#too many spells to keep track of I get overwhelmed easy

[imogenkol]

Trying to jump back into bg3 and commit to a durge Eddy playthrough. Made her a sorcerer even tho she’s a ranger specifically because I really liked the cunty little black sleeveless robe and also had to bump her cringefail stats so that the game is somewhat playable without sucking at literally everything important but it’s okay because her luck is horrible we be rollin shit anyway <3

#oc insp: Eddy #the universe has a way of balancing out #I also thought it would be fun to play as a sorcerer because it’s not really a class I ever wanted to play #too many spells to keep track of I get overwhelmed easy #but warlock helped me get used to it a bit #almost just made her a warlock because it would make sense for her character #and I originally picked ranger cause it was one of the simpler classes and I hadn’t played dnd before #I also miss my emotional support eldrich blasts #but a bitch has gotta mix it up a bit

[dmagedgoods]

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!

😭🙈🔥for Adrial,

and one for Sal 🌈

Adrial: 😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily? Oh, Adrial cries sometimes, indeed. It’s not a very regular occurrence, but it happens. In some cases, it kind of surprised/surprises him. To find out that he’s capable of such strong emotions …, that’s intriguing. And painful. Should he truly allow himself to be moved like this by someone’s fate? Or by his own fears/worries/hopes? It is … like something would try to break out of his chest, flood his veins. Those feelings are fascinating but terrible. And the pictures flashing through his mind without invitation, mixing with the emotions they cause … He is not sure he likes it. No, he doesn’t, not at all. Things that lead to him crying, well, strong fear can lead there, the overwhelming, all-consuming kind, and desperation when he finds himself in a hopeless situation. That he is able to show compassion becomes noticeable when art moves him to tears, a stage play, a well-written story, or even a special painting may cause this reaction in certain cases and in the right mood. It’s not easy to get close to him, he keeps people at distance (and often is kept at a distance by them as an answer to his behavior) but if he actually cares for someone, their pain and struggles and suffering definitely would have the potential to make him cry. 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people? I’m afraid I can’t answer this fully because parts of the answer to this question are too strongly connected to something still secret about him. 😁 Only that much: There is a side of him he doesn’t want to show, absolutely. And maybe, in leaving a part out, I’m able to add that he hates being seen when he’s truly afraid and weak. He doesn’t want to offer an opportunity to overpower him. To show vulnerability terrifies him deeply. 🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self? Adrial would say no. He cherishes life and his existence a lot and wants to enjoy it as long as possible and not shorten it by self-destructive behavior. Now the thing is, he doesn’t only want to enjoy it as long as possible, but also as intensely as possible. He cherishes delicious food, high-quality wines and liquors, and everything interesting and exciting, drinks a lot, tries dangerous magic, is captivated by the occult, and does drugs. His whole lifestyle has destructive tendencies but not out of indifference or the urge to harm himself or bitterness, quite the contrary: He’s greedy for life and experiences. Furthermore, Adrial often acts extremely arrogant, mocking, cold, and condescending. He has the habit to distance himself from people, even though a part of him yearns for true connection. Those are the main habits hindering him from becoming his best self. He needs to be close to reach a level of compassion and he didn’t yet allow himself to get there. ~ Salvadore: 🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self? “Find some kind of effective but very subtle tracking spell to place on Eneas’ belongings before the night he’ll leave.” “When Lisandro dares you to explore the empty water reservoir and get some of the berries growing there, say no.” “You will live through it, you are strong enough to succeed.” If he’s with Daeran already and found friends in the crusade: “Eneas is right with many of his lessons, but not with all of them. You are allowed to love and you don’t have to be lonely forever, I promise.”

#those were fun! #thank you so much! #adrial #knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #dmagedtexts

[trehontin]

birthdays were a bit of a strange beast- after enough time, dates, years, they all blended together and made the day more like any other, really. however, even with this thought, there were those she wished to celebrate all the same, in her own way- nothing grand or showy, (it wasn't her style as it were,) but something simply to say "i care about you". she approaches sōsuke, using one hand to mime covering her eyes before holding it out in front of her, trying to signal him to do the same. her other hand, hidden firmly behind her back, waits until he's sufficiently ready enough.

gently, she brings her other hand out, placing a small, almost electric-green mushroom in his open palm; the fungus is almost spectral in nature, a gentle thrum emanating from it. lips part as she smiles, clapping softly to let sōsuke know he could open his eyes again. "happy birthday, sōsuke- it's a reishi shinkin. it took me a long time to figure out how to properly cultivate them, but my kinshitai can create them now. it's a small fungus that grows by absorbing reishi; if you keep it with you, it can help you recover reiatsu by sharing the reishi its absorbed-" words grow rough as her throat begins to strain, explaining the last of it with sign. "it's a very small microcosm of kinshitai's bankai state, actually- i thought you might find it useful."

There were so very few who knew. Who he would allow to know. Who he would permit to have a deeper understanding of his whims when it came to things that should be normal; that should be - like now - celebrated in bright colours and exuberant tones, all drowned out towards nothing when only the lieutenant wouldn't will it. So rare it still was, deliberately seeking to wind himself out of people's congratulatory voices that mean little to nothing at all [ weren't they all just lying? ], till he had managed to loosen himself from his newest division's machinations, all meant and believed to be of desirable behaviour and a thanked favour. While it was not. 

A sigh was all he would exhale, when so far off and away from the discordant noise. It mattered little when he had excused himself from his Captain's side, received the raise of an eyebrow while doing so, but had ultimately been allowed to leave and find a place to rest. Being overwhelmed by the attention; had been Sousuke's reason for soon enough absence to shroud his presence, no matter how many voices would follow him and saddened gazes were pleading for him to stay, no - he just was 'tired' [ was that an excuse worthwhile? ]. 

" H'oh? " But she had found him easy enough. 

Had approached him with steps so quiet and light, that they would have been imperceptible, for everybody but him. Gestures known, learned, accepted, due to that the miming was enough to have him stop in his tracks and watch curiously, near juvenile in his behaviour to drown out what else would coat his whole person, grown too soon, that the striking difference in feelings alone could burn it all off and destroy it. Not now, when he would play her little game and follow the gestures mimicking them perfectly like a mirror image. Feeling a structure placed in his hand and opted out to listen, to experience, to analyse as per his nature, to not just cut it short in seconds. 

Being around Sasameki had given him small behavioural streaks that many might not even realise. One of them was to forsake one sense in favour of others, leaving his hands in place - one over his eyes, the other outstretched - for that littlest bit longer than probably need be [ and knowing her? would she not reach for him when it was that little spell played too long? would he not miss her getting up on her toes to even do so? ] before beholding a creation like only his companion was able to manifest.      

And how suddenly strained, near sombre his gaze had grown. Ah, he would need to be so careful to not destroy it--- " Beautiful. " Still was the first word he encountered in his mind spontaneously to figure out what it was he truly felt. There had been not a single 'gift' today given to him that had mattered, with little else meaning to say that the 5th had not tried its hardest to make this whole endeavour pleasant, pleasing for him. They had, it still was beyond what they could do. " I didn't think something like this was possible. " Says it in the short breath it took for the colour to shine ever brighter in his palm, for small roots to stretch, to unfold, to create themselves like out of nowhere if only for that small moment of faltered control in the awe he had been in. Not because of the item itself, no, because of how well she knew him. 

Thus Sousuke would let her see. 

That marvellous little moment of this tiny cosmos leeching off of him like he was the very fountain that would help it reach higher and higher, grow stronger and stronger, just for seconds, merely pulses it took for him until finding it enough and stopping the creation from overbearing itself. It was meant to grow slowly, no?

" Thank you. " As if nothing had just happened, when he could feel hands wrap around his wrist in stunned realisation that there was something else, but nought but that simple regard towards such a precious little treasure would follow. No, he just was like that [ was he not? ]. " I will probably see if I can nourish it myself, that would be interesting, no? " He leaves her hands, leaves her eyes, leaves her to grasp for him like this - never knowing when those things held dear, will be gone. " I asked my Captain for leave from the division, would you like to join me for tea? " As it could turn around and nearly burst like the glowing embers securely held in his palm. 

#jinjahime #☆ [ ic ] #[ sasameki needs a tag #THE NOISE I MADE #also don't ask me what i did here #hello welcome to his whole thought process about her #i fucking love them so much ] #☆ [ drabble ] #☆ [ verse ] the pendulum #[ put this like riiiight at the beginning when he joined the 5th as shinji's vice ]

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Revision.

Commissioned by the very lovely @pyrokittyowo.

Pairing: Yandere!Simeon/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Past Trauma, Toxic Relationships, Codependency, Infantilization, Isolation, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Gaslighting.

The sun never sets in the Celestial Realm.

It’s less whimsical than it sounds, to be fair. Sleep is a luxury for angels, a way to pass time for the young and the injured, but that hadn't been something Simeon thought to tell you when you first arrived, as you tried to follow his mangled, irregular cycle of rest and work. You’d gotten the hang of it with time, carved out your own routine and forced yourself to follow it, but you’d be lying if you said you were completely used to it. It was grating, if anything, just how bright all of it was, the shine only amplified by the ivory and gold angels seemed so fond of. It was overwhelming, really. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve called it unbearable.

But, you did know better. This realm was warm, but not stifling, not half as oppressive as the Devildom had been. It didn’t have the same constant chill, a pervasive darkness only made worse by the humid air and that invasive metallic scent, like stone and rock and the blood that must've been soaked into the cracks of both. The darkness was worse. All of it was worse, but you tried to keep your mind on the landscape, the starless sky, the bleakness you’d slowly grown to hate.

If you let yourself think about anything else, you’d have to think about the people you’d met, the brothers, the way they’d looked at you. You’d have to remember how tight Mammon’s grip had been, the first time he took you by the wrist rather than the hand, or how dull Beelzebub's fangs were and how much it hurt when he drove them into your skin, your chest, the sensitive area just below your collarbone that never failed to bleed, when it bit down. You’d have to think about how Lucifer’s hand felt as it wrapped around your neck, the sound of your own failing breath, the way he’d laughed as you—

You inhaled sharply, cutting yourself off before you could get any more lost in the memory.

Because that’s what it was – just a memory. Something you’d never have to worry about again, thanks to Simeon.

Still, you were allowed to complain. Even indoors, perched in one of the many bay windows spotted around Simeon’s sizable chambers, you could feel the unyielding sun, notice the light start to eat away at your vision like a hungry, gnawing parasite. There were clouds in the sky, perfect wisps of nothing, but they'd been their since the day you first arrived, fixed features on an unchanging canvas. They wouldn't move. You already knew that. Nothing moved in the Celestial Realm, not unless it had a reason to.

And yet, you found yourself opening your mouth regardless, asking the question that’d been playing on your tongue all day. You could let yourself have this. You could hope that were wrong. It wasn't like this would be the first time. “It doesn’t rain here, does it?”

Immediately, there was a hum from across the room, one of the many soft sounds Simeon seemed to be so fond of. You should’ve been glad he was there to answer at all, really. Simeon spent most of the day tending to his vague responsibilities. If he had time to sit around, pouring over a scroll in a language you couldn’t recognize, it must’ve meant it was either too early in the morning or too late at night for him to be bothered with anything else. You couldn’t be sure which, not when the two were so impossible to tell apart. “Rarely,” He replied, still distracted. “Michael tries not to leave the weather up to chance. If he needed a storm, I’d be able to tell you weeks in advance.”

You almost felt bad for him. You would’ve hated it, knowing everything long before it actually happened, but you doubted Simeon would ever let himself be so careless. “I don’t know how I’d stay sane,” You admitted, your gaze moving back to the window. A white dove had landed on the edge of Simeon’s windowsill, meticulously sorting through bleached feathers with its pointed beak, and idly, you wondered if the animals bothered to regulate themselves, too. “You wouldn't like my hometown. Couldn’t see the sky most days, and when you could, it was nearly too hot to go outside. Never stopped it from snowing a month before winter, though.” You paused, letting yourself smile at the thought. You missed it; you weren’t going to try to deny that. You were still allowed to miss things. “Luke would probably love it. Say what you want about humans, but we've never gotten a bakery wrong.”

Simeon didn’t hum, this time. The silence couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but your heart still found a way to tighten in your chest, stopping completely as you heard his chair scrape against the floor, sharp footsteps following the noise immediately. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and he was kind enough not to force you to, brushing off your avoidance as he positioned himself on the opposite side of your small shelter. It wasn't much of an improvement, though. If he'd just let himself be a little more cruel, you might've had the pleasure of hating him for it.

“You’re thinking about the human world again.”

He was getting straight to the point. You couldn’t say you weren’t thankful.

“How can I not?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strained, out of place against his sober expression. “I haven’t been home in a year. I’m bound to want to go back, eventually.”

“You know it’s not safe.” It was a familiar mantra, one you should’ve been numb to, but it still found a way to hurt, to linger, accumulate into a small, aching knot in the back of your throat as you reminded yourself that he was only doing it because he cared. That was all – he cared. He didn’t want to see you get hurt, not again. He didn’t want to see you face anything more harmful than his clumsy comfort, even if he did have a strange way of showing it. “We’ve talked about this before, (Y/n). It’s still too early to tell if Lucifer left any lasting damage. There could still be a tracking spell I haven’t discovered yet, or worse.” There was a pause, and a gloved hand came to rest on your knee. You could’ve mouthed the words, as he said them. “I can keep you safe here, but your world is neutral territory. I might not be able to stop him, if he and his brothers tried to take you away.”

You hated the way he said it. Part of you, a persistent minority, still wanted to think this was all a misunderstanding, a result of crossed wires and mixed messages and the kind of miscommunications that only ever led to such awful things. You knew it was unhealthy, to try to tint your own memories with such a forgiving light, but that didn't help you smother the temptation to believe all the soft, pleasant encouragements Asmodeus had whispered in your ear as his brothers lived out their distorted, carnal fantasies. Whatever Simeon was trying to do, it certainly wasn’t helping, either.

“I’ll be careful,” You tried, slouching against the glass. It was warm to the touch, a feeling you savored under his cold gaze. “It’d be a day trip, at most. Just a few hours. I…” He was wearing the silk gloves, today, soft and smooth as he raised his hand, cupping your cheek without a trace of hesitation. You trailed off instantly, still unused to the gentleness. “I just want to see my family, that’s all. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“You’re bored of me, now?” It was supposed to be playful, the question accompanied by a light chuckle, but you still shook your head, leaning into his palm as you went on. “I can’t say I blame you. I know I’m not one for company, but if you’re dying for entertainment, I can see what—”

“It’s not just that.” You should've let him finish, but it was already too late to stop yourself. You didn’t want to stop yourself, if you were being honest. You just wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere different, a place where the sky didn’t hurt to look at and the sun wasn’t so willing to punish you for existing. You wanted to be able to step outside without worrying whether or not your angelic hosts still thought you were worthy of their concern. You didn’t want this, anymore, even if it was the better option. “I’m just tired, Simeon. I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of running, and I just want to go home—”

There was a small huff, a sharp crack. By the time you realized what happed, by the time that sudden acidic sting faded into a steady throb, his thumb was already digging into your jaw, your head forcibly tilted back in such a way that made it so you had to look at him. You couldn’t avoid the softened anger in his eyes, or the stiffness in his posture, or that tight, unignorable scowl. He was disappointed, and he wanted you to know you were the reason why. He was mad at you, and you’d done everything to earn it.

When he spoke, he did so slowly. Like he was talking to a child who hadn’t quite come to terms with reality, just yet. “I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I?”

“You have.” There was no point trying to deny it. If it hadn’t been for Simeon, you’d still be rotting in that hellscape, subject to the whims of a family of monsters. He'd saved you. He'd helped you escape, and you had to be thankful for that. “I just don’t know if I can—”

“And you care about me, right? You don’t want to see me worry?”

You hesitated, but your answer was inevitable “Of course.”

“And you do remember the last thing Belphie said to you, don’t you? What he did to send you running to me?” He let himself smile, despite the nature of the question. “I could barely understand you back then, with the crying and all. Honestly, I almost didn't notice you were begging me to save you.” It was easy to forget how Simeon could be, when he knew he was right. Most of the time, his confidence was comforting, a gentle reminder that you could trust him, that you should trust him. Right now, it just made you feel weak. “What was it, again? C’mon, love, you can tell me, can’t you?”

You could. Objectively, you could, if you tried to. You could force your mouth to make the words, you could shut your eyes and let Simeon guide you through it, and you could tell yourself they were just memories, that you were somewhere else now, that you were somewhere better, but…

But, you really, really didn’t want to, and you couldn’t convince yourself you did.

If you did, you’d have to remember how tightly Belphegor had held your hand, as he said it, his fingers intertwined with yours and his grip strong enough to leave your palm bruised, after he pulled away. You’d have to think about the small smile he wore, the hatred in his half-lidded eyes, the chill that'd run down your spine as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder and told you that, if you ever tried to leave him, if he ever had to share you with anyone beyond the six exceptions he was already making, he’d kill you. It was as simple as that.

If he ever saw you again, he’d kill you.

You were safe, here. You were safe in the Celestial Realm, you were safe with Simeon, but you still found yourself choking on the words, your throat going dry as your shoulders pitched forward, a bolt of something frozen striking your chest before you could ward it off. You couldn't be sure why something so distant would make you cry, but you could feel it coming on – hot tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision, threatening to spill over and strip you of what little pride you had left, but Simeon only wiped them away, as doting as he always was. As loving as he always was, even when you took his patience for granted. Even when you hesitated to lean into him, as he pulled you into his chest, urging you to hide your face and treat him like the pillar of support he was so clearly trying to be. Even when you didn't deserve it, when you didn't deserve him, when you didn't deserve any of this, not when he was kind enough to pretend he didn't know that just as well as you.

“Poor little thing.” He was humming, now, his tone teetering on the line between carelessness and comfort. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, not in the moment, not when it was all you could do to muffle your hitched sobs into small, pathetic whimpers. “It’s nothing to blame yourself for. You just need a little help.” Another pause, elongated and purposeful. Sadistic, in only because he had to try so hard not to be. “You just need someone to protect you. It’s only human.”

It was all you could do to nod, to agree, as mindlessly as you were capable of. You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to risk remembering something you shouldn’t.

Instead, you just focused on the sunlight streaming the nearest window, how it felt as it hit you.

How, wherever your skin made contact with Simeon’s, it seemed to grow just a little more insufferable than it had been, a second ago.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenario #yandere commission #commission #writing commissions #yandere prompts #obey me #obey me imagines #yandere obey me #obey me simeon #yandere simeon #simeon x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere fantasy #yanderecore #yancore

[thegirlwhomoanedwolf]

Lust spell

Dark lord x reader

virgin reader does a sex spell after giving up on waiting for the dark lord... guess who shows up ;)

Warnings: 18+, hair pulling

(Y/n) sighed tapping a pen against her soft lips. She laid on her stomach books spread all around her large bed. Reading the page of the demonomicon again she tried to deeper understand its meaning. She wanted to know everything she could about magic and most importantly the dark lord. She was at the top of her class before she graduated from the academy of unseen arts and truly lived to make the dark lord proud. Realizing she wouldn’t learn anything else so exhausted from hours of reading and writing any new findings she moved from her bed grabbing her books placing them back on one of the many bookshelves in her candlelit room.

Deciding to get ready for bed she moved into her eclectic bathroom and began to fill the enormous claw foot tub with steaming hot water. She looked over to the cabinet of oils and dried herbs an idea coming to her mind. (Y/n) was beautiful and had the attention of everyone at the academy when she attended but none of them ever caught her eye. This didn’t mean she didn’t have desires like everyone else but she was saving herself for the dark lord. She knew it was unrealistic but if she had enough faith maybe he would listen. It had been years of thinking this way and pleasuring herself trying to keep the will power to wait for him. Her need was becoming too much. She needed real release.

Walking over to the wooden cabinet and grabbing handfuls of dried roses, baby’s breath and lavender she sprinkled them into the tub beginning to set her intention for the spell. Stripping her clothes she grabbed the most important part of the spell. The ornate glass bottle felt warm in her hand as she poured the oil over her chest. The feeling sent tingles through her body. The lust oil made her desire stronger than usual which would be necessary if she wanted the spell to work. After rubbing the oil all over (y/n) stepped into the tub fully submerging her glistening body.

After performing the spell she lay in the tub and prayed to the dark lord. (Y/n) continued to soak in the tub when a loud knock on her front door startled her. There was no way the spell worked that quickly she thought as she stepped out of the tub and threw on a black silk robe. Curious as to who was knocking on her door so late she opened it. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted her. The most gorgeous man she had ever seen towered above her practically nude. All he had was a small cloth tied around his waist and she realized he was covered in dirt. Maybe her spell had come true so soon.

“ Hello miss I hope I didn’t startle you, your house is the first one I’ve come across and I’m not sure how I got here,” the man spoke in a voice that was innocent yet pure sex. This was definitely the spell alright.

“Please come in,” (y/n) said as she stepped out of the doorway quickly. Lucifer came inside hiding his smile at how easy it was for him to lie to her and how for all her prayers and devotion she couldn’t tell it was him. Trying to be kind to the man (y/n) asked “ are you hungry?”

“ very,” Lucifer said as he looked over (y/n)s body the the meaning changed by the way he said it. “ I’m filthy though and would like to clean up first if possible?” He asked pretending to be a gentleman.

“ of course, I was actually just taking a bath and it’s still hot if you wouldn’t mind that.”

“ I can tell,” he said looking her over. Her skin was glowing from the oil on her body that was only covered by a small bath robe and he couldn’t wait to see what was underneath. “ a bath would be wonderful.” He followed her into the candlelit bathroom watching as she bent over to add more hot water.

“ I’ll leave this running so you can turn it off when it’s hot enough.” (Y/n) pressed her thighs together trying to stop the ache this beautiful man was creating.

She began to walk out of the bathroom looking back to shut the door behind her stopping in her tracks as the toned man removed the small piece of cloth his muscular ass fully on display. Paralyzed by his beauty she couldn’t look away. He turned slowly to step into the bath his large member now in view. ‘oh my satan,’ she thought biting her lip disappointed when he sunk down into the tub. Lucifer smirked hearing her prayer and looked over to her. “ Would you mind helping me with my back ?”

“I don’t mind ,”she responded breathily and grabbed a cloth walking over to the tub. Getting on her knees to be at the same level Lucifer thought of what he really wanted her to do on her knees and could feel himself begin to grow. “ (Y/n) dipped the cloth into the water then onto Lucifers back watching as the dirt wiped away easily. Sitting behind him she so badly wanted to run her fingers through his curly hair and decided to wash it as an excuse. Ringing the cloth in his hair she then added soap and began to lather it. As she massaged his scalp he let out a moan.

“ That feels incredible,” he moaned again causing butterflies in her stomach. (Y/n) continued wanting to please him in more ways than one. She grabbed the cloth again ready to rinse his hair but he slid under the water giving her a full view of his nakedness. ‘ oh my fucking satan’ she thought his member now fully erect and even bigger than she had seen before. Explicit images formed in her mind as he sat back up and turned to her, “ would you like to join me?”

( y/n)s heart beat in her chest knowing what was to come. He motioned to the tub and she slowly stood silently accepting his offer. She was ready to completely give herself to him. Standing at the edge of the tub she looked down at him biting her lip. He moved to the edge his fingers on the silk bow of her robe pulling and slowly undoing it. ( y/n) let the robe fall off of her and saw the desire in his eyes. Lucifer ran a finger over her nipple enjoying the small tremble it caused her. He held out his strong hand helping her step into the tub her back toward him. She sat turned away from him leaving enough distance so that they weren’t yet touching.

Lucifer moved his arms around her pulling her back against his chest. (Y/n) gasped now feeling his large member against her back. “ relax,” he whispered softly and she let the tension leave her body. Lucifer moved his hands to her thighs rubbing them and began to move even higher up. He moved his mouth to her neck kissing below her ear. “ so beautiful.” His hand traveled to her clit keeping still as she moaned softly at the sensation. “ no one has touched you here before me.” He stated.

“ no,” (y/n) replied thinking it was a question.

“ I will give you pleasure no other could,” He whispered as he began to rub her clit.

“ oh yes,” (y/n) softly moaned, his fingers doing magic against her most intimate spot. Lucifer kissed her neck and shoulder loving the reactions he was pulling from her body. He could feel her tensing slightly and knew the pleasure was going to overtake her soon. He moved his other hand to her opening teasing her folds with a finger.

“ I wish to be inside you so badly,” he slowly thrust a finger inside his eyes rolling at her tightness. He worked her with his finger the other hand circling her clit. (Y/n)s walls were starting to flutter around his finger so close to letting go. “I wish to feel you shake around my cock giving in to the pleasure.” She began to shake almost there, “ give in (y/n) .” With that her orgasm ripped through her. A shriek left her lips and Lucifer smiled excited to see how she would react to his member.

( y/n) lay back against Lucifers chest breathing heavily coming down from her orgasm. The cloudiness from her mind disappearing a realization hit her and she tensed nervous this time. “ how did you know my name ?”

“ I know all my children’s names (y/n).” He turned her face to look up at him the shock was evident on her face. “ You are very special though, I wouldn’t just leave hell for anyone. How sweet you were planning to wait for me.”

She looked up at his beautiful face still in shock, “ dark lord I’m so sorry... I .”

“ Do not apologize,” he said sternly interrupting her. Lucifer looked deep into her (y/e/c) eyes filled with worry, “ show me you still have faith,” he said sweetly and seductively. Just like that the worry of upsetting him was gone and (y/n) knew how to prove her loyalty. Adjusting herself quickly in the tub she pressed her lips to his her hand wrapping in his hair for balance. Lucifer wrapped his strong arms around her possessively pulling her as close to him as possible while exploring her soft mouth. Now that she was seated above him he leaned forward and wrapped her legs around his waist holding her tightly as he lifted them from the water. He continued to kiss her as he carried them out of the tub and into the hallway. She squirmed in his arms desperate for more bringing out the beast in him. Moving to her bedroom quickly he kicked the door open and laid her down on her overly cushioned bed hovering above her.

“ please dark lord,” she whimpered as he moved to kiss her neck and chest. Years of waiting and she was so close yet so far. Reaching down between them she wrapped her small hand around him causing him to pin her hands to the bed quickly. (Y/n) looked up at him her chest heaving as she watched his gaze travel over her body. Her need for him was overwhelming, “ I need you so bad it hurts.”

With that he let go of her hands and they wrapped around his back as he leaned down and kissed her gently. He grabbed his large member in his hand lining it up with her glistening opening. (Y/n) gasped at the feel of his skin against hers as he ran his tip up and down her folds teasing her. ‘ oh dark lord please I can’t take it anymore I need you’ she prayed knowing he would hear. He pulled his lips away from hers and she looked at his angelic face as he softly spoke “ I will show you mercy.” He sunk into her forcefully causing her to cry out his large member stretching her more than she thought she could handle.

Lucifers fingers found her clit caressing it roughly as he thrusted again slowly this time filling her completely. The added sensation on her clit made her eyes roll in her head. The pleasure was too much but she didn’t want it to stop.

“ yes dark lord!” She exclaimed encouraging him even more. “ you feel amazing.”

Her words stroked his ego as her pussy stroked his cock. “ you are hell on earth (y/n),” he grunted as she tightened around him even more. He thrusted slow and hard reveling in her. He looked down at where they were connected and watched as her folds gripped him tightly bringing him close to release. Lucifer began to rub her faster his thrusts picking up pace along with her moans. (Y/n)s legs began to tremble and he looked down at her in awe of her beauty. “Cum for me little witch.”

An earth shattering orgasm overtook her body and soul. She never wanted it to end and it seemed like it wasn’t going to. Lucifer groaned as her walls began to milk him and he thrusted into her prolonging both of their orgasms even further.

He laid on top of her still enveloped by her and kissed her cheek sweetly. “ That alone was worth being kicked out of heaven”

(y/n) blushed not expecting his kindness and worriedly asked, “ will you be going back to hell now?”

“ of course I’m the king,” he said arrogantly. Caressing her bottom lip and kissing her Lucifer pulled away and added “ would you like to be a queen (y/n)?”

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caos imagine #caos netflix #caos fanfiction #caos smut #chilling adventures of Sabrina smut #chilling adventures of Sabrina imagine #Lucifer imagine #Lucifer smut #dark lord smut #dark lord imagine #Lucifer Morningstar smut #chilling adventures of Sabrina fan fiction #lucifer x reader #dark lord x reader

[ordinaryschmuck]

More of Luz is More to Love

Me and my buddy @l-egionaire write a lot of weird stuff together. The following is a fun scenerio that I just had to share with you

But just so you know, it gets LOOOOOOOOONG.

(l-egionaire) Here's an idea: Amity tries to train herself to not be all flustered and jelly legged from Luz showing her affection. It goes.....not great for her.

(Me) I picture her doing this with a Luz-shaped abomination

(l-egionaire) Go on.

Luz-ination: Grumbles and mumbles a compliment. 

 Amity: Oh, Luz. How nice of you to notice. 

Luz-ination: Bubbles 

Amity: You really do have a way with words.

(l-egionaire) Unfortunately, even the abomination Luz ends up fluttering her.

Luz-ination: Mumbles and gurgles. 

Amity: That's, uh, wow. I, uh, didn't know you thought that way...

Luz-ination: Braah!

Amity: I-uh-wow-um.

(Me) It'd get worse if the Luz-ination actually fell in love with Amity.

(l-egionaire) And it doesn't dissipated. So it just follows her everywhere and tries to hug and kiss her

Luz: You're new abomination...Looks friendly...and also familiar. Amity: Yeah! How funny is that?!

(l-egionaire) Eventually Amity's forced to admit the truth.

Amity: So, um, I was sort of using this abomination that looks like you--Luz-ination--to...practice not getting flustered.

Luz: And how did that turn out?

Amity: Not great. Not only does she make me flustered anyway, but she also fell in love with me.

Luz: What?!

Amity: I know. I'm sorry-

Luz: No one makes a move on my girl!

Amity: What?

Luz-ination: *Gurgles a threat*

Luz: Oh, yeah? Bring it!

The two start to Brawl.

Amity:.......Huh.

Willow: You're enjoying this, aren't you?

Amity: Maybe a little bit. But is that so--

Willow: Yes...it's incredibly wrong.

(l-egionaire) Of course Luz emerges the Victor.

Amity: Sorry about the whole...making a copy of you thing.

Luz: Eh. It's the weirdest magical clone thing I've ever dealt with. But I'm glad she's gone.

Amity: Me too. I only need one Luz.

Luz: Amity, no offense, but I don't think you could handle if there were two of me

Amity: ...Yeah, you're right.

(l-egionaire) Related to that, one day, while playing against each other in a friendly grudgeby game with Willow on one side and Amity on the other, Willow pulls a trick.

Willow: Sorry in advance for this!

She makes a spell circle and creates a bunch of Luz illusion clones around Amity.

Willow: Little trick Gus taught me.

Amity immediately flushes.

Amity: This-this isn't going to work Willow.

Willow: Oh really?

She waves a hand and immediately all the Luz clones come up and start complimenting Amity.

Amity: I-this wont-

Luz #1: I love your eyes!

Luz #2: Your hair is soft to the touch.

Luz #3: I hope to marry you one day.

Luz #4: Can I kiss you?

Luz #5: Can I kiss you?

Luz #6: You're so adorable.

Luz #7: I'm lucky to have a girlfriend like you.

Amity trembles, overwhelmed by the barrage of Luz. 

Willow: Just one more push. 

She makes another spell circle and the Luz's closest to Amity all kiss her on the cheek.

(Me)And Amity faints because of it.

(l-egionaire)Yep.

(Me) Afterwards 

Amity: TEACH ME HOW TO MAKE ILLUSIONS!

Ed and Em: ...Alright.

Em: Wait. Illusions of what? You need to be specific when making them you know.

Amity: ...A person

Em:.....Its Luz isn't it?

Amity: ....Yes.

(l-egionaire)You go on.

Em: And you don't think that making clones of your girlfriend is a little creepy. 

 Amity: She didn't mind the first one. 

Em: 

Amity: Don't ask.

Em: Why exactly do you need Luz Clones? You can barely handle the real one you have.

Amity: ...more of her makes me feel special...

Em:.......

Amity: You weren't me when Willow sent a barrage of Luz clones upon me! You don't know what it's like!

Em:...........

Amity: Are you going to teach me or not!?

Em:......I'm going to say no. I don't know if you should be using illusion magic for something that...

Amity: I'll tell you three embarrassing secrets from my diary

Em: Ten

Amity: Five

Em: Ten

Amity: SEVEN!

Em: ...Alright, I'll teach you. 

(l-egionaire) So what does Amity do with this newfound knowledge.

(Me)Recreate what happened at the grudgby field, for one

(l-egionaire)A crowd of Luz's all complimenting her? 

Amity: I'm in heaven. 

(Me) I'd imagine that it actually does get her use to Luz's compliments and affection. One Luz is pretty tame to ten

(l-egionaireIt) would be violently embarrassing to her if Luz walked in on this though.

Luz:

Amity:

Luz #13: Hi, I'm Luz.

Luz #17: So am I.

Luz #25: And me.

Luz #4: What's your name?

Luz: ....Amity?

Amity: I can explain.

Luz: Okay

Luz: Could you also explain the outfits?

Amity looks around at her Luzs wearing cheerleaders' outfits while she's in her grudgby uniform.

Amity: ...I was trying to recreate something.

Luz:......?

Amity: ...I just wanted to stop being flustered around you, so I've surrounded myself with...you.

Luz #17: The wasn't the only reason.

Amity: Shh! Quiet #17.

Luz: A) what was the other reason? B)....You gave them numbers?

Amity: It was easy to keep track of them.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Luz: What was the other reason?

Amity: ....>Mumbles something<

Luz: What?

Amity: I said I like having more of you!

Luz:......Oh.

she blushes.

Luz: You, uh, you really like me, huh.

Luz #23: Obviously she does, dumb-dumb.

Amity: #23! Sorry, she's a straight shooter.

Luz #23: And her favorite.

Amity: That's not true. That is not true!

Luz smiles. She turns to the crowd of Luz's

Luz: Well girls....thanks for helping with her issue I guess. And for....giving her extra me time.

Luz #8: No problem #1!

Luz: ...I'm not a clone.

Luz #28: No, but she always said you were her #1 Luz

Luz smirks

Luz: Oh really?

Amity blushes and rubs the back of her head.

Amity: Thanks a lot #28

Luz: Ok, I have to ask, how can you tell the difference?

(l-egionaire) You go on.

Amity: They've grown their own personalities.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Amity: Who also only says one sentence.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Luz: Aww. She's like a big action figure.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Amity: She said thank you.

Luz: Still....to be your number #1 Luz even with all these other ones... 

Amity: You'll always be number one to me

Luzs: Aw...

Luz #5: Gross!

Amity: Ignore her. She's the grumpy one.

Amity: So...you're not mad?

Luz: Of course not! I get why you did this. Besides, its kind of sweet you'd still love me even if I was a crowd. Though I am surprised you could handle this many of me.

Amity: Eh. It got easier over time...It got easier over time. Haha! I don't get flustered from you anymore!

Luz: Oh really?

Luz calls to the other Luz's and they all huddle and whisper to each other. Then they all form a circle around Amity and each Luz, including the real one, comes forward and kisses Amity.

Amity's face is completely red.

Luz: Still not so flustered?

Amity:

Luz: ...Amity?

Amity falls face forward.

Luz: Amity!

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

(And believe me when I say that this isn’t even the weirdest thing we’ve made.

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #emira blight #willow park

[generalobi]

Hi, if you're still interested in prompts would you consider writing Codywan with one of them being under some kind of truth spell/truth serum and the other being really supportive? (thanks in advance in case you decide to write it!)

When Cody woke up this morning, he did not expect his day to go like this. Considering the 212th track record, maybe he should’ve.

It doesn’t matter now, because expecting it or not, Cody is still dragging High General Kenobi across half a planet while said General is drugged to the gills. With truth serum. In the rain. At least they’re not captured anymore, but it doesn’t feel like much of a consolation when Obi-Wan can’t even walk.

“Your eyes are very nice,” he frowns, flopping his head back to stare at Cody’s face, “Has anyone told you your eyes are nice?”

“Yes, sir,” Cody says, “I think this is a good place to stop. We can work on getting a message to camp from here.”

Good is maybe stretching it. It’s one of many almost caves on Gyphti, next to a shallow stream and far enough from the city for Cody to feel comfortable stopping. And it’s getting dark now, and there’s no point stumbling about in the night.

He sets the General against the wall and sets about making a fire. Cody’s armour is mostly waterproof but Obi-Wan is soaked and it’s only getting colder.

“Your butts nice too,” Obi-Wan says.

Cody nearly chokes, “You’re not usually so forward.”

“Am I not allowed to tell my husband his butt looks nice?” 

“It’s a good thing we’re alone, cyare,” Cody shakes his head fondly.

Obi-Wan hums, “Anakin would have a stroke. He’s always thought he was slick. He used to sneak out to go to pod races when he was a teenager. He never did realise I followed him every time. He’s a bit stupid sometimes.”

He very carefully does not laugh, because it is General Skywalker they’re talking about, but it’s not easy.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan continues, “He also thinks I’m celibate. And forbidden from having emotions. He used to sleep in my bed, you know? When he had nightmares. We used to cuddle until he fell back asleep, and in the mornings we’d talk about the nightmares. He could never get to sleep if I didn’t hug him goodnight and tuck him in. It seems he doesn’t remember any of that now.”

“Children,” Cody offers sagely, as though he has any idea what he’s talking about.

He sits next to his husband, who stares pensively into the fire. The cave is mostly dry, but the cold is pervasive. If they don’t get rescued soon, it’s going to be a long night.

“So,” Cody says finally, “Truth serum?”

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan closes his eyes, “It makes it very difficult to lie, but mostly it just makes me very talkative. I learnt as a padawan that if you overwhelm them with information then they won’t get a chance to ask their questions at all. And if they don’t ask, you can’t answer. It really is good Anakin isn’t here.”

Because his husband is in a vulnerable postion, Cody doesn’t ask about the being drugged as a padawan thing. If Obi-Wan wants to tell him, then he will. When he’s capable of deciding that.

“General Skywalker would be... less than amused.”

“Oh, no doubt,” he slides down until his head is resting on the cold plastiod of Cody’s armour, “Do you think he suspects us? It’s not like we’re keeping it secret.”

“Rex says he just thinks we’re friends.”

Obi-Wan sighs, “Well, I suppose he thinks I kiss all my friends.”

Cody kisses his hair, filthy though it is, “Didn’t you once kiss Vos in front of him?”

“Yes, and Mace. Though I don’t think he remembers the second one. It was rather a busy moment. And he was twelve at the time.”

“I can’t imagine Skywalker as a cadet.”

“He wasn’t so different to now,” Obi-Wan laughs fondly, “He blew things up, pulled pranks and slacked on his homework. And he’s always been obsessed with mechanics. I think the loss of his arm would’ve hit him a lot harder if not for that.”

He yawns suddenly, “T-this is the part I hate. I’m going to pass out soon, sorry Cody.”

“That’s alright, General, I’ll keep watch.”

¬

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

“For what love?”

“For not pushing, when I had not choice but to answer. I really... appreciate that.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Cody says firmly, wrapping his husband in his arms, “Never thank me for that.”

#codywan #truth #cody #cc-2224 #obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #star wars prequels #star wars #prompts #I hope this was what you wanted #sorry its not very good #i wrote this in an hour #star wars fanfic #fanfic #clone wars #star wars the clone wars

[microbiologynerdd]

Notion - BASIC and EASY Note taking system FOR STUDENTS

Hello everyone!

I hope you are well!

For this weeks #Microbiologynerddweeklytips post, I shall be sharing my university note taking and organisation system using Notion.

I have been using Notion for roughly 1 year, and have used it to organise my second year university studies, in addition to my voluntary position as the VP of my society.

So below is a very BASIC and EASY to use format you could adapt for yourselves! Enjoy😊

Contents

As a directory to everything I need at university, I have a contents page. Here I have each of my modules, as though they were chapters of a book. Each leading to a separate page of their own.

After this I have the required ‘modules’ for my placement year. I have arranged this slightly differently to my regular university notes - more details on this later.

Below this you can find pages for my summer microtalks hosted by SFAM. I attend these weekly and make notes in that subsection.

And finally I have a section for Taekwondo, to organise tasks I have to complete as the VP of Taekwondo.

Module pages:

So i have tested 2 different methods for module layout, each only having a slight twist.

- Please click the photos to enlarge -

In the photos above, I visualise the 2 different systems. Each of the systems involves having a new cell per lecture. However, in the first 2 photos (from left to right) I have separate pages for my lectures vs my lab notes. Whereas on the right, I have my lectures, labs, extra reading and questions all formulated into one table. Clicking the See All button at the top left of the table, above the search bar, you can choose to view classes by type i.e. just see my lectures or just see my lab notes for example.

The second system I have found works best, otherwise you are just clicking too many buttons to get to the area you need. However, in future I shall implement the ‘breadcrumb’ at the top the page, like i did with the first and second photos. (Breadcrumb = univeristy/ BMS2037:cellu../lecture below the page titles). Breadcrumbs make it easier to shift between pages instead of clicking the back button all the time. They are essientally hyperlinks to other pages.

Tip: to insert a breadcrumb simply put /breadcrumb and a breadcrumb will appear. This works for anything you are trying to insert e.g. a table

You can also choose to insert materials e.g. any lecture slides or resources you used within that lecture. Personally I dont find this helpful, as our VLE is clearly laid out with our lectures. But it might be something worth trying, as you can also insert pictures or any sort of media you require.

I also use the tick box function to keep track of whether I have written the lecture into Anki cards (flashcards)/ attended the lecture.

Side note: Please ignore my spelling/ how I label lectures, they make sense to me, they dont need to be 100% correct - right?

Internship/Placement Page:

I have recently been dabbling in the layout I would like to use for my internship year, however, I shall update you at a later date with any additional details, as due to COVID-19 the formate of the year and my assessments has changed. I also will find out more when I start my internship... which is soon - yay!

I’ve decided to have reminders at the top, which I inserted using /callout - you can change the emoji to anything you would like. This is for me to know instantly any important documents or tasks that I need to complete.

The external work to that provided by my internship is included in the table. This is essientally the coursework I have to complete on the side of the placement. Here i decided to note the deadlines and percentage of the year that it is worth. This is just to help me grasp the format of this year, since as mentioned above, it is slightly different.

Underneath this I have a selection of details to do with the company. This includes my acceptance letter and any insurance forms I need to send off. I just wanted to have them at hand so i can reference them at any time.

Summer 2020/Taekwondo pages:

These pages I format the same as the ‘Module’ Pages, so I haven’t included any pictures etc.

Miscellaneous things:

- NOTION IS FREE FOR STUDENTS - if you have an educational email, you can sign up for free! If not, packages start at $4 a month, which isn’t too bad for something you use frequently!

- This service is avaliable on tablets and computers, so anyone can take advantage of this organisational software!

- You can change the cover and icon at the top of each page. They include emojis and a standard image database, but you can also upload your own unique images if you desire.

- There are also template designs for pages, with different themes for different needs. So if you don’t want to start one from scratch you have lots of options to choose from. Use those as a base and edit them from there! For example, there are calendars, habit trackers, resume trackers and whole load of other things.

- Using a device for notes, such as notion, allows you access to any notes you have made at ease. It is organised, and you are unlikely to lose your notes. Paper is great until you scrunch up that important sheet, or it rains and the paper gets wet, or you are carrying every single note you have ever made - that can become heavy. Just something to bear in mind, especially if you can afford a laptop/ note taking device of some kind.

- You can create multiple pages for different aspects of your life (photo below). For example I have 2 additional pages, 1 for personal things and another for blog post ideas - to keep you guys entertained... haha! 😆

Conclusion :

What I have shared here is a very BASIC overview of how I use notion. If you desire a detailed in depth report of how notion works, it might be worth checking out Ali Abdaal, who can give you this information. As for me and what I require from the service, Notion has been working really well, keeping me organised with all my notes in one area. Knowing what I am doing, when, and being able to keep up with the speed of lectures - considering my writing speed is questionable. 😂

When you first download notion and look at all the templates, it can be a bit overwhelming/ exciting. Start with what you need, and then explore new ideas that you want to incorporate. There is no point setting up hundreds of pages if you aren’t going to use them, just like writing out pretty notes doesnt help you learn content - but more about that in a future post. Start small, being organised involves consistency, you can’t be consistent if you have given yourself too many things to do daily. Or at least you are unlikely to be.

One word of warning, Notion is not compatible with the Apple Pencil, so if you like writing notes on your iPad, this may not be the best software for you. As well as this, if you are a faster writer than you are typer, DO NOT USE NOTION. The whole basis of this app or at least how I use it, is to stay organised and write notes productively and efficiently. If you prefer writing, keep at it! Don’t just switch because suddenly you hear lots of tapping on keyboards in the lecture theatre.

Play to YOUR STRENGTHS , enhance what you are good at, not what everyone else is doing. As always, you’ve got this 💪

Let me know if you have any questions, or whether you’d like any further posts/details about my notion workflow. I’m happy to answer any queries you have.

Speak soon,

Lucinda x

#microbiologynerddweeklytips #new studyblr #newstudyblr #studyblr #student #studyspo #motivation #notion #note taking #organization #microbiology #bioscience #summer2020 #summer studying #student advice #study tips #student to student #top tips #student blog #workflow #efficent learning #university

[neighborhoodparker]

Book: Cacoethes

Word count: 2,244

Summary: Draco finds Isobel after the war. But it’s too late.

Drabble, Cut Scene, or Request: Cut Scene; was once another short ending option to Cacoethes.

The battle was raging across the Hogwarts ground. She tried not to pay attention to those around her that had fallen - tried to ignore the various shades of house colors laid across the lifeless victims. It looked wrong, beyond wrong, to see fellow students splayed out across the ground, to see them lying mangled, broken, dead on what was once their home grounds. Her heart ached and her lungs burned at the thought of all who she would never get to see again.

She shoved the thoughts down and rearranged her grip on her wand, forcing her tense body to relax - just a tiny bit. She was doing all she could. It was overwhelming, jumping and dancing and bouncing from one stand off to another. She was trying to save everyone she could, throwing curses and spells and even unforgivables. She didn’t care that she was breaking the Wizarding law. She had people to protect. The Ministry would have to understand that she had to do all she could to save the students. She had to give them their futures, had to give them more time to live out their dreams. 

She was beyond overwhelmed. Her body was worn out, running on its last stretch of energy. She was determined to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep taking hits meant for those who looked up to her. There was a small part of her filled with pride at all the houses coming together to fight. It kept her going to know that her fellow students were all fighting to protect each other, to protect their school, to protect their world. She had never been more proud of all the students that snuck into the Room of Requirement to learn how to defend themselves from the war that was creeping across the horizon.

Her adrenaline was starting to wear off. She was beginning to feel the full extent of all the hits she had taken. She was starting to move slower and all of her knowledge was beginning to slowly leave her head. It was a struggle to keep fighting, but it was also a relief for her to see that the war was winding down. They; the students of Hogwarts, their parents, their professors, their Wizarding world supports; were winning. The Death Eaters were retreating, running the opposite direction of those fighting on the right side of the war.

In a split second, she was tossing her arms up - sending a spell to protect a younger year from a Death Eater’s last attempt at ending their lives. Her brain gave her one more spell, allowed her the time and energy to petrify the wretched Death Eater. She sent a faint, tired smile to the young boy before she stumbled. Her knees met the harsh, wet ground. It took her a moment to realize it was wet with blood, her blood, that had been sleeping from the wounds that her body had sustained. Her eyes widened as she uncontrollably watched her wand hit the ground, focusing on her left forearm. The mark. She watched as it stopped moving, as it slowly became what would have been a simple muggle tattoo. They had done it. She tried to choke back a sob as she realized that Harry, the boy she had grown up hearing vehemently about, had succeeded. He had killed the Dark Lord.

She brushed her hands slowly against the damp earth, allowing the soaked dirt to ground her to the world. She was slipping. She could feel it. She was barely holding on, barely forcing her lungs to breathe and her eyes to blink and her heart to beat. The world was blurry, churning, turning and she felt that she would fall into a blissful state of sleep at any moment - sleep she knew she would never wake up from. But she had to find Draco first. She had to say goodbye. 

She mustered up the energy, thought of all her memories with Draco, in order to produce a gleaming silver Dragon. She sent it forth into the ruins of the battlefield, knowing, hoping, and maybe even praying that it would find him, that it would get him to her in time.

The time it took for it to reach him wasn’t something she had the mental capacity to track. She just knew that one second she was slipping in and out of consciousness, barely holding her torso up right. And then in the next, Draco was screaming at her, yelling frantically for Neville - telling those that he ran past that they needed to get Neville to him. Neville knew so much more about healing than he did, and he knew that he needed the other teenager to help him.

She barely registered as he slid onto the ground next to her, pulling her body against his. She recognized that he was warm, that his body felt nice against her cooling skin. That he was pleading with her to talk to him, to wake up more, to stay with him. He was holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her, that he was pressing down on the wounds he could cover with a button up she hadn’t even realized he had taken off. The world was muffled to her, like she was listening to everything while her head had been shoved underwater.

Draco yelled out again, struggling to come up with his own patronus without his wand. His wand had been the reason that they had won the war; Harry had used it to get rid of the main threat. He couldn’t say he wished he hadn’t done it, but he wanted more than anything to have his wand so he could try to heal her in whatever ways he could. The panic that was overcoming his body was paralyzing, making everything feel red hot and tingly and making it hard to breathe. He forced it away, forced himself to try to calm down as her hand gently found its way to his moist cheek. He had started crying.

“Bel, we did it. We won. We can live our lives now. We… we can be free.” He told her, feeling more tears rush down his face. “We can be whoever we want to.”

“You…. you can. . . be a healer. Treat everyone…. Live… for us.” Her voice was quiet, her breathing wheezy and strained. “We…. did it.”

“We can both be healers. We can, well, we can finish our last year here and then work together at Saint Mungo’s and live together and just be…. us.” He choked out, softly brushing hair away from her forehead. He needed Neville to be here now, and it broke his heart further to know that they couldn’t apparate because of Dumbledore’s stupid rules.

She gave him a smile, one that looked so sad and broken and hurt. But her eyes showed no trace of her pain, of her knowledge of what would come next. They radiated pure adoration, showing him how much she truly cared for him. 

“I’ll never leave your side again, Isobel. I’m here, okay? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere ever again. You’ll always have me to fight by you, okay? Just stay here. Don’t leave me. Fuck, don’t leave me. I know you can fight through this. We can live through this, Bel. We can. I know we can. Don’t leave me.” He stumbled over his words, a lump growing in his throat as he felt his heart slowly begin sinking in his chest. He was pleading, begging her to stay with him, to not leave him. She was the one thing he had always had, the one person who always promised to never leave him. He couldn’t live without her. He didn’t want to.

“Hey….” Her voice drew his attention, her hands slowly moving to cover his, the ones covering wounds. “Dra… It’s. . . . It’s okay. Y-you know..? Let . . . Go. And…. and. . . L-l-live..”

“Not without you, Isobel. Not without you. I have so many plans for us, so many things for us to do. You… you can’t leave. Not now.” He was shaking, trembling, trying to stop himself from crashing down, from breaking, from shattering. Trying to stop her from leaving him.

“D-Dra-Draco…,” She shuttered for a moment, struggling to keep talking, to keep conscious. “M-Malfoy. . . I. I lo-love….. you…” 

His heart plummeted as her eyes started fluttering shut, her chest making its way to a paused position. And his heart, it didn’t stop, plummeting through the seemingly endless abyss that was his stomach - shattering, collapsing, crumbling, fragmenting all at once. He couldn’t keep track of the pieces as they scattered throughout his body, his chest igniting in overwhelming pain - completely burning as the pain reached a level he had never experienced before. His lungs stalled as his world did, aching and struggling to take in air as he realized that she was gone. The one person that he had always had, that had always been there, had left him. And there wasn’t anything he could do to bring her back. No magic in their world would be able to coax her back to the land of the living. 

And so he broke, letting his world crumble down around him as his sun left. He hugged her tight to his chest. He didn’t miss how she was like a rag doll, body so willingly following the motions he did. She was gone, and the light that had constantly been in his life was diminished. She was gone. His world tumbled and turned and churned and fell apart as he let out a heart-stopping, blood-curdling scream. She had died and all he felt was waves of drowning agony washing over his entire being. All the things he had planned, all the things they were going to do, were never going to happen. And he couldn’t breathe with those thoughts running in his brain.

His head slowly moved as he felt pressure on his shoulder, breaking down even more as he saw Neville kneeling beside him with tears in his eyes. He clung to Isobel, feeling even more shock hit his body as he felt the way her skin was cooling. It was so easy for him to collapse back into Neville, to allow the fellow teenage boy to hold him and his broken world as everything disintegrated around him. In this moment, it was just him holding her mangled body and Neville trying to anchor him back to a reality he no longer wanted to be in, 

“Draco, you have to let go of her. We have to get her inside.” Neville choked out, trying to loosen the boys grip on his best friend. “We need to take care of your injuries.”

“No,” He cried, his body vibrating with panic that Isobel could have stifled by now. “No. No no no nono nonononono. . . She’s not… she’s not gone, right? Neville, she’s still here, we can bring her back. We can save her. Neville, please. I know, I know she’s not gone. She wouldn’t just leave us like this, she wouldn’t just give up…”

Neville’s heart broke alongside Draco’s as he quietly pried his grip off of Isobel, pulling the deteriorating Slytherin into him. “Draco, we can’t. You know that we can’t. There’s nothing we can do. I’m… Im sorry….”

“I didn’t get to tell her.” He blurted out, his words and voice cracking at the realization. “I didn’t get to tell her! She’ll… she’ll never know… Her last words were that she loved me and she died before I could tell her. I’ll…. I'll never get to say it to her…. S-s-she’ll never kn-kn-know….”

“She knew. Draco, she knew.” Neville gently grasped the face of the panicking boy, making him look at him. “Isobel Ville knew, without a doubt, that you love her with your whole heart. She never doubted for a second how you felt about her. She knew…” 

Draco twisted his body around and threw his arms around Neville’s shoulders, collapsing completely into the Gryffindor’s hold. And Neville clung back, holding just as tightly to him. Neville tried to stay strong for Draco, tried to hold back his own pain because he knew that Draco’s had to be millions, billions, trillions of times worse than his. He had loved her, yes, but not to the extent of level that Draco did. He had to be there to help him through it. 

The Slytherin let the brave lion hold him as he completely broke down, yearning to fall into dreams that he would never want to wake up from. Just so he could see her, be with her, even just one last time. So he could hear her laugh and see her smile and look at her, see the life radiating positively throughout her body. She shone with life in a way that no one else could, bringing light into even the darkest times of his life, offering the world her own sunshine. And it was gone. It had imploded, causing his world to collapse within itself - almost as if his own personal little galaxy had collided with the black hole that was now her life, and had been consumed by the Inky blackness. He wanted just one more moment with her. Just one more small second to tell her how he felt, to hold her and be with her and just soak in her rays one last time. His universe would never be the same without its main source of light.

#trsdrafts #theredemptionseriesdrafts

[malucy31]

Time is On Our Side

Pairing - Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Raiting - Teen and Up

Tags - Time Travel AU, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Reunion, Married Malec, Alec Misses Magnus, Happy Ending, Malec Love Each Other A Lot

6599 words - COMPLETED

Summary - Alec is stuck on a mission in India in the 18th century and he misses Magnus. One day, he wakes up somewhere that feels and smells like home.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Home, at last

There is a whole ritual every time Alec comes back from time traveling. Magnus is always there at the Institute, wearing a mix of worry and eagerness on his features.

The anchoring spell is performed quickly, just a way to make sure that no traveler’s history gets lost when the timelines merge a couple of hours from now. But Alec stays out, always. He refuses to be anchored to anyone but Magnus. They do it in the quiet and intimacy of their loft.

They don’t talk much. Even when they are in their kitchen, Magnus watches in silence as Alec eats like he hasn’t in days, which in this case is accurate. In the two days between meeting Magnus and the new moon, Alec has been so scared of having divulged too much that he hasn’t come out of his room, using nourishment runes, one after the other.

As usual, Magnus doesn’t eat a thing. It has only been a few minutes for him anyway; they had dinner before Alec left. The dinner before a time travel is always a heavy moment. It’s weird for them both. Not sharing time, knowing the next minutes of Magnus’s life could feel like weeks, a month…a decade to Alec.

A decade never happened, but the fear is always there. So, to remind each other that no matter what, Alec will always come back, they keep a third plate for Alec’s return, leaving everything on the table as it was. Alec will always come home, and their home will always be ready to welcome him back.

They don’t really have a lot of time after that. They need to prepare the protecting circle for the anchoring spell, but Alec can see that worry hasn’t left Magnus’s face. As Magnus is tracing the circle on the ground, Alec puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, calling his name as softly as he can.

They still don’t exchange a word. Alec can’t, knowing that if he starts, he could talk for days, shower Magnus with every promise of eternal love flaring up in his lungs with each intake of breath, with every moment of longing that peppered his last month and a half.

But it will have to wait. In the meantime, fear and worry start evaporating with a soft kiss, then a second one which turns into a hungrier one. That’s all it takes. The reminder that they share time again, they never stopped sharing it in some way.

Clothes are being discarded. They don’t have to feel each other’s skin for the spell, but their hearts do.

Alec finds the ingredients Magnus needs without having to ask. His hands are full of jars, and there is an apple tree twig between his teeth. He feels Magnus’s stare on him when he re-enters the living room where a circle of candles has been set up around a mattress.

What? he asks wordlessly with raised eyebrows.

Magnus sniggers, his voice finally filling the silence. “This never gets old.” He unburdens Alec’s arms by taking the jars one by one and setting them on the nearest table. “You, finding your way through my apothecary…” Alec doesn’t move, chuckling when Magnus finally takes the twig from his mouth and kisses his lips. “On your own…” Fingers trail up along his sides, and he can’t hold back a giggle, “in your underwear.”

“Feels good to be home,” Alec whispers into their kiss.

“It does.”

*

Once the spell starts, everything goes quickly. Time adjusting itself around them is intoxicating. It feels like those life showers Magnus likes to take with him sometimes. Running from portal to portal, hand in hand, hopping from a green and sunny hill to a rainy seashore, from hard concrete ground to silky sheets. Remaining there for a few breathless kisses before disappearing into the mattress with laughter when they hear a door opening. Landing on a trampoline, then more streets, more mountains, more kisses and the sweetest of all exhaustions. Watching the first minutes of a play before falling back, trapped between something fluffy and the comforting weight of Magnus. More laughter, always more laughter…then running again. Running around the world and taking everything in as the Earth keeps on spinning.

*

A draft wakes them at the same time. Alec feels Magnus stir, his arm and head leaving his chest before returning there with a sigh.

Around the mattress and the protecting circle, it’s havoc. The windows to the balcony are wide open, curtains billowing out in the breeze, birds exploring the living room and eating crumbs the wind scattered from their forgotten dinner.

There are even a few plants here and there, growing from the ground. It happens sometimes. It’s Magnus’s magic going a little crazy when it comes to protecting what they have. They are used to it. The flowers that grow don’t even always exist outside their own little world.

Alec plants a kiss in Magnus’s hair, inhaling a scent he has been missing for the last month and a half. Already grinning with delight about what’s to come, Alec eventually speaks. “Go ahead, ask…”

It doesn’t take long for Magnus to react. It’s endearing. Magnus always waits for Alec to start this conversation, making it another ritual with its codes and rules.

“Which stranger were you this time?”

There’s joy in his voice, one that Alec usually doesn’t link with Magnus thinking about his past.

Alec doesn’t answer, already shifting to retrieve the small pouch of sandalwood blend, eager to see his husband’s face light up when he figures it out on his own. But he should know better.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Magnus asks, his body suddenly weighing more heavily above his to make his point clearer. Alec isn’t going anywhere. It makes him laugh softly.

“I have a clue, but it’s in my jacket.”

“Which one?”

“The one I had yesterday? The one you took off with so little regard…”

“Well, there were other important things that demanded my attention,” he punctuates with a kiss, not letting his lips leave Alec’s, “and it’s a black leather jacket. You have thousands of them.”

He could tease him back, maybe tickle him, hear him giggle, feel the laughter and joy spread through his body. With Magnus so close, he would feel everything. But he is overwhelmed.

“I missed you so much, Magnus.”

“I know, darling. But I’m here now, we both are…and I’ve missed you just as much. Whoever you were this time, you can be sure that even though I barely knew you, I missed you the second you were gone. That I missed us without really knowing what us meant.”

Neither of them moves, not even for a kiss. Magnus swallows thicky, and Alec is struck by the emotions on his face. Years of being together and Magnus still feels self-conscious when he confesses things like that. But it never stops him, and even after all these years, Alec still feels like the luckiest man alive.

Magnus continues, his collected tone and loving smile trying to bring Alec back to him. “Do you see it?”

“Huh?”

“Your jacket, Alexander, can you tell me where it is so I can summon it?”

“Sure, it’s…” Alec cranes his neck. Their place is a mess, but he spots his jacket on the floor, somewhere between what seems to be an orchid and a cat napping in a morning sunbeam. “There.”

They laugh as Magnus follows Alec’s pointed finger, apparently realizing for the first time the state of their living room.

He snaps his fingers, and the jacket is there. In one of its pockets, Alec finds the small pouch. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Magnus to recognize it.

“It’s one of mine! Where did you get this?”

“You gave it to me.”

“I gave it to you? You must have made a big impression on me.”

“I think I did,” Alec smirks, still a little worried that he told too much to that past version of Magnus. “Especially when I told you about my husband.”

He sees Magnus’s eyes widen, just like they did all those centuries ago.

“The married traveler, of course… Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you? For a long time, I was obsessed with that place in the world where it seemed possible for people like us to exist.” His voice breaks a little on those words.

Alec can’t resist the urge to hug him, take him in his arms and secure his head in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry. It broke my heart to leave you this way.”

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry. I kept a very fond memory of that encounter. And who knows, maybe you’ll have to go back, and we’ll realize we met again in the morning.”

“Maybe we never really stopped meeting.”

“What a lovely thought…”

They bask in the silence for a little while, Magnus’s body relaxing against Alec’s.

“Can you remind me what happened? What we said?”

It’s still so fresh in Alec’s mind that he tells him every detail.

The anchoring spell protects those moments, frozen in time. They have so many memories like this one now, not really knowing if it really happened, if this is part of their story or some sort of alternate reality. It doesn’t matter. They are still here, together in the end, with dozens of memories of a life that maybe was. None of them affecting their life, only adding to it.

Somewhere during the story, Magnus rolled on his side to face Alec.

“When did we see each other after that?” Magnus asks.

It gets complicated to answer that question, Alec doesn’t time travel every day, but he has done it a few times already. It’s not always easy to keep track.

“The pirate ship!” They exclaim at the same time, laughing at the memory.

Alec reaches out, grazing Magnus’s cheekbone, outlining his jaw and diving into his eyes. They sparkle with joy, gold shining proudly in the morning light.

“It feels good,” Alec eventually utters. “Seeing you talking about your past with such lightness, laughing.”

Magnus whispers his answer into the crook of Alec’s neck. “It’s easier now that I know you could be anywhere in it.”

The words turn into soft kisses, each of them reminding Alec why those time travels are always worth it, no matter how long they can feel. Each of them is a chance to give Magnus back what life took from him. Hope, happiness, laughter, cheerfulness…

“You really are a man of your word, aren’t you?” Magnus continues.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re taking our wedding vows further than I would ever dare ask you to, Alexander… As if your love in our present wasn’t enough, you give it to past versions of myself too, do you realize how extraordinary this is? How extraordinary you are?”

“‘m not. Loving you is easy.”

“Stop selling yourself short, my heart, and accept to be worshipped like you deserve to be.”

“Only if you accept it too.” Alec tastes the giggle on Magnus’s lips, letting it infuse in him. He doesn’t need to see him to notice the sudden stiffness in Magnus. “What is it?” he asks, his fingers rubbing soothing circles at the back of Magnus’s hair.

His answer comes in a murmur. “I know it’s selfish, but I’ll never have enough of your lifetime. Whether it’s to repay you or to love you. It will never be enough.” He sighs, his next words barely audible. But it doesn’t matter. Alec would hear those words even in a storm. “I need you for more than your lifetime.”

Magnus has never said it like this, never so directly. It makes Alec’s reply so much easier. “Then, maybe we should find a way to extend it?” Any tentativeness dies when Alec is met by two golden irises and a smile that has rarely been so big. “I never want to leave you alone. I mean, if you’re being selfish, I may just as well be too, right?”

“Yes, yes you may be, darling… You can be whatever you want.”

“I love you.” It’s impossible to stop beaming at Magnus in this moment, so he doesn’t. They will have forever, no matter how long it takes to find it. “Who you are, who you were, and who you will be. I’ll love every version of you as long as you’ll have me.”

“Oh Alexander… An eternity or two is a bare minimum.”

#malec #malec fic #malec fanfiction #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #time travel fic #time travel au #malec reunion #malec fluff #immortal husbands #my writing #malec fanfic

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal VII

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.3k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 7

A/N: we’re back witches

The Shores of Sorrow was never meant to be a peaceful place. It was perfectly designed to torture lost souls for eternity, to damn them to an existence where they are forgotten by all except the high tides that mercilessly embraced them. Perfectly designed for torment, and yet you felt nothing but peace as the waves washed over your feet and the sun clung to the horizon … that is, until you sensed the demon behind you. 

With a quick exhale, you summoned the Harpe and let it guide your muscles to cut down your attacker as you turned. Though it had been clumsy and cumbersome when Caliban had first given it to you, you’d grown used to the weight of the sword and learned the necessity of the sickle. The Harpe was an extension of yourself. 

“Careful, love.” Caliban wielded his smile as dangerously as you wielded the Harpe. He’d jumped out of the way of your blow, but his The Doors t-shirt was too slow. The Harpe tore through the right side of his shirt, barely missing his skin. “You could hurt someone like that.” 

Tilting your head to the side and leveling your sword at him, you said, “That’s kind of the point, babe. Sorry about your shirt though.” 

Caliban looked at the Harpe for a moment before smiling to himself and stepping backward. Kneeling down and sinking his hands into the sand, he said, “I think it suits me better this way, don’t you?” He rose with twin obsidian daggers.

“I think it would look a lot better if you weren’t threatening me.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’d like to see what those malignants have taught you.”

“Oh, would you now?” 

Grinning, Caliban twirled the daggers and struck out. He was fast, but you’d been trained to be faster. 

You pulled the Harpe in to block the dagger headed for your chest and swiped to knock it to one side. Caliban turned into the movement so as not to lose the blade. He circled you with a dangerous smile, searching for a weak spot. You knew he’d found one when he tossed one of the daggers in the air and caught it with an overhand grip. Yet his determination still surprised you when he lunged and aimed a strike at your side. 

Dropping the Harpe, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer - ignoring the stinging in your side to make a play for the other dagger. Caliban laughed at the clumsy attempt until you kneed him in the gut. 

Twisting out of his hold, you summoned the Harpe and readied yourself for the next attack. For a while, Caliban moved in insufferable silence, but soon he started throwing witticisms and critiques your way as well. As distracting as the words were, they kept you from overthinking. Your moves were smoother, hits were harder, and strikes quicker. Still, you were restrained; no matter how easy it would have been to lean into the Harpe’s viciousness, you couldn’t risk hurting Caliban. 

The sparring only stopped once you’d knocked each other to the ground, a dagger pressed to your ribcage and the Harpe at Caliban’s throat. You were frozen, the never-setting sun washing his features in pale pink light and contrasting the flecks of gold in his eye. He smiled. 

“If this were a real fight-” he pulled the dagger back to twirl around his index finger before throwing it into the sand, “I would have cut out your heart by now.” 

“If this were a real fight-” you leaned down slightly, applying ever so much more pressure to the Harpe “-I would have summoned Hellfire in your lungs and watched you burn alive by now.” 

With a dangerous smile of your own, you pulled the Harpe back and let it vanish as you rolled over to a seat. The sun hung ambivalently on the horizon, blanketed in clouds. With the water slowly washing the shore, you could almost forget the souls of the damned drowning further out to sea. 

As you sighed, Caliban rolled on his side to face you, head cradled in his hand. He touched your elbow and ran his index finger along your arm as he said, “Summoning Hellfire is new. Last week you just threatened to stop my heart.” 

Truth be told, you couldn’t have stopped his heart even if you wanted you. You’d learned to master many of the gifts Lilith had given you, but telekinesis always gave you a nasty headache. “Keeping track of my powers in case I’ll follow through one of these days?” you asked, turning to him with an easy smile. You reached over and pushed some of his hair behind his ear. 

Catching your hand with his, Caliban said, “Not at all.” Carefully, deliberately, he ran his thumb across the outside of your hand, connecting the scars scattered along your skin. “I won’t mind if you do, but I only ask in a vain attempt to determine when Lilith will be satisfied with your training.” 

You choked out a laugh. “Lilith is never going to be satisfied with my training.” Rolling your eyes, you moved from your seat to lie in the sand. You stared at the clouds ahead, darker than you’d ever seen in Hell. “Every time I get the hang of one ability, she comes up with some fresh punishment. I’m hoping she’ll chill out once my replacement is born.” 

Caliban was quiet. He looked at you with the same curious, indecipherable expression he’d used when you met on the Shores of Sorrow; jaw clenched, mouth barely upturned, and eyes searching. You asked what he was searching for.

“I was wondering where exactly I fit in the grand plan,” he said.

“Right next to me?” He didn’t seem convinced. You reached for his hand again. “Honestly, I don’t know where I fit into the plan either, but I do know they’re showing all the Alien movies at the Paramount this Friday. Maybe you could-”

A drop of rain landed on your face, but when you wiped it away, your hand was smeared black. You bolted upright, and the world around you shook. 

“Caliban, what’s happening?”

“Someone’s trying to wake you, but you have to be careful-”

Electricity cracked through your skull, the pain so overwhelming that you didn’t register the tightness in your chest at first. Every muscle in your body ached, cramping from the sudden tension. You’d only experienced this kind of pain your first time using dream manipulation, when Lilith purposely pulled you out too suddenly to teach you the dangers of the waking world. 

Lilith wasn’t the one who woke you this time. The white spots faded from your vision to give way to your dad, frantic and shaking you. By the time your hearing came back, he'd moved to the window. He rocked on his heels as he peered between your curtains. His words were incomprehensible. 

“Dad, what’s wrong?” 

Your dad turned his whole body to look at you. He blinked twice, slowly, before saying, “Oh, good. You’re awake. All the lights are out.” 

Gingerly, you tested your muscles before trying to sit up. Everything still hurt, but you could move. “Did you try messing with the breaker?” 

“I was an English major,” he told you seriously. 

You rolled your eyes, thankful that he was at least lucid enough to crack a joke. He’d gotten better when Lilith was still coming around, but she stopped visiting almost as soon as she started. “I’ll go see if it’s affecting anyone else or just us.” 

Crawling out of bed, you waited for the world to come into focus before making your way through the house to the breaker in the garage. You were just about to open the door when the toaster dinged behind you. It was working perfectly. The fridge was cool inside, even if the light wasn’t working. The only flaw you could find with any of the appliances you checked was the lack of light. 

With a shudder, you told your dad that you were going to Sabrina’s. 

He’d seemed completely himself since you woke up, but now he looked at you with a glassy expression that you knew all too well. Instead of telling you to be careful or that he’d see you soon or that he loved you, he said, “The instruments of darkness tell us truths.” 

“Right,” you said with a sigh. You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll keep that mind.”

---

One thing that you never understood about the Spellmans was that they never locked their doors. You understood now that a lock couldn’t keep out the threats they faced and there was no need to keep out their friends, but you still smiled to yourself as you let yourself in through the backdoor. Once inside, you found Sabrina, Ambrose, Nick, and Prudence huddled around the breakfast table as Ambrose warned them against something he called the eldritch terrors. 

He told them to imagine a world without light, just perpetual darkness. Chaos would follow, and eventually so would death. You shuddered at the dark clouds in your dreams. “Worse comes to worst,” he said, “We cannot allow the darkness to escape Greendale.”

Prudence promised to work with the coven to seal Greendale’s borders as Nick offered to work with the Fright Club to contain the miners. Sabrina and Ambrose would work to disperse the darkness. None of them sounded very hopeful.

You took a step forward and tried to sound braver than you felt. “I can help.” 

“Okay, sure,” Sabrina said, nodding at Ambrose over her shoulder. If she was surprised to see you after lurking in the corner of her kitchen, she didn’t say anything about it. “You can help Nick look for a spell to stop the miners.” 

“No, Brina, that’s not what I meant.” Taking a deep breath, you held out your hand, palm up to the sky. You summoned the Hellfire and let the dark paint the flames and your eyes black. “I can help.” 

There was only one time in your life that you’d ever left Sabrina Spellman at a loss for words: you were nine years old and Billy was testing the limits of the school’s zero-tolerance bullying, Sabrina was using her words the way Aunt Hilda had told her to, and you used your push-kick the way your dad had told you to. The speechless that overcame her now, however, was a different breed. When you were young, it had been a kind of admiration; now, it was a kind of betrayal. The quiet of a broken promise. 

While Sabrina was still processing how her best friend could summon Hellfire, Prudence leaned in closer. She tilted her head as she took you in, intrigued by you for the first time since you’d met her. Even as Nick dragged her out, she kept her eye on you like a cat watches a mouse. Just before she disappeared, she winked at you. 

You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind that is Prudence Blackwood that you didn’t notice Sabrina’s recovery and Ambrose’s diatribe. She pointed out that even if you could keep the darkness at bay long enough for her to create light, her powers wouldn’t be enough. Ambrose argued that the consequences of her suggestion would be cataclysmic. 

“Aren’t we facing something cataclysmic?” she asked. 

Ambrose sighed. Sabrina, begrudgingly, had made a fair point. “How do we go about this? No one other than myself can see the two of you together.”

“Uh, hi?” You stepped forward carefully. “Could one of you please explain what’s going on?” 

Sabrina looked at Ambrose uncertainly. He nodded - after rolling his eyes - and she took a deep breath. “Remember when I gave up being Queen of Hell?” 

“Yeah…” 

“I didn’t really do that. I broke a time loop and created another version of myself so that I, Sabrina Spellman, could have this life and she, Sabrina Morningstar, could continue being Queen of Hell.” 

“Damning the rest of us to a universe that could potentially fold in on itself in the process,” Ambrose finished. 

“Oh.” You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised that there were two Sabrinas - it didn’t make sense for Caliban to tell you stories about Sabrina advocating for reforms in Hell when you’d seen in her homeroom that same morning stressing about a trig midterm - but you were surprised she’d managed to keep it a secret so long. “This explains why you were muttering about time paradoxes when we were researching the fairy circles outside the Academy,” you said to Ambrose. 

All Ambrose could do was choke out a laugh and shake his head. “Yes, Scout, that is why I was muttering about time paradoxes and why I will die prematurely,” he said, turning on his heel to focus on Sabrina. “Get Sabrina Morningstar, keep contact to a minimum, and we will meet you both at the mines.” 

“Got it!” With a grin, Sabrina disappeared to prepare a glamor. 

Ambrose stared at her, stunned, before saying, “I think she’s actually enjoying this.” 

“What’s not to enjoy?” you asked. You laughed at Ambrose’s outrage over your joke and told him you’d meet him at the mines. There was one thing you had to do before you took on the eldritch darkness. 

Ambrose didn’t ask any questions; he just told you to be back as soon as possible. 

Luckily for you, teleporting to Hell took almost no time at all. The only reason it took you so long to get back to the mines was that it was nearly impossible for both Lilith and Caliban to slip away from the Courts unnoticed. If getting them in a room together was nearly impossible, then getting them not to tear one another’s throats out required a miracle. 

It seemed the only thing the two of them could agree on was that it was too dangerous for you to go into the darkness alone. 

“I won’t be alone,” you said for the umpteenth time. Careful not to mention the other Sabrina, you explained, “I’ll have all the Spellmans with me. All I’m asking from you is …” What exactly were you asking from them? Help? Forgiveness? 

Lilith rolled her eyes. “While the Spellmans may have an uncanny ability to vanquish their foes, I severely doubt their ability to ward off one of the eldritch terrors. Especially without their resident Morningstar.” 

“And what exactly are you suggesting we do, Lilith?” Caliban asked. He said her name as if it were a poison. He used the same steely voice to talk to her that he used when he challenged her claim to the throne, even if he paired it with a smile in your presence. 

Lilith simmered, pulling her lips into a tight smile. Some part of her, you thought, enjoyed the fact that Caliban was defiant, but you knew that an even larger part of her disliked others doubting her. Turning to you, she said, “No one other than the three of us can know about your claim to Hell. I cannot help you face the darkness, but if we bind our powers together, you may have a chance of surviving it on your own.”

“Even with your power, how would I even go about fighting something like this?” you asked. “I can’t make light.” 

“You don’t need to,” Lilith said. “You can feed on the dark, acknowledge it as yours, and draw power from it.” 

Caliban doused the fire building in your veins with water as he stepped forward. “The effects of absorbing that much darkness could be deadly.”

“So is doing nothing,” Lilith said. She tilted her head up to him and narrowed her eyes. “So, Prince of Clay, unless you have any better ideas, I suggest we get a move on before the eldritch dark ends us all.” 

---

You weren’t sure what to expect from the other Sabrina. You’d supposed they would be the same as Wardwell and Lilith: they’d share a face and be impossibly different from one another, but that wasn’t the case. Sabrina Morningstar was an exact double of Sabrina Spellman; if anything, she seemed to be a more hopeful version of your best friend, despite her extended stay in Hell. 

“I see what you mean about the energy down here,” she mused, looking ahead to where the Darkness lay. “It’s … evil. And old. I feel terrible.”

The Darkness didn’t feel evil to you. It felt sad, bottomless, and empty, but not evil. 

“And that will only get worse once you’re inside,” Ambrose said. He tore his eyes away from the Darkness. “Prolonged and acute exposure to the Darkness is lethal. Death by despair.” He sighed. “So who’s first?” 

Sabrina Morningstar shifted next to you. “Me.” 

She squeezed your hand before letting go to pick up the giant lightbulb at her feet. She threw you a trademarked Sabrina smile before disappearing into the Darkness. Even in the pit of despair, there was a light in her that seemed utterly unable to be snuffed out. 

You took a deep breath, shook every other thought out of your head, and focused on the dark. The Dark wasn’t evil, it wasn’t cold. It was pulling faces over a flashlight under the covers with Roz, Theo, and Sabrina. It was Tommy teaching you and Harvey about astronomy through a cracked telescope. It was warm, and sweet, and deeply, intrinsically sad.

The Darkness filled every cell of your being, replaying every birthday you spent wishing that your mother had loved you enough to stay, echoing every degrading word school bullies had said to you. It was smothering.

Sabrina stood right next to you, but her voice was barely audible. “Something’s wrong, Ambrose. The- the light’s fading.”

“I’m afraid so, cos,” Ambrose said. 

You fought to pull yourself out of the Darkness, but it was like shedding a second skin. The Darkness felt like a part of you, more you than yourself. 

The instruments of darkness tell us truths. 

Breathing in, you opened your eyes and steadied yourself. The Darkness was a part of you, maybe the truest piece of you, but that’s all it was: one part of you, one version of the truth. You reached for Sabrina’s hand and forced a smile. 

“Let’s go help her.”

Sabrina stepped into the Darkness first, but then she froze. She couldn’t feel the energy in the dark like you. Carefully, you led her through the Dark until you found Sabrina Morningstar, Darkness seeping out her nose and eyes. She was crying, hope snuffed out. 

Hope, it turned out, took the form of Sabrina Spellman. She picked the pieces of Sabrina Morningstar off the floor and told her that they could face the Darkness, and anything else that came their way, together. And maybe with a little help, you added, as you knelt with them. 

Taking their hands in yours, you drew the Darkness out of their hearts. While Sabrina Spellman hadn’t let very much in, Sabrina Morningstar had worn her heart on her sleeve. She felt every emotion the Darkness threw at her with full force and let her shattered past cut her open. Taking her Darkness was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, but it was worth it to see the two of them smile over a lightbulb filled with Absolute Darkness. 

Ambrose was a wreck when you found him again. He looked ready to cry at the sight of you. “Congratulations! Unbelievably, the three of you have managed to do what is nearly impossible: you trapped an eldritch terror.”

“We did it,” the Sabrina’s said, each squeezing one of your hands. 

“We should get that lightbulb somewhere safe,” Ambrose said. He took another shaky breath and shook his head as Sabrina Morningstar scooped the Darkness up and started wading through the mines. “I can’t believe that actually worked.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly, watching them disappear down the tunnel. Lifting a hand to wipe your nose, you saw the familiar sticky Darkness painting your fingertips. “Neither can I.”

Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @miss–moose  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​  @foji2000​​  @hxlalokidottir​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @shephard17895​  @andie-kathleen​  @clockworks-world-to-fandoms​  @luquincy  @marina468​  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​  @blondeeee-e  @piensa-bonito   @supportstudies​

#caos #caos rewrite #Caliban #Infernal #chilling adventures of sabrina #caliban x reader #caliban imagine

[beevean]

Ok so here's the big one: Symphony of the Night?

Boy, where do I begin.

So, this game had a weird curve. When I started it at the beginning of the year, it was underwhelming. In retrospect, I think it's because you spend too much time going through a linear path with a very weak Alucard - incidentally, I gave up just before the first brancing path, deciding whether to visit the Caverns or the Royal Chapel first.

Then I tried it again a few days ago, still hated it, and I was this close to giving up because, no matter what, I couldn't see the brilliance that everyone promised me. But then... I can't explain why, but going to the Caverns before the Chapel changed everything. Maybe I leveled up enough, maybe I was starting to get into the rhythm. The game had finally clicked, and by the time I got the bat and the entire castle was at my feet, I couldn't stop anymore. In fact, even though I guessed my next destination, I kept getting distracted because it felt like every room had something valuable to find. Oh, so this is why this game is so beloved: it just keeps rewarding you and your fine gaming insticts.

The inverted castle was another dip, though. It wasn't outright awful, but it was tiring, because of the level design that required tons of super jumps and turning into bat/mist and how overwhelming it was to have the ability to explore everything at once. Also the game became a literal cakewalk as soon as I found the Alucard Shield, which is the first time in my life I've ever felt like I was too OP :P the Alucard Sword is a little less disgusting, at least. And I didn't even use the spells because they registered less than half the time lol. But still, the entire time I was playing, my thought was “I can’t wait to get to the end because I’m going to start from scratch”.

Anyway, if there's a word I could use to describe SOTN, it's complex. Too complex at times. There is so much stuff you can find, so many secrets, so many ways to break the game, so many places to visit, and then there's the RPG elements like leveling up and juggling between increasing stats and effects of an item... as I mentioned, I felt overwhelmed more than once. It doesn't help that the castle opens up all of the sudden with little to no indication to where you’re supposed to go first - from what I've heard, the original Metroid did the same, which is also why some people say it's confusing (at least SOTN has a pretty good map). This is not a complete negative, though, because it also means it's very versatile for every player's style. You can prefer stronger weapons, prefer even stronger items that you can only use once, use potions that increase stats, try special moves, try spells, power up your alternative forms, level up familiars... Or just stick to your guns as long as possible and make the game a little harder when it starts to become too easy. The choice, like the choice of your next path, is yours. After all, I know now that you’re supposed to go to the Chapel before visiting the Caverns, but doing the opposite gave me a new appreciation for the game :)

As for the technical side, I can't say anything new. The game looks stunning, and has aged like the fine wine Dracula was drinking in the intro, something that cannot be said for most games that came out in 1997 :P I love 5th gen spritework, I love Alucard's 30-frame walking cycle with his swishing cape (bonus point if you're wearing the transparent one), I love how cleverly the primitive 3D was used, and some rooms left me slackjawed, like the 3D church in the Chapel and that gorgeous waterfall <3

And I thought Super Castlevania IV and Bloodlines were flexing.

And the music, oh I don't know, I just had Requiem for the Gods and Lost Painting playing in loop in my brain for the past days, no big deal :V there's something to be said for an OST that goes from rock to groovy to baroque to goosebumps to what even is this but I love it nonetheless. But if I list every track that I liked, I might as well link the entire playlist :P even the quality of the soundfont is excellent, still obviously MIDI but not in a grating or outdated way, it just gives the tracks a slightly nostalgic feeling. I think they would have hit me in the feels if I played this when I was a kid.

oh right, and screw that moving statue in the clock tower.

So, in short, my first playthrough was... an experience. I really can’t say I like this game more than Super Metroid, which captured me even during my first, 4:44 long playthrough (I clocked at 9 hours here, which means that if there were only a castle I would have taken around the same time to finish). But I’m really eager to try again with a fresh outlook - this is definitely a game you won’t get tired of easily.

#castlevania #castlevania symphony of the night #symphony of the night

[streamacademe]

Bonus post: Thesis writing.

This post will be a combination of tips and tricks I have received from numerous sources, with the majority coming from Shinton Consulting and STREAM IDC staff. 

The big T

If you’re anything like me, just the word ‘thesis’ can instill a sense of dread in me. However, the best way to deal with a phobia is to face it head on, so let’s do just that, both in a literal and metaphorical sense. 

What a thesis is and what to expect...

Writing a thesis could take anywhere between four weeks to a whole year, and sometimes even longer! The worst thing you can do is compare your progress to that of others; setting a benchmark is one thing, but beating yourself into a panicked pulp because you haven’t written as many chapters as a fellow PhD/EngD won’t do you any good. The best thing you can do is have regular discussions with your supervisors on how long your thesis will take and plan accordingly. 🕖

Your thesis has to be fit for purpose (that is to pass), which means that it has to:

Satisfy the expectations of your institution and industry sponsor (if applicable).

How did you solve the problem that was proposed to you?

Contain material which presents a unified body of work that could reasonably be achieved on the basis of three years’ postgraduate study and research.

Show you have done the work and impress your examiners.

Allow your examiners to confirm that the thesis is an original work, which makes a significant contribution to the field, including material worthy of publication.

Research your examiners and quote them where possible, especially if they’re relevant to your field.

Show adequate knowledge of the field of study and relevant literature. 

Make sure you read all of the key papers in your field. 

What were the gaps in knowledge?

The ‘references’ section is very important as this sets the scene and examiners will read this. BUT, don’t have too many references. 

Demonstrate critical judgement with regard to both the candidate’s work and that of other scholars in the same general field.

Compare approaches and conclusions of others.

Note potential conflicts of interest.

Why did you use this method/approach?

Is your interpretation the only possible explanation?

Be presented in a clear, consistent, concise, and accessible format. 

Make your examiners lives easier. 

Make your viva as pleasant as can be!

Basically, you need to know why your project was important, be able to explain the key work that has already been done in the area and how it relates to your research aim. You should then be able to explain what you have done during your research and how this contributes to your field. 

Note: Keep checking university regulations! Each university should have their own code of practice for supervisors and research students, which will look something like this. 

Picture: A short summary of the above. Source: Tumblr.

Planning and writing

I’m not going to lie to you, it is not going to be easy. I have only just embarked on the journey myself and am already overwhelmed. However, with the right preparation, coping mechanisms in place, and a tremendous amount of self-discipline, we will get through. ☕

Getting started

You need to practice writing. That’s as simple as advice gets. 

You need to practice reading other PhD/EngD theses, mainly to understand what to expect, and to experience what being the audience for a thesis is like. 

Create a thesis plan... 

To start the mammoth task that is thesis writing, it needs to be fully understood and broken down into manageable chunks.

Make a plan (perhaps based on the table of contents of another thesis) of all the sections and chapters in the thesis.

Then break these into sections and keep breaking it down until you are almost at the paragraph level.

Now you can start writing!

Where to start the actual writing?

Start with the most comfortable chapter, such as a previously published paper, a set of results that are straightforward and can be easily explained, methodology/methods, etc. 

Create a storyboard for your thesis and write as if you are telling that story.

If you’re not sure what comes next, refer to previous theses and back to your plan and storyboard. 

Be ready to amend the plan for future chapters as each is completed and you become more aware of what the thesis must contain.

Remember: THINKING IS HARD, WRITING IS EASIER. 💭

Organisation

Develop and maintain a logical filing system.

Improve your back up technique; if it’s not saved in 3+ locations, it is not safely backed up.

Back up every day.

Never overwrite previous documents, just make many versions. It’s not worth the risk of losing a valuable piece of work from a copy and paste error.

Copy any key parts from your lab/note/field books as these can get lost/damaged.

Keep a file/folder of thoughts, references, etc. that you are not including in your thesis; these may be useful to refer back to for ideas and information.

Effective writing

Establish a routine, don’t be distracted, take breaks.

Set clear and realistic goals for each week/day. 

A GANTT chart is very good for this; use it to keep on track and measure progress.

You just gotta start. The hardest part is the beginning.

Don’t stall on details, walk away for a short break to clear your mind.

Get formatting correct from the start (check your code of practice/regulations).

Be consistent with references.

Seek help from the experts - supervisors, postdocs, online sources/training programmes etc.

Create SMART objectives for your writing process:

Specific - e.g. “I will complete chapter 3/collate all diagrams” rather than “I will make good progress”.

Measurable - e.g. “I will write 4 pages today” not “I will try to write as much as I can”.

Achievable - e.g. “I will complete the first draft for my supervisor” not “I will get it perfect before he/she sees it”.

Realistic - e.g. “I will complete the introduction today” not “I will complete a chapter a week”.

Time - it can be useful to set yourself deadlines e.g. tell your supervisor you will hand in a draft on a certain day - that way you are sure to have it done.

Finally, find a balance between being tough with yourself whilst protecting your well-being the best you can. I wrote a post a little while ago that covers managing your mental health during a PhD. Read it here. 

GIF: Anna Kendrick dishing out some top advice. Source: Tumblr.

A few more tips

Supervisor management

Establish what you want to cover in each meeting.

Keep a record of the outcomes and actions from those meetings.

Make your supervisors lives easy; they’re very busy humans.

They are unlikely to judge work unless it is presented completely (i.e. fully written with tables, figures, etc.).

Give them a neat, complete version of a chapter at a time (proof-read thoroughly and spell-checked).

It is in your supervisors interest for you to complete in good time; they are experts and will offer a lot of support.

To summarise, a good thesis:

Has an appreciation of what came before.

Focuses on the interesting and important.

Is well reasoned.

Will change the way people think.

Will teach your supervisors something. 

Has publishable results.

Is logical in presentation, analysis, and arguments.

Is well illustrated with tables, figures, graphs, summary flow charts etc.

It is worth spending a lot of time on these. 

Is written without grammatical and spelling errors.

Has an appreciation of what comes next.

I hope that the above was helpful! There are many resources out there, so get exploring if you need more advice!

I’ll soon be writing a post on how to survive your viva! So, watch this space. ✨

Photo: Make this your phone/desktop/laptop/everything background when you’re writing, I know I will! Source: Tumblr.

#diary of a phd student #phd life #phd #studyblr #thesis writing #tips #tricks #planning #writing #organisation #shinton consulting #water research #supervisor management #mental health #anna kendrick #SMART objectives #self discipline #motivation #critical judgement #surviving your viva #structure #antithesis #synthesis #thesis #stream idc #support #you just gotta start #just do it #hard work #worth it

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 05.2 | thomas jefferson

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

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And how do you spell that?"

"Like you've never written it before?"

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

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

"Your order will be out shortly."

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

"I'll keep it in mind."

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm-hmm."

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

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

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

"Enjoy your food, Secretary Jefferson."

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

"Gave it my best guess."

"I'm sure you did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, please."

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

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

"Oh, Y/N!"

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

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

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

"You and me both."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll need it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your prerogative, Doll."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But he's the candidate."

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

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

"Who said Thomas was the standard?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We'll see about that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What was zat?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I..."

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

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

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

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

"Somethin' like that."

She furrowed her brow. "Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't tempt me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Glad you follow.".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widened. "How old is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. "Do I, now?"

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

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

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

"You think I sound like that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How truly self-sacrificing."

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

Her eyebrows shot up. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's nothin'."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widened. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn't respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm just saying!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd really rather not say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Once or twice, I guess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds like an admission--"

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

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

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

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

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

"This sounds like suspicious logic."

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

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

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

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

"Perfect."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?" Her voice was quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She checked her watch again. 9:56 PM.

The diner closed at 10.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thomas?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not this coffee."

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

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

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

"Somethin' like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of you or of her?" she teased.

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

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

He shrugged, unabashed. "More or less."

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

"You could never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it that good?"

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

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

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

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

"Hurtful."

"I'm sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get your own mother figure, Jefferson."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anytime."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know where to find the door."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I really should head out, sweetheart."

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

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

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

"Won't deny it."

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

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

"This one's on the house."

His eyebrows shot up. "You sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: are you still up

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry about this

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: but my car won't start

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im still out in your parking lot

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

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry to ask this

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

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: just real quick i swear

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

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

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

@Thomas_Jefferson is typing...

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

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

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: im so sorry

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

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

Once again, her phone pinged.

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: thank you

@Thomas_Jefferson sent: ill come to your door

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

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

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

He grinned. "So self-centered."

She scowled. "Go back outside."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Everything ok?"

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

"Yeah, d'you want the number?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still, sweetheart. Thank you."

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

"What should I do with my coat?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See anything you like?"

Her voice made him turn, matching her smile as he accepted the glass of wine. "I just might." His playful wink as he looked her over made her laugh. "Thanks for this, by the way."

She shrugged as he nodded to the drink she'd poured, lifting her own glass to her lips. "It's no Sassicaia, but it does the trick."

He took a sip, the corners of his lips quirking up. "Could be worse."

Though her gaze drifted to the bookshelf before him, she laughed lightly. "What high praise," she commented dryly.

"Isn't it?" Thomas grinned, glancing down at her, and she rolled her eyes. Her reaction didn't seem to deter him, though. "'M kiddin'," he reassured her, as though she'd taken any sort of offense at the statement. "Really, hope you know how grateful I am for all this."

His tone was light as he gestured to the room around them. While he seemed unfazed, Y/N couldn't help but feel absurd, as though the whole situation still could've been some strange, lucid dream.

"Ah, yes, I'm such a guardian angel," she agreed, tone dry with sarcasm. "I've provided an old mattress and an eight-dollar bottle of wine. You really struck it lucky."

He gave a cheeky grin. "The company more than makes up for it."

She scoffed, shaking her head, but she didn't suppress her growing smile. "You really owe me big, then."

"I'll find a way to pay you back."

She took another sip of her wine, and for once, the warmth blossoming in her chest wasn't just fast-acting heartburn from having cheaped out on dollar-store alcohol. She watched him another moment, waited to speak until he finally met her gaze. "Anything on my bookshelf holding your interest?"

His shrug revealed next to nothing. "No surprises here."

"Oh, because you know my taste in literature so well?" Her skepticism made him smile. Really, any resistance she provided didn't come from him being incorrect, but instead from how uneasy his discerning gaze made her; he spoke as though he could see right through her, as though he'd long since figured out what makes he tick. She couldn't help but feel exposed.

"You're easier to read than you think, sweetheart." She didn't answer, but instead raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to go on. "Keats, Austen, Plath..." He quirked a brow. "... seven different copies of The Princess Bride."

"Hey, it's a classic!" she defended, and he laughed.

"'Course it is." He took a sip of his drink, eyes shining. "It's interestin', though."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Rest of this apartment is almost completely bare, but this bookshelf is almost overflowin'."

She cocked her head. "Care to enlighten me on what makes that so interesting?"

"'S just predictable." He shrugged, his gaze turning to Y/N with a small smile. "Says somethin' about your priorities, huh? Nothin' you need straightened out."

His wink made her grin. "And who gave you the right to come into my home and judge my lifestyle?"

"Hey, I'm just validatin' you," he defended. "Besides, last I checked, you gave me that right by invitin' me up here."

Y/N huffed at how pleased he looked with himself, going to take a seat on her couch behind him. He raised an eyebrow as she did, and when his gaze followed her, he found himself turning, leaning against the bookshelf as she addressed him. "Don't make me regret it when you've hardly been up here for ten minutes."

"Aw, but I'm touched by how much you care, savin' me from the storm."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I didn't want you to freeze to death, try not to let it go to your head."

"But sweetheart, you saved my life; how could I not be forever in your debt?" At that point, he was playing up his gratitude, having plastered on a full pout, wearing a wistful expression, and Y/N hoped in vain that her amusement didn't show on her face.

"Don't be so dramatic; I just saved my career." She hid her smile behind the rim of her glass.

"C'mon, do I really mean that little to you?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

He laughed, coming back around to join her on the couch. "I'm gonna let that one go, just cause I know you don't mean it."

"...Right." The couch cushions dipped beside her as he sat, and she shifted, turned to him, pulling a leg up beside her onto her seat. He raised a dubious eyebrow before taking another sip of wine.

"You really expect me to believe that?" While his voice was light, the question itself wasn't in jest. The fact that she chose to ignore her adamant attraction to him didn't make it any less obvious, apparently -- it was forever bubbling just below the surface, hanging tense in the air between them. She sighed.

"Alright, I guess you caught me. It's true, my motives aren't purely selfish. I confess." She looked him in the eye with faux solemnity. "I'm also trying to save James and Dolley from having to plan a funeral."

He only shook his head, amused. She was deflecting again, and not subtly, either. Thomas was trying to tread lightly, but she wasn't making it easy on him. "Ever the humanitarian."

"I do try." His gaze was growing empty as she held his eyes. He looked as though his mind was elsewhere. When she drank more of her wine, eyeing him, he hadn't moved a muscle, his expression was blank. "Thomas?"

He blinked hard when she waved her hand in front of him, forcing a wide smile. "Sorry, sweetheart, just spaced out a minute."

"What are you thinking about?" The question was innocent, but it made him tense. He shrugged, pausing a moment.

"Just wonderin' where you got that century-old book of Bryon poems hidden." Though she raised an eyebrow, she tried not to let her skepticism pervade her expression. He raised an eyebrow. "You clearly don't have it packed into that same old bookshelf. Lose it already?"

"Not quite yet." She elected to ignore how he was deflecting in turn. "It's at my beside. I was doing some light reading last night."

"Enjoyin' it?"

"So much." Her excitement was genuine, then, when he raised a brow; her eyes were shining. "D'you know it's been annotated by like, seven different people? It's so interesting, seeing different interpretations from the past hundred years."

His lips quirked. "And what'd you think of my notes?"

"Some of those were yours?"

He nodded. "Everything in purple."

"You have pretty handwriting." When he grinned outright, her gaze drifted to his mouth a moment. She caught herself before he could react. "Anyway, I thought you said no one had read that in almost fifteen years."

"'S cause no one had. Those annotations were all the way back in college."

She raised her eyebrows. "Now, I definitely didn't expect you to be a fan of Byron."

"Oh yeah?" He crossed one of his legs over the other, shifting to face her, and draped an arm over the back of the couch. He looked curiously at her. "Why's that?"

"Definitely didn't take you for a romantic."

"Hey, now." His offense was entirely a facade, and his smile despite it didn't help his case. "I'm hurt. I've always been a romantic."

She snorted out a disbelieving laugh. "I'm sure you have."

"I'm not kiddin'!" he defended, but her clear skepticism amused him regardless. "'M a sentimental person."

"Could've fooled me."

"And why's that?"

"I dunno." She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink as she glanced at him. While his tone was lighthearted, his gaze was inquisitive, searching -- he didn't respond, letting the silence stretch on, and she felt as though she owed him an answer. "You're just so... laid-back and carefree. You're all confident, and brash, and have a flair for the dramatics. I guess I wouldn't have pegged you as a softie."

"I like to think I'm pretty empathetic." His voice was soft. "I've devoted my life to public service, to makin' people's better. You've gotta be compassionate to put the time and money into runnin' for president, right?"

"Or you have to be power-hungry," she contended, and though her tone was light, he creased his forehead.

"'S that really what you think of me?"

With how he was looking at her, bordering on hurt, Y/N could feel guilt building at the back of her throat. She'd come into her current job with so many preconceptions about him that she couldn't have known whether were true, but she hadn't hesitated in entertaining the ideas regardless. "Not anymore." She was sure she looked as embarrassed as she felt. "But I may have made some unfair assumptions, once upon a time."

He gave her a mild grin. "Don't sweat it; it goes both ways."

"Excuse me?" She sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow, and he only seemed amused as he regarded her.

"Oh, you're actin' all offended, now?"

"I am offended."

"You shouldn't be." She squinted suspiciously at him as he continued. "Never thought you were a bad person, or anythin', just didn't expect all this from you." With his words, he gestured to the room around him, and she was slow to reply.

"What d'you mean?"

"Lettin' me stay so late in your diner, takin' me in with the storm out there..." He trailed off, shrugging. "You're bein' more generous than you're givin' yourself credit for."

"To be fair, you would've been able to get home without a problem if I'd just kicked you out earlier."

"But you didn't." How perceptive he'd suddenly become had her shifting in her seat. "Feel like I owe you for it."

She smiled bashfully, sipping her wine. With how he was looking at her, heat had begun to rise in her cheeks. "Really, Thomas, it's not a big deal. It's the least I can do."

"It means a lot, though. Really. Didn't have to do any of this for me." His gaze roamed her apartment thoughtlessly, and he wore a small smile. Her eyes were fixed firmly on him all the while, drinking in his expression, the smallest details of his face, from the little patch below his ear he'd missed while shaving, to the stray curl that always seemed to fall across his forehead. "Thank you, Y/N."

What happened next caught them both off guard, despite how slow, gradual, even how nervous it was.

Her action was unexpected, but not sudden, and for once, Y/N didn't think about it. She just acted. He'd turned back to her in surprise when her fingertips grazed his stubble, no longer caught up in eyeing the room around them, and before he said anything, she was leaning in, kissing him.

The action wasn't rushed, and at first, it was chaste -- he was breathless, kissing her back without thinking twice, and his hand rose to cup her cheek, following her movements.

It took him a minute to pull away, and when he did, Y/N backed off immediately, wide-eyed. "Sweetheart--"

Her stomach dropped. Rejection hadn't been an outcome she'd considered, not after how he'd been coming onto her time and time again, not after the other night, with how frankly he'd asked her what she was looking for from him. "Shit, Thomas, 'm sorry." Her apology was breathless. "I... I didn't mean to make you--"

But he didn't let her go on, his hand moving from her cheek to the nape of her neck, stopping her from retreating to the opposite side of the couch as she lay her glass of wine on the coffee table. "Is this what you want?"

His question made her freeze. He wasn't shooting her down; his eyes searched hers, and she swallowed roughly. "Yes," she breathed. Another beat passed. She bit her lip, waiting for him to react, waiting to see what he'd say or do, but he didn't move.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm. "'Cause if you're gonna run out, rebuke me again, I can't--"

"I'm sure." She didn't waste another moment in pulling him back down to her, pushing herself across the couch, closer to him, and as her lips again met his, he discarded his glass, instead tugging her onto him by the waist.

She pulled him close that time, abandoning her hesitance. He didn't want to stop her, either -- not when her arms snaked up around his neck, not when she swung one of her legs over his, straddling his lap, not when she knit a hand into the curls at the base of his neck, and his self-control was fleeting as he bit down on her bottom lip, making her moan. But despite how she was kissing him, despite the sheer desire in her actions, his concern hadn't subsided.

When he held her face just inches from his own, thumb tracing patterns into the top of her hip, her stare was saturated with surprise. "Y/N, really," he started, worried. She raised her eyebrows. "I've gotta know--"

"I've thought this through," she cut him off firmly, rolling her hips teasingly down against his, and the action made him groan. "I want this. I want you. I'm not going to regret this; I'm not going to run off. If you want me to stop, tell me, tell me now, please, but I swear, Thomas. I know what I want." She'd withdrawn a hand from where it hung at his upper back, instead running it down to the top of his chest, her fingernails ghosting over his shoulder, across his collarbone. "Do you?"

There was a skip as he paused, but when he found no reservations in her gaze, only reckless abandon and want, his mind was made up.

"Beyond a doubt." His words were hardly a whisper, lost quickly in both of their rising thoughts, in the growing cacophony of pleasure as her lips returned to his without hesitation, lost in the rising sighs and low moans as she pressed up against him, and finally, finally, they both stopped thinking and overthinking, doubting and hesitating.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away as Y/N tugged on the tie Thomas still wore, as he pulled her closer by her waistband She was breathing heavily when his lips found her neck, shivering when his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin, when his fingertips dug into her hips. It was easy for her to lose herself in him, after weeks of waiting and wanting and wishing, and easier still when she pulled on his soft curls, making him groan against her skin, when his grip on her tightened as she ground her hips down against his.

She could feel him shudder underneath her when his hips jerked, when he pulled her down against him, when she let out a soft whine. By that point, his tie was sloppily loosened, hanging crooked around his neck, and Y/N had managed to undo the first few buttons of his shirt despite how preoccupied she'd quickly become.

She had no caution left to cling to. She'd shaken him off time and time again; she'd rebuffed his unshakeable audacity, but it took her until he backed off to realize what it was she was really looking for.

Something about it all scared her, made her heart race and her head spin, but as his hands traveled further south, her pulse spiked, and she couldn't bring herself to mind it. He asked where her bedroom was; her answer was just a murmur between hot, fervent kisses as he returned to her mouth.

She knew she wouldn't regret this all come morning. She wouldn't regret it two days later, nor two weeks later, the risk of it all only compounding upon the excitement. With his skin against hers, with him picking her up by the thighs, making her yelp as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, she was struggling to remember that there was any big picture to it. There would always be her job. There would always be the election. There would always be their nosy mutual friends and a bloodthirsty political landscape. But just then, in her low-budget apartment with her secondhand furniture, as the blizzard raged on within six inches of her warm, comfortable living room, as all of Washington D.C. was buried under a cloak of snow, as frozen in space as it felt in time, the two of them were all there was.

#hamilton #hamilton x reader fic #hamilton x reader #hamilton x reader smut #hamilton smut #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfiction requests #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton scenarios #hamilton scenario #hamilton imagine #hamilton imagines #hamilton x reader imagines #hamilton x reader scenarios #hamilton x reader imagine #hamilton x reader scenario #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson imagines #thomas jefferson scenario #thomas jefferson scenarios #thomas jefferson smut #thomas jeffershit #jefferson x reader #jefferson x reader smut #thomas jefferson x reader drabble #thomas jefferson oneshot

[ma-sulevin]

Fuckuary Day 3: “Wanna Taste?”

Benjamin Fox x Gwen Porter ( @roguelioness​ ) rated E

Words: 2,074

---

There aren’t a lot of things Benji likes more than letting himself into Gwen’s apartment at the end of a long shift and finding it full of the scent of baking cookies. If you asked him directly, the only thing he’d be able to say he likes more is Gwen herself, especially when she’s in shorts and a tee against the heat of the oven, her hair in a bun and flour on one cheekbone. She must have a big project due soon, because it looks like she’s been working in the kitchen for a while.

She’s humming along to the music on her phone when he walks into the kitchen, but she doesn’t turn to greet him. She’s too wrapped up in the icing she’s making, the sound of the mixer covering up his footsteps, so he leans against the doorframe to watch her with a smile.

He doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to be able to call her his, but he soaks up every minute he can. Now, as the song gets to her favorite part and she does a little dance, he lets his gaze drop to her hips, then to her bare thighs, and he smiles as warmth fills him.

If she’s already procrastinating something anyway…

She jumps when he puts his hands on her shoulders, startled enough to let out a cute little squeak, but she relaxes once she looks up and sees him grinning down at her.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he says. “You didn’t hear me come in.”

Her cheeks are stained pink now, and that color blooms when he slides his hand from her shoulder over her throat, then to tilt her chin up higher so he can bend down and press a kiss to her lips. She gasps against his mouth and pushes up onto her toes to get closer to him, and the mixer whirrs to a stop as she flicks the button.

She ducks her head when he breaks the kiss, embarrassed, but she still turns in his arms to face him. 

“You busy?” His voice is lower than he meant it to be, a little deeper, but the effect it has on Gwen is almost immediate. Her blush deepens and she bites her lower lip, swaying forward until she’s resting against him. It makes the warmth from earlier flare up, bright and hot, a wanting that he doesn’t think will ever go away.

She shakes her head. “I guess I lost track of time. I was trying to get these iced before you got here.”

Benji keeps his hands on her shoulders as he looks around at the kitchen, taking in the way it’s buried under cooled cookies and dirty dishes before he looks back down at her. “Are you trying to give a cookie to everyone in the entire town?”

She kicks at his ankle with her bare foot. “Baking relaxes me.”

“Hmm.” He nods like he’s being serious, but instead of leaving her to it, he reaches down and lifts her up onto the counter so their faces will be closer together. She squeaks again, clutching at him, then laughs when her body is steady and he’s pushing her knees apart so he can stand between them. “You know what else relaxes you?”

She’s already staring at his lips. “What’s that?”

“Me.”

He beams at her when she starts to laugh, proud that he’s the one to bring that sound out of her. She rests her hands on his arms and squeezes a little, still smiling, and tilts her chin so he’ll know she wants him to kiss her.

He does know, but he doesn’t kiss her. Instead, he looks over her shoulder at the icing. “Is that all mixed up?”

“What? Oh.” She looks down at it, then back up to him. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Is it good?” He reaches past her and dips his first two fingers in the icing, just the littlest bit, and comes back with a good sized sample. “Wanna taste?”

She draws in a sharp breath when he offers his fingers to her, but she barely hesitates before leaning forward and drawing them into her mouth. Her tongue traces over the pads of his fingers, cleaning the icing off until he’s sure there’s none left. He stares into her eyes as she sucks on his fingers, watching her pupils widen, feeling almost dizzy as all the blood in his body rushes to his dick.

“Fuck, baby.”

She releases his fingers and grabs him by the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. She tastes like the vanilla icing, sweet and sugary, and he’s tempted to tug her shorts off right there in the middle of the baking supplies. Instead, he slides his hands down her legs to her calves, guiding her to lock her ankles behind his back, and then he lifts her again.

She’s small enough that it’s easy to carry her through her apartment to her bedroom, to turn and sit on her bed so she can rest in his lap and feel how crazy she makes him. She moans as she settles against him, rocking her hips in a steady grind that makes him groan into their kiss.

She buries her fingers in his hair and he palms at her ass through her shorts, squeezing and guiding her to move harder against him.

She only breaks the kiss when he moves his hands up under her loose tee, smoothing up her spine and then scratching down over her ribs when she reaches down to pull it off over her head. She drops it to the floor as he turns his attention to kiss down her throat to her chest, then she scratches over his scalp as she runs her fingers into the shorter hair on the back of his head.

He flips them then, rolling them so he can pin her to the bed with his hips on hers. She gasps as they spin, then laughs against his lips as he leans down to kiss her again. 

He just can’t get enough of her. The need is overwhelming, all-encompassing, and he can’t fight it. He doesn’t even try -- he just gives in, kissing her until they’re both breathless, until she’s boneless under him. 

She stretches her arms up over her head when he finally leans back enough to get her shorts off, and she bites her lower lip when he moves off the bed to kneel on the floor. He tugs her along with him, until she’s close enough to the edge of the bed for him to kiss her thighs without straining his neck.

“Benji…” Her voice is quiet, heavy, a note of pleading under the desire. He smiles up at her, meeting her eyes as he kisses higher. “Please?”

“ ‘Please’?” He knows what she wants but echoes her words anyway, just to watch the way it makes her squirm. Instead of answering, she reaches down and grabs the top of his head, pushing a little to get him to go where she wants him.

And he’s never been able to say no to her.

Her taste bursts across his tongue and her fingers tighten in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him moan again. He buries the noise between her thighs and holds onto her hips so she won’t be able to squirm away from him. 

The noises that fall from her lips are some of his favorites, and he could kneel on the floor between her thighs and listen to them for hours. He’ll have to try that, one day, when they both don’t have to work. Just to see how many times he can make her come on his tongue before she begs him to stop instead of to keep going.

Today, though, he’s on a mission to get her off as fast as possible, and she’s making it as easy as she can. Her thighs start to shake on either side of his head and it’s too much for him -- he can’t stop himself from reaching down with one hand to yank at his belt and the fly of his jeans until the material pools around his knees and he can finally wrap his fingers around his dick for some relief.

He squeezes himself and groans aloud, redoubling his efforts on Gwen until she suddenly pulls his head away from her with an insistence he doesn’t usually see. He sits back on his heels and blinks up at her, confused.

“Are you okay?”

She sits up and stares back at him, then drops her eyes down to where his hand is still working between his legs. When she meets his gaze again, she takes a deep breath before she finally says, “Yeah. Yeah, I just… I want…” Her expression is pleading, and he knows what she wants without her having to spell it out for him.

He pulls his shirt off over his head and wipes at his face as he stands, kicking his jeans off the rest of the way before he moves to crawl on the bed. Gwen scoots back up to the pillows as he moves over her, and she meets him there with a smile and a soft kiss that turns into something deeper and messier as he presses inside her.

She’s soaked, on the edge already, and she clutches at his arms as he bottoms out with a groan.

“Fuck.” He pulls away a little so he can look in her eyes, so he can watch the way they flutter shut as he pulls out and pushes back in slow enough to tease them both. “You miss me today, baby?”

She nods, fast, and clenches around him as he thrusts again. He brushes her hair away from her forehead and then guides her face back up to his for another kiss. 

He sets a steady pace, fast and deep the way she likes it, watching the way her tits bounce with each thrust, the way she arches her back and holds tight onto him, listening to the way she whimpers and moans each time he completely fills her.

It’s almost too much, and he can feel himself getting too close to the edge. She feels too good, wet and hot, but he needs to feel her unravel under him.

“You feel amazing,” he says, just because he knows the compliment will make her clench around him again. He groans when she does, drawn even closer, and more compliments spill out of him as he continues. “You always get so wet for me. You’re fucking perfect.”

Gwen’s eyes open and she looks up at him, her lips parted, her eyebrows furrowed. She’s blushing from her face down to her chest, desperate and on edge, and the way she scratches at his back let him know she’s too close to fight it.

“Come for me,” he says, trying to make it sound like an order. He fucks into her harder as her mouth drops open on a gasp. “That’s my good girl, come on my dick.”

She does, like the compliment is the thing that did it. She all but screams his name as some comes, and he only manages to last a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s coming too. He bends over her, curling enough to press his face into the crook of her neck as he fills her, a desperate moan dropping from his own lips too.

They calm down together, catching their breath, and he stays buried inside her for as long as he can before he reluctantly pulls out and stretches out on the bed next to her.

She covers her face with both her hands and laughs, and he slips his arm around her waist to pull her against him as she does. 

“I still have to put the cookies away,” she says, and it sounds like a complaint even as her voice sounds fucked out and raw. “And… I do have to finish that piece I’ve been working on this week.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Hmm? Benji!”

He ignores her and rolls back over on top of her, using his bigger body to press her into the mattress as he relaxes. She squirms under him and laughs again, but gives up after a second to just run her fingers through his hair as she relaxes too.

Perfect.

#fuckuary 2021 #my writing #oc: benjamin fox #foc: gwen porter #x: gwenji

[razorblade180]

Nothing to worry about

After many, many attempts to decode the data to find Sora, Riku was spent. A thought came to him that maybe if he messed with data with the difficulties all the way up, then something might change. It had to be his third day screwing up on the same attacks over and over again. He didn’t remember fighting the organization to be this hard! Riku was a prideful guy that managed to beat most of them but enough was enough! He had been stuck on one obstacle for far too long and his hands hurt from hitting the wall the one time he rage quit. It was time to bring in backup, and he knew just the people…

Xion:You want me to want?

Riku:Beat data Xion for me. You’re too strong.

Roxas:It’s a computer…

Axel:Dude, you don’t get to say that when you smash computers instead of pressing keys.

Saix:You What?

Riku:Focus!!! I called you specifically because you’ve fought Xion, fought Sora, and some of you have done both while technically being connected to Sora; so you know how to play him well.

Axel:I feel like you’re missing people.

Riku:People are busy. You are the only ones that are still around a lot.

Xion:Am I really that tough?

Riku:Painfully.

Xion:Hmmm. I’m not sure how I feel about fighting myself. Something about it feels...depressing.

Axel:I’ll do it. I’m great at games! Plus we’ve fought a bunch of times! I know your moves.

Xion:But you lost…

Axel:Still learned them! *sits down* Watch the master!

That was the statement he made. It’s been three hours since Axel had that confidence. Now he was face down on the bed in the committee room along with Riku. If he heard “why do you fight” one more time, he’d lose his mind.

Axel:Since when do you bounce around like a ball of light!?

Roxas:Why are you surprised? I do it all the time.

Axel:I don’t even understand how you do it!!!

Saix:I can’t believe you didn’t even get half health.

Axel:Think you can do better!?

Saix:Nope, but I won’t act like I can to look cool. Xion, I’ve never seen you do half of the things that program does. Is it an exaggeration or…?

Xion:No, it’s possible. Doing all of that just makes me tired.

Saix:...(I never stood a chance in that graveyard. Then again I try not to go full berserk for the same reason.)

Roxas:My turn! I’m not exactly thrilled about fighting any version of you but helping Sora is the goal here. I just hope Cid didn’t program all of your armors. Not a big fan of the second one or you being the size of the central station tower.

Xion:*red* Hehehe...yeah that was pretty wild.

RAS:You can do what…?”

The change of players was getting better results. Roxas was in his third attempt when he started getting a good rhythm. Watching Axel helped, but there was something else. A weird six sense. Riku was right about him controlling Sora, it felt natural. Battling data Xion was the same. The way he predicted her movements were scarily good.

Axel:Wow, look at you go.

Roxas:Sssshhh, I need focus. I wanna do this as fast as possible. It might be data but hurting Xion feels wrong.

Xion:*red* Roxas…

The man makes it to the desperation move. It’s the second time he’s made it here and he wished data Xion had the armors instead! He didn’t last long before another game over screen. Everyone groaned while Roxas rested his head on the wooden desk.

Roxas:Gah! I can’t even begin to understand those patterns. Your columns of light move way too wildly!

Riku:I hate the fact that if you recover from a strike raid then the next one is delayed to change your rhythm! Why are you so smart Xion?

Xion:Sora does that too. It’s how to survive relentless attacks sometimes. I’ve told you all the timing so-

Roxas:Xion, I really don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but you might as well grab the controller. The only person who knows you, is you.

Xion:And Ven, and Namine, you, Sora, Kai- fine I’ll give it a try!

Riku:Thank you.

Xion died immediately going into the fight. All eyes looked at her in disbelief as her face got red.

Xion:I wasn’t ready! Let me get a few warm up rounds in! I have never done anything like this. Roxas, can you go back to Twilight Town and get a small white bag in the usual spot?

Roxas:Okay.

A few warm up rounds turned into a dozen. Riku even saw her scroll through the settings once or twice. Then she wouldn’t do the fight right away. Instead she’d press bottoms to see how Sora reacted and fast. He didn’t want to be antsy but a piece of him wanted to try again. Riku went over to ask when Roxas came through the door to hand her the bag. Xion ran the program again. She reached in the bag as it loaded and pulled out something Riku didn’t know she still had. Her organization gloves.

Riku:You kept those?

Xion:Gripping a keyblade barehanded feels weird. So does messing with computers…

Data Xion:Why do you f-

Xion:Yeah we know the line…

Riku never considered himself good at things like video games or computers, but he didn’t think he was bad either. That was until he watched Xion start moving her fingers faster than he could keep track off. The whole room was silent except for the sound of clicking. Data Sora was moving at speeds and performing tricks Riku and the others didn’t even know about. He wasn’t getting hit at all!!! Axel could quietly hear Xion mumble numbers. A set amount when she attacked, and then a different set when the data version did. The sets kept resting and ending differently depending on what weapon she used or magic. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Axel:H-How?

Xion:How what?

Roxas:How are you doing this!?

Xion:Like you and Riku said. I know me, as well as Sora. I’m only gonna get hit so many times before I find a chance to counter. Also, there’s only so many moves you can program. It’s still just code!

She made it sound so easy, yet Riku. Can only think about how many times late last night he couldn’t figure out a single time to appropriately heal or attack. Yet here Xion is, perfect blocking and interrupting the desperation move. She even found time to take a picture before delivering the final blow!

Xion:Boom! Easy!

Riku:FINALLY!

Saix:You really should’ve gone first.

Xion:But it was thanks to you guys that I was able to watch and learn without stressing out. It was a group effort. I guess we’re done here. Thanks Riku, that was kinda fun. *stands up*

Riku:Ummm haven’t beaten master Xehanort either. Do you think maybe….

Xion:*Sits down* You owe one for this.

Riku:I know a good spot to find the best seashells.

Xion:Deal!

The crew let her get to work on the baldy while they occupied their time. Half an hour passed before they sat around a table eating. Riku looked over to see Xion learning how to deal with every move possible. It looked impossible. Most of the organization did. Another game over screen appeared and Riku sighed.

Axel:You alright champ?

Riku:It might be data, but seeing Sora lose is depressing. I hope he’s alright.

Roxas:Why wouldn’t he be?

Riku:He’s not the luckiest guy. Danger might as well be a spell when it comes to Sora. All of these data fights made me realize just how dangerous the organization really was. The thought of him running into something or someone as dangerous as that alone doesn’t sit well with me.

Everyone:......

Roxas:You know Riku, you can be pretty dumb sometimes.

Riku:Huh!?

Xion:Roxas!

Roxas:What!? All I’m saying is you would think after seeing a program based off of him successfully beat crazy strong people like Xion that you’d have the most faith in his skills. I mean who else do you know has enough different moves to handle so many kinds of fighters?

Riku:....Heh, thanks Roxas.

Roxas:*red* Yeah whatever. Just stating the obvious.

Axel:Yeah! Sora’s alright. I mean he was able to beat me after all.

Saix: If that’s the bar then maybe we should worry.

Axel:Hey!

Xion:I mean we did tie when I was tired.

Roxas:I beat you with amnesia.

Riku:Sora did too.

Axel:Who’s side are you on! This is the thanks I get for trying to cheer you up? Cut me some slack.

The friends shared a good laugh teasing Axel. Even he couldn’t help but join in on it. Riku should know better than anybody just how capable Sora is.

(Wherever you are, I’m sure you’re just fine.)

xxxx

Fine was the appropriate word to describe it. If a Riku or the others used anything more positive then they surely would’ve bit their tongue. If only they could see their friend right now, dodging and struggling on a rooftop under a starry sky dome. A swarm of gigas closed in on our young hero to overwhelm him, but to avail. Sora whipped out a storm flag and slammed it on the ground to summon the watery beast of the seven seas. It’s tentacles whacked away and crushed the gigas flat. Now wasn’t a time to rest though. Yozora, his opponent, wasn’t done yet. Sora saw rapid flashes of red lock in on him and switched to the counter shield.

He hyped himself “Come on!” Spurs shouted. The first attack came from the left, then right. Four more were dead on before another six ferocious slashes came from the left. Collision after collision conjured sparks that lit up the impacts of each attack. Yozora finally thought he had an opening to stab from behind but was sorely mistaken when Sora had already pivoted already and unleashed a barrage of fists that knocked Yazora in the air. Sora leaped up to follow up with a change into the second form. “Get back here!” He pulled his opponent back in with a magnet burst then went right into an ars arcanum. Blades clashed faster than anyone could keep up with before Sora’s ferocity gave him an edge that turned into full blown hits that ended with him spiking Yozora to the ground. As he fell, Sora was shot in the back by a laser that sent him to the metal floor behind. He had no time to dodge the cross slash that connected against his chest. He watched Yozora vanish and switched right into ultimate form to do the same.

This disappearing and reappearing act made their sparks seem more like fireworks. Crackles and pops

Danced up and down the battlefield as each person kept attempting to warp for both offense and defense until Yozora got the better of Sora by trapping in an exploding prism that launched Sora sky high. Yozora finally had room to breath and could plant fis feet long enough to charge his blade. He watched his target recover mid air and unless a salvo of fireballs with double arrow guns. A good idea if it wasn’t so far away that is. “Sorry but-huh!?” A blue light washed over Sora and propelled him directly at Yozora with his attack. Yozora was quick enough to slash Sora away but decided to pull back by backflipping the fireballs; a big mistake. He had underestimated Sora’s speed. Before he could even reach the ground, Sora was already in front of him again. This time with a massive rocket propelled hammer that hit him in the direction of the fireballs. The magic projectiles curved midair to hope in on his location and blasted him right in the chin. This was bad, really bad. To think he’d have this much trouble with someone who looked so clueless moments ago. He had to switch things up and vanished again.

Sora switched to nano arms and stood perfectly still. “Three….four….” he pulled a barrier right as a glimmer of red formed into Yazora that blasted some strange wide shots from his crossbow before vanishing again. Sora turned the machines into yo-yos next and swung straight. “There!” Yozora appeared right as expected and hit dead on. Sora pulled himself to wards and shifted to his frozen blades for additional slashes.

“You’re Just full of surprises aren’t you!?” Yozora grimaced.

“Don’t Give me that look! I didn’t want to fight!” Sora went for a kick but was too slow. Yozora managed to warp behind Sora and summoned a massive red orb that started pulling everything into it.

“Let’s see how you dodge this one.” Yozora turned up the pressure and started warping as fast as possible at Sora again and again, cutting and slashing him cleanly to knock him off balance until Yozora delivered one more powerful slash across his body that sent Sora flying into the orb. He quickly up to it and glided his blade along it to trigger a massive explosion that made Sora scream. Smoke and fire filled the air for a moment. That was a move not even Yozora himself was too good at avoiding. Nobody was gonna get it right from the jump.

Finally, the battle was over. It was longer than expected but the end result was the same. “Sorry, but I don’t lose-” Another shockwave from the explosion accorded suddenly and dispersed the smoke. That’s never happened before. Yozora shielded his eyes and scanned the ground, no Sora. Just black puddles. He dared not walk closer to them when they started to increase in size until a bigger one formed near his feet and Sora hopped out with glowing eyes and drenched in darkness. “This guy…” Yozora mistakenly readied a block for the keyblade as was then punched by Sora’s free hand, throwing him off and into a world of rageful attacks he had no choice but to receive. Sora was fast, too fast. The patterns seemed random. It was impossible to know what to look out for with the addition of kicks thrown in as Sora instinctively warp in numerous spots to bat Yazora around. Any attempt to escape the loop was met with a primal roar that kept the loop going until one final monstrous attack came. Sora went right through Yozora and into the ground. Strange black orbs rose up from bigger pools of black from earlier and detonated repeatedly, leaving Yozora no room to escape.

What was once a dark night turned into blinding light as Sora once again appeared above Yozora’s falling body in a new form; and with two blades. It was hard for him to understand what happened next. All he could see was light and feel the pain it inflicted everywhere as pillars of them struck down around Sora, who remained airborne and glowing. A look of pure grit on his face as he shouted.

“I guess...my power isn’t needed after all.”

xxxx

Xion:I beat him! But...I don’t think there’s anything here that might help. Sorry Riku. I know you wanna find him as soon as possible.

Riku:Hmmm, that’s alright. *smiles* Wherever he is...I’m sure he’s doing just fine.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts remind #xion #axel kh #roxas #saix/isa #axel/lea #kingdom hearts 3 #sora kh #yazora