#like what do you MEAN 20k votes

[lunarblazes]

every time i see the vote counts on the mcytblr sexyman polls i am violently reminded of how big this fucking fanbase is

#like what do you MEAN 20k votes #this fandom ISN’T just me and my 12 best mutuals??? #lunar winds

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

ngl kinda curious what happens if mc gets shipped with one of the nobles more often than the kings instead?

You know the AO3 ship popularity chart? Let's say they did one of those for the "child of Solomon" fandom.

Mod Jjok: The most popular ship with Mc for this month is... Mc x Sitri! With over 20k words in the longest running fanfiction on the ship reaching peak popularity in the middle of the month!

Dantalian: Sitri? Isn't that his majesty Satan's blood bag?

Glasylabolas: It turns out he has a name.

Paimon: I think this must be mistakeeeeen. I just recently wrote in collaboration with Astaroth a 25k words fanfic about Mc x Satan

Eligos: Oh, I mass-reported that one. I would apologise about that, but demons can't lie

Paimon: You're so sillyyyyy

Paimon: You just lost cuteness session priveledgessss

Eligos: :'(

Eligos: It was for the greater good of Tartaros

Bimet: Very noble of you, Eligos

Dantalian: Bimet! You fucking bitch, where's my MC body pillow????

Eligos: @Dantalian please take this in private we don't vibe with this negative energy here

Dantalian: Speak for yourself, I vibe with it!

Gamigin: Guys, what happened????? I was asleep, it's like 5 AM in here.

Gamigin: HOLY FUCK

Gamigin: How did Sitri of all people win????

Paimon: I mean, he's not that baaaaaaad

Gamigin: 20k words isn't even that long! How?!

Gamigin: I think we all have to come together to break the two up

Gamigin: Sitri is a common enemy and we shall stop him!

Dantalian: I'm sharpening my knife as we speak.

Gamigin: His Majesty Lucifer said I'm not allowed to leave Paradise Lost :'(

Dantalian: And?

Gamigin: And ... what?

Dantalian: He's not your dad! Even if he was, you don't have to listen to him. Do you think I listen to everything his majesty Asmodeus tells me to do? No. He may be my dad and my king, but I am in control of my own future.

Glasylabolas: Preach brother, preach

Gamigin: But I don't want to go against Lucifer's orders

Dantalian: Pussy

Glasylabolas: Pussy

Dantalian: First! Suck it old man!

Gamigin: Wait, doesn't Paimon live in the same country as Sitri?????

Gamigin: @Paimon, dearest, could you please kill Sitri for us? At least tranquillise him or something. Make sure he doesn't move anymore.

Paimon: I'm not murdering Sitri over thisssss

Paimon: I'll just ask him if it's true he's dating Mccccc

Dantalian: I think we should vote on Sitri's fate

Glasylabolas: Absolutely. I am for democracy.

Dantalian: Knife or gun death?

Glasylabolas: I prefere knife. Gun's make everything messier. How am I supposed to get arroused by a pile of guts?

Dantalian: Ask Ronové or Phenix and they'll tell you

Dantalian: I once saw Ronové remove an angel's intenstines and fucking them

Eligos: That's why nobody wants to visit Abaddon.

Dantalian: In his defence, it was kind of hot

Glasylabolas: I can imagine

Glasylabolas: I should call Ronové again...

Dantalian: He charges for one night stands now cause Abaddon lost its health care recently

Gamigin: Yeah, Morax told me about how you started getting curious about his eye hole.

Dantalian: I don't even blame Ronové for that one. I'm also curious what happens if you cum down someone's eye socket.

Paimon: Ok guyssssss

Paimon: I talked with himmmm

Paimon: It turns out that he just had a lot of black tea recently and wrote 20k words in a dayyyyy

Paimon: And a lot of people read it because Asteroth recomended it on his bloggggg

Dantalian: ah, yeah, shipping

Dantalian: Asmodeus x Mc for the win

Eligos: In your dreams

Dantalian: Yes. I do dream about that often.

Dantalian: I don't even know why y'all care so much for Mc's sex life

Dantalian: Having sex with only one partner is boring

Gamigin: Keep your shitty opinions to yourself.

Dantalian: Only if you make me

Eligos: I'm going to mass report it

Gamigin: I already did <3

Sitri: All of you are so mean

[Mod Jjok stopped comments on this post]

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb gamigin #whb paimon #whb eligos #whb glasylabolas #whb dantalian #whb bimet #whb sitri #shipper au

[ygobigbang]

Everyone, thank you very much for the responses! We’ll go over our plans for what to do next, and what you should keep an eye out for!

Firstly, thank you for all your patience for the new mod team! You can find us and our experience listed HERE as well as our names on our Tumblr page (desktop mode). We hope you continue to give us your support as we settle into our new roles.

Second, for all the Misawas and number lovers out there, we'll go over the IC numbers after the end of this announcement.

And third and most important of all, we’re announcing our first project as a SPRING SEASON MINI-BANG. We’ll be releasing more details over the coming week, and hopefully have sign-ups ready by the end of the month. This will be a much smaller event, with 1k minimums, so that everyone can get used to working together and getting warmed up before the main event!

Once again, thank you for your interest, and we’ll see you soon!

And now, from Mod Pan, this:

First off, "Do you want to participate in a General/All Series Bang?"

That's 62,7% yes, 37,3% maybe, and no "No"s! Love to see how people interested in talking about it want to participate, should circumstances allow.

Next is "If yes, what role?"

At 40,3% writers take the lead, but 32,8% artists and 26,9% as a combo of both means people of all artistic tendencies are well-distributed!

So we've got the peeps, so when do we start? That's the next question!

The two leaders were a (North) Summer Start at 67,2%, followed by a (North) Spring Start at 25%. The other results were one vote each, for 'either', 'both', 'anytime', 'not sure', and a shout-out to whoever asked if these seasons were North or Southern Hemisphere- They're all North, for the record, due to that being where the majority of the mods are located. It was a good heads-up, though, and I'll try to mention specific months next time alongside seasonal names.

Last two multiple-choice questions!

For writers, what minimum word count are you comfortable with?

The clear winner here was 10k words, at 48,3%, with 15k next at 13,3%. A full 26% were just artists clicking the "I'm an Artist" button, and the other options (5k, 25k, and 'anything from 10-20k depending on concept") got a single vote each, except 20k words, which came in around 8% instead. I like this excitement!

And for the artists: What fic length are you most comfortable working with?

Everyone continues having 10k as their sweet spot number, as the 36,7% votes show, and this has definitely been taken into account. Next is 15k at 25%, and every subsequent 5k increment loses another 5% votes. And to the two who don't really know and are just gonna go with the flow, and are willing to read all the way up to 50k as long as the concept interests you, we'll do our best at matchmaking so it won't feel like a sacrifice, no matter how excited the writers get!

And that's it for math time! The non-multiple choice answers won't be discussed here, since even without names attached those were private responses, but do be sure the mod team has read all of them and will be keeping all of them in mind going forward.

See y'all next time!

#yugioh #big bang #fandom event #ygo #ygo 5ds #ygo arc v #ygo dm #ygo go rush #ygo vrains #yugioh go rush #ygo sevens #ygo gx

[qqueenofhades]

Oh look, it's exactly what I was saying in my Bush v. Gore explainer post that went pseudo-viral and got a lot of people Big Mad at me in the notes for pointing out, even in briefest passing, that Nader took votes away from Gore and in an election as close as 2000, that probably cost him the presidency. According to my independent math, Gore would have netted approximately 18.9k extra votes in Florida in a Nader-less election, so 20k fits almost exactly in that ballpark.

By the way, the guy who liked that tweet/posted the original question, Michael Beschloss, is an acclaimed and prolific presidential historian. Which means that we are on the same wavelength here as people who study history professionally and draw similar conclusions from it, and also that this news of "former Republicans and Democrats forming a 'centrist' third party!" has both of us facepalming, groaning, and wondering if people really never learn anything. Also, this so-called Shiny New Centrist Party literally has... no policies....? Just a stupid slogan?? ("How will we solve the big issues facing America? Not Left. Not Right. Forward.") As if they're hoping (they are hoping) that you'll notice it makes, uh, no fucking sense.

Milquetoast Moderation!!! is generally bad as a political strategy anyway, since a) it pleases nobody, especially in a hyper-polarized environment, and b) acting like the far left and the far right are equally dangerous extremists, who should both be equally shunned, is an absolutely idiotic claim that casts serious doubt on whether these clowns want to do anything aside from continue to suck votes away from Democratic candidates. In a political environment where one party has gone full masks-off fascist death cult and won't even commit to protecting BIRTH CONTROL, not to even mention that they don't want to provide veterans with health benefits no matter how much they claim to love the military, anyone who looks at that, looks at the Democrats, and screams THEY ARE BOTH THE SAME, ONLY WE HAVE THE CENTRIST ANSWER!! should not be given the time of day.

There are far left elements in society, and as I have posted about, they're the usually terminally online types who have stupid ideas on Twitter and discourage civic engagement in others. Yes, those people are dangerous, but that is not at all what is at issue here or what these New Centrist Third Party-ers (oh Andrew Yang, you perpetual disappointment) are reacting to. If you actually think the current institutional Democratic party is too far left and this is bad, then you want to maintain the system pretty much exactly as it is, while slapping on a nice coat of "socially tolerant!" paint to attract a few ex-Republicans who have finally hit their limit with the crazymaking Christofascists and think the most important thing about politics is that it should be "nice!" and "respectable!" Who cares if we actually fix anything; gotta make sure the kids on the playground are being civil!

Anyway, as ever when it comes to so-called Moral Third Party Alternatives in the current American political system, this is a profoundly stupid idea, could split the anti-authoritarian vote in 2024 and thus elect said authoritarian (as Beschloss also worried about), and literally... offers... no strategic plan. On top of its false equivalence (Republicans want to destroy democracy, Democrats explain their pronouns and what they are wearing to blind and visually impaired people, EQUALLY BAD DON'T VOTE FOR EITHER!), it reinforces the media "bothsiderism" that is already destroying the country and any accurate coverage of Biden's presidency, legitimizes right-wing and Online Leftist propaganda alike, and deliberately undermines the only actual organised political faction (the Democratic Party) that is currently keeping outright fascism in the USA at bay. Don't fall for it.

#hilary for ts #politics for ts #history #american history

[lifewithchronicpain]

A lot of people have been rightfully critical of the Biden administration not following through on campaign promises. While Democrats have control of the Senate and House, the razor thin majority in the Senate meant one senator could derail the whole thing, which played out this past year with Manchin tanking the Build Back Better Bill.

However recently there have been a lot of legislative wins and good things getting passed that I wanted to just go over some of them so people can judge for themselves whether the Biden administration has met some of their promises.

First of all, last year the Infrastructure Bill was passed with 2 trillion for failing infrastructure and a focus on expanding broadband internet access.

When it comes to this year, here is what has happened.

First gun legislation in 30 years that helps strengthen restrictions like closing the "boyfriend loophole"

The Chips Act which creates jobs in America and help address the chip shortage affecting cars and computers.

The Pact Act which addresses the toxic exposure of veterans from burn pits in the middle east and agent orange in Vietnam.

The Inflation Reduction Act, which admittedly is bit of an oversell of the inflation aspect but has lots of good stuff. It's the biggest commitment to climate change in history and proposes to reduce carbon emissions by 40% in ten years.

Other good stuff includes reducing healthcare costs with prescriptions and backing up Obamacare. It's also paid for by taxing cooperations.

Not legislative, but Biden has now just issued an executive order forgiving $10-$20k in student loan debt. If you make under $125K single or $250k married you get $10k. If you have a Pell Grant you may qualify for up to $20k.

Source

It cannot be understated how important this is, because our Congress is in gridlock due to extreme partisan infighting. In fact we've probably gotten used to not getting things done. Many of those things I listed are by no means perfect or enough and are the product of compromise. Still, a lot of good has happened in this past year in terms of legislation that will make things better.

To top it all off, Democrats are committed to protecting abortion rights. I don't expect everyone to suddenly love Biden or not continue to have legitimate criticism. I'm still upset they have not protected voting rights and yet I just want people to consider voting for Democrats this November. If we increase the Senate majority and hold the house, we can do so much more.

#biden administration #democrats #politics #congress #midterm elections #legislation

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Written In 2014 Masterlist

as the night gets older of you i grow fonder (ao3) - softirwin Luke/Ashton, Michael/Calum T, 9k

Summary: Luke’s eight when Ashton moves in next door.

(shamelessly half-based off the video for 'you belong with me')

before you came i lost my head (ao3) - superultra Luke/Ashton N/R, 3k

Summary: you make my thighs tremble and my brain cloud up and i know the sun is ninety-two million nine-hundred-sixty thousand miles away but it feels closer when you look at me like that

Falling All Over The Place (ao3) - makingdemands Michael/Calum, Luke/Ashton T, 21k

Summary: Michael gets a new phone and also a cat and he tries to get Ashton to pick him up but he texts the wrong number. Then maybe he keeps texting the wrong number. Nobody is punk rock and everyone's sexualities are ambiguous.

Florecita (ao3) - merlypops Michael/Ashton E, 14k

Summary: Ashton and Michael's love is like the sea - rough at times and calm at others, but always there. Always.

greet another door that opens in (ao3) - mockturtletale Luke/Calum/Ashton E, 9k

Summary: The photographer directs Luke to stand between them, maybe to offset the pinching fight that’s broken out, or maybe for some value of aesthetic that Luke can’t see because he’s in the picture.

I'll Wrap My Arms Around You Now (ao3) - nic_96 Luke/Ashton, Michael/Calum T, 13k

Summary: He remembers feeling the material against his bare stomach, he remembers taking his arm that had been wrapped around the duvet and ran it over his stomach. He felt [i]podgy[/i]. He wasn't fat, Michael knew that, of course he did, he just, his stomach wasn't flat or muscular, and when he was on his side like that with his knees tucked up it flabbed a bit and that shouldn't have been a big deal cause you know, it's just the position he's lying in, but it was a big deal, it [i]bugged him[/i].

or

The one where Michael is very insecure about his body and stops letting Calum cuddle him but Calum like to cuddle, cuddling is very important to their relationship and Calum is cuddle deprived and frustrated and Luke knows too much and Ashton is adorable.

I Wouldn't Know What to Say If I Had You (ao3) - bitscrawford (orphan_account) Luke/Ashton E, 3k

Summary: “Can’t we just… shower together or sumthin’?”

Ashton’s brow furrows and he turns to look at Luke. “Are you serious?”

“Can’t two bros shower together without it being gay?”

Let Me Play Among the Stars (ao3) - gravityinglass Michael/Calum G, 4k

Summary: Michael always had a goddamn unfair advantage, Calum thought. He’d practically been raised to this, and he always rubbed it in whenever he won and the rest of them were still struggling through the course.

“Fuck you, Michael,” he yelled, as Michael sailed past the row of trees they’d chosen for their finishing line. “Fuck you too, Marziale!”

Michael just smiled and waved, he and his dragon doing loop de loops in celebration. Marziale threw her head back and roared, flapping her large blue wings.

“Bloody dragon-born,” Ashton called. He and Aria were struggling through the rock-pillar weave. Tight turns were never their strength. “I vote we disqualify him next time.”

--

Or, 5 Seconds of Summer are dragonriders on patrol.

my heart radio is set to explode (ao3) - horriblekids Luke/Calum, Michael/Ashton T, 15k

Summary: Five times everyone thought Luke and Calum were dating and then one time where they actually are.

Luke puts up an ad for a roommate-slash-bandmate online and Calum's the only one who responds. He turns out not to be a serial killer, though.

Pretty Boy Don't Get Hurt (ao3) - orphan_account Luke/Ashton G, 4k

Summary: When Luke was four he didn't understand how the world worked.

stop the world 'cause i wanna (get off with you) (ao3) - lucasfletcher Michael/Calum M, 3k

Summary: To: Calum im feeling terrible cheer me up and by that i mean send me a dick pic

It’s definitely not weird Michael’s still texting his one night stand.

Tech Support (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) Luke/Ashton T, 20k

Summary: "So… what’re you wearing, Luke?”

“Um… jeans?” he answers, sounding more than a little confused. “And a blue shirt with the Apple logo on it… it’s the uniform, so.”

Or, Ashton frequently calls tech support just to flirt with the charming voice on the other end.

this world's an ugly place but you're so beautiful (ao3) - 5_es_oh_es (YouMakeMyHeartCry) Luke/Ashton T, 14k

Summary: Going to this party was probably the stupidest thing Luke had ever done.

Or, Luke is bullied and nobody really likes him but he goes to a party and everything changes. Well, he almost gets beaten to death but at least he has friends now.

Treat me like a ragdoll (or treat me like a prince) (ao3) - kittenmichael Calum/Ashton N/R, 4k

Summary: It had taken Calum ages to convince his boyfriend to act out something he’d secretly been fantasizing about since he was sixteen and tired of the standard porn videos Michael kept wanking to. Eventually, Ashton agreed to it because Calum had started calling him daddy without having to get asked twice.

“Hardcore?”

Calum had imagined what it felt like to be a sex doll over a thousand times and the thought of actually finding out excited him in ways normal sex failed to. Of course, he loved making love to Ashton, but if he could get a little more than that then he would not refuse.

“Hardcore.”

we know this is the way it's supposed to be (ao3) - softirwin Michael/Calum, Luke/Ashton T, 4k

Summary: Calum's always the first person Michael rings in an emergency.

Like right now, for example. Right now's an emergency.

"What the fuck do you want, Clifford?" Calum groans, voice tinny through the shitty phone line, but he's picked up after the first ring so Michael knows he doesn't mean it.

"I need help," Michael says, trying to stop the phone from slipping down his chest from where it’s pressed between his shoulder and his ear. "Green, blue or black?"

with a feeling i'll forget, i'm in love now (ao3) - orphan_account OT4 M, 2k

Summary: Ashton had never really been nurtured in the way a child should be.

When his father had walked out on them at such a young age, Ashton had to step up and be the man of his house, helping bring in money and helping to raise his two younger siblings. He wasn't unloved or treated unfairly by his mother, quite the opposite, but she had never had the time to coddle him the way he craved.

or, an Ashton-centric ot4

With Nothing But This Little Spark (ao3) - makingdemands Luke/Ashton, Michael/Calum G, 3k

Summary: Everybody is born with lyrics from their soulmate's favorite song tattooed somewhere on their body. Ashton kind of hates his.

you are, by far, the brightest star i've ever seen (ao3) - superultra Luke/Ashton N/R, 1k

Summary: luke's never been in love before, but every time he meets ashton's eyes he feels like all of the calcium in his bones is dissolving

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5sos #2014fics #2014fics masterlist #masterlists

[stories-from-the-batcave]

Jason & Dick Fic Rec List

Hi y’all and welcome to this week’s fanfiction recommendation list! As voted by our followers this weeks fics focus on the platonic relationship between Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. As always there will be absolutely no bat*est. I enjoyed compiling this list, and I didn’t have look far beyond my own bookmarks to find these ten stories, so I can wholeheartedly promote each of them. If you have a theme you’d like to be considered for another rec list feel free to drop it in our askbox. 

Here are this week’s recommended fanfictions!

Carry by Ptelea

4k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Jason

“Whoever said, "He ain't heavy, he's my brother," didn't have to haul you around.”

To Reconcile by CasualDanger

2k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Dick & Jason

““Babs slapped me at your funeral.” Jason goes to laugh, but it’s just a cough and his mouth barely even twitches up. “She hated me in that moment. I mean, really, really hated me, like I did Talia after I found out Damian had died. And I wondered,” his voice cracks, eyes glassy now, “did you hate anyone when I was gone? Because I was gone?””

I’ve Forgotten The Chemistry of Your Company by ryoku

45k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships: Dick & Jason

As far as Jason knew, Grayson hadn't ventured out of Bludhaven since Bruce's disappearing act six months ago, but if Nightwing's mess kept getting in the Red Hood's way, he was damn well going to deal with it himself. The trick was avoiding getting dragged into Nightwing's gravity. Dick has always had a way of making all of Jason's old wounds new again, and as Jason figures out, Dick is hardly in ideal form either.

Notes: This fic is set in the Arkham games continuity

Freaky Friday Came Early by Anduril_Narsil549

20k+ | T+ | Ongoing, 9/? | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Jason, Dick & Jason & Tim & Damian & Bruce, Tim & Dick & Jason & Damian, Tim & Damian

“"Nightwing, you are clearly not fine. Your emotional outbursts--"

"Emotional outbursts? I'll show you emotional--"

"Are reminiscent of Hood's antics."

Dick felt Tim shift his attention back to him, as if waiting for some response to that. Jason's--it had to be Jason, right? Even though his voice was so strange? Jason's response to Damian precluded Dick from saying anything.

"What do you mean reminiscent? How can I be reminiscent of myself?"

"Nightwing, you're--"

"Shut it brat. Hey Nightwing?"

Dick lifted his face to look over toward Jason. "Yeah?"

He froze. He was looking at...

Himself?

And the look on his face was exactly what he was feeling right now. Pure, unadulterated confusion. In a split moment, it became adulterated with horror as the realization dawned.

"Shi--"

AKA Jason and Dick swap bodies, and this fic is purely to enjoy the chaos that would ensue XD”

They can keep their treasure series by WorkingChemistry

2k+ | G | Ongoing | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Jason

(From the first story) “Everyone has a Jason but Dick. He’s trying to understand, but he’s afraid he’s just straight up jealous. Then a new Jason appears.

Of all the things Dick thought he might be when he grew up, a mama wasn’t one of them.”

exactly how this grace thing works by iran

22k+ | G | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Jason, implied Bruce/Selina, past Dick/Barbara

“Dick gets de-aged. You'd think this would be a routine thing.”

When I Was by CloudieDraws

10k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | Major Character Death

Relationships: Dick & Jason

“When Jason was three years old, his dad took him to the circus. It's the best day of his life.

When Jason is three years old, he hides under the bleachers and watches an older boy play with a little elephant.

When Jason is three years old, he finds family.”

The Blame Game by DawnsEternalLight @preciousthingsareprecious

5k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Jason

“While on a case together Jason gets hurt, and Dick realizes he's sicker than he thought he was.”

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

116k+ | NR | Complete | NA | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: NA

“Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern.

aka; How Dick Grayson finds out Jason Todd is alive. A story about healing.”

The Streets Are Listening by Alfreds_Mustache

14k+ | M | Ongoing, 6/? | NA | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships: Dick & Jason, Stephanie & Dick

���Red Hood is in the midst of bringing down Gotham's newest, most powerful crime organization--the Luciano family. While following a valuable lead, he finds a thirteen-year-old kid covered in blood and passed out in an alleyway.

With unexpected help from this inner-city street rat named "Dick", Jason begins to uncover the disturbing lengths at which the Lucianos will go to get what they want... and, even more unexpectedly, how Dick fits into their plans.”

#dick grayson #jason todd #batfam #batbros #nightwing #red hood #batman #batfam fanfiction #fic rec list #dick grayson and jason todd #fic rec #mod em

[melatovnik]

hi, can u rec other sbwy fics?

yes i most certainly can!

below under the cut is a selection of very good sbwy (and sgwy) fics, i.e., wangxian fics where wwx experiences compulsory heterosexuality. by no means is it a comprehensive list of all the excellent fics of this genre, because i'm a super slow reader and simply haven't gotten to them all yet, but these are just the ones i've read and enjoyed so far. of course, mind all tags/content warnings etc you know what's up

~ the Straight Boy Wei Ying universe series by raitala | rated E | 36K words total | i know this ask was prompted by my earlier rec of this series but i'll include it here anyway. a very charming wonderful story, with extremely massively hot sex scenes

Sit down next to me | 7K words

Lan Zhan has been in love with his tragically straight best friend Wei Ying forever. So what if some girl says Wei Ying is a bad kisser? Lan Zhan has to prove to Wei Ying that this is incorrect. Because Lan Zhan is a good friend. He out does himself.

If I hadn't seen such riches | 29K words

Sequel to "Sit down next to me" - if you haven't read this all you need to know is that Wei Ying thinks he is straight. He just really likes his best friend Lan Zhan. Who is incidentally a really great kisser. Who also made him come in his pants one time. Who also has a *really* big dick, which Wei Ying sucked one time, but, like, in an experimental way, not in a gay way. They are just really good friends, right? Lan Zhan is the best. Lan Zhan is crying inside.

~ Keep Up by mimilamp | rated E | 27K words | i actually just read this one today and wwhfoohgkhdghihHHHHHHhghhhhhhgh 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 INSTANT FAVE. MUST READ.

“She was going to kiss me,” Wei Ying says, muffled, into his hands.

Lan Zhan makes sure he keeps his breaths even. “Hm,” he says. Wei Ying looks up at him, wild: a little tipsy, perhaps. Confused, in a panic. His mouth is red like he’s been kissed—he hasn’t. He’s a lip biter, has a habit of picking at his dry lips, the winter sores at the corner of his mouth. It drives Lan Zhan to madness. He dreams of Wei Ying’s puffy mouth, often, sometimes with the real Wei Ying in a sleeping bag on the floor next to his bed. On mornings like those he wakes up in a cloud of embarrassment—hobbling to the bathroom at dawn, running a loud shower to hide the sounds. Wei Ying sleeps on.

“How do I—” Wei Ying starts, stops. He then lets out a single laugh, another. He says: “Oh my god. How do I kiss? Lan Zhan, how do I kiss?”

*

Or: Wei Ying has a girlfriend now. Wei Ying doesn't want his best friend to lag behind.

~ A Brilliant Idea by FrameofMind | rated E | 25K words | good for you wei ying

The one where Wei Ying (straight) and Lan Zhan (gay) make a shared tinder account to save money, because Wei Ying has brilliant ideas.

(Wei Ying has terrible ideas.)

~ worth it for the feeling by occultings | rated E | 8K words | they're both girls in this one! "straight" girl wei ying 🥰

“I’ve never gotten off with another person,” Wei Ying says that night, apropos of nothing.

~ ready to run by detectorist | rated E | 21K words | really really enjoyed the plot and atmosphere and everything in this story

“You should make a Tinder account for campaigning,” Nie Huaisang says.

Wei Ying chokes out, “What?”

“Sounds like an absolutely terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng says flatly.

“No, it’s a great idea!” Nie Huaisang insists. “You just swipe right on everyone and then send them a message about how they should vote for you. You’re hot, Wei Ying! People will definitely match with you and then you can swoop in and hit them with the politics!”

“I don’t even have Tinder,” Wei Ying protests. He’d downloaded the app in first year but had quickly deleted it after a girl responded to his message of wanna get a drink with yeah sure, what time?

“That can be easily fixed,” Nie Huaisang says.

—

Wei Ying downloads Tinder to help him campaign for his student union election. He gets a little more than he bargained for.

~ drop the game by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 28K words | cheerleader wwx + jock lwj + fake dating + practice kissing + insane sexual tension = me, flattened like a cartoon character after getting run over by a truck

Wei Ying grabs a pen from Lan Zhan’s desk, curling his legs into a lotus pose under the arms of the chair so he can easily spread the journal out across his lap. Even upside down, Lan Zhan can read his large, messy characters scrawled across the top: Lan Zhan + Wei Ying’s Rules for Dating.

Perhaps this was a bad idea.

~ big hands (i know you're the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | WHOOF 🥵

“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”

He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.

~ Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | LAN ZHAN???? BETHROTHED???? NOT TO WEI YING??????? it's less likely than you think! canonverse casefic, featuring tons of pining and wwx taking outrageous liberties with lwj's person, as is his right

Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”

~ cherry ass wei ying (Chapter 3 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated E

wei ying is so straight he sucks lan zhan's fingers about it.

~ all(e)y (Chapter 11 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated E

prompt fill on twitter for straight boy wei ying + fake dating that ended up being too long for twitter so now it lives here in stupid silly shame. sorry the fake dating is a complete flyover state in this. to make up for it, i wrote out an entire blowjob for some reason.

~ lan zhan has fallen in fuck-love with the straight toad boy (Chapter 14 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated M | there is no chapter summary provided by the author. the title says it all, really

~ wei wuxian loves mysteries! (Chapter 15 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated G | a canonverse character exploration of wwx, set pre-CR (before wangxian first meet). soooo good

~ the mall that has it all by saltyfeathers | rated E | 8K words | 😳 wrow

She introduced herself in the food court, breathless after sprinting across it in Lan Zhan’s direction and vaulting over a table only to crash into the seat across from her, ask, “Can I have a sip?”, spring forward with both elbows on the table to wrap her burgundy lips around Lan Zhan’s smoothie straw, wrinkle her nose, and say, “What is that, kale? Not really my thing, as like, a mall goth. Oh!” A pleased, chaotic exhale. “My name’s Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan said, after taking a moment to fully process the last forty-five seconds, “What?”

or;

mall goth au

~ I Wish You Would by brooklinegirl | rated E | 52K words | lan zhan fucks guys, wei ying pines, and lan zhan also pines

Lan Zhan takes a breath. His hands are in fists on his thighs. He stares down at them hopelessly, then carefully unclenches them, one finger at a time, before taking another breath and reaching for his lukewarm tea. He'll go out, tomorrow. Maybe in the late afternoon. Something quick. Something easy. He'll text his brother first, the short note of when he should be home, so he'll know to track him. He'll be fine, just like he said.

~ all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words | hot hot hot! and a classic

Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

~ dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | THE comphet gloryhole fic

Wei Ying discovers himself.

~ wanna feel a different kinda tension by verseau | rated E | 10K words | THE comphet watching-porn-together-and-also-wwx-jerks-lwj-off-with-his-own-freshly-used-fleshlight fic

Four times Lan Zhan walks in on his roommate masturbating.

that's all for now! happy october!

#mdzs #fic rec

[bitchesgetriches]

Noble citizens of the aspirationally decadent Conglomerated Nation of Bitches Get Riches: let’s have a lil’ chat, shall we? It’s been a while since we chatted about our favorite topic: ourselves!

We hope you’ve enjoyed season two of the Bitches Get Riches podcast. Recording it was a bright spot for us during this dumpster fire of a year, so thank you all for listening.

As we wrap up another season, we had a few notes to share with you. Including some more personal reflections about how we’re doing, where we’re at, and what the future holds.

Let’s get into it!

Merch is back online

If you visited our Etsy shop in the last few months, you might’ve noticed the physical merch—tee shirts and coffee mugs and tote bags and such—wasn’t listed anymore. Basically, when lockdowns started, it caused a lot of disruption and delays on orders. Not wanting people to be stuck waiting for stuff, we decided to take it all offline, and only offer digital merch.

As of today, we’ve reactivated everything! But please keep in mind that there may still be delays, depending on what’s happening in the world! We appreciate your patience, if patience is indeed called for.

Visit Our Etsy Shop

Season one transcripts

Next, we wanted to let you guys know that we now have transcripts available for season one of the Bitches Get Riches podcast!

We’re committed to making BGR as accessible as we possibly can. We know that some people can’t hear, or struggle to absorb information aurally, so transcripts were something we’ve always wanted to offer.

… But, you know, at the end of the day, we’re just two people! Transcribing and editing audio is time- and labor-intensive work, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day for us to do it along with the fifteen million other things we have to do.

We were able to offer season one transcripts thanks entirely to A Purple Life, a peerlessly talented and wonderful fellow blogger who selflessly made it happen. (If you don’t already read her stuff, you’ve already disobeyed us, as we commanded you to in 10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now. And for that, we’re strongly considering smiting you.)

We’re incredibly thankful to Purple for her hard work on this. But we also feel strongly that this DESERVES to be paid work! So the release of season two transcripts is dependent on getting more Patreon donors to offset funding it.

Season 1, Episode 1: “Should I Tell My Boss I’m Looking for Another Job?”

Season 1, Episode 2: “How Should I Behave on My First Day at Work?”

Season 1, Episode 3: “My Parents Have Bad Credit. Should I Help by Co-signing Their Mortgage?”

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Season 1, Episode 5: “I Don’t Love My Job, but It Pays Well. Should I Quit—or Tough It Out?”

Season 1, Episode 6: “I Lent My Boyfriend Money. He Took It to a Casino.”

Season 1, Episode 7: “I’m Terrible at Budgeting. Do I Suck It Up—Or Is There Another Way?”

Season 1, Episode 8: “My Mother Demands Information About My One-Night Stands.”

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

Season 1, Episode 10: “I Want a Pedigreed Dog. She Wants a Rescue Mutt. It Turned into a Fight… and the Fight Got Ugly.”

Season 1, Episode 11: “I Feel Cornered by a Friend Who Keeps Asking to Borrow Money.”

Season 1, Episode 12: “Should I Believe the Fear-Mongering about Another Recession?”

Bonus Episode: Merry Bitchmas! The 2019 Star-Studded Holiday Spectacular

For transcripts, scroll to the bottom of each episode and click “episode transcript.” Or read them directly in the podcast player of your choice!

Podcast reviews

We also super wanted to thank all the people who’ve etched their names in blood upon the dusty pages of our dark grimoire written reviews for the show on Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, and other places!

We are beyond flattered by the kind things you guys have said about us. Like MoonPetalLily, who described us as “the snarky older sisters [they] wish [they] had.”

FunshineKelly said our “advice helped [them] land a $20k raise and a signing bonus without crying even a little bit.” GOOD! We don’t support tears in the workplace! Not even in the sanctity of your car parked way in the corner of the parking lot. Keep it together!

And God bless MelHubbs, who said, and I quote:

They’re prepared, and still relaxed; informative, and still light-hearted; comforting, and still sexual. It’s everything you could ever want in a podcast, in an internet personality, in your sisters-in-arms against the terrible war between capitalism and what humans actually need to survive & thrive. One of my favorite things about them is that they don’t have any corporate sponsors or ads, so you know what they’re saying is what they mean, not what their advertisers want them to say. If you’re able, support them on Patreon! If you’re not, listen to their podcast, take their advice to heart, reflect on your options, make your moves, then, with your newfound financial independence, become a patreon!

MelHubbs, you joyful sonnet!

Your review is so good that it reads suspiciously like something we paid you to write! But we’re too cheap for that—IT REAL!

Bitches Get Riches at the crossroads

All right. Time to level with you guys.

In keeping with 2020’s overarching theme (“everything is pure shit”), this year has become a real “shit or get off the pot” moment for the two of us.

Although I’m comfortable and doing fine, Piggy is still unemployed. And last week she received the last unemployment check she’s entitled to. It sucks. And it’s scary.

Being a partnership is awesome in almost every way. But one way that it sucks is that we have to earn double the amount of money to be truly profitable! (And no, before you ask, it’s not possible for us to only pay Piggy. Believe me, that was our original plan—but it turns out that’s not allowed in a 50/50 legal partnership. We must pay ourselves equally, or Uncle Sam will spank us. And he doesn’t do it in the sexy way—only the traumatic way!)

Piggy is doing okay for now. She has freelancing work, and an intact emergency fund. But understandably, anxiety and worry take their toll. She’s pushing through it, but it’s hard. Creativity and passion can’t thrive for long without some measure of safety and stability.

During these scary times, our Patreon community has been a lifeline. As more and more of you have joined us, it’s slowly crept up from grocery money to grocery and utility bill money! So thank you, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts thank you to those who’ve stepped up and joined.

But we’re kind of at a crossroads. Because of Piggy’s situation, we really need it to become “paying the mortgage” money. And it’s gotta get there pretty fast. Otherwise, it’s just not fair to ask Piggy to invest so much of her time in Bitches Get Riches, when she could be taking on higher paying freelancing work to keep herself afloat.

And trust me, you do not want a BGR that’s too Kitty-heavy. I am longwinded af, slowly losing my abilities to think and spell, and take every possible detour to inject disgusting sexual comments wherever they are least germane (although idk maybe you’re here for that).

Our new goal for ourselves, and you

With all of that in mind, we have a new goal: to produce season three of our podcast, we need 500 total Patreon donors.

Today we have… 294. So that’s, uhhhhh… a really ambitious goal!

It’s probably too ambitious. We’re probably gonna fail. Who cares, it’s 2020! The planet is on fire and god is already dead, so we have no reason not to give it our all!

We are leaving this in your hands. We—Piggy and I—believe that the world would be a better place if people could hear reliable, relatable financial wisdom funded by regular people, untainted by corporate sponsors with deep pockets who want us to push their capitalist crap upon you. And 294 of you have already demonstrated that you believe that too. Thank you, thank you, infinity thank yous to all of you who are already a part of our Patreon community. You are shining stars that smell faintly of vanilla.

For the rest of you: if you like what we do and you want us to keep doing it, please show us that you believe in it too. You can do that by joining us at the Bitches Get Riches Patreon.

We hope to be back soon for a third season. Until then, stay safe, stay sane, wear your masks, triple-check that you’re registered to vote, and save room for dessert. (What’s for dessert? So glad you asked—it’s the rich!)

For now, Bitches OUUUTTTTT!

Join the Bitches on Patreon

Join the Bitches on Patreon

#etsy #merch #bitches get riches #patreon #donations #personal finance #financial advice #money #adulting #money advice #advice #adulting advice

[k-s-morgan]

Firstly, that snippet 🥲❤️ 10/10, thank you. Secondly, you mentioned that you might have the readers decide at the end of the month something about how the chapters are divided up/one half being released earlier than the other. Is that notion still in effect? I’m curious what your readers will say. Do you have a preference? And if you do update it this month with the full chapter not complete, does that mean you will update another work before going back to WHGTB? Or will your focus in the coming weeks be primarily on WHGTB? Also I completely forgot: no matter how it’s divided up, is this the last chapter?

Thank you, I’m happy you liked it! This was an important scene for Tom and his development, although it technically started back in the memory with Dudley. I hope you enjoy the chapter when it’s posted!

As for dividing it or publishing it later: I got many messages about it and most readers voted to wait for a whole chapter! So this is the approach I’m going to take. I hope those who wanted half of the chapter will be pleased with a snippet - I decided to post the whole long scene for this reason. Personally, I prefer waiting, too, because I can’t feel 100% satisfied with a chapter when I don’t think that enough events happened in it. For 20K, all we see is Tom mourning and growing, and to me, that’s just not enough material. 

If the chapter still grows, I’ll publish what I have in about two weeks, but Harry will be definitely back at that point, so it’s something. And no, this isn’t the last chapter. If I still end up dividing it into parts, I’ll have to increase the chapter count by one. I’ll also focus on WHGTB because I want to complete this arc fully))

#my fics #tomarry

[maxbegone]

HERE WE GO, HERE WE GO! 

Another community fic rec has been long overdue, but we’re back! Thanks to everyone who voted on the theme for this one, and after a near tie, the result is: post-canon. So many new fics have been published since the last one, so let’s spread some love once again!

What does “post-canon” mean?

Anything that takes place after the main story ends. It can be immediately after or several years down the line.

NOTES:

Here is a link to the fic rec form. 

We’re collecting two fics with each submission this time around in attempt to prevent any duplicates, labeled as both “primary” and “secondary.” This is the link to the spreadsheet in case you want to take a look and see what fics have already been chosen. 

FAQ:

1. You do not have to submit a fic that is centered around David and Patrick. You can submit any pairing you’d like.

2. Fic length does not matter. It’s 20k? Awesome!

3. Anything post-canon can be submitted. 

4. Please make sure you read everything you need to fill out in the form.

If you have any questions at all, please reach out! 

If you’d like to check out the first two rounds, here are the links:

First Round

Second Round: AUs

Please submit by Tuesday, February 16th!

UPDATE: SUBMISSIONS ARE NOW DUE MARCH 8th! More information here.

#sc community fic rec #schitt's creek #schitts creek #sc fic rec #sc fic recs #schitt's creek fic #schitt's creek fics #sc fic

[space-malex]

There's lots of back and forth on who Victor should be with, but all s1 and s2 showed me is that Victor isn't cut out to be anyone's partner at this point in his life. He did Mia dirty and couldn't even properly apologize for it in s2 and the Victor who actually prioritized Benji's happiness and tried to take all responsibility for their kiss with Derek so they can keep dating disappeared in s2. He couldn't even articulate that breaking Benji's trust was wrong with spilling his secret to Rahim, let alone understand him at any point during the season. I don't know if it's supposed to be an international character flaw to be worked on or if the writers think having everything from Victor's POV is a good excuse, but it bothers me a lot. I really thought Malex was the height of showrunner bias and uneven writing, but Venji is so much worse. Alex at least always had a POV and a well-defined personality I could easily empathize with. You can't pile a ton of trauma on a character and never explore it, especially if it's supposed to be half of your main ship. I don't know how reflective a Twitter poll is of the audience split (the one they did on Instagram was much more overwhelmingly in favour of Venji, but they also don't show how many people voted), but it's not surprising that a dynamic that was basically written to be pretty much perfect so far and a fun alternative for the main ship's drama is appealing to so many people. They could have easily sold Venji better this season as a couple. They can lay a better foundation for future romantic them if they spend real time together platonically in s3 and stop putting each other on pedestals. They can also ruin what's appealing about Vahim with drama in s3. It's anyone's guess how s3 is going to play out. All I know is if Venji is still the endgame, I don't want a redo of s1 with Victor trying to work harder at a relationship he ultimately doesn't want to be in than he ever tried to make it work with the guy he's supposedly in love with. That's a recipe for disaster. A lot of shows are guilty of never showing us an endgame ship actually working on screen before putting them back together at the end of the show. I really want better here.

A lot to unpack

Victor did apologize to Mia, said he loves her and never meant to hurt her. It’s a bit complicated because Victor never went into the relationship with bad intentions and it took him the majority of the season to come to terms with his sexuality. Yes, he should’ve ended it right away when he figured it out, and he shouldn’t have kissed Benji when he was still with her. But still, there is a fine line here because there’s only so much of an apology Victor can give without it feeling like he’s apologizing for who he is, for being gay, and that’s not something he needs to feel sorry for. I think we should also keep in mind that Mia had her little thing with Andrew at the same time and never told Victor about it. She didn’t cheat or anything (or when he kissed her she stopped it) but she had obvious feelings for Andrew that she hadn’t dealt with. Luckily they finally got resolved in s2 but they were definitely there when she was still with Victor.

Now, what is it with this Victor slander in my house? He and Benji were pretty much constantly arguing or making up, but I’ve rarely seen people apologize to someone else as many times as Victor did to Benji about things that weren’t even his fault. He spent all season apologizing for his mother, even though he has no control over what she thinks or does, but also assured Benji that she is trying and that she is getting better. And he would know that better than Benji because he knows his mother and Benji does not. Or apologizing for not being ready to come out to everyone. And then turned around and did it anyway, which was what he wanted to do, but it also felt a lot about Benji and something he was doing for him as well. Which, fine, it’s Victor’s decision and he didn’t regret doing it. But then when there were consequences that hurt him by his team being homophobic, Benji first shrugs them off and then encourages Victor to quit the team so that he’s not around homophobic people. Which okay, first of all homophobes exist everywhere but I digress. Victor was miserable after he quit the basketball team. It’s not actually what he wanted to do, and he loves basketball, and Benji had no respect for that either. He acted like basketball with some kind of leftover heteroness that needed to be expelled from Victor. And he talked shit about it with his friends right in front of Victor. In fact, every time Victor tried to express himself, he would be essentially shut down by Benji and end up apologizing. Until episode 6 with the birthday and episode 8 after Isabel caught them together.

So look, I don’t think Benji had to tell Victor anything about his alcoholism because it’s his personal business and it’s really difficult to talk about something like that and it was definitely up to him when he wanted to open up. But then he turned around and was basically pissed at Victor for knowing even though Victor found out by accident. And then he refused to talk about it. And then when Victor expressed his hurt that Benji didn’t want to talk to him, Benji responded by completely attacking Victor and straight up saying it was exhausting work being with him bc he’s got a religious homophobic mom and is newly gay. Like….what?? 

Benji judged Victor for 1) being a jock 2) his mother and 3) being a baby gay. Victor never once judged Benji for his alcohol problems, he was just hurt Benji didn’t share with him. He didn’t judge Benji for anything else for that matter. He definitely shouldn’t have told Rahim about Benji, even though I do understand he needed someone to open up to and he trusts Rahim, it was a violation of Benji’s trust and not okay. But that’s like…the only bad thing Victor has done all season.

As for the pov thing- it wouldn’t be such a big deal if they actually developed Benji as a character, which they have not. We get no moments of him where he’s not with Victor (except the one conversation with Isabel, which was about Victor). If you’re going to have a character not share about their life to the protagonist, you need to find another way to share it with the audience. It leads to a disconnect and lack of emotional investment in Benji for many people. The fact that I feel I know Rahim better after 5 episodes than I do Benji after 20 is saying something. But the writing has given Rahim development that it hasn’t given Benji. It’s not surprising a lot of people in the audience are feeling more connected to Rahim as a result. Polls are never the most reliable thing since it depends on who sees them and how many people (twitters was about 20k respondents iirc but no idea about ig). I see a lot of vahim shipping on twitter and ig, tumblr not so much. But I will say I’ve seen people coming around on vahim who are watching the season now, as opposed to the smaller number who immediately watched the moment it came out, went in shipping Victor and Benji and had a knee jerk reaction about the possibility of another romance for Victor.

This is not comparable to malex in any way so I have no clue why you’re bringing them up.

And personally, I was never invested in Victor and Benji’s relationship. Even in s1 I was like 🤷🏻‍♀️ And now, with or without vahim, I think Victor and Benji should break up. They’re just not a great couple and I feel like the show would do well to make it okay for your first relationship to not necessarily be right for you. Especially for a gay couple because that like…NEVER happens on tv. It doesn’t take anything away from what v*nji mean to each other. Sometimes people just aren’t compatible. I didn’t start shipping vahim bc of anything with v*nji directly, I just loved their dynamic. I love seeing Victor light up. I love seeing him comfortable instead of constantly feeling insecure and apologetic. To me, vahim connect in a way v*nji do not.

Victor did not develop feelings for Rahim just because he was having issues with Benji. Just like Benji did not develop feelings for Victor just because he was having issues with Derek. Implying that does a disservice to both relationships and kinda takes agency away from a character and their feelings. But I want him and Benji to end things for real before anything happens with Rahim. Which might mean trying to make it work for a while longer. 

We will see!!

#anon #shut up kelli #vahim #ship drama #lv discourse

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 05.2 | thomas jefferson

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

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

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

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

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudywlw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow  @siriusorionblackiii— hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And how do you spell that?"

"Like you've never written it before?"

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

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

"Your order will be out shortly."

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

"I'll keep it in mind."

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm-hmm."

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

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

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

"Enjoy your food, Secretary Jefferson."

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

"Gave it my best guess."

"I'm sure you did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, please."

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

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

"Oh, Y/N!"

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

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

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

"You and me both."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll need it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your prerogative, Doll."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But he's the candidate."

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

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

"Who said Thomas was the standard?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We'll see about that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What was zat?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I..."

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

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

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

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

"Somethin' like that."

She furrowed her brow. "Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't tempt me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Glad you follow.".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widened. "How old is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. "Do I, now?"

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

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

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

"You think I sound like that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How truly self-sacrificing."

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

Her eyebrows shot up. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's nothin'."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widened. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn't respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm just saying!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd really rather not say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Once or twice, I guess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds like an admission--"

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

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

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

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

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

"This sounds like suspicious logic."

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

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

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

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

"Perfect."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?" Her voice was quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She checked her watch again. 9:56 PM.

The diner closed at 10.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thomas?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not this coffee."

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

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

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

"Somethin' like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of you or of her?" she teased.

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

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

He shrugged, unabashed. "More or less."

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

"You could never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it that good?"

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

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

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

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

"Hurtful."

"I'm sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get your own mother figure, Jefferson."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He let out a shaky sigh. "Never honored her memory. Didn't go to her grave or talk to her family until years after she was gone."

"You were trying to cope. That's all you can do. Everyone deals with loss differently."

"But she didn't deserve that," he pressed. She creased her forehead; concern rested in her eyes.

"But what about what you deserved, Thomas?" He cocked his head to one side; his gaze was brimming with inquisition. "Don't you deserve to take care of your own needs? Do you really think she would've wanted you falling apart?"

"Sweetheart, 'm not the one who was killed."

"You don't deserve to suffer just because you're the one who lived."

"But I shoulda been there, at her funeral, at her grave." He drew in a shaky breath. "Feels like I abandoned her."

You did what you needed to do," Y/N insisted. "Wherever she is now, whatever afterlife you believe in, or don't believe in, she obviously hasn't been forgotten."

He nodded, sniffed as he pulled back. He rubbed the corner of his eye, taking a breath, and she didn't comment on it. He ran a hand through his hair as he forced his composure, restored his easygoing manner. His grin was back as though it'd never been gone. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

They shared a smile for a moment, and he pursed his lips. "Can I... ask you not to do anythin' with this?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "What d'you mean?"

"We were never married, so almost no one knows about her, other than close friends and family." He sighed. "'S not information you can find online. And I just..." He trailed off as he looked up at her, tone tentative. "I know you're a journalist 'n' all, but please, can I ask you not to take this to the press?"

While anxiety was clear in his gaze, her eyes were wide, surprised that he thought he even needed to ask. "Of course, Thomas. I would never. It's safe with me."

"Thank you." A beat passed as she just stared into his eyes; with how he was day-to-day, with what she knew of him before, she could've never guessed how much pain he carried with him. He exhaled softly, gave her a grateful smile.

His trance seemed to break a few seconds later when she reached out to lightly squeeze his hand. He shifted in his seat, glanced at the clock above the kitchen door. "Shit, sweetheart, it's almost 10:40. You've gotta be dyin' to kick me outta here."

An apologetic grin accompanied his words, but as he searched her expression for some kind of response, Y/N recognized his question for what it was -- if he'd really wanted to go, he'd have already been pulling himself up, but did she want him to stay?

She shrugged, wearing a kind smile. "I mean, until our final customer is gone, I can't technically close up." He raised an eyebrow. "So really, I'm in no position to be kicking you out."

He shook his head, amusement slowly being restored to his features. "Really, now? An hour ago, you couldn't wait to get rid of me."

"Maybe I was just a worse employee an hour ago."

He laughed. "Aw, someone's gettin' attached, huh?"

She deadpanned as she met his shining eyes. His tone was nothing but teasing. "I take it all back. Get out. Go on."

"Aw, c'mon, sugar, I'm just kiddin'," he pleaded, though he showed no traces of regret. Y/N fixed him with a tired stare.

"You know where to find the door."

"Now, really?" he pouted, brow knit, and she rolled her eyes. "What'd I do to deserve this, hm?"

She scowled, though the amusement she tried to hold back lay clearly in her soft gaze. "Do you really want an answer to that?"

He seemed to think better of it at her words, and quickly changed tacts. "What about the rest of my coffee?"

"Dumping it out. No problem." She shrugged, and he huffed, giving her a fully manufactured look of disappointment.

"Thought we were connectin', and now this is how you treat me?" She held her skeptical stare, and a grin broke through his facade. "Now, what's Mira gonna think when I tell her you kicked out her favorite customer?"

Y/N regarded him wearily, in no mood for his schtick. His eyes were gleaming; he looked up at her with warmth coloring his gaze, and ultimately, when she found no malice in his stare, no ill intent, nothing but goodwill, she huffed.

"Fine. Whatever. Finish the coffee. In the meantime, since apparently, you're shamelessly becoming a parasite, I'm gonna get myself something to eat. You gonna want anything so I can save myself the extra trip?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Wouldn't mind another brownie."

"And now what's Mira gonna think when she realizes all of our bakery is gone tomorrow?" She folded her arms, turning his own words back on him, but he was unfazed.

"That you gave it to her favorite customer, of course."

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

AND AS THE night slowly stretched on, the pair went on like that for more than another hour, recounting their pasts to one another, each passing judgment on the terrible haircuts the other had in the 90s, reminiscing on college. Y/N was surprised to hear Thomas played the violin (she couldn't tell whether he was joking when he offered to play for her sometime); Thomas couldn't help but poke fun at her when he learned she wrote sappy poetry in high school (and in turn, she threatened again to kick him out). They always seemed to find an excuse for him to hang around just a little longer.

Eventually, midnight struck; both Y/N's and Thomas's attention was drawn to the little clock above the door that finally chimed.

They met each other's eyes for a moment, and while Y/N just waited expectantly, letting him make the call on his next move, Thomas sighed.

"I really should head out, sweetheart."

Y/N smiled softly; her teasing expression couldn't seem to mask the affection dancing in her eyes. "Finally. Can't close until you're outta here, remember? It's kinda rude that you didn't leave earlier, really."

He scoffed, despite that there was no real scorn in her gaze, and raised a brow. "Mm, and it was really rude of me to accept the coffee, and brownies, and leftovers you kept offerin' me every time I tried to leave."

"You didn't put up much of a fight, to be fair." She pursed her lips, giving him a pointed look, and he chuckled.

"Won't deny it."

She'd long since finished wiping everything down, including the dishes she'd been giving Thomas, and though she was far from pushing him out the door, she wasn't going to resist some much-needed sleep.

Thomas finally stood up from his stool, fished his wallet out of his coat pocket. "How much do I owe you?" He glanced back up from where he was leafing through bills, and Y/N shrugged, wearing a small smile.

"This one's on the house."

His eyebrows shot up. "You sure?"

"Mhm." She nodded, cracked a lopsided grin as she still leaned against the counter. "Consider it payback for the century-old book I've got stashed upstairs."

"Upstairs?" he repeated quizzically, and she nodded.

"Yeah, didn't I mention? This was the housing plan I figured out," she told him. "Mira cut me a deal in exchange for taking the late shift every night."

"Every night, huh?" he asked, mischief creeping into his expression. She raised a suspicious brow. "So you're tellin' me, if I was gonna show up at 9:58 next Friday--"

"Don't you dare!" she warned him, but when he laughed, his smile was contagious. "I'm gonna have to start closing up at 9:56 here on out."

"I can adjust." He sent her a wink before tucking his wallet back into his pocket, glancing out at the snowstorm beyond the store windows. Y/N was shivering just looking at it. He pursed his lips. "You sure you've got no to-go cups left?"

"No more coffee, Thomas," she said sternly, giving him a pointed look.

"Alright, alright! Geez," he laughed. "Guess I'll just have to show up tomorrow three minutes before openin' huh?"

She shrugged. "Be my guest; I don't work Saturday mornings."

"Noted. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out your schedule."

"That anxious to see me again?" She cocked her head to the side, smug, and he winked.

"Always." He exhaled softly before finally turning toward the exit. "I'll see you around?"

"You know where to find me." He nodded, chuckled as he tucked his hands in his pockets, burrowing into his coat as he neared the door. "G'night, Thomas."

He cast her one final glance over his shoulder, eyes shining. "Night, sweetheart."

She shuddered at the gust of cold air that entered the diner upon his exit, finally going to lock up the front, drawing the shades before she went up to her flat. The brownies she'd made were put away, the chairs were all up; she did one final, brief sweep of the place, and hit the light.

She couldn't deny her fatigue as she reached her apartment, locking the front door behind her, but after discarding her apron into her hamper, she made the executive decision that she needed to shower before she could go to sleep. She'd been going all day long and had begun to smell like a mix of old ham, coffee, and melted chocolate -- three good things in isolation, but not quite something she’d be purchasing as a Dior fragrance anytime soon.

She emerged from the shower less than half an hour later, and though it'd woken her up just a bit, it was nice to feel clean, putting on clean pajamas, being in her clean apartment.

She was just on the inoperational side of sleepy as she walked back to her room, yawning into one of her sweater paws, checking her phone once more for the night, going through the notifications from the past few hours.

She was already burrowed halfway under her blankets when she saw the message that made her freeze. It was on her Twitter account.

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: are you still up

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry about this

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: but my car won't start

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im still out in your parking lot

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: think the weather broke something in the engine

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry to ask this

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: but if you're awake, would u be willing to let me back in ?

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: just real quick i swear

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: please it's less than freezing out here

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry about this y/n

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: really i dont mean to take advantage of your hospitality

@Thomas_Jefferson is typing...

Her eyes widened; her eyebrows shot up. She was already in bed, she was dying to finally just get some sleep, but she couldn't just leave him out in the cold knowing she was the only one around to help him out. She sighed.

@Y/N_L/N sent: jesus christ, thomas stop rambling

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry

@Y/N_L/N sent: relax, ill come down to let you in now

She huffed as she pulled herself out of bed, bringing one blanket with her to the stairs, mildly bleary-eyed.

Once again, her phone pinged.

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: thank you

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: ill come to your door

Sure enough, when she made it down, shifted the blinds to peer through, ensure that it was actually Thomas and that she wasn't about to get abducted in her booty shorts and men's XL college sweatshirt, she saw him standing there, shivering, and her eyes widened. She rushed to unlock the front door, and Thomas didn't waste a second coming in.

"Jesus, sweetheart, I can't thank you enough." He let out a deep breath, seemingly reveling in the warmth of the room. She closed the door quickly behind him, though the wind certainly put up a fight. "'M so sorry about this. Really, if I could fix it now, I would, but I think somethin' in the motor froze while I was parked out there for a couple hours. I--"

"It's ok, Thomas," Y/N said softly, doing her best not to sound as though she was half asleep, and she pulled her blanket tighter around herself. "Really. I'd rather you not freeze to death; it'd put a bit of a damper on my career."

He grinned. "So self-centered."

She scowled. "Go back outside."

He laughed as he unbuttoned his coat, tucked his gloves in his pocket and withdrew his phone. "Did I wake you up?" He eyed her choice of attire dubiously, looking amused, and she shifted her blanket to cover her shorts.

"Nah, I was just on my phone in bed. You're fine."

"...Right." She ignored his disbelieving tone.

"How long were you out there for before you messaged me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He sighed.

"'Bout half an hour. 'M sorry, I couldn't take the cold any longer."

"Don't apologize, geez," she huffed. "You think I'd have rathered you stayed in your icebox of a car and said nothing?"

"I'm gonna guess by your tone that it's a no, but I gotta say, I wasn't so sure."

"Oh, shut up!" Y/N scowled, and he grinned. "Can I call someone for you? A tow truck? A mechanic?" She asked, rubbing the side of her nose, eyebrows raised, and Thomas shook his head.

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it." He seemed engrossed in whatever he was typing into his phone, staring down at it intently and hardly sparing her a glance as he furrowed his brow. "I'm gonna call myself an Uber. I'll be outta your hair in five minutes, and I'll come by to get my car in the morning. That ok?"

She nodded, hardly even processing his words. "Yeah. Yeah, fine."

She stifled another yawn as he grew increasingly frustrated with his app. Several moments passed; she saw him repeatedly pressing the same button with no increasing degree of success. It took him longer than it should've to admit defeat, letting out a sigh.

"Everything ok?"

He shook his head. "Uber isn't runnin' in this storm. Can I take you up on that tow truck?"

"Yeah, d'you want the number?"

"Please." His expression plainly revealed his increasing desperation as she pulled up the contact in her phone, rattled off the digits to him.

She spaced out gradually after taking a seat on one of the stools by the counter, absentmindedly watching him make the call. His relief was written clearly in his eyes when someone answered, and she listened to him go back and forth with the person on the other end of the line at such an ungodly hour. Whoever it was didn't seem to have any more patience than Thomas. It wasn't until he was cut off mid-sentence that his face finally fell.

"Yeah, yeah, I understand," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You have a good night, now."

"Bad news?" Y/N raised an eyebrow when he finally hung up the call. He looked to her with pursed lips.

"The roads are closed through downtown 'cause of a severe weather warnin'." Her eyebrows shot up, and he let out a defeated sigh. "I'm so sorry; 'm sure I have someone in the area who I can call and just walk over to. Gimme a few more minutes."

While he searched frantically through his phone, brow knit in worry, she could see the panic beginning to show through. She pursed her lips. His solution seemed flawed at best and downright suicidal at worst; the weather was brutal. "Thomas," she began, swallowing her qualms, but she didn't get a chance to go on, not in the midst of his rising anxiety

"You know of any hotels close to here, sweetheart? Even just--"

"There aren't any, Thomas," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. She knew she had to offer him residence for the night, by then, but exhaustion colored her reluctance.

"How far d'you suppose the nearest is?" He raised an eyebrow, glancing up. "'Cause I can walk to some--"

"Thomas." She looked at him tiredly. "I live upstairs."

He blinked, hesitant to draw the only clear conclusion from what she was saying, too afraid of the idea that he could've been being presumptuous. "...Okay?"

Her gaze was flat. "Just come crash at my apartment for the night. I have the space; I can't let you try to walk seven miles in the storm to some dingy B&B."

He bit his lip; he appeared anxious to accept her offer. "Listen, I don't wanna impose, sweetheart; I can--"

"You aren't imposing. Calm down." He raised an eyebrow; tentativeness still lay in his gaze, but he seemed to be realizing the futility of his situation. "I'm offering, alright?"

He paused. "You don't have to take me in just cause--"

"Thomas." She huffed, cutting him off for what she hoped was the final time. "Stop worrying about it. Seriously. If it'd really make you that uncomfortable, I guess I could bring a pillow down here for you to sleep on the floor, if that was what you really wanted, but otherwise, just come upstairs."

He raised his eyebrows, and his voice was quiet when he spoke. "You sure?"

She chuckled. "I'm sure. Now, stop making such a big deal of it. C'mon."

She nodded toward the staircase before going back to lock the front door to the diner, and she hit the lights again as he followed her up. "Thank you so much, Y/N, really, I--"

"What'd I just say about making a big deal out of it, hm?" She glanced back at him as they reached the top of the spiral staircase up to her apartment, and she unlocked the door. He gave a soft smile.

"Still, sweetheart. Thank you."

"It's not a problem," she chuckled. He came alongside her through the entrance, and she shut her front door behind him as he glanced around the flat curiously.

"What should I do with my coat?"

"Just put it on one of the hooks by the mirror. Leave your shoes wherever; it doesn't really matter." She flipped the kitchen light on as she walked in. "So, the couch is a pull-out; if you're still up when I go to sleep, the bedding and mattress pad are in the closet at the back of the hall. The bathroom is also back there, first door on your left, and you're welcome to help yourself to anything from the kitchen."

He raised an eyebrow as he shrugged off his coat, kicked off his shoes. "You got any more of those brownies up here?" he asked innocently.

Y/N paused where she stood, sending him a warning look. "That better be a joke."

"Of course, sugar." He'd begun wandering through her sitting room while she poured herself a drink. "Seriously, though, were you goin' to sleep when I messaged you? Don't wanna keep you up any later than I already have."

She shrugged. Despite her exhaustion, despite how she knew it'd have been impossible for him not to catch onto her fatigue, going to sleep didn't seem like the best of her options -- first off, she felt guilty to try and leave him alone there when he was all hopped up on caffeine, but second, and far more importantly, she didn't want to leave all her personal possessions out for him to poke through. (He'd probably go poking around, too, and she wouldn't blame him in the slightest; it wasn't like she hadn't dug through his belongings before.)

She finally answered, "Nah, not just yet. Was gonna pour myself a glass of wine, though; you want any while I'm at it?"

He hummed, considering it as she reached up for the bottle where she'd stashed it. "Wouldn't mind one."

So with that, she withdrew two glasses, pouring her cheap Cabernet Sauvignon out for the pair of them. With a sigh, she discarded her blanket on the side of the rug next to the couch, unable to carry both glasses along with it.

When she rejoined him, he stood before her bookshelf, arms crossed, leaning forward ever-so-slightly to get a better look at the titles.

"See anything you like?"

Her voice made him turn, matching her smile as he accepted the glass of wine. "I just might." His playful wink as he looked her over made her laugh. "Thanks for this, by the way."

She shrugged as he nodded to the drink she'd poured, lifting her own glass to her lips. "It's no Sassicaia, but it does the trick."

He took a sip, the corners of his lips quirking up. "Could be worse."

Though her gaze drifted to the bookshelf before him, she laughed lightly. "What high praise," she commented dryly.

"Isn't it?" Thomas grinned, glancing down at her, and she rolled her eyes. Her reaction didn't seem to deter him, though. "'M kiddin'," he reassured her, as though she'd taken any sort of offense at the statement. "Really, hope you know how grateful I am for all this."

His tone was light as he gestured to the room around them. While he seemed unfazed, Y/N couldn't help but feel absurd, as though the whole situation still could've been some strange, lucid dream.

"Ah, yes, I'm such a guardian angel," she agreed, tone dry with sarcasm. "I've provided an old mattress and an eight-dollar bottle of wine. You really struck it lucky."

He gave a cheeky grin. "The company more than makes up for it."

She scoffed, shaking her head, but she didn't suppress her growing smile. "You really owe me big, then."

"I'll find a way to pay you back."

She took another sip of her wine, and for once, the warmth blossoming in her chest wasn't just fast-acting heartburn from having cheaped out on dollar-store alcohol. She watched him another moment, waited to speak until he finally met her gaze. "Anything on my bookshelf holding your interest?"

His shrug revealed next to nothing. "No surprises here."

"Oh, because you know my taste in literature so well?" Her skepticism made him smile. Really, any resistance she provided didn't come from him being incorrect, but instead from how uneasy his discerning gaze made her; he spoke as though he could see right through her, as though he'd long since figured out what makes he tick. She couldn't help but feel exposed.

"You're easier to read than you think, sweetheart." She didn't answer, but instead raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to go on. "Keats, Austen, Plath..." He quirked a brow. "... seven different copies of The Princess Bride."

"Hey, it's a classic!" she defended, and he laughed.

"'Course it is." He took a sip of his drink, eyes shining. "It's interestin', though."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Rest of this apartment is almost completely bare, but this bookshelf is almost overflowin'."

She cocked her head. "Care to enlighten me on what makes that so interesting?"

"'S just predictable." He shrugged, his gaze turning to Y/N with a small smile. "Says somethin' about your priorities, huh? Nothin' you need straightened out."

His wink made her grin. "And who gave you the right to come into my home and judge my lifestyle?"

"Hey, I'm just validatin' you," he defended. "Besides, last I checked, you gave me that right by invitin' me up here."

Y/N huffed at how pleased he looked with himself, going to take a seat on her couch behind him. He raised an eyebrow as she did, and when his gaze followed her, he found himself turning, leaning against the bookshelf as she addressed him. "Don't make me regret it when you've hardly been up here for ten minutes."

"Aw, but I'm touched by how much you care, savin' me from the storm."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I didn't want you to freeze to death, try not to let it go to your head."

"But sweetheart, you saved my life; how could I not be forever in your debt?" At that point, he was playing up his gratitude, having plastered on a full pout, wearing a wistful expression, and Y/N hoped in vain that her amusement didn't show on her face.

"Don't be so dramatic; I just saved my career." She hid her smile behind the rim of her glass.

"C'mon, do I really mean that little to you?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

He laughed, coming back around to join her on the couch. "I'm gonna let that one go, just cause I know you don't mean it."

"...Right." The couch cushions dipped beside her as he sat, and she shifted, turned to him, pulling a leg up beside her onto her seat. He raised a dubious eyebrow before taking another sip of wine.

"You really expect me to believe that?" While his voice was light, the question itself wasn't in jest. The fact that she chose to ignore her adamant attraction to him didn't make it any less obvious, apparently -- it was forever bubbling just below the surface, hanging tense in the air between them. She sighed.

"Alright, I guess you caught me. It's true, my motives aren't purely selfish. I confess." She looked him in the eye with faux solemnity. "I'm also trying to save James and Dolley from having to plan a funeral."

He only shook his head, amused. She was deflecting again, and not subtly, either. Thomas was trying to tread lightly, but she wasn't making it easy on him. "Ever the humanitarian."

"I do try." His gaze was growing empty as she held his eyes. He looked as though his mind was elsewhere. When she drank more of her wine, eyeing him, he hadn't moved a muscle, his expression was blank. "Thomas?"

He blinked hard when she waved her hand in front of him, forcing a wide smile. "Sorry, sweetheart, just spaced out a minute."

"What are you thinking about?" The question was innocent, but it made him tense. He shrugged, pausing a moment.

"Just wonderin' where you got that century-old book of Bryon poems hidden." Though she raised an eyebrow, she tried not to let her skepticism pervade her expression. He raised an eyebrow. "You clearly don't have it packed into that same old bookshelf. Lose it already?"

"Not quite yet." She elected to ignore how he was deflecting in turn. "It's at my beside. I was doing some light reading last night."

"Enjoyin' it?"

"So much." Her excitement was genuine, then, when he raised a brow; her eyes were shining. "D'you know it's been annotated by like, seven different people? It's so interesting, seeing different interpretations from the past hundred years."

His lips quirked. "And what'd you think of my notes?"

"Some of those were yours?"

He nodded. "Everything in purple."

"You have pretty handwriting." When he grinned outright, her gaze drifted to his mouth a moment. She caught herself before he could react. "Anyway, I thought you said no one had read that in almost fifteen years."

"'S cause no one had. Those annotations were all the way back in college."

She raised her eyebrows. "Now, I definitely didn't expect you to be a fan of Byron."

"Oh yeah?" He crossed one of his legs over the other, shifting to face her, and draped an arm over the back of the couch. He looked curiously at her. "Why's that?"

"Definitely didn't take you for a romantic."

"Hey, now." His offense was entirely a facade, and his smile despite it didn't help his case. "I'm hurt. I've always been a romantic."

She snorted out a disbelieving laugh. "I'm sure you have."

"I'm not kiddin'!" he defended, but her clear skepticism amused him regardless. "'M a sentimental person."

"Could've fooled me."

"And why's that?"

"I dunno." She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink as she glanced at him. While his tone was lighthearted, his gaze was inquisitive, searching -- he didn't respond, letting the silence stretch on, and she felt as though she owed him an answer. "You're just so... laid-back and carefree. You're all confident, and brash, and have a flair for the dramatics. I guess I wouldn't have pegged you as a softie."

"I like to think I'm pretty empathetic." His voice was soft. "I've devoted my life to public service, to makin' people's better. You've gotta be compassionate to put the time and money into runnin' for president, right?"

"Or you have to be power-hungry," she contended, and though her tone was light, he creased his forehead.

"'S that really what you think of me?"

With how he was looking at her, bordering on hurt, Y/N could feel guilt building at the back of her throat. She'd come into her current job with so many preconceptions about him that she couldn't have known whether were true, but she hadn't hesitated in entertaining the ideas regardless. "Not anymore." She was sure she looked as embarrassed as she felt. "But I may have made some unfair assumptions, once upon a time."

He gave her a mild grin. "Don't sweat it; it goes both ways."

"Excuse me?" She sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow, and he only seemed amused as he regarded her.

"Oh, you're actin' all offended, now?"

"I am offended."

"You shouldn't be." She squinted suspiciously at him as he continued. "Never thought you were a bad person, or anythin', just didn't expect all this from you." With his words, he gestured to the room around him, and she was slow to reply.

"What d'you mean?"

"Lettin' me stay so late in your diner, takin' me in with the storm out there..." He trailed off, shrugging. "You're bein' more generous than you're givin' yourself credit for."

"To be fair, you would've been able to get home without a problem if I'd just kicked you out earlier."

"But you didn't." How perceptive he'd suddenly become had her shifting in her seat. "Feel like I owe you for it."

She smiled bashfully, sipping her wine. With how he was looking at her, heat had begun to rise in her cheeks. "Really, Thomas, it's not a big deal. It's the least I can do."

"It means a lot, though. Really. Didn't have to do any of this for me." His gaze roamed her apartment thoughtlessly, and he wore a small smile. Her eyes were fixed firmly on him all the while, drinking in his expression, the smallest details of his face, from the little patch below his ear he'd missed while shaving, to the stray curl that always seemed to fall across his forehead. "Thank you, Y/N."

What happened next caught them both off guard, despite how slow, gradual, even how nervous it was.

Her action was unexpected, but not sudden, and for once, Y/N didn't think about it. She just acted. He'd turned back to her in surprise when her fingertips grazed his stubble, no longer caught up in eyeing the room around them, and before he said anything, she was leaning in, kissing him.

The action wasn't rushed, and at first, it was chaste -- he was breathless, kissing her back without thinking twice, and his hand rose to cup her cheek, following her movements.

It took him a minute to pull away, and when he did, Y/N backed off immediately, wide-eyed. "Sweetheart--"

Her stomach dropped. Rejection hadn't been an outcome she'd considered, not after how he'd been coming onto her time and time again, not after the other night, with how frankly he'd asked her what she was looking for from him. "Shit, Thomas, 'm sorry." Her apology was breathless. "I... I didn't mean to make you--"

But he didn't let her go on, his hand moving from her cheek to the nape of her neck, stopping her from retreating to the opposite side of the couch as she lay her glass of wine on the coffee table. "Is this what you want?"

His question made her freeze. He wasn't shooting her down; his eyes searched hers, and she swallowed roughly. "Yes," she breathed. Another beat passed. She bit her lip, waiting for him to react, waiting to see what he'd say or do, but he didn't move.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm. "'Cause if you're gonna run out, rebuke me again, I can't--"

"I'm sure." She didn't waste another moment in pulling him back down to her, pushing herself across the couch, closer to him, and as her lips again met his, he discarded his glass, instead tugging her onto him by the waist.

She pulled him close that time, abandoning her hesitance. He didn't want to stop her, either -- not when her arms snaked up around his neck, not when she swung one of her legs over his, straddling his lap, not when she knit a hand into the curls at the base of his neck, and his self-control was fleeting as he bit down on her bottom lip, making her moan. But despite how she was kissing him, despite the sheer desire in her actions, his concern hadn't subsided.

When he held her face just inches from his own, thumb tracing patterns into the top of her hip, her stare was saturated with surprise. "Y/N, really," he started, worried. She raised her eyebrows. "I've gotta know--"

"I've thought this through," she cut him off firmly, rolling her hips teasingly down against his, and the action made him groan. "I want this. I want you. I'm not going to regret this; I'm not going to run off. If you want me to stop, tell me, tell me now, please, but I swear, Thomas. I know what I want." She'd withdrawn a hand from where it hung at his upper back, instead running it down to the top of his chest, her fingernails ghosting over his shoulder, across his collarbone. "Do you?"

There was a skip as he paused, but when he found no reservations in her gaze, only reckless abandon and want, his mind was made up.

"Beyond a doubt." His words were hardly a whisper, lost quickly in both of their rising thoughts, in the growing cacophony of pleasure as her lips returned to his without hesitation, lost in the rising sighs and low moans as she pressed up against him, and finally, finally, they both stopped thinking and overthinking, doubting and hesitating.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away as Y/N tugged on the tie Thomas still wore, as he pulled her closer by her waistband She was breathing heavily when his lips found her neck, shivering when his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin, when his fingertips dug into her hips. It was easy for her to lose herself in him, after weeks of waiting and wanting and wishing, and easier still when she pulled on his soft curls, making him groan against her skin, when his grip on her tightened as she ground her hips down against his.

She could feel him shudder underneath her when his hips jerked, when he pulled her down against him, when she let out a soft whine. By that point, his tie was sloppily loosened, hanging crooked around his neck, and Y/N had managed to undo the first few buttons of his shirt despite how preoccupied she'd quickly become.

She had no caution left to cling to. She'd shaken him off time and time again; she'd rebuffed his unshakeable audacity, but it took her until he backed off to realize what it was she was really looking for.

Something about it all scared her, made her heart race and her head spin, but as his hands traveled further south, her pulse spiked, and she couldn't bring herself to mind it. He asked where her bedroom was; her answer was just a murmur between hot, fervent kisses as he returned to her mouth.

She knew she wouldn't regret this all come morning. She wouldn't regret it two days later, nor two weeks later, the risk of it all only compounding upon the excitement. With his skin against hers, with him picking her up by the thighs, making her yelp as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, she was struggling to remember that there was any big picture to it. There would always be her job. There would always be the election. There would always be their nosy mutual friends and a bloodthirsty political landscape. But just then, in her low-budget apartment with her secondhand furniture, as the blizzard raged on within six inches of her warm, comfortable living room, as all of Washington D.C. was buried under a cloak of snow, as frozen in space as it felt in time, the two of them were all there was.

#hamilton #hamilton x reader fic #hamilton x reader #hamilton x reader smut #hamilton smut #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfiction requests #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton scenarios #hamilton scenario #hamilton imagine #hamilton imagines #hamilton x reader imagines #hamilton x reader scenarios #hamilton x reader imagine #hamilton x reader scenario #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson imagines #thomas jefferson scenario #thomas jefferson scenarios #thomas jefferson smut #thomas jeffershit #jefferson x reader #jefferson x reader smut #thomas jefferson x reader drabble #thomas jefferson oneshot

[chenoehi]

Points about U.S. Election

(As I was typing this, Biden has taken the lead in GA but it’s still not called yet. Trump will undoubtedly demand a recount so if it’s really close a recount could flip it back for Trump.)

Just a little update from my previous post on the election results, although no one cares about my opinion. Rest assured, this is purely for my own sanity.

First thoughts:

1. Arizona being wishy washy throws a real monkey wrench in the wheels of this circus train from the perspective of Biden’s bid. It sounds crazy given how the Associated Press operates when it comes to elections (being very careful to call states too early) but the AP might have fucked up. Ironically, it would mean that Fox News, the only conservative leaning major network news outlet, also fucked up by calling AZ for Biden, an even more confusing fact when we consider that CNN, NBC, MSNBC, and other liberal leaning outlets have NOT called AZ for Biden. It has been amusing seeing conservatives on Twitter (particularly the trollish, nasty, insult-slinging ones—as opposed to normal every day conservatives) say fuck you to Fox News where Republicans have been tuning in to worship at the alter of Trump for the last four years. Politics always drives home what fickle creatures we really are. This is no offense to Republicans honestly. I have little use for broadcasters with their own shows who call themselves journalists. CNN, NBC, and MSNBC are in the tank for Democrats and Fox News is Trumpland. Fox News used to be more moderate when Bush was president but that’s been a lifetime ago. Now politics are even more idealogical than they were before, and the Republican voters are almost embracing Trump now more than they are embracing conservative values. Or at least that’s what I see in my corner of the deep red South, aka Tennessee. I digress. Point is, true journalists report the facts with no outward bias. These people are political commentators. I have a journalism degree. I wrote for my school paper and helped run it. I covered the 2016 election. I’ve met real journalists at AP and newspapers. Those people are not it.

2. In other news, Nevada may not even matter now if Biden can flip Georgia and Pennsylvania (which is happening in GA and may soon happen in PA if Biden can keep the upward momentum). That would make my points in the previous post almost irrelevant now. It goes to show how unpredictable this election has been, more so than expected. If Biden flips GA for good, Trump will have to win every other state (Alaska, North Carolina, Nevada, and Pennsylvania) AND flip Arizona back to gain just 269 electoral votes. If he fails to flip AZ or if he flips AZ and then loses just one other state it’s game over. If Biden wins GA and AZ still flips for Trump  because it was called too early, then his 253 electoral votes (sans the 11 that AZ gives him) will turn into 269. He will still have to win one more state to gain 270. If Biden loses AZ and then doesn’t win any other state outside of GA he has 269 votes, and if Trump wins all the other states (PA, NC, NV, AL, AZ) he has 269 votes. If that scenario happens, neither men will get the needed 270 votes and we are royally fucked. If you think Trump demanding a recount in Wisconsin with a 20k gap (SAME AS HIS OWN GAP IN 2016, TALK ABOUT HYPOCRISY, NOT TO MENTION 2016 ALSO SAW A 10K GAP IN MICHIGAN) is bad, and if you think it’s really bad that we don’t have a President-elect at almost 3 days post election, imagine the horror of a nationwide recount or worse.

3. No one has any fucks to give about Alaska and North Carolina, still. 

4. I really didn’t want to spend energy talking about Trump but I just find it so tragic that he wants the votes to continue to be counted in Arizona where the mail-ins are now turning it around in his favor, meanwhile in Pennsylvania and Georgia he tossed out lawsuits to stop the counting because there’s all this corruption and voter fraud because his lead is slipping due to the mail-ins and absentees. Oh, and he needed to move his people just a few feet closer to observe the ballots being counted, although if they’re close enough to read the language of the ballots then that constitutes an invasion of privacy. But everything is gravy in Arizona. #allvotesmatter. No disrespect to BLM, full stop. I find irony in comparing that phrase to this voting situation because Trump certainly wants conservative votes in Arizona to matter because it means something to him. Whereas, votes incoming from Fulton County in GA (Atlanta) and from Philadelphia, PA, and Detroit, MI—all heavily Black-populated cities—are being scrutinized and declared criminal. I find it tragically ironic, so I use that comparison here and elsewhere. I’m not making light of the movement by doing so (just to be clear).

Now, a break down of this shitshow:

What did we expect to happen?

Both camps thought they could win by a landslide.

Both camps have had their egos bruised.

We expected Trump to make accusations if he didn’t perform well or if he lost.

Trump already set the precedent for this behavior in 2016 when he complained that a loss then would be because the vote was rigged. Turns out, it wasn’t. And his paper thin margins were totally fine and not the cause of voter fraud and fishiness and he didn’t steal the election.

We did not expect him to go quietly into that night. The exact opposite of what happened in 2016 is happening now and Trump’s hypocrisy and immaturity is showing full force. Even some of his supporters are saying he’s whack. That’s bad, but then again, many Republicans have had concerns over his Tweets and rhetoric for the last four years and have done nothing about it. Consequently, he’s lost a lot of former supporters and I don’t even know what his cabinet looks like now. I digress.

Everyone expected Biden to carry most of the mail-in and absentee ballots and for Trump to carry most of the in-person votes.

That is exactly what has happened in pretty much all the swing states save for AZ.

Why is that?

Trump encouraged his followers to vote in-person during early voting periods and to turn out big on election day and specifically to not mail their ballots in or use absentee ballots. Meanwhile, Biden encouraged people to mail in their ballots to stay safe.

We always have some mail-ins and some absentees each election cycle but because of COVID this 2020 election means that we have had millions of these types of ballots this year, which are always more time consuming to process and count. 

In Michigan alone, 2/3 of the state cast mail-in or absentee ballots. Michigan was one of the states like Wisconsin where Trump’s early lead was dashed once the in-person ballots were finished being tallied. Unlike in Arizona, Georgia, and Pennsylvania, Michigan has ended up with a gap of nearly 150k votes for Biden and doesn’t yet appear to be subject to a recount. Meanwhile, Wisconsin went to Biden with a 20k gap but will seemingly be subjected to a recount. The former governor of Wisconsin (who is in the tank for Trump) even spoke out initially and said that unless they can uncover a severe degree of voter fraud or mishandling of ballots (transposed numbers, etc) then 20k is a lot to overcome.

What has happened? The Red Mirage and the Blue Shift.

Generally, in-person votes are the easiest and quickest to tabulate. Mail-in ballots and absentee ballots take longer because they take longer to be processed. Then there are provisional ballots, which generally take the longest because these are votes from people who might actually be ineligible to vote (possibly because of residency status or criminal history; for example, if the latter then their voting rights may have been temporarily suspended).

Key swing states like Florida, Texas, and maybe Ohio (but specifically FL and TX) were allowed to start counting their mail-in and absentee ballots early.

FL and TX saw Biden having an early lead before ultimately Trump gained the lead and won as soon as the in-person ballots started being counted. So, mail-ins and absentee ballots tallied first, in-person ballots tallied second in these states. A Blue Mirage, and then a Red Shift.

However, news commentators have long been discussing the following scenario: the Red Mirage, aka, the tallied in-person votes overwhelmingly skewing Republican being counted first and making states appear to be in Trump’s favor when in actuality Biden would win them in the end once mail-ins and absentees were counted last, causing the Blue Shift (aka the current shift we are seeing now in several swing states, but also harkening back to the 2016 election when Trump caused what was dubbed a “Red Wave” when he swept almost all of the swing states. Aka, now a Blue Shift nationwide).

Why does all this matter to the accusations of voter fraud?

Prior to election day, the GOP (conservatives/Republicans) blocked certain key swing states from being able to count mail-ins and absentees early on. That means that all the ballots that were received in certain states during early voting periods and right up to election day (November 3rd) were unable to be counted until the day of the election.

This block happened in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin. I don’t know about Georgia, I don’t think this happened with GA but maybe.

So, unlike FL and TX, which leaned for Biden early on and then shifted, the opposite is happening in PA and GA, and we have seen Biden take MI and WI both.

Arizona is an anomaly because although Biden was expected to sweep a majority of the mail-in and absentee ballots, and has to a large degree nationwide, in Arizona it has been Trump who has taken a larger % of those ballots. Arizona is kind of a coin toss because Trump has a lot of supporters there, and it goes to Republicans most of the time. So Biden’s lead (and possible win) is surprising, but Trump is closing the gap slowly.

What are some things that people are forgetting?

One critical thing is that the USPS (U.S. Postal Service) fucking sucks.

It was reported either on election day or the next morning that the USPS misplaced 300k ballots. They were given more time by a judge to sweep their facilities to find these ballots (how tf do you lose 300k ballots in the first place).

The USPS has been noncompliant when it comes to this and other issues, causing several setbacks and problems.

Many ballots were delivered late. Republicans said that was fraud. They wanted to stop the counting of these ballots in some places. But as long as the ballots were mailed (aka postmarked) by election day then they are still valid, legal ballots. The USPS not delivering them on time is a separate issue.

Some of those ballots are for Trump and other candidates. Not all are for Biden. So he’d be costing himself votes too, which is counterintuitive.

Now, Trump has changed his narrative to ‘we want all legal ballots to be counted’. So I guess that means he’s cool now with the ballots being counted in AZ days after the election, just as long as they give him a change to win back the state.

Why are Trump’s accusations “dangerous,” hypocritical, and insulting?

Trump can turn a blind eye to his Hail Mary pass in Arizona and possibly Nevada this year (which he lost in 2016), and he can embrace the fact that he swept the election in 2016, won most of the swing states, many of which were expected to vote Democrat, and he can gloss over his paper-thin margins in 2016, which are eerily similar to this margins that Biden is now securing.

He can do all this because he won in 2016, and because he could win AZ and NV. But, he doesn’t like that he’s losing his lead in PA, and that he lost MI, WI, and currently the lead in GA. And of course it has to mean there was fraud and corruption if he’s losing right, because there’s no way he could lose in a fair election right? Because he’s so well-liked, right?

And I’m sure someone will point out that Democrats complained that the 2016 election wasn’t fair and that the result was influenced by the Russians and etc. etc. So Democrats are now hypocrites for calling Trump out on his bullshit statements with no evidence.

I agree that the “Trump didn’t win a fair race” argument is stupid, and that has been no more evident than it is right now obviously seeing that his popularity was no fluke. Biden is close to winning the race, but by a small margin. The country is extremely divided, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.

However, Trump is not really levying any specific accusations against Biden that I can see. What I’m hearing is Trump making vague accusations against the states, the election commissions, the polling offices, the people counting, and everyone that is specifically responsible for handling and counting the votes.

What is something that no one talking about, something that is incredibly hypocritical of Trump and Republicans to not point out in light of their accusations?

Alaska and North Carolina.

Why is neither Trump nor any conservative not pointing out how Alaska and North Carolina haven’t finished counting, or how NC has stopped counting and updating their votes for a whole day now? Why is no one saying anything about Alaska only having 50% of their votes reported 3 days after the polls opened? Where is the rage and conspiracy theories about those states and their stalled counting? Why aren’t they complaining about possible voter fraud in those states and worried something fishy is going on? Where are the lawsuits in Anchorage and Raleigh?

Oh, is it because everyone (including Democrats) knows Trump is going to win those states? Do we need an #allstatesmatter movement or something to get them to notice that we still don’t have any updates from them? (No offense to BLM, full stop.)

They don’t care about the issues in NC and AL. They only care about slow counting and fraud accusations in the states where their standing is subject to change. Meaning AKA, if the vote ends in their favor by a narrow margin of let’s say 1,000 votes then they’ll praise it as a win but if they lose the state by 20,000 votes like they did in.. oh, say Wisconsin this year, then they’ll claim voter fraud and demand a recount. Also like they have done in, you guessed it, Wisconsin. So, it’s OK if they eek out a win of 20k in Wisconsin back in 2016, and it’s OK if they eek out wins in Arizona and Nevada after Biden’s current lead, that’s not evidence of potential voter fraud, but if Biden gets a 20k win in Wisconsin this year that’s suspicious.

So Trump is fine with overtaking Biden with Hail Mary passes and narrow margins. He’s fine with all the mysterious votes for him that people are “finding everywhere” in AZ now (using his words he used to describe Biden’s gains). There’s no voter fraud going on in AZ where the mail-ins and absentees are still being counted like everywhere else, despite Trump and other Republicans complaining about the fact that votes are still being counted days after the election and that these ballots are bad in general. There’s no fraud in states where Biden initially had the lead after mail-ins were counted but is now seeing saw his lead shrink as in TX and FL, or in AZ where Biden (like Trump now in PA and GA) is seeing his early lead shrink now that mail-ins and absentees are being counted. There’s no fraud in AZ because Trump is the one gaining the advantage. And there’s also no fraud going on in Alaska where there is still only 50% votes reported or in North Carolina where 94% votes were reported before being delayed now a full day.

Quick question: do you see any Democrats or Liberals claiming Trump’s camp or the AZ counties themselves are purposefully locking that state up in his favor with mail-ins and absentees after seeing how many votes were needed for Trump to win it once the in-person ballots were tallied—as Trump so eloquently accused the Democrats and polls in PA, GA, MI, and WI of doing in his press conference yesterday afternoon? Because that’s basically what he said in his press conference. He made the accusation that they looked at the tally after in-person votes were counted, saw what votes were needed for Biden to win the state, and then suddenly they just started finding votes everywhere. Again, where are the watchdogs barking about people in Arizona and Nevada suddenly finding Trump votes everywhere? Suddenly, absentee and mail-in ballots are…good.

A summary of the hypocrisy and bullshit.

Trump wanted people to vote in person.

Trump said there was no way he could lose the election fairly. (Arrogance and also setting the stage for his legal arguments.)

Trump said that mail-ins and absentees were not trustworthy and basically they could be used to rig the election. (Also setting the stage for legal arguments. Again, we have always used these types of ballots in elections and everyone knows they skew heavily Democratic so if Trump says they’re not trustworthy all of a sudden and millions of people vote this way due to COVID, then we got ourselves a huge case of fraud.)

Trump fails to mention that a fraction of the mail-ins and absentees in every state are still for him or Independent candidates and that with each update his vote count also rises along with Biden’s.

He fails to acknowledge that in AZ the mail-ins and absentees are favoring him more than Biden and that they are the reason he’s gaining in AZ now, and he’s more than willing to say that counting should continue there and to take his gains as a sign he’ll win the state. And it totally doesn’t matter that this is a direct contradiction of his statement that mail-ins and absentees are tools for Dems to ‘steal’ elections.

The early Blue Mirage in states like TX and FL, where the mail-ins and absentees were counted early and the first votes leaned Biden, were followed by in-person ballots and leaned overwhelmingly Trump.

The Blue Mirage of Arizona is seeing mail-ins and absentees turn out to be not in Biden’s favor but rather in Trump’s favor, the opposite of what happened in TX/FL (and what’s happening in GA and PA).

All these shifts in Trump’s favor in states where mail-ins and absentees have either been giving the wrong overall impression initially because they were counted first (FL/TX) before shifting drastically for Trump once in-person ballots were considered. Because those states were allowed to count these ballots early and were not made to wait until election day to start counting.

The results of mail-ins and absentees in AZ are not what people expected and have ended up shifting now at the last minute for Trump after in-persons have been counted. No one is claiming that this last minute shift is suspicious.

Democrats will still most likely lose the Senate, where they only gained 1 seat, and their only hope of possibly winning the Senate is if they A. pick up more seats organically and B. if Biden wins then Vice President-elect Harris could cast a vote for the Democrats.

Democrats have not quite swept the House either. They will probably hold onto the House but they have lost 5 (count it FIVE) seats to Republicans and the one lone Independent seat was also lost to the Republicans so at this point the conservatives have gained a total of 6 (SIX) seats. Their representatives are also leading in a lot of places so they will gain bare minimum probably 10 more seats and there are only 34 left (according to AP as of this moment).

All of the Republican Congressional candidates are performing well, whereas Trump (the incumbent Republican President) is losing, and at the very best still performing poorly. Including losing the popular vote by 4 million votes. This is stunning because normally in this situation the congressional candidates would not necessarily outperform the incumbent president of their party.

Basically, if the Democrats really wanted to rig this whole election then they have done a very shit job of it. I would like to speak to a manager.

That’s it. I’m done. If you read all of this, you’re the OG. I hope some of what I said resonates.

#feel free to correct any wrong numbers or add facts I don't know #I don't pretend to know everything #but I have been watching this election closely #there are other things that have happened that I didn't mention #like a burst pipe in georgia #but I don't know the details about that and some other reasons for delays so I didn't say anything #voter supression #joe biden #joseph biden #biden 2020 #donald trump #trump 2020 #biden campaign #trump campaign #2020 election #us election #election #election results #2020 us election #us election 2020 #vote #voting #politics #political post #democratic party #democrats #democracy #please don't hate in the comments #I'm commenting on the election and politicians #im not looking to fight with people

[roseapothecary]

I’m posting this several hours past the deadline, but it’s okay bc I posted a single bingo a couple days ago (so that one counts). This has been an incredible fest! It’s my first EVER as a member of this fandom and I’ve enjoyed all of the wonderful, creative stories that came out of it... not to mention, I really enjoyed writing the three that I contributed myself! Thank you to the mods for organizing this, and to all of you that submitted work.

I decided to come back and fill out a full bingo card with recs.

The one line I did before just wasn’t enough.

... And, this time, I’m going to properly gush. 🥰

Featuring Art: you know what they say: better late than never

This is literally so fucking pure.

Rare Ships: everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so)

Do Ruth/Stevie count as a rare ship? They’re not ~technically canon, so I’m counting it. This piece is REALLY sweet and features one of my favorite tropes (“there’s only one bed!!”)

Character Archetypes: breaking open the game

This is a GORGEOUS exploration of Patrick’s experience as a queer athlete. 

Alexis’ POV: Rollin' With the Homies

YA’LL. This fic tho. Like. Not only does Alexis’s POV really shine when read through this lens, it also blends so well with Cher’s tone that it’s... like... It’s perfect. It’s the perfect mashup. The author’s choice to write it in first-person was a boss move and I read the entire thing in Alexis’s actual voice in my head. AND TWYLEXIS KISS IN DISNEYLAND? COME. ON.

Audio/Podfic: [Podfic] Never Felt This Way Before 

This is one of my favorites from @schittposting​, given new life. Such a beautiful transformation of an already beautiful fic.

Patrick’s POV: What's New Pussycat?

There are literally no words to explain this. David is a cat. Literally. I never realized how on brand that would be, but... dude, David Rose is a cat.

Less Than 2k: lost mittens and dryer lint

Not only did this lead me into a spiral watching the original House Hippo advert and reading about that whole thing (fucking fascinating), it also had me giggling and smiling. So cute.

Romantic Tropes: You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song

SUCH a unique take on rom-com tropes and David’s love for them. I can’t say much more without spoiling the magic of it because it truly is an original concept. Just... take my word for it. Read it.

Set in SC: Budd is a dud! Vote Sands.

Love, love, love this view of Stevie/Twyla’s relationship. There’s a great mix of comedy, romance, and general sweetness.

Over 20k: I Waited My Whole Life

I mean, I love weddings and this has SEVERAL of them, so obviously it’s gonna be on my rec list. It’s a great story and a beautiful ride, from beginning to end. There’s a great balance of comedy and fluff... and tbh the banter? [chef’s kiss]

Fantasy and Fandom Tropes: Captive on the carousel of time 

There is so much to love about this fic. Seeing David and Patrick from Twyla’s perspective is absolutely adorable, for one, and Twyla’s perspective IN GENERAL is delightful. There’s also a time-loop AND Stevie/Twyla. 

Canon-Compliant: to the end of reckoning

This is a cool take on Patrick and Ronnie’s dynamic and I’ve frankly accepted it as part of my personal head-canon. It’s so spot on.

Free Space: More Than a Bird

At no point in my life did I think, “You know who would make a great superhero? David Rose.” Then I read this, and I haven’t stopped thinking... You know who would make a great superhero? David Fucking Rose. It’s a great exploration of his character and Patrick’s character... and also David’s familial dynamic with Stevie and Alexis. I would read another 20k of this, to be totally honest with ya’ll.

Free Space honorable mention: Make a Wish 

Okay, I couldn’t choose between this one and the above one for my free space, so you’re getting both. I fucking love this concept and how the author incorporated the rings into the genie mythos... and the mythos the author created in general for how genies work? The Aladdin references were lovely, but there’s also a fresh, original sorta vibe. And the background of HOW David ended up a genie in the first place is just... gold. Such a good story overall.

Platonic Tropes: Gonna Watch You Shine

Johnny and Stevie are family now. 🥺 

That’s it. That’s all you need to know. Read it.

Rare POV: didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us)

This fic takes you on the journey of Twyla and Alexis’s relationship over the course of the show through Twyla’s eyes and it’s stunning.

Based on a Movie: Taste of a Poison Paradise 

It’s Alexis as Harley Quinn. Do I need to say more? This is so so good. I love ALL of the author’s choices re: character alter egos. Rachel as Black Canary?  Stevie as Catwoman? STEVIE/RACHEL??? And, obvi, the Twylexis of it all. My favorite part (and why it gets this bingo slot) is the way Alexis’s thought bubbles actually made their way into the text, ala Harley’s voiceovers in Birds of Prey. It worked really really well. 

David’s POV: Flying Coach 

Genuinely a fucking delight. David’s characterization here is flawless, first of all, and... honestly, whoever you are, author person... I’d really like to see what happens next in Paris. So, if you could get on that, that would be great. [David Rose voice] Thanks so much.

Multiple Tropes: You Happened

High school David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla? Sign me the fuck up. This is one of my favorite takes on the “David works at Rose Video” concept (which is already one of my fave SC tropes), and it seamlessly folds in so many different nods to canon. It’s sweet and it’s funny and it’s angsty and it’s just a lot. It’s so good.

Canadian Tropes: Close Encounters of the Alces Kind

This had me giggling basically the entire time. Who wouldn’t love a text-based fic about a moose? ...David, probably... but that’s it.

Featuring Music: favored nations

I will never shut up about this fic for as long as I fucking live. I’m literally tearing up writing this stupid little rec and thinking about it. David’s whole story with his galleries translates SO well into what the author set up for him here... and humble!famous Patrick is just Correct in every way. It’s a brilliant, brilliant AU... and tbh? I wish David and Patrick were real so they could actually create this play together. I’d love to see it. 

Set Outside SC: how it's gonna always be

This one stole my heart. It’s SO beautifully written, first of all, and it’s a great story. Both David and Patrick have the habit of running from their problems, but it’s with each other that they finally dive in headfirst. Also, y’know, the fic is 🔥🔥🔥.

WLW Fic: If You Could See The Other Side Of Me 

This had me fucking cackling. By now, ya’ll know how much Stevie/Alexis mean to me and dksvjioehgo dude this take is just... [chef’s kiss]. The author even wrote lyrics. Like. That ALONE sends this fic to the next fucking level. Quebecky Stan 4 Lyfe.

Stevie’s POV: In the Running

Another take on the “Stevie and Twyla compete for a council seat” prompt. I loved how this brought out their competitive sides. A delight.

Multiple Chapters: four four four two 

SOFT!!! ALSO THERE ARE BAKED GOODS!!! AND INCREDIBLY FLIRTATIOUS NOTES!!! AND PEEK-A-BOO STEVIE/RUTH TOO!

Gen Fic: The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer 

The voices are so spot on. Just. So perfect. I wish I could hear the actors read this.

#fic rec #tropefest #schitt's creek fic rec

[patchworkofravens]

chris: Last time on Total Drama Island… Twenty-two campers arrived and learned that they’ll be spending the next eight weeks at a crusty old summer camp. The campers were faced with their first challenge, jumping off a cliff into shark-infested waters. And while most campers took the plunge, a few were forced to wear the dreaded chicken hat. At the campfire ceremony, it all came down to two campers. Courtney has experience as a C.I.T. in summer camp, but refused to jump. And Ezekiel managed to tick off every female contestant at the camp win his sexist comments about women. In the end, the first camper voted off Total Drama Island was Ezekiel, proving that homeschooling and reality TV don’t really mix. Who will be voted off this week in the most dramatic campfire ceremony yet? Find out tonight on Total. Drama. Island!

[air horn blasts]

[clunk]

Leshawna: Ow! It’s seven in the morning! Do I look like a farmer to you?

[heavy metal music playing over headphones]

Eva grunts and growls after Cody tries to grab her mp3

Chris: Morning! Hope you slept well.

Heather: Hi, Chris. You look really buff in those shorts.

Chris: I know. Okay. I hope you’re all ready because your next challenge begins in exactly one minute.

Owen: Oh, excuse me. I don’t know if that’s enough time to eat breakfast.

Chris: Oh, you’ll get breakfast, Owen. Right after you complete your twenty kilometers run around the lake!

Eva: Oh, so you’re funny now? You know what I think would be funny?

Courtney [hushed] :Eva! Try to control your temper

Eva [to Chris] :You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?!

Chris: A little. You have thirty seconds.

(Confessional: Courtney)

Courtney: Okay, that girl Eva has got to get a handle on her temper. She’s only been here one day and she’s already thrown her suitcase out a window and broken the lock on one of the bathroom doors.

(Confessional Off)

Chris: Okay, runners! On your marks... get set... go!

Owen pants

[birds screeching]

[panting]

Harold: Do you know how much longer?

Bridgette pants

Gwen: Don’t walk beside me.

Heather [to Noah] :Do you mind?

(Confessional: Heather)

Heather: I don’t run. And I definitely don’t run in high heel wedges.

(Confessional Off)

Owen: Can’t… Catch… Breath. Must… Have… Condition!

[splash]

Heather: Yeah. It’s called overeating. Look into it.

Leshawna [out of breath]: What’s your excuse, you skinny… Annoying… Ooh… I’m too tired for insults.

Chris [through megaphone] :Pick it up, people! If you’re not back by dinner time, you don’t eat!

Heather: Mmm… I hate him so much.

bones crack and Chris files his nails

Owen: Clear a table, stat!

Leshawna: Oh… We made it!

[pat pat pat pat pat pat]

Courtney [to Harold] :What took you so long? We just lost the challenge!

Harold [inhaling heavily] : I think I’m having heart palpitations.

Gwen: Hey, wait a minute. If they lost, that means we won the challenge!

Heather, Noah, Owen, and Trent cheer

Chris: Whoa there! Hold your horses, guys. That wasn’t the challenge!

Gwen: What did he just say?

Chris: Who’s hungry?!

glorious music as a buffet table is revealed.

(Confessionals Onn)

Gwen: After a whole week of brown sludge, I almost cried when I saw that buffet.

Owen: And then I saw it, the buffet table. It was beautiful. There was turkey and Nanamo bars and baked beans and maple syrup! Ha… [choked up] Can I have a minute? [crying effeminately]

(Confessionals Off)

Campers groan with their stomachs full

Chris [through megaphone]: Okay, campers! Time for part two of your challenge!

Owen [with his mouth full] :I thought eating was the second part.

Gwen: What more do you want from us?

Heather [ after she groans]: Weird goth girl is right. Haven’t we been through enough?

Chris [through megaphone]:Um… Let me think about that. No! It’s time for… The Awake-a-thon!

Owen: The what-a-thon?

Chris [through megaphone] :Don’t worry! This is an easy one! The team with the last camper standing wins invincibility!

Gwen: So, what you’re saying is the 20k run and the turkey eating frenzy were part of your evil plan to make it harder for us to stay awake?

Chris [through megaphone] :That’s right, Gwen!

Gwen: Man, he’s good.

Chris [through megaphone] :Move, move, move!

Trent: So, how long do you think it’ll be before everyone’s out cold?

Gwen: ‘Bout an hour, give or take.

Owen groans while passing by.

Gwen: Maybe less.

birds squawk and Heather yawns

Chris [speaking softly] :We’re now twelve hours in with all twenty-one campers still wide awake.

Owen: Woohoo! Stay awake for twelve hours?! I can do that in my sleep! Woohoo![passes out with a thud]

(Confessional: Gwen)

Gwen: The Awake-a-thon was definitely the most brutal thing I’ve ever done in my life

(Confessional Off)

Gwen yawns

[ding]

Gwen: This is the most boring thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Trent [yawns] : Could be way worse.

Gwen: Oh yeah? How?

Trent: I could be stuck here without you to talk to.

(Confessional: Heather)

Heather: So my strategy is to get two other campers to form an alliance with me and take to the final three. The only question is, who can I find that is either desperate or dumb enough to do whatever I say?

(Confessional Off)

Gwen [to Lindsay]: What are you doing?

Lindsay: Trying to get the blood to rush to my head. Heh… I think it’s working.

Beth: Can I try?

Lindsay: Sure!

Heather: Perfect. Lindsay, Beth, can I talk to you for a sec?

Lindsay: Sure!

Heather: Okay. I have a plan to get me and two other people in the final three, and I chose you guys.

Lindsay: Really?

Heather: You should know that this is a very big deal. I am placing my trust in you. And trust is a two-way street. So you’ll do everything I say then?

Lindsay: Sure! [squeals] We’re going to the final three! [squealing]

(Confessional: Beth)

Beth: Oh, my gosh! Heather is taking me into the final three! [gasps] I’m going to the final three! I’m going to the final three! I wonder what will happen then.

(Confessional Off)

Lindsay: Speaking of alliances, you know who I think is really cute? [the camera pans to Tyler, who sitting near a rock]

Heather: Oh no. No no no. You can’t date him.

Lindsay: Why not?

Heather: Because he’s on the other team!

Lindsay: Uh-huh…?

Heather: You can’t inter-team date. It’s like… Against the alliance rules.

Lindsay: There are rules?

Heather: Remember what I just said about trust, Lindsay? Of course, you could always leave the alliance. If you do though, I can’t protect you from getting kicked off.

Lindsay: No, I-I wanna be in the alliance!

Heather: Good. Then it’s settled.

(Confessional: Lindsay)

Lindsay: Heather said I couldn’t date him. She never said I couldn’t like him.

(Confessional Off)

heavy metal music plays over Eva's headphones

Eva: I’m going to the bathroom. [ her footsteps can be heard as she leaves]

Eva Drops her Mp3 and Heather catches it while pretending to stretch.

Lindsay: Um, isn’t that Eva’s MP3 player?

Heather: Yup.

Lindsay: Well, isn’t she gonna get like, really mad when she realizes it’s gone?

Heather: That’s exactly what I’m counting on.

Bridgette snores

Izzy snores

Campers snore

Courtney pants

[dreamy music]

[bear growls]

Tyler screams

Katie and Sadie gasp

Chris: Congratulations, campers! You’ve made it to the twenty-four hour mark. Time to take things up a notch! Fairy tales!

Gwen: Oh, he’s not serious!

Chris clears his throat

[harp plays]

Chris snickers

Chef: Grrr…

Chris [reading softly]: “Once… Upon a time… There was… Inside this boring kingdom…”

Beth yawns

Chris: “A boring village. And inside this boring, sleepy, village… Filled with very boring children… that did very… Boring things.”

harp music plays and sheep bleat

One sheep farts.

Cody: Huh? [ wakes up coughs whe he notices that he slept on Owen's butt]

The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy plays and Chef dances in a ballerina costume.

[sparkle]

Duncan, Eva, and Geoff yawn

sparkle

Cody yawns

sparkle

DJ yawns and snores, still tied into the tree wich crashes

[tree crashes]

[ding]

[squirrel chatters]

Gwen [tired] :Timber!

(Confessional: Courtney)

Courtney: I figured that if I kept moving, I could outlast all of them. I just had to keep my eye on the ball.

(Confessional Off)

Katie and Sadie sigh

Courtney pants

Beth snores

Heather: We should talk about our strategy.

Lindsay: Huh…? [snores and falls back]

Heather: Beth?[Beth's already asleep]

[ding ding]

Gwen: Okay. Favorite song?

Trent: “She Would Be Loved”. Favorite color?

Gwen: Um… Midnight blue.

Trent: Ooh, mysterious. I like that. [Gwen yawns] Aw, don’t fall asleep. Okay, quick. Favorite movie moment?

Gwen: You’re gonna think it’s cheesy.

Trent: I promise I won’t.

Gwen: Okay. The kiss at the end of that road trip movie. You know, the one with the guy and the three girls?

Trent: I know the one! [laughs] You like that movie?

Owen sleepwalks by then, naked.

(Confessional: Owen)

Owen: Did I mention that I ate the entire dish of baked beans and maple syrup? Funny thing about baked beans, they make me sleepwalk.

(Confessional Off)

Katie and Sadie snore in perfect syncrony.

Trent [within a yawn] :Oh, cool. They even fall asleep together.

[guitar playing]

Trent: You still awake?

Gwen: Yeah. It’s weird, but I think I’m so tired, I’m not tired anymore. Does that make sense?

Trent: I really have no idea. Where’s the Little Dipper again?

Gwen: See the Big Dipper? Follow the handle to that bright star, the pole star. And it’s right there.

Trent: Ahh… Cool.

Owen snores and walks into the cliff.

[big splash]

Gwen: Look at him. He’s like a statue. He hasn’t moved in over… Fifty hours! Hello? Yo!

Trent: Yip! Yip! Yip yip yip yip yip!

Gwen: Amazing. Look at the concentration. [gasps]

Eva: His eyelids are painted! I saw it!

Chris: Get out! Oh, I’ve gotta see this. [runs to Justin]That is so crazy incredible! But, you’re still out, dude.

[ding]

[splashing]

Harold sighs

Duncan [laughs] :Gross, it works! Dude peed his pants!

Harold gasps

Noah kisses Cody's ear then screams in horror.

Cody screams in horror

Gwen [after she yawns]: I’d kill for a coffee right now.

Chris: What is the matter with you people? [sips coffee] Come on, fall asleep already!

Gwen: You’ve gotta hook me up, man. I’ll even eat the grinds! Anything!

Chris: All right, you five stay with me. The rest of you go get a shower, for heavens sake. You stink! [sips coffee] I didn’t want it to come to this, I said that to Chef Hatchet last night, I said, “Chef, I don’t want it to come to this. But darn it, these campers are tough.” And so… I’ve come up with the most boring, sleep-inducing activity I can find.

(Confessional: Gwen)

Gwen: Oh come on! What now? Okay, you know what? Bring it on!

(confessional Off)

Chris [soft-spoken]: “The History of Canada,” a pop-up book. “Chapter One: The Beaver” National symbol and a “dam” fine hat.”

Duncan, Eva, Gwen, Heather, and Trent groan

Gwen: Stink.

[tail patting]

Chris: “Which of course, was the precursor for the discussions…”

[ding]

Chris: “…leading to War”

[ding]

Chris: “…of 1812.”

Gwen: Trent! [ he falls in slow-motion] Noooo![thud, ding] Don’t leave me!

Chris: Time for a bathroom break! Any takers?

Duncan: I’ve held it this long, sweetheart! I can go all day!

Gwen: Yeah, but can you hold it for another ten chapters?

Chris: You’ve got five minutes. Long as you don’t mind a little company.

Duncan: Fine. But stay out of the stall.

the cameraman nods.

Gwen groans

cut to the bathroom

Cameraman: Duncan! You in there, man?

[door opens, flies buzz]

Duncan snores with his pants down

cut to the camping area.

paper rustles as the cameraman gives a note to Chris

Chris: And we have news! It Looks like Duncan’s taken a dive on the can! Which means the official winner of The Awake-a-thon is…

Gwen falls with a thud

Chris(raising Gwen's wrist): Gwen! The Screaming Gophers win!

Eva [screaming frantically while throwing things out the window]: Where is my MP3 player?! One of you must’ve stolen it, I need my music! No one is going anywhere until I get my MP3 player back! [grunts]

Courtney [hushed]: Okay. Whoever took it better give it up now before she destroys the whole camp.

Heather: Hey, guys! Wow, this place is a real mess.

Courtney: Someone stole Eva’s MP3 player.

Heather: You don’t mean this, do you?[shows the mp3] I was wondering who it belonged to. I found it by the campfire pit. You must’ve dropped it.

Eva: Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you!

Heather: Sure thing.

(Confessional: Heather)

Heather: Turn a team against their own member, easiest trick in the book.

(Confessional Off)

Eva: So… Sorry about that little… Misunderstanding. Guess no one stole it after all. Okay. Maybe I overreacted a little. [chuckles awkwardly]

cut to the elimination cerimony.

Chris: You’ve all cast your votes and made your decision. There are only 9 marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately return to the Dock of Shame, catch the Boat of Losers, and leave. And you can never come back. Ever. The first marshmallow goes to Duncan. Bridgette. Courtney. Katie and Sadie.

Katie and Sadie squeal

Chris: Tyler. Heh. DJ. Geoff. Campers, this is the final marshmallow of the evening.

[dramatic music]

Chris: Harold! Eva, the Dock of Shame awaits.

Eva: Nice. Really nice. Who needs this stupid TV show anyway?! (Kicks Chris in the shin)

Chris: Oof! Owww! Have a good sleep tonight. You’re all safe.

(Confessionals Onn)

Courtney: See, I told you. You can’t act like a total raging psychopath and then expect people to just forgive you! No matter how tough and strong and fast you are, she’s never gonna have a career if she doesn’t get her act together.

Heather: So Eva was one of their strongest players. And now she’s gone. I am so running this game.

(confessionals Off)

Courtney: Buh-Bye, Eva!

Eva grunts and throws a wood stick at them.

[whoosh, sproing]

Courtney: Touchy!

[boat motor runs, taking Eva away.

Eva: I guess my temper got the better of me. Again. But whatever. They just lost their fiercest competitor, I hope they realize that.

Courtney: To The Killer Bass! And to not ending up here again next week.

Owen snores on a beavers lair.

Owen farts

[Sasquatchanakwas sniffing]

[thud]

[fart]

ur welcome <3

OOOOA DRAMA

thank you <3

#downs coca cola #fuckwherearemysocks approaches #mutuals ! #long post #tf why do the cameramen want to follow him to the bathroom #kinda sus if u ask me #kinda fruity