#Anthony Ramos enthusiast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hamiltontrashaccount · 7 years ago

Text

Promise Me: Part 4 (Anthony Ramos x Reader)

Hey everyone! So sorry to everyone who’s been waiting for an update to this!! I know I’ve taken too long to finish this and I am so sorry! I really hope you guys aren’t too mad at me, but I really hope you enjoy this guys <3

Pairing: Anthony Ramos x Reader, Platonic Phillipa Soo x Reader

Word Count: 5394 (the word most said was Anthony lol)

Warnings: Lots of cursing, a smidge of sex talk, embarrassing moments for reader lol

MASTERLIST

The music was loud when you and Phillipa stepped into the venue where the party was being held.

“Let’s go look for Lin.” Phillipa shouted to you over the noise.

You nodded your head and followed her as she walked around looking for her cast mate. You watched as she greeted almost every person she walked past, and you occasionally said a hello to some people too. Phillipa stopped in front of one group of people. Lin stood in the middle of them, with his arm around his wife.

“Lin! Vanessa!” Phillipa shouted as she opened her arms out to Lin’s wife. She hugged Lin after, and then turned to you.

“This is my sister, Y/N.” Phillipa said.

Lin reached out a hand for you to shake, which you took (all while trying not to freak out, since you were meeting Lin-Manuel Miranda, one of your inspirations). Vanessa opened her arms out to give you a hug.

Phillipa began introducing the other people in the circle.

“This is Daveed, Oak, Anthony, Renee, Jasmine.”

Each person gave you a big smile and shook your hand. When you got to Anthony, the both of you looked at each other then awkwardly grabbed the other’s hand, shaking for a little too long. With an awkward chuckle, the both of you let go.

Everyone each gave you and Anthony a look at how weird the both of you had acted. Phillipa didn’t seem like she noticed anything. Lin and Vanessa both excused themselves, and walked around the venue.

“Where’s Leslie?”

“He’s with Nikki, over by the bar.” Daveed answered.

“Well, aren’t these the Schuyler sisters?” A man asked from behind you and Phillipa.

Renee, Phillipa and Jasmine all turned towards the man and answered with a yes.

“I’m a little bored of the music here; maybe we can get a wonderful song sung by these sisters?” The man said, holding a microphone up to them and pointing towards the stage.

Each girl laughed.

“We’d love to.” Renee answered.

The man began walking towards the stage to set them up and Phillipa turned to you.

“Stay with the guys, don’t get lost. Boys, watch out for her.” She pointed a finger to them then ran off to follow the other women.

You turned to the guys and smiled.

“So you’re the girl Anthony’s always talking about?” Daveed asked.

Your smile faltered. “Uh…”

“Diggs, what the hell?” Anthony said, hitting him on the arm.

“I’m just asking a question.” Daveed said, raising his arms up as if to say I’m not sorry.

You smirked. “Always talking about me, huh?”

“Naw, I don’t talk about you, Daveed’s just always grabbing my phone and looking through my text messages and shit.” Anthony rambled nervously.

Oak laughed loudly and said, “Yeah, sure, we grab you phone and look through it, not you show us your texts.”

Anthony hit Oak on the arm too and looked at him angrily.

Both Daveed and Oak just laughed.

“All he ever does is show us your guy’s texts and ask if what you're saying is flirty.” Daveed said.

You start laughing as Oak continues. “He’s constantly asking us what he should text back to you.”

“Oh,” Daveed interrupted. “And that one time he sent you a picture of his outfit, we were there, and we watched him take picture after picture, then ask us afterwards which one was the best one. I swear we looked through 100 photos.”

You were bent over as you laughed. “Oh that’s great.” You said.

You turned to look at Anthony and saw his face was completely red. You laid your arm on his shoulder. “Aw, its fine, baby.” You cooed, pinching his cheek.

He swatted your hand away but smiled. “I swear to you, none of that happened.”

“Yeah, I definitely believe you.” You said sarcastically.

“Moving on from Anthony’s embarrassing crush on you, how come we haven’t met you earlier? Phillipa’s been telling us all about her wonderful little sister, but we never had a face to match the description.” Oak asked.

“Oh, I spent a year backpacking through Europe after high school. I only got to the States a couple months ago, and spent most of that time with my parents before coming here.”

“Really? How was it?” Daveed asked.

“It was great. A lot of fun.”

“What was your favorite place?” Anthony asked, looking down at you where you were standing next to him.

You thought about if for a second. “Probably Italy or France. They had the best parties to go to there.”

“Ah, a party girl. A woman after my own heart.” Daveed said. Oak laughed and Anthony stayed silent. He was giving Daveed a warning look. Daveed only smirked, already planning on how to flirt with you and further antagonize Anthony.

“Ha, yeah. But it was really fun, even when I wasn’t partying. The food was phenomenal and the weather was beautiful everywhere I went. I’d recommend it if you guys weren’t so busy working.”

“Yup, that Broadway schedule’s crazy sometimes.” Daveed said. Oak and Anthony mumble agreements.

“You never wanted to get into theater or any entertainment?” Oak asked.

“Not really. I don’t like to do the performing thing. Being up on stage is scary.” You answered.

“She likes writing.” Anthony said. You turned to give him a dirty look. “What?” he asked. “You do.”

“What do you write?” Daveed asked.

“I don’t really wri-” You started before Anthony interrupted.

“She likes writing poems, songs, but she’s been writing a musical recently.”

“Anthony!”

“Its actually pretty good.” Anthony said as he continued to ignore your protests.

“Oh that’s so cool! What's it about?” Oak asked.

“It’s about nothing and if Anthony says another word, I’ll kick his ass.”

“I’ll take it. Its about a small town girl who moves to New York looking for her mom.” Anthony said. You stomped on his foot and he shouted out in pain.

“Sounds cute.” Daveed said.

“It’s stupid I know, it’s a work in progress.” You stuttered.

“No, no. It’s not stupid. It’s good that you’re writing something. And if you need any help, I’m pretty sure Lin would be more than happy to help you.” Oak said.

“She’d like that; she’s, like, seriously in love with Lin.” And with that, you hit Anthony behind his head, making an audible thump.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” he shouted.

“You idiot, why would you say that?” You said, your face red with embarrassment.

“Its true,” he mumbled, rubbing his head.

Oak and Daveed both giggled at the exchange between you and Anthony.

“Y’all two are adorable.” Daveed said. “But yeah, Lin could help out, and if you need help with the music, I’d be happy to help too.”

“Oh that’d be awesome.” You said.

“She probably has a crush on you too.” Anthony mumbled. You stomped on his foot again.

“Don’t be annoying.” You warned. Anthony just smiles. You noticed Daveed and Oak are just giggling to themselves.

“How’d you react when you found out Pippa was going to be in Hamilton?” Oak asked when his laughter died down.

“I cried.” You said. “Mostly because I just got to Europe and I didn’t have any money to fly back to the States.”

“You want to go meet someone?” Daveed suddenly asked. He smiled at you.

“Uh, yeah sure I guess?” You said, glancing at Anthony. He only shrugged.

Daveed grabbed your arm and begun to drag you away. You quickly turned to Anthony and reached out for him to grab your hand. He looked surprised for a second but his surprise turned into a smile and he gripped onto your hand. Daveed navigated the three of you across the venue. Daveed continuously looked around, as if he were looking for someone.

“Aha.” He said when he’d found who he was looking for. He tapped on a man’s shoulder and you gasped when you saw who it was.

Chris Jackson stood in front of you, smiling as he greeted Daveed and Anthony. You’d yet to meet Chris Jackson yet, despite the fact that you’d visited the Richard Rogers theater twice already.

“Chris, this is Y/N. She’s a big fan of In the Heights.” Anthony said. You gripped onto his hand harder and reached your other one to shake Chris’s hand.

“Hi, its so great to meet you. Benny is my favorite character in the show so its such an honor to meet you.” You stammer.

Chris smiles. “We’ve heard a lot about you, you know? Phillipa just wouldn’t bring you around.”

You chuckled nervously. “Ah, yeah. I’ve been getting that a lot.”

Chris nods his head. “Did you ever get to see the show live?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Nope. I was pretty young, so I didn’t get into In the Heights until it was too late.”

“Oh that sucks. Well maybe one day some of the cast can get together and perform something for you.”

You nodded your head enthusiastically. “That’d be so great.”

Chris smiled again, before he looks at something behind you. “Well, it looks like my beautiful wife is calling me for something. It was nice finally meeting you Y/N. See you both later.” He said, before walking away, giving Anthony a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away.

You turned to Anthony. “You stayed.” You said.

Anthony’s brows furrowed. “Of course I did. Why would I leave?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. Daveed did.”

A look passes Anthony’s face before he smiles again. The look passes by so quickly, you can’t help but think you made it up. “I’m not Daveed.” he mumbled.

“Yup.” You said, smiling at him. “Wanna go get me some alcohol?”

“Sorry, you’re too young.” He said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Don’t be a prude. Get me-”

“Y/N, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Phillipa said, walking up to you and Anthony. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing.” You and Anthony answered at the same time. She looks between the two of you before dropping it.

“I want to finally introduce you to the girls.” She said. You nodded your head.

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go do that.”

Phillipa smiled before walking away, expecting you to follow.

You turned to Anthony. “Get me that alcohol now.”

“Jaz and Renee aren’t that bad.”

“I don’t doubt they’re not sweet. I would just prefer to stick with not having to keep up conversation with strangers.”

“You’ve been speaking with strangers all day.”

“Only Daveed, Oak and Chris. Three is my stranger quota. I don’t go over.”

“Well, you kinda have too.” Anthony laughed. “You’ll be fine. Those girls can ramble on and on about anything. You won’t have to do much talking.”

You nodded your head and hurried to meet up with Phillipa before she asks too many questions about why you’re suddenly buddy-buddy with Anthony.

Renee and Jasmine were sweet, just as Anthony said, but you still wished you were talking to Anthony, Daveed and Oak again.

Or maybe just Anthony. You could talk to Anthony for days without getting tired of him.

Renee and Jasmine are suddenly dragged away from yours and Phillipa’s conversation with them.

“I’m going to go get a drink. Want to come?” she asked.

You shook your head. “I think I kinda want to go look for Daveed, Oak and Anthony.”

Phillipa nodded her head. “Remember what I said about Anthony. I don’t want you getting hurt okay?”

“Yes, mom. I remember.”

Phillipa laughed at you and walked over to the bar. You found Anthony, Daveed and Oak not too far away from where Phillipa walked to. You walked up to them.

“Hey.”

Daveed smiled at you. “Welcome back.”

Oak gave you a smile too. “We were just talking about what we wanted to do tomorrow. Wanna join?”

You looked to the other two men. “Yeah sure. If everyone else is cool with it.”

Anthony and Daveed nod as if they can’t believe you would ever say something like that.

“You’re always invited, Y/N.” Anthony said, giving a light punch to your shoulder.

Daveed takes out his phone. “Give me your number.”

“Excuse me?” Anthony sputtered out.

Daveed smirked before saying, “I was just going to add her to the group chat, man.”

“Oh.”

You gave Daveed your number. He typed on his phone before your phone dings with a message.

You saw you were added to a chat named “BOYS WITH BIG CATS”

You giggled. “Boys with big cats?”

Daveed grinned. “Well it was originally something a lot more inappropriate, but when Renee saw it she almost slapped me in the face so I had to change it.”

You shook your head. “Well, I think you need to change it again if I’m in it now.”

“Oh no. You being added right now is your audition. You need to prove you’re entertaining enough to stay in the chat. If you’re not, we give you the boot.” Oak said.

“Am I seriously being discriminated against? Because I’m younger? Because I’m a woman?” You asked, faking your exasperation.

“Oh shut up, Y/N.” Anthony laughed. Everyone laughed along too.

The rest of the night was fun. You and the boys got a lot closer that night. The minute you and Phillipa announced that you were leaving to go back home, the boys started to spam the group chat with messages. Daveed would write things letter by letter, then would start over if Anthony or Oak interrupted the flow. Anthony sent in different lyrics of the song that was playing at the party. Oak just kept sending emojis that were related to whatever song Anthony was sending.

On the cab ride home, you giggled at the messages.

“What are you giggling at?” Phillipa asked with a smile.

“Daveed added me to some group chat with him, Ant and Oak, and they keep spamming it with stupid messages.”

Phillipa laughed and you showed her the messages until you reached home.

When you were ready to go to bed, you had to silence your phone because the boys kept sending too many messages.

“Ok im gonna go cause you guys keep sending too many damn messages.” you texted.

“No don’t go!!” Anthony said.

“Yeah your audition isnt over yet” Oak sent.

“Tbh dont care. You guys are sending too many messages lol”

“Naw, youre just too lame to stay up with us cool kids” Anthony said.

“Good night”

“We decided at the party that we’re hanging out tomorrow at a diner that Oak found the other day, wanna come?” Daveed asked.

“Yeah sure, sounds cool”

“We’re meeting up at noon” Oak said.

Daveed sent the address. “Dont be late, if you are, youre not our friend anymore”

“Yeah yeah yeah, see you there. Good night”

The boys all texted good night and you tucked your phone under your pillow, a bad habit that made your phone overheat, but you still did it anyway.

The next morning, you woke up at 11. Phillipa was already awake.

“Morning. Glad you finally decided to join the living.”

“Phil, we got home at like 1 in the morning. I needed to sleep in or else I wouldn’t get a good night’s rest.”

Phillipa rolled her eyes. “I woke up early and I feel fine.”

“Yeah but you’re old. Old people like waking up early.”

“Shut up. I’m not old.” Phillipa laughed, throwing a pillow at your head.

You dodged it and stood up from the bed.

“I’m going out with Daveed, Anthony and Oak in about an hour.” You called to Phillipa as you walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth and take a shower.

“Alright cool. Where are you guys going?”

“Some diner.”

“What’s the address of this diner?”

“I don’t know. It’s in my phone somewhere.”

“Okay, when you get out I want it.”

“Sure mom.” You chuckled. You grabbed your toothbrush, put toothpaste on and began brushing.

A moment of silence passed. “How long are you going to be out?”

“I don’t know.” You said while you brushed the back of your teeth.

“They didn’t say how long you guys would be out? I’m gonna call them and ask.” she said. Through the doorway, you could see Phillipa grabbing her phone and unlocking it.

You spit the toothpaste out of your mouth. “Phill, I lived in Europe for an entire year. I’m pretty sure I can navigate through New York on my own, and especially with the boys, who would protect me.”

“That’s not the point, I want to make sure you’re safe. And Daveed and Oak are much older so they might go too fast for you. Maybe you shouldn’t go out with them. They’re way too old.”

“Phillipa, I’ll be fine. I promise. If anything happens, I’ll call you.” You said.

“Maybe I’ll go out with you guys, at least for an hour to make sure you-”

“Phillipa. I will be fine. We most likely won’t even make it out of the diner. We’ll be there, for god knows how long, and we won’t move. If it makes you feel any better, if they suggest going out to someplace else afterwards, I’ll tell them no and just come back home. Sound good?”

Still looking unconvinced, Phillipa nodded her head. “But I’ll walk you there, since it’s on the way to the little shopping plaza. And I will walk you back home, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, an action that, thankfully, didn’t catch Phillipa’s eyes. “Fine.”

When you guys finally left, Phillipa walked you to the diner. It was a 15 minute walk, and you got there only 5 minutes late.

When you opened the door to walk in, you noticed Phillipa was trying to follow you in.

“I’m good now Phil.” You said.

“I’m just gonna say hi to the boys.”

“As long as it’s that, and you’re not going to lecture them.”

“Yeah, I swear it’s that.”

Except it wasn’t that.

“You boys better not buy her any alcohol. You better make sure she’s safe, and she is not allowed to leave this diner, understand? You will stay here until I come, just to make sure she makes it home with me, and only me.” Phillipa said, waving a finger at Ant and Oak, since Daveed hadn’t arrived yet.

“Yes, sir.” Anthony said. Phillipa rolled her eyes, and walked away after saying goodbye.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumbled under your breath, as you sat down in the booth next to Anthony. ��She’s a monster.”

“She’s just looking out for you.” Oak said, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Be happy you have someone like that.”

“No, yeah. That’s fine. But she’s crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a tracker in my phone.” You said, staring suspiciously at your phone.

“You wanna order something to drink?” Oak asked, beginning to wave down a waiter.

“Yeah, can I just get some Coke, please?” You said to the waiter. He nodded then walked away to get your drink. He came back with your soda and Anthony and Oak’s refill.

“Where’s Daveed?” You asked.

“Had some last minute clipping. things to handle. He’s coming in a couple minutes.” Anthony said.

Ten minutes later, Daveed walked in. By that time, you, Ant and Oak were already having a conversation.

“Hey guys.” Daveed said to the boys. To you, he gave you a cheek kiss and sat down next to you.

Anthony gave a dirty look to Daveed, though you didn’t see it. When Daveed looked over and saw Anthony, he smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

“What?” Daveed mouthed.

Anthony only shook his head in response, and focused his attention back to the conversation.

“So did you bring your musical over Y/N?” Daveed asked, putting an arm around the back of your chair.

“I, uh, no. Why would I bring it?”

“We want to read it.” Oak said.

“Just talk to Ant, and he’ll tell you how shitty it is.” You said, pointing over at the him.

“Shitty? That thing is fucking brilliant.” Anthony said, sitting up taller in his chair, getting ready to praise your writing. “She’s only halfway done with it, but I can already tell it’s going to be a smash. The storyline is so good, and compelling, the way she writes about the girl being angry with her mom for leaving her but desperate to still know her anyway. And the music she has written for it is crazy good. The lyrics are mesmerizing and there are some raps in it too, good raps at that. And her voice is just... ” Anthony trailed off when he noticed you staring at him with you mouth wide open. “Yeah, no. The musical is okay I guess, yeah.”

“Ant...” You said, unsure of what to say.

“Well, now we have to listen to it!” Daveed said. “Just sing us one little line, please?” he asked, intertwining his fingers under his chin and giving you puppy dog eyes.

“Ah, no. I’m good. I don’t like singing in front of people.”

Each one of them nodded their heads, understanding.

“We’ll get a tune out of you one day.” Oak said. “If Ant shook it out of you, we will too.” He said, giving a wink.

You giggled.

The conversation was led into other topics, and it never faltered once.

“Y/N’s told me about some of her embarrassing stories.” Anthony said, after having admitted his own (a sex story, a different one from what you’ve heard before.) “They’re priceless.” Daveed and Oak looked at you expectantly.

“Oh no. Jesus, no.” You said, laughing.

“Come on, we all shared our own, Ant shared one that none of us really needed to hear, but he still did it. Now you need to.” Oak said.

“Ah. Fuck it, fine.” You said. “So I had a crush on this guy one time and my friend gave me his number, and I was really annoyed cause she kept insisting I text him. So I started typing out this really long and intense text, talking about how I’d been in love with him and what I really wanted to do with him and shit as a joke, and I accidentally sent it to him.”

“Oh no.” Daveed said. Suddenly all the boys burst out laughing, and you couldn’t help but join along with them. Even though at the time it was a tragic thing to happen, looking back at it now made you realize how stupidly funny it was.

The waiter came and took you guys’s orders (You and Ant ordered a burger and fries, Oak ordered pasta, and Daveed ordered steak.)

The conversation changed again.

“The professor was just a massive asshole. He’d announce a test like only two days before, and then give you a study guide that had nothing to do with what were were learning. The tests were like 10 questions each, so you couldn’t get more than 2 wrong because he didn’t consider a 70% a passing score. It was hell. College was horrible.” Oak said. He then looked at you. “That’s not to say not to go to college, definitely go to college. Education is important.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “Not going to college is in no way an option. Phillipa and my family would kill me. Well, mostly Phillipa but yeah.”

The waiter came around and gave you all your food. The conversation started up soon after the waiter left.

“No, no. Please explain when this crush started. This is gold.” Daveed laughed when the conversation shifted from when you all first started liking musicals to your crush on Lin.

“Shut up, don’t make fun of me.” You said, giving Daveed a hard punch on his shoulder.

“I’m going to throw you a bone, and give you his number.” Daveed said, taking out his phone and typing stuff into his phone.

A message came through “BOYS WITH BIG CATS”, and you opened your phone to read it.

Daveed had added Lin to the chat and wrote “Here, have fun Y/N.”

“What in the hell was I just added to?” Lin typed.

“Hey, Lin. Y/N is totally in love with you and would love for you to help her with her musical”

“Anthony, what the fuck?” You shouted out loud in horror. You started to push and hit Anthony, making him bump into Oak multiple times.

“What?” He shouted, trying to push you away from him. You sat back and stopped hitting him.

“Why,” you asked calmly. “The fuck. Would you say that?”

“Because I love embarrassing you.” Anthony responded.

“Oh wow. Yeah, no that’s a great excuse. No I completely understand now, thanks.” You said in a monotone voice.

Anthony smiled as wide as he could. “Sorry?”

You didn’t respond, and only took a couple of Anthony’s fries and shoved them into your mouth.

“Hey!” Ant shouted. “Don’t take my food!”

“Then don’t take my dignity!” You mumbled, your mouth too full of fries to speak clearly.

You and Anthony started having a little cat fight, giving light hits to the other’s body. Oak reached over and broke up the fight.

“We are in a public place. Stop fighting.”

You and Anthony sat back in your seats, having a stare off. Anthony quickly moved to your plate and took a big bite of your burger.

“No!” You shouted.

Daveed and Oak both looked around the diner, trying to make sure no one was staring at you all making so much noise.

“A fry is nothing like a burger! I can’t believe you just ate my food!”

“Well, I had to punish you for being bad.”

“There are other ways to punish a bad girl than by taking her meat away.” You said. You grabbed a fry, from you own plate this time, and ate it, unaware of the boys all giving you shocked looks.

When you saw their faces you said, “Get you mind out of the gutter guys. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well, Anthony sure thought you meant it like that.” Daveed said. “I think he’s prepared to give you some meat now.” You didn’t hear that last comment.

“Jesus, if I knew hanging out with you guys was going to get dirty, I wouldn’t have come.” You shook your head. “Not come as in come. Come as in like arriving at this diner to hang out with you guys.”

“Yeah, we understood you that time Y/N.” Oak chuckled.

You looked back down at your phone to see that Lin had sent a message to the group chat during your fight with Ant.

“Oh hey Y/N! :) I would love to help you with your musical. I didn’t know you were writing one! Im busy today and tomorrow, but after that you can call me whenever you have time and I’ll help you with whatever you need :D”

You were giddy to learn that Lin was an emoji type of guy. You were actually texting Lin-Manuel Miranda, a man you’d been obsessed with for almost five years, about your musical. Life was too good.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks Lin!!” You texted. You looked back up at your phone to see the boys staring at you.

“See, that wasn’t so bad right?” Daveed asked.

“Shut up,” you laughed.

You and the boys spent another hour at the diner before Oak said he had to leave to meet his girlfriend before their date.

After that, Daveed left too. You and Anthony were the only ones left in the diner. You texted Phillipa to tell her that you were ready to go home.

Anthony yawned. “Jesus, I’m so tired.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure being annoying can be very tiring.”

“Yeah it really is, but I’m pretty sure you understand.”

You nodded your head. “Oh, yeah I sure do.”

Anthony shook his head and laughed. “Today was fun.”

“Yeah, it really was. It’s nice to just sit down and chill.”

“Pippa say when she was coming?” Anthony asked.

“She’ll be here in like 30 minutes. She found some old friends and they went out to a bar, which is kinda far from here.”

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

Anthony laughed. “No, never.”

“I’ll just text Philli and tell her you’re walking me.”

You texted Phillipa and she responded quickly. “Just Anthony? No Daveed or Oak?” she texted.

“Yes, Phillipa. Just Anthony. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

She agreed and you closed your phone.

“Let’s go.” You said, nodding your head towards the door. Daveed and Oak had already paid their part of the bill, and Anthony insisted on paying yours.

“Anthony, I have money.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m still paying for you.”

“Ant, let me pay you back.” You said as he stood up and already started heading for the door.

“No, don’t worry about it. It was literally just 20 bucks.”

“20 bucks that could go towards your very large and impressive comic book collection.”

“Don’t make fun of my comic book collection. I could very easily make fun of your collection of Smurf figurines.”

“I wasn’t making fun. I was just stating that those 20 dollars could have very well have gotten you a third copy of a Wolverine comic or a sixth copy of Batman Begins.”

“Only one comic is doubled. Stop exaggerating.” Anthony said, giving you a light push.

“I love exaggerating though.”

“I know you do. Its another very annoying thing you do that I love.”

You laughed. A breeze blew through, making you suddenly very cold. Cursing yourself for not bringing a thicker jacket, you hugged yourself.

“You cold?” Anthony asked. Before you could answer, Anthony wrapped his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his embrace.

You instantly felt warmer and snuggled in closer to him.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much.” You said. You both stayed like that the rest of the way, only letting go when he opened the door to your apartment building.

You started rubbing your hands together when you both got in the elevator.

“Why the fuck is it colder in here then outside?”

“It’s always like this.” You answered. Anthony started rubbing his own hands together.

“You should get that fixed.”

“Yes Anthony. I’ll just fix the entire AC unit in this entire building by myself, with absolutely no knowledge of how to do that.”

“See, there’s a trooper.” Anthony clapped his hands. “I love how ready you are to solve problems.”

“Mhm. Why don’t you fix it then? Don’t you brag about how you’re perfect at everything? Here’s your chance to prove just that.”

“Oh no. I think I want to give you a chance to actually be good at something.”

“Mhm, sure.” You said, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“Here’s something you could fix. How come the elevator hasn’t moved?”

#anthony ramos #anthony ramos x reader #phillipa soo #daveed diggs #oak onaodowan #the mighty oak #hamilton #hamilton fic #reader insert #x reader #promise me #part 4 #finally updated lol #enjoy!!

173 notes · View notes

responsivesites · 5 years ago

Text

New Post has been published on Website Design Naples Florida Webmaster

New Post has been published on https://vinbo.com/wordpress-5-3-kirk/

WordPress 5.3 “Kirk”

Introducing our most refined user experience with the improved block editor in WordPress 5.3! Named “Kirk” in honour of jazz multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk, the latest and greatest version of WordPress is available for download or update in your dashboard.

5.3 expands and refines the block editor with more intuitive interactions and improved accessibility. New features in the editor increase design freedoms, provide additional layout options and style variations to allow designers more control over the look of a site.

This release also introduces the Twenty Twenty theme giving the user more design flexibility and integration with the block editor. Creating beautiful web pages and advanced layouts has never been easier.

Block Editor Improvements

This enhancement-focused update introduces over 150 new features and usability improvements, including improved large image support for uploading non-optimized, high-resolution pictures taken from your smartphone or other high-quality cameras. Combined with larger default image sizes, pictures always look their best.

Accessibility improvements include the integration of block editor styles in the admin interface. These improved styles fix many accessibility issues: color contrast on form fields and buttons, consistency between editor and admin interfaces, new snackbar notices, standardizing to the default WordPress color scheme, and the introduction of Motion to make interacting with your blocks feel swift and natural.

For people who use a keyboard to navigate the dashboard, the block editor now has a Navigation mode. This lets you jump from block to block without tabbing through every part of the block controls.

Expanded Design Flexibility

WordPress 5.3 adds even more robust tools for creating amazing designs.

The new Group block lets you easily divide your page into colorful sections.

The Columns block now supports fixed column widths.

The new predefined layouts make it a cinch to arrange content into advanced designs.

Heading blocks now offer controls for text and background color.

Additional style options allow you to set your preferred style for any block that supports this feature.

Introducing Twenty Twenty

As the block editor celebrates its first birthday, we are proud that Twenty Twenty is designed with flexibility at its core. Show off your services or products with a combination of columns, groups, and media blocks. Set your content to wide or full alignment for dynamic and engaging layouts. Or let your thoughts be the star with a centered content column!

As befits a theme called Twenty Twenty, clarity and readability is also a big focus. The theme includes the typeface Inter, designed by Rasmus Andersson. Inter comes in a Variable Font version, a first for default themes, which keeps load times short by containing all weights and styles of Inter in just two font files.

Improvements for Everyone

Automatic Image Rotation

Your images will be correctly rotated upon upload according to the embedded orientation data. This feature was first proposed nine years ago and made possible through the perseverance of many dedicated contributors.

Improved Site Health Checks

The improvements introduced in 5.3 make it even easier to identify issues. Expanded recommendations highlight areas that may need troubleshooting on your site from the Health Check screen.

Admin Email Verification

You’ll now be periodically asked to confirm that your admin email address is up to date when you log in as an administrator. This reduces the chance of getting locked out of your site if you change your email address.

For Developers

Date/Time Component Fixes

Developers can now work with dates and timezones in a more reliable way. Date and time functionality has received a number of new API functions for unified timezone retrieval and PHP interoperability, as well as many bug fixes.

PHP 7.4 Compatibility

WordPress 5.3 aims to fully support PHP 7.4. This release contains multiple changes to remove deprecated functionality and ensure compatibility. WordPress continues to encourage all users to run the latest and greatest versions of PHP.

The Squad

This release was led by Matt Mullenweg, Francesca Marano, and David Baumwald. They were enthusiastically supported by a large release squad:

Editor Tech: Riad Benguella (@youknowriad)

Editor Design: Mark Uraine (@mapk)

Core Tech: Andrew Ozz (@azaozz)

Docs Coordinator: Justin Ahinon (@justinahinon)

Marketing/Release Comms: Mike Reid (@mikerbg)

Media/Uploader: Mike Schroder (@mikeschroder)

Accessibility: JB Audras (@audrasjb)

Default Theme Wrangler: Ian Belanger (@ianbelanger)

Default Theme Designer: Anders Norén (@anlino)

The squad was joined throughout the twelve week release cycle by 645 generous volunteer contributors (our largest group of contributors to date) who collectively fixed 658 bugs.

Put on a Rahsaan Roland Kirk playlist, click that update button (or download it directly), and check the profiles of the fine folks that helped:

123host, 1994rstefan, 5hel2l2y, @irsdl, Aaron D. Campbell, Aaron Jorbin, Aashish S, Abhijit Rakas, abrightclearweb, acalfieri, acosmin, Adam Silverstein, Adam Soucie, Adhitya Rachman, ahdeubzer, Ahmad Awais, Ajay Ghaghretiya, Ajit Bohra, ajlende, Akira Tachibana, albertomake, Alex Concha, Alex Dimitrov, Alex Lion, Alex Sanford, Alexander Botteram, Alexandre D’Eschambeault, Alexandru Vornicescu, alexeyskr, alextran, Ali Ayubi, allancole, Allen Snook, Alvaro Gois dos Santos, Amanda Rush, Amol Vhankalas, Anders Norén, Andrea Fercia, Andrea Gandino, Andrea Grillo, Andrea Middleton, Andreas Brain, Andrei Draganescu, Andrew Duthie, Andrew Nacin, Andrew Nevins, Andrew Ozz, Andrew Taylor, Andrey Savchenko, Andrés Maneiro, Andy Fragen, Andy Meerwaldt, Angela Gibson, Anh Tran, anischarolia, Anthony Burchell, Anton Timmermans, Apermo, Arafat Rahman, arena, Ari Stathopoulos, Arun Sathiya, Asad, asadkn, Ashar Irfan, ashwinpc, Aslam Shekh, atlasmahesh, au87, Aubrey Portwood, augustuswm, Aurooba Ahmed, Avina Patel, Axel DUCORON, Ayesh Karunaratne, backermann1978, Bappi, Bartosz Romanowski, Bego Mario Garde, Benjamin Intal, Benjamin Zekavica, bennemann, bgermann, Bhaktii Rajdev, bibliofille, Biranit, Birgir Erlendsson, bitcomplex, BjornW, boblinthorst, Boone Gorges, Boro Sitnikovski, Bradley Jacobs, Bradley Taylor, Brandon Kraft, Brent Swisher, Bronson Quick, bsetiawan88, Burhan Nasir, Carlos Bravo, Carolina Nymark, Catalin Dogaru, Cathi Bosco, Chandra Patel, Charlie Merland, Chetan Prajapati, Chetan Satasiya, Chico, Chintan hingrajiya, ChriCo, Chris Aprea, Chris Van Patten, Christian Chung, Christian Wach, christianoliff, Christoph Herr, cleancoded, cmagrin, codesue, CompileNix, Corey Salzano, courtney0burton, Cristiano Zanca, Csaba (LittleBigThings), D.S. Webster, daleharrison, Dan Foley, Dan Jones, DanBUK, Daniel Bachhuber, Daniel Jalkut (Red Sweater), Daniel James, Daniel Llewellyn, Daniel Richards, danieliser, daniloercoli, Danny van Kooten, Darren Ethier, darthhexx, Dave Parker, Dave Smith, Dave Whitley, davetgreen, David Aguilera, David Anderson, David Binovec, David Binovec, David Decker, David Herrera, David Rozando, David Shanske, daxelrod, Debabrata Karfa, Deni, Denis Cherniavsky, Denis Yanchevskiy, Dennis, Dennis Hipp, Dennis Snell, Derek Sifford, derweili, dfangstrom, Dharmin Shah, Dhaval kasavala, dhuyvetter, Diane Co, DiedeExterkate, Diego La Monica, digitalapps, Dilip Bheda, Dima, dingo-d, Dion Hulse, Dixita Dusara, Dominik Schilling, Drew Jaynes, Dukex, dushanthi, EcoTechie, Edi Amin, Eduardo Toledo, Ella van Durpe, Elliot Condon, Emerson Maningo, Emil Dotsev, Emil Uzelac, Enrique Piqueras, Enrique Sánchez, erikkroes, estelaris, evalarumbe, faazshift, Fabian Kägy, fblaser, Felipe Elia, Felix Arntz, Fencer04, flipkeijzer, Florian TIAR, Foysal Remon, Gal Baras, Garrett Hyder, Garth Mortensen, Gary Jones, Gary Pendergast, Gaurang Dabhi, gchtr, Gennady Kovshenin, Gesundheit Bewegt GmbH, ghoul, girlieworks, glauberglauber, Glenn, GravityView, gregsullivan, Grzegorz Ziółkowski, gwwar, Hardeep Asrani, Hardik Thakkar, hardipparmar, Hareesh Pillai, Hareesh Pillai, harryfear, harshbarach, haszari, He Yifei, Helen Hou-Sandi, Henry Wright, herbmiller, herregroen, hirofumi2012, HKandulla, Howdy_McGee, hoythan, Hugh Lashbrooke, Ian Belanger, Ian Dunn, ianmjones, Igor Zinovyev, imath, Imran Sayed, intimez, Ipstenu (Mika Epstein), iqbalbary, Irene Strikkers, Isabel Brison, Ismail El Korchi, J.D. Grimes, jagirbaheshwp, Jake Spurlock, Jalpa Panchal, James Nylen, jameslnewell, janak Kaneriya, Janki Moradiya, janw.oostendorp, jared_smith, jarocks, Jarret, jave.web, javorszky, Jay Swadas, Jaydip, Jean-Baptiste Audras, Jeff Farthing, Jeff Paul, jeichorn, Jen Miller, jenkoian, Jeremy Felt, Jesper van Engelen, Jessica Lyschik, jffng, jikamens, jitendrabanjara1991, jkitchen, jmmathc, joakimsilfverberg, Job, jodamo5, Joe Dolson, Joe Hoyle, Joe McGill, Joen Asmussen, John Blackbourn, John James Jacoby, John Regan, jojotjebaby, Jonathan Champ, Jonathan Davis, Jonathan Desrosiers, Jonathan Goldford, Jonny Harris, Jono Alderson, Joost de Valk, Jorge Bernal, Jorge Costa, Joseph Scott, Josepha Haden, Josh Pollock, Joshua Noyce, JoshuaWold, Joy, jsnajdr, Juanfra Aldasoro, Juhi Patel, Juliette Reinders Folmer, Julio Potier, junktrunk, Justin Ahinon, Justin Tadlock, K. Adam White, kafleg, Kailey (trepmal), Kakshak Kalaria, Kamran Khorsandi, Kantari Samy, karlgroves, katielgc, kbrownkd, Kelly Dwan, Kelly Hoffman, Kerfred, kero, ketanumretiya030, kevIN kovaDIA, killerbishop, killua99, Kjell Reigstad, Knut Sparhell, kokers, Konstantin Obenland, Konstantinos Xenos, kuus, laurelfulford, lbenicio, leogermani, leonblade, lessbloat, Lindstromer, lllor, lordlod, LoreleiAurora, Luan Ramos, luciano-croce, luigipulcini, luisherranz, Luke, Luke Carbis, Luke Cavanagh, m1tk00, maartenleenders, Maciej Palmowski, Mahesh Waghmare, Maje Media LLC, malthert, manooweb, Manuel Augustin, Manzoor Wani, MarcGuay, Marcin Pietrzak, Marco Martins, MarcosAlexandre, Marcus Kazmierczak, Marek Hrabe, Marie Comet, Mario Aguiar, Mario Peshev, Marius Jensen, Mark D Wolinski, Mark Jaquith, Mark Uraine, Marko Heijnen, Martin Spatovaliyski, Martin Splitt, Marty Helmick, Mary Baum, masummdar, Mat Gargano, Mat Lipe, Mathieu Sarrasin, Matt Chowning, Matthew Boynes, Matthew Haines-Young, matthias.thiel, mattyrob, Matías Ventura, Maxime Culea, Maxime Jobin, maxme, mchavezi, Meet Makadia, Mehidi Hassan, Mehul Kaklotar, Mel Choyce, Melin Edomwonyi, meloniq, Michael Arestad, Michael Babker, Michael Nelson, Michael Panaga, michel.weimerskirch, Michiel Heijmans, Miguel Fonseca, Miguel Vieira, mihaiiceyro, Miina Sikk, Mikael Korpela, Mike Auteri, Mike Glendinning, Mike Hansen, Mike Jolley, Mike Reid, Mike Schroder, MikeNGarrett, Milan Dinić, Mobeen Abdullah, Mohsin Rasool, Monika Rao, Monique Dubbelman, Morgan Kay, Morten Rand-Hendriksen, Morteza Geransayeh, moto hachi ( mt8.biz ), mppfeiffer, mrmadhat, msaggiorato, mtias, Muhammad Afzal, Mukesh Panchal, munyagu, mzorz, nadir, Nahid Ferdous Mohit, Naveen Kharwar, Nayana Maradia, Ned Zimmerman, Neel Patel, Nextendweb, Niall Kennedy, Nick Daugherty, Nick Halsey, Nicky Lim, nicolad, Nicolas Juen, Niels de Blaauw, Niels Lange, Nikhil Chavan, nikolastoqnow, Niku Hietanen, Nilambar Sharma, Nishit Langaliya, Nitish Kaila, nmenescardi, noahtallen, notnownikki, Okamoto Hidetaka, Omaar Osmaan, Omar Reiss, onlanka, oxyc, ozmatflc, Paal Joachim Romdahl, Paragon Initiative Enterprises, Paresh Shinde, Pascal Birchler, Pascal Casier, patilvikasj, Patrick Baldwin, Paul Bearne, Paul Biron, Paul Schreiber, Paul Vincent Beigang, Pedro Mendonça, pepe, Peter Wilson, PhillipJohn, Pierre Gordon, pikamander2, Pilar Mera, Pinar Olguc, powerbuoy, Pramod Jodhani, Pratik, Pratik K. Yadav, Prem Tiwari, Presskopp, Priyank Patel, Quantumstate, Raaj Trambadia, Raam Dev, raboodesign, Rahul Vaza, Ramanan, Rami Yushuvaev, ramon fincken, RC Lations, rebasaurus, ReikoDD, Remco Tolsma, retrofox, Riad Benguella, Richard Korthuis, Riddhi Mehta, Rishabh Budhiraja, Robert Anderson, Robert Chapin, Robert Ivanov, rogueresearch, Roi Conde, Ronak Ganatra, Ronny Harbich, Roy Randolph, Roy Tanck, Ryan Boren, Ryan Kienstra, Ryan McCue, Ryan Welcher, Sébastien SERRE, samgordondev, Sami Ahmed Siddiqui, Samir Shah, Samuel Wood (Otto), Sanket Mehta, sarah semark, sarath.ar, saskak, sbardian, Scott Reilly, Sebastian Pisula, Seghir Nadir, Sergey Biryukov, Sergey Predvoditelev, sergiomdgomes, seuser, sgastard, Shady Sharaf, Shamim Hasan, Sharaz Shahid, Shashank Panchal, shawfactor, Shital Marakana, siliconforks, simono, sirreal, Sixes, Slava Abakumov, Slobodan Manic, smerriman, snapfractalpop, socalchristina, Soren Wrede, Spectacula, spenserhale, spuds10, Stanimir Stoyanov, Stefano Minoia, Stefanos Togoulidis, Stephen Bernhardt, Stephen Edgar, Steven Word, studyboi, Subrata Sarkar, Sudhir Yadav, Sultan Nasir Uddin, sun, svanhal, Swapnil V. Patil, swapnild, Sybre Waaijer, Sérgio Estêvão, Takayuki Miyauchi, Takis, Tammie Lister, tazotodua, technote, Tellyworth, Tessa Kriesel, them.es, Themezly, Thijs Hulshof, Thomas Kräftner, thomaswm, Thord D. Hedengren, Thorsten Frommen, Thrijith Thankachan, tigertech, Tim Carr, Tim Havinga, Tim Hengeveld, Timothy Jacobs, timph, tmatsuur, tmdesigned, TobiasBg, tobifjellner (Tor-Bjorn Fjellner), toddhalfpenny, Todor Gaidarov, Tom J Nowell, Tommy Ferry, Toni Viemerö, tonybogdanov, torres126, Torsten Landsiedel, Towhidul Islam, trasweb, Travis Northcutt, travisseitler, triplejumper12, truchot, truongwp, Tugdual de Kerviler, Tung Du, Udit Desai, Ulrich, Utsav tilava, Vaishali Panchal, vbaimas, Venutius, Viktor Veljanovski, Vishal Kakadiya, vishitshah, vladlu, Vladut Ilie, vortfu, Vova Feldman, vrimill, w3rkjana, webcommsat AbhaNonStopNewsUK, Webdados (Marco Almeida), WebMan Design | Oliver Juhas, Weston Ruter, William Earnhardt, William P. Davis, William Patton, withinboredom, worldweb, yanngarcia, Yannicki, yarnboy, yashar_hv, Yoav Farhi, yodiyo, Yui, Yvette Sonneveld, zaantar, zalak151291, Zebulan Stanphill, Česlav Przywara, АЙРАТ ХАЛИТОВ

, and 水野史土.

Many thanks to all of the community volunteers who contribute in the support forums. They answer questions from people across the world, whether they are using WordPress for the first time or since the first release. These releases are more successful for their efforts!

Finally, thanks to all the community translators who worked on WordPress 5.3. Their efforts bring WordPress fully translated to 47 languages at release time, with more on the way.

If you want learn more about volunteering with WordPress, check out Make WordPress or the core development blog.

Thanks for choosing WordPress!

Original source: https://wordpress.org/news/2019/11/kirk/

0 notes

so-long-londonn · 4 years ago

Text

Late- Ch 3 of A New Adventure (Janthony)

Ant POV

Anthony started a leisurely walk to the theater. He was on time that day. Or so he thought.

His phone rang. He picked it up and heard Lin shouting.

"Where are you?!" he asked.

"On my way to the theater! Where else would I be?" Ant replied.

"Um, how about here? You were supposed to be here at 7:30!"

"CRAP!" he yelled. "I thought you said 8:30!!" He thought he would actually be on time for something (for once), but of course he just HAD to mess it up. "I'm now 5 minutes away. Sorry, boss."

.....

When I finally made it to the theater, Lin walked up to Anthony and teased: "There you are, Mr. 'I won't be late this time I promise'!"

"Sorry, I just heard you wrong!"

"It's all good. Just sit down so we can start."

He saw an empty seat by Jazzy and sat down there. She smiled and waved and he did the same. Her wrist said A.R. Anthony Ramos?

Lin POV

Lin had specifically told everyone not to sit by Jasmine so that Ant would sit by her. They were going to get married someday, thanks to him. He felt like a genius.

Jazzy POV

Ant sat down next to Jasmine and she waved. Um, awkward much? He's right there... He just smiled and waved back. As he waved, she noticed his tattoo on his wrist- J.C.J. Those were her initials... whatever. She ignored it. Thank goodness there were no weird looks. She had a feeling Lin was watching us, though... whatever.

.....

Time skip brought to you by my minimal knowledge of Broadway rehearsals

"Ok, everybody, great job today, and I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning!" Lin yelled enthusiastically. The cast grumbled tired goodbyes as they trickled out the door.

On my way out, Ant stopped her. "Jazzy!"

She turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"Would you... would you... um..." Anthony blushed and stuttered.

"Would I...?"

"Doyouwantocomeoverandwatchamoviesometime?" he blurted.

"What was that?" Jasmine asked.

"Would you... like to come to my place and watch a movie with me sometime?" he asked nervously.

"Of- of course! That would be... fun," she stuttered.

"Great, then it's a date!" he said, blushing. Jas was pretty sure she was blushing, too.

"See you later!" she yelled, and she walked away.

Ant POV

Had Anthony seriously just said that it was a date? I couldn't believe she agreed. He guessed Lin might have been right... maybe. Did he like Jasmine Cephas Jones... and was she his soulmate?

#hamilton #janthony

0 notes

angelic-rin · 7 years ago

Text

John Laurens x Reader: I like you a lot

A/n: This is the first Hamilton one-shot I wrote, maybe a month and a half ago? I wanted to do John Laurens x Reader because I was in love with Anthony Ramos, haha. But I also was hardcore shipping Lams so in order to balance it out I also wrote a couple of modern Lams one shots. Maybe I’ll post those too someday. Enjoy!

***

She was a quiet girl, not one for speaking her mind. She held her opinions close to her chest, never letting anyone know what she thought. And that was okay. If she never told anyone what she was thinking, then no one would ever tell her that she was wrong. Or that she was stupid.

Even if in her society’s eyes, she was wrong. And definitely not educated.

It was a rather cloudy, gray day, threatening rain, but it didn’t bother (y/n). The way she figured it, clouds meant less people on the street and therefore less people who would bother her. Not that anyone talked to her anyways, but still.

(Y/n) was part of the background. Sure, she was pretty. She had pretty eyes and nice hair. And it wasn’t like she was poor, or completely stupid. If you asked someone about her, they’d probably say, “(y/n)? Sure, I know her.” But she was just part of the scenery. A tiny part in a large production that was life in New York City.

“Hey! (Y/n!)"

A voice squealed excitedly behind her, and (y/n) smiled widely. It was her best friend, Peggy, and her sisters.

Peggy and (Y/n) became fast friends. They bonded over the fact that they tended to be forgotten. They could always be seen walking together, occasionally with another Schuyler sister going along.

(Y/n) wasn’t close with the other sisters, Angelina and Eliza, but she said her polite hellos to them and turned her attention to Peggy.

"Hi Peggy!” she said, happy to see her friend. “What do you want to do today?”

“Have you seen the people shouting in the square?” Peggy asked excitedly. “We were going to go see them! Angelina was really excited about it. Want to come along?"

"Sure!” (Y/n) replied enthusiastically. Then she hesitated. “Is it really okay if I tag along?” She was Peggy’s age, which made the two of them the youngest, so they sometimes felt odd going along with the older girls.

Angelina shrugged and nodded, too excited to get to the shouting to care. “Of course!” Eliza said kindly. Peggy grinned and took (Y/n)’s hand, the Two of them giggling and skipping to the fun.

A man stood on a box, reading something.

“….Chaos and bloodshed are not the solution!” he called. (Y/n) noticed a group of men standing close by, all looking very annoyed. One man even started arguing with the man reading!

(Y/n) was shocked. She had never seen such courage before.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about the man who seemed to enjoy arguments, so she took a look at the others who were standing in that group.

One man had a bandanna tied around his head. He looked very intense, like he wasn’t afraid to play a little bit rough. Next to him was a thinner man, standing quietly to the side. He looked as though he didn’t want to be there, and kept rolling his eyes at the man who argued with the reader.

And then there was an intense looking guy talking excitedly in half english, half french with his hair pulled back. (Y/n) couldn’t decide what she thought of him.

And next to him…. the prettiest boy (Y/n) had ever seen.

He had long, messy curls pulled back into a ponytail and his cheerful face was covered in freckles. He was looking up at the arguing man with such intensity that she guessed that they must have been very close friends. He seemed happy to watch the shouting that was happening, which normally would have made (y/n) to look elsewhere. But he was so pretty to look at that she found herself unable to look at much else.

Peggy noticed her friend’s stares and grinned. “Do you like him? He’s rather cute, isn’t he?

(Y/n) turned pink. "I don’t even know him, Peg. How could I like him?”

“I don’t know him either! But you should talk to him!”

(Y/n) shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll probably never see him again anyways. Besides, he’s so attractive, he probably already-”

But she was cut off. All three of the Schuyler sisters pushed her towards him. The force was more than enough….. to send her crashing straight into him.

“Oh! My goodness!” (Y/n) went from pink to red. “I am so sorry!!! I didn’t mean to- I’m so sorry- I’m so silly!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” the pretty boy said, laughing nervously as he helped her up. He shyly kissed her knuckles when she got to her feet. “I’m John Laurens.”

“(Y/n, y/l/n),” She responded just as shyly. Two of the other men were glancing at John, and then (y/n), chuckling. She pretended not to notice.

The man who had been arguing seemed to be done proving people wrong, and approached John. “Hey! That was pretty fantastic, don’t you think?”

“It was, Alexander!” John responded, blushing slightly.

Alexander turned to (y/n). “Who is this young lady?”

“(Y/n),” she said.

“Tell me, (Y/n), what do you think of the revolution? Britain is in the wrong here, don’t you think?”

“Ahhhhh……”

“Surely, she doesn’t wish to answer your questions, Alexander!” John spoke up, using a playful tone.

Alexander grinned. “I’m glad you fancy the young woman, John, but perhaps you ought to let her speak for herself.” And without another word, he sauntered off to join the other men who stood nearby.

In spite of her strict policy to never share her opinions, (Y/n) started to giggle.

“What’s so funny? John asked with a small smile.

"Oh, nothing. It’s just…” She giggled again. “You and Alexander seem awfully close….”

“Yeah? What are you saying?” His cheeks were pink.

“Nothing…” (Y/n) suddenly felt a bit awkward. She shouldn’t have said anything. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Laurens, but… I’m sure my friends are expecting me."

"Oh.” He seemed disappointed. “Will I ever get to talk to you again?”

(Y/n) was shocked. They had barely spoken to begin with! How was it possible that an attractive young man seemed to like her, a nobody, so quickly?

“In sure you will,” she said shyly. He smiled, kissed her knuckles again, and said, “Alright. Until we meet again, Miss (y/n).” And he left.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Peggy ran up to her. “EEEEEE!” She squealed. “He likes you, he likes you!”

(Y/n) laughed. “Maybe, Peggy. I don’t know. Maybe he was just being polite.”

But deep down, she didn’t think he was. She didn’t think she could have imagined the way he seemed to act around her.

Maybe she was over thinking it.

Whether she was or not, she made an out of character desicion: she would talk to him again. She would see those freckles again.

#hamilton x reader #john laurens #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfic #john laurens x reader

78 notes · View notes

sunshinemiranda · 8 years ago

Text

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 3)

Summary: There are some new encounters with the other members of the Lost Boys, as well as an introduction to the local villainous gang. Noses are broken.

Warnings: Quite a bit of swearing, blood and bruising mention.

Words: 7,176 (can you tell that i’ve just stopped trying)

A/N: It’s really late where I am but I’m so excited for this?? What the heck. Anyway, just a little reminder that @alexanderhamllton and I have made matching aesthetics and playlists for the Lost Boys...coming soon to a tumblr near you...anyway, enjoy. Tags: @daveedsbra @myself-and-the-madman @clamilton @robotic-space @attackonmikaelson @pearltheartist @itsjaynebird

askbox | masterlist

The Pirates were a venomous crew of reptilian proportions, who didn’t play by the rules. They were of the privileged class, people who didn’t bother to think about their repercussions or the damage caused. Boredom is their motivation. Lives where everything is given to you, where money is not an issue, are lives that are awfully mundane. With a craving for possibility and the fire of resources at their fingertips, the Pirates seem to think themselves wonderfully immortal. They are the good ones gone wrong, a budding flower bitten at the stem by a poison with no antidote. In their blind want for something of substance, they chose to take as a method of getting what they want, but do not need. The local gas station cowers after a history of hold-ups. The department stores have lists of clients who are not allowed in; the Pirates are at the top.

They terrorize, gracelessly and unregretfully. Their constant search for distraction ended when they were met with a sort of resistance: the Lost Boys. There is an animosity between the two groups, older than the public can even remember. The Pirates all wear letterman’s jackets, not unlike the leather that graces the shoulders of Lost Boys. The back is illustrated with two symbols: a ship cutting through the waves, and a jolly roger flag. It is altogether a childish drawing, but it is somehow realized as something new and ultimately frightening on the backs of delinquents.

Jasmine Cephas Jones, known oddly as Smee is a cold, regal woman with a glint in her eyes that makes steel knives appear dull. She is second in command, but heaven help you if she ever decides to come after you. Do not reduce her to a second best of any sort. Dark hair, black as obsidian, is always tucked into a neat braid that curves over her shoulder. Jasmine is the subject of endless legend. It is said that she is the one pulling the strings behind the corrupt group, and her aloofness has done nothing to put those rumours to rest. Of all the whispers about her, the speculations that she carries a knife constantly, the fear that she has a history of arrest and delinquency, the one thing about Jasmine that cannot be argued as untrue, is the story of her manipulating touch. To tell that, however, we must address the leader first.

Hook, or James Oleander, is head of The Pirates. His notorious nickname stems from the silver hook that dangles from a chain around his neck. It seems to be important to him, but no one is privy to the real meaning. James is perpetually the antagonist to Pan and all that he stands for. The two are oddly designed to be the other’s specific problem; one cannot exist while the other survives. All Hook is built up to be depends on Pan. Pan defines Hook with his very existence. James cannot ever forget his obsession and perpetual concern with establishing himself over the Lost Boys. Golden hair constantly combed to perfection, James even appears as the visual opposite of Pan. One is dark, kissed by the night, with curled ringlets and constellations made of freckles. The other is gleaming, almost painfully, with thin, straight hair and a pale, ghost-like build. It is difficult to judge James based on fact. The entire town perpetuates rumours and speculations, but it is safe to say that the only person who knows Hook past every layer of his dark deeds is Pan.

And thus, we have the villains to our story. We have already established our Lost Boys. That gang of unlikely heroes and contradictorily beautiful villains must clash, at some point, because that’s how the story goes, right? And then a happy ending. It’s just a matter of time.

Tink had started sitting with you at lunch. It wasn’t exactly clear why, but ever since your short conversation at the outskirts of the deserted drive-in, she had sidled in next to Nat, without food, and stayed there all lunch period without an explanation.

“So, is she like, our friend now?” Nat mumbled around a mouthful of cafeteria fries.

It was the start of lunch, and Pippa hadn’t arrived yet. You pushed at your sandwich, a little put off already. School food wasn’t ideal. It was barely food.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, resting your chin in your hand.

“Man, I hope so. She’s badass. She’d probably beat Pan up for the shit he pulled with you.”

The mention of his name made a bad taste find it’s way into your mouth and you visibly grimaced, pushing your sandwich to the side in official abandonment. Before you could reply with something scathing about the boy, the scent of cigarettes and daisies entered the vicinity and Tink slid in next to you, scooping up your sandwich as she sat down and taking a bite, all in one smooth action.

“Not probably. I would.” Pippa grinned, glancing at you with a nonchalant shrug.

You shot her a smile, unbothered by your newfound lack of a sandwich. Tink didn’t bring lunches. It was possible she didn’t eat until the end of the school day, and this was good for her.

“You and me both, girl.” Nat huffed, making a show of cracking her knuckles.

“Pan’s different,” Pippa shrugged, mouth full of sandwich. “It was his way of showing that he cared for (Y/N).”

“He doesn’t care about me,” you stated, voice hardened. “Even if he did, that’s a real shitty way to show it. I’m done with that. I refuse to keep embarrassing myself.”

A silent look passed between Nat and Tink. A moment passed, then they both stood up, delivering the most enthusiastic standing ovation you’d ever seen. A half-smile on your face, you reached to grab both their sleeves and tugged them back into their seats.

“Bravo,” Nat laughed. “It’s about goddamn time.”

“I agree.” Tink’s eyes were twinkling, and despite your attempt to remain standoffish, you laughed anyway.

“I just wish there was somewhere I could get away from it all.” You hummed, reaching over to steal a fry from Nat. “I need some peace and quiet to finish some homework, think things over, just get distracted.”

Tink raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “You already have somewhere.”

“And where would that be?”

“Neverland.”

Rolling your eyes, you sighed out a scoff. “Are you kidding me? That’s like his freaking home. Why would I go there to avoid him?”

“Oh, get over it. Pan barely ever actually comes to Neverland. He’s always off being all broody and lonely. Neverland is the home of the Lost Boys. Pan isn’t part of us. It’s a great place to go to when you need to clear your head, I swear.”

Biting your lip, you sat back to weigh the options. Avoiding Pan and all that he touched could only last so long; the boy’s touch was everywhere, practically palpable. If there was any chance that you could slip into Neverland and just have ten minutes to decompress without his presence, you had to take it.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll meet you in the parking lot at the bell. Nat, you wanna come?”

She shook her head, throwing the rest of her fries in her mouth. “Nah, I got work to do. Pippa, you promise me that (Y/N) comes back less pouty and depressed, okay?”

Tink smiled. “Promise.”

Neverland was just how you had remembered it. It was perpetually at rest, and yet poised for action. It was a place settled on an “in between”, something that existed in vivid colour and yet disappeared when you grasped too hard. The sky was clear as Tink and you trekked down the bushy path toward the drive-in, and within the space of five minutes, the tension that had stuck to your ribcage for days seemed to dissipate.

Pippa led the way towards the projection room, and the moment she opened it, a head of long dark hair pulled into a badly made bun caught your eye. So it seemed you weren’t alone.

“For the last time,” Slightly sighed, not even bothering to look up from the notebook he was furiously filling with words. “I’m not going to test drive your car, Curly, it doesn’t have brakes.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Lin?” Pippa grinned, and at the sound of his name, he looked up, eyes a bit wide.

“Oh, hi Tink.” He caught a glimpse of you behind her, and raised an eyebrow. “And…company.”

“This is (Y/N).” Tink gestured at you lazily before flopping onto the couch with a contented sigh.

“I remember,” Lin murmured, eyes assessing you with a certain guarded look. “You’re Pan’s (Y/N), right?”

“If there’s anything I’m not, it’s that. He doesn’t own me.” You snapped, hands curling into fists.

He visibly cringed, nodding as he looked down at his messy notes. “Right. Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant.” He stood, reaching out to offer you his hand. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced, at least properly. I’m Slightly.”

Warily, you shook his hand. “The same Slightly who blocked my exit from last time?”

He chuckled nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Sorry, I just…sorry.”

“He has Spontaneous Asshole Syndrome.” Tink quipped from the couch, grinning. “Not unlike our dear, dear Pan himself.”

Slightly rolled his eyes, turning around so he could flip her off with a good-natured grin. “I just…I try to be cool around people I respect. It can make for some bad choices, but any friend of Tink’s is a friend of mine.”

“It’s fine,” you chuckled, tapping at Tink’s legs so you could get some room to sit down on the couch.

“What brings you to our humble drive-in?” He smiled, pushing his notebook away and propping his legs up on the wooden chair adjacent to his own seat.

“Just…trying to find a place to think clearly.” You murmured, letting out a long breath.

“Neverland’s the perfect place for that. I’m always the most productive in this projection room.”

“Really? And what are you working on?”

“I write.”

“Write what?”

“A bit of everything,” he smiled, looking down as he flipped through pages and pages of words. “Poetry, couple songs…they make me feel at ease.”

“That’s really cool.” You smiled, a flow of conversation making you feel as if Neverland was soon becoming a place to belong too. A warmth opened in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah, anyway,” Tink started, reaching over to give Lin’s leg a poke. “Where are the rest of the boys?”

“Curly’s at the mechanic shop on shift, Tootles is studying, as always, the Twins are…no one ever knows where they are, and I think Nibs is on a date?”

“God, another poor female submitted to an entire meal with Nibs. True torture.” Tink groaned.

With a grin, you stood, looking down briefly to zip up your jacket against the fall cold outside. “I should go. Thanks for bringing me, Pippa. And thanks for not being a spontaneous asshole, Slightly.”

Tink sent you a thumbs up, and Lin grinned. “Come back anytime. It’ll be a better opportunity for me to redeem myself.”

“I just might.” You smiled, and by the time you left, all remnants of misery that had been circulating in your veins had all but disappeared.

The next time you went to Neverland, you had the privilege to meet Tootles. It crossed your mind that most of what you knew about the Lost Boys was found in whispers from the grapevine. Other than Tink and Pan, you had no connection or interaction with the rest of the group.

Binder in hand and homework on your mind, you pushed through the screen door and encountered Oak, sitting at the table in a mess of papers and binders. It was infinite. Three separate textbooks lay open on the table, marked excessively with post-it notes. A handful of different pens, highlighters and markers were distributed haphazardly around the table, and Oak already had two tucked behind one ear and a third perched between his teeth. He looked up with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t meant to…I’ll-I’ll go, sorry.” You backpedaled as quickly as possible, but before you could hurry away, he called out.

“Wait,” he mumbled around the pen, reaching up to take it from his mouth. “It’s fine, you can stay.”

Breathing out, you nodded and, albeit nervously, sat down across from him at the table and spread out your own work. Hastily, he reached out and bulldozed you some room, sweeping away his papers.

“What brings you to Neverland, (Y/N)?” He said.

“You know my name?” Your eyes widened at his liberal mention.

“Well, you’re Pippa’s friend, aren’t you? And, of course, Pan has mentioned you.” His voice grew careful and a warm feeling of gratitude at his respectful way to know boundaries washed over you.

“Right. Yes. I was just looking for a quiet place to do my homework.” You let out a nervous laugh, drumming your pencil against the blank paper in front of you.

“This place is perfect for that.” He leaned forward, face open and serious, with just a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What are you working on?”

“Biology essay about vaccinations. You?”

“AP Law is kicking my ass. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” He shrugged, gesturing to the textbooks in front of them.

“AP Law?” You repeated incredulously. “Damn, I’ve heard that class is hell on earth.”

“Oh, it is.” He smiled for the first time, and it was a very calming, fitting look. “However, it’s obligatory for my future career.”

“And what would that be?”

“A degree in law and criminology at Florida State University.”

His confidence and comfortable way with vulnerability astounded you, and you found yourself leaning in to listen to him speak. Oak’s voice had a heavy, logical side that seemed to quell all fears that had ever existed in any part of your brain. It was a therapeutic sound.

“You’ll get it.” You murmured, sending him a quick smile as you opened your textbook to get to work. “I know you will.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).” His voice was all courtesy and manners, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw another small smile find a place on his face as he returned to his work.

Up until this point, the only contact you had had with Nibs was an unpleasant encounter that lasted all of two seconds under low blue lights as he was tugged away from kissing your best friend. The added comment you had made about him disgusting you didn’t make for a smooth segue into any interaction.

After a busy day of exams, you had slipped away from the stream of people and drove down the highway to find the turn off to a pathway you had become quite acquainted with. The air was purer in Neverland, it seemed, as if it had been imbued with a sort of magic.

At the sight of Daveed lounging on the couch watching the Twins blow smoke rings, you almost balked, but a tenacious feeling of entitlement to be in this space too rose up and you stalked through the doorway and plunked down in one of the wooden chairs, refusing to look at him.

“Well, well! It’s-“ Daveed was grinning, already moving to sit up when the Twins interrupted.

“(Y/N).” They said it in perfect unison.

“Guys, I was going to say that. We don’t have to go full-out Disney villain plus corrupt sidekicks.” Nibs rolled his eyes and turned back to you, eyes shining. “What brings a lovely girl like you to our humble shack?”

“Well, first of all, I had hoped I would be able to avoid you. And secondly, nothing in particular.” You replied, setting your shoulders back as you picked, disinterestedly, at your cracking nail polish.

“I can’t believe you still hate me.” He sighed, a visible pout coming to his face. “All I did was talk up your friend, Pan is the one you should be mad a-“

“Daveed.” Leslie spoke up, his voice soft and commanding. “Don’t be tasteless.”

“Don’t be an asshole is really what he means.” Jordan shrugs, sitting down next to you.

Nibs rolled his eyes, and lay back down on the couch, reverting back to his moody posture in a second. Jordan tapped the ashes off his cigarette and sent you a half smile.

“Don’t mind him. It’s nice to have another girl in here besides Tink. She’s great and everything, but half the time-“

“I feel like she might kick my ass any minute.” Leslie finished for his brother, grinning as he took the seat across from yours.

You laughed, relaxing a bit as the atmosphere warmed. “It’s fine. Pippa is a firecracker, I agree. It’s hard not to love her, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.” They both chimed, giving an approving nod.

“Can you guys please stop the talking at the same time? You have been told repeatedly that it’s pretty fucking creepy.” Daveed snapped from his end of the room.

Rolling his eyes, Jordan stood. “Oh, suck it up, crybaby. We’re leaving anyway.”

“Nice to meet you again, (Y/N).” Leslie smiled, pulling his leather jacket on, cigarette still perched at his lips. “I hope Daveed doesn’t put you off Neverland. Come back whenever you like.”

With that, they swept out the door, closing it with a satisfying click, and yet, ultimately, leaving you alone with your least favourite of the group. Silence ruled the room, the kind that made you want to fidget and fill the space with un-necessary babble.

“Look, Nibs, it’s-“

“I’m sorry.”

You stopped short at that and turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. His arm was thrown over his face, hiding his expression, but the sincerity in those two words had struck a chord in you that was still ringing loudly.

“What did you say?” You whispered, unconvinced that you had heard him correctly.

“I said I’m sorry.” He sighed, moving so he could sit up and occupying his gaze by looking down to light a cigarette. “I shouldn’t have tried to use Pan against you, it was a dick move.”

A pause flowed, and after a moment, you smiled, something you never thought you’d do in his presence. “It’s okay.”

“I’m also sorry for…you know, making out with your friend, and all that. Though I don’t regret it, she’s so ho-“

“Daveed, you’re ruining the moment.”

“Okay, sorry.” He chuckled, then paused, tilting his head as he looked at you, letting a breath of smoke out.

“What?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It’s just…that’s the first time you called me by my real name.” He grinned and stood, reaching for his leather jacket. “Looks like you’re getting real comfortable with the Lost Boys, (Y/N).”

“Is that a bad thing?” You questioned, a little miffed by the statement.

“Not at all,” he smiled, half way out the door. “I think you’d fit in quite nicely.”

His words echoed in your head for a week.

Curly is not a social kind of person. He spends time with cars because those are easy; the parts fit together, there are instruction manuals, nothing is unexpected. With social encounters, none of these things exist. He leans on Slightly for that exact reason. Lin thrives on being around other people. Chris does not.

You poked your head into the projection room after a busy day at work, feet aching and searching for some respite. Slightly caught sight of you immediately, but there was someone else sitting at the table, turned away from you.

“(Y/N)! Come in, this place is always open.” He beckoned you forward, smiling.

“Hey, sorry to intrude, I didn’t know you guys would be here.” You offered a smile of your own, moving to sit on the couch.

“Oh, it’s fine. Have you met Chris? I don’t know, probably.” Lin shrugged, moving to return to his notebook scribblings.

“Hi,” you reached out and offered your hand for Chris to shake but he only stared at you, moving to offer you nothing but a nod of recognition.

“Anyway, Slightly, so we’ve got this Shelby 427 Cobra engine in the shop, right? And we’re going to see if we can rebuild-“

Refusing to be ignored, you cut in mercilessly against his words. “The Cobra, or the Cobra Super Snake?”

He froze and turned to you, frowning as he took a thoughtful drag of his cigarette. “Just a Cobra. Made in-“

“1966, yeah, I know.”

He paused momentarily, and you registered the delighted look on Slightly’s face out of the corner of your eye. “Didn’t know you liked cars.”

“I don’t, but I have an aunt who does. She taught me everything I know.” Letting out a breath, you stood. “I should leave you guys to it, this is your space after all. See you.”

Just before you could reach for the doorknob, Chris called your name. He had stood from his chair and he approached, hand outstretched. “I think I owe you a handshake.”

A half smile appeared on your face and you reached out, shaking his hand, a triumphant pride blooming in your chest. “Nice to meet you, Curly.”

“See you around, (Y/N).” He gave you a nod, which was more physicality than Chris ever exhibited around the general public over a week.

You left feeling, more than ever, like you belonged.

It wasn’t until a week later that you witnessed the Lost Boys as a group. The sun was just setting as you walked underneath the steel sign, a plethora of colours blooming from behind the wall of pines. Oranges and pinks calmed the stress from that day and you found yourself, once again, at ease in Neverland.

Tink, Tootles and Slightly were already in the projection room when you entered. There was intensity in their conversation that suggested paramount importance, but the moment they saw you, all words stopped.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Slightly managed a smile but it wavered.

“Hey,” you moved forward, a little warily. “What’s going on, guys?”

“Oh nothing, it’s-“

“Lin.” Oak’s voice stopped him with a word. “It’s fine, we can tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“(Y/N), I’ve told you of my plan to go to FSU and study law.” Oak started, beckoning you with an open hand as he sat down at the table. You took a seat adjacent to his.

“Yeah.”

“Well…I was planning on finding my way there through a scholarship that would pay for everything I could ever need; textbooks, food, housing.”

“Yeah, sounds great.”

“It does. But I didn’t get it.”

The entire room tensed at that, gauging your reaction in looks, silent prayers; it was a hundred different feelings mixed into a single mess. You let out a long breath, hands squeezing into tight fists.

“Oak, I am so sorry.” You reached out and placed your hand on his, looking up with pleading eyes. “You were born for that. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“That makes two of us, girl,” Tink huffed, a breath of smoke drifting from her lips. “It’s bullshit.”

Oak’s lips tilted into a small smile. It was a pleasing sight to see, he’d been curled over in stress for too long. “Thank you both, but this is just how it has to be. It was a long shot already, I can’t-“

“No.” You interrupted him, standing abruptly from the couch. “I can’t accept that, Oak. You deserve this more than any one of their students. We’re getting you to that goddamn university, okay?”

“I want him there more than anyone, honest to God,” Slightly added, hands raised in explanation. “But how?”

You bit your lip, mind working into a flurry of ideas and possibilities. “We’ll make money.”

“Off what?” Tink quipped. “I don’t know how many of you guys would be into pole-dancing as a side job.”

“We’ll use Neverland.” You murmured, eyes widening as a concrete idea started to take place in your mind. “This place is a drive-in, right?”

“A deserted drive-in, yeah.” Slightly said.

“It doesn’t have to be. Let’s revive it. We’ll show movies, sell concession. You guys know how to bake; there are old movies everywhere. This projection room has some useful equipment.”

“This could actually work,” Oak mumbled disbelievingly, standing as he glanced around the room. “This could actually work. I have some money saved up. I can apply for grants. This can work, you guys, holy shit.”

The screen door rattled and lo and behold, the golden feeling of triumph settling into your heart was suddenly stamped out in a second as Pan made his way, casual as anything, into the room, followed by Curly, Nibs and the Twins.

“Yo, guys, what are you all serious abou-“ He choked on his words the moment he realized you were in the vicinity. His vulnerable look of disbelief didn’t last long; it quickly converted to distaste. “What is she doing here?”

An anger washed over you, the blood roaring in your ears as you opened your mouth to just rip him apart but you were too slow; Tink got there first.

“Oh, get the fuck over it, Pan. (Y/N) knows where Neverland is, something that was, I may remind you, an idea you had. Suck it up, she comes here now.” She said this all from her lazy position on the couch and accompanied it with a scathing roll of her eyes.

A fast grin spread across your face and you mouthed a quiet thank you at her from your end of the room. She winked.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s cool.” Slightly smiled, giving you a nudge with his elbow. “You guys wanna hear our plan to get Tootles to college, or what?”

“Always,” Nibs grinned, following the Twins to the table to find seats.

Before Oak could outline the new plan, a clatter of the door announced that Pan had disappeared just as fast as he had arrived. You stared at the door, teeth on edge as the spark of anger smoldered in your veins, but turned away and addressed the group.

“First line of thought: Neverland is making a comeback. Second line of thought: Casablanca is our first option.”

Neverland needed some intense cleaning up. It was the product of an entire weekend, and every one had their own part. At least, everyone but Pan. He hadn’t appeared yet, and, according to the Lost Boys, avoided Neverland as much as possible now that he knew you were there. It seemed you weren’t the only one wanting a place to get away.

“If I have to pick up one more pile of pinecones, I’m shoving them all down Nibs’ throat.” Tink groaned, flopping onto the couch during a break you had called.

“Kinky,” Slightly snickered, taking a swig from a cold bottle of water from the tiny fridge.

Nibs stuck out his tongue, all childish, as the rest of the group laughed. The sound died down as the screen door creaked open and a familiar head of curls peeked through, shyer than before.

“Pan.” Oak spoke up, after a moment of silence. “Nice to see you.”

“I…I thought I’d help.” He attempted a smile, glancing around the room.

“Thank you.” Oak smiled, reaching over to pull him into a one-armed hug of sorts. “Let’s get on this.”

As Nibs, Curly and the Twins cleared the yard of unwanted weeds and car parts, you had been assigned to sweep all remaining dust out of the projection room and check out the equipment. By some divine intervention, set out to ruin every good thing in your life, Pan had been assigned the same task. The silence was so loud it almost deafened you.

“(Y/N), I-“

“Don’t, Pan. Just don’t.” You breathed out, shaking your head as you concentrated on mopping the creaky wooden boards.

He paused at that, looking down at his hands that had just been sweeping dust off the shelves. “I want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Just leave it. I get it, you’re Pan. It wasn’t ever supposed to work out.”

A breath pulled from his chest and he paused before speaking. “You used to call me Anthony.”

You stopped at that, the mop handle stilling in your hands as you sighed. “Yeah. I used to do a lot of things.”

He didn’t say anything else.

The day was bleeding into star-perforated night as you finished up. The group of nine was gathered in a group, some turning in a slow, awed circle as they took a look at a new, reborn Neverland in all its revived glory.

“We did it.” Oak breathed, a huge grin filled with pride gleaming on his face.

“Yeah. We did.” You laughed. “Our date is set for next Saturday night. There are some posters up already, we just need to get on filling our concession menu. Let’s get on that. Oh, and Nibs?”

“What?” He turned, raising an eyebrow.

“Weed brownies don’t count.” You grinned, propping your hands on your hips.

“Well, fuck! There goes my only idea.” He returned the grin.

“Thanks for helping out, (Y/N).” Oak smiled.

“Oh, of course. Good luck on Saturday.” You stepped backwards, starting to get some headway on the path back to the highway.

“Wait, are you not coming?” Slightly frowned, and you could see Pan turn to face you at his words.

“Well, I…I wasn’t sure if it would be…like, weird? I don’t really-“

“(Y/N), Neverland is your place too.” Oak offered you a grin.

“Yeah,” Curly mumbled.

“You’re as much of a Lost Boy as we are.” Tink nodded.

Her statement made an immortal feeling of delight rise up in your chest, and all of a sudden you were grinning harder than you ever had in your life.

“Holy shit. I love you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nibs chuckled. “Get out of here.”

Casablanca seemed a million years away, and even in your excitement to see Humphrey Boggart delivering those iconic lines, Pan’s attempts to smooth things over stayed with you just as long. It seemed you were never far enough from that boy to ever forget about him.

Casablanca went well. So did The Maltese Falcon. It wasn’t until you decided to show Rebel With a Cause that things truly, completely went to shit. It could have been the influence of an insurgent James Dean in the role of a rebellious teen, but Neverland became the backdrop for a split lip, a couple bruised knuckles and a bloody nose.

The idea had been going better than ever. People’s newfound love for anything vintage fit in well with the drive-in location and crowds of people were arriving every night to find an excuse to make out with someone in the back of a truck, or just to bring a couple friends to witness Mary Astor as an iconic femme fatale. Rebel With a Cause was just entering it’s opening sequence when the purr of motorcycles caught your ear and Oak stood up abruptly, searching to find Pan’s gaze and keep it.

He only uttered one word. “Pirates.”

Immediately, Anthony sprang from his seat, Nibs, Curly, and Tink following him without hesitation.

“Pirates? What the hell does that mean?” You turned to Jordan and Leslie for an explanation.

They paused for a moment, sharing a look before turning to address you. “You better come and see.” Jordan beckoned you out the door of the projection room.

It was dark out and the hushed murmur of teenagers cuddled into blankets and entwined with their dates dissipated easily in between the pines. Everything seemed to be at peace. Through the dark, you could make out Pan’s form as he led the way to the pathway. Several figures were approaching to meet them. The Twins at your side, you warily made your way to join the group. Oak sent you a silent, but comforting look. The air tingled with crackling electricity; everyone was on edge.

As you approached, Pan caught a glance of you out of the corner of his eye and instantly stepped just an edge closer in front of you, not completely obstructing your vision but making it a clear, protective stance.

A boy approached, shaking his blonde, windswept hair back into a neat style. He had a sly grin that was more unsettling than clever. There was a glint in his blue eyes that made your heart churn uncomfortably. He was dangerous. That much was clear.

“Pan!” The boy laughed, and the sound sent a chilling shiver down your spine. It was so hollow. “Good to see you again, buddy.”

“Hook.” Anthony replied, but there was not even an attempt at civility in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I heard that you were planning on sending your dear old Poverty King here, off to college! Jasmine mentioned the fundraiser, blah, blah, long story short, I came to visit!” His grin only grew and he propped his hands on his hips.

The female who had been hovering at his shoulder came forward, and her beauty astounded you. She had dark hair braided together, and it settled nicely against her shoulder. Her eyes, however, were void of any emotion. She was just as cold as this Hook character, if not more.

“You didn’t even invite us,” she pouted, leaning her head against Hook’s shoulder.

Slightly stepped forward, rolling his eyes. “We had no reason to, you were unwanted, Smee. God, I can’t actually say your name without laughing. Where the fuck do you get something like-“

“What Slightly means to say,” Oak cut in, shooting him a glance. “Is that what we’re doing is up to us. We’d appreciate it if this ended right here and now.”

Hook pouted, stepping forward. “That’s not nice, my dear, broke, friend. No need to be unsociable now.”

Pan made his way forward from the group, abandoning his protective stance in front of you. The leaders of both groups met in the middle. “James, my patience is running out. I can only say “please” so many times before it evolves into a simple, “fuck you”.”

Hook narrowed his eyes, assessing his options. “Yeah? Well I don’t play nice.” As he took note of your presence, his gaze transferred almost immediately, away from Anthony. “Oh, and who do we have here?”

He moved forward, coming dangerously close as his eyes raked, unashamedly, up and down your body. The distance between you was closing, and fast, until Tink appeared at your side.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” She murmured. Her voice was soft but it trembled with fury. You felt a swell of gratitude for her.

“Hey, I’m just acquainting myself with this…lovely thing.” He smiled, an act that looked unnatural on his gaunt face. Just as his hand brushed against your cheek, a blurred movement came out of nowhere, and suddenly James was on the ground. You stumbled backward, heart tumbling in your chest.

“You do not fucking touch her, ever again.” Anthony stepped forward, leaning over James’ crumpled body. “Hear me? Not ever, you fucking-“ He was halfway through a kick when Hook hurled himself forward and landed a punch that made you cringe. As Anthony wound up to punch him again, you hurried towards him, reaching a hand out to grasp his shoulder and stabilize him.

“Anthony,” you breathed, turning to face him, eyes imploring with every ounce of energy you had. His nose was bleeding, bad. “Please, don’t. He’s not worth it.”

James’ voice made you turn. “Listen, babe, I know you’re trying to help and everything, but maybe just let the men settle this, yeah?”

Jaw clenching, you turned to him with a sweet smile. “Oh, anything for you. Just one thing.” You opened your palm and jabbed up, the heel of your hand crushing his nose up with a satisfying sound. He tumbled backward, only stopping when Jasmine hurried to help him up.

A pause echoed in the space. Every eye in the place was turned to you. Then, Tink spoke.

“(Y/N), that was fucking awesome, holy shit!” She let out a disbelieving laugh.

In your moment of glory, you forgot the presence of the Pirates, and it wasn’t until the sound of Curly punching someone made you realize the situation, that you actually turned to see what was happening.

There was movement everywhere. Curly had managed to grab one of Hook’s men and they were in a merciless grapple. Every time the Pirate seemed to get the advantage, Slightly was there to even out the odds with a vicious uppercut. Pan seemed to be right in the centre of it, strands of hair floating about his angelic face, blood bright red in the darkness, every one of his movements the epitome of beautiful. You dimly registered that Jordan was shaking you, imploring you to get the attention of the group. Oak was busy trying to shake off another one of Hook’s men, who Tink had swarmed to annihilate. Everything was happening at once.

“Stop,” you mumbled, but your voice disappeared in the endless sounds. “Stop, you guys…stop!”

The sharpness of your voice made an impact, and the sound echoed all the way down the path. The fighting slowed to a stop and you stepped forward, heading right into the middle of the fray to address Hook and Pan.

“This ends now. Hook, this is our home. You do not have the right to enter and do as you please. Get the fuck out right now, before I break your nose again, I swear to God.” Your voice was strong and level.

James’ jaw clenched in frustration, but he pushed away from Pan and beckoned the rest of his men with an open palm. Within the space of three minutes, they were halfway back down the path, heading back to their motorcycles.

All of the Lost Boys seemed to release a breath, all at the same time. You took a look around, assessing. Curly had a split lip. Anthony’s nose was still bleeding. Slightly’s knuckles were black and blue. And you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A slow but bright smile came to your face. “I hope that’s the last time we ever see them again.”

All tension seemed to bleed from the group in an instant. It started with Slightly’s laughter, then the Twins, then Oak, and pretty soon, everyone was laughing. It felt cathartic, like this was what people meant by high school being the best years of your life. It was the people that made it so good.

“We should probably get back to James Dean,” Oak grinned.

“Yeah,” Leslie agreed, chuckling. “Let’s go.”

You stayed back, checking on members of the group who had gotten injured, but you were met mostly with triumphant smiles. The Lost Boys were, after all, adrenaline seekers of sorts, and this was a perfect fix.

Though you had tried to avoid Anthony for as long as possible, you fell into step beside him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” He was looking down, words muffled.

“No. Anthony, you’re not. Hey, wait up. Look at me.” You reached a hand out to stop his steps and turned him to face you.

The blood hadn’t quite stopped, and it looked quite bad. You huffed, a little miffed at his stubbornness, and reached into your pocket to receive a cloth from the projection room. As you pressed it to his nose, an attempt to stop the bleeding, you noticed a grin on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” You raised a cryptic eyebrow.

“You called me Anthony again.” He chuckled a bit, trying hard not to jostle you with the movement.

His words made you stop, and you bit down on your chapped lips, deep in thought.

“Yeah.”

“(Y/N).”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed the words out.

His words meant much more than the surface suggested. It was an apology for everything: the fight, the lies, and the heartbreak. In an instant, you recognized the soft side of the boy you were very quickly coming to care for.

“It’s okay.” You attempted a smile, and it was smile, but still there.

He stared down at you, a sort of awe opening in his expression as you smiled up at him. Reaching up, he cradled your jaw with hands still sore from throwing punches, a thumb brushing against your cheek. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing briefly as two conflicting sides of thought warred viciously in your mind.

All indulgence had to end at some point. Quickly, you pulled away, taking a deep breath.

“We should catch up with the others.”

Surprisingly, the rest of the night went along without a hitch. After the movie ended, the rest of the group stayed for an extra hour, spending the time joking around and, slowly but surely, cleaning up the projection room and the lot. At this point, night had fallen completely, but the golden light spilling from the three thrift store lamps in the shack seemed just right. Pan had left early, mumbling something about being busy. No one had believed it, but then again, no one had questioned it.

“I am exhausted,” you breathed out, collapsing back onto the couch.

“Breaking someone’s nose’ll do that,” Nibs grinned.

Tink let out a laugh, cigarette ember glowing in the dusky light. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

You cringed. “It was bad, wasn’t it.”

“Badass, yeah,” Slightly added, sending you a thumbs up from the side of the room.

Laughing, you heaved yourself off the couch and headed toward the door. “Badass or not, I gotta get some sleep. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Wait a minute, (Y/N),” Oak called out, turned to fish in his backpack for something. “We have a present for you, since this was all your idea.”

You stopped, eyes widening. “Oak, it was nothing, really, I-“

“We insist.” Slightly grinned.

As Oak stood, you recognized the colour and texture of the fabric in his hands, even from the opposite side of the room. It was a leather jacket, just like all of theirs, but it was more than that. It was a symbol. Oak tossed it to you with a grin.

“Your initiation is complete. You deserve that.” He crossed his arms, cracking his knuckles absent-mindedly.

“I…thank you.” You murmured, running your fingertips over the jacket.

“Don’t thank us,” Tink turned to you with a twinkle in your eyes. “It was Pan’s idea.”

It seemed that that boy was always taking you by surprise. With a delighted laugh, you smiled. “I’ll wear it with pride. For now, though, I really do have to go.”

Curly was the one who spoke up. It was such a rare occurrence that everyone turned to witness his words.

“Welcome to the Lost Boys, (Y/N).”

You sent him a smile from the doorway. “It’s an honour.”

#anthony ramos x reader #anthony ramos imagine #hamilcast imagine #peter pan au #king of the lost boys #kotlb

206 notes · View notes

iwrotemywayto-revolution · 8 years ago

Text

How do you measure a year?

Request: soulmate au- when you reach 18, you stop ageing until you meet your soulmate.

Pairing: Anthony Ramos x reader

Warnings: mild angst

Word count: 2,797

A/N: welcome to day one of the @hamwriters writeathon (aka AU time)! I’m posting a fic a day this week (woah) and I am so excited pls come and scream with me. endless thanks to @gratitudejoyandsorrow for proofreading and being awesome ^-^

schedule for the rest of this week here

@pearltheartist, @whitestorm547

1783

You celebrated your eighteenth birthday in seventeen eighty three. Your parents, ageing together for twenty years, looked on fondly as you accepted their gift- new writing supplies and a diary.

“Write about your life,” your father suggested. He had fought in the revolutionary war alongside Washington himself, meeting your mother when he had returned from to New York to begin his life anew.

“Thank you,” you told him. Your best friend Theodosia had already found her soulmate and, despite you being born before her, she now looked older.

You carefully signed your name on the inside cover. The ink shone on the page and you decided you would write a letter to your soulmate each and every day until you met them.

–

2015

You pushed your way through the streets of New York, shivering in the cold. Having invested your money well over the last two hundred and thirty years, you didn’t have to work full time, and could afford to spend your time in coffee shops, writing.

You were on your two hundredth journal. You always carried your first one and your latest one with you- the beginning and the end of your life, you reasoned. You had written over eighty-five thousand letters to your soulmate.

And you had never met them.

A couple of times you had tried to find someone else- someone who had lost their soulmate or who hadn’t found them yet either, but it never worked. If they had known their soulmate, you could never be enough.

You slipped into your current favourite coffee shop- a two story independent shop that was a stones throw away from Broadway. You wondered idly if there was a new show you could go and see, and decided to head over to take a look later.

There was a new barista at the counter. Her hair a golden-brown that caught the light as she chatted animatedly to her coworkers. You slid into your favourite seat - a cushy armchair by the window - and pulled out your journal.

You opened it to a fresh page and pulled out a pen and a paperclip. You wrote the date above the lines and fished around in your jacket pocket for a moment before finding your ticket to an art exhibition you had been to. You clipped it to the page and started to write.

Dear Soulmate,

New York is so different now- so busy, so tall, and so alive. It’s no longer the city I grew up in, but I suppose the world moves on even if I don’t.

There was an exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art about soulmates - I saved my ticket. They had photos of people with their soulmates, dressed in the clothing of the era they were born in. The kind of thing they might have worn on their eighteenth birthday.

Couples from all over the world - every nationality, every gender, every sexuality. Little placards letting you know how long they’d waited for each other. People born during World War One - a horrible time - meeting their soulmates today.

It gave me hope that I might still find you.

You closed your journal as the waitress brought over your coffee, setting it down with a smile. You thanked her.

Over two centuries you had met people who had waited for their soulmates for just as long as you had. Many of them had watched their families die, as you had, and struggled to keep faith. Every one of them had found their soulmates eventually and promised you it was worth it.

So you waited.

–

You decided you might as well walk along Broadway and see if there was anything you wanted to see. You were a big fan of Broadway- had seen it grow up after it reopened in 1798.

Hamilton was the new musical attracting the most attention at the moment, but you had dithered about going. You knew it was set around the life of Hamilton and during an era you had lived in.

You had met Hamilton once. Your parents had been invited to a ball that celebrated Jefferson’s return from France. Hamilton had been in the corner, talking about his debt plan.

He had been handsome and kind enough to let you discuss his debt plan with him. He had been nearing thirty - one of the lucky ones who met his soulmate in the form of Elizabeth Schuyler not too many years after his eighteenth birthday.

Almost a decade later, you had met Philip. He had been as dashing and interesting as his father, and he had courted you for a while.

You remembered hearing of his death and blinked away tears. You hadn’t thought of him in well over a century.

A crowd of people had gathered outside the theatre, applauding and laughing as two performers- you assumed they were Hamilton stars- sang a song. You approached, curious.

One of the performers- a curly-haired guy with freckles and an infectious smile, was singing with three other people as backup. “What the heck I gotta do to be with you?” he asked, dancing around a pretty woman in a winter jacket and a bobble hat.

The singers behind him- one tall man with dark skin and curly, a shorter woman with long black hair and a sweet smile, and a man with a beanie and a powerful build- echoed him. “What the heck I gotta do?”

Freckles reached for the woman’s hand and grinned, “Tell me who I gotta be for you to be with me-”

You watched, smiling. The main singer was cute, you decided. And he sang nicely. You went into the theatre to see if you could get tickets.

–

@Y/N

People keep telling me to go and see @Lin_Manuel’s #Hamilton because I met the guy way back in the 1780s… should I?

You hadn’t been able to get tickets for Hamilton until October, so you had decided to think about it first. You headed to your apartment, hearing your phone buzz with a notification just as you unlocked the door.

@Lin_Manuel

@Y/N if you met the original Hamilton you have to see our #YayHamlet

You paused and smiled, fingers hovering over your phone.

@Y/N

@Lin_Manuel I tried to get tickets but they’re sold out until next year - you’re more popular than he ever was.

Lin replied almost instantly, the banner notification appearing at the top of your screen.

@Lin_Manuel

Bahahaha! I have tickets for tonight’s show if you’d like to see my #Hamilton?

@Y/N

I’ll review kindly. Did you find someone hot to play Philip?

@Lin_Manuel

@Y/N You’ll have to wait and see. Come backstage afterwards?

You sent back an enthusiastic yes and Lin sent you the details privately. Realising that you did have evening plans after all, you rushed home to change into something nice.

–

The show was amazing. You laughed and cried and clapped until your hands were sore. Lin had done it against the odds - you recognised the men and women you had known centuries ago brought to new life by his actors. You saw a story told anew by America now.

An usher lead you backstage. Still wiping away tears, you waited for the cast to get changed. Lin was the first to arrive, back in jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his hair in a bun.

“That was amazing!” you told him sincerely.

“Thank you,” Lin beamed. He paused. “So you met Hamilton?”

You nodded. “The year Jefferson got back from France - at a ball.”

Lin closed his eyes, visualising it. “What was he like?”

“Like you said: ‘intelligent eyes and a hunger-pang frame’,” you laughed, “sharp as a tack.”

Others started to arrive. You recognised them from the programme and your hasty googling. Daveed, who had been singing outside earlier, and Renee arrived and greeted you with grins. A celebrity was backstage too, so they left to greet them after a moment.

“So you’re our eighteenth century girl?” a new voice asked. You turned to find the singer from earlier- curly hair now in a ponytail. A dual performer, you remembered- as Philip and John.

“Born in seventeen sixty-five,” you admitted.

Anthony wolf-whistled. “Woah- still waiting then?” You nodded. “Who did you meet?” he asked curiously, taking a seat beside you. “From the show, I mean.”

“Hamilton, Eliza, Philip, Washington, Madison-” you recited, their faces flashing in your mind as you said their names, “and Jefferson.”

Anthony looked across at the Hamilton on the wall opposite, littered with signatures and messages, “Did we do them justice?”

“More than that,” you said, “You told a better story.”

You chatted with Anthony for a little while, then with Pippa and Jas, who wanted to hear about what the theatre used to be like. They were all lovely, and you went home much later than usual that night.

You thanked Lin on the way out. “Maybe you should hire me as a historical consultant,” you suggested with a grin, “that could be fun.”

Lin barked out a laugh, “Maybe I will.”

–

When you woke up a month later, there was something different. You brushed it off as feeling sleepy and started to get ready for your day. You were thinking of trying to get a job again, more because of boredom than actual necessity.

You rinsed and froze, having caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Was it just you, or did you look older? You knew your face too well - two hundred years would do that - and you could have sworn you looked like you had aged.

Not wanting to get overly excited, you phoned your doctor and arranged an appointment to see if you were ageing again.

–

You waited anxiously on the chair opposite the doctor as he clicked through to your results. You had taken an ageing test - developed as people began to realise that it could take months or even years for the ageing process to be noticed.

“Ah Y/N L/N,” your doctor murmured. He wore a tarnished silver band on his ring finger but didn’t look a day over eighteen. He smiled, “You’ve been ageing for about a month now.”

Your breath caught and you stared. “I have?”

He nodded. “Do you not know who it is?” he asked sympathetically.

You thought back a month- you had had a busy week a month ago and, what with Hamilton and joining an art course, had met loads of new people. Where were you supposed to start?

–

Knowing you had to have met them made it slightly easier, you thought as you walked towards the Richard Rogers. You had made a list of all the places you had been a month ago and, if you knew them, the names of the people you had met there.

The coffee shop had yielded no results- the barista you had met wasn’t eighteen yet- and nor had the small organic coop you sometimes frequented. Now, amidst the crowds, you were trying to get to the Hamilton cast.

Lin had given you his phone number when you had been at Hamilton, seriously considering your offer of being a historical consultant. You opened a new message.

To: Lin (15:27)

Hey Lin, do you mind if I pop by? I met my soulmate about a month ago and idk who it is. - Y/N

You waited anxiously outside the theatre until your phone buzzed.

From: Lin (15:29)

No problem! I’ll meet you at the entrance. - Lin

Lin appeared a moment later, a big grin on his face. He wasn’t in costume yet, a grey hoodie in place of his jacket and his hair pulled back into a messy bun. “Congratulations!” he grinned, pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks,” you said, “but I don’t know who it is yet.”

Lin gestured for you to follow him and headed back inside. “Well,” he looked thoughtful, “there are a few people who haven’t found their soulmates yet- Ant, Jas, Ariana, Andrew, Daveed-”

“Are they all here?” you asked, feeling abruptly nervous. You could be about to meet your soulmate-

“Ariana and Daveed are on their way,” Lin said. You followed him down a set of stairs and into an open area that seemed to be acting like something of a common room.

Anthony dashed up the stairs and stopped in front of Lin, looking decidedly rumpled. His hair was falling out of its ponytail and his shirt was buttoned up all wrong. “Lin,” he breathed, “the doctor said I’ve been ageing for a month.”

You felt your jaw drop. Lin grinned. “That’s great Anthony -”

Anthony gripped Lin by the arm. “How am I supposed to find them?” he asked frantically, “You gotta help me, man.”

Lin laughed. “It’s funny you should say that,” he said as he slipped an arm around your waist, “do you remember Y/N?”

You weren’t sure if you were going to throw up, faint, or cry. Maybe all of them. “Hi,” you managed shakily, “I’ve been ageing for about a month too.”

Anthony reached out a tentative hand and took yours, something like wonder in his eyes. “You think we’re…?”

“Maybe?” His hand felt right in yours. You held on as if he were your lifeline- and perhaps he was. Weren’t soulmates supposed to save each other? “We can try, can’t we?”

He smiled, and it was like the sun. “We can try.”

–

Six months after

You wandered back into your bedroom after your shower, pausing in the doorway when you saw Anthony was still asleep. You took a moment to memorise the image - something you would never of thought you could have had six months ago. But here you were.

Climbing back into bed, you started to pepper Anthony’s face with kisses - one per freckle. He woke up with a groan and rolled over so his head was on your lap. You smiled down at him. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

He smiled sleepily, reaching blindly for your hand. Instead of taking it, you put your journal in it. Anthony frowned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “What’s this, babe?”

“My first journal,” you said.

Anthony opened it to the flyleaf where your name, your age, and the year you’d received it were written carefully. Y/N L/N, age 18, 1783. He flipped to the first letter. “Y/N -” he started, and you knew he was worrying again. “I should have found you sooner.”

You shook your head and took his hand. “I wrote you a letter every day,” you explained, “a diary, almost.”

You could see him doing the maths, running through the centuries. He pulled you closer. “How many journals are there?”

“About a hundred,” you said, ”Some are missing now, but I still have about forty.”

He traced your handwriting carefully, as if afraid that the pages would disintegrate. You rested your head on his shoulder. “Can I read them?”

“Of course,” you turned your head to press a kiss to his shoulder, “but maybe breakfast first?”

–

A year after

You were curled up on the couch reading when Anthony made it home. He was still at Hamilton, working hard, coming home late. You snatched evenings and lunch dates and early morning conversations and treasured every moment.

“Hey Ant,” you called out, but got no response.

Returning to your book, it was a moment before you realised he was sitting down beside you. “Hey,” he smiled, and you closed your book so you could lean across and kiss him. “I finished your journals,” he murmured when you had broken apart a little.

“Oh?” you asked. You closed your eyes for a second, ready to hear what he had thought of the thousands of letters you had written him. What if he thought he didn’t know you at all?

When you opened your eyes he was gone from beside you. You looked around and stilled. He was knelt before the couch, eyes wet, looking at you with open adoration.

“I think you’ve waited long enough for me,” he said quietly, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, realising you were shaking only when he started to rub circles into your palm. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

You were vaguely aware they you had started to cry. “You’re stuck with me forever,” you told him, pulling him to his feet.

He laughed as you pulled him closer for a kiss. “Is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yes,” you promised. “We’ll grow old together.”

–

You had lived two hundred and fifty-two years, seen wars lost and won, travelled and met people long dead. You had seen terrible loss and incredible beauty, but nothing compared to Anthony’s smile when you said “I do”.

#anthony ramos x reader #anthony ramos imagine #hamwriters writeathon #hamwriters #anthony ramos imagines #hamilton cast x reader

864 notes · View notes