#I just remembered I can post whatever I want forever so I shall indulge my followers in random thoughts I have
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I'm not saying old Deuteronomy has a favorite kitten, but I do think that he tends to call all the kittens "little ones" where as sillabub is "little star"
#uhm uhm uhm#I just remembered I can post whatever I want forever so I shall indulge my followers in random thoughts I have#old deuteronomy#Sillabub#CH
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
sircantus if you decide to ever write transformers fanfiction I just want to know that my life shall forever be yours. On the darkest of days I will guide you with any sliver of light I can find. If you are freezing I shall burn my skin in order to keep yours warm. If you were to call I will come running across the horizon, not stopping until I reach and aid you with whatever is troubling. If you were to ask of me to kill a man I would do it with grace. You have made some of the best stories and while I may no longer be as big in the mcyt fandom, I will dine on your fics as if they were the finest of bread and wine. I shall forever remember the old days with fondness due to your contributions. I thank you for sharing your works with us and I feel as if nothing in this world will ever repay you for all that you've done for us. As a young autistic person you fics are top notch and have led me to getting fixated on mcyts again. If I touch anything you write I will become absorbed so thoroughly that i can not escape, no matter what it may be. You have inspired countless ideas that I've had over the many years, and while I am not yet confident in my writing to post all of them or even to begin writing them out, you've inspired me to post the stuff I have written out. While what you may write for may seem silly, your stories are a work of art little can replicate.
(So sorry if this made you uncomfortable at all but I just had to write out something to express how much you've influenced me and many others. And seeing you even mention a fandom I am now so invested in? Oh it was a form a whiplash I was unaware one could get.)
BAHAHA
god i relate i relate so much no this is fantastic dont you worry there is no greater joy than indulging in the creations of someone’s passionate creativity (I LOVE YOU FANFIC WRITERS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH) and im thrilled to be that silly person for you i love throwing words at people
As for writing about transformers tho the closest i got once was writing an AU…but i do adore transformers, i grew up with the cartoons on a lil cd collection my father had hehe (Hotrod my beloved)
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, Phoebe. I’m back :)
How are you doing? Just put whatever you feel like here! This ask is the Phoebe Show; make it yours!
Lyssa, it is always a pleasure to see you in my notifs, but especially in my ask box! Thank you for filling it with kind words, awesome prompts, and fun questions for me to play around with.
This blog is the closest I imagine I'll ever come to having the Phoebe Delia Show, and since you have given me free rein with this ask, I shall endeavor to make it count.
I've gotten some incredible asks about my interests, but I'm going to answer a question that has been asked by exactly no one and rank Taylor Swift's albums.
This will be in order of my favorites; this isn't necessarily a reflection of what I think the rank would be in terms of objective quality; instead, this is based on my own personal enjoyment of the albums.
As always, I will provide a little explanation as to my reasoning, because I am nothing if not indulgent.
I actually really surprised myself with this ranking; as I looked through the albums I evaluated each by counting the number of songs I liked off of each one, and the ranking I thought I had has now changed. (I will explain in my comments!).
So! With that said. The Phoebe Delia Show Presents: Ranking Taylor Swift Albums.
1. Speak Now--To me, there is only one skip on this entire album; it is bop after bop. (If you're wondering, I think "Innocent" is the skip). Every song is just fun! I should also point out that this is also my favorite in part because Taylor said it was inspired by theater/Broadway.
2. 1989--I'm gonna be honest and say that I'm ashamed to have sort of slept on this album for so long. Don't get me wrong--I listened to and enjoyed it a lot when it came out, but I always sort of automatically pushed it further down on my list in favor of my 3rd choice because I liked the songs on my 3rd choice more. But now that I'm older and my music taste has somewhat evolved, I think I can say that 1989 is my 2nd favorite. There are truly no skips on this album. Yes, I know I said SN has a skip, but that album holds a special place in my heart so it gets number 1. I was thinking it over today, and while Taylor has always been amazing, I think this is the album that launched her into superstardom. We, her fans, knew she could do anything, but she still shocked us all by making the transition to an entirely pop album. Remember the "Blank Space" and "Bad Blood" music videos? I still think those are two fo my favorite of her mvs, though LWYMMD is a close second.
3. Red--Oh, my beloved. This album is wonderful. I have a lot of memories associated with this one, particularly watching the WANGBT music video and the IKYWT parody with the fucking goat that makes me laugh so hard even to this day. I am SO pumped for TV in November!! And while, yes, "All Too Well" is my favorite song on the album (and my fave TS song overall), "Holy Ground" is slept on and amazing.
4. folklore--This album is probably the most meaningful to me of them all just because of when it came out. We as an entire global community were struggling, and I know I had immense privilege to have been healthy and safe during that time. Still, like everyone else, I was depressed, lonely, and felt trapped inside my home and inside my mind. I will never forget listening to this album in my room and gasping when I heard TIMT. Not long after this album came out, I also lost my family dog, and this album was essential in helping me grieve. This album saved my sanity and gave me a cathartic outlet. I will be forever grateful to Taylor for writing it.
5. Reputation--This is another one for which I have a lot of memories. I will never forget when the LWYMMD music video came out and the world lost its entire mind. Taylor said there are still easter eggs we missed and I want someone to find them please and thank you. There are a few songs on this album that I'm not obsessed with, but the storytelling is so cohesive and creative. On the surface, one might think Taylor was being petty or whiny, but if you look closer--and remember the utter hell she was going through at the time--I think there are deeper meanings than her just getting back at Kim and Kanye.
6. Fearless--Oh, this album. It has some of her most iconic songs: YBWM, "White Horse," "Love Story"," "Forever and Always," etc. I truly wish I could tie this one with Rep, but I think Rep edges this one out *just* barely with songwriting/lyrical quality. I also don't know if I'll ever fully get over the fact that she kept "Mr. Perfectly Fine" from us for so long, but I suppose I can consider the 10 min "All Too Well" on Red TV to be proper repayment. ;)
7. evermore--I could not believe my eyes when she announced this album. How can this woman write this fast and this well!! I will never forget listening to "champagne problems," "no body, no crime," and "tolerate it" in particular. I ranked this after reputation just bc I think I enjoy listening to Rep more, but some of the songwriting on this album is *chefs kiss.*
8. Lover--I know, I know, I'm sorry. I don't want to put this one so low on the list but I just kind of can't put it any higher? I really love some of the songs on this album, but SYGB is too sad for me, "London Boy" kinda annoys me I'm sorry, and I just never really got into INTHAF or "Afterglow." But, that said, every other song on the album is a bop, even ME!, although I listen to the live version over the studio recording. It's a great album though.
9. Taylor Swift (Debut album)--I feel a little bad ranking this so low but I cannot honestly tell you that this album is better than her others, and something has to be last on the list. There are also some great, classic songs on this album. So, instead of being critical, I'm instead going to say that I remember vividly seeing a snippet of "Teardrops On My Guitar" advertised on Disney Channel for Radio Disney. It makes me smile to think of how far she's come since then.
And that concludes this episode of The Phoebe Delia Show! Tune in next time where I post some other self-indulgent opinion about one of my interests and hope it reaches people who care to read it :)
Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).
Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!
#taylor swift#taylor nation#swifties#red#fearless#1989#speak now#folklore#evermore#reputation#lover#album ranking#taylor swift album ranking#phoebedelia#ask box#ask me#ama#ask me anything#ask me stuff#ask me things
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Consumption: A Critical Role Fanfic
Okay so for day 7 of @essek-week...it’s a Vampire AU but I feel like I should tell you guys the story behind this fic because it’s honestly pretty funny. I’m part of the Essek Theylss Fanclub Server and it’s an amazing place full of amazing people and we have a rule about being inclusive. Which is like hella awesome, and one of the rules is no nsfw content to make sure everyone is comfortable. Which is like, a great rule and I’m 100% for it. But I’m writing this fic...a vampire AU...and I go...wow this is sexy (because vampires are sexy)...I think it’s too sexy to go with my other fics...uh....I’m probably not going to be able to post this in the ETFC...well you know what I may just go all the way then.
So that’s how we got this fic. Enjoy!
Trigger warnings: NSFW, Vampire related content (biting, blood drinking, hypnotism), corruption kink, master and servant play, voyeurism
Read on AO3
You would think facing an eternity of endless darkness would be depressing, but Essek often found that the key was to remain busy. If you remained busy, interesting things tended to happen. One couldn't be busy all the time though, and even the undead couldn't stay awake forever without suspicion, so when that happened Essek commissioned a nice coffin for a handsome rich socialite who oh so tragically found their life cut short in whatever way it was fashionable to go in the time period. And then he played dead for a few years before picking up again wherever he left off.
This time, it was consumption. There was a small closed casket funeral because an open casket was so gouache, what was the point of everyone looking at you when you couldn't enjoy their attention? And then Essek buckled down for a nice long nap in a marble mausoleum that was in a graveyard in a property by a mansion that of course was in his name and tied up in so much legal nonsense that no one but the person who had the deed would ever be able to claim it.
So Essek slept, and slept for a good long while. Sleep for a vampire was different than for a mortal, for all intents and purposes it was much like death had been...even if death had been a temporary state for Essek when he had first been turned. There were no dreams or consciousness of any sort, just darkness. It wasn’t comforting or distressing, it just was and there was nothing else to it. Essek, when he was awake, often wondered at the simple pleasure of it. When he was mortal he had tranced, dreamt seldom, but now he couldn’t even remember what that had been like. It seemed too messy for his tastes.
And then one night, Essek woke up.
Essek knew immediately that something was different than usual because he definitely was not ready to emerge from sleep. Usually he would awaken when his body at least ran out of its stores of energy, but this was not the case this time. It was the sense that someone else was there that sent him on alert. There was someone else’s presence ripping him from his darkness and back into consciousness. He was thirsty (ravenous he supposed) and outside of his coffin Essek could hear the sound of a heartbeat thick in his ears, of something metallic being settled down. A vampire hunter? No, there was no garlic and there was no sense of danger. He couldn’t yet smell, because the coffin was sealed, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt...would it? After all, whoever had awoken him had clearly been rude.
Essek remained still as the lid of his coffin was slid off heavily. Once the coffin was cracked open the scent of a human was perfumed in the air, there was silver but not enough and far enough away that Essek knew he was not dealing with a hunter. But he waited, and waited--
There was an intake of breath, and then-bizarrely Essek felt a finger trace his cheek.
Essek grabbed the offending hand, causing whoever it was to yelp in surprise. Essek’s eyes did not need any time to adjust to the darkness as he lunged out of his coffin and pinned the attacker to the floor. There was a man underneath him, frozen in fear. Essek’s other hand found an anchor, fingers were settled on his throat--hard enough to threaten but not hard enough to kill. The man underneath him was scruffy and underfed, his heart moved and at a jackrabbit rhythm in his chest. There was candlelight--the fool underneath him had a lantern. In the flickering light there was a blue shine to his eyes and it was the only color he seemed to possess. Everything else about him was sallow and starved and a layer of dust and grime clung to him and soot stained his fingertips and caked his nails.
“I think we both know that you have done something wrong,” Essek admonished him sweetly, like a nanny scolding a misbehaving child. “It is very rude to wake up someone who is sleeping. I shall have you know that. Now, what you are planning on doing to make it up to me is the question.”
“You-you-!” the man stuttered before cutting off in a desperate sound as Essek’s fingers slid up his neck, raising his chin so he could see exactly what treasure he had in front of him. At the sight of the pale freckled skin rooted with thrumming blue-green veins, Essek felt his canines ache and elongate. What an utterly delectable prize this human was in possession of, it would really be a shame not to open it up. Essek could smell the fear rolling off the man in waves, ruining his revelry.
“Now, now. No time for that. Speak convincingly and quickly,” Essek told him, licking his teeth. “I am very hungry and you are extremely distracting. But if you convince me, I may not leave your corpse for the crows to peck at.”
“I did not...mean to disturb you,” the man croaked, struggling beyond his panic. Essek felt him attempt to take a steadying breath. Good, he could take orders. That was a pleasing sign. “I was simply looking for spell components. Tombs and graveyards are full of things that can be used. That was a mistake on my part, one I understand was grievous.”
“So you fancy yourself a tomb robber,” Essek chuckled in spite of himself. He liked this human’s voice, his accent and the soft deep tones of it. “Stealing off the backs and from the coffins of poor dead grandfathers and grandmothers.”
“I am a wizard,” the man corrected guiltily before closing his eyes, the violet hollows underneath stark and beautiful despite what they meant. When he turned his head Essek could see the lantern-light caught in his curls. And below the grime, Essek could tell his hair was a rare red. “A poor one. I ask only for your mercy, that you should leave me alive once you are done feeding from me...not that I deserve it.”
“Perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t,” Essek sighed, giving the man’s wrist a teasing squeeze. He released his fingers from the man’s throat and caught his other wrist before he could move. “Now, relax. This feels so much better when you are at ease.”
Normally Essek would have charmed his victim, but he wanted this one to have the full effect of a feeding. After all, he hadn’t made up his mind yet about whether what he had done was a killable offense. The punishment did have to suit the crime, after all. With little hesitation, Essek savored the sensation of his fangs sheathing into skin. The taste of his blood was utterly exquisite, hot and sweet with the dying embers of his magic. It soothed the ache of his parched throat, instilled new strength into his limbs. The man made a broken noise, caught between a cry and a moan, but then went quiet and still except for the occasional whimper as Essek drank long and deep from him.
He had talent, was easy on the eyes, and had a delicious flavor to boot. It would be a shame to not ruin him, when there were so many more interesting things they could do together.
“Good boy,” Essek purred as he pulled away, careful to press the punctures and blooming green-blue bruises with pressure to stop the bleeding. Though he had been pale before, his intruder was now almost translucent. “See, that was not so bad was it? I have been told that the feeding is as pleasurable for you as it is for me, and you certainly are delicious.”
“More,” slurred his guest, head lolling to the side in an adorable attempt to seduce him back to his neck, where two trails of blood traced the hollow of his throat from the place Essek pressed. “Please...please, more.”
“You are quite talented at begging when you put your mind to it,” Essek soothed, using his free hand to trace his lips, they opened under his touch like a spring flower in the sun. “I will be happy to indulge you again soon, but only once your marrow has seen fit to fill your veins completely. Now tell me, what is your name?”
The man’s blue eyes fluttered open. His expression was utterly guileless and dazed, it made something in Essek shiver in desire. But it would have to wait...good things came to those who waited.
“Caleb...Caleb Widogast,” the man said before frowning, and Essek could see the effort he was putting in trying to think beyond the poisoned haze. As much as Essek would have liked to praise him for it, he also knew the benefit of restraint. After all, why give praise away easily when you could make the beneficiary work for it? The best things always came to those who waited.
“Well Caleb Widogast,” Essek said, testing the name...tasting it, and finding it satisfactory. Caleb was a lovely name, he had always had a penchant for strays. “Tonight seems to be your lucky night. It appears that I have an opening available for a student, and you are in need of a teacher with the funds to support your endeavor. I see no reason why we cannot come to a simple agreement that will benefit us both.”
____________
Caleb settled in nicely to Essek’s estate. He had already proved himself smart, and as sharp with numbers as a knife on top of being a talented wizard once he had the funds. The property itself found its way back into Essek’s hands easily as usual, and Essek found teaching to be a happy way to spend his days and a good excuse to stay inside and away from the light.
Soon enough the whole estate was up and running once more, awoken from its dormancy like a hibernating beast. All the proper signatures and dotted i’s and crossed t’s that usually took Essek some significant effort were dealt with in a manner that was orderly...and honestly impressive. Servants were acquired from the surrounding village with relative ease...which provided Essek with a steady source of sustenance. He had always had a good amount of self-control. Though others in his coven had often accused Essek of being cutthroat, Essek found it to be so much better to keep your meals alive. After all, why feed deeply once and arouse suspicion when instead you could feed lightly and conservatively and stay alive. There was a reason that Essek had outlived a good many of his brethren.
But speaking of aroused…
“My lord…” the maid gasped, her whole body trembling as Essek ran his tongue over her wrist...where she still bled. She was a pretty youthful looking half-elf, not that feminine beauty did much for him outside of just aesthetics. This wasn’t really for him though, and considering the response he was getting from the shadowed alcove by the door the act was appreciated. The dulled effect of the charm kept her compliant...while the poison did its work. However, as he saw when looked off to the side, this was all having its desired effects.
“Now, now, no need to fuss,” Essek bid her as he extricated himself from her wrist, taking his handkerchief from his jacket and tying it to her wrist to stem the flow of her blood. She leaned forward, love-drunk to kiss him but he chuckled as he dodged it, and gave her hand a pat. “That was quite careless of you...holding that knife in such a way. But it is alright now. You may feel a bit lightheaded but that’s normal.”
“Yes...the knife…” the maid repeated, the story seeping into her ears sweetly.
“You know I eat lightly, I’ll have the cook package some food up for you...to make up for the trouble and to keep you strong. Go home to your husband and be sure to get some rest...he’ll tend to your needs well.”
“Thank you...thank you I’ll just…” she said, before swaying and stumbling off. Caleb caught her as she approached the door, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting her go.
Essek took the moment to appreciate him. Even with just a few weeks of good food and Essek's meticulous care he had already filled out nicely. Essek certainly had to pat himself on the back for that. Gone was the diamond in the rough, and there stood a man who looked naturally fit to stand between marble statues and crystal chandeliers. Part of that was the work of Essek's newly acquired tailor, outfitting Caleb in high collars and waistcoats that brought out the blue in his eyes and the red in his tied back curls. Truly on that night Caleb looked the part of the nervous bachelor arriving at the matchmaker. He was a present for Essek to unwrap.
“Make sure that’s done, Caleb,” Essek said as he tossed the napkin on the table before offering Caleb his own pristine plate and motioning towards the filled dining room table. “And please, as always feel free to help yourself as well. I have heard from the other servants that the cook’s beans are to die for.”
“You are doing this on purpose,” Caleb accused softly. “You have been for weeks.”
“Oh? Are you not hungry?” Essek asked innocently as he placed the plate down and pushed out his chair to angle towards Caleb. “Well, I suppose I am doing it on purpose. You were nearly skin and bones when we first met and having a mansion with no cook is suspicious-”
“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Caleb said, blue eyes dark with longing as he crossed the space between them and stood before him. “Night after night...you make me watch this. Why?”
“Am I making you uncomfortable, Caleb?” Essek asked, crossing his legs. “You should be grateful you aren’t my meal...that I’ve given you a warm bed and books and spell components and a job. A little blood is enough to make you regret it? Why...now I am feeling a little unappreciated, Caleb. I suppose I can excuse you from this...all you have to do is ask.”
Caleb’s breath caught, loud and ragged. His face was flushed deliciously, rounded ears warmed through with color. Essek could hear his heartbeat from here and his grin felt victorious.
“So it is not the watching then, you naughty thing? You like that part, I know you do...watching me ravish a poor maid or stablehand. Though I must admit the maidens are more for your benefit then mine.. they don't get my blood going if you'll excuse the tawdy joke. Perhaps it is something else, Caleb? Go ahead, tell me.”
“Essek...I…” Caleb swallowed heavily, fists clenching and unclenching. His voice cracked and frayed with barely contained desire, as plain as the very attractive nose on his very attractive face. “Why is it them? Why not...why is it not…?”
“Ah...I see,” Essek said, a victorious smile spreading across his face. “Am I making you jealous? All of these things I’ve given you...a home...food in your belly and coin in your pocket...my hands bathing you...and yet you feel covetous over this? You know I charm them...they only feel a dull watered down sensation to the pleasure you felt, and yet you are fantasizing about me opening your skin...sinking my fangs into you and filling your veins with poison. How greedy of you, but that’s what you want isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Caleb admitted raggedly, sinking to his knees, taking Essek’s foot in his hand, kissing the top of his shoe. “Yes, please.”
“Ask and you shall receive,” Essek said leaning on his hand as he smiled sharply. “Don’t fret, my love, I’ll give you an even greater pleasure than any of them could ever dream to achieve tonight. I will always give you what you deserve so long as you ask nicely.”
“Thank you,” Caleb gasped, fingers sliding up his pants...hot on his calf and running his tongue along his shin. Essek had known vampires who scoffed at the common pleasure of sex...after all nothing ever would compare to the ecstasy of a feed. The sensation of hot blood filling the mouth and wetting the throat was truly a pleasure most profound. But sex was not just a physical act, and with the right person of a similar mind? Well, that too could be something profound. Essek certainly found something interesting and worthwhile with this beautiful man on his knees before him.
“Patience, Caleb. Patience is indeed a virtue,” Essek promised him. “Go ahead, I’m watching you now Caleb. You have my attention, tell me...what would you like?”
“Anything,” Caleb begged, eyes dilated. Kneeling on the ground he made quite a pretty picture, flushed and wanting already with his legs spread so Essek could see and smell how affected he was. “Anything you want.”
“And if I just want to watch you debase yourself?” Essek asked him, pressing his heel into Caleb's shoulder. “Maybe I’ll deny you instead, you should know by now how entertaining I find that...to see you so tightly wound. Perhaps you don’t even want me? You just want something to fuck into like an animal in heat. I'll find a pretty maiden or handsome gentleman for you to have your wicked way with.”
“No...it’s you, it’s only you,” Caleb promised desperately. “I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll make it good, I’ll-”
“Now, now,” Essek soothed, cradling the back of his head and bringing him to lean against his knees. At the sensation of Essek carting his fingers through his hair, Caleb shuddered. “I’m just teasing. I am sorry if I ever made you feel as if I don’t appreciate you. Tonight I’ll have my fill of you, and you shall have your fill of me. Sometimes it’s the wait that makes it worth it.”
“It’ll never be enough,” Caleb said astutely standing, catching his hand to kiss it. Caleb looked up at him, with eyes half-lidded and tender. They certainly were a pair the two of them, that meeting had been serendipitous in more than one way. After all, a vampire was a creature who only knew how to take...one needed someone to give as well.
“No, I doubt it will be,” Essek observed with a smile just for Caleb.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic Sneak Peak
I’ve been casually working on a oneshot as a gift for @thenwewilldance and since I’m super behind on my editing for Santamental updates this month, thought I’d post a little sneak peak of the first two scenes for her, and for the rest of you!
The Viscount’s Daughter
"I have news," said James urgently.
The queen continued the conversation she was having, ignoring her son completely.
"I said I had news," James repeated, tugging on her sleeve. The banquet was in full swing, and the sound of voices, clattering forks and clinking goblets rumbled like distant thunder all around them. "Mother?"
She brushed his hand away as if it were a fly. "Once the new lawns are finished, the league can reconvene—"
"Mother?"
"—without much delay, I hope. I wouldn't like to start after September and cut down the number of matches, though dear old Perkins is quite particular about the lawns—"
"As he should be, Your Majesty."
"Mother?"
"Our Quidditch pitches, on the other hand, are quite ready for the season—"
"MOTHER!"
"I believe the prince requires your attention, Your Majesty," said Lord de Mimsy-Porpington, who was the marquis of some place or other that James didn't care to remember. What did Lord de Mimsy-Porpington matter? He was as dreary and dull as a funeral, whereas James had very important news. World-altering news, in fact; news that would change the very fabric of their existence forever, yet here was his mother, more concerned with croquet lawns and Quidditch pitches than the tidings borne by her first and only child.
James had interrupted a banquet to bring her this news. A banquet. In the middle of dessert, too. There was a treacle tart sitting untouched on his plate that Peter or some other greedy swine could easily snatch up and eat. Then they'd have to be put in the stockade for stealing and James hated seeing people in the stockade, except for the time he'd trapped Sirius in it. That had been hilarious.
Euphemia looked at James, candlelight reflected in her dark eyes. Her expression was impassive.
"You have news for me, I believe?" she enquired.
James stood up straight to deliver his shocking report. McGonagall always said that a prince who slouched was a prince not worth respecting. "I do."
"Important news?"
"Very important."
"So very important that you felt it incumbent upon you to push out your chair with an unholy screech, race up here like an unfettered horse and interrupt your mother?"
Lord de Mimsy-Porpington hastily disguised his laugh with a cough and James's face burned with embarrassment, but he didn't dare blink. The queen was a stalk-and-ambush predator of the most sophisticated kind, attacking when her prey was weak and unsuspecting. It was no surprise that her Animagus form was that of a sleek panther. James had to appear strong in the face of adversity.
"Yes," he said firmly. "That important."
"Once of our guests has died, then?"
"No."
"Been taken ill?"
"No, but—"
"Then it can't be so important that my son would act in a most un-princely manner," Mother concluded. "Do you not agree, Porpington?"
Lord de Mimsy-Porpington blinked rapidly. Perhaps he was startled to have been called upon for an opinion, when it was common knowledge that he'd never said a single interesting thing in his life. "Well, Your Majesty—"
"I have fallen in love," James loudly announced. "So there."
The queen's sharp black eyebrows shot right up to her hairline.
Victory, James thought.
He had known that this was bound to get his mother's attention. She was always waffling on about how finding a suitable bride was a responsibility of utmost importance for any young prince, and how James needed a good wife to make him behave, for god forbid her clever and talented and ludicrous son (all words McGonagall had used—he didn't know what the last one meant but he'd been meaning to look it up soon) be left to rule unchecked once she and his father were cold in their graves. The way his mother talked, he'd sink the realm's money into Quidditch tournaments, cat sanctuaries and not much else.
It was deeply unfair.
Mostly that he couldn't turn the castle into a cat sanctuary, but also the marriage thing. James had scores of good ideas for the future of the kingdoms, like pig farming, for example. Pigs produced the tastiest meat of all the animals. So versatile. So delicious. But his mother simply didn't care for his thoughts.
Though James had found the woman of his dreams now, so he supposed he could cheerfully bear having a wife.
"When did this happen?" Mother asked him.
"Just now, when I saw her."
"Is that so?"
"Very so."
"And where, pray tell, may I find the object of my sweet son's affections?"
James turned around and pointed further down the table, where a beautiful girl in a pale blue dress was contemplating her dinner, wedged uncomfortably between lords Wolpert and Wood.
As James watched, she speared a carrot on the end of her knife and examined it rather glumly.
"There," he sighed, making sure to sound dreamy and smitten, like the characters in the romance novels his mother kept stashed around the castle. "The girl with the red hair."
Of course, James's beloved was far prettier than any of the ladies in his mother's books. Her skin was as pale and luminescent as a new moon, and her long hair fell in elegant curls about her face. He had known that he was in love from the moment he'd first seen her.
"I see," said Euphemia.
"Decidedly red," muttered Lord de Mimsy-Porpington—who had brought all four of his unmarried daughters to court—his lips pursed in distaste.
"Quite a rare colour in this part of the world," the queen mused, "though quite beautiful, it must be said. Don't you agree, Porpington?"
Lord de Mimsy-Porpington opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "Well, now—"
"I love her," said James.
"B—but the complexion, Your Majesty," said Lord de Mimsy-Porpington, trying again. The queen's sly rebuke had set his cheeks aflame. "A sickly pallor, to be sure—"
"Nonsense," the queen cut over him. "Hair notwithstanding, the girl is bound to be pale, living in that jagged wasteland with all of that ghastly snow. She must see the sun but rarely."
"She's a Ravenclaw?" James questioned, watching in awe as she took a bite from her carrot. The kingdom of Ravenclaw spanned the north of the country and boasted several mountain ranges.
"On her father's side only," Lord de Mimsy-Porpington piped up. His face was still puce. "Her mother was a woman of very little consequence, Your Majesty. A Hufflepuff, if you can imagine, with no real connections to—"
"Her late mother was a lady by birth, and she is the youngest daughter of the 16th Viscount of Rowena," said Euphemia coldly, which caught James's eye at once. She smiled at him—one of the sly, secretive smiles she liked to share with James whenever she saw through a simpering sycophant's ill-advised scheme. The queen was the cleverest woman alive besides McGonagall. There was nothing any lord could tell her about one of her guests that she didn't know already. "And you, darling son, have chosen to fall in love with her?"
James nodded.
"How convenient."
That was music to his ears. "Can I marry her, then?"
"She is quite close to you in age, I suppose," his mother mused. She raised her goblet and studied the girl with narrowed eyes as it was refilled by a footman, her brow furrowed in thought. "She'll have a substantial dowry, of course, I cannot find fault with her lineage, and she hasn't been entered into any other engagement, as far as I can be certain…"
James bobbed up and down on the spot, bubbling with excitement.
"I suppose I don't see why not," the queen concluded. "Her father would certainly be amenable to the match, so I'm sure we could pull it off—"
James punched the air with gusto and let out a whoop of delight, startling many.
"—just as soon as you turn twenty-one."
His fist dropped to his side at once.
He gaped at his mother, but she only smiled back and took a sip of her wine.
Why, but his dreams were ruined!
Ruined! Obliterated! Smashed to bloody smithereens, like the time he and Sirius had stolen into the Potions chamber and burst that sow's bladder.
"What?!" he cried out.
"You know that I dislike repeating myself, James."
"But why?"
"My darling, you're far too young to get married right away—"
"But that's not fair!"
"As is tradition—"
"That's torture!"
"Twenty-one is the age at which a prince of Gryffindor should marry, per tradition, as well you know." The queen set her goblet next to her plate. Her voice was firm. "Or should I ask our esteemed professor to teach you our kingdom's history once more?"
"No!" James yelped, balking at the idea of it. McGonagall was frightening when one of her lessons did not, as she liked to put it, permeate his thick skull the first time around. The way his teacher spoke to him was really quite disgraceful at times. "I know the traditions!"
"Then why are you so incensed, child?"
"Because that's—that's eight years away!" James cried out, the injustice of it all rattling his bones raw. He was not some common lord of somewhere or other, he was a prince—the crown prince, destined to be king one day—yet he could not have whatever he wanted, when he wanted. He was in love, damn it, and when people fell in love they got married. That was the rule. "It's too long to wait!"
"You shall just have to learn to bear it, I'm afraid."
"But what if I die of a broken heart before then?"
"Then you will be dead, so it won't be likely to trouble you."
"But what'll you do for an heir if that happens?"
"Name my ward to the throne, I suppose," said his mother. She brushed James's cheek with her thumb and smiled indulgently, ignoring Lord de Mimsy-Porpington's unconvincing laugh. "Cheer up, sweet one. It won't serve you well to wish your childhood away."
"Why not, when you're the one wishing my happiness away?" James sulkily retorted.
His mother laughed through her nose and patted his face. "Is my son not adorable, Porpington?"
"Indeed," said Lord de Mimsy-Porpington tightly.
"Such a handsome boy," she cooed, then dropped her jewel-encrusted hand into her lap. "Now, off you go. Back to your seat, and we'll talk about it later."
"How much later?"
"Your seat, James."
"But I don't want—"
"There's plenty of time to be wed when you grow up."
"But I am grown up!" James protested. Which he was. His voice had already started to break. "Why can't you—"
"Return to your seat," his mother warned, with a look that said don't you dare test me, "or I shall have McGonagall sent for."
If his mother was willing to threaten him with McGonagall to make him behave, James didn't need to be told twice. He fled, retreating to his empty chair a little further down the table and throwing himself into it with gusto and rage. The honourable Professor Pomona Sprout of the Hufflepuff marshes threw him an odd look when he sat down, so he stuck his tongue out at her and hoped his mother didn't see it.
The redheaded girl did see, however, and threw her eyes down to her plate, suppressing a smile.
Quite at once, James's dearly departed hopes sprung blithely back to life.
A smile!
A smile from his glorious future bride, no less!
Well…only if James could find the patience to wait for another eight years.
Blast his mother, and Lord de Mimsy-Porpington, and the stupid Gryffindor traditions.
He had to take matters into his own hands.
*
When the banquet ended, the royal family and their guests moved to the ballroom for dancing and drinks, both of which James was deemed too young to partake in.
Not that he wanted to partake in all of that bowing and waltzing and kissing of hands.
Usually.
His formal dance lessons were due to begin on his fourteenth birthday and James had been concocting schemes to prolong the inevitable—whilst laughing at Sirius, who was due to start in November—but he was a changed man now. He knew what love was. He had beheld the daughter of the 16th Viscount of Rowena, and the art of masterful dancing now seemed like a vital skill which had been callously denied to him.
"Isn't she pretty?" he asked Sirius, watching her talk to her father on the other side of the ballroom.
Sirius shrugged. He'd snuck his wand into the feast and was trying to level a hex at Professor Slughorn—who had labelled his latest efforts at a Shrinking Solution merely "passable"—without being noticed. Sirius was the royal family's ward and a cousin of some distance—third, perhaps, and something removed—but James's best friend, most importantly, and had a talent for mischief that couldn't be equalled. "I don't know."
"You must know, she's right over there."
"I've got better things to do than stare at some girl."
"You think staring at old Sluggy instead is better?"
"Who said I was staring? Watch this," said Sirius, and turned his back to Slughorn, positioning himself so that the tip of the wand he'd stuck beneath his armpit was pointing directly at their Potions master. The grip end was sticking out the other side, rather like the toy swords they'd used to "stab" one another with as children. "Tell me if anybody gets in the way."
James double-checked the path between them and Slughorn. "You're in the clear."
"Your parents aren't watching?"
"Don't worry about my parents." The ballroom floor was longer than its ceiling was high, and the windows alone were four times the height of James's father. "They're at the other end of the room."
Sirius grinned, and gripped his wand tightly.
"Igniloquitir!" he whispered.
A narrow beam of light shot across the ballroom, casting the marble floor in a pale white glow, and hit Slughorn squarely in the back. He immediately belched out a jet of bright red fire which caught hold of one of the curtains and set the entire thing aflame.
As the orchestra came to a screeching halt, terrified screams began to erupt around him and noblemen scattered in all directions, a horrified Slughorn clapped his hands to his mouth and dropped to his knees.
"You set the drapes on fire," James pointed out, watching the flames savage their way through the fashionable gold brocade with interest.
Sirius glanced over his shoulder. His wand was already tucked into his sleeve. "Whoops."
"Mother loves those curtains. She'll kill you."
"She won't if I tell her you did it."
James glared at Sirius. Behind him, Slughorn had let out another flaming belch and set his trousers on fire. He was rolling around on the floor while Countess Vector of Eaglefield sprayed him with water from her wand. Yet more people were working on the curtains. "You wouldn't dare."
"I would, and she'd believe me."
"No she wouldn't."
"I'm not the one who pitched a fit because she won't let me marry some girl."
"Some girl..." James whirled around and found her in the crowd almost at once. She was standing alone—her father had rushed to assist with the drapes—and trying to suppress a laugh as she watched Slughorn thrash about.
"Attention!" cried the queen, who had appeared before the now-smoking curtains, hands lifted into the air to signal to the crowd. The cuffs of her gown sleeves were so wide that the purple velvet trailed below her waist. "Attention, everyone!"
Now was his chance. His moment. His one window of opportunity.
"See you," he muttered to Sirius.
As his mother began to assure her guests that everything was under control, James darted across the room, weaving between stationary pairs of dancers, and found himself standing directly before the girl of his dreams.
She blinked at him in surprise, but said nothing. Perhaps his sudden appearance had alarmed her, or perhaps James was so handsome that she was overwhelmed by love. That was the more likely scenario.
"Hello," he said, drawing himself up to his fullest height.
"Hello," she replied, and immediately coloured, her cheeks glowing almost as red as her hair. "I mean, good evening"—she sank into a neat curtsy—"Your Royal Highness."
"Oh, you shan't have to curtsy to me," he told her grandly.
"I shan't?"
"Not ever."
A little crease wrinkled in her forehead. "Why not?"
"Because," he said, and put on his most charming smile, "you're going to be my wife."
She immediately burst into tears.
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
starry starry september night
once upon a starry september night, me and my best friend, kamelle, met up in the metro after a year of not seeing each other. she has joined her parents in new york city after college graduation and presently works there as a paralegal. life has been kind to her, as you see, and i am happy to witness it like a coming-of-age movie. she has been my best friend since 2004 so we basically grew up together. it all started when we both wore unplanned matchy hello kitty sneakers during pe class and took pride on them because they were limited edition. the rest was history as people say but let me share to you some of our highlights.
one scorching hot day, we had our fieldtrip at a local but popular farm in our hometown. we rode horses and had their signature ice cream called garin farm ice cream that everyone raved about — from the kids my age back then, teenagers, to adults. it was truly heavenly. the early 2000’s really had one of the best memories that we all still keep up to this day. one of those was the happy times that i indulged myself in that ice cream and i would gladly love a serving again when i fly back home. funny how i almost forgot about that childhood delight. it felt very long ago. i am not sure if they still sell it there up to now but i hope that they do. after minutes of horseback riding and running around in the green fields under the golden sun, i was drenched in sweat wearing my beige pe tee shirt and denim jeans that folded at the tip. on my feet were my then-favorite white hello kitty sneakers that me and kamelle both had. lunch time came and we spent it at a shrubby garden in the middle of the farm. across my table, i saw my classmate devouring her fried chicken like there’s no tomorrow with her bare pudgy hand. three of her fingers were dipped in ketchup and she sucked them straight to her mouth. this girl really had an appetite, i thought. the blazing heat did not even bother her a bit. all thanks to her yaya who was devotedly fanning her with an abaniko and wiping every single sweat that broke on her forehead with a white washcloth. this kid is having the time of her life and i shall, too. just wait and see until i unpack my homemade lunch. but upon opening my lunch box, my attention suddenly diverted to a crying kamelle near our table because she could not find her lola. poor unfortunate soul. so me and my mother helped her find her way back to her grandmother. and when they finally crossed paths, she tamed and there were no more tears left to shed from her chinita eyes. those eyes that always twinkle and disappear each time she laughs way too hard.
years passed and during high school, we stayed at her place post-prom and some ordinary nights and days, too. my parents didn’t mind because it’s always a yes when i’m with a trusted friend. didn’t i tell you that she gives the best presents, too? always brand new, shining, shimmering, and splendid — but always with well-thought details and messages. she never forgets my birthday and sends her greeting at midnight. not that it’s not okay if her greeting did not come at midnight, but she’s just sharp at important events like that. that’s how friendship with her looks like. you never feel forgotten. then college came and I studied in the capital city. we physically did part but the friendship never ever did. time can really be one’s greatest friend or enemy because many things could turn sweet or sour in the passing of days. so i thank god that i was able to keep a friendship alive despite the phases that i went through and still have to. when i come home for a term break, kamelle was always there to welcome me back. and i remember one late october afternoon in 2016, few weeks after my graduation, she surprised me by randomly appearing at our front door and drove me to a coffee shop that served vietnamese coffee. how i love spontaneous people and their thoughtful ways! i sure have many acquaintances but i can count in the fingers of my two hands the best of friends that i keep and am grateful for and this chinita beauty with porcelain skin is definitely one of those.
going back to that eve of september 21st 2018, i finished work earlier than usual. me and kamelle had dinner with my sister and she also introduced to us her boyfriend. we all then shared a hearty meal at sentro 1771 in uptown mall, bgc. if i remember correctly, we had garlicky adobo, sinigang na bangus sa miso, and calamari as viands to our garlic rice. sumptuous. then it started raining — hard and heavy. oopsy daisy. but not even the rain can stop our fun. so we tiptoed our way out in the sidelines of the restaurant after our meal and decided to have coffee at tim horton’s. i had my usual hot coffee mocha. never mind that it’s almost 10pm, i wanted my caffeine. that mindset later on changed but that’s for another story to tell. then while waiting for my most-awaited drink, i went to the loo and took some mirror selfies. i felt cute in my tube top so why not amass several shots of it? one of those photos is what i posted above. cute enough. but then i realized i was out and about that night to catch up with my best friend and not take photos of myself. so i headed outside of the loo, went back to our table, and enjoyed my coffee that warmed my insides in the chilly weather. but you know what’s warmer? our heart-to-heart conversations and high-pitched giggles as if no day separated us just like in grade school. that kind of warm went not only in the insides but straight to the heart and then slowly seeped to the soul. oh, the joy of growing up with this human... and it all started from just having matchy hello kitty sneakers when we were but eight! now we are working ladies hustling in life from different sides of the world —me in the capital of the pearl of the orient seas while she’s in the city that never sleeps. it’s been sixteen wonderful and beautiful years of friendship and i only pray for a lifetime more of it to come.
after our coffee break, we headed to i-darts dash, a sports bar located a few blocks away. we had few drinks while watching people throw darts at the dartboard. scary, i thought. but whatever, at least i am in good company. i don’t like alcohol but i don’t like a hangover more so i limited my intake and it was enough to call it a night. the heavy rain had already stopped and there was no trace of it as we parted ways. the busy streets of bonifacio global city was now quiet and lit from the moon and stars that shone above. it was a little past midnight by then and the world seemed as calm as a newborn baby sleeping soundly with sweet dreams.
truth be told, our coffee break at tim horton’s was already enough for our catch up. i have always enjoyed being inside a coffee shop and immersing in conversations that come from the heart with my favorite people. pair it with a warm cup of my favorite coffee and everything is as perfect as it can get. that’s how the night of september 21st 2018 unfolded. the heavy rain didn’t stop us from catching up and we were later on rewarded with a starry night. it can’t just rain forever, right? and it’s always found true. the universe indeed rewards persistent human beings on this earth. all’s well that ends well.
0 notes
Text
Nobody's Perfect!
Prompt: Waking up after staying over at their house for the first time (after the fist fight with the mob), and trying to sneak out to avoid embarrassment. You end up getting caught and interacting with them. 1000% fluff
Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad
TW: Spicy language, moderately bad French, reference to bruising due to fighting, ADORABLE FLUFF AND BAD MEMES
A/N: you don’t have to read the previous fic for this to make sense, but here it is if you’re into that: https://hamilkilo.tumblr.com/post/159215378999/brawl-in-the-streets Anyways, thank you for reading, as always. Thank you for all the support and kindness y'all have shown me on my previous posts! I love you! Also, If you want me to tag anything, let me know! I want you to feel safe when reading my work! Please enjoy!
Word Count: 2792
The morning after you fist fought the protestors, you woke up in a ton of pain. Everything hurt. In retrospect, you wished you had eaten four or five dozen eggs as a child so that you could’ve been as large as Gaston, but you didn’t. You barely even knew how to fight. Your face showed that. You groaned as you sat up, feeling your pulse in your face. You knew it was going to be a swollen mess. Your mouth felt full of cotton, and your head was pounding. You looked over at the nightstand to see that the digital clock read 5:14. You groaned again. You were awake with pain, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. You figured it was for the best. This way, you could sneak out like it was a one night stand, only a lot worse. You got up, wincing and cursing the entire way, and limped your way over to your clothes, wallet, and phone on the love seat. They really did have a nice guest room. Come to think of it though, you don’t remember their house being all that big. Did they each have their own rooms, or did they share rooms and have bunk beds? You guessed it didn’t matter. You quickly, well, as quickly as one in your condition could, changed and crept to the door. The room was fairly dark, but due to the open blinds, the moonlight spilled on the floor. You pulled the door open slowly, and thanked the universe for the fact that it did not squeak on its hinges. You tiptoed and groped your way down the dark hallway, then frowned when you saw dim light coming from the living room. You moved slowly, trying not to give yourself away to whatever, or whoever, was in there. You slowly peaked around the corner and saw Alex sitting on the couch, typing away on his laptop. There was a small burrito of John curled up against him and out like a light. A kid’s show played on the TV in the background. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d be able to make it to the door without being detected. The couch was forward far enough that you’d be able to go behind it to reach the exit. You began to ninja your way towards the door, crawling on your hands and knees behind the couch when a floorboard creaked, and the typing stopped. “Laf?” Alex’s voice was soft and raspy from how tired he was. You were frozen in your position, holding your breath. After a moment of silence, he returned to typing, and you let out a sigh of relief. You began to move again, your muscles tight and sore. You bit your lip to hold back the pain, desperate to get out of this awkward situation. “Hey, Alex?” You heard a groggy voice from the couch. Shit. John must’ve woken up. You really picked a shitty time for your escape. “Dearest?” If you weren’t in so much pain, you would’ve cooed out loud at how adorable they were. “It’s late; we should go to bed,” John mumbled before he yawned, and without warning, he began to stretch, and he managed to bap you in the face. You cried out in surprise and pain, causing both of the boys to leap off the couch. “Y/N?!” Alex was incredulous. He couldn’t fathom why you’d be behind the couch. “Mornin’,” you greeted them both sheepishly. So much for a stealth escape. “What are you doing up?” John asked as he came around the couch to stand in front of you. He squatted down beside you and gently grabbed your chin. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Jeez, I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!” You blushed and picked yourself up, stumbling in the process. John steadied you and held onto your arm. “No, no. I’m fine. I was… uh… just going for my morning stroll!” He frowned at you, “Do I look like an idiot?” You bit your lip to keep from giving him a sassy response, and instead, you shook your head. “I was actually going to go home. I’ve caused y'all enough trouble lately-” “Nonsense!” Alex interrupted you. He had joined the two of you behind the couch and grabbed your hand in his. These two were turning out to be very touch oriented. “You threw rocks at bigots! That’s iconic! And, now you’ve been in a fight! You’re bad ass, Y/N!” “Alex, shhh,” John shushed him since he was getting excited. He didn’t want to wake the others. “Right,” Alex gave you an apologetic grin, “Anyways. Do you want some coffee?” You shook your head in bewilderment. “It’s like five thirty in the morning on a Saturday…” “Exactly!” He looked at you like you’d just stated that the sky was blue. “I do my best work when I stay up all night.” “That’s arguable,” John grumbled, and you giggled. “Your typo count goes up when you don’t sleep. Your writing starts to sound paranoid and-” “Everyone’s a critic!” He scoffed, and John rolled his eyes. “Come on, you go to bed, and I’ll get Y/N some coffee,” John offered, and Alex scoffed this time. “Do you even know me?” He demanded, throwing his hands on his hips. This was like the opera, only better. So much drama. And for free! “Alexander, don’t you sass me!” John scolded him. Then he leaned forward and put his lips by his ear. In a voice you could barely hear, he growled lowly, “If you go to bed right now, I’ll do that thing you like later tonight.” Alex’s eyes got wide, and he blushed deeply. You bit your lip to keep from squealing. Why didn’t you have a guy like that? “Good night, John! Good night, Y/N! See you in the morning!” He rushed out, and he leaned over and pecked John on the lips, before he tensed like he caught himself in a mistake. Then, he turned to you and quickly pecked your lips, too. You didn’t move, you were too stunned. He quickly went off down the hallway, and you heard a door shut. “Well,” John cleared his throat, ducking to hide his slight blush. “Let’s get you some breakfast, shall we?” You held up your hands, “It’s fine, really-” “No, I insist! It’s the least we can do. Come on!” He sounded almost offended, and you relented. You followed him into the kitchen where he opened the cabinets. “What are we feeling today? Cereal? Waffles? Pancakes? Eggs? Tequila?” John gave you a sly smirk on the last one, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Cereal is fine.” “Awesome. This one’s actually my favorite!” He pulled down a box of Lucky Charms and put it on the counter. He brought down two bowls for you, then he got the milk. He poured you some cereal, and you grinned. “For some reason,” you began, “I feel like that Jefferson guy would be the kind to pour his milk first, then the cereal.” John paused in pouring the milk, and you cringed. Why did you even speak? You probably offended him. Way to go. Then, he dropped the carton on the counter, milk sloshing out, and he began to absolutely cackle like he was losing his mind. You watched him in mild alarm as he gripped the edge to keep himself from falling over. Then, you found yourself laughing with him. You were being loud, you knew that, but his laugh was just so contagious. “John! What’s going on? Are you okay?” Hercules came running into the kitchen, baseball bat in one hand (a/n low key considered putting “dildo in the other” but refrained, yw), teddy bear in the other. He let the bat drop down to his side when he saw the both of you rearing like hyenas. “Y-y-y/N,” John stuttered between fits of laughter and gasps for breath, “Tell Herc what you told me!” Herc looked at you in anticipation, and butterflies filled your stomach. You managed to stifle a nervous giggle, “Jefferson’s the guy that pours his milk before the cereal-” “POURS HIS MILK BEFORE THE CEREAL! AHAHA!” John lost it again, and you followed suit. Herc just looked between the town of you in fear, then he chuckled to himself. “You two are something else,” he said as he propped the bat against the counter. “John,” you wheezed, hunched over the counter in another peel of laughter, “the cereal’s going to get soggy-” “Just like JEFFERSON!” He hollered out, erupting at the end of the phrase again, and this time, Herc’s booming laugh followed. “He probably indulges in soggy cereal!” Herc added, laughing with John and you. “Qu'est-ce c'est?” You turned around to see Lafayette slowly approaching the kitchen, his hair up in pig tails as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Um, comment est-ce tu dit… Jefferson aime le soggy cereal?” You managed to form half of a sentence in botched French, which, unknowingly to you, made it unbearably hilarious to Lafayette. “Mon Dieu! Merde! C'est marrant!” And soon, the four of you were laughing your asses off in the kitchen, the cereal long forgotten. By some work of God, you’d managed to not wake up Alex. That kid could sleep like the dead. After what seemed like forever, you had managed to calm down, and John dumped the soggy cereal in the sink. “So, eggs?” He offered, and you smiled at him. “Do you have hot sauce?” You questioned, and Hercules laughed before high fiving you. “Bad ass!” He exclaimed, and you giggled again. For some reason, these boys just put you in such a good mood. You couldn’t believe that you’d tried to sneak out. “Uh, tu aimes les omelettes?” Lafayette asked. You thought it was cute how French he was in the mornings. “Don’t mind him,” Herc cut in, “He tends to slip back into French more when he’s tired. Besides, it’s hot as hell!” You laughed, then turned to Lafayette. “Oui, je préfère les omelettes, mais j'aime les œufs. Et toi?” You knew it was sloppy and horribly mispronounced. It had been a while since your French class. “Oui! Moi aussi! Tu es très adorable, mon ami!” He pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly, causing you to groan out in pain. He let you go quickly, muttering apologies in French. “Sorry,” you admitted, “I’m not very good at French!” “Non! C'est stupide! Ce n'est pas mal!” He ruffled your hair in response. “Oui, oui, hon, hon, baguette, Eiffel Tower!” John exclaimed as he slid a plate with a cheese omelette to you. Hercules laughed and kissed John on the cheek before sliding the hot sauce to you. You couldn’t decide if they were all in a relationship together or if they were just really tight bros. Once again, you scolded yourself for sticking your nose into other people’s relationships. You poured hot sauce on your omelette and ate it quickly, finding yourself ravenous. Lafayette rambled on about God only knows what in French, much too fast for you to comprehend any of it. You picked up on a few words, but none of them made sense in combination. You just smiled and nodded in between bites of eggs. Once you had finished, the sun was starting to rise outside. “Thank you for the breakfast, but I’m afraid I really should be going.” You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or take advantage of their hospitality, and you felt guilty for getting them all up so early. “Hold on! Let me put on some shoes, and I’ll drive you to your car!” John offered, but Hercules stopped him. “Nonsense, John. You didn’t go to bed last night. Go get some sleep, I’ll drive her,” He put his hand on John’s back and gently nudged him down the hall. How did Herc know that John hadn’t gone to bed? Whatever. John didn’t argue with Herc. Instead, he grabbed Lafayette by the wrist, Herc’s bear with his other hand, and walked off. Maybe they were room mates or something. “Come on, Y/N,” Herc said as he took your hand and grabbed his keys from the counter. He was wearing loose, blue pajama bottoms and a navy shirt that said “Salty.” He led you out the door and opened the passenger door to the SUV. After you’d climbed in, he shut the door and started the car. He handed you the aux chord, and you froze. Oh no. You didn’t need this kind of pressure. He put his arm on your seat before he turned and looked out the back window, backing down the driveway. “What do you want me to play?” You asked timidly, searching his face, almost like you were hoping his favorite band would just be scrawled across his forehead. “Um, I don’t care. Surprise me! Whatever you like!” He glanced over at you with a laid back smile, and you gave him a weak one. You scrolled through your low-charged phone, then threw all caution to the wind. If you embarrassed yourself, you never had to see these people again. “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days, one two three four!” Hannah Montana shouted over the radio, and you began to cackle. You had to do it. You just had to. Do it for the meme. You looked over, expecting to see Herc giving you a look, but instead, he was grinning from ear to ear. He sang along to the next lyrics, “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days, everybody knows what-what I’m talking about, everybody gets that way!” You screamed in awe, causing him to look over at you with a dazzling smile. “Betcha didn’t expect that, did ya, darlin’?” He drawled, and you shook your head. “Okay, Mr. Big Shot, how about this one?” You switched the song to a different one, smiling down at your phone. The intro played, then when the lyrics started, Herc, to your utter disbelief, nailed it. “Make it count, play it straight, don’t look back, don’t hesitate, when you go big time!” You shrieked again, utterly delighted. You couldn’t believe it. “What? I’m cultured in my memes, Y/N,” he teased you, and you grinned. “I’m bringing the big guns,” you told him with a smirk, and he mirrored it. “Do it!” You were ashamed that you had this saved on your phone, but it didn’t matter in that moment. The disco track started playing, and Herc cried out, the emotion unfathomable. “We’re no strangers to love,” you both wailed, cackling and carrying on. Embarrassingly, you were both able to sing the entire song. On the final loop of the chorus, Herc pulled up beside your car and parked. He turned the radio down and gave you a small smile. “So this is it, Y/N,” he sounded almost disappointed. “Thanks again for taking on the mob.” You cringed at the memory, “I’m sorry for dragging y'all into that-” “Don’t be! No worries! Besides, if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten Rick Roll’d this morning!” You laughed again, undoing your seatbelt. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t die in my sleep and for the ride to my car.” “No problem! Hey, if you want, give me your number; I’m sure the guys would love to grab coffee with you!” You smiled bashfully, amazed any of them would want to keep in contact with you, especially Herc, after you made the entire car ride a meme. You really were meme trash. “You sure?” You mumbled, cheeks red. “Yeah! You’re fun to be around! I’ve never seen John laugh that hard about anything in my life!” You bit your lip and nodded. He gave you a grin before he unlocked his phone and handed it to you. You filled out the contact, putting hearts around your name. You loved yourself that much. Then, you passed his phone back. “Hey, let us know if you need anything, ‘Kay? Like, even if it’s stupid, like you’re bored one night, and you want some drinking buddies. Let us know, and we’ll be there!” You glanced up at him to see him giving you a soft smile that caused your stomach to churn. You opened the door and got out, giving him a soft ���okay”. “Bye, Herc,” you called over your shoulder. “Bye, darlin’!” He called as you shut the door. He waited until you started your car before he left, wanting to make sure you would be able to get home. You plugged in your phone and played Taylor Swift’s “Enchanted” the entire way home. You smiled all day long.
#hercules mulligan#alexander hamilton#hamilsquad#hamiltrash#hamilton#polyhamilsquad#polyamory#please#sons of liberty#lafayette#marquis de lafayette#laurens#john laurens#fanfiction#fanfic#fluff#cute#writing#my work#bad memes
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
Past Lifestyles - Wanting to Understand Who I was in My Past-Life
New Post has been published on https://beingmad.org/past-lifestyles-wanting-to-understand-who-i-was-in-my-past-life/
Past Lifestyles - Wanting to Understand Who I was in My Past-Life
Before we tread into the area of Past Existence… We need to understand the prevailing and the destiny cautiously. Before indulging in our Beyond we started also need to Recognise the motive of Life journey as an entire.Starting from the start… inside the chronological order as the evolution occurred… we shall discover that we started the adventure as an Amoeba (single cell formation)… This the primary manifestation which happened within the Existence of each Human being.occurred… we shall discwe started the adventure as an Amoeba (single cell formation)… This become the primary manifestation which happened within the Existence of each Human being.become
Journeying further into the Beyond Existence we discover the evolutionary dispositions existing inside every living being brought on this unmarried mobile formation to multiply into cell formation and finally multi-mobile organisms. (Some of these shape the middle of past life of every Man or women).
Withp a ssage of time… The multi-mobile organism evolved into an insect, then into flowers, an animal and in the end as a Man or women. It takes an average of approximately 7.3 million manifestations Earlier than each journey culminates into the extent of a Individual. An extended adventure of approximately eighty earthly million years!
That is by using no standard a small adventure by using our Soul (Atman) present inside every dwelling being. Here at the same time as speak of Past Life we also want to understand that the journey is being undertaken by means of the Soul within every living being and our frame… The show up from is however the outer masking for each Soul (Atman) that is necessitated for our Soul (Atman) cannot take away the dross from within on its very own. It calls for a frame for this motive.
Our Soul (Atman) never wants to look again into the Beyond … Then why is it in order that the manifest body… The shape of a Man or women strongly desires to appearance back into the past life. Understanding very well that it is not feasible to retrace our steps and walk into our Beyond past Lifestyles… nevertheless the desire within most humans to appearance lower back into the Past Lifestyles is very strong.
Why is it so… Why do we now not get out of the clutches of the remembrances of our Past Existence (if any) forever? Is it via any approach possible to look back into the Past Life… No, it isn’t always by the means of an average Human being to look back into the Past Life however a few astrologers and people with Tantric powers can look lower back into our Past list of lifestyles. however to what avail!
Looking to appearance lower back into the Past Life includes no that means… What we have been in our Beyond Existence, what is our dating with our Past Lifestyles, maybe after Knowing some incidents of the Past Life we can be capable of exchange our future Existence… Is the wish of many, why?
Why can we fail to understand that the sort of phenomenon of reflecting lower back into the Beyond Life isn’t always approved through God the Almighty? Had it been so… each Individual, as an alternative each living being might have remembered all of the activities of the Past lives… however the reality is simply destructive? We do no longer carry even faint reminiscences of our Beyond-Lifestyles the instant we step into the prevailing Lifestyles.
Recollect for a moment that in case you come to Recognize that the nice buddy of yours on this Existence changed into the purpose of your loss of life inside the immediately Beyond Life… might you be able to deliver the same courting as you are doing it now? perhaps… never!
additionally in case you come to Recognize that you have been born into the residence of your gift dad and mom to avenge your death in considered one of your Beyond lives… Then what might be your destiny on this Lifestyles? could you still deliver the equal admire for your mother and father… Or perhaps you move a step similarly and end up the cause of demise of your parents in this Lifestyles!
The full crux of the Beyond Life is relegated with the aid of the energy of karma. It is karma and karma alone which plays a completely crucial function from one manifestation to some other. The whole residual stability of our acts and omissions in a particular list of lifestyles is carried forward to the subsequent Life simplest through the procedure of karma. As we perform so lets get… not anything extra or less!
Whatever was the result of our earlier manifestation led us to the subsequent manifestation. If the balance of karma led to our being born within the residence of a cobbler… Then, in no way it become possible that we might have been born inside the residence of a king. Yet, if we desire so within the gift list of lifestyles then we need to perform the karma thus within the present Life and handiest if the balance of karma in the gift Lifestyles at the fag end of Life permits our being born inside the residence of a king inside the subsequent manifestation… It shall be so and none can change our future!
On the opposite… If the Karma (the moves carried out by using us in totality) completed via us inside the gift list of lifestyles needs our being born within the house of a farmer in the next Existence than it shall keep top… Come Something may! None can alternate the destiny of any being besides the being himself. Even God the Almighty who constantly acts as on onlooker (Dhrishta as we name it in Hinduism) by no means interferes within the running of his.
The stability of karma from one Existence to some other receives handed on to the subsequent list of lifestyles through the complicated process of chromosomes which get activated throughout the union of the dad and mom. The child for that reason born includes the balance karma of all of the preceding lives one has lived. It is sincerely just like the stability of money owed in a balance sheet which get carried forward from one year to every other.
If we’re speaking of the yr 2004 then we’re simplest concerned with the final stability of the year 2003 for the remaining balance of the year 2002 was already included within the balance sheet of the 12 months 2003.
We additionally have to take into account that the prevailing segment of Life is part of The entire adventure of 8.four million manifestations that may occur within the list of lifestyles of a Soul (Atman as in Hinduism). It’s miles at the crease of the adventure that the Soul liberates forever from the cycle of birth and loss of life… And finally the Individual is said to advantage Salvation (Moksha in Hinduism).
the journey for the Soul from the primary manifestation as an amoeba to the last manifestation as a Mahavira, Gautama Buddha, Jesus Christ or prophet Mohammed… Is spread over a maximum of eight.4 million manifestations. It’s miles in simple terms established upon each Individual when one desires to curtail the journey and attain the state of Salvation (Moksha).
We additionally want to understand that contrary to the standard practices in account books… some occasions of the Past lives are not able to fructify in that unique manifestation or the following. It is viable that the karma enacted upon in a particular manifestation can also fructify 4 manifestations later and That is the purpose of all pain current on Mom Earth. Why so?
whilst contemplating as regards to Past Existence… We want to take into account that At the non-secular aircraft… Something section of Existence we’re passing through is not dependent upon the balance of karma of the earlier lives and the karma accomplished by us within the present list of lifestyles on my own. It’s also possible that a sure karma finished via us in certainly one of our previous lives might also all of a unexpected fructify and spoil the sport (referred to as Prarabdha karma in Hinduism). The vice versa may additionally show up.
Explaining the idea of Beyond Lifestyles further… We need to remember that we sometimes find that many those who retain to flout the set styles of the society by way of carrying out a horde of sins But hold to experience privileges which should no longer be available to them. Explaining this similarly… one of these phenomenon is handiest feasible for those people have in their keep… A big asset of pious deeds carried out in Beyond-Existence.
It is best while the collected balance of the pious deeds gets nullified in the gift Life shall those human beings face the wrath of the society. by no means Before! To the opposite we additionally discover desirable humans sporting out pious deeds within the present Existence and But continue to go through. It is most effective because they have got a great bad stability of karma from the Beyond Existence in their hold and unless this terrible balance (from the Beyond Existence) is nullified through the pious deeds of the prevailing Life… Such people can never revel in happiness.
Trying to understand the complicated manner of the Beyond Existence is not difficult, Yet Seeking to get again into the Beyond Life consists of no meaning for if we’re suffering inside the gift Life… We want to perform pious deeds and accumulate Punya Karma (positive balance of karma) in the gift Life without heading to the Past Lifestyles in any way. There’s no other way to pop out of the negative Past-Existence.
Life has been made similar to that by way of God the Almighty. None can mission his authority. Why brood during the last Life and wreck the prevailing Life. If we’re to get out of the ills confronted by us in the gift Existence and which resulted because of the Past Existence… The best way out is in no way contemplating the past life and concentrating On the affairs of the existing Lifestyles in order to accumulate an increasing number of-of Punya Karma (tremendous karma) in our favor
0 notes