Write fanfic with good plot-> 🤮🙄😐
Write solely fluffy self-indulgent fanfic-> 😈‼️😎

P.S: CLEMENT IS MARIA REYNOLDS' MAIDEN NAME, USED HERE BECAUSE THEY ARENT MARRIED!
-

"Angie said to bring the cart back."

"Angie doesn't need to know," you singsonged, and pushed the shopping cart he was in a little harder, causing John to yelp as he crashed into the man next to him.

"Shit, sorry!"

"Don't worry, he's used to it."

"I'm used to it," James confirmed, straight-faced. "And you're not the terrible driver here, John." You smiled lopsidedly when the metal shopping cart hit a particularly rough patch of asphalt and James glared up at you.

"Oops."

John Laurens had a habit of taking pictures wherever you went. Everything he did, everything he was there to see, you'd inevitably receive an adorably cheesy photo update in the group chat. And honestly, with his joyful eyes shining so brightly like twin emeralds, who could complain? Plus, a certain tall, curly-haired man was particularly appreciative of those little photoshoots when he received one with your smiling eyes and wind-mussed hair peering from the background.

Hamilsquad

Spamilton: Hi Y/N in the bg

Spamilton: Don't let jeff find this

OuiOui: he is here u kno that oui

Jeffersnot: JEFF???

Brony...: jeff 💀💀

Peggyy: LMAOAOAOAO

Jeffersnot: PARDON???

Spamilton: Bro said pardon 💀💀💀 hear ye hear ye soundin ass

You: HELPPP

Elizard: alex 😭😭

Jeffersnot: shut UP

In your moment of distraction, you crashed into a man, who sucked in an offended gasp and started spouting a string of flowery insults, punctuated by an equally pompous accent.

"My bad," you muttered and continued walking.

James sighed. "Speaking of 'hear ye'."

John snickered, and you craned your neck to look back at a very irritated redhead, still shouting after you, fading into the distance. "Who was that?"

"Samuel Seabury." Your friend stated matter-of-a-factly, like that alone explained everything, and batted at your hand lightly when you turned back to look again. "Distracted driving is very illegal, Y/N."

"You're right. Jefferson probably wants you back alive."

"Speaking of Jefferson," John paused, and you bit back a sound of amusement. "What do you think of him?"

"Hmm..." You pretended to think. After you successfully maneuvered your cart around a corner, you leaned in a little closer, as if preparing to reveal an important secret. "I think..." John leaned forward with you in anticipation. "...that I can see you filming from your phone, Laurens."

His ponytail bounced defeatedly against the side of the cart as he leaned back with a pout, his eyes tracing your teasing face. "Mannnn..."

James laughed, and his smile gleamed beautifully in the late morning sun. "Nice try, John. We'll get her next time."

"Keep dreaming."

-

"So,"

"So?"

"You've been spending a lot of time with Jefferson lately."

Not this again.

"I've been spending more time with everyone lately." You responded casually.

John wiggled his eyebrows. "Yeah, but extra more time with TJ. I don't recall you having weekly café dates with everyone."

You sigh. "They're not da-"

"Yeah because Peggy totally didn't talk all about how you guys were getting all mushy on the couch for your little study date a while ago. And everyone totally doesn't notice when you guys walk around with matching drinks at the same time every Saturday. And they totally don't notice you wearing what is CLEARLY his shirt every now and then. And they totally don't notice how much more he stares at you when you d-"

"First, we weren't getting mushy. It's called sitting beside each other, and that was mine and Ham's project, not a date. And second, I like that shirt, okay? I don't have a lot of clothes! And we're just trying new shit. Variety is the spice of life, John boy. Also, why would people notice anyway?"

The elevator doors slid open with a ding, and you wheeled your friend out to your dorm suite.

"Thomas is a popular guy, in case you couldn't tell."

"Gee, no way. Your claims hold no water."

He knocked his knees together in the metal basket and shrugs, smiling. "I'm just sayin'."

-

"We haven't done anything as a whole group in a while, huh?"

"Can't be helped," Angelica responded from the table. In a rare sight, her loose dark hair spilled out in ringlets around her shoulders, contrasting nicely with her pink top. "Our schedules clash."

You stretch out slightly in a yawn. "How did you get so many friends anyway?"

"By actually talking to people, dearest Y/N."

"Ouch."

Alex snickered from the couch. You reached into the bag resting on your lap and hurled a pretzel at him. He flinched when it hit him in the nose, sneezed, and then reached down to pick it up from the floor and shoved it in his mouth without hesitation.

"You're both animals."

"I'm mno amimal." His words were muffled through his crunching. "She's the one perching on that counter like a fucking bird."

The oldest Schuyler sister didn't even lift her gaze to look at you. "Y/N, get off the counter."

"I sit where I want."

In perfect honesty, you didn't know how you felt about group gatherings. When you were one on one, it was great. You could act exactly the way they like, not having to look both ways before crossing the road, but with so many people... how do you act? It didn't exactly help that some of the people you had the privilege of surrounding yourself with were sociable to the extreme, almost radiant in a way. People who seemed to thrive amongst others, people who didn't have to monitor every move and sound they produced. How they managed to be so likeable and... individual at the same time, was beyond you.

Who were you when you didn't have anyone to cater yourself to? Through a sea of social cues and nods and nuances, could you really swim on your own?

Strange... You often mused to yourself, after a day of conversation, when you felt like not even your own hands could reach you. For someone who has always said they were sworn to solitude, you're awfully dependant on others.

But, you let them drag you out anyways. Sometimes, you could almost pretend that your engagement with that which you doubted so much was out of selfless, beautiful charitability, the pure intention of just wanting to see them smile and be happy, and not a gritty, desperate desire to belong.

And maybe, just maybe, you enjoyed their company, because as viciously as your own mind weighed you down, the vigour with which they pulled you back always surpassed it.

"Somethin' wrong, darlin'?"
"Hey Y/N, something on your mind?"
"What do you think, Y/N?"
"We'll wait outside for you!"
"Brooding again? Your Prince Charming has been waiting to talk to you all day, you know."

It was both exhilarating and annoying at the same time.

-

"Can you stop eating the whipped cream? God, who raised you?"

"No one," You and Alex answered in muffled unison.

"I don't even know what we expected at this point."
Aaron poked at his pancakes idly with his fork. The 11 of you had finally managed to gather together for a meal, and a certain couple of individuals within the group seemed to regret it deeply already.

James Madison would've been quite content spending breakfast with Burr, had you and Thomas not taken up the habit of staring at them suggestively every minute they were seen together.

He sighed as he watched you turn to wipe a puff of cream off of his best friend's nose, delighting in his seemingly clueless expression.

Only seemingly, because everyone on the opposite side of the table had gotten a clear view of Thomas Jefferson discreetly-not-so-discreetly planting the haphazard glob there just a minute prior.

And his plan worked like a charm. If you noticed, you didn't show it, simply throwing him a teasing remark and revelling in his bright smile.

"Those two make me sick," James muttered. John shrugged, tapping his fingers on his freckled chin.

"Everyone's sick of them already. But I mean, it's kinda cute."

"Mhm." Burr didn't say much past that, but his eyes glimmered with mirth over his coffee cup. James sighed again.

"That's because neither of you has to deal with them-both of them-constantly. I've been considering switching majors just to get away from this mess."

"He's your roommate and best friend of like 12 years. Doubt you're getting away ever."

After your rousing breakfast, you collectively faced your first major hurdle as a group. The car ride back to your rooms. 1 car, 8 ragtag college students, and 3 responsible ones did not make for a pleasant-sounding road trip.

"I don't understand why we can't just walk," Hercules grumbled.

"If we walk, some of you man-children are inevitably going to get sidetracked. And we'll never see you ever again. We're taking the car, besides, it's like a 5-minute drive. You'll be fine."

This proved to be an extremely rare instance where Angelica turned out to be wrong. You'll be fine. After the near-herculean task of wrangling everyone into the Schuyler's SUV, you ended up with this arrangement.

Angelica and Burr sat in the front. You, Thomas, the Marquis de Lafayette, and Eliza were crammed into the passenger seats. Everyone else was shoved into the trunk.

Speaking of Herculean. "Don't they have 8-seater cars now?"

"Yeah, Herc!" Alex yelled from behind you. "They do! Clearly, we don't!"

"Why are you yelling?" Hercules yelled back. "We're right beside each other!"

"God help us all," Madison muttered. Peggy agreed, smushing her face against the back windshield. "We're so getting pulled over."

Although you declined Thomas's "joking" invitation to sit on his lap to save space, he didn't even have the gall to pretend to be disappointed. How could he, when your sides were already pressed so flush against each other that all he could smell was you? His hair tickled your nose, making you suppress a sneeze quite adorably, and you cocked an eyebrow when Thomas proceeded to snake an arm around your shoulders.

"Just savin' space, darlin'."

Lafayette wrinkled his nose. "You, mon ami, are what we call dégulasse. "

By some miracle, you did not get pulled over.

"Suck it, NYPD!" Alex yelled as he stumbled out of the car. Hercules emerged after him and staggered towards the entrance of your building.

"You idiot! If you're gonna vomit, stay outside!"

As your little squad trampled into the elevator and through the hallways to your dorm, you lagged behind a little. "Scouting your six," you'd joked, but the look you shot Eliza easily told her you just wanted to be alone for a moment, and so she gently pulled Thomas aside when he attempted to join you.

After a couple of seconds, you noticed that your friends passed a familiar-looking redhead whose eyes seemed to bulge out of his skull when he saw them rush down the hall. He opened his mouth to yell, and then closed it when he spotted you, in favour of walking furiously in your direction.

You spared him an inquisitive glance when he stopped in front of you, red-faced, with a white-knuckle grip on a yellow notepad.

"Are you with them?"

You think for a moment. "Yeah, I guess."

"Fantastic. Well, I'm Samuel Seabury, a residential assistant of Columbia University. Tell your friends that unruly behavior is not tolerated in the slightest in our academic establishment and that each and every one of them is getting multiple warnings and complaints sent straight to the housing management." You squinted as Samuel scribbled furiously onto his notepad.

Names? And records?

His face contorted smugly, and he enunciated each word with a harsh, clipped tone."I suspect for a certain few of them, this means a permanent exit out of our housing units."

What a fucking dweeb.

You stared at him blankly. You couldn't just attack a random RA in the hallway, as irritating and British as he was. So in an honourable act of glorious, selfless protection towards your friends, you snatched the small piece of paper... and shoved it in your mouth.

The redhead couldn't even react. For a moment, it was as if time froze. There was nothing but you, chewing slowly, staring wide-eyed at an even wider-eyed, open-mouthed Samuel, and the slow thrum of the workings of the building.

And then you were harshly pulled from the vacuum of space when you proceeded with your heroic acts in the only way possible. You ripped his lanyard from his neck and ran.

King's College, also known as Columbia University, had a rich and prosperous history stretching far back hundreds of years ago, and the structure of its buildings often reflected that. The sometimes inefficient heating and water systems, and the rumor that its walls were still coated in lead paint were running complaints amongst the students.

This time, you were grateful for the convoluted structure. As you ducked around corners and upstairs, you could feel yourself losing the fuming redhead.

Unfortunately, he was also the RA. He knew the grounds better than you did, as pathetic of a slow runner as he was, and you knew your victory was short-lived.

I can't leave the building because he'll easily catch me going down the stairs, and he'd know exactly where to wait for me if I used the elevator. The common areas are also downstairs, so that's not an option either. I can't run to my own suite, because that'd make both me and my stupid friends sitting ducks.

With your chest heaving and the sound of footsteps and posh insults ringing in your ears and rapidly drawing close, you panicked. You took one look at an open room, a woman standing in the doorway, and dived in past her.

Before she could open her mouth to exclaim, you hissed desperately. "Close the door just for a second? Please?"

You met her gaze imploringly, getting a good look at her for the first time, and you were absolutely floored.

Intense, dark brown almond eyes framed with long lashes met your own. The bright scarlet of her clothing complimented her perfectly, from her dark, curly hair swept lusciously to the side, to the richness of her skin and the soft pout of her red lips. She exuded an air of bold regality.

She was beautiful in a way you couldn't comprehend, and you were almost glad to hear your pursuer's movements round the corner towards the room you were in, so that you wouldn't have to embarrass yourself trying to untangle your tongue to speak to her. You backed up as he approached and felt yourself bump into a haphazardly packed suitcase.

The woman in crimson seemed to recognize the nasally voice emanating from the hallway, and she stepped out, giving you one last look of suspicion through narrowed eyes.

"Seabury. Pray tell, what are you doing?"

"My duty, Miss Clement. Now, have you seen a girl holding a lanyard run by?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't say I have, but I did see an RA using his position to excuse his misdemeanors." Her voice was smooth like caramel and frigid as frost.

Samuel sputtered. "M-Miss Clement. As Residential Assistant, my job is to-"

"To stop disruptive behavior, not to perpetrate it by running up and down the halls, that's right."

You finally gained the courage and curiosity to peek out from behind the corner. Somehow, Samuel's face had gotten redder. "That woman is a thief-"

"What did she steal, your lanyard? ID cards can be easily replaced, Samuel." Your saviour's voice oozed with condescension, as if speaking to a tantrum-prone toddler.

"I-"

"I'd hate to imagine your diligence as an RA if you don't even have the consideration to go and fetch yourself a replacement rather than stomp around and wake up the entire building. Although," she eyed him in what could've been disgust. "I don't think I have to imagine anymore. I'm sure management doesn't appreciate this either. Have a good day, Mr. Seabury."

As the door closed behind her, you caught one last glimpse of his frustrated, now almost purple face, and then heard cursing and reluctant footsteps receding.

Your relief was quite short-lived, however, as the woman turned her deep gaze towards you. Once again, you were frozen to the spot, and a different sort of nervousness nipped at your gut.

"So, are you gonna go now, or explain, or what?"

"Oh, shit, yeah. Uh, sorry for the trouble. He was after my friends, so... I panicked. Yeah. I also ran into him with a shopping cart the other day."

Her dark eyes softened, and she graced you with a lingering smile.

"Okay. I don't judge. Everyone fucking hates him anyway."

You laughed a little breathlessly. "I can see why. I'm Y/N, by the way." You offered her your hand with a lopsided smile, which she thankfully seemed to find charming, and she grasped it in her own.

"Maria."

"Nice to meet you, I-" A heavy knock on the door, and your gaze flashed towards it.

"Seabury again, probably." But the uneasiness in her face and the whisper of her voice told you she probably didn't believe that. "Maybe you should stay for n-"

A more forceful knock sounded, and this time, a man's voice followed it harshly. "Maria?"

The woman's face paled, and your expression hardened in response. You shoved the lanyard and its cards in your pocket. "Who is that?"

"My ex," She hissed. "Shit, shit..."

"What do you need? Like anything. I'll help."

She glanced at you, the conflict in her eyes only persisting for a moment before another knock turned it into desperation. "Just... play along, okay? Stay back, for now, I'll gesture when you need to come up."

"Got it. It'll be fine, I got y-" your whispers were cut off once again.

"Maria!"

"What room number, by the way?"

"447," and she stepped away.

Maria opened the door. "James?" She feigned sleepiness, rubbing a hand over her eye. The man had agitation written across his features, which were sharp and pointy.

Kind of like a rat, you thought.

"Where were you all day? You seriously didn't think to even let me know you were gonna show me up?"

"James, we're not together. I didn't even agree to come with you. I have my own life, you know."

As the two engaged in tense conversation, your fingers moved across your phone almost as furiously as your mind, and you kept your eyes trained on their silhouettes in the doorway.

Brony...

You: HERCC COME NOW ROM 447 EMERGENCY NOW NOW NEOW

You: BAD EX BF

You could only hope he got it in time, because right then, you saw Maria subtly make a gesture for you to approach with her hand shadowed from the door, and suddenly, you had a role to fill.