"Fuck you."

"I guess I'd only hook up with a dude if I was really really into him. Not just like that." Mark mumbled, sounding weary.

"What about you, V?" Jin asked, looking at him. Taehyung looked at him, casually. He opened his mouth to speak. Right when he was about to-

"Guys Jungkook got us cookies," Sehun said brightly.

Taehyung didn't hear. "Nah I'd never fuck a dude. That's fucking gay, bro. I'm not into that kind of-"

Jimin coughed VERY loudly. Taehyung turned and saw Jungkook right behind him. Taehyung widened his eyes.

"Oh." Taehyung let out. Jungkook looked in disbelief. Taehyung's breath hitched. "Hey, um-"

"Seriously?" Jungkook asked, voice small. "Still?"

"Jungkook-" Taehyung tried, but Jungkook just snickered humorlessly and then moved away from Taehyung, grabbing Sehun.

"Meet me after practice." Jungkook said softly, and then kissed him on the mouth and turned around by the hell, walking away. Taehyung saw him walking away and sighed.

Jimin walked up to Taehyung after Sehun walked away, oblivious. Jimin looked at Taehyung. "How the fuck do you further fuck up something already so fucked up?"

"I don't know." Taehyung breathed out, and Jimin just shook his head, letting the boy deal with this mess himself. Taehyung saw Jungkook walk off the field as if he was disappointed, but not surprised.

"Boys, back on the field. Last one here has to take 3 laps-" Coach began, and all the boys got up and ran. Taehyung walked slowly, knowing he'd end up doing laps anyway because he stays back after practice to practice more these days.

"Okay boys. We've been target practicing to perfect our kick. And, I'll be honest, ya'll suck." Coach said, and the boys hung their heads low. "Like WOW. None of you hit the target even ONCE."

Taehyung pushed past the group of boys huddled in a circle and faced the open goal post which had the red circle in front of it. Still? Jungkook's words rang in his head. Taehyung saw the ball in front of it, and then took a few steps back.

Taehyung clenched his jaw and locked his ankle, eyes boring into the ball in front of him. He took a chaste step forward, hitting his planter foot to the right of the ball. His foot needed to control how the ball moved, rather than letting the ball control his foot-

Taehyung kicked the ball forcefully, feeling the power gliding smoothly down his calf to his foot as it merged with the ball and sent it spiralling towards the net. It hit the target perfectly.

The boys saw that and started clapping and shouting, some telling the coach that he took the L. Coach watched Taehyung and smirked, and Taehyung turned around and saw the boys.

"You're seriously as good as the pros," Youngjae said excitedly.

"We're so going to win our next match!" Hoseok said, jumping up and down.

Sehun suddenly shouted. Everyone froze and looked at him. Sehun groaned, putting his hands on his face.

"What're you doing, Coach?" Sehun asked, voice low. "Why'd you make me Captain?" Sehun asked wearily. Everyone widened their eyes, and Taehyung tensed.

"You alright kid?" Coach asked, and Sehun shook his head. He shook his head and then reached his hands behind his back and took his jersey off. He took the red material off and then chucked it on the floor.

"I don't want to be captain anymore. Not when V's clearly so much fucking better than me. It's not fair to him nor to the team." Sehun snapped, and Taehyung was frozen, eyes wide.

"Oh." Taehyung breathed out. Sehun was shirtless now, and breathed heavily. "I don't want to take something away from someone if it clearly belongs to them. And the position of Captain clearly belongs to you," Sehun said, and picked his jersey up and handed it to Taehyung.

"This is... really. Really fucking sick, dude." Taehyung said softly, in awe. "Fuck. I could kiss you right now." Taehyung grumbled to himself.

"R-really?" Sehun asked, eyes growing wide, glittering, cheeks turning a bit pink. Taehyung frowned at that.

"What? No. It was a fucking hyperbole- anyways! Thank you, Sehun. But I don't think Coach can-" Taehyung began, and then he heard a groan.

"Come on, coach! V should be Captain again! He's nice now, too! He apologised to Youngjae."

"He did WHAT?! Holy shit, he has changed!" Coach gasped, and then looked at Taehyung, who was gulping. "Look, kid. I have to discuss this with the principal-"

"Becoming Captain would help me get into a good school, coach." Taehyung said softly, hands coiled, eyes big. He reminded the coach of the kid he met four years ago, with ruffled brown hair and big brown saddened eyes, just sticking through because of the determination and passion he had for football.

"Jeez. Okay, um- I'll hold a vote tomorrow. After discussing it with the principal." Coach promised, patting Taehyung's back. "Now get back to practice!"

Taehyung smiled, and looked at Sehun, snickering. "You taking your shirt off was useless, by the way. This jersey has your name on it. Plus I still have my Captain's jersey-"

"It still made the statement though- you can't deny that." Sehun said, and then tugged his jersey back on.

"Thanks." Taehyung mumbled, looking away. He could never looked someone in the eyes while saying something nice to them.

"No problem. Consider it an apology for what I did... before." Sehun mumbled, and then chuckled awkwardly and ran away, flustered. Taehyung sighed to himself, coiling his fists.

I'm in love with your boyfriend, Taehyung wanted to shout out. But he didn't. Instead, he felt something. Certain confident courage he'd always had coursing through his veins.

///

"I'm sorry," Taehyung said two days later to Jungkook, who he found alone in the washroom, standing in front of the mirror.

"I'm not the person you should be apologizing to." Jungkook said softly, and then turned around and walked away- and that was the only interaction they had.

And then two days after that, Taehyung lifted his head up and saw Jungkook standing in front of his food table.

"Yourself. Apologize to yourself." Jungkook stated simply. Taehyung was confused, but Jungkook turned around and left, leaving him like that, with only those few words to hang on by.

The week passed like that. With a certain fog in Taehyung's mind. He thought about what Jungkook said. Apologize to yourself. He didn't quite understand. He wanted to know more, but Jungkook did tell him to leave him alone.

Taehyung saw Jungkook by the lockers and walked up to him, opening the locker beside him (even though it was Yoongi's, but, whatever) and hesitated.

"Why can't things go back to normal?" Taehyung asked aloud.

"I don't know what normal is with you." Jungkook said, and then walked past him. Taehyung closed his locker in front of him, leaning against it and sighing out.

Their next conversation was the night before the prom.

"Will you ever forgive me for hurting you?" Taehyung asked, standing by the water fountain. Jungkook was also by the water fountain, and Taehyung saw his fingers tighten around the ceramic sink.

"I already have." Jungkook breathed out softly, and then leaned down to the water fountain to get water between his pretty lips.

"Why're you with Sehun?" Taehyung asked, puzzled, leaning against the pillar which was attached to the water fountain/

"I like him."

"You don't."

"You sound quite certain for someone who's so shit with their feelings." Jungkook said sharply, and then brought his head up to look at Taehyung, who had a blank expression on his face. "Sorry," Jungkook said quicker, turning around and walking away, again.

The night of the prom arrived.

Taehyung stood in front of his mirror, looking at himself. He was wearing a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, making his veins prominent. Along with that, he wore black trousers. It was simple, but honestly, he was only going because Yoongi promised he'd give him weed after.

He heard a sharp knock on the door. Taehyung was confused as to who would come to his dorm, and opened the door, and saw Eka and Jimin. Taehyung's eyebrow rose at them.

"You guys look good. Shit, is it so fancy?" Taehyung asked, annoyed. Eka was wearing a tight silver dress, short and lifting her boobs up, her eyeliner sharp and lipstick black. Jimin had his hair swept back, showing his forehead. He was wearing a red suit.

"It is. You're not wearing that." Eka said, turning Taehyung around and pushing him into his bedroom.

"I literally don't give a fuck about this prom. I'm single and sad and want to get high." Taehyung protested.

"What the fuck is on your head," Jimin stated while looking up at Taehyung. Taehyung sighed. "It's a Gucci headband. I like wasting my dad's money."

"Understandable. Put this on." Eka said, having opened Taehyung's closet and taken out a black suit jacket. She handed it to Taehyung, who rolled his eyes and shrugged the suit jacket on.

"Here." Jimin said, picking out a Rolex watch from his desk and handing it to him. Taehyung wrapped it around his wrist, and then snickered to himself. "What?" Jimin asked, and Taehyung shook his head.

("You look hot as fuck in a suit." Jungkook said, eyes wide as he wrung his fingers around Taehyung's wrist. "C-can you fuck me with it on?"

"I can and I will.")

"Nothing. Just reminiscing the past." Taehyung said, and Eka huffed. "Dramatic bitch. Now come on." Eka said, walking out of Taehyung's dorm.

"You look hot as fuck, Eka." Taehyung said, putting his hands in his pocket. "In a friend kinda way."

"Thanks. I know." Eka said, and Taehyung snickered. Jimin eyed him and glared. Taehyung rolled his eyes.

They walked to the sports hall, where the Spring Prom was taking place. The student council went overboard with this Prom stuff. Decorating the hallways weeks before. Putting big banners which said 'SPRING PROM!' on them. Announcing it every goddamn day on the speakers.

When they walked into the sports hall, they saw it completely decorated. The sides of the walls were lined with paper mache trees which had pink blossoms on it. It looked pretty. Taehyung couldn't remember what the room looked like before, in fact. The tables on the side were lined with food and drinks. No alcohol, but someone always snuck it in. Teachers stood by the side, talking to themselves and looking around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. There was a stage against the wall, some music nerds standing on it, playing music for the event. Everyone who went to the school was there, practically. People were dancing, talking with their friends, or just having a good time.

"Wow," Eka murmered, and the three walked into the room, looking around. Taehyung was bored already. "Why'd you guys come to my room by the way? Did you, like, know I was going to underdress?"

"No. You've just been upset for the past few... weeks. We were making sure you were actually coming. Yoongi told us about how he made you believe he had weed-"

"He was lying? Motherfucker. I'm leaving." Taehyung said, turning around sharply. The moment he did, he froze.

Jungkook stood by the entrance, looking around with his big curious eyes. He looked nervous, palpable hesitance showing from his stance. He was wearing a silky white shirt which was tucked into his tight black trousers, accentuating his waist. He wore a floral suit jacket and a choker.

"Wow," Taehyung let out this time, already feeling his insides going weak. Taehyung didn't see Eka and Jimin beside him give each other a knowing look, and then look ahead at Jungkook, who spotted the three.

"Hi!" Jungkook said, smiling and running up to them, looking less tense when he saw them. "Y-you said to meet me by the entrance." Jungkook said softly.

Taehyung wanted to give him a thousand kisses. "Sorry, Kookie. We came in. Doesn't this place look beautiful?" Jimin asked.

"Yeah! They're really going deep with this spring theme thingy," Jungkook giggled. Taehyung wanted to give him a million kisses now.

Jungkook looked at Taehyung, and tensed. Taehyung didn't know why. It was probably his presence. So Taehyung just gave the boy a small smile and turned around to walk away and find the other guys.

Jungkook, meanwhile, let out a small sigh. "He looks so good." Jungkook murmered to himself, voice gentle. "I wish he didn't."

"I know, baby. Don't think about him, okay?" Eka said, and Jungkook nodded. "Where's Sehun?" Eka asked, looking around.

"I'm here, bitches." Sehun said, and Jungkook looked at him and then rose his eyebrows. Sehun was in a bright blue suit and a black shirt and tie, smirking at them.

"Hey babe," Jungkook said to Sehun, who walked over to him, leaning down to kiss his mouth. Jungkook turned his head so Sehun could kiss his cheek instead. Sehun did, and then leaned back, scowling.

"You look... nice." Jungkook said.

"You too." Sehun mumbled. Jimin sighed, breathing out from the heavy tension in the room.

"Wow. Okay- um! Let's dance!"

The four began dancing away. Jennie, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rose joined the four, along with Yugyeom and Bambam. Jimin looked to Rose with a small smile, dancing closer to her. Jungkook was having fun, until he felt his hips being grabbed.

Jungkook got dragged to a body, and then realised Sehun had his chest pressed against his back. "You look pretty." Sehun said, kissing his neck, rolling his hips onto his back. Jungkook smiled at him, dancing back.

Sehun turned the boy around and then grabbed his waist. He reached down, kissing Jungkook's lips. Jungkook pulled away and then looked to the other side so Sehun wouldn't do that again.

"What's wrong?" Sehun asked, frowning. Jungkook shook his head, giving Sehun a smal smile. "Nothing," Jungkook reassured, putting his hands on Sehun's arms.

Jungkook looked to the side and saw Taehyung, leaning again a wall, sulking. Taehyung shifted his eyes around the room and then caught them with Jungkook's. Jungkook felt Sehun tighten his grip on his waist, and Jungkook just looked at Taehyung.

Sehun kissed Jungkook's jaw. "Do you wanna go to my room after this?"

Jungkook saw Taehyung give him a certain look. Jungkook wanted to move his eyes away, but couldn't. Suddenly, he felt a jolt through his body and turned his head, eyes widened when he was pushed back.

"What's your problem?" Sehun snapped, and Jungkook stilled. Sehun looked annoyed, eyes darkened, eyebrows furrowed.

"Nothing! I-" Jungkook began, but then saw his friends looking at the two weirdly. Sehun must've seen the same, because he grabbed Jungkook by the forearm and dragged him out of the sports hall.

Jungkook stumbled after him. "Se-Sehun-" Jungkook said, and then suddenly felt a shift as he moved out of the loud pink lightened room into the dark, vacant hallway. Sehun pulled him till the side and then let him go.

"What is it? You've been weird since we started dating- so fucking on and off. One second you want me, and another you're weirded out and want me to go away. I'm just trying to wrap my fucking head around all this, Jungkook- because- because you say you want me, but-"

"I'm sorry, o-okay? There's just a lot of things that have been going on-" Jungkook stammered.

"Then talk to me about them! I've asked you to at least try and open up to me so many times! But you just refuse to! Is it something wrong with me?" Sehun asked, frowning.

"N-no. No, you're perfect-" Jungkook said softly.

Sehun looked helpless. "Then what is it? Why did you get back together with me if you were going to treat me like shit after? You were so rude to me, and don't even talk to me sometimes when we're with Eka and Jimin. It's really awkward, Jungkook, to pretend I'm alright-"

"I'm sorry!" Jungkook cried out, and then stopped, looking at Sehun with watery eyes. The way Sehun was describing him reminded Jungkook of Taehyung.

"I-I'm sorry for- for being so weird. I just- I-I don't know, Sehun. I want to like you, I r-really do. I just can't fucking get over someone and it's r-ruining everything for me. I'm sorry." Jungkook let out, voice bubbly, as if close to crying.

Sehun tensed, and then looked down at his shoes, gulping a lump in his throat. "It's V, isn't it?"

Jungkook began crying, reaching his hands to his face to stop them, to try his hardest to stop them. Jungkook shook his head. "N-no. I don't- I am over him. I am."

"You like him." Sehun said, looking away. "He likes you too-"

"No Sehun. He d-doesn't. He just wants to have sex with me, that's all-" Jungkook tried, but Sehun snickered, looking away.

"That night. That night when we first had sex. When you left suddenly to comfort V- did you two do anything?" Sehun asked, fingers coiled. Jungkook sniffled. "Because the next day you were all fucking over him-"

"Sehun-"

"So he wants you for sex, huh? And you're still hung over him? Even though you have guys who like you for you?" Sehun asked, and Jungkook looked down, clenching his fists and shutting his eyes. "That's pretty fucking pathetic, Kook."

"I know. Stop telling me, p-please." Jungkook tried, and Sehun tsked.

"I don't want to be rude. You just made me feel so fucking shit for the past few weeks. If you just told me I was a fucking rebound for an asshole-"

"Y-you w-weren't-"

"-I wouldn't have ever asked you out. You probably just did it to make him jealous. I'm so fucking stupid." Sehun muttered under his breath, looking away. "Well, honestly- I don't care much. You're hung over a dude who's probably going to slap you across the face when you say no to him-"

"He wouldn't!" Jungkook cried, tears rushing down his face. Sehun looked at him, pausing. "H-he wouldn't fucking do that! You don't know him, no one does! I don't either, o-okay? I thought I did- I-I thought I knew him, b-but I don't! And I'm still in love with him, i-is that what you want me to tell you?" Jungkook shouted, voice breaking.

"I f-fell in love for a guy who doesn't give ha-half a shit about me. And I'm sorry." Jungkook squeaked out weakly. Sehun let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Jungkook felt the warm tears running down his face and put his hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling.

"I'm sorry. I-I need to go. I'll ask Jimin and Eka to come here-" Sehun said, and Jungkook didn't care, just slid down the wall, sitting down on the floor like the fucking mess he was- tears running down his face.

Jungkook sat there for a bit, crying softly. He felt the same feeling he had back when Taehyung told him he didn't mean anything to him. When Jungkook found him sleeping with Eka, and Taehyung slammed the door in his face. So fucking hurt.

"Kookie," A soft voice came, and Jungkook looked up.

Taehyung had his eyes big, looking at the pretty boy on the floor, tears in his eyes and stains of it weaving a path down his cheeks. Taehyung had one hand in his pocket, heart thudding as he crouched down to face him.

"K-Kookie, you-"

"Don't." Jungkook said, and then closed his eyes. Taehyung didn't push him. He just looked at him. "P-please. Leave me be."

"Not when you're like this, I can't." Taehyung said softly.

"God f-fucking damnit, Taehyung- stop pretending you c-care about me! You'll j-just lead me on to hurt me again. You don't know how I felt for those two months w-we spent together, Tae. You don't. Just. Please go." Jungkook said meekly, sniffling and looking up at the ceiling.

"I-I do care." Taehyung said, but he sounded hesitant, and it made Jungkook chuckle.

"You still think you're straight, Tae." Jungkook let out, voice weak. "You're far from being able to care about me."

Taehyung froze. He looked at Jungkook, who stood up from the floor, eyes slightly red from the tears. Taehyung's breath hitched, and then he let out- "I-I'm so fucking scared, Kookie. I'm not as- as brave as you. I never will be."

"T-then come meet me when you are." Jungkook stated, and then left, leaving Taehyung in the hallway.

Jungkook walked back in the sports hall, probably to tell Jimin and Eka of where he was, they were probably worried. Taehyung tightened his fists. He couldn't describe it. Couldn't describe the absolute fear that reaped through his body at the thought of-

At the thought of what?

Was it of everyone finding out?

Was that what he was afraid of?

Or was it something bigger than that? His mother, his father, what they'd taught him. What his mother had left him with. That fear that he was doing what she would've resented.

But at the fleeting moment, at that split second, that passing of time when the moon glowed outside like a watchful guardian- Taehyung realized. He rose to his feet, standing up. His heart drummed loudly against his chest, as if on beat, heightening his senses and telling him to hurry up. He was running out of time.

Taehyung took a step forward, towards the sports hall. Jungkook. His beautiful eyes, how they looked like they'd been dipped in honey and the core of sunlight. How his giggles sounded like that of harmonious angels. How his smile would always make Taehyung feel so much... better.

Something he hadn't felt since his mother had died. A sense of belonging. Home.

Taehyung walked towards the sports hall and entered it, seeing people still dancing, some chill song playing. Taehyung couldn't find Jungkook. His heart was racing. His anxiety was brimming at the bottom of his stomach.

He felt, at that moment, like he could do anything.

Taehyung felt absolute impulse take him over. Adrenaline started pumping down his body, the same he felt at football matches. This felt like a football match, except the goal was something different, and his aim was fucking terrible.

Taehyung let go. He ran straight forward and jumped onto the stage, startling the dudes in the band. They all looked at Taehyung, who carelessly grabbed the microphone from the lead singer, some kid from the grade below. The kid looked annoyed, but Taehyung mumbled "It'll only take a minute."

The band stopped playing, and everyone groaned, annoyed that the music stopped. Taehyung cleared his throat into the microphone, and then took a deep breath. "Shut up!" Taehyung shouted loudly, and everyone in the room shook.

Everyone went silent and turned to look at him with wide eyes, as if wondering why the fuck he was yelling while standing on a stage. Taehyung looked around, and then spotted Jungkook. The boy was facing away, grabbing his phone and trying to walk over to the exit.

"Wait." Taehyung said, and Jungkook paused and looked at him, a blank expression on his face. He looked annoyed.

Taehyung looked around. "Hi guys." Taehyung said, seeing all these kids he'd seen every day for the past three years. "This- this prom is cool, right? Like the- um- flowers and stuff." Taehyung stammered, and then cleared his throat.

"Okay. Hello. I've never formally introduced myself. Most of you know me as V. Captain of the football team." Taehyung said, and saw Sehun in the back of the room, frowning as well. Taehyung took a deep breath, seeing all the students looking at him with wide eyes. "But- but most of you don't know my real name."

Taehyung gulped. "I'm Taehyung. Kim Taehyung." Taehyung said, and there was a hushed whisper that fell across the room. He'd never said his full name out loud like this.

"Most of you know me as that asshole that bullies you, probably. Fair enough. I've made mistakes. A lot of them." Taehyung said. "I don't expect to be forgiven. I just want you to know I'm trying. And I'm changing, and growth is- is normal. It's normal." Taehyung said, nodding.

Everyone looked confused, still. They wanted to start dancing again, probably. But most actually looked intrigued, never having seen the guy speak more than 3 words at best which weren't insults.

"I'm standing here right now because I made a mistake. A really big one." Taehyung said, shaking his head. "I hurt someone. Badly. I hurt someone over and over again, and I shouldn't have. By the time I realized how much the person meant to me, it was too late." Taehyung mumbled, and everyone looked more confused.

Taehyung looked around, and then spotted Jungkook standing beside his friends, just the hint of confusion on his face. Not like the others, though. A more of disbelief.

Taehyung scratched his head, and then sighed loudly. "God, there's so many of you. I swear it's like the new crop of freshmen are, like, so goddamn small. I was so much taller when I was your age, what the hell-" Taehyung mumbled, and then looked around, hearing some laughs.

"I'm rambling, fuck. Shit! Sorry, forgot I couldn't swear. Ah damn, I swore again. Fuck-" Taehyung began, and then hit his head with the mic, and looked ahead, taking a deep breath.

Fuck it. Nothing matters. Not as much as him. Nothing has ever mattered as much as he has. "I'm sort of in love with someone." Taehyung let out, and there were gasps that spread across the room.

Taehyung couldn't see Jungkook's eyes- didn't want to, in fact. "I'm sort of, really, really fucking madly in love with someone. And that someone is standing here right now, and god-" Taehyung let out a chuckle, covering his face. "You'd never think I'd be the type to- to stand on a goddamn stage in the middle of what looks like actual fairy shit and confess my love to someone, but-"

Taehyung looked ahead, and then found Jungkook. Jungkook had his eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. Taehyung smiled. "You change me." Taehyung said, words soft. "You m-make me... a better version of myself. I'm not mean when I'm with you. I'm not sad. I'm not an asshole. You make me study harder, you make me play harder, you make me... harder." Taehyung said the last part, and then started laughing.

"Shit- I just realised there's, like, 200 other people in here. I'm kidding! Don't have sex till marriage! Or, do. I don't know. Sorry Ms. Yang!" Taehyung said, and everyone started laughing. Fuck, he was going crazy. He couldn't get a hold of himself, but suddenly- suddenly it felt like he was so free. So free, so free from everything that's ever been holding him back-

"You know what else?" Taehyung asked, looking around the room. "I'm bisexual!" Taehyung shouted out, and everyone shut up real fast.

Literally EVERYONE's eyes widened and jaws dropped. Girls he'd slept with looked surprised, guys he'd bullied looked mad, people who didn't know him looked shocked. His own friends looked the most shocked.

"Yeah! I like girls, and I like guys. And there's nothing wrong with that. Like, at all. Wow. Oh my god. I said it out loud." Taehyung let out, whispered. "Fuck, okay. Shit. Yeah. It's out there. I'm bisexual. I'm bi-fucking-sexual. I'm so fucking bisexual. Wow. WOW-"

"Dude. The teachers are gonna cut the sound off any minute. Stop swearing." The lead singer dude whispered, and Taehyung nodded.

"Oh- okay okay. Sorry. No more swearing." Taehyung agreed, and then looked ahead and saw Jungkook standing behind Jimin, looking nervous, eyes wide, hands bunched up into fists.

Taehyung looked around. "I've never spoken so much. I just- I can't believe this. I feel so free, y'know? Like- like I'm high as hell, but sober. Not that I know what being high feels like, Ms. Yang don't worry." Taehyung reassured, laughing.

"Who are you in love with?" A voice shouted from the audience, and Taehyung looked.

Taehyung gulped. He leaned into the mic. "A boy." He whispered, and gasps spread across the room again. Taehyung giggled at how surprised everyone looked. "I'm so in love with him, you guys. He's the prettiest boy in the whole goddamn world. Maybe universe. Haven't seen aliens yet. Actually- scratch that. He's the prettiest boy in the universe."

Jungkook hid behind Jimin properly now, hands covering his face, his whole body trembling lightly. Taehyung gulped. Here goes.

"I'm Kim Taehyung." Taehyung said, voice clear. "I'm bisexual." Taehyung said, and then smiled. "And I'm so goddamn in love with Jeon Jungkook."

People literally started screaming. Jungkook squeaked out in surprise and got pushed out into the center by Jimin and Eka, who both looked thrilled as hell. Jungkook still had his face covered, because everyone was looking at him, eyes wide, mouths wider.

"He's WHAT?!" Yoongi shouted from the side, slapping a hand over his mouth.

"Oh my fucking god." Jin whispered, eyes wide. "Oh my god oh my GOD-"

"Guys someone drugged Taehyung and put him on that stage." Namjoon said. It was the only explanation.

"This is brilliant." Yugyeom whispered, eyes glazed. Bambam grimaced. "I fucking knew it. He always looked at him weird."

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, heart racing rapidly, stomach making a thousand turns a second. "Baby?" Taehyung said softly, not caring how that made everyone go even more in shock. "I-I can see you, you know that, right?" Taehyung chuckled fondly.

Jungkook put his hands down, blushing brightly. His eyes were filled with tears, fists clenched beside him. People had moved out of the way, so there was a clear spacing between the stage and where Jungkook was stood, so the boys could see each other clearly.

"Jeon Jungkook." Taehyung whispered into the mic. "I know- I know I'm the biggest douchebag you ever met. I hurt you. I was an asshole." Taehyung said, suddenly growing fearful. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby." Taehyung said, voice weak.

Jungkook just sniffled from where he was stood, cheeks so pink and fists so tightly clenched that he couldn't speak. Everyone was staring between him and Taehyung in awe, surprised, shocked, just couldn't believe that V, the homophobic fuck boy captain of the football team- was out here passionately declaring his love for a boy.

"R-right before I got on this stage, I thought about how you came out to everyone. Always so ridden by impulse, my Jungkookie," Taehyung said with a small fond smile, and people aww'ed. Jungkook bit his lip, looking down.

"So, I'm going to ask this. I'm really really really fucking scared." Taehyung admitted, and then took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

Be brave. Taehyung opened his eyes. "Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung whispered, voice barely coherent. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647264967393984512/forty