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astralaffairs · 4 years

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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.

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Note

For sentence prompts: "I'll always be on your team" starker 😊

I’ll Get You Up On Your Feet

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: General (G) Word Count: ~2.5k Notes: I’m not the biggest Noah Cyrus fan, but I thought of her song Team almost instantly. I kind of went from there - I hope you enjoy the cheeky fluffiness, nonnie! Warnings: None, it’s saccharine sweet, y’all. Summary:

Tony is used to the media blowing his name up. He’s dealt with it his entire life. Peter, on the other hand, is still adjusting. A nasty comment on a special picture gives Tony insight on Peter that he never had before.

do the thing, send in all the prompts

For the most part, Tony didn’t mind being a household name.

A lot of years, his name had a negative connotation connected with it – whether it was because of his weapons industry monopoly or the playboy portion of his notorious nickname, people turned their noses up at his name in the headlines.

His stint in the desert changed not only his perspective, but the general public’s, too. Everyone loved a good sob story, even if it came at the price of a bit of Tony’s sanity and the inherent safety he felt up until that point. Though the Iron Man suit brought him positive notoriety, Tony pursued the good he could do with it for purely selfish reasons. He survived the miserable conditions and all odds bet against him for a reason. That guided his moral compass.

Then, he met Peter Parker. At first, his interests were strictly on Spider-Man and the brilliance that Peter could create when behind the mask. Even in pajamas and pool goggles, he moved marvelously and got the job done without any hesitation. It became abundantly clear that with a good support system, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man could easily be a hero that the world needed.

Try as he might, Tony did not possess the strength to keep Peter away from the dangerous situations. Besides the fact that they needed the skill and intelligence he possessed, Tony was acutely aware of the truth that Peter did belong amongst them and his youth was not an exclusionary criterion. It couldn’t be – not when Peter understood what it was like to carry the world on his shoulders.

After Thanos, there wasn’t denying anyone’s worth – the entirety of the Avenger’s collective put everything they had into the plan, execution, and inevitable defeat of the biggest foe the world took on to date. From that point on, there was no point in trying to deny anything – especially when it came to Peter. The boy he met in the small apartment in Queens was no longer the youth Tony forced himself to categorize him as. It was easier to think of him as a kid than admit that so many things he saw in Peter were exactly what he was looking for.

Even though the realization came, Tony still felt a little hesitant. He offered Peter a position in his lab that equated to something full time in R&D while he went to school, so they were always around each other. There seemed to always be a power balance between them – one that, when the media got a whiff of, would be the highlight of the story; not the relationship that Tony knew they could have. Though, the more he thought about it, the easier it was to see that any relationship with Peter would be scrutinized – their history together was too deep.

Peter did not have the same qualms, however. Tony noticed the flirting when he first started working in the lab. It wasn’t subtle, though, he didn’t think Peter was trying to be. At 20, Tony remembered the ruthless way he went after the things he wanted – he recognized the hunger for that in Peter’s eyes almost instantly. Tony tried to resist it for as long as he could, but the siren call of a connection that just made sense couldn’t be fought. Especially when, in most circumstances, Tony was a hopeless mess that never picked the right fights.

At least Tony felt the satisfaction of finally making the first move. It was only a matter of time, the two of them were dancing around each other – Tony let himself lean into Peter’s touches more and when the dam broke, he pulled him in by the hips and pressed their lips together so tenderly. Peter’s gasp gave him just enough room to deepen it; and suddenly, the line was crossed.

Most of the people around them took to their relationship pretty easily. Of course, the team had a few reservations about objectivity, but with the way Tony was trying to take a step back from the actual battle part of the Avenger gig, it wasn’t too difficult to reassure everyone that missions would come first. When it was reasonable, at least. Though, Tony didn’t voice that to anyone but Peter. May wasn’t hard to convince once Peter was able to make her understand that the move was recent and that at 20, he was more than capable of making his own choices.

For the sake of actually enjoying things between them without the world’s opinion, Tony and Peter spent the first 2 years of their relationship keeping it on the way down low. They were plenty open in front of the team and around Happy and Pepper who were surprisingly supportive of the whole thing – but in public, Tony tried to keep the dopey smile off his face and worked exceedingly hard not to touch Peter, no matter how much he wanted to.

When Peter graduated college, Tony took things one step further between them and got down on one knee in the comfort of the sleek kitchen of Stark Tower. The dark tungsten of the ring looked good on Peter’s skin and immediately drew media attention when it was in pictures the very next day. It seemed like a good time to finally let the world know about the love that ran so deeply between them.

Of course, Tony’s worst fears showed their ugly head almost immediately. Every media outlet that ever wanted to say something bad about Tony decided to pick apart the entirety of their relationship – starting when Spider-Man joined the Avengers. It was a rough blow to the wall he created around the precious thing between him and Peter. They’d been in the dark hiding for so long, it took him a little while to adjust to the bright light of unrelenting cameras flashing and rumors being created just because.

He figured that letting a news outlet like People take care of the photography for their wedding would calm the craziness down a little bit. The entire thing was understated and highlighted who they were together as a couple. Peter smashed cake in his face, and they ended the night with the cheesiest walk under sparklers that were some of the hardest things to procure out of all the wedding supplies that ended up being necessary.

The photos were beautiful and the write up that went with it actually did justice to the sincerity of the relationship between him and Peter. It took the heat off of them for a little while – the cuteness and novelty of two of the world’s superheroes getting hitched sparked an entirely different discussion than the age different between two consenting adults.

That’s what he thought, anyway.

A couple weeks after coming back from their honeymoon, Tony found Peter on the couch looking at his phone with the grumpiest expression. The ache to rub the crease between his brows away settled in the tip of his fingers, but he ignored it, sitting on the cushion next to him instead. “What’s up, Pete?” Tony asked as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to his husband’s temple.

“Pepper told me not to ever look at the comments when I first joined up, you know?” Peter mumbled, his voice a little hoarse from the obvious emotion coursing through him. The question was rhetorical – that was rule number one when trying to keep ahold of sanity while constantly under public scrutiny. Peter knew that, too – but sometimes desire easily bypassed rational thinking.

“I put up the most beautiful picture from our wedding. The one where you’re gazing at me like I’m the greatest gift to the world. And I forgot – just for a second. That people suck.” Peter shrugged, the defeated gesture making his heart pang.

For the longest time, Peter didn’t want to sit in the limelight – Tony and the rest of the crew did what they could to make sure Peter’s identity remained a secret. It was enough to get him through high school and then another year or two through college before it got too hard to hide. Tony remembered the conversation they had about Peter taking the last step out of the dark vividly – even then, he’d been apprehensive. More than anything, Tony understood the mourning of his private life.

Wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, Tony pulled him tightly against him, the shininess of the ring on Peter’s finger catching his eye – he still got a little giddy thinking about the look on his face when Carol pronounced them husbands. He grabbed up that hand and pressed a kiss to the ring and the knuckles surrounding it.

“It sucks, doesn’t it? Being under the microscope of people that don’t know you or anything about you or your life. The judgement of a populace that only gets news presented to them by people that have an agenda.” He bite down on all the other comparisons that wanted to flow out of his mouth – Peter got the point, he could see it in his eyes.

“What doesn’t suck, though, is the fact that you’re mine. Or the fact that despite what people want to believe, our relationship is built on a foundation that is unshakable and as pure as the carnality of a marriage can be. Fuck them, Pete. If I’ve learned anything, that’s all the really matters. We didn’t save the world to live within it half-assed. I love you. No one gets to take that away from me – or us.”

Peter leaned into him; the frantic nodding of his head felt against the solid part of Tony’s chest. He recognized strong arms circling around his middle, crushing him against Peter in a way that he’d grown familiar with over the years. His husband was so incredibly cognizant of the truth of his statements – Tony could tell by the silence that engulfed them, and the way he merely squeezed him tightly.

“You’re right, Tones. You’re right. It just got under my skin – the way people decided to disregard something that’s so real and pure and honest. I always want to defend you. Your character shouldn’t suffer because love for you came in the package of someone that’s younger. It’s grossly unfair,” Peter retorted, the huff in his breath making his voice come off pouty and the slightest bit childish.

It warmed Tony’s heart.

“Pete, the fact that you’re on my team is more than enough. I’m used to the outlandish things people want to paint me with. You’re all I need. Knowing that you don’t think those things, is the easiest way for me to stay firm and not care about what people think.” Turning a little, Tony grabbed Peter’s cheeks softly, his thumbs tracing the seam of Peter’s lips.

“I’ll always be on your team,” Peter whispered, his lips kissing at Tony’s thumb with every pass of the digit. “I love you, Tony.”

Tony leaned forward and pressed their lips together then, his eyes closing when Peter wrapped his arms around his middle and pulled him in closer. He still needed to go back to the lab and finish the latest experiment they were working on, but in that moment, it felt more important to keep Peter close and enjoy the fact that his husband loved him so damn much. Enough to be offended by the shit people said about him, to want to stand up and defend him for all he’s worth.

The unfortunate truth of the matter was, Peter would have to get used to it – Tony couldn’t escape his past or the fact that the people believed that he owed them a piece of himself. Of course, Tony didn’t need to throw that in his young husband’s face just yet; there’d be more than enough time for that learning lesson. Instead, he let Peter lead them through a deep kiss, their lips kiss swollen when the need to breath pulled them away from each other.

“I love you too, Pete,” Tony muttered against Peter’s lips, “but, I know you knew that already.” He pulled back and tossed Pete a beaming smile. A moment later, an idea slipped across the front of his mind and made the look on his face transform quickly from affection to mischief.

“Want to really say fuck ‘em?” he asked, getting up off the couch and pulling Peter with him.

He walked them down the hallway until they were outside of their bedroom – Peter quirked a brow at him but didn’t say a thing. Tony walked them forward until he was kicking off his shoes and crawling into the middle of the bed. “Come on,” Tony beckoned, his back flat against the mattress and arm spread open wide for Peter to settle in against his chest.

Peter, being the beaming baby that he was, didn’t hesitate to crawl into the space Tony left for him, his face settling into the nook of his husband’s shoulder. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s wide shoulders and pulled him close.

Getting his phone out of his pocket took a bit of maneuvering, but he finally did and fucked around with it until the camera was facing them. “Be extra cute, Petey,” Tony said, his voice soft as he lifted the camera above them. Wrapping Peter up and turning his head, Tony snapped a few shots – his thumb hitting the button over and over again.

Greedy hands took his phone from him before Tony could swipe through the different pictures he’d taken. It was all well and good – he and Peter both looked amazing in any pictures they ever took of each other or together. The prints from their wedding they decided to have put up a couple of days ago were proof of that.

A soft rush of air leaving Peter’s lips had Tony looking over, his eyes softening when he saw the picture that Peter was looking at. Tony’s lips were spread in a smile against Peter’s forehead. Peter’s eyes were closed and the expression on his face was absolutely blissful. His hand was on Tony’s cheek where the gleaming wedding ring was abundantly obvious. The natural way they fit together came through in the picture – there was no deny it.

“Put that one up. Force those shitty people to see just how good we are together.”

The vibration in his pocket a little while later had him pulling his phone out. Grinning when he saw the @PeteParkerStark Instagram notification and quickly went about pulling the post up. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh when he saw it – the little reminders of why Peter Parker Stark was his husband never failed to blow him away.

There, under the picture they’d just taken, was a caption that read – ‘fuck ‘em <3’.

#starker #ironspider #ask prompts #bobbie writes #i'll get you up on your feet

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superlinguo · 5 years

Text

Linguistics Jobs: Interview with a Product Manager

A lot of tech people I know say “the best skill a programmer can have is knowing how to look up the right answer on Stack Exchange” It’s one of those websites that people use every day, but perhaps without thinking about how it gets built. Megan Risdal is one of the people who make Stack Overflow happen, as a Product Manager leading Public Q&A. As Megan mentions below, there’s even a Linguistics Stack Exchange (you might just see some old answers from me there). Megan has not only forged a career for herself in tech, she helps demystify the industry for other linguists who might follow in her footsteps, on Twitter (@MeganRisdal) and her blog.

What did you study at university?

My undergraduate degree is in Psychology from the University of Wisconsin, Eau Claire where my interests were in individual differences. I also did a minor in French and this is where I first learned about linguistics as a field of study. My combined interests in language and individual differences psychology led me to completing a senior thesis project on variation in attitudes towards linguistic diversity. Just last year this work was published with my then advisor, Dr. Erica Benson, as a chapter in Language Regard: Methods, Variation, and Change.

From here, I did a Master's degree in Sociolinguistics at North Carolina State University. Building on my statistics background from studying psychology, I dove deeper into quantitative methods, learning R along the way, while focusing on sociophonetics and laboratory phonology. For my capstone project, I measured articulatory (ultrasound tongue imaging), aerodynamic, (nasal/oral airflow), and acoustic variation in coarticulatory vowel nasalization strategies among Anglo-American and African American (Vernacular) English speakers.

Finally, I started a PhD at UCLA where I intended to continue studying laboratory phonology. I only ended up finishing one year which was spent on theoretical foundations, articulatory phonetics, and learnability before leaving with a second Master's degree in Linguistics. I ended up deciding to leave academia because I was disillusioned already with the prospect of the job market and the limited potential for my work to have impact beyond academia. I made my mind up when I applied for a job at Google and got an interview. I ultimately failed, but this was enough for me to feel confident my resume was "good enough" (completely incidentally I ended up later getting hired and working at Google for a couple of years prior to my current role).

What is your job?

For the past six months I've been working as a Product Manager at Stack Overflow where I lead the team working on public Q&A. If you're not familiar with Stack Overflow, it's a site where anyone who codes can come to find answers to their programming questions. We also have the Stack Exchange network which has similar Q&A sites for other topics like cooking and anime. There's even a Linguistics Stack Exchange site.

In my day-to-day, as a product manager, I work closely with our developers, designers, researchers, data scientists, community managers, marketing, and leadership. So, it's a lot of meetings and a lot of Google Docs. My job entails taking many, many inputs and synthesizing them into a strategy and product roadmap that the team executes on to make Stack Overflow a more useful, engaging place for all developers. On a given day, you could catch me writing a new feature specification for a developer, reviewing results of an experiment with our data scientists, or dropping in on user interviews. One of the things I love the most about my job is the variety. If a project is slipping or we just don't have the resources for something important, I'm the person who can step in and do what it takes to make sure the work of my collaborators adds up to something successful.

How does your linguistics training help you in your job?

My training in linguistics absolutely helps me.

First, and most importantly I believe, my background in sociolinguistics has taught me the significance of diversity among groups of people (like users of a product) in so many ways. For example, Stack Overflow sees many millions of users every month, but we know that not everyone is equally likely to participate on the site. There are huge, intimidating barriers to participation which disproportionately impact different groups of people depending on things like their background and experience coding. So every day I think about how changes to the product will affect different types of users. Me and my team are constantly striving to better understand the important ways our users vary in their backgrounds, motivations, and pain points and how we can better meet their needs. Especially in a globally diverse online community like ours where users interact and community with each other it's extremely important for me and my colleagues to think about always.

Second, and more concretely, the quantitative methods and experimental best practices I acquired while studying linguistics are highly applicable to my day-to-day job. We make use of a lot of different qualitative and quantitative research methods at Stack Overflow and having training in this area allows me to leverage these resources effectively in my product decision-making. Before I joined Stack Overflow, I had also spent some time as a data scientist, so my background in statistics and R was extremely relevant there. Without this training, I don't think I would be where I am today.

Do you have any advice do you wish someone had given to you about linguistics/careers/university?

Overall, I'm very happy with my trajectory. I'm extremely grateful to everyone who supported me at every stage and I would not be where I am today without all of these experience (yes including dropping out of a PhD!). That said, some thing that I wish I had encountered sooner are:

Seriously, build a public portfolio. Make your work visible. Curate an online presence. Having even a just a modest Twitter following and some publicly discoverable content with my name on it has helped me immeasurably in my career. Oh, and learn git.

Pay some attention to what's going on outside of your academic bubble. I fully intended to stay in academia when I started my PhD at UCLA. Had I thought somewhat ahead of time about the possibility that I would end up industry, I may have prioritized different classes or perhaps even chosen a different PhD program altogether. For example, if you have a choice between learning OCaml and Python, maybe see what non-academia has to say, too, as an input to your decision. Then again, hindsight is 2020. I would have seriously regretted not taking statistics/research methods under any circumstances, though.

Any other thoughts or comments?

I think every tech company should look to hire people trained in linguistics. There are so, so many ways in which a background in linguistics is relevant to so many careers in tech. From user research to data science to (apparently) product management, a background in linguistics adds a unique and valuable perspective. If you're not sure what you're qualified for, carefully tailor your experience, cast your net wide, and seek out advice!

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megashadowdragon · 3 years

Text

on lukes moment of weakness and how it is fitting for luke among other comments

Personally I TOTALLY believe that George's Luke would have been VERY similarly to Rian's Luke.

And here is the reason why.... Luke has almost always been George's insert (lucas pronunced luke S ) and it makes total sense for Luke to be "exiled" and secluded away just as George became with Star Wars after the backlash of the prequels. But at the end of it, he comes back and stands up for what makes Star Wars what it is. Which is what Luke does for the Jedi and themes of Star Wars by the end of TLJ. He has learned from his mistakes, atoned for them, found redemption, confronted those he has failed, inspired hope, and learned to show compassion once again.

Now while George may have done it differently, I do believe that Luke being in exile was a metaphor for George's own relationship with Star Wars and its fandom.

www . reddit . com/r/StarWars/comments/ebb4f3/lukes_momentaneous_thought_of_killing_ben_solo/

I know I'm stepping on dangerous territory here by talking about The Last Jedi, and I only do this because I think this is an interesting take on a key moment of the movie. Just bear in mind that I do not intend to make my point-of-view the absolute truth of it. After all, this is just my opinion.

We all know very well how divisive Episode VIII was, with many people pationately hating that movie. One of the main reasons of complaint is the fact Luke Skywalker had attempted to kill his apprentice and nephew, Ben Solo, because he sensed the Dark Side to be too strong in the latter. Luke Skywalker, the only person in the entire galaxy that saw there was still light in Darth Vader, tried to kill his relative. When even Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda had lost all hope Anakin could be saved, Luke helped putting him on the path of redemption, helping Vader turn back to the Light and fulfill the prophecy of the Chosen One. It seems to be an insult that this same character gave up on his nephew so easily and tried to kill him.

I believe things must be analyzed more carefully.

I've just finished marathoning the Skywalker Saga (by the way, I STRONGLY recommend the Ersnt Rister order: IV-V-I-II-III-VI) and noticed something very interesting while watching Return Of The Jedi.

During the final moments of Luke and Vader's duel aboard the Death Star II, we see the young Jedi Knight wants to avoid fighting his father so as not to fall in the trecharous web of Palpatine, who wants to turn the young Skywalker to the Dark Side. Luke is hiding beneath the Emperor's throne. Vader chases him and, through the Force, reads Luke's thoughts to lure him into confrontation:

You cannot hide forever, Luke. Give yourself to the Dark Side. It is the only way you can save your friends. Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for... sister! So, you have a twin sister!

In this moment, we see Luke's face and he's completely terrified by the idea Darth Vader found out about his sister. It is something new and Luke fears for Leia's well-being. Also, we hear from Vader's words that he cares a lot about his friends, the people he loves. Vader continues:

Your feelings have now betrayed her too. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the Dark Side, THEN PERHAPS SHE WILL!

Now we have something different. Since he was brought before the Emperor, Luke had been constatly confronted by Palpatine and Vader with the idea of him turning to the Dark Side. When Vader talks about the possibility of that happening to Leia, it's not a threat directed to him, but to someone he loves. In this moment, Luke loses it completly and attacks Vader viciously, totally enraged. The Sith Lord can't stand the power of his son, fuelled by hate and falls to the ground, defeated. In this moment Luke is prepared to make the final blow, but then he hears Palpatine laughing and clapping. This makes him go back to his senses and realize what he's been doing. He then turns off his lightsaber and refuses to kill his father.

"I'm a Jedi, like my father before me" and so on... we know what happens, so let's fast-forward to The Last Jedi.

When Luke is confronted by Rey, who demands him to tell what had happened between him and Kylo Ren, we learn how things unfolded through Luke's perspective:

I saw darkness. I sensed it building in him. I'd seen it in moments during his training. But then I looked inside, and it was beyond what I ever imagined.

In this moment of the flashback we see Luke's hand reaching out to his lightsaber, almost unconsciously. He then proceeds:

. He would bring destruction and pain and death, AND THE END OF EVERYTHING I LOVE BECAUSE OF WHAT HE WILL BECOME, AND FOR THE BRIEFEST MOMENT OF PURE INSTINCT, I THOUGHT I COULD STOP IT.

Here it is again. Like in Episode VI, we see Luke reacting in a similar way by the notion of something posing a threat not to him, but to the people he loves and cares about. Luke feared Ben would destroy everything he cherished, just like Vader had threatened by turning Leia to the dark. And, just like in the OT, it was a passing shadow:

It passed like a fleeting shadow, and I was left with shame and with consequence. And the last thing I saw were the eyes of a frightened boy whose Master had failed him.

I've already written way more than I expected, so I'll just conclude here. I've realized the act Luke commits in the Sequels is the same (or at least VERY similar) as from the OT: he attempted to kill Vader then his nephew, out of fear of seeing what/who he loved destroyed. He repented and managed to stop himself in the act in both situations. And he was ashamed. So, at least regarding this point of the movie, I see the same Luke Skywalker.

(luke had more to lose now then he did before

another example which I saw dont remember where I saw it but I saved the comments unfortunately I didnt put in the links:

edit: (now I remember www . reddit . com/r/StarWars/comments/9a3hdl/)

Luke considered killing Ben for about two seconds in a vulnerable moment

Sort of like he almost got baited into killing Vader by a few mocking words, and cut the hand off his own father in blind rage.

Luke is still just a person. If we've learned anything in Star Wars it's that the Jedi are not superhuman paragons of virtue and perfection, no matter how they might appear to the unwashed masses in the SW universe. They have the same flaws, temptations, failures, etc as anyone else. Yes the Force can help them overcome some of this, but they're far from perfect. Luke could have, and I agree should have grown in a positive way, but it's not impossible or even unbelievable that he didn't. He just had his life's labor wiped out in front of him and blamed himself for it. All those years of finding lost Jedi knowledge and artifacts, being what he believed to be the last Jedi in the universe with the responsibility to restart the order on his shoulders alone. All those lives that he took under his protection and guidance as the Master of the new order, wiped out in one night. Because of him (at least in his mind). Everything he was working towards for years just totally undone in a few hours and it was all his fault.

So he leaves and says fuck the whole lot of it. He lives by himself, stews in his misery and regret, retreats into himself and rejects the most foundational principle of the whole concept of being a Jedi: to help people. He's the most powerful Force user alive and he's wasting away by himself on some desolate rock, swearing off the rest of the galaxy because he thinks that he's a failure, that he wasn't strong or good enough, that he can't win, that it's not even worth it to try anymore, and that even at the height of his wisdom and power, it was all undone, and by himself no less.

another comment

Stuff has changed, I mean he’s quicker to come to his senses. I wouldn’t call that his flaw though. His flaw is one of his greatest traits, his care for his friends and family. It’s a flaw cause it causes implusive actions, lashing out on Vader, leaving Yoda, a single thought that he could stop a horrible fate in Ben.

I personal struggle with a temptation in my life, a temptation to do something my faith says is wrong to do. I may have overcome it some days, but other days, whether the same circumstances or not, I might fall into it. Temptations are a constant battle, not a one and done thing. Flaws are similar, you don’t just grow past a flaw after one instance.

Because a day may come when you will brought face-to-face with that temptation or flaw again, but the circumstances will be different, and it won’t be so easy to overcome.

You mentioned Toy Story in a post, and that’s a decent example when it comes to one facet. Woody might not get jealous when another flashy toy comes along that gets more attention like Buzz did.

A better example of the nagging of a temptation, like Luke dealt with, is in Lord of the Rings. The Ring is a constant temptation to the bearer and those around them. At least by the film, Frodo may have resisted the urge to use it under the tree, but he still was tempted to use it at other times, and it was a constant battle. Same with Bilbo. Bilbo held the ring for 60 years. And the temptation of it held him greatly. He drops the Ring in Bag End, letting it go. If he was viewed similarly to how people viewed Luke tossing the saber, that’d mean he freed himself from it’s grasp and from the temptation to take and use it. We see in Rivendell that isn’t the case for him. He has a moment of wanting to take it back, and even at the end of his time in Middle Earth, he inquires about it, although more innocently curious.

That would be more similar to Luke’s case. To fall to the dark is a constant temptation that Jedi should always be aware of, and if you get close at one point, there’s the possibility that it’ll happen again, and if you aren’t prepared or it comes in a different form, you’ll either fall or get really close.

That turned out longer than I meant it, but I see this idea and..it’s just not the case.

another comment

Just because you get older doesn't mean you necessarily get wiser and better.

Jedi are still people (and some aliens, but you get the meaning), and the prequels (and even the OT) showed that even the oldest and wisest among the Jedi were capable of mistakes and misjudgments.

I think it's unreasonable to assume Luke should have become incapable of making, or even repeating mistakes and succumbing to emotion.

Right because people only get better as they get older and we grow past our flaws and doubts permanently right?

You guys are weird.

Luke overcame that moment of doubt before he almost struck Vader down and you think what ....... Luke got some kind of videogame like powerup where that character flaw would never come back again?

Some of you have a very black and white (boring) opinion on life and human growth.

Spoiler: People have flaws, we don't all overcome those flaws.Your boy Luke is no exception.

Consider what nearly proved to be his downfall in Return of the Jedi: for all the Emperor's taunting about the Rebel Alliance's imminent demise, it was Darth Vader who finally pushed his Berserk Button by discovering that Leia was his twin sister and suggesting that if Luke didn't change sides, he and his master might have better luck turning her. Then, when Luke went berserk, it totally worked: he curb-stomped Darth Vader and still didn't go evil in the end. His father's killing off the Emperor also put an end to a whole lot of the Empire's evil and birthed the New Republic.

Flash forward thirty years, and once again someone is threatening everyone and everything Luke loves, and killing the guy would surely preempt a whole lot of trouble. In his heart of hearts, he doubtless remembers what Yoda taught him about how easy and seductive the Dark Side is, but he also remembers how Yoda's mistake of hiding the truth about his lineage from him nearly brought his downfall. He also remembers how killing the Emperor solved so many problems the way he'd better not try to solve them this time... Well, what's so tempting about that?

Luke had more to lose at this time. He knew what a relatively free, peaceful Galaxy looked like, and had other students to care for besides Ben. Instinctively, he was acting out of concern for them. Luke makes an important point when he gives Rey the truth: it is a split second. Luke is a hero, but he's human. He was impulsive and acted on instinct in his youth, so the fear of Ben turning is enough to push him to the edge for a second.

hopeforben . tumblr . com/post/623000635980333056/theres-a-significant-portion-of-the-fandom-that/embed

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#star wars #star wars the last jedi #luke skywalker #star wars meta

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reifromrfa · 5 years

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Threads of Thoughts | Juminzine Fic

Hi guys! Here’s my fic for the @juminfanzine! :)

This is a bit different from my other pieces, but I really hope you like it <3 I love Jumin and it was so much fun to try and write from his perspective ^^ Thank you to everyone who supported the zine!

Also, thank you to my amazing collab partner, Franjipantree (follow her on twitter!) <3

Enjoy! :D

Heir Exclusive is privileged to get a sneak peek into the thoughts of Korea’s wealthiest man, Jumin Han. The following is an excerpt from his upcoming memoir, Threads of Thoughts, capturing the innermost thoughts of C&R’s CEO regarding the various kidnapping attempts throughout his life. His book will be available early next year in bookstores internationally.

1st of September, 2018 | 01:42am

I have always been different. Born into wealth, my experiences differ from the normal South Korean citizen. I do not drive…I have chauffeurs. My meals are planned for me by a professional nutritionist, my physical health overseen by a personal trainer. At a young age, I have been taught how to run a business, given advanced lessons…I have been placed on a luxury jet, while other children share a bus or take the public transport.

We never choose the families we are born into. As children, we simply do what we are told, accept the cards we have been dealt; it is up to us to decide whether it will be a winning hand or not. I, of course, knew at a young age that I would inherit my father’s massive business empire —as Chairman Han’s sole heir, who else would he trust to run his company? I had been dealt a winning hand, but that did not mean I was going to relax; no, I intended to use my cards to my advantage and further increase their value.

There are those who cannot comprehend that the fortune my father amassed was gained through hard work…a sincere dedication to his business. There are those who take one look and classify my family and I as aristocratic snobs…as people who live off of their fortune, spending days languidly beside luxury pools or sophisticated parties. I do not feel the need to defend myself against such false accusations. C&R stands tall and firm because of the foundations my father erected, and as his heir, I plan to continue his legacy.

Unfortunately, the world is rife with greed. People will do anything for an easy way out...A shortcut to wealth, to a better life. This journal is where I am able to freely express my unfiltered thoughts. What I wish to talk about tonight is not about our family business…nor is it about my father. No…I wish to talk about the people who allow their greed to consume them, enough so they dare to commit atrocious crimes.

Such as kidnap.

I remember when I was a young boy…I did not question the team of elite bodyguards who accompanied me everywhere I went. I knew my status made me an easy target: sole heir of C&R, a mere child with no means to defend himself. I was already wary of people; who wouldn’t be, with my father’s endless parade of women? And having my father tell me of the threats to my life…of course I trusted him. He is my father, who else would care about my safety more than him?

Indeed, he was right about the dangers that lurk outside the walls of our estate. The first time someone ever attempted to kidnap me…yes, I still remember it vividly.

Class had just ended. I was safely in our car, seatbelt securely fastened when several black vans blocked our path and men with guns exited the vehicle. The other car with my backup bodyguards was nowhere to be seen. The guards with me immediately drew their own guns as we were surrounded by the strangers in masks. I watched the men shoot at our bulletproof windshield, try to pry open the doors with crowbars, yell out threats and demands from outside.

My father warned me about such situations. He said I should remain calm and think rationally, putting my safety above everything else. Showing fear would only give them more power, more leverage. I knew my father loved me —he still does. He would never give me false advice. Therefore I remained calm. Composed. Not showing a trace of fear to the barbaric kidnappers outside the vehicle. With the heavily tinted windows, I doubt they were able to see me anyway.

It was over before it even began. One minute, the men were threatening us while shooting at our car, the next, my bodyguards from the other vehicle came and shot their leader, bringing the other kidnappers to their knees. I still recall the bodyguards exiting the car, leaving me sitting in the back while they rounded up the kidnappers and surveyed the area. Only Driver Kim remained with me, offering a kind, reassuring smile.

My close encounter with the kidnappers was all over the news that evening. My father shielded me from the rabid reporters and hungry journalists, desperate for the drama a ‘traumatized rich boy' such as myself would offer. Yes, it was quite a shocking experience…but I would not go as far as to calling myself ‘traumatized’. Worried, my father had me examined by various health professionals, checking my physical and mental health with regards to the event…I was fine. I did not want to cause a fuss, and I was safely in the car when everything was happening. My father did not have to worry about me. I didn’t know it then, but that experience would be one of the many kidnapping attempts throughout my life.

To be honest, I do think these experiences have affected me subconsciously. At a young age, I have learned that humans are fragile creatures…easily broken. Humans are greedy and cannot be trusted. There are lengths to which some people would go, for money.

As an adult, I am very much aware of my status and the people who relentlessly chase me for my wealth. That is why I have hired the top men who would ensure my safety and my loved ones’ security. It has made me wary and indifferent to most people.

But she…she is different. My beloved MC…my precious wife. She has brought immense joy to my life, and to be honest, I am able to breathe easier when she is with me. The threads…she untangles them for me, loosens their hold on me.

She is my life.

And it terrifies me.

I know how easy it is for things to change…how easy it is to manipulate the thread of life. Just one snip…and a life is over. It is ironic that one such as I, a man with wealth and power, can have so much to fear.

But no amount of money in the world can ever bring back those we have lost…and I came very close to losing her today. Gone are the days that kidnappers targeted me. No…they know my weakness now. They know I would do anything for my wife. If it were me they took, I would never give the kidnappers anything. Therefore, they grew bold and tried to kidnap my wife.

Earlier this afternoon, MC had insisted to go out with Assistant Kang, to do some last minute preparations for the RFA party. When several men entered the store they were browsing in, the bodyguards contacted me immediately and I rushed to the scene. I called her, of course. I wanted to hear for myself that she was safe, she was unharmed. I shudder when I remember her anxious voice…

“My love, I see the men, they are already in the store and they are coming closer…Do not worry, Jumin, the bodyguards have spotted the—ah, please sir, don’t touch me!”

They dared to touch her…my precious wife. I grew so agitated and restless, I wanted nothing more than to be beside her and introduce the stranger to my fist. God...I will make sure they know what a grave mistake they have made. Thankfully, Assistant Kang is knowledgeable in judo —she was able to defend herself and MC from the men before my men took the kidnappers away.

However, the fact still remains…I could have lost her today. Had it been a different friend with her…or had they pulled out a weapon…God forbid.

Sometimes…Sometimes I wish I could keep her locked up in the penthouse. It is the one place that is heavily guarded, extremely difficult to reach…a safe haven. She would be safe at home.

…yes, I do understand it sounds like I am…unhinged. Rest assured, I am perfectly fine. I simply prefer exercising control over matters. When she is out there…though she is protected…there are other variables I cannot control, cannot foresee. There are innumerable dangers the world poses to my beloved wife. She has become a valuable asset, because she is the queen to whom the king would willingly sacrifice himself for.

She is my everything.

One word from her lips and I am unraveled, I am bested. I am willing to do anything for her. Today, I learned what true fear was. Today, I felt like a boy once more…powerless. Trapped inside a vehicle, waiting for news…good or bad, I have no control. Today, I clasp her thread tighter in my hands…for I do not want to lose her. I can’t. She does not know how much she means to me. And I do not dare to keep her locked up inside a cage…though I desire it, her happiness is also my priority. I want to see her smiling, her radiant glow driving out the hollow emptiness in my soul.

Earlier this evening, I held her close to me, my fingers stroking her hair, wet from her bath. MC was clearly a bit shaken, and I sought to soothe her nerves, reassure her that she was safe. I pressed my lips to her head and spoke to her…

“You are home, my love. Nothing will hurt you here…you are safe.”

“Yes…I know that, Jumin. But I still got scared. If they had gotten me…they would have used me against you. And I never want anybody to use me to blackmail you, Jumin.”

Imagine my shock…my wife still thought of my well-being despite being put at risk. But none of that mattered.

“MC, you are the most precious person in the world to me. Please, I ask you to put yourself above anybody else, even me. Your safety and happiness always come first.”

“No…Jumin, you are my husband. To love and to cherish…I made that vow to you. I don’t care what happens to me…if you are well, if you are safe and happy then I am happy.”

I pull her closer to me then, burying my face in her hair.

“I do not deserve such a wonderful person like yourself, my love…But know that I am never letting you go. I love you, MC. I love you.”

And I meant every word.

A million thoughts ran through my mind as I rushed to her earlier…different outcomes, possible scenarios. I thank God that she came out of it unscathed, unharmed. However, fear remains gnawing at the corners of my mind and my heart. What if someone attempts to take her away from me again…?

No. I must study her security detail once more. In the morning, I will have her bodyguards re-evaluated; perhaps I should add more men to guard her.

Ah…my wife calls for me. It seems as though my thoughts have consumed me, I have lost track of time. It has gotten quite late and I want to be with her…to hold her close and cherish her. Rea her she is safe, and I will never let anything bad happen to her.

Because she is my love...my life.

My MC.

Until then, my old friend.

I would love to know what you think <3 I hope you liked it! ^^

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

I’d be honored to write your story <3

My patreon is quiet right now as I work on my original fics, but if you’d like to become a Patron and support me I will forever be thankful ;w;

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zrw · 4 years

Text

Letter 1.0.1

I'm writing this to you on Thanksgiving Day, it felt fitting despite us not celebrating it, so instead I will be wishing you a merry Christmas. A tad bit older photo added for depth, immersion and personalization while reading. None of it is scripted in any way, the idea is to make me emotional & it will all be written on the go. Make sure you read it all, and you will never hear from me again. Please do respect my terms also and do not under any circumstances share this letter or it's contents with anybody. Remember, only you will truly understand the context and true meaning of this letter. Quite likely it will change your whole perspective on me, but it won't matter anymore. If you think you're the bigger victim and believe you've had it worse than me & that you've suffered more and dealt with more... well, a bit of a free of charge reality check for you... you're dead wrong. I'm the one who is being tormented maniacally and brutally every other night, to the point where I simply don't know what's real and what's not. Scared of living life, kind of. It's clear to all I made a mistake last year. No weasely lies and fabrications in this letter, this is the Me you've longed to finally see. Anxiety through the roof, among other things/issues. I'm deeply sorry, Annie. Bless you & bless me, more importantly. Please tell me you forgive me. Do not dare to share any of the contents of this said letter with anybody, be a grown-up and act like one for once, you live all alone, now try and impress me, it's far too personal, a glimpse of me, and meant for you alone. Only you will understand the context of this letter. You're not exactly the golden carrot of the yield, but this one should be fairly easy to follow - Keep it to yourself, and stay quiet about this, I'm begging you. You're not legally obligated to do anything, this is your life and you make the rules, you're a good and kind gal, you're by no means a bloodthirsty vampire like some of them, and as I made very clear it wouldn't be fruitful & would shortly after turn into a proper clown fiesta, and possibly a meaningless waste of government resources. You wouldn't gain anything at all from this. I was going to say let me know if you need anything, and I'll gladly donate a fair sum to your PayPal, and it kind of made me realize that is something that would be morally and legally wrong of me to do, it wouldn't feel like a donation, it would almost feel like I'm trying to buy you and win you over, after causing this much pain to your heart, which I deeply regret. (I'll pay for your nsfw future cosplays maybe? Jkjk, leave that avenue to the twonks who'd actually find pleasure in doing that.) I don't donate much anyways online, if I'd donate it'd have to be an actual animal charity, I feel like when people think of charity they instantly think of like some Cancer Foundation or elderly/orphan fund, not that those are not fair causes, it's just that some dying/sick animals really need our support too, and they're just as worthy. After this i'm doing my own thing & staying away from you, promise. I'm a great citizen, mind my own business and never cause trouble. I just needed for my own sake to send something meaningful and pure your way. Everything that you will see here comes from the heart & I will do my best to be as honest as humanly possible. Whenever I begin working on these long 50,000 word essays I always tend to fear that I forget something crucial or run out of time, so let's hope it doesn't happen this time around. The writer usually spends 10 times the time and effort the reader does, so please do sit down, get comfy, and please read all of this letter. This is going on your SC and Tumblr & will be deleted once the timer on my stream deck reaches zero, you have a tendency to take photos and eventually show them to outsiders, this will ensure it's a one-off, and for your eyes only. It is mainly to apologize to you, among other things. To make you realize that in just 3 years time I'll be completely "reformed", as they say. If you must know "breaking the law" to say sorry could be considered as... noble, in most countries at least. Without a doubt in my mind they'd love for us to bury the hatchet and shake hands, but after this "letter" to you I am actually done with you altogether, and you'll not be hearing from me ever again... unless fate says otherwise. Do remember that this and me apologizing to you for being an awful male, this was mostly done so I can live, function and mentally function like a normal human being again, I will get to that later on in the letter, all you should know now is that it was more of a ME thing, and less of a YOU thing, if that makes sense. Needless to say I have 8 VPNs total with unlimited data running on all of my systems including 2 iPads, laptops, and even phones, to ensure that my IP is impossible to find and non-existent. Just a quick pitch, you could've used common sense to figure that one out yourself. Naturally somebody as wealthy as me would be untouchable, at least in the virtual world, where everything is simple and made easy. I am quite clever, yes, yes I am indeed. But I would not use it for evil deeds, deep inside I am a shockingly kind and nice guy. Oh, you were looking for a bad boy? We can talk, my dear, you know full well that I'd be/become anything for you. No candlelit dinners so I can compliment your cheekbones? You have kept your eyes open, and tonight your knowledge of me is getting greater and greater. You could write a book about us. It almost feels like deja-vu, I've been here studying and doing research on you, now I'm giving you the sheer opportunity to do the same. And 4 years after first talking to you online (in 2014), I, I touched your cat's black fluffy tail once, and catbug, she ran right away, it almost looked like she did a tiny leap forward before running. Yes, it was her 100%. I'm a shining star, just waiting to unlock my full potential, it will happen when the right time comes, you can never rush such things. My financial status would only indicate I have great things waiting for me and a brimming bright future ahead of me, should I play all my cards right, I do adore graveyards, but there is no reason at all why I should perish in the next 5-15 years. I can only hope that you're smart enough to not mention any of this to your mom, I realize you two are close, but being a grown-up means you know what to mention to somebody and what is better left unsaid. Wiser to let this one go and keep it to yourself, no need to waste government resources, and do understand that being fortunate and getting me potentially taken to a mental asylum for 3 weeks would not benefit you in the slightest, I've made it very clear that I don't associate myself with social outcasts, and we of course are done for good after this bit, so let's make it count. Being respectful is calling you a lady even though I full well know it's a girl in sheep's clothing I've been dealing with, hard to tame, always needs to have it her way, borderline blunt at times.. how come Annie the girl does not have a feminine soul, a bit odd, perhaps I do rest my case. You certainly are special, as your mom would say, she means you're not like the other girls. You're way different & not necessarily in a good way. Wanted you & Nora for the experience... Do find you both quite boring, even on the dating spectrum, she's the snappy one, you're the calm one. Will surely do better in the future. As far as I go... I'm your little ghost. I'm a spirit, roughly 500 years ago people like me were considered as and called witches, simply since we were ahead of our time. As you know there are good and bad spirits, I would stand somewhere in the middle as a classic inbetweener I've always been, casually swaying towards either or, but ultimately staying put in the middle. Some days I hate you, other days I love you... Yet here I am ending this "letter" to you with the words "I Love You", and perhaps "Muah" on top of that should I feel classy enough, as always, on the cheek, one final time. Do remember that I will always remain near you & overseer your doings, we don't need to interact, in fact it would be silly to think we can't co-exist in eachother's hearts. When you get the strange feeling that you can't find the explanation for, perhaps it's just me, and nothing more. It's been a sheer clown fiesta witnessing the names and things you've called me thus far. What's new, right? At the very least you don't take me for a joke anymore, which is wise of you, since I'm not. The casual 21st century term "stalker" simply insults me. Even somebody with as little intellect as you would know that stalkers are for years, spirits are for lifetime. I'm nothing less than a S-P-I-R-I-T, one with high capability & intellectual intelligence. I've never commented on your idiocy or your weird friends (90% of them are weird), I'm awfully passive and neutral. I've never insulted/talked-down-on the soyboys, e-slags, pre-mature losers, weebs, memers, or entitled punks you interact with every now and then. No point including the 16-21 year old boys and girls in that category, as I understand how these underage and barely of age children follow you, and you see yourself as their "mama" and friend, not strange in the slightest, not the harvest of living inside of a box for the majority of your life, when fantasy is taking over, sis. Those kids are the only community you have left... surely it would be cruel to let them off the hook, you can't let them go, some of them still see you as a role model! ~ I suppose you could say I'm on a whole different level, and people like me tend to not notice people who are "less". But good luck to them, perhaps some day they too will get themselves out of their holes and start moving towards things that actually matter. Speaking of which... God bless Great Britain if you actually end up scoring an actual decently paying job after all your studies. I would donate a fair few braincells to you... If I didn't have such a bright future ahead of me. In a universe where employers and companies actually did background checks on people before hiring, a silly bean like you would never score anything worthwhile. Personal assistant for a single individual would probably be your peak. Back to me... I am a millionaire, as you expected, seeing as how doors just open and close for me and my kind. I never worked even a day for what I have, but the people before me certainly did. Even more wealthy now in fact, as of last year, now that my professor and casual alcoholic of a grandpa is finally under ground, he was respected by many, but his lifestyle choices were hilariously fractured. See? We (are) similar, kind of. Ah, how I hate drinking and alcohol, I literally drink only twice a year and always feel guilty after, I hate people that consume alcohol in the spirit of the party at clubs or live concerts, and those who tend to constantly drown their sorrow and unhappiness into the bottle. I adore a good coffee and tea though. Living a promising life of luxury, hence the 3 years I will take to improve myself, improve my body to the maximum for the sex appeal and quality of life, get your name 'Annie' with a mini thorny rose underneath tattoo'd on my left arm, so I can take you to places and talk to you, enjoy your company & so I would never forget you (not that there is a chance in hell I'd actually ever do, of course, hahaha.), dye my hair pale/pastel color, purple in 2020, letting it heavily fade to soft pink, After that focus on the pastel spectrum of colors, re-do my driver's license, own a 40k car, but have not driven anything in 3-4 years, begin buying land and potentially own more land, farmhouses, households, countryside villas and mansions than some of the more wealthier businessmen in my area; as you can tell "owning" things & writing are two big passions of mine, the latter for expressing myself and influencing others, and so is real estate, country and marketing to an extent, legally change my first name to something sleek such as Jed, Jed Nei... or you know whatever else that feels unique and not-so-common; pick a powerful name that people will remember (and fear, jkjk), basically get my life on the line/on the rails and get a woman who will massage my strong pectorals with oil every Sunday morning only to ensure I will be more than ready to take on the next week. I adore romance, but still feel that death is the most romantic thing out there. Now of course she could cook for me just fine, but i'd actually really want to taste something you've cooked, as long as you do the cooking with just an apron on and absolutely nothing underneath. Oh Annie, unlocking your true potential would be a really easy task for me. You like cherry blossoms, I on the other hand like 400 year old oak trees. However our worlds could of collided & you could of been my sweetheart under the bright sun and moon. Currently own 2 countryside 2 floor homes and plenty of actual land around them, looking to expand in the future of course. Imagine leaving your silly big city life behind. Imagine laying there (on a hill) naked on the grass in the middle of the day, or relaxing in the bikini, depending how confident you are with your own body, and breast size, I also would not be totally satisfied if mine looked so "below average", but god does your bottom/bum make up for it. Loads of flowers that I can gather and give you, or put in your hair, plenty of forests nearby perfect for mushroom picking, hiking or picnics, loads of plants, fruit bushes, ponds, fruit trees, acorn trees ideal for climbing, farmland, greenhouse, ponds big enough for swimming, cyan blue skies large and wide enough for any balloon or kite you may want to play around with. Or if that’s not entirely your cup of tea then we can plan our big vacation to the Canary Islands in Spain, whatever you like, as long as you stay with me forever. You're a sweet creature and I'm certain we could of started something unique & exciting together, but that's all gone now, i'm still certain that I could of loved you right and shown you extreme passion, to go to bed with you and make you feel happy, loved & excited for the next day, our next day together in paradise. This is not a fantasy tale/dream, this could of potentially been our reality, assuming I would accomplish all my goals, and you willing to leave your current life for me. But why dwell on what could of been, I will never feed you fresh strawberries straight from the greenhouse, I will never "own" you, you will never be my girl, my companion, my life's purpose. I see now why I felt so heavily against friendship with you... being your friend considering the things I had planned for us, that would only lead to romance and love, that friendship would be over so quick you could not even call it one. Oh, and, I can be very sensual and passionate at times. And possibly start a IRL vlogging channel on Youtube in 3 years time, just to influence & motivate others and to portray my lifelong journey to greatness with the dozen obstacles I had to face and overcome along the way, making it all even more bittersweet, especially the main final goal, which if you can recall is to become the biggest standalone landowner/businessman in my area. Maybe you'll randomly stumble across the channel one day & wonder what could of been & what you missed out on, not only that but you'd also visually see the beautiful landscape and things I talked about earlier. Oh and I'll definitely purchase at least one or two more expensive cars, driving around with just one specific car all the time, obviously being somebody who clearly is able to afford another one, it feels kind of lame. P.S I've never ever actually been obsessed with you. You were just a girl I liked because of a few key factors/reasons. Plus we seemingly have dozens of things in common.And we have reached the part where I'll try and explain why writing this was needed for me, and my mentality; Are you a demon baby/girl? If not keep reading and don't even think about showing this letter to anybody else. If you are however... Come with me & with the assistance of our genitals let's try and produce a demon child. A bit NSFW, but we're 25 and nobody else is going to see this (Right? Good gal.), so I'd so-so-so take you raw on the floor in every single position imaginable, your front hole would naturally be so loose afterwards that no guy would want to or feel comfortable with doing it with you anymore. White stuff would go in both 'A' and 'V' holes several times to ensure pregnancy is triggered. Jeez, having and making a baby with you would be so unbelievably sexy. Anyways, back on the topic we go, so me and my issues I've been dealing it... I mentioned it at the start & will do it again... If you think you've been affected by this or you've had it worse/suffered more than me... Well think again. Ever since earlier this year I've had horrible anxiety, hearing unnatural beings and things talk to me and gradually hearing their voices around me. I don't think I'm losing my mind or going crazy, but this does all feel very real to me. Always closing my door at night, not even trying to, it just comes naturally to me to do it, much like a habit. I fell in a deep pit, and I'm so sorry to you, I really do apologize, my dear. My darling Annie. now my situation is being abused and i'm being taken advantage of by these demons/ghosts/shades, I'm now shaking for no reason, it's not even cold in here, it's awful. Psst, I'm not a monster. Imagine being too messed up mentally to go to the grocery store/supermarket alone & having to call your mom and tell her to bring you some food and supplies - telling her that the reason for it is that you have a massive headache right now & that you're unable to get out of bed. Yikes, that does sound bad. And to make it even worse, it has happened more than once. I feel like I need a 12-hour nap after sending this letter your way, feel a bit odd all of sudden, please read it all, it's a glimpse of me and my story and life. I can only hope that I will feel better and be able to go back to living my life like a normal human being now that I threw everything out there and apologized to you. I will leave you be now. It's a peek into my life essentially. I really do adore your tight little pale pink p*ssy, and Nora’s all the same, you gals are & stay important to me. Please do respect my terms and do not under any circumstances share this letter or it's contents with anybody. All the best to you and your family. I Love You. Muah. 💞

#YouCouldWriteABookAboutUs #101101101101101101101101101 #CodePalePink #EasterEggCity

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phroyd · 5 years

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Katharine Hayhoe is a professor and director of the Climate Science Center at Texas Tech University. She is a lead author on volumes one and two of the fourth national climate assessment. November 30

The Fourth National Climate Assessment — the work of 13 federal agencies and more than 350 scientists, including me — is clear: The Earth is warming faster than at any time in human history, and we’re the ones causing it. Climate change is already affecting people, and the more carbon we produce, the more dangerous the effects over the coming century. Nevertheless, many people continue to believe and propagate some misleading myths. Here are the five I hear most frequently.

MYTH NO. 1 Climate scientists are init for the money.

When the second volume of the National Climate Assessment was released on Nov. 23, Rick Santorum, a Republican former senator from Pennsylvania, took to CNN to proclaim that climate scientists “are driven by the money that they receive.” Former House majority leader Tom DeLay (R-Tex.) appeared on the network the next day declaring the report to be “made by scientists that get paid to further the politics of global warming.”

I was one of the report’s authors. How much did I earn for the hundreds of hours I spent on it? Nothing. Nearly every day, climate scientists are accused of venality. Our other purported sins include fabricating data, selling out to “big green” — which supposedly tethers our grant money to doom-and-gloom findings — and fanning the flames of hysteria to further our nefarious agenda.

The reality is that nearly every climate scientist could make at least the same amount of money — and often much more — in a different field, including the oil industry. And the money we do receive in grants doesn’t go into our pockets. A $1.1 million grant from the National Science Foundation provided me with a mere $37,000 a year, all of which went to paying for the proposed work, including a graduate researcher, a computer and publication fees. (In summer, I do some climate-focused consulting with cities and water districts to cover my salary when I’m not teaching.) Santorum, meanwhile, receives a substantial income from serving as a consultant to Consol Energy, a coal company; and according to OpenSecrets.org, DeLay has received nearly $740,000 from the oil and gas industry.

MYTH NO. 2 The climate has changed before. It's just a natural cycle.

Last fall, when the first volume of the National Climate Assessment was released, White House spokesman Raj Shah responded that “the climate has changed and is always changing.” President Trump himself has embraced this position,claiming that the climate “will change back again.” This line is a popular one with people who dismiss climate change by maintaining that we’ve had ice ages before, as well as warm periods, and so the warming we’re seeing now is just what the Earth has always done.

But we can look at the natural factors that affect the climate. First, over the past few decades, energy from the sun has been going down , not up, so if changes in the sun’s energy drove our temperature, we should be getting cooler, not warmer.

Others argue that we’re getting warmer because we’re recovering from the last ice age. But ice ages — and the warm periods in between — are caused by the Earth’s orbital cycles, and according to those cycles, the next event on our geologic calendar is another ice age, not more warming.

We can also rule out volcanoes, which do produce heat-trapping gases, but less than 1 percent of the CO2 that humans produce. And big eruptions, when they happen, cool the Earth instead of warming it. In other words, the climate change we’re experiencing now definitely isn’t natural.

MYTH NO. 3 Climate scientists are split on whether it's real.

We often hear that climate scientists are split 50-50 when it comes to whether global warming is occurring. “Each side has their scientists,” Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) told Politico in 2014. Trump echoed that rhetoric on “60 Minutes” this October, telling Lesley Stahl, “We have scientists that disagree” with human-caused global warming.

In reality, more than 97 percent of climate scientists agree thatglobal warming is happening and that humans are causing it. At least 18 scientific societies in the United States, from the American Geophysical Union to the American Medical Association, have issued official statements on climate change. And it’s been more than 50 years since U.S. scientists first raised the alarm about the dangers of climate change with the president — at the time, Lyndon B. Johnson. The public confusion has been manufactured by industry interests and ideologues to muddy the waters.

MYTH NO. 4 Climate change won't affect me.

We often think the most widespread myth is that the science isn’t real. But according to public opinion polls by the Yale Program on Climate Change Communication , the most prevalent misconception — one that the majority of us have bought into — is that climate change just doesn’t matter to us. While 70 percent of American adults agree that climate change is happening, only 40 percent of those surveyed believe it will harm them personally. Sure, it’ll hurt polar bears, and maybe people who live on low-lying islands in the South Pacific. But the world has warmed by just 1 degree Celsius, or 1.8 degrees Fahrenheit, since 1900. What’s the big deal?

Climate change is a threat multiplier that touches everything, from our health to our economy to our coasts to our infrastructure. It makes heat waves stronger, heavy precipitation events more frequent and hurricanes more intense, and it nearly doubles the area burned by wildfires . It supercharges natural disasters like Hurricane Harvey and the Camp Fire, as those suffering the effects of these events know firsthand. Climate change is no longer a distant issue in space or time: It’s affecting us, today, in the places where we live.

MYTH NO. 5 It's cold outside — global warming can't be real.

Whenever a cold snap brings out our winter parkas, there’s a politician or pundit saying, Global warming? Global cooling, more like! Trump has done so repeatedly, tweeting just before Thanksgiving, “Brutal and Extended Cold Blast could shatter ALL RECORDS — Whatever happened to Global Warming?” In 2015, Sen. James M. Inhofe (R-Okla.) brought a snowball to the Senate floor in an attempt to reject the reality of climate change.

But cold weather doesn’t rebut the data that shows the planet is warming over climate time scales. Think of it this way: Weather is like your mood, and climate is like your personality. Weather is what occurs in a certain place at a certain time. Climate is the long-term average of weather over decades. The fact it was cold and snowy one day last week? That’s weather. Global warming or not, cold days still occur, particularly in winter. But since 2000, we’re seeing far more new hot-temperature records than cold ones. In fact, in 2017, we saw more than 10,000 cold-temperature records broken at weather stations across the United States. And more than 36,000 high-temperature records were broken the same year.

Phroyd

#climate change

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Live: Mueller grilled on obstruction, ‘fishing’ without charging Trump

https://wapo.st/2Z4ThrU

Live: Mueller grilled on obstruction, ‘fishing’ without charging Trump (Updates Thus Far Part 1)

By Washington Post Staff | Published July 24 at 10:41 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted July 24, 2019 10:52 PM ET

This live story is being reported by Matt Zapotosky, Karoun Demirjian, Rachael Bade, Rosalind S. Helderman, Tom Hamburger, Shane Harris, Devlin Barrett, John Wagner and Rachel Weiner.

Former special counsel Robert S. Mueller III is testifying publicly before two separate congressional panels Wednesday and for the first time is addressing questions about his investigation of President Trump and Russian interference in the 2016 election.

The first hearing, before the House Judiciary Committee chaired by Rep. Jerrold Nadler (D-N.Y.), began just after

8:30 a.m., and the second, before the House Intelligence Committee, will begin at noon.

Democratic lawmakers are digging into the episodes Mueller outlined in his 448-page report of potential obstruction of justice by Trump. Mueller has said that he preferred not to say more about his work in public and — if made to do so — that he would not speak beyond what was detailed in his report.

Republicans, meanwhile, are likely to grill Mueller on what they view as impropriety in his investigation, focusing intensely on anti-Trump text messages exchanged by an FBI agent and an FBI lawyer who worked on the case.

Follow our live coverage here throughout the day.

10:30 a.m.: “I’m just going to leave it as it appears in the report”

Back from a break, Rep. Cedric L. Richmond (D-La.) tried to press Mueller on an episode in his report alleging that Trump had directed former White House Counsel Donald McGahn to have the special counsel fired, and then lie about it.

As he has throughout the hearing, Mueller merely confirmed that the lines that Richmond read were accurate.

“Correct,” he said repeatedly, as Richmond described the episode. “Generally true.”

Richmond tried to convince Mueller to elaborate, asking the open-ended question, “Can you explain what you meant there?” But Mueller balked.

“I’m just going to leave it as it appears in the report,” he said.

10:20 a.m.: Pence aides back Trump’s account of 2017 meeting with Mueller

Aides to Vice President Pence confirmed Trump’s account earlier Wednesday that Pence was present during a 2017 meeting in which Trump says Mueller sought to return to the job of FBI director.

Alyssa Farah, a spokeswoman for Pence, confirmed in an email that Pence was present for the meeting in the Oval Office “when Robert Mueller interviewed for the job of FBI Director in May of 2017.”

During his testimony Wednesday, Mueller confirmed that he met with Trump about the position of FBI director but “not as a candidate.”

Former White House chief strategist Stephen K. Bannon told investigators that the purpose of the meeting was not a job interview but to have Mueller “offer a perspective on the institution of the FBI,” according to the special counsel’s report.

Trump has previously cited the meeting as evidence for his contention that Mueller had conflicts of interest.

During a morning tweet, Trump suggested that Pence could back him up if Mueller did not tell the truth about the meeting

10:15 a.m.: The mysterious case of Joseph Mifsud

President Trump’s ally Rep. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) grilled Mueller Wednesday about Joseph Mifsud, the Maltese professor who told former Trump campaign aide George Papadopoulos that the Russians had dirt on Hillary Clinton — but lied to federal investigators and was never charged.

Mifsud’s information — which Papadopoulos later related to Australia’s then-ambassador to the United Kingdom, who alerted the FBI — prompted the entire investigation that formed the foundation for Mueller’s probe. Republicans have questioned those origins — but Jordan and others in the GOP have also specifically questioned whether Mifsud was a potential Western intelligence asset, set up to trick Papadopoulos into passing on information that would prompt the probe of Trump’s Russia ties.

The Mifsud theory has failed to catch on outside the Republican base, but Jordan focused his questions for Mueller on one simple aspect of it: Why, if the special counsel had charged so many of Trump’s associates for lying to the FBI, had he never brought charges against Mifsud, who lied repeatedly to federal agents and whose words launched the entire Russia probe?

“You can charge all kinds of people around the president with false statements … but the guy who puts this whole story in motion, you can’t charge him,” Jordan challenged Mueller.

“I’m not sure I agree with your characterizations,” retorted Mueller, who also said it was “obvious we can’t get into charging decisions” during the public hearing.

10:10 a.m.: Mueller continues one- or two-word responses to confirm obstruction episodes

Democrats — appearing to realize that Mueller would not elaborate on his report — continued to read key episodes of the 448-page documents and ask him to confirm the accounts with simple “yes” and “no” answers.

Rep. Karen Bass (D-Calif.) guided Mueller through an episode in his report in which Trump tried to convince his former White House counsel Donald McGahn to deny reports that Trump requested he fire Mueller.

In late January 2018, the New York Times reported that McGahn had threatened to resign the previous year rather than follow through on an order from Trump to fire Mueller. Muelller’s report describes how Trump pressured McGahn to deny the story, including in an Oval Office meeting, in which Trump asked if McGahn would “do a correction.” McGahn said that he would not.

Trump also asked then-aide Rob Porter to tell McGahn to “create a record” making it clear that Trump had never directed McGahn to fire Mueller. He told Porter that if McGahn didn’t write a letter to file on the issue, he might have to “get rid of him.”

There is “substantial evidence,” Mueller wrote in his report, that in repeatedly urging McGahn to dispute that he was ordered to have the special counsel fired, Trump was acting to try to influence McGahn’s account and prevent further scrutiny of Trump’s conduct with regards to the investigation.

Mueller, however, wouldn’t elaborate, confirming these details with simple answers, including “correct” or “yes.” Bass ended her five-minute session with her own statement: “If anyone else had ordered a witness to create a false record … that person would face criminal charges.”

10:05 a.m.: Roby pushes Mueller to explain interactions with the attorney general

Rep. Martha Roby (R-Ala.) asked Mueller to explain his interactions with Attorney General William P. Barr, whom Democrats have said mischaracterized the special counsel’s work.

She asked Mueller whether he had “sought to change the narrative” about his report when he signed a March letter to Barr complaining about the way the attorney general originally characterized his findings.

In that late March letter, Mueller expressed dissatisfaction to Barr about the attorney general’s initial four-page memo to Congress describing the principal conclusions of the investigation.

Mueller wrote that Barr’s memo “did not fully capture the context, nature and substance” of the work his staff had completed.

At a May hearing, Barr called Mueller’s letter “a bit snitty.”

Roby pushed Mueller to explain how his letter had leaked publicly and asked who wrote the document. “I can’t get into who wrote it,” Mueller said. “I will say the letter stands for itself.”

10 a.m.: Why did Trump want Mueller gone?

Democrats’ efforts to get Mueller to explain the motivations of the president fell flat Wednesday, even when it came to getting Mueller to repeat assertions his report made about precisely those questions.

“The most important question I have for you today is why: why did the president of the United States want you fired?” Rep. Ted Deutch (D-Fla.) asked Mueller, who said he couldn’t answer the question. So Deutch answered it for him, by citing a passage from the report in which Mueller wrote “substantial evidence indicates that the president’s attempts to remove the special counsel were linked to the special counsel’s oversight of investigations that involved the president’s conduct, and most immediately to reports that the president was being investigated for potential obstruction of justice.”

Deutch focused most closely on Trump’s contacts with former White House counsel Donald McGahn, a key witness in Mueller’s probe, who told investigators about how Trump appeared to order him to carry out Mueller’s termination, and later lie about it.

Deutch asked Mueller if McGahn understood what the president’s motivations were. Mueller referred him “toward what was written in the report, in terms of characterizing his feelings.”

9:57 a.m.: Mueller and Gohmert spar

Rep. Louis Gohmert (R-Tex.), an old nemesis of Mueller’s, spent his five minutes on the attack. First, he got Mueller to concede that he and fired former FBI director James B. Comey “were friends.” Then, he tried to suggest that the FBI investigation of the president was politically biased from the beginning.

As Gohmert’s tempo quickened and frequently cut off Mueller’s attempted answers, the former special counsel asked in frustration, “May I finish?”

Gohmert barreled forward, arguing that, rather than obstruct justice, Trump set out to defend himself from Trump-hating prosecutors and agents.

“What he’s doing is not obstructing justice. He is pursing justice and the fact that you ran it out two years means you perpetuated injustice,” Gohmert said.

Gohmert and Mueller have a history of antagonism. At a congressional hearing in 2013 when Mueller was FBI director, the congressman angrily accused the FBI of missing a key investigative step before the Boston Marathon bombing. Mueller, who generally takes a low-key approach to congressional hearings, got angry and denied the accusation.

[Transcript: Read Mueller’s testimony before the House Judiciary panel]

9:55 a.m.: Johnson: Diving into an obstruction episode

Rep. Hank C. Johnson (D-Ga.) has begun the Democrats’ strategy of asking sharp, tight questions to explore specific episodes of possible obstruction of justice described in Mueller’s report.

Johnson asked a series of “yes” and “no” questions about an episode described in the report in which Trump called McGahn, the White House counsel, twice at home over a weekend in June 2017 and directed him to get Deputy Attorney General Rod J. Rosenstein to fire Mueller.

“Mueller has to go,” McGahn recounted Trump told him, according to the report. “Call me back when you do it.”

Rather than following the order, McGahn drove to the White House to pack up his belongings and informed three other White House staffers he intended to resign. Ultimately, McGahn remained in his post, and Trump let the matter drop.

Mueller wrote in his report that “substantial evidence” existed that Trump’s efforts to remove Mueller were linked to the special counsel’s investigation of Trump’s conduct.

Parceling out those details, Mueller continually said Johnson had his facts “correct” or that he had “generally” followed the account of the report. But Mueller declined to be pushed even a bit beyond the exact words of the report. At one point, Johnson asked Mueller if he could explain the “significance” of the phone call Trump made to McGahn at home on a Saturday to discuss Mueller. “I’m going to ask you to rely on what we wrote in our report about that,” Mueller responded.

9:45 a.m.: Mueller declines to answer questions on Steele dossier’s origins

Mueller declined to answer a series of questions from Rep. Steve Chabot (R-Ohio) about the origins of the Steele dossier, the memos alleging various connections between members of the Trump campaign and the Russian government.

Mueller repeatedly said that the dossier and Fusion GPS, the U.S.-based investigation company that hired Christopher Steele, a former British intelligence officer, were “outside my purview,” and that the Justice Department was already investigating the dossier.

Republicans have seized on Steele’s research to argue that the FBI probe of the Trump campaign was begun improperly, saying that federal agents leaned too heavily on it when they sought a warrant to monitor the communications of former Trump campaign adviser Carter Page because of his contacts with Russians.

Republicans have also argued the Steele dossier was opposition research funded by the Hillary Clinton campaign. Clinton’s campaign did hire a law firm that hired Fusion GPS. Steele had begun his research earlier at the behest of conservative funders who wanted to compile opposition research about Trump.

9:40 a.m.: Democrats read portions of report themselves, as Mueller responds with short affirmations

Rep. Steve Cohen (D-Tenn.) sought to guide Mueller through one of the most explosive chapters of his report’s presentation of potential obstruction of justice — Trump’s appeals to then-attorney general Jeff Sessions to steer investigative scrutiny away from him — and was met with mostly one-word answers from Mueller.

Sessions recused himself from the government’s investigations of Russia and Trump before Mueller was appointed as special counsel, a decision that Trump tried to get him to undo, as documented in the report. Cohen attempted to sweep Mueller up in a dramatic retelling of the episodes, but the former special counsel’s preferred response was to simply tell him: “that’s in the report,” “I’ll refer you to the report for that,” or some variation.

The exchange illustrated what has been on display throughout the hearing: that for the most part, Mueller is offering sparse responses, and mostly leaving it to Democratic lawmakers to bring the words of his report to life in their own voices.

9:34 a.m.: Another Republican accuses Mueller of ‘fishing’ without charging Trump

Rep. F. James Sensenbrenner Jr. (R-Wis.), who once chaired the Judiciary panel, used his time to criticize Mueller for laying out hundreds of pages worth of investigative material on Trump without charging him with any crime.

Citing the second volume of Mueller’s report, in which Mueller said he decided not to make a traditionally prosecutorial judgment about whether Trump obstructed justice, Sensenbrenner asked why Mueller did the entire investigation when he knew he wasn’t ever going to prosecute Trump.

“The OLC opinion itself says that you can continue the investigation … even if you don’t indict the president,” Mueller responded, referring to Justice Department rules barring the prosecution of a sitting president.

“If you’re not going to indict the president, then you’re just going to continue fishing, that’s my opinion,” Sensenbrenner said.

Sensenbrenner grew visibly frustrated with Mueller when he had to repeat his questions several times. Sensenbrenner also probed why Mueller didn’t use the phrase “impeachable conduct” to describe any actions by Trump laid out in his report, particularly since he appeared to kick to Congress the determination of whether Trump obstructed justice. Mueller merely answered that wasn’t in his mandate.

9:25 a.m.: Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee launches questions on obstruction

Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Tex.) pushed Mueller on obstruction of justice, walking the former special counsel, through a series of rapid-fire questions about Volume II’s discussion of potential obstruction of justice, expected to be a recurrent theme of inquiry for Democrats.

In that second volume, Mueller’s team described 10 episodes in which Trump’s actions raised concern about potential obstruction of justice. In some of those cases, the special counsel indicated there was evidence to support key elements of an obstruction charge. But the report stopped short of making an assessment that Trump committed a crime. Democrats repeatedly said before the hearing that they planned to focus on those episodes.

While Jackson Lee’s questions were predictable, Mueller responded in a halting manner, repeatedly asking the Texas lawmaker to repeat her questions.

Her final query was whether conviction on an obstruction of justice charge warranted a significant amount of time in jail. “Yes,” Mueller responded.

9:20 a.m.: Ratcliffe: Mueller applied an “inverted burden of proof”

Rep. John Ratcliffe (R-Tex.) made a lengthy speech, accusing Mueller of inverting the American legal system’s traditional presumption of innocence by declaring in Volume II of his report that he was not recommending charging Trump with obstruction of justice but also could not exonerate him.

Ratcliffe questioned Mueller about whether a prosecutor had ever before found it be his role to conclusively determine a person’s innocence — as opposed to determining whether evidence existed that he committed a crime. Mueller said he could not think of another case and then quietly interjected, “This is a unique situation.”

Ratcliffe then jumped in to say that nowhere in Justice Department policies and standards or in the order appointing Mueller as special counsel could such a mission be found. The presumption of innocence, Ratcliffe said, “exists for everyone. Everyone is entitled to it — including the president.”

The congressman said Mueller had “applied this inverted burden of proof” and then wrote a report about it.

He noted that Democrats have said Trump is not above the law.

“He’s not,” Ratcliffe said. “But he damn sure shouldn’t be below the law, which is where Volume II of this report puts him.”

Mueller sat quietly and did not respond.

9:15 a.m. Mueller says Russians believed a Trump victory would benefit them

Under questioning from Rep. Zoe Lofgren (D-Calif.), Mueller said that the Russians did perceive that the victory of one presidential candidate would benefit them: “It would be Trump,” Mueller said.

The former special counsel also confirmed findings from his report that Trump campaign chairman Paul Manafort gave internal campaign information and polling data to an associate whom the FBI has assessed has ties to Russian intelligence.

But Mueller declined to discuss how that information might have assisted the Russians in their efforts to disrupt the campaign. “That’s a little bit out of our path,” Mueller said.

9:10 a.m.: Collusion, conspiracy or none of the above?

Rep. Douglas A. Collins, the panel’s ranking Republican, and Mueller got into a tense back-and-forth about a comparison of terms that has bedeviled the public chatter surrounding Mueller’s probe: if Mueller didn’t find Trump was guilty of a conspiracy, does that also mean he was exonerated of collusion?

Technically, collusion isn’t a specific crime, but in his report, Mueller acknowledged that in common parlance, “collusion is largely synonymous with conspiracy as that crime is set forth in the general federal conspiracy statute.” But when Collins asked him Wednesday if they were colloquially equivalent, Mueller said “No.”

Collins then repeatedly asked Mueller, “Are you contradicting your report,” repeatedly reading from the former special counsel’s text and asking if he needed to speak more slowly for Mueller to follow him.

“I leave it with the report,” Mueller ultimately said, prompting Collins to say he hoped the collusion question could “finally” be put to rest.

9:05 a.m.: Mueller pushes back on Trump’s ‘no collusion, no obstruction’ claim

Mueller rejected claims by Trump that his report cleared him from wrongdoing and confirmed that he could be charged after he leaves office.

In the first back-and-forth, Nadler, the committee chairman, listed a series of basic yes-or-no questions — or inquiries that could be answered in a few words — to get Mueller to confirm that he did not exonerate Trump.

“Did you actually totally exonerate the president?” the New York Democrat asked.

“No,” Mueller said.

“Does that say there was no obstruction?” Nadler said, reading an excerpt from the report where Mueller’s team discussed they could not “exonerate” Trump on the matter.

“No.”

Mueller went on to talk about Justice Department rules that say a sitting president cannot be indicted.

“The report did not conclude that he did not commit of obstruction of justice,” Nadler asked again.

“That is correct,” Mueller said.

The president has repeatedly claimed the report showed there was “no collusion” and “no obstruction.”

Asked if “under DOJ policy the president could be prosecuted for obstruction of justice crimes after he leaves office,” Mueller responded: “True.”

Mueller also confirmed that Trump refused to be interviewed by his team.

9 a.m.: Mueller makes clear his investigation did not exonerate the president

“The president was not exculpated for the acts that he allegedly committed,” the former special counsel told the House Judiciary Committee.

Asked whether the president could potentially be indicted after leaving office, Mueller responded, “True.”

8:55 a.m.: What Mueller stressed in his opening statement

In his opening statement, Mueller stressed three points: the special counsel’s investigation found “sweeping and systematic” Russian interference in the 2016 election, it did not establish a conspiracy between the Kremlin and the Trump campaign and its inquiry into obstruction was “of critical importance.”

In response to later questions, Mueller would say more explicitly, as his report did, that the investigation did not exonerate Trump on obstruction. But in his opening statement, he stopped short of even that.

“Finally, as described in Volume 2 of our report, we investigated a series of actions by the president toward the investigation,” Mueller said. “Based on Justice Department policy and principles of fairness, we decided we would not make a determination as to whether the president committed a crime. That was our decision then and it remains our decision today.”

8:50 a.m.: The topics Mueller says he won’t address

In his prepared opening statement, Mueller reiterated that he plans to stay “within the text” of his 448-page report and provided a list of questions he won’t be able to answer.

“In writing the report, we stated the results of our investigation with precision. We scrutinized every word,” Mueller said. “I do not intend to summarize or describe the results of our work in a different way in the course of my testimony today.”

Likely to the disappointment of Republicans, he said he would be “unable to address questions about the opening of the FBI’s Russia investigation, which occurred months before my appointment, or matters related to the so-called ‘Steele Dossier.’” Conservatives have focused much of their ire on that document — an opposition research product funded by the Clinton campaign that made lurid and unproven allegations against Trump and played a role in the early portion of the Russia investigation.

Likely to the dismay of Democrats, Mueller also said he would “not comment on the actions of the attorney general or of Congress.”

Mueller noted that court rules or judicial orders limit the disclosure of some information, and that the Justice Department had asserted “privileges concerning investigative information and decisions, ongoing matters within the Justice Department, and deliberations within our office.”

“These are Justice Department privileges that I will respect,” Mueller said.

8:45 a.m.: Republicans to question origins of Mueller report

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