#Madame Vice President | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seeingivy · 9 months

Text

you belong with me

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama

an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS

You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater.

What do you hate today? Being class president.

You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back.

“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.”

“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.”

“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.”

“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”

“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.”

“Toji, I’m not even mad about-”

You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.

You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it.

“Come in, bunny.”

“Loud and clear, Toru.”

He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.”

“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.”

You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin.

“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.”

“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?”

“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.”

He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating.

Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all).

He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses.

But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by.

No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window.

To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you.

And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention.

I love you.

Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started.

Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place.

“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?”

“We’re not best friends.”

“Sure we are!”

You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you.

“Are you still fighting with that dog?”

“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.”

“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?”

“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.”

Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months.

“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.”

“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me, Kento?”

“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.”

You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.

“As if.”

Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him.

“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds.

Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.

“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.

“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you.

Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh.

You get it. He doesn’t want you there.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.

“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters,

“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you.

“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?”

“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks.

“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?”

You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head.

“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head.

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab.

“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.”

And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more.

“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.”

Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more.

He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-

“Need a ride?”

You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you.

“Thanks.”

He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot.

“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair.

You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession.

“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?”

He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.

“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.”

“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass.

“But why?”

And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all.

“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?”

“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.”

“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.”

“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.”

You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose.

He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter.

You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over.

“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin.

You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop.

Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope.

On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things.

Jamoca and Satoru.

When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place.

Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking.

“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?”

“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.”

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?”

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.”

You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees.

“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.”

Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him.

He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead.

“Ouch, asshole.”

“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.”

And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go.

He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways.

After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab.

And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently.

You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates.

“You’re Haibara, right?”

“You know who I am?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.”

“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you.

“Are too.”

You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh.

“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.”

You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why.

Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden.

Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue.

“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.”

“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.”

“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.”

You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.”

“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.”

“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.”

“Prove it.”

You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen.

And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh.

And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points.

“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.”

“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.”

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?”

“Every night, sweetheart.”

You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle.

After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking.

“You okay?”

“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.”

“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-”

He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace.

And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders.

Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes.

Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field.

“Take you home?”

“Thanks, Toru.”

“You want Jamoca?”

“Not today.”

He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates.

At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-”

“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.”

Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him.

“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.”

“I know. That’s true.”

“But?”

“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.”

Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish.

He can’t be selfish with you.

“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.

“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.”

“What are you going on ab-”

“Just do it.”

You sigh, before thinking hard about his question.

“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.”

After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face.

“Bunny?”

“Toru?”

“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?”

You slump back into your chair, sinking down.

“No.” you murmur.

“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-”

“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.”

“Get out of the car.”

You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store.

You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his.

“Hi bunny. You look nice.”

“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?”

To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you.

“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.”

“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.”

“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.”

You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you.

When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind.

The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say.

I love you.

And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance.

Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes.

Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish.

Be fucking selfish.

Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time.

He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion.

“Nanami.”

“Please, for the love of god, not tod-”

“Go hand this to Y/N.”

Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time.

Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko.

“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”

“You would be shocked, Y/N.”

“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.

She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over.

“Did you break into my house, Shoko?”

“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.”

They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.

And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming.

Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

"No."

You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt.

He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first.

“Come in, bunny?”

“Loud and clear, Toru.”

“I love you.”

You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand.

“I love you.”

“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”

You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips.

“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.”

He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

828 notes · View notes

sebstan2020 · 7 months

Text

Madam President

Your the president of the United States of America who has a dirty little secret and you've scheduled a private meeting with James Barnes

“Madam president, the contracts you asked for are here,” Amy said sweetly as she waltzed into the Oval Office, placing the neatly laid contracts down on the polished desk. You looked up from your desk, smiling softly as Amy stood there, her hands neatly folded behind her back.

“Thank you, and I told you, you don’t need to call me that” you assured and Amy blushed.

"I know but I feel weird saying your name, especially in front of people, I mean you are the president of the United States of America” she almost said with a giddy voice, as if you hadn’t heard it a million times already. A soft chuckle came from your throat and a shake of your head.

“Don’t remind me… thanks for those Amy, I’ll have you send them out when I’ve signed them all”.

“Also the meeting with the elementary school is in your schedule for May, I’ve organised security and updated the vice president to step in whilst you’re out” she said and you smiled at her. She was so organised, if you didn’t have her then you don’t know how you would survive as the president.

“I don’t know what I would do without Amy” You and Amy had been friends since grade school, the two of you both into politics and law. Being the president was all you ever dreamed about and here you were, sitting in the Oval Office, signing contracts on the polished wood of the desk, sitting across from previous world leaders and your vice presidents, chief of staff and secretary, standing on those podiums and making world wide announcements. It was everything you ever wanted. Amy was with you the whole way leading up to your inauguration, the crowning of your presidency. Standing in front of millions of people, placing your hand on that bible and reading those very famous words that gave you the respect of so many people was something only very few experienced in their lives.

Being voted for a second time was an even bigger shock to you. These people trusted you with their lives, to make things better for the richer, the poorer, the sick and the healthy. They trusted you to make this a better place for everyone and you vowed to do that till the very end. Five years into your presidency and being the first female president, a young one at that earned you the respect of every citizen in this country.

If there was one thing she wouldn’t back down on it was having Amy as your secretary. She was always one step ahead of you, keeping your schedule neat and tidy, updating you on changes, and ensuring your meetings were booked until the very last minute. Nothing ever went wrong with her just outside your office.

But being the president wasn’t just a ball in the park. Running a whole country didn’t look as easy as it probably sounded. There was no easy answer to anything. Sure you had come across a few setbacks, problems if you will, but you were determined to clean them up and keep this country trusting you till the very end.

“You want some coffee, you look like you’re falling asleep” she teased and you nodded, hanging your head in your hand.

“Yes please, if I stare at anything else I’m going to fall on this desk” you groaned and she giggled, turning in her stride to the door.

“I’ll be back in a mo, madam president” she teased and you glared at her with a smirk.

Although it was protocol and respectful to be addressed as such, you didn’t mind Amy bending the rules. It was almost tiring being called that daily. But the rest of the staff wouldn’t dare call you anything else.

Amy brought you some coffee. The steaming cup of goodness was just what you needed to boost yourself and you began looking over the new contracts that had just come in. The oval was quiet as you read quietly, sipping on the warm cup, the strong scent of coffee hitting your senses. It gave you a buzz and you felt energised. Your pen glided across the thick paper, your fancy signature filled with swirls and flicks appearing on the page, the famous president's signature now lying freshly on the paper. You let it dry for a moment, the black ink still wet and glossy and carefully placed it out of the way so it didn’t smudge. Only the best quality pens were given to you to use, not some cheap old ballpoint pen. It seemed kind of extra to have to order new ones when they ran out and replace the whole thing when it only needed a new ink cartridge but you didn’t think much about it.

A knock to your office alerted you and you called them in, eyes flickering back to the pages and Amy poked her head in.

“Mr Barnes has arrived, security is bringing him through” You lifted your head immediately, swallowing a lump in the back of your throat and nodded, clearing it before speaking.

“Thank you,” you said with an almost formal tone and quickly placed the contracts neatly on top, folding them into the folder and keeping the information sealed. You stood up, quickly smoothing out your black suit with your pale white shirt underneath, the collar undone and your curls reaching just below your shoulders. You stood quickly as the sound of footsteps grew louder, walking around the desk, heels scuffing the carpet and watching the door with wide eyes. The door opened and your security detail entered first, dressed in a tight suit, his earpiece clearly on show as he stepped out of the way.

“Madam president, Mr Barnes” he announced and a man stepped inside.

“Thank you Michael” You smiled formally and he nodded, shutting the door and leaving the two of you alone.

James Barnes, a friend of yours, one you had known since your days in Congress. He was tall, and handsome, with dark hair and bright blue eyes like oceans. His dark hair was slightly long, framing his face well and little strands drooping at the side of his face. He was dressed immaculately in a dark black suit, the buttons at the top undone and no tie this time. His cologne could be smelt from where you were standing and he wore a smirk on his pink plush lips. His cheekbones framed his face perfectly, his jawline snatched and as sharp as a knife.

“You’re on time” you commented and James chuckled, swirling around the many sofas in the office, and waltzing over to you.

“When am I not on time,” he said smoothly, his voice husky and when he reached you and pressed a kiss to your cheek in a gentle manner, greeting you.

“How are you?” He asked and you shrugged.

“The same as always, swamped with work, you know how it is,” you said and chuckled.

“I don’t envy you” he teased and you rolled your eyes, scoffing. James raised his head a little at that gesture and squinted slightly.

“Thanks, how’s business” you asked and he took a deep breath.

“Busy, we’ve just taken on some new clients, big ones” he smirked.

“That sounds promising” you commented.

��It is, I’m hoping we can come to a deal by the end of the week otherwise I don’t want business with them” he shrugged and you chuckled.

James was the CEO of an investment company, one of the highest in the whole of America. A real businessman he was. His whole image screamed CEO and he was a man who enjoyed business and enjoyed feeling higher than anyone else. He was a hard-working man and created his business from the ground to the success it is today.

“You don’t hang about do you” you murmured and he smirked.

“Shall we” he raised his brows and you nodded. You led him out of the oval, passing Amy’s desk to which he flashed a smile at her, making her blush a hang her head nervously. He was the definition of handsome.

“Mr Barnes and I are having a private meeting upstairs, so please make sure no one disturbs us” you informed her and she nodded, averting her eyes downwards. James walked beside you, his arm almost brushing against you as you led the way upstairs. The many staff members gave you a nod and passed you silently, seeing that you were occupied. Taking a look over your shoulder, you quickly bounced upstairs, James following behind closely and you reached the main bedroom. Opening it quickly, he slipped inside with you entering last and taking one last look out before slamming the door. The silence grew and the only sound of the lock clicking in place had your stomach twisting and turning with excitement. You turned, head held high as James stood in the middle of the bedroom.

He turned, a full-grown smirk on his lips as he looked you up and down.

You look nice” he murmured and you smiled softly.

“I think you’d look nicer without all that though,” he said and you grinned. Pushing yourself off the door, you slowly walked over to him, undoing the buttons of your suit jacket, peeling it off your arms and throwing it in the plush chair beside you. You slipped out of your heels, getting increasingly shorter than what you were before and kicked them over to the side of the room. The white shirt ruffled as you peeled it off, revealing a lace white bra underneath and the pop of the button on your trousers broke the silence.

You were left in only your panties and bra, your expensive pearls across your neck just hanging above your cleavage and the ones in your ears glinted under the warm lights of the bedroom. James hummed, reaching forward and hooking a finger under your necklace.

“Take those off” he whispered and you obeyed immediately, peeling off the necklace and placing it desiccating down on the table by the chair.

“And the rest” he nodded and you pinged your bra off, your tits hanging as the support was taken away, flying across the room. You dropped out of your panties, flicking them with your toes and a chill ran down your back. Immediately your hands went behind your back, holding the elbows and one another, pushing your chest out as you stared up at James who hummed in pleasure. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know, you rolled your eyes at me earlier” he said and you froze a little, sucking in a breath through parted lips.

“Did I?” You hadn’t realised but you weren’t denying. James nodded.

“Yeah… do you think that’s any way you should answer me” he teased softly and you shook your head.

“No” you answered and he took your chin in his hand, tightly gripping it with your thumb.

“No, what” he ordered firmly and a tingle ran through your body.

“No Sir” you answered softly after a few seconds of intimidating silence and he smirked.

“Good girl” he whispered, his thumb grazing your chin which made you let out a soft moan. His fingers were so dominating, taking control. Your body was warming up, knowing what was to come. Your stomach rolled with excitement and you rested the urge to jump ahead before his orders.

“Get on your knees” he ordered and turned, stroking over to your walk-in closet. The closet itself was about the size of a small bedroom with every suit in every single colour. But hidden in one of the closest with a small lock was your dirty little secret you kept from everyone in the world except James. Not even Amy knew about it. If they did they’d cast you off as president the second they knew.

Sinking slowly to your knees, placing your hands on your thighs like a good girl, you waited for James to come back. He padded out the closet, the black flogger dangling from his hand, the straps swaying back and forth, intimidating you as he got closer. The very sight of it made you trip with wetness, your pussy tingling at the thought of what was going to happen next and James stood close to you, his cologne filling the air and almost acting like a drug.

“You know what to do” he said quietly and without a word, you sunk to the floor. Pressing your cheek to the soft carpet, your ass pushing into the air on display, hands sprayed in front of you like you were a playful puppy ready to play.

James hummed softly and brought back the flogger, slamming it down on your body and the smack of the strands echoed in the bedroom. You weren’t worried about the sound, no one would be able to hear. The room was almost sound proof and unless you pressed your ear to the door nothing could be heard. Your secret was still safe. You smack sent a tingle further through your body and you gasped at the pain. Your skin turned a blotchy red shade at the first impact and upon the second tingled. His polished dress shoes were just in front of your face, something for you to focus on and another hit came.

“Tell me what you are?” He asked as he continued to flog you.

“I’m a dirty slut” you whispered.

"And who do you belong to?” He said, pulling back the flogger harshly to bring it down with impact. The smack was harder and louder this time and your skin was stinging.

“You Sir” you groaned, your fingers gripping the curls of the carpet.

“That’s right, you are my slut” he smiled.

“You moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure seeping through your body. Everything that was worrying you, everything that was sticking in the back of your mind was gone. You were where you needed to be, and where you wanted to be. The hard work of being the president had left your mind. All that power you had, the responsibility of making decisions was gone and you were submitting. Being humiliated like this made you forget about the harshness of the world and the responsibility to make this a better place for people. James was the only person who could take control of you, the president of the United States of America. If the people of America knew the president liked to be whipped and flogged and tied up and made to do humiliating acts to a CEO and forced to submit, they would have never voted for you.

“If people knew that their president was a dirty slut who liked to be humiliated like this they’d vote you out, it’s a good thing you have me then isn’t it?” He teased.

“Yes Sir” you groaned, wincing slightly at the impact of the flogger. Your back was turned completely red and even the touch of dark purple was starting to seep through with tiny bruises being left.

A few more smacks of the flogger had you flinching and hissing at the pain. Although it was what you wanted. You had been waiting for this all day, distracting yourself until James could come over, forcing yourself into the hard work that the president faced every day up until the few minutes before James arrived. You were right in your place. A final hard smack of the flogger had you wincing and you took a moment to gather your breath.

“Thank you Sir" you whispered and James grinned.

“Come and clean my shoes, they’re dirty” he ordered, slumping down in the comfy chair and you pushed yourself up from the floor, crawling closer to his feet and began to lick them. The slick leather glided over your tongue and tasted awful but you kept on going. You had to swallow here and there to gather your saliva. the act was humiliating enough and was making you drip between your legs.

“That’s it, get them all clean, I have a meeting later and I don't want to look like a slob” he ordered and you nodded, doing your best to clean them. They glistened with your saliva, the awful taste and polished leather lingering on your tongue. If the people of this country knew the president would lick a CEO’s shoes clean with her tongue, they would never have voted for her. You lifted his foot, running your tongue on the underneath, the taste awful and gritty but you carried on, peaking over his shoes and looking him in the eyes. His dark ocean eyes dazzled and were slightly narrowed with dominance, a smirk lingering on his lips and he was pleased with your efforts. He sat comfortably in the chair, arms lying on the armrests, taking over that power you have every day.

“Good girl” he praised and you blushed. The two little words he said to you made you giddy inside, knowing everything you were doing was pleasing him to the T. As you finished up the last shoe, he took the back of your neck, bringing you forward and slapped his hand across your face. The smack echoed in the room again and you gasped. He did it again, this time in the other direction, your head whipping to each side and your cheeks flushing with colour.

“You like this don't you, being slapped around and treated like a little slut” he teased and you nodded.

“Yes Sir” you breathed and he grinned, slapping his hand across you again. The tingles in your cheeks were stinging, like being jabbed with thousands of needles.

"I bet you’re just dripping down there aren't you” he teased and you nodded, tears almost coming to your eyes.

“Yeah… you want to come?” he groaned and you nodded, gasping for air.

“If you want to come you’re going to have to put the work in,” he ordered with a nod of his head and he stretched out his leg between yours, leaning back in the chair. You straddled his lower leg, bringing your aching pussy on his freshly cleaned shoe thanks to you and began to hump it, rubbing your sensitive folds on the tip of his foot. The pleasure took over your body and you had to keep going to not lose it. you whimpered with humiliation and tears, lips quivering and body shaking with pain and pleasure. Your legs were starting to ache from the position you were in, having to straddle to keep humping his foot.

"Look at you, such a dirty little slut” he almost spat and the words only added to your pleasure. You whimpered more as you rubbed your aching pussy over the leather, the tip of his shoe pressing into your clit and sending shocks throughout your body. And what was worse was that you were already going to cum. But not without his permission of course.

“Please Sir may I cum” you begged and he grinned.

“Ohhh, you want your cum” he teased in a whiney voice and you nodded with glassy eyes staring at him.

James smirked moving his foot up so it pressed deeper and you gasped, almost hissing at the pleasure.

“Go on” he ordered softly.

You humped his foot harder, gasping as even the slight rub made you want to cum.

“Please Sir" you begged and he hummed.

“Fine… you can cum” he shrugged and you fell into heaven, your cum dripping out onto his shoe, sliding over the leather, pulsing running through your pussy and body and you gasped in pleasure. Sweat dripped down your body, your hair stuck to your face and your cheeks flushed. The pleasure settled as you reached your orgasm and you slowed down, the tip of his shoe scraping against your tender pussy.

"Now clean that off” he ordered and you sunk to the ground, licking up your mess from his expensive shoes, the sticky salty juice lingering on your tongue. You were out of breath, exhausted and tender and a grab of your hair pulling you from the floor was what you needed as you had no strength to get up yourself. James cupped your chin, kissing you softly, his tongue licking your lips and getting a taste of yourself as you moaned against him.

“Thank you Sir” you murmured and he smiled, pecking your lips.

“I’m free on Thursday, three o’clock,” he said. You weren't even sure what you had on that day but you’d cancel it if it was in your way. You needed him. You nodded, completely exhausted and he pecked your lips one more time before standing and padding to the bathroom whilst you slumped on the chair, completely in bliss.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #dom bucky barnes #kinktober 2023

91 notes · View notes

luckydiorxoxo · 8 months

Text

Kamala Harris dancing to ‘Vivrant Thing’ by Q-Tip at her house party for the 50th Anniversary of Hip-Hop.

YASSS 🔥🔥

#yas #Kamala Harris #Madame vice president #50 years of hip hop #vice president Harris

33 notes · View notes

viatrixtravels · 7 months

Text

More Genshin High School AU

The students

Noelle is repeating her first year. She overworked herself to the point of falling ill on the day of the final exams and was held back as a result.

Everyone thinks Dori is an elementary schooler who wandered into high school. She claims not to be, but nobody knows the truth.

People often mistake Kaveh for being a second year student and Alhaitham for a third year, but it is actually the other way around. (Which very much upsets Kaveh)

Venti has been a 3rd year student forever. Nobody even remembers when he first enrolled at Teyvat High. If you ask him, he will simply respond with 'ehe~'

Albedo skipped a grade because he is too big brained.

The class presidents for each class are Ayaka (1st year), Yanfei (2nd year) and Ninguang (3rd year). Keqing volunteered to be class president but it would be too much to combine with her responsiblity on the disciplinary committee.

Student council

President - Furina

Vice president - Neuvilette

Treasurer - Zhongli

Secretary - Ganyu

Library committee

President - Alhaitham

Vice president - Xingqiu

Health committee

President - Kokomi

Vice president - Barbara

Student Disciplinary committee

President - Jean

Vice president - Keqing

School principal

Rukkhadevata

School counselor

Madame Ping

School doctor

Dottore (I had to)

Clubs

Lynette would be in the 'cannot be bothered' category but Lyney forced to join with him.

Similar situation with Chongyun who did not know which club to join so he followed his best friend Xingqiu to the literature club. He likes to read supernatural stories about demons and evil spirits.

Ganyu might eventually convince Xiao to join the gardening club with her. He finds being surrounded by plants and flowers strangely soothing. His favorite is the Qingxin flower.

Mona tried to make her own astrology club but there were no other members, so she eventually joined the art club instead.

Sara joined the cooking club with Ei so she can be there to stop Ei from setting the school kitchen on fire.

Cyno joined the debate club with the sole intention of making bad jokes for all of his arguments and annoying the heck out of his clubmates.

Wanderer is in the drama club because he's a DRAMA QUEEN.

There's several sports clubs so I'll leave it up to you guys' imagination which specific sport these characters would choose. uwu

#;; the admin speaks #;; high school AU #// I'm too deep in now guys!#// there's no way back!#// I'm still up to plotting for threads for this AU if you want to join in on the fun <3 #// you guys can also share personal headcanons with me!#// you can even send them in anonymously :3

42 notes · View notes

fa-dubu · 6 months

Text

i beat ch 4 last night/early this morning so i have some thots (in no particular or coherent order)

Lilya best girl. i thought she was great from her introduction, but what cemented my affection was her asking Sonetto how much chaos and damage she could cause and still get a slap on the wrist. drunken brawler she may be, but she's a drunken brawler that plans ahead. i don't know how much Lilya knows about when the 'Storm' occurs; if that night she was just following orders and thinking she needed to corral a bunch of 12yos breaking curfew. i think it'd be way worse if she knew the 'Storm' was touching down that night and in her failure, a bunch of innocent kids were redacted.

Constantine obviously defers to the President (currently still a Mystery Man Shrouded in Shadow) because of her position as Vice President, but their whispered conversation implies that there's someone even the President is taking orders from. are they the true leader behind the Foundation? who/what are they that they've got Constantine shaking and scrambling to allow the 'Storm Reformation' to pass? and while Constantine is following orders, the night she got a bunch of kids redacted was absolutely personal - she just wanted to yank Vertin's chain. Ch 4 set up several factions, amongst which Constantine v Madam Z is one. interesting that Constantine not only knows Madam Z enjoys Go, but knows enough about the lunar calendar and which day Z's birthday falls on. incheresting.

speaking of Z, i think her full name is 'Zhang ZhiZhi', based off the cake at the end of Ch 4.

another name, i think the Trails Narrator implies The Ring's name is Ken?

EDIT: more names!!! Forget Me Not, formerly known as Cavendish Jr.

Druvis is absolutely the strongest arcanist in Vertin's group right now. i'm so glad Vertin was able to win her over holy shit. girl was dropped into another era, separated from her allies, and still managed to seedbomb an entire Foundation building; setting up defenses, growing food, finding and busting out her allies. she just needs to come home OTL

the storm

while it's a worldwide phenomenon, where and when it strikes is localized (i remember reading this from a post in the tags) and after Ch 4, that seems to be the case

Sonetto testifying against the Chicago branch brings up that the Foundation members were aware they were living in 1929 Chicago.

so does this imply that 'Era' is a bit like its own dimension, with its own time and space?

when Vertin calls for backup from Madam Z, she requests the agents come in 'appropriate dress' so like.

but the Foundation is also keeping the 'Storm' under wraps. so do regular citizens know that when they travel, they might suddenly pop into a different 'era'?

all just speculation on my part; will need more info from later releases.

schneider schneider schneider OTL

EDIT: youngest of the Greco's 12 13 daughters. because of how big her family is and her position as the youngest, Schneider was left scrounging for scraps.

born and raised on an orange grove in Sicily, immigrating to Chicago at some point

EDIT: part of a crime family; family is religious but per the Trails Narrator, Schneider herself lost her faith at some point, only praying again when Vertin was asking for everyone's last wishes OTL

somehow discovered the 'Storm' was due to touch down in Chicago and attempted to request shelter for her family at the Foundation's Chicago branch but was rejected, owing to the Chicago branch's corruption

met Druvis at some point and had her modify her guns to be able to cast spells and pass as an arcanist (i wonder if that meant Druvis knew she was human the whole time or if schneider only told her she wanted her 'wands' upgraded and given Druvis' state of mind before meeting Vertin i doubt she'd dig that deep). does this mean humans are also capable of magic as long as they have the right tools? or is schneider special in this case?

posing as an arcanist, she offered her services to Forget Me Not and Manus Vindictae in return for shelter for her and her family

FMN is suspicious of her claim of being an arcanist that was adopted into a human family and has one of her sisters kidnapped and interrogated with truth serum. FMN knew Schneider was human while she kidnapped(?) arcanists for him/MV and dispatched humans that got in their way.

EDIT: that's right: Druvis was adopted into the Weyerhauser family!! assuming Druvis was already in contact with FMN/MV before Schneider, no wonder FMN was suspicious of a second 'arcanist' showing up with the same backstory.

i get the sense that Schneider doesn't have any particular feelings against arcanists (despite that being the attitude for the era) and i can understand why after Ch 4. after the way the Foundation's Chicago branch treated her and her family - despite being an organization that prioritizes the safety of humankind - of course she'd turn into a misanthrope.

several lines describe her as 'looking pale like a white pigeon[sic]'

after Lilya breaks Vertin out of the rehab center, while the 2 are in the air, doves fly by - Vertin even manages to grab a white feather out of the air

when the 2 meet up with Druvis and the others, a flock of doves land around them.

DEEP HUFF OF COPIUM

THEREFORE SCHNEIDER IS STILL HERE; THE DOVES HAVE TO MEAN SOMETHINGGGGGG

'Schneider' is just an alias; if she's coming back, she might be coming back under her real name.

#reverse 1999 spoilers #reverse 1999 #the drunkening

30 notes · View notes

madamspeaker · 2 years

Photo

Vice President Kamala Harris, her husband Doug Emhoff, and Speaker Nancy Pelosi attend the National Cathedral memorial service for Queen Elizabeth II (21st September, 2022)

#nancy pelosi #madam speaker #kamala harris #madam vice president #yes that is a grandson in the row behind #and yes i deliberately cropped the sack of shit that is mccarthy out of this #poor nancy having to spend a service stuck next to that asshole

8 notes · View notes

mr-president · 3 months

Note

Do you know of any petitions or email scripts to call for support for South Africas genocide case against Israel? I'm from the US and I've had trouble finding anything.

i do!

Here are the emails of:

President of the ICJ, Joan E Donoghue (United States): [email protected]

Vice-President Kirill, Gevorgian (Russian Federation): [email protected]

Judge Mohamed Bennouna (Morocco): [email protected]

Judge Ronny Abraham (France): [email protected]

Judge Georg Nolte (Germany): [email protected]

Judge Dalveer Bhandari (India): [email protected]

Judge Patrick Robinson (Jamaica): [email protected]

Judge Yuji Iwasawa (Japan): [email protected]

Judge Nawaf Salam (Lebanon): [email protected]

Judge Mohammad Bennouna (Morocco): [email protected]

Judge Peter Tomka (Slovakia): [email protected]

Judge Abdulqawi Ahmed Yusuf (Somalia): [email protected]

Judge Julia Sebutinde (Uganda): [email protected]

Judge Hilary Charlesworth (Australia): [email protected]

Judge Leonardo Brant (Brazil): [email protected]

Judge Xue Hanqin (China): [email protected]

And here is an email chain, taken from twitter here! They have more specific copy-pastes, like calling the ICJ “Madam President” or “Vice President, but the general one is below!”

Subject: Urgent Concerns Regarding the impending matter of South Africa v. Israel with the ICJ

Dear Honourable Judge [JUDGE NAME HERE]

I hope this message finds you well and resolute. My name is [Your Name], I am a concerned citizen of the [Your Country]. I am reaching out to you with a sense of urgency and sincere apprehension which prompts me to break my customary silence.

I have always held the belief that individuals in positions of authority, such as yourself, harbour the best interests of humanity at heart. However, recent developments in the Middle East and the global response to them have stirred doubt in my convictions, compelling me to express my concerns directly to you.

As I explored the International Court of Justice's website, I took solace in the fact that it consists of "independent judges, elected regardless of their nationality from among persons of high moral character." With this understanding, I address you regarding the impending South Africa v. Israel matter, the provisional measures hearing of which is scheduled for Thursday, 11th and Friday, 12th January 2024.

I am sure that you are acutely aware of the gravity of the case before you, and I believe that your ability to discern the truth, resist external pressures, and deliver a just judgment is foremost on your mind. The Genocide Convention, a cornerstone of international law, was established in 1948 as a commitment to 'never again' allow atrocities akin to those committed by the Nazi’s in WW2. 152 states out of 194 nations of the world honourably signed up to the convention. It is a testament to our parents and grandparents that their generations committed to a set of standards that constitute the basic principles of right and wrong, which underpin the fabric of the world we live in and form the basis of the lives most of us are lucky enough to lead.

The very fact that the responsibility of adjudicating on this case has fallen upon your shoulders underscores a disheartening truth – the failure of existing systems of checks and balances within the international community. It is disconcerting that national interests have tainted the operations of our global systems, allowing the mass killing of civilians to persist without intervention. I find this reality appalling, as do countless citizens around the world who have expressed their horror through protests on the streets of cities across the globe.

The upcoming case is a litmus test for humanity's commitment to the solemn pledge of 'Never Again.' Generations have been educated about the horrors of the Holocaust, and this case challenges us to live up to the principles we profess. It is a stark reminder that the values we hold dear are being tested in real-time, with devastating consequences.

In March 2022, the International Court of Justice ordered Russia to immediately suspend military operations in Ukraine and ensure that affiliated units take no further steps in furtherance of the military operations. Despite this intervention, an estimated 10,000 civilians have tragically lost their lives in Ukraine since Russia's military operation in 2022. Moreover, and by comparison, the death toll in Gaza has already surpassed 22,000 since October 2023, with a staggering 70% of the victims being women and children.

In an age where mainstream media faces scepticism due to perceived biases, the global community has been witness to Israel's actions in real-time through various social media platforms such as X, TikTok, and Telegram. Enclosed with this letter, you'll find compelling evidence pointing towards Israel's culpability in intending to commit genocide and engaging in genocidal military actions, among other alleged war crimes.

We find ourselves in a world where trust in global institutions is eroding rapidly. The International Court of Justice, in particular, cannot afford to make an erroneous judgment in the #SouthAfrica v. #Israel genocide case. A misjudgement in this matter would not only underscore the ICJ's ineffectiveness but also prompt scrutiny regarding its autonomy from nation-state political influences, potentially compromising the esteemed moral character of the individuals involved.

In 1945 we celebrated Winston Churchill as the leader that brought the world together in war to put-down the threat of Nazi Germany and the horror it inflicted. That war claimed over 50 million lives. We do not wish to celebrate a wartime hero again; we wish to celebrate new heroes who averted a war by presiding over justice without fear or favour.

I humbly beseech you to approach this case with the utmost diligence, impartiality, and commitment to justice. The eyes of the world are upon you, and the outcome of this particular case will reverberate through history, shaping perceptions of the ICJ's impartiality and moral standing.

Yours sincerely,

(Insert Name)

Also, here’s a bigass link about what’s being done and what you can do

And here’s a link where you can search for protests near you (remember, never give your personal information away if you’re going to a protest—don’t announce it publicly or nothing, yadda yadda):

hope this helps :D!

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #ceasefire #south africa #icj hearing #israel #free gaza #jerusalem #icj #international court of justice

32 notes · View notes

chadchadington · 2 years

Text

No don’t do it Madam Vice President! Don’t say the line!

309 notes · View notes

wambsgansshoelaces · 2 days

Text

Juvenile

Dan Eagan x Reader

errr so this is pretty shit but I promised a post so uhhh I’m sorry I promise it’ll get better just let me het into writing veep style I’d love to take requests 🙏🏽

pls don’t cringe too hard have fun I love you dan pls kiss me dan

Word Count: 1.452k

“Oh, fuck off,” you repeat for what you feel like is the thousandth time. Working for the VEEP is obviously a dream come true- you’d worked your entire life for this, and you’re damn good at your job too.

But of course, a man has to fuck it up for you.

Some jerk has come up from some senator’s office to talk with Selina, and unfortunately for you, he’s snagged right onto you on his way there.

“You kiss the VEEP with that mouth?” he asks, depositing himself on your desk, fuck-ass grin plastered on his face. You suck on your teeth, trying not to lose your shit. You make a weak attempt at ignoring the interloper, instead waving at Ed after he smiles at you shuffles into Selina’s office. “What’s Mr. Dry Spaghetti doing in there before me?”

“Madame Vice President has her priorities,” you reply simply, starting on some paperwork.

Instead of fucking off to wait his turn, like you’d hoped he would, his ass stays firmly on top of the pretty wood of your desk. A shame, you think, the wood is being desecrated.

“More time for the two of us, then?”

“I’d prefer not to.” You don’t look up from your work.

“Oh, come on.”

“I have work to do.” You abruptly stand from your desk chair, crossing the room to pretend like you’re doing something. Mike thankfully gives you a brief respite from what’s about to turn into a living hell, asking you about the difference between matcha and green tea. “What’d Selina ask for?”

“She asked for green tea, but I can’t tell if she means like the ones in the Arizona cans or like tea that’s green, which would be matcha, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, matcha isn’t tea,” you say back, a smile finally gracing your face. “So I’m assuming she meant green tea.”

“Do I just say that? I want some green tea?”

“That’s typically how you order things from places, yes. Where’s Gary? Isn’t this his job?”

“Probably having an anxious breakdown in a bathroom,” Mike mutters.

“Sounds more like you.”

“Where’s Dan?” he asks, changing the subject. “He’s supposed to have a statement for me…” He trails off, walking away from you and the conversation.

To your disappointment, your happiness is short lived. You feel a hand ghost on the small of your back, and it seems that Senate boy hasn’t gotten the hint.

“Do you need any help? I can make quick work of whatever it is you’re doing.”

“No, I’m fine,” you say harshly.

He takes you by the hip this time, turning you to face him. “How about we go out, then? Brunch? Lunch? Anything.” Your face flushes, your lips begin to form a scowl. Before you can yell at him, cuss him out, anything, Ed shuffles his way back out of Selina’s office and beelines it to you. He awkwardly pushes himself in between you and Senate boy, swatting his hand off of you.

Ed shoos the Senate boy into Selina’s office, giving you a pat on the shoulder on his way out. You murmur your thanks and goodbyes before wandering back to your desk to work in peace.

You manage to get a bit of work done, but your focus begins to waver as you hear Selina’s voice rising. Mike rushes back in, doing that goofy run of his, and pushes one of Selina’s office doors open. He barely gets to speak before he’s interrupted.

“Ma’am, I have that green tea you wa-”

“If you don’t have the fucking draft by tomorrow, ma’am, you’re in a WHOLE new black hole of shit-”

“You really think you can talk to me like that? I’ll have you know-”

Mike backs away from the doors, letting them click shut. He places the cup on your desk. “Your problem now. Where the fuck is Dan?”

Senate boy follows Mike closely out the door, practically screaming obscenities, and the ink on one of your documents suddenly becomes the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. “And don’t think I’ll forget how the Vice President treated me as a honored guest,” he shouts, voice tripping in venom. “And for the record, I never wanted to go out with and ugly fucking bitch like you, anyway.” You blink, barely registering the words spat in your direction. “Fuck off, Eagan, so I can come for your job so shit can actually get done here.”

He shoves past Dan, who’s standing in the doorway with his jaw ticking. “Oh, eat shit,” he mutters back. “Was he talking you you?” He comes over to you, setting the statement Mike’s been running after all morning gently on your desk.

“He’s just butthurt,” you manage, face heated. While you hadn’t taken anything he’d said personally, because Senate boy looked like an ingrown toenail and had the maturity of a spring onion, he’d made a scene in front of the entire office. And your ego wasn’t small enough to not be a bit bruised. You take Selina’s forgotten green tea and quickly run it to her. Dan follows, hands stuffed In his pockets.

“That’s Dale? From Senator Warrith’s office?” he asks, watching Selina pinch the bridge of her nose, wordlessly accepting her drink and demanding you and Dan piss off from her office.

He follows you back to your desk, his eyes staying on you. “I don’t know his name,” you say exasperatedly. You tap at the documents Dan’d set on your desk moments earlier. “Mike’s been looking for these.”

He leans against your desk as you sit down. “I know. That’s why I gave them to you.” You can’t help but smile, properly filing the papers away to be put on Selina’s desk. “What, are you just going to let him talk to you like that?”

“What can I do? File a complaint?” You scoff. “There’d be more use in me sending letters to Santa.”

“I’m not going to let him talk to you like that.” He cards a hand through his hair. “You’re on the Jonad drive.”

“You’re going to bully him?” you ask, laughing.

“Of course I’m going to bully him. It always works.” He raps once on your desk with his knuckles before he straightens out. “I’m going to go visit Shrimp Dick.”

“Shrimp Dick? That’s the best you can do?”

“Shrimp Dick is the least of what’s going to happen to him. It’s factual, too.”

“Can we stop saying shrimp dick? I’m on the phone,” Sue states, expression sharp.

“Point is,” Dan continues, keeping his focus on you, “you will be avenged.”

You make a face. “What are we, twelve? This is all so juvenile, Dan.”

He shrugs. “Just making sure you know.” He adjusts his tie, taking a few steps in the direction of the exit, before turning right back to you. “You’re not ugly. Or a bitch,” he says too loudly. His face pinkens. “Just making sure you know.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Later that day, you’re running between buildings, trying to get ready for a prep release, when you hear your name murmured in conversation.

“I don’t give a shit if he’s that goose that fucking lays golden eggs, Senator Warrith. He harassed a close colleague of mine, and I can’t even begin on his attitude towards Madame Vice President.” You can recognize Dan’s voice. You’ve been hearing it for long enough. “I mean, he walked in like he owned the place, disrespected everyone, shouted at Madame VEEP, and threatened me, so by proxy, her. I really don’t see how you can tolerate anything of the sort.”

You try to make it past them unnoticed, but the two finish their conversation as soon as you’re near. Dan peels away from the senator, falling into step beside you. The two of you stay in a comfortable silence for a bit before he speaks. “I’m sorry if anything I did made you uncomfortable.”

“What, you? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You both stop before the press room, stealing moments for yourselves. “You hit your head? I’ve never heard you apologize to anyone before.”

He smiles at you before ducking his head down to inspect his dress shoes. “Dale won’t be around anymore.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, Dan.”

“Naw, nobody liked him, anyway.” He brushes an imaginary speck of dust off of your shoulder. “They also found evidence of fraud. Which I might’ve pointed them in the direction of. They also all call him Shrimp Dick now.”

You reach out, pulling his blazer shut and straightening his tie. “Well, thank you for caring.” You even out his collar. “In your own little neurotic way.”

“I like caring about you. It’s… nice.”

#dan eagan #dan eagan x reader #dan eagan oneshot #veep #veep x reader #veep fic #veep hbo #cries I’ve lost my writing power

8 notes · View notes