#hamilton popped up twice so who knows

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

�� pairing: lewis hamilton x kalani halloway.

• chapter warnings: infidelity.

• ru’s 💌: i won’t be giving out chapter summaries for this story as I genuinely want this story to the kind that you engage with without any hints given. if this story is a success, who knows what the future could be for it 😉. don’t forget to comment, reblog and like 💋.

• tip: kofi | paypal

• w.c: 1.03K

PROLOGUE

JUNE 2022.

The Thompson Hill youth football club the ‘Thompson Tigers’ had won their away match against another local rival team so their energies were still high as the group of young teenagers congregated in the Nando’s restaurant. The team took space at the back of the building but their table had a good view of the high street outside.

“How can you call yourself a Nigerian but you’re ordering lemon and herb?!” Tyrique, the goal-keeper of the team, criticised Michael - one of the defenders. “You’re a disgrace to your ancestors.”

“First of all! I’m half-Nigerian and two, not all of us were born with the devil’s arsehole for a mouth.” The remark caused an eruption of laughter throughout the restaurant.

Emil, who had been quiet in his corner with one headphone covering his ear just chuckled to himself and shook his head as he turned back his attention to the video that was playing on his phone. The footage was of him at the recent match. He had scored twice, his last one being the deciding the goal of the match.

It was something that he was proud of but there had been too many missed opportunities but the rival team had put on a good defence and were quite aggressive with their offence. However, he felt like he could have done more. If he was going to get scouted, he needed to be better.

“Right Emil, what am I getting you lad?” The Thompson Tigers’ head coach. Raymond Wright asked the young boy.

“Erm, just a quarter hot spice chicken with spicy rice and coleslaw . Refill drink please.” Emil ordered his food.

“Any desert for the man of the match?” Emil felt his cheeks warm at the statement. Everyone had agreed that he had deserved the badge of honour. Throughout the entirety of the match, Emil was the man lifting the spirits of the other players, keeping them going.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks coach.” the older man patted his shoulder and then walked towards the counter. As Emil turned his attention back to his phone, a message popped up.

Mum ❤️: Coach just sent me videos of the match! You smashed it honey and I’m so proud of you! I’m sorry that we couldn’t make it. But I will be making your favourite food tonight. Love you baby boy.

The message caused him to smile. His mother was always expressive and she did not care that he found it a little embarrassing and cringe, especially when they were out together in public.

He quickly typed a response back.

Emil: Thank you mum you only missed this one match and that’s only because Titi is sick. As long as I get the most plantain on my plate, we’ll be okay.

Exiting the message thread, he clicked on the thread that he shared with his father. The last message that he had received from his dad was in the morning and it was a google luck text. Emil was a little disheartened but he knew that once his father knew about the results of the match, he would reach out.

Emil shook his head as he locked his phone and took his headphones off so that he could join in conversation with the rest of the team.

Coach and a couple of teammates returned to the table with some refill glasses and cutlery. Emil was focused on cleaning his fork and knife when his name was called out.

“Wassup?” He acknowledged his teammate, Jamal, who had called out to him.

“Isn’t that your dad?” He used his head to indicate towards the window. Outside on the high street was a parked uber and outside of the vehicle stood a man. Emil observed the man. The man’s back wasn’t particularly large, he was just tall. The back of his shoulders stretched out the fabric of the fitted suit and it was in a colour that was typical of the navy blue colour that his father would wear for work. Whilst Emil took after his mother’s rich dark skin - his father was more of a lighter brown that, when it got too hot, he would tan.

And it wasn’t until Emil spotted a tattoo of a small bird behind the man’s ear did it full recognise in his brain that the figure was his father.

Without a further thought, Emil shot out of his seat and rushed towards the exit of the restaurant without a care. His dad was outside and the joy riddling his young body was uncontainable. Months of not having his father not being able to turn up for any of his games, him making that extra effort when his mother was home bound with his little sister meant the world to him.

He swung the door of the restaurant open and only slowed down to cross the road, Emil ran over. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and frowned in confusion at the sight a few feet ahead of him.

Just a few steps in font of him, Emil watched as his father, not even turn to face him, but to open his arms as a woman get out of the fashion boutique they were standing in front of. It was a woman he recognised but in that moment, Emil could not put a name to it.

The woman jumped in his father’s arms and embrace him the way that he had witnessed his mother do so many time before. Emil’s brain was trying to catch up with what was happening but his body was already reacting.

He felt his heart pinch with an acute pain that made it harder for him to breathe. Then tears began to well behind his eyes as the pain was becoming too much as the confusion mounted.

And yet, it wasn’t until his father kissed the woman did that confusion and hurt manifested into a deep betrayal and a furious anger.

His quick feet propelled him forward until he felt his hands pushed against the bodies of the adults, breaking them apart.

“What the fuck Dad!” He yelled as the older man stared down at him with a panicked look washing over his face.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Lewis/Nico

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments

hello! thank you for your asks. we would love to share some brocedes recommendations with you. the lore that these two have is a little bit mind blowing - so of course the fics are, too!

we have highlighted ones that contain fluff/domestic goodness in purple for you. 💜

enjoy!

wanna kiss you, but if I do I might miss you, babe by @blorbocedes | T | 2k Nico has the perfect life - beautiful wife, beloved children. He also still has Lewis. These two don't go together but he ignores that as best he can. This is a such a perfect look inside the head of a cheater who knows what he's doing is wrong, yet manages to hide the fact even from himself.

When Nico woke up, he had the dull headache of a slight hangover; the previous night crystal clear – the transgressions of his marriage. Nico breathed, imagining the tearstained apology to his Vivi – a lapse in judgment, and turned to tell Lewis they could never do this again, the excuses of being drunk, lonely, convenient. The space beside his bed is empty, Lewis gone already with no traces of himself left behind. Well, that's one awkward conversation made redundant. It's too cliche to commit infidelity in your marriage and try to overcompensate with lavish gifts, so instead Nico came home with presents for his daughters as always, and made love to his wife, twice. He went down on her for an hour – affirming to himself that Monza was a one off mistake, and making her feel desired, and how grateful Nico was for her, for everything they have built together.

Always The Same Smile by @effervescentdragon | M | 2k Written for the prompt "wag!nico (2016 WDC and retired) and world champion husband vegan dog dad lewis hamilton.... give me established relationship... give me functioning power couple." This author's Nico characterisation is always so on point, and I love how she captures the complexity of the Brocedes dynamic. They get a deserved and fitting happy ending in this one, and I loved it so much!

They didn't want to see the way Lewis' face lit up whenever he saw Nico, or the way Roscoe ran towards Nico immediately (because he knew who was responsible for feeding him more often than not), or the way Nico always praised Lewis when he was invited to commentate and still never held back in his commentary, or the newest tattoo across Lewis' heart, or the way neither of them was ever linked to any random love interests, or the way their vacation pictures came from the same place, or the way Nico still somehow knew the grid gossip he had no way of knowing (and used it whenever he saw fit), or the way the causes they supported were very much aligned.

nsfw: hall pass by @like-pilot-lights | E | 7.3k Wifeguy!Nico gets to have his cake and eat it too (aka Nicos wife is okay with sharing him). As a part of the Nico Rosberg support squad I love a fic that lets him have it all and doesnt portray him as a miserable man that let the love of his life slip through his fingers. The Nico in this fic is in a loving relationship with Vivian who also happens to realize that he has always been a bit in love with Lewis and sets about making sure they get their heads out of their asses.

“Shouldn’t there be, uh, rules?” He says into her hair, as she kisses his neck. She pulls back and regards him, amused and wary. “What do you mean?” He can tell from her face that she knows exactly what he means. “Viv.” “We can have rules, if you like.” She lowers her head and nips his earlobe with her teeth. “Use a condom, for one.” Nico tries not to think about his wife thinking about any activity between him and Lewis that requires a condom and fails, feeling himself getting hard just at the thought. He nods, letting her tongue trace over the curve of his ear. “Anything else?” “Well, just do – whatever you did before.” Whatever they did before . Without meaning to, he snorts a gentle laugh at the thought. “What’s so funny?” she mutters into his ear, slipping a hand down his side. Nico has abandoned any pretence now, is quite sure that his wife is actually kind of enjoying this. He tests the theory. “Well, I’m not sure a blowjob in the Mercedes garage is possible this week.” He holds his breath. It’s the first time he’s actually admitted it out loud, rather than just meekly nodding at his wife’s assumptions. She might, he thinks, storm out right now, horrified at the truth of it. Instead, she lets out a moan and shifts in his lap.

beep, beep, beep by @witchee_writer | T | 10k After a major crash, Lewis finds ways to recover - and finds solace in his old teammate, Nico. I loved this fic because even though it started off heavy, it got so much lighter and had so many cute, fluffy moments! I love angst with a happy ending!

Lewis hadn't seen his life flash before his eyes when he crashed. If he had though, if his life had flashed before his eyes in all of it's technicolor brilliance, he knew what he would have seen. Not championship wins, not living the high life, but hot days on the beach in Greece. Nico's bare back to his chest, Lewis running a hand through his hair as they dreamed big, dreamed of what they could (and would) do together. He would see all of their good times, and maybe some of the bad too.

nsfw: Roseberg's Vs Haminkton by @jean----ralphio | E | 16.3k Nico the florist is madly in love with Lewis the tattooist. Everyone knows this except for Nico. I enjoyed this fic because the love/hate vibes are immaculate. Lewis lives rent-free in Nico's head, to Lewis's slightly fond bemusement and the entertainment of a stellar supporting cast of other drivers.

“I want to get something for Lando. What is seductive?” Carlos blinks at him, then eyes the freesia display. “Who the fuck is Lando?” Nico mutters, before he gestures over to the camellias. “Those represent desire, but that’s all bullshit.” “He needs to know I’m trying to seduce him,” Carlos insists. “I don’t know, man!” Nico groans, rubbing his eyes. “A cactus? They’re kind of phallic?”

nsfw: kellogg's frosties & video games by @georgerussells | E | 58k It's 2021, and contract negotiations for the 2022 season for Mercedes are being decided. It turns out, a familiar face decides to take the seat next to his former rival and teammate : Nico Rosberg is Lewis Hamilton's new teammate. Angst with a happy ending is the love of my life! This is one of my favorite brocedes fics of all time and is a must-read for sure!

There are more flashes of champagne. Flashes of Nico’s smile, of them having pizza in some cheap Italian restaurant at the beach. Eating Kellogg’s Frosties right from the box in the morning, sitting on the kitchen counter, their legs dangling down, thighs touching, them making plans for the day. Nico’s laugh. // There is a touch, they spin and then they’re both in the gravel. Lewis is fuming and he gets out of his car, the Spanish sun burning down on them. He’s ready to yell, the anger hot and white in him, pooling in his stomach. They don’t talk for the rest of the day, the coldness between them a stark contrast to the hot anger from before.

[treeckos-for-arson]

my hot take of the day is that paul doesn’t not like musicals. i don’t know how it’s taken me 5+ years to come to this conclusion, but hear me out. i rewatched tgwdlm twice this weekend and my brain is vibrating on paul matthews frequency. my soul is one with his. my hypothesis wraps up everything that’s bothered me about paul’s character in a neat little bow: paul likes musicals, even if he doesn’t think he does.

the jokes have been circulating from the start, how paul knows the words to moana better than anyone else, how he has seen every musical mentioned in the show (he didn’t directly say he’s seen hamilton and mamma mia, but he at the very least knows the difference in the pop cultural relevance of the two). paul claims that he was forced to see godspell and brigadoon, but that doesn’t account for the other shows he’s seen, one of which he’s canonically watched enough times to know the words better than his coworkers/the average musical-hating ccrp employee.

i’ve heard speculation that paul goes to see every musical just to criticize it. but i don’t think that’s the case. i think paul has repressed his love of musicals. maybe he thinks he hates them, and thinks he watches them to critique them, but deep down he’s lying to himself and he knows it.

this is evidenced by “let it out,” specifically the lines: “i’ve become what i hated / or maybe i never did.” unlike the first verse, where there’s a clear distinction between the lines sung by paul vs pokey, i find it much more difficult to tell who’s singing in the second verse. i imagine this was an intentional acting choice on jon’s part, symbolizing that as pokey gets a firmer grip on paul he has access to more of his repressed memories, feelings, and desires. his words become more seamlessly infused with paul’s real thoughts. he identifies that paul has never hated musicals and makes him acknowledge it to himself and the audience.

so what caused paul to repress his love of musicals? he tells us directly—the moment that made him hate musicals was when he was bussed over to hatchetfield high to watch their production of brigadoon, because sycamore didn’t have a theater program. look, there is No Way that the entire student body of sycamore high was bussed over to see brigadoon: first, it would have been after school hours, and impossible (or at least a very strange thing) to make mandatory; second, the average high school production is, what, 2-4 nights? no way there would have been enough seats for all of sycamore; third, arranging the bus situation would have been far too inconvenient and expensive. i could go on, but my point is, going to see brigadoon was a voluntary action on high schooler!paul’s part. my guess is that it was only the students who actively wanted to be in a theater program who were taken to see brigadoon. that leads me to the conclusion: paul was an aspiring theater kid in high school, and you can’t tell me otherwise.

it was the experience of watching emma and the hatchetfield high kids perform brigadoon, longing to be onstage with them in the spotlight, and knowing he wasn’t going to get that opportunity in high school that made him start repressing his love of musicals. but (and i don’t have evidence for this, it’s just speculation) it’s post-high school, when he realized he was never going to get to be in a musical, that sealed that commitment to repression. whether he went to college and auditioned and didn’t get any roles for lack of practice, or joined the workforce and got his dream crushed out of him by the monotony of ccrp, paul distanced himself from the object of his desire by pretending that, actually, he never really wanted it. he pretended so hard he started to believe it. he began watching musicals “ironically.” he listened to the moana soundtrack because he “liked making fun of it.” he’d “rather do anything” than go watch mamma mia. he was “forced” to see godspell, and he “hated it.” godspell, more like god-awful, amirite?

(and don’t get me started on the little we see of him in black friday—what do you mean you don’t like those “musical commercials,” paul?? are you trying to say the kars 4 kids jingle is comparable to a full-length musical?? do you not listen to music at all, paul??? or are you overgeneralizing your hatred of musicals to cover your ass?? yet you can sing when you realize it’s possibly the final minutes of your life and there’s no hope to be found but in song? answer me paul. ANSWER ME.)

i’ve seen it hypothesized that pokey gives each character what they want before he kills them. paul is no exception. paul finally gets what he wants: to be in a musical. not just to be in a musical, but to play the leading role. to sing before an audience. to be the hero, sacrificing himself to save the day. i think it’s possible that, if ever paul genuinely stops liking musicals, it’s after pokey’s invasion begins. i mean, i certainly would stick to silent films for the rest of my life after getting caught up in that, so i don’t blame him. paul’s panic is visceral in every song sequence—but it’s not because he doesn’t like musicals, it’s for the obvious reason that Holy Fuck Something Is Wrong With These People Think About The Implications.

this has turned into an absolute essay, so tl;dr: paul likes musicals. if anything, paul loves musicals. paul was so broken by his inability to be in musicals as a kid that he made himself believe he hated them so all the missed opportunities would hurt less. all of the overexaggerated musical hating that we see on screen is overcompensation. he can fool the audience. he can fool himself. he can even fool me for 5+ years. but he can’t fool pokey.

[oneawkwardcookie]

you can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to 🎵 🎶

rules: hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping!

Tagged by @prodigalleverage, who is a complete sweetheart for always indulging my love of music related asks 💜💜💜

Zubeidaa - Main Albeli

Justin Bieber - Friends ft. Bloodpop

Arijit Singh - Kabira (MTV Unplugged)

Aly & AJ - I Know

Hamilton - Non Stop

Padmavaat - Ek Dil Ek Jaan

Mere Brother Ki Dulhan - Dhunki

Alex Gaudino - I’m In Love (I Wanna Do It)

Hamilton - Meet Me Inside

Caroline Polachek - Pang

McFly - Star Girl

1942: A Love Story - Ek Ladki Ko Dekha To Aisa Laga

Charli XCX - Track 10

Wo er all

Khakee - Wada Raha

The Wombats - Kill the Director

Doja Cat - Bo$$ Bitch

Mitski - Best American Girl

Blackstreet - No Diggity

Doli Saja Ke Rakhna - Bol Sajni Mori Sa

This was fun! I forgot I had downloaded wo er all (one of those youtube edits of Oasis’ Wonderwall where every other beat is missed). Where the song is from a Bollywood movie, I’ve put the movie name instead of the artist(s).

I’m going to tag some random people in this, from my activity and people who’s URLs I can recall (not even sure I’m mutuals with a bunch of these): @benjisvictor, @ghostlyben, @magicinbardsong, @caecilius-est-pater, @chimbuckleys, @kajamitt, @paranoidbean, @novemberhush, @tkandbuck and @haileymatthewss. Obviously, if you’re not tagged above and want to do this, just say I tagged you :)

[lucemferto]

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT PH1LZA (or Why Philza is a Victim of Narrative Circumstance)

Heyo! Per request I am posting the script to my video of the same name here on tumblr. I must warn you that just reading the script will probably not give you the full experience, so I would encourage you to watch the video (linked above).

There might also still be a lot of grammatical errors in the text, because I don’t proofread.

Intro

LAST TIME ON LUCEM FERTO

Okay, so! I don’t want this to turn into a reaction channel OR a Dream SMP channel for that matter! [echo]

Well, I lied.

[Intro to “Luc is pretentious about the funny blockmen. Episode 2”]

I swear, I’m working on other stuff. It’s just that my dumb lizard brain has only capacity for one interest at a time!

So, something you might not know about me, is that I am on tumblr – who am I kidding, most of you will know me from tumblr. Before starting this whole YouTube thing, I thought that website died years ago – but as per usual reality proves me wrong. I’m also on Twitter and Reddit, but I get the most engagement on tumblr – by far! – and I need those sweet, sweet numbers for the serotonin!

Anyways, one of my favourite past-times on tumblr is to razz Philza Hardcore Minecraft – that’s his full name – for being a frankly awful father [clicking away] – wait, wait, no! Philza fans, this isn’t a hit piece on him, I promise! Please come back!

This is video is meant to be a companion piece to my previous video about Technoblade and the Doomsday event – you can tell by the shared nomenclature – so you should probably watch that one before you proceed. Unless you don’t want to, which is also perfectly understandable.

DISCLAIMER: This video is mostly about the character Philza plays on the Dream SMP. Whenever I talk about the content creator Philza, I will say so properly. Also, Spoiler Warning for Dream SMP Season 2.

… What is that? You’re wondering what the Dream SMP is? Well, if you had just watched the other video like I told you to do, you would know, because I explained it pretty well there. But in case you don’t know, here’s the cliff notes.

Dream SMP is the hottest New Media Series on Twitch right now! It has it all: gaslighting, child soldiers, Machiavellian political intrigue, Hamilton roleplay, desecration of the dead, shounen protagonists, SO! MUCH! AMNESIA! Filicide, furries, a red egg that’s definitely homophobic and teenagers inventing nuclear warfare. And it’s all done in Minecraft – yes, the funny block game where the only way to emote is to crouch.

And you say the perfect brief doesn’t exist!

Now, you might be wondering, why do I want to talk about this? Well, it’s because Content Creator Philza is one of least controversial internet personalities that I can think of. That man exudes pure comfort. So, it’s just very, very amusing to me that his character became one of the most controversial figures on the SMP, only outshone by Tommy and Technoblade.

And it’s not just amusing, it’s also extremely interesting! I want to dig deep to uncover and discuss the dynamics behind why that is. How did it come to this point? How did a man who appears genuinely so pleasant create a character that inspires so much discourse!

Now, if you watched that Technoblade video – like I told you to twice now! – you might know, that I am the resident character analyses hater of fandom! And that impression is false and slanderous! Don’t tell other people that I hate character analyses! I love them!

It’s just that, in the Dream SMP in particular, there is an abundance of character analyses! Every streamer has at least two very good essays written about them, exploring every possible angle to view their characters and backgrounds and everything. All I’m saying is: I don’t have anything to add on that front.

So, instead I want to pursue a different approach – something, that I feel is a bit underrepresented in the fandom! And I’m not just talking narrative analysis – that’s right, this episode we’re going even more pretentious! – I’m talking Transtextual Analysis!

Now, what is Transtextuality? Well, unfortunately it has very little to do with actual Trans people – #transrights, just in case that wasn’t obvious – but instead describes a mode of analysis with which to put – to quote French literary theorist Gérard Genette – “the text in a relationship, whether obvious or concealed, with other texts”.

Basically, you know how the L’Manburg War of Independence heavily quotes and borrows from the hit musical Hamilton? That’s transtextuality! A lot of the analyses surrounding how Tommy mirrors the Greek hero Theseus, who was invoked by Technoblade multiple times in the series, are already doing transtextual analysis! So, it’s really not something that’s new to the Dream SMP fandom.

But how does this apply to Philza and how he is looked at and judged by his parental skills? Well, there are multiple forms of transtextuality, two of which we will discuss today.

But before we continue, I gotta do that annoying YouTuber thing. I know these videos don’t look like much, but I spend a really long time making them. I work fulltime and I try my best to keep up, but sometimes I can’t. So please, like, subscribe, comment to give me some algorithm juice – I really need it – and most importantly share it! Share it with your friends, share it with your family – I’m sure Grandma is very interested in what I have to say about Philza Minecraft.

And I’m trying to be better! If I sound at all different for this video, it’s because I finally bought a new pop filter, so I can hit my plosives without it sounding like there’s a thunderstorm in my room. I hope it makes a difference; it was a very cheap pop filter, so maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it sounds worse – that would be bad!

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, CHILD NEGLEGT!

 Intertextuality: Why is Dadza?

You know what’s really interesting about the Dream SMP – aside from, you know, most things about it? Very few of the characters have concrete, fleshed-out backstories – and that’s pretty weird! In no other medium or genre could you get away with something like that – at least for long-form storytelling!

So, how does Dream SMP get away with this? Well, it’s because every character on the Dream SMP is basically a self-insert – and I don’t mean that in the “This character is based on me”-kinda way, but in the “This character, for all intents and purposes, is me!”-way. This, like many things that are fascinating about the Dream SMP, is owed to the fact that this series didn’t start off as a continuous drama – it started off as a Let’s Play.

And while we can talk about how someone’s on-camera/on-mic persona is in some ways a character, it’s still miles off of being an actual, fully-realized, separate character in a storyline.

This is where Intertextuality comes in.

Intertextuality is a subset of Transtextuality. It describes how the hypertext, which is the text, you’re currently engaged with, uses another text, the hypotext, to supplement itself. The interconnection the hypertext establishes with the hypotext, through stuff like allusion for example, uh-hum [Hamilton], can colour how an audience interprets the hypertext. Basically, Hamilton and Theseus are the hypotexts; the Dream SMP is the hypertext.

So, what does this have to do with backstory? Simple: The backstories of the characters in the Dream SMP consist basically of nothing but intertextual references. Through intertextuality their content effectively substitutes their character’s backstory.

You can see it everywhere. Wilbur’s and Schlatt’s relationship and rivalry is hugely enriched, if you are aware of their shared history like SMPLive, for example – I think anyway. I haven’t watched SMPLive, because … there’s only so many hours in the day and I cannot keep up with the Dream SMP and catch up on SMPLive and live a healthy life – which I already don’t do, so…

BadBoyHalo’s and Skeppy’s relationship, which has become the crux of the Crimson-Storyline of Seasons 2 and 3, is hugely supplemented if you know that they’re also very close as streamers and in real life.

Another great example of intertextuality is basically Technoblade’s entire deal. If you just look at him completely within the text of the Dream SMP and try to transplant his entrance to any other medium: It would be extremely weird! Like, he’s just this guy that comes in in the middle of a very climatic arc, no build-up, no explanation what his deal is, and he’s treated like he has always been there. In any other medium that just wouldn’t work – at least not without a flashback or some sort of exposition!

But because of stuff like Minecraft Mondays, the Potato Wars, his Duel against Dream and SMPEarth, we understand that he is a Big Deal!

Anyways, to bring all of this back to Philza Minecraft: What kind of hypotext informs how the audience sees his character? Well, this is where I will have to talk about SBI.

SBI is an acronym that stand for State Bank of India, the 43rd largest bank in the world and…

It also stands for Sleepy Bois Incorporated. Sleepy Bois Incorporated is a loose assembly of content creators, consisting of Philza, Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit and Technoblade. It is most well-known for its very endearing family dynamic – a dynamic that is frequently acknowledged and played up by the creators involved. Tommy is the youngest brother, Wilbur and Techno are the two older brothers and Philza is of course the dad. And when I say, it’s played up, I really mean it! Wilbur seems to be especially enamoured with the idea and leaves no opportunity untaken to bring it up – which we will come back to.

And I’m not saying that they’re faking this and this is somehow an act. While I know none of these people personally, it appears to me, that this is genuinely how they interact – if a little exaggerated for the streaming experience. Even when they’re not consciously playing into the family dynamic, their interactions still very much lend themselves to that interpretation by the viewers.

Philza especially just radiates Dad-Friend energy – so much so that it has become a huge part of his brand identity – yay, I can bring that back (check out my Christmas video if you want to hear me ramble about that). The nickname Dadza stuck even before SBI was a thing.

So, even if we completely disregard SBI – which we shouldn’t for reasons I’ll get back to – Philza has cultivated an image of strong paternal guidance. He is, in my opinion completely deservedly, regarded very positively. He is highly respected and in turn seen as a voice of reason.

All of this would eventually inform the hypotext of the character Philza within Dream SMP.

 Interlude: Before Dadza & November 16th

Okay, so now we have established that a) Dream SMP heavily hinges on intertextual readings by the audience to supplement character backstory and b) that Philza’s entire deal is that he’s the dad-friend – more specifically that he’s the dad of SBI (not the bank). I think you know where this is going.

So, yeah, ever since it was on the table that Philza could join the Dream SMP, it was immediately assumed that he would take on the paternal guardian role all these traumatized people on that server so desperately needed – and with good reason! Like I said before, the audience at this point was trained to take intertextual interpretations as basically canon or at the very least canon-adjacent.

I want to emphasize that this is most likely not done deliberately. I’m sure content creators Wilbur and Philza didn’t sit there and said: “Yes! We will rely entirely on the audience’s inclination to interpret our characters intertextually to define character Philza!”. Like, obviously that did not happen.

But it’s also important to remember that unlike with traditional media and the fanbases cultivated there, the separation between the Dream SMP and its audience is almost non-existent – and purposely so. The story events are streamed live, Chats are acknowledged in canon and even outside of livestreams creators are extremely involved with the fandom. So, the weight of fan-expectations is equally amplified and will more likely be incorporated into the writing process. Case in point:

[Wilbur “I miss Philza”/Philza about Wilbur]

During Wilbur’s villain arc, even before his official involvement, Philza became a prevalent point of discussion. The hope that he would be the one to snap Wilbur out of his downward spiral was not only wish-fulfilment on behalf of the fans; it also very much played off of the intertextual reading of the SBI-dynamic in relation to the Dream SMP.

Of course, this still doesn’t make Philza and Wilbur canonically blood-related – but it definitely used the “paternal”-dynamic of SBI to build-up tension and drama.

And that ultimately brings us to November 16th. The Grand Finale of Season 1 and Philza’s first canonical appearance on the SMP.

Now, for this I want to pull back from the transtextual analysis and talk about simply narrative analysis: What is Philza’s narrative purpose on November 16th?

Philza serves as the last threshold on Wilbur’s Villain’s Journey – to appropriate Vogler’s version of the monomyth for a minute here – he is what Vogler calls the “Threshold Guardian”. He is the last enemy the Hero faces before completing his quest – in this particular case Wilbur’s quest is to blow up L’Manberg. Multiple people have at this point tried to dissuade him from this course of action: Tommy, Quackity, Niki and others. So how come this Philza moment is not redundant in terms of dynamics compared to these prior scenes?

Well, it’s through our intertextual understanding of Wilbur’s and Phil’s relationship. Because Philza does not just occupy the role of the Threshold Guardian – he is also implicitly the Mentor. Before Phil there was no character in the storyline that held a higher position of moral authority than Wilbur – Dream and Schlatt, while at points more powerful in terms of actual authority, were never positioned by the narrative as Wilbur’s superiors in the same way as Wilbur was to Tommy, Tubbo or even Niki.

Before November 16th all challenges Wilbur faced were from people narratively subordinated to him. But that trend is broken with Phil. That is why he is the Threshold Guardian, why this confrontation is at the climax of Wilbur’s arc. Because Phil is the last thing tethering Wilbur to whatever morality he held before his villain arc; Phil is the last, moral obstacle Wilbur has to discard before gaining his reward.

And, just a quick sidenote, because I’ve seen it around the fandom a bunch: When I’m referring to Wilbur denouncing his morality, I’m using that in terms of narrative analysis. I’m mentioning it, because Wilbur’s character can very easily be read as mentally ill or neurodivergent and some people have – rightly! – pointed out that the excessive vilifying when talking about his character is … problematic, to say the least.

So, I just want to make clear, this isn’t a character analysis, I’m being purposely broad when talking about Wilbur and Phil.

In the end, Wilbur takes that final step and gets his “reward”: As his final request his mentor takes his life and vanquishes the evil – the dragon of Wilbur’s story slays the dragon of L’Manburg. It’s very Shakespearean in its tragedy – but beyond the larger theatrics it’s not really used to further characterize Phil – at least in the context of Season 1. There’s not a lot of focus on his characters internal conflict during November 16th.

Phil, like Techno, is very utilitarian in how content creator Wilbur writes him: He serves as a moment of hype; an obstacle Wilbur has to face; a participant in the tragic climax of Wilbur’s character and ultimately takes on his implicit and expected role of mentor and guiding figure to the rest of L’Manburg.

I think not a lot of people talk about how Philza does not join Technoblade during November 16th. He takes the side of L’Manburg – he fights against the withers and he joins Tommy, Tubbo and the others at the L’Mantree, thus framing him as loyal to the L’Manburg administration – even though Season 2 would make his loyalty to Techno central to his character. But more on that later.

What’s also important about November 16th is that this is the day when the general intertextual interpretation became canonized text.

[You’re my son!]

Wilbur is made Phil’s canonical, biological son. The intertextual interpretation of SBI as it pertains to these two characters on the SMP was completely reinforced by the narrative. Or to put it in Fandom terms: The headcanon became actual canon. At least when it came to Wilbur … but what about Philza’s “other” children?

Well, that leads to our second form of transtextual analysis:

 Paratextuality: Is Dadza?

These titles are just getting better and better.

The Paratext is defined as all those things in a published work that accompany the text. It comes in two forms: One of them is the Peritext, which are non-diegetic elements directly surrounding the text – like chapter titles, author’s notes, and stuff like that. Translated to the medium of the Dream SMP, it would be stuff like this:

[Examples]

And, trust me, I could make a whole separate video about how people on the SMP use their peritext as a tool for storytelling – I’m looking at you, Ranboo – but that’s not what we will talk about in the context of Dadza.

Instead, we will focus on the second form of Paratext, the Epitext, which consists of all authorial and editorial discussions taking place outside of the text. That’s stuff like interviews, private letters or J. K. Rowling’s Twitter Account – you know, before she decided to become a full-time asshole.

[Wilbur: Transrights]

After Season 1 ended, Wilbur indulged pretty heavily in providing epitext for the Dream SMP, something he had not done prior to November 16th. His paratextual additions ranged from the playful, like assigning DnD alignments to various SMP members, to the extremely impactful, like the whole three lives system!

You probably think, you know where this is going. Wilbur provided some epitext about how Tommy and Techno either are or are not biologically related to him … and I have to be honest I thought that too. But then I began looking into the impenetrable web that is the SBI-canon on the Dream SMP and found this!

[Ghostbur explains family]

So, it wasn’t paratext, it was just straight text. Said in character, in canon, without any implication that we the viewers should question this. The text of the SBI family dynamic was explicitly linked to Dream SMP-exclusive lore, namely Fundy being Wilbur’s and Sally the Salmon’s son. This is as clear as Philza’s anguished declaration on November 16th in establishing the intertext as text. And because Wilbur also had a very heavy hand in the discussion of paratext around that time, it gave his character’s words even more “canonical” weight. Metatextually speaking, this very much read like the author giving exposition through his character – exposition that we should understand as reliable.

And, by the way, before I continue, I need to give a huge, huge shoutout to kateis-cakeis on tumblr, I hope I pronounced that right, who was just so quick in providing me with these crucial clips. Without him I would have looked for days because these people don’t archive their shit! And the Dream SMP Wiki was NO help, by the way! I love what you guys do, but stuff like this belongs in the Trivia section on characters’ pages!

Anyways, basically during the entirety of early Season 2 the SBI family dynamic was basically canon to the SMP. Sometimes it was only alluded implicitly, again letting the intertext fill out the rest.

[Philza clips]

But just as often it was just explicitly talked about – both in the text and in the paratext.

[Fundy clip/Wilbur “Twins” clip/Tommy clip]

So, I know what you’re thinking: “Why is this part called paratext, if the entire family tree is just textual”. Well, that last clip might give you a hint, as to what I will talk about. Notice how Tommy, one of the people most directly impacted by the canonization of SBI lore, is both unaware of and seems generally unenthused about it, to put it nicely? Well, that would soon turn out to be a much bigger deal than anyone could have imagined as he wasn’t the only one.

[Technoblade decanonizes SBI]

Yeah …

This happened on 20th of December. Regular viewers of this channel will remember that I put out a 90-second joke video, where I complain about this very development. And while I was mostly kidding around, the core idea is still true. The paratext provided by Technoblade and established text were in direct contradiction with one another – and that brought a lot of confusion into the fandom. Confusion, that would soon be followed by frustration.

Because Techno only decanonized himself as part of the SBI family dynamic – but what about Tommy and Tubbo, the latter of which was incorporated into the dynamic exclusively within the lore of the Dream SMP. Was this still canon or wasn’t it?

What followed was a muddled mess of contradictions, intertextual implications, text and paratext in conflict with each another. It was for the most part inscrutable to figure out how Tommy and Philza related to one another. I’ll spare you every comment made about this – mostly because I want to spare myself from looking for all of them.

In the end, the current status is that their familial relationship is … unclear. Philza said, again in paratext, that it’s ultimately up to the writers to decide, whether or not Tommy is his son … which, I personally think he and Tommy should be the ones to establish that, but I’ll come back to that later.

But why is all of this important anyway? Why would this ambiguity create such an uproar, such controversy – especially when it comes to Tommy’s character? What makes Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship such a target for discussion in the fandom?

Well … this is where we will have to talk about the storyline of Season 2.

Interlude II: Tommy’s Exile and Dadza in Season 2

Okay, Season 2. This is where the spoilers are, so I will just sneakily drop this again. It took me five seconds to google this gif and I will milk it for every penny it’s worth!

At the beginning of Season 2, Philza’s narrative role has not changed much from where Season 1 ended. He is in L’Manburg dispensing earthly wisdom, being a paternal figure to Fundy, Ghostbur and Tubbo, helping with the nation’s rebuilding efforts; just generally occupying the role of the mentor.

[clips]

And then came … the Exile. The Exile Arc took place between December 3rd and December 15th during Season 2 of the Dream SMP. It revolves around TommyInnit getting exiled from L’Manburg and slowly getting psychologically tortured and broken down by Dream. It’s a really great arc, at least in my opinion, that explores and deepens a lot of Tommy’s character relationships, whether that be Tommy and Dream, Tommy and Tubbo or Tommy and Ranboo. One relationship, however, is noticeably missing.

So, yeah, Philza spends basically the entirety of the exile doing pretty much nothing of consequence. And that’s not a problem specific to him – One big criticism I would levy against the Exile Arc is that a lot of characters are left spinning their wheels. Which is why we get zany stuff like El Rapids, Drywaters, Eret’s Knights of the Roundtable, Boomerville – anyone remember Boomerville, that was a thing for 5 seconds, wasn’t it? – basically a lot of storylines are started and then unceremoniously dropped. Now, I will talk more about this, when I make a video about Season 2 of the Dream SMP … in ten years, look forward to it.

In the case of Philza, this inaction was especially damning, because at this point it was still a considered canon that he was Tommy’s dad. So, the fans were left with a situation, where just a few weeks prior Philza was occupying a paternal role for Fundy and Ghostbur … but now, that his youngest son was in a very concerning predicament – to put it lightly – he was nowhere to be found.

So why is that?

Well, the most obvious answer is that Dream and Tommy didn’t write him into the storyline. We’ve seen that Tommy wasn’t particularly interested in exploring a familial relationship to Philza, at least at the time. And it would just not fit in with what Dream and Tommy tried to do with the Exile Arc: they wanted to tell the story of Tommy being isolated, completely under Dream’s mercy, slowly worn down and manipulated. If Philza had been constant presence for Tommy during that time, it would have definitely shifted the narrative focus. That doesn’t mean that they couldn’t have done that, it’s just a matter of fact that they didn’t.

This also reveals another truth about content creator Philza’s character work, that I think is extremely crucial: He takes what the writers give him. Outside of a few choice moments, he doesn’t seem particularly interested in expanding or even solidifying his character on the SMP.

What I’m saying is that he is very go-with-the-flow: Wilbur wants to enact a Shakespearean tragedy? Philza’s up for it. Fundy wants him as a parental figure and mentor? Philza’s here for him. Tommy, conversely, doesn’t want him as a paternal presence, even though it would make sense for Philza’s character, as it was established so far, to be there? Philza will oblige.

The reason I’m mentioning this is because, while Tommy and Dream were unwilling to utilise Philza in their storyline, someone else was more than happy to. Which leads us back, like it always does, to everyone’s favourite Porky Pig-kinnie in a crown: Technoblade.

Technoblade and Philza, from everything I’ve seen of them, seem to be very good friends – and they share a lot of history even outside SBI. So, it’s commendable that they would collaborate on a storyline together.

A consequence of that, however, is that Philza’s narrative purpose shifts completely with very little transition. His entire character changes from being the Mentor-figure of L’Manberg to being pretty much exclusively defined as Technoblade’s ally; his man on the inside. It is a very sharp turn from the end of Season 1. Their relationship is once again informed via intertext – this time the Antarctic Empire on SMPEarth serves as the hypotext – but there isn’t a huge effort made to smoothly integrate that aspect of Philza’s character into the larger narrative framing around him.

How much the narrative utilisation of Philza has shifted can be very easily observed through the Butcher Army event on December 16th, a story event that I like less and less the more I think about. Here Philza is used to show just how corrupt and violent Tubbo’s administration has becomes. He is no longer the respected mentor, he is now the stand-in for the oppressed populace, similar to Niki’s role in Season 1. On a narrative level, he is here to prove a point.

If you’ve seen my Technoblade video, you know how I feel about … just that entire storyline, so I will not reiterate too much on it. I just want to make clear that I’m not principally against this development – if they wanted to truly explore Tubbo going down a dark path and getting corrupted by power, so much so that he would even treat the person who effectively raised him like a prisoner, I would be extremely here for it, I cannot stress that enough.

The problem I have is that it’s just so sloppily done. It is not coherent with how these characters behaved and, more importantly, how they were narratively framed prior to the Butcher Army event. Fundy gets one token line about Phil being his Grandfather – a far cry from the very emotionally complex relationship they had established at the beginning of Season 2 – and Phil then callously disowns him.

The major problem simply is that we don’t see how Philza changes from Mentor-figure to embittered, oppressed citizen. And there was enough time to build to that. During the entirety of Tommy’s exile Tubbo was pretty much spinning his wheels and Quackity and Fundy were opening up plot cul-de-sacs that didn’t end up going anywhere. This is time they could have spent on developing their relationship to Philza and the dark path they were going down – but again, Season 2 video.

There is not much to say on Philza’s narrative purpose and framing beyond the Butcher Army event. He remains pretty much exclusively Techno’s consigliere with his role as Mentor to L’Manburg a distant memory. He has some cute character moments with Ranboo, because content creator Philza is just big dad-energy whether he wants to or not, and whenever he and Ghostbur share a scene suddenly the narrative remembers that there are people other than Technoblade that should exist in Philza’s inner world. But aside from that, Philza’s storyline in Season 2 remains … pretty definitive is the nicest way I can put it.

Most importantly his relationship with Tommy continues to be completely unexplored – whether by chance or choice – and that combined with ever vaguer paratext leaves “Dadza” in a very peculiar situation.

 Conclusion: Is Dadza a Good Dadza?

So, the question to end all questions. The big, obnoxious text, that I will probably have put in the thumbnail – I haven’t made it yet, but I know myself. The honest answer is: I couldn’t tell you.

I have, in the past, been expounding the virtues of narrative analysis. That is because I feel that Narrative Analysis and Textual Analysis, like in this video, can provide certain tools that Character Analysis lacks. Often times I see people trying to get at a writing problem or query and getting frustrated because they’re not using the toolset, they need to figure out what they want to figure out.

But I’d be a hypocrite if I pretended like everything could be solved through the modes of analysis I prefer. And I think the Dadza-issue is exactly such a case.

I set out to explore why the Philza-Tommy-“Dadza”-relationship has become so controversial. It’s a combination of expectations build up through intertextual readings, that were partly canonized – something that is very common for the Dream SMP – conflicting pieces of paratext, which only serve to muddle the issue further and a text that is not only completely uninterested in actually exploring Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship – as it stands right now they might as well be strangers, narratively speaking – but also completely changes Philza’s narrative purpose as it relates to characters like Fundy or Tubbo about half-way through with little to no transition.

That is why I say, that Philza’s character is a victim of narrative circumstance. Because unwittingly, through all of these factors and decisions, there is not coherent reading of Philza that frames his parental skills in a particularly kind light.

The question of how we can judge Phil as a paternal figure ultimately falls within the purview of the character analysis – and that’s a very multifaceted issue, highly dependent on which POV you focus on and how you interpret the other characters in that POV’s periphery.

To put my cards on the table, I think that Philza is a very flawed father/father-figure – and I find that absolutely okay. Flaws are the spice of character building. He is not Cinderella’s Evil Stepmother – but he’s also definitely not Mufasa. If we were to read Philza as a paternal figure, then he would have made a lot of mistakes and decisions to the detriment of his “children” – least of all everything that happened on Doomsday.

But I also have sympathies for Philza fans who are tired of the Dad-Debate and would like to have his character judged independent from his relationship to Ghostbur, Fundy, Tubbo and Tommy.

Ultimately, to bring it all to a point, I’d like to end with saying, that I think that Philza, out of all the characters on the SMP, has the potential to be on of the most intriguing, multifaceted ones. There are all of these different patches of story, character moments and narrative and transtextual implications, that, if brought together, could create a beautiful tapestry of the character Philza.

You have his relationship with Techno, which holds the potential for so much emotional conflict and vulnerabilities, you have his time as mentor of L’Manburg, which is just criminally underused; the complex relationship between him and Ghostbur/Wilbur; and – for me, personally – most intriguingly this weird, almost uncomfortably distant non-relationship with Tommy. That last one is intriguing to me, because it contrasts just so much with our intertextual understanding of the characters and streaming personas – and it just holds the potential for so much conflict, so much drama, so much angst. Which I live for!

And, yes, I do believe that most of this is narrative happenstance, that this was largely not intended by Philza or really any of the writers. It’s just what happens when hybrid-roleplay-improv a long-running, livestreamed storyline in Minecraft.

But I want them to realize the potential they have on their hands, because it could – with barely any adjustments – turn Philza from a victim of narrative circumstance to a champion of it!

 Outro

Thank you so much for watching this video. Usually, I don’t record outros this standard, but after this beast of a video I felt it necessary. I hope that whether you’re a Philza fan or a Philza critical or just completely uninvolved in the whole thing, there is at least a little entertainment you could get from this.

I want to take this opportunity to say that my next few videos will probably not be Dream SMP related – a sentence which undoubtedly lost me a bunch of subs – simply because I don’t want to burn out on it. I genuinely enjoy watching the SMP and being exhausted by it would be something I wouldn’t want to force on myself.

But who knows what will happen? The Karl Jacobs video was something I did spur of the moment because the idea just came to me – so I can’t guarantee that the next video won’t be a three-minute joke about Purpled or whatever.

Anyway, my concrete plans for future Dream SMP videos are essays on Season 1 and Season 2 as well as one for Tales from the SMP.

Before that I have a longer video in the works, which I’ve already teased a bunch, so I hope it will finally be finished sometime. And I also may be working on something … eboys-related? Maybe. I’m not making any promises!

[uwumessenger]

random headcanons i have for each om! character teehee

hi it's been a while since ive posted some hcs bc uni has been kicking my a$$! luckily i only have a few papers to tidy up and im done. here r some hcs for each obey me character that ive accumulated over the past few months wink wonk

most are random but some constants you'll find are what i think they smell like, languages they can speak (other than their native (demon/angel) and eng/jp), and music tastes !

lucifer

i have a strong feeling that he showers twice a day: in the morning after waking up and at night before going to bed

his cologne is probably the type that will last in an elevator for like a week after he uses it once. i dont think this mf ever smells like anything other than his cologne

has a secret folder on his phone of semi-nudes and other scandalous pics from when he felt sexy at the time omg

aside from demon language/eng/jp he can speak french and knows latin

listens to classical stuff yea but he also listens to diavolos mixtapes (re: diavolo's section)

not a fan of sweets but will eat sweet things when craving

really bland sense of humor...borderline cringey 😭✋🏻

mammon

has gone to google images and searched for "inspirational quotes tumblr" "gold aesthetic tumblr" & "relatable crush post tumblr" then reposts it onto his socials or just taps thru them and giggles bc he relates

his cologne doesnt last as long as lucifers and probably smells common. he has to reapply a lot but it's a people pleasing smell. it's cheaper hence the constant reapplying

he probably does have an expensive bottle but is the type to totally overspray...eek

he is canonically a car guy 🥲 and probably tells the one in his room good morning & good night + kisses the hood every once in a while. has tons of car magazines

he doesnt really speak other languages but has attempted to learn spanish before

listens to whatever is on the radio. doesnt rly stan anyone but he eventually will listen to mc's playlist and mc's playlist ONLY

levi

lurks on mc's socials ALL THE TIMEEEE like he will rewatch ur stories and scroll thru ur feed and overanalyze ur tweets/rts or blog posts. if ur mc isnt the type to use sns much he still googles ur name all the damn time just to find any sites u might be on fjdjdjdjskks

probably streams on whatever youtube or twitch devildom site equivalent there is, but only has like 40 or so followers. which he is okay with!

until he sees someone else who gets more attention than him. then the envy starts kicking in bad. especially if they suck 🧍🏻‍♀️

classic gamer boy smell. you know, sweat, tears, must, and (sometimes) axe deodorant. lucifer has to do a scent check before he goes out to any event & lets him use his cologne. how sweet!

kpop stan!! more girl groups than anything and his ults are probably GIRLS GENERATION, wonder girls, twice, loona, & red velvet

cried when ioi disbanded and refused to leave his room. the only thing u could hear was downpour on loop at full blast

can also speak korean & communicate in echolocation like dolphins 😏

satan

listens to country music you cant change my mind

smells like whatever environment he is in. he doesnt really have a designated smell just throws some deodorant on and goes about his day.

he's sooooo bad at driving...gets road rage way too often so his license has been REVOKED

but hes totally a backseat driver. needs to be sedated on long trips

do not let him watch finding nemo when luke asks to watch it. it's not worth it. he will cause mass destruction.

if he was a human or lived long term in the human world he totally has the ability to be a doctor

is studying as many languages as possible, but he mostly knows latin & french & german etc etc. wants to learn all the dead languages out of curiousity

asmo

dont think this mf has ever held down a relationship. ever

he doesnt compromise much & is not willing to change his lifestyle to fit an s/o into it. you keep up with how he lives or it just isnt meant to be (but dont worry! he'll eventually learn...maybe,,,,)

has the hardest time out of everyone when it comes to breaking bad habits

his smell varies bc he uses a variety of perfumes (whatever is the most popular at the time) but he probably sticks to floral and fresh scents. he never uses generic people pleaser scents like mammon

listens to electropop, mainstream pop, & some alternative rock

as for languages he too knows french, spanish, italian, etc. in general, if it's a romance language he knows it!

opposite of lucifer in the sense where he loves sweets and will refrain from eating too many bitter things

i think we all know that asmo is the biggest rockstar of the group! he's probably been in a boy band at least once, but now he makes his own music

has tried to teach mammon how to sing once. ended up in a broken piano and bleeding ears...

beel

i feel like he is SO SHY

like unless ur close to him he will not start conversations or anything

i think he listens to r&b a lot ! and jazz 😎 maybe rock as well

smells like ur typical athlete with undertones of wet wipes. he carries them around bc he likes to clean his hands before he eats & is prepared for when theres no sink nearby

he can drive and he drives really well. no rough turns, parallel parks perfectly, and never has problems with merging

driving with beel is probably really soothing. left hand is steering the other is gripping ur thigh 😫

dont think hes really fluent in any other language but hes probably semi fluent in korean because levi wanted beel to help him out

definitely know how to order food in practically every language tho HAHAHA

belphie

he reminds me of randall from monsters inc

smells kinda musty IM SORRY but not the way levi does hes more like the kind of musty u feel or smell when it's a shitty morning

but that's only because hes so lazy, when he cleans up hes like satan

has definitely murdered multiple people before. mc is not the first 😐✋🏻

with that being said belphie has been put into prison at least twice when visiting the human world, the mf had such a strong hatred for humans theres no way he never got into trouble before

lucifer probably broke him out and they used the pen thingies from men in black to erase everyones memory of that 🙄

dont think he listens to anything other than music that'll put him to sleep. really likes lazy song by bruno mars but thinks that bruno mars put too much effort into the song. should have been one acapella verse and then finish

similar to beel hes only semi fluent in one language, probably french bc of lucifer. doesnt remember much but knows a couple of lullabies and bedtime stories

the sandman used to be his bff until they drifted. they do, however, like and comment on each other's sns posts.

diavolo

once he found out who nicki minaj was he became her #1 stan

def an ariana grande stan too 😌

choreographs dances when hes stressed...idk just seems like a diavolo thing to do

also makes rly bad soundcloud rap music sometimes. turns to poetry when hes feeling emo but only lucifer knows this. barbatos is suspicious of him but doesnt have enough evidence to confirm.

his dad is like hudson abadeer from adventure time aka marceline's dad? something must have influenced him to want to unite the 3 realms + he would need the approval to do so, so his dad must be more chill than all the others before him 🧍🏻‍♀️ IDK ok anyway

currently going through his hamilton phase bc of mc. whether mc's intent was to get him hooked onto it or just to explain it bc of something he saw online, he tells everyone that he found out abt it bc of mc!

this man cannot drive his skills are only second to jumin han

not too fond of many languages but knows the widely spoken ones like spanish, mandarin, etc. if it's taught in high school he knows it

smells like a las vegas casino. not sure why but i feel like he does. but there's also an interesting & nice smell to him if he embraces you. it's a smell you cant quite identify. but it smells nostalgic, it's mysterious, and it's tempting.

barbatos

very calm demeanor but underneath hes WILD hes probably done everything at least once oof

he just has a lot of control and stability over himself (must be nice!)

on a more angsty note i feel like he might have had his heartbroken sO BAD IDK he is hurting and maybe that's why hes so willing to obey diavolo and not abuse his time lord power thingies bc he learned his lesson the hard way

mans is so smart he knows every language you could switch languages mid conversation with him and he wouldnt be thrown off. he'd probably start speaking it too.

BUT HE SPEAKS VIET P E R F E C T L Y

listens to the same stuff as lucifer but also likes eminem. likes the movie 8 mile but criticized it heavily

have you ever been to a chinese herb shop? naturally, he smells like that. his room probably smells like it too. he doesnt really have a significant smell like some of the others

when he bakes he smells like whatever hes baking tho

one of the few out of everyone listed to have been able to travel to literally everywhere

solomon

was probably on kitchen nightmares once, but only to get feedback from chef gordon ramsay. then he used his magic to prevent the episode from airing...

was in an orchestra, one of the best times of his life. played the violin. asmo watched him in the audience once, but didnt approach him until well after that performance.

he CANNOT sing. he can, however, rap.

doesnt listen to music. he listens to podcasts! but every now and then he turns on background music, but prefers it to be instrumental stuff

never wears sunglasses. also does not have a driver's license. cannot drive a regular car. could maybe fly an airplane.

due to his immortality he has learned almost every language to exist, but finds himself speaking mandarin the most. knows most dialects too

similar smell to barbatos but u can also smell some sunscreen on him too. like, generic beach day suncreen

he has a lot of pact marks, so he once had the idea to match foundation to his skin. it took him two weeks but he eventually perfected a combination. yes he will help u find ur perfect shade if u ask him to

simeon

another country music man. has also made a tiktok or two to that one song that goes "he cant even bait a hook." they are private tho

angel country music exists and simeon invented it

if he visits the human world and wears more causal clothing he probably tucks his shirt into his pants

wears a speedo at the beach i tell u, speedo at the beach

he can speak german...i can feel it

uses his pointer finger to type and holds the phone like 2 inches away from his face so sometimes his nose will push a key hence all his typos

has no signature smell. he simply smells like your favorite scent all the time. if multiple people are around him at once, everyone smells a different smell. it's pretty rad

"what does he smell like to himself?" u may be asking. hmm...a church? 💀

luke

his first pet was a goldfish and a few months before the exchange program happened, he was given a koi pond!

secretly likes hanging out with levi sometimes just to play with henry. makes him miss his pet fish back home

so his favorite movie is probably finding nemo and he threw a fit when nemo touched the butt

luke is probably learning german bc of simeon, though he'd like to learn more of the dead languages just for fun

i dont think he listens to music often or has any preferences, he just listens to whatever is playing on the radio

but he finds himself listening to the music mc listens to

smells like freshly baked goods all the time. or fresh laundry. but like, not combined. just depends on the day

[moonofthenight]

Skip a Beat

Part One

*

Credit for O’Knutzy goes to @lumosinlove

*

Thank you again, love @spookypotato

*

Same CW’s as before! Enjoy the little “date” ;)

Chapter Three Part Two

The not overthinking didn’t quite work out. He has been standing in front of his wardrobe for the last 10 minutes, thinking about what to wear. He thought about calling June, but that would be too embarrassing and his feet would fall off any minute so he just pulled out his favourite black mom-jeans, a white T-Shirt and threw it on. His hair looked good enough to go out, so he grabbed the gray jeans jacket and his white converse, as well as his keys, wallet and phone before he jogged down the stairs to get into his car.

Sid’s was a 15-minute drive away from his apartment and it looked like the typical Italian restaurant. It was warm inside and soft Italian songs could be heard over the chatter and laughter.

Leo and Logan were already waiting for Finn, sitting at their usual table in the back.  

“Harzy, over here!”

Finn turned at Logan’s voice when he stepped into the restaurant and he could see them waving him over.

“Harzy?”, he said when he was close enough to be heard and slid onto the bench next to Leo.

“We are professional hockey players, don’t expect us to not come up with 100 nicknames”, Leo said, bumping his shoulder playfully.

“You are what now?”

“Oh right, we didn’t tell you. Sometimes I forget there are people that don’t watch ice hockey. Yeah, we play for the Gryffindor Lions. I am a goalie and Logan’s a right wing.”

Finn looked very confused and Logan smiled.

“You have no idea what we are talking about do you?”

Finn shook his head.

“Come to a game with us. Then you will see”, Logan said with a genuine tone in his voice.

“Maybe.”

They ordered their food and drinks- or well, Logan and Leo ordered the food and drinks, both of them insisting to pick for him.

“How come you ended up in Gryff? Your accent sounds different.”

“You have time? It’s going to be a long story.”

Both boys looked at him expectingly. Finn didn’t know why he offered to tell them; he normally didn’t like to talk about it, but something about those two made him trust them.

“Well, I was born and raised in New York, lived there my whole life and it’s where I started dancing. I went to the All Star Studios as a child and eventually started studying Classical Ballet and Dance Performance as well as standard dances and I made my degree.”

“But- ugh, it’s still difficult to talk about it, but I was working too hard. I was at the top of my career and I pushed myself, didn’t listen to my body and as it was bound to happen, I injured myself. Badly. So badly that I needed to give up my career and well, I couldn’t stand to stay in New York, sooo I moved here. Sorry, that was probably not interesting for you.”

Finn’s eyes where everywhere but their faces, he felt a bit ashamed.

“Don’t be silly, we asked. I’m sorry about your injury”, Leo said with such a soft voice it made Finn want to cry.

He was about to respond, but was interrupted by the waiter.

“Alright boys, pizza tonno for all of you.”

Finn waited patiently for it to cool down, driving Leo and Logan mad. He eventually picked up a slice and instantly moaned when he took a bite, causing Logan to choke on his drink.

“Oh my god, this is delicious.”

When he opened his eyes again, both boys looked incredibly smug.

“Told you.”

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the food. By the time Leo spoke again, the pizza was almost finished.

“You know Lo, we are actually getting better at dancing. I’m looking forward to the wedding.”

“Me too, it’s going to be amazing.”

Logan took Leo’s hand, starring at him lovingly. Finn felt his heart sinking. Wedding.

“Oh, I- congratulations”, Finn pressed out with a tight smile.

Leo’s head snapped towards him.

“What? Oh no, our friends are getting married! Two of the team, you’ll love them.”

And suddenly, Finn felt like he could breathe again. He shouldn’t care, but he did and it was not good.

“Okay who is up for some cocktails?”, Logan said, clapping his hands once.

“Let’s pick one for each other!”

“Oh no”, Finn shook his head rapidly.

“Yes, absolutely.”

Before Finn could protest, Logan waved the waitress over to them.

“I pick one for Finn, Finn you pick for Leo and Leo you can pick for me but make a good choice.”

It was almost adorable what a scene they made out of this. All of them pointed secretly at the drinks, smirking. The waitress gave them a small nod and moved behind the bar.

“Let’s play 20 questions while we wait”, Logan said, looking Finn in the eyes, waggling like a puppy, “We will ask you 10 and you can ask us 10, okay?”

How could Finn say no to that?

“Fine. But I’ll start. How long are you playing for the NHL?”

“I’m only one year in but Lo has been playing for two.”

“So, you two met through hockey?”

“Yes.” Leo grinned, pressing a kiss to Logan’s knuckles.

“Oh, I never asked. How old are you?”

“I’m 24 and Leo is 19, the little baby.”

“Wait. How can you be 19 but be like, twice of Logan’s height?”

If looks could kill, Finn would be dead now, but Leo laughed loudly, throwing his head back, tears making their way over his face.

“Finn, you are on thin ice right now”, he managed to say between his laughter.

It made Finn laugh too and he blew Logan a kiss, who only scoffed in response.

“It’s cute.”

Finn regretted saying it, the warmth creeping up his neck, but Logan just smiled at him.

“Ehm alright, I have three questions in one next. What is your go to work out song, why and what do you normally do while listening to it?”

“I normally just press shuffle on my playlist because I am horrible at making decisions” Leo grinned, answering fast.

Logan thought for a while before giving his answer.

“I would say Guns and Ships from Hamilton because it’s hella motivating. I warm up to it.”

Finn gasped, his eyes starting to shine.

“You like Broadway?”, he practically screamed, getting really excited.

Leo groaned next to him.

“No. Not you too!”

Both heads snapped towards him, looking rather offended by what the blonde had said.

“But it’s so good!” they said in unisono.

Then looked back at each other and high fived over the table.

“Alright, next questions. Do you have siblings and how many do you have?”

Leo was the first to answer again.

“I am an only child but not spoiled! Looking at you Lo.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. I have three sisters; I love them all.”

Finn nodded, “Okay a difficult one. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

“Italy", both said at the same time.

“It’s a bit of a dream of ours.”

“Well, not so difficult as it seems. Last one! Favourite movie?”

“Tough. I’ll go with Aladdin”, Logan said.

“Aladdin?!”

“I grew up with three sisters, what did you expect?!”

Leo shook his head fondly.

“Mine is Pride and Prejudice.”

“Oohh, I love that one.”

Logan slammed his hand on the table.

“Our turn”, he said, grinning excitedly.

“What is your favourite colour?”

“Blue.”

“What did you want to be as a child”, Leo blurred out next.

“A dancer, actually. My grandma took me to the ballet every now and then.”

Leo looked at him, smiling.

“Dog or cat?”

“Dogs. Puppies.”

“You have one right in front of you.”

Leo and Finn laughed at that.

“Do you do anything else besides teaching to dance?”

“I’m studying English literature but just for funsies.”

“Left-handed or right-handed?”

“Right.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“I do. Alex, he is my older brother. Jesus why are you going through those so fa-“

He was cut off by the waitress for the second time this night.

“Three cocktails for the three gentlemen.”

Finn eyed his one skeptically when it was placed in front of him.

“I’m scared”, he admitted.

“Just drink it!”, Logan grinned wickedly.

He held it up, sniffed it first before taking a sip, starting to cough immediately.

“Logan! For fucks sake. I am a dancer; I don’t drink alcohol! You need to warn me. Fuck, is this gasoline?”

“No, tequila”, Leo laughed.

Logan was unable to breathe, let alone talk. He was bend over, laughing so hard he was nearly wheezing, causing the other two to laugh even more.

-----

Finn went home happy that night, laying in his bed, thinking about Leo’s curls and eyes, and dimples - god those dimples.

But right as he was drifting off to sleep another name popped up in his mind – Logan’s name.

Oh no.

[ckret2]

How far into modern music do you think Alastor would go? I can't imagine him listening to mondern pop, but maybe he would at least give a shot to things in the 50/60?? I just can't imagine him not having so many music opinions, all of them a bit out of date. Do you think that he thinks "queen" were promising upstarts? He loves music and, though not his type, wouldn't he at least listen to a bit¿?

I do think Alastor actually kept up with music for a while after his death—and with tech too, at least the tech that interested him. In life, he was on the cutting edge—he didn't just use the newest, hottest technology, he worked with it, he was a pioneer in a completely new field of media and so deeply enmeshed in the industry that it formed the basis of his soul's identity in death. Going from "I'm so cutting edge you'll bleed if you touch me" to "if it wasn't invented before the 26th of December in 1933 at 3:12 p.m. I will hiss like a vampire exposed to sunlight if you try to make me use it" is a harsh change, and I don’t buy it. It makes more sense if we assume there must have been a transition period during which he lost his enthusiasm for keeping up with the latest and greatest and slowly withdrew into the past.

Same goes for music. When he first arrived, he probably soaked up new music like a sponge. What about beloved musicians who had died too young—how many of them had ended up in Hell, and had they produced new music since they died? What strange mutations of jazz were cropping up down here where people who were familiar with the earliest iterations of the genre were trickling in and it had evolved and progressed in near isolation from the latest developments in the living world? Are there medieval bards playing covers of "Royal Garden Blues" on the hurdy-gurdy? Who else has played new versions of songs he knows? Who does he get in contact with in the next few years to ensure he gets a steady supply of new songs by his favorite artists still in the living world, either in the form of smuggled-in phonograph records or new arrivals who learned the songs and can now share them in Hell? What songs that have been forgotten for centuries can he learn? What musical genres are unique to Hellish culture? Where are all the artists and styles and genres he's interested in going next?! He's got to find out!

I've got two different headcanons for when that changed.

In the fic verse I'm writing, due to Circumstances, Alastor spent roughly all of the 70s being a depressed lump and the 80s in the Cannibal Colony. Those years where he withdrew from the world are when he stops keeping up with both technology and music. By the time he starts trying to engage with broader Hellish culture again, it’s been a couple of decades, everything on the radio sounds different and weird, and rather than trying to catch up he just kinda defaults back to what he’s used to, which peters out in the mid-60s.

In less-fic-verse more-canon headcanons, I think it was a gradual tapering off over the same time period. I’m restraining myself from going all The Psychology Of How Humans Develop Their Tastes In Music, but the short version is that, VERY BROADLY, people’s tastes tend to develop & solidify in adolescence/young adulthood—anything that came before then is old-fashioned and boring and anything that comes after that is weird and sounds like noise. Alastor, who’s All About Music, can keep up with new trends longer, but slowly the newest hottest sound will evolve out of what he’s able to hear as Good Music. Just, over the years, there will be fewer and fewer new musicians that are playing in a way that he likes. I figure it’ll be about the 70s before all the popular music makes him go “eh, they don’t make it like they used to,” and from there he sticks with what sounds good to him.

Now, in either one of these scenarios, I think there’s still some modern music that he’ll enjoy, but for the most part it’s going to be music that sounds closer to what he’s familiar with. So like, swing revival as a genre. Generic lounge jazz would bore him, and so would jazz of the “pushing so hard on the boundaries of music that you have to be neck-deep in the last 60 years of jazz history just to understand what they’re doing” variety, but modern big band-style jazz would appeal. He might listen to some modern ska when it swings more toward the “big brass sections” side of things rather than the “punk rock” side of things. He’d dislike electro swing that’s like “chops up songs he heard in the 30s and sets them over a drum machine” but he’d like electro swing that’s like “composes original modern swing that’s good enough to make up for the fact that there’s a synthesizer in the background.” Vintage style covers of modern songs would appeal to him, and no I’m not talking about “Postmodern Jukebox” as if they’re the only folks on the planet who’ve ever done that, I’m talking about “Alastor goes to a jazz club twice a month to join jam sessions and sometimes the musicians there go ‘hey we heard this great new song on the radio, listen to this’ *two demons play Uptown Funk on a sax and a piano.*”

And I think he’d put in an effort for musical theater no matter WHAT genre it’s in. We see him hear Charlie’s song once and immediately perform a cover of it, and Charlie’s song is definitely way outside of the kinds of genres he’d be inclined to listen to, except that it’s musical theater style. So—would Alastor listen to industrial rock? No. Would he watch and enjoy Repo! The Genetic Opera? Hell yeah. Would Alastor listen to hip hop? No. Would he watch and enjoy Hamilton? Hell yeah.

Musical theater might be the best way to ease him into modern music tbh. Get him into a few musicals he likes in spite of the modern sound and use them as a stepping stone to branch out to similar-sounding modern music.

As for Queen—honestly I don’t think he’d think about Queen. Almost half a dozen folks now have asked me specifically about that—but what about Queen tho, do you think he’d at least think Queen is good?—and like I just don’t think he’d care lmfao. Why is Queen always the first and only band people wanna know his opinion of? He’d like that the music video for “Radio Gaga” uses clips from a movie he saw while he was alive, and the lyrics would secretly make him a little emotional, but he’d dislike the song itself because they couldn’t even be assed to have a real human play the drums; and for their other songs he’d be like “yeah, that’s music.”

[codename-adler]

Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt.IV

In times of college finals, aftg is my coping mechanism of predilection. hope it helps some :)

>> Table of Contents,TW and other parts here!

i’ll let you guess what Kevin and Juliet chose for their project

oh, yes

the letters of Hamilton, Eliza and John + Hamilton: The Musical

i will fight you on this

at first, when Juliet suggests it, Kevin stares at her so hard bc really?? a musical??

but then she lends him the 50$ leatherbound official book of the musical (you know the navy blue and beige one? you know what i’m talking about, right?) and reads it all in one evening and wow

lin-manuel miranda? genius. ron chernow? Genius. alexander hamilton? Dumb Genius.

oh yeah and Juliet? Absolutely mind-blowing genius.

as Andrew & Neil grow closer and the match agaisnt the Ravens rounds the corner, Kevin finds himself looking more and more forward to the time spent at the library with Juliet

she is just so focused on their project and so oblivious as who he really is and doesn’t really care if sometimes he is more anxious, if freaks over everything to be perfect, if he babbles on&on&on&on about any bit of history he discovered

she’s just there, smirking, stiffling her laughs and asking for more

they’ve exhanged phone numbers and she installed snapchat on his, and although he never sends her anything, she always has a short video and a funny caption that pop up from time to time; they’re that little reminder that the world goes on outside of exy and that he exists outside of exy

she introduces him to funny videos and he didn’t know absolute dumb shit could make him snort??

his favorite is the peanut butter baby

at first the Foxes give him this judgemental look when he ugly-snorts in the locker room or at Eden’s, but eventually they just get that glint in their eyes as if they were in on the jokes

sometimes, Juliet’s so focused on writing down bullet points in her notebook, peeling the skin off her lips, so unaware of Kevin’s personal hell of a life, that he just wants to spill out everything

although he’s not sure if it’s because he wants her to know him and stay, or because he wants her to reject him and therefore spare himself the trouble of getting attached...

she takes the decision for him

on a Thursday afternoon, on their planned study session, she doesn’t show up

she doesn’t answer her phone either

he even tries out a completely blacked out snap with “r u alive?” in caption

no answer

he gives her space, sending her occasional cat videos he thoroughly researches

if she watches them, she doesn’t say anything

on Monday afternoon, she doesn’t come to class

that’s when the panic Kevin’s been reigning in just... bursts

what if it’s Riko? 

what if it’s the Master?

what if it’s Ichirou?

what if, somehow, it’s the Butcher’s people?

that afternoon’s practice is hell for the Foxes, Kevin is ruthless and an asshole and very agressive

Dan waits for him outside the boys’ locker room as all the other Foxes leave (not even Andrew and Neil want to wait for him)

“Spit out your goddamn problem before I tell Coach to bench you next game”

oh, how Kevin wants to cuss her out

and then he looks  at her face, ready to vomit words, when he sees her worrying her lips

just like Juliet

it shouldn’t be enough to make him tear up, but it does

he still manages to keep as much of the truth to himself as he possibly can

“My EAL partner isn’t responding to my messages or my calls and she didn’t even come to class today and it stresses me the fuck out and what if it’s like with Neil, Dan?” he says in one breath, trying to tear out the net of his racket

Dan recomposes her face and gets that very serious look, the one she usually gets when someone touches her family

“It’s not, Kevin. That’s over. We got Neil back, we got you back, you got Jean back. The team didn’t even know who that person was. The most info we’ve gathered is what you just told me now. Yeah there are some bets but it’s mostly for funsies, nothing even remotely serious. You wanna look for her?” she soothes him.

“I don’t even know...”

“She lives on campus?” she asks.

“I don’t- I don’t know, Dan. I spent months with her and I can’t even vaguely say where she lives! How fucked up is that?” Kevin yells.

“It’s not even remotely fucked up, Kevin. You should know that. Does she have instagram? twitter? Or like, facebook?” she questions some more.

“God, I don’t know. She only sends me stupid fucking videos and I never even respond like the goddamn asshole I am...”

“Shut up. We’re all assholes at the end of the road, ‘kay? You ain’t better or worse than others. Now she sends them to you in text or somewhere else?”

“Sometimes texts... Sometimes the yellow app, the chat one. Why.”

“Oh great, that’s great. We can locate her, with snapchat, if she forgot to turn off the sharing. And if you’re comfortable with that, too. I know you’re not a creep like that. You’re creepy sometimes, don’t get me wrong. But, not a creep.”

“Gee, thanks, Dan.”

“Hey, shush. You down or what?” she says, arching an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he answers, unable to make the fear go away without knowing for sure.

And so it turns out Juliet’s location is, in fact, knowable. Dan grabs one of Kevin’s shoulders as he leaves the court, squeezing her affection into her grip; he nods emotionally in her direction, as far as emotions can translate unto his face.

he doesn’t even know what he’ll do once he finds her, his brain is solely focused on the animated map that brings him closer and closer to Juliet

the more he progresses, the more he realizes he is far from Fox Tower, on a campus area he has never even seen

he stops before a decrepit building, old and moldy-looking

Jackie Kennedy Hall

student dorms? this shabby? she can’t possibly live-

except that she can, because there isn’t another building close and the map has brought him here, and he doesn’t really know her...

so Kevin straightens his shoulders, inhales deeply, and goes inside

he could go on and on and on about everything that is just wrong with the place, from the smell to the decoration, but he makes a beeline for the front desk (he’s lucky there’s even one)

he asks for a way to contact someone, flashes his press smile at the women behind the desk, gives up his ID in exchange for the room number

Juliet Grier, 418

stairs, stairs, stairs, stairs

heavy door, right, 412, 414, 416...

418

what, now?

Kevin hesitantly knocks once, twice

no answer

he knocks again and decides to speak up, in case she didn’t hear

“Juliet? It’s Kevin. Day. From EAL? Can I speak with you?”

still nothing

maybe she isn’t home... no, the map says she’s here. maybe she’s sleeping...

he decides to try one last time

“We really should finish that project, you know? I think we could both use the free time...” he says without his heart into it.

without surprise, no response still

he decides to take a loose paper from his sachel and writes down some words

Greetings Hi,

My friend Dan helped me look for you, but you don’t have to worry about your privacy; it’s because of the yellow app. You should turn that off if you don’t want other people to be nosy. 

You weren’t in class today. I’ll share my notes if you want them. But, you should come to class, it’s better. For learning. 

I’ll wait a few in case you’re asleep. 

Text me or call me or whatever when you’re ready.

- Kevin D. (your partner from EAL)

quick, efficient, to the point

Kevin slips the paper under the door, and waits

he refreshes the map too many times, to see if her location changed or if somehow there was a glitch

it stays put

he ends up sitting on the hallway floor, his back sliding down the wall

he catches up on a book for another class, checks exy stats and watches many, many videos of Jeremy Knox on the court and in interview

some students pass him with a nasty look, eyeing the lack of earphones on his phone

some other students walk by him and will themselves to keep going, because holy shit it’s Kevin Day in Jackie Hall

it’s at least an hour and a half before the doorknob slowly and quietly starts to click

Kevin was absorbed deep into whatever move Knox was making before scoring

the 418 door opens

Kevin gets up in one move, all things Jeremy Knox and exy forgotten

she’s loosely holding Kevin’s paper in one hand, the other clutching a large scarf that covers up the majority of her body

from what he can see, though, she’s wearing sweats from head to toe; her hair’s tied on the top of her head, but most of the curls escaped and it looks unwashed and her curls, dry

her skin’s turned pale, dark circles under her eyes, a haggard look in them, her cheeks stained with dry tears

Juliet looks terrible

“Hi...” Kevin attempts

she finally looks up from the paper and gives him a bored look that could rival Andrew’s

with a rough voice strained from cries and many days without speaking, she asks, “My EAL partner?”

“Well, yes. In case.”

“In case of what.”

“I-”

“I know who you are, Kevin.”

and isn’t that both his most ardent wish and his worse fear?

with that, she turns around and goes back to her dark room, leaving the door open behind her

is that... an invitation?

Kevin’s never been to another person’s place, apart from the Columbia house, Abby’s and Wymack’s

he reminds himself why he came in the first place and decides it would be a waste to leave now, right?

the small studio is a mess, much like its occupant

there are clothes everywhere, on the floor, on a chair, on the bed, on the desk

all the curtains are drawn, no light is on, the only source coming from Juliet’s laptop somewhere amongst her bedsheets

it’s like she made herself a nest and hasn’t moved from there for a long time

maybe even since last Monday, the last time he saw her

Kevin doesn’t understand the scene he has before his eyes

he’s never seen such apathy in someone that is not Andrew

and at this point, apathy is pretty much Andrew’s default state of being

not Juliet’s

Juliet is a soft glow, toothy grins, wild curls, countless jumpers, dumb jokes and references, color-coded notes, an organized mind, unwavering focus and determination, flowing words and warm, kind eyes...

so what is this?

then Kevin realizes he spoke aloud

and Juliet can only chuckle sadly, almost mockingly

“This? This is why I don’t have friends. This is why I don’t mix with people. This is why I’ll never amount to anything in life. This is my dirty laundry, both metaphorically and literally. This is it. That’s... That’s it. This is what I get,” she answers flatly

Kevin’s mind is spinning

he doesn’t understand

he needs to understand, though

“Explain it to me,” he says

Juliet looks at him like a brick just hit him on the head and made him speak Swedish

“Why.”

“Because, surely there’s a way to work with it.”

she laughs

it doesn’t reach her eyes, nor her lips or her cheeks

it’s just a desperate sound

it makes him think of Andrew again

and that gives him an idea, a gut feeling, if you will

“Can I try something out?” he asks

“Kevin... I can’t- I’m tired... It’s not a good idea... I’m tired, Kevin,” Juliet responds, pain noticeable in her voice and her movements slow

“I know, I- I know. Someone I know... He plays this game. It’s really not a game, it’s more like a communication thing. He calls it “A Truth for a Truth”.  In exchange for something I tell you, you tell me something. And in exchange for something you tell me, I’ll tell you something else. It’s made me... work through some things... before,” Kevin explains calmly

Juliet keeps on observing him from her bed, silent

“Look, can I just stay here to do homework? I have nowhere to go right now,” Kevin asks, almost blurting out “Please” before Andrew’s ghost caught it in his throat

she lies back down, burries herself in her covers, a silent “yes”

Kevin ends up falling asleep sitting on the floor, books open, head resting at the end of Juliet’s bed

he wakes up around 2 AM

he’s got multiple texts from Aaron and Nicky, one from Andrew, and one from Dan

“told everybody you spent the night at Coach’s. take care.”

he silently vows to thank her later

now he either really goes to Wymack’s to finish his night there, or... he stays exactly where he is

Juliet is still sleeping soundly

in a haze, he palms for a pillow or cushion, pulls his hoodie on and lies back down on the carpeted floor

he’s only awaken in the late morning when he brutally gets stepped on

“What the shit?? Kevin! How...???” Juliet yells

“Um, ow? No, no, don’t apologize so quickly. You just, you know, crushed my lungs and a couple of ribs, no worries, Jules!” Kevin groans

“Ju- you know what? I’m not sorry. Right now I gotta pee, so you better have a damn good explanation when I get back,” she replies and leaves her room to go to the bathroom at the end of the hall

instead of dread, Kevin feels calm about the upcoming conversation

he doesn’t prepare lies, doesn’t run away, doesn’t resort to assholery

he just stays put where he is on the floor, snuggles deeper into his hoodie, and waits for relief, for the truth

he waits for Juliet

[dobrikobx]

Daveed Diggs Isn’t That Hot||JJ Maybank

Summary: You and the pouges watch Hamilton

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was movie night at the château and it was your turn to pick the movie.

"Okay bitches we're watching Hamilton!"

You yell

You hear the boys groan while the other girls cheer.

"Ugh Y/N/N do we have to, it so long"

Pope complains

"Yup it's my turn and I didn't complain when you have made us watch all the Lord of the Ring movies so you can't complain about Hamilton."

You say smirking at him.

You walk over to the kitchen and pop popcorn for everyone and then walk to the living room and sit on JJ's lap.

"Hey babe you know there's a whole couch here?"

He says messing with you

"Yeah but the couch won't cuddle with me."

You say kissing his cheek.

"Okay okay lets turn it on."

Sarah said just as excited as you were.

As it starts you let out a little squeal and then put your full attention on the screen. Then Aaron Burr, Sir comes on. You sit up a little straighter giving the screen your undivided attention and as Hamilton and Burr walk into the bar.

"Ugh Daveed Diggs is the definition of perfection."

You exclaim as he pops up on the screen.

"Actually the definition of perfection is the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects."

Pope says

"Yeah, exactly Pope it would be easier for them just to put a picture of Daveed there save everyone a little bit of reading time."

You say not taking your eyes off the screen

"Are you crazy? Yeah, Daveed Diggs is hot don't get me wrong but, how are you taking your eyes off of Anthony Ramos?"

Sarah says looking at you bewildered

"Easy" you say looking at Anthony Ramos "okay well maybe not easy but Daveed is talking in French so I can't my eyes off of him."

"I think your both crazy. Lin-Manuel Miranda is standing right there."

Kie says (I don't know why but I feel like Kie would be attracted to Lin-Manuel)

"Daveed is way hotter than both of them."

"Aaron Burr is pretty hot."

Pope says you all nod in agreement but still defend your original man

"I think the guy who plays Mulligan looks pretty hot. So is the guy who plays George Washington."

John B adds

"You won't hear an argument from me there, John B, especially Washington."

You tell him

And that's how you spent the next few minutes arguing over which man was the hottest.

"All I'm saying is Daveed Diggs could get it whenever he wanted, no offense babe."

You say throwing a quick glance towards JJ.

JJ had been sitting there silently through the argument but you hadn't even noticed.

"Daveed Diggs really isn't that hot!"

JJ says loudly over everyone else. Everyone stops arguing and looks at him.

"What? It's true."

"Dude have you seen the man I'm straight but, he's hot."

Pope says and John B nods in agreement

"JJ are you jealous that Y/N thinks Daveed is hot?"

Kie asks teasingly

"No."

JJ says firmly wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. You knew he was jealous so you stop arguing over the Hamilton guys and just watch the movie. But then Jefferson had to come on screen with that damn magenta suit and you let out a playful wolf whistle. JJ sits there pouting until it's over.

"Babe are you still taking me home?"

"Get Daveed Diggs to."

He says only half playing

"JJ come on, don't be like that."

You say as you grab his hand and tell the other pouges bye.

"I love Hamilton I'm glad it was my turn to pick."

You say happily

"Do you love Hamilton or do you love to drool over Daveed Diggs?"

JJ says

"Eh why can't it be both."

You say thinking you guys were playing, til JJ grunts.

"JJ, I know you are not seriously upset over a man I have never met, who, might I add is twice my age."

You say getting slightly annoyed with the way he was acting.

"You didn't have to keep arguing that he was the hottest."

He said

"Oh my gosh JJ, even John B and Pope were arguing with us. Do you think John B and Sarah are having this argument right now?"

You say glaring at him

"No."

He says in a small voice

"Exactly and don't think I didn't see the way you were looking at Jazzy."

You say raising your eyebrows at him

"Okay fair enough."

“Besides while Daveed Diggs is very hot so are you and I love you more than I love Daveed.”

He leans down and kisses you before taking you home.

[dwaynepride]

staring out at the setting sun

summary: dwayne sees how close reader is getting to hamilton, and it worries him.

words: 3,845

warnings: spoilers for 3x11 and 3x24

tags: @stanathanxoox​ @pageofultron​ @6adb0y​ @thegoodlonelydalek​ @consultingdoctorwholock​ @starryrevelations​ @thebeckyjolene​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​

a/n: this is part 1 of a 2-part fic. both parts are based off of ‘setting sun’ by lord huron

PART 2

I been waiting for you to come,   Staring out at the setting sun     You been running around again       With that boy you call your friend.

As the music thumps against the walls, Dwayne struggles to move through the crowd of people. Tonight is probably the most busy he’s seen it in a long while, and even the team is having trouble dancing and getting refills on their drinks.

Figures the crowd would hit after wrapping up a case.

Finally, Dwayne reaches the bar and comes around the side. And you hadn’t noticed him yet - you were much too busy pouring drinks and giving people their food. So as Dwayne gets behind the bar, he thinks for a moment that he’ll be able to slip in and lend a hand before you can notice. Pass out a couple beers and prove that his help is needed.

His plan doesn’t quite work out, though. “Dwayne? Why’re you here?” You shout at him over the music.

He winces lightly at getting caught, but there’s no use stalking around now. Dwayne quickly pulls a beer from the ice and hands it to a man while taking his money. “It’s boomin’, tonight! Figured you’d need some help up here.”

And Dwayne already knows what you’re going to say. Still, it pulls a smirk to his lips to hear you say it, anyway. “You worked all day. You deserve to have some fun, not work even more.” You move past him to grab a couple more glasses, but when he looks over, Dwayne can see your smile.

It only emboldens him.

“Nah, I’m happy to help!”

“Dwayne...”

“Don’t forget, it’s my bar. I can always order you to let me help.”

Even over the music, he can hear your snort of laughter. But you finally give in, letting Dwayne handle one side of the bar while you work the other. And Dwayne was being honest, he really did want to help. But maybe he had a hidden agenda. Maybe he just wanted to spend some time with you, even if that means working your asses off.

You and him haven’t had much chance together, lately. Maybe that’s on him.

And yeah, he’s tired. Was almost half-tempted to stay behind in the office and catch up on some sleep, but Dwayne’s glad he decided against it. Working with you again, side by side - it was nice. Sometimes, you both brush up against each other running back and forth, trying to fill out orders and keep the bar patrons happy. Once in a while, someone from the team comes up and Dwayne notices you chatting with them, yelling over the music.

Though, Dwayne needs to be conscious of how fast he’s working. It’s not truly his fault if he gets carried away in looking at you - he just glances over at all the perfect moments. Your hair’s a bit crazy and you’re only dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt, but it’s more than enough to make him lose his focus.

Strangely, Dwayne can’t recall when he’s been this happy, recently.

It just seems like everything’s been so rough, as of late. Brody leaving the team, dealing with the FBI, learning how to work with Gregorio. And yet, none of that affects him, right now.

The rush lasts for a good few hours until the time winds down to midnight. The music is slower, the team had gone home, and it seems like the people of New Orleans were finally giving Dwayne chance to slow down and really appreciate being in your company.

He comes over to the far side of the bar, where you’re organizing the bills. “You’re doin’ a great job tonight,” Dwayne praises with a big smile. You jump a little, twist your head around, and immediately mimic his smile.

“Thanks,” you reply. “You really didn’t have to help out. I know you probably would’ve wanted to have fun with your friends.”

Dwayne just gives a light scoff at that. “Well, maybe I am having fun with a friend,” he says. You give him a teasing look and go back to counting the bills, but Dwayne really had meant that.

And he knows this isn’t the first time he made a impulsive decision to do whatever it takes to spend time with you. To try and fully understand why he gets such fierce butterflies in his stomach for the bartender he hired only months ago. And the thought of maybe trying to move things to another level....

Well, Dwayne’s much too afraid of losing a friend. And a damn good bartender.

“Chris was trying to telling me something earlier. Apparently Sebastian wants to become a field agent?”

Instantly, your quest elicits a bark of laughter from Dwayne. “Yeah, ‘pparently so,” he answers.

It’s your turn to laugh, head shaking lightly. “It’s hard to imagine him with a gun, fighting bad guys and stuff. What do you think about it?”

Your head turns once again to look at him. Dwayne has to focus on the question in order to speak, and he gives a shrug of his shoulders. “He’s smart. Quick thinker. Don’t see why he can’t be a good agent, with some training.”

“Right,” you reply slowly. And then your smile gets a bit more mischievous. “So, do you think I’d be good agent?”

Dwayne blinks once, and then a little mischievous smile of his own appears. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna be givin’ you any ideas.”

“Ideas?”

“Yep. I’m way too busy to start lookin’ for another bartender.”

Your laughter sounds even sweeter than the slow jazz music from the stage.

Dwayne’s more than happy to revel in it forever, but as the doors of the Tru Tone open up and catches his eye, his easy happiness is instantly sucked away. Leaves a yawning pit in his gut where the warm pleasure had once been.

But that tends to happen whenever Mayor Hamilton is around.

And he doesn’t have to say a word to you. Regrettably, it’s as if you’ve got some kind of radar for the dear Mayor. Always knowing and recognizing his presence in the bar, as rare as it is. Dwayne suspects he only comes here for you (pissing him off is just a bonus.)

It also makes Dwayne wonder just how much time you’re spending with Hamilton to make you so attuned to him.

Dwayne looks to you, noticing how you’ve bounced up on your toes. Trying to keep your excitement underwraps, but Dwayne can see just how pleased you are to see Hamilton. But you don’t move from your spot at the register to greet him. Nor do you call out his name and wave. Because you’re working, and Dwayne knows just how serious you take your job.

For a moment, he thinks about keeping you behind the bar. With him. Away from Douglas Hamilton and his way of poisoning everything he touches. But the notion instantly fills him with guilt - Dwayne can’t just abuse his power, like that.

So, hard as it is, he forces a smile on his face and motions to the Mayor with his head. “Go. You’ve been working hard,” he says.

The way your smile goes wide should’ve made the butterflies worse. This time, it just fills him with dread. “Thanks, Dwayne!”

He tries not to stare when you come out from behind the bar to hug Hamilton.

-

And it’s driving me insane.   Does he make you say his name?     And you can’t get it off your tongue       Little girl, you are not so young

By now, Dwayne should know better than to think he can hide his feelings from Loretta.

She’s able to sniff out the storm cloud over his head in seconds. Always has, and sometimes, it can be a little annoying. Can’t a man brood in peace without being asked if he wants to talk? But today wasn’t one of those days - Dwayne swirling thoughts sometimes makes it hard to breathe.

“What’s wrong, Dwayne?”

That’s all he really needs.

“It’s Y/N,” he says simply. “And Hamilton. She’s been spending a lotta time with him lately, and I really don’t like it.”

His gaze is elsewhere, away from Loretta and the way her brows shoot up in surprise. He misses how she’s nearly smirks, but reigns it in at the last second. And as she steps closer, Dwayne feels her hand on his shoulder. “Have you considered that maybe you want her attention on you, instead of Hamilton?”

The question makes him frown in confusion, and as he looks up to Loretta, he instantly reads her face. And he scoffs at her. “I’m not jealous.” Loretta raises a single brow. “I’m not! I’m worried about her, Loretta. I don’t trust Hamilton as far as I can throw him.”

“Dwayne, she’s an adult. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,” Loretta says calmly. And her words cause Dwayne to shake his head and look away. “Has it impacted her work at all?”

“....No.”

“Then let her live her life. And if you’re really so worried, keep an eye out for her. Protect her, if you really think it might go that far.”

But Dwayne doesn’t need to be told twice.

If he weren’t already on the Mayor’s ass before, then you just cemented Dwayne’s total focus on him.

-

Ain’t you worried what i’ll do?   And that boy should worry, too     Can you face me for what you’ve done?       Little girl, you are not so young

Eliza’s death should’ve been the only thing that weighed on Dwayne’s heart.

It had to be enough for him that Javier Garcia lost everything he had. It had to be enough that he sacrificed him in order to nail Hamilton. Not truly getting justice for Eliza had to mean something.

But when the news of Javier’s death came in, Dwayne felt more heavy than ever.

He hadn’t told the team - that can wait until tomorrow. They deserve to have a break, but that didn’t mean he could just forget about it. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet; getting lost in his thoughts and going over the suspects in his mind. Somebody who could gain something from Javier’s death.

The one name that kept popping up was Douglas Hamilton.

And every time it did, Dwayne’s gaze finds you. Happy and vibrant as ever, laughing with strangers up by the bar. Completely unknowing of the kind of man that Hamilton really is. What he’s capable of.

He spent the next few hours mulling over what he should say. Ignoring everybody’s prods for him to go back to his room above the office and get some sleep. No, this was way more important than sleep. And for all Dwayne knew, you could be in danger, as well.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Hamilton hurt you.

You’re the one who’s chatting while the pair of you clean up after the bar closes. Talking about the day - mostly just bitching about how late one of the delivery guys was and you were left waiting for a shipment of beer for two hours. The story really should’ve lightened Dwayne’s heart.

He was just thinking too much about Eliza. And Javier. And Hamilton....

So as you’re leaving that story and melting into a new one, Dwayne finally stops you. A hand grasping your arm, keeping you in place, uncaring around the empty bottles you carry. Your eyes flash up to him, looking confused, and Dwayne reluctantly meets them. “We need to talk,” he says simply.

Slowly, you nod and move to set the empty bottles down on the nearest table. “I noticed you were kinda quiet tonight,” you tell him carefully. And when your eyes come up to meet Dwayne’s once again, careful and troubled, it makes his stomach tight. “What’s wrong?”

Such a loaded question. And even after hours of thinking about it, Dwayne’s not sure where to start.

His hand falls away from your arm, but he stays close. Keeps his eyes locked on yours, hoping to convey how serious this is. “You know the man we’ve been investigating? Javier Garcia? The man who-” Dwayne had a pause and swallow down the lump in his throat. “The man who had Eliza killed?”

He knows you never knew Eliza, but you saw him in the aftermath of her death. A sad and angry and self-pitying Dwayne Pride. Not his proudest moment.

That’s what makes you nod sadly. “He’s dead. Was killed a few hours ago.”

Your eyes blink in surprise, and then shift in confusion. “How? Why?”

“Car bomb,” Dwayne says. “And I reckon he was killed so he couldn’t tell us things. Things that we need to know. That’s the deal we struck with him.”

Dwayne can tell you’re growing more and more confused. Wondering why he was telling you all this. What this all had to do with you. And maybe Dwayne’s just putting off the inevitable. But he takes a breath to brace himself. “I think the person who had him killed was Hamilton.”

Instantly, you pull away from him in a disbelieving shock. Scoffing at his words as if what he told you was completely ridiculous. And maybe to you, it was. “Dwayne, that’s not fucking funny-”

“I’m not tryin’ to be,” he cuts in quickly. “Javier was going to give us information on a lot of bad people. High profile people. And he mentioned Hamilton by name.”

“He’s a criminal, Dwayne! Or was. He’d say anything to keep from going to jail - you should know that.”

“He gave us solid proof. And I can’t think of anyone else who even knew Javier was gonna talk-”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice is hard as steel. Cold in a way that Dwayne’s never heard before, and he’d almost preferred if you started yelling at him. Not watching him with a disappointed look in your eye. “Douglas wouldn’t just have somebody killed. Who the hell do you think he is?”

“I think he’s a man who’s afraid of losing his power,” Dwayne says simply. “A man who will do anything to keep it.”

You’re silent for a moment, taking his words in before scoffing. You take a single step away from him, and Dwayne reigns in his impulse to move closer. “Do you even have any evidence that he had Garcia killed? Or suspects? Anything?” You ask him. Though, it sounds more like a demand.

He hesitates, lips forming a line before he reluctantly shakes his head.

“Then he didn’t do it,” you conclude. “So don’t try to pin this on him.”

With a shake of your head, you finally move to walk past Dwayne, intending to leave. But it’s instinct that has Dwayne reaching out, catching your arm and gripping it tight in his desperation. And he just wishes you’d look him in the eye - make you see how serious he is. Make you see his fear. “Please, just listen. I already just lost somebody very dear to me. And I know this is all very hard to hear. But Douglas is dangerous, and I don’t wanna lose you, too.”

For a moment, you hesitate. And Dwayne thinks that he finally talked some sense into you. Made you see things for how they are.

But then you pull your arm away from him. And Dwayne releases it. “He’s not dangerous, Dwayne. But if you keep accusing my boyfriend of things he hasn’t done, then you will lose me.”

He lets you leave, and even as the doors are slammed shut, Dwayne’s legs don’t seem to want to work. He stands there in his quiet, empty bar. And as much as his motives were selfless and innocent - to keep you safe from Hamilton - Dwayne can help the sharp, piercing pain in the center of his chest at that word.

Boyfriend.

-

I’m fond of living, but I would have given it all   For the girl I loved     Oh, is he ready to die for you, baby?       Now that the deed is done?

As numb as Dwayne’s spirit is, he wishes his body would feel the same.

He can’t focus on too much of anything besides his aches and the events of the last twenty-four hours.

After everything that’s happened - after all the sacrifices Dwayne has made to get here - he was finally able to reveal Hamilton for the person he is. Finally able to bring some justice to all the wrong that man has done. And Dwayne can barely believe it, himself. He thinks he may be dreaming, but the smarting of his muscles and the light burn of his stab wound made sure that he was awake.

Though, if anything, his heart felt a little lighter. The team made sure of that.

And Dwayne was sure that one of the sacrifices he made was you. He’d been so afraid that his attempts to warn you against Hamilton might’ve caused irreparable damage to your relationship. Maybe he hurt you in some way that you can’t forgive.

So seeing you slowly walk through the sorry excuse for the doors of the Tru Tone, Dwayne knows he must be dreaming. Or at least maybe seeing things because he’s lost more blood that he realized.

Even from across the bar, he can tell you’d been crying. Red eyes and swollen cheeks and such withdrawn body language. So different from how he knows you to be, and suddenly. Dwayne’s own aches mean nothing.

You must’ve heard about what happened on the news. Because Dwayne knows for a fact that Hamilton is not man enough to call you himself.

As you approach, your eyes kept falling away from Dwayne. Looking sheepish, as if expecting him to start yelling and demanding you get out of his bar. But Dwayne says nothing; honestly, he doesn’t really know what to say. So you’re the one to speak up first. “Dwayne, I- I heard what happened. With Douglas. After what happened to the bar...” Your eyes float around the room sadly. He knows you loved the place almost as much as he did.

Dwayne does the same, and notices Loretta eyeing the pair of you.

“I didn’t want to believe Douglas had anything to do with it,” you continue lowly. “But then tonight...”

Again, you trail off. And Dwayne finally sets down the gloves he’d been holding. Cleaning the bar can wait. “You wanna talk?” He offers.

Immediately, you nod. And Dwayne leads you over to what’s left of the backroom. It reeks of smoke and he can’t hardly see much, but it’s private. Quiet. And Dwayne’s barely turned around before you’re on him. Arms around his middle, face in his chest, hugging tight as if he’d suddenly be ripped away.

The way his arms come around you - it’s instinct.

He doesn’t even have to think about it.

Holding you feels natural and right. And after today, hell yeah, Dwayne will admit that it feels good.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble against his chest. To afraid of seeing his face to pull back and say it clearly. “I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have brushed you off when you were just trying to protect me. I just- I really didn’t want to believe that Douglas- that he could-”

You’re crying again. Dwayne can hear it in the way the hiccups fracture your words. Can feel your jumps in breath. And his hand eventually comes up to cradle the back of your head, letting his fingers card through your hair. He leans his head down, lips brushing your temple. “I understand,” he says. And Dwayne’s voice is just barely above a whisper. As if speaking louder would break this precious moment. “I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“...You’re not?”

Dwayne has to breathe to keep from getting too emotional. Your voice was so small. So sad. “No, honey. I could never be mad at you. Never.”

And oh, how he wishes you could really, truly understand the depth of that response. How it’s not just something he’s saying to make you feel better. Wondering if you really knew how wrapped around your finger he is. And Dwayne wonders if he really should be angry, but he finds that he can’t. There’s no hot burn in his gut - only the vicious flutter of butterfly wings.

You and resentment just don’t fit in the same sentence together.

Eventually, your tears slow. And you pull back to finally meet his eyes. Dwayne’s still running on instinct - his hand comes up to fit along the curve of your cheek. His other settles on your hip, hoping to keep you close and with him. The sensation sends sparks of electricity up his spine. And he’s barely focused on whether it’s a good idea or not to be touching you, like this. If now’s the right time.

But you’re not pulling away. Surely that’s a good sign.

And it’s hard for him to believe any of this could be wrong. Because with your arms around his waist, fingers spread over a little area of his back, you seem to be drawing even closer to him. Not pulling away, like you had before. Dwayne hardly dares to breathe.

“Dwayne?”

You breathe out his name. It sounds like heaven. “Yeah?”

“When the bar’s back up and running, do I still have a job here?”

And despite his numbing of his spirit and the effect you’re having on him, Dwayne doesn’t even try to hold back his small bout of laughter. Neither do you. “‘Course, you do. Can’t imagine this place without you with me,” he replies easily.

Honestly, those words came out without his consent. A vulnerable look into his true feelings; much too bold and honest to pretend like it was anything else. It nearly scares Dwayne enough to make him break away. To prompt him into some kind of damage control.

But you don’t give him the chance.

You’re on your toes, and you’re kissing him. Soft and slow and sweet, and it’s a gut reaction to kiss you back with the same warm affection. You just feel too good and too gentle after these last few days of being so hard and angry at everything. It feels like he lost a piece of himself in the hunt.

Now, it’s easy to believe that maybe you were just holding that piece for him.

Your fingers press into his back, holding onto him even tighter when Dwayne tilts your head up to kiss you deeper. Faintly, he hears commotion in the other room. Other people might’ve finally showed up to help. Frankly, Dwayne can’t imagine caring, right now. Because you gasp against his lips, exhale a shaky breath, and Dwayne feels like he might die if he lets you go.

For just a few more moments, he can forget about the tears still falling down your cheeks.

I’m just waiting for night   and the fading light     of the setting sun.

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

The Apple

This is a Hamilton tickle fic!

Summary: Philip has a lot in common with his parents, a little bit too much in fact.....

It all started with a simple phrase: The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

And it is something that is universally known: Like parent like child, like mother like daughter, like father like son.

Children often take things from their parents. Wether it be their eyes, their smiles, their shapes, their love of reading, their athletic skills, their talent or all of the above.

And in nine-year-old Philip Hamilton’s case, the statement could not be more true.

Philip had his mother’s smile and soothing voice, he had his father’s determination and dedication, he had both of his parents love and compassion. And he most certainly had the mischief passed down from both sides of the family.

The day Thomas Jefferson had met Philip, he had referred to him as a mini Alexander. This of course didn’t go down too well with Hamilton, because Jefferson was prone to using ‘Alexander’ as an insult. Yet little Philip didn’t mind, and even asked Thomas why.

“Why?”, Thomas repeated, “Your confidence, your pride, your posture”. And as Alexander was walking Philip home that night, he heard Jefferson mutter from behind them, “And his annoyingness”.

Luckily, Philip hadn’t heard that.

Another time that somebody had made a similar comment about Philip’s similarities with his parents was when his grandfather of the same name had stated: “Wow! You look identical to your mother when you smile!”. Alexander had shrugged, kissing his wife, “I know, it’s beautiful isn’t it?”.

But by far the most interesting time this had happened was on one sunny July afternoon. 

Philip, Alexander, Eliza, Burr and Angelica were all having a picnic at the park. Philip was preoccupied with throwing crumbs of his jam donut at the ducks in the lake, despite the fact that his parents had told him not to. Again, the Hamilton-Schuyler mischief.

Philip crouched down by the lake, extending an arm out with a small crumb in it. A small fluffy brown duck paddled up to him and started nibbling it from the young boy’s freckled fingers.

“Daddy daddy look!” Philip cried in delight, as more ducks swam towards him.

Alexander gasped, “Philip, no!”. He ran up to his boy and lifted him up by his torso. “Put me down!” he said, struggling, “The ducks are hungry!”

“Philip Hamilton, you should know better than to be crouching down beside the lake, you could have fallen in and got hurt!”, Alexander exclaimed.

“But the ducks are so cuuuute”, Philip whined, as Alexander marched him back to the picnic blanket.

“Wow”, Burr remarked, “The kids determined, like you Alexander!”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” Eliza said, as Alexander placed the small boy on her lap. Philip sat up and pricked his ears up: “What does that mean?”.

Aaron Bur, having been a prized language student, smiled and explained, “You know how apples sometimes grow on trees?”.

“Yes” Philip said in interest. “Well”, Burr said, “You grew from your parents. And when apples fall, they land close to the tree they fall from. Like how you are close to your parents!”.

“Ohhhhh”, Philip said, “I get it now. But wait, what if a bird swoops down and carries the apple away from the tree?”.

The adults all laughed gently. “Outside of the box thinker”, Angelica said, “Just like your mother”.

Philip tilted his head to the side: “Are you saying that I look like a box to you, Auntie Angie?”.

The adults all laughed again, and Burr leaned over to poke Philip in the side playfully. The freckled boy squealed and jumped, making everyone smile.

“And there is something else he has in common with his father”, Eliza stated, fluttering her fingers against the ribs of the boy below her, “He’s insanely ticklish!”.

“Muhum!”, Philip giggled, squirming around, “Stohohohop!”

Eliza stopped and smirked up at her husband, who’s face was redder than a tomato. Philip jumped out of Eliza’s arms and jumped at his dad, tackling him down to the grass.

“Yeah, pops is very ticklish!” Philip exclaimed, before clawing his little fingers into his father’s belly.

Alexander burst out laughing, only squirming lightly as not to hurt his son.

“Pihihiihihip, stohohohohop it! Plehehehehase!”.

“Ah, no”, Philip stated, keeping up his attack. The other adults all watched fondly, smiles on their faces. 

“Hey, little buddy”, Burr said, tapping Philip on the shoulder, “Have you tried out his tummy button yet?”.

Philip smiled up at him before dipping his finger into the dreaded spot.

“NOHOHOHO PIHIHIHIHP, NOHOHOHOT NIHIHIHIHIHICE!”.

Burr grinned: “Oh, it must be nice”, he said, joining in with Philip and tickling Alexanders neck. Alexander squealed and pinned it to his chest: “NOHOHOHOHOHHO BUHUHUHUHURR!”.

“Hey, hey”, Burr said, putting a finger to his lips, “Talk less”. He dug his hands under the mans arms, wiggling his fingers into the hollows, “Smile more”.

Alexander collapsed in laughter, from both his son’s tickles and his friend’s tickles. 

“Ok”, Eliza chuckled in amusement,”Guys, don’t get carried away, you don’t want to kill him! Have a lettuce sandwich”, she offered.

Burr stoped and took the sandwich: “Thanks Eliza”. Yet Philip was still tickling his dad’s stomach and sides.

“Lettuce, eww!”, he remarked, not slowing his attack one bit.

“EHEHEHEHEHEHAT YOUR VEHEHEHEHEGETABLES!”, Alexander cried, kicking his legs out a little bit. A wide grinned sread across Philip’s face, “Nah, I’m hungry for something else pops”. 

Philip lifted up his dad’s shirt and lowered his head to his stomach.

Alexander’s eyes widened, “No,Philip, don’t you dare”.

Philip chuckled, causing Alexander to start wiggling from just the feeling of his son’s breath on his stomach, “I’m sorry daddy, but you do this to me all the time. I deserve a bit of revenge!”

And with that, Philip inhaled and blew.

“BAHAHAHAH PHIHIHIHIHILIP NOHOHO!”.

“Philip yes!”, the boy exclaimed, inhaling before blowing another one.

“SHIHIHIHT AHAHAHAHA!”.

“Alexander!”, Eliza exclaimed, shocked by the language coming from his husband’s mouth, “Not in front of Philip”.

“SOHOHOHHOHOHOHORRY!”, Alexander laughed, as Philip went to squishing the sides of his belly.

“NOHOHOHOHO, ANYTHING BUT THAHAHAHAT!”.

Eliza smirked, “You know, I was going to help defend you Alexander, but because of your foul language, I know longer feel motivated to do so”.

“EHEHEHELIZA!”

“That’s my name”, Eliza teased, poking at his husbands hips a bit. 

“NAHAHAHAHA ENOHOHOHHOUGH!”.

Eliza giggled and pulled her son off her husband lightly: “Come on Philip, he deserves a break”.

Philip giggled and sat up, running into Auntie Angie’s lap. Angelica humphed, Philip was getting to be really big! 

“I think a puberty growth spurt is just around the corner”, Angelica remarked.

Philip looked up at her, “What’s puberty? Will it make me stronger!”.

Philip flexed his muscles, and Angelica snuck a tickle under his arms.

“H-hey!”, he giggled, pinning them down to his sides.

Angelica shrugged cheekily, “It’s time to bring justice to your poor father!”. She wiggled her fingers up and down Philips belly and torso.

“Nohoho, Ahahahahangie”, the boy giggled, squirming lightly in his auntie’s arms.

“Sorry Pip, all in the name of justice”, Angelica teased.

“Yeah!”, Alexander remarked from the other side of the picnic rug, “Next time you’ll think twice about tickling your father!”.

Angelica dipped her finger into Philip’s button.

“SHIHIHIHIT!”.

Everyone gasped, and Angelica stopped.

“Philip, don’t say that word!”, Angelica remarked.

“Yeah”, Eliza added, “Your father’s a bad influence”.

Philip chuckled and smiled at his mother: “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.

Haha thanks for reading! Please give feedback!

[aion-rsa]

Netflix’s Clickbait Ending: Was Nick Guilty?

https://ift.tt/3jia5bj

Warning: contains Clickbait finale spoilers.

First up, fair play to any production that manages to deliver in the middle of this pandemic. Netflix thriller Clickbait started filming in Melbourne in December 2019, was forced to stop in March 2020, then came back eight months later and got the job done. That is no mean feat and praise is owed to all concerned. 

The precise nature of Clickbait’s job was to create a twist-filled thriller, which it absolutely did. The eight-part Netflix series is thick with twists, red herrings and ‘wait a goddam minute’ cliff-hangers that ensure you do as the title suggests and click ‘Next Episode’. In its frenzy to keep us all guessing until the end though, it took a few logic-missing leaps. For anybody still not clear on the ending, or for those who gave up halfway but still want to find out how things wrapped up, here’s what went down.

Who kidnapped Nick Brewer?

Easy one. That was Simon Burton and his stoner friend Daryl. Six months before they kidnapped Nick, Simon’s sister Sarah killed herself after she was rejected and goaded to do it by her online boyfriend ‘Jeremy’. Simon and Daryl then found messages between Sarah and Jeremy on her phone, read about him in her journal, and tracked down an online photograph of him under his real name: Nick Brewer. They thought Nick was the one taking advantage of Sarah, and he was responsible for her suicide. So they ambushed Nick on his cycle to work, drugged him and tied him up in the back of a van, then filmed him holding signs saying “I abuse women” and “At 5 million views I die”, and released the video anonymously online.

Why did Simon and Daryl need the video to get five million views before killing Nick?

No reason, other than they wanted to publicly expose Nick as an abusive cheat and destroy his reputation in grand style. Whether they would have just let him go if the views hadn’t rolled past the five million point, we don’t know. Daryl, who is not bright, did get excited about the video going viral and them getting “famous”, but whether he was expecting fame as a murderer, kidnapper or the anonymous maker of a video, is not clear.

Was Nick responsible for Sarah Burton’s suicide?

Not at all. Nick Brewer had never met Sarah Burton (whose online dating profile was under the name ‘Maggie Oxley’ for reasons undisclosed). ‘Maggie’ had never met ‘Jeremy’ in real life, and was being catfished by Dawn Gleed, the receptionist at Nick’s place of work. Dawn used Nick’s photographs and personal details gleaned from their friendship to pose as versions of him on multiple online dating sites, to fulfil her deep well of loneliness as a childless woman whose husband played with train sets. It was Dawn posing as Nick/Jeremy who irritably rejected Sarah because she was smitten with new cat fishing victim Emma, and told Sarah to make good on her suicide threat.

Why did Simon let Nick go?

Because he realised Nick was telling the truth about not being the one who’d messaged Sarah, and that the ‘evidence’ beach photo of Nick and Sarah together was clearly a Photoshop fake. (As Nick pointed out, the horizon wasn’t level.) Simon deliberately left Nick alone in the truck with access to a Stanley knife so he could cut through his restraints and escape. Simon pursued Nick with a gun, but let him go because Nick promised to find the person who had really typed that message to Sarah, to take them to the police and make them pay. Handily, the kidnap truck was parked within walking distance of Dawn Gleed’s house, so Nick went straight there having realised that Dawn was the only person who had access to his photographs and knew about his wife Sophie cheating on him. (Which Sarah Burton had written about in her journal.)

Who killed Nick?

Joe Gleed, Dawn’s husband, on the spur of the moment. Months earlier, Joe discovered that Dawn had been posing as Nick online to catfish women, and she promised him she’d stopped. When Nick’s kidnap became a top news story, and an angry, blood-stained, beaten Nick showed up at Dawn and Joe’s house after escaping his kidnappers, Joe hit him twice with the hammer he’d been using to destroy Dawn’s laptop, killing him. Then Joe dumped his body by the river. Days later, when the metadata from Dawn’s Photoshop pictures led Nick’s son Kai to Joe and Dawn’s house, they kidnapped him, went on the run and Joe was eventually shot dead by a police officer when he refused to give up his weapon.

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Who ran Emma Beesly’s car off the road?

That was Joe Gleed again. When Emma went to Nick’s office to lay flowers at his memorial and smell his scarf, Dawn ushered her away and presumably found out which hotel she was staying at in town. Joe then called her hotel room with a threat, and when that didn’t work, ran her off the road. Joe and Dawn were trying to make sure that Emma didn’t reveal she had never met Nick Brewer, so that the catfishing link wouldn’t come up, leading a trail back to Dawn. 

Was Nick cheating on Sophie?

We assume not, and we never saw him cheat, but Nick did lie to Simon Burton in the back of that van when he told him that he didn’t have an online dating profile. Two years ago, before Dawn even got involved, Nick already had a dating profile on app D8R, on which he was registered under the name ‘Nick Chabot’ and pretending to be an architect from San Jose, rather than a physical therapist from Oakland. When Nick started work at the sports centre, Dawn synced Nick’s phone to his work computer and spotted a notification for a flirtatious message he’d received via the app from Mandy Harrison, who’d sent him bikini photos he complimented her on. So, Nick didn’t seem to be cheating/have cheated on Sophie, but he also wasn’t telling the whole truth either.

But Sophie had cheated on Nick?

Yes, that was all very straightforward. She’d had a brief affair with colleague Curtis Hamilton, who agreed to meet Nick in a bar and had a fight with him weeks before his kidnap, making Hamilton an early suspect in Nick’s murder. 

Was Nick having sex with his volleyball students?

No, not that we know of, but his colleague Matt Aldin was having a sexual relationship with volleyball student Tara Wilson. When she broke it off, Matt became unreasonable and coercive and posted nude photos of Tara online as revenge. When questioned by Pia, Matt denied releasing the photos. He may have simply been lying, or perhaps the photo leak was also done by Dawn Gleed. The nude photos of Tara were stored on Matt’s work computer, to which we know Dawn had access as she planted the Photoshopped pictures there of Nick with Emma and Sarah, to frame Matt as the catfish who’d posed as Nick online. 

Who was son Ethan talking to online?

A red herring named Alison. That was a good one. All the way through, we’d been led to be suspicious of Ethan and his online pal Al2005, but really, she was exactly who she says she was: an Oakland teen trapped inside her house due to anxiety and depression. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Clickbait is available to stream now on Netflix.

The post Netflix’s Clickbait Ending: Was Nick Guilty? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3Bf1bl7

[steves-on-a-plane]

Festival

For @thefanficfaerie​‘s OTP Challenge (2020)                 Words: 787 Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader             Prompt: Spooktacular Halloween: Day 30- Festival Summary: The day of the Tony Festival has arrived and it’s time for Tony and Reader to debut their Alexander and Eliza Hamilton costumes.

“You know, period garb looks good on me.” Tony commented, adjusting his jacket. He looked to his left where you were walking beside him. “But it looks even better on you.” He smirked.

“I just know how to work my angles. Plus it doesn’t hurt that I made the costumes.” You laughed. “So, what are we going to hit up first? Games, rides, the food?”

“How about games?” Tony suggested. “It might be fun to fill Baby Stark’s nursery with all the prizes I win.”

“I’ll have you know I used to have a reputation as Queen of the Ring Toss.” You informed him.

“Well from ages five to seven I had a nanny who took me to Coney Island every Friday. So, we’ll see who the Queen of the Ring Toss is.” Tony took your hand and walked with you through the festival booths. The two of you kept your eyes out for the Ring Toss.

“How do you do with the balloon pop?” Tony asked. He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the booth.

“Ugh, I’m terrible at it.” You complained.

“Perfect.” Tony smiled mischievously. Tony stepped up to the booth and paid the attendant. The attendant handed him five darts. Tony picked up the first one and began to take aim. From behind you, you heard girls giggling and you turn to see what the excitement was.

“I’m telling you it’s him.” One girl whispered loudly. She was standing with two other friends, each of them barely over twenty-one.

“You really think Tony Stark and his wife came to the town festival the day before Halloween?” One of her friends asked before sipping from her beer.

“Well, why not?” The third girl asked. “They live in the town, don’t they?”

“On the edge of the town.” The second girl commented.

“Don’t look now,” You whispered to Tony as he tossed his second dart towards the wall of balloons. “But you’ve got some admirers.”

“Hm?” He looked over his shoulder. He saw the same three girls. Tony waved at the girls before turning back to his game. After Tony had tossed the last of his darts he was gifted a small bear as a prize. “First one is for you.” He handed the bear over with a kiss. “Next one’s for baby.”

“Hi, um, I’m sorry if this is like totally crazy but are you Tony Stark?” The first girl in the group was finally brave enough to ask.

“Well, tonight my name is Alexander Hamilton.” He answered with a wink. “This is my wife, Eliza.”

“I get it!” The girl nodded. “You want to keep a low profile. We totally understand.” She began backing away towards her friends.

“Would you girls like a picture?” You offered.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” The second girl insisted. “You two should enjoy your night together.”

“C’mon.” You waved them all over. “How often will you get a chance to meet Alexander Hamilton?” You asked them.

“Twice.” Tony answered. “Once now and if they ever wander across Lin Manuel Miranda at a Halloween Festival. Do you think Lin is here? Should I call him?”

“You have Lin Manuel Miranda’s phone number and you never invited him over for dinner?” You questioned.

“Of course, how do you think I got us those Hamilton tickets for Surprise Date Night?” He questioned.

“Wow. You two are officially my favorite celebrity couple.” One of the girls gushed.

“Okay ladies, I’ve got big plans to try and eat an entire blooming onion by myself so the offer is going fast. The three of you want photos?” You asked them with a smile. The three girls looked among each other before nodding excitedly. “Great. We can do individual photos and them one group picture. I’ll happy take them the only thing I ask is that you don’t post the photos on social media until tomorrow. Let Mr. Stark and I enjoy our date night, okay?”

The three girls agree before lining up and posing for photos with Tony. Once the group photos were done the girl thanked you multiple times before Tony was finally able to drag you away.

“That was nice of you.” Tony commented as you stepped in line for a blooming onion.

“I remember what it was like at their age. I think I would have died if I had seen Harrison Ford at a town festival when I was younger.” You told him.

“Really?” Harrison Ford?” Tony asked.

“I liked Star Wars as a kid, sue me.” You shrugged. The two of you stepped forward in line. “And I can’t help it if I have a thing for guys with crooked grins and an abundance of confidence.”

TAGS: @thefanficfaerie​ @littlegasps​

[schrijverr]

I Wrote My Own Deliverance

Chapter 10 out of 10

Alexander Hamilton is reborn as Alex Hambleton. He is desperate not to make the same mistakes twice, but it seems he is stuck in the narrative, unable to get out. Familiar faces pop up all around him as he attempts to keep his previous life a secret and write himself out of the story.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!!

~~~~~~~~~~~

“- Oh my god, you have been roommates with Aaron Burr for over a year!”

Alex winced. He’d hoped everyone had forgotten that detail, but it seemed not as the entire room exploded once more. With a last “What the shit, Alex,” from Laurens the room fell quiet to look at him expectantly.

He shrugged and said: “I made my peace with Burr, he’s pretty cool.”

And with that the whole room was send into disarray again.

“How!” John shrieked, “He murdered you!”

“Yeah and he had his reasons. I hate to inform you, but I was the one that said yes to the duel and insulted him the whole way through.” Alex shot back, “Besides, I thought we had just established that this time things can be different. If I can believe in Aaron, I can believe in myself. So far he’s been nothing but civil to me, he’s just another student wanting to live his life.”

It was quiet for a moment and Alex offered: “And Betsy already punched him, so even-Steven?”

“Only you, Alexander.” Eliza face palmed.

“I try.” he grinned.

“Wait,” Angelica said and Alex was scared of what she remembered, “You already knew at the party. Why did you come if you knew you would get punched?”

“First of, I didn’t want to assume and I only put the pieces together when the fist was already flying at my face. Second, I kinda did deserve that.” he told her.

“That’s not exactly healthy.” John pointed out, but he shut up after a look from Alex, the other had too much dirt on him and John was honestly the last who could talk about fighting as a coping mechanism.

Alex stuck his tongue out, as he turned and grabbed his phone: “Speaking of the party and Aaron, I probably need to find him before he does something stupid with his self-esteem issues and blame complex, like no offense, but our last meeting was not the most important thing ever.”

“You died.” Lafayette pointed out.

“Happens to the best of us,” Alex shrugged, “Case and point.”

“Ego much.” John grumbled and Alex just smiled as he called Aaron anonymously, the man probably wouldn’t pick up otherwise.

“Ah, yes, with me, Alex, your favourite and only roommate.”

“No, I’m not here to yell at you. I would have done that already if I wanted to.”

“Yeah, naturally, I never come back on my words.”

“They’re here yeah, already yelled at me and stuff.”

“I cannot with a 100% certainty promise that you will not get punched, but I am willing to try and convince them otherwise.”

He hung up and turned to the others: “Aaron is coming over, be nice.”

“Why would I be nice.” John pouted, arms crossed.

“Because, my dear Laurens, I have forgiven him and he could use some friends.” Alex explained.

“I’m with John here, I don’t want to be his friend.” Eliza mirrored John.

Alex smiled and said: “I know, Betsy, I know, but he hasn’t had it easy either. Even more of a nay-sayer and all around stick in the mud this time around. He has no one, you know how much it sucks to have no one.”

“Theodosia?” she asked, but Alex could tell her bleeding heart was giving in.

“Hasn’t come back, yet.” he smiled sadly at her.

“Alright, I won’t punch him then.” she threw her hands in the air.

They turned to John, who moped: “Whatever, but I’m not going to be nice.”

“Oh come on, man.” Herc said, “Making fun of Burr was always fun, it’ll be like the good old days when we were right and he told us to shut up.”

“You have a warped idea of fun, mon ami.” Laf told him.

“Like you weren’t there every single time to join in.” Herc shot back as they dissolved into squabbling.

Alex smiled and finally felt like he could take a breath. He had his friends around him again and no matter what the world threw at him, he could take it. He was home.

A knock at the door shook him out of his musings and he threw a look over his shoulder as he walked over to the door. Before he opened it, he warned: “Be nice.”

Aaron was indeed standing there and Alex greeted him cheerily: “Aaron Burr, sir.”

“Alexander” Aaron greeted with a wince.

“Come on, don’t be like that. If I had known you would become more boring, I would have never written another public document to fuck with you.” Alex grinned.

“Don’t antagonize him, Alex.” Eliza called out.

“Yeah, we all know how that turned out last time.” John huffed.

The comments didn’t really help, because Aaron winced as he started to back away, clearly on the brink of running.

“Guys, please try to be civil.” it earned Alex some disbelieving snorts, “Look at him, he’s about to cry. Are you gonna make Aaron Bartow cry?”

“Oh, it’s Aaron Bartow now?” John huffed.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Alex said, “Just like you’re John Lawson and I’m Alex Hambleton. We’re not the same people anymore and I forgave Aaron a long time ago. He deserves people who know and understand as much as the next person.”

“You forgive me?” Aaron voice sounded so small and fragile that all retorts that might have been, died before they were spoken.

“I do.” Alex told him, “I saw your face, you know? When you shot. You were bracing for a bullet and when it didn’t come you looked so heartbroken and surprised. Van Ness had to drag you away. I don’t forget easily. I know I’m abrasive and a loud mouth that has an opinion on everything, who makes rash decisions, so I don’t blame you for wanting to protect yourself.”

Aaron looked at him wordlessly, unsure of what to say.

Alex grinned: “I’m aware you have a stick up your ass, but are you going to stare at my handsome face the entire day or am I going to get a hug.”

“You’re an asshole.” Aaron told him as he clutched the other tightly.

“I’ve been told.” Alex replied, merely holding on just as strong.

It took a while before either let go, but Alex was planning to hide for today and standing in the hallway with his door open was not ideal, especially as time went on and more people got the news, so he pried Aaron off him and led him inside.

He turned back to properly close the door when it was slammed open by none other than Tom, or Thomas Jefferson, he wasn’t sure who he had in front of him.

“You.” he pointed at Alex, whose eyes grew wide as he held up his hands, probably Jefferson he thought, “You motherfucker.”

Jefferson slammed down his hand and seethed: “This, really? You and your fucking pamphlets have to- Ugh! It’s always fucking you with your big ego and thousands of words that don’t even make sense most of the time and-”

“Hey, dude, calm down.” Alex cut him off, “What got you so mad?”

“This triggered my memories.” Jefferson admitted with venom, “Not the history lessons, not my face in buildings, not my legacy fucking me over or even that stupid musical. But you and your constant need for attention.”

“Ah,” Alex is quite unsure about what to say and one look at the others confirmed that neither did they, so he weakly offered, “At least you remember?”

“Like you think that’s a good thing, I read your stupid pamphlet, Lord knows I did, and it sucks, asshole.” Jefferson snarled, “We both know that.”

“It gets better when you find people.” Alex said, gesturing to the others, who waved awkwardly.

“Maybe, but I don’t really have anybody, now do I?” Jefferson told him and Alex would’ve never thought he’d see the day where he sympathized with Jefferson, though in front of him was Tom as well, not just Jefferson anymore.

“I thought we were kind of friends?” he replied, “I like debating with you and we agree more this time and, look, I know people we knew.”

Jefferson looked at him as if he had three heads as he slowly said: “You, Alexander Hamilton, you- you want to be friends? With me? Did you hit your head? Like is there something wrong with you and are you missing your memories? You hate me.”

“No, I hate Thomas Jefferson and if I recall correctly, your name is Tom Jamesson.” Alex replied, “And if you look closely, you’ll see Aaron Bartow sitting there. Besides, I think I can handle more debating in my life.”

“Only you would keep someone in your life to fight with them.” Tom said with a faked annoyance, “Though my name is actually Thomas Jamesson, so get your fact straight.”

“Well, then, Thomas, welcome to my humble abode, now please shut the door behind you before nosy strangers come in.” Alex said when Thomas’ reply wasn’t a blunt no.

Thomas snorted: “You published your life story again and you’re worried about nosy strangers.”

“It’s about the principle of the thing, I wanna do it all official, maybe hold a press conference, get a dinner thrown in my honor, make a long speech that everyone is forced to listen to. It’ll be great.” he grinned.

“The fact that I believe you is disturbing.” Angelica piped up.

And so they roped Thomas into the fray that was their little Revolution crew as they talked about their life now and their life back then. They compared notes on what was different and what was the same.

Apparently the Schuyler sisters were now childhood best friends and Angelicas memories had triggered those of the others. Eliza remarked: “Peggy was so sad she couldn't come to slap you into next week, but she has her internship.”

“Not looking forward to that.” Alex winced, “And I thought she liked me?”

“She does, she just likes fighting more.” Angelica commented humorously, “Being able to have opinions and do stuff, has really gotten her out of her 18th century shell.”

“Good for her.” Alex nodded.

“That’s what I said!” John exclaimed excitedly.

They moved on to Lafayette, who told them it was same old French noble blood and being send off to America for better education and to explore the world. He pouted over not being as close to Washington anymore, but brightened when he told them about the tea they drank together every other Wednesday.

John didn’t say anything about his father, besides the fact that he was a Senator and still a dick, or other family for that matter, but he was ecstatic that he would be able to become a Doctor this time around and he loved his study dearly.

Thomas didn’t really say much either. He was still struggling with connecting his two identities and what that meant for him. When asked about James, he sadly said: “If I saw him, we didn’t recognize each other.”

“Hey, we’ll find him if he’s out there.” Alex comforted him, then joked, “He probably remembered and tried to stay as far away from here as possible to avoid seeing me again.”

It got a small huff of amusement out of Thomas.

Alex looked at Aaron to ask about him, when his phone rang. Nervously he picked up: “Hello, yes, this is Alex Hambleton speaking.”

“Ah, you’ve read it then.”

“I understand.”

“Within the month?” Alex asked surprised, “Then I get to keep my scholarship? Thank you so much, sir!”

He turned to the others who were waiting expectantly as he grinned: “Looks like I’m getting registered and my plan for world domination is still on track.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Herc yelled, getting cheers from the others.

Alex smiled in the midst of his friends with a future bright and obtainable. A story ready for him to write how he saw fit, unbound by mistakes of the past.

He might be an old story in a new place, but there was always room for a rewrite. They were already on the second draft anyway.

[the-a-word-2214]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The Singer

Anthony Ramos x OC

Warnings: Some swearing, drinking

A/N: Thank you so much to @charming-charlie for collborating with me on this! All credit goes to her on this chapter.

Summary: Anthony and Scarlett get to know each other, in what one would consider a first date. Who knew it would end in embarrassment?

2,147 words

Chapter 2: The First Date

New York City was bustling with people, especially at night. The tourists were gone, sleeping in their hotel rooms, leaving the regular city dwellers to finally come out and enjoy their hometown. Scarlett saw instantly how Anthony was able to blend in. Despite being on one of the biggest productions on Broadway, no on was flocking to him, grabbing at him, desperate for some attention. He seemed to know how to avoid detection, which allowed Scarlett to think that he snuck away like this before.

The walk was quiet, with a few pleasantries between the singers. She wanted to ask him some questions, get to know him, but she didn’t want to dominate the conversation, or say something that could be taken in a different way. She just met the man and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. However, she kept telling herself that if she didn’t say something, he might take it as she wasn’t interested.

The restaurant was nestled in between a music store and a bagel shop. Scarlett almost missed it and she probably would have if Anthony didn’t steer her in the right direction. Their shoulders crashed against one another as he nodded toward the Italian bistro and Scarlett followed his line of sight. The restaurant had tall dark windows, a café area outside that was surrounded by white lights, and a revolving door that led to the inside. One thing Scarlett saw about this place that stood out: it was small. Like, impractically small. There’s no way the two of them would find a table, let alone be seated comfortably.

Yet Anthony’s smile was as bright as ever.

The pair walked in and the hostess smiled in greeting. “Hey Anthony. Usual table?” she asked politely as she turned to start fishing out menus from the box behind her. Anthony shook his head. “Nah, I don’t have my whole crew with me tonight. Table for two instead.” The hostess nodded approvingly, removing two black menus from the box, and motioning Anthony to follow her.

Scarlett was right. The place was jam packed, lively and jovial. It reminded her of her club on a Saturday night. Loud and boisterous, but still classy and respectful. She was so in trance with all the people, mostly because it only seemed to add to her anxiety, that she was completely caught off guard when she reached a staircase. “You coming?” she heard Anthony above her.

Looking up, she saw the Broadway star was halfway up the stairs, his body turned to look at her with confusion. “Don’t tell me you have a fear of stairs,” Anthony said, although his tone was meant to be taken in jest. Scarlett shook her head as she followed him up the flight of steps.

The second floor of the restaurant was much quieter and had less people. The blonde caught on quickly. They were in the VIP area of the restaurant, and Anthony frequented this place enough to have a table to himself. It was surprising, and Scarlett had to admit, she may even felt a little bit jealous at the connection that Anthony had. He didn’t seem to flaunt the fact that he was this ginormous Broadway star.

The couple took a seat at a small table in the back and Scarlett could feel her exhaling a sigh of relief that they were not in center view. She was shy, especially in big crowds. This was a good setting for her. The menus were placed in front of them, along with a complimentary basket of breadsticks. Scarlett did not feel hungry. Her nerves were getting to her.

“Can I start you off with any drinks?” a waiter appeared suddenly, as if on cue. Then again, Scarlett shouldn’t be surprised. It was the VIP area after all. “A bottle of Chardonnay sound good?” Anthony asked Scarlett, who merely nodded at the suggestion. “A’ight, we will start with that.” The waiter left after being dismissed to fetch the wine, leaving Anthony and Scarlett alone for a few minutes.

Say something, Scarlett told herself. She practically had a celebrity, a Broadway idol, in front of her and she couldn’t get her mouth to work. He sang, acted, and danced every night. Maybe he has a few pointers for a singer like herself. That’s what they have in common so far. Talk about that, she told herself. It was at this point she was started to mentally curse her nervous and shy personality.

“How long have you been singing?” Anthony asked. He took a breadstick from the basket and began munching on it. Scarlett looked at him with a sort of crinkled face. It was like she was studying him, like she had a test about him the next day. Anthony didn’t waver; he must be used to people gawking at him like that. “A while. I was a waitress at the bar until my boss caught me singing a tune in the back while washing out the glasses. Since then, I was promoted to the spotlight,” Scarlett answered as calmly as she could. Her hands were pressed tightly in her lap and she knew they would start trembling if she let them go.

The waiter came back, popped the cork on the bottle, and filled two wine glasses with the white liquid before leaving the bottle in an ice bucket on the table. Once he left, Scarlett found her hand wrapped tightly around the glass and bringing it to her lips, where she took a small sip, followed by a larger sip before setting the glass down. From that point on, she started to loosen up. She could feel it. Good, this was good. Maybe now she could relax and enjoy Anthony’s company without worrying about her shy demeanor.

The pair talked about anything and everything after that. Anthony told her about the jokes and hijinks that went on backstage at Hamilton, including the time he hid the king’s crown from Jonathan Groff. Poor Jonathan was forced to go onstage in a cheap and flimsy king’s hat from a costume store. Scarlett told Anthony about the time she took up horseback riding, only to end up with a broken arm in the process. When she revealed that the horse’s name was Bad Luck, Anthony broke out into a fit of giggles at how poetically karmic the name was.

At that point, the bottle of Chardonnay was totally empty, including half of the breadstick basket. Anthony had already paid for their next-to-nothing meal and pocketing his credit card when Scarlett was coming back to reality. Something didn’t feel right. Anthony noticed immediately and looked at her with concern. “You okay?” he asked and the blonde nodded. The Broadway star seemed unconvinced. “Where do you live?” he questioned with a cocked eyebrow. “Down the road. Like two blocks that way,” Scarlett ended up answering. She tried to point in one direction, but her arm was twirling in the air, pointing everywhere. She lowered her arm, confused as to why her appendages were not obeying the commands from her brain. “Near the bakery,” Scarlett mentioned. She loved waking up to the smell of freshly baked bread and cookies. Her apartment complex was right next door.

Anthony nodded. He knew the place well enough. Once or twice, the cast and crew received treats from the bakery. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” He stood up easily, like he didn’t have a drink at all. Scarlett, however, seemed to stumble just to get on her feet. Anthony approached her, grabbing her by the arm and carefully guiding her. It practically hit Scarlett as the two were making their way across the room to the stairs, that maybe Anthony only drank his own glass of wine. That meant… shit, Scarlett! You drank the whole damn bottle!

There were no words to describe what she felt. Anger at herself for being so stupid and careless was at the top of the list. Now Anthony was seeing her in a drunken stupor, and the pair only just met tonight. This was not looking good.

Scarlett had to grip the railing, with Anthony holding tightly around her waist, as she practically hobbled down the stairs. She could walk but not in a straight line. More than once, Anthony had to pick her up and help her down the flight of stairs, like she was a child. The embarrassment that seeped inside her was also not helping. Once outside, she was hoping the fresh air would do her some good, yet all she really wanted to do was run up and down the street with her arms spread wide. Thank god Anthony continued to keep a tight grip on her.

Normally, he would call for a cab, but since Scarlett lived so close, and he wanted to see that she got home safely, he stayed by her side. “How much did I drink?” Scarlett asked, her words were slurring a bit. Anthony almost thought she asked something else, something with a bit of gibberish in it, but he was able to pick out the phrase. “A lot,” he said with a laugh. Scarlett felt herself turn red from embarrassment. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Either way, it did nothing to help with her mental state.

The apartment complex was a bit rundown. It was a newer building but from the looks of things, it gave the impression that the construction company rushed to get it ready. The roof was in need of cleaning, the paint was chipping off, and it gave off this feeling that rent was cheaper than normal, especially in a city like New York. “What floor?” Anthony asked. Scarlett was clinging to him now. Her arm was wrapped around his shoulders and she just raised one finger in the air.

It took a while to figure out exactly which apartment was hers. She would giggle when he asked and even tried to keep the key away from him in some weird game of keep-away. Once inside, Anthony was surprised to find it sort of normal. Despite Scarlett having too much to drink, which he felt was fine considering everything, he enjoyed talking to her and getting to know her tonight. In his experience, that often came with hidden secrets from girls he would be interested in. A messy home, a kid he didn’t know the girl had, money problems, so on and so forth. Scarlett continued to surprise him.

He set her down on the couch and went into the kitchen. When he came back, he had a glass of water in his hand and was offering it to the blonde. “Here, this’ll help,” he said gently. He sat next to her and Scarlett took the water, along with a few sips of the helpful drink. It did do wonders. She knew the reason she was hit so hard from the bottle of wine was because she drank on an empty stomach. That was on her and she wouldn’t blame Anthony if he didn’t want to see her again. With that thought, she felt like maybe she should tell him how she was feeling, especially when she had liquid courage working its way through her system.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” she said while setting the glass of water down on the coffee table in front of her. She turned to look at the Broadway star with a smile. Anthony was about to say something but Scarlett kept talking. “You’re really cute,” she said while leaning into him, “Like, really, really cute.” That was not how she wanted to start the conversation but oh well, it’s out in the open now.

“I kinda like you,” Scarlett continued. She caught Anthony off guard, she could tell by the look on his face, yet her drunken stupor apparently didn’t care. “I think you are funny, good-looking, and that smile, dude,” she replied. Anthony was beaming at the compliments, but he remained composed. He was determined to keep his hands to himself. One bad news story and the tickets for his show would flop, plus he might be out of a job. That was partly why he didn’t drink it up at parties and such. He had to retain this public image.

He was about to say something, but Scarlett never got to find out what that was. In a moment, an instant, she ended up kissing him. His lips were right there, and she couldn’t help it. She was leaning toward him, unaware of what exactly she was doing. It just felt right, in that moment. However, Scarlett wished she could remember what happened next because, once her eyes closed and she gave herself over to her drunk side completely, she passed out. As if the night couldn’t get any worse or embarrassing, she was laying right on Anthony’s lap.

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