#who else thinks that Thomas Jefferson is hot??

[leupagus]

Three-Legged Puppy Fics

List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them.

Home to the Weary: Merlin, Gwen/Morgana, 2010.

I wrote this at the request of a friend who wanted, I think, something Gwen-centric. Because I was not a fan of the show I decided to focus on an AU in which Gwen backflipped out of that whole situation and founded her own sort of kingdom, only meeting the terrible trio years later. It was really fun and was the first time I'd ever tried writing a fic that hinted at a larger world going on around the characters, if that makes sense. This one's a little pretentious but you can definitely see my "style" as it were.

Treads on the Ground: Babylon (not the sci-fi show, the short-lived british cop show), Liz Garvey/Finn Kirkwood, 2022.

This was written during my Bertie Carvel phase where I'd watched "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell" and was desperate for something, anything, that didn't have him wearing terrible prosthetics or playing a psycho. He still sort of plays a psycho in this show, but he looks super hot and angry all the time which is really all I needed. (Also bonus hilarity: Liz's boyfriend in this show is played by none other than James Lance, playing "louche asshole" to the absolute hilt.) Anyway I wrote this because I really wanted a fake dating AU for these two AND a "Finn is secretly in line to the throne" fic and this was the perfect way to combine these two. I'm still legitimately really proud of thsi fic.

The Bright Relief: 1776 musical, John Adams & Thomas Jefferson (and a little bit of / in there, if I'm honest), 2010.

I wrote this because my friends waldorph and screamlet and I were having the Summer of 1776 Feelings and we all wrote various (wonderful) crimes and misdemeanors in that fandom, mostly revolving all the ways in people who love John Adams make fun of him. That was a truly terrible summer but made a whole lot better by those two, and by William Daniels being the most John Adams to ever John Adams. (I actually rewatched the miniseries a few months ago and Paul Giamatti does a great job but that thing is SO DREARY. Although I will say Stephen Dillane first caught my eye in the role of TJeff, aka once again playing a guy who's down real bad for someone smarter than him (in this case both Abigail AND John). The scene where he first meets Abigail is just nonstop flirting, with John making faces in the background. It's great.)

Happy Tails To You (Until We Meet Again): SGA, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, 2009.

Oh lordy — probably the worst fic I've ever written, but I can't quite bring myself to delete it. I've been on the periphery of fandom for most of my adult life (what up X-Files yahoo groups and Prodigy Star Trek RP rooms), but SGA was what made me start thinking of writing fic after a long period of only reading it. (Yes, there is college-era gus fic out there. No, I'm not posting it on AO3.) I never quite got a handle on Sheppard or McKay but I did enjoy writing this and the other SGA fic I wrote, but yeah this deserves its obscurity.

Honey Now I'm Not One To Complain: Dalgliesh, Adam Dalgliesh/Kate Miskin, 2022.

Another one of my "Bertie Carvel is extremely attractive when he's sad and/or a cop" flash-fandoms, although I wrote a pretty good primer on the first season that I think gives a good case for the show as a whole. I wanted to write that largely because the show is so resolutely grim and I prefer stories that are... not grim, so I gave myself the challenge of putting these guys into one of the classic tropes. I did toy with the fake dating/marriage trope but honestly I think this was funnier, and I would always rather commit to the bit.

Tagging uhhh let's see, @laiqualaurelote, @themardia, @sadcypress, @auntieclimactic, and @eyebrowofdoom, if they (or anyone else) wants to do this.

#three-legged puppy fic appreciation #ficcage of interest #...very very slight interest

[fryingpan1234567]

Riordanverse outfit headcanons because I said so and I may have accidentally fallen down a rabbit hole

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex Fierro does not own a single “bad” piece of clothing. Things that clash? Absolutely. But they don’t make bad outfits; not once.

Jason Grace cuts off the sleeves (and sometimes bottoms) of at least half his hoodies. So they’re all muscle shirts/ cropped muscle shirts because Leo says he’s hot they’re “easier to move in”.

The first time Percy Jackson dyed his hair, it was because he lost a bet. But he kind of fell in love with those blue streaks, and from then on, he redyed it every few weeks when the color stared to fade, even reaching out to other colors. Eventually he asked the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins to come up with a formula for a hair dye that shifts colors every few weeks and doesn’t come out by anything but magic.

Sadie Kane is slowly evolving into a blue and pink version of Alex. Her hair is choppy and blue, her fashion sense is becoming some kind of bubblegum E-girl Frankenstein. Carter is half scarred and half impressed.

Hazel Levesque is the most cottagecore bitch you’ll ever meet- sweaters, button ups, skirts, soft colors and patterns. She sometimes carries around a basket with like snacks and random wildflowers she’s picked. She’s the only Roman demigod anyone’s witnessed fighting in a poofy dress atop a horse, kicking ass like normal.

Magnus Chase wears too much brown. Hearth thinks it’s hilarious, Blitz calls him hopeless. Once Hotel Valhalla Green is added to the mix, the Floor 19 group start jokingly calling him a patch of moss.

Eventually, Alex convinces Thomas Jefferson Jr. to start dressing more modern, but he always finds a way to put his own twist on it. Navy blue jacket over the top of his outfit. Worn brown combat boots are a common sight. Sometimes he just outright wears his infantry hat around the mortal world.

Leo Valdez has pretty standard engineer-type clothes- stained T-shirts, jeans, Converse and Vans. But on Día de los Muertos, he completely full sends. Skull makeup, lots of colors, whether or not it’s a steampunk lookin sombrero or flower crown atop his curls depends on the day. He manages to drag the rest of the camp into it, which the other Hispanic campers appreciate, and each cabin has their own ofrenda honoring family and past campers.

Halfborn Gunderson manages to wear zero shirts in public and no one has ever denied him service. He’s too powerful. Enough said.

Piper McLean has learned to absolutely weaponize her good looks. She dresses almost male gaze-y, but she’s about as far from that as you can get. It’s for the feminism. It’s because she knows she can kick anyone’s ass who fucks with her or anyone else she sees. Pink is a power color, and she’ll fight you over that.

Carter Kane dresses like an archaeologist. Whether that’s Laura Dern or a musty museum curator depends on the day, but this chaotic bi dumbass always looks like the smartest person in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ sorry y’all that’s gotta be it lmao

I’ll do a part 2 if you send in a list of characters to do!!

#Riordanverse #Alex Fierro #Jason Grace #Percy Jackson #Sadie Kane #Hazel Levesque #Magnus Chase #Thomas Jefferson Jr. #Leo Valdez #Halfborn Gunderson #Piper McLean #Carter Kane #headcanons

[invisibleraven]

Gotta be larger than life

Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: fairy tale

Pairing: Reggie/Carrie

On AO3!

Definitely stretching the prompt fill on this one, but I got the idea and it wouldn't let go. I am just so fascinated by Carrie Wilson, and this just came to me as a interesting character study with some Sweet Tarts slipped in. Hope you enjoy!

All her life, all Carrie Wilson wanted to be was a princess. Every Halloween or chance to dress up, she demanded a poofy pink dress and a crown from her father who always agreed. Called her princess as a term of endearment and ruffled her honey blonde hair when he did.

Thankfully no one questions little girls about why they wanted to be a princess.

It wasn’t the power, no. Even if Carrie got a strange delight in people listening to her, a nice little feeling when she got her own way. But she didn’t need a crown for that.

It wasn’t the riches either. Her dad was a millionaire musician with his face on his very own helicopter. Carrie was dripping in designer fashion and jewels after every gift giving holiday. She literally wanted for nothing.

It wasn’t even because she longed for some handsome prince, even if she did want to be saved occasionally. Swooning over the pictures in her books over the hero pressing tender kisses to the princess’ hand.

But none of those were the real reason Carrie longed to be a princess.

Princesses didn’t have mothers who left you on a doorstep at three days old with a note not to bother to find them. And no amount of wasted birthday wishes or pleas to Santa was bringing Paige Shepard back.

Princesses had fathers who were busy ruling kingdoms but were still there. Not off touring the country or off on some meditation retreat, leaving her to be raised by nannies and maids. Living off tofu and kale in a tasteless, sugarless existence because her father got hung up on eating healthy as a teen.

Princesses didn’t grow up lonely, unloved, and feeling like they were never enough. So Carrie dreamed of a life where she was royalty, pushed down all those bad feelings, and kept her head up high, wearing her imaginary crown to keep going.

Because maybe she didn’t live in a fairy tale, but Carrie was still gonna damn well try for that happy ending.

As she grew, Carrie still wanted to be a princess. Only a pop princess who ruled the stage with her killer lyrics and well choreographed dance moves. Poofy dresses got traded in for hot pink sparkly jackets and a matching wig replaced her tiara.

Now when people called her princess, it wasn’t said lovingly with a gentle smile and a pat to the head (her dad was the only one allowed to touch her hair like that to this day, anyone else who even tried got cut down by her killer glare). Now it was said with derision, like she was some prissy stuck up brat, who thought herself better than anyone.

Well she was, but she never tried to act like it… well not that much.

But at night, when she stripped off the Pink Candi costume, hung up her wig, and snuggled under her covers-Carrie sometimes cried, because words hurt, and she hated that they twisted her dream into something ugly, something to be mocked. Her security became a wound more than armour.

That was, until she met Reggie Peters.

Reggie was a year above her, but after Thomas Jefferson High burned down, their students got shoved into Los Feliz, and so Reggie had to finish out his senior year at a new school. She ran into him on the first day, wandering the halls, looking confused and alone, and completely out of place in his ripped jeans and leather jacket.

“Hi there, I was wondering if you could help me?” he asked as Carrie’s eyes met his. They were a light green, making Carrie think of a springtime meadow.

“I can try,” she said. Normally she wouldn’t be one to help anyone-had to look out for number one after all. But he had this sad, lost puppy quality to him, so Carrie offered up her services. She had always had a thing for pathetic animals, even if she hid how often she volunteered at the animal shelter because it didn’t fit the persona she wanted to give off. Those who had been abandoned had to stick together though, right? Plus at the shelter she could be-and was-loved with no reservations or pretense, something that Carrie desperately needed after long days pretending to be above it all.

Anyways, there was still a lost puppy looking at her, so Carrie shook herself from her melancholy thoughts and faced him, prepared to help one more soul who needed her.

It didn’t hurt that up close she could see the tiny golden freckles that bridged across his face, or the slightly crooked grin that burst forth when she agreed. “Thanks so much,” he said, showing her his schedule. “I’m supposed to report to Mr. Johnson for homeroom, and then someone is supposed to show me around, but I have no clue where his room is.”

“I have Johnson too, so you can just follow me,” Carrie replied. Reggie grinned once more and she tried to ignore how much she liked his smile, the way he ran his fingers through his dark hair with effortless ease, the way he almost bounced as he walked.

They made small talk on the way to class, and Carrie found out that Reggie was a musician, his three best friends and band mates had been transferred here too, but Alex was dating a student here, so they were probably in some broom closet of another, Luke probably skipped, and Bobby was home sick after catching a cold at his lifeguarding job. Thus him being alone today, but he blushed when he glanced at her and admitted he didn’t mind so much right now.

Carrie treasured that blush, the petal soft pink that mimicked the colour of every beloved childhood gown that lived on in her heart. She smiled back, a rare genuine one, pulling on a strand of hair to hide her own matching blush, but from the twinkle in Reggie’s eyes and the small bump to her shoulder, she doubted she succeeded.

“Get a new peon princess?” Kyle Baxter sneered as she passed, and Carrie stiffened, but didn’t even deign to look his way in response.

“Hey dude, lay off, she’s being nice enough to help the new kid out!,” Reggie shot back and then steered them further up the hall. His hand was warm and large at the small of her back, and Carrie felt herself blush even further, but the reasons were muddled. “Ugh, I hate jerks like that.”

“Me too, but I’m used to it by now,” Carrie replied.

“You shouldn’t have to be,” Reggie replied. “You let me know if he tries it again, I have a mean left hook.”

“I don’t think that’s how you want to start out your time here,” Carrie cautioned. “Getting into stupid fights to defend my honour. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Reggie replied, winking at her. “But what kind of knight would I be if I didn’t stand up for my princess?”

Carrie’s heart fluttered at that, at the sincerity in his voice, the way he said princess like it was a title given with honour instead of derision. From him, it sounded sweet, like honey on her tongue while Kyle and everyone else had inspired a bitter taste that had almost ruined the word for her. Yet she couldn’t let Reggie know that, instead keeping her shields up, just in case.

“You’re a knight now?” Carrie asked with an eye roll.

“Technically I’m a half elf paladin,” Reggie amended with a shrug. “Sorry, I like D&D. Kind of a code to stick up for the nobility. Lawful good and all.”

“And I’m a princess?” Carrie asked, a small blossom of hope trying to bloom inside of her.

“Yeah, you’ve got that regal quality about you,” Reggie replied. “Plus I bet you would rock a tiara.”

“Sadly none of them seem to fit anymore,” Carrie said. At Reggie’s questioning glance, she shook her head and waved at the door before them. “Here we are. Home room.”

“Well Your Highness, thank you for escorting this humble knight to the start of his quest,” Reggie said with a deep bow, pressing a tiny feather light kiss to her knuckles that made Carrie blush right to the roots of her hair. “Lemme know if you wanna play D&D sometime, I think you’d like it. You could wear the tiara there.”

“Could my character be a real princess?” Carrie asked, the words slipping out, almost tumbling off her tongue. But she didn’t take them back, just looked at Reggie expectantly.

“I’d expect nothing less,’ Reggie said before entering the room to talk to the teacher.

Carrie wasn’t sure if she walked or floated to her desk, but she definitely knew she spent half of the period staring at Reggie across the room and not being one scrap of attention to anything said. For one moment, she had felt like a princess, and she wasn’t giving that feeling up for anyone, not even if others jeered when they addressed her.

And if she ended up getting a new tiara just so she could play Princess Alaria, her druid princess along with Sir Elton of Suffolk, well, no one could say she wasn’t dressed appropriately. Reggie told her that Luke brought a honest to goodness lute one session, so she’d fit right in.

Sure, Carrie knew she would never be a real princess. Maybe not even a pop one, even if Dirty Candi was in talks with an up and coming manager after their last performance.

But come Homecoming, with Reggie on her arm? She felt like a queen, tiara and all, and he promised that from here on out, their fairy tale would be one beautiful story, with a guaranteed happy ending.

And somehow? Carrie believed him. Fairy tales might not be real, but the prince of a man on her arm who treated her like royalty certainly was, and that was good enough for her.

#my stuff #writing #fanfic #jatp sweet tarts #otp 2023 #year of the otp #julie and the phantoms

[hugintheraven]

What is a real person?

Because I think that's an underrated aspect of the discussion of RPF. Note that I'm not talking about the morality of shipping or anything, just what qualifies something for the #RPF tag in your opinion.

What makes a fictional character? Is it a distinct personal history, a unique name, adopted personality traits not shared by the person performing those traits? Some examples:

Tim Allen, the comedian, is presumably a real person. As is Jerry Seinfeld, the comedian. Tim Taylor and Jerry Seinfeld the TV characters are not real. Dan Rather, the newscaster, he's real. Stephen Colbert the right-wing parody from the Colbert Report? Stephen Colbert from the Late Show? Elvira? Those are debatable, and may not break the same way.

Tom Brady is a real person, and Yuri Katsuki is a fictional character. The Undertaker? Wrestling has writers and storylines and people playing a character, seems fictional to me. Does "John Cena/Dwayne The Rock Johnson" vary in reality with whether you tag it with #FastandFuriousActors vs #WWE? Yes, you can argue about basing it on real vs fictional personalities, but I doubt anyone knows what either of those guys acts like when the cameras are off.

Some Minecraft Youtubers will do 2-year storylines about feuds between friends, complete with secret betrayals, planned events, and scripted cutscenes made by outside animators. Does that make those streamers' in-game personas fictional? What if they're on a server with someone else who literally just builds and chats, no preplanning or persona at all? Is one of them real and the other fictional? Because that gets weird if they interact.

Historical RPF may be even worse. Robin Hood, for example, is fictional. There was a real Robin, but the current understanding is based off an amalgamation of folk tales, themselves based off a mix of real and fictional people and situations. I'm not going to call that real. Abraham Lincoln, clearly real. We've altered our perception of him over the years, but there's a real person there. Thomas Jefferson, black rapper played by Daveed Diggs? Is that legally distinct enough to not qualify as a real person, because Slave Rapist Jefferson would probably object to saying they're the same dude. Cleopatra was by all reports a middlingly attractive woman and a vicious political strategist. If you base her off of a movie where she's a hot sex-fiend with 2 brain cells who slept her way to the top, is that changing her enough to not be RPF? Because I don't want that to be the solution.

And that's before we get into bands like TaTu who are playing roles, reality show stars who clearly are faking everything for the cameras, real people cameoing in scripted media(Bruce Willis in Ocean's 12)...there's an infinite number of edge cases.

I don't know the answer to this. There is a line between real and fictional, there has to be, but every time I look closely at it, it gets blurrier. Anyone else have thoughts?

#RPF #philosophy

[yarart4ever]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! HAMILTON ARRIVED ON DISNEY+ A FEW DAYS AGO WHAAAAAAAAAT!!!?????

as you couldn't tell, I am IN LOVE with Hamilton! the musical got me into discovering the musical fandom! sure I was in love with Hairspray and musicals in general but Hamilton was my first actual music obsession!

this is the LIVE SHOW! just recorded professionally! and Imma do my usual review on it! :3

-lol king george's intro at the beginning! XD

-WHO ELSE BOPPED AND GOT EXCITED DURING THE FIRST SONG IN ACT I: ALEXANDER HAMILTON!?

-I like how the crowd is so respectful to the performers and only laughs and claps when necessary!

-the dance choreography! *chefs kiss* perfecto!

-YO! the actors for John Laurens/Philip, Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson and Hercules Mulligan/ Maddison ARE. FINE! they. are. DADDIES! PERIODT!

-okay but like... the actresses for Angelica and Peggy are also pretty fine! like.. UwU WIFEYS!

-Angelica~, (work, work) Eliza~ and PEGGY! the schuyler sisters~! sorry I had to! TvT

-ANGELICA. IS. A QUEEN! PERIODTTTT!!

-lol everything that comes out of King george's mouth is gold! XD

-RIGHT HAND MAN IS A BOP OH MY GOD! (O///o///O)

-aw, Helpless is so wholesome I love it! <3

-okAY BUT SATISFIED IS MY FAVORITE SONG AND IT'S WHAT GOT ME INTO THE HAMILTON FANDOM! I KNOW THE SONG WORD FOR WORD ISTG-

-lmao who else died at raise a glass reprise cuz... XD it got me!

-WAIT FOR IT IS MY SECOND FAVORITE SONG!! (>///o///<) but like show me mother theodosia pls! T^T

-"I'm a general! WEEEE"  Charles Lee~  best quote by far!

-  the way! John Laurens! looks at Alexander! jesus why does he have to be so attractive!?

-damn Alexander got daddy issues! O_O

-that would be enough almost made me cry what??

-EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR AMERICA'S VERY HOT FIGHTING FRENCHMAN!... wait that's not the lyrics..

-damn! dying is easy, but living is harder... that hit different! :'(

-THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN!! HOLY THAT SONG SLAPSSSS!!

-oml Hercules Mulligan's solo (O///_///O) and he sticks his tongue out too! he's a aggressive top hottie and I am living for it!!!

- what comes next was totally foreshadowing for when Trump becomes president. like, "when your people say they hate you, don't come crawling back to me"! like yo! foreshadowing or what??

-aw dear theodosia! my third favorite song! you know, ever since I heard this I wanted to name my child theodosia so that I could sing her this song as a lullaby.

-NO!!! JOHN LAURENS MY HUSBAND!!! T^T </3 I knew he was gonna die anyway cause I've listened to the sundtrack many times but still! and Alexander was so happy singing about his son and then he hears about John's death I'm- :'( I almost cried again during that song... you can probably tell that I love John Laurens..

-NON STOP THO!! LIKE WHAT!?! THIS SONG WAS AWESOME IN THE SOUNDTRACK AND IT'S MORE AWESOME NOW THAT I'M SEEING IT AND SINGING ALONG!! (>///O///<)

~~intermission~~

-okay okay, act II! I'm ready!! give. me. that. tea!

-THOMAS JEFFERSON! HOLY SH!T HE'S HOT!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!

-OH! AND HE DOES THE KISS!! excuse me while I faint of fangirling...

-aw, poor Maddison is sick. lol corona?? I'm telling y'all they knew what was gonna happen in 2020! like even John wanted to help end black slavery and then there was that george floyd situation now and just... foreshadowing all over! :T

-HOLY CRAP YO THERE'S AN ACTUAL RAP BATTLE!! XD WHAAAATT??? like Jefferson and Hamilton got them mics, they be all up in each other's face roasting each other like bro!

-"turn around, bend over I'll show you where my shoe fits!" OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH! GET ROASTED JEFFERSON BAM WHAT??

- lmao why the fnck do they have an grown a$$ man playing a 9 year old?? XD

-okay, I love the sister dynamic for Angelica and Eliza! they're so cute! and I like how no one questions that even though their races are different they're still related. and it bothers me that people nitpick about that. like leave them alone, they are sisters! periodt!

-oh no it's say no to this... I hate this song... I can't believe Hamilton had an affair with someone he doesn't even know! who cares if she's hot?? you're MARRIED!

-and wait... ain't that the actress who played Peggy in the last act?? sheesh no wonder she's so attractive!

-look at this dude saying "lord show me how to say no to this, I don't know how to say no to this"! LIKE BOI! just say no! tf?? it doesn't matter if she's a fncking model! if I was married to a kind hearted, gentle and just generally an amazing person Like Eliza, and a woman pulled me in their bed and said "stay~" I would've  been like "HAHA nope! peace out my guy, I'm already taken thank you very much and they do it to me better than you ever did! periodt!" and I would leave. it's that easy!

-"and her bodies screaming hell yes" BOI IF YOU DON'T KEEP YOUR D!CK IN YOUR PANTS AND GO HOME ALEXANDER I SWEAR TO FnCKING ALLAH......

-and he fncked up... that's it... I'm done!! Deuses! *gives peace sign and leaves*

-no one else was in the room? okay we getting hype now! XP

-damn Aaron Burr is a great dancer! XD

-oh sh!t oh sh!t there's another rap battle! same people too... everyone take cover! seriously this is not a drill!

-damn! okay did not hear this yet?? uhm so.... Hamilton snapped. and not the good type of snapped too... the moment he was given a opportunity to speak he literally shouted "YOU MUST BE OUTTA YOUR GODDAMN MIND!" and when I tell you I shook....

-"daddy's callin'.." oKAY FIRST OF ALL HOW WRONG DOES THAT SOUND TO YOU??

-lol when Burr came on stage and started singing, Jefferson was so confused he was like "bruh the hell did you come from??" and I died! XD

-oh sh!t Burr and Jefferson are joining forces- LOOK OUT EVERYONE AS THEY BRING THE THUNDER!

-YO THE RAPPING IN THIS SONG IS LIKE WOWZAH! LIKE BARS BRO! :D LIKE FnCKING M&M IS QUAKING!

-"sir, I don't know what you heard but WHATEVER IT IS.... Jefferson started it.." LMFAO ALEX I SWEAR TO GOD XD

-one last time oh no I'm scared this song is gonna make me cry isn't it??

-YEP I WAS RIGHT! I'M CRYING NOW! GREAT!

-George Washington's voice is so powerful oh my lord... and oop! he's crying too! also great! :'D

-my hEART T^T-

-King George Istg STOP! XD

-also yay, I like how they used a woman for the guard/right hand man to the king! as a feminist... I approve UwU

-who else flinched when the king started laughing........ because I did....

-"sit down John you FAT MOTHER FnCKER!" oop... was not expecting that!

-NO ALEX DON'T TELL THEM THEY'RE JOINING FORCES YOU'RE DEAD IF YOU TELL THEM THAT- aaaaaaaand you told them... smart.. real smart -_-

-okay but Thomas' reaction was even more funny on screen then in the sound track X'D

-welp... now Burr's gonna tell everybody.. oh wait no.. ALONG with Jefferson and Maddison... good job, Alexander..

-holy sh!t the reynolds pamphlet! he actually wrote it down?? I mean I knew this happened but STILL! WHAT THE FnCK, HAMILTON?!?

-Jefferson is getting to hype for this I swear XD

-OH CRAP ANGELICA IS HERE!

-"all the way from London? DAYUM!" that's me!

-damn, work it, King George! XP

-YEAH DAMN RIGHT HIS POOR WIFE ELIZA DIDN'T DESERVE THIS! >:(

-aw man, Burn hit's different! especially when you catch your ex cheating on you. if that ever happens, LISTEN TO THIS SONG! trust me!

-I feel so bad for her.. :(

-Philip saying "the scholars say I got the same virtuosity and brains as my pops, the ladies say that's not where the resemblance stops~" MADE ME DIE! LIKE ON THE SPOT! NO JOKE!

-the ladies are getting hype for Philip and honestly I CAN SEE WHY! HE'S A DADDY! DUNNO! UwU

-OOF! BEEF!

-he got shot AGAIN!?!

-he dies AGAIN!?!

-WHY DOES THIS HANDSOME BOI KEEP DYING?? LET HIM LIVE BRO!! T^T

-poor Eliza...

-oh god please no not it's quiet uptown! Imma cry again!

-oop... and now I'm crying again... ain't that fun! :'D

-the way they held hands at the end! T^T be still my heart!

-DAYUM! Hamilton chose JEFFERSON over Burr! oof, that's gotta sting!

-"you know what we can change that, you know why?" me: why? "because I'm the president.." me: *blushes and sweats*.... uh.. ahem... welp, that's enough convincing for me you got it sir!  I am so sorry... TvT

-oh no they about to duel! oh sh!t oh sh!t! I'm scared!

-lol A. Ham! XD I'm sorry I just find that so funny! HAM! AHA do I look like a Christmas meal to you?? lmao

-he's... HE'S AIMING HIS PISTOL AT THE SKY! BURR HOLD UP DON'T SHOOT DON'T-

-... he shot Hamilton...

-seriously Burr??

-Eliza has been through many heartbreaks right now..

-oh this is my 5th favorite song. who lives who dies, who tells your story... I'm gonna cry again, aren't I?

-yep! definitely just cried! that song always hits home for me..

I love this musical so much! no words can describe how much it means to me. so I suggest you listen to the soundtrack yourself, if you haven't and tell me how you feel about it. c:

#I feel a rollercoaster of emotions #i criiii #who lives who dies who tells your story #hamilton #hamilton the musical #they added hamilton to disney+ #we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes #alexander hamilton #the schuyler sisters #i'm in love with musicals #musical #musical fangirl #extreme fangirling #who else thinks that Thomas Jefferson is hot?? #who else thinks John Laurens is hot?? #who else thinks Hercules Mulligan is hot?? #the revoltuion #dear theodosia #musical fandom

[deja-you]

ten ways to say (i love you)

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Thomas has never liked the conventional way of saying ‘I love you.’

word count: 6.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, high school, karen

masterlist

1.

There is no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to your first class.

In Y/n’s defense, she had left her house early. For once in her life she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time, Y/n allowed herself to stop at a drive thru and pick up a drink as a reward. Everything was going according to plan. 

That is, until the Karen in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it. To make sure she didn’t mess up Karen’s order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow. Y/n groaned as she watched the time tick by minute by minute. Just her luck.

Y/n watched the barista hand the drink to the Karen and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, Karen’s car didn’t move. She had her drink, but Karen continued to talk with the barista. Y/n cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel. She must have been more aggressive than she was expecting, because she accidentally honked her horn. 

She jumped back in shock at the loud noise. Karen poked her head out of her window and immediately began lecturing Y/n on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what Y/n assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear the Karen with her windows rolled up. Y/n bit her lip, gave the Karen a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually Karen had finished her rant and left the drive thru. Y/n got her drink, no longer a reward, more like a consolation now, and sped to school. There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time Y/n arrived, remind her of just how late she was. Y/n shoved all her materials in her backpack, locked her car, and quickly walked into the building. 

Of course, Y/n’s first class just had to be with Mr. Rousseau. Any other teacher would just let her tardiness slide. She opened the door to Mr. Rousseau’s classroom, and any conversation that was being had stopped. More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and Y/n wanted to melt right there and then.

“Miss L/n, nice of you to join us.” Mr. Rousseau addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning against his desk as he sized her up. “If you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.”

Y/n swallowed roughly, and nodded. Rousseau went back to lecturing the class on how his class would be run, and Y/n did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. She instinctively made her way over to where her best friends, Abigail and Thomas were sitting. 

Thomas moved his backpack off the desk next to him, and mouthed, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks.’ 

Abigail leaned forward and whispered, “Mr. Rousseau wasn’t very amused with you being late, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” Y/n insisted. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t hate you, hon’.”

“Thomas is right,” Abigail said. “Mr. Rousseau doesn’t hate you especially. Everyone knows he just hates women.”

2.

Late night study session was code for hanging out at John Adams’s house and messing around.

Abigail was dating John, so Y/n was friends with him and his friends by association. Abigail, Dolly, and Y/n were actually trying to study. John and James were discussing the football team’s chances of winning their next game. Martha and George had snuck off to get freaky somewhere. 

“Okay, Dolly.” Abigail held up a flash card. “What can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Um, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” Dolly replied lazily. 

“No. Well, I guess you’re not completely wrong...”

Y/n threw her body against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay here any longer, Y/n would throw herself out a window. Not that she didn’t want to hangout with her friends. After a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she spent the whole day with. If it wasn’t for her fragile social status, Y/n would have already been home in her bed right now.

“Sorry m’late, had to drop my sister off at a gymnastics class. Or fencing. Or Italian. Honestly, I can’t remember.” Thomas walked into the living room where everyone was hanging out.

“Ah, yes. I had almost forgot that the Jeffersons are all overachievers,” Y/n said with and eye roll. 

He wore an easy grin as he made his way over to Y/n, leaning against the couch and staring down at her. “What can I say? We’re just built different.”

Y/n scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes again, pretending she was back at home under warm covers. 

“I brought you food.” 

This caught Y/n’s attention. She slowly opened one eye to see if he was telling the truth. Thomas held up a bag of fast food he must’ve picked up on his way over. Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, hon’.” He handed her the bag. “I know you didn’t have time for lunch today, and I know you likely wouldn’t have gotten around to eating anything yet.”

Y/n happily pulled out an order of large fries out of the bag. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are, Thomas?”

“Not often enough.”

“Well. You are amazing. So amazing.”

Y/n finished her fries and was looking through the rest of the bag to see what else he had gotten her when John called out to her. 

“Hey, Y/n,” John said, “what are your thoughts on my cousin?”

“You mean Sam Adams?” Y/n asked. 

“Yep. The very one.”

She shrugged. “He’s cute. Why?”

“He thinks you’re cute. Wanted me to ask if you’re single,” John said nonchalantly. 

Abigail took time away from quizzing Dolly to get invested in the conversation. “She’s very single. Right, Y/n? You and Sam would be so cute together!”

Y/n could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and she suddenly found the hardwood floors very interesting. “I don’t know... he really thinks I’m cute?”

“S’what he said,” John replied. “Can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a shrug. “Yeah, why not?”

“Y/n and Sam? I totally ship it,” Dolly said.

“Right?” Abigail grinned. “They’re going to be such an attractive couple.”

“Okay, can we stop talking about this now? I’m here to study,” Y/n insisted, pulling out a textbook.

“I’d rather not fail tomorrow’s test,” Thomas agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Thomas took that moment to sit next to Y/n on the couch. She was flipping through the pages of her textbook before she came to a stop. Y/n passed the textbook to Thomas and pointed to the painting on the page.

“Look, this one’s my favorite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” Thomas read. “You’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich, then?”

Y/n shrugged. “I’m just a fan of the Romantic movement in general. Everything was just so creative, and beautiful, and emotional. There’s just so much feeling in this painting. It’s overwhelming.”

Thomas frowned looking back at the painting, and then back to Y/n. “It certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Thomas watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. Finally, he decided to say what was on his mind. 

“So, you and Sam Adams, huh?” He nudged her gently with his shoulder.

Y/n bit her lip and focused on a peculiar tchotchke the Mrs. Adams had decorated the living room with. “I guess. I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

“That’s right. Abbie and I spent most of science class teasin’ you about that. No wonder you’re so bad at physics now.”

She frowned and playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “I’m not bad at physics.”

“Really?” Thomas considered her with eyebrows raised. “Remember that botched science experiment that nearly killed Mr. Newton?”

“Can we not talk about that? He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

He hid an amused look. “Whatever you say, honey.”

3.

You’re tired. The sheets are too hot. It’s been a long day, your body is exhausted. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Your mind is tired, too. The sheets are too hot. If you just close your eyes and stop thinking you’ll be asleep in minutes. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Not thinking isn’t exactly easy. The sheets are too hot. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how -- damn you, Sophocles, and your terribly beautiful words. 

Thomas threw his covers off his body and sat up in bed. He wasn’t going to get much sleep no matter how hard he tried. Thomas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there had been any sleep to begin with. 

There was no doubt that he was tired mentally and physically. Emotionally? His heart was eternally restless. He crossed his room to sit at his desk, fully accepting that sleep wasn’t a viable option anymore. 

The blue light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of his room, but his eyes adjusted quickly. Thomas didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

His fingers knew. They opened up an application and began scrolling. No, no, no, yes. Perfect. No, no, no, no, no, yes. This is her. And this went on for an hour or so, Thomas lost track of time. He’d be tired tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he was finished. 

When he actually was finished, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calm washed over him, and before he knew it, Thomas was back in his bed falling asleep. 

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as a Jefferson could look. He had still had the sense to dress nicely, collared shirt, sweater, ironed pants, polished dressed shoes. Thomas was still sharp as ever in all his classes, but anyone who really knew him could tell he was a mess. 

“You okay, Thomas?” Y/n asked at lunch in Mr. Locke’s classroom (Mr. Locke was kind enough to let a group of moody teenagers eat lunch in his class, the lunchroom just wasn’t cool enough for them).

“Hm? Yeah. I’m great.”

Y/n cocked her head to the side. “You sure? You seem tired.”

“Don’t worry about me. Actually, I have something for you.” Thomas fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Yeah, I’m sending it now. Check your phone.”

She raised an eyebrow, but Y/n opened up her phone to check the text Thomas had sent her. 

“Sophocles and Serotonin.” Y/n read aloud. “What is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs I thought you might like.”

“Seriously?” A smile played on her lips; Thomas couldn’t help but reflect it. “When did you have the time for this?”

He shrugged. “I have more free time than you’d think.”

“With all your APs, varsity sport, and extracurriculars? I highly doubt that.” Y/n looked up at him, a teasing lilt transparent in her tone. “I appreciate the playlist even more, knowing you took time out of your rigorous schedule to create it. Thanks, Thomas.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on to press a kiss to his cheek. Thomas froze like a deer in headlights, and if Y/n noticed, she didn’t say anything. He put himself back together before she could notice he was momentarily put-off, and leaned back against another desk in an attempt to look cool.

“S’what do you have planned for after school?” He asked in his best nonchalant voice. 

“Well, Sam and I are going to go see a movie.”

“That’s still a thing, then?”

Y/n shot him a look that had him raising his hands up in surrender. “Yes, it’s still a thing. I really like him, okay? He’s a good guy.”

“But is he good enough for you?” Thomas crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her’s. It wasn’t that Thomas didn’t like Sam. Sam was great. It was just a fact that no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend. 

“He is.” She said with an eye roll. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Hon’, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Oh trust me, I know.”

4.

Summer had felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago. The yellow leaves and the updated fall Starbucks menu were enough to convince anyone that it had always been October. 

It had taken a lot of convincing and a little bit of bribery to convince Thomas to attend the Homecoming football game, but with the assistance from Abigail, Y/n had eventually gotten Thomas to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there. 

Of course she could have taken her own car, but Y/n would rather not waste her own gas when she could use Thomas’s instead. It’s not like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, his Mercedes Benz had a seat warming function that Y/n couldn’t get enough of. 

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over his seat warmers, and Thomas spent most of the ride making fun of how excited she was about seat warmers. Eventually, they parked outside of the stadium, and Thomas paid for their entrance fee into the stadium.

“It’s co--” before Y/n could finish her sentence, remarking on the obvious cold weather, Thomas had handed her a sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at Thomas, her mouth slightly open. “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t have to ask,” he shrugged. She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Thomas glanced at, bit the inside of his lip, and shook his head. “Now, don’t go thinking I care about you or somethin’ like that, hon’. Couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d be cold.”

She looked at him with a smug smile on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place. “Yeah? Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all.” He was doing his best to act annoyed by all her questioning, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing. When he came up with another argument, he added on, “besides, ma would be upset with if she knew I let you freeze. It seems like she loves you more than she loves me sometimes.”

“That’s because she does,” Y/n pointed it out like it was obvious. “Can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man I have to drag to football games.”

“That’s it. Give the sweatshirt back. I hope you freeze.” Thomas was giving her the dirtiest look he could muster. Y/n had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her purse, and after some digging around, she pulled out a five dollar bill from her wallet. Y/n thrusted the money into Thomas’s hand and pushed him in the direction of the concession stand. “Here. Go get us some popcorn, maybe you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you. I’m going to go find some seats.”

Thomas grumbled something about “not being irritable” but nonetheless ventured off toward the concessions. Y/n climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Abigail sitting in the student section, all decked out in school colors and face paint. Abigail greeted Y/n with a warm hung, then holding her at an arms length, she took note of what her best friend was wearing.

“Is that Thomas’s sweatshirt?” Abigail asked.

Y/n looked down at the the University of Virginia sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself. “Hm? Oh yeah, it is.”

Abigail pursed her lips and mulled over this new information. “What’s going on between you and Thomas?”

“What d’ya mean? We’re friends.” Y/n pursed her lips. 

“And Thomas knows that?” Abigail observed Y/n. “Do you know that?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Sam now, okay? Thomas and I have always just been friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Abigail held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. If you say so, I’ll believe you. I just don’t want any feelings to get hurt between the two of you.”

“There are no feelings between the two of us,” Y/n said, but she wouldn’t stop thinking about Abigail’s words for the rest of the night.

5.

All week, Thomas had dreamt about the mint chocolate chip ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer. 

It was his favorite flavor, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl. He had promised himself he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he had really deserved it. After spending a productive hour studying for the test he had tomorrow, Thomas decided he had finally earned that delectable bowl of artificially colored green ice cream. 

He made his way to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks. Thomas had made it all the way to the freezer when there was a knock at the front door. 

Thomas paused. He was so close to getting his ice cream. Maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the bowl or ignoring and continuing to dish himself ice cream. Thomas was leaning toward his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the fridge and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Y/n?” He said in surprise when he opened the door.

“Hi, Thomas. I didn’t know who else to come to. Abigail’s out with John right now. Dolly and Martha aren’t good in situations like this,” she was speaking quickly, sniffling between sentences, and trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheeks. “I just--”

He interrupted Y/n by pulling her into his house and his arms. Y/n melted into his touch, her hands gripping his shirt as she hugged him back. 

“What happened?” Thomas asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Sam and I broke up.”

Thomas sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip, weighed his options, and came to a reluctant conclusion. Thomas pulled away just enough that he could look Y/n in her bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream, huh?”

She offered him a miserable smile. “Ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to his kitchen and began digging through the kitchen while she hopped onto the counter to sit. Thomas hid a frown from Y/n while in the process of pulling out the nearly empty carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“So you want to tell me what happened?” Thomas asked, pulling out a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t a bad breakup.” Despite her words, Y/n still wiped at her tears with the sleeves of her shirt. “We mutually agreed it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “He’s just not... he’s not the one.”

Thomas felt something twist and turn in his stomach, but he knew it wouldn’t be right to be happy when his friend was so miserable. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form in the corners of his mouth. “M’sorry about that, honey.”

“I know it was the right decision,” she said, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt not to let any more tears stream down her face. “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.”

“It’s normal to be upset after a break up,” Thomas shrugged.  

“You’re not going to have any ice cream?” Y/n asked quietly as he handed her a singular bowl.

“Not in the mood for it,” he lied. 

6.

“You get enough sleep last night, hon’?”

Y/n was in mid-yawn when he asked her the question. She held a hand over her mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him. “Wow. Just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re a charmer, Thomas Jefferson?”

“You’d be surprised.” He gave her a teasing smile. “So who’s the cause for your sleepless nights?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She held up her textbook for him to see. “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you like spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch.” Thomas held a hand over his heart. “You really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone’s as gifted as Thomas flippin’ Jefferson.”

“Flippin’?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school. Gotta keep it PG, right?” She shrugged. “So yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a good amount of sleep. S’not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. I’ll make you a Quizlet next time so you can get more sleep.”

Y/n was about to say something in response when her phone began ringing in her pocket. “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Thomas turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his smile. 

“Thomas.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Abigail sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? Thomas had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he would be certain not to share with her.

“Yes, Abbie?”

“Do you have a crush on Y/n?” 

Thomas blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Abigail right. “Excuse me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You heard me right, Jefferson. Do you have a crush on Y/n?”

“Y/n? Where’d you get that idea?” Thomas made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re always following her around and doing whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention you always call her “hon’,” seems pretty affectionate to me.” Abigail had a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since I can remember, of course I care about her. So what if I have a nickname for her? Doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you ‘Abbie’. I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S. Are you really telling me you don’t like Y/n?”

“I don’t like Y/n.” And it wasn’t exactly a lie, because the feelings he had for Y/n had progressed far beyond liking. 

7.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” Y/n said, pulling out a ball of azure colored yarn.

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall. “Sure, ‘cept maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student. My only income comes from birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure Abigail will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” Y/n muttered, staring at the mess of strings in her lap.

Thomas’s eyes widened a little. “You telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“How hard could it be?” She pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, Y/n had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help.”

“You know how to knit?” Y/n raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Thomas rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands. “This is crocheting. You don’t even have knitting needles.”

“Apologies. You know how to crochet?” 

“Lucy went through a stage where she was really into crocheting,” he shrugged. Thomas had quickly untangled Y/n’s “progress” and began to expertly thread together loops of yarn. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form. “See? Perks of growing up with sisters.”

“I hate that you’re good at everything.” 

He snorted and gently began to move the work into Y/n’s hand for her to finish the rest. “’M’not good at everything. Just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Y/n was now laser focused on the project in front of her, determined to get it right this time. Thomas would advise her, but for the most part he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“You’re never going to get it like that, hon--” Thomas caught himself, remembering the conversation he had had with Abigail earlier. “Y/n. You’re never going to get it like that, Y/n.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows. “What?”

He swallowed roughly and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just... You’re going to want to pull the yarn tighter or it’s all going to unravel later.”

“Oh. Thanks, Thomas.”

8.

It was 2 a.m., and Y/n had already came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going to get more than five hours of sleep. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe a dozen times now, but it wasn’t like anyone was posting in the middle of the night. Instagram was doing a poor job keeping her mind distracted. 

Lightly biting her bottom lip, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and caved, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, Y/n tapped his contact with her thumb. Her phone began to hum while she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Thomas. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. Y/n frowned when she saw him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. Couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy voice.

“You’re lying. Hey, don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. Don’t let me bother you.”

Thomas stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at Y/n firmly through the camera. “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, yeah? Don’t worry about waking me up. I’d rather talk to you any way.”

Y/n pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. Thomas was too polite to ever tell someone if they were bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he really wanted to talk to her, or if he was just too courteous to tell her otherwise. 

He noticed the look she gave him and rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you don’t believe me. Would’ve stopped bein’ friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing. Promise.” Thomas shot her a smug smile that made her wish she hadn’t called. 

“So kind of you,” she said sarcastically. 

“I try.” His grin widened, if that was even possible. “So what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t?” Thomas narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted, uncomfortable by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved. “I can’t stop thinking about how you called me ‘Y/n’ earlier today?”

He tensed up but the action was barely noticeable. “What about it? It’s your name.”

“Sure,” she nodded, “but you never call me ‘Y/n.” It’s always ‘hon’’ or ‘honey.’ Always. Did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, ‘course not. Everything’s fine.” He paused. “That really upset you? Me calling you ‘Y/n’?”

“It’s just not normal.”

“It’s not normal for people to call you by your name?”

“It is, but you are supposed to call me ‘honey.’ Okay?”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop an amused smile from spreading on his lips. “Okay, honey.”

9.

“I’m finally going to get to see your mural, then?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “It’s not my mural, Y/n. It’s the senior mural. It’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea.” She gave him a playful nudge. “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the great Thomas Jefferson designed it, it’ll be the best Senior mural ever seen at Charlottesville High School.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, hon’. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re Thomas Jefferson.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Henrietta Johnston, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colorful hand prints standing above the blue-gray sea.

Y/n stared at the mural with an open mouth. She looked from Henrietta to Thomas, then back to the wall in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colorful with handprints,” Thomas said. “Thought it would be nice to let our class to literally leave a mark on this school.”

Henrietta smiled at the mural and set down her paintbrush. “It was a good idea. The splash of color is just what it needed. What do you think, Y/n? Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. It’s... it’s perfect.” She turned to Thomas with wide eyes. “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. This is my favorite painting.”

“I noticed -- don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much. You just never shut up about that painting. It’s annoying, really,” Thomas muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the ground.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the painting, and Thomas was glad. 

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Thomas was flustered. If Y/n had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t say anything. 

10.

Charlottesville High School was filled with rich kids. The Charlottesville High School debate team had a minimal amount of members. These factors resulted in Thomas and Y/n having their own hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating, Thomas and Y/n walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they spared looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Thomas cleared his throat. “So that guy in the green shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him. “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. Told him you snored like an ogre and I gave him Maria’s number instead,” he said with a shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? I don’t snore like an ogre! He was cute and interested in me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

Y/n scowled. “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny and enjoyable to be around. Even if I ‘snore like an ogre’ I���m also extremely attractive, so it makes up for it.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable, honey,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At the same time, Y/n and Thomas turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realized they were only inches apart, he could hear every inhale and exhale. His eyes flicked to her lips. It was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed it. 

Thomas took a step back and cleared his throat. “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed. They both hurriedly stepped into their own rooms. 

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Y/n leaned against her hotel room door. Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook her head and grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe Y/n could stop thinking about it after a good nights rest. She changed and was about to brush her teeth when she felt some kind of nagging feeling inside.

It was naïve to think she was going to get any sleep tonight if she didn’t confront Thomas about it. Y/n set down her toothbrush and made her way out into the fluorescent lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she paused.

Is this really what she wanted to do? If Y/n brought up their almost-kiss, would they be able to go back to friends? Did she even want to go back to friends? Y/n bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should just go to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their friendship in jeopardy. But then again, Y/n would always wonder what could have happened if she didn’t confront him.

She raised her fist to knock on Thomas’s door, but before she could knock, the door swung open. Thomas and Y/n once more stood face to face. She had a wide eyed expression that mirrored Thomas’s.

There was an accelerated heartbeat. A flutter. Thomas’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Y/n’s hand found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to her’s. His eyes were half open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair was all too real. 

Thomas pulled her into his room, kicking the door closed behind them. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. 

Thoughts were racing in Y/n’s mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist tightly -- there would be bruises there the next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss. Y/n came up empty handed.

There was no way Y/n felt the same way, Thomas told himself. There was no way she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with Y/n L/n. And for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her best friend.

Thomas missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were swollen and her hair was a mess. Her bright eyes, and the way light highlighted the softness of her skin. Thomas took that moment to memorize every line and curve of her face, branding the memory into his head. 

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time, sitting up. “Stop. We... we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one time thing.”

“Why not?” Her voice was quiet and delicate.

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw. “Because I love you.”

#modern!au #high school au #hamilton #abigail smith/adams is asian american in this fic and you can't change my mind about that #she's probably prez of the feminists club too #never been on a debate team #i have no idea how it works #maybe that's obvious #ANYway #get it thomas #get it y/n ;) #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #hamilton x reader #x reader #reader insert #just finished this at 2 am #can't remember the last time i did any writing during the day #adjusting to a school schedule is going to be the worst #um #why are you still reading my tags

[anotherhamiltonblog]

The Baker & The Barber

Summary: What happens when Y/N Matches with a cute french guy over Tinder? Why does he look so much like her best friend Thomas Jefferson?

Warnings: French, Alexander being whiny, cursing. 

Word Count: 2.3K

Forever Tag: @i-know-i-can​

ENJOY

Y/N looked at the profile on the stupid app her best friend made her download and almost choked on her Lemonade. Head tilted to the side, she bit down on her lip and looked through the few pictures he had.

“What the hell…” she said under her breath and frowned. “Does Thomas have a twin or something?” She asked herself and rubbed at her forehead. “This guy… with his hair down looks so much like Thomas.”

She couldn’t help herself, swiping right, the bakery owner gasped when it said they ‘Matched’. “Oh god, Thomas will never let me live this own. I just matched with someone who looks… JUST like him.” She said to herself and put her phone down. Trying hard to not think about the app.

Instead, Y/N went to close up and make sure everything was in order for the night. Being Sunday, she usually closed the shop a few hours earlier so she could have a calm evening. Yet, when an overly cocky voice called out from the front of the shop. Y/N sighed.

“Little Miss. L/N.” Thomas’’ voice boomed in the empty shop. “What is THIS on your phone?”

‘oh no…’ Y/N whispered to herself and rushed from the kitchen and through the double doors. Eyes widening in horror as Thomas stood behind the counter, her phone in his hands.

“Who the heck is this and why is he using MY pictures?” Thomas asked and looked at Y/N.

“That’s just the thing, I don’t think he is… he’s from France. The same place you haven’t gone yet…” Y/N sighed and looked at her phone before returning to pack up some of the leftovers.

Placing them in three boxes, one for Thomas and his roommate James, then one for Y/N to take home for her and her own roommate Eliza.

“Hm… so you matched with him then?” she heard her friend say, Y/N could almost hear the smirk on the mans face. “Got something to tell me, Y/N?”

Glancing over her shoulder, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “That French men are sexy, and I hear they are amazing in bed.”

Handing him the box of sweets and sandwiches. Y/N stuck her tongue out at him before giggling and they left the bakery. Getting into Thomas’ car, she buckled in and sighed happily. Glad to be going home.

“I might go visit this barber… I’m in the need of a new trim.” Thomas glanced at Y/N who glared at the male in the drivers seat. “OK. I won’t.” he laughed and started to drive.

“So, Washington’s holding an event in a month. He want’s to know if you can take care of the cake?” Thomas asked, causing Y/N to look at him in shock.

“Me?”

“Mmhm. He loved the cupcakes I took into work a week ago. Said he wanted your expertise on the cake.” That made Y/N giggle and nod her head.

“I’ll do it. Half off.” She pulled out her phone and set a reminder in her planner before seeing the tinder app.

Glancing at Thomas, who was looking at the road. Y/N quickly sent Lafayette a small message before putting her phone away.

By the time she was left off at her apartment building, Y/N pushed herself past the doors and walked the three flights of stairs to get to her floor. “Stupid fucking elevator…” Y/N would mumble each time. “It’s like the stupid Big Bang Theory… why don’t they just fix this shit?”

Finally arriving in her apartment, Y/N entered and set down her bag and box of sweets down at the four seated kitchen table. Humming, she looked at her phone, seeing she had a message from Tinder.

After a few messages and she sent him her number, Y/N moved to her bedroom and changed out of her work clothes and into sweatpants and a lose crop top.

With slippers on her feet, she returned to the kitchen, right on time for the phone to start ringing. Seeing an unknown number, she answered the call.

“Hello?”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Lafayette’s POV:

After a long day at the shop, cutting hair, braiding and the various styles they offer. The Barber shop didn’t take long to become popular. With the help of John, Rafael and Peggy. The four were busy all Sunday, up until the last minute. Peggy of course was happy with the movement; she was learning and being paid to go to school to get her degree in Cosmetology. He had the money to use, why not use it?

But as he was looking at the schedule for the rest of the week, Lafayette glanced at his phone that chimed with a notification. Glancing that it was from tinder, he had a match. Lafayette couldn’t help but grin. Hiding his phone when asked why he was smiling, he simply brushed it off and said it didn’t matter.

On his way home was when his phone went off again. Though, driving. He couldn’t answer. So instead, he waiting till he got home. As he messaged with Y/N, stripping out of his clothes for loose sweatpants and foregoing the shirt. He couldn’t help but grin when she sent her number.

Quickly calling the number, Lafayette waited as the line rang. He looked in his fridge for something to eat, but decided that maybe he would order in. Not in the mood to cook.

“Hello?”

He heard on the other side of the call.

“Bonjour mon cher, uh how are you this evening?” he cleared his throat and shut his fridge door. Only to grin when he head an angelic sounding laugh.

“I’m good, just tired.” He heard her sigh. “Lot’s of orders to fill today. Pretty sure I have two new burn marks… how was your day?”

“I am sorry to hear about the burn…” he frowned slightly. “But we too had a busy day. Lots of people came to get their hair done for the week.”

It was like an ice breaker, showing that they both had a tough day, that’s how Lafayette spent the next three hours. Talking to Y/N. Him asking questions of her bakery, her friends and finding out that she knew Peggy “Her sister is my roommate!” She happily giggled, which made Lafayette grin broadly.

The two of them, each with take out. Y/N with Chinese and Lafayette with pizza, He was happily surprised to see how many hours had passed. “We have been on the phone for three hours.” He told the girl, who ended up letting out a surprised gasp, causing him to grin.

“I can go if you need to do something? I’m probably just gonna shower and end up watching Netflix.”

“Well, mon chérie… I have nothing planned for tonight. Why don’t we hang up and call again in an hour? Maybe we can video chat?” Lafayette asked, hoping he wasn’t coming off too strong.

“That sounds perfect!”

He was happy that she agreed, so once they both hung up. Lafayette cleaned up the mess from the pizza and went to take a shower himself. The hot water relaxing his aching back and muscles. He let out a sigh and stood there under the hot water for a little while longer before washing up and stepping out. Once dry, he threw on some basketball shorts and a random black shirt.

An hour couldn’t have gone by faster, soon they were on video call and Lafayette laughed at the sight of a coffee and a computer screen.

“Did you go and get a coffee?” he asked curious as the camera was flipped.

“Nope! Eliza, Peggy’s sister just got home and brought me a hot chocolate. No more coffee after Nine. Or else I’ll never sleep!” she laughed and bit on her lip at the sight of the man.

“Oui, I agree with that. I have too much coffee sometimes.” He grinned and glanced around his apartment. He lived alone and it was lonely sometimes. He wondered what it would be like to have a roommate.

“So, what are you going to watch?” He asked, remembering seeing the Netflix logo on her computer screen.

“Hmm, I was thinking of seeing Harry Potter.” She shrugged and Lafayette watched her bite down on her lip as she wasn’t looking at the screen. “I’m a huge Potter fan and have yet to go to the Harry Potter World at Disney. It’s sad.”

“Well, I have never watched Harry Potter… or gone to Disney. Maybe we can meet up one day and have a… how you say… a uh, movie marathon!” he nodded and grinned.

“You mean… Netflix and chill?” he watched her face make a cringe.

“Non! No! Just the Netflix part! You have my word, mon chérie!” he quickly said, not wanting her to think all he wanted was to sleep together.

“How about we meet up in person first before making those kinds of plans?”

Nodding, the two fell into comfortable conversation. Her about her childhood and Lafayette told Y/N about his time in France.

As they were both laying in bed talking, Lafayette was flipping through the channels of his tv, telling her the plot of a movie he had seen. That was when he heard the heavy breathing. Looking at his phone, the same phone he took his eyes off for just a minute. Seeing Y/N asleep, he smiled fondly and said a ‘goodnight’ before turning off the call and putting his phone down. Going to sleep himself.

The week went by the same. The two would text and call each other each night after work, deciding to not bother the other while at work, only during their lunch break and in the mornings. Though, her morning always started before his, Lafayette would always wake up to a “Good Morning” message.

Making plans to meet on Saturday, they agreed to have it so they would meet up with a group of friends so it wouldn’t be awkward or anything.

Monday.

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

Thursday.

Friday.

Saturday.

Having met John’s friends throughout the week, they all found time to stop by the Barber shop. Lafayette got along with all of them. They had agreed to go to the bar on Saturday with him and of course, Peggy would bring her sisters along.

“Though, I’m sure Y/N already asked them!” she giggled at Lafayette who glared at her and told Peggy to get back to work. Only so she would stop teasing him.

Now the big day arrived, and he was excited, Y/N had been telling him how she was excited to introduce him to her long-time best friend, Thomas. The same Thomas who she swore he looked alike.

Arriving at the bar in a group of five, Rafael also there with his girlfriend Ashley. They found a large table for their group and a few minutes later, Lafayette went to the bathroom.

Y/N’s POV:

Pacing the outside of the bar with Thomas, Peggy, Angelica and Eliza. Y/N felt like she was going to throw up. “I can’t do this!” she turned to leave, only to be stopped by Thomas and she groaned as she was shoved into the bar. The sisters making way to the table with everyone and Thomas went to the bar with Y/N knowing she was worried.

“It’s gonna be fine, doll… he’s gonna love you, ok? I mean look at you… you’re what the kids call a Cinnamon bun!” he tried to pinch her cheeks, but Y/N slapped his hands away with a pout.

“Bitch…” she huffed and turned. “Get me something to drink, I’m gonna go use the bathroom and try not to throw up.” Without another word, Y/N entered the bathroom to try and calm her nerves.

Thomas’ POV:

As he waited for his drink, Y/N’s drink and the three sisters. Thomas tapped his finger against the bar counter waiting. Watching the game on the tv that was hung up.

“God Lafayette. The sisters I told you about are here… meaning so is Y/N and that Jeffershit. You’re going to Hate him like I do. I can just feel it, that nosy… cocky… son of a ….” Turning around with an eyebrow raised, Thomas looked amused as Alexander let out a loud, somewhat girly shriek.

“I’m sorry, what was that you were saying about me, Hamishit?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Wh- WHY IS YOUR HAIR UP LIKE THAT?” Alexander demanded to know, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

But before he could say anything, he was frozen. Seeing a man who looked just like him standing before him. ‘No wonder dumbass Hamilton got us confused.’ He thought to himself and when Y/N came over as well. She looked between the two man.

“Dude… you got some amazing D.N.A.” Thomas said with a nod of his head, hoping to break the weird silence.

“Merci mon ami… You as well!” Lafayette nodded, only to look at Y/N with a grin. The two, after telling their friends they would find a table to get to know one another.

Thomas was left there with a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Remembering stories of his mother tell him of the twin brother he should have had but he was taken when he was just a baby.

AN: I DID IT! I WROTE MY AU IDEA. WOWOW this is gonna be fun. Should I have started this with all my WIPs??? Probably not, but oh well. I HOPED YOU ENJOYED IT!

AN#2: ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 246 FOLLOWERS!! I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!! this one is for all of you <3

PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK, Reblogs! Hearts!

Send an ASK if you wanna be tagged!!! THIS IS MY SIDEBLOG! My main is @Katierpblogg so if that blog replies, ITS MOI 

#lafayette #john laurens #lafayette x reader #hamilton lams #lams fanart #hamilton fanfic #rafael casal #daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs x ofc #daveed diggs x yn #thomas jefferson #thomas jeffershit #thomas jefferson x reader #marquis de lafayette #marquis de lafayette x reader #alexander hamilton #alexander hamilton x reader #james maddison #Barber AU #Bakery AU #Tinder AU #Hamilton AU #hamilton #peggy schuyler #eliza schuyler

[katie-writes24]

Fell Into The Same Arms

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: Language, implied material, angst, a sliver of fluff, and injured reader.

Part 2

You know what, this is on me, because I was on Pinterest YET AGAIN and came across prompts that made me want to vent!!! So here is this!! Also, I’m really struggling with this one WIP and I jsut wanted to post soemthing, so I don’t even really know if this is “finished” yet. Let me know if you want to be tagged, and give me some feedback. I apologize in advance if I hurt your heart! But...it’ll be worth it I swear!

Rain was in the forecast the entire weekend, and it didn't seem to stop anytime soon on Monday. It took a toll on traffic, that was for sure; the roads were starting to flood and the bus routes were changed unexpectedly. The streets were in no shape for anyone to be out.

But Y/N didn't pay no matter to that. Instead, she kept walking, despite the throbbing in her thigh and the blisters on the back of her heels. She ignored the piercing feeling in her back when she tensed. That pain in the back of her head: didn't bother her. Not now, not when she's in the wet streets alone at night, having someplace to be.

Another lie. It was someplace she needed to be, and maybe she wasn't welcomed, but she had no other option. Every other door that used to be open was now closed after comments like you're better than this and don't come crying to me when I'll only say I told you so were thrown at her.

Y/N should be getting her keys out to unlock her apartment door, heading to the shower and ignoring the worried cries from Hercules. She could even be knocking on the screen door and letting Eliza draw her a bath while they sipped on hot tea. Hell, she was even considering jumping the gate and climbing up to John's window and letting him hold her as she cried herself to sleep.

What was she doing instead? Knocking on the hardwood door in front of her, not knowing what the outcome ahead would be.

Seconds felt like hours before the door was opened quickly, only going so far as the small chain up top would let it. She was met with brown orbs, in a flash they were wide in shock.

She couldn't blame him.

She could only imagine what she looked like, it obviously wasn't a pretty sight if the feeling in her bones had any say in it. But something told her that her appearance was not why he had the reaction.

At this point Y/N believed that he was, in fact, in shock because it's still pouring rain and she can feel her limbs start to grow numb from the cold. He's still staring at her with that look...

"I didn't know where else to go," Her voice sounded raspy even to her, and she guessed it was loud enough for him to hear, considering he shut the door before the sound of a latch being pulled again was heard, and he fully opened the door.

He looked good; dressed in his pajamas, but still good, considering the last time she saw him. He looked fresh out the shower, and she took that as a sign that he didn't have company over.

Thomas hated leaving people waiting. Something they didn't share in common, apparently.

He stepped aside and Y/N didn't waste a second before stepping into the warm house.

"Just- wait a second," Thomas walked down the hallway, soon returning with a towel that he laid across the floor. "Don't want to ruin my floors."

She snorted. Still the same stuck up she remembers. "Could you spare one for me, you think?"

"I was actually going to offer you a shower, and maybe help you patch things up. Looks like you need it," He gestured to her head, which had a small gash, or at least that's what it felt like.

"That'd be nice," She cleared her throat once more, removing her shoes. She stopped after stripping of her jacket, standing awkwardly and hoping to give the man a hint.

Instead, he scoffed and went down the hall again. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before. Just leave your clothes on the towel, I'll throw them in the dryer."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but did as he said. She quickly walked to the bathroom and stepped into the tub. It all looked the same, including the bottle of shampoo he bought her months ago, still in the same spot.

She cleared her throat, mentally shaking herself clear of those warming thoughts.

A few minutes after she turned on the water, she heard a knock on the door, his silhouette behind the curtain.

"I brought a towel, and some fresh clothes," There was some shuffling before he sighed loudly. "Did you eat? Can I get you something?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Y/N cut him short, trying to ignore his caring need that he normally hid from the public. She wasn't any different, not anymore.

"Well, knowing you, you probably had a large coffee this morning and called it a day. And I'm not quite sure what you got yourself into yet, but I'm sure it didn't happen over a meal." Thomas sounded so sure of himself, and damn him for knowing her so well. Her silence gave it away, and he soon clicked his tongue in assurance. "I'll make you something quick."

There was no resisting the water in her eyes. Pain expanded all over her body, she had an excuse. Plus, he couldn't see her get emotional behind the curtain, and there would be no tear tracks on her cheeks later.

It might seem odd to others, to those who see Thomas as a public figure, a politician. He carries power, and never lets anyone outside these doors see his vulnerability. To them, he is a man with high standards and a precise wardrobe.

But she knew the real Thomas.

He was sensitive, caring for others, acting like he was just now. The newspaper titles were full of shit, they didn't have any right to criticize him because that wasn't the real him.

Of course he was passionate about his job and position, but they didn't know what Thomas acted like in the morning. They didn't know what Thomas's favorite meal to have when he's had a long day was. About his constant need to have a book to read before he goes to sleep, no matter what time it is. About what he looked like when he was in complete bliss, when he was really happy....

No, Y/N knew though.

She reached for the shower handle, turning the knob on the cold setting. She finished up washing her hair as quick as she could, then carefully dabbed her body with a washcloth, avoiding direct open wounds.

Stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a rather large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/N found Thomas at the table. He was standing over scattered papers, rubbing his chin softly as he thinks to himself.

While he's distracted, she takes in the house, knowing she really shouldn't, it will only hurt her or, worse, make former feelings reappear. But she can't help but look over to the wall beside him, where dozens of picture frames line up in a pattern. Some are of his parents, some of Thomas and James, there's even a group photo of his colleagues standing before Washington. She remembers how excited Thomas was that day, to finally be getting the recognition he deserves.

She also remembers that there used to be a frame below it, one that held two photos of Y/N and Thomas, holding hands, smiling. She remembers that the photographer wanted their hands close to the lens, getting a good capture of piece of jewelry that looked so simple, but held so much promise.

Was suppose to hold so much promise.

Should she really be sad that he took it down? Y/N didn't deserve to feel angry or disappointed that it wasn't hanging on the wall, to be a constant reminder to anyone that walked by of what used to be.

"Food should be ready soon. I just put it in the oven to warm up." She jumped as she was released from her thoughts, Thomas now looking over at her.

"Thanks," He soon walked over to her, only feet away when he lifted up his hand. She instantly flinched, swallowing hard as she realized what she did.

Thomas slowly put his hand down, looking at her with wide eyes. "I wasn't going to-"

"I know," Her voice was shaky, but she held a hard expression, looking at the floor.

Nodding, Thomas cleared his throat before heading to the bathroom, moments later coming out with a tube of ointment. "Let's get you cleaned up?"

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just Y/N's luck. Whatever it may be, she would never stop thanking whoever was watching over her that she got to feel Thomas's soft touch once again.

Yes, maybe she'd like it better if it was under different circumstances, but she was appreciative of the light touch he had against her head, one hand holding it still while the other gently dabbed the cream against her bruises.

The quiet was disturbed when he winced at the scrape right above her hip. There was no hiding it; it was already layered in dried blood, purple outlining the crevice of the soon-to-be scar. Thomas shook his head slightly, and she didn't know if it was from shock or disappointment.

Once he cleared the wound completely, Thomas pressed his thumb against her hip bone, rubbing her skin in soothing motions. Y/N smiled sadly.

"Can you stop, for one goddamn second, and just talk about this?"

"I can't, Thomas! You don't understand why, but I just can't-"

"Do you know why I stick around? Do you care about what I have to say? Don't you know that I love you? I would do anything for you, Y/N, why can't you trust me on that?"

"I do! I trust you with my life, Thomas! That's the problem!" The room grew silent, Thomas forming a sudden frown, eyes teary.

Her own were wet, as well. Vulnerability was not her thing, so Y/N quickly turned around, not bearing to see his reaction.

Lost in her own self deprecating thoughts, she felt a hand on her hip. His long fingers began stroking her bone, her skin lighting on fire every under the fabric of her underwear. Somehow, the simple touch completely broke her, letting out a shaky sob. Thomas wrapped his free arm around her chest, grounding her. Y/N allowed her own arms to grab at his as she shook.

“We’ll get through it,” Thomas whispered, his own voice a bit shaky. “Together.”

There used to be moments where Y/N would allow herself to completely fall into him, would just let go of all the pent up frustration and troubles she had. Because she knew Thomas would catch her, she knew that he would let her release all of her worries for him to fix, and if not fix, just to listen. He would offer comforting phrases that would make her feel like the only woman in the world. He would physically comfort her, whether it was a bath or his touch or his body, he would take away her stress.

And no matter how many times Y/N would experience such ache, Thomas never turned away. Not once. Not even after all this time separated. And she knew damn well that if she did the same thing now, he would let her.

That’s what scared her.

She couldn’t do that to Thomas, not again.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Apparently, him knowing exactly what she’s thinking didn’t change either. His soft voice rang loudly in her ears, traveling all throughout her body. Y/N had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from breaking down.

“You can let go...” It sounded like a promise.

Maybe she could count on him to catch her again, even if it’s just this one last time.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!!

@notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @tinywhim @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @daveeddiggsit @ohsoverykeri-blog @astralaffairs @i-know-i-can

#thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson x oc #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #my writings #thomas jefferson #wow anyways #didn’t mean to make it so sad?

[spideyswifey]

Power Couple: FootballStar!Thomas X Cheerleader!Reader Chapter 1: Practice and Parties

Okay so... this is my first x reader fic and I’m nervous on how this turns out 😬 I just had this idea of Thomas as a high school football star and the reader the cheer captain and they’re just a power couple! Also this was suppose to be like a little imagine, but ya girl ended up writing so much that this is now definitely going to be a series. Anyway without further ado I give you; Power Couple Chapter 1!!!

P.S I was inspired by @daveeddiggsit Wideout series for this. Y’all should go check her out if you haven’t already because her writing is AMAZING! And because of her I have become a simp for a football star thom! 🥺

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: FootballStarThom! X CheerCaptain!Reader

Warnings: None for now, as far as I know, but if you see some let me know!

Summary: For Y/N, being the freshman cheer captain definitely had its perks, a cute uniform, a badass squad that’s always got your back, and getting the attention of a certain freshman football team captain. And one day, Thomas Jefferson decides to approach her after practice.

“5, 6, 7, and 8! Whoo! Good job everyone!” Y/N exclaimed to her team as they just finished the last steps of their routine. Their coach nodded in approval, “Yes, now go ahead and rest up for the weekend! I’ll see you all on Monday!” A chorus of “Okays” and “See you coach!” could be heard by the rest of the team.

Y/n had knelt down on the track putting her stuff away in her gym bag, along with a few of her teammates/ friends. Her friends were excitedly chatting about the first football game of the season next Friday. She shared a smile, excited for their first time to cheer in front of a crowd at the freshman game.

“I just hope we get a pretty good turnout,” one of her best friends, Peggy piped up beside her, “Not a lot of people really come to the freshman games.” “Well they will this year once they see the amazing freshman cheer team led by the best captain ever!” Her other best friend, Lafayette, had proclaimed while he nudged her, giving her a cheeky grin. Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at her foreign friend, “C’mon Laf, you give me way to much credit!”

“Nah, he’s right Y/n! You’ve worked your ass off for the captains spot and you’ve earned it, you’ve gotta give yourself some credit at least!” Peggy declared, disagreeing with her friends previous statement. “Ok ok I’ll admit,” Y/n sighed contentedly “It is pretty rewarding to be where I am after practicing till my legs felt like they would fall off!” They all laughed together at her comment, finally standing up to leave the track.

“Speaking of rewards,” Peggy spoke up, a smirk suddenly appearing on her face, “It looks like a certain someone has also noticed your hard work.” Y/n followed Peggys stare, leading her to none other than the freshman football team captain, Thomas Jefferson; who had been caught, not so subtly staring at the three.

Thomas quickly looked away, hurriedly putting the rest of his stuff away, as he had just finished practice himself. He couldn’t help but look at her tho, she exuded confidence in a way that made him attracted to her. The way she smiled while performing a cheer, the way her ponytail bounced while she moved in step, everything about her was captivating to him and he knew right away that he had to at least talk to her, and then hopefully date her. Thomas then zipped up his bag, said a brief goodbye to his teammates, and decided to head over to Y/n’s group.

“No way!” Y/n scoffed, “We were probably just laughing too loud and annoyed him.” It was her friends’ turn to scoff, “Y/n,” Peggy started, “You’re hot girl! Why wouldn’t he be looking at you?” “I agree mom amie, you are a ray of sunshine who’s beauty over flows! Any guy would be foolish not to be attracted to you!” Lafayette concurred with Peggy.

Y/n began to blush at her friends praise, trying to hide the smile growing on her face. “Thanks guys.” Just as they were about to reach the exit, a figure jogging toward them caught Peggys eye. “Oh and look! Thomas Jefferson sure ain’t a fool since he’s coming right over here!” She tried to contain her squeal of excitement. Y/n’s head shot in the direction of Peggys excited gaze. Suddenly she could feel her heartbeat speed up and her hands begin to sweat. Thomas Jefferson was approaching her!

“And I think that’s our cue to go Peggy, Good luck mon amie!” Laf shot her a wink as he and Peggy hurry to leave so they can give Y/n some time alone with Thomas. “I want details later!” Peggy harshly whispered, seeing as Thomas was now in earshot, and quickly left giggling with Lafayette about their best friend.

Thomas stopped right in front of her, quickly doing a once over of her practice outfit. “Uh, hi! It’s Y/n right?” Her eyes widened at the way her name left his lips. “Oh, Yeah hi! Thomas?” She mentally facepalmed, you already know his name idiot!

“Yeah” Thomas gave her a small smile, “Uh, I hope I don’t come off as creepy but, I couldn’t help but notice you practicing.” “Oh?” She questioned, a smirk now appearing on her face, now that he had admitted to watching her, a certain confidence started to ease her nerves. “Uh, yeah. Your moves are pretty good!” Thomas sheepishly complimented her while mentally scolding himself. Dude what is wrong with you? You’re never this nervous!

“Oh, thanks!” She grinned happily, “You’ve got some pretty good moves yourself captain!” She winked. “Oh really?” Thomas asked, “You’ve been watching my moves?” It was now his turn to smirk. Y/n looked down timidly, biting her lip quickly before responding. “Well, I’ve gotta keep tabs on who’s gonna possibly lead us to victory on our first game next Friday, you gonna prove me right?” She challenged. “Oh absolutely!” Thomas beamed. “And when I’m doing so, I hope the cheer squad is able to pump us all up!” He winked. “Oh trust me! We’re more than ready!” Y/n exclaimed. They both shared a laugh, the nerves leaving both of them as they bantered and started walking towards the front of the school together.

“So, listen,” Thomas started, “I’m not sure if you heard, but there’s gonna be a party at my house after the game on Friday, regardless if we win or not, and um I’d like it if you could come.” He looked at her with hope in his eyes. She was just so infatuating and he couldn’t get enough. “Oh, um ok!” She replied bashfully, that blush coming back to her cheeks. “Um my squad can come too right?” “No yeah of course, um everyone’s invited, especially the cheer captain.” He smirked.

Y/n was about to respond when a honk caught her off guard. They both looked in the direction of the sound and saw her older brother Zack, waiting for her in the drivers side. “That’s my ride,” she sighed, not wanting their conversation to end. Thomas nodded defeatedly. “I’ll see you around then?” He asked, hoping this wasn’t the last time they’d get to interact. Y/n smiled, “Definitely!” And with one last burst of conifidence, she took her phone out of her gym bag and placed it in Thomas’s hand. He glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“How else am I gonna get directions to the captains party, hm?” She answered his puzzled gaze with a small giggle. Thomas chuckled and put his number in her phone, then gave her his so she could do the same. They exchanged gleeful glances as y/n started to walk towards her brothers car. Just before she opened the door, she turned to give Thomas one last line, “See you around, Captain!” Thomas chuckled shaking his head, his curls bouncing. “You too, Captain!”

With that Y/n entered the vehicle , hardly containing her smile. “So, who was that?” Her brother eyed her as she sat in the front seat with a goofy grin on her face. “No one.” She replied while trying to hide the smile growing on her face. “Mhm, ok” her brother quipped, deciding to ignore it for now and interrogate her later. Y/n paid no mind to her brother, looking out the window as he drove off towards their house. The alert of a text from her phone brought her out of her daze as she checked to see who it was.

From: Football Captain Thomas 🏈🔥😉

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that it was nice talking to you. 😅 Here’s the address for the party! Hope to see you there, cheer captain 😉

Y/n bit her lip while typing a reply.

Thomas watched as the car took off, the smile never leaving his face. He quickly pulled out his phone to text the girl that has him charmed, while walking towards his moms car as she just pulled up. His mom made small conversation as he sat himself in the front seat. He then felt his phone vibrate.

From: Cheer Captain Y/n 📣😍🔥

It was nice talking to you too! Bring us a victory and we’ll see 😜 Don’t let me down football captain 😉

Thomas beamed as he read the message. If there was any more motivation he needed to win this game, he knew this was it. He was gonna do it so the beautiful captain of the freshman cheer squad would go to his party. And Y/n herself knew either way she would go, if it meant more time with the freshman football captain, she would definitely go to this party.

Looks like being the captain of the team definitely has its perks.

I hope you all liked it! I didn’t even think it would be this long and yet, here we are! 😅 Also what do y’all think about male cheerleader Laf?!? I just had the idea and it wouldn’t go away and honestly I love it!!! Also if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters just let me know and I’d be more than happy to do so! 😘 Anyway let me know what y’all think! 🥺♥️

-With Love,

Spidey’s Wifey 🕷♥️🖤

#daveed diggs #james madison #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson fic #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader #daveed imagine #aaron burr #peggy schuyler #lafayatte #power couple

[whatdidimissjm]

Talk Less

Alex is sitting alone at the bar, a glass of orange juice in his hand. Their entire department had decided to go to a bar and because it´s already quite late, everyone is in different degrees of drunkenness. He is watching Burr trying to flirt with a girl and can´t help but chuckle. He really hopes he will get her number.

“Seems like we are the only sober ones here, huh?”, a voice behind him says, and he turns around, looking up at Jefferson.

He hadn´t really seen the other man the whole evening, so he wasn´t prepared how amazing he looks in casual clothing. The striped pullover hugs his chest in all the right places and Alex had never thought someone could look so hot in jeans; it simply takes his breath away for a moment.

“Yeah…”, he gives back, his voice sounding off.

Jefferson laughs quietly and sits down beside him.

“Why are you not drinking?”, Jefferson asks, nodding at his glass of orange juice.

Alexander shrugs.

“Don´t like what it does to my mind. You?”

At that Jefferson shakes his head amused.

“That´s such a Hamilton answer.”

He huffs irritated.

“What´s that supposed to mean?”

But Jefferson just shakes his head, smiling slightly. They talk for a few minutes, their usual heated fighting turning to easy banter. Alex isn´t sure he´s liking it, because it makes not wanting to kiss the other man so much harder.

“I´m starving.”, Thomas says, after Alex has finished his drink. “Let´s head out and grab something to eat?”

For a second Alex just stares at him, before he nods. Thomas grins and gets up, Alex following suit. They head outside and Alex takes a deep breath, relishing the fresh air. It´s almost too cold for the pullover Alex is wearing, even though it doesn´t seem to affect Thomas at all.

“Do you know a 24/7 place around here?”, Thomas asks, and Alex nods.

“Yeah, there´s one just around the corner, actually.”, he smirks, bumping his shoulder into Thomas´. “But it´s probably not fancy enough for a snob like you.”

“Watch your mouth.”, Thomas warns laughing.

True to Alexander´s words, they arrive at the diner not even ten minutes later. They get into a booth and instantly start fighting for the one menu. Thomas wins, holding it triumphally above his head.

“Fucking asshole.”, Alex mutters, bit his mean words gets contradicted by the smile on his face.

“I´m simply better than you.”

Alex rolls his eyes dramatically, and gets up, slipping into the booth next to Thomas. Their shoulders bump together, and Alex grins up at him. There is something in Thomas´ expression that he can´t quite place, but before he can completely grasp it, he looks away at the menu in front of him.

“What do you think about sharing fries?”, Thomas asks, after having studied the card for some time.

Alex nods.

“Sure. What´re you getting?”

“A burger and either the strawberry milkshake or the Oreo one, I can´t decide.”

“Take the Oreo one! I´ll get the strawberry one and we can switch.”, he proposes, far too excited about his idea.

“How romantic.”, Thomas comments, nudging him with his elbow.

Alexander´s face flushes a bright red, and he is glad that the waitress decides to take their order in this moment.

“Good evening! What can I get you?”, she asks with a bright smile.

Before Alex can answer, though, Thomas starts speaking: “We´ll take the fries, a strawberry and one Oreo milkshake, with two straws each, please. And I´ll get the House Burger. Alexander, what else do you want?”

Alex feels his face burning even more, as he gives the waitress his order, and he doesn´t even know why.

“Are you alright?”, Thomas asks, after she has left.

He turns around to Alex, resting his arm behind his back.

“Yeah?”, Alex answers, but it comes out as more of a question.

Thomas laughs.

“Am I making you flustered, my dear Alexander?”, Thomas asks, his voice low and seductive, and wow if that isn´t doing stuff to him.

“Fuck off, asshole.”, he mutters, but Thomas just laughs more.

Before Alex can embarrass himself anymore, the waitress luckily brings them their order. He reaches for the strawberry milkshake, but Thomas snatches it away, taking a long sip from it.

“Hey!”, Alex says indignantly.

“You said we´re sharing.”, Thomas defends himself, but Alex can see the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And you made fun of me for it!”, Alex protests.

Thomas rolls his eyes.

“No, I said that it´s romantic.”

Alex takes his burger and bites into it, so that he doesn´t have to reply to this. He can feel Thomas watching him from the side and does his best not to blush at the other man´s attention. He fails, obviously. The conversation flows easily, and Alex enjoys every minute of it. He knows that he shouldn´t get his hopes up, but there are moments, when he thinks Thomas might be flirting with him. After they are done with their burgers and fries, Thomas proposes to get something sweet as a dessert.

“I will literally die if I eat another bite.”

Thomas laughs.

“Don´t be so dramatic.”, Thomas says smiling, and then to the waitress: “We´ll take a piece of chocolate cake.”

“I knew you wanted me dead!”

Thomas just laughs again and Alex can´t help but think that it´s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. When he thinks about it, he had never heard Thomas laugh so freely and often as at that evening. The waitress is back a moment later with their cake, and Thomas takes the fork and cuts a piece off. He takes a bite from the cake and closes his eyes in bliss. Alex watches him with a smile.

“This tastes amazing.”, Thomas says, loading another piece onto the fork.

He turns around to Alex and moves it into the direction of his mouth.

“Open up!”, he says grinning, and Alex flushes a bright red again, but does as he´s told.

Thomas hadn´t lied, the cake did taste amazing, but Alex was far too distracted by Thomas who keeps feeding him piece after piece of cake. His heart feels like it´s about to jump out of his chest, while Thomas seems to think this is completely normal behaviour for two work rivals.

Alex honestly isn´t even surprised when Thomas pays for their meal without even acknowledging his protests. He feels flattered even though he´d never admit it. Alex follows Thomas outside and stops him, his heart beating fast and loud in his chest.

“Okay, fuck me if I´m wrong, but this was like, a date, right?”, Alex says, and Thomas stares at him with a mix of fondness and amusement.

He takes a step closer to Alex, resting his hands on his hips.

“You are not wrong, but I would still very much like to fuck you.”, he answers, and Alex can feel his knees getting weak.

He lets out something between a moan and a whine and pulls Thomas´ head down, kissing him deeply. Thomas slings his arms around Alexander´s smaller frame, pulling him closer against his body. Alex lets out another undignified noise, and Thomas reluctantly breaks the kiss, resting their foreheads together. Alex can feel Thomas´ hot and rapid breath on his face and shudders.

“I´m flat´s only like a block away.”, he pants, and Alex nods enthusiastically.

“Yes.”, he practically moans, grabbing Thomas´ hand and pulling. “I don´t want Washington to have to bail us out of prison for indecent exposure.”

Thomas keeps standing, even as Alex tries to pull him with him.

“First: please don´t mention Washington while I´m about to have a boner. Second: you´re going in the wrong direction, darling.”

Alex feels his face growing hot again, but at the same time shudders at the pet name. He obediently follows Thomas down the street, still clutching his hand tightly. From time to time he pulls him down for a kiss, still in awe that he can do that. When they finally reach Thomas´ flat and step into the elevator, Thomas presses him against the wall almost immediately, giving him a rough kiss. They almost don´t hear the elevator doors opening again, and blindly stumble out into the corridor. While Thomas struggles with the keys, Alex keeps kissing his neck.

“Stop that, it´s damn distracting!”, Thomas curses, but the small moan that slips out contradicts his words.

He finally manages to open the door and drags Alex into the bedroom, pulling his sweater and t-shirt off on their way there. In the bedroom he turns around to Alex and cups his face with his hands, kissing him so slow and sweet that his head starts to spin.

“You´re gonna be the death of me.”, Thomas mumbles.

Alex just whimpers, and Thomas deepens the kiss. They keep kissing like that for some time their hands roaming each other’s bodies. They are reluctant to break their kissing, but the need for air forces them to. During one of their breaks, Alex pulls Thomas´ sweater over his head, moaning at the sight in front of him.

“God Thomas!“, Alexander pants, before pressing another open-mouthed kiss to the other man´s mouth.

He groans when their hips grind together, burying his face in Thomas´ shoulder for a moment. He starts leaving wet kisses along his jaw, before seeking out Thomas´ mouth again.

“You have no idea how long I´ve wanted to do this.”, Alex whispers into Thomas´ ear, before biting down on it, which causes Thomas to let out a surprised squeak.

“Knew you´d be the vocal type in the bedroom.”, Thomas says fondly.

He guides Alexander´s lips back to his mouth, swallowing his moan, as he slips one hand into his trousers.

“God, I never thought this would actually happen.”, Alex pants again.

Thomas chuckles softly.

“Why don´t you use that pretty mouth of yours for something better?”, Thomas suggests, taking a step backwards.

At that Alexander stiffens, his dazed smile turning forced. His heart skips a beat and he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. It feels like a slap in the face, but still, he lets himself fall to his knees. He is about to undo Thomas´ trousers, but before he can do that, a hand in his hair stops him. He looks up hesitantly, fearing what he might find in Thomas´ face. He expects anger but instead there is concern written all over it. Before Alexander can react, Thomas is kneeling in front of him, his hand reaching up to cup his face.

“What´s the matter?”, Thomas asks softly.

Alexander drops his gaze again, but Thomas´ fingers curl beneath his chin and gently tilt his head back.

“Hey, talk to me, whatever this is, we can work it out. Did I do something wrong?”

Alexander swallows audibly and takes a deep breath, finally meeting Thomas´ eyes.

“It´s okay if I talk?”, he asks quietly, and he can see the confusion written all over Thomas´ face.

“What? Of course, why-“, he stops, as a sudden thought strikes him. “Wait, is this about me telling you that you should use your mouth for something better?”

When Alexander nods hesitantly, Thomas sighs.

“Sweetheart, that´s not what I meant at all. I love hearing you talk. I would never tell you to stop talking. Why would you think that?”

Alexander takes a few deep breaths, his hand searching for the other man´s. He still hesitates a moment, making sure that Thomas means what he said, before he clears his throat and starts speaking.

“My last… relationship was with a man who always said that I talk too much. He… he always said that I should rather be seen than heard, and when you said that, it just reminded me a lot of him, and I thought… I thought you wanted that too.”

Thomas feels his heart shatter at that.

“Of course not. Alexander, sweetheart, I promise you, I would never ask this of you.”

Thomas helps the younger man to his feet and guides him to his bed. They get in, and Thomas drapes the blanket over them. He pulls Alexander against his chest and presses a kiss to his hair.

“I´m sorry that I destroyed this.”, Alexander whispers after some time, and Thomas feels his heart break a little bit more.

“You didn´t destroy anything. I get to hold you in my arms and that´s enough.”

He can feel Alexander relax slightly.

“You really mean that?”

Thomas shuffles a bit away from him and lifts Alexander´s head with a finger under his chin. Then he leans forward and kisses him, slow and sweet and full of reassurance.

“I do. I could never lie to you. Not about this. Not about us.”

#jamilton #thomas jefferson #alexander hamilton #hamilton fic #hamilton #hamilton musical #my writing #my fics #mine

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 04 | thomas jefferson

 title: freedom of the press

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

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

words: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't change the subject!"

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

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

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

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

Angelica didn't look convinced.

________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded. "I'm forever grateful."

"Grateful enough to go easy on Thomas?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thomas and I look forward to it."

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

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

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

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This seat taken?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N!"

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

"Hey, Dolley, what's up?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Some other time, Secretary Jefferson."

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

________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raised his eyebrows. "With murder?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lafayette grinned. "Of course not."

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

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

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

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

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

"Oui? When else?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah." She smiled stiffly.

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

There was a skip, before Lafayette broke the silence.

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

We will talk about this.

___________________

Twitter

@gilafayette started following you.

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

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

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

@BenArnold started following you.

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

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

@JamesMdson retweeted your recent tweet.

New message from @A_Hamilton:

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

@A_Hamilton: i could even write u the questions

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

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

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

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

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

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

@Y/N_L/N: alex.

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

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

@A_Hamilton: YES THATS THE PROBLEM

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

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

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

@A_Hamilton: ur the only reporter that matters ily

✅ Read, 5:27 PM.

@gilafayette wants to send you a message. Accept?

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

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

@gilafayette: i am concerned about him since then

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

Messages to @gilafayette:

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

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

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

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

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

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

@gilafayette: brb

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

Messages to @gilafayette:

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

@gilafayette: but i worry

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

@gilafayette: no

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

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

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

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

@gilafayette: yes you told me to ask

@gilafayette: exactly

@gilafayette: what is the difference?

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

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

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

@gilafayette: wait he has just responded

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

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

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

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

@Y/N_L/N: lafayette i stg

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

✅ Read, 5:49 PM.

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

@Thomas_Jefferson wants to send you a message. Accept?

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

Messages to @Thomas_Jefferson:

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

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

✅ Read, 5:56 PM.

________________

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

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

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

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

Boy, was she wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just tryin' to escape."

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

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

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

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

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

"Now you're just baitin' me."

"Never!"

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

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

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

"Whatcha reading?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I just--"

"I wanted to--"

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

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

"The floor is yours."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait, be reasonable--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if she'd decided to stay?

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

#thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson scenario #thomas jefferson scenarios #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson imagines #hamilton #daveed diggs #hamilton fanfic #hamilton x reader #philip hamilton x reader #alexander hamilton #hamilton fic #alexander hamilton x reader #hamilton x reader smut #hamilton x reader fic #hamilton x reader one shot #hamilton x reader requests #hamilton scenarios #hamilton imagines #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs fanfic #daveed diggs scenarios #daveed diggs imagines #lafayette #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette fic #lafayette fanfiction #lafayette x reader

[1fightingfrenchman]

Thomas Jefferson concept

The way his relationships work because he's oBvIoUsLy a sweetheart.

Gifts. Most important thing. He likes to spoil and be spoiled, gifts are an absolute must. Even if it's not much. Kazoos, rings, macaroni, a rolex, whatever catches his eye is what he gets his lover. Insists on buying the best of the best, likes to 'surprise' them even though they know it's coming. He giggles like a dork when they open it, is about the same with receiving. Fancy lil bows and paper, he wants it to be perfect. Once he spent twenty minutes trying to get the crease right while wrapping a can of philsbury doughboy cookie dough, then proceeded to leave it too close to a hot air vent where it exploded. Pissed him off. But he's also a suck for experiences. Spas and shit, insists on remaining well kempt and fabulous. Likes fancy trips.

Pets. Once went to Florida and returned with an alligator. Why? Who knows, certainly not him. He dumped it on Lafayette after a week. Insists it's the experience of a pet that makes happiness, is still battling over temptation of buying a dog he wants to name 'slut' and a ram. Thinks an animal lover is the sexiest thing you can be. Was gonna be a vet until he did bio and had to dissect a frog, at which point he passed out. His lover always has to deal with chasing rabbits in the park, stalking deer, trying to stick his hands in gopher holes. He wants a pet so damn bad but doesn't want to buy one. Insists natural ones without preservatives are better. What the fuck?

Dates. Finest dates you'll ever see. Likes to go somewhere nice so it's always either a fancy French restaurant or a scenic location. Likes walks along the beach to clear his mind, skipping stones with little success, soft picnics that he prepared for two weeks with fairy lights and shit. Once went to a butterfly terrarium thinking it'd be cute but one landed on his nose and he cried. Always tries to get out there, doing stupid shit like skydiving and cliff diving. Uses dates more to figure out whatever the fuck goes on his head than anything else tbh, he just deems anything fun a date and anything he hated an outing.

There's the friends opinions about this all though. They question his life decisions... often. very often. Especially with the spending habits this 'romance' has brought on. But he insists he's happy.

"Found the love of my life years ago. Only person who could ever make me happy. Only person who treats me like I deserve and I can depend on them for anything. Not to mention they're a sexy fucking beast, oh god. they positively light up my life and I'd be a fool not to treat them with the utmost respect. Treat them to everything they deserve and so much more. Hell, I kinda wanna marry them but that seems a bit dramatic. We're happy enough as is right now, no reason to change anything. Isn't that right beautiful?"

*Proceeds to make out with mirror for solid twenty seconds*

#self love is the best love #jefferson #thomas jeffershit #narcissistic lil fuck but thats okay #seaburysfreethoughts #Character concept #Hamilton finds it funny #calls him a fucking lonely ass loser #Laff is just- concerned #James wants to talk to him but thomas is in too deep here #some days the squad wonders if its just an elaborate prank #or if thomas genuinely is dating himself #once made Laff take his hair down and switch up his accent just to see #best birthday gift ever #but laff never quite recovered #He wasnt paid enough to participate #rip mate

[ceoofbeep]

Things iman has said that have pushed me to sewerslide: a never ending post

‘love the sinner hate the sin’ ‘we’re not christian’ ‘???’ ‘ITS FROM THE BIBLE?’ ‘I THOUGHT IT WAS FROM HAMILTON??.’

‘did slaves have paracetamol’ ‘i mean painkillers in general’ "I mean clearly they did because you have them"

‘...because i ship waluigi and me’

'The Queen kind of a milf tho' AFTER HER DEATH: "she would be a gilf if anything"

is a simp for Frank from subway surfers

'i have a crush on danger mouse' 'what'

'can i whip him' (about mahamed)

'ass to the highest bidder' 'its lucky danger mouse is rich'

'george is my little snookums'

*acting like sherlock* 'so everyone whoss suspected yedam is dead!' 'they voted him out...'

ponkimon

compares luigis mustache to hitlers

"mario is packing" “he is packing”

"im earth chan"

about morphing PRINCE PHILLIP AND LEVI ACKERMAN “he would be kinda fine tho

calls a colonel sanders cosplay hot

“i only read wilbur fan fics for alyn, i mean thats how i came up with alyn” “so you read wilbur fics before”

“im hungry i need to eat marios peepee”

about the a/o/b muzzies “no wonder they want to kill us all”

about george gaslighting ‘i wouldnt mind’

‘i know ponk, he would never do this’

‘HE HEE’ possessed

to seunghun ‘i wanna be your slave’

‘nigeria is next to somalia right?’

‘i am submissive and breedable for:

-kim seunghun

-matthew baynton

-danger mouse

‘everyone who has a crush on matthew banyton gives me a headache’ ‘i want to give matthew baynton head’

turns everything into her and rae or her and byeol

step dad, youre wrong, oh sorry step parent

i kin thomas jefferson

*about my maths teacher running* im putting my ohone in my right hand

loyalists didnt yall lose the kings head… thats royalists

gets “can we pretend” and “written in the stars”ed

talking about how its an insult, “are you calling me old, are you calling me black?”

making it worse, “im not racist its the blacks,”

“im not racist i just hate black ppl

kidnapping goats is uneathical.. and kidnapping children isnt

giving diluc the gluck gluck 3000 I MEAN

written in the stars a million miles away baby i can see ur halo

in a way youre breeding art

i would let willne say the n word "in a way we've both been been discriminated against, we're black and he's got a square head"

tries to excuse dreams RACISM with “but ponk..”

gets a attachment to a random tory and says that its pc material

i want to see yoonbin in a commie hat and nothing else

“BE WHO YOU AREEE” thats a pride song…

‘hes talking about me’ about oergeuene

whos thomas pet, me, no ayato

‘matpat is a dilf’

about epraise points 'you have 43 primogems'

i would let hajime hit

"she's fine" about Theresa may

‘whats stalin’s last name’ /srs

Who Would Want To Have A Child With Haruto Watanabe

*gundham voice* boobs

im joining the karl marx hentai reddit

if a man isnt toothpaste

mistakes bojack horseman for BOJO

them things outside of garages "SCARECROWS?"

‘Hé has a perfectly good set of bollocks’

gs leaving is the biggest tragedy of 2022…

about Hunter ‘whys he kinda…’

About Haruto ‘whys he kinda…’

makes a self insert romeo and Juliet ff where they lips mercutio AND benvolio

i have love for byakuya when his shirt is off

(WHEN HIS TITS OUT!!!!!)

Says my history teacher “gives back shots in the ks cafe”

Throwing a tantrum because her teacher crush may be dating someone else

said Ben wil had a massive cock "he could still have it"

THINKS ENEMY OF STATE (hw worst of t12) IS ACCEPTSBLE AND LENG!!!!!!

he (bw) has a slutty waist

he (bw) has a ten inch

"I'm in pain, literally I have pins and needles, SCREAMS"

calls olivier giroud a slut 9/4 daily occurence

listened to dimentio's theme a hundred times

arsenal are siblings, Chelsea are like step siblings

you gagged me I fear

agreed with:

"what makes nct's Johnny so appealing" NOTHINGGGGGG

thought gift was spelt with a j and pronounced jift

'healthy ship dynamic' booooooring

Looked at him and said 'tits'

Just shouts "WOOF"

He (Jule) would call you blackbeard from one piece

#iman is the problem

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I'm gonna do it. I'll take all the history asks for 500, Alex!

OKAy. I may have to reblog and do an add-on, because I will almost certainly go over the 250 paragraph limit. ALSO NICE JEOPARDY REFERNCE. Okay, ready? Go.

1: Historical role model?

We could all stand to be more like Julie D'Aubigny.

2: Favorite underrated historical figure?

See above.

3: Funniest historical kerfuffle?

In 1774 Boston's Committee of Safety (John and Samuel Adams as well as Joseph Warren and PaulRevere were on it) was made up almost entirely of patriots, except for one man: Daniel Leonard. They couldn't decide anything important with him around so they would have a fake meeting and then be like OKAY IT'S AUGUST WE'RE HOT AND TIRED, LET'S GO HOME, and then after he'd left they'd lock themselves in a room and have their REAL, TREASONOUS MEETING. Reading about this is objectively one of the funniest things I have ever heard. It's literally the beack house episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine where they have a fake party for Captain Holt.

4: Favorite conspiracy theory revolving around history?

Whatever the fuck the real story of the X FIles was (I've watched the whole thing multiple times and I still don't know what exactly what the point was. DOn't get me wrong I love it. It just makes no sense.)

5: Favorite political scandal to examine?

The XYZ Affair because I was there for it all and it's...a lot

6: Opinion on the presidential assassinations and their impact on America?

I answered this in depth last time I got that question and you can read my response here.

7: Which time period would you like to live in?

Either take me back to the revolution or put me in Victorian England (BARRING MEDICAL NONSENSE AND SOCIAL BARRIERS)

6 (again?!): Favorite historical fiction book?

See the assassination link!

8: Favorite tv show based on historical events, but not really faithful to real life?

Top choices are Outlander, TURN: Washington's Spies, Black Sails, and Ripper Street.

9: Favorite musical based on history?

*sarcasm* Definitely NOT Hamilton whaaaaaaat why would you even assume that?! Ahem. Also Les Mis is cool I guess.

10: Favorite movie based on history?

Wonder Woman!!!

11: Favorite biography?

The Swamp Fox by John Oller

12: If you could prevent one tragedy, which would you choose?

The Trump Administration.

13: Fun fact?

MLK and Anne Frank were born in the same year.

14: Favorite female monarch?

Cleopatra or Mary Queen of Scots.

15: Favorite war leader?

I'm biased but George Washington.

16: Favorite controversial leader?

Winston Churchill

17: Favorite feminist pioneer?

J U L I E D ' A U B I G N Y. Also Mary Read and ANne Bonney my queer pirate gals

18: Which president, in your opinion, was the best speaker?

No contest, Abraham Lincoln.

19: If you would travel back in time and kill anyone, who would it be?

Listen I’m not a fan of these questions when people are like “I’d kill Hitler” etc. bc butterfly effect, BUT The British officer who shot John Laurens can CATCH THESE MF HANDS

20: Opinion on each of the founding fathers?

Oh boy. This is an interesting question at this point in time because I am currently grappling with the fact that the people I worked with did not really believe in equality for all, and the system we built was designed to reflect this. However, it is a system that I believed in and put my everything towards so I have many conflicted feelings toward it rn. Anyway here's the low-down on the major ones. GEORGE WASHINGTON: Good guy, needed to loosen up and not be a slaveholder. JOHN ADAMS: old stinky man. Called me mushroom excrement once. Put him back in the swamp from whence he came. THOMAS JEFFERSON: Rapist. Slaveholder. Really stuffy. Founded an entire political party for People Who Don't Like Hamilton. Fuck him foreverrrr. JAMES MADISON: Friendly with me but betrayed me when Jefferson came back from France. 2/10, cute but do not trust him with your secrets or coffee order. JAMES MONROE: A teenager during the war and I barely ever saw him after that but he was fine ig. ALEXANDER HAMILTON: that me! Made mistakes but all around a cool(tm) guy. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: fresh funky and really funny. Cooler than you'd expect an old man with gout to be.

21: Which leader do you think would make the best spouse?

No leaders are good spouses bc superiority complex.

22: Most pointless war in your opinion?

All. But King Phillip's War was especially whack.

23: John Wilkes Booth - crazy or crazy with a cause?

I mean of course he had a cause, but it was a bad one and having a cause doesn't make him less crazy. He was...really yikes.

24: Why do you think Lee Harvey Oswald killed JFK and did he act alone?

Most certainly did not act alone. But I feel based on timeline of events and maps of the area that either he was paid off either by our own government or the Soviets, or one of the two set him up as a patsy. Then Jack Ruby was paid to cover up the tracks.

25: Opinion on assassinations of leaders in general?

Same as killing anyone else, I guess, murder is bad, and I don't think that's really the route that should be taken to remove dangerous parties from power. But in some cases it may be the only way of removing them, and, well, that is what it is.

26: Do you think we're going to repeat history because we haven't learned from it?

Always. It is constantly happening. There is nothing new.

27: Have you ever been teased for being a history nerd?

hahahahahahahahaha yeah. Ever since first grade.

28: Which historical figure do you think has been subject to the most fictionalization and elevated to a godlike status nowadays?

Due to the musical, Alexander Hamilton (me.) People need to realize that I wasn't perfect but also not evil. Just human.

29: Rant about your favorite topic?

See the other part of my Lincoln Assassination rant here

30: Favorite kids/teens history books?

The Dear America series and the Liberty's Kids novelizations are WHERE ITS AT.

31: How was your interest in history started?

I don't even know exactly when or how anymore. My mom's a book nerd and an archaeology/anthropology major, so I grew up in a house chock full of books, including history books. I've loved it ever since I could read, honestly.

32: Do you know a history professor?

I do not!

33: How did your favorite history teacher structure their class?

I was homeschooled so it was my mom. She made sure we covered every period, but other than that just let me pick out what interested me and what I wanted to read and explore. She read a ton of big historical books right alongside me and we'd discuss as we read. We still do this!

AND THAT'S THE HALFWAY POINT OF THESE. I HAVE TO GET READY FOR AN OVERNIGHT SHIFT AT WORK SOON SO I WILL LEAVE THIS HERE FOR NOW AND REBLOG WITH THE REST OF THEM UPDATED TOMORROW. THANK YOU SO MUCH.

#a series of essays anonymously published #history asks

[daveeddiggsit]

If you do decide to do spooky drabbles, can write about moving in to your new home and realizing ghost!thom still lives there? He's not trying to get you to leave. He just hasn't had company in so long

omg i am absolutely in love with this idea! such potential for plot lol i had a lot of fun writing this. it ended up being way longer than anticipated.

You sigh, completely spent from your long day of unpacking. Moving into your new apartment has been exhausting to say the absolute least. Your back aches, your legs are extremely sore… and to be completely frank, all you want is to pass out on the mattress you’ve just finished setting up.

Unfortunately, someone… or something has different plans.

When you go to turn off your lamp table and head to sleep, an annoying tapping sound keeps repeating itself over and over again.  You’re not sure what it was until you look over to your window to see that it is open and the wind is blowing your curtains against your dresser.

Weird. You distinctly remember closing it 15 minutes ago… 

You must be more tired than you think. Sighing loudly, you turn your lamp back on and climb out of bed to close it, making sure to lock it tightly this time.

When you turn back around, you’re met with the sight of a man who seems to be around your age.

“I was doin’ ya a favor, darling, you should have left it open. 've heard it gets hot in here at night.” His voice is deep, yet soft at the same time, but his tone is nonchalant. He’s leaning back (or at least he seems to be) against a wall with his arms crossed in the corner of your bedroom, wearing a white sweater and a dark pair of pants.

His sudden presence absolutely terrifies you. 

“What are you doing here, you sicko? You think it’s cool to prey on girls and sneak into their room?!” You yell, trying to sound as strong as possible, but with a random, possibly crazy and dangerous intruder in your home, it’s difficult to keep your voice completely leveled. “Get out of my room! Get out of my home!”

It’s his turn to look surprised. With widened eyes and raised eyebrows, the man stares at you in shock. “Wait a minute, you can see me?”

While still terrified of the man in front of you, you let your anger and annoyance take the reins for a bit. “Yeah, dumbass. You’re not invisible, you know. You aren’t as stealthy as you think.”

He pushes himself off the wall so that he stands upright. “You can hear me, too?”

Ignoring him, your eyes search around the room for your phone. It’s on the bedside table right next to where he’s standing. Damn, calling the cops won’t be an option.

“Listen, I don’t have much here, okay? I just moved in, I’m running low on funds at the moment, I gave all my cash to the movers. Take what you want. Just… please don’t hurt me.” Your voice wavers slightly, but you remain strong as you search for a weapon nearby. Unfortunately, anything weapon-like is still in the many boxes that litter your room.

You stay frozen for a few more seconds before you jump into action, going on the offensive to drive whoever that man is out of your new home. Grabbing the closest thing to you, which is one of your new fluffy pillows that you just bought for the move in, you chuck it in the man’s direction… but it goes straight through him and hits the wall behind him.

Taking a small step forward, the man puts his hands up in a surrender position. “Hey, woah there, miss, calm down, alright? I’m not gonna hurt you. ‘M not robbin’ the place, I promise.”

You give him a puzzled, yet still frightened expression. “T-then what are you doing here? Who… what… are you? Why did the pillow…?”

He takes another step forward, this time with his hands up in a surrender position. He’s cautious with his next words. “I live here — well… I’m stuck here. It’s a long story. Just… don’t be afraid.” When you shrink back as he moves closer to you again, he continues to speak and try to calm you down. “It’ll be alright. Really, I just wanna talk, sweetheart. Relax.”

“Don’t call me ‘sweetheart,’ I don’t even know you.” You say cautiously, backing up until your back hits the wall behind you. A few feet separate you two from each other. “Also, excuse me if I seem a bit tense at the fact that there is a random man inside of my room telling me not to be afraid…”

It isn’t until now that you realize that he’s actually quite attractive. His curls frame his face perfectly and his facial hair seems to be perfectly groomed, cut at just the perfect length. His brown eyes, although dull and somewhat empty are kind as they look down at you.

You don’t let that faze you, though.

“I suppose I should introduce myself, then.” He says with a wide grin before he sends you a small wave. “My name is Thomas Jefferson, and I’m not a man. Well — I am… I mean, I was, but not anymore. I, um… I— my… body died in this place years ago and my soul is trapped here.”

Thomas stumbles over his words and it seems that it’s a struggle for him to speak on that topic. However, that doesn’t stop you from being surprised at his claim.

He continues after you’re silent for a few seconds. “It’s been years since I’ve talked to someone. Actually, I haven’t spoken with anyone since… it happened. I, uh… understand if you don’t wanna speak to me, but… it’s nice to have a conversation with someone again.”

His soul is trapped here? In your home? He’s a spirit?

You shake your head slowly. “...but you look so real. How does that work?”

Thomas shrugs. “‘M not sure. None of the other tenants could ever see or hear me. I’m pretty sure you’re just special.” A small grin pulls at his lips. “So, what’d’ya say, sweetheart? You believe in ghosts?”

“I…” You trail off, staring at him. While only a few feet away, you can see him more detailed than you could before. You notice that his skin color is slightly greyed and there is no life that illuminates his eyes, but that doesn’t make him any less attractive. “I’m really the only one who can see you?” You ask, your gaze drifting back up to his.

“I guess so,” he says softly. “Like I said, I think you’re special.”

“I guess I am.” You murmur, looking away to sort out your thoughts. It’s a lot to take in, but you’re not entirely spooked (not anymore, at least) at the fact that you’re conversing with a… ghost in your room in the middle of a Saturday night.

“So, your name is Thomas?”

He nods, happy to hear his name come off somebody else’s tongue after years of not being acknowledged. His smile is small as he lets out a soft, “yeah.”

“Well,” you sigh, looking back at him. “If I’m going to be seeing a lot of you, then I should probably introduce myself, too. My name is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

#ghost thom is just a sweet sassy ghost boi who craves attention and interaction #i'm already in love with him #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson drabble #tjeffs drabble #tjeffs x reader #hamilton drabble #hamilton fanfic #thomas jefferson fanfic #ghost au #ghost!thom #spooky drabbles

[deja-you]

times new roman | episode four

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.

trailer | previous | next

Groaning, Y/n slapped her phone onto the kitchen counter face down. She was in no mood to deal with Charles, Jefferson, or anyone else who felt the need to reply to her I-want-a-boyfriend Twitter ad. It was a joke. Mostly. Unless one of the Hollywood Chrises wanted to message her. Then it was real. But neither Hemsworth or Pine had found their way into her DMs, so it was just a joke. 

The handle on the apartment door jiggled and Y/n edged closer to the wooden block where the knives were kept (this was New York, you could never be too careful). She quietly released a sigh of relief when the door opened and it was just Peggy rushing in to their shared apartment. Peggy looked like she had ran all the way back: her curly hair was in a mess of a ponytail, her makeup looked a little sweaty, and she was slightly out of breath.

“Alright. Y/n, tell me everything.”

Y/n was a little taken aback by Peggy’s urgency. “Whoa, there. You haven’t even set down your purse yet. This addiction to gossip is getting a little out of hand.”

Peggy only rolled her eyes. “I didn’t run all this way to hear you lecture me, Y/n. Just tell me what’s going on with you and Daddy Jefferson.”

If Y/n had been drinking something at that moment, she would’ve had a spit-take. 

“What did you just say?!”

“You heard me.”

Y/n made a face. “Please never ever say that again.”

“I’m just teasin’. That is, unless you’re into that kind of thing. Jefferson is older, isn’t he?” Peggy pointed out.

“Margarita Schuyler, I swear--”

“But I guess you’ve always had a good relationship with your dad, and daddy kinks are usually reserved for girls with daddy issues, right?” She continued.

“I don’t think it works quite like that.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I’m getting off-topic, aren’t I? Anyway, tell me everything that’s happened between you and Jefferson.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Y/n shrugged.

“Not much to tell, other than the extremely flirtatious tweets you two have been exchanging?”

“I wouldn’t call it extremely flirtatious. Look, we’ve just been messaging back and forth since I tweeted about wanting a boyfriend -- which was a joke, by the way. I ran into him at dad’s office earlier, but nothing happened.”

“You ran into him today?” Peggy nearly squealed in excitement. “I wouldn’t call that nothing. So how did it happen? Did your eyes meet across a crowded room like in some cheesy Hallmark movie?”

“No. Charles was bothering me, so he let me hang out in his office until dad had finished up a meeting.”

“And?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “And what?”

“Well did anything happen?”

“Nothing happened.”

“So you’re telling me,” Peggy said, “that you exchange flirty tweets and then end up alone in an office with Mr. I’m-hotter-than-than-the-sun Jefferson, and nothing happened?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at Peggy’s dramatics. “Nothing happened, Pegs. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I am disappointed. But it’s okay. You’ll see Jefferson at the company gala again. The two of you will fall in love, get married, have the most adorable children, and I’ll get to be fun aunt Peggy!”

“Whoa, there. Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself? We barely know each other,” Y/n protested.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting this. You and Jefferson have chemistry. And besides, if I haven’t mentioned it before, he’s so very attractive.”

“You’ve mentioned it. In fact, you can’t stop mentioning it. Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Peggy waved her off and apparently ignored her last statement. “Whatever you want to keep telling yourself. Anyway, what do you want for dinner? I’m craving some Thai food.”

“Please remind me why I woke up early on my day-off to go get coffee with you?”

Peggy rolled her eyes and held open the door to her favorite coffee shop, it had been a couple days since Y/n’s run in with Jefferson. “Y/n, babe, every day is your day-off when you’re the heiress to George Washington’s fortune. You don’t even need to work a day in your life.”

“But I’m going to work because I want to. I didn’t go through four years of college just to live off my family fortune,” Y/n grumbled, but any prior grumpiness seemed to melt away when the smell of freshly poured coffee beans hit her nose.

“Oh right, forgot you actually want to make the world a better place or whatever,” Peggy rolled her eyes and proceeded to order two coffees at the counter.

“Is trying to make the world a better place a bad thing, now?”

Peggy glanced at Y/n and considered it for a second. “No, I suppose not. A little cliché and unoriginal, but I wouldn’t consider it a bad thing.”

“Whatever. Find us a seat, okay? I’ll grab our drinks when they’re ready.”

Y/n waited in the corner of the cafe between the wall and the counter, absentmindedly tapping her foot along to the beat of some catchy Jack Johnson song that Y/n was 90% sure was featured in a Curious George film. The drinks were ready before the song ended, and Y/n offered the barista a quiet ‘thank you’ as she took the cups over to where Peggy had found seats. 

The coffee was still hot and would’ve surely burned Y/n if she had spilled it on herself, which she nearly did when she saw who was sitting across from Peggy. 

Peggy sat with her ankles crossed and a grin on her face while she casually carried on a conversation with the one and only Thomas Jefferson. He wore a more casual outfit today, dark pants, a tucked white shirt (which of course, fit him perfectly), and a black coat that looked like it costed more than two months of Y/n’s rent -- and that was saying something, seeing as Y/n lived in New York City. 

Neither Jefferson nor Peggy had noticed her approach them, and for a second Y/n considered bolting out the cafe door and finding somewhere to hide. But Y/n Washington was an adult, running away from her problems wasn’t a solution. Right? 

“Oh, good. I was about to come find you,” Peggy said, acknowledging Y/n’s presence.

Y/n silently cursed her indecision and forced a polite smile onto her face. “Here’s your coffee, Pegs. I wasn’t aware we were meeting Mr. Jefferson here.”

Thomas had a smug smile on his face that gave Y/n a strange feeling in her gut (it wasn’t butterflies, Y/n refused to believe it was butterflies), and raised one of his eyebrows. “Aw, angel, you don’t sound too happy to see me.”

“It’s just that I didn’t realize you’d added ‘stalking your boss’s daughter’ to your list of hobbies,” Y/n shrugged, regaining her composure.

Thomas chuckled a little and shook his head. “What? I’m not allowed to stop in to my favorite coffee shop now?”

And as if to prove his point, Thomas sent a charming grin and a wave to the barista working at the counter. She grinned, a little too wide for Y/n’s liking, and happily waved back. Y/n rolled her eyes. 

“Relax, Y/n,” Peggy urged. “I invited Thomas to come sit with us. We were just talking about what a small world it is.”

“Too small for my liking.” Y/n eyed Thomas warily and finally took the vacant seat between Peggy and Thomas. She glanced at Peggy, processing what her friend had just said. “Since when do you call him Thomas?”

“Most people call me Thomas, angel. You’re the only one who insists on callin’ me Mr. Jefferson. Even after I gave you other options.” Thomas sent Y/n a playful wink. 

Peggy lifted her coffee to her lips to hide the smile she wore watching the scene unfold. Y/n opened her mouth to say something, then abruptly closed her mouth. She could feel her face heating up, and hopefully Thomas couldn’t tell how flustered he made her, but the wolfish grin on his face told her otherwise.

Thomas watched her for a moment, then let his gaze fall on Peggy. “Of course, I can leave now if y’all want. I don’t mind.”

Peggy was urgently shaking her head before Y/n could say anything. “No, no, stay! Y/n doesn’t mind.”

Y/n sent Peggy a look that very clearly read ‘yes, I do mind.’

“That’s swell,” Jefferson grinned.

“Who even uses the word ‘swell’ anymore?” Y/n crossed her arms. 

“Y/n! Don’t be--”

Peggy was interrupted when her phone began buzzing on the table. She apologized briefly to both Jefferson and Y/n before stepping outside to take the call. Now it was just Y/n and Jefferson sitting at a table together in a cafe.

“So,” Y/n started after a minute or two of silence. “Nice weather we’re having.” She cringed at how awkward she sounded, but Jefferson seemed to find her amusing. 

“Nice weather? Angel, have you even been outside today? It’s freezing.” 

She scowled. “I was just trying to make polite conversation, okay?”

“You’re not very good at that, are you?” He chuckled. “You sure you’re George Washington’s daughter? You weren’t adopted or anything?”

“No, he didn’t adopt me. I guess the charismatic genes weren’t passed on,” Y/n sighed. 

“Y/n, Thomas.” Peggy had returned from her phone call and started picking up her purse and jacket. “I’m so sorry, but a friend called. I have to go. But you two should stay as long as you like.” She sent a wink in Y/n’s direction that Thomas almost definitely saw.

And so Peggy left, leaving Y/n with her archenemy. Well, maybe archenemy was too strong. But still. Y/n sighed and took a long sip of her drink.

“You’re not leavin’?”

Y/n’s eyes met Thomas’s deep brown ones over the top of her cup. “Did you want me to leave?”

“No, no. ‘Course not. I just thought once Peggy left you wouldn’t stay long after,” Thomas explained.

She only shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do today.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my company, then.”

“Hey, I never said I was enjoying your company. Merely putting up with you.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s it,” she nodded. Thomas glanced down at his watch and Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Surprisingly, I have nothing scheduled today.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “And you said you’re not doing anything today?”

Y/n pursed her lips then nodded. “It’s my day off. Getting coffee with Peggy was my big plan for the day.”

“Then do you want to do something with me?”

The question struck her like a bolt of lightning. Y/n didn’t have any plans for the day, and she was looking for something fun to do... but this was Thomas Jefferson. The Thomas Jefferson who worked for her father and who was shamelessly arrogant. The Thomas Jefferson who she had mentally called her archenemy only moments ago. So she should’ve just said no. But then there was some part of her that did want to do something with him.

“Do I want to do something with you?” Y/n repeated, cocking her head to the side. “Like a date?”

His eyes widened and he slowly shook his head. “No. No, not like a date. Just two people doing the same thing at the same time. Not a date.”

“What activity were you thinking?” Y/n couldn’t believe she was considering this.

“Let’s go to Coney Island.”

“Coney Island?” She laughed but when he didn’t join her, her expression turned serious. “You’re not joking, are you? We can’t just go to Coney Island. You said it yourself, it’s cold out.”

“So bring a coat. C’mon, angel, I know you’re not the type, but it could be fun. Be spontaneous, just this once.” His smile was all too comfortable and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’m not the type?” Y/n tried not to show how offended she was, but failed miserably. Is that really what he thought of her? That she was some kind of boring prude? Oh, how wrong was he. “Y’know what? Okay. Let’s go.”

Thomas perked up. “Did I hear you right? You really want to go?”

“You’re that surprised? Let’s go before I change my mind, Jefferson. But it’s not a date.”

He smiled. “It’s not a date.”

A/N: let me know if I forgot to add you to the tags or if you want to be added

tags: @fangirling-central​ @dannighost​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @justahappylilblog​ @fanfic-addict-98​ @a-hopeless-fan​ @and-claudia​ @nicolemelton​ @youtxbemusic​ @reidcult​ @eirenism​ @fantasy-of-fiction​ @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86​ @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley​

#hamilton x reader #hamilton #hamilton imagine #lafayette x reader #hamilton fanfiction #lafayette imagine #daveed diggs #marquis de lafayette #daveed diggs x reader #thomas jefferson x reader #thomasjefferson #thomas jefferson #TNR