#anthony ramos scenarios | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

put a ring on it 05 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 05

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9.5k

warnings: another stupid cliffhanger, death mentions?, not much tbh

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine - lmk if u wanna b added

"Patsy, you've gotta help me. I'm freaking out."

You were slumped on the floor of the Hamiltons' bathroom by then, praying that no one would come and knock, ask to use it. To your relief, when you called, Patsy picked up the phone without hesitation - she'd been on alert, waiting for your SOS all weekend. However, the emergency call you were making didn't quite match the one she was expecting.

"Oh, god; what'd he do?" your roommate groaned from the other end of the line. "Am I gonna need to kick his ass the minute you two get back to town?"

"Shockingly, no," you mumbled, letting out a soft huff as your absent gaze fell to the green wall before you. "I... have a much different problem."

"What, did you fuck one of his cousins? Did the woman who offered to be your sugar mama a while back end up being his aunt?" Despite your state of panic, her words made you smile as you rolled your eyes. "Wait, holy shit, did you fuck him?"

You grimaced at her final question. While it didn't hit the mark, it was far too close to it for your comfort. "No, I absolutely did not."

"So what's the issue, then?"

"I... oh, god, you're definitely gonna make fun of me for this," you sighed, and Patsy didn't respond, instead waiting for you to continue. When you did, your voice was small, shaky. "I think I like him, Patsy. I really think I like him."

There was a skip.

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of a prank?"

"Patsy," you groaned, your head falling back against the bathroom wall, and she was quick to backtrack.

"No, no, I'm happy for you; don't get me wrong," she said quickly, pausing before she added, "I'm just surprised. What happened?"

"I don't even know. I just... he's really not the person I thought he was. So much of what I thought I knew about him was off base," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How was I supposed to know he was secretly all caring and thoughtful? And he's so good with kids; god, it's adorable. Too much has changed this weekend; my head is spinning. I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, keep in mind that there's a reason he asked you to come home with him," she said matter-of-factly, and you furrowed your brow.

"What d'you mean?"

"Y/N," she sighed, "You two weren't friends. There was no world in which you would've agreed to be his cover story, but he still told his family he was dating you. You really don't think that was a little bit intentional?"

You scoffed. "Are you implying that he was projecting?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Patsy, it wasn't pointed; it was just convenient," you argued, pulling your knees into your chest, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear. "I'm his coworker. There are pictures of me and him together at work. I live far enough from the Hamiltons that it was easy to excuse the fact that I'd never met them."

"You're not his only coworker," Patsy replied, and you rolled your eyes at how certain she sounded.

"So who's to say I wasn't chosen at random?"

"Me. You spent years openly resenting him. You would've been the least convenient person in your office for him to pick," she pointed out, and you pursed your lips, playing absentmindedly with the edge of the shag carpet on the bathroom floor.

"I'm also the least insufferable," you replied. "Not to be anti-woman, or anything, but I don't have a single female coworker who I could spend a weekend with without going insane."

"Okay, so you can agree that he doesn't find you insufferable."

"That's a low, low bar."

"But don't you find it even a little bit weird?" You bit your lip at her words, and your brow was furrowed but your gaze empty. "Why would he need a fake girlfriend to begin with?"

That, however, made you wince. Even just hours before, you may not have known how to answer, but- "Actually, I have a hunch about that."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately." You resented the sound of your own voice shaking as you remembered the scene you'd just fled, and apparently, any respite the phone call provided from the sinking feeling in your stomach was long gone. "His ex is here. She's crazy pretty, and she's totally sweet, and she's obviously still into him. She's even my dream girl. I think he asked me here to make her jealous."

There was a pause on her end of the line; all you received was static as she let out a sigh. "See, I don't buy that."

"Why not? It'd make perfect sense," you said irately. "He seemed to really want me to meet her, and, God, you shoud've seen how excited he looked to see her."

"If she's a family friend, you shouldn't be surprised that they're still on good terms. Haven't you ever stayed friends with any of your exes?"

"Not like that." You swallowed hard; Patsy couldn't see it, but your eyes were sullen, downcast as you recalled the interaction. Jesus, you'd been so stupid to get attached to him; it hadn't even been three days. You really, really should've seen something like this coming. You'd long known Philip to be self-interested, why should this be any different?

But he'd had no one to perform for when he'd spent the whole afternoon with you coddling his niece and nephew. He couldn't prove anything to anyone by the fact that you'd woken up in his arms two mornings in a row. He had nowhere to invoke how protective he'd been as his family dragged you this way and that, interrogating you all the while.

You realized you'd let your call go silent for several moments too long. "I dunno. It's just too complicated. I don't know what to think of any of it."

When she sighed, you recoiled at the loud rush of static that came from your phone. "I know you're not gonna like hearing this, but you need to talk to him."

"How the hell am I supposed to talk to him about this?"

"Be upfront. I'm serious, Y/N; your reservations about what you're feeling are all just you self-sabotaging, and you well know it." Though she wasn't wrong, her words left you on edge - if you were upfront with him, you hadn't a single clue how he'd react. "I know you haven't let yourself fall for anyone since John, but-"

"Please don't bring him into this," you said, the words weary. Patsy had known you for years; she could hear the grief building in the back of your throat before you could swallow it. She paused before speaking, and when she did, her voice was much softer.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to, but..." You braced yourself for her to continue, your jaw tight. "It's the truth. It's been years. Don't you think it's time for you to stop holding yourself back from living?"

Your sigh was heavy; you would've even chalked it up as being born somewhat of your dramatics if not for the despair you couldn't stop from building in your voice when you responded. "Maybe it is. But I'm not ready to get hurt." The words were almost a whisper, as tearful as any cry. "I... I didn't even like Philip until two days ago; who's to say this won't just pass in another two?"

"I can't make that call for you, love," she replied, tone sympathetic. "But, please, don't self-sabotage out of fear. You deserve so much better than that."

"But I am afraid," you said, and you drew in a shaky breath. "How could I not be?"

"You've been working past all your fears for years, now. Years. It's time to stop being afraid."

"I..." you started, but you trailed off, knowing that putting up a fight wouldn't get you anywhere from there. "Thanks, Patsy. I think that, for now, I just need to clear my head. I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Love you, Y/N."

At that, you gave a watery smile. "Love you, too."

You didn't move from your spot on the floor until the incessant drone of the dial tone into your ear became unbearable.

It was only minutes later that, after you'd exited the bathroom, flushed the toilet and washed your hands for good measure despite not having used it, ran almost directly back into Philip. He was in the dining room, chatting with Maria when you found him - or, really, when he found you.

You were hesitant to approach the pair, but when Philip noticed you, you could see him cut himself off mid-sentence, muttering something more to her before he made his way across the room to you.

"Hey, Hamilton." You offered him a weak smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when are we back to 'Hamilton,' hm?"

"Sorry. Just what I'm used to," you mumbled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still?"

You shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Alright, princess." He shook his head lightly, amusement written into his smile. "Where have you been? When I came in to find you, you weren't around."

Again, you shrugged. You were on edge, suddenly seeming to be at a complete loss for words. "I just ran to the bathroom. I'm back now," you said lamely, and he grinned.

"I can see that. You wanna come with me to get something to eat?"

You took a deep breath, trying your best to settle your fresh batch of nerves, and you nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." He tipped his head toward the kitchen, and when you started in his direction, he reached over, looped an arm around your waist as he began to walk with you, but the sudden contact made your skin jump. You tensed in his hold, and he glanced over to you with a furrowed brow, concern written deep in his expression. "You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He didn't seem convinced, though, as he looked her over once more. "Can we talk later? In private?"

You could feel your heart rate begin to pick up with the hesitance in his voice; your mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. You managed a tight smile and nodded; his expression didn't change. "So, dinner?"

-------

The next hour was tense. You couldn't avoid Philip's skeptical, sidelong glances; you couldn't avoid how you shrunk away every time he came just inches too close for comfort.

The past few days had become comfortable, a difference you couldn't help but find pleasant, but it was a change so gradual you almost hadn't noticed — that is, until it came rushing toward you all at once. You were constantly on edge, and his concern only seemed to grow. You tried to relax, but your nerves wouldn't let you, not as you questioned every fleeting touch, every lopsided smile.

Within an hour, nearly all of the family had been herded back outside, something you didn't mind in the least — the overcrowded lawn gave you an easy excuse to ignore Philip, focusing your energy on his little cousins and siblings. (You and Eliza Jr. had established quite the rapport; she'd provided the imaginary tea and cookies and was now filling you in on all the real tea in her brunch circle, including the failed marriage between her Barbie and her stuffed crocodile. It'd been toxic for both of them, or so you were told.)

As hard as you tried to forget the unfortunate epiphany that afternoon had brought you to, it remained perpetually at the surface of your mind, coloring every one of your interactions with Philip. His concern appeared to be unavoidable, too.

"Hey, princess."

You jumped at the feeling of Philip's hand coming to rest on your shoulder, tearing you from your scintillating conversation with your new four-year-old (tea) drinking buddy. You glanced back at him with wide eyes, a hand on your chest as though to still the rapid thumping of your heart, and he stood there with an eyebrow raised.

"Jesus. You can't just scare me like that," you said, seemingly winded, and he only laughed.

"My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He swung a folding chair out from the table behind you, turning it so he could sit beside you, facing his little sister with a grin. "So, what have you and Y/N been talking about? Have you been spilling all the family secrets while I wasn't around to hear?"

She let out a huff, seemingly put-off by his appearing. "No, we've been talking about my drama."

You couldn't help but grin when she folded her arms, wearing a stubborn frown, and Philip turned to you with a brow raised. "And what drama might that be?"

"I've been persuaded to act as a divorce lawyer for a crocodile and a Barbie."

"Oh, really?"

You nodded your frank confirmation. "I'm responsible for dividing up the assets."

That coaxed a chuckle from him as he glanced to Eliza. "Seems like a big job. Why wasn't I offered the position?"

"'Cause you aren't as nice as Y/N," she said matter-of-factly, and your eyebrows shot up. "You can't be mean to them while they're going through a divorce."

"Seriously?"

"You heard her," you said, casting Philip a look of faux contempt. "You have to be gentle with their feelings."

"And I'm not good enough at that?" He raised an eyebrow, and although his smile was still light, your conversation still surface-level, the broader circumstances left a heavy undertone in his words that put you on edge. You forced a smile.

"I wouldn't know."

"No, he isn't good enough at it, Y/N," Eliza Jr. insisted, yanking you abruptly from beginning to overanalyze his words. "You can leave us alone, Pip. We've got it handled."

"You're just gonna send me away?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged, and he turned to you. "C'mon, back me up, here."

"Actually, you should stay," you agreed, but at the tension in your tone, he furrowed his brow. "I'm going to go inside for a little; I need something to drink." You turned to Eliza Jr. with a smile. "Is it alright if Philip holds down the fort for a while with the divorce? I give him my full endorsement."

She huffed, folding her arms. "Okay. But don't stay away too long; my Barbie needs you."

"Thanks, Eliza. He promises he won't let you down; don't you, Pip?"

Although you offered him a light smile, the skepticism in his gaze didn't dissipate. "Yeah, of course," he ultimately said, turning back to his sister. "So, fill me in. What tore their marriage apart?"

You couldn't help your soft smile at how serious he looked as Eliza handed him the plush crocodile, but when he shifted in his seat, you flinched, figured he was about to turn to see you standing there stating at him. When he didn't, you took a deep breath and continued back toward the house. You were struggling to keep your bearings. Keep it together, Y/N.

Unfortunately, you'd spent the weekend so focused on Philip (too focused on Philip) that you hadn't bothered to give the layout of the house a second glance. The minute you stepped inside, you were essentially wandering.

You greeted Philip's family (and non-family) members in passing on your way, struggling to connect names to faces and forgetting whether the man who asked where to find Philip was John Laurens or John Church. They asked you if you needed help finding something, but no, you assured them you were just making a run inside to retrieve something from your suitcase.

That was how you found yourself in a secluded little library off at the far end of the first floor. You sank into the cool leather couch with a sigh, glad to be able to finally catch your breath — you could still see the reunion just outside the window, though, and the thoughts that'd had your head spinning all day didn't care to subside.

You only realized you were looking for him after you found him, still seated with Eliza Jr., but it seemed Eliza Sr. had found a role in the divorce proceedings, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You jumped at the gentle voice that came from the doorway off to your left. You'd thought you were alone, but when you turned, you found a woman walking in to join you who couldn't have been more than 45.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, standing up with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude; I just—"

"No, none of that," —she waved off your apology, the wine in her tall glass sloshing about— "Eliza and Alex don't care where you go in their house. Their kids are seven too many for them to give a damn what happens to their property. You could trash the place, and they'd blame William."

You weren't quite sure whether you should stay, though. You froze in the process of standing up, eyeing the woman warily. She laughed. "What I mean is, relax. Geez."

Her easy nonchalance was putting you more at ease, and when you sat back down, she joined you on the other side of the couch. A moment passed, and you were about to fill the silence, but she beat you to it.

"So, I don't recognize you, which must mean you're the girl Philip tricked into coming home with him for a weekend," she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

"I..." you started, trailing off as you processed her words, and when she raised her eyebrows, you said, "yeah, I guess that'd be me. I'm Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are. Think I've seen you in a few photos, but after the first five niece-in-laws, they all started to look the same," she sighed, clearly expecting you to commiserate with her. You were still stuck on trying to figure her out before you said anything you shouldn't.

She bumped her elbow into yours. "Don't look so scared. I'm not saying I'm expecting you two to get married anytime soon," she assured you. "Philip's never been great with commitment, either. You're the only long-term relationship he's had since high school, y'know."

So her quip about Philip 'tricking you into coming home with him' really was just a joke. The tension in your shoulders eased.

"I mean, we're taking things slow. One day at a time," you said, plastering on a smile. You hesitated. "But I'm sorry, have we met?"

She laughed, took another sip of her drink, and as she shook her head, you weren't sure what to make of how entertaining she was finding your question.

"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'm Philip's Aunt Peggy, Eliza's sister. Probably should've covered that before ambushing you in the library, huh?"

"That's alright." Your smile was candid, then. "It's really nice to meet you; Philip's told me quite a bit about you."

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all." She was still eyeing you skeptically as she swirled her wine glass. "He's told me all your travel stories — I hear you're the fun aunt. Can you confirm?"

She shrugged it off, but her smile was wide. "Ah, he's just saying that because I sent the Hamiltons desserts in bulk when I was abroad. I'm just funding his materialism."

"To be fair, if any of my aunts sent me that much candy, they'd be my favorites, too," you reasoned.

"Aw, I'm his favorite?"

"Don't tell the others."

She snickered. "No promises."

"Well, if you do, don't rat me out," you warned, but your smile was amused. "You didn't hear it here."

"Alright, alright, I'll give you a pass," she sighed, "but only 'cause you're my favorite of the girls he's dated. You didn't hear that here, either."

"Don't make that call just yet," you said skeptically. "You hardly know me."

"No, but I've heard about you," she said. "I can tell you're better for Philip than any of his exes were. Just take me at my word."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and you eyed her dubiously. "What about Henriette? As far as your family's concerned, she can do no wrong."

The sidelong glance Peggy gave you was amused, but you shifted in your seat as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't need to worry about Henriette." Your eyebrows shot up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a sweet girl."

The thought didn't seem quite complete, though, and you waited for her to continue. "...but?"

"But, well... at the end of the day, she was bad for him, and that was that," Peggy said frankly. "I mean, he broke up with her for a reason."

"He broke up with her?" The disbelief was clear in your voice, but Peggy didn't pay it any mind. She just nodded.

"Philip was head over heels for that girl, once upon a time." She turned to you, and your unease must've been written more clearly across your face than you thought. She gave you a comforting smile, rested a hand on your knee. "Don't look so worried, please," she reiterated. "Their relationship was unhealthy. Philip gave her the world, but she always wanted more. It took a toll on him."

"And what makes you think I'm any better?" you asked skeptically.

"Because he doesn't think you're perfect."

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"I promise, that's a good thing," she assured you, but you weren't so confident in her words. She looked entertained at how taken aback you clearly were. In what world was that 'good'? "The reason none of his other relationships lasted was because he saw the women with rose-colored glasses. And I don't blame him; it happens."

"So, he's thought everyone else he dated was perfect?"

She nodded sagely. "He realizes that there are drawbacks to your relationship, love. There are drawbacks to any relationship, of course."

"Well, yeah."

"But he can actually see them, with you. And he still wants you. Don't discount that." She sounded wholly confident in her argument, but you only pursed your lips.

After a moment, she added, "He has a bad record of putting girls on pedestals. But I think he sees you for what you are."

"Someone with a lot of drawbacks?" Your gaze was still disbelieving as you eyed her, but she laughed.

"Well, I suppose." She turned to you. "But someone that's still worth it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." Your voice was soft, and Peggy squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"It's rare, too. He's lucky to have found you." You pursed your lips. "So he'd better treat you right, or I'll set him straight. Just call up old Aunt Peggy; I've got your back."

The severity in her tone made you laugh, and she cracked a smile at your reaction. "I'll keep it in mind," you quipped. She nodded approvingly, and your smile was soft as she drained the remainder of her wine from her glass. "Thanks, Peggy."

"My pleasure."

Your eyes had wandered back to the window as you spoke, finding Philip easily as he crossed the yard with Georges and his wife, Emilie. They were talking enthusiastically; what they were saying was beyond you, but he laughed as Georges gave him a playful shove, and Emilie rolled her eyes at whatever he said next.

You didn't quite realize how soft your gaze was as you watched him, but Peggy did.

Moments later, when Philip happened to glance in your direction, he looked surprised to see you sitting there, but he grinned when he met your eyes. He gave you a short, timid wave, and you nodded back in greeting, the corners of your lips upturned. However, the interaction just drew Georges's attention to where you'd hidden yourself away, and when he saw you, his greeting was far more dramatic, waving, gesturing for you to come back out, apparently shouting something at you from outside (without a care in the world about the fact that you couldn't hear him). You couldn't help but laugh outright, returning his wave, and Georges turned to Philip. Whatever he said when he nudged him just made Philip shake his head, apparently exasperated.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" You turned with a start; Peggy's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, I, um– Well–" You cut yourself off as she raised a concerned eyebrow, and you blinked hard, forced a smile as you gathered your bearings. "I mean... yeah. Of course."

You swallowed hard; how nervous you were was clearly apparent, and Peggy rested a hand on your arm, wearing an apologetic smile. "Oh, lord, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," she said. "I just assumed, y'know, after two years together, you two would've said that by now." When you pursed your lips, she was quick to backtrack. "And not that you should've! It's perfectly alright that you haven't."

"No, no, I mean, we have, I just..." you trailed off, unsure exactly how to justify your reaction. Peggy's dark brow knit.

"Then what's got you so nervous to confirm it? You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"No," was all you said, but there wasn't much conviction in your tone. When you met Peggy's gaze, you were relieved to see that the look in her eye wasn't of skepticism but was instead of concern.

"That answer sounded like it came with stipulations, love."

"No, it didn't," you assured her, but she raised an eyebrow. A beat passed. You swallowed hard. "It's just... how do you know if you love someone?"

Peggy tilted her head to one side. "Have you never been in love before?"

"I mean, I have," you acquiesced, and when you didn't go on, she filled the silence.

"So don't you know what it feels like when you're in love, then?"

"It's just... been a while." Your gaze drifted down to the printed rug before the couch, focus suddenly on how the toes of your shoes sank into the plush fabric. Peggy rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard, gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is, really."

"You can talk to me, y'know. I won't go spilling your business to the family."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Well," you started, turning away from Peggy, gaze unfocused, "I don't know how I feel about Philip, honestly."

"You're sure there's no issue between you two?"

"It's nothing he's done," you said softly, and after you swallowed hard, you finally admitted, "but... I'm a widow. I haven't been with anyone else since my late husband, and it's been years, now."

"You're a widow?" she repeated, and you nodded.

"We married young. But since he passed, I..." You shrugged, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. As you wiped them away, you offered her a weak smile in an effort to ease how silly you were feeling. "I mean, that was my last serious relationship. It's been hard to figure out how to proceed from there."

"I'm so sorry," Peggy said softly, and the concerned look she wore was genuine. "Come here."

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side where you sat, and you gave her a grateful smile. "You're sweet, but I'm fine, honestly. It's been so long. But it might've left me with just a little fear of attachment."

"You poor thing; I can't imagine," she said, rubbing your upper back comfortingly. "But it's alright that you feel like this; you shouldn't feel guilty about being slower to open up."

"I didn't say I felt guilty."

"Do you?"

A long moment passed in silence, and eventually, you said softly, "...I mean, honestly? Yeah. It sucks to not be able to figure out what it is I'm feeling. I… I can’t help but think Philip deserves better."

"We've all been there at one time or another. Don't beat yourself up."

"How did you know you loved your husband?" you asked, and she pursed her lips, thought on it for a moment.

"Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt," she said, "but I've told quite a number of people I loved them in all my life, and it took me quite a few failed romances to figure out which ones were real."

"Then how did you decide what love actually was?" you asked hesitantly, and Peggy's gaze was absent, faraway, but her smile was tender.

"I realized I was in love when being with them meant more to me than my freedom," she said. "That's why they never lasted. I spent my twenties traveling the world, jumping from job to job and partner to partner."

"'Partner to partner'?" you interjected, an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. "Partner, significant other, whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"We say boyfriend, usually."

She gave you an amused smile with that, though, turning to again meet your gaze. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," she replied frankly. "They were rarely men."

"Oh!" Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to assume—"

"That's just fine. No need to apologize." She shrugged, but she looked entertained at how panicked you were, immediately trying to backtrack. "But anyway, I was only willing to settle down with my husband when keeping my lifestyle would've meant losing him."

Your smile was soft. "That's sweet."

"Oh, is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Well, good. I half expected you to think I was talking nonsense."

Her candid surprise made you laugh. "No, I appreciate it. It's been nice to have someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm glad." She nudged your arm lightly, wearing a small smile. "And I know you'll be fine. Take as much time as you need to figure it out; I have a feeling Philip will be there waiting for you in the end."

-----

You didn't go back outside after that.

The weight of everything you'd just unloaded onto his aunt hit you like a freight train, and her words stuck with you. You were second-guessing everything that'd happened that weekend, replaying all the little things you took for granted: the enigmatic advice Georges had apparently given Philip when you first arrived at your office all those years ago; what his niece had heard him saying about you. His teasing comments, the stolen glances, the accidental, fleeting touches that lasted just a moment longer than they should've. It all added up to one larger picture that you weren't sure you wanted to see.

And your theory that you were there to make his ex jealous was blown wide open the minute you found out Philip had been the one to end things with Henriette. (No wonder she'd been trying to trudge up their old memories.)

You refused to think any further than that; you knew the conclusions you'd have to draw would make all this so much more real. And that thought scared you more than anything.

You were pacing the halls of the Hamiltons' first floor. The only reason you finally went upstairs was because one too many cousins had asked you where you were going — you’d been telling people you were headed up to get something from Philip’s room for nearly the past half hour.

That was how you found yourself seated on the end of Philip's bed, reeling from the afternoon's events.

You did retrieve something from your suitcase, ultimately. The deep-red, velveteen box was soft under your fingertips as you played with it anxiously, picking at the sides but never quite working up the nerve to open it. It wasn’t like it’d been that long since you opened it, either; it couldn’t have been more than a week, but this time, when you flicked it open, staring down at the gold band and its tiny diamond felt different.

What would John think if he could see you there?

Patsy was convinced he’d only want you to be happy, and that he wouldn’t mind who you were with. She’d tell you it was time to move on with your life. But did moving on have to mean leaving him behind?

And falling for someone else felt like abandonment of the worst kind. It felt like you were cheating on him, like you and he were falling out of love. As much as you still missed him, as much as you grieved for him, every day, the memory of what it felt like to be his slipped further away from your grasp.

You ran your fingers over the cold metal of the ring, and your hands shook as you slipped it onto your ring finger. For a fleeting moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were still somebody’s wife.

Light footsteps padded down the hall outside Philip’s room, and they were quiet enough that they didn’t snap you out of your reverie until the door’s hinges creaked. Your heart stopped.

And to your relief, the person who opened the door was just six-year-old William.

“Philip, are you…” He trailed off when he saw you on Philip’s bed, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Oh! Did you see Philip in here?”

“Hey, William,” you said, but your accompanying laugh held a hint of anxiety. “Philip isn’t up here; sorry. Last I saw him, he was out in the backyard.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Can you help me find him? Daddy needs him, but I don’t wanna make him sad ‘cause I don’t know where Pip is. I think he’s hiding from us.”

“Yeah, sure; I’d love to help,” you answered, and your endeared smile was candid. His determination was almost making you forget about your ring entirely.

“Thank you.” He seemed more than ready to drag you out of Philip’s bedroom, watching you eagerly as you hesitated to stand and go with him. You’d hoped he’d go ahead and let you catch up with him momentarily, but he stood there and watched you expectantly where you sat on the bed, and you apparently had two options: take the ring off then and hope William didn’t realize it was a wedding ring, or wear it out and hope you can find a time to hide it discreetly. The only issue was that you had no pocket to leave it in.

“No problem; let’s go.” You ended up choosing the former. William’s eyes didn’t leave you as you popped the ring’s box back open, and when you heard him gasp, your miscalculation became obvious.

“Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“No! No, it… I mean yes, but—”

“When did you and Pip get married?” Oh, fuck. Your pulse was pushing into overdrive. “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? What about Mama and Pops?”

“We didn’t… we didn’t not invite you, but—”

“But I wasn’t there.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a groan when he wore a deep frown. “Did your parents come?”

“No, they—”

“Why didn’t you and Pip tell us?” he asked. “It was a special location.”

Special loca…? “Special occasion?”

“That’s what I said.” He wore a pout. “Well, now we’ve gotta go tell everyone, c’mon.”

He turned and started running, and you swallowed hard. Oh, shit.

“Wait, William, come back!” you called after him, and you scowled when he didn’t stop. You had to finish putting the ring away before you could start after him — going back out to his family with it would only spell disaster. “William?”

By the time you took the ring off, tucked its box back into your suitcase, it seemed he was out of earshot. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was nowhere to be found; he’d weaved between his family members’ legs until he was out of sight.

Well, you were certainly, thoroughly fucked.

You began to wade through the crowd in the kitchen, eyes darting around the floor for any sign of a retreating William, going through room after room to no avail, but your heart rate was steadily increasing with every moment you didn’t find him.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes until one of Philip’s family members approached you.

“Y/N?” Frances Laurens— no, Frances Henderson, who’d taken her husband’s name the previous summer, approached you from behind, and you spun around abruptly in surprise. “Hey, when were you going to tell us that you and Philip were engaged?”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“William just told us.” She nudged you with a lopsided grin. “Congrats; welcome to the family.”

“Oh, no, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“Wait, you’re getting married?” The William who interjected into your conversation was, unfortunately, not the one you were looking for. Instead, you followed the voice to find the younger Mulligan son standing with a beer.

“No, no, it’s not like… William just— well, not you William, William Hamilton—”

“Hey, William just told me you and Philip were finally getting married. What made you decide to tie the knot?” That was Georges, and your head jerked in his direction.

“Oh, thank god there’s going to be another woman at family dinners when he’s in town.” Angelica Hamilton approached from your left.

“Wait, what? Do you have a date for the wedding?” You hadn’t a clue which of the Lafayette sisters that was (well, you knew it wasn’t Henriette). “You better invite all of us. You might need a big venue to fit the whole family.”

Oh, god, you were in deep. It seemed William had managed to do quite a bit of damage without a whole lot of time.

“I need to talk to Philip,” you said, voice breathy. You knew you sounded winded, but his family all wore wide grins, patting you on the back or squeezing your shoulders — the Hamilton-Schuyler-Lafayette-Laurens-Mulligans were certainly a touchy-feely bunch.

“Yeah, where is your fiancé?” Georges asked, scanning the room.

“He’s not—”

“Hey, Philip!” It seemed he’d found him, yelling across the dining room, and Philip started toward you with his hands in his pockets, watching the crowd that’d formed around you curiously. “You ever planning on telling us you proposed? Or were you gonna wait till you had your firstborn, huh?”

Georges’s grin was wide as he shoved Philip affectionately, but Philip’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“William spilled everything. Congrats, you two,” Frances said, and when Philip met your eyes, you looked defeated.

“Oh, did he?”

“Relax, we’re all excited for you. No one’s mad that you hid it.” Apparently, you weren’t the only one who heard the tension in Philip’s voice as he glanced between you and Angelica warily, and she squeezed your upper arm with a smile. “It’s great news.”

“Yeah, no wonder you finally brought her home.” The Mulligan son— shit, his name was escaping you. Was it Wyatt? Winston? No, shit, what were you thinking? He was also William; how the hell did you forget—?

“I’m sorry, what exactly did Will tell you?” Philip asked hesitantly.

“He saw Y/N with the ring a little while ago. Not sure why you decided to hide such big news from us, but—”

“Right, can I have a word with my fiancée real quick?” He met your eyes with an urgent look, and you winced. “In private?”

“Oh, c’mon, it was an honest mistake; don’t be too hard on her,” Georges said. “Does it really matter? We were gonna find out anyway, so—”

“We’ll be back down in a bit.” Philip spoke through clenched teeth as he cut Georges off, walking toward you, and he grabbed you by the bicep, grip tight as he pulled you toward the doorway. Your breath caught when you stumbled forward. You were out of earshot before any of his family members could get another word in, and you struggled to keep pace with his long strides as he continued toward the staircase.

“Come on.” His voice was low when you reached the home’s entrance hall, and when he started upstairs to his room, you were quick to follow him. He locked the door behind you.

A moment passed in silence as he turned around to face you. The tension in the air was thicker than your ass.

He folded his arms.

“Care to explain why my entire family thinks we’re engaged?”

“It’s…” You rubbed your forehead as though it’d relieve your throbbing headache. “It was an accident. I swear it was; William just… he saw me with a ring, and he thought—”

“Why the hell did he think we were getting married? What’d you tell him?” Philip’s voice was rising as he spoke, and you had to swallow the lump building in your throat.

“I didn’t tell him we were engaged,” you defended. “I was just putting my ring back in its box, and he made an assumption. That’s it.”

“What ring?” he asked. “You aren’t wearing a ring. I haven’t seen you with a ring all fucking weekend. Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not.” You huffed. “What, do you think I did this on purpose? That I wanted your family to think we were engaged?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“No; why would I?”

“Oh, be honest, Y/N. You just agreed to come home with me this weekend so that you could fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you really believe I’m just here to make your life harder? That I want to push you deeper into your stupid fucking lie?” you asked incredulously. “I came to cover for you. Because you told them we’d been together for two years.”

He scoffed. “Please, like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to mess with my personal life. Let’s face it; we both know you’ve never liked me.”

“We weren’t friends, but I’ve never had any sort of vendetta against you.” Your scowl deepened, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“You told me that you were the one person in our office who hated me. Word-for-word,” he retorted. “Did you do this to get back at me for using you as my fake girlfriend?”

“I don’t hate you.” He didn’t think that it was reasonable for your tone to be that defensive. “I've never hated you; I… I was just being dramatic. And even if I did have it out for you, I wouldn’t do this to your family.”

“Then why didn’t you tell William that we weren’t engaged?” he asked. “Hm? What the hell happened that my entire family managed to learn that you’d told him we were getting married in all of five minutes?”

“I tried to tell him we weren’t, but he was asking about the ring, and—”

��You should’ve told him it wasn’t an engagement ring!”

“I tried to! He asked if it was a wedding ring, though, and…” Your voice trailed off. The smallest shreds of a sob were building in your throat, and you were trying to speak through them, but your chest was tightening.

“And you didn’t set him straight?”

“It was a wedding ring, Philip. He stopped me before I could explain that we weren’t getting married, and by the time I could go after him, he was already downstairs. I lost him in the kitchen; I couldn’t stop him,” you said. “I swear, I tried to prevent this.”

A moment passed in silence. His gaze was absent, fixed on the floor, and he was shaking his head ever-so-slightly in disbelief.

“Why’d you have a wedding ring if you didn’t come here planning to fuck up my family life? If you didn’t wanna bury me further in this stupid lie I told to get my family off my back?” he asked. “Were you wearing the wedding ring?”

You nodded. “He came in, and I tried to hide it before coming downstairs, but—”

“Why the hell were you wearing a wedding ring?”

“I only put it on for a minute!”

“Why do you even have one? And why would you bring it home this weekend?”

“It’s…” Your jaw ached as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You blinked back the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. You didn’t want him to see the old emotions that were breaking loose. “It’s old. I got it years ago.”

“What? Why?” The incredulity in his voice was making you cringe, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “What am I supposed to do with this, Y/N? You really expect me to believe that you wearing a wedding ring around my family was completely innocent? That you didn’t—?”

“I’m a widow, Philip.” You nearly had to shout to be loud enough to cut him off, and while he’d begun pacing in agitation, your words made him freeze.

He turned to you. “...You what?”

“I’m a widow,” you repeated softly, and his wide eyes met yours as he saw the tears building in them.

“I…” He started to reply, but his voice faltered. All the anger had been wiped from his expression, replaced quickly with surprise, apology, worry. “Shit, Y/N. I… fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” His voice was quiet.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.” You wiped at your left eye when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s not like I ever talked about it.”

When he took a seat beside you on the bed, his hand came tentatively to cover yours. You drew in a shuddering breath. “Still. I’m sorry I… well, that I blew up like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your past like this; I—”

“It’s fine, Philip. Really.” You laced your fingers into his, squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one expects a 26-year-old to be a widow. I don’t blame you.”

He nodded when you glanced up at him, and goosebumps ran up your arm when he swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “What was his name?” he asked quietly, and you pursed your lips.

“John.” You sniffled. “We met in high school, got married just after we graduated college.” Although you paused, he didn’t say anything, giving you room to pause, take a breath, and you knew that if you wanted to go on, he was there to listen. “We… god, we were so happy, for a while. I followed him to New York for college; I swore I’d never plan my life around a man, and I knew he wouldn’t ask me to, but I didn’t want to live without him. I was so sure that we wouldn’t break up, so I didn’t think we had anything to lose.”

Your voice was devolving into a croak as you went on, and you had to swallow your whimper when you came dangerously close to crying. He could hear your words breaking.

It caught you off guard when Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you into his side. The action was hesitant, and his grip on you was soft; he half expected you to recoil from his touch, but when you pulled closer, leaned against him, he held you close.

“He died almost two years after we graduated,” you murmured, cheek pressed against Philip’s shoulder. His shirt was damp from your slow, silent tears. “No one saw it coming. He was shot when someone broke into our house. It all happened in less than an hour, and then he was gone.”

Your voice broke altogether with your final few words. You could no longer keep down the sob in your throat, try as you might to keep speaking through it. You drew in a shuddering breath, but when you exhaled, you were crying audibly, tears flowing freely. “Shit, I… I didn’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You didn’t need to know all my…” —you hiccuped— “all my stupid fucking trauma, but—”

“Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, and the warmth rising in your chest wasn’t something you wanted to be able to explain when he turned toward you on the bed, wrapped his other arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into him. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

As much as you were caught in your head, struggling to claw your way out of the memories you’d buried yourself in, you couldn’t have been more present in that moment. Philip smelled like the sun, like freshly-washed cotton, like lazy mornings after a long night of sleep; he smelled like something you couldn’t describe as anything other than warm.

And so you let yourself cry. You didn’t explain anything further; he wasn’t going to ask, didn’t need to know how you’d moved across the city within a week of John’s funeral to get away from everything that felt so painfully like him. He wasn’t going to pry. If you wanted to talk, wanted to tell him anything, needed someone who was just there to listen, that was your prerogative, and he wouldn’t try to force it. You were free to take your time, safe in his arms.

He rubbed your upper back, and your eyes fell shut.

“Thanks for being here,” you mumbled against the scratchy material of his button-down. “I… I’m sorry I made such a damn mess of your family life. I didn’t mean to; I swear, I—” You were cut off by a hiccup, a shuddering sob, and he held the side of your head against his chest, stroking your hair absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. I’m gonna be just fine, alright? It’s you I’m worried about.”

You wore a watery smile at his words. “You’re too nice. I… I fucked up, and you don’t have to pretend you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine. Honest.” Only when your breathing evened out did he lean back, lift your chin to look at him. He offered you a small, lopsided smile. “So, I guess we’re gonna have to go back down there and tell my parents we’re engaged, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t look so sad, princess; this is supposed to be a celebration.” The guilt weighing on your shoulders must’ve been written across your face, and as he nudged you lightly, his words made you laugh.

“Mmh, we’ve really hit a relationship milestone, haven’t we?”

“Looks like it,” he said. “So, what’s the story? How’d I propose? Was it oh-so-touching, or did I butcher it ‘cause I was an emotional mess?”

“Well, you had a whole speech prepared,” you informed him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

“I did?”

“You did.” You nodded. “Only problem was that when you got down on one knee, you were crying too hard to be able to actually get through it. You were just so moved by how beautiful I looked that night, and you couldn’t keep your feelings in check when you thought about spending the rest of your life with me.”

“You sound like you’ve really thought this out,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been fantasizing about it. I know how incredible and attractive I am, but I didn’t think we were on that level yet.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” You couldn’t contain your entertained grin. “This was all Theo’s fantasy that she told me while you were ignoring her. She’s still really convinced it’ll happen, so I guess now you have an instruction manual for your engagement with her.”

That made him laugh outright. “When Theo and I get engaged?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now you’re really talking nonsense.” He shook his head, but as he eyed your expression, the tear tracks on your face, his brow furrowed with concern. “...Are you alright, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, wiped your tears away, and you found yourself staring. The look in his dark eyes was heavy; god, you could’ve drowned in it, and his eyes were watering, too, no doubt from watching you cry, from seeing how much pain you were in, how deep your grief ran.

He wished he could take that all away from you. If he could shoulder the burden for you, no matter how heavy, he’d have done it in a split second — even if you didn’t want him, even if you’d never look at him in the same way that he looked at you, he knew you, and he knew you didn’t deserve to suffer like this. He cleaned the smeared mascara from under your eyes with the end of his sleeve as though somehow, some way, that could alleviate your suffering.

And you couldn’t see all of that. But you saw how he looked at you. That much was unmistakable.

He held you as though, if he let go, you might break, and in that moment, part of you felt like you might. He’d never thought he’d really be holding you like that.

But there was so much care in his gentle gaze, although you had no way to know all that was going on beneath it. You felt safe, safer than you’d felt in a long time as he rubbed circles into the small of your back, shifting you onto his lap, and he was so close, his face just inches from yours. If you leaned forward just a little, you could kiss him.

And when your gaze trailed down to his lips, downturned in a concerned frown, as consumed in you as every other part of him, you did. You finally took the opportunity presented to you, and you didn’t intend to let yourself continue to squander it.

Sitting on his lap at the end of his bed, you kissed him.

319 notes · View notes

thechosenferret · 4 years ago

Text

Okay I just need to spam with all the things I could finalllly notice in Hamilton soo

The way the show portrayed time by having two different scenarios being sung about during the same time yet through slowly walking down stairs and stuff they’re both passing at different times

A main one is when Angelica comes back to America and does that by slowly descending the stairs.

The way the lights went out on Phillip when he died

The blue light on John during the interlude.

Just the entire cast, they were all so fabulous

And everyone behind the scenes, just absolutely wowe

How the ensemble had so many different outfits yet they all looked like the same outfit if you don’t pay attention, but they add sooo much more to the world

Very theoretically, would Hamilton be alive if at the very beginning of the dual he rose the pistol at the sky instead of a last second choice? So burr knew he wasn’t gonna kill him in the end.

The ensemble was absolutely wonderful. I love them all, they deserve so much praise. I am very gay for all of the girls in it, especially the top left one. Again, they were all so bloody amazing, I cannot stress that enough.

Also they are all much much gayer on stage, especially Laurens

Those very long glances and looks at Hamilton while the rest of the squad looks elsewhere. That’s gay, son.

Hamilton swipping away a tear as he goes into Non-stop.

Jonathan Groff’s expressions being fabulous when he physically cannot move under the weight of his costume

But also when he took off his crown during the second act to go mayhem with the other, perfect.

Props to him he absolutely controlled the stage up there

And Leslie Odum Jr. Just wow, seeing him made Burr just so much more,,, Burr. Ya know?

I never noticed how sick and stiff Madison is during the show, but everything made so much more sense after realizing that

Another of me not realizing things is the line from My Shot “Enter me, he says in parentheses” is a reference to a script where (Enter me) is referring to ham entering into the revolution and stuff. My brain just didn’t catch that.

On the same note, lots of the lines now have a million more reasons behind them when you can see them deliver it, especially with Burr.

In the first act, I can’t remember who was the amazing soul who did it, but on the second story stairs he jumped up onto the middle of the railing and was having a good old time

Also I really wanna know how they handled the fire, cause it looked like they slipped the extra papers into a different spot in the bucket so that they only burned the single paper.

The way Burr posed in the spotlight after The Room Where It Happens with his fingers pointing down, directly opposite how Hamilton points up. Wowe

Lin’s voice gets really deep whenever he’s tearing up and sad, and it hurt so much more.

The main cast slowly appearing in their white outfits from the start after they died

How, especially in Your Obedient Servant, they separated the songs from what was currently happening ever so slightly so that instead of them singing what he was writing, he sang what he wrote as he signed it off and sent it away. Idk why I like this so much I just do

Of course Ham’s lists slowly making their way to Burr and the ensemble member’s face when she joked with him on the last one!

Ham’s fists were clenched so so much.

Jefferson kept making me smile after sad things with just himself and his wonderful dance moves.

Speaking of dance moves, the chOREOGRAPHY WOW

The small pieces of ballet thrown in, mainly with that one ensemble member.

At the very end when Anthony Ramos was in the second story on the stage, he had to portray both Laurens and Phillip so he showed himself as Laurens and then spun into a spot next to him where he then represented Phillip.

The lights. Just wow. The square lights. Wow. Everything about the lights. Wow

Also I 100% teared up during the first song. I have absolutely no shame about that.

#as you can kinda tell i un really like theatre #like i really would like to go into theatre as a job #imma rewatch it tomorrow probably and add more #hamilton #hamiltonfilm #hamilton musical #hamilton the musical

354 notes · View notes

thesportssoundoff · 6 years ago

Text

“So this card is damn good, eh?” UFC Fight Night From Brazil

Joey

Jan 27th, 2019

The first card for ESPN+ had a little bit of everything; there was a big title fight with two division relevance, a big clash between a rising LW contender and an old war horse, familiar faces, up and coming prospects and some good old fashioned low brow chaos for all to take in. This card is different across the board but that's not in a bad way. In the weirdest way, it's just a collection of really great fights up and down the marquee. You have a bantamweight #1 contender type clash as the headliner, Jose Aldo vs Renato Moicano as the co-main event in what should be a fuckin' great fight, potentially the last fight of Demian Maia's career and a collection of fights with prospects facing prospects, prospects facing proven UFC veterans and some good sleeper fights across weight classes like flyweight (both men and women) and lightweight. This card probably won't Ready to have some fun?

Fights: 13

Debuts: Sarah Frota, Talia Santos, Jairzinho Rozenstruik, Rogério Bontorin, Geraldo de Freitas, Felipe Colares

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 1 (Dmitry Sosnovskiy OUT, Jairzinho Rozenstruik IN vs Junior Albini)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC): 7 (Jose Aldo, Demian Maia, Raphael Assuncao, Marlon Moraes, Charles Oliveira, David Teymur, Thiago Santos)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC: 2 (Demian Maia, Junior Albini)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC: 6 (Marlon Moraes, Raphael Assuncao, Renato Moicano, Charles Oliveira, David Teymur, Ricardo Ramos)

Main Card Record Since Jan 1st 2017 (in the UFC): 23-10

Raphael Assuncao- 4-0 Marlon Moraes- 3-1 Jose Aldo- 1-2 Renato Moicano- 3-1 Demian Maia- 1-3 Lyman Good- 1-1 Charles Oliveira- 4-1 David Teymur- 3-0 Johnny Walker- 1-0 Justin Ledet- 1-1 Livia Souza- 1-0 Sarah Frota- 0-0

Fights By Weight Class (yearly number here):

Bantamweight- 2 (3) Featherweight- 2 (2) Welterweight- 2 (4) Lightweight- 1 (4) Middlewieght- 1 (1) Flyweight- 1 (3) Light Heavyweight- 1 (2) Heavyweight- 1 (2) Women's Strawweight- 1 (1) Women's Flyweight- 1 (3)

2019’s Records We Keepin Track Of:

Debuting Fighters (0-4): Sarah Frota, Talia Santos, Jairzinho Rozenstruik, Rogério Bontorin, Geraldo de Freitas, Felipe Colares, Anthony Hernandez

Short Notice Fighters (0-2): Jairzinho Rozenstruik

Second Fight (2-1): Said Nurmagomedov, Livia Souza, Johnny Walker

Cage Corrosion (Fighters who have not fought within a year of the date of the fight) (2-0): Magomed Bibulatov

Undefeated Fighters (1-2): Sarah Frota, Anthony Hernandez, Talia Santos, Felipe Colares

Fighters with at least four fights in the UFC with 0 wins over competition still in the organization:

Weight Class Jumpers (Fighters competing outside of the weight class of their last fight even if they’re returning BACK to their “normal weight class”) (2-3): Said Nurmagomedov

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- The biggest "pondering" I have is whether or not the result of Cejudo vs Dillashaw wrecked the relevance for our main event. To be 100% fair and on the nose, the winner of this fight had to face TJ Dillashaw for the title should he have beaten Cejudo. Even if Raphael is a drab fight on paper due to Dillashaw dominating the second fight, Raphael would've been beyond every other potential title contender by a sizable margin with little room for debate. If Moraes became the first guy since Dillashaw to beat Assuncao over the past like four years? I can't imagine there being an argument about him as the #1 contender either. Cejudo finishing Dillashaw forces everybody to sit back down and try to reconfigure what this fight really means. Now it's no longer in theory a #1 contender fight outright since you're probably getting a Dillashaw vs Cejudo rematch soon. How soon and what weight class (rematch at flyweight? Cejudo going for two?) puts the winner of this fight in a potential year long limbo (if Cejudo vs Dillashaw happens in July, chances are we're not seeing Moraes/Assuncao vs Cejudo/Dillashaw winner until 2019). What a weird stupid spot to be in.

2- It's weird that the co-main event is eerily similar while also being completely different if that makes any sort of sense at all. This is a #1 contender fight that may not be one and yet I'm pretty intrigued in the number of ways it can go. It's like a weird RL Stein Choose Your MMA Adventure Book:

Holloway stays at 145 lbs, Moicano wins so you get Moicano vs Holloway eventually.

Holloway goes up to 155 lbs, Moicano wins means you have no Holloway so do you do Moicano/Ortega 2 or Moicano/Volkanovski or does Frankie Edgar come into play?

Holloway stays at 145 lbs, Aldo wins so it's down to either Edgar getting a shot at Holloway despite losing to Aldo twice (aka the UFC 222 main event on paper) or you go with Holloway vs Volkanovski or you try to convince yourself that fans will want to see Holloway scrub Aldo a third time.

Holloway goes up to 155 lbs, Aldo wins means all sorts of chaos. Can't do Aldo vs Edgar III when Aldo won the first two fights so you might go with Volkanovski vs Aldo but at the same time does Aldo get a title shot if he wants to retire so do you just ignore Aldo/Moicano and go with Volkanosvki vs Ortega or Edgar vs Ortega 2 or does Yair get involved or so on so forth.

A lot of unique scenarios at play here.

3- The first Assuncao vs Moraes fight could be summed up as a better version of every big Assuncao fight. He neutralizes guys, does enough to win rounds, stifles their offensive gameplan and then leaves with a tight decision win. Moraes looked pretty nervous in his UFC debut, got dropped by Assuncao early and a late rally (in many ways punctuating a staring contest where the guy who did something gets the boost) wasn't enough. What changes has Moraes made to his game and can they be implemented against a bigger sturdier guy. For all of Assuncao's physical limitations (he looked like he was moving at Tim Boetsch speed vs TJ Dillashaw), his style works because of his size, how he implements his size/strength advantage and his ability to always get opponents to commit to fighting his style of fight. Assuncao beats you like the Patriots; he takes away whatever you deem to be your best path to victory and then asks you if you've got a good enough back up plan. Moraes didn't----so what's changing?

4- This is the first UFC card in quite some time that really seems 100% cool with loading up on Brazil vs Brazil fights without a short notice caveat (or a TUF finale). Your main and co-main events both have Brazil vs Brazil and outside of those two there are two other Brazil vs Brazil fights on the card. Wonder if that's just happenstance or the UFC is softening up on its stance of making these cards Brazil vs The World?

5- How ugly will rounds 2 and 3 of Good vs Maia be if it follows the usual Maia protocol?

6- Her debut went about as well as it could so color me intrigued in seeing Livia Souza again. This fight is a weird one though as rather than get a serious step up or some challenging middle of the road fighter who exists JUST for fights like these (looking at you, Randa Markos), she gets a DWCS debutante in Sarah Frota. There are some REAL Thiago Silva vibes from Sarah Frota from a fighter's perspective; the crazy tats, the menacing glare, the stalking with a heavy lead leg and the all power in every strike style she utilizes with extend-o arms to match. She's way too wild for Livia Souza in my estimation but if you watched Frota's Contender Series fight (as well as her SFL works), there's some danger here. It's a pretty compelling fight on paper.

7- The UFC rushing Johnny Walker into a fight with a guy who can strike really well but lacks any sort of power/wrestling game feels like the exact opposite of a set up fight. Ledet has boxed up heavyweights and while Walker's athleticism and versatility should lead him to the win, why put together a fight this dicey? Were there no OTHER clunky 205ers to find for the job?

8- Ricardo Ramos vs Said Nurmagomedov is a damn good fight but this feels like asking a lot of Said.

9- The UFC still wants Junior Albini to be a thing, huh?

10- Thiago Alves vs Max Griffin feels like a really weird fight to be excited about but alas I'm still with it. Griffin has developed pretty well in the UFC from the somewhat limited KO artist on the regional circuit. He's beaten Mike Perry, had success vs Curtis Millender in a losing effort and his fight with Elizeu Zaleski is one of those hidden gem sleeper classics. At this point in his career Thiago Alves is not the man who dominated the WW scene in 2009 and so forth but he's still got moments and glimpses of that guy. Griffin's improved everything but his striking defense as evidenced by him getting rocked in fights with Zaleski (multiple times), Millender and even a slim moment or two of trouble vs Mike Perry. This fight could be fun in a phone booth.

11- Kind of hidden on this card is Charles Oliveira vs David Teymur in a WHALE of a fight. Teymur came off of the failed TUF: Faber vs McGregor season where Artem Lobov and Ryan Hall were the two finalists. I think it's fair to say Teymur has eclipsed both of guys and in pretty short order. Wins over Drakkar Klose, Lando Vannata and Nik Lentz, all in fairly decisive fashion, have put Teymur in that weird breaking point spot other LWs have been before; he's good enough to be a top 10 guy but not flashy enough to get the fights necessary to creep into that mark. He's facing Charles Oliveira who is sort of the opposite of Teymur. Oliveira is a dynamic finisher with a slooowly developing middle game to get there whereas Teymur seemingly lacks the extra gear necessary to finish things against more competent opposition. This is fun stuff.

12- So does Lyman Good get RDA next if he wins?

#MMA #UFC #Aldo #Moicano #Teymur #Assuncao #Moraes #Brazil #Fight Night

2 notes · View notes

dads-back-from-the-store · 4 years ago

Text

ok work, look @ work,, SPACE OUTedgy?? no. SPACE OUT no WORK read half of the problem SPACE OUT STOP,SPACING OUT read the problem READ PROBLEM FIVE TIMES look at your teacher SPACE O no space out,,, I hope that you burrrnnnn,,,, I didn exactly as you said pa, I held my head up high,,,, I,,, I know ySTOP ok what the FUCK IS MATH HOW DO YOU DO GHIS FUCKINGSHIT I rememberthatnight i IM A GENERAL WHEEEE yeah, he’s not the choice I would’ve gone with hE SHITS THE BED AT THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. anthony ramos? hot. his hair is fucking goals holy shit he’s so cute and daveed diggs can dick me down, WORK work. ANGELICA ok ok I’m working *does the basic part of the problem* OK so let’s imagine a scenario where you fucking died and had a memorial at the school, wait what the fuck ahahaha EDGE LORD FUCKING EMO HAHAHAHAA YOU EDGY BITCH btw remember that one time where you got cheated on? HAHAHAHAHA you dumb bitch :’) OK work more work more LUNCH I WANT FUKCING LUCH FUCK awww gonna cry gonna cry WORK YOU DUMB WHORE gay? gay? no WORK

Having adhd and getting those questions on homework or tests that say “explain your thought process” like oh boy are you sure you wanna go down that road buddy

120K notes · View notes

femilton · 7 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Dream (Part III)

A/N: These next few parts will be mostly or all Lin, since that’s the way the narrative of the play goes (and I’m not sure where to fit the reader in between this and The Schuyler SIsters). Hopefully y’all will still enjoy it though! As always, be sure to leave some feedback so I know that people are reading and that I should post more parts -- because this fic, in case you haven’t guessed already, is going to be a longggg one...

Words: 902

Pairing: Daveed x reader, Lin x reader (ish)(we’ll get to that later)

Once Upon a Dream masterlist / + more

III. MY SHOT

[Lin’s POV]

Lin walked next to Burr to the pub, internally yelling. He was Alexander Hamilton. This was the perfect chance to test out the storyline of his play, to get a feel for the characters… it was like one big simulation, and he was the main character.

“Remember,” Burr said, putting his hand on the front door of the pub. “Talk less, smile more.” With his deep voice, it took on almost a melodic tune, but the meaning was not lost in the music. “Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.”

Lin turned to his comrade, confused. “Why not?” Burr sighed.

“It’s a dangerous time, Alexander. Loyalists and Revolutionaries alike are everywhere, and the constant confrontations are never pretty. The best advice I can give you is to keep your head down and progress in your own life without disturbing those around you too much.”

Lin shook his head. “But if you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?” He stepped past a concern-looking Burr and opened the door, entering the pub.

Immediately, Lin’s eyes fell upon a rowdy trio of men occupying a booth toward the back of the club, talking loudly and surrounded by empty glasses of beer. Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan, he recalled. Burr stepped into the pub, looking flustered.

“Alexander, please,” he pleaded. “Watch what you say. This area is crawling with passionate men like yourself, and I don’t want you getting in over your head.” He followed Lin’s gaze to the table with the rowdy men, where they were now all laughing loudly and gesturing wildly. “Oh, Alexander, not them please…”

But, to Burr’s chagrin, the men had already noticed him and his friend.

“Well, if it ain’t the prodigy of Princeton college!” Laurens cut in, extending a hand toward Lin and Burr, who were still standing awkwardly at the door. The man waved them over, and Burr sighed, but walked across the room. Lin followed giddily, having noticed that Laurens had the face of his good friend Anthony Ramos.

“Aaron Burr!” Mulligan, with the face of Okieriete Onaodowan, roared, taking another swig of his beer.

“Drop some knowledge, my man!” Laurens clapped Burr on the shoulder as he slid next to him in the booth. Beside him was Lafayette, with the face of Daveed Diggs. I am having so many double takes right now, thought Lin, as he stood by Burr’s side.

Burr shook his head, chuckling. “Good luck with that: you’re taking a stand. You spit. I’ll sit. We’ll see where we land.” Lafayette and Mulligan booed.

“Burr, the revolution’s imminent. What do you stall for?” Laurens asked.

Lin chimed in with his previous line, ingrained into his memory from years of coordinating this exact scenario. “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?” Burr shook his head as the drunk trio “ooh”ed again.

Lafayette chuckled, flashing his set of pearly whites. “Who is this kid?”

Mulligan chimed in. “What’s he gonna do?” The men stared at Lin expectantly, and he broke into a wide grin.

“I’m not throwing away my shot.” He took a quick swig out of Laurens’ beer, setting the empty mug down with a determinate thump. “I’m going to get a scholarship to King’s College, finish in two years, and join the military to kick King George’s rich ass.” The trio cheered, and Burr shook his head.

Lin kept a rhythm going, reciting the lines that had been tumbling around in his head for months. “Britain keeps shittin’ on us endlessly. Essentially, they tax us relentlessly, then King George turns around, runs a spending spree. He ain’t ever gonna set his descendents free, so there will be a revolution in this century. Enter me! I’ll lead my own troops before you know it, take down those Redcoats, and free our young nation from the evil clutches of monarchy.” The men applauded, Lafayette standing up with a large grin plastered on his face.

“I dream of life without a monarchy. The unrest in France will lead to anarchy, and I intend to aid American troops in their revolution to inspire my countrymen back home. We must overthrow these evil kings!”

Mulligan stood. “I’m joining the rebellion because it’s my chance to socially advance, instead of sewing damn pants! I’m gonna take my shot!”

Laurens stood, looking around at his friends. “But remember, fellas, we’ll never be truly free until those enslaved have the same rights as you and me.” Lin and the others nodded. “Wait ‘til I sally in on a stallion with the first black battalion.” Lafayette, Mulligan, and Lin applauded, the former two whooping and hollering as they sat and downed more beer.

Burr looked at the men nervously. “Geniuses, lower your voices. You keep out of trouble and you double your choices. I’m with you, but the situation is fraught. You’ve got to be carefully taught; if you talk, you’re gonna get shot!”

Lin chuckled. All was going according to script. “Burr, check what we got. If anyone wants to take us on, I’d like to see them try.” His comrades cheered.

“Another round of beers!” Laurens shouted. “Let’s take to the streets, men. We’ve got some revolutionaries to inspire.” His friends hollered and stood up, and the three of them plus Lin made their way out of the pub and into the night, Lin smiling to himself the whole way.

#my fics #hamilton #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #daveed diggs x reader #hamilton x reader #hamilton imagine #hamilton fic #hamilton smut #alexander hamilton x reader

54 notes · View notes

alexanderhamllton · 8 years ago

Text

Summer Rain [Okieriete Onaodowan x Reader]

Summary: what else are you supposed to do but run in the rain after finding out you’ve been in love with your best friend?

Word count: 2,334 (the longest one yet!)

Warnings: cursing, alcohol...

A/N: The fluffiest of fluffs for Oak, because he deserves it. Thanks to the hamwriters groupchat, I finally had inspiration to write for Oak and I’m pretty happy with the result. I hope y’all like it!

askbox | masterlist

You could give a million excuses to why you showed up on his doorstep like this, at that time. You could say the storm caught you by surprise, or maybe you were around and your umbrella broke and you remembered he lived close by.

Blatant lies to cover a moment of courage with no limitations.

It was 1 a.m. when you woke up that night, the storm making the New York you knew your whole life just a gray scenario outside your window. Your forehead covered in sweat, but a smile across your face.

You were in love with your best friend and the dream you had just proved everything you suspected for weeks.

six months earlier

“Guys, let’s welcome [Y/N], our new ensemble member!” Alex had his hand on your shoulder as you tried not to blush in front of the most talented group of people you ever faced. Everyone clapped and you heard a whistle coming from the lips of the one you recognized as Anthony Ramos.

As rehearsals began, you started to pick the steps and queues easier than you thought. Dance was on your blood, and the music playing wasn’t a bad motivation either. The dance moves for My Shot and Yorktown were the hardest, so you tried your best to go over and over whenever you had the time and space. Your favorite place was the empty stage, though. Both Lin and Tommy were okay with you taking the mornings to practice, since the technicians were the only ones in the theater by that time.

“Try not to push yourself too hard.” The comment almost made you trip during a spin. “Sorry if I distracted you.”

“It’s okay.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear before looking to where the voice came from. “What are you doing here this time in the morning, Oak?”

“I need new pants and they lost my measurements… Long and embarrassing story.”

“I’d love to hear that.” You replied, grabbing the face towel and the bottle of water from the floor, taking a long sip.

“Let’s just say Hercules Mulligan got too excited when jumping during Yorktown last night.” Your giggle brought a smile to his face as well.

“Don’t even get me started on Yorktown, this song is freaking me out.”

“You’re doing great! I mean the spin could use a little work…” You jokingly slapped him in the arm, making him laugh in the middle of the sentence. “I’m kidding, [Y/N]. It’s perfect. I have no idea why you practice so much, you’re one of the best ensemble members we had so far.”

“Because I practice so much.” You snapped back. “But I’m done for the morning, I think I’ll go shower.”

As you left the stage, Oak’s voice called your name, making you turn to him: “Wanna grab lunch later? This probably won’t take long so…” He said, pointing towards the costume room.

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You chuckled before heading to the ensemble dressing room. Needless to say you took the fastest shower in your life, as you were slightly anxious about going for lunch with Oak. Not that you guys didn’t have lunch before, but never just the two of you. You shook the thoughts away from your head as you dried yourself and changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

When you left the dressing room, Oak was waiting sitting on the stairs, almost blocking the passage.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He said, giving you passage before following you out of the theater.

four months earlier

The final bow of your first performance was something you’d never forget. As you received the applause with the cast, it was like you’d never feel more accomplished and proud of yourself than in that very moment. When everyone left the stage, hugs came from left and right: Jasmine, Carleigh, Anthony and Elizabeth being the closest to you, but Oak was the one that swept you off your feet.

No, literally, he lifted you up.

His hug could be described as a typical bear hug, as Oak embraced and twirled you around. You allowed yourself to laugh before kissing his cheek. You both got really close since he started giving you some tips on queues and ways to make your life easier around the show’s routine, and before you knew he’d hang out at your place to watch movies and tv shows, and you did the same at his place.

“You didn’t mess up!” He exclaimed, and you rolled your eyes at him even though you had a huge smile in your face. “We should celebrate!”

“We should indeed! Any suggestions?” You answered, walking towards the dressing rooms with Oak right behind you.

“It depends, you want to get hammered or something more chill?” He asked, leaning against the wall when you both arrived at your dressing room’s door.

“I vote for chill.” You said, entering the dressing room. “See you in 15?”

“Yep.”

You closed the door and faced Carleigh and Elizabeth already on their street clothes. Elizabeth was almost singing when she commented: “He’s so into you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Uhn… Oak? Who else would she be talking about? You guys are doing ‘something chill’ later, if that doesn’t mean sex I don’t know what it means.” Carleigh answered, shoving her stuff on the backpack and pausing just to gesture quotation marks around the term ‘something chill’.

“You are both insane. We are just friends, ever heard of that?” You took off your vest and shirt as you spoke, before getting rid of your boots and pants. “It’s not like you are not friends with him too.”

“Not as close as you are!” Elizabeth stressed while putting her hair in a ponytail. “[Y/N] and Oak, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s…”

You interrupted her by throwing a pillow that was close by at her face, making the three of you laugh. “Shut up! Things are not awkward and I don’t want your comments getting in my head.”

“Whatever you say, [Y/N], whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and finished getting ready to leave, meeting with Oak by the door of his dressing room so you would both go to your place together.

By now, he knew your place as well as you did. You made the popcorn as he decided for a movie on Netflix. When you returned to the living room with a bowl of buttered popcorn, he was going through the horror section of the catalog.

“No fucking way I’ll watch horror movies, Oak.”

“C’mon [Y/N], we always watch what you want.” He replied, giving you the puppy eyes that made you melt every time.

“And you’re never disappointed. Please, anything but horror movies.”

“Fine. But let’s do something fun then.” He said in a smirk.

“Elaborate.”

“A drinking game.” Oak answered simply, opening the small cabinet under the tv and grabbing a bottle of vodka. “We watch whatever crappy rom-com you want, but every time a cliche happens, we take a shot.”

“Deal.” You got up and went to the kitchen, coming back with two shot glasses.

The movie chosen was a Nicholas Sparks one, and you both took three shots in the first thirty minutes of the movie, later on arguing if a montage of the main couple is considered a romantic cliche or a movie cliche in general. You both agreed it was valid taking a shot either way.

When the movie ended, you were both really drunk, laughing at each others faces for no apparent reason. You lost count at the tenth shot, and Oak was way stronger than you, not only when it came of drinking.

“You can’t go home like this, Oak.” You said once you both started to organize everything and he fell on his ass, making you burst out laughing.

“It’s only a few blocks away from here!”

“You just tripped and fell on your ass, Okieriete.”

“Okay, okay, right. Can I crash on your couch?”

“Sure, but I do have a queen-size bed, you know?”

“Are you inviting me to sleep with you, [Y/N]?” He joked, wiggling his eyebrow at you.

“Why are you like this?” You mumbled, trying to hide the smile on your face. “I’m saying as a friend, this couch is garbage.”

“It is.” He agreed.

“Hey! Only I can trash-talk my apartment, okay?” You objected, taking the glasses and the now empty bowl to the kitchen. “Now let’s go to sleep, we have a show to do tomorrow and a hangover is the last thing I need.”

Oak giggled and you heard the steps of him going to your bedroom, action that you mimicked shortly after.

“Move over, you're on my side.” You whispered to sleepy Oak, already under the covers. He rolled over to the other side and you lied down beside him.

The last thing you remembered from that night was the feeling of Oak instinctly placing his arm around your waist.

one day earlier

“Will this rain ever stop?” You arrived at the Richard Rodgers theater already complaining, your mood mirroring the crappy weather outside.

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Jasmine answered, her face almost covered by the huge mug she was holding. “Tea?”

“Hi. And no, thanks. I need some really strong coffee.”

“Try Lin’s dressing room, that one always has the best coffee maker.” Jasmine replied, before heading back to whatever she was up to. You, however, went straight to the male dressing rooms after the smell of black coffee.

Lin’s door was half-open, allowing you to hear the conversation happening inside. You weren’t the curious kinds, but Oak’s voice made you stop to listen.

“I’m telling you, she’s the best. And so hot too.” His voice sounded excited, but the reaction you had to them was the opposite. You didn’t know if it was because he didn’t tell you anything about this girl, or maybe it was you protective side taking over your emotions.

Or something else.

Either way, you tried not to think about it, limiting yourself to shut down the tears that wanted to make its way out and knocking on the dressing room door. The conversation stopped and Lin’s voice answered: “Come in.”

“Hi. I heard you’re the best coffee dealer in the place, I didn’t have time to pass by Starbucks today so…”

“I got you. You have a mug?” Lin answered, and you handed the empty mug to him.

“Starbucks got nothing on Lin’s Puerto Rican coffee, trust me.” Oak commented, and you weren’t able to reply with more than a small smile. There was no way of knowing if he picked up on your mood, but if he did, he didn’t say a thing.

You thanked Lin for the coffee when he handed you a mug full of the black Puerto Rican liquid and headed back to your dressing room, where the girls were already getting mic’ed.

“Why the long face?” Elizabeth asked as she held her own hair for the technician to place her microphone.

“Nothing, just tired. I’ll be good after the coffee.”

You weren’t.

The show felt longer than normal. The two and a half hours felt like five and the dance moves felt harder on your muscles than ever, your body complaining silently as you did your best to not mess anything up. When the show ended, you changed as fast as possible, heading home without saying good night to everyone like it was the usual. You noticed you forgot your umbrella inside when you felt the raindrops against your skin, but there was no way you were going back inside.

When you arrived at you place, soaking wet, your apartment felt cold as you were, and the hot shower that was much-needed didn’t have the effect you hoped for. Neither the blanket or the romantic comedy, both of those things reminding you of the late nights you spent with Oak. You turned everything off and headed to your bedroom, hoping a night of sleep would solve whatever you were feeling.

You woke up to a word: Betrayed.

That word echoed through your thoughts, because that’s how you felt when you pictured Oak with anyone else but you. Your ming created almost one of the cliche montages you and Oak argued over months before, and you laughed through the tears you allowed to run on your face as you woke up. You were in love with him. You were in love with Oak.

It took a slip second for you to get up, changing your sweatpants to jeans and putting a hoodie over the pajama top you were wearing. There was no time for second-guessing, you thought as you laced up your sneakers.

When you locked your apartment door, ran down the stairs and faced the storm, you decided to run as fast as possible, only slowing down when you saw Oak’s building. When you pressed the button to his apartment in the intercom, you allowed yourself to breathe. “It’s me.”

The intercom buzzed and you got in, walking straight to his door. He was sleepy and shirtless, but the confused look on his face was more noticeable than the rest. “[Y/N], what are you…”

“I love you.” You said, without thinking twice. ”I don’t know who’s the girl you were talking about with Lin, but she can’t be that special because every moment you could possibly have with her you were with me and I know we’re best friends, but-”

Your bablling got interrupted by his kiss, sweet and hungry at the same time. You melted in his embrace, your hands against his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

“But what about-”

“It was you.” He said, laughing. “I was talking about you?”

“For real?” You giggled, feeling your cheeks turning red. “You mean I walked on the rain for nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say it was nothing.” He whispered, his forehead against yours. “By the way, I love you too.”

#Okieriete Onaodowan #okieriete onaodowan x reader #hamilton x reader #hamilcast x reder #oak x reader #okieriete onaodowan imagine #oak imagine #hamilton imagine #hamilcast imagine #my writing

327 notes · View notes

jkrockin · 8 years ago

Photo

#what IS this #a brooding and image-conscious vampire #who spends every night performing monologues in small drafty theaters #loves to stagedoor but only after midnight #has a growing and devoted following #occasionally interrupts his musings on the ravages of time with improv theater #likes to encourage audience participation #sleeps in the wings of the theater in a prop coffin #must always be backlit by softly glowing lamps #they light up when he enters the room and dim when he leaves and no one knows why #sings jaunty 18th cent ballads #eyes always too full or too empty #LIN MIRANDA THEATER VAMPIRE #erotic scenarios #I spelt theater the american way throughout this tag spiral because I Commit #seduces a young anthony ramos for SURE

The Hollywood Reporter 20 February 2017

#I love whatever this is #lin-manuel miranda #theatre vampire

309 notes · View notes

newyorktheater · 4 years ago

Text

Hamilton Off-Broadway in February, 2015 with original cast memberstop left to right: Phillipa Too as Eliza Hamilton, Leslie Odom Jr. as Aaron Burr,Bottom left to right: Okieriete Onaodowan , Lin-Manuel Miranda, Daveed Diggs, Anthony Ramos. See July 3

Les Blancs by Lorraine Hansberry. See July 2

Amadeus, see July 16

We Are Freestyle Love Supreme, see July 17

Carousel. See July 10

Heroes of the Fourth Turning . See July 18

Below is the day-by-day calendar of “theater openings”* in July, 2020. The big news is the release of “Hamilton” online at Disney Plus — and (less hyped) the “Freestyle Love Supreme” documentary on Hulu — but in truth Lin-Manuel Miranda’s shows are not all that’s exciting this month in the world of online theater — a world in which “online” and “theater” have been synonymous since physical theaters were shut down in March (though there are small signs this may be changing; see July 13). And most of the other shows don’t require subscriptions.

Among the scheduled delights are acclaimed plays by Pulitzer finalist Will Arbery (July 18) and MacArthur “genius” grant winner Samuel D. Hunter (July 11), as well as a new Richard Nelson Apple Family play (July 1) and a new documentary play about frontline medical workers by Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen, creators of The Exonerated and Coal Country (July 8.) There a couple of inventive substitutions for the usual summer theater festivals.

Since so many shows are being put together at the last minute — sometimes not announced until the very day of their launch .. and there also have been fairly frequent last-minute postponements/cancellations/replacements — I will be updating/filling in this preview guide every day, and highlighting the offerings each new day with the link up top. This calendar as of this moment offers a glimpse of what’s in store. Come back day by day for a better look.

Here are some ongoing series that have proven to be reliable sources of art and entertainment.

Four offer live performances (often called readings) of original plays: The Homebound Project Livelabs: One Acts from MCC Play-PerView Viral Monologues from 24 Hour Plays

Play-PerView makes an exception this month to its original plays with what counts as a coup — the live reading of the Pulitzer finalist play “Heroes of the Fourth Turning” (which was supposed to debut last month but was postponed, as were a good number of productions due to the Black Lives Matter protests.)

A fifth offers live readings of classics and recent favorites: Plays in the House, Stars in the House’s twice weekly matinees and now Plays in the House Teen Edition.

Three offer recordings of previous (glorious) stage productions.

Metropolitan Opera National Theatre at Home The Shows Must Go On from Andrew Lloyd Webber

For details about these and other ongoing series, check out my post Where To Get Your Theater Fix Online (which lists, for example, the many long-running online sites such as BroadwayHD and Marquee TV that offer video-capture recordings of shows that were on stage)

All performances are free unless otherwise noted, although almost all hope for a donation (either to themselves or to a designated charity.)

*My definition of theater for the purposes of this calendar generally does not extend to variety shows, cast reunions, galas, panel discussions, documentaries, classes, interviews — all of which are in abundance this month, many worth checking out. My focus here is on creative storytelling in performance. (I make an occasional exception for a high-profile Netathon,involving many theater artists.)

A reminder that this calendar lists when the shows “open.” Some are live and available only for that one performance. Others are available for a week or weeks afterward or longer.

July 1

Die Mommie Die Plays in the House Launches at 2 p.m. Available for four days. In this latest of Stars in the House’s Wednesday matinees, Charles Busch is joined by BD Wong, Willie Garson, Brandon Contreras, Jennifer Cody and Ruth Williamson in this reading of his campy 1999 melodrama Die, Mommie, Die!, a mix of Aeschylus and Bette Davis.Directed and narrated by Carl Andress.

The Book of Job Project Theater of War Launches at 4 p.m. live only The latest from Bryan Doerries terrific community-oriented theater using classic texts (best-known for Antigone in Ferguson), is a dramatic reading of The Book of Job as a catalyst for discussion about injustice during the COVID-19 pandemic. Featuring performances by Jeffrey Wright, Frankie Faison, Kimberly Hebert, David Strathairn, David Zayas, and Public Advocate Jumaane Williams.

And So We Come Forth Apple Family Productions Launches at 7:30 pm. Available for 8 weeks The Apple Family, a dramatic series of plays which first appeared 10 years ago, returned last April with the premiere of a play written especially for Zoom, What Do We Need to Talk About? Now this second Zoom play, And So We Come Forth is set in early July 2020, amidst massive protests against injustice and racism in our country, as well as the anxious easing of a worldwide lockdown.

Richard II, part 1 Shakespeare@ Home

Shostakovich’s The Nose Metropolitan Opera Launches at 7:30 p.m., available for 23 hours It all begins with an absurd scenario: A hapless Russian bureaucrat wakes up one morning to discover that his nose has gone missing. He eventually locates his fugitive facial feature, which has been masquerading as a human being, but has no luck reattaching it. Based on a satirical short story by Nikolai Gogol

Mary’s Mixology The Tank Launches at 8 p.m. Kev Berry’s monologue about his first year on the wagon. “What does it mean for a gay man to give up liquid courage?”

Borders Queerly Festival Launches at 8:30 p.m. live Boaz and George meet on Grindr. They are attracted to one another instantly and want to meet in person, but something prevents them from doing so. One lives in Israel, the other- in Lebanon. Also Friday at 3 p.m. The festival also offers three short plays tonight starting at 7 p.m.: Before We Can Make a Final Decision, Backup Plan, and an excerpt from “I Tried” by Veronica Garza, “my one woman show that I’ve been working on about the men I slept with in my struggles to be straight”

July 2

Les Blancs National Theater Launches 2 p.m. Available until July 9 In this final play by Lorraine Hansberry (A Raisin in the Sun), in a production directed by Yael Farber in 2016, a society prepares to drive out its colonial present and claim an independent future. Tshembe, returned home from England for his father’s funeral, finds himself in the eye of the storm.

Hypochondriac! Theater in Quarantine Launches at 7 p.m. and 9 p.m. The first installment of a new adaptation of Molière’s The Imaginary Invalid by David McGee and Joshua William Gelb.Featuring Gelb, Jessie Shelton, and Alex Hawthorne

Bizet’s Carmen Metropolitan Opera Launches at 7:30 p.m., available for 23 hours The tale of the irresistible and free-spirited Gypsy, whose fatal attraction with the jealous soldier Don José burns too hot for them to control.

July 3

youtube

Hamilton Disney Plus Available from this date on. A live-capture of the stage production with the original Broadway cast, which was shot over three days in June 2016. A Disney Plus subscription is required. One way to look at this is that it costs $6.99 to see “Hamilton” and you get a month to watch everything else on the service (which includes titles familiar to theatergoers though not the same versions — Frozen, The Lion King, Aladdin.) Here is my video review of “Hamilton” in 2015:

youtube

Here is my review of Hamilton on Broadway in 2019

Mozart’s Don Giovanni Metropolitan Opera Launches at 7:30 p.m., available for 23 hours Mozart’s 1747 melodic version of the Don Juan myth, with two baritones starring alongside one another as the title Lothario and his faithful yet conflicted servant, Leporello, as well as three memorable female roles—multifaceted women who both suffer the Don’s abuses and plot their revenge.

July 4

Donizetti’s Don Pasquale Metropolitan Opera Launches at 7:30 p.m., available for 23 hours Beverly Sills stars in her final performance as a clever young widow, who goes up against a crusty old bachelor, no match for her wiles.

A Capitol Fourth PBS 8 – 9:30 p.m. The annual July 4 celebration will feature new performances from locations across the country, as well as highlights from the concert’s 40-year history. Among the performers are theater artists Brian Stokes Mitchell, Kelli O’Hara, Mandy Gonzalez and Renée Fleming

July 5

Rossini’s La Donna del Lago Metropolitan Opera Launches at 7:30 p.m. available for 23 hours The retelling of Sir Walter Scott’s shadowy epic of clan warfare in 16th-century Scotland, which is at heart a classic love triangle.

July 6

Summer Stock Streaming Festival Mint Theater Available through July 19 Archival recordings of three old and forgotten plays that the Mint resurrected (which is what they do; I saw two of these on stage and found them fascinating.) “The Fatal Weakness” written in 1946 by George Kelly: Society woman Ollie Espenshade, after 28 years of marriage is still an incurable romantic (her fatal weakness). Perhaps discovering that her husband is a lying cheat will cure her?

“The New Morality” written in 1911 by Harold Chapin who died at age 29 in World War I: A comedy set aboard a houseboat on a fashionable reach of the Thames in 1911, in which brazen Betty Jones restores dignity to her household and harmony to her marriage.

“Women Without Men,” written in 1938 by Hazel Ellis: An all-female cast tells this humor-laced tale set in the teacher’s lounge of a private girls boarding school in Ireland in the 1930’s, where young new teacher Jean Wade, popular with her students but at odds with her quarrelsome colleagues, is accused of sabotaging her main antagonist.

July 8

Unveiled Premiere Stages at Keane Separate live showings at 3 p.m. and 7 p.m. Tickets $10 Rohina Malik plays five Muslim women navigating complex social issues in a post 9/11 world. Following the screening, Ms. Malik will host a live Q & A with all ticket holders.

The Line Public Theater Launches at 7:30 p.m. Available until August 4. This new documentary play by Jessica Blank & Erik Jensen (The Exonerated, Coal Country) presents the experiences of frontline medical workers in New York and their battle to save lives in a system built to serve the bottom line. The cast includes Santino Fontana, Arjun Gupta, John Ortiz, Alison Pill ,Nicholas Pinnock , Jamey Sheridan and Lorraine Toussaint

July 9

The Deep Blue Sea National Theatre Launches at 2 p.m. available until July 16 In this play by Terence Rattigan, Hester Collyer (Helen McCrory) is found by her neighbours in the aftermath of a failed suicide attempt, which leads to the story of her tempestuous affair with a former RAF pilot and the breakdown of her marriage to a High Court judge.

July 10

Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel Lincoln Center Launches at 8 p.m. The latest of Lincoln Center’s Broadway Fridays (rescheduled from June 5) features a free digital stream of its concert production of this Rodgers and Hammerstein musical featuring the New York Philharmonic and starring Kelli O’Hara, Nathan Gunn, Stephanie Blythe, Shuler Hensley, Jason Danieley,Jessie Mueller, Kate Burton, Tony winner John Cullum, and New York City Ballet dancers Robert Fairchild and Tiler Peck.

Freedom Riders An online reading of Richard Allen and Taran Gray’s award-winning Freedom Riders: The Civil Rights Musical

July 11

The Few Play-PerView Written and directed by Samuel D. Hunter, featuring Gideon Glick: Four years ago, Bryan abandoned his labor of love: a newspaper for truckers. Now he’s returned—with no word of where he’s been—and things have changed. His former lover is filled with rage, his new coworker is filled with incessant adoration, and his paper is filled with personal ads.

July 12

Hershey Felder: Beethoven Based on Memories of Beethoven: Out of the House of Black-Robed Spaniards, a first-hand account by Dr. Gerhard von Breuning.

July 13

Plays about memory loss Food for Thought Productions 1:30 p.m. — 3:30 Louise Lasser and Bob Dishey star in this in-person event of three short plays (Arthur Miller’s “I Can’t Remember Anything,” Robert Anderson’s “I’m Herbert” and Daniel Rose’s “Adolf Eichmann in Jerusalem”) held at The Coffee House Club, 22 West 44th Street, available first come, first served by calling 646-366-9340 or emailing info@foodforthoughtproductions. However, “if you’d rather watch from home, you can request the Zoom link.” staged reading of short plays about memory loss starring Tony nominee Bob Dishy and Louise Lasse

Richard II, part 1 Public Theater/WNYC 8 p.m. Saheem Ali directs this radio adaptation of Richard II, the Bard’s take on how the title monarch lost his crown. André Holland (Moonlight) stars, and the supporting cast includes Oscar winner Estelle Parsons, Tony winner Phylicia Rashad and Tony nominee John Douglas Thompson. The production will be broadcast in four installments from Monday, July 13 through Thursday, July 16 at 8 p.m. ET nightly on WNYC. Listeners in the New York tri-state area can tune in at 93.9 FM or AM 820. It will also stream nationwide at WNYC.org.

July 14

Richard II, part 2 Public Theater/WNYC 8 p.m. Saheem Ali directs this radio adaptation of Richard II, the Bard’s take on how the title monarch lost his crown

July 15

The Homebound Project Available through July 19 The fourth edition

The Droll Bard of the Gate Launches at 7 p.m Meg Miroshnik’s play is the second offering in Paula Vogel’s play series,

Richard II, part 3 Public Theater/WNYC 8 p.m. Saheem Ali directs this radio adaptation of Richard II, the Bard’s take on how the title monarch lost his crown. licia Rashad as the Duchess of Gloucester.

July 16

Amadeus National Theatre Launches 2 p.m. Available until July 23 Lucian Msamati portrays the envious court composer Antonio Salieri who is envious of the obnoxious genius Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart In this popular play by Peter Shaffer that was turned into an Oscar-winning film.

Richard II, part 4 Public Theater/WNYC 8 p.m. Saheem Ali directs this radio adaptation of Richard II, the Bard’s take on how the title monarch lost his crown.

July 17

“We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” Hulu A documentary about the improv theater company co-founded by Lin-Manuel Miranda.

Virtual Fire Island Dance Festival he first-ever stream in the event’s 26-year history will feature world premieres of three new pieces and three beloved festival favorites.

July 18

Heroes of the Fourth Turning Play PerView Will Arbery’s 2020 Pulitzer Prize finalist will now take place July 18 at 8 PM ET on Play-PerView after postponing the June 13 reading in solidarity with Black Lives Matter

July 20

Project Sing Out! Playbill Launches at 7 p.m. A one-night-only livestreamed event featuring musical performances, spoken word and special appearances from a variety of Broadway and TV’s biggest names, including Audra McDonald, Chirta Rivera, Don Cheadle, Vanessa Willams.

July 21

Coriolanus Bedlam

July 25

Knife to the Heart Play-PerView In this play by Stan Zimmerman and Christian McLaughlin, ulie Ann and Marshall are expecting their first baby—with Marshall’s mother Rhonda hovering over them and Julie Ann’s fellow teacher Deacon providing moral support. Everything’s going smoothly until Julie Ann accidentally learns just what exactly the bris Rhonda’s planning involves, and all good will and politeness dissolve.

July 2020 Online Theater Openings: Hamilton, PLUS. What’s streaming day by day Below is the day-by-day calendar of “theater openings”* in July, 2020. The big news is the release of "Hamilton" online at Disney Plus -- and (less hyped) the "Freestyle Love Supreme" documentary on Hulu -- but in truth Lin-Manuel Miranda's shows are not all that's exciting this month in the world of online theater -- a world in which "online" and "theater" have been synonymous since physical theaters were shut down in March (though there are small signs this may be changing; see July 13).

0 notes

woundepoxy53-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Offseason Outlook: Chicago Cubs

As always, MLBTR is publishing Offseason Outlooks for all 30 teams. This is the first post in the series.

For the first time in franchise history, the Cubs reached the playoffs in four consecutive years. However, a loss to the Rockies in the Wild Card game left a bitter taste in the Cubs’ mouths and the front office must make significant additions to the offense and bullpen.

Guaranteed Contracts

Jason Heyward, OF: $106MM through 2023 (may opt out of contract)

Jon Lester, SP: $47.5MM through 2020. Includes mutual/vesting option for 2021.

Yu Darvish, SP: $101MM through 2023

Ben Zobrist, INF/OF: $12MM through 2019

Tyler Chatwood, SP/RP: $25.5MM through 2020

Brandon Morrow,RP: $12MM through 2019. Includes vesting option for 2020.

Anthony Rizzo, 1B: $13MM through 2019. Includes club options for 2020 and ’21.

Steve Cishek, RP: $7.5MM through 2019

Brian Duensing, RP: $3.5MM through 2019

Drew Smyly, SP: $7MM through 2019

Arbitration-Eligible Players (projections via MLBTR contributor Matt Swartz)

Contract Options

Free Agents

[Chicago Cubs Depth Chart; Chicago Cubs Payroll Overview]

“Our offense broke somewhere along the lines,” stated Cubs president Theo Epstein the day after his team was bounced from the playoffs following a five-hour slog against the Rockies. The Cubs didn’t even expect to be in that Wild Card game, but they lost a tiebreaker game to a surging Brewers club. Before we attempt to guess at how Epstein might go about fixing the offense, let’s take a look at which players are locked in.

Willson Contreras will continue to handle primary catching duties. Contreras, 27 in May, had an argument to be considered the best-hitting catcher in baseball over the period stretching from his June 2016 debut until this year’s trade deadline. Then, from August 2nd onward, he hit .169/.263/.232 with one home run in 160 plate appearances. He went from regularly serving as the Cubs’ #4 or 5 hitter to hitting seventh or eighth most days. Contreras’ collapse is one damning data point for now-former Cubs hitting coach Chili Davis. Getting Contreras back to his established 120 wRC+ level would be a big boost to the 2019 offense. Contreras caught a career-high 1109 2/3 innings in 2018 and would likely benefit from a quality veteran backup. After a strong season in which he made 83 starts for the Braves, free agent Kurt Suzuki might not accept a diminished role, but he’s the type of player the Cubs should target.

The team’s other big in-house offensive project is getting Kris Bryant right. Bryant, 27 in January, had his first real setback as a pro player this year but still managed a 125 wRC+. That’s disappointing only because he’d set his level at 144 over his first three Major League seasons, winning the NL MVP in 2016. Bryant injured his left shoulder on a headfirst slide in late May and was never the same since. He was limited to just 102 games this year. Fortunately, Epstein does not expect surgery for Bryant, and in fact expects a “monster” 2019 out of him. Given Bryant’s stature and potential, I wonder if manager Joe Maddon would be better served locking him in at third base, rather than sprinkling in time at the outfield corners as he has done to date. Healthy, bounceback seasons from Bryant and Contreras are crucial to the Cubs’ 2019 offense.

Anthony Rizzo is the Cubs’ rock at first base and remains among the best hitters in the game at his position. Ben Zobrist bounced back to show he’s actually not done as a hitter at age 37, and he’s an option for slightly less than full-time duty at some combination of second base and the outfield corners again. Javier Baez catapulted himself into the NL MVP discussion with a five-win age-25 season. Baez fits well at any infield position. He maxed out his offensive abilities in 2018 by mashing 83 extra-base hits, making up for his perennially low walk rate. The Cubs are also locked into near-regular playing time for Jason Heyward, because of his strong outfield defense as well as the large amount of money left on his contract. Heyward continued to improve as a hitter in his third year as a Cub, but that still resulted in a low-power league average batting line. The positional flexibility of Heyward, Baez, Zobrist, and others will allow the Cubs to explore both of the major prizes of the 2018-19 free agent market.

Those prizes, of course, are superstars Bryce Harper and Manny Machado. Both free agents project to top the current largest contract in baseball history, Giancarlo Stanton’s $325MM deal. MLBTR expects each player to reach $400MM, with an average annual value in the range of $30MM. Can the Cubs afford to add the largest contract in baseball history to their ledger? With a new TV deal on the horizon after 2019, the answer appears to be yes. Given arbitration raises, the Cubs will come in around last year’s Opening Day payroll before any new players are added, so I do expect the club to jump past $200MM for the first time. The Cubs successfully reset with a payroll under the Competitive Balance Tax threshold in 2018, reducing the tax penalty for ’19 if they exceed the new $206MM threshold. Last March, I debated the true necessity of teams like the Cubs, Dodgers, and Yankees to reset, but all three have done it and enter the 2018-19 offseason ready to spend.

Epstein has gone big game hunting many times for both the Cubs and Red Sox, and figures to be firmly in the mix for Harper or Machado. Which player is the better fit? My vote is for Harper, who has a higher offensive ceiling than Machado and as a left-handed batter breaks up the Cubs’ core of right-handed hitters (Bryant, Baez, and Contreras). Cubs fans can salivate at the prospect of a Murderer’s Row of Bryant, Harper, Baez, Rizzo, and Contreras. Harper would take over as the team’s regular right fielder, pushing Heyward to center and possibly a young outfielder off the roster, which we’ll discuss later.

The possibility the Cubs prefer Machado should not be discounted. Fans can also dream on a Machado-Baez middle infield combination, although Baez may actually be the superior shortstop. Signing Machado seems to create an inefficiency – pushing Baez back to second, or pushing Bryant to left field. That is, unless Machado is willing to sign under the same conditions most current Cubs position players have, where all but Rizzo, Contreras, and Albert Almora bounce around to multiple positions. I think the Cubs are better-served with Harper in right field and a Heyward-Almora platoon in center.

Almora might be wasted on the short side of a platoon, however, and the Cubs will likely consider trading him under certain scenarios. Likewise, Kyle Schwarber and Ian Happ face the possibility of a trade, particularly if the Cubs acquire a starting outfielder. Schwarber, 26 in March, quieted the talk of his left field defense as a liability. However, he proved powerless against left-handed pitching and was limited to seeing southpaws only 18% of the time under Maddon. There could be another gear for Schwarber if he starts hitting lefties, but as always, Maddon is reluctant to give him that full opportunity on a contending club.

Happ, a 24-year-old switch-hitter, played all three outfield positions and third base this year. Strikeouts were up and power was down in his sophomore season, and he too was unable to hit lefties. Though he’s technically more versatile than Schwarber, Happ seems position-less. He spent more time in center field than any other position (403 2/3 innings) despite being the team’s third-best center fielder. The Cubs limited his time in the infield this year. Schwarber is arbitration eligible for the first time this winter and is controlled for three more seasons; Happ remains near the league minimum and is controlled for five more seasons. It’s simpler retaining Schwarber: keep him in left field, try to unlock his power against left-handed pitching, and he might yet become a middle of the order hitter. Trading Happ is risky, though, given the five remaining years of team control.

Harper and Machado are certainly not the Cubs’ only options for outside additions. They’re just the best ones. Free agent bats like Nelson Cruz, Andrew McCutchen, A.J. Pollock, Michael Brantley, Jed Lowrie, Wilson Ramos, and Yasmani Grandal don’t clearly make the Cubs better or fit onto their roster. The trade market doesn’t appear to boast a superstar, either, unless you think the Cubs could pry Nolan Arenado loose from the Rockies for his final year before free agency.

Cubs shortstop Addison Russell received a 40-game suspension for violating MLB’s domestic violence policy based on claims from his ex-wife, and he will be ineligible to play until May 3rd next year. Asked if Russell will return to the Cubs next year, Epstein replied, “I don’t know. With all of our words and actions going forward, whether we know it or not, we’re sending messages to our fans.” The Cubs don’t have the moral high ground when it comes to domestic violence, having traded for Aroldis Chapman in 2016 about ten months after that pitcher’s incident. In this case, which unlike that one is post-“Me Too,” the PR move probably coincides with the baseball move, and most expect the Cubs to let Russell go. We’ll likely learn next month whether Russell is too toxic to trade to another team, but I would guess not.

Moving on, let’s discuss the Cubs’ starting rotation. Lester, Hendricks, and Quintana are locked in. Yu Darvish’s first year was a disaster, with the pitcher making only eight MLB starts due to a parainfluenza virus, triceps tendinitis/inflammation, a shoulder impingement, and a stress reaction in his elbow. He had seemingly minor elbow surgery in September and is expected to be ready for Spring Training. Given his salary and past success, Darvish will have a spot in the Cubs’ rotation whenever he’s ready. The Cubs also have Drew Smyly under contract. Smyly, a 29-year-old southpaw, underwent Tommy John surgery in July 2017 and signed a two-year deal with the Cubs last December. He’ll be 18 months removed from the procedure when pitchers and catchers report in February and could be an asset given his past success with the Tigers and Rays.

While the Cubs will be cautiously optimistic on Darvish and Smyly for 2019, there is no such optimism for Tyler Chatwood. The Cubs gave Chatwood a three-year, $38MM deal last December based mostly on upside, and the righty’s already-poor control became the worst in baseball in 2018. In fact, Chatwood’s 19.6% walk rate was the fifth-worst in baseball history for pitchers with at least 100 innings. The Cubs’ 2018 season served as a reminder how much every win counts, and I can’t see how Chatwood would have a role on the 2019 Cubs. Russell Martin could make for an excellent bad contract swap from the Cubs’ side, though not so much from Toronto’s. Alex Gordon, Zack Cozart, Homer Bailey, and Martin Prado could be other potential targets in my estimation.

Though the Cubs also have Mike Montgomery as a back-end rotation depth option, there’s more than enough uncertainty to justify picking up Cole Hamels’ $20MM option. Hamels, 35 in December, was excellent in a dozen starts for the Cubs after a July trade from Texas. The Cubs could also attempt to negotiate a two-year deal with Hamels at a lower average annual value.

Aside from the offense, the Cubs’ other big problem is a lack of bullpen depth. In a world where teams are giving half their innings to relievers in the playoffs, the Cubs would have had a difficult time making a sustained postseason run even if they had beaten the Rockies. Brandon Morrow’s season ended on July 15th due to biceps inflammation, even though the injury was initially thought to be on the minor side. Given the 34-year-old’s extensive injury history, this couldn’t have been a shock for the Cubs. Morrow was excellent when he was healthy, and he’ll be delicately deployed in the late innings in 2019. The Cubs have Steve Cishek under contract and will pick up their option on Pedro Strop, making for a decent right-handed trio. Beyond that, I expect multiple external additions and a good amount of turnover. The Cubs do control Montgomery, Carl Edwards Jr., and Randy Rosario. They have Duensing under contract after a terrible year, and should expect Brandon Kintzler to pick up his $5MM player option after his rough stint on the North Side.

Edwards is a tantalizing, frustrating talent, and the Cubs have to wonder whether he’ll ever be a reliable late inning option for them. From the left side, the Cubs can do better than Montgomery, Rosario, and Duensing. The club will have to be prepared to release Duensing and/or Kintzler if those veterans fail to impress in Spring Training. Bottom line: it’s time to turn over at least half the bullpen. I don’t expect the Cubs to make a run at Craig Kimbrel, but the free agent market still offers a long list of options, including Adam Ottavino, Jeurys Familia, David Robertson, Andrew Miller, Joakim Soria, Cody Allen, Zach Britton, and a pair of rehabbing former closers (Kelvin Herrera & Trevor Rosenthal). One veteran worth retaining is Jesse Chavez, who ascended to the top of the Cubs’ decimated bullpen by year’s end and reportedly wants to return.

The Cubs also have a bit of managerial drama, with Joe Maddon entering lame duck status in 2019. Epstein said all the right things about Maddon after the season, but there’s still a feeling that Maddon’s tenure in Chicago is nearing an end. My guess is that short of a 2019 World Championship, Maddon departs after the season.

Though most MLBTR readers graded the Cubs’ 2017-18 offseason an A or a B at the time, the first year results of those deals were quite poor. The stakes might be higher this time around. Now that expectations are sky-high, this year’s early playoff exit must be considered a disappointment. The money involved could be bigger than ever and Epstein will be making decisions that have a large impact on whether his team can pull off another World Championship inside the three years of control remaining for Bryant, Rizzo, and Baez.

Source: https://www.mlbtraderumors.com/2018/10/offseason-outlook-chicago-cubs-9.html

0 notes

astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

put a ring on it 04 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9k flat

warnings: jealousy, copious amounts of relatives, like half of the family r little shits, a lil bit of angst — forgive me for this being unedited! i’ll come back to edit in a bit, but i promised the post, so here it is :)

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007 @nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy - lmk if you want to be added; sorry if i missed anyone!!

"You almost ready?"

You glanced up to meet Philip's eyes in his bathroom mirror as you struggled to clasp your necklace. He wore a small smile, fiddling with the sleeves of his button-down.

"Yeah, yeah, just gimme another minute." Your lips were pursed when you broke his gaze, leaning in toward your reflection as you twisted the necklace around your neck to get a better look at the ring on one of its ends, but to little avail. Your hands were shaking; the tension in your jaw was steadily increasing. Your mind had been elsewhere all morning.

You let out a grunt of frustration when you just missed the hook — it was too small for you to see it between your fingers. Though your focus was elsewhere, Philip raised his eyebrows when he saw you glaring down at the delicate chain.

"Let me." Your skin jumped when his fingers grazed the back of your neck, and when you met his amused gaze, your eyes were wide.

You let your hands fall away as he covered them with his own, taking ahold of the back of your necklace and brushing your hair over out of his way. "... Thanks."

"No problem, princess." You let out a quiet huff, rolling your eyes at his words, and his soft expression split into a grin. "Seriously? You're still resisting that?"

"Whatever," you mumbled, and though your eyes had drifted to the counter before you, you could still feel his hands go still against your skin. When he caught your eye, he creased his brow.

"You okay?" Your eyebrows shot up; you'd mistaken the tenativity in his expression for skepticism, but his soft tone told you that it was entirely born of concern. "You've been caught up in your head ever since we got out of bed."

You didn't let your surprise at how suddenly perceptive he'd become break your stride for more than a moment; you hoped it wasn't obvious that your gaze had gone soft. "I'm fine, Philip. Just tired," you said.

"Hey, no you're not." He didn't move from where he stood. You could feel his breath against the back of your neck. He still hadn't finished clasping your necklace, but his calloused fingertips rested against your shoulders, atop the straps of your sundress; you could feel the warmth of his body just inches behind you, could smell his faint cologne. You swallowed. "What's on your mind?"

Glancing back at him gave you pause, but when he pressed his lips together, expression inquisitive, you gave him a small smile. "Nothing, really. I'm okay." The silence that stretched on only made you feel more on edge, and you raised your eyebrows, adding, "Now, are you helping me with my necklace or not? C'mon."

"Talk to me first."

"This is blackmail!"

"It's a necklace, Y/N," he said, giving you a pointed look, and you scoffed, turning back toward the mirror. "But seriously, what's got you all stressed?"

A beat passed. "You're really gonna press the point?"

"Come on," he pouted, and you had to purse your lips to keep your smile from widening with amusement. "If it's super personal, I'll let it go, but I'm just concerned about you. What's wrong with that?"

"You don't need to worry," you assured him, but he looked less than convinced. "Really. It's silly."

His scowl was far from genuine as he finally finished putting your necklace on, and you shivered at the feeling of his hands in your hair when he pulled a few pieces of it out from under the thin chain. "If it doesn't matter, why are you being so evasive?"

"You're so nosy!" His hands still rested on your skin when you looked back up at his reflection, and despite your indignation, some part of you couldn't help but savor how much he genuinely seemed to care. You huffed when he gave an uncompromising shrug, still staring back at you expectantly. "God. Alright, fine. I'm... kinda nervous to meet your family."

His surprise was obvious; his eyebrows shot up, and for just a moment, he didn't speak. "Wait, seriously?" However, as you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, you didn't waste much time before busying yourself in packing back up your makeup bag. He was quick to take your lack of a response as the clear affirmation it was. "That's adorable."

"I don't wanna hear it," you said, but as his hands fell from your shoulders, they landed on either side of you on the bathroom counter. Though you tried to sidestep his grip, it was your resistance that made him stop you where you stood, effectively caging you in. You turned to him, ready to shove him away by the chest, but your breath caught when his hands met your waist.

"But princess, that's so sweet." He wore a mocking pout, and you rolled your eyes, turning your head away from him. You folded your arms in front of you despite (or because of) the immediate proximity to him in which you found yourself. "Why are you worried? What, do you think they're going to disapprove of our relationship?" he teased.

"I just really like your family so far, alright?" you murmured, determined to ignore your burning skin — whether it was burning due to your embarrassment or the fact that you were but a thin scrap of fabric away from being pulled flush against his chest, you weren't sure. In all honesty, it was probably somewhere between the two. "I don't want them to turn on me because you have some bitter aunt who doesn't vibe with me."

He laughed, and you could feel the sound against your body. "That won't happen. They'll think you're great, okay? Relax."

You scoffed when he reached up to brush a piece of hair from your forehead, smoothing it back until his hand turned back down to softly meet the side of your jaw. "Let's just go," you said, and though your voice was sullen, you'd have had a difficult time hiding your smile from him in the tight proximity.

"Alright," he agreed, and you ignored the laugh laced into his voice, seemingly entertained at how timid you were acting — after all, that was a part of you that was all but entirely novel to him. He took a small step back, arms falling back to his sides, but you didn't yet move away.

"Alright," you finally echoed, voice breathy as you stepped out beside him to leave the bathroom, and he followed closely behind. "What time is everyone getting here?"

"Around noon." You couldn't see it when his lips quirked, his mind not having budged an inch from the conversation you'd just had. "It is kind of precious that you care so much about whether my family likes you, though."

"Shut up, Philip."

—

Your early afternoon was a flurry of names and introductions. Everyone was beyond enthusiastic to meet you — an enthusiasm you returned without farce or falsehoods, what with how sweet they all were, but you couldn't help your lingering guilt as you struggled to keep track of all their names and families, your map of who went with who quickly tangling.

The Hamiltons' backyard was likely as large as the entire block that housed your apartment building back in the city, and not without its utility. Philip's family members covered just about every square foot, from toddlers pulling at one another's hair to their aging grandparents, lounging in the sun and commenting on how they grow up so fast.

It was hectic, but you weren't complaining — not when the crowd meant that twenty-some aunts, uncles, and cousins all seemed to have brought individual cornucopias of their best bakery.

You were hardly in one place for long enough to hold a conversation — it was always only a matter of time until another pseudo-mob of relatives pulled you in a different direction to interrogate you for what must've been the ninetieth time that day. Your cheeks were growing sore from how many middle-aged aunts had squeezed them at one point or another, and your legs were sporadically incapacitated from Philip's little cousins hanging off of them.

Collateral damage aside, the family reunion was far from being the painful ordeal you'd expected. Philip's near-innumerable relatives were certainly keeping you on your toes and a smile on your face. A few hours in, you'd all but forgotten why you resisted coming in the first place.

"Y/N, come here!" Your eyebrows shot up. It was Georges's younger sister Marie who was tugging you toward her by your wrist, pulling you away from where you stood with Philip's arm wrapped around your waist. You were only about three years her senior, but she had such bubbly energy that you couldn't help but think of her as being younger than she was.

"Hey, hang on," Philip protested, and you wore an amused smile when you glanced back at him. "Are you all just going to keep dragging her around? I brought her here; when do I get to spend any time with her?"

"Oh, you get her all the time. Don't be greedy," Marie shot back, and though he rolled his eyes, Philip's grip on your waist loosened.

"Don't keep her too long. She's been questioned enough for one day." Though she managed to pull you out of Philip's grasp, he caught your hand just before she could get you out of his reach. You could hear Marie scoff, but Philip raised a dubious eyebrow at you, and your smile softened when you saw the concern etched into his furrowed brow.

"I'll be fine, Pip." You squeezed his hand reassuringly, and though it was reluctant, he released you with a sigh. "See you in a bit?"

"You'd better."

He hardly saw you grin at the playful wink he sent you before you were yanked away, your head snapping back around in a panic to follow where Marie was pulling you. Though you didn't see it, he chuckled lightly when he took another sip of his drink.

"So, where to?" you asked Marie breathlessly just as you were dragged out of Philip's earshot.

"Just over here..." She trailed off, clearly scanning the area for something, and when you saw her gaze lock on a gaggle of women in one corner of the yard, her eyes lit up. "Ah!"

At that point, you were more than happy just to let whatever happened happen — this pseudo-family was beyond chaotic, and there was really no point in resisting. You didn't question it as she pulled you alongside her to the others, and she flashed you a small smile. "So, have you met everyone yet?"

"Not quite yet, but close to it," you said. "But remembering everyone's name might just be another story."

Her easy laugh made your smile broaden; you'd been surprised, at first, by how warm all the people you'd met had been, but a family like this was certainly something you could get used to.

"I don't blame you; there are definitely a lot of us," she replied, "but that's unimportant. We want to hear about you!"

"You want to hear about me?" you repeated as you reached the group, not bothering to mask the disbelief in your voice. "There's not a whole lot to tell, really."

"We want to hear about you and Philip." It was the woman you recognized as Frances who piped up, drawing your attention into the larger circle of ladies around you, watching you with an enthusiasm that had you more than taken aback. "He's kept you from us for so long that we still know virtually nothing about you!"

"Oh! Um..." You gave a weak, anxious laugh, gaze traveling across the group, the eager faces staring back at you. "Alright, I... What d'you want to know?"

"Is this all weird for you?" Your eyebrows shot up at Frances's question, hoping there was more to the question (or really, that she wasn't just onto you). "I don't mean this weekend, of course. But is it weird to be dating a coworker?"

You had to stop yourself from letting out a dramatic sigh of relief. If we're talking weird, you thought, you don't know the half of it. However, you only replied with, "I mean, not really. We have basically the same job, so there's no icky power dynamic there or anything."

"But how do you keep from getting into petty little fights? My husband and I can hardly work together to plan a day trip, let alone collaborate for a career." Her animated huff made you smile, and she shook her head in mock exasperation. "I guess that's a testament to how strong your relationship is, huh?"

You swallowed your laugh, struggling to force a straight face as you tried to respond. "I don't know about that. We argue plenty."

"Seems like you haven't let it come between you, though." The woman who spoke then was one of Philip's cousins by birth, Kitty, and you shrugged. Though you knew you had to maintain your composure, you couldn't help your amusement at the line of conversation.

"I guess we've made it this far, right?"

"It's pretty impressive, honestly," Marie interjected. "No one else has managed to keep him tied down for more than a couple months. He really seems to like you."

"How long have you been together?" Frances added, and your eyes widened a fraction of an inch. You'd been over this with him, right?

"Oh, about... two years, now?" You were praying you'd gotten the number right, but no one seemed to question it further.

"Oh my God, really? When's your anniversary?" Marie's sister Anastasie asked, her eyes alight and voice excited. Had you not been so worried about figuring out what date to tell them, how thrilled they seemed about your relationship would've been wildly endearing — it was obvious how much they all cared for Philip. "Have you two celebrated yet?"

"Yeah, we went out for it a week or two ago," you responded vaguely, fiddling with the strap of your dress. You were glad no one could feel how much your palms were sweating. "It was, ah..."

Thankfully, you didn't get a chance to finish your hasty explanation, as Marie proceeded to ask, "Really? Where did you go?"

"Oh, just to dinner downtown. He—"

"Did he sweep you off your feet?" You struggled to remember the name of Philip's younger cousin who'd just cut you off.

"I mean, it was definitely—"

"He picked up the check, right?"

"We, um... ended up splitting it. It wasn't—"

"Have you thought at all about taking the next step? He doesn't have to be the one to propose, you know."

"Not really, but maybe at some point—"

"Oh, that'd be so sweet! You'd be a part of the family!"

"I don't know yet whether—"

"We don't mean to rush you into anything, though. It's your prerogative."

"No, of course—"

"Can we hear the story of how you got together?"

"How long were you working together before he finally asked you out?"

"Um—"

The questions were coming at you by then much faster than you could field them. Your eyes were wide; you'd taken multiple unwitting steps back. It had taken you until then to quite understand what Philip meant by how overwhelming his family could be.

"Hey, Y/N!" You stopped trying to answer the last inquiry when a voice came from behind you, instead glancing back over your shoulder to see who else had decided to barrage you with questions. To your relief, it was Angelica, Philip's younger sister, who was walking toward you, and you offered her a small smile. "Can I borrow you for a second?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you looked back to the group before you. "Oh! I, uh..." You trailed off as Angelica finally reached you.

"Don't worry; I won't keep you long," she promised, and you glanced to her hesitantly. "...But if you'd rather stay and chat and come find me in a little while, that's fine too," she added, and you sighed, taking a step back from the circle of women around you.

"No, it's okay," you reassured her, embracing without reluctance your opportunity to escape the hot seat, before turning back to the group to add, "It's been great talking to you all, though. I'll catch up with you a bit later?"

Your words were met with a chorus of goodbyes, some more disappointed than others, but you couldn't pretend not to be eager to go. You turned away alongside Angelica, asking, "So what'd you need me for?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but paused, pulling further away from the group before she responded in a low voice, "Honestly, nothing. You just looked like you needed an excuse to get out of there."

Her words elicited a surprised laugh from you. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

—

"Hey, there you are." Your eyebrows shot up; you turned your head in the direction of the voice, only to see Philip walking toward you with an easy smile. "What are you doing over here all alone?"

You took a sip of your lemonade as you shrugged, if only to hide your small smile (particularly because you were struggling to grasp why his showing up left you unable to suppress it). "Avoiding you, mostly."

Philip let out a soft huff of laughter as he took a seat on the folding chair beside you, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. As though you aren't happy to see me." You quirked a skeptical brow at his (perhaps overly) confident grin. "But seriously, I haven't seen you in a bit. Has my family been putting you through the wringer?"

"Something like that," you snorted. "Your cousins are incessant. It doesn't help that I don't have answers to all their questions about how we fell in love, or when we're finally planning to tie the knot." Your voice was mocking throughout the latter sentence, but Philip didn't seem to be put off by it.

"Well, why don't you just tell them the truth?"

Your eyebrows shot up. "Why, exactly, would you want me to do that?"

"Well, it'd be a lot easier to give them the real story." He shrugged, and his matter-of-fact tone had you wary of his next words. "Y'know, how you've been head-over-heels for me since the moment we met, how you spent so many years in denial of how hard you were falling for me."

"Oh my god, shut up, Philip," you groaned, kicking the side of his knee lightly with the leg you had crossed over your other. He was failing entirely to hide how entertained he was. "Keep this up, and they'll be getting the real story about how you manipulated me into coming here."

"I didn't manipulate you. You chose to be here. Take some ownership, princess." He gave you a pointed look, and you scowled in response. "Anyway, let's not pretend you don't like my family too much to let them down like that."

"Hey, it's not my fault they're so likable!" you said. "They've been treating me like family since the moment they met me. It's so sweet; don't come at me."

"That's kind of adorable." Though you glared at him, there was no heat in it. He continued, "I'm glad you like them, but that definitely doesn't explain why you're hiding a corner."

"I'm just tired, alright?" you said defensively. "We've been here a few hours, now. I needed a break."

"Relax, princess. I'm not here to judge," he reassured you, and despite the skepticism etched in your raised eyebrow, his smile was warm. "But if you really need a breather, I can go for now and catch up with you in a bit."

How considerate the offer was struck you, and he was almost ready to take your surprised silence as having accepted it, before you spoke. "No, no, that's okay. I've probably pulled away from everyone for a little too long for it to be socially acceptable."

"Don't bother to worry about what's 'socially acceptable' here," he said, gaze amused as he glanced back to the party all through his backyard. "My family may be a little exhausting, but that also means they're too caught up in their own gossip to realize when someone's missing."

You let out a surprised laugh, and the sound elicited a self-satisfied grin from him. "You're really just gonna call them all inconsiderate like that?"

He scoffed, gesturing to you with the hand that still held his drink. "Hey, hang on. I did not call them inconsiderate. That was all you."

"I didn't say that they were! I think they're sweet!"

"They are sweet! They just have tunnel vision for whoever's in front of them," he argued, and you eyed him dubiously as you took another sip of your lemonade.

"That’s still mean." You shrugged, and though he rolled his eyes, amusement danced in them.

"What do you know? You haven't even met all of them yet."

"And whose fault is that?" you said, raising your eyebrows expectantly, but he just chuckled.

"Alright, I'll admit defeat on this one. You win," he conceded, but the sarcasm woven into his voice left you skeptical. "Wanna come meet the rest of them now, then? I mean, since you've been so rudely lying low all afternoon."

Despite how teasing his tone was, you let out a bitter scoff. "Don't gimme that! I've met at least thirty people in the past three hours. I earned a break."

"And I didn't mean anything by it!" He held his hands up in defense, but he still looked annoyingly contented.

"I'm sure you didn't," you replied, tone laden with sarcasm. "But... I dunno if I'm up to meeting too many more people just yet." You bit your lip as you paused, hesitant to voice the words sitting on your tongue. He raised an eyebrow. "Any chance you'd be alright with just... hanging here with me for a while? As much as I appreciate the vodka lemonade, it doesn't make for great company."

Your voice was light with your last sentence, but Philip was left surprised by the vulnerability in your gaze. "I'd love to, princess."

The kind smile he offered you left unexplainable heat rising in your cheeks, and though you couldn't see it, having turned away to hide your face, affection was heavy in his gaze as he watched you. "Why are you so insistent on calling me that?" you mumbled, and your words made him laugh.

"What, don't you like it?" The mock pout he plastered on made you scoff, despite how the corners of your lips twitched up.

"We've long since covered this; let's not pretend." You gave him a pointed look, but he shrugged, undeterred.

"I dunno; I don't see the problem." He took a sip of his drink. "We've been together for two years, and you're still not comfortable with a little affection? Maybe you just don't love me as much as I thought you did."

"Oh, shut up," you huffed, and your weak glare made him laugh. "Have I mentioned recently what a pain in the ass you are?"

"That's not much of a pet name, Y/N. I'm gonna need you to step it up," he sighed, and your amusement was obvious though you rolled your eyes. "Do we really have to rehash this conversation?"

Mischief danced in his stare when it met yours, and your eyes were wide. You had a feeling he recalled as vividly as you did how this line of discussion ended when you first started driving up to his parents' house. Your stomach turned, seemingly beyond your control. "Don't you go there again," you said, but your voice was breathless.

"Aw, what's wrong, princess? Were all my suggestions really not good enough?" His grin broadened when he saw you swallow hard. "I really thought there was at least one winner in there."

"Philip," you warned, tone hard, and he laughed.

"Relax. I won't push it," he promised, "I can keep an environment family-friendly."

He sent you a wink, and you scowled at the satisfaction written deep in his smile. By then, the heat rising in your cheeks was growing to a fire. You were struggling to meet his eyes. It'd hardly been 48 hours since he and you began the drive north, and you did not like how much those 48 hours changed the way his words were affecting you, even just recalling the conversation leaving you much more flustered than it had any business leaving you.

"Whatever," you mumbled into your plastic cup before draining what was left of your drink. You didn't realize until you glanced back at him that he was still watching you. You were too stunned in that moment to say anything more, but by some wild stroke of luck, you were saved by the bell.

"Uncle Philip!" Or, really, saved by the six-year-old nephew, but the difference may as well have been semantic.

Philip's heavy stare turned light the moment he heard the voice, and you followed his gaze to its origin. Running toward you were two kids, the girl just slightly taller than the boy, and they looked equally elated to see Philip seated there beside you.

"Woah, hey there," he laughed, eyebrows shooting up as they both immediately started clinging to his legs, trying to push themselves up onto his lap. "This is a pretty warm 'welcome home.'"

"You're back!" the boy exclaimed, as though it was a revelation of its own.

"I know, pretty weird, huh?" Philip replied, and his grin was broader than you'd ever seen it, "Guess I can't stay away from you two for too long."

"We missed you." When she spoke, the girl's voice was much quieter, and she wore a tiny smile.

"Well, I missed you more," Philip said matter-of-factly. The little boy creased his brow.

"Hey, we missed you more more," he argued, and Philip let out a dramatic sigh.

"I guess you win this round." The boy wore a proud smile as he tugged absentmindedly on Philip's pant leg. "Alright, now c'mere, both of you. Don't I get hugs?"

They squealed when he picked each of them up, pulling them into his lap, and though they squirmed in his hands, they both wrapped their arms around his neck only moments later, pulling him into a hug.

"You're too tall for this," the girl protested, finally sitting back onto his leg with a pout. Philip shrugged.

"Maybe you're just too short."

"Hey! I'm growing!" She folded her arms, and as Philip chuckled, it seemed the boy had moved on.

"Are you Y/N?" You were surprised when he turned to you with bright eyes, bouncing on Philip's leg.

"Oh! Uh, yeah. That's me," you said, surprised demeanor easing into entertainment. "And what's your name?"

"I'm Richard, and I'm six, and Uncle Philip's my uncle," he explained, glancing back at Philip with a smile before grinning at you. "I knew it was you 'cause Uncle Philip told us how pretty you are."

Your eyebrows shot up; your smile was wide with amusement. "Oh, really, Uncle Philip?"

"Hey, you've hardly been around for three minutes, and you're already ratting me out?" He looked down at Richard with mock indignance, and though he giggled, he put on a small pout.

"Sorry."

"You're lucky I can't stay mad at you." He yelped when Philip ruffled his hair, frowning as he swatted his hands away and tried to fix it. As he sat back down, folding his arms in his discontent, Philip glanced back down at the girl on his other leg, squeezing her side lightly. "Hey, do you wanna introduce yourself?"

She shook her head furiously, and he chuckled. "Alright. That's okay. Can I introduce you?"

She eyed you timidly for a moment, and when you offered her a small smile, she nodded hesitantly. "Okay. Thank you. Y/N, this is Elizabeth." He finally looked back up at you, and you weren't fully aware of how soft your gaze was, watching him with his niece and nephew. "She's seven, and she's the smartest girl in the family." He nudged her playfully, and though she hid her face in his button-down, she giggled.

"Hey, what about me?" Richard protested, and Philip huffed.

"Well, obviously, that makes you the smartest boy in the family," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, and Richard beamed up at him.

"Even smarter than you?"

Philip laughed. "Oh, yeah. For sure."

The words made you smile. "It's nice to meet both of you. Your uncle tells me all about you."

Richard's eyes lit up at your words. "Really? What's he say?"

"Good things only. I’ve heard a lot about both your soccer games and your skills in Mario Kart," you told both kids matter-of-factly, “but mostly, I can’t get him to stop going on about how much he loves you both.” The slightest bit of pride swelled in your chest when it earned a tiny smile from Elizabeth.

“Aw, so you do listen when I talk?” Philip plastered on a pout as he glanced back up to you, and you couldn’t even force a scowl.

“Hey, of course, I do!” you said defensively. “Mostly ‘cause I can’t get you to stop talking. I’ve found that actually listening to it staves off the intense boredom of just hearing you drone on and on.”

He rolled his eyes, and your smile was wide. “Oh, real nice, princess.”

“I always am.” You shrugged innocently, and he chuckled, shaking his head. A beat passed; his stare was soft as it held yours.

"He also told us about you," Elizabeth said quietly, and though a certain fraction of your attention was still on the fact that she'd finally decided to talk to you, the rest of it was taken aback.

"Did he, now?" You sounded as though you'd been winded, and your gaze once again met Philip's. His stare faltered; his expression was several steps past timid. "And when was this?"

"Just a couple weeks ago," Richard said eagerly, not seeming to have noticed the shift in either of your demeanors. "He told us that you're pretty, and he likes you so, so much. Technically he was telling Dad. But still."

"Aw, isn't that sweet?" Your smile had begun to turn teasing, and Philip let out a soft huff. Richard seemed prepared to continue full speed ahead, though.

"Mmhmm. And he also said—"

"Okay, that's about enough of that," Philip cut him off, giving him a stern look, and Richard frowned. "Listen, I have a really important mission for you two."

When he lowered his voice, both kids were watching him with wide eyes, giving him their full attention. "So, Y/N and I haven't been able to go hang out with Uncle Georges all day, but we don't want him getting lonely. I need you two to go and keep him company, okay? I would go, but he'd much rather spend time with you rascals." He winked at them, the words conspiratory, and they both nodded decisively. "I'm counting on you; don't let me down."

He set them both back onto the ground, lowering them off of his lap. "Okay, Uncle Philip! It's nice meeting you, Y/N!"

They'd both taken off before you could respond, and you laughed lightly.

"You're so good with them." When you turned to him with a wide smile, Philip only shrugged.

"They're sweet kids. They make it pretty easy on me."

"Yeah, they seem to be," you said, and you couldn't gauge the source of the hesitance in his eyes as you searched his expression. "But still. I can tell how much they like you. Take a little credit, Philip."

Your expectant stare made him chuckle, despite how subdued his entire demeanor seemed. "Thanks, Y/N."

"It's just the truth." You pursed your lips as you watched him. You were hesitant to continue, but you did anyway, not bothering to hide your growing smile. "It's especially impressive how quickly you managed to distract them from telling me how much you absolutely adore me."

Although his unease was obvious in the way he fiddled with the rolled sleeve of his shirt, in the shade of red that you could just barely see creeping into his complexion, he sent you a wink. "Hey, there's a reason I didn't tell my family I was dating Theo or Susan."

To his relief, you laughed. "Good choice.” You paused a moment before you continued, pressing your lips together as you considered whether it was a good idea to go on. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

The sound that escaped him was somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “Oh, shut up. You already know you're attractive.”

“Mmh, so are you, but that doesn’t mean I go around telling people about it all the time,” you countered, and he cocked an eyebrow.

“So you think I’m pretty?”

“That’s your only takeaway from that?” You scoffed. “God, you have such selective hearing.”

He shrugged. “Say what you want, but I think the important part of that sentence was that you’re attracted to me, princess.”

“No, hang on,” you corrected him, and despite your combative tone, his conceited smile was deep-set. “I think you’re attractive, but that does not mean I’m attracted to you.”

He grinned. “I just wanted to hear you say again that you think I’m attractive.”

Blood was rushing to your cheeks under his cocky stare, and you pulled together a scowl in an effort to hide how flustered he had you. “Yeah; you’re also insufferable.”

“It’s part of my charm.” When he winked, your scowl deepened.

You couldn’t tear your focus from how your heart pounded a tattoo against your ribcage.

"You finally ready to meet a couple more people?"

You groaned lightly as Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, offering you a playful grin. It'd been about an hour since his niece and nephew split, having come back to find the both of you sporadically as the afternoon went on. You stood right outside the house's back door, having just gone in to recycle your cup, and Philip was admittedly surprised when you didn't immediately swat his hand away after he squeezed your side teasingly.

"I've already met so many," you whined, but he just laughed.

"Hey, I've let you hide out for more than an hour, now. You owe me, princess."

"I don't owe you shit," you grumbled, and when he raised a skeptical eyebrow, you sighed. "But fine, let's go,"

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," he said dryly.

You'd assumed by then you'd already met the rest of Georges's family, having been introduced to seven more of them throughout the course of the day, but when Philip lead you across the yard, only for him to ultimately embrace who you were fairly sure was just a taller, wrinkled iteration of Georges, you were proved wrong. Georges's parents were seemingly who he and his sister Anastasie had been carbon copied from. They both embraced you enthusiastically, and by then, you supposed you shouldn't have been surprised by it any longer. No one at his family reunion seemed to have adopted any concept of personal space.

"Philip must know by now 'ow lucky 'e has struck it, non?" Georges's father Gilbert (who, like his wife, insisted on your using his first name) raised an eyebrow, looking to your faux beau with an impish smile.

"Really. You know, you could do better zan 'im, mon chou," his wife Adrienne added, holding you by the forearms and giving you a serious look. You laughed.

"Oh, believe me; I'm well aware," you assured them, and Philip let out a soft gasp, mocking offense. When you looked to him with an eyebrow raised, he plastered on a pout.

"You're so mean to me."

"I'm just kidding, babe." You lightly checked your hips against his, and though he rolled his eyes, he was smiling.

"Alright, whatever," he conceded with a huff. "That's just about enough of you two, though. We're gonna go find Henriette."

"Oh, you should! Ze two of you 'ave not been together in so long," Adrienne lamented as she released your arms, returning to her husband with a soft smile. "I miss seeing you with 'er."

"Who's Henriette?" you asked Philip, a curious eyebrow raised.

"Their oldest daughter. She's about our age."

"And she and Philip used to be awfully close," Adrienne added in a singsong voice, but you were struggling to gauge why she was looking at him so expectantly. He sighed.

"Can we please not do this the weekend I finally bring my girlfriend home?"

Adrienne shrugged, and you weren't sure you liked the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "I am only saying, now zat you are both here..."

When she trailed off, Gilbert gave her a warning look. "Please, amour. Philip is 'appy. Be supportive."

"I am always supportive of Philip, no matter what choices 'e makes." How pointed the words were had you on edge, despite her easy smile.

"Alright. We'll see you two at dinner, okay?"

"Of course. I look forward to talking more with you, Y/N. We are truly glad zat Philip 'as you." Gilbert gave you a warm smile, but Philip didn't seem able to drag you out of there quickly enough for his liking.

"It was nice meeting both of you!" you called back to them with a smile, giving a short wave as Philip ushered you away. Once you were out of earshot, you glanced back up and saw how tense he looked, his jaw tight, you raised an eyebrow. "So, what was all that about?"

He sighed. "Don't worry about Adrienne. It's nothing."

"It's clearly something."

"Nothing important." When he met your skeptical gaze, he added, "Henriette and I dated for a while back in high school, and her mom hasn't been able to let it go since. She's fixated on us having actual family relations."

"Oh," was all you said, eyebrows pushing toward your hairline, and he gave you a concerned glance. Though you fixed on a smile, it was uneasy. "So is that why I'm really here, then? To make her jealous enough to take you back?"

Your words were meant to be teasing, and he took them as such, but you were both simply pretending not to hear the rigidity of your voice. He chuckled. "Whatever, princess."

You were not fond of the sinking feeling in your stomach when he didn't contradict you. Another moment passed as he scanned the yard for her, but you couldn't hear the silence over the roar of your spiraling thoughts.

You had no reason to care even if he was using you to make her jealous, right? It didn't matter. In three days, you'd both be back in your office, and everything would go back to normal. You'd be completely ignorant of Philip's dating life; he'd be ignorant of yours (despite it being nonexistent — but that was by choice, of course). He'd go back to pissing you off when he didn't get his share of a project done on time, and you'd go back to chewing him out for it biweekly.

"Hey, Henriette!" His calling across the yard snapped you out of your haze. He raised a hand in greeting, and when you followed his gaze, the unexplainable lump sitting in the back of your throat seemed to grow.

"Philip!" She rushed over with equal enthusiasm, and he released your waist when she pulled him into a hug. "Hey, it's been forever! What sort of trouble have you been getting yourself up to in the big city?"

"'The big city'," he repeated with a short laugh. "As though you don't literally live two blocks outside of downtown."

"And yet you still manage to never come visit me." Her gaze was accusatory as she released him from her embrace, pulling back. Oh, god. Of course, she was gorgeous.

He grinned. "I'll start visiting you when you start visiting me, alright?"

"I might just have to take you up on that, Hamilton." His smile broadened at her wink, and your stomach seemed to have been tying itself into a square knot.

"And who's this?" She raised her eyebrows as she turned to you, none of the brightness draining from her expression.

You forced a smile. "I'm his girlfriend, Y/N."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, you're Y/N?"

"You've heard of me?"

"We all have," she assured you, "but someone failed to mention to me how pretty you are."

The pointed look she gave Philip was playful, and despite how sweet she was, you were still on edge. "You think you're surprised? No one told me when I agreed to come to the family reunion that I'd be meeting the hot ex."

"Oh, you think I'm hot?" The laugh she elicited from you when she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively was genuine.

"Come on; we both know you are," you said, looking at her expectantly. She grinned.

"Well, I'm flattered, Y/N. If Philip doesn't treat you right, you're welcome to give me a call." When Henriette sent you a wink, you couldn't help but feel guilty about your knee-jerk reaction to resent her — especially considering that you couldn't locate the reaction's origin.

"Hey, play your cards right, and maybe I'll be the one visiting you back in the city," you shot back playfully. She squeezed your arm as she laughed.

"Oh my god, of course, you're funny too." The words were almost akin to a scoff, and if not for her next words, you may have taken offense. "I get now why Philip didn't bring you home for so long. I know that if I were dating you, I'd be every bit as worried about my family all fighting for you."

You let out a soft 'aw.' "You're sweet. It's great to meet you, Henriette."

"You too." She started to take a step toward you, but she froze, wearing a hesitant smile. "Can I hug you? Do you do hugs?"

Your smile was apprehensive. "Yeah, bring it in."

She squealed lightly at your words, pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace, which you returned with as much strength as you could find in your body as it was being squashed. Jesus; you were fairly certain you were developing a crush on this girl, and you'd known her for all of four minutes. You could only begin to imagine what Philip thought of her after having known her for his entire life, let alone after dating her.

When she finally let you go, her words were addressed to both of you, but you couldn't help but feel as though she was really talking to Philip. "So, tell me everything. It's been forever; I wanna know hear all about your new friends, all about work, the times you've done something stupid that landed you in the hospital, the times you've been arrested — all of it."

He chuckled, and you let out an internal sigh of relief when his arm found its way back around your waist. "It's been pretty mundane, actually. Nothing like the trouble we used to make for everyone."

She snorted. "Really. We were both a headache and a half. I still haven't stopped hearing about the time we... 'borrowed' Uncle Hercules's motorcycle, and it's been almost ten years."

"To be fair, we were almost charged with destruction of property."

"What's the story there?" you interjected with a brow raised, and Philip just shrugged.

"Small-time motorcycle crash. Not as dramatic as it sounds."

"That's not what you were saying when you spent the next three nights in the hospital being scanned for brain damage," Henriette said matter-of-factly, and Philip laughed.

"It was scarier in the moment," he defended, and you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. As much as Philip's family had made his place feel like home for the weekend, just then, you felt like quite the outsider. "But none of that matters anymore. I learned my lesson. What exciting things have happened to you since I last saw you?"

"Oh, not much, really. Practicing law is still nothing like How to Get Away With Murder, for better or for worse. I still have my two dogs." She shrugged, and you decided you'd imagined it when something hopeful flashed in her gaze. "Still chronically single. Same old, same old."

That made your throat twist. That wasn't something you just casually mentioned to an ex; the words were obviously pointed, and you felt vindicated in your intuition not to trust her. But then again, why should you care? That was none of your business. Henriette was a catch; you were happy for Philip (or, you should've been).

So where was the heavy, sinking feeling in your chest coming from? This wasn't something you were used to, wasn't something you'd felt since... oh, god. You hadn't felt like this since John. But why now? Did that mean that you—?

"C'mon, you know you're only single because you're married to your work," Philip reasoned, breaking into your train of thought at an extremely opportune moment. "You wouldn't have any trouble finding someone."

She shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. I am downsizing on my hours, so I guess we'll have to see where that takes me, huh?"

There was no way she really believed the question in her sly smile, her raised brow, was going over your head, and you were taken aback by her audacity. However, Philip seemed unaffected, either not noticing or not caring about the tone she'd adopted.

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll turn out great," he said brightly. "There's no shortage of eligible bachelors or bachelorettes in NYC."

"No, there really isn't." Her low voice was making you increasingly uneasy. Maybe you were just reading into things. Even if you weren't, you had no right to care. This wasn't your place.

"If you'd like, I could totally set you up with some of my friends," you offered, and her eyebrows shot up. She seemed to have forgotten herself, plastering back on her wildly enthusiastic personality as she remembered you were there. "They're all great people, and there are a couple I'm sure you'd hit it off with."

"Maybe at some point," she said noncommittally, wearing a wide smile. "Right now, I'm just trying to see where life takes me. Build a little more time into my schedule for my personal life."

"Oh, yeah, your dad was telling us you were thinking of getting a cat?" Philip said, raising an inquiring eyebrow, and she nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, I want to adopt."

"Y'know, I have a friend who works at a shelter in the Bronx. It's a super great place," he suggested. "If you want, I can give you the info, and you can go check it out sometime."

"Oh, really? That'd be great," Henriette said. "We should go down there together. So you can give me your contact at the shelter and another opinion on what type of cat I should get."

"That sounds fun." At his words, your shifting uncomfortably in his embrace seemed to be what reminded him that you were there. He raised an eyebrow at you, nudging you with his shoulder. "You in, princess? I'm sure the extra input couldn't hurt."

"No, no, that's alright." You waved off the offer with a strained smile. "You two should catch up. I wouldn't want to intrude."

To his credit, Philip had apparently sensed that something was off with you. "You sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely," you said, giving Henriette the warmest smile you could muster. "It's great that you two are reuniting. I'm sure you don't need me there."

"If you insist," Henriette said with a shrug and a smile, and Philip could feel you tense in his grasp.

"Of course," you said, taking a deep breath as you glanced from her to Philip. "Well, as long as you two have so much to recap over the past couple years, I hope you won't mind me running inside for a moment. I saw Eliza putting out crab cakes a little while ago, and I've gotta get to them before they're gone."

Henriette accepted your playful tone easily, letting out a light laugh, but Philip was hesitant. "Oh, yeah? Want me to come with you?"

"No need. Don't worry about it." You could only hope your smile came off as reassuring as you ghosted your hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder, gently pushing it off of your waist. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he said with a smile, reaching up to take your hand in his, and though his expression was relaxed, his gaze was searching. You hoped the rigidity of your smile wasn't too obvious. "Come find me again in a bit, though, okay?"

"Sure, Philip." Your features softened when you saw the worry clouding his stare.

"Okay. I'll miss you, princess." Your eyes were wide when his other hand met your waist, pulling you into him, and you could feel your cheeks flare as he dipped down, lightly kissed the crown of your head. You were stunned at the sudden action, and the skin of your cheek burned when his nose brushed across it. He whispered to you, "Can we talk tonight? You've got me kinda worried."

You nodded, offering him a soft smile when you pulled away. "I'll see you later."

You didn't see his pensive gaze follow you as you made your way across the yard, back toward the house, but Henriette certainly did.

You, however, were otherwise occupied. You didn't like the lump sitting heavy in the back of your throat; you didn't like the sinking feeling in your chest; you did not like how unsettled your stomach was. You'd been enamored with Philip's family since just about the moment you began to meet all of them — surely, they were why it was suddenly becoming so comfortable to be around him, the atmosphere always light, always playful. He was just easier to tolerate when other people you liked were around.

Or, at least, that'd been what you were firmly convinced of when you'd woken up that morning. Even more than you didn't like how you were reacting to his interaction with Henriette, you despised how shaken the entire day had left you feeling. And it was hardly 5 PM.

"Oh, hey, Y/N." It was one of Philip's younger siblings who you almost ran right into after breaching the sliding glass door of their house — you were too scattered to remember his name. "Where are you headed?"

You also weren't particularly fond of having to pull back up your easygoing facade every time you interacted with someone, but you did it nonetheless. "Hey. I'm actually just headed in to use the bathroom. Can you tell me which way it is?"

"Yeah, I gotcha. It's down the hall to the left, and it'll be the last door on your right." He pointed in the direction you were headed, and you thanked him quickly, hurrying past with a light smile. By the time you reached the bathroom, your head was pounding. You locked the door behind you, and you slumped against the sink.

You could see your own distress reflected plainly in the mirror before you; you struggled not to return to your analysis as to why, exactly, you were feeling how you were, but ultimately, you failed. Maybe you'd just been anxious, overwhelmed from meeting a small army of a family all in one afternoon. Or were you just tired? Really, the workweek you'd had before was exhausting, and you never had a chance to catch up on your sleep.

However, neither of your desperate searches for a way out of this adequately explained how crestfallen your — or, really, Philip's — interaction with Henriette had made you, and you were left with the explanation you dreaded even considering. You didn't want to label how you were feeling; you wanted it to just go away, but until it did, you were left with a serious dilemma.

You'd only left work to go to Philip's parents' place two days prior, but over those two days, something had changed, a full movement of tectonic plates that you could not put your finger on. You weren't sure whether it was simply the kindness his family had shown you, but the light in which you viewed Philip was shifting. What you may before have found obnoxious now left you with a reluctant laugh, unable to resent his frequent jabs at you. You couldn't explain it, but there you were.

Philip’s casual affection had somehow become something you didn’t even think twice about, instead savoring the warmth it left in your chest. It’d taken you a while to realize that the two variables were related.

Until just minutes before then, you’d been feeling inexplicably light, carefree, and your weekend had even begun to feel like a genuine vacation. But now, you found yourself alone, locked in the first floor bathroom doing everything in your power not to tear your hair out, coming to uneasy terms with the fact that the feeling that was gnawing at your stomach, curdling your blood, was none other than jealousy.

What was happening to you?

325 notes · View notes