politics of passing out

Hey guys, I know it’s natural to be cautious and worried about the possible ways any infringement on free speech can be turned around and used on the relatively powerless. That’s important, and kudos to folks for thinking through the problem carefully.

But in the US we already have a clear statement in law that you can use as your (relatively) bright line test:

  • Does this speech advocate for or encourage the deaths of other people?
  • Does this speech advocate for other forms of violence against other people, such as beating, sexual assault, use of chemical weapons, etc.?
  • Does this group train and encourage people to carry out the deaths of other people through aggressive acts?
    • Please note that defensive training, martial arts, etc. don’t fall into this category, because they’re focused on community and self-defense. This can get fuzzy, because some advocates of violence hide behind “defense”, but journalists are usually pretty good at uncovering that.
  • Does this speech celebrate the recent deaths of political opponents in their own country, especially those who died by violence?

There it is. There’s your test. At its core, the issue is violent rhetoric that’s intended to end in violent acts. And yes, both the government and private citizens are empowered to not give violence a platform. The First Amendment does not protect threats or incitement to violence.

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♡ BTS reaction to their GF that’s usually very polite and happy breaking down after finding out a family member passed away

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The Politics Of Passing Out
The World/Inferno Friendship Society

The World/Inferno Friendship Society- The Politics of Passing Out

with dreams so strange and insistent it’s no wonder i go around kicking things
i dreamt i got touched, i dreamt i could fly,
i never dreamt things would be bad between you and i

we burn joyfully and we give off light
unalloyed joy, at least for tonight

so take it on the chin, spit teeth shut up and sing
like the veins in my arms, like the tattoos on your skin
night upon night, blank cassettes and cigarettes
like lilacs off the tongue, this was supposed to be fun

One day, the manager summoned us all to the staffroom. He seemed very excited about something. I can still picture his suntanned face and blue eyes, but his name has long escaped me. However, he looked like a Dave so I’ll call him that.

Dave said: “I had an important phone conversation today. Next week, George Harrison’s son is staying here and George will call every evening to check everything is all right. So nobody is to use that phone. And if it rings and it’s someone else, we get them off the line as quick as possible. That phone has to be free for George.”

I looked across the staffroom at the phone on the desk. George Harrison’s voice was going to be on the other end of that. George Harrison. The Beatle. The one who wrote Here Comes the Sun and Taxman. The one with the best hair. Here. In this room. Suddenly, I was in a place of greatness.

I regret forgetting Dave’s name because Dave was a wonderful manager. George Harrison’s son was with us for a week and Dave organised a rota so each staff member had a chance to pick up the phone and speak to a Beatle. But he briefed us carefully. No small-talk. No phone hanging. Just answer politely and pass it on.

When my turn came, I was let out of the kitchen early. I stood in the staffroom, with Dave right next to me, and waited for the greatest phone conversation of my life. And then…


“Hello. Who is it this time?”

“Hayley. I work in the kitchen.”

There was a chuckle down the line. “What a great thing to do.” There was no sarcasm – he was being nice.

Becoming more confident, I said: “It’s mostly washing-up.”

Dave nudged me and beckoned furiously for the phone.

“I’ll get Dave,” I said.

“Thanks,” said George.

I beamed at Dave, passed him the phone and went back to the kitchen to finish the dishes.

I did lots of jobs like this in my early 20s and I learned a really useful lesson. Interesting things can happen anywhere and few situations are entirely without promise.

[Hayley Long, The Guardian, 9th July 2017]

A cute story about a very brief encounter with George. Dhani was staying at a kids activity adventure place somewhere in England in the early 90s.

Pic: George and Dhani photographed in 1987 by Terry O’Neill


A and B are newly dating. A invites B to a house party/gathering to meet A’s friends. B, who is very sick, tries to decline, but A thinks B is just trying to get out of meeting new friends because they aren’t the best in social situations. 

B panics because they don’t want to ruin anything with A, so they reluctantly agree. 

The gathering starts off well, but after about an hour, B starts to feel worse then they already do. They politely sneak off to the bathroom and end up (passing out, throwing up, etc.) 

After ten or so minutes, A goes to look for B. They are slightly aggravated, but when they find B and see the state B’s in, they grow incredibly worried and feel incredibly guilty. 

anonymous asked:

Ok I'm am here to ask something very serious, two things... 1) Can we have an insight of a fluffy day with Dr. and The Host? Plz I need more dude. And the most important one... Can I get a hug plz ur awesome and I love your art to deatH byeee......

The Host rarely sleeps so Dr. Iplier often falls asleep and awakens to the sound of his soothing voice as he reads a book. They both get coffee to start the day, the Host’s sweet (because the one thing he didn’t lose from being the Author was his sweet tooth) and Doc’s creamy.

The have a bit of a Carlos/Cecil dynamic where Dr. Iplier plays the Host’s radio show while he works and baffles his colleagues because they’ve literally never heard of this station. And of course the Host knows when Dr. Iplier’s listening, gives him a little shout out and goes back to describing things that shouldn’t be possible.

Everyone’s so used to the Host showing up for his checkups that his appearance doesn’t even faze them anymore. They know his voice and they know he’s very polite so they’ll call out a “hi” when he passes by (though when they first got used to him they would wave, completely forgetting that he’s blind).

They hold hands when they walk home on late nights under the guise that Dr. Iplier is guiding him and makes sure he gets a good meal in before he hides himself in the library while Dr. Iplier sleeps.

Here’s your hug buddy, thank you for the sweet prompt💜

BTS reaction to their GF that’s usually very polite and happy breaking down after finding out a family member passed away

Request: I was wondering (if they’re open) if you could do a BTS reaction to their S/O that’s usually very polite & happy breaking down after finding out a family member passed away?? I seriously love you blog though like holy crap I live for it ❤

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A/n: I’m sorry for the long wait…. I feel like I always say this 😅 I need to work on finishing your guys’ requests faster

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by Eoghan Ballard, University of Pennsylvania

In Cuba, using very much a late renaissance European
metaphor, Palo has been classified as existing in two major
forms, Palo Endoqui and Palo Nzambi, the former called Judio
– “Jewish” – and the latter Cristiano – “Christian.”
These two forms are in fact based upon African originals and
a distinction that goes back to feuding sources of authority
in Kongo religion during the earlier days of the Kingdom of

Religion in the Kongo was always a political thing and
associated both with the spirits but also with the kingship.
Religion’s primary role was the maintenance of the kingdom
and the king was himself sacred. So these shifts represented
shifts in political control.

The generally accepted understanding is that there were
several forms of cult in the Kongo that passed, as these
things usually did, for political reasons, in and out of
favor with the aristocracy.

One cult associated Lukankasi as the supreme deity and the
other Nzambi. Lukankasi was of the sky and Nzambi of the
earth. A third deity, Kalunga, associated with the sea and
the underworld, also was considered a supreme deity.

Although in the Kongo Nzambi, Lukankasi, and Kalunga were
the supreme deities of contesting political factions, they
were not all that different from one another – or perhaps
more accurately, there is little evidence remaining to
distinguish them. To this day in the Congo and among
neighboring peoples, Kalunga and Nzambi are both names for
the supreme deity and are used differentially depending on
the language spoken.

In time, however – and in the Americas – these three
contending supreme deities of the Kongo became associated
with quite different entities of the Christian and Yoruban

When European missionaries arrived in the Kongo, their
entire religious exchange with the Kongolese was accurately
described (and I believe both Thornton and MacGaffey have
used this metaphor or variations on it) as “a dialogue of
the deaf.” This is because the symbol systems and structures
of the two peoples had certain very visible similarities,
especially in the linguistic metaphors they used. As a
result, Christians adopted the terms used by the Kongolese
for religious issues and deity. The Europeans and the
Kongolese were then able to speak about religion and
spiritual reality using a common “dialect” or vocabulary.
The problem was that the Kongolese meant one thing and the
Christians another. Both however, thought they understood
each other.

Nzambi was associated by the early missionaries with the
Christian God. They accepted Nzambi as God because they were
trying to graft Christianity into the existing hierarchy.
This identification occurred when the Kongolese king Aphonso
I became a Christian, and was undertaken to shore up
political power in the face of opposing contenders for the
throne (who were ever present) apart from any other
spiritual concerns. In the Diaspora, Nzambi remained the
dios otioso, mentioned but never really invoked in Cuban

Lukankasi, because he was the deity who was displaced in the
Kongo by the Cult of Nzambi, became associated with the
Christian Devil. Because he was the deposed deity in the
Kongo at the time that the European missionaries arrived,
he had already been “demonized,” although not to the
degree that the Europeans tended to demonize former deities.

Kalunga, because of his association with the ocean, became
associated in the Diaspora with the Yoruban Orishas Yemalla
and Olokun and subsequently changed gender to female. The
association of Kalunga with Yemalla and Olokun only occurred
after the Kongolese encountered the Yoruban pantheon. This
happened in the New World.

Remember that “Kongo” in the New World religious scene is a
“shorthand” for a large group of closely related peoples who
came here, not simply those who spoke Kikongo, although for
example in Cuba and North America those dominated. Still,
languages are very, very close in that area of Africa and
each culture and tribe had minor variations in belief and
usage. This makes a very flexible understanding necessary
when dealing with the development of Kongo-derived religions
in the Diaspora.

It is also necessary to point out that there are fundamental
differences between Kongo Palo and Yoruba Ocha beyond the
well-known adage that “Palo deals more with the dead than
Ocha,” while “Ocha deals more with the Gods.” Although Palo
does deal more with the dead than Ocha does, its true
distinguishing feature is that Palo is a religion based upon
the beliefs and religion of the Kongo – it is of Central
African Bantu tradition. Ocha, on the other hand, is a
completely different tradition. It is Yoruba, which is West
African and of the language (and cultural group) generally
referred to as Sudanese.

In Cuba, as elsewhere in the New World, the slaves of Kongo
origin eventually made an uneasy peace with the more recent
Yoruba arrivals from Nigeria in the 19th century.

The two mixed, and still do, somewhat uncomfortably, largely
because a fair number of people intermarried and people came
to have access to both religions as part of their ethnic
heritage. There are those who move between the two easily
and many more on both sides of this line who are ill at ease
with the other tradition. What is more important than the
subtleties of the interaction is the recognition that they
are not in reality two parts of the same tradition but two
distinct religions from vastly different and widely
separated cultures, the Yoruba and the Kongo.

The contemporary belief expressed by some Cubans and
Cuban-Americans that Ocha was considered “greater” than Palo
was a view largely advanced by the Yoruba and one rarely
shared by people of Kongo descent. Another Cuban idea, “Your
head belongs to Ocha [worship of the Gods], your back to
Egun [ancestor veneration]” is explained because the spirits
in Palo are not placed on your head but rather on your back.

In the Diaspora, two major varieties of Palo emerged over
the last hundred and fifty years. They are called in the
more Kongolese terminology Palo Nzambi and Palo Endoqui
(Ndoki). These have been glossed in Spanish, using European
equivalents, as Palo Cristiano and Palo Judio – “Christian
Palo” and “Jewish Palo.”

Without exception, all Cuban Paleros will agree on this
point: Those houses that follow Endoqui traditions (those
which are not syncretised with Christianity) are called Palo
Judio. All others (namely, Palo Nzambi) are Palo Cristiano.

The association of one type of Palo as “Jewish” in contrast
to “Christian” is unfortunately a negative one generally,
and it does not refer to Judaism per se. More accurately, it
really refers to the absence of Christian symbolism in the
religious practice. Palo Nzambi makes visible use of the
Crucifix and holy water in its religious articles while
Palo Endoqui avoids Christian symbolism.

It is worth noting that few Paleros who are Endoqui refer to
it using the European terms, but rather prefer the African
ones. Also, there are Paleros Endoquis who work with both
sets of symbolism and methods. And, I hasten to reiterate,
while Palo Endoqui, aka Palo Judio, is not Christian in its
orientation, you will find nothing relating to Judaism in it

Of course, as Palo really is a number of fairly closely
related religions and not one single tradition, there are no
absolute universals here, either.

No Jam (Part 2)

Characters: Reader x Markson (GOT7)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice-of-Life
Words: 4400

Plot: He said you were boring–not enough. You agreed. You were happier on your own anyways. But six months later you find yourself on a blind date with a new guy and late night talks with another. Looks like being forever alone is not on your agenda.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]


a/n - Yes, there is going to be a part 3 after all ^^ Thanks for reading!~


I stood outside the coffee house, fingering at my white sun dress and tapping my pink heels against the pavement nervously. Today was going to be the second date with Jackson and for some reason I was more nervous now than last time. Perhaps it was because we were going to go out this time, or maybe it was because I was more committed now. 

I hadn’t really considered last time to be a date. In my head, it was just a meeting and Jackson had arrived a whole hour early so I didn’t even have enough time to get nervous. So here I was, in one of my favorite dresses that suddenly felt too short and wearing the most make up I’ve ever had on my face since the break up six months ago.  

I couldn’t help feeling like I should’ve worn something else. Jackson refused to tell me what he planned for today. He insisted on surprising me and I had a gut feeling that I shouldn’t have worn white…or a dress for that matter. 

But as I was contemplating whether to go back home and change, Jackson came rushing my way looking like sunshine with his blond tresses and wide smile. He was in a casual t-shirt and jeans and suddenly I felt overdressed.  

But my worries were quickly pushed aside when I saw what he was holding. 

“You brought Bob?!” I exclaimed in disbelieve, giggles bubbling out of me. Jackson answered with a high-pitched laugh, holding the potted plant out proudly.

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Overcome (’95 Line Hogwarts AU Foursome Smut) (Part 3/?)

Summary: The after math of crazy night in the Hufflepuff common room has Jeonghan looking back on what (seemed) to be some much simpler times in his life. You, however, are trying to keep your head out of all the nonsense. But some amazing or terrible advice from a good friend and Seungcheol dangling his terribly amazing self in front of you makes things go downhill very, very quickly. Hogwarts AU. (Light) Smut.

(A/N: first of all, everyone on this blog is so sweet it’s giving me a toothache. your support, and your love and caring is probably the only motivation i had to really finish this. i love writing this and i love how it turned out, but it was so long and strenuous, you guys really helped me to the finish line. the whole ‘making out with your friend and it’s not gay’ thing is mildly inspired by Glee, cause yeah, i used to watch that back in my day, and yeah Britney and Santana was my shit. a couple of warnings: gayness, (despite the chapter title) mild gay sex, boy on boy kissing, a lot of fluff, very, very mild daddy kink, a little bit of angst. so if you’re not comfortable with any of that, please don’t read. also, whooo it finally has a title. the title is inspired by the Nu'est song because i love that song so so much, and that song is about magic and shit, but it’s also about love. and i just love the word overcome as a title because i feel like they all overcome so much to be with each other in the story. okay, enough crap, on with the reading. -Tanisha<3)  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 

Part 3: Obliviate 

It was coming up on the second full week since the incident in the Hufflepuff common room, and Jeonghan was a mess. A nervous wreck, that is to say. Being left on the couch with his own cum in his pants and yours still wet on his fingers had been like a dream, but what came after the both of you did made it more like a nightmare. When people say you’re not supposed to fuck your friends, this is exactly what they mean.

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anonymous asked:

1/2 (my attempt to insert some happiness into all your angsty cas death messages/fics lol.) Cas died on a random Tuesday. He came back on a random Thursday. There's no great light or big show. He just shows up in the doorway of the bunker's kitchen in the mid-morning. Dean is turned around at the counter, Sam is sitting at the table and glances up to the familiar figure standing in the doorframe, filthy and looking...well, looking like he'd been through death. Sam can't speak.

2/2 He stands up quickly and immediately feels like he’s going to pass out. “Hello, Sam.” Cas says in his polite, matter of fact way, dusting dirt from his own grave off of him. Sam, wide-eyed, looks to Dean, who is frozen still as if afraid to turn around. Dean squeezes his eyes shut. He’s had nightmares exactly like this. He turns around only when a gravely voice tentatively says “Hello, Dean.” Dean is there in three strides, crushing the angel to him. “You came back.” “Of course, Dean.”


Honestly I feel like Tr*mp made that tweet to overpower the fact that senate was voting on whether obamacare should be repealed without replacement and it’s really disgusting

Others Know. (For All the Wrong Reasons)

The Times They Remembered Pidge Was a Girl

Summary: The stuff you have to deal with while being a girl doesn’t change just because you’re up in space. At least you have four guys, five lions, and two aliens on your side. One-Shot Collection.

One-Shot 3: Others Know. (For All the Wrong Reasons)

(FF | | AO3)

Pidge doesn’t really act any differently from the rest of the Paladin’s. Yes, she has a personality of her own but she’s still a Paladin. And though this was a very big deal the fact that she was a girl seemed more important in this situation. This time it was because other individuals knew she was a girl. And for all the wrong reasons.

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anonymous asked:

So... My Cleric wants to destroy all arcane magic she deems "Unworthy". The GM gave her some Anti-magic Spell Scrolls. But my GM actually came to me and said there was no real way to "Destroy" magic. There's anti-magic, which stops magic, at least for a little while. But my question is... Can you actually destroy Magic? How would you even do it? Is there some Divine Magic that could do that?

Whether you can magically destroy all magic I suppose is up to your DM. Maybe use a wish spell to wish away all magic in the world. That would be up to your DM to decide if it would work.

But PHYSICALLY, nobody can stop you. Destroy all magic items you see, warn, wound or kill all magic users in your presence. Gain the power to raise a political group in favour of banishing magic, start wars, pass laws, dole out justice.

130. I have this headcanon that slytherins are like die hard party animals and will find any excuse to throw a party like “oh you found that pair of shoes you lost?” Sounds like a pretty good reason for a WEEK LONG BENDER and they’re all total know-it-all drunks debating and arguing and passing out at 3am mid political conversation with a lit cigarette and a beer and it’s up to the hufflepuff’s to cover them with a blanket and make sure they don’t burn/embarass themselves.

Fuck, trump is an awful excuse of a human being and leader but uhhhhhh his statement on Venezuela is actually good and uh…hopeful and I want him to follow through since he’s right that Venezuela was very much against the constitution rewrite.

I hate myself for agreeing with him but my family is suffering badly there (I can rant for days on this) and since he’s threatening action against them…

Dance with me

Lafayette x reader (gender not specified)

Some fluffy Lafayette requested by the lovely @guns-and-lafayeet​ hopefully this is fluffy enough!

I was listening to the song “Dance with me” from Smokey Joe’s Cafe

High school au (I’m so sorry with all the aus, they’re just so fun to write)

Word count: 2,210 ( ¡Caray! )

Warnings: I think there’s one swear word…


Originally posted by diggstrash

“So, y/n, you got a date to prom?” Was the first thing you heard when you sat down at your lunch table.

“Well, considering that a, I single, and b, tickets for prom are just now going on sale today, I have no date to prom.” You answered Alexander’s question. You pulled out you’re phone from your sweater pocket, scrolling through the fifty-some messages from Eliza and Angelica. Both asking you about prom.

More specifically if you had been asked yet.

You raised an eyebrow, looking back at the four boys sitting in front of you. Alex, John, and Hercules looked at you, devious smirks painted on their faces. Gilbert was flipping through pages of his calculus text book, occasionally stealing a glance at his phone, which happened to be lighting up with a new text message every few seconds.

“Has it become a universal question if I have a date to prom?”

“Oh no no, just wondering.” John said, looking particularly smug. “Ain’t that right, Laf?” He said nudging the french boy. Lafayette looked a little startled.

“Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” Gilbert answered, clearly having no idea what John had asked him.

“Soooooo,” You drew out, turning back to the three boys. “You guys going with anyone special?”

“I was thinking that we could go in a group, like last year.” Hercules spoke up. John nodded in agreement.


“Yeah we could go in a group again.” He mumbled out, glancing to his phone.

“You’re not going with Eliza? I thought you two were a thing?” You asked, suddenly intrigued by the short boy’s love life.

“No! I mean, we are, just…I don’t know, shut up.”


By the time the over-glorified dance had rolled around, plans had been arranged. John had a best car, so he would pick the rest of you guys up, go to the dance, then after prom at the Schuyler mansion.

Hercules had helped you pick out your outfit. The fabric was a deep blue, and had an almost silk-like texture. You had on your best pairs of shoes, and your hair had been done minimally. Prom wasn’t a big deal for you, so why go all out? You admired yourself in the mirror, pulling ridiculous poses.

Your phone buzzed.

TurtleNerd: yo, i’ll be there in a minute, be ready to just jump in.

You quickly responded with an “okay” and ran down the stairway, your mother standing at the foot of the stairs with her camera out.

“Honey, just a couple pictures so I can send them to auntie.” She said pulled on your arm, as you tried to step out the front door.

“Ma! I gotta go, John will be here soon, and he’s probably not going to stop the car.”

“Okay sweetie.” She called after you. “You better be home before three, I’ll make your father stay up if I have to.”

And at that very moment, John’s car rolled down your street, you ran to the curb, yanking the door open, and quite literally jumping in.

“Dude, I thought you were just joking when you said you wouldn’t stop.” You said after a moment of trying to catch your breath.

“Nope. My dad had to borrow my car when I got home from school, so I was late to pick up my tux. So sorry for being a bit late.” He took a moment to actually look at you at the stop light. “You clean up nice, by the way.”

“Not so bad yourself, Laurens.” He actually looked how he normally did, except, well in a tux. His hair was still in a ponytail of messy curls.

“Thanks, I actually tried to look decent this year.” He said, recalling a memory from last year’s dance. He had worn a random suit, and his date flipped because he wasn’t in proper “black-tie” attire, and he didn’t match her dress.

“Why? Tryin’ to impress someone?” You raised an eyebrow at him. His face flushed red, he pouted his lips turning away from you.

“No!” He managed to huff out.

Next to pick up was Alexander, who came out looking half way decent. The dark circles under his eyes were still very much visible, but her had actually brushed through his hair for once. Then came Gilbert, looking particularly dapper in his dark grey tuxedo.

“You look lovely, y/n.” Laf whispered as he climbed into the back seat.

“Aw, thanks Laf.” You gave him a smile. God he’s so handsome.

He squeezed into the center seat once John had gotten to Hercules’ house.

“Why did you stop for all of them, but not for me? I almost died trying to literally jump into the car!” You yelled over at the freckled boy in the driver’s seat.

“It’s funny to see you try and jump into the car.” He simply put, smirking over at you.

“He made you jump in? Dude, you’re such an ass.” Hercules scoffed.


A few other groups and couples had arrived when you had gotten to the dance.

It was held in a huge ballroom downtown, and the student council had really gone all out. It was decorated like a 1920′s dance hall, soft pink and purple light from the crystal chandeliers from above. Fluffy large ostrich feathers from tall black vases on the floor. A space in the center was clear of any decoration for the dance floor. It looked absolutely stunning.

“Let’s go grab a table.” You suggested. You all walked in a group to the other side of the room, to the round table near the back. Everyone sat down and situated themselves. You sat there for a few minutes, more groups coming into the ballroom. Music began to play, people grouping around in little circle on the dance floor. “So, is this going to be like last year, where we don’t dance at all?”

“Probably,” sighed John, resting his chin on his hand.You stood up with a huff putting your hands on your hips.

“Nuh-uh.” The boys looked up at you. “I did not spend 75 bucks on a ticket just so we could be wall flowers again. Someone, dance with me.”

You held your hand out for one of them to take. You were a bit surprised when they all stood up, walking out to the open floor.

After about an hour of group dancing, club songs, and the sin circle forming around the center of the dance floor, the lights dimmed down to a soft blue, the smooth voice of the DJ coming over.

“Alright you lovebirds, time for a little number for our sweethearts out there, this one’s for you all.”

A slow song.

You saw all the couples joining back up, leaving your single self alone. You walked back to your seat, where the rest of your friends were as well. You could tell they wanted to dance with someone. You could practically see the hearts Alex and Eliza were sharing from across the room.

“Alex,” you whispered. You looked over at you, startled. “Dance with her.”

He didn’t need any other prompting, he raced over to where the girl in powder blue, grabbing her hands taking her to dance.

You looked over at John. He sat there, cheeks red, occasionally glancing across the room. You traced his line of sight, seeing Peggy, looking like a drop of sunshine, sharing the occasional glance with John.

“For the love of God, John, ask her to dance.” You teased. He looked between you and Peggy for a moment, before rushing over to the younger Schuyler sister. You turned to Hercules, who was already standing up, making his way over to Maria, who stood by herself on the wall. Her boyfriend had left her half way through, leaving her by herself. You watched the two of them smile at each other, taking to the dance floor.

“Mon cher,” the French accent  made you look over. Gilbert stood in front of you, holding his hand out to you. “Dance with me?” He whispered. You nodded a yes, taking his hand in yours.

He took lead in the dance, placing his hands on the small of your back, keeping one hand in yours. You leaned into him slightly. You could feel him tense for a moment, but almost immediately relaxed to your touch. He took a deep breath, his hands shaking. You looked up at him, locking your eyes with him for a moment, your bodies still swaying to the music.

“Are you okay?” You spoke as softly as you could. You caught him by surprise with your question, and he accidentally stepped on your foot. You winced a little, but let it pass.

“Sorry, I am not very good at dancing.” He murmured. You gave him a smile.

“I think you’re doing wonderful.” Your voice was quiet enough only for him to hear.

The two of your froze were you stood. Something suddenly changed in his demeanor. He looked confident, but at the same time, nervous. A certain gravity began to pull the two of you closer. Your eyes his flicked between his eyes and lips. You both leaned in, eyes closing. So close to each other-

The song ended, club music instantly ruining the moment.

You both pulled away from each other, heat consuming your entire being. You gave Laf a nod, walking away to find Eliza. You found her back at her table with her sisters. You pulled out the extra chair, holding your head in your hands.

“Oh my god.” You whispered. The three girls laughed.

“What happened?” Eliza asked.

“Oh my god.” Was a you could say.


The rest of the dance, went by fairly quickly. Nothing too exciting happened, a couple had been escorted out of the ballroom after getting a bit to risque on the dance floor.

The ride to after-prom, however, was delightful. Meaning, it was so tense and awkward the entire drive to the Schuyler mansion. Alex called shotgun, meaning you ended up being squished between Gilbert and Hercules in the back. Alex wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing Eliza was, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if it was completely silent.

After-prom was however, quite exciting. For other people anyways. You had gotten there a little later, the party already in full swing. People passing out the infamous red cups. You politely declined, trying to find a placce to rest your tired body for a moment. You wandered around the large room. Perhaps a corner. Noooooo. Couples making out.

You decided just to go into the kitchen, which was mostly empty of anyone, aside from Eliza sometimes going in and out looking for people. You leaned against the counter, pulling out your phone. It was only 12:40. You inhaled deeply, releasing a moment later. Your mother would think something’s up if you came back early, plus you didn’t have a ride home this soon. You knew John had every intention of making the most of the young night, and wouldn’t want to leave early.

You ended up trying to kill time by switching through the same three apps; Tumblr, Snap-Chat, and Instagram. Until you were interrupted.

“Hey y/n.”

You turned to face the accented voice, knowing exactly who it was. You raked your fingers though your hair.

“Hey Laf.”

He leaned against the counter next to you. Silence.

“So. How are you?” He asked. You shrugged.

“Kinda tired. Not really feeling the whole after-prom thing.” He nodded in agreement. More silence. A sudden gnawing feeling began to overtake your stomach. You bit your lip.



You both spoke at the same time. The two of you laughed.

“You first.” You said.

“No, you first. I insist.”

“Okay,” you spoke. you could feel your face heat up, searching for the right words. “Oh god, how do I say this?”

“Mon cher, I apologize if I put you in an uncomfortable position earlier.” He said, gently taking your hand. “It was not my intention at all.”

You stared at this gorgeous man before you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips into his. It didn’t take more than a moment for him to respond. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him. You heart pounded against your chest, the unpleasant feeling in your stomach replaced by bursts of excitement. You pulled away after a minute, needing to catch a breath of air.

Lafayette laughed at himself.


“You know,” he started, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I was going to ask you to the dance.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I was nervous.”

“Well, you should have. It wouldn’t have been as expensive to go as a couple.”

“Wow y/n. Here I am telling you I love you, and your thinking about money.”

You kissed his lips again.

“Yeah, but I don’t like having my wallet empty.”

He kissed you with a bit more force.

“You, mon amour, are ridiculous.”

Ninety-two year old former President Jimmy Carter passed out from dehydration while working with Habitat for Humanity. He stayed in the hospital overnight, but was back and building things the next morning. The message he sent back to the build site was, ‘keep building, drink water.’ (X)

May we all aspire to be as good a person as Jimmy Carter.