#there should probably be two philip hamilton tags

[ourtalechara]

(in order for a relationship to be marked on here, it can occur ANYWHERE in the timeline. i.e., Burr is dating both his fellow revolutionaries and James Madison, but not at the same time.)

I don't know if this is a good shipping chart by any means. I don't know if this is even accurate to my personal headcanons. Why did I leave some characters out despite the fact that I have opinions on them? Why are Mulligan and Lee dating but Hamilton and Madison aren't? Do I really consider what Mulligan and Lee have going to be more meaningful or official than the Publius Polycule? Why did I not draw more lines, like ones from Burr to Jefferson and Lee? I don't know. I'm probably way more exhausted than I can probably even tell. I didn't even realize that I used the word probably twice in that last sentence until I reread it.

( @jadelemonadee , this isn't your shipping chart but I'm still going to tag you in it anyway)

[katie-writes24]

Last Chance

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x reader

Warnings: Language, suggestive material, brief religious content ig, angst, fluff, weddings, bad officiant script (if that makes sense), irl it’s kinda wrong but just go with it.

Part 2

I’ll just get straight to the point, Taylor Swift was the cause of this..... That’s it! You’re welcome, enjoy! Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Oh and also, can we appreciate that I finally figured out to put the ‘keep reading’ feature on because I finally set tumblr up on my computer? Yay me, this is a life changer you don’t even know!

As a kid, Y/N would be dragged to church every Sunday, told to represent her supposedly "religious" family. Her mother would force her into a dress, always reminding her to "sit like a lady" since there were always boys present, and you just never know. They would go and learn about the god above, be thankful that they were brought here, cheer his name. 

When she was fourteen, she went into church on a Monday, this time for a funeral. She automatically noticed the change in tone, obviously, but since then she looked at churches a bit different. They weren't praised as much, they held an entire different meaning, one that wasn’t very happy at all. No, she learned that churches could be just as devastating as celebratory. 

Like now, where people gathered in front of the steps, mingling and wearing expensive clothing. There was a truck on the lawn, workers were shoving different table sets across the road, where a large tent was set up. There was a group of people laughing a couple feet away, all looking down at a little girl with a white dress on. A stretch limousine rolled around and a few women climbed out with grace, all wearing the same pale color. 

Truly devastating. 

Y/N tugged at her own dress, hoping that the simple color would at least help her blend in with the crowd. Maria had told her it would be just fine, and it’s not like a new fancy dress was in her budget. 

Besides, it’s not like anyone here cares about her appearance. They’re not here for her. In fact, she hadn’t found one familiar face yet, which should be a good thing, but Y/N couldn’t help but wonder how many of these guests both parties even knew. 

“Would you ever get married?” 

He scoffed, “Marriage isn’t very meaningful is it, why should I have to document my love for you? As long as we both know it right?”

“Okay...I guess you’re right, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a nice tux.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but it didn’t bother him. 

“Is that all you’d want a wedding for? Because I will gladly put on a fancy tux if it meant you’d be down to-”

“Shut up! No, that’s not all. I’d like one, I’d think it’d be nice. It wouldn’t even have to be a big one.” She could see them by the beach, perhaps even getting married at the courthouse and use their money to blow on a big dinner after. She wouldn’t even mind a service in their apartment, it’s roomy. 

“Well, not like I have anyone for a big wedding anyways…”

She sat down next to him and stroked her fingers through his hair. “We’d invite our friends. I could invite my mom, you know she loves you. We don’t need a bunch of people to have a wedding.”

“Good, because I don’t want a giant guest list where there are different number tables and- a full service and a grand ceremony. I just...I just want you.”

She wonders how much of this is total bullshit. 

From where she’s standing, Y/N doesn’t think anyone would approach her. The lake is quite breathtaking, but the crowd is full of anxiousness and people are patiently waiting for the ceremony to start by the front of the church. 

Some people pass her by, and she picks up on certain terms, like how “beautiful the church is” or “she picked out the perfect dress, Philip was crying it was so pretty” and her favorite “just wait till you see this guy, they are just perfect for each other.”

Perfect. 

“I told you I can’t dance.”

“And I was a fool to not believe you. My feet are killing me,” He smirked and then laughed as she hit his shoulder. 

“Fuck off! Why are we doing this again?” She looked up at the sky that cracked before her, grey clouds mushing together.

“Because dancing in the rain is on my bucket list,” He twirled her around, pulling her close when she fumbled out of the turn. 

“Okay, what does that have to do with me? You’re telling me all your years before we met you couldn’t have gone outside and danced?” She grimaced as she felt drops of water against her skin. 

“Maybe I was waiting for the perfect person to do it with?” A hand wrapped around her waist and she chuckled. 

“Perfect? I am far from perfect,” They met each other’s stare and she got butterflies just seeing that look in his eye. 

“Well, then this is perfect,” The rain started to beat against the cement below them. “You and me, here right now, together. It’s perfect.”

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear anybody approach until they called her name. Y/N turned her head a little too fast, scared that she would be caught, there would be a giant scene, and then she would lose her chance at-

At what exactly? She didn’t know either.

“That’s really you, isn’t it?”

Hercules always was so welcoming, she never felt out of place when she was around him. In fact, he actually had a small smile on now, dressed nicely in his, most likely own, tailored suit. 

“Hey, Herc,” Y/N gripped her own arm, unsure if it was appropriate to go in for a hug. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, I made it myself.” He chuckled and opened his arms, allowing her to view his form. He looked just the same as she had seen him almost two years ago. 

“It’s definitely you! Did that business of yours ever hit it off with the investors?” Maybe she was aiming for small talk in hope of a distraction, she wasn’t ready for the obvious to be out in the open just yet. 

“No, but I’m working with something better. Got a lot of new line ups, good people to work with…” Hercules  trailed off with a fond smile on his face. 

“I’m really happy for you, Herc. You deserve it!” 

He smiled, “What about you? What have you been up to?”

Y/N winced and tried not to fidget. “Still working for the same place, I actually got a promotion a couple months ago, so I’ve been busy with that...But everything else has been...things are going well.” 

Hercules nodded, and just like a wave, tension flooded the air around them. 

Y/N refused to look up and meet his eyes, to either see full curiosity, disappointment or any other mood that would just make her feel sick to her stomach, will have her asking the same question over and over to herself. However, the silence couldn’t stay too long. 

“Y/N, what...why are you here?” 

An older woman was yelling at a worker, wanting more champagne for the bride's suite. She was aggressive, and yet the guests around her weren’t baffled at her behavior in the slightest. Y/N hated entitlement, hated more when the rich forgot that other people aren’t as fortunate enough as them. 

Y/N also hated that Hercules was still staring at her while she was wondering if her own mother would be so stressed as to the point of lashing out at others. 

“How long have they been engaged?” She finds herself asking only to quiet her thoughts of if they were stuck in one place and never seemed to want more. 

“Eight months,” Hercules sighed, never being one to push and always being honest. “Eliza’s sweet, she has a good heart. She’s loyal-”

Ouch.

“And she makes him happy.”

“Do you think we were ever… not happy?” Her eyes finally met his, instantly going soft and trying to word his answer carefully, even though Y/N could see a straight answer on his face. 

“I think...you guys worked around each other well. I think you enjoyed each other’s company, and maybe you might have been in love once, but that’s in the past. Right now, over a hundred people are going to celebrate what’s best for him and Eliza…”

He’s not marrying you, he’s not with you. 

It was something unspoken, but Y/N knew that was what Hercules was trying to get at, letting her know that her presence was unwelcome and that this was for the best. 

Why was she here? Why did she think that today would be the day to confess her feelings that never drifted away? Why was she so selfish, and think that her happiness was more important than-

Someone approaches them rather quickly, and it makes her turn and brace for an attack. 

Instead, it’s just John. 

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here, you weren’t invited!” He was loud and he was causing a scene, something Y/N definitely did not want. He actually looked like he was about to jump her, but before he could move any closer Hercules puts his arm on John’s chest to block him. 

“Relax, John,” Hercules looked back at her with a pointed look. “Y/N was just leaving.”

There was a pause, and she almost believed that yes, she was leaving. This was her cue, no one wanted her here, she wasn’t supposed to be here. Who is she to ruin a wedding? How could she do something so terrible?

“You should move in,” He ran his hand over her back, listening to her slow breaths. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It’d be nice, having you here all the time?” He knew she was drifting off and probably wasn’t even registering what he was saying. He was proven wrong when she raised her head to look at him in the dark light. 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt seeing you all day,” Y/N smirked as he nudged her with his leg. She kissed his chest and smiled down at him. “If I move in, there’s no turning back. Rent is too high for me to be switching back and forth.”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else I'd want you to be.”

Y/N gave him a curt nod, walking backwards a bit before fully turning around. She walked all the way pass the church, passed the parking lot, all the way down to the end of the lake. She was out of sight. 

But there was no way she was leaving. There was no way she was going to give up her last chance. 

Even from where she stood, she could hear the beats of the traditional wedding music pick up, cheers from the crowd pick up as everyone hustled inside. 

Her feet moved before she could even make a decision. 

There was an elderly couple just walking into the room, and luckily the man held the door open for her. She thanked him and took the grand venue in. On each bench there was a bouquet of flowers, a white row leading up to the altar. It was packed, and Y/N could only imagine how many people she was about to shock. 

She sat in an empty aisle seat in the back, and finally realized that Eliza was just reaching the top of the stairs, kissing her fathers cheek before he gave her over to him. 

“Should I get a haircut?”

“No. I like it the way it is. You have nice hair, it’s soft and always so full. Why would you want to chop it off?” She caressed said hair. 

“Eh, it’s too long. I think it’s a hassle to work with when I’m getting ready for work. I don’t know…” He looked in the mirror with a pained face. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, leaning her cheek on his back. 

“Well, personally, I like it. But it is your hair. You know I’d love you either way.”

“Are you just being biased?” 

“Mmh, well, I can’t say I don’t like having something to pull on.” She tugged and he whimpered before turning and kissing her, a full grin on his face. 

He looked just like Y/N imagined him. In fact he hasn’t changed, except maybe the circles under his eyes got a bit darker. His hair was neatly wrapped in a ponytail behind his head, sharp tux on, a smile on his face.

Except none of that was for Y/N, it was for another woman. 

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she cleared her throat, tapping her foot nervously as the officiant started speaking. 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Alexander and Elizabeth.”

“Stop being such a poor sport.”

“You so cheated! You know what, it’s fine. Because I know what really happened.”

“I’ll tell you what happened: Mr. Hamilton sucks at Mario Kart!”

“You take that back!”

“Through their time together, they have realized that their goals and dreams are more meaningful through a combined effort and mutual support provided in love.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You got promoted, Alex! You’ve come so far since we met. You work so hard, you stay late at work, you stress yourself out far too much for my liking. But you got exactly where you wanted to be! And from here you can only go up! I’m proud of you!”

He smiled, kissing her knuckles and thanking her. 

“As we create this marriage, we create a new bond and a new sense of family.”

“I hope our kids have your eyes.”

“If we’re thinking about children, I have no problem shoving them right back if they don’t look exactly like you.”

“Alex, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying. Your eyes, your nose, I even want them to be as witty as you.”

“I hope they don’t have your sense of style.”

“Hey!”

“Now, before we begin the vows, if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony-”

“You’re acting crazy!”

“No, I’m acting reasonable! You can’t seriously think that you were just going to let this go?”

“Where are we going, Y/N? We’re stuck in this one spot, and I can’t do it anymore!”

“Then don’t!”

“Let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you…” She wiped the tears from her eyes as he held her closely to his chest. “And I’m terrified.”

Y/N stands without letting herself have any more doubts. 

Almost immediately, attention is drawn. There are gasps in the crowd, one woman even let out a horrid yell. The man sitting a couple feet away even scoffs, like Y/N’s idea was ridiculous. It’s enough commotion that causes the bride and groom to look her way. 

Warmth filled her as his brown eyes connected with hers. 

It went in flashes, Alexander’s emotions. First he was a bit confused, almost as to why their loved ones were making such noise. Then, it was anger, finally realizing that it was because someone was objecting to his wedding. And as their eyes connected, it was like he was sad. 

Maybe it was because he hasn’t seen her since she walked out. Maybe it was because she was ruining his special day. Maybe it was because he knew she lost her chance years ago, and that even he knew it was too late. 

Maybe it was because he knew the outcome of this. 

Y/N took a shuddering breath, before saying the three words that could easily crush the hearts of everyone in this room. But she ignored the appalled crowd, she ignored the angry face of John right next to Alex, she didn’t even want to see how broken Eliza must look right now. 

Instead, she focused on the very small quirk of Alexander’s lips, the small chance of hope that was promised. 

[wwonder-landd]

Talks on TikTok

Pairing: Jordan Fisher x Female Reader

Warnings: Some bad words, my bad this whole thing is one bog self insert!

Request? Yes! Tagged @johnlaurensbitch​ and anon request!! this is probably a very late request,, considering i’m never on tumblr.

Preview: kinda self explanatory?? but basically reader duets jordan’s tiktok and he sees it and messages her!!

Y/F/N is Your Friend’s Name!!

Masterlist

TikTok was a relatively new app in your life. You had done a few POV’s and also sang along to the Sofia The First song to “broadway attractive men: sing-a-long edition” specifically to sing along for Thayne Jasperson and Jordan Fisher. It had become a new obsession, as you replied to comments and liked funny ones that made you laugh when you couldn’t sleep.

As you swiped through your For You page and liked a few, you received a comment notification. @username: @yourusername please duet this!!! 

Upon reading the comment, you first checked the username to make sure it wasn’t a weird bot account, and you realized it was not. After that, you clicked the video and it took you to Jordan Fisher’s account. 

The video was a 60 second clip of Jordan singing the Orpheus part of “All I’ve Ever Known” from Hadestown. You already knew the song and you had seen Reeve in the Original Broadway Cast, alongside Eva Noblezada, prior to Coronavirus putting every inch of Broadway in the dark.

Below the video, the caption said “Duet this as Eurydice! Let me hear your voices! :) #fyp #hadestown #duet.”

Maybe you could duet it? Of course you could, it was just a simple sixty second video, it wouldn’t change or affect your life in any way shape or form. At least that’s what you initially thought.

Clicking the small swishy arrow, then clicking duet, you sang your part and finalized the video, with the caption ‘The Orpheus to my Eurydice! Cast Jordan as Orpheus or you’re cowards!!! #fyp #bway #duet #hadestown’ Granted the duet itself wasn’t anything professional and was merely for fun, as you assumed Jordan would never see it, let alone anyone from Broadway that would see your poke at the Hadestown casting directors.

You went to text your friend about your recent Glee binge while pressing play on the next episode, though Netflix should know you by now. Of course you’re ‘still watching,’ that shouldn’t even be a question. You decide to grab the bag of chips off of the coffee table before plopping yourself on the couch and settling into the plot that was the storm of Glee.

Two episodes in and your phone vibrates beside you. 

Y/F/N Calling...

You accept the call and raise the phone to your ear.

“Oh my God! You saw it right? Tell me you saw it?” they shrill into your ear.

“What is ‘it?” What are you talking about?”

“Come on Y/N... Jordan commented on your post!”

“No way.. What the fuck!? Let me go see.” you respond before adding, “hold on, I’ll call you back.”

Sure enough, you opened TikTok and there was the notification, or the many notifications...

@jordan_fisher: YOU KILLED THIS! 😍

Another notification popped up, this time a little paper airplane depicting a dm.

Jordan Fisher: 

Hey! You did so good on that duet!! 

Does he do that to everyone who duets? What was going on...

You take a screenshot and send it to Y/F/N with ‘tell me i’m reading this wrong... this is fake...’ undernearth the screenshot.

You go back to TikTok and reply, or try to, as Y/F/N floods you with texts. ‘OMG DATE’ ‘WTF NO WAY’ ‘OMG SIS U HAVE TO’ ‘MESSAFE HIM’ ‘FLIRT FLIRT PLS OMH DO IT NOW FOT ME’

Y/N L/N:

Thank you! That means so much coming from you! Yours was phenomenal

He responded almost instantaneously.

Jordan Fisher: 

Well I kinda do the singing thing for a living. Seriously though, do you sing? I’ve seen some of your videos, you’re really good!

Now he wants to actually know you? Not only that, but he’s creeped on your TikTok? He doesn’t do this with everyone... right?

Y/N L/N:

Well I knew that much. I sing in the shower! Not professionally, but I’ve written some stuff.. I wish I had the guts to get out there!

You were actually shaking, and didn’t know what to even say to him. This was all so surreal to you.

Then you got an Instagram notification. 

@jordan_fisher has followed you!

Followed by a TikTok notification that Jordan had duetted you back. The duet was Jordan staring at the screen with a smile on his face while you sang the Eurydice part, then adding “OH MY GOD SHE’S LITERALLY SO GOOD!” to the end. 

Comments flooded in left and right, follows on Instagram.. It seemed endless. You decide to mess with him and message him on Instagram. 

@YourUsername: 

You stalking me or something? 🤔

@jordan_fisher: 

Maybe it’s something like that. Or maybe you just caught my eye.

@YourUsername:

Is that so?

@jordan_fisher:

Yeah, you really blew me away!

@YourUsername:

Okay Philip Hamilton blow us all away tease! Btw you did so good in that show! 

@jordan_fisher:

You saw it?

@YourUsername:

Yeah I saw you as Philip and John, but couldn’t stagedoor :( but here I am talking to you so!

@jordan_fisher:

Well I’m glad the universe worked out that way!

@YourUsername:

Literally how many people can say they’re talking to their childhood crush on Instagram? Not many!

@jordan_fisher:

Childhood crush huh?

@YourUsername:

Let’s just say my younger sibling had a thing for Liv&Maddie😂

@jordan_fisher:

That’s cute though! Gotta start somehow. This is totally random, and you can say no, but what would you say to coffee sometime?

@YourUsername:

I’d say that I’ll need your number to let your know when your order is ready, just like Starbucks!

@jordan_fisher:

Oh right, like Starbucks...😂 xxx-xxx-xxxx

@YourUsername:

I’ll text you the plan yeah?

@jordan_fisher:

Can’t wait!

-

yikes, when this is some really bad writing and a weird ending???? it’ll probably be a part two or something idk i didn’t have an idea for the next bit?? so if anyone has any ideas pls hit the ask box up.. but beware i really forget that thing exists ajdakkjf IM GETTING BETTER AT TUMBLR I SWEAR IM RELEARNING THE WRITING THING AND THE TUMBLR THING.. trust the process pls bc i miss writing and i want ppl to like the stuff i write!! also sorry for the weird title,,, again, still getting used to this stuff again :/

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Not Your Sugar

*Hamilton Fic, No Pairing

*Request: @musicgoddessog asked: Can you do a Hamilton fic with a black reader where the reader is Hamilton’s cousin from the Caribbean and she goes with him to a cabinet meeting. Everyone doubt her, but it turns out she’s really smart. I feel like not many people write black x readers for this fandom even though the cast is full of minorities.

*Warnings: Swearing, I think. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: Sorry this request took me so long, for a while it was really hard to come up with anything that would do it justice. I changed the prompt a bit, instead of a cabinet meeting, Reader goes with Hamilton to a meeting with Jefferson and Madison. SO I WENT TO EDIT THE TAGS ON THE APP AND GUESS WHO ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ENTIRE POST HAHA THANKS TUMBLR VERY COOL

Outfit

**********

You’d been planning this trip to New York for a while now. It’d been years since you’d been able to see your cousin and his family, and you were excited. Alexander had been constantly talking to you about all the bullshit he’d been going through at work, and you couldn’t wait to give your two-cents to Alexander’s coworkers. Well, as much as you could without getting him fired. You were actually confident that you could get away with a lot considering how much you knew Alexander undoubtedly got away with at work. The second you landed at JFK, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement overtaking you. 

Once you dealt with all the nonsense of going through customs, Alex and Eliza got you from the airport. The last time you’d seen them had been at their wedding, and now you were greeted by their little nine-year-old son. You couldn’t believe how much time had passed, but that didn’t matter now. You were here for about a month and you already had so much that you needed to do. Sure you were going to have fun while you were here, but you were also determined to get something done in the meantime.

You were looking forward to hanging out with Alexander and his family, but you were pleasantly surprised by the group waiting for you at their house. Eliza planned a welcome party for you, inviting Alexander’s close friends and her sisters, all people you hadn’t seen since the wedding nine years ago. You got along well enough with everyone, especially Eliza’s older sister. Both of you worked in the public sphere; Angelica lobbying for interest groups, and you working as a representative in the government. 

The two of you were in a passionate discussion about representation in your respective governments. You were one of the four women in the National Assembly of St. Kitts and Nevis, and even though there were only fifteen members of the Assembly, representation was still a major issue in your book. As you and Angelica were talking, it seemed like one of Alexander’s friends - John, if you remembered correctly - was drawn to your conversation. It wasn’t all that surprising; Alexander and a lot of his friends were very political beings, so a conversation about politics was bound to grab someone’s attention.

John stood nearby, waiting for the conversation to come to a natural lull before addressing you. “So, how do you know so much about politics? Is it a hobby or something?” John asked, the sincerity in his voice slightly taking you off-guard. Sure, you were used to the casually ignorant comments from people who weren’t really well-versed in politics, but it was new coming from someone who had such a politically active group of friends. Angelica in particular didn’t like John’s comment, already shooting him a fatal glare.

“I’m actually a member of the National Assembly,” you explained. John immediately read the room, feeling the slight tension coming from you and the definite tension coming from Angelica.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. Alexander talks about you a lot but he never told us what you do for a living,” John apologized profusely. His apology seemed genuine enough, so you decided to let it go. It wouldn’t do anyone good for you to tear John a new one for something he seemed to genuinely not be aware of. No, you could save that for people that were ignorant, and then assholes about it.

**********

The first week was spent sight-seeing, primarily with Eliza and little Philip since Alex was so busy with work. You absolutely adored the two, but you were eager to go to work with Alex and see how his government worked on the inside. You had a feeling he was waiting for things to calm down a bit at work, because if there was one thing you shared with Alexander, it was your temper.

You’d just come back to the Hamilton household from another day of sightseeing with Philip and Eliza when you heard Alexander practically yelling on his phone. Eliza immediately sent Philip to his room, so you could tell this wasn’t the first time work had followed Alex home. Then again, if you worked in politics, you never really got to leave work at work. You could only imagine how it was for Alexander.

Once Philip was back in his room, you and Eliza made your way to Alexander’s office. Alex looked like he was two seconds away from murdering whoever was on the other end of the phone call. Eliza gave you a look that let you know this definitely wasn’t the first time this had happened. Alexander shot you both a pained look, as if either of you’d be able to stop whatever the person on the other end was saying. He finally hung up with an exaggerated sigh, spinning in his chair to fully face you and Eliza. Eliza went and sat on the arm of his desk chair, wrapping her arms around him. “What happened this time?”

“Madison and Jefferson are trying to block the bill I’m backing,” Alex whined as he rested his head on Eliza’s chest. “Now Washington wants me to have a meeting with them to try and compromise.”

“Were you yelling at Washington?” Eliza asked. Alex nodded, a glum look on his face. “Alexander, you know there’s only so much he’ll tolerate from you. You’re going to have to go to this meeting.”

“It’s not like going to this meeting will end up any different than the cabinet meetings. They’ll just end up ganging up on me and no progress will be made,” Alex complained.

“I can mediate if you need me to,” you offered. “You won’t be outnumbered that way, and as long as it’s public information, you won’t get in trouble, right?”

“That’s actually not a terrible idea. I’ll probably have to clear it with Washington, but I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it,” Alex said, looking at you. “Promise you’ll behave though?”

“I know for a fact you never do, why should I?” You questioned with a raised brow. “We’re Hamiltons, Alex, it’s not like it’s in our nature to behave.” The thing was, you could tell exactly why Alexander was telling you to behave. It was the exact same reason you’d always been told to behave as you were growing up. While your cousin definitely inherited the light skinned genes in your family (definitely from his father), you got the black genes. People always tended to look down on you with your dark skin and curly hair. Throw that in with the fact that you were a woman, and you always had to ‘behave’ if you wanted to be taken seriously. You could easily challenge Alexander on stuff like this, but with other people it was a bit more difficult. You weren’t stupid, you knew how these things worked.

Alexander let out a resigned sigh, knowing his words of caution wouldn’t be able to stop you like he would have preferred. The thing was, you were willing to hold your tongue to keep your cousin out of trouble, but the second someone disrespected or underestimated you, all hell would break loose. “Just please don’t get me fired,” Alex told you after a few more seconds.

“I’ll try my hardest not to get you fired,” you promised, trying to hold in your excitement at finally being able to go with Alexander to work.

**********

It only took a few days for Washington to clear you for the meeting, and before you knew it, you and Alexander were on your way to the White House. After you got your security pass, Alexander led you through the halls of the building. He was going through the ‘rules’ for you, each of which you took with a grain of salt. If anything, you were way better behaved on your worst days than Alexander would ever be, so it wasn’t like he could give you any advice that was actually worthwhile.

“Okay, and most importantly, don’t let me get into a fight with Jefferson. I’ve already hit him once and I feel like Washington won’t let it slide this time,” Alexander explained as you reached the conference room.

“I don’t think I let it slide the last time, Hamilton,” someone said, walking up behind you. Alex immediately straightened his posture, so you were pretty sure you knew who was behind you. That wasn’t even considering the conversation he intervened in.

“Mr. President,” Alexander greeted. You turned, and sure enough, the President was standing right behind you, a few Secret Service agents standing a few feet back. 

“Secretary Hamilton. Representative Hamilton, I presume?” Washington said, holding his hand out to you.

“President Washington, it’s an honor. Thank you for letting me come in to work with Alexander,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Of course. From where this conversation was going, I can see that Hamilton needs supervision for the meeting.” You almost missed Washington’s dry humor, not expecting something like that right from the start. From everything you’d heard about the President, he was a very serious man.

“He’s needed my supervision since we were kids,” you decided to joke back. You heard Alexander’s small noise of protest from beside you, but you were more focused on the slight chuckle Washington gave in response. You felt a small burst of pride, and you could immediately tell why Alexander always wanted to make Washington proud, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“If you don’t mind, Representative Hamilton, I’d like to have a word with Secretary Hamilton before the meeting.” You nodded, knowing Alex was probably going to get a set of rules similar to the one he was trying to give you.

“Of course. I’ll see you inside, then,” you told Alex, placing a hand on his shoulder. Alex nodded, but you could already feel the tension in him. You took one last look at the two before entering the conference room, shocked to find the other members of the meeting already sitting there. They paused mid-conversation and just stared at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Sorry, sugar, we have this conference room booked for a very important meeting in a few minutes,” one of them addressed you as if he were talking to a child. You recognized him from the news, and the magenta tie he was wearing just gave it away even more. Secretary of State, Thomas Jefferson. You couldn’t help but immediately arch a brow at his use of the pet name.

“I’m not-”

“Unless you’re Hamilton’s secretary, then you're more than welcome to join us until Hamilton arrives. I heard he hired a new one, but I haven’t had the chance to see who it was until now,” the other man - who you could only presume to be James Madison - directed the last part to Jefferson, only momentarily addressing you. Jefferson immediately perked up at the prospect of you being a secretary.

“Oh, are you? I could really use some coffee then, sweetheart.” Again with the pet names. You couldn’t help the slight frown that already threatened your cool façade.

“I’m not Hamilton’s secretary, and the whole coffee thing sounds more like something an assistant would do as opposed to a secretary,” you replied, tone icy. “Though I don’t suppose you’d see the difference, since they’re both traditionally female roles.”

“So, then, who are you?” Madison asked, choosing to ignore your sass. You were glad Madison asked, because if Jefferson threw one more pet name at you, you were sure you’d end up throwing a punch. It wasn’t difficult to see why Alexander didn’t like Jefferson; Jefferson was just so condescending with every word that left his mouth.

“I am Representative Hamilton of the National Assembly of St. Kitts and Nevis.” The formal introduction with your full title was always a power move. You straightened your back, looking both men directly in the face. Madison couldn’t look you in the eyes, eyes darting everywhere to avoid yours, as he took out a handkerchief to cough into. Jefferson, on the other hand, just had an amused little smirk on his face and a glimpse of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes. It was like he’d roped you into playing his game without even knowing what the game was just yet.

“Okay, sugar-”

“Not your sugar,” you immediately cut Jefferson off. “I’m here to mediate the meeting between the three of you, so it would do you well to behave professionally, Secretary Jefferson.”

“I can definitely see how you’re related to Hamilton,” Madison muttered. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes; it probably wouldn’t help Alex if you antagonized the people he was supposed to come to an agreement with. Before anyone could annoy anyone else further, the door to the conference room opened.

“Sorry I’m late, President Washington wanted to talk to me outside,” Alex said, closing the door behind him. He looked at the group in front of him, and immediately sensed that something bad had happened in the whole five minutes he’d been talking to Washington. “(Y/n), what happened?”

“Secretary Jefferson here decided to call me pet names, and then Representative Madison made the assumption that I’m your new secretary,” you explained, going to take a seat across from the two in question. Alexander quickly masked his shock as he took the seat next to you. With the drop of his binder on the table, you knew it was time. “Right then, gentlemen, shall we begin this meeting?”

**********

The meeting was pretty standard as political affairs go, although there were the occasional personal jabs from both sides. There was a lot of back and forth, with no real progress being made either way. Whenever you could tell Alex was getting too heated, you placed a hand on his arm to keep him grounded. During a particularly nasty bout, you couldn’t help but reel in disbelief at Jefferson’s words.

“I don’t understand why you’re pushing so hard for this. You know it’s just going to increase the deficit further. Shouldn’t you actually care about what’s going on in our budget, Secretary of the Treasury?” Jefferson questioned, an obvious jab. Alex was about to say something, but you just held your hand out to stop him.

“No, I’ve got it,” you said. “Secretary Jefferson, I don’t know how to explain to you that you should have compassion for others. This is a bill for healthcare reform, for God’s sake. And I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but both of your state’s constituents would greatly benefit from this bill. To be honest, I’d expect a movie villain of some type to attempt to block a bill that would help those who are the most financially and medically vulnerable, but I’m watching this stereotypical plot unfold right in front of me. It’s sickening.”

 The silence that flooded the room was almost suffocating, no one expecting that outburst. You could feel the heat flooding your face as you found yourself the center of attention, but you didn’t regret it one bit. It was a matter of humanity at this point, and you couldn’t even believe that this topic was up for discussion, let alone debate.

After your outburst, the rest of the meeting proceeded without (too many) further arguments. It seemed like Jefferson and Madison needed that scolding to come to their senses. When the meeting finally ended, there hadn’t been much progress, but there was slight progress in Alexander’s favor. You and Alex left the conference room, already talking about plans for lunch since the meeting took so long.

“Representative Hamilton, wait!” Jefferson called out from behind you. You and Alexander paused, turning to see Jefferson quickly approaching the two of you.

“Secretary Jefferson,” you acknowledged, still irritated with his attitude during the meeting.

“I have to admit, the way you held yourself in that meeting was incredible. I’ve met few people that can hold their own like that. Would you like to grab a drink with me later?” You looked over at Alex, who seemed to barely be keeping it together. You, on the other hand, saw your opening to get back at him for all the little condescending comments he made, the pompous way he held himself, everything that made you dislike him within minutes of meeting him.

“I’d rather be in another hurricane,” you replied with the most sincerity you could manage. You heard Alexander choke on air beside you.

“I beg your pardon?” Jefferson asked.

“Then beg. C’mon, sugar, I thought you’d be smarter than to ask out someone you just spent the past few hours patronizing.” That time Alexander couldn’t hold in his laugh. With a tight-lipped smile, you turned on your heel and proceeded to walk down the hall, Alexander following close behind.

**********

Permanent Tag List: @spidey-pal 

[undiscoveredstory]

if you're down for it, could we get some philip hamilton facts? he seems like a p neat guy!!

Since I murdered your emotions with his parents’ reaction to his death last night, I figured we’d make tonight’s topic a little less sad! (Tho I will still cover his death... you have been warned!) 

Philip Hamilton was born at the Schuyler Mansion in Albany on January 22, 1782

He was named for Eliza’s father, Philip Schuyler

(Pretty much all the Schuyler children named a kid Philip... it’s hella confusing) 

Philip spent the first two years of his life with his parents at the Schuyler Mansion

This is how Ham described Philip when he was only seven months old: 

“It is agreed on all hands that he is handsome, his features are good, his eye is not only sprightly and expressive, but it is full of benignity. His attitude is sitting by its connoisseurs esteemed graceful and he has a method of waving his hand that announces the future orator. He stands however rather awkwardly and his legs have not the delicate slimness of his father’s. It is feared He may never excel as much in dancing which is probably the only accomplishment in which he will not be a model. If he has any fault in manners, he laughs too much.” (Hamilton to Richard Meade)

Philip traveled with Eliza from Albany to Philadelphia in January of 1782 to visit Hamilton where he was currently staying while in the Confederation Congress

He was baptized alongside his sister Angelica and brother Alexander at Trinity Church on October 12, 1788, when he was six

His Schuyler grandparents, Aunt Angelica Schuyler Church, and Baron von Steuben were present for the baptism 

Eliza taught the children at home when they were young

She paid special attention to religious instruction, as she was very pious

Philip’s brother, James, recalled that Eliza had the boys each read a chapter from the Bible or a chapter from The History of Rome by Oliver Goldsmith each morning while she prepared breakfast

When Angelica had to end her visit to NYC and return to England in 1789, Philip, then seven, went with his father and Baron von Steuben to the docks to see her off

(Eliza was too distraught at her sister’s departure to attend...) (Are you crying?) (Because I sure am!)

Philip went to a boarding school in Trenton, New Jersey when he was nine

He seemed to have been happy there, and was a good student!!

In 1791, when Philip was nine, he spent the summer with his mother and siblings at the Schuyler Mansion to escape yellow fever, which was running rampant in Philadelphia 

In 1793, yellow fever struck Philadelphia again, and this time Hamilton contracted it

He and Eliza put the children in a house adjoining to theirs to keep them safe from the disease

But then Eliza fell ill, too.....

So the children were sent to the Schuyler Mansion

Can we just imagine how scary that must have been for Philip and his siblings?! 

He was only eleven!!!

He was leaving his parents behind, not knowing if he’d ever see them again

Yellow Fever was deadly, so the possibility of Ham and/or Eliza dying was all too real

Thankfully they survived, though, and were reunited with their children at Albany that fall :’)

In 1800, when Philip was 18, Hamilton wrote up this super intense set of rules for him

Philip had to get up by 6 every morning from April to October and had to go to bed by 10 all year

The main focus of the schedule was studying law

This makes sense as Philip would have been in college at the time

Philip attended Columbia College (now University), just like his father, graduating at the age of nineteen in 1801

He graduated with high honors!!! :’)

He was also known for being a good orator, much like his father!

(He also seemed to like flowery speech like his father lmao)

And he’d studied to be a lawyer, also like his father

Angelica in a letter to Eliza wrote: “Philip inherits his father’s talents”

Hamilton thought of Philip as the shining star of the family, referring to him as the “eldest and brightest hope”

He did have a bit of a bad side, with Hamilton once referring to him as “Naughty young man” in a letter

On July 4, 1801, George Eacker gave a speech disparaging Hamilton

Philip came across it in its published form and was appalled at everything Eacker blamed his father for

On November 20, 1801, Philip saw Eacker at the Park Theatre in Manhattan, where he was watching The West-Indian

Philip and his friend snuck into Eacker’s box and started going at him for his 4th of July speech

Witnesses said Eacker tried to ignore Philip and his friend at first, but they began to disrupt the theatre

They stepped into the lobby, and things escalated quickly 

Eacker grabbed Philip by the collar at one point

They went to a tavern after this, and Eacker, for the second time, called Philip and his friend rascals (which was a big insult in the time period)

It became obvious they were going to settle this on the dueling grounds

Philip consulted his Uncle John Church (Angelica’s husband), as he was the family’s dueling expert

(That should tell you a lot about John Barker Church lmao)

He suggested Philip try to resolve it with letters first, since he’d started the confrontation 

Eacker refused to take back calling Philip a rascal

So at 3:00 PM on November 23, 1801, Philip and Eacker dueled at Paulus Hook, New Jersey

At his father’s advice, Philip planned to delope, or fire his gun into the air

When Philip and Eacker were commanded to fire, they both stood there staring at each other for a few minutes

Then Eacker raised his gun...

Philip raised his gun....

Eacker fired, and shot Philip above his right hip–– the bullet going through his body to his left arm

Philip’s gun fired, but likely not on purpose

Philip was taken to Angelica’s home in Manhattan

Henry Dawson recalled Philip’s final hours:

“On a bed without curtains lay poor Phil, pale and languid, his rolling, distorted eyeballs darting forth the flashes of delirium. On one side of him on the same bed lay his agonized father, on the other his distracted mother, around his numerous relatives and friends weeping and fixed in sorrow.”

Philip Hamilton died on November 24, 1801, fourteen hours after the duel

The last thing he said was a statement of his faith in Christ

You can read about Hamilton and Eliza’s reaction to his death here

His mother, who was three months pregnant at the time of his death, named her final baby Philip in his honor 3 

Well, my emotions are once again murdered! I hope you found this useful! Thank you for indulging my love of history!

(Read Eliza Schuyler Facts Part One) (Read Eliza Schuyler Facts Part Two)(Hamilton insulted Eliza?) (Was Eliza smart?) (How did Eliza react to Ham’s death?) (Tench Tilghman’s crush on Eliza)

(Read Peggy Schuyler Facts) (Read Cornelia Schuyler Facts) (Read Info on Schuyler Siblings) (Read Caty Schuyler Facts)

(Read Lafayette Facts Part One) (Read Lafayette Facts Part Two) (Read Lafayette Facts Part Three)

(Read Lams Facts) (Read about John Laurens’ sexuality) (Do Laurens’ letters to Hamilton still exist?) (Read John Laurens Facts Part One)

(Read Angelica Hamilton Facts) (John Church Hamilton: Letter Ruiner) (How did Hamilton and Eliza react to Philip’s death?)

(Read Hercules Mulligan Facts) (Read Deborah Sampson Facts) (Read Maria Reynolds Facts) (Did Nathan Hale and Ben Tallmadge have a relationship?) (How did Mulligan and Lafayette react to Hamilton’s death?)

(My history tag)

[jo-the-schmo]

Mending...Ch.2

Mending Rachel

A/N: Okay, so, I cried while writing this…So, y’all better appreciate this!

Warnings: Gay?

Word count: 1792

Tags: @happypineappleapple @sunsetleslie @sweaterkitty-fluff (if anyone else wants to be in the tags, tell me)

Mending Angie

She stared down at the worn piece of paper in her hand. A shaking hand, filled with sorrow that shook itself went down to the core of her being. She remembered making at least four different versions of this speech, she had been so proud of it. Tears rhythmically dripped onto her hand, rolled down her thumb, and collected against the parchment as she tried to hold back those very tears. She had to have recited it a hundred times by now, but she still felt compelled to do it once more, because no one was ever going to hear it.

“A toast to the groom…, to the bride…from your s-sister who is always by your side… To your union and the h…hope that you provide… May you always be sa-satisfied…But I needn’t say such a thing…as I know that you always will b-be…” It broke her heart so much. She didn’t even flinch when she heard her door open.

“Angelica! My angel…” It was her mother, rushing to be by her side. Her eyes were puffy and irritated. “I am so sorry…” She whispered to the weeping angel, wrapping their arms tightly around each other.

“It’s not fair…It’s not fair, Mom! What kind of world does this?” Angie was no longer just sad, she was angry. It didn’t make sense, being so full of despair that you were enraged.

“Shhh…I know, my darling…I know.” Angie pulled away from her mother.

“I was going to be her bridesmaid! Her maid of honor! She was going to be my sister….” She paused for a moment, words faltering. “She was my sister…” Looking at the black fabric clinging to their bodies only made her feel worse. Angie pushed herself up off of her bed, pacing around the room. Her mother could only watch, she knew her daughter, knew that she would not be able to comfort her. Angie was the never type to need comfort to begin with, it was very rare for her to be this upset. “I have to do something!” Angie screamed.

“Angelica…There is nothing you can do. I know it hurts but-“ Eliza was cut off.

“No! There were so many things that she wanted, for herself, for me, for everyone! But no one is doing anything about it! Philip can’t even get out of bed!”

“Hush! He is right next door!” Eliza reminded her.

“Mama, I can’t just sit around anymore! There has to be something…” She looked over at her desk, a single book lay on its flat surface, the binding facing the room. Antony and Cleopatra. TT had suggested it to her, thinking that she’d enjoy this portrayal of Cleopatra. Her gaze trailed up the mirror the book sat it in front of. Her hair had grown a bit since last year, it was now close to shoulder length. “She wanted people like me to feel safe. To feel equal. To feel at home in my home.”  A glimmer of an idea began to form in her head. She stepped over to the book, opening it to the marked page. Daddy will probably kill me for doing this… She ripped out the ribbon attached to the binding that functioned as the bookmark. She stared at her reflection as she pulled her hair up, tying it off with the ribbon. Eliza stared on in confusion.

“What are you doing, Angie?” She questioned.

“Mama, you’ve said it, I’ve said it, she’s said it, this country is run by men. Things will only get done by men, until someone changes it. TT, wanted to be that person. She wanted to change this place for the better, but she never got a chance to find a way to do it. But I’ll do it for her, and for me, and for everyone like me.” She looked back at her mother, walking over and kneeling down to her level. “Do you understand, Mama?” She asked.

Eliza knew well, there was nothing that was going to change her daughter’s mind. She had already lost one daughter, she was scared to lose another. But, she also trusted the young woman’s strength. She had never met a more intelligent woman, other than Titania and her own sister. So, she gave a tight-lipped smile, and nodded her head.

“Yes…, I understand, my little angel.” They held each other’s hands and stood up together. Eyes now dry, they made their way downstairs to her father’s study.  She opened the door to find her father staring at his desk. She let go of her mother’s hand and got her father’s attention. She took a few minutes to explain her plan to him, but he seemed very uneasy.

“Daddy, she can’t die in vain! You’re a brilliant man but there is only so much that you can do…please…” It broke her heart to see her father look so disheveled. Nonetheless, he stood up and placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders.

“You are a brilliant young woman, you know that I will always support you…And I know that she would be very proud of you.” He kissed her forehead and smiled fondly. “Very well, we’ll start the preparations. I’ll send you off as soon as possible. But what’s our story?” He asked, she thought to herself for a moment.

“I’m your nephew, I just immigrated over here for a new life and education. And my name is Antony Hamilton.”

M͚̼e͍͎̤͚͚ͅn̤̪̗̝̤͡d͍͇ḭ̷̢̠̗̹͎͉̜̬́n̸͇̭̙̹͝g̨̫̮̱ͅ ̦͖A̷͟͏͓̦͓̣͉͈̻ͅn͓̰͓̝̮̞̤g̷̛̩̬͝i̵̪̘͚̣̰̪͢e̬̜

“I don’t know, I’m just surprised that you’d want to come to a museum when you live history every day.”

“Well, I like to show interest in what my girlfriend likes. So, you can shut your cute mouth!” Phoenix jabbed. Ever since you two ‘made it official’ he’s been trying to call you his girlfriend, like a nerd.

“You’re a dork.”

“Excuse me, I am not a whale penis.” You snorted at what he said.

“What the fuck, Phoenix?”

“I am, truly, an intellectual.” He turned his head to you, over-dramatically. You pushed some of the long, curly hair that had fallen over his buzzed side.

“C’mon, Mr. Intellectual, I’ve got a paper I need inspiration for.” You tightened your grip onto the hand you were holding and pulled him along behind you to the next room.  

The walls were lined with paintings of important figures during the 1800s. You had always focused more on the actual Revolutionary period so when your professor gave out your newest assignment, you had a feeling that you should branch out into other centuries. You weren’t sure why you had the feeling, you just did. What kind of class makes you write a theory on historical figure? This is what happens when you have fairly young professors, they end up being secret history nerds…kinda like me! You were excited about this project to say the least. There were cases under some paintings with belongings inside of them. Posts stood beside them that gave some explanation into who every person was. None of the paintings interested you, until you got to the last on in the hallway. You had almost walked past it, but it was what was in the case that caught your attention.

“Man, that’s one bitchin’ hat!” Phoenix pointed out the old hat in the case. But you recognized it. Is that really…? It was certainly more worn down than you remember, but it had the same ridiculously sized feather. You’ve never felt so bittersweet to see that stupid feather. That’s Philip’s hat…the one that Laf gave him as a birthday present… You looked over at the post to try and confirm your suspicion. You read it aloud.

“Antony Hamilton lived between 1784-1857. He immigrated over to New York at the age of 19 from Charleston, Nevis in the Leeward Islands, same as his more well-known uncle, Alexander Hamilton. After his uncle’s death in 1804, Antony became one of the prime caretakers of the family. At the age of 21, he married his beloved wife, RoseMary Bennett. Although he was never able to have children of his own, claimed to the infertility of his wife, he was one of the hopeful supporters of his Aunt Elizabeth’s orphanage. He adopted many of the children into his home, helping to raise them as if they were truly his own. He graduated from the same college as his uncle and cousins, then became one of the most outspoken politicians of his time. He was often criticized for his very modern beliefs but was admired for his energy and tenacity. He was one of the first politicians to truly take a stand on women’s rights, stood with his Aunt while fighting against slavery, and was even rumored to have been an advocator of LGBT+ Rights. Although it, to date, has not been confirmed, it has been rumored in a few documents of other politicians he had met throughout his life. He truly did forward our modern ideals but unfortunately due to his beliefs, is often not credited in our history books for his work.”

“This guy sounds pretty great, that’s fucked up that we don’t talk about him. I mean, I’m in a musical about his uncle and I’ve never heard of him!” Phoenix exclaimed. You looked back over at the description of the hat.

“Antony Hamilton was well-known for wearing this hat almost every day. Most of his peers found the look to be ridiculous, but Antony often quoted his reasons for wearing it. ‘It makes me feel like a leader, and reminds me of someone very important to me that wore this same hat, my older sister. She once told me that we have no control over who tells the story of our lives. It was not until later that I learned from my uncle that she had quoted former President Washington. Even still, I follow her words. I wish to bring forth the many teachings she bestowed upon me. I wish for nothing but a world with fewer errors. A world whose future is as bright as the midnight stars.’”

“That sounds like something you would say.” Phoenix chuckled. You lifted your head up, your mind blank, and finally looked up at the painting that hung on the blank walls. You saw a figure wearing that very hat, kneeling down on one knee, their peach colored coat  grazing the floor. They were kissing the hand of a woman wearing an emerald green dress, a faint smile on both of their faces. You felt a tear roll down your cheek. “Woah, are you okay, Y/N?” Phoenix asked in concern, squeezing your hand.

“I…I think I know who I’m going to write my paper about…” You sniffled.

Angie…I am so happy for you…I need to give Anna a hug when I get back…

[cjwritesfanfiction]

Hidden Voices (Track 3)

Summary: Summary: Thomas Jefferson, world renown, critically acclaimed rapper has lost his inspiration. In an attempt to start over and regain his lost inspiration, he made the bold decision to move to New York City. There, he meets a quick witted barista named Alex, who unknowingly becomes the source of Thomas’s knew found inspiration.

Tag list: @katzun @gum-and-chips and @glass-snake-writer ———————————————————————— Turns out working with Alexander Hamilton was harder than Thomas had thought. He thought that it would be easy. He and Alex would mesh perfectly, write a couple songs, and then make their soon to be relationship offical. But, Thomas and Alex had very different views on music. Thomas believed that music was supposed to tell a story. Alex believed that music was supposed to be an artistic and political source of expression.

As they worked together, Thomas found that this wasnt the only difference between him and Alexander Hamilton. Actually, he and Alex bickered about almost everything. The constant bickering had made both men tired and in dire need of coffee. After a quick game of rock, paper, sissors, it was decided Thomas would be the one to brave the harsh, cold winter weather to get food and coffee.

Thomas walked into Cafe 525 feeling cold and frustrated. Snot was dripping out of his ruby red nose and rapidly melting in the heat of the restaurant forcing Thomas to sniffle every three seconds. His ears were bright red and burning once the heat hit them. Thomas refused to wear a winter hat since he had seen a lot of New Yorkers brave the winter without it. However, the quick jaunt to the cafe made him rethink his decision. He quickly walked over to the electric fireplace in the cafe to warm his hands, which were gloveless. God, he missed California…

Philip came out with a small hot chocolate in his hand and a smirk on his face. He pressed the paper cup into Thomas’s hands and nearly laughed at the west coast native’s lack of proper winter attire.

“Here, we usually give these to the kids that come in, but you look like you need it more.” Philip chuckled. Thomas took it and instantly groaned at the way the cup burned his hand like he was holding fire.

“Thanks. That asshole, Hamilton, said it wasn’t that cold out.”

Philip burst out into laughter. Thomas looked at him like he was crazy. “Thomas, Alex has lived in the city since he was ten years old. He’s used to this weather. Hell, he won’t break out the winter attire until it’s 30 degrees. I’ll get you a hat and gloves from the back. You should probably get a more appropriate coat too. Usually, designer shit like that looks good, but it’s not warm at all.” Philip chuckled disappearing into the back of the shop. Thomas grumbled. Of course that asshole wanted to see him suffer.

Phillip came back moments later and gave Thomas a pair of gloves and a hat. Thomas instantly put on the gloves and stuffed the hat in his coat pocket. “Thanks, I think Alex just wants to watch me suffer.” he mumbled handing him the notepad with his and Alex’s coffee order on it. Philip took it and started to brew the coffee, so it was fresh for the two of them.

“Nah, Alex may seem closed in and rock hard on the outside. But, once you break through, he’s a softy.” Alex, a softy? That couldn’t be right!

“You’re joking, right?”

“No?” Philip replied, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the two of you. All you do is flirt woth him, and Alex isn’t used to that. The only way he knows how to deal with the attention is giving you shit. You want Alex to like you?” Thomas nodded. “Then get to know him first. Talk to him about music. That will get your foot in the door.”

Thomas had his doubts, but at this point, he was willing to try anything to break through to Alex… ————————————————————————- Well, this was awkward. Alex and Thomas had been sitting in silence at their respective laptops surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper, coffee stained sheet music, and multiple pens and pencils in red, black, blue, and a single green pen that Alex used to mark up what he didn’t like about Thomas’s lyrics. After 12 hours stuck together, the two of them were tired of writing ans of each other. Thomas tapped his pen on the table glancing over to Alex, wondering how he should start a conversation between them. James had left to get everyone food, so they only had a limited amount of time alone. Ten seconds rolled by, then thirty, then sixty before Thomas reached over and shut Alex’s laptop on him.

“Hey! I was working on that dick-”

“You and I both know we were just staring at empty word documents. C'mon, I’m starving and your stomach has been growling for the past hour. Let’s just take a break and walk down to the vending machine.” Thomas said standing up. Alex was about to retort when his stomach growled loudly. Both men looked down at Alex’s stomach for a few moments before Alex stood up.

“Alright, but youre paying.” Alex grumbled. It seemed Alex was just as cheep as Thomas was… The two walked in silence for a few moments before Thomas cleared his throat. Talk about music… Get his foot in the door…  Thomas could do this. He took a deep breath.

“So, when did you first get into hip-hop?” he asked. It was an innocent question. Thomas noticed how Alex’s face softened and his shoulders relaxed. This was good.

“Why do you want to know?” Alex asked.

“If we are working together, then I should know a little bit about you.” Thomas replied.

“It happened when I was 10. My parents had just adopted me and we took the subway back to my folk’s place. The subway car was full, and i had never seen people packed up like sardines before. Someone started to rap about how shitty the subway was and how people like me, like my parents, got the short end of the stick in life. It really did change my life. After that, I got a job helping a friend of my sell shaved ice and icecream and I spent it all on CD’s. You?”

Thomas smiled and looked down at him. “Its kinda stupid. On my 13th birthday, my cousin Garrett brought me to the studio where he worked. It just so happened that Notorious B.I.G. was recording Big Poppa that day. I would press my face to the glass just to watch them. After that, I wanted to make it big in the hip hop community and started to write my own shit. Now, I have his phone number and we talk all the time.” he laughed.

“Your music is kinda like his, at least, like Hypnotize and Big Poppa. You know, slow and relaxed.” Alex looked down at the ground and actually smiled a genuine smile. Thomas’s heart skipped a beat. He had his foot in the door. Now, all he had to do is step inside.

[ooobirdy]

Let go (A hurt/Comfort Hamilfam one-shot)

He was in shock.

Hamilton didn’t get fired. Hamilton got other people fired with his big mouth, but had never had it happen to himself.

The kicker? He not only got fired, he was unhirable from his less than satisfactory exit.

Don’t punch your boss square in the face, kids. It doesn’t bode well for anyone at all.

Words: 2,411 Tags: Hamilfam (including all the kids. all of them), swearing, inappropriate conversations, mentions of being fired, emotional distress at being fired, and comfort from multiple sources, John Adams is a dick, and Burr is here too Pairing: Eliza Schuyler/Alexander Hamilton (they’re married, it’s an established relationship) Alternate Universe: Modern era, the government branch officials and politicians work at a banking firm

The door shut with a resounding click. It was too quiet. All the kids were at school, and his Dearest Eliza was working. Heh, working.

Alexander ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily as he set down his briefcase on the table, shuffling from the room. It’d be hours before his family came home. It gave him time to think, to try to gather his bearings and understand what he had truly done.

He was in shock.

Hamilton didn’t get fired. Hamilton got other people fired with his big mouth, but had never had it happen to himself.

The kicker? He not only got fired, he was unhirable from his less than satisfactory exit.

Don’t punch your boss square in the face, kids. It doesn’t bode well for anyone at all.

His metaphorical pink slip weighed heavy on his mind. Maybe fast food was hiring… He needed a job to support his family. What he really needed was something that matched his banking finance, but that wasn’t coming his way anytime soon, his former employer would make damned sure of it.

Alexander flopped down at the breakfast bar, hiding his face in his hands as he shook with barely contained rage and grief at his stupid decision. It wasn’t just him he was hurting with that stupid move. It was his family. They could still live on a budget with his wife’s paycheck, but that just wouldn’t be fair to his family, especially said wife.

He had made a mistake, but was too stubborn, too prideful to admit it to anyone but himself.

The Caribbean man slid his face from his hands, sighing again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

How would Eliza even react to this news? He’d had it where they could live and still splurge if they wanted to… Would his wife even want to remain with him?

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Alexander froze, blood turning to ice, breath hitching. He stayed like that for the full minute his phone went off before finally fishing the object out of his pocket and checking who had been calling.

Aaron Burr?

Alexander called him back.

“Alexander?”

“Aaron Burr, sir?”

“I...I heard what happened. If it’s of any consolation, you have my condolences.”

Alexander scoffed, laughing mirthlessly.

“It’s just a job.”

“Which you’re probably beating yourself up about.”

“...”

“Your silence says all I need to know.”

Alexander sighed, running a hand down his face.

“You’ve only called to express pity, and as much as I appreciate it, I don’t rightly need it. I do, however, need to figure out what the hell i’m going to do to support my family..”

“Jobs aren’t that easy to find, Alexander.”

“Gee, Burr, it’s like I didn’t know that already.”

“Hey, I’m not here to be mocked, I’m just being honest.”

“Be honest elsewhere, sir.”

“Your pride is gonna be the death of us all.”

And with that, the line clicked to a close, static playing over the phone. Hamilton frowned.

“Ah, jeez…”

Setting his phone aside, Alexander paced the hallway of his empty foyer. What was he going to do? Should he apologize? Get on his knees and beg Adams, the bastard, for forgiveness? Should he shut up and let the man scorned become him? Should he immediately go a print a new resume and hope for the best? Jeez, what if he ended up a cashier again? He hadn’t been in retail work in almost ten years, he doubted he’d be able to do it flawlessly if it came to that.

That’s when it hit him.

Law school.

He had never finished being a lawyer!

Would they still take him?

Would Burr recommend him?

Hamilton thought quietly, stopping his pacing before running to his phone and dialing.

Surprisingly, Aaron picked up.

“If you’re calling to yell at me-”

“No, no, quite the contrary, sir!”

Aaron was taken aback by the suddenly chipper man. He had just gotten fired, what the hell had him so excited?

“Your mood flipped pretty easily.”

“Do you still have your lawyer buddies?”

“...Did you do something illegal?”

“No, no, I didn’t do anything like that….Yet.”

“Think of a plausible alibi if you’re gonna do something stupid.”

Alexander laughed.

“You’ve got a dry sense of humor, but it’s definitely still there after all these years.”

“Aging me up, aren’t you?”

“Face it, Burr, you’re old.”

“I’m only a year older than you.”

“I never said I wasn’t getting old. Which, for the record, I’m not.”

It was Aaron’s turn to laugh.

“Why’d you need my lawyer friends?”

Alexander smiled sheepishly on the other side of the phonecall.

“Well, you and I used to work together on cases, and I wasn’t too bad at it. I think it might help? I mean, sure, it isn’t a bank, but I can live with righting injustice and putting wrong doers in their place again.”

Aaron paused, absorbing the information.

“You know this means you can’t blow everything out of proportion, right? You have to redo your training and do as they tell you to do.”

Alexander blew a raspberry into the receiver.

“And not do childish stuff like this.”

“I’m fiiiiiiiiiine. Can they help me, or not?”

“You’re a grown ass man, Hamilton.”

“Are you saying that to my ‘fine,’ or to me asking if they can help, because either way, it works, and it’s disturbing how accurate that is.”

Aaron stifled a laugh on the other side of the phone conversation.

“You’re such a kid, remind me again how you kept the bank afloat in Washington’s wake?”

“Because I’m a fucking badass, and I knew what I was doing. Watch, it’s gonna close under Jefferson and Adams’ thumbs.”

Burr chuckled.

“Your confidence is astounding, Hamilton.”

“Hah, you say that like it hasn’t always been.”

“Just minutes prior, you were a shell of this exuberant facade.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, hmmphing.

Aaron paused.

“I’ll talk to them. I know that’s what you’ve wanted to hear, not to me rambling.”

“You weren’t rambling, Mr. Burr, sir. We were bantering.”

“Still, I apologize. I’ll talk to William, but you should get a hold of Pendleton if you want to see if he still needs a partner.”

“Oh-! I had forgotten all about poor Pendleton!”

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?”

“Yes.”

Aaron facepalmed.

“It’s a wonder you have any friends.”

Hamilton laughed.

“Hey, Aaron?”

Burr blinked.

How...Informal.

“Yes, Alexander?”

“Thank you. For everything. You’re always so succinct and persuasive. I’d botch it somehow, and I appreciate you picking up the phone even after I made it seem like I didn’t need your help. Well, i mean, i didn’t at the time, but still.”

Aaron chuckled.

“I knew you’d come back, either to yell at me, or ask for help, so I kept my phone nearby.”

“Wait- Aren’t you still at work?”

“Lunch break.”

“And you’re spending it talking to me? Geez, Aaron, go feed yourself.”

It was Aaron’s turn to scoff.

“You’re not allowed to lecture me about not eating when you probably haven’t eaten today at all.”

Alexander snickered.

“No need to get so peeved, sir.”

Aaron sighed.

“Just go call Nathaniel. I’ll get with Van Ness, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“ No problem, Alexander.”

Burr ended the call.

Hamilton felt a little bit more at ease now that he had a plan. All that was left was to tell his wife. But first, time to binge Hell’s Kitchen now that he had free time.

---

Alexander was about ten episodes into Hell’s kitchen when his kids and wife walked through the door, confused to see him there, dressed up in his sweats and with his hair in a messy bun, not in his normal business attire, eyeing his briefcase on the table near the front door wearily.

“You’re home early, pops,” Philip said, flopping down on the couch next to his father.

Alex paused the tv, smiling, albeit strained.

“Heya, Pip, how was school?”

“It went alright. I passed a test with really high marks.”

“ Nice!”

Hamilton’s second oldest child peeked her head around the corner before taking a running start and leaping onto both her father’s, and her brother’s lap, wedging herself into a comfortable position that left both men cringing in pain.

“ANGIE, WHAT THE SHIT!”

“Language,” Alexander laughed.

“She’s squishing my dick.”

“Your dick is too tiny for me to squish, it’s practically concaved.”

Philip shoved her off his lap and onto the floor, fuming.

Alexander Jr. blinked, raising a brow at the display before asking the obvious question looming in the air.

“Dad, how was work? You’re usually not home until a couple hours after us.”

Alexander Jr’s father sighed heavily, curling in on himself.

“Go get your mother and sister, I have an announcement.”

Alex left to go get both Eliza’s, John Church wandering into the room, sipping on a caprisun that were for the younger children, but not really giving a shit otherwise.

“Sup, pops.”

John raised a brow at where Philip and Angelica were bitching at each other, pushing each other in a makeshift wrestling match. Alexander was just watching his children with a far-off look on his face. John could tell something was wrong.

Both Elizas wandered into the room, the eldest one holding her daughter’s hand.

She eyed where her two eldest children were fighting with displeasure before letting her daughter’s hand go and going over, pulling Angelica from Philip, and vice versa.

“Can you two not stop fighting for even five minutes?”

“He’s insulted cause i said he has a little dick.”

Eliza blushed deeply, covering her mouth.

“Angelica!”

Angelica laughed and Philip blushed, looking off to the side angrily.

For once, Hamilton was glad the spotlight wasn’t on him. This was far more amusing.

But it could only last for so long when his little prodigy came back into the room, toting James along with him.

The only one missing was William, but he was probably down for a nap. He was too young to understand ‘fired’ anyway.

Hamilton cleared his throat.

Everyone paused and turned to face the man, and Alexander felt hot under the scrutinizing gazes.

“I’ve called you all here for a reason...”

“Mhmm, yup, we’ve all heard this one before,” Philip said offhandedly, flinching when his father turned and glared coldly at him, actually recoiling to the other side of the couch.

“You asshole,” Angelica said sternly.

Alexander took a breath, running a hand down his face, careful of his glasses.

“As I was saying...There’s no easy way to say this, but it has to be said. I got let go from my job.”

There was a lot of collective gasps, and a sputter of disbelief from Philip, who was spewing apologies for his comment earlier, having thought his father was just going to tell a terrible dad pun.

Little Eliza crawled up into her father’s lap, staring him in the eyes.

“What are you gonna do now, daddy?”

Alexander smiled sadly.

“Daddy’s gonna go and try lawyering again.”

His youngest daughter lit up.

“Lawyering? Daddy’s gonna be a law man?”

Alexander laughed, ruffling his daughter’s dark hair.

“A lawyer, sweetheart.”

“Ooooooh.”

He chuckled, lifting his daughter up and setting her more comfortably on his lap, playing with her hair. He looked up at the rest of his family carefully, trying to gauge their reactions.

“Any questions?”

His wife raised her hand and he couldn’t help but feel more in love. That was such an innocent, dorky thing to do. He loved his teacher wife.

“Yes, love?”

“Why were you let go?”

“I, uh- They didn’t need me at the firm anymore…”

The eldest Eliza looked upset.

“They just let you go out of the blue? That’s horrible!”

Alexander felt a sharp stinging in his chest and sighed, setting his daughter down before getting up and kissing his wife’s cheek, whispering in her ear.

“I’ll explain more tonight, love.”

Philip raised a brow.

“Please don’t use dad getting fired as foreplay.”

His mother balked.

“Philip James Hamilton!”

Alexander was bright red at this point, praying to anybody who would listen that his younger kids didn’t ask what foreplay was.

He considered himself lucky when they brushed to a new topic completely.

---

As they were getting ready for bed, Eliza and Alexander fluffed the pillows and made the duvet, talking aimlessly, just trying to get things about their day out in the open. Eliza’s students had painted flowers.

“They were so lovely, too. They’re very talented kids.”

“I bet,” Alexander replied, changing into his sleep clothes, tossing his others in the hamper and letting his hair down from its messy bun.

Eliza shimmied out of her dress and slipped on her nightgown, trying her hair up and stretching, walking over to the light and flipping it off before walking back to the bed and slipping in. She snuggled into the covers as she waited for her husband to do the same.

He didn’t.

She frowned and sat back up, raising a brow at him in the dark room as her eyes adjusted and she spotted him waiting on the end of the bed, lost in thought.

“Alexander?”

He jolted from his thoughts.

“S-Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About what, love?”

Alexander sighed, turning to face his wife in the dark room.

“I ran that firm under Washington for years..But then Adams takes over, calls me undeserving, and with the help of Jefferson, the fucker, dethrones me completely..”

Eliza frowned, crawling back out from under the covers and padding over to her husband, sitting beside him and running a hand soothingly over his back.

“Come to bed, sleep it off, love.”

“I punched him.”

Eliza paused.

“What?”

“He called me a creole bastard. So I socked the bastard in the fucking face.”

Eliza sighed, leaning over and kissing her husband.

“Defend your honor in a way that doesn’t hurt someone.”

“He had it coming!”

"You're strong and capable of picking yourself back up even after this, and that's what really matters. They lost a valuable person at the firm today."

Alexander took his wife’s hand.

“And I’d do it again if I could.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, but smiled and kissed Alexander’s forehead.

“Come back to bed, that would be enough.”

And for once, Alexander indulged her.

They’d work through this later, but for now it was time to sleep.

[louisdupont]

Come Here Often? (I Do, Actually) - Part II

Here’s more of that stage door AU. Tagging @hollywoodx4 because she’s my Eliza person. 

Part I is HERE. In this one, Alex & Eliza actually speak. Quickly beta’d on mobile so apologies in advance for any glaring errors!

Alex is running through Smooth Opening Lines in his head, because he has probably around three minutes to get his shit together, when John drops a fun bombshell. Fun, meaning, all of Alex’s shit melts instead and there’s no possible way to pull it back together–not in three minutes, not in three years. “Elizabeth Schuyler, in the flesh,” he says, and he’s eyeing her too (but uh, not like Alex is). “She was really good, who knew?” Alex goggles for way too long, and John snaps his fingers an inch from his friend’s face. “What is the matter with you? You look like the Harry Potter cat after she gets seen by the basilisk. Chamber of Secrets was underrated–” “Schuyler? Like Philip Schuyler? Senator? Democratic, known progressive, for immigration reform, pro-choice–” Alex rattles off these facts like they’re somehow relevant, but actually they’re just spinning him further out of control. He was a fan of Schuyler and his politics, but for all his research, he’d never discovered that the man had made a deal with God to get an actual angel for a kid. Who, incidentally, was stepping closer still, making her way down the line of waiting fans. “Dude, if you talk politics to her, I will pants you amongst all these women and children and leave you for dead. Seriously.” Alex rolls his shoulders–it’s meant to seem like a stretch, but this mom next to him is seriously impeding on his space to flirt, and Elizabeth Schuyler is two people away. To nobody’s surprise, she is actually more beautiful up close. He doesn’t remember what politics even are as she turns to John, who does, actually, have his playbill from the show. “Hi, how are you?” It’s a standard greeting, but he’s pretty sure it’s the most sincere one ever exchanged between humans in history. She’s smiling at John, and Alex should really stop looking at her mouth. “Thank you so much–I had no idea the stanky leg was on Broadway, but you made it happen and it was awesome,” John the Apparently Seasoned Theater Goer replies, and so she’s laughing when she finally looks at Alex. Her gaze leveled at him takes stunning, surprising effect–there’s a familiar roaring in his ears but the wave doesn’t drown him this time. He’s just washed in that same calm as before. “You were incandescent.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward in a practiced move–it’s only he that knows exactly how new this is for him. Funnily enough, she doesn’t look away and her own lips curl upward in an amused smile. She’s blushing though, and he is living for it. “The show was great, but you were my favorite part. I don’t mean any offense to your company, but they must know who they’re working with. It was a honor to witness in person.” It’s not actually just a line. She’s a brilliant performer, and he’s never had a problem simply being honest. She’s so brilliant, that somehow everything feels new again, and somewhere in the space of two hours watching this show–HER–had been that illuminating flick of the switch. He doesn’t have a playbill to sign and otherwise distract, but she’s still standing there in front of him, and he can tell she’s sizing him up. Alex is up for it though, and doesn’t relinquish her attention, nor does he back down, making his face as open as possible. People, including John, and Annoying Theater Mom #1 start to notice their complete inability to stop looking at each other, and the moment cracks. “Thank you,” she murmurs warmly, before moving on to the next awaiting fan, but he doesn’t miss how she glances back at him from under her lashes. Alex drums his fingers on the metal barricade once in a kind of victory dance before John is tugging him away, this time toward the train stop. “Uh, what the hell?” Alex snorts out a laugh–now that he’s out of Eliza’s immediate presence, that wave finally ebbs back, washing him back to reality. But, if his brain was a theater marquee in this moment, it would be pinging “It Wasn’t One-Sided, Fuckers!” in bright lights. “I was ‘showing my appreciation for her performance,’” is all he offers, quoting John’s own words as he shoves his hands in his pockets as his friend smacks him in the shoulder. John’s seen the Hamilton routine at work a thousand times–even, at one point been the recipient–but somehow, he’s never seen it like that. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Laurens.” Alex turns in 42 pages of different campaign stump speeches the next day, but not before he buys a ticket to see Eliza Schuyler again (he did that on the train ride home). *** He’s in the second row again, in the exact same seat, because even though he’s confident that just being in the same building as Eliza is enough, he wants to be able to see her (full disclosure: it’s like 78% see her, and the other 22% wants her to be able to see him). Last night hadn’t been in his head, which why he’d shelled out 200 bucks on a guarantee to see her again barely ten minutes after leaving her the first time. His boss had wanted him to parse through his various speech drafts, so Alex was here straight from the office downtown, pulling his tie off and stuffing it in his pocket. He flips through the playbill–that he’ll actually keep this time–before the lights go down, and this time, he’s ready. Alex is already focused on the spot where Eliza steps to make her first entrance, but the surprising-hilarious-amazing-intriguing thing (depending on which of Alex’s accelerated heartbeats you ask) is that she’s looking at him too. And he catches the small smile that’s aimed at him before it grows wide for the audience. It’s not long before his brain is drained of anything but her, and he relishes in the fact that since he’s literally always looking at her when he can, even when she’s not the focus of a scene, he catches every single glance she chances his way. As she comes out for her bows, he whistles sharply as he claps, and even though she doesn’t look over…she knows. An expert now (after one time), Alex finds a spot by the stage door quickly, this time with playbill in hand. Other people are wondering who all of the cast will emerge, and he’s pretty sure a few of the other cast members give him a second glance, but Eliza comes out and she’s next to him quicker this time. “Did you miss something last night?” she asks casually, smiling a little as she takes his program to sign. “I wanted to see if brilliance is consistent in the theater,” he leans against the metal frame separating them, closer still. “Turns out it is.” She doesn’t meet his gaze, but that’s probably best–he needs to work on not looking so much like he’s planning a wedding to this person he’s spoken to twice. They exchange murmured thank yous, more smiles, but then a little girl is claiming her attention and Eliza’s beaming down at her and laughing about the kid’s enthusiasm for the dancing fish in the show. Alex heads home, and actually sleeps for more than six hours–a rare miracle. The next day, he turns in another 4 four speeches, and his boss commends him for making these a little more coherent, with minimal coffee spills and ink stains on the latest printed drafts. Since campaign management is heading over to deliver his work to the aspiring congressman of the moment, Alex gets to go home early. But he doesn’t. He grabs a quick bite, and heads over to the theater. *** This time, Alex is actually engaged in conversation with the love interest guy in the show–lucky asshole–when Eliza steps out from the stage door. Now three days in a row, they’ve done this silent conversation of smiles and glances from onstage to audience, and outside, she spots him first. Alex, for his part, actually wants to know how some of the sets work, and he’s still talking to this guy, Adam–of course he just has to be really fucking nice too–when Eliza sidles up, smirking, the amusement plain on her face. “Ahh, wow. Thank you so much,” he adopts an affected fanboy-ish tone, smiling cheekily. “You were great.” That part is genuine–because she had been, for three nights in a row. It’s pretty fucking spectacular that she seems to appreciate (or tolerate?) what is basically him stalking her–he’d spent a fee hours last night arguing with himself about this. But then, she’s the one staring at him while working, so he figures he must be in pretty okay shape, and not as far into creepy territory. Eyeing him for a second as she shakes her head with a smile, she looks down at his playbill to pick a place to sign. “I appreciate the effort, you know,” she gestures at his suit and tie with her Sharpie. “You don’t always have to dress like you’re going to a job interview just for us.” Alex offers a sheepish smile he can’t actually help. Admittedly, he does look a little out of place–everyone else is a little more casual. But then, see, Alex’s interest isn’t really casual, which is also why he actually fumbles for a reply. “All the books say dress to impress.” That’s going on his Top Ten Worst Lines in History. On his next birthday, he will remember this and actually wish for a redo of this moment. “Well, nicely done,” she says quietly, almost like it slips out before she can catch it. “The navy suits you. I like it.” There’s a roaring in Alex’s brain that suddenly cuts off all neural connection to his mouth. “My favorite color’s yellow, but if you show up in a Big Bird suit, I will avoid you.” Her cheeks are pink, and his smile is so big, his face could break–actually, it might be already, he can’t feel much, not when there’s a new, cute smiley face next to the swirly “ES” on the playbill in his hands. *** His evening train is late the next night, which ruins things a little. An hour before, Alex is scrambling around his bedroom, trying to find his one yellow sweater that definitely does exist (he just has to find it), when John walks in. He’s not alone. “Oh my god, he lives,” Herc yells, feigning surprise, followed by a joyous Lafayette. His roommates are all bundles of endless wit. “Laurens made it sound like you were off on one of your work benders again.” Scoffing dramatically, Alex checks his laundry bag again. “I’m actually ahead. Still waiting on the edits from my last drafts.” “Yo, where have you been the last couple nights?” John flops on the bed, somehow avoiding the many books, pens, and Alex’s glasses (!) in an effortless pose. “You haven’t gotten in until 11, and I know you leave the office at 5 on the dot so you can ditch the ties. You’re not here working like usual, and you weren’t at your coffee place either. So what gives?” The sweater is clean–a bigger victory than one might think–and was partially hidden under his bed. Alex quickly pulls it over his head, shrugging as he straightens it. His hair is okay, the jeans are his best, shoes and socks are on. “I’ve been seeing shows. You said I should get out more. Was tired of being a mushy avocado.” He’s really fucking late, so Alex would prefer to leave it at that, as he grabs his wallet and keys. “Which shows?” Laurens sits up, skeptical. “Like musicals? Like Broadway? You?” “Man, I have to get 150 blocks south in the next hour,” Alex whines, but Herc and Laf are looking past him at John, who really knows him too well. It’d be less annoying and more cute in most other situations. “Oh my god, have you been going back to see Eliza Schuyler? No fucking way. Every night? Have you spoken to her every time? I swear, if her father has you arrested for stalking, I will stand outside your holding cell live on Periscope.” And that’s how Alex ends up in the third-to-last-row in the balcony that night, watching Eliza continue to deliver that same rush of calm power, even from a couple stories down, surrounded by all his curious roommates. *** Alex doesn’t ask them to follow him to the stage door, but they do. Of course. He’s the only one with a spot on the barricade though, and he pulls at his sweater anxiously while John catches the other two up on what happened that first night that started all this. Eliza’s very business-like when she comes out to the same excited cheer of the crowd, but he can hear her interacting with people just as genuinely as she’s done the past three nights, even though some assholes are a little too exuberant. When she gets to him, the surprise on her face is obvious, and her eyes soften when she notices his clothing. Alex offers her a boyish smile and a half shrug, stepping up closer but she beats him to the punch. “Come here often?” she says jokingly, and he doesn’t miss how this time her fingers brush his when she takes the book from his hands. “I do, actually.” There’s a strong argument to be made that Alex doesn’t even know what the word “pretense” means. “I’ve recently seen the light about musical theater and the work that goes into it,” he continues matter-of-factly. “Welcome to the enlightenment,” she says with the air of someone who’s had to defend her job more than once. He gets it–arts education is an issue that’s come up a few times at work, with funding is always going back and forth. “Which exactly is the part that’s had you come back four nights in a row?” Eliza’s not even signing his playbill–she’s holding it hostage, just like she’s holding his gaze. It’s fine, Alex is so fucking ready. “I mean, the emotional catharsis is a big part. Musical theater makes me laugh, makes me cry,” his eyes slant slyly as he continues listing things. “Musical theater’ has a great voice–pure like a bell, and it cuts me open and bleeds me in the best way. ‘Musical theater’ also has these really great, gorgeous dark eyes, and is somehow always gracious to strangers–even the weirder ones, which I really admire.” Alex’s friends always liked to say he was as subtle as a gun. And it’s not really a self-own, except that it is. “Mostly though, it’s how when I come here, I feel better.” That’s the honest to God truth, and it shows on his face as he confesses. “So. Does ‘musical theater’ have a particular place she likes to eat, and does she ever like company?” Eliza’s head tips back and Alex decidedly does not look at her throat as she laughs. Everything hangs in the balance now, he can’t afford to get distracted by smooth expanses of skin. Pushing his playbill back into his hands, Eliza glances behind him–no doubt at his friends–and then to the crowd around him. He learns another thing about her–she know the definition of decorum. Of course she does. “Sounds like there’s a few more things you need to find out.” “I’m sorry I wasn’t in my spot tonight,” he starts suddenly. “My roommates insisted on nosebleed seats because they say I have to pay rent. No pretty girl exceptions.” That earns him another, wider grin, and suddenly she’s covering his hand that’s gripping the barricade for dear life with her own. “I’ll talk to you soon, I’m sure. Was great to see you.” The last part she says a little coquettishly, back to playing the game of the “star” and the “fan.” With one last lingering glance and an almost knowing smile, she moves on to the woman next in line, who’s been staring at them, a little dumbfounded, during their exchange. The lady catches on soon enough–when Eliza Schuyler is speaking to you, you get your shit together quick–and while Alex is smiling, his mind is racing with possibilities and interpretations of their conversation. He’d been straightforward and she’d served him back a riddle–nothing he hadn’t seen before from anyone he’d tried with, but the difference was he actually cared about working this out, whatever it was. At some point, he’d fallen deeper in this than he’d originally intended–he just knew she was important. True to form, his friends don’t let him live in his head for too long before they’re making fun of him for his shameless swing and miss as they start back home… “Hold up,” Herc interrupts John’s latest incredulous comment–honestly, how many times is he going to emphasize “Schuyler” like that–and he grabs Alex’s wrist. “She really did that, oh my God–” Twisting his arm, Alex sees it instantly and he relaxes. There, next to her signature, Eliza’s written a phone number. Worst case scenario? He ends up calling Pizza Hut and takes the heavy hint with some cinnamon sticks. The best case scenario? While his friends continue to debate the amount of alcohol Eliza Schuyler probably consumed before giving up her number, Alex takes a seat on the A train next to them and shoots a quick text to the number. Could I buy you lunch? I can promise to look good, zero awkward silences? It’s barely two minutes before his phone vibrates with a reply, and he can’t help but shove his phone in the faces of his obnoxious friends. Greenwich is a haul from his job, but who fucking cares about that thing when this is actually happening.

100 W Houston, 11am? I’ll look forward to it. :)

[mintypothos]

I don't really have any prompts, but if you look up the Jamilton tag on @midnigtartist's blog, you might get a few ideas! Aimee is complete Jamilton trash, loves the heck outta them

I did just that! The prompt/feeling I got from that is “Jefferson actually likes kids and takes care of Philip for a day when Hamilton loses track of him, causing Hamilton’s entire view of Jefferson as a person to shift”

@midnigtartist Happy birthday! I was already writing this before I learned it was your birthday, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! You’re art is great! Also, I sent you an ask about this but severely underestimated the size of your inbox. If/when you see the anon that sounds suspiciously like this post, feel free to ignore it! 

As much as he’d like it to be the case,Thomas did not at first recognize the kid loitering around theoffice. He did however, recognize that the kid couldn’t be more than10 years old, if that- and was therefore too young to be standingaround anywhere, never mind outside the ‘Washington and Associates’law firm.

It wasn’t quite time to pack up, butThomas figured this was more important. Plus, no one else was dealingwith it, or even noticing. He saved his work, and stood up.

“Leaving early?” James poked hishead up, at Thomas’ movement.

“There’s a kid hanging aroundoutside, it’s distracting,” Thomas explained. James peeked out thewindow, furrowed his brows, and nodded.

“Don’t take too long,” Jamesreminded, turning back to his work. Thomas rolled his eyes andnodded, even though he knew James’ attention was already back to hiswork.

The kid jumped when Thomas opened thedoor, immediately turning around and looking down as if he justhappened to be standing there. It wasn’t very convincing.

“Hi,” Thomas pitched his voice,warmer and completely devoid of his usual sarcastic drawl. “You’vebeen standing out here for a while, is there anything I can help youwith?” Up close, the kid was even smaller. The parents had betterbe nearby, or Thomas would be having words.

“Uhh,” The kid’s head bobbed up,then straight down, his mass of curls hiding his face. Thomas felthis heart thaw, just a bit- the kid was just shy. Which was fair,given Thomas was a tall, mysterious stranger. Even adults tended tobe intimidated. Thomas leaned down, dropping to the kid’s level.

“That’s okay,” Thomas tried to putthe kid at ease. “Could you tell me where your parents are, so wecan find them?”

“Umm,” The kid started again, butthis time he brushed his hair behind an ear and glanced up to Thomas’chin. “Mom’s at her home, I’m s'posed to be with Dad this week, andhe’s s'posed to be here. I think.” He nervously glanced up at thebuilding. “There’s only one Washington law place, right?”

Ah, a divorced kid. “Yes, as far asI’m aware, this is the only Washington law place,” Thomas didn’twant to correct the kid and possibly confuse him. Still, he couldn’tstop an amused smile at the term 'law place’. “Can you tell me yourDad’s name?”

The kid froze, paling instantly. “U-uh,it’s my Dad, um…” He started shaking. Crap.

Thomas thought quickly. “It’s okay,it’s okay!” He smiled wide, waving his hand in what he hoped wasmore comforting than dismissive, though he used it in the lattersense far more often. “Could you tell me your name, instead?”

“Oh!”, the kid grinned. “Myname’s Philip Hamilton! I’m 8 years old!” Thomas nearly flinched.There was only one Hamilton who worked at Washington’s, and there wasno way this was a coincidence. He should have guessed- Hamilton’sdivorce was well known in lawyer circles, and now that he was lookingfor it, the kid’s face bore some resemblance. Standing in front ofThomas was his biggest work rival’s son.

There wasn’t anything for it, though.Thomas was hardly going to just leave the kid out here. “Nice tomeet you, Philip. I work with your Dad. My name’s Thomas Jefferson.”

Philip’s eyes lit up in recognition.Thomas had just enough time to worry about what exactly the kid wasrecognizing. “Jefferson? Dad mentions you all the time! He saysyou’re really distracting!”

Distracting, huh? Not 'evil’, not'idiotic’; nor any of the other insults Hamilton would shout to hisface? Not even 'bad man’, if he wanted to soften it to his kid?Thomas itched to ply Philip for answers, for what Hamilton reallythought; but it was the middle of winter and now was not the time.

“How about we wait inside for yourDad, and you tell me what you’re doing out here?” Thomas spokecautiously, not sure how Philip would react to being asked to gosomewhere with a relative stranger.

Strangely though, Philip’s shyness wentstraight out the window after his introduction. “Oh! That’s becauseDad promised me this time, for real promised, that he’d get off workon time and take me to see a movie! I wanted to make sure he reallywould, so I looked up 'Washington law’ on google and bussed here allby myself!” Thomas led the way to the building as Philip chattered,small hand immediately latching onto Thomas’ fingers.

“That’s very cool!” Thomasenthused, opening the door and immediately shooting a glare at everyperson who stared. “Now, your Dad’s out now, the boss sent him tothe courthouse to drop something off, but we can wait for him,alright?”

Philip beamed. “Alright! This placelooks even cooler than I thought!” He was so enthusiastic, thatThomas couldn’t help but smile back. Hamilton would still be gettingan earful, being so unreliable that his 8 year old child felt theneed to escape his babysitter and bus through the middle of town tocheck up on him. Hell, did he even have a babysitter?

Thomas’ work was left, forgotten on hisdesk. James would clean up for him, this was more important. “Whatdo you say to meeting your Dad’s boss?” He needed to at leastexplain the situation, after all.

“Mr. Washington? Yeah! Dad says he’stoo nosy, and Mom says he’s basically like my second grandpa, eventhough I’ve never met him before.”

Thomas couldn’t stop the chuckle if hetried. “Did he? You’ll have to tell me more, later.” He joked,but Philip nodded anyways. This was far better than finishing hiswork.

–

Alex was determined to keep hispromise, for real this time. He was not staying late, and ifpossible, he would even be home early. Washington owed it to him, forall that free overtime.

Unfortunately, all the owing in theworld meant nothing when Washington ordered him to take someimportant documents to the courthouse, a good half hour away, whenthe day was nearly over. Alex could never say no to a direct requestlike that, even if Washington probably would have relented if heexplained his circumstances.

No, he could do this and still be outon time, if he drove straight to Philip’s school, instead of back tothe firm, first. Alex did so, driving as fast as he reasonably could.

Only, when he did that, Philip hadalready left, instead of waiting for him. In fact, he had left forthe washroom in the last hour of class, and never returned, accordingto the teacher. Alex barely spared the time to chew them out for notkeeping a better headcount, and then he was running off to his carand to home.

Philip wasn’t at home either. Alexstarted panicking in earnest. He could be anywhere, but why would he?Philip was so excited about going to see the movie, he wouldn’t havejust run off today of all days, would he? But he alternative- ifPhilip hadn’t purposefully run off himself- was far worse. Alexstarted by doing circles of the neighbourhood, then the local parks.

Alex was focused; so focused that hisphone remained in his pocket, battery dead before he’d even realizedPhilip was missing.

It must have been hours later, the sunstarting to set, when Alex finally gave up. He had panicked somewhereearly down the line, and never quite stopped. His limbs were shaking.Alex had lost his son.

He didn’t want to even think about thephone call he would have to make to Eliza. But first, he’d check thehouse again, just in case. Alex wasn’t holding out much hope at thispoint.

Alex was just stressed enough to missthe strange car behind his in the driveway. He was not, however, toostressed to notice two people sitting in his living room.

“Hamilton, about time!” Jeffersonwaved his arms enthusiastically, though something sharp glinted inhis eyes. Alex’s brain stuttered for a moment at the sight of hiscoworker/rival relaxing in his home, but then Philip was boundinginto his arms.

“Dad! Where the heck where you? Mr.Jefferson’s called you like, a million times!”

“Wha- Philip, where have youbeen? You weren’t at school, the teachers told me you disappeared,you weren’t at home, I’ve been worried sick, looking for you!”Harsh, panicked words spilled from Alex’s mouth, even as he seizedhis son in a fierce hug. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,”Philip hugged back tight, voice suddenly subdued and guilty. “Ijust wanted to find you at work, so you’d actually go on time.”

Alex loosened his hug so that he couldface Philip directly. “Wait, you what-?” Alex cut himself off,remembering the other person in the room. “Jefferson, why thefu-heck are you here?” Philip’s head poked up at Alex’s accusatorytone, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Nice save,” Jefferson smirked,always as irritating as possible. “Also, is that really the way youwant to be speaking to the guy who’s been watching your kid allevening? When I could have been doing anything else with my time?”

There was no reason for Jefferson to belying. In fact, that answer made the most sense, given that Jeffersonhad literally been in his home, watching Philip, when Alex got inthere. Still though, this was Jefferson. Instinctive denial surged inhis chest. “Excuse me-”

“I’m sorry!” Philip shouted again,lip trembling. He wasn’t looking at Alex though, instead facingJefferson. “I didn’t mean to waste your day!”

Alex’s blood ran cold. That was exactlythe opening one could never make to Jefferson- he could never holdback his infuriating sarcastic comments. He was going open his mouthand spout some negative bullshit that would make Philip cry, becauseJefferson was an asshole who didn’t have any kids and probably hatedthem.

Jefferson did open his mouth, but hiseyes were suddenly wide, with surprise and maybe guilt- somethingAlex had never seen him wear. He scrambled off the couch. “No no, Ididn’t mean that, Philip! You’ve been great fun!” Jeffersonassured, stepping over to crouch in front of Philip.

Philip looked up at him cautiously.Alex held his breath, completely taken aback. “Really?”, Philipwhispered, and Alex could hear the tiny smile working its way intohis voice.

“Of course!” Jefferson reached ahand over to ruffle his hair. “I got to read all your poems, andyou got to hear all about the silly things your Dad does at work!It’s just that your Dad’s back now, so I should probable get going.”He gave Philip a wide grin, full of warmth and life.

Alex wasn’t sure he’d ever seenJefferson with a smile like that. It did something to his stomachthat he’d rather not analyze.

“No! You gotta stay for supper! Wecan’t do the movie anymore anyways, right Dad!” Philip bouncedback, both emotionally and literally, on the balls of his feet.

Alex opened his mouth, searching for anexcuse that wouldn’t upset Philip. Then, he glanced over toJefferson. He was fidgeting, glancing away awkwardly. With a start,Alex realized he must have actually had fun. Somehow, Jefferson wasactually really good with kids, if Philip’s excitement meantanything; and now he was standing there, in Alex’s house, lookingmore awkward and vulnerable than Alex had ever seen him.

“Yeah… yeah, he can stay. If hewants to.” Alex didn’t even want to guess what his face looked likeright now. He wasn’t even sure what his feelings looked like rightnow. It was all a mess of exposed wires, his entire worldview turnedon its head.

Jefferson flinched in surprise for amoment, eyes snapping to Alex. Then, he gauged Alex’s pure, undilutedconfusion, and a smile slowly took his face, one that more closelyresembled the teasing smirks Alex was used to. Now though, it seemedjust a little less aggressive than Alex remembered.

“I suppose I can stay and tell yourDad all about how you skipped your last class, looked up hisworkplace online, and then bussed there all by yourself withouttelling anybody.” Jefferson shrugged, nonchalant.

“What! Mr. Jefferson, no!” Philipwhined, even as he smiled broadly. “I’m gonna get grounded!”

Jefferson laughed. “Well, whose faultis that? You’re a little troublemaker!”

Philip spouted denials in betweengiggles. Alex felt his paradigm shift further off axis. “I guessI’ll get started,” Alex said, quiet and distant. He stood up andedged his way to the kitchen. Jefferson and Philip continued to chatin his hallway.

Somewhere between numb and completelyunsure of himself, Alex turned the oven on and got out a frozenpizza. He took as much time as he could retrieving the round pan andopening the pizza box. Replaying in his mind was the smile Jeffersonhad made at Philip. His stomach flipped again.

“Hey,” Jefferson’s voice was calmand subdued, but made Alex jump a foot anyways. “I put the TV onfor Philip.” He was right behind Alex, nearly crowding him into thecounter. “I assume you want to know what’s been going on? No one’sbeen on the same page today.”

Alex swallowed. It wasn’t the firsttime Jefferson had crowded him, Alex had realized over time that itwas more a matter of not knowing about personal space, rather than anactive bid at intimidation. It was also overwhelming, especially now.“Uh,” Alex started, horrified at the squeak his voice made. “Iguess not.”

Jefferson smirked- how could he not?-but relented, backing up a step. “It really wasn’t all that crazy.The kid showed up in the last hour of work, and no one else would doit, so I watched him. Tried to call your phone, I’m assuming it’sdead.” Alex dug into his pocket, pulling out a very dead phone. Hepaled. “No, it’s fine, it’s done.” Jefferson waved his handdismissively. “I didn’t- I mean, it wasn’t awful.”

Alex paused at Jefferson’s stutter. Hisears were pink. Adorable, Alex thought, then shook it from his mind.“Thank you,” he said instead.

“Uhhh,” Jefferson’s ears turnedpinker. “No offense, but that sounds so weird coming from you.”Suddenly, he started laughing. “And I just said 'no offense’, whichis even weirder!”

Alex snorted. Giggles stumbled theirway between his lips, turning into chuckles, then full blownlaughter. “Oh my God,” Alex wheezed, “This is so weird!”

Jefferson was howling right beside him.“I know, right?!”

Their laughs petered off, save for aquiet snicker from the distance. Both their heads whipped around-Philip peeked from the doorway. “Dad hasn’t laughed like that inages,” He said knowingly. “You guys should hang out more. Hey,can Mr. Jefferson come with us to the movie, next time?”

Alex flushed, his mind stumbling to astop, not sure if it was from the sheer audacity of the question, orhow the idea of going out with Jefferson sounded too much like adate. His only saving grace was that it was probably the last thingJefferson wanted, anyways. It didn’t matter that the sight of himbeing so nice to Philip did things to Alex’s heart.

“That sounds nice. If your Dadagrees.” Jefferson gave Philip an indulgent smile, then turned toAlex, question standing.  A quiet blush graced his cheekbones aswell. He looked so much more attractive- cute, Alex’s brain supplied-when it was open like this. Usually, Jefferson’s appearance was theonly attractive thing about him. Alex realized suddenly that he wasgone- had been gone the moment Jefferson had revealed a side ofhimself that wasn’t pure opposition to everything Alex stood for.

“Alright,” Alex agreed. He neededto see where this was going. He was going to figure Jefferson out, ordie trying.

[truthofherdreams]

blossom beautifully, dangerously, loudly

so.... that's me dipping my toes into Hamilton fics? I'm so not used to writing m/m tbh and I started this after watching Moonlight, which...

just a queer girl dealing with her shit family through fictional characters, the usual (+ao3)

8.

He knows he’s different.

Not just because of the freckles on his face like little paint stains he can never wipe off, no matter how much he scrubs. Not just because of his curly hair and brown skin, in a sea of white children. Not just the books he can never put down, reading until his eyes go blurry. Not just the fights and the bruises and the scratches, that have his teachers say he has anger issues.

But because his heart starts racing when little Arthur sits next to him during reading time. Blond hair falling in front of blue eyes and a missing tooth, the cutest boy John has ever seen. Girls are icky, too busy playing with dolls for John to care about them. His father laughs and says it will change soon. His mother smiles kindly.

But girls are icky, and little Arthur is not.

John knows better than to tell his parents, has heard the words his father say when he reads the news, when yet another State passes a law about marriage. John is only eight, missing teeth and small stutter and a passion for planes, but old enough to know there are some things he better keep for himself.

Some things he can never say out loud.

...

16.

His knuckles hurt, bruised and bloody from yet another punch; knuckles meet jaw in a crunching noise. The guy facing him spits on the floor, more blood than saliva, before pointing a finger at him. The slur is on his tongue before John has time to get ready, and then a threat. Not that it surprises John -- bigots and bullies hardly surprise him these days, too predictable in the way they act around him.

An insult, tripping him in the hallway, pushing him against the lockers.

His ribs still hurt a little from last week, but his skin is tougher now, and so is his mind. He got quite good at hiding the bruises and finding explanations about all the fights. He’s just that kind of a boy, his father says proudly, gotta teach ‘em a lesson. His father has no idea, and John lets him believe it’s just the anger talking, just some alpha male bullshit.

Better than the truth, right?

A teacher separates them before another punch can be thrown, sending John to his calculus class with a detention and a lecture. Nobody ever questions it; nobody ever cares enough to notice that one kid getting bullied by all the other boys, if only because he fights back. Maybe he should wear glasses and act like the nerd he is, maybe then they would notice something is wrong. But then the school would call his parents with a whole different kind of talk, and John can’t have that. Only a year and a half left before college. He can last this long, and then he’ll move on campus and away from prying eyes.

He can do that.

…

Martha comes to him one day during lunch break.

She stands out as much as he does, with her dark skin and frizzy hair. Like she isn’t supposed to belong there, in this white town with all those white kids and their white thoughts. She smiles at him and sits by his side, drinking from her juice box before her eyes find his again.

“Do you want to go out this weekend?”

John almost chokes on his fries, swallowing with difficulty before he washes it down with a gulp of water. He stares at her, eyes wides, for long seconds, before he’s able to croak a “Excuse me?”

She shrugs. “Maybe it would stop them. If you were dating.”

“If I was dating a girl,” he finishes for her.

Martha shrugs again, unapologetic in her proposal. John doesn’t know what to think of it -- of course, it would solve a few of his problems, but his life is enough of a mess, enough of a lie as it is. He doesn’t want to pretend he cares about some girl just so his hemoglobin won’t find its way to the pavement.

Or perhaps it would only make things worse, and people will see right through the bullshit and call her a beard, and attack her on top of punching John. He can take it; he can’t ask a girl to fight his battles for him. This is just madness.

So he shakes his head. “No, thanks.”

She pouts at him, sadly. “I’m just tired of feeling useless,” she admits. “I don’t know what to do.”

Which is… nice, he guesses? Nobody has ever been nice to him about it, avoiding him like the plague, like they will catch whatever he has if they stand too close. He wants to cough his gayness in their faces and see how they react. Which probably doesn’t help with his anger management issues, but then again. Not his fault people are morons.

“Thank you though,” he tells Martha, as sincere as he can. “I appreciate it.”

She smiles at him, and squeezes his hand, before sipping from her juice box again.

…

His father is sitting in the leather armchair when John comes home, only one lamp switched on, and it’s so dramatic that John wants to laugh and ask who’s dead. But his father also has this look on his face, the one that tells John there is nothing to laugh about and that something is definitely off.

“‘Sup, Pop?”

His father folds his arms on his chest, and John suddenly feels self-conscious enough to start fidgeting. His hands turn into fists in the pockets of his jeans, and he forces himself to stand still, chin high. Don’t show them your weaknesses, don’t show the fear in your eyes.

“Your English teacher called,” his father says, cold. “Good kid, good grades, so sad that he keeps getting bullied for who he is…”

John swears under his breath, and screams internally.

Nice new teacher -- fresh out of college, pretty and young and way too invested in her students’ well-being for her own good. John can’t really blame her for doing her job, but he just wishes she had turned a blind eye on him like everybody else at school. He’s fine with everyone pretending not to see the problem, because there is no problem to begin with.

“And I told her, no you got it wrong, because there’s no way my son is a damn fagot.”

John tenses at the slur spat in his face, his shoulders jolting a little. Just a little, but still enough for his father to notice. Still enough for his father to get the answer he needs even with the verbal affirmation. Denying it would be useless, at this point, and John’s entire body and mind scream one word at him.

Run.

Because his father has that look in his eyes, like when his football team just lose and he’s one beer too far into madness. Like earlier this year when Obama won and he started cursing the entire universe for letting a black man into the White House.

(Sometimes, John wonders if his father remembers he married a Latina woman.)

(Often, he wonders how his mother could pick such a monster of a husband.)

His father stands up, slow, threatening, and John’s instincts kick in before his brain has time to react. He’s already at the door when his father start yelling, already around the corner when his father follows him outside.

He runs until his lungs burn, until his eyes are blurry, until he has to stop because he’s choking on his own sobs and can’t catch his breath. Everything hurts -- his muscles, his heart, his lungs, his fucking mind. Everything hurts, and hurts, and hurts.

He takes his phone out, and calls Martha.

Her parents let him crash on their couch, just for one night.

...

23.

“Mom, we’re out of milk.” He closes the fridge with his shoulder, and sighs. “Again.”

He gets out of the kitchen, only to find his mother snoring on their too small couch. She’s still wearing her work uniform, red name tag pinned on her white shirt, hair coming out of her ponytail and purple bags under her eyes. John smiles softly as he grabs a blanket and throws it over her sleeping body. She doesn’t move, not even when he drops a kiss on her forehead, too exhausted to react.

It takes John five minutes to go downstairs to the bodega around the corner, buy a bottle of milk, and come back up. Abuela Sanchez stops him in the hallway, but he’s too tired for him to understand anything she is saying right now. Which -- it’s hard, sometimes. He learnt French in school, and now he finds himself in the barrio, not knowing a word of Spanish and not knowing how to blend it.

His mother is still asleep when he comes back, will be until her phone wakes her up for her night shift. John moves to his bedroom, changes out of his work clothes and into something a little bit more comfortable, before he checks his wallet. Only two crumpled tens and a bunch of coins, just enough to make it through the night but not much else. Perhaps he can even convince Herc to buy the first round, if he plays his cards right.

Herc who’s already at the bar when John shows up, Laf following a few minutes later. The Frenchman is in a good mood, and it takes very little probing before John finds himself with one beer in front of him, then a second one. They laugh easily, sharing stories and jokes and talking with other people around them. The good kind of night, a buzz in John’s head from the drinking and the smiling.

And then--

“Since when does Burr have friends?”

Smirking at Laf’s jab, John turns his head to the front door just in time to see Aaron Burr entering the room. His usual fake smile hiding discontent is plastered on his lips, and the most handsome guy John has ever seen is following him like a lot puppy. John’s breath catches in his throat, released in a small gasp when Herc elbows him.

“Seen anything you like?”

John rolls his eyes.

…

Philip Schuyler throws a gala to raise funds for Washington’s campaign in the middle of December, and the whole gang is invited.

Herc holds John’s hair back as he pukes his tears and vodka and sobs into the bowl of a too white, too expensive toilet. He wills the thoughts away but they come back to haunt him, again and again. The vodka was to forget, and he choked on it until he was choking on his own tears, until he had no choice but to run to the closest bathroom and to empty his stomach. Herc’s hand is warm on his back, but it doesn’t change anything.

His mind can only think of Eliza and Alex and Alex and Alex and Alex.

...

24.

The punch lands before John even has time to think over his own actions. Crushing noise of knuckles against nose. Electricity jolting up his arm as he shakes his hand. Charles Lee on the floor, hands to his bleeding face.

John is about to land a second one when Herc pulls him away. His hand still hurts, and with it his head -- he hasn't fought in years, the adrenaline of it all rushing back to his brain and leaving him almost giddy. He's missed it. The fight, the blood, the power.

“You happy now?” Lafayette asks him with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Yes.”

Alex’s lips twitch a little, like he's fighting back a laugh, and John’s heart grows three times bigger. It beats faster, too, until it misses a beat because…

“What is the meaning of this?”

Washington’s body towers over Charles Lee, still down and whimpering like a baby, and John forgets about giddiness and muffled laughs and his throbbing hand.

Still worth it.

…

His legs dangle in the emptiness beneath him, leaning against the staircase’s railing with one beer in his hand. Alex sits next to him, mirrors his position, and sips from his own bottle every now and then. Even from the sixth floor, they can hear the music coming from the hairdresser downstairs, barrio living to the rhythm of salsa and r’n’b and whatever else is playing on the radio. It feels peaceful, the music and the sunset and Alex solid by his side.

“Eliza and I broke up,” Alex says at some point.

John forces himself not to turn around, not to stare. He takes a sip of lukewarm beer, and asks, “How so?”

“She said that my love was like a volcano, that it was brewing inside me until it erupted and consumed everything around it, and burnt our relationship to the ground.”

John raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Eliza didn't say that.”

Alex glances his way, looks in front of him, then glances again. “She said I was full of shit,” he admits, and John snorts. Loudly. “But the burning part was implied.”

“Sure it was.” John grins, lips against the neck of his beer bottle. Alex’s elbow finds its way to his ribs, which only makes him laugh.

He grins to himself, his happiness turning into something else. For months now he had been ignoring the green-eyed monster in the corner of his mind, because it was not fair to either Alex nor Eliza. Alex, because he deserves happiness. Eliza, because John couldn't hate her no matter how hard he tried. She was too kind, too good for him to hate her. Which was the worse part. It would have made his life easier if she was a bitch, if his feelings were validated.

He feels lighter now. Which is probably why he asks, “So you’re single now?”

For confirmation.

Just to be sure.

Nothing else.

Alex doesn’t reply immediately, which is already unusual as it is. And then John finds himself counting the seconds, silence stretching between them almost uncomfortably. Alex isn’t the silent time, filling the room with his words and his presence. Something John admires a lot, him who can never put his thoughts into words, him who is more actions than speeches. He can always rely on Alex to make the conversation, to talk at him instead of with him.

And then Alex turns his head to look at him, a smile ghosting on his lips. “No,” he replies, so candidly it makes John frown at first.

“Wha--”

But he doesn’t get to finish his question, because Alex’s lips are on his, the kiss tentative until it isn’t, until it turns bruising and feverish, until John’s shoulder is pressed at a weird angle against the banister and his thoughts are Alex and Alex and Alex.

“No, I guess not,” he says between kisses, breathless.

Alex only chuckles, and kisses him, and kisses him.

[whatdimissmotherfuckers]

Maybe that’s the problem

THIS IS A SERIES. PART 2 Part 3

Word count: 2939

Summary: You go to one of philip hamiltons famous parties, and next thing you know, you wake up in his house. shit happens.

Au: Highschool Au

Pairing: Philip x Reader

Warning:  Uh. French, mentions of sex??? but really just. the word, underage drinking/smoking (dont do drugs kids) i think thats it. Note:good god guys, I really loved writing this. Also, I always think of so much to say in the notes when i’m actually writing, but now i forgot all of it. No proofreading, we die like men. I love Georges, anyone wanna see a georges fic?  AND Want this to be a multipart fic???? And yeah. I listened to Initiation from The Weeknd, so i recommend you do to. Even if it doesn’t have much to do with the story YET.  And georges is sleeping with philip, im sure. (you will understand later) Enjoy. Thats it. Also thanks to @fanfrickinhamiltasticimagines for helping me with the name so philips generation. Check her out guys. She hella cool. Done. Oh. @lookaroundlookaroundhowlucky wanted to be tagged. okay im out.

"You've never been to a Hamilton-Party?!"

You couldn't help but giggle at your friend Abigail, her eyes were widened in shock. "I've already told you a thousand times I've never been to any parties, Nabby", you reminded her, before taking a seat next to the girl. Abigail lifted her shoulders, giving you a shrug. "Yeah, but the ones at Hamiltons’ are different. I didn't know you meant those too", she alleged, plunking down into the chair. Raising an eyebrow in amusement, you explained yourself. "I told you my parents are trying to prevent me from underage drinking at all costs. How was I supposed to find a way to go there anyways?" Your words made your friend twist her mouth. "Hmm", she hummed, hesitating. She seemed to be contemplating something, which made you curious in an instant. "What are you thinking about?", you asked her, shifting around in your seat. "Oh nothing", Abigail informed you, as a wide smile began spreading across her face, "I was just wondering what I should borrow you for tonight! We're gonna pay the Hamilton Estate a visit!" Reluctant, you crossed your arms. "I don't know. I mean, I'm not even invited. And if my parents would find out...", you didn't even bother to finish your sentence. Your parents were horribly strict and it already took you almost a week to persuade them to let you stay overnight at Abigail's home. "Come on, don't be such a party pooper! I'll be with you, and it'll be fun. Trust me!", she reassured you, grabbing your shoulder. "Nobody will find out! And you don't need an invitation! Everybody can go. Okay? Are you with me?" A deep sigh escaped your throat, before you slowly nodded. "I'm not gonna regret this, am I?", you joked, but all you received was a shrug, before Abigail left the room.

"I'm really, really sure, this is a bad idea", you decided, as you stood in the basement of the Hamilton Estate, which was designated as a party room. It was already packed with people, and you could barely see anything, because it was dark for the most parts. Diffused blue lights were place here and there, making you instantly uncomfortable with the shady surroundings. You could hear the distant voice of The Weeknd singing "Initiation", but you were pretty sure the music was supposed to be more loud and cheerful during normal parties. Abigail nudged you with her elbow, giggling in amusement. "Ohhh, are you scared?", she mocked teasingly, grabbing your arm. "Don't be, let's go over to Theo." Before you could complain, she was already dragging you across the room, making you almost trip. This was one of the rare moments of you wearing high heels, but Abigail insisted that they would fit perfectly into the occasion. Now that you could be the judge of that, you completely disagreed. Nobody would noticed them, it was far too dark to see anything. But at least they matched your purse, right? Beauty knows no pain. As you came nearer towards Theodosia, she was already waving you, a warm smile on her lips. She was one of your closer friends, which you were very thankful for, because she was an absolute cinnamon-roll and always cared for you. But seeing her here made you begin to wonder. You never deemed her for being someone who goes to parties. "Good to see you girls", she greeted the two of you, drawing you into a tight embrace, making you inhale the scent of her cologne mixed with the unpleasant smell of cigarettes. "Why are you here?", you inquired shamelessly, after she had let go of you. "Joseph dragged me here", Theo avowed, and made a gesture with her hand, pointing to a boy who was currently pouring a drink. Joseph was her boyfriend, and they were in a happy relationship for almost three years now.  You gave a small nod, before you turned to the boy next to her, who wasn't engaging into the conversation at all.

He was taller than all of the girls, and as far as you could judge, he had a dark skin-colour, and short,dark locks, fitting his handsome face nicely. Constantly biting his lips, he didn't even seem to notice that you were staring at him, till you cleared your throat, which resulted in instantly having his darting eyes on him. "I haven't seen you around the school, who are you?", you asked him, trying not to drown out Abigails voice, because you didn't want to interrupt her dialogue with Theo.  Giving you sheepish look, he put forth some words in a foreign language you couldn't understand. "Sorry, I couldn't understand you. Could you repeat yourself?” He nodded, carefully repeating what he said. It turned out he was only introducing himself and had a french accent. "Mon name is Georges Washington Louis Gilbert de La Fayette, nice to meet you." Your face was flushed with shame as you realized the foreign language was his name, and hastily gave him your name. "Yeah, I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N), nice to meet you too", you stammered, wanting to shake his hand, as he slowly lowered himself to your height to kiss your cheeks. Struggling to speak, you just fidgeted with your hands, making him understand that you weren't used to the french etiquette. "Oh, je suis désolé! I forgot that you Americans don't greet", he said, scratching the back of his head. "It's okay", you assured him, after your cheeks had taken on a normal colour again. "You're french?" His eyes sparkled at your words, making both him and you smile. "Yes! I'm an exchanged student and I sleep with him!" Georges pointed at a boy on the other side of the room, who immediately caught your eyes. You wanted to correct Georges funny English, but instead your gaze was fixed on the person he had pointed to. You were amazed by his handsome freckled face, and the wild, long curls, framing his face in a perfect way. Sitting relaxed on of the couches, he was surrounded by a group of people, mostly consisting of girls,and held some sort of glass in his hand. For a moment, his sharp eyes met yours and you felt your heart racing almost immediately.

Feeling someone tapping your shoulder, you swiftly shook your head, before turning towards the person interrupting you in your thoughts. "Hey. Are you eyeing the Hamilton-boy?", Theo queried, narrowing her eyes. You took another look at the boy, who seemed to be Philip, the host of the party and nodded eagerly. Theodosia seemed to be unamused by your interest and raised her eyebrows, warning you with a wagging finger. "If I were you, I would stay away from him. He's a total player and will steal your virginity, independence and dignity in one night", she cautioned, and Abigail shoved a red cup into your hand, encouraging you to drink from it. "Come on, forget about Philip,let's get drunk (Y/N)!" Without hesitation, you downed the drink. As you felt the bitter liquid running down your throat, you had to resist the urge to throw up on the spot. "Damn. I can't imagine why anyone would want to do this by their own choice", you remarked, making your friends laugh.

You were waken up by the pulsing pain in your head, and  groaned quietly, rolling around in the large bed. Blinking confusedly, you tried to open your eyes, but regretted it immediately,since the brightness of the day only hurt you. You had no idea of what happened yesterday, but your heavy head clearly spoke volumes for that. Hoping that nobody took pictures of that night, you stretched yourself a bit, yawning. At least you woke up in your own bed. How you got home was a miracle though. Probably Abigail carried you home. You smirked at the imagination and buried your face further into your pillow, inhaling the pleasant smell of fabric softener. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. This didn't smell like your bed sheets, it had a distant smell of men's cologne. And since when was your bed so huge that you could roll around in it?

Realizing this could not be your bed, you jolted up, widening your eyes in shock. Dizziness added to the pain in your head from the sudden action, but you didn't care. And as you noticed, who was laying next to you, in nothing more than boxershorts, you swallowed. Dark, curly hair. A lot of it. Hidden under it was a peaceful, freckled face, sleeping soundly.  Looking down, you saw yourself in nothing more than your black underwear. "Fuck", you breathed, rubbing your forehead. Did you really have sex with the only person you were warned of? More importantly, did you have your first time with someone and forgot all about it? Before you could think of more embarrassments, you hastily got out of bed, searching for your clothes.

You took a closer look around the room. Mostly consisting of very light colors and minimalistic furniture, you thought that it looked very luxurious. But than again, should you expect less from the son of a politician? Not that you knew much about Philip, this was the only piece of information you had. Despite pacing around a few times, you couldn't spot your black dress in the room. Another groan of frustration escaped your mouth. How were you supposed to go home in this attire? But, as you glimpsed at the bed, you decided waking Philip up seemed like a bad idea too. Shouldn't one-night-stands be gone in the morning? Did he offer you to stay? You wished you knew, but no. Your hungover brain had to forget the most essential things about last night. The only thing you could remember was talking to Abigail, Theodosia and Georges...Georges! The french boy mentioned, that he was staying at Philips home. Maybe you could ask him for some clothes. He would surely understand the situation you were in.

You hastily made your way to the door, trying to open it as quietly as you could, but instead it squeaked like an old garden gate, making you cringe.

"Where are you planning on going?" Philips voice was half husky, half sleepy and let a shiver run down your spine as you heard him. Feeling caught, you slowly turned around on the spot. Trying to play cool, you leaned against the doorframe. What would a one-night-stand say right now? Did you enjoy yourself last night? Hastily, you ran your thoughts through all the scenarios you knew from any movies you had watched, but as soon as you saw his face grinning smugly, you lost your composure. Instantly, you felt your cheeks redden and your heart pounding in your chest. "H-Hi. I'm se-searching m-my clothes", you stuttered, facepalming yourself internally. Philip started laughing at you, slowly raising himself from the bed. You couldn't resist the chance and gave him a once-over, as he slowly walked towards you.

"You don't know a thing about yesterday, do you?", he asked in an amused tone. Relaxed, he took a strand of your hair into his hand, toying with it. You admitted he was right, and with a deep chuckle, he desisted from making you more nervous. As he put some clothes on, you were reluctant, but asked anyways. "Do... you know more than I do?" Confident in his position, Philip lifted his head. "Of course I do. Girl, do you really think we had sex? Because if we did, you would've remembered it."  He winked at you, which made you raise your eyebrows. "Care to enlighten me? Can you tell me why I am here, almost naked?", you queried. A grin spread across his face. "I can, but I'm not sure if you really want to hear it", he warned you, buttoning up his shirt. With a gesture of your hand, you demanded him to continue. Philip exhaled deeply, before he spoke, as if he had to recall what exactly happened. "So, after a while, we were running low on alcohol and I wanted to get some more in my house. You followed my, pressed me, and tried to undress me multiple times. Despite the fact that I declined, you would stop bothering me. So, suddenly, you ripped your dress off, throwing yourself on me. I couldn't let you into the crowd half naked, so I decided to make you sleep here", he explained bluntly. Feeling the blood pumping into your head, you quickly covered your face with your shaking hands. This was a lot more embarrassing than what you thought happened. But at least, this also meant that you still had your virginity. What did Abigail say again? He'll steal your virginity, independence and dignity in one night. Well, at least you still had two out of three things. "Sorry for forcing myself on you..and stuff. And thanks, for not taking advantage, I guess", you said, deeply ashamed. Philip gave a little shrug and handed you some clothing. "Here. I threw your dress away, to be honest, but you can keep this." Philip opened the door, but before he left, he turned to you again, adding:" Do you want to eat something or leave right away? Maybe get some painkillers for the headache?" After you were fully clothed, you decided, to eat together with him, eager to find out more about Philip. It couldn't get any worse, you thought.

After a few minutes, both of you were sitting on a large table in the living room, which was fully packed with all sorts of food. Widening your eyes, you got way too excited at the sight and didn't listen to what Philip said, as something brushed slightly against your shoulder. You turned your head to see Georges exiting the room, waving you goodbye. He said something, but you couldn't understand him, because his mouth was occupied with a croissant.

"He's late for church", Philip explained, taking a sip out of his glass. You nodded slowly, not knowing what to say, and silently, both of you began to eat. There were no sounds, except for the maid humming in the kitchen and the clattering of silverware. You glimpsed over to him, to see if he had any interest in a conversation, but he was busy with typing something into his phone, so you decided to shut your mouth. The occasional glances were getting longer and longer, till you didn't even bother to look away anymore. "So, I heard you were a player. Why did you decline my...offer yesterday?", you finally broke the silence, and regretting it in an instant, as you saw the amused expression on his face. "Well", he drawled,"Maybe it was the fact that you kept saying you wanted to have your first time with me. And I don't do completely wasted virgins." Once again, you could feel your cheeks burning, and you lowered your head. "God.. do you think it's possible to block out memories...entirely?", you asked him, half joking, half serious.  "First of all, you can just call me Philip", he replied, making you sigh in annoyance. "Second... If you drink hard enough. Why do you think I host all these parties?" With a deep chuckle, he put away his phone and took a closer look at you.  What he said, made you contemplate.

"Why do you, actually?", you inquired, leaning a bit forward. Philip sighed, rolling his shoulders. "I mean, I'm not a expert.. But it just seems wasting your time. You can do so much better", you asserted, tapping your fingers against the table.  Philip let out an exasperated sigh and crossed his arms. "It's fun", he insisted offhanded, and you decided not to dig into it further, which led to another moment of awkward silence. His focused eyes were laying on you and he seemed to watch every move of you, making it impossible for you to eat anything.  "The Adams-girl has your purse", the freckled boy informed you without any context and made you even more uncomfortable. Fidgeting around in your seat, you decided it was time to go home. "I'll bring you to the door. Do you need money?", he asked, surprisingly polite and you declined. "Nabby only lives a few streets away." "That's her name.. Yes, I visited her house a few times because of my dad", he remembered, tipping slightly against his temple, as the two of you made your way through his home. As you were finally standing in front of the door, you thanked him again, and managed to conjure a faint smile on his face. Leaning against a wall, Philip nodded slowly. "I hope you come crash my party next weekend again",he suggested, making you laugh. "And maybe cut back on the alcohol", he added and opened the door in a swift manner.

As you headed out, you couldn't help but face him again, trying to memorize every part of his face, before you left. Despite his invitation, you didn’t want to come back so soon. "I hope you find what you're looking for", you said in a seemingly insignificant way, before turning away.

"But I'm not looking for anything", Philip replied with a questioning tone and scratched his neck.

"Maybe that's the problem", you muttered quietly, but loud enough so he could hear it, walking away at a steady pace. "Wait!", he suddenly hollered, but you didn't slow down. " I don't even know your name!"

A smile spread across your face. He didn't even know your name.

[jo-the-schmo]

Show Me (Breaking...Alternate Ending #3) Continuation of #2

Show Me #2

A/N: I am thoroughly ashamed, I hate everything happening right now. Why have I done this???

Wordcount: 1670

Warnings: General discomfort, I’m going to classify this as mild smut and I hate it so much, language as always (I will probably never write anything close to this ever again but I make no promises)

Tags (I am so sorry if you don’t want to be tagged anymore):  @midnightokieriete  @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @pinkyiger7 @littlemissshortcakes @msageofenlightenment @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandom-panda-221 @hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space @tayahqr (lol) @asprinkleofmermaids @pinkyiger7 (I’m tagging you twice my friend!) @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism @okie-dokie-artichokeme @alyssumax@pandartist @marquiis-de-la-baguette @abi-sans05 @apandawithcookies (Adding you because you requested this)

It all must continue, the end is near for this line...

Why the hell am I supposed to do?! WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! You were starting to panic. What the hell was that? I don’t see Alex like that!...Right? I don’t see him like that, right?! Did I initiate that? I can’t tell! It was...kinda nice… No! Stop thinking like that Y/N! He’s married! And the kids...and Philip! You can’t do this! You felt like you could still feel his lips against yours, the roughness of it, the scratchiness from his stubble. It was...intense, that seemed to be the word that fit best. Your face felt like it was burning. Okay, this has to stop! You decided to try and sleep. So you got ready for bed and laid down. Unfortunately, sleeping was easier said than done. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. You couldn’t figure out why either and that bothered you even more. Eventually, your eyes were forced to shut. It was cold and dark, at first. Then the blue light came back. It inhaled you into its frozen light. You smelled smoke, old smoke. Like a day old campfire. Then a voice faded in and sent shivers through your brain, your own.

“I’ve never been satisfied either…”

Your eyes shot open and you graciously took a much needed gulp of air. Your whole body felt weak, you were exhausted. For a moment, you didn’t notice the smell, simply relating it to your dream. But you weren’t dreaming anymore. The faint scent of smoke loomed over you. You looked out your window and saw a dark plume of ash coming from the front yard. Quickly, you got ready, changing into your work clothes. As you were about to reach for the door, you noticed your chair propped under the handle. Did I lock myself in? I don’t remember doing that… You shook off the eerie feeling in your gut and moved the chair out of the way and made your way out. That’s when you had a realization. A pamphlet came out today, important and discussing the affairs of Alex, smoke coming from the front yard. Eliza… You picked up the pace and as you ran through the hall, you saw another chair propped underneath a door handle. The study. You shoved it out of the way and busted through the door. The room was a mess and you had just cleaned it last night. The drawers were open and papers littered the  hardwood floor. Alex was laid down on the couch, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. You ran over to him, leaning over him and shaking his shoulders.

“Alex! Alex, wake up! You need to get up right now!”  He stirred a bit, he seemed to be having a nice dream. You felt bad to pull him out of it and welcome him with this sort of news. You tapped his face lightly. “Alexander Hamilton! Wake the hell up!” You said a bit more sternly.

“Titania…? What are you doing…?” He yawned, taking your hand and moving it away from his face.

“It’s Eliza! She’s making a monumentally horrible mistake for history, we need to go right now!” You helped to pull him up off the makeshift bed. His cravat was laying on the ground and his vest was unbuttoned. Looking back on it, you should’ve let him fix his clothes but neither of you were really paying attention to that. You grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the study, through the house and out the front door. Eliza was throwing papers into a fire made on the front lawn, Rachel was standing off the the side watching.

“Betsy! What in God’s name are you doing?” Alex asked as he jogged down the front steps, you trailing behind him. She looked furious.

“Don’t you ‘Betsy’ me, Alexander! I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago! Burning the thing that pushed you away from me! These papers, your work, your obsession! I hope that you’re happy, because you’ve ruined me!” She threw the rest of the papers into the burning pile, you nodded to Rachel as she chased after her.

“Lady Eliza! Wait, we can talk about this!” You heard Rachel plead as they disappeared inside. You focused back on Alex. He kneeled down in front of still burning fire and picked up a burnt shred of parchment. He studied it, held it in his trembling hands but stayed quiet. You knelt down beside him and glanced at the piece yourself, it was the bottom corner of the original page. In very neat cursive it read as ‘Always yours, John Laurens’ Alex stared down at the piece, almost as though he was trying to silently apologize to it. You placed your hands on his, trying to calm the shaking.

“Shhh… It’s okay...Alex, look at me.” He didn’t respond. “Alex, please… Look at me.” You said a bit more softly. You gave his hands a light squeeze as he turned his head to look at you. “I’m so sorry Alex...I’m so, so sorry…” You could feel how hurt he was with his eyes alone. It wasn’t the years of destroyed work that bothered him, it was the memories now reduced to cinders that were getting to him. Alex had talked with you about Laurens in the past. No matter what label you put on their relationship, it still was real. You felt as though it was more than just a friendship but you never wanted to pry. He shook his head and you let him lean onto your shoulder. You shifted over so you would be in front of him, his forehead moving into the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his back to pull him in closer, he seemed to find it comforting. You looked over at the door and saw Philip standing on the porch. You couldn’t figure out why you felt so conflicted, he seemed just as confused.

“Need any help?” He mouthed to you.

“No, I’ve got him.” You mouthed back. He nodded and went back inside. After a few minutes, you felt Alex start to relax. You moved your hand over to his and tilted his head up. “Are you okay to go back inside now? I can help you clean up the study a little bit.” You smiled sadly at him.

“Yes...I believe I’m alright now.” He sighed. He stood up and helped you off the ground. The two of you went back inside and made your way to the study, it was still as messy as it was before. You closed the door behind you.

“Okay, I’ll start with the papers…” I just did this last night! UGH! You went over and began to pick up the papers, you straightened them up as you walked over to the desk. But you felt a hand touch your waist, stopping you in your tracks. Your arm slowly fell, the papers going with it, landing back on the floor. You recognized the feeling, the hand specifically. Then you felt the person pressed against your back. “Alex…?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just me.” He responded, his words hit the side of your head. “I just...wanted to say thank you…You truly helped me today, I’m not quite used to accepting help. Most people choose not to bother.” You stayed still as he spoke.

“Alex, of course I’m going to help you! I understand a lot of the stuff you go through and I really care about you…”

“I care about you too Y/N, more than I should admit. That’s why I feel as though I must remind you of something. I trust you with my deepest thoughts, which to me is worth more than my own life. I had hoped for you to trust me equally but last night...I had to have broken that trust. I was weak but that is no excuse for what I did! I made advances on you that were not for a just man to have done, I became the thing that you fear! I can’t apologize enough for how horrid I was...Look, even now it’s difficult for me to pull myself away from you!” His hand began to move away from your waist but you grabbed his wrist and snaked his arm back around. He was taken aback by this, and so were you.

“I do trust you Alex...That’s why I… What happened last night wasn’t one sided, Alexander.” You leaned back against his chest.

“Wait...What?” You could already feel your heart racing.

“I leaned into that kiss too... and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since...God, I sound like a terrible person, huh?” He took a deep breath after your answer.

“So you regret it?” He asked.

“It...depends on what you mean by ‘regret’. Do I think that it was a mistake? Yes. Did I enjoy it and can’t stop imagining it? Also yes. So, I suppose it just depends on who you’re asking…” He turned you around, you were so close. You could feel his breath on your skin. His hand came up to caress your cheek, his thumb trace lightly against your bottom lip.

“Is...this a mistake too?” He asked softly, you shivered.

“Yes…”

“Should we stop?” You took a moment to respond.

“No.”  He didn’t waste a second after that answer. He pressed his lips into yours, the same feeling of confusion waving over you. You backed up and ended up hitting the desk, your arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted you up to sit on it. You thought for a moment that you heard a sound from the opposite side of the room but you couldn’t be sure. He pulled away quickly, leaving you gasping for air.

“You know, you can always say no to this…” He informed you.

“I don’t think I know how.”  

[jo-the-schmo]

Breaking...Ch.14

Masterlsit Part 13 is here lol

A/N: This is my shortest chapter yet and it’s dull af I’m so sorry.

Wordcount:1855 (v short)

Warnings: Idk at this pint, does disappointment count?

Tags: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips@sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7 @littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment @unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub@myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013@lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms@hoshihime98 @shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2 (lol) @asprinkleofmermaids @pinkyiger7 (I’m tagging you twice my friend!) If anyone else wants to be tagged just send me an ask!

Breaking Plans

It’s been a solid week since you fought with Philip and neither of you has said a word to each other since. You wanted to, you really did, you just didn’t know what to say. You wanted to apologize because you knew you were in the wrong; you were adult enough to admit that. All he was wanted to do was help you and you just metaphorically slapped him in the face. You felt like a grade A certified asshole. Completely miserable, honestly you had a better time working for Burr because at least then you had something to look forward to. Writing to him, waiting to see him, dreaming about him. Now you had nothing. He was here, you saw him every day and it hurt you. The way he looked at you hurt you, it wasn’t a look of hatred or even of disappointment. He was confused. His eyes alone said it all, he didn’t even have to ask out loud the questions he wanted answers to. ‘Why did you say that? Did I do something wrong? Am I really just some kid to you?’ Those questions were something you had no problem answering. Why did I say that? Because I’m stupid. Did you do something wrong? No, of course not! Are you just some kid to me? No! No, I love you I think? You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to do something. As worried as you were about other possible questions he may ask, you had to make this nonsense stop. You messed with your hair for a second before getting off your bed, making your way through the main room and up the stairs. You looked down at the hall and felt your stomach turn. You couldn’t help but feel nervous as you looked at his door. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and went up to his door. From in the room you could hear a furious scratching sound. You needed a way to start off, an idea formed in your head. You gave the door a soft knock, the sound stopped.

“Who is it?” He called out from behind the door.

“It’s me…” You responded, he sighed.

“I’m writing.” He said simply. Okay, time to try the idea. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture to help your diaphragm.

“Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” You sang softly, you heard him shift.

“What?”

“Just let me in, that would be enough.” You continued.

“What are you doing?”

“What? Do I need to step up my game? Alright, you asked for it mister!” You put your hand in front of your mouth and did the best beat box you could manage, doing it for a moment before stopping and trying to rap. “My name is Y/N, I can be a poet! I’ll recite this poem just to show you. But I can’t say your mine, you have kind eyes but you probably hate mine. I practice Latin and watch you play piano with your mother! I called you mister to prove you’re not a bother! This crazy day’s making me say what I think! Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq!” You heard him chuckle as you adjusted to a more soft voice and more melodic song tone. “Take a break! I can’t fully explain what happened this winter while you were up state! But I’m taking this advice from your father. There’s something I know, I need to be more stark, please let me in before the day turns dark!” You stopped for a moment and heard footsteps approaching you, the door opened slowly.

“I’ll try to pull myself away.” He took a step back to let you enter and you did so, closing the door behind you.

“My dearest Philip Hamilton, it’s really hard to tell you this. Sit down with me and compromise, we can’t stop till we’re appeased. Don’t tell your little sister, Titania will remind you, you’re my favorite Hamilton, even when you can’t look at me. In those letters I received from you a few weeks ago I noticed some things in the way your phrased. I realized my feelings, I must defend this. When I woke I knew I must protect and say…My dearest Philip Hamilton, I’m sorry for not being fearless. I’ll say it again, you’re my dearest, Philip Hamilton… Anyway, all just the same! I’ll tell you what I can muster, I know I seem evasive. But it’s to protect your family from what happened while you were upstate. I know you’re very busy, I know you’re more important! But I’m addressing my flawed mess and I just can’t wait! You can still push me away. But I like you only a moment away!” You sang.

“My starlight, please come here. I should’ve come to you before today!” He matched your melody and held out his arms. You couldn’t help but run into them, both of you hugging each other tightly. You pressed the side of your face into his shoulder. “Oh my starlight…” He sang softly.

“My sunshine…”  You didn’t even sing that last line, tears began to trickle down your cheeks and onto his shoulder. He smoothed down your hair and held you close. “I’m sorry…I don’t want you to get hurt, I know I can be really defensive but I’m trying to open up more because I want to open up to you! I care about you and I don’t want you to be upset, you aren’t just some kid to me, I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t mean it. I don’t think I can tell you what happened yet, but it’s not because I’m in danger or anything I just literally can’t say it for a lot of reasons. I’m really stressed out about this and I can’t even come close to describing how upset I am that I can’t tell you because I want to, I don’t want to lie to you but I’m doing everything I can right now. I’m so sorry-“ He cut off your rambling.

“Shh, it’s okay. I get it, I understand. I don’t pretend to know the challenges you’re facing. All these responsibilities you keep maintain and creating in your life. I wish you’d trust me more, yes, but I realized some things too. I am just a kid; I know you just said I’m not but I am. I have a lot of growing up I need to do.”

“What are you talking about? You’re more mature than any other man I’ve met honestly.” You weren’t lying, times have changed drastically in your time compared to now.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time actually, Grandfather helped me realize it. History has its eyes on me and I want the person our nation remembers to be fair, passionate and wise. That’s why I’ve decided something…”

“W-What have you decided?” Don’t tell me…Philly?

“I’m going to boarding school next fall.” He informed somberly, he didn’t look at you but you could tell he was a bit sad. He’s…He’s leaving? “So? What do you think?” He asked.

“I, uh, that’s good I guess. If that’s what you really want to do…then I’ll support you. H-How long will you be gone for?” You questioned nervously. He sighed.

“In normal cases, a year and be back for the summer but… It’s college and I want to graduate as fast as my father did… So, I’ll be away during the summer as well.” A whole year?! He looked at the worry on your face. “Don’t worry! I’ll be able to visit for Christmas and such! You won’t just not see me for two years!” TWO YEARS?!

“That long? But…” No! Y/N, as much as you love him you need to let him do this! I can’t just shelter him, no matter how much I want to take him far away from this place. “Okay, just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself and that you’ll write to us whenever you get the chance…And the most important thing, promise me you’ll still be Philip when you come back…Promise?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. He was only a few inches taller than you. He nodded, a soft smile on his lips.

“Of course, I’ll always be your sunshine! The sun always comes back right?” Yeah, the sun will always come back…But it never meets the stars…

…

             After your talk with Philip, you realized your feelings would have to be pushed to the side. You knew that if you told him then he’d stay. He’d stay in New York City with you, love you with every fiber of his being. But, you couldn’t hold him back. He really wants this, he wants to better himself, even if you think that he’s already perfect. This isn’t about you, it’s about him. So, you didn’t tell him. There were times when you thought you should but you didn’t. You loved him too much, he needed to grow and for him to grow you had to wait. It’s a needed sacrifice. Spring went by in the blink of an eye, the hot, sticky air of summer soon passed as well, much to your dismay. August was ending and you knew what that meant. Philip will leave, and the sun will follow him. And it did. The day came for Philip’s departure, everyone was excited to see him succeed while you had to pretend to not feel regret. He hugged and kissed everyone until you were the only one left. You couldn’t tell why but you felt like he was holding something back when he looked at you. Like he wanted to say more than he did. He took your hand, kissed the knuckle but stayed like that longer than usual. When he finally lifted his hand he said.

“Goodnight, my starlight.” It took you a moment to realize what he was saying. He said the exact same thing that night, after you both had watched the stars together.

“Night, Sunshine” You quoted yourself. Everyone else went inside as he walked over to the carriage waiting for him. “Wait! Philly, one more thing!” You ran up to him as he stood in front of the open carriage door. You cupped your hand over his cheek and turned his face to the side, placing a soft kiss on the opposite cheek. He froze, eyes filled with awe. You pulled away and smiled with bittersweet words on your tongue. “Make me proud, Sunny.” You’ve never seen him smile as hard as he was at that moment, like his childhood dream just came true. He nodded happily.

“Wait for me. I’ll be back before you know it!” You took a step back and let him get into the carriage, you watched as it pulled out of the yard and down the street. You didn’t go back inside until it was out of your line of sight. You shut the door behind you, already feeling empty without him near you.

I did the right thing…right?

Will I ever be satisfied?

[jo-the-schmo]

Breaking... Ch.12

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

A/N: This chapter took way too long because I wasn’t planning for it but it’s here now so let’s go y’all! I’ll get back to the main plot next chapter I swear!

Wordcount: 3609

Warnings: Blood, slut shaming, taunting, cursing

Tags!!: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @pinkyiger7 @littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @lmaodedhaha @itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98 If anyone else would like to be tagged just shoot me an ask saying so! ^-^

Breaking Trust

You felt the impact send waves through your skull, they reverberated through your brain. Bouncing off the bone. You were falling past the ground, it seemed like the ground faded from under you. Varying shades of grey were around you and sticking out like jagged stone; but as it faded out to white you felt the familiar wrapping of silk around your body. Just as you saw the end of the gleaming fabric, one of the pieces wrapped itself around your leg and dangled you above your point of exit. You stared numbly into the light, you couldn’t see anything beyond it but you could hear something faint. “Miss, I’m going to need you to step back and leave the room! The doctor needs room to work.” It was a woman, she sounded older and frustrated. “No! Please, I need to be here with her! Y/N! Please, wake up!” Another woman said, she seemed much younger than the first and her ton was frantic. Her voice was familiar. “Damn it all! She’s drifting off! Miss L/N, do not fall back asleep!” An older male voice called. You tried to fight the silk and reach out towards the voices but it was no use. The silk raised you up as you struggled and flung you the way you fell. You flew through the air, past the white, past the rocks and into the light you came from.

             Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air. You were laying on some kind of couch and you felt the warmth and light from a fire nearby.

“Well, at least you’re finally up.” A female voice said curtly. You looked around to see a woman standing by a door. Her clothes were similar to yours, only her bodice was orange and had longer sleeves. “Honestly, you’re lucky to be alive at all. If Mr. Burr had not seen your horse, you would certainly be dead.” Mr. Burr? Her voice was cold, her hair, skin and eyes all matched that tone. Icy.

“Where am I?” You asked as your frantically sat up. She chuckled at your panic.

“I shall inform Mr. Burr of your current status. Wait here.” She ordered you and walked out of the room. What the hell happened? The last thing I remember… You touched the left side of your face and winced. You felt some sort of bandage along your left temple and although you couldn’t see it, you could feel how bruised your face was. There were footsteps coming toward the door so you stood up, you still felt a bit dizzy but you quickly steady yourself. In walked in a familiar man, dark skin, wearing a deep purple and a pleasant smile.

“I see that you are awake. What was your name? Titania, was it?” He asked.

“M-Mr. Burr, sir! Um, that’s what I am called yes?” Am I lying? He nodded and sensed your confusion about the situation.

“I heard a commotion outside my door at sun rise and saw a horse with gear standing on my lawn. I recognized it as belonging to Mr. Hamilton and decided I should send it back to his estate but it was acting rather strange.  It kept moving away from me whenever I approached and, although it was probably foolish for to think it, it seemed to want to show me something. Low and behold you were not even a twenty meters from my home. I brought you back and called for a doctor, you had a terrible head wound but he said that you would wake up soon. Luckily he was correct, the sun has just only begun to set.” He explained. That’s crazy! Seriously universe? Why do you have to be such a bitch to me?!

“I don’t know what to say… Thank you, Mr. Burr! You really saved my life! I don’t know how I can thank you enough let alone repay you for this!”

“No need for thanks, I couldn’t just leave you out to die now could I? And in terms of repayment, I shall talk with Alexander about that.” Talk with Alex…Fuck… He’s not supposed to know about what happened! And hell I’ve already caused them enough trouble, why do I have to be like this?! He’s going to have to pay money for my idiocy! Ugh! He could read your disappointment as if you were actually saying it to him.

“Is something the matter?” He asked. Fuck.

“No, no, no, no, no! That’s perfectly fine! It’s just… I don’t exactly like having other people pay my debts but I suppose I’ll have to just live with it.” This is going to be bad when they get back… He closed his eyes like he was thinking about something. You couldn’t read his expression at all, which was something that Alex frequently complained about him. He was elusive.

“I have a proposition for you then, Miss Titania.” What?

“A proposition?” You asked.

“My wife you see, has fallen quite ill and we are a bit short of staff. I am aware that the Hamiltons are up town for the winter. Perhaps, while they are away, you could lend your services to help around here.” He offered.

“Seriously? Thank you so much, Mr. Burr! I just really don’t want to cause any problems for Alex and I’ll work really hard to make sure my debt is paid-“ He shushed you.

“Talk less.” Wait, what? “I will take that as a yes, however there are some rules you must follow.”

“Oh, um, of course.”

“Things are done very differently around here than at Alexander’s. You are at the Burr estate now and you must behave as such. Based on how you have worked at the Hamilton’s I can tell that your personality is rather… loud. That will not be the case while you are with me. Talk less, smile more. That is how you shall operate. You will be expected to hold a demeanor of calm and collectiveness at all times. I will not tolerate anything less, is that clear?” You were surprised by how serious he was while speaking to you, you were actually taken aback. I suppose not everything could be as accepting as it is with them… Even with the terms being so out of character for you, you knew you had to try. So you agreed to the conditions.

             That night you were given back your horse and set out for the estate. You felt slightly uncomfortable with having to ride again after what happened but it was your only option. You were going to be a maid for the Burr’s and would have to leave at dawn every morning to get there on time for work. You got back home, led the horse back to the stables and went inside. You hastily prepared a fire to ward off the chill in your bones. You weren’t sure why but you didn’t have a good feeling about this.

…

Dear Starlight,

             It already feels as though I have been away from you a century, has it truly only been a month and a half since I have seen you? I miss you, I miss our conversations, I miss your lectures, I miss your voice, your spirit, your passion. I miss it all, everything down to the way you hold a teacup as though it could fall apart in your hands. It is very quiet uptown; I do not think I like the quiet though. It feels empty and, dare I say, a bit lonely without you by my side to share your thoughts on this world we live in. Everyone else misses you as well. Father and Mother have been telling Grandfather all about you, he seems to find you quite charming. Angelica says that studying is becoming a bore without you there to give her alternative methods of remembering her work. Even Alexander, James and John seem quite withdrawn; specifically, they long for one of your fairytales. I have no idea what they are talking about but it has something to do with a fruit that can show you everything you desire? Or was it about gaining knowledge from it? It sounds fascinating, then again, everything about you intrigues me. It is surprising to think that it has not even been an entire year since our first meeting, I feel as though I have known you my entire life. Although since we are on a similar subject, I have some rather exciting news. My birthday is next week! I shall be turning sixteen, soon enough I will no longer be considered a boy but instead a young man. However, I only care about that title when it comes to you. Your wit and luminosity may suggest you consider me an equal. Yet, does that mean your heart sees me as such? I wish not to be considered a child in thine eyes, a boy who becomes as red as a blooming rose over his frivolous romanticized fantasies. I do not think the word ‘different’ quite fits how I see you, perhaps extraordinary would be a better term? You are not like any of the other maidens I have encountered; you are bold, utterly silly and stubborn in every wondrous way. You are the brightest star is the sky, the North Star. Others gaze upon you and wonder where you shall lead them, while I can only hope that you will take pity on a soul deprived of your love, a soul left completely helpless. I see your eyes and smile in the night sky, Lord knows that I have prayed. I have prayed that you will leave your celestial heaven and keep beside me. Is it not embarrassing? Even on paper I cannot articulate what I am feeling without becoming muddled. Perhaps it is best if I wait to express myself when I meet you at the end of February. Until then ma cherié, please do not forget to write. I know you must be busy as to not have the time to write but that shall not stop my own writing tendencies, your words bring me more joy than you could possibly imagine.

Sincerely yours,

P. Ham, your sunshine.

Your mind and your heart were telling you two distinctly different things by the time you finished reading Philip’s letter. Why does everything have to be so complicated?! You held your head in your hands, trying to decide what to do next. It’s been two weeks since you started to work for Aaron Burr and to say you hated it would an understatement. You’ve never felt so restricted in your entire life, it was huge reality check for you. Not everything could be all feminism and modern like it was with Alexander. Proper etiquette hangs over your head constantly, you never expected Burr to be as uptight as he is. It isn’t all bad though, Mrs. Burr is actually quite lovely. She tells you many stories of her younger days when she’s well enough to speak cohesively. Honestly, the best times were when she was awake, it always gave you the chance to take a breather from Aaron. He wants to be by her side as often as time allows, he acts like a completely different person around her. He’s happy. That doesn’t last too long though, and Sarah doesn’t help much either. Sarah was the maid that was ‘by your side’ when you awoke at the Burr estate. She’s kind of, maybe, the worst person. She frequently taunts you for the position you’re in and tries to accuse you because of your relationship with the Hamilton’s. “I know what you did, who knew a man would actually defend his whore.” When you asked her what she was trying to imply she said. “I wonder how the son reacted to learn that his whore was also his father’s. I believe I would pay to see such an encounter!” No matter how many times you try to convince her of the truth, she just shuts you down and claims that a prostitute will do anything to hide her sins. First of all, I’ll do what I damn well please with my body! Second of all, I DID NOT have an affair with Alexander! Seriously, I thought this whole situation was over! You didn’t have time to read the letter before you had to leave for work, so you took it with you. You heard footsteps from beyond the door you were behind and quickly hid the letter in your bodice. You stood up from where you were sitting at the dining room table, taking your spare cloth off of your apron and using it to wipe the table. You know, to make it seem like you were working even though there was nothing to clean yet. Sarah, cold looking as ever, came bursting in.

“Good morning, Miss Home Wrecker. I will be taking care of Lady Burr today, which means you will be in charge of everything else for the day. I suggest you be on your best behavior, or else you shall receive quite a tongue lashing from Mr. Burr… Although you probably want that!” She snorted as she left you alone to fester in your anger. Fuck you too, Sarah! Okay Y/N, calm down. It’s only for another five or so weeks. I can do this! Just put on your best smile and suck it up, buttercup! You took a deep breath and left to take your normal rounds. Things were going relatively smoothly, at least until mid-day approached.

             You heard a carriage drawing into the ‘driveway’ as you started to call it. Ugh, a visitor… Normally, you wouldn’t mind having to greet a visitor, but you haven’t had to deal with any of Burr’s guest yet. You weren’t excited. Nevertheless, you did what you were taught, you walked over to the door and smiled sweetly. You heard footsteps and you opened the door, closing your eyes to block out the brightness from the light hitting the snow outside.

“Welcome to the Burr estate! What may I do for you today?” You asked in a bubbly voice.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Oh no. Please let it be a hallucination! Please let it be a hallucination! You slowly opened your eyes and to no surprise the first thing you see is a bright color. Magenta. The whole image started to fade in, Thomas Jefferson, in all his horridness, was standing in front of you. On top of that, you had to greet him with a smile and give him hospitality. I’d rather shut the door in his face… You bit your tongue and moved out of the way for him so that he could enter. “Well, well, well, Miss Titania! I would never guess I would find you here. What brings you? I thought Hamilton was away for the winter?” He gave you a mischievous grin as you shut the door behind him.

“Simply working, nothing worthy of noting.” You said through gritted teeth. He chuckled, but before he could retort, Burr’s voice echoed from the nearby staircase.

“Hello Thomas, forgive me but my wife is awake at the moment so I must focus on her. Miss Taylor, please make him some tea.” Can I pour the tea on him?! You nodded to the demand, you couldn’t exactly say no. You turned and began to walk towards the dining room.

“Take a seat, I’ll be back with your tea shortly.” You lashed, obviously annoyed. He smiled, but he didn’t sit down.

“Actually, I would much rather follow you. I hate not having company and personally, I’d say you make some pretty fine company.” He raised his eyebrows up slightly. This bitch… You shot him a thin smile and turned to walk into the kitchen, rolling your eyes as he trailed behind you. You began the tea preparations, hoping that he would at least give you the pleasure of not speaking. You were not granted that pleasure.

“How have you been Miss Titania?” He asked, your back turned to him.

“Fine.” You said insipidly. You began to heat up the water and turned to find Jefferson a few feet away from you.

“That’s a rather noxious injury you’ve got there.” He pointed and traced out in the air the slight crescent shape from the stitching on your left temple. You covered it up with your hand. “May I ask how that happened?” He asked with curiosity in his brown eyes, you spoke as you walked past him to grab the tea box.

“It seems that I am no equestrian, Mr. Jefferson.” You said with dun. He clicked his tongue.

“I see.” After that, things went silent for a moment. You got out the teapot and made the tea, now all that was left was for you to set up the tray and cups, you assumed Burr would join him shortly. You set the tray down, picked out he saucers, the cream and sugar as well. You grabbed one of the tea cups with both hands, careful not to drop it and as you picked up the second one, Thomas spoke up.

“How has Philip been recently.”

Crack, shatter, puncture, warm.

             Some glass fragments from the delicate cup began to trickle from your seizing hands, the pieces digging into your palms. You whipped your head around, shock was etched into his features and it only grew deeper when he saw the burning hatred on your own.

“Don’t ever! You do not have the right to ask me about him after what you did! You made him hate me! Even if it was only for a day, it killed me! You do not deserve the grace of hearing his effulgent name, let alone say it!” You spat, you had had enough. You couldn’t hold back anymore, you were tumultuous. You felt like crying, screaming, and being sick all at the same time. He doesn’t deserve to know how wonderful that family is! He almost ruined them! He threw his hands up to show peace.

“Whoa, perhaps it would be best to calm down.” He said in an oddly soothing voice. You wanted to yell, don’t tell me to calm down! But you realized something.

The cup

You opened your hands and the rest of the glass fell to the floor, there were tiny cuts on your hands and blood prickled out from the ends but that’s not what you cared about. Fuck! You crouched down onto the ground and frantically began to pick up the pieces, gathering them up in your apron cloth to hold them.

“No, no, no, no! Burr’s going to kill me!” You spoke breathlessly and then a voice you really didn’t want to hear.

“Why am I going to kill you?” Burr asked dryly. He looked down at what you were doing, his expression blank. You hated that look, it made you even more fearful than most things. The idea that he could be thinking of anything and you wouldn’t know terrified you enough as it was. But now it was directed at you. You were about to apologize, try to convince him it was an accident and that you were sorry but you were interrupted.

“I dropped my cup, you know me Burr, my senses are never quite right when I’m around a pretty lady! I’ll pay for it, don’t worry about it!” Jefferson laughed. What? What’s he doing? Burr sighed and shook his head, rubbing his temples, which he commonly did when he was stressed.

“Seriously, Thomas? You can’t stop your womanizing for even a second? Well… It’s not the good china so I suppose no harm was done. I came in here to tell you that we shall head to the cabinet in a moment, I just have to get properly dressed first. It’ll only be a moment. Taylor, please clean up this mess.” He said as he turned and left the two of you alone once more. You quickly gathered up the rest of the glass and stood up, making sure it wouldn’t fall out of the sides of your apron, the edges you holding lightly between your fingers. You turned to look at Jefferson.

“Why…? Why did you cover for me?” You were dumbfounded, he took a deep breath.

“I know how Burr can be, it was honestly just better to say that I did it. Besides, I’m not a scoundrel all the time you know?” You disposed of the glass as he stepped closer to you. He was only a foot away from you by the time you noticed, he held out his hand.

“May I see your hands?” He asked calmly. You reluctantly showed him your hands, he held one in each of his and inspected them closely. “Hm, you should be alright. Clean them up, use a cloth to stop the bleeding and if anyone asks, tell them you slipped on the ice outside.” He instructed, you nodded along, still a bit confused.

“Why would you help me? Don’t you hate me or what I stand for or something?” He sighed at your question.

“Listen, I will admit that my accusations were under a false pretense, that I apologize for. I wasn’t asking you about Philip to be antagonizing, I was genuinely curious. I talked to James a while back and he told me about what you said. ‘I don’t care about my name’ All you care about is everyone else’s wellbeing. You could say it put things into perspective for me. Why would a whore care about her ‘lover’ and not have it be about money? Why would Hamilton write an entire pamphlet to protect the dignity of one mistress but incriminate the other? It doesn’t make sense, unless I’m wrong and that you truly had nothing to do with it. It was presumptuous of me, and for that I am very sorry. When it comes to Philip however, I am rather close to Angelica and we have discussed the two of you the recently. So do not worry, I get it.” He let go of your hands and gave you a soft smile, walking past you towards the exit into the dining room. “I should meet with Burr, perhaps I shall meet with you again in the future, Titania? It would be a real shame to not see your pretty face again. Au revoir, mademoiselle.” He waved goodbye to you with that same grin on his face. What just happened? Is he not an asshole 24/7? You were left to stew in your questions for a bit, but you eventually followed the directions he gave you, pushing the questions to the back of your mind. Which then made new questions form.

What am I going to do when they get back?

[jo-the-schmo]

Breaking... Ch.9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A/N: I AM SO DAMN EXCITED FOR THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA! I’ve been anticipating this chapter ever since I started writing this and I’m excited for you all to read it! I hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 4000 (mmm I love that solid number!)

Warnings: Cursing, sob, fluff, info drops, slavery is horrible but it is brought up here sorry 

Tags!!: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @literally-melonkitty @deltablue202 @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @pinkyiger7

Breaking Stereotypes

Dear possible journal,

             November is far too quickly coming to an end. Rachel told me after we heard the news that we would be staying here at the estate to keep everything in order. I can tell you with full confidence that all the kids have been complaining about it to Alex and Eliza. I told them that they would be fine, they were fine before I showed up after all but they just get annoyed every time I point that out. Philly by far has been the worst perpetrator in that sense. “But who’s going to make tea for us?” They have maids at the Schuyler estate too Philip, stop making excuses! I do have to admit, it’s going to be odd not waking up at the crack of dawn to get everyone dressed and fed. Or to help the kids with their work and reading them stories when they can’t sleep. It’s just strange how used to life here I’ve become. I will admit, I’m not excited for their departure, Rachel is wonderful but I don’t think I can last being by myself for that long with nothing to do. Rachel has actually been acting rather strange recently, she seems distracted. She’s been like this for a month now I think, I asked he what was wrong but she just responded with “Simply worried about the trip.” I don’t believe her. She gave me my own head cloth to keep my hair out of my face while I’m working. Honestly she probably only gave it to me as a bribe to stop asking questions. I know your tricks Rachel; you can’t fool me! Actually, I’m pretty sure I left it in her room when I checked up on her yesterday. She said she was having trouble writing so I suggested she take a break. You usually find the right words when you least expect it. Anyways, I should probably go get that cloth, I think it looks surprisingly good on me for something that actually has a functional purpose. Until next time, random sheet of paper that I stole from Alex.

P.S. I swear every time I get done writing my hand starts to cramp, does this happen to everyone?

             You set your writing materials off to the side and jumped out of your seat. Perks to living next door to your coworker/friend! You went over and knocked on Rachel’s door. She’s usually taking her break right about now. No response, you called out.

“Rachel? You in there?” You turned the knob to peek inside, making sure she wasn’t just not paying attention. No one was inside but you could tell she was just there not too long ago. Eh, I can just grab my head band thing and go, no big deal. I left it on the window sill I think?  You stepped inside, walked over to the window and grabbed your cloth, you had to lean over the desk to get it but you got it nonetheless. Something on the desk caught your eye. A ring? It was a simple band, made of some kind of silvery metal, you couldn’t tell what. It was thin and clean, pretty in an understated kind of way. You picked it up and held it in the palm of your hand. There was paper and ink still laid out on the desk, she must’ve been writing recently. You couldn’t help yourself when your eyes caught the few words etched into the paper.

‘My love, though distance separates us, my mind finds you easily.’

My love? Who is she writing to? You heard a sound behind you.

“Y/N! What are you doing in my room? You cannot go into someone’s chamber without permission!” Fuck. You quickly turned to find an obviously enraged Rachel standing in the doorway.

“I, um, nothing?” Seriously! That’s my best answer! Rachel was clearly not buying your charade. She walked over to the desk and took a seat, not even looking at you she figured out what you were holding.

“Put it down.” You complied and dropped it down onto the flat top of the desk. It hit the surface with a small ding and rolled on its side, making a ringing noise.

“It’s very pretty, where did you get it?” You asked as she picked up her quill, dipped it into a small ink jar and began to scratch letters into the page.

“Inheritance.” She said absentmindedly. Inheritance?

“Wait, inheritance? What do you mean?” She lifted her head up in realization.

“Oh, I’ve never told you before have I?” No! You certainly have not!

“Told me what exactly?” You sat down on her bed.

“The only people who know about this are Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, but you’re my friend and I trust you…” She took a deep breath. “My full name is Rachel Marie Sky, I’m sure you can tell from the name but I’m a bastard.” A bastard? “My mother, she was a prostitute and she met my wealthy father, fell in love with him but he was already married. I was born out of wedlock and my mother died while giving birth to me. When my father found out about her death and my existence he took me in but since I’m not a product of his marriage I became part of the staff as soon as I could walk. When he died, all I was given was this ring. I’m honestly lucky to have gotten anything, his wife certainly did not know I received this. It was supposed to be a gift to my mother but it was bestowed to me instead. That’s actually how I ended up with the Hamilton’s as well. The families knew each other and once they heard my story they allowed me to stay.” Her expression changed, the whole time she was talking she was practically straight faced but once she brought up Alex and Eliza she seemed troubled.

“What’s wrong? You don’t seem too happy…”

“It’s not that I am not happy, I’m just…conflicted.” She looked down at her page.

“Who’s that for by the way? Sorry, but I read the first line…” Her eyes practically popped out of her head.

“You read it? Y/N Taylor! Ladies do not read others documents without asking!” Ugh! I know Rachel! I am not good at this lady business!

“I’m sorry! I legitimately didn’t do it on purpose! I promise! Who is this person you’re writing to?” I need all of the information! She looked downcast.

“His name is Cato… We met several years ago and we’ve written to each other ever since.” Aww! That’s so cute! I ship it! “But…it’s complicated! It wouldn’t work out…”

“What? Why? You obviously care about him! I mean you called him your love for Pete’s sake!” You argued, she held her head in her hands.

“I do love him! I’ve loved him for years! But… he’s a slave.” Oh…oh no…

“Oh Rachel… I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…” She picked her head up and shook it furiously.

“No, no, no, no! You misunderstand! He is only considered a slave by law, although that isn’t great, he is not treated as one! His ‘master’ considers him a friend, in fact the only reason he is considered a slave is for protection. The man is very kind but he’s smart, he understands that slavery will not be abolished for quite some time. So he ‘bought’ Cato, that way no one else would be able to mistreat him. They are very close, so close that the idea of being slave and master don’t register. I’m happy that he is as close to freedom as he can be…” I suppose that’s honorable in a way. It’s horrible that slavery exists in this world but the fact that someone was willing to let someone be free when that decision can’t be properly given to them is incredible. That shit can’t be said about Jefferson! Still… this has got to be difficult for both of them to figure out.

“But wait, why is this effecting you so suddenly?” If she’s loved him for years, why now of all times? You heard a voice echo from down the hall.

“TT! Rachel! Come on! We have a surprise!” Angie? Rachel put down her quill, stood up and brushed off her skirt. You followed her out the door. The two of you walked down the halls, you heard people talking in the main room. You turned the corner and saw Alex and all of the children. The younger ones were jumping excitedly and Angie was running up to a woman talking to Eliza. She had a bright smile, dark skin, her long curls were pulled back into a neat ponytail and her dress was as big as Eliza’s except it was pink. Angie hugged the woman tightly. “I knew it! I knew Mama would invite you Aunt Angelica!” Aunt Angelica? Wait! ANGELICA SCHUYLER CHURCH!

“Hello Darling! It’s wonderful to see you again!” She patted Angie on the head and looked over at Alex. “It’s nice to see you too Alexander.” She said dryly. Ooooh, I can feel the sting from over here… Alex looked away, obviously a bit hurt by the comment but no one else seemed to notice. The other children were bouncing excitedly while Philip shook his heads in distain.

“Do not misunderstand me when I say this Auntie but I can only handle one of you at a time. Angie, I love you. But one Angelica at a time is ideal!” Philip joked, Angie crossed her arms.

“Hmph, your loss then Philly because me and Auntie are going to be together all winter! You will just have to learn to deal with it!” She shot back. Rachel finally made your presences known.

“Hello Lady Angelica, it is wonderful to see you again. Shall I take in your things?”

“Oh yes, thank you very much Rachel.” Angelica replied. Rachel went out the front door to grab the luggage in the carriage sitting outside. Eliza jumped up slightly.

“William! It’s time for his feeding, I shall be back soon. Children, I know you are very excited to see your Aunt but please do make sure not to bother her.” She made her way up the stairs, presumably to the nursery. The fact that she can just gauge that stuff is scary yet also awesome! Philip smiled at you and gestured for you to join the group, you were certainly not opposed to this and were swiftly standing in front of Angelica.

“Hello, Mrs. Church! My name is Y/N Taylor; it is a pleasure to meet you!” This is by far the coolest! She smiled back at you.

“Ah, so this is the girl my sister has been telling me about.” Why did she look at Philip when she said that? Angie grabbed Philip and AJ’s arms and began to pull them towards the stairs.

“Alright boys! I have a lot of packing to do and all of you are going to help me! That means you too James and John!”

“But I do not wish to help you pack!” Philip groaned. Angie looked over at you.

“TT, should Philip and the boys help me pack?” She asked.

“Philip, AJ, Jamie, Johnny, go help your sister finish packing. Or at least get most of it done!” All of them collectively sighed as response to your demand.

“Thank you TT!” Angie said before dragging the boys upstairs. Angelica cleared her throat and looked over at Alex.

“Alexander, I would like to speak with you for a moment if you don’t mind.” Alex seemed surprised by the request but quickly brushed it off.

“Of course, please allow me to show you to my study.” And so the two left you in the main room as they disappeared down the hall. Wonder what that was about… The door opened and Rachel came rushing through, carrying two bags with her and closing the door with her heel.

“It’s getting quite chilly! We’ll have a lot of snow these coming months I can assure you that!” Oh no, curse you New York weather!

“Do you need some help with the bags?” You asked.

“No but if you could ask Mr. Hamilton if I need to prepare any more room I would greatly appreciate it.” She made her way to the steps, carrying the luggage with ease.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a second!” You turned around and started down the hallway, taking your head cloth, laying it on top of your head and tying the ends underneath your hair as you walked. You approached the study door and just as you were about the knock you heard a voice.

“You have invented a new kind of stupid, a damage you may never undo kind of stupid, an open all the cages in the zoo kind of stupid. Truly, you didn’t think this through kind of stupid!” It was Angelica. “Let’s review. You took a rumor, a few, maybe two people knew and refuted it by sharing an affair of which no one has accused you! I begged you to take a break, you refused to! So scared of what your enemies will do to you, you’re the only enemy you ever seem to lose to! You know why Jefferson can do what he wants? He doesn’t dignify schoolyard taunts with a response! So yes, congratulations!” She sounds pissed!

“Angelica wai-“

“You’ve redefined your legacy, congratulations!”

“It was an act of political sacrifice!” Alex exclaimed.

“Sacrifice? I languished in a loveless marriage in London, I lived only to read your letters. I look at you and think ‘God, what have we done with our lives and what did it get us?’ That doesn’t wipe the tears of the years away. But I’m back in the city and I’m here to stay and you know what I’m here to do?”

“Angelica…”

“I’m not here for you!”

“I didn’t expect for you to be… You know your sister like you know your own mind. I will never find anyone as trusting or as kind.” Alex…

“A million years ago she said to me ‘This one’s mine’ So I stood by, do you know why? I love my sister more than anything in this life! I will choose her happiness over mine every time!”

“Eliza… Is the best thing in my life.”

“So never lose sight of the fact that you have been blessed with the best wife!”

“For the rest of my life, every sacrifice I make is for your sister. I’ll give the best life, no exaggerations.” Alex finished.

“Good, I’m glad we settled this matter.” You heard footsteps coming towards you, or more specifically towards the door. Shit! I better knock now! You hurried tapped your fist against the door.

“Mr. Hamilton! Rachel sent me to ask you a question.” You opened the door and tried to pretend to be surprised that Angelica was about to walk out. “Oh forgive me, was I interrupting something?”

“Oh no dear, I was just leaving.” You side stepped so she would walk past you and once she was far enough down the hall you entered, closing the door behind you.

“You okay Alex?” You asked worriedly.

“I’m fine Titania, nothing for you to worry about. Did you have something to ask of me?”

“Yeah, Rachel wants to know if she needs to prepare any more rooms. So basically are you planning for more people to show up?” He smiled at your question.

“Actually yes! A good friend of mine shall be accompanying us!” He sounds so excited!

“Alright, I’ll let her know we need another room!” Before you could turn to open the door Alex called out to you.

“Wait Titania, I actually have a question for you as well.” He stood up from his desk, walked around it and leaned up against the edge of the front.

“Um, okay. What is it?” You stepped into the center of the room, Alex put on his ‘serious dad’ face.

“You have seemed troubled these last couple months. Is everything alright?” Oh no, I’ve been avoiding this question. You tried to put on your most convincing smile.

“I’m fine Alex, really I am!” His eyes slanted. He’s not buying this is he?

“Titania, I thought we were past hiding such things from each other. We’re family in this house and I consider you my closest friend. You cannot lie to me about these things. Now, what exactly has you so blue?” Nothing gets past Alex I guess… You sighed.

“I just really want to ask you something but I don’t want to ruin how happy everyone has been lately and I feel like such a pessimist for being concerned with something so trivial but it’s honestly really bothering me and I keep going back and forth on whether I shoul-“

“Whoa! Slow down there Titania. It’s very alright to ask me anything if it troubles you so.” He stepped forward, stood in front of you and patted your shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s just… Why? Why write the pamphlet? Why name it after me? I really don’t understand it!” You huffed in exasperation. Literally I’m pretty sure the only people who believed the rumors was Thomass Jeffershit and Sunshine boy!  Alex looked at you for a second before responding.

“Y/N when you appeared at my side, told me your story and proceeded to breakdown the structure of Shakespeare, I knew that you and I were destined to have a friendship. However, that puts you in a very sensitive position; a position of power that one may want to exploit. I knew of this possibility but I risked that in order to understand you, that was selfish of me. This rumor, that article was not only about me but about you as well. I have committed many errors in my life but I shall not allow the name of an innocent person be slandered. One of my errors was not protecting a dear friend of mine when I had the chance. I will never throw away my shot on a friend ever again because of that. I deserved the shame I was given but once I saw your reaction to Philip I knew I could not sit by and allow for such talk to spread.”

“But Alex, you know I don’t care about my name, my name doesn’t matter!”

“That is where you are wrong. Titania, I shall tell you the same thing I tell all of my other children. Always care about your legacy, because what you will leave behind shall be great, greater than what anyone can imagine. You are family and one of the great things I hope for you to do with your own name is stay apart of this family.” He smiled down at you, you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him a small hug.

“Thank you…Alex…” You pulled away and quickly went over to the door, before leaving you turned back to Alex. “Or should I say, thank you Alexander Hamildad?” You ran out of the room, trying to hold in your laughter. That was so good! High five me! You ran down the hall and into the main room. You immediately noticed all the children running down the stairs. “Whoa, slow down guys! Where’s the fire?” Honestly with AJ’s track record, that was a literally possibility. Angie, AJ, Jamie and Johnny all jumped off the last step but Jamie was the only one to stop and answer your question.

“He’s here! He’s here!” He said excitedly before running into the center of the room. Who’s here? Suddenly you heard the sound of a carriage stopping outside, Angie stopped you from going over to the door to greet the guest.

“Not a wise decision.” What’s going on? It wasn’t any more than a few seconds before you heard booming footsteps from outside the door. Is our visitor a tree?! The next thing you know the door is flung open and you see an extremely tall man jumping through the doorway. His skin was very dark, his clothes an equally dark color however in a shade of blue. He was quite broad and you couldn’t see his hair because he was wearing a beanie.

“HERCULES MULLIGAN!” The man shouted as he landed. The children all shouted and ran towards the man.

“Uncle Herc! Uncle Herc!” They all shouted. Wait… Hercules… Mulligan… A TAILOR SPYING ON THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT?! Mulligan picked Angie up by her sides and spun her around in a circle.

“How is my angel fairing? Those boys better not be bothering you or else they’ll have to hear from me!” He shouted. Angie giggled and shook her head.

“Boys are gross Uncle Herc!” She responded, Mulligan had the widest smile on his face from her response.

“That is exactly what I was hoping to hear! Never trust us men!” He joked. Philip came trotting down the stairs and spoke up as he approached Mulligan.

“Ah, Uncle Hercules! I have not seen you in ages!” He walked toward Mulligan and gave him only what you could describe as a bro hug. Was that a thing back in 1797? Well they just did it so I guess it was! Philip then looked over at you. “And this is Y/N Taylor, she is-“ AJ cut him off.

“She’s our maid, she’s really nice!” AJ chuckled. Mulligan approached you and held out his hand, sensing the que you gave him yours. He gave your hand a quick peck before straightening his posture and smiling down at you.

“A pleasure to meet you Y/N!” He exclaimed before staring at you silently, almost like he was examining your face. What? What’s he doing.

“Uh, h-hello, nice to meet you?” He nodded his head, like he had just made a decision.

“That’s it. I’m taking her.” He stated simply. Excuse me?! AJ, Jamie and Johnny all came running up behind him.

“No! You can’t take her! She’s our maid!” AJ laughed. I’m so confused! Mulligan shook his head.

“Nope, you can’t change my mind. She’s mine now!” Without any warning Mulligan picked up by the waist and threw you over his shoulder. What the hell is going on?!  Mulligan then proceeded to run around the room with long strides as the children giggled and chased after him. This caused you to bounce up and down on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but laugh at the scenario.

“What in the world are you all doing?” You asked through your giggle fit.

“I see that Titania is getting acquainted with Mulligan!” You caught a glimpse of Alex standing the archway between the hall and the main room. Mulligan quickly halted, lifted you off his shoulder and set you down gracefully. Your hair however was a total disaster; it took you a second to smooth everything back down to normal. Alex and Mulligan walked towards each other with shit eating grins and also engaging in the bro hug. Wow, that’s really popular isn’t it?

“Great to see you again Hamilton!” Hercules exclaimed.

“Like wise Mulligan!” You heard footsteps coming through the still opened door. You turned your gaze towards it and caught site of another man carrying a couple of bags. He was still tall but significantly shorter than Mulligan. His skin was closer to a mocha color, his hair was wavy and cut very short. His clothes perplexed you for a second, they weren’t shabby but seemed oddly casual for the time period. Mulligan turned to him.

“Oh sorry my boy! Didn’t mean to leave you out there, I was just excited to see everyone! Let me get that!” Mulligan jogged over to the man and grabbed two of three bags he was holding.

“It’s not a problem Hercules, I do not mind helping.” He responded, Alex smiled and waved at the man.

“How are you fairing Cato?” He asked.

“Very good, Mr. Hamilton.” He answered.

Wait…Cato?!