'i would love to work in that office...'

Make fun of my kid? I'll get you back somehow.

So I am not sure if this belongs in @prorevenge, sense it wasn’t planned on my part. It kind of just fell in my lap. Feels more than petty, so here I am.

For a bit of background: My next door neighbor is/was a college student. She lives with our actual neighbor, her boyfriend. Typical crazy college kid. Weekend parties, drinking on her patio all hours of the night, and weird hours. You know the drill. I figured she was trying to experience college life, so why not? You do you lady!

Anyways one summer night last year she was sitting out on her back patio with her girlfriends doing their drunk thing. I am out wrapping up on some stuff with my toddler daughter. She at the time had a medical thing going on that caused her to walk a little weird. Nothing life altering and something that would heal with time. She did have a weeble waddle to her, especially when running. Sometimes she would fall right over. She was out running around with the dog and the ladies next door were waving and telling her how cute she was. All good.

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My Puppy | 1

Originally posted by rapnamu

CHAPTER ONE

Chapters: [1][2]

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader-First Person View

Genre & Warnings: SMUT, fluff, pet play. 

Word Count: 4,406

NOTE: Pure Filth. Turn back now if you don’t want to see. Turning Tae Tae into my Fuck Puppy (Thanks, Anon). Soft femdom. Let me tell you, it was an EXPERIENCE writing this, and I am still not perfectly pleased with it. Mostly because I’m never happy with my own smut writing. I had to do so much research, so google probably thinks I’m freaky naughty af. Which I suppose I am considering I wrote this lol. So, for those that are hardcore into this and think I didn’t portray it well enough, I’m sorry, I tried. And I learned quite a bit about myself, like the fact that if I ever get my hands on someone like Tae, I am so going to try this. Now enjoy, and excuse me as I go drench myself in holy water to cleanse myself of sin. 


“You know, I hate the winter. It reminds me of your cold heart.”

My now ex-boyfriend mutters this line, looking into the snowy sky. He sighs loudly and saunters off, without looking back. What a fucking drama queen. I can’t help but snort as I watch him disappear into the light snowfall, and wonder what movie he got that line from.

Cold heart.

I don’t have a cold heart. He was just a damn bore. He never wanted to do anything but watch movies and freaked out if I suggested anything besides missionary. I’ve been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks now but was putting it off because I knew he’d cry. This saved me all the hassle.

Note to self: Don’t date actors.

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I love you on a Monday
When the world is too busy hating
When the office is too noisy preparing
My hearts does a somersault knowing you’ll be there waiting
And as I jump out of the car running late,
I love you in between adrenaline rates
I love you on a Monday date

I love you on a Tuesday
As I catch a glimpse of you working
On a requirement due an hour of submitting
I would walk up to you hoping
That you would look up noticing
That despite the colors from an artwork you’re painting
The static from my eyes are still more electrifying
Because yours do
And always will
I love you on a Tuesday

I love you on a Wednesday
When twenty minutes of break feels like seconds
When your smiles feel like weapons
And every word is a powerful opinion
That targets my heart in every direction
Every joke is a doorway
Every moment is on replay
Going home late was suddenly okay
I love you more on a Wednesday

I love you on a Thursday
When I ramble about books and comments
And you don’t care about my looks and nonsense
When you remind me of today’s contents
Of happiness, songs, movies, and events
I suddenly wish I have the power to prevent
The curtains from closing this extent
The hours ending from today,
Your hands on mine promising ‘someday’
And when we reach the finish line of today’s raceway,
Remember that I love you on a Thursday

I love you on a Friday
When everyone is busy planning their night
And me hoping everything is alright
As you walk towards my desk in sight,
As my heart beats faster when you meet the light
From the room’s window where I write
My heart elevates on every flight
Up there it goes beyond my height
But there you go,
You skipped my place
Moving your way towards a girl in lace
My heart fell as you embrace
“Where did I go wrong?” I asked the empty space
Still,
I love you on a Friday’s lonely night case

I love you on a Saturday
When I gracefully tell myself not to talk to you again
When I constantly remind myself I am not your gem
You messaged me then
Saying you had a great weekend
And I love you so much it hurts
The pain gets worse
As I grip tightly at the hem of my shirt
“I’m happy for you”, I silently blurt
Please don’t drift away
Please don’t be another soon-to-end holiday
Not another visitor on a railway
I love you so much on a Saturday

I love you on a Sunday
As you take her hand and introduce her
As my heart beats slow down and blur
When her eyes are what you prefer
And I am nothing as I infer
Only, I know better
That loving you wasn’t guaranteed to be an open airway
Nor was it just an easy hundred-word essay
It was meeting you halfway
It was shards of glass on the highway
It was sacrificing you away
It was already seeing dismay
Yet going for it anyways
I love you not only on the weekdays
Nor do I love you only on Saturdays and Sundays
For I love you and when I do,
I love you every day.

You Drive Me Insane | Oh Sehun

Originally posted by ethereal-baek

Link to Masterlist 

Love/hate drama | Office AU | Mild smut (kind of) 

Summary: In which you and Sehun are co-workers who hate each other and are forced to team up…until an unexpected encounter maybe sort of leads to some confusing feelings….


A/N: I’m on a roll with these scenarios…but who doesn’t love a juicy love/hate relationship? I really hope you enjoy this one, I had so much fun writing it 😉  (Also, bless this gif, it fits the story perfectly)


Your bad day at work started early that morning when you accidently spilled coffee down your pristine white blouse, and could do nothing to fix it.

You prayed that no one would point it out at least until you could borrow someone’s blazer to cover up the stain. But alas, as soon as you quickly began walking towards your desk, you heard a loud voice.

“Is that actual shit on your shirt, Y/N?”

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anonymous asked:

I searched through your blog quickly and didn't see this already asked, sorry if it had been. How would the RFA react to an MC who surprises them by sending flowers and lunch to their work on a hard day? I live for cheesy romance 😂 lol

~Me too…me too. This is like one of the cutest things you can do for your significant other and it really makes someones day! 


◉ Yoosung 

  • His heart had almost burst with love  
  • At first, he thought the delivery must be for one of his coworkers, surely 
  • Until it was placed in his office 
  • He immediately started blushing as he looked over the flowers and food and card 
  • The women he works with started flocking in the doorway 
    • “Oh! Dr. Kim! You’re so lucky to have such a loving spouse!” the girls coo 
    •  “Y-yeah…you’re right,” he rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed and still blushing 
  • In all honesty he was loving the fact that everyone he works with could see how much you both loved each other
  • He felt really lucky 
  • When he is finally alone he lets himself sniff the flowers 
  • And takes a couple bites of the food, savoring the flavors 
  • He closes his eyes and thinks of only you 
  • Practically walking on air for the rest of the day 
  • You’re in for some intense snuggles when he gets home 

◉ Jumin 

  • He had been bouncing around all day
  • From paperwork to meetings to more paperwork to conference calls 
  • The hour had grown very late 
  • And when he heard the gentle rapping on the door followed by the light footsteps of his assistant, he didn’t even bother to look up from his stack of paperwork 
    • “For you, Mr. Han”
  • She placed everything on his desk and left as quickly as she came in 
  • It wasn’t until he smelled the food that he realized how hungry he was, and that he hadn’t eaten at all that day 
  • He smiled happily at the card 
    • Miss you, don’t work too hard my love 
  • Although still busy, he set work aside immediately
  • If you were thoughtful enough to send this for him, he could spare some time to enjoy it 
  • He finished up what he was working on, more quickly than usual 
  • And raced home, hoping to catch you before you fell asleep 

◉ Zen 

  • You knew how exhausting the all day rehearsals had been for him when you decided to send him his flowers and lunch
  • They were just about to break for a bit when the delivery approached him 
  • He was about to refuse, thinking it was from a fan
  • Until he saw the handwriting on the card and recognized it as yours immediately 
  • This is the most excited he’s ever been at rehearsals
  • Aside from actually seeing you there 
  • He was so happy, he started going around and showing everyone your card and what you sent him 
  • Bragging about you to everyone 
  • When he made it to his dressing room he took a selfie for you with the flowers and food in the background 
    • Jagiya…how can you be so cute when i’m stuck here at work! I’m so lucky to have you looking out for me
  • Mass texting you and the RFA as he eats 
  • Bragging again about how delicious it is and how he can ‘taste the love’ 
  • The whole thing revived him for the second half of rehearsal and all he could think about was getting home to kiss you 

◉ Jaehee 

  • This was the last thing she was expecting 
  • The weather had gotten a bit colder so she was swamped at the cafe 
  • On top of the fact that she had never kicked the habit of living from convenience store food she would pick up on the way to work 
  • Which wasn’t the best source of nutrition…
  • And out of nowhere, a man came to the counter carrying a large hot meal and a bouquet 
  • Jaehee almost dropped the milk carton she had been holding 
    • Oooh, someone has a sweetheart,” a customer teased 
  • Jaehee started to blush furiously when the rest of the customers sighed and giggled, and she glanced at her employee so he could take over 
  • She brought it to her back office and sat, immediately drawn in by the smell 
  • Of course you ordered from her favorite food place 
    • Well…a few minutes couldn’t hurt, she thought 
  • Blushing once more imagining you, and how kind you were to do this for her, she savored every bite while staring at the flowers fondly 
  • When the day was finally done
  • She wordlessly collapsed into your arms, tightening her embrace around you 
    • “Thank you…”
  • She nuzzled into your neck 

◉ Saeyoung 

  • He had a habit of overworking at the shop 
  • And…resorting to HBC and PHD Pepper so…you decided finally that he needed to eat something substantial
  • Even if it wasn’t at home 
  • Of course, like the sneak he is…
  • He knew you were ordering for him 
    • (annoying lol) 
  • BUT 
  • That didn’t stop his heart from melting, knowing you were thinking of him so much 
  • Mostly it just made him feel guilty 
  • He waited for the arrival, set the flowers up on his work bench and right after, he called you right away, 
    • “If my honey sends me food, I want you to hear me enjoy eating it!!”  
  • But all the while 
  • He was making his way home to you 
  • You guys were joking around on the phone still when he snuck quietly into the house 
  • Unbeknownst to you 
  • He couldn’t help but scare you, once he saw you sitting on the couch unaware 
    • “Hey!” he screamed, jolted at your shoulders a bit and laughed when you jumped up like 5 feet 
  • Before you knew it he was sitting close to you on the couch, the traces of laughter showing through his warm smile 
    • “I thought…it would be best if we shared this food,” he held the containers out

Ko-Fi│<–Like what you read? You can help support me °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Thank you for reading!

{PART 3} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Thinking that you’re about to be fired, you start panicking about how you’ll survive with no job. Jungkook still can’t answer the many questions he has about you - and he questions himself in turn.

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

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Saw this pic on insta and right away I thought this is what Derek’s loft would look like when Stiles moved in and Derek decided to finish his architecture degree. Derek took care of renovating the place and Stiles brought life to it… wooden ottomans to add a ‘forest’ vibe to the den and started adding color… and then after a long day at work, Stiles finds Derek in his office working on another blueprint, and when Stiles asks what is that about, Derek just says… ‘well, I’m planning another extension to the loft, you know… just in case we might want to… extend our little family to more than just you and me’ and Derek is blushing so much that he doesn’t notice when Stiles comes closer and smiles blindingly at him: ‘sounds good to me, big guy’

Eight years

A/N- Hey! So I’m finally finished all my exams, thank baby Jesus!! Anyway, I’ve been playing around with this for a while. And I’m excited to show this to you all. There will definitely be a part two for this. 

Hope y’all enjoy! 

Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~

Originally posted by cuteguk


You got up and did your daily routine, have a shower, eat breakfast and go to work. You loved your job. You worked really heard and it payed off, you were now the CEO’S right hand man in Kim’s industries. Seokjin your boss and close friend, was taking a step back. He was doing so in order to spend more time with his growing family. You were said cause he was a really good friend of yours, and the thought of working with someone who wasn’t him scared you. What if the new CEO didn’t like you? What if you didn’t like him? So many questions and it wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning. 

You got in to the lift and pressed the number of the floor you worked on. There was a soft melody playing in the back ground, the doors began to close. Suddenly someone stuck there arm in between the closing doors, stopping them from closing and re-opening them. It was a man. He was a masterpiece, he looked like he just walked out of a Calvin Klein ad. He was wearing a black tailored suit, which was obvious because it fit him like a glove.His hair was jet black, swept to the side to show off his fore head. He reminded you of someone, you just couldn’t pin point it. He stopped and stared at you for a moment. You moved a side to let him in. He walked past you and leaned up against the railing. You could fell him staring at you. You felt hot under his gaze. You felt arms snake around your waist. His arms. The beautiful man holding close against his hard chest. You could stay like that forever, but who was he and why did he want to cuddle in the lift?

“E-excuse me, Sir. But I think this is really inappropriate, could you please let me go.” You were a little shaky, you didn’t know who he was. But you could stay in his arms like that forever. Was he going to offer you sex? Like you’d consider it, he was really good looking and you’d say he’d be like a god between the sheets. Y’know what sayin. He chuckled, it was like music in your ears. 

“Really, Y/N/N (Your nick name)? You don’t remember me? He rested his chin on your shoulder, he was pouting. You’d know that pout anywhere. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you’ve turned into such a man.” You turn around his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and giving him a tight squeeze. 

“Handsome, I know right?” He smirked down at you. 

“I think fucking hot. OH MY GOD! Did I just say that out loud.” You try to pull back from him, to embarrassed. But he just pulled you tighter against him, his hands trailing lower down your back. He lowered his face down to your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 

“I think your fucking hot, too.” He whispered in your ear. 

*Flash back* - 

You met Jungkook when you were eight. You became friends pretty fast, never staying a part for too long. It was when Jungkook got his girlfriend that you realised you had feelings for him. As the years went by you understood that Jungkook would never look at you in that way. But why did he have to be so big on skin ship. He may look all innocent and shy, but no, not at all. He was a clingy motherfucker. He was big into cuddling, holding hands, a lot of times his hands would slip onto your ass and he would feel it up. Not that you minded, but you never really thought anything of it, because he was also always touching Jimins ass too. But it’s glories so who wouldn’t. 

The last time you saw Jungkook was at the end of year party, at graduation. He told you he was going to get both of you drinks and to stay right there. When it was hour later and he still wasn’t back, you went to look for him. He was basically fucking the girl that you hated most in the world, she called you nasty names and told you that you would never be good enough for the likes of jungkook. What a bitch. She was the definition of bitch. But your 17 year old little heart broke at the sight, and you ran away. The next day Jungkook texted you, but you didn’t reply. He called, you didn’t answer. He saw you walking down the street home, but you walked faster and pretended not to hear him. Jungkook was a great friend, but you could no longer hold it in. You had to let him go, even if that meant your friendship was ruined. It had to stop. 

*End of flash back*-  

“So how have you been?” He asked. You were relived he wasn’t bringing up the past. 

“I’m good, you?” He smirked, leaning down to your ear again. Does he know what hes doing to you right now? 

“I’m great, now that I’ve seen you.” He whispers. Your breathing hitched in your throat. He smirked…. little cunt. The lift opens, you pull apart from him. 

“It was good seeing you, Kook!” The old nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. He smiled bright, you missed it. 

“Oh, I think you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” He leans back against the railing, smirking. The doors slowly close. 


You get to your office and sit back in your chair with a sigh of relief. Why did he have to be so good looking. Your heart was pounding and that was eight years ago that you were in love with him. You can’t still have those feelings, right? Right. 

A knock came to your door, and in pops Seokjins old assistant. 

“Miss Y/N, the new CEO is here. There will be a meeting in five minutes up stairs, in the conference room.” She informs you. 

“Okay, thank you.” You sigh taking off your coat and making your way to the board room. You take your seat next to your friend Namjoon. You chat to him till the meeting starts. You were anxious to see whom the new CEO will be. The man you’ll be spending a lot of time with. 

“All right everyone, settle down.” The room comes to silence, the door opens. Your looking at your schedule for today. Someone clears there throat. You look up. 

“Good morning, I’m Jeon Jungkook, the new CEO of Kim industries.” Your gobsmacked. No fucking way. This can’t be happening! He can’t be the new CEO. The meeting starts and everyone is in awe with Jungkook. Where as you are counting down the seconds till you can leave. And you thought work was a great place to be…. 


When the meeting finally ends, you  practically run back to your office. You want to try. You lay your head on your desk. You heard a faint knock at your door. “Come in.” You shout, not lifting your head from the table.

“Wow, your office has a great view!” You shut your eyes tight hearing his voice. He was no where for eight years, when you longed for him. And now he’s everywhere. You straighten yourself up. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr Jeon?” His smile fades at your words. 

“Y/N, you don’t have be so formal with me. We used to be so close.” He smiles taking a seat in front of you. 

“That’s true, but I’d rather if we kept this a professional relationship.” You give him a light smile. 

“And we will. But before that, I want you to answer a few questions for me.” Your heart starts to pound. Why is this happening to you? Why did the world hate you? 

“Okay.. go ahead.” You play with your fingers, a nervous habit. Jungkook smirks at it. 

“Why did you stop talking to me eight years ago?” You sigh. 

“Do you want the truth or the easy white lie?” 

“The truth would be preferred.” You take a deep breath. 

“Okay, well.. I was in love with you.” You laugh. “I am, I saw you making out with that fucking cunt that I hated, and it broke my heart. I didn’t want to put myself through pretending that I was okay with it, when I obviously wasn’t. So when you called and text I ignored them, and eventually you stopped. I never wanted you to know, so I stopped talking to you.” You sigh, it was nice getting that out after all those years. 

“Did the boys know?” You finally meet his gaze. 

“Just Yoongi and Jimin.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Things could of been different.” He states. 

“I told you I didn’t want you to know. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship, with my one sided love.” You giggle. “It did anyway.” You laugh again, not really knowing why. 

“Y/N, things would have been, could be different, because I-” Jungkook sentence gets cut short as your assistant comes in. 

“Miss Y/N, Mr Lee is here.” You sigh. 

“Already?” You get up smoothing out your skirt. “I’m sorry, Mr Jeon. But I have work to do.” You grab Mr Lee’s file and leave Jungkook in your office. 

“I love you, too.” Jungkook sighs. 


A/N- So message me if you want a part two. I’m quite happy with this. Hope you all enjoyed. Thank you from reading and for reaching 200 followers!! I love you all, thank you xx 

-Admin Abe x 

anonymous asked:

#74 + Sterek, please!

74. “It’s been 10 years how do you still look so good?”

High school reunions are suppose to be an event where kids who were awkward in high school get to show off how successful they are. Stiles had spent most of high school looking forward to the fact that he would eventually be successful and he could rub it in everyone’s face. 

He had gone off to school in D.C., gotten recruited by the the FBI and the CIA, and eventually joined up with the CIA. He spent the ages of 22 to 26 working undercover ops overseas. 

It wasn’t a job he could brag about though. Most of his work was top secret, need to know only. 

His dad thought he was working for a bank that had him stationed in England. It was a great job, he loved it even if he did miss his dad. 

When he was 27 he was involved in a hostage situation in Tunisia. When he got out the CIA decided that he could stay stateside for awhile. He was excited until he realized that meant he would be able to go to his high school reunion. 

“Come on Stiles, you haven’t been home in years,” Scott said, “Not since my wedding.”

“I know buddy,” Stiles said, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of an excuse, “But we have a huge uh, thing at work. I can’t get out of the office.”

“Stiles come on!” Scott whined, “I heard that Derek Hale will be at the reunion.”

“Hard pass,” Stiles said, looking over his shoulder. It was habit at this point, making sure he had every exit covered. 

“Don’t you want to meet your goddaughter,” Scott said, pulling out the big guns to get Stiles back to Beacon Hills.

“Fine,” Stiles said after a moment, “I mean I have to clear it with my boss, but yeah fine.”

He could hear the smile in Scott’s voice, “Awesome! I’ll tell your dad.”

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an au in which jack contemplates abandoning his dream for the sake of his mental health

(An idea that popped into my head after re-reading this scene and noticing Jack’s hesitation while discussing going into the NHL.)

CW: coming out, anxiety, fear of being outed and/or staying closeted, talks of toxic people and mentalities 


“Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth it.”

Bitty looked up at Jack. They’d been sitting out on the roof for near half an hour now, and Jack hadn’t said a word in all that time. Bitty had talked some, had tried to fill that silence with idle chatter, but after a while he’d given up and let his own thoughts drift elsewhere.

“If…what’s worth it?” Bitty asked, afraid of the answer.

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“Maybe I’m lovesick.”

Requested by @tomshollandss in this ask! 

Summary: Tom gets the flu, complains, and relies on you to take care of him. 


Sickness is an exotic concept to Tom, as he rarely gets sick. He lives a healthy lifestyle: eats enough, sleeps a proper amount, and exercises frequently. He’s good at a lot of things, but Tom is not good at being sick. 

Yesterday afternoon, he first started complaining about his runny nose and sore throat. Later that evening, he had obtained a low grade fever and was starting to sneeze and cough. Overnight, he barely slept, plagued by congestion, chills, and muscle aches. 

Today, he begged you to take care of him. How could you say no? With his pleading brown eyes, messy hair from his restless night’s sleep, the baggy gray sweatpants that made him look so cuddly, and his red nose that he sported from the constant blowing… you complied.

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Sugar, Sugar

A/N: It’s so late and so I will make this quick. Thank you to @celestial-writing for literally helping me cultivate every aspect of this fic. I’d be lost without her. Also, @minhosmeanhoe for throughly editing this for me  and for also being my late night partner in crime.

warnings; none

Word Count: 2876

Originally posted by dylanobrienisbaeee

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Idiot, Whore, Liar

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Request: None.

Summary: Scandal!AU: You work through your own issues while trying to fix someone else’s.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, political assholes.

A/N: I love this show, so I thought it would be fun!

Tagged: @pearltheartist

Word Count: 3071

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reuters.com
Exclusive: Trump says he thought being president would be easier than his old life
He misses driving, feels as if he is in a cocoon, and is surprised how hard his new job is.

President Donald Trump on Thursday reflected on his first 100 days in office with a wistful look at his life before the White House.

“I loved my previous life. I had so many things going,” Trump told Reuters in an interview. “This is more work than in my previous life. I thought it would be easier.”

(cont.)

This pathetic manchild thought being president of the most influential country on the planet would be easier than licensing his name to a bunch of buildings around the world and hosting a reality show where C-list celebrities raise money by calling their friends for donations under the guise of putting together various events.

But wait. It gets worse: He handed out maps of the 2016 election to the three reporters.

“It’s pretty good, right? The red is obviously us.”

He’s still living for the election because it’s the only thing that makes him feel good about himself. I would pity him if I didn’t loathe him so much. I don’t hate him as much as I hate his voters, but the disgust is still palpable.

The reason I don’t respect anyone who voted for him is they still haven’t changed their mind. I’m so unbelievably embarrassed by this orange toddler and they’re sticking by him as if this is normal behavior *for anyone* let alone the President of the United States. I would probably spit on you if you were on fire if you were a Trump voter who said, “You know…I’m sorry. I got caught up in the promises to make America great. Anyone would be better than this.” But since that’s not the case, all I have is lighter fluid.

I can’t believe this dimwitted chowderhead has the entire planet paying attention to him.

Steve Rogers and his Soulmate AU

•You could see brief glimpses into what actions your soulmate was doing.

•What you usually saw was tall buildings in a area you never seen before.

•But for sure you knew your soulmate was around Washington DC.

•Brief glimpses of the Captain America section at the Smithsonian was the first glimpse you ever saw.

•These glimpse you assumed, happened when there was usually intense emotion relating to the action that you were seeing.

•Because many nights you awoke in cold sweat from glimpses of brawls and fights with the most notorious villains.

•Was your soulmate some hero or something?

•You quickly shook off the thought because what odds do you have with a hero?

•With your luck your soulmate was probably a villain.

•Now when Steve saw glimpses they weren’t at all as violent as his.

•He feels bad you have to see all of his most gruesome glimpses but if your his truly destined, you would understand in the end right?

•Happily Steve saw the majority of the glimpses of dogs.

•I guessed his Soulmate really loves dogs?

•But besides dogs he also saw bills, test scores, and job applications.

•Steve assumed you were a soon to be college graduate looking for jobs.

•One glimpse he saw a application to Stark’s business with an approval letter.

•You were going to work for Tony!?

•Tony didn’t know much about Steve’s Soulmate, but when he came into his office proclaiming that his Soulmate might have been newly accepted into his business he had to help.

•Walking to your university you grabbed your regular cup of coffee from the shop.

•On your way out you bumped into a tall figure, but without looking up you mumbled a quick apology before exiting.

•You weren’t rude or anything but you saw the prettiest looking Shepard dog across the street and you HAD to go and pet it.

•"So do you know anything distinctive about your soulmate?“ Tony asked pulling out his computer going through the new applicants files.

•His business employed over a 3,000 a year, this was no easy task.

•"I think they’re from the University around here” Steve mumbled, thinking about the glimpse of a dog that had a shirt with the university’s logo on it.

•Tony clicked on a few buttons, “Alright, were down to 748 people wheeeew…” Tony said sarcastically.

•"What else are they into?“

•Steve was about to reply but then he froze a glimpse coming into his mind of a Shepard dog wagging its tail enthusiastically.

•After a couple seconds Steve returned from his daze and look at Tony who was bewildered.

•"Did your soulmate show you an address or perhaps they were looking at the mirror?”

•Steve was about to fire back a snarky comment, but he looked out the window to see a Shepard dog being petted by someone.

•"Dog.“ Steve simply said before leaving the shop.

•"Your soulmate is… the dog?”

•You were rubbing the ears of the Shepard who quickly laid down for a belly rub.

•When you pet the dogs stomach you got a glimpse of… yourself petting the dog?

•You quickly turned around to see a built blonde man jog towards you.

•"Hey soulmate?“ You questioned shyly.

•"You really like dogs don’t you?” Steve asked with a cheeky smile.

Sixteen Years

Pairing: Lin x Reader

Words: 2820

Summary: You’ve known Lin for sixteen years, and been in love with him the whole time.

Warnings: swearing, awful proofreading because I finished this at like, one a.m. and I think that’s it :)

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever really written. I really don’t know if it’s any good but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it – Skye x


March 19th 2016

“That’s a really stupid idea, man.” you smirked, throwing yourself down on the seat across from him.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Lin asked without turning to look at you. He’d become immune to your smartass comments and your intruding – you lived in the same house but somehow, he considered it intruding.  

“I live here, Lin. I don’t knock.”

“Clearly.” he replied, eyes still glued to his work.  

“Look who’s being the smartass now, Miranda.”

“Oh, bringing out the last name? I’m hurt.”

You laughed, leaving him to get back to his work. The only reason you hadn’t left his office was because you loved watching him work: he got so immersed in his work, almost like he was in a different world. He hadn’t bothered to question what you thought was a stupid idea. He probably didn’t care, you weren’t exactly great at lying to him. Though, Jasmine would probably argue that you were great at lying to Lin.  

Nearly everyone knew about the crush you had on him. Everyone except him. For years you had been enduring the jokes about it, and for a long time you’d been subtly kicking people under the table, but mostly Anthony. Anthony found the fact that you’d lived with Lin for years, been in love with him for most of those years and he still didn’t know was hilarious. He made a point of making a least one joke about it every time he saw you. Slowly, you’d realised that boys really don’t make any sense.  

Lin held everything in your life together. From bringing you coffee during finals week in college to proofreading every stupid draft you’d ever written, he was there. From you making him sleep after two days without any to you dragging the founding fathers with him, you’d been there. Through everything the two of you had been there. There in the place you called home. Despite how messy your apartment was – piles of paper drafts, pens scattered everywhere and the vastly ignored chore chart – it was home. Over the years you’d known Lin, you’d come to realise that home was wherever he was.  


February 23rd 2000

“Hey, uh, are you okay?”  

For hours you’d been sitting in the library, scribbling in a notebook, attempting to draft papers that you had due. You’d been skipping between two of them. By this point your handwriting was so smudged and rushed that even you could barely read it, after years of having to translate the mess to other people. It had been a while since you stopped counting how many people told you that you really needed to sort your handwriting out. You could read it, that was enough. But tonight, you were just too tired.

The guy across from you was looking at you now. He must’ve thought you were deranged; eye bags that were almost black rather than purple, hands in your hair and crumpled up balls of paper surrounding you. Looking up from your drafts you took in his appearance. He looked almost as stressed as you did. You smiled.

“Yeah. Sorry if I look a bit weird, I have papers I need to write and, honestly, it’s not going so well,” you replied. He laughed, getting a glare from the librarian. You almost resented her for the glare. His laugh was brilliant, almost like a child’s. It was happy and made everything feel a little less stressful.  

“I feel you. I’ve been in here all day, I even fell asleep earlier.” you laughed as he continued, “I’m really shocked Ms G hasn’t kicked me out yet. Oh, I’m Lin, by the way. Not that you needed to know, but I thought maybe knowing my name would make me seem like less of some random weirdo annoying you while you’re trying to study-”

“Do you always talk this much or is it a weird stage of sleep deprived?” you joked, smirking as he caught onto his rambling. “I’m Y/N.”  

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” he smiled.


March 9th 2008

“You did it!” you grinned, throwing your arms around Lin as he came backstage. He laughed, picking you up and spinning you.  

“Ugh, get a room.” Karen moaned, watching as he set you back down. You knew she was joking, just one of the many to catch on to your crush on Lin and poke fun at it. As you hugged her you could see Lin making faces behind her. You tried not to laugh, Karen noticed and whipped her head around.  

“Something funny, Miranda?”  

He was still making a face when she spoke to him. You watched as his face dropped, realising the situation he’d just landed himself in. Karen and Lin were like siblings, and Karen was definitely the stone cold big sister, even though she had a heart of gold.  

“No?” he answered, though it sounded more like a question. Karen smirked.  

“The shit I put up with,” she mumbled, walking off and leaving you and Lin alone.

The two of you laughed.  

You were so proud of Lin. In The Heights was on Broadway; his show was on Broadway, the show he’d been working on for years had finally taken off. Looking at him, you realised that he was no longer the kid across the table from you in the library. The kid that had taken the time to check if you were okay, then rambled for what felt like forever. He was different now, but he was still Lin, still your best friend.  

He wrapped his arms around you again. You pressed your head to his chest, listening to his steady heart as you hoped that he couldn’t hear yours racing.  

In those few minutes you spent in his arms you began to wonder if this was the end of an era. Was this the end of three a.m. coffee runs? Was this the end of pissing off the neighbours with playing the piano at ridiculous times of the night? Was this the end of the life you’d become accustomed to? But you kept listening to the beat of his heart and little by little, you realised it wasn’t the end of anything. Lin was still Lin, and that meant coffee at three a.m. and playing the piano ridiculously late at night.

“I did it, Y/N,” he whispered.

“You did it, Lin-Manuel Miranda. You did it.”


June 29th 2013

“Burr always held back, he never pushed forward with his ambition.”

“Are you psychoanalyzing Aaron Burr?”

Lin grinned sheepishly, turning around to look at you. He was sat at his piano, attempting to meet Hamilton deadlines and mumbling about the founding fathers to himself.

“Perhaps,”  

When Lin had decided his next project was going to be a musical about Alexander Hamilton you hadn’t been surprised. You had said: ‘Stupid ideas are usually your best ones, run with it’. Four years later, you had been proved right. Hamilton was one of the best ideas he’d ever had. He frantically tried to meet deadlines and you brought home coffee and books about U.S. history.

“Why am I not surprised,” you mumbled. “You have a point though, dude was pretty messed up. I mean, he ran for president and had like, zero campaign.”  

Lin laughed, picking up his notebook. Usually he’d scribble down the sessions in which the two of you would bitch about the founding fathers. Once, you’d asked him why and his only response was a shrug and an incoherent mumble. Sometimes he’d play drafts for you and you’d hear some of lyrics, that really just sounded like five year olds arguing, and you just knew that those were the ones derived from the two of you moaning about how stupid Alexander was sometimes.

“That he did.” Lin laughed, still writing in the tattered old notebook.  

“Need more coffee?” you asked. It had been hours since either of you had brought some home. For the past week whenever coffee was needed someone, usually you, had to go out and buy some. All because Lin was too lazy to buy more after he had finished the coffee in the house.  

“Yeah, please. Do you think you could get it? I kinda got something going,” he motioned towards his notebook and piano. You nodded, grabbing your bag and you shoes. He waved as you left, locking the door behind you.  

Stepping into the cold air you sighed. Maybe you should’ve listened to Karen all those years ago, back when In The Heights was still in rehearsals and she had asked you what was really the worst that could happen if you told him. But here you were, thirteen years into a friendship with him and still hopelessly in love with the guy.


April 7th 2015

“Y/N, your eyes literally turn into hearts every time you see him. Cartoon style.” Daveed laughed. Renee and Pippa smiling as they warmed up.  

“Fuck all of you guys.” you groaned.  

“Who are we fucking?” Anthony interjected, suddenly appearing in the room.  

“At this rate, not you.” you shot at him. As he placed a hand on his heart, faking hurt you couldn’t help but dissolve into laughter.

Ever since you’d actually admitted to the Hamilton cast that you were ridiculously head over heels for Lin, you hadn’t heard the end of it. They’d all known for ages that you liked him, and had been cracking jokes about it since you met them, but now that you were no longer denying it; it was even worse.  

Daveed was still looking at you with 'heart eyes’ and his tongue out. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, still hearing the laughter behind you. Leaving the room, you went to find Lin.  

After looking for a while and being unable to find him, you sent him a text letting him know that you were leaving – as much as you loved the cast and everyone else, you had your own job to attend to. Plus, hanging around the Public all day made you bored. Whenever Lin wasn’t there you just felt like there wasn’t a point in being there.  

Arriving at your work, you hung up your jacket and started up a conversation with Ella, the girl you worked with most days.

“For April, it is surprisingly hot out there,” you spoke.

“And yet you were still wearing your jacket.” Ella replied smoothly, as though she’d been waiting to say it to you. You smiled at her.  

“It’s me, Ella. Did you expect anything less?” She laughed, handing you her jacket.

“Could you hang that up for me please? So that your coat isn’t lonely.”

“I swear, this is bullying,” you mumbled.

Your day went by quickly, the small bookstore you worked in was fairly busy and even after a seven hour shift it still felt like you had more hours left.  

Walking home in the dark wasn’t so bad. You’d grown used to it, even learning to enjoy the solitude and the freedom to think by yourself for a while. Eventually, your thoughts led you back to Lin. You hadn’t seen him all day and the effect was setting in. You weren’t smiley or chatty. You just wanted to be home, to be in the same room as him for a little while. Just the two of you; no castmates joking about your impending doom and no stress of acting like the feelings weren’t there.  

Just you and Lin. That was all you needed.


August 6th 2015

“You did it! Again!” you grinned as Lin came backstage. It had been just over seven years since the last time you’d done this. Since the last time he’d picked you up and spun you around. The two of you spent a few minutes in the embrace, unwilling to let each other go.  

“It’s been seven years since I last heard you say that,” he smiled.

“I can tell you right now that that’s a lie, but, I’ve been waiting all this time to say it like that again.” you laughed, finally tearing yourself from his arms.  

“God, get a room,” Daveed groaned. You and Lin looked at each other and burst out laughing. Everyone except Chris was staring at the two of you, unable to understand the laughter. When you stopped laughing you figured you owed Daveed an explanation, but didn’t bother. Instead, Chris filled everyone in.  

“Karen said that exact same thing on Heights opening night.”  

“Wow, even in 2008 you guys were all over each other,” Anthony smirked.  

Eventually everyone retreated back to their dressing rooms. You and Lin walked to his in silence. Once inside, he pulled you into another hug. This time, his heart was racing and you could hear it. You had hoped not to cry again that night but you were.  

Everything Lin did amazed you. His talent and his ambition and his ability to make your heart jump with one look. It had been seven long years of stress and tears and crumpled up drafts but here the two of you were again. At the Broadway opening of Hamilton. You smiled into his chest as you made an attempt to dry your tears.  

“Sometimes, I swear you’re the only reason I ever get anything done.” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.  

The tears started again.


March 19th 2016

“Hey, Lin?”

“Yeah, Y/N?”  

This was it. This was sixteen long years of friendship about to be changed, no matter his reaction. You looked at him before speaking. There was the rambling kid from college who sat across from you in the library, there was the man who has held you close on the biggest night of his life, there was the guy who made fun of historical U.S. politicians with you, there was the best friend who somehow disappeared into the Public, there was the Lin who had cried with you in his dressing room, there was the person you were in love with.  

Admittedly, the years hadn’t been all smiles. But regardless, they’d been the best sixteen years of your life. You had become someone so amazing that fourteen year old you would’ve been shocked. Lin had become someone so brilliant that twenty year old you wouldn’t have been able to understand. The two of you had become so astounding.  

“I’m in love with you.” you blurted, surprising yourself. Before Lin could reply you kept going.  

“I’ve been in love with you since you proofread my paper and all you could say was: 'You’re gonna be even more amazing someday’. I’ve spent sixteen years watching girls come and go, scaring them off when you couldn’t get rid of them yourself. Spent those sixteen years wishing it was me. I loved you when you hugged me backstage after Heights’ opening and all I could hear was your heart beating and wondering how you were so calm. I loved you when you were analysing Aaron Burr at four in the morning. I loved you when you spent an hour in my bookshop pretending to be looking at things just to spend your break with me. I loved you when you held me tight and told me I was the only reason you ever get anything done. And I love you right now, looking at you and wondering where the clumsy college kid went but knowing he turned into you and I couldn’t be more proud. I love you Lin-Manuel Miranda and for the first time in sixteen years I can’t bite my tongue about it anymore.”

Before you knew it, Lin’s lips were on yours. The kiss was short, but in the short amount of time sixteen years had spilled onto your lips.  

“I have loved you since you looked at me with the brightest eyes and asked if I really meant it when I said you were brilliant, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Suddenly, sixteen years seemed like just the beginning.

Pavlovian Coffee

Sterek | Office worker AU | ~1500 words | AO3 | Inspired by this post.


Scott smacked him on the shoulder. “Stop staring. You’re going to end up getting our entire department stuck in a sexual harassment seminar.”

Stiles sighed. “No man that handsome should be that grumpy.”

“You’d be grumpy, too, if you had to be Peter Hale’s assistant. Do your work, Stiles.”

“I’m going to make it my job to see him smile.”

“Do your actual work.”

“Sure, sure,” Stiles said, finally emailing off the spreadsheet he’d finished two hours before. Having an office job, he had found, was really just a giant exercise in figuring out how to waste time so his boss would believe he’d actually put “enough” effort into it. He couldn’t help it if he was efficient.

Now he could spend the rest of the afternoon figuring out how to make Derek Hale smile.

***

“I got it, I’ll do Pavlovian coffee!” Stiles said at the bar after work.

Scott gave him an unimpressed stare. “Didn’t that just result in the barista hating you last time? I’m pretty sure they started spitting in your drinks.”

Stiles waved a dismissive hand. “That’s just because Lydia Martin had a stupidly complicated order in high school. The theory is still sound. I’ll just bring him coffee until he associates me with delicious caffeine, and then I’ll get to see him smile.”

“At which point your life will be complete?”

“Yes,” Stiles said decisively, picking up his beer again with a blissful smile.

Scott shook his head. “You’re so weird. You need a hobby.” But then Allison from the third floor arrived and he got thoroughly distracted, leaving Stiles to contemplate his perfect plan in peace.

Keep reading

New Exerpt

I was confident that Bill would be great at parenting. His father died before Bill was born; he knew how lucky he was to have this chance that his own father never had. Still, a lot of men are thrilled to be dads but not so thrilled about all the work that a child requires. The writer Katha Pollitt has observed how even the most egalitarian relationships can contort under the strain of child rearing, and all of a sudden the mom is expected to do everything, while the dad pitches in here and there. She calls it becoming “gender Republicans”—a nifty phrase, if perhaps a little unfair to all the feminist Republicans out there, who really do exist.
I knew that I had enough energy and devotion for two, if it turned out that Bill wasn’t a co-equal in the child-raising department. But I really hoped that wouldn’t happen. Our marriage had always been a true partnership. Though he was governor and then president—jobs that would seem to “beat” a lot of others, if you were the kind of person who ranked jobs like that—my career was important to me, too. So was my time and, more broadly, my identity. I couldn’t wait to become a mother, but I didn’t want to lose everything else about myself in the becoming. I was counting on my husband not just to respect that but also to join me in guarding against it.
So it was a wonderful thing when Chelsea arrived, and Bill dove into parenting with characteristic gusto. We went to the hospital with Bill clutching the materials from the Lamaze classes we had attended together. When it turned out that Chelsea was breech, he fought to be in the operating room with me and hold my hand during the C-section. Being governor came in handy when he asked to be the first father ever permitted by that hospital to do so. After we brought her home, he handled countless midnight feedings and diaper changes. We took turns making sure the parade of family and friends who wanted to spend time with Chelsea were looked after. As our daughter grew up, we both read her good-night stories. We both got to know her teachers and coaches. Even when Bill became president, he rearranged his schedule as much as he could to have dinner with us nearly every night that he was in Washington. And when he was somewhere else in the world, he’d call Chelsea to talk about her day and go over her homework with her.
Our daughter adored her father more and more. As she entered adolescence, I wondered if that would change at all. I remembered how my own dad and I grew somewhat distant from each other once I became a teenager. I provoked him with a lot of fiery political arguments. He was at a loss to navigate the occasionally stormy seas of teenage girlhood. Would that happen with Chelsea and Bill? As it turned out, no. He lived for their debates; the fiercer the better. He didn’t leave me to deal with the “girl stuff”: heartache, self-esteem, safety. He was right there with us.
Did I handle more of the family responsibilities, especially while Bill was president? Of course. This was something we’d talked through before he ran, and I was more than up for it. But I never felt like I was alone in the work of raising our wonderful daughter. And I know a lot of wives of busy men who would say otherwise. Bill wanted to be a great president, but that wouldn’t have mattered to him if he wasn’t also a great dad.
Every time I see the two of them laugh over some private joke that only they know … every time I overhear a conversation between them, two lightning-quick minds testing each other … every time I see him look at her with love and devotion … I’m reminded again that I chose exactly the right person to have a family with.
My marriage to Bill Clinton was the most consequential decision of my life. I said no the first two times he asked me. But the third time, I said yes. And I’d do it again.
I hesitated because I wasn’t quite prepared for marriage. I hadn’t figured out what I wanted my future to be yet. And I knew that by marrying Bill, I would be running straight into a future far more momentous than any other I’d likely know. He was the most intense, brilliant, charismatic person I had ever met. He dreamed big. I, on the other hand, was practical and cautious. I knew that marrying him would be like hitching a ride on a comet. It took me a little while to get brave enough to take the leap.
We’ve been married since 1975. We’ve had many, many more happy days than sad or angry ones. I know some people wonder why we’re still together. I heard it again in the 2016 campaign: that “we must have an arrangement” (we do; it’s called a marriage); that I helped him become president and then stayed so he could help me become president (no); that we lead completely separate lives, and it’s just a marriage on paper now (he is reading this over my shoulder in our kitchen with our dogs underfoot, and in a minute he will reorganize our bookshelves for the millionth time, which means I will not be able to find any of my books, and once I learn the new system, he’ll just redo it again, but I don’t mind because he really loves to organize those bookshelves).
I don’t believe our marriage is anyone’s business. Public people should be allowed to have private lives, too. But I know that a lot of people are genuinely interested. Maybe you’re flat-out perplexed. Maybe you want to know how this works because you are married and would like it to last 40 years or longer, and you’re looking for perspective. I certainly can’t fault you on that.
I don’t want to delve into all the details, because I really do want to hold on to what’s left of my privacy as much as I can. But I will say this: Bill has been an extraordinary father to our beloved daughter and an exuberant, hands-on grandfather to our two grandchildren. I look at Chelsea and Charlotte and Aidan and I think, We did this. That’s a big deal.
He has been my partner in life and my greatest champion. He never once asked me to put my career on hold for his. He never once suggested that maybe I shouldn’t compete for anything—in work or politics—because it would interfere with his life or ambitions. There were stretches of time in which my husband’s job was unquestionably more important than mine, and he still didn’t play that card. I have never felt like anything but an equal. Bill is completely unbothered by having an ambitious, opinionated, occasionally pushy wife. In fact, he loves me for it.
Long before I thought of running for public office, he was saying, “You should do it. You’d be great at it. I’d love to vote for you.” He helped me believe in this bigger version of myself. Bill was a devoted son-in-law and always made my parents feel welcome in our home. Toward the end of my mother’s life, when I wanted her to move into our house in Washington, he said yes without hesitation. Though I expected nothing less, this meant the world to me. I know so many women who are married to men who—though they have their good qualities—can be sullen, moody, irritated at small requests, and generally disappointed with everyone and everything. Bill Clinton is the opposite. He has a temper, but he’s never mean. And he’s funny, friendly, unflappable in the face of mishaps and inconveniences, and easily delighted by the world—remember those balloons at the convention? He is fabulous company.
We’ve certainly had dark days in our marriage. You know all about them—and please consider for a moment what it would be like for the whole world to know about the worst moments in your relationship. There were times that I was deeply unsure about whether our marriage could or should survive. But on those days, I asked myself the questions that mattered most to me: Do I still love him? And can I still be in this marriage without becoming unrecognizable to myself— twisted by anger, resentment, or remoteness? The answers were always yes. So I kept going.
On our first date, we went to the Yale University Art Gallery to see a Mark Rothko exhibit. The building was closed, but Bill talked our way in. When I think about that afternoon—seeing the art, hearing the stillness all around us, giddy about this person whom I had just met but somehow knew would change my life—it still feels magical, and I feel happy and lucky all over again.
I still think he’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever known. I’m proud of him: proud of his vast intellect, his big heart, the contributions he has made to the world. I love him with my whole heart. That’s more than enough to build a life on.
The morning after the election, Bill and I both wore purple. It was a nod to bipartisanship (blue plus red equals purple). The night before, I had hoped to thank the country wearing white—the color of the suffragettes—while standing on a stage cut into the shape of the United States under a vast glass ceiling. Instead, the white suit stayed in the garment bag.
After I delivered my concession speech, I hugged as many people in the ballroom as possible—lots of old friends and devoted campaign staffers, many of their faces wet with tears. I was dry-eyed and felt calm and clear. My job was to smile, be strong for everyone, and show America that life went on and our republic would endure. A life spent in the public eye has given me lots of practice at that. I wear my composure like a suit of armor, for better or worse. In some ways, it felt like I had been training for this latest feat of self-control for decades.
After delivering hugs and smiling so long and hard that my face ached, I asked my senior team to go back to our headquarters in Brooklyn and make sure everyone was OK. One final wave to the crowd, and Bill and I got into the backseat of a Secret Service van and were driven away.
I could finally let my smile drain away. We were mostly quiet. Every few minutes, Bill would repeat what he had been saying all morning: “I’m so proud of you.” To that he now added, “That was a great speech. History will remember it.”
I loved him for saying it, but I didn’t have much to say in return. I felt completely and totally depleted. And I knew things would feel worse before they started feeling better.
It takes about an hour to drive from Manhattan to our home in Chappaqua. I absolutely love our old house. It’s cozy, colorful, full of art, and every surface is covered with photos of the people I love best in the world. That day, the sight of our front gate was pure relief to me. All I wanted to do was get inside, change into comfy clothes, and maybe not answer the phone ever again.
I’ll confess that I don’t remember much about the rest of that day. I put on yoga pants and a fleece. Our two sweet dogs followed me from room to room, and at one point, I took them outside and just breathed the cold, rainy air. The question blaring in my head was “How did this happen?” Fortunately, I had the good sense to realize that diving into a campaign postmortem right then would be about the worst thing I could do to myself.
Losing is hard for everyone, but losing a race you thought you would win is devastating. I remember when Bill lost his reelection as governor of Arkansas in 1980. He was so distraught at the outcome that I had to go to the hotel where the election-night party was held to speak to his supporters on his behalf. For a good while afterward, he was so depressed that he practically couldn’t get off the floor. That’s not me. I keep going. I also stew and ruminate. I run through the tape over and over, identifying every mistake—especially those made by me. When I feel wronged, I get mad, and then I think about how to fight back.
On that first day, I just felt tired and empty. The reckoning was still to come.
At some point, we ate dinner. We FaceTimed with our grandchildren, two-year-old Charlotte and her baby brother, Aidan, born in June 2016. I was reassured to see their mom. I knew Chelsea was hurting for me, which in turn hurt to think about, but those kids are an instant mood boost for all of us. We quietly drank them in, that day and every day after. After sleeping hardly at all the night before, I climbed into our bed at midday for a nice, long nap. I also went to bed early that night and slept in the next morning. I could finally do that.
I avoided the phone and email that first day. I suspected, correctly, that I was receiving a virtual avalanche of messages, and I couldn’t quite handle it—couldn’t handle everyone’s kindness and sorrow, their bewilderment and their theories for where and why we had fallen short. Eventually, I’d dive in. But for now, Bill and I kept the rest of the world out. I was grateful for the one billionth time that I had a husband who was good company not just in happy times but sad ones as well.