#yes aaron burr he's mentioned in here

[grlsbstshot]

Join us for the next chapter of NEON LIGHTS premiering sat.

Catch up on the previous chapters here. Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition // Chapter III

James Lucas sits down with Reese Lane of RHYTHM Magazine! Hear all about life, love, and his upcoming third album -- promisingly titled Painted -- during this exclusive interview!

When he won a Grammy before the age of twenty, James Lucas – born Jameson Lucas to music legend, Anaïs Lucas – knew he was in trouble. He says his ego has always been an issue and didn’t improve.

“I caught myself thinking shit that should have never crossed my mind. That I didn’t need to keep improving. That I was already the greatest. I immediately started chasing gold. It was a high. But I wasn't ready for it...and deep down, I knew that."

He would choose to continue at Howard University, graduating at 21. Instead of returning to Los Angeles, Lucas moved to New York and in four short years, built a stage career -- a departure from his music dreams. 

He led a few off-broadway shows before hearing about one particular musical: Alexander H. He would be cast in the role of Aaron Burr but according to Lucas, he had a much more fortuitous thing happen to him – meeting his music collaborator, producer and songwriter, Ellington Dupree.

“He’s my best friend. I don’t know of anybody who understands music better than he does. He makes me better. And he’s the reason I found my sound. I stopped cosplaying as Ginuwine and Joe. I found me because I wanted to be as good as EJ.”

You know the story from here…Tony award. Grammy award. Moving back to LA to work on his second album with Dupree and then? Massive success with his second album -- titled 2506. Named for his age and month of birth, Lucas found himself exploring different kinds of r&b with an all new production -- provided by Ellington Dupree.

“Everything blew up. It was all a blur when we released 2506. Six Grammy noms, two wins. I didn’t even take the time to soak the moment in. My life had changed and I was just trying to keep up.”

His life changed in other ways on Grammy night. It was the first time he met his on-off partner, singer Imani St. Cirie. The two would go on to embark on a very public relationship for the next two and a half years before abruptly breaking up in early 2023.

The mention of her makes Lucas lapse into silence for the first time in almost an hour of conversation. Despite the rumblings of reuniting, neither star has spoken about the other. Even the reasons for their breakup are closely held secrets – unless you listen between the lyrics.

Reese Lane: Do you not like talking about her? James Lucas: I could talk about Mani all day. But I mean – we were together but now we're not. Reese Lane: And the Instagram situation? James Lucas: ...Do you listen to my music? RL: Yes. Often. JL: Then you understand me and Imani. You get that we're...complicated. RL: Is that what you want? JL: I want her. So...if she calls, I go running. If I call, she comes running. That’s what it means to be complicated as f*ck. It'll always be that way. I don't care who she moves on to – it'll always be me for her. And that's not ego. It's the truth.

And just as he says, there's an understanding of their relationship in the lines of almost every track. Lucas has never confirmed which songs are inspired by his personal life. But songs filled with lost love, longing, and frenzied sex paint the picture of a chaotic romantic life. I tell him so and Lucas laughs...long and loud before agreeing. He relaxes somewhat before escorting me back inside the suite, his new home while he films several films in New York.

Jameson and I enjoy a drink (or several), order pizza, and settle in for another round of questions. He's even more open than before. I ask him to tell me about his next album and he does one better -- he pulls out his phone and plays three tracks. Back to back. Without explanation or asking my thoughts. He says the album isn't done but from what i heard, it's pretty damn close to being that.

The first track he played was a smooth yet assertively playful croon about his love for someone who seems to not be paying him much attention in return. The next is a beautiful ode to a woman he seems to be encouraging to be happy. The last was completed recently he says -- two days ago, in fact -- and it's a moody deconstruction of...himself, his ego, and the way he treated another nameless woman.

I playfully ask if those tracks about his life and Lucas surprises me by answering with a nod. I push my luck and ask again if they were all about one woman. Lucas grins and shakes his head that time, confirming what i've long suspected -- chaotic.

RL: Why is your love life like...that? JL: I don't know. I mean...I kind of do it to myself. I love hard. I love foolishly. RL: So you've been in love a lot? JL: No. RL: Do you believe in having a soulmate? JL: I do. I suspect I have one. RL: Is at least one of those about her? JL: ...Yes. RL: Imani? JL: You keep asking me about her. RL: You two intrigue me. JL: Why? (laughs) We do what everyone else does. We fuck, we fight, we love each other, we hate each other. We get it right and we get it wrong. It's just love. RL: So why be apart? JL: Ask her. She may tell you. RL: I will. Tell me which one is about her. JL: The first. And the last. RL: Which one was the second one about? JL: A friend. I'm actually supposed to meet her at the MOMA in an hour. (smiles) I like you. You don't let me get away with shit. You remind me of another friend. RL: The same one you're meeting today? JL: No. Genie. She's practically my sister. RL: Genie Adesanya? Well, thank you. I'm flattered. You two are still close after the breakup of your parents? JL: I still annoy her just as much. She's my sister. Whether or parents got married or not. She probably wouldn't agree though.

Once again, I'm surprised that he answers so openly. If his publicist was sitting in the room, they might tackle me and throw me out...but Lucas breezes through each question, more honest than anyone would expect him to be. 

"I don't have any shame." he says when I ask why he tells me so much. "I put everything in my music. Why lie? It's all in the music." He's nonchalant as he brushes his hand over his head -- the trademark cornrows he's sported since he burst onto the scene at the age of 19 gone. I ask him about his hair and he gives me a sheepish grin before saying it was for a project but I doubt it.

RL: When do you think the new album will be ready? JL: Soon. I usually finish music way before it's released. I'm just...all over the place right now. RL: Rumors about you appearing in your first film are circling. Plus this upcoming album. How are you juggling it all? Jameson Lucas: Actor & Singer. JL: With a whole lot of prayer. (laughs) I don't know. I will always think of myself as a musician before anything else. I went to school for it, I worked my ass off for that title. I'll never just be a singer. I'm a musician. Everything else is secondary.

By the time we wrap up our conversation, I understand why Jameson Lucas has so many admirers. It isn't just the fact that he's handsome or the fact that he's incredibly charming. Not even the fact that he's tall, can sing like a prince, or that flash of gold you see covering his teeth when he speaks -- it's that he's an open book. Even when you know you shouldn't fall under his spell, you do. And he makes it very appealing to be there.

When he gives you that lazy grin with those blue-green-hazel color eyes while laying across a couch -- the image of virile relaxation -- you can only think of one thing. There's a cockiness about Jameson but isn't overbearing or unappealing. It's the right amount of (in his words) essence. Even when he's crooning about how to teach you 'correction', you can't find it in yourself to hate him. He makes you want it.

Jameson walked me to the door of his suite, holding it open for me as I left -- and insisted on walking down to the lobby with me. He's dressed casually but draws looks all the way down, his long legged stride tempered by the fact that I'm wearing heels and he doesn't want to leave me behind. We part ways outside his hotel -- with an offer to interview him again once the album is out. I take up on it, we exchange contact information, and then he's off. He doesn't slide into a black car and roll the window up. He simply heads off down the street, towards the subway. On his way to a dreamy museum date with some very lucky friend.

[taxmacabre]

Chernow: A Bad Historian?

Though better historians/researchers than myself have posted aplenty on the speculative nonsense Ron Chernow gets up to in his biographies, he sometimes still gets praise for his work. Yes, sure, he's bad at his conclusions, but he's a good historian.

Right?

I would argue, no. Not even close.

His sources seem extensive, and can certainly serve as a jumping board for the budding historian - but he cannot be trusted. Even his sources are sometimes either lied about (directly or through subterfuge), edited, or plain untrue. Let me take two pages as an example in his biography of Alexander Hamilton, page 74-75.

Midway through the first page, he states,

"Hamilton had already informed his distant St. Croix readers, "This city is at present evacuated by above one half of its inhabitants under the influence of a general panic.""

He then gives a source - a source, however, which has not proven to be Hamilton at all. This is a similar mistake he made on p.68, 69 and 72 (that he drew wild assumptions about Hamilton's disposition and opinions on, unsubstantiated as his source is dubious). It wouldn't be this harmful of a thing to do, if the exact same source which he blatantly pretends must be Hamilton, just because it was printed in the Royal Danish Gazette, addressed from an anonymous New York soldier, wasn't used again and again and again.

Michael Newton does a better job than I do in proving that these were not, in fact, written by Hamilton. In his book (Alexander Hamilton: The Formative Years, Ch.13), he explains that the anonymous letter attributed to Hamilton by Chernow had been published previously in London newspapers, and just reprinted for the Danish Gazette. Chernow's entire argument for why it obviously must be H, falls through.

Then, Chernow states that in April 1776 (where the current narrative of the book is at) that Washington stayed at a Hudson River mansion called Richmond Hill. Fair enough. But then follows a wild assumption; that Burr visited Washington in that house, quit it in disgust, and wrote this letter (this is the one Chernow cites here!) - a letter which was written more than a full year later, and has no mention or reference to Burr visiting him at Headquarters.

We do know that Burr was appointed aide-de-camp of Genl Putnam on June 22, 1776, as seen in this General Order. He later joins Col. William Malcom's regiment, as seen here. This appointment is what the above letter was in reference to - not, as Chernow assumes, about Burr potentially meeting Washington in New York.

Not only that, but Chernow continues,

"Something about Aaron Burr - his penchant for intrigue, a lack of sufficient deference, perhaps his insatiable chasing after women - grated on George Washington."

What? Where does he get any of this information? From the fact that this letter - the same letter that happens a year after Chernow alleges it took place - went unanswered? As usual, this speculative nonsense goes unsourced. Chernow wants Burr to be the antithesis of Hamilton, the villain of this sordid tale - and he is willing to make up facts and bend the truth to make this happen.

[If anyone can find the source for Burr's supposed few week sojourn at Washington's headquarters as ADC and subsequent firing by the Genl, please, let me know. I can find plenty of other sites and books repeating this, but no source is ever given.]

At the top of page 75, he mentions (assuredly) that in June, 1776;

"Hamilton gallantly led a nighttime attack of one hundred men against the Sandy Hook lighthouse outside New York harbor."

No one but Chernow has ever asserted that Hamilton led this attack. Neither Hamilton himself nor any of his contemporaries mention his involvement, let alone his leadership.

Instead, this attack was led by Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Tupper. (Who, a year prior, had already led a mission against this same lighthouse). He wrote what happened after the attack on the lighthouse to Washington on June 21st,

"I advanced within 150 yards of the light-house in so secret a manner that my party was undiscovered, I advanced with an officer and desired to speak with the commanding officer, and after a few words he fired several shots at me, but as God would have it, he mist me. I returned to my party and ordered the artillery to play, which continued for about an hour, but found the walls so thick as to make no impression."

Here's some more information on this.

Yes, he sources a great many things - but clearly, that does not make it a reliable piece of work. And remind you - this is barely 1,5 page of closer scrutiny.

So, sure, read his work, as his is one of the few complete cradle-to-grave biographies out there on the subject (for now). But oh god, be careful. Don't trust a thing coming out of this man's mouth. Don't trust the Pulitzer he won. Do your homework, and stay vigilant.

[leave-alighton]

Time for a segment I should find a better name for: Songs That I No Longer Feel Like Pretending Aren't Good Just Because of Public Opinion.

Get your eye rolling out of the way now because I'm talking about Wait For It from the Hamilton soundtrack.

Yeah, yeah. Hamilton. You don't like musicals, Why is it about the founding fathers?, Lin Manuel Miranda is overrated, Um Actually it's Historically Inaccurate Because- shut the fuck up. Get out of here with your shallow, uninspired, freezerburnt takes. I guess in order to get to the meat of this song, I have to spell out the point of Hamilton. Spoiler alert, it's not about the founding fathers. On the surface, yes, it presents a paraphrased version of the independence of the United States of America. But if you go a modicum deeper, think a pinch more critically, it's about destiny, love, conviction, and all the complications that come with. The founding fathers are simply a vehicle for LMM's vision. Once you allow yourself to accept that the characters share the names of historical figures, you might be able to enjoy the art and talent that has come out of this show.

Take, for example, Wait For It. Sung originally by Leslie Odom Jr., who plays Aaron Burr, it's the 13th song on the soundtrack and one of my top favourites in the show. We'll start off easy and take a look at the lyrics, since they're basically LMM's personal play-doh. The first chorus:

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway. We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes. And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it.

And the second:

Death doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and we break And we make our mistakes. And if there's a reason I'm still alive When everyone who loves me has died I'm willing to wait for it.

I mean come on. Stripping away the context, looking at just this, it's perfect. It's poetry, the side-to-side comparison of love and death and the similarities and differences. The faith and optimism he has (which is made all the more moving when you know how serious and cautious the character is), the emotion in "it takes and it takes and it takes" that I know everyone feels in their heart, not to mention the clever act of changing the chorus to draw more attention to the main theme of the song itself (because i can admit that LMMs songs are famously, Very Wordy)- already I am absolutely taken.

I can absolutely go on about the remaining lyrics, and how LMM is able to deliver important points of the story without just, telling the audience what's happening to a generic melody. He drives home ideas that progress the story- even occasionally sprinkling in points where he does straight up tell the audience what's happening, but using it as a literary device or accent to break up what are dynamic, almost Rhapsody-like pieces of music.

Like most of the pieces in the show, this song has a unique, identifiable, consistent rhythm and chord progression. Just listen to the first couple seconds- that's the Wait for it rhythm. Most of the rest of the soundtrack has their own 'trademark' as well- each song set apart from the other. You'll be back, Helpless, and Non-Stop are all incredibly unique pieces, and are only a few of 46 in the whole soundtrack. Wait for it, while unique, also falls back on its roots as a, well, broadway musical song by utilizing backing vocals- which overlap and harmonize beautifully when they need to emphasize and drive home a theme or just swell with the music in order to give that cresendo a bit of oomph.

In the end, it's still a Musical. As much as I don't understand it, not everyone likes musicals (who hurt you?). It's still part of the genre, as unique as it is. And, occasionally it can be hard for someone to separate the stigmatized context from what truly is, a fucking banger.

[crown-of-roses-thsc]

How did you created CoR? Did you ever have any idea about this au that you discarded? If yes can you tell us? I really would like to hear!

Also, do you have new other au from another fandom? I really wish to check since you do such a good job creating this here that I also wanna to see more of your own works!

HEHEHE~ oh, prepare to learn some very silly things!

I don’t know if I’ve shared this before, but the story behind Crown of Roses delights me to this day. I was a young soul, obsessed with Henry Stickmin, and had taken it upon myself to come up with the funniest possible character to ship Ellie with. Mind you, I wasn’t a Henry Stickmin nerd yet, so I didn’t know many of the background characters.

It suddenly dawned on me that it would be absolutely hilarious to ship Ellie with Reginald…two characters who would hate each others guts if they’d ever met in any significant way in canon.

At the time, I was also blasting “Satisfied” from Hamilton- and in my head, I formulated this little story following the Toppat King ending, where Ellie and Reginald had been in love long ago, but Ellie was with Henry now- and she had to abandon her love for Reginald because she didn’t want to hurt poor Henry. I was an angsty teenager with a love for mellowdrama, so I thought this idea was delightful.

As time went on, I played more and more with the idea of Ellie and Reginald being exes- and came up with the possibility that perhaps Ellie was briefly leader before Reginald viciously betrayed her and took the role for himself. At first, I wanted to consider this a fan-theory, and scoured the game for any hint that it could be true (I actually think I still have a crappy google doc full of “evidence” for it, haha!), but I eventually had to concede that it was highly improbable.

I actually didn’t discover the scrapped side-game for Ellie until later on, so imagine my THRILL when I discovered that. I took quite a few aspects from it, since the differences between the ideas were almost entirely better on the scrapped side-game’s part.

The story was originally just that, until I discovered the song RÄT by Penelope Scott…and began to imagine a continuation of the betrayal story based around the song. (The ideas that came from this can be seen in THIS animatic, which is actually what “blew up” this AU!) From there I returned to the Toppat King idea, and that grew into…well, I guess you’ll have to see ;)

And oh, so many ideas from this AU had to be discarded (or were altered into things I preferred!)

Originally, Reginald was written to be more cold-and-calculating, with a bit of care for Ellie that was entirely drowned out by his thirst for power. Now he’s become my pathetic wet-cat, who makes mistakes more out of fear than any malicious intent. It makes a bit of sense, as my characterization of him is based strongly off of Aaron Burr (as portrayed in the musical Hamilton.)

That’s the least interesting one, though.

For example:

In this AU, Earrings is Sven’s sister! But originally, in the Toppat King ending, she was going to be the villain- wanting to kill Sven in revenge for…well, you’ll find out in two chapters! But here’s the kicker: I had her being haunted by Randy! His characterization was similar to how I portray him now, just a little more evil- the inspiration from Beetlejuice: The Musical was much, much stronger!

I’ve mentioned “scrapped endings” many times, so I won’t bore you all with that again- but a stranger aspect is that I originally had all of them being canon, and a reveal that Crown of Roses was an actual alternate universe to the main game; Henry had briefly decided to lend Ellie his multiverse powers, and so the world shifted to focus more on her- and she got to experience many endings before ultimately being able to get to a world where Reginald didn’t betray her, and the audience was left to imagine what different endings would look like from there once things were focused back on Henry! Like, Infiltrating the Airship with Ellie in charge…a neat thought, in my opinion!

On a darker note, Suave and Jessica’s relationship initially had much…darker implications. The emotional abuse remains canon, as well as implications of potential physical abuse, but…let’s just say that I briefly toyed with the idea that Suave had grown to abuse her in another way, too. I never planned on explicitly mentioning or showing it, so one could argue that it wasn’t scrapped- but I decided not to really go that far. I have no intentions of confirming or denying it as a possibility, but I wanted to back off of the subject.

On a lighter note, Ellie’s rogue-gang originally included Stu Pendles, a man whose voice claim was TheOdd1sOut and was in gambling debt to Carol. I actually think I originally had intentions of shipping them, too!

Wilting Darkrose was also originally meant to be a parody of emo edgelord characters, hence his goth appearance and edgy name- but I lost confidence in my ability to satirize that well, and grew attached to the idea of a character who saw himself as an important noble leader but was actually a college student with too much hair-dye. (Bonus fun fact!: Ed Zhaust is named that because it’s meant to sound like “exhaust(ed)”- which is what he is.)

Ho ho ho, what a ramble that was! As for the second part of your question:

I’ve worked on a few! I like to imagine Warrior Cats AUs, but I never do much with those. I usually focus on my own stories (I’m making progress in a book I’ve wanted to write for quite some time!) buuut I do have some published stuff!

For example, I’m the director of Wordgirl: Rewired! It was originally meant to be a fan-comic, but now we have two fully illustrated and voice acted episodes of an aged-up Wordgirl series! It’s mostly meant to be a continuation, but due to some slight changes to certain characters one could argue it’s an AU!

I also wrote a fan fiction called “The Night The Moons Collapsed” for Wings of Fire. I never finished it, but I do plan to rewrite it eventually! I’d been reading too many My Little Pony Infection AUs at the time, haha!

Any other things would likely be in my Ao3, and from there it’s mostly Wordgirl stuffs!

[unravelingthepages]

Hamilton- a review and a shoutout to my current favorite musical

hi! just got done with my mid-semester exams this week and thought I would start by recommending a musical I absolutely loved (yes I’ve been on a musical kick, I blame my cousin).

Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda is musical comprising of AMAZING soundtracks that I re-listen entirely every couple of days (I wish I was kidding) with the music spanning over genres of hip-hop, rap, musical theatre and more.

Just a note before I go into more about why I loved it- this is not a play made with the intention of depicting history. Yes, it draws from historical events and has historical figures as the main characters but the fact remains that it is a musical, and not intended to have a political message glorifying things like slavery. I will say that it while it does not forgoe looking at the themes of feminism and slavery and does have references to them, it in no way focuses on them and therefore might have the unintended consequence of glorifying figures like Thomas Jefferson and George Washington who owned slaves and such. If you plan on watching this musical, do go into it with this information.

About the musical

Hamilton is the epic saga that follows the rise of Founding Father Alexander Hamilton as he fights for honour, love, and a legacy that would shape the course of a nation. It is based on Ron Chernow’s acclaimed biography and has the themes of romance, honour, war, revolutions, adultery, politics and more.

Why I loved it

Did I mention I absolutely ADORED the songs? Because I'm obsessed with each and every one of them. The way you can read into them and how each song can be seen as a build-up for the next and how later songs reference lines from the earlier songs- it's frankly amazing and so cool.

Speaking of the songs, I loved that this was essentially just music and continuous beats. The conversations followed a pattern and more often than not, ended up being part of the songtrack itself. While I do love musicals that have songs and then periods of just dialogue in-between where 'the plot thickens' (imagine with the hand gesturing and air of mystery, please tell me someone knows what I'm talking about); all the plot advancing needed in Hamilton is mainly included in the tracks (hell, an entire Cabinet debate is a rap battle) and I adore this form of storytelling. It's also another reason I love re-listening to all the songs, since I know exactly what part of the musical it's from and what's going on in that number.

Moving on to the characters- I loved that none of them were glorified but still given human qualities such you can find them tolerable and want to listen to what they are saying. That's not to say I like most of them as historical figures (I decidedly do not). But they were all so distinct here- in their personalities, their style of talking, their general demeanor and more- that it played a large part in how their contasting characters fit into the story so seamlessly. A huge shoutout to the cast for that, I absolutely loved how they embodied their characters.

Let me end with saying the way the story is written and portrayed is incredible. It goes in a linear timeline and have so many cool elements to it that you can't take your eyes away from the scene. There are so many different ways to look at every scene and… well, I could go on but it's safe to say I'm in love with this musical. (My favorite songs are Wait For It and Burn and my favorite scene has to be the whole rewind scene with Angelica Schuylur and the characters of Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr and King George III HAVE to be my favorite because I honestly laughed out loud every time I saw some of their expressions and the lines that went with them.)

All-in-all, I recommend watching this musical with all my heart! I loved it and would a thousand percent rate it 5 stars.

[shmegmilton]

Could you do something about how Theo's death changed Burr? You said that her death 'permanently changed Burr’s demeanor' and I can't find much about Burr's later years so I wondered if you could explain it to me. Thank you.

      Yeah, that sounds about right. A lot of the info we know about Burr in the last 20ish years of his life (after returning from Europe, so 1812-1836) has sort of been haphazardly cobbled together by historians, so you only really get a ‘clear’ picture across multiple Burr biographies. We know that he continued to practice law in New York, but most of the supplementary information we have comes from other people; first-hand accounts by friends, newspaper articles, anecdotes, etc. 
Burr himself was obscenely quiet during this time period, partly (I assume) to lay low from debt collectors & people who want to chastise him for being the evil mastermind who shot Hamilton in cold blood or whatever. And partly because he was depressed for a very long time, it seems.

    The first thing that should be noted is Theo’s death came about 6 months after her son (& Burr’s grandson) Aaron Burr Alston, who he was also very attached to & called him Gampy (Burr’s nickname was Gamp so he was Gampy ie. Little Gamp). Gampy’s death effected Burr in an entirely different way, because every instance we have of Burr interacting with children was largely positive—he loved children. After Gampy’s death he seemed to go out of his way to be kind to children & to spoil them with all of the treats and gifts he never got to give Gampy. Something extra sad to note is that he loved to give little coins to children (either out of his own pocket or a pot on his desk), and one of the gifts he had been stockpiling for Gampy was coins…

Now for Theo, I haven’t been able to find any of Burr’s letters to her during this time (I’m not sure if they even survived), but we know that he tried his best to console her & convinced her to be with him in New York. It took about 6 months for her to finally say yes, so he ordered a ship (The Patriot) & a family friend named Timothy Green (who also died on the ship) to escort her from SC to NY. They of course never made it be NY, and to this day not only do we not know what happened to the ship, but we literally don’t even know where the shipwreck is other than its probably somewhere off the coast of North Carolina. There were some theories about a possibly pirate attack (The Patriot was a former privateer ship) but Burr choose not to believe it.

Burr & Joseph Alston (her husband) took up a correspondence during this time (strangely, we have some of Alston’s letters but none of Burr’s seem to have been found) where they confided to each other about their worries. Alston makes a very poignant implication during one of the surviving letters where he says that Burr must feel “severed from the human race.”

Theo wasn’t just Burr’s daughter—she was his only child to survive to adulthood, and one of his closest political & social allies, considering that the majority of the country now hated Burr for the 1804 Duel and the 1807 Conspiracy. She was really all he had for comfort, & Burr constantly mentions how much he misses her (& Gampy) in his European Journal. I can only imagine how devastated he was.

Another note, Charles Burdett (Burr’s adopted son who I’ll talk about in a moment) published a book with some of Burr’s old letters (that he must have been personally given, because I haven’t seen them published anywhere else.) One letter was written during this time period to a woman named “Kate” & he basically admits being too depressed to reply to people.

Burr also allegedly spent weeks or even months visiting the docks every day with the hope that The Patriot might be there. The death of his daughter gained Burr a bit more public sympathy, but the attention was still largely negative. People treated him like a cryptid almost. Not just because he was notorious, but because he was so socially withdrawn that it was rare to see him in public.

—

In 1878, Charles Burr Todd wrote A General History of the Burr Family in America (with Genealogical Records from 1570 to 1878). It’s a handy book with some unique information about Burr that I have yet to see in any other biographies, including a full physical description of what Burr looked & sounded like in his later years ([HERE]), and an interesting essay that Judge John Greenwood, who worked under Burr as a clerk from 1814-1820, presented to the Manhattan Historical Society after Burr’s death ([HERE]).

The Greenwood essay mentions that Burr owned a cat, which he definitely did not own during his 4 years in Europe as there was no mention of it. This implies to me that he purchased and/or adopted it because he was lonely, because there is no other account of Burr owning a pet of any kind before or after this.

Burr also adopted two children around this time, Charles Burdett & Aaron Columbus Burr (Aaron Burr Colombe). ACB is a strange case because, despite having a very public adult life—no one can seem to agree if he was French or American? Or who his mother was? Or his birth year? Some sources say 1808 and others say 1816? It’s bizarre. People also can’t seem to agree whether Charles Burdett was born in 1814 or 1815. There is also a third child (Henry Oscar Taylor, born 1818) who is documented having lived with Burr by 1833.

All of these boys are a mystery because no birth or adoption certificate exists (did they even have those back then?) so it’s unclear where they came from, who their mothers were, or at what point they came into Burr’s life—Burr’s movement & the timelines of their birth make it a bit too hard to say for sure. My personal theory is that (regardless if they were biologically his or not) Burr chose to take these children in to try and alleviate his own loneliness.

One last thing of note about Burr’s later life is that in 1823 he chose to take in Luther Martin (the lawyer who argued his 1807 case), who had recently had a stroke and had nowhere to live. He took care of him until he passed away in Burr’s home in 1827.

Burr would of course die a little less than 10 years after that (the majority of it spent fighting his divorce & dealing with his own strokes). I wish I could write more about this time period, but that is truly all we know about it.

I guess the key takeaway from this is Burr ultimately devoted a lot of his time to charity work & helping others, most likely as a way to deal with grief or find meaning in his life again.

[sudoki-sara]

Decided on yes I will make more rwby Hamilton au. These Hamilton songs are Aaron burr sir and my shot

Citizens: 1776. Feldspar City.

Jaune: Pardon me. Are you Ruby Rose ma’am?

Ruby: That depends. Who’s asking?

Jaune: Oh, well, sure, ma’am. I’m Jaune Arc I’m at you service, ma’am. I have been looking for you.

Ruby: I’m getting nervous.

Jaune: Ma’am... I heard your name at Coquina. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punch him. It’s a blur, ma’am. He handle the financials?

Ruby: You punched the bursar.

Jaune: Yes! I wanted to do what you did. Graduate in two, then join the revaluation. He looked at me like I was stupid. I’m not stupid so how’d you do it? How’d you graduate so fast?

Ruby: It was my mother’s dying wish before she passed.

Jaune: You’re an orphan. Of course I’m an orphan god, I wish there was a war! Then we could prove that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for...

Ruby: Can I buy you a drink?

Jaune: That would be nice.

Ruby: While we’re talking. Let me offer you some free advice talk less.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: Smile more.

Jaune: Ha.

Ruby: Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.

Jaune: You can’t be serious.

Ruby: You wanna get ahead?

Jaune: Yes.

Ruby: Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.

Weiss: Yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it?

Weiss/Ren/Nora: Show time!

Ruby: Like I said.

Weiss: Show time show time! I’m Weiss Schnee in the place to be! Two pints of O’ Sam Adams but I’m working on three, uh! Those Redcoats don’t want it with me! Cuz I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I’m free!

Ren: Oui oui, mon ami, je mappelle Lie Ren! The Lancelot of the revolutionary set! I came from afar just to say bonsoir! Tell the king “Casse toi! Who’s the best cest moi!”

Nora: Brrrah brraaah! I am Nora Valkyrie up in it, lovin it, yes I heard your mother say “come again.”

Ren/Weiss: Ayyyy

Nora: Lock up ya daughters and horses. Of course it’s hard to have intercourses over four sets of corsets...

Ren: wow

Weiss: No more sex, pour me another brew, son! Let’s raise a couple more...

Weiss/Nora/Ren: To the revolution!

Weiss: Well if it ain’t the prodigy of Beacon Academy.

Nora: Ruby Rose!

Weiss: Give us a verse. Drop some knowledge!

Ruby: Good luck with that. You’re takin’ a stand you spit Imma sit we’ll see where we land.

Nora/Ren: Booo

Weiss: Ruby, the revolution is imminent. What do you stall for?

Jaune: If you stand for nothing, Ruby, what’ll you fall for?

Ren/Nora/Weiss: Ooh, who you? Who you? Who are you? Ooh, who is this kid? What’s he gonna do?

I was gonna end it here but then I remembered how “My Shot” continues this song so...

Jaune: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my crountry young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

Jaune: Imma get a scholarship to Shade Academy I prob’ly shouldn’t brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish. The problem is I got a lot of brains but no polish. I gotta holler just to be heard. With every word, I drop knowledge.

Jaune: I’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal. Tryin’ to reach my goal. My power of speech: unimpeachable. Only nineteen but my mind is older. These Feldspar city streets get colder, I shoulder.

Jaune: Ev’ry burden, ev’ry disadvantage. I have learned to manage, I don’t have a gun to brandish. I walk these streets famished.

Jaune: The plan is to fan this spark into a flame. But damn, it’s getting dark, so let me spell out the name I am the—

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss/ J-A-U-N-E-A-R-C— We are—meant to be...

Jaune: A colony that runs independently. Meanwhile, Atlas Keeps shittin on us endlessly. Essentially, they tax us relentlessly. Then General James turns around, runs a spending spree. He ain’t ever gonna set his descendants free. So there will be a revolution in this century. Enter me!

Ren/Nora/Weiss: He says in parenthesis.

Jaune: Don’t be shocked when your Hist’ry book mentions me. I will lay down my life if it sets us free. Eventually you’ll see my ascendancy.

Jaune: And I am not throwing away my shot!

Weiss: My shot!

Jaune: I am not throwing away my shot!

Weiss: My shot!

Jaune: Hey yo, I’m just like my country. I’m young, scrappy, and hungry. And I’m not throwing away my shot!

Ren/Nora/Weiss: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot! It’s time to take a shot!

Ren: I dream of life without a monarchy. The unrest in Vale will lead to ‘onarchy? ‘Onarchy? How you say, how you say, ‘anarchy? When I fight I make the other side panicky. With my—

All four: SHOT!

Nora: Yo, I’m a tailors apprentice. And I got y’all knuckleheads in loco parentis. I’m joining the rebellion cuz I know it’s my chance. To socially advance, instead of sewin’ some pants! I’m gonna take a—

All four: SHOT!

Weiss: But we’ll never be truly free. Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me. You and I. Do or die. Wait till I sally in on a stallion with the first black battalion. Have another—

All four: SHOT!

Ruby: Geniuses, lower your voices. You keep out of trouble and you double your choices. I’m with you, but the situation is fraught. You’ve got to be carefully taught: if you talk your gonna get shot!

Jaune: Ruby, check what we got. Mister Lie Ren, hard rock like Lancelot I think your pants look hot. Weiss I like you a lot let’s hatch a plot blacker than the kettle callin’ the pot.

Jaune: What are the odds the gods would put us all in one spot. Poppin’ a squat on conventional wisdom, like it or not. A bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists? Give me a position, show me where the ammunition is!

Jaune: Oh, am I talking’ too loud? Sometimes I get overexcited, shout off at the mouth. I never had a group of friends before. I Promise that I’ll make y’all proud.

Weiss: Let’s get this guy in front of a crowd!

All four: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

All four: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

Weiss: Everybody sing:Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hey! Whoa! Wooh! Whoa! Aye let em hear ya! Let’s go!

Jaune/Ren/Nora: Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Yea!

Citizens: Woah! Woah! Woah! Woah! Woah! Yea!

Weiss: I said shout it to the rooftops! Said, to the rooftops! Come on! Come on let’s go!

Weiss: Rise up! When you’re living on your knees, you rise up! Tell your brother that he’s gotta rise up! Tell your sister that she’s gotta rise up!

Weiss/Citizens: When are these colonies gonna rise up?

Citizens: Whoa! Whoa!

Weiss/citizens: When are the colonies gonna rise up?

Citizens: Whoa!

Weiss/citizens: When are these colonies gonna rise up?

Citizens: Whoa!

Weiss/Citizens: When are these colonies gonna rise up? Rise up!

Jaune: I imagine death so much that it feels more like a memory. When’s it gonna get me? In my sleep? Seven feet ahead of me? If I see it comin’, do I run or do I let it be? Is it like a beat without a melody?

Jaune: See I never thought I’d live past twenty. Where I come from some get half as many. Ask anybody why we livin’ fast and we laugh, reach for a flask. We have to make this moment last, that’s plenty.

Jaune: Scratch that, this is not a moment, it’s the movement where all the hungriest brothers with something to prove went? Foes oppose us, we take an honest stand we roll like Moses, claimin’ our promised land.

Jaune: And? If we win our independence? Is that a guarantee of freedom for our descendants? Or will the blood we shed begin an endless cycle of vengeance and death with no defendant?

Jaune: I know the action in the street is excitin’ but Jesus, between all the bleedin’ and fightin’ I’ve been readin’ ‘n writin’ we need to handle our financial situation. Are we a nation of states? What’s the state of our nation?

Jaune: I’m past patiently waitin’. I’m passionately smashin’ every expectation every action’s an act of creation. I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow. For the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow!

Jaune/Citizens: And I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss: We’re gonna rise up! Time to take a shot! We’re gonna rise up! Time to take a shot!

Citizens: Not throwing away my shot! Not throwing away my shot!

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss: We’re gonna

Citizens: We’re gonna rise up rise up

Jaune: Time to take a shot.

Citizens: Rise up Rise up!

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss: Time to take a shot!

Citizens: Rise up!

JRNW: Time to take a shot!

Citizens: Rise up!

JNRW: Take a shot shot shot!

Citizens: Ri—ri—ri

JNRW: A-yo it’s time to take a shot! Time to take a shot! And I am— Not throwin’ away my—

Citizens: Time to take a shot! Time to take a shot! And I am— Not throwin’ away my shot!

[oklcmc]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹅ IN LIVING COLOUR. ﹅ [18+]

word count：5，897

pairing：aaron burr，jr. ❨leslie odom，jr.❩╱black!journalist!chorus substitute teacher!female oc ❨faith renée evans，circa 1995❩

forewarning：this imagine will contain use of drugs or alcohol，strong language and sexual content. read at your own discretion.

fun-size playlist：i. zapp ⅋ roger - i want to be your man，ii. guy - piece of my love，iii. braxton cook╱the fellas - that dress that i like ❨from the hulu original film bad hair❩，iv. faith evans - give it to me，v. faith evans - reasons，vi. faith evans - soon as i get home ， vii. stevie wonder - all i do，viii. faith evans - all this love，ix. faith evans - come over，x. swv - downtown，xi. stevie wonder - rocket love. yes，this is sequenced. ☺

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’ ⠀⠀⠀omg，can i start by apologizing in advance for my tardiness with this imagine here？ this was supposed to be written months ago，and probably prior to the one written about john laurens ❨anthony ramos❩，but an unfortunate turn of events took place with my father which caused me put all my writing on the back-burner. not that i had an actual plot for this imagine to begin with，and i’m a progressively slow writer anyway. i just knew that my favorite r⅋b songstress，faith evans would be the face claim and that it would be based on my favorite era before the 00′s，and that is the golden era! yes，the 90′s! that new jack motherfuckin’ swang! not to mention i’ve actually been taking the time out to watch some of my favorite classic films from that era or based on that era；boomerang ❨1992❩，bad hair ❨2020❩，mo’ better blues ❨1990❩ etc.，etc.，and these helped guide me as well. i started on this around the beginning of october，took a small hiatus and finally finished it off a couple days back. i’m so happy that i did because his role of burr ❨or leslie in general❩ really don’t get enough praise for me. i kind of like mashed their personalities into one person with this, but i tend to do that often. this imagine does have substance to it, but towards the ending it gets extremly... kinky，so just be sure to brace yourselves. i hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! happy readings!⠀⠀⠀‘’ ⠀⠀⠀

Newark，New Jersey · Sunday，May 21，1995

OMNISCIENT

⠀⠀⠀ℌad Aaron Burr, Jr. possessed the capability to read lips from the distance that he were standing at, the New Jersey Attorney General would’ve probably explained to any person generous enough to listen that the ordinary words slipping past the full and infamous Bronze Shimmer coated lips which could’ve only belonged to the reporter standing directly across the street from him were far more poetic than any novel he managed to read to himself in his youth, and you best believe there were more than what he could count on just one hand. He could only mention one being that the other, clammy as it were, was currently grasping onto a stack of political campaign brochures he still had tucked beneath his arm from earlier in the day.

He was fascinated by the way she commanded attention from her guests and vice versa. She’d bat her natural eyelashes which were almost always enhanced with several coats of mascara or she’d trade hands with the flagged microphone momentarily in order to tuck a stand of loose hair from her honey blonde half up/half down beehive updo behind her ear using her French manicure acrylics and just like that, any person was undivided.

The current climate surrounding them was quite spotty and her aura had still managed to refract like a visible spectrum, of course, he could’ve been literal in this subject when doing a once-over of her attire. There was a certain First Ladyesque lying within her posture that day. The long-sleeved faux suede and button-up blazer dress made with a wide waist belt and a bold cris-cross patterned sailor collar in mint, magenta, yellow, blue and red hues showcased just the right amount of thigh, cleavage and collar bone while her satin magenta high heel mules complimented her French pedicure just as much as her clip-on Chanel neon hologram logo drop earrings did her diamond angled face.

By the time Aaron could shake this state of infatuation with the young woman, she was wrapping up her segment with City Mayor Thomas Jefferson and instead indulging in a less important topic of discussion with him and her cameraman Percival whom also so happened to be her first cousin from the looks of it. Now would’ve been his ideal moment to intrude and propose her an offer she simply couldn’t refuse.

“Mayor Jefferson,” With the slightest bow to his superior, their laughter had subsided.

“General Burr,” Thomas greeted with just about no enthusiasm at all. “I wasn’t expecting to see your face this time of day. To what do I owe the honor?”

“Yeah, well I was just in the neighborhood doing some campaigning when I seen the satellite truck nearby. Thought I’d stop by and give a quick ‘Hello,’” Aaron greeted Percival with a simple wave in which he hadn’t minded exchanging back before beginning the process of loading his truck with equipment. “If you and Percival wouldn’t mind my asking, I’d like to have a word with Ms. Shaw alone, please.”

“Well I haven’t quite completed all my civil duties for the day,” Stated Thomas, gazing off into the distance where a small crowd of awaiting New Jersey citizens stood behind a barricade in their rain ponchos, umbrellas and newspapers even. “So I guess I’ll leave you to it. Best of luck on that early campaigning, you’re going to need it.”

“Why, thank you, sir!” Aaron grinned, not giving Thomas’ farewell much thought at all as he watched him swiftly turned on the heels of his loafers and began to approach the crowd of residents with a slight limp.

“She’s all yours, man.” Percival nudged his head in the direction of the passenger side to hint just were his older cousin were now located at while shutting the cargo doors closed.

“Thanks...” Aaron slowly nodded his head in appreciation to Percival’s gesture before quickly going to circle the van and being taken aback when seeing Phaedra bent over inside the van with one leg up, struggling to unload her heart-shaped patent leather Moschino brand handbag, transparent umbrella and manila file folders.

As if it could get any less skimpier, her current position had her dress rising past the cuff of her bare ass which caused his mouth to run dry and the zipper area of his tailored trousers to stiffen. He would’ve never had guessed a woman of her caliber to be so vulgar, and on the job at that. He had to clear his throat in order to gain his composure again.

“Need a hand?”

“Oh!” Phaedra gasped, landing on her own two before going to smooth out her dress. She was making herself so obvious. “Aaron, I had almost forgot that you were around,” She sighed out, shutting her eyes for a brief moment while she collected herself. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, yes, I could certainly use your hands with these folders.” She extended the brimming folders in his direction and he had no problem taking them into his arms right along with the stack of brochures. 

“Folders?” He glanced down before casually lurching upward to be sure the folders were secured in that position. “Check. Can I assist you with anything else, Ms. Shaw? C-Car ride, maybe? Mines is only a few blocks down from here.”

Now was the moment of truth.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Burr,” He watched as she skillfully pressed the pad of her thumb into the umbrella’s crook handle until the runner shot up the shaft and the ribs began to protectively overspread her. “Because so is my house. I’ll leave that up to you on whether or not you choose to walk with me although I feel as if you’ve spoiled me enough already.”

“Nonsense! I refuse to have you, as a woman, walking home alone in this kind of weather. Especially not in that kind of attire.”

“And just exactly what is wrong with my attire?” She scoffed with one hand placed on her hip.

“N-Nothing at all. I... Didn’t mean any harm by it, it’s just that I took notice to the silk mules on your feet. They look as if they might’ve cost you a pretty penny. Are you sure you’re willing to risk ruining them in all this rain?” Aaron risked few pellets of rain to the face just by glancing up at the dark stratocumulus clouds forming above their heads.

“$622 to be exact,” Phaedra smirked, admiring the eye candy that adorned her feet. “I admit that you have a pretty good eye for fashion, Aaron, but I think you should know that as much as I like these shoes, I love this type of weather more.”

With that being said, their journey home had begun. Aaron, being the gentleman he was, chose to walk closer to the curbside in case any accidental splashes from oncoming traffic were to occur while Phaedra walked in the center of the sidewalk with the umbrella hoisted above the both of them. Speaking of oncoming traffic splashes, Percival had just so happened to roll on by, tooting his horn when a new question arose from Aaron.

“May I make the suggestion of investing in a briefcase?”

“Why? are my folders getting too heavy for you, Aaron?” Phaedra emphasized with an eyebrow cocked.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I’m just looking out for your best interest. Wouldn’t want your papers getting water damage.”

“Is that so? ‘Cause all there is inside those folders are worksheets that have yet to be graded, lesson plans, future segment examples and unfinished lyrics to some songs I wrote.”

“I can help with that.” Aaron said as a matter-of-factly with his index finger pointed towards the sky.

“Suit yourself,” Phaedra rummaged through her handbag until coming in contact with a pack of Misty brand Rose 100′s and a matchbook. “Y’know, Aaron, you sure ask a lot of questions and always seem to rebuttal once challenged.” She temporarily trapped the umbrella’s handle under her arm before going to pull back the foil of the carton of cigarettes and gently giving the bottom a few encouraging taps with the heel of her palm until her desired stick slipped halfway from the box. She wrapped her stained lips around it’s filter before ripping a comb from the matchbook, dragging the igniter across the striker and setting the tobacco rod ablaze.

“I do not!” Aaron vindicated. “And that’s a nasty habit you have.”

“There you go again,” Phaedra muttered before pulling the cigarette away from her lips and allowing the smoke to do the same. “You think I don’t know that smoking’s bad for me? It’s my first today, so Aaron, would you please.”

“Alright, I won’t say anything else about your cancer sticks. I guess this means you won’t be attending school this evening?”

“Nope. I’m going home to enjoy a nice tall glass of wine over some Stevie Wonder until I fall into a drunken slumber,” Phaedra took another pull from her cigarette. “Speaking of school, how’s my star pupil, Theodosia liking school abroad so far?”

Aaron could’ve almost chuckled at the mention of his only daughter, knowing she was the origin of the two being acquainted to begin with.

Still adapting to his new home life as a widower and a single father of three for the past three years, Aaron had to admit to being somewhat unaware of how to go about the situation of his thirteen-year-old daughter abruptly coming from junior high school one evening with tears flooding the brim of her eyes due to her failing nine-week grade in chorus class by the new substitute teacher who went by “Ms. Shaw” and who Theodosia described as “callous” other than to setup an immediate mediation with the villain woman who was even so much as capable of hurting his baby girl’s feelings.

Aaron approached the situation totally blindsided, oblivious that he would be encountering the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on since his late wife. Soft-spoken, well-educated and a rhythm and blues enthusiast just as he had seen on his television screen on weekdays in the afternoon, surely, this couldn’t be the woman Theodosia was speaking of, but it indeed was and once explained, it was Theodosia’s outspoken attitude that put them all in that alignment (Thank God). Needless to say, they hit it off pretty well, Ms. Shaw and Theodosia’s bond grew stronger while her permanent chorus teacher was out on maternity leave as well as Ms. Shaw and Aaron’s. Theodosia’s grades saw massive growth as time progressed. Theodosia hadn’t seen her father so invested in the likings of another woman since her late mother and that kind of took some pressure off of her as well, so before she could set sail with boarding school, she made him vow to be confident enough to tell Ms. Shaw how he really felt about her. Weeks had since passed and he was still getting around to it.

“Quite well actually. She sends her regards in this week’s letter. How about Chyna?”

“Chyna is... Chyna. Busybody. She’s spending time with my grandparents, Mae and Bob for the week. God knows when they’ll bring her home.”

Their thirty-minute conversation that revolved around the subject of playing catch-up with each other’s lives led them straight under the drive-thru portico of Phaedra’s eggshell white stucco home alongside her white Mercedes-Benz C-Class where Phaedra was finally able to let down her umbrella and put an end to that the pungent fumes of that cigarette by carelessly flicking it onto the stamped concrete driveway and ashing it beneath the soles of her mules. She retrieved a break-away lanyard from her handbag that had her school photo I.D card, car and house keys attached to it before going to unlock the sandblasted front door. All that hoping and praying and Aaron could still hardly believe that this was finally happening.

“Upon entering I’m just gonna ask that you simply remove your shoes. I just got new carpet installed.”

“That’s no problem, Phae.”

With a twist of a knob, the intoxicating aroma of lavender scented potpourri and what was probably yesterday evening’s dinner of steak and baked potatoes immediately invaded their senses, causing their mouths to water. The exterior was really only a façade to what kind of craftsmanship Phaedra was concealing on the inside. The white polished and metallic epoxy floors of the entryway had a coating that resembled the inside of a strawberry sundae cup and a shimmering finish that carried on throughout the dining room, kitchen and even it’s curved countertops. Parts of the home that weren’t veiled in epoxy flooring were instead covered in wall-to-wall magenta carpet, that including the curved staircase that was painted in aquamarine cyan and pastel pink hues with steel railings and the living room with high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. The acrylic abstract sculptures and vases and the Jean-Michael Basquit, Keith Haring and Harlem Renaissance artwork all displayed throughout the residence set an ambience for Aaron that was nothing short of nostalgic.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒⠀⦂⠀* PHAEDRA’S⠀╱⠀crib.

He was immediately prepared to kick off his Converse and peel off his Winnie The Pooh varsity jacket and cannonball dive right into the conversation pit as if he were a teenager again, but first he had to find a safe place for those pamphlets and folders he was holding onto since God knows when, and the acrylic console table was looking lovely to him in that very moment. That and the current view of Phaedra bent over, slipping the mules from her dainty feet.

“You’ll have to excuse the toys,” Phaedra apologized, bending her knees to retrieve the wooden ABC/123 blocks and Fisher-Price brand corn popper playset. “It was a hassle tryna get Chyna out the door and to my grandparents on Monday morning. I haven’t had time to really clean this up with my schedule and all. It’s in and right back out.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Phaedra. I completely understand. Have you forgotten that I have three kids, woman?” Aaron placed the folders and pamphlets down on the console table before stepping out his sneakers, leaving him in his tube socks and going to align them at the door. “This sure is a nice house you’re building here, Phaedra.”

“Why, thank you, Aaron. I do try. Can’t believe I haven’t bothered inviting you in until today, how rude of me.” Even with all the items Phaedra had cradled within her arms, she still managed to pull the clip-on earrings from her earlobes and toss them onto the console table alongside her lanyard. Her umbrella and handbag were left hanging from the free-standing coat rack. “Well feel free to make yourself at home while I go put these up and grab some wine and glasses from the cellar. There’s a storage cabinet for vinyls on the entertainment stand, it’s really not hard to miss. Why don’t you do the honors and pick out something for us to listen to while I’m doing this?”

“I’m on it.” Aaron nodded his head in agreement as he pulled his varsity jacket from his arms and hung it up on the coat rack alongside her drenched umbrella and handbag. Phaedra captivated Aaron with the simple switch of her walk until she was no longer in his presence, and that’s when he took upon himself to cover the living room area a bit more.

Each step he took across the plush carpet left an imprint. His fingertips delicately stroked the keys of the pianette, causing them to spring back up with a gay chord as his eyes practically chased the shadows striking against the ceiling. He spun his way over to the five display cabinets aligned against the back wall that were responsible for protecting Phaedra’s Diplomas, license certificates, awards, African-American figurines and Ancient African sculpture collections to name a few before circling the conversation pit and heading straight for the polished black entertainment stand.

He gambled between each closed cabinet on which one could lead him to that vinyl collection Phaedra spoke of until finally making his decision and striking gold on his first choice. There had to be a couple hundred indexed records sitting within that cabinet, all ranging from The Clark Sisters to Louis Armstrong. How would he ever divvy it down to just one? His mind traced back to Phaedra mentioning wanting to enjoy a glass of wine over a Stevie Wonder record. Classic.

His fingertips brushed against each divider until stumbling across the Ws. He skimmed each record that fell under the category by tilting it at a degree where he could actually view the cover art. When it came down to Wonder’s overfamiliar Hotter Than July record, Aaron withdrew it from the shelf at the speed of lightning.

A genuine smile stretched his face as he ripped the record from it’s sleeve, skillfully flipping it on it’s A-side. He gently blew over it in case of any collected dust before placing it on the turntable, raising the cue lever and carefully positioning the tonearm above the beginning of the record. Aaron could’ve started shuffling his feet to the nostalgic beat of the drums on “Did I Hear You Say You Love Me” if he were confident enough to do so.

“That’s a great choice you’ve made there, Aaron.” Aaron was nearly apart of the storage cabinet when Phaedra decided to whisper in his ear.

“Whew!” He breathed, quickly turning to face the reporter whom had fell into a fit of contagious giggles. He couldn’t help but do the same.

“Did I startle you? I’m sorry.”

“Y-Yeah, you did actually, but it’s no problem. I’m happy that you’re satisfied with the choice I’ve made.”

“Here,” Phaedra handed him one of the burgundy glasses of red wine she had been grasping since making an entrance in which he happily accepted. “Have some wine. It’ll take the edge off.” She suggested, stepping down onto the moveable velvet purple cushions of the conversation pit and having a well-needed seat inside of it. With her legs curled off to one side, of course. “Care to join me?”

The two were comfortably basking in silence for more than a minute while being so intimately close again on that couch. One would simply trace the rim of their glass or hum the melody of the outro to the same song in perfect pitch, but all Aaron could really focus his mind on was the thick 18k herringbone chain that Phaedra almost always had hooked around her neck had pivoted (Probably in her time of domestication) and became unfastened.

He jumped right in to assist her with that, quickly taking another swig of his wine before balancing his glass on the carpet behind them.

“Your necklace’s become undone.” He informed, brushing his hands off.

“Ooh,” Phaedra groaned instantly becoming flushed with embarrassment as she placed her glass down next to his and began to pull herself up from her seat on the couch. “The thing’s always doing that! I need to get it fix—”

“Phae, relax,” Aaron insisted, grabbing at her wrists and bringing her right back down beside him. “I’ll do it for you.”

“O-Okay.” She stammered, twitching a smile in his direction.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹅ You made my soul a burning fire ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ You’re getting to be my one desire，﹅

The lyrics to the next track to jump under the needle were so fitting to Burr’s own situation, and honestly a fan favorite. The rainfall no longer tapped against the windowpane politely for an invitation inside as before, it pounded as if it could actually break inside and hide from it’s own deluge.

Aaron’s heart carried that same rhythm while his eyes were watching something totally opposite from what his hands were functioning on; Phaedra’s lips. In that moment it was as if everything was set in stone for him to plant his lips on her’s—And he did. Within the blink of an eye. The combination of nicotine and red wine were still fresh on her lips.

As expected, Phaedra was the first to rip her lips from his while Aaron’s hands went from tilting her chin to lying on her shoulders. They were frozen in time, foreheads pressed against one another’s with their eyes screwed shut, wondering who would speak first.

“Aaron, what are yo doing?” Phaedra breathed, grabbing at his wrists.

“I was— I was just leaving.” Aaron started to pull himself up from his seat until Phaedra yanked him back down by the hem of his white T-shirt. She was treating him just as he did her earlier, and truthfully speaking, he enjoyed it.

“Aaron, please don’t! Where are you going in all this rain?” He couldn’t give her a straight answer for even she knew his vehicle was blocks from where they were located at. “Aaron,” Phaedra called out to him, and he could’ve sworn he felt his heart flutter when she slipped her fingers beneath his chin and lifted his head until their eyes met again. “I’m not upset with you for kissing me, so there’s no need to feel embarrassed. For once I would like for you to open up to me and tell me how you feel about me. I can’t read minds.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹅ Think about how exciting it would be ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀If you should discover you feel like me ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀If you should discover this dream is for two ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀Well I'm gonna tell you girl，﹅

Aaron took both of Phaedra’s dainty hands within his and gently pressed kisses into her knuckles before bringing them into his lap. He peered into her onyx irises intently with a solemn expression that hinted that he was genuine before pouring his heart out. It was all or nothing.

“Phaedra Shaw, I think— No, I know I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you struggling to dust away music notes from the blackboard of your temporary classroom,” They both laughed out, only Phaedra had tears flooding the brim of her eyes. She never thought she’d see the day where Aaron would confess his love to her. “I imagined you to be this insensitive person my daughter made you out to be, but you’re so above that! You have such an amiable aura about you. Book smart, patient and more importantly, attentive with not only myself, but with the children as well. Selfishly enough, I’d never though I’d feel this way about a woman again and I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do if you don’t give me the chance to be your man, so Phaedra—”

“Yes!” She shouted, standing on her knees while nodding vigorously though it startled Aaron. “Yes, I’ll be your woman!”

All he could do was chuckle to himself as she pulled his hands from his and cupped his face within them instead before being the one to lean in for a kiss this time around.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹅ Gonna tell you, girl ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀I'd light a candle every day and pray that you'll always feel this way ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀And pray that our love will forever be new，﹅

“Aaron,” There she went again, calling out to him in the most tantalizing manner, her lips still pressed against his. “Aaron, there’s no harm in touching me now. I’m all yours,” His eyes danced between hers and the gold buckle of her waist belt as she went to unfasten it along with the oversized mint-trimmed buttons of her dress and boldly bought his arms underneath the open fabric and around her bare waist instead. She was completely exposed to him and he could rarely believe that it was happening. “Make love to me, please.”

Moving a past too fast were the very least of his concern, it was his obligation to give her what she wanted. It was more so about forbidding that different side of him from the forefront for as long as he could and now she would actually witness it.

His left hand smoothed down the small of her back until his fingernails were sinking into her ass cheek so hard that her pussy lips spread while his right wrapped around her throat, the tips of his fingers applying pressure where needed. The action caused her eyes to flutter in excitement. She never took to him being rough, but she accepted it. Allowing the dress to slip from her shoulders and hit the couch cushions before both her hands were trapping his wrist.

“You like that, yeah?” He smirked, nodding his head with his eyes low. He put her in such a trance that all she could physically do was agree with him using a simple head nod. “Words, Phaedra.” He pressed his fingers into her neck furthermore, causing her breath to hitch. She could’ve came in that position if he allowed her to.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?!” He gritted.

“Yes, sir. I-I love it.” She choked out on whatever air it was he was allowing her to inhale.

“That’s right,” He chuckled, almost conceitedly at her response before he licked over his full lips. “Just how you enjoy being on the job without any undergarments on? Bending over as if you want to be seen, but by who? Jefferson perhaps?”

“I—” She started to tell a fib until Aaron put a stop to it by squeezing her cheeks together until her lips were separating. Thomas was indeed attractive, but not of her caliber. It was no one in specific. It was just the thought of being caught like that turned her on.

“Don’t you dare lie to me because I seen it before we even stepped foot on this property, and you don’t speak unless spoken to! That’s what good girls do! You’re treading on thin ice already, Phaedra.” Phaedra was scared stiff from his statement. Terrified that the compliment she had dished consciously was written out on her forehead like a game of Charades. “Turn around and arch your back. Don’t make me ask twice.” He released her from his hold with a slight shove that sent her body flying back against the cushions of the couch with a slight bounce.

As much as she wanted to curse his name or roll her eyes like the Diva that she was, she obeyed his orders instead; flipping onto her stomach, her breasts pressed against the couch before hoisting her ass in mid-air and stretching her arms to the front of her, giving him a clear view of her sleek pussy. It contracted and her clit jumped more than a few times from the air hitting it. It was a sight to see.

“Oh my God, you’re perfect.” Aaron praised barely above a whisper as he bought his body closer to hers.

He had to admit that the first time the palm of his hand came cracking down on her ass was for experiment. The sound resonated throughout the entire room and along followed a small scream. He witnessed her skin turn from caramel to a bright red and started doing the shit for his own enjoyment, sometimes even daring to miscalculate his strikes.

“Let me find out you’re on the job with nothing on beneath your uniform again!” His hand came down twice on the same cheek.

“Oh my God!” She cried out, reaching her hand back to cover her stinging bottom from anymore assault from his hands, but Aaron pinned it to her lower back instead.

“Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson on talking back!” He alternated this time.

“P-Please, sir! I can’t feel my—” Whack! “Aah!”

By now Phaedra began to lose her grip on reality. Her mascara was leaking down her face at this point, her arch lessening as she melted into the seat like quick sand. If this were only a taste from a single utter then she couldn’t imagine what a real lashing was.

“You’re gonna learn to take your lashes like a good girl, Phaedra!” He straightened her back out, his free hand gripping the back of her neck so her face was in the cushions.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She sobbed, convulsing beneath him, but it weren’t a question he were asking. “I’ma good girl!” Whack! “I’ll learn!”

When Aaron thought he had his fill with the activity, he slid back to admire his work. His hands smoothed over her beaming backside in order to alleviate some of the pain she were in, earning him a whimper. Her pussy was drooling onto the couch from his previous actions though her words said otherwise. He just needed to taste her.

Phaedra’s body could barely process what it had just encountered before Aaron was trailing his tongue down her slit a few times, just sampling her arousal. He thought he couldn’t get enough, so he went in for more.

She knew what was to come next. She was as hungry as he was, and couldn’t help but to think what was the shame in helping expedite the process. She reached a hand down to her center, using her index and middle fingers to span her core to him.

He teasingly sucked her lips between his own, sometimes even catching her fingers in the process before his mouth closed in over her aching clit.

“Y-Yesssss! That feels so good, baby!” She squealed as her eyes fixated in the back of her skull.

She was melting into the seat once again, feeling herself about to leak all over him. Aaron wouldn’t let that happen. Not before his tongue came gliding up something so forbidden. He sucked on his middle and ring finger and sunk them inside his lover before proceeding to flick his tongue over her anal.

“T-That’s not my—” Her legs unexpectedly began to shake. “Oh my God, I’m cum’n, baby! Fuck!” Her voice went an octave higher as her fingers found their way to her clit.

He was greedy with all of her. Slapping her hand away and allowing his thumb to rotate her clit a few times until feeling her spray against his chin. He caught whatever didn’t drip onto the couch before coming up for air.

“Look at you, making a mess all over the couch. Now who’s gonna clean it up, hm?”

His dick was practically begging for a release from the restriction of his trousers. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and came out of his trousers and boxer briefs without a care in the world of where the articles of clothing ended up as he buried himself inside her without warning or an ounce of contraceptives. His hand found that comforting place on the back of her neck before she could even think about losing that arch while the other dug into her hip.

“Fuck...” Aaron breathed onto her spine, causing her body to quiver. He hadn’t even began to move his pelvis and he was already flirting with the idea of cumming inside her from just how tight she felt around his appendage. He disliked the fact that one woman had him so vulnerable. “I said who’s gonna clean it up, huh?!” He gained his composure, and rather vastly as he drew his hips back and slammed back into her sticky heat repeatedly. Her ass was rippling off his torso from such force.

“I am!” Phaedra slurred, her nails sinking into the couch beneath them as she took all of him. “I’ll do whatever you say!”

“Oh, yeah?” The sound of it made his dick twitch. His hand snaked to her larynx, bringing her body upright, right along with his. He had a perfect angle of her stained face in this position. Her eyes begging for release. “Open your mouth.” He demanded, his hands gripping her jaw.

She did so without hesitation, allowing him to spit directly in it. He was degrading her and she loved it.

“Swallow it! Every drop!” He barked, giving her cheeks a few encouraging slaps. Her heart fluttered as she quickly closed her mouth to swallow spit and stuck her tongue right back out so that he could examine it for himself. “Such a good girl,” He praised, bringing his hand back to her throat as his thrusts picked up where they left off at. She barely got the opportunity to catch her breath before he was plunging on her spot and slapping her clit at the same time. “You can cum now, baby.”

Those five words were all it took to bring her over the edge. Her body convulsing involuntarily as her fluids seeped down her inner thighs.

Aaron absentmindedly pushed her fragile body into the couch, causing him to pull from her grip. She clenched at his absence. How was he possibly still holding himself off at the rates that he were going? He couldn’t figure it out his damn self.

He caught her calf muscle in his hand before flipping her over on her back, pulling her body towards him and splitting her legs on either sides of him as he dragged his tip along her clit, nearly causing her legs to pry shut from the sensitivity.

From experience, Phaedra knew what it was that he were asking for and had no problem rewarding him with that. She snaked her arms around his neck, bringing herself up on her tippy-toes as she balanced herself just above his dick.

Aaron’s arms were back around her waist within seconds, his nails digging into her ass the minute she decided to bring herself down on him full force with an shattering moan against his lips. She had came just that quick.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Aaron groaned, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood before offering her his tongue which she gladly obliged to suck on.

Their clammy bodies were the closest they had ever been that night. Chest to breasts, studying the rhythm of each other’s heartbeat. They chased their orgasms just the same way lightning chased after it’s thunder roll, the timeless voice of Stevie Wonder carrying them through.

He tweaked her nipples between his fingers as she snapped her hips against him arrhythmically, totally ignoring that overfamiliar knotting in the pit of her stomach as she witnessed his face contort. He was on the brink of cum’n for her.

“Fuuuck,” He whispered harshly, his mouth slightly ajar as he snaked his arms in the back of her thighs. He bottomed out in her cervix, making her toes curl. He was undefeated. “I’ma nut all in you, give us another baby. That’s what you want?”

“Pleaaase!” She whined, her acrylics gliding off his back continuously. She had no leverage to stop what was coming. She didn’t even know what she was begging for at this point, him to give way or his seed. “Oh, God! I’m cum’n! You’re making me cum again!” She squealed as he struck the same chords again.

“Don’t hold back. Give me all of it.” His thrusts progressively slacked, his hands squeezing her throat the moment her cream slid off on his dick. The more pressure he applied, the more she leaked all over him.

He was sure on filling her up before pulling out completely. He towered above her, still pumping his dick as spurts of his cum landed on her pretty ass lips.

“Be a good girl and c-clean up your mess.” Aaron stammered, rubbing his tip along her lips.

Phaedra obliged, boring her eyes into his and licking over her full lips before wrapping them around his tip tightly. She sucked gently before allowing him to hit the back of her throat a few times.

He thought he’d cum at the sight of her lips leaving him with a trail of saliva following not too far behind.

“Thank you.” She smirked, giving his tip one final kiss.

She was a keeper.

[artigas]

My sisters are obsessed with Hamilton and constantly playing the album around the house, so lately I’ve been thinking about one of my fave and factual historical crossovers of all time. I doubt this will interest anyone but me, considering the thesis I spent a year writing, but there’s this line in The World was Wide Enough: Aaron Burr says “I had only one thought before the slaughter: / This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.” 

Here’s what gets to me about that line. If you watch the musical or know anything about this man’s life, you know that Burr was almost unbelievably followed by the specter of death. His parents and his caretakers died. When he finally has a stable guardian, the guy is an abusive piece of shit who constantly beats him. Burr tries repeatedly to run away from home. About 12 years into their marriage, Burr’s wife died of cancer. There is no mention of the senior Theodosia after Wait For It, so this line does a great job of revealing yet another heartbreaking loss in Burr’s life and instantly illuminates the stakes of the duel he’s started. 

So, anyways, here’s the bit that just appeals to me personally and probably literally nobody else. Burr kills Hamilton. His daughter goes un-orphaned, which would be some consolation for Burr, I’m sure, except she dies about eight years later, when a voyage going north from South Carolina is lost at sea. Years pass and Burr, who makes public his belief that his daughter died in the shipwreck, is plagued by false accounts that his daughter was discovered alive and well in a far off island or was violently killed by pirates or kidnapped for ransom, etc

Burr eventually leaves the United States. He has other children, yes, but the loss of Theodosia is obviously quite a significant one. So, here’s the bit that jumped out at me when I read a biography that had literally nothing to do with Aaron Burr (so imagine my surprise when he showed up like a guest star in the illustrious life of another historical figure I care a lot more about...). Burr goes to Europe for a while where he frequents the houses of thinkers like William Godwin, who already had a history of aligning himself with American revolutionaries and radicals (like my boy Thomas Paine). And as Burr becomes a more frequent guest, he develops a paternal bond with a young girl in the household who has found herself replaced by Godwin’s children from another mother, a disapproving and possibly violent woman who is so unlike the infamous proto-feminist Mary Wollstonecraft...

That’s right! Aaron Burr went on to become a needed, welcomed, and overall beloved father figure to Mary Shelley! The Mary Shelley! The very prodigy who would go onto to create the science fiction genre, the first non-religious creation story, the first apocalyptic novel, and, of course, the masterpiece about failed fatherhood, the loss of children, the insidious nature of valuing reputation over compassion, and the costs of monstrosity: Frankenstein!!

[searchin-for-an-urchin]

Like the First Snowfall of the Season Aaron Burr x Reader Chapter 13

Tags: @fangirlandnerd @ milena-millennium @fangirl570@studysafeplace @bees-are-more-important @i-know-i-can @imjustaworldoffandom 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9  Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Masterlist

W/C 3.2k

A/N -This is purely fluff. Really, the rest of the series is going to be purely fluff because I personally cannot handle much angst. I also accidentally posted this to my main at first... woops.

      Thanksgiving passes well. Your parents texted you when they landed safely back home, and once again said how much they adored Aaron, saying that you picked well and that they were excited for Aaron and Theodosia to come to Christmas to meet the rest of the family. It warmed your heart. Work picked up for you again in December with all the tourists coming to NYC, but it was to be expected as it does every year. Even with the uptick though, you and Nathaniel still met up as planned, this time carving out an entire afternoon to meet up with him.

“I think I’m ready to meet Charlotte”, is what he blurts out when you first sit down at the coffee shop. You were grateful you had set down the mug of hot chocolate before he said anything as it would have slipped out in shock. The shock reflected on your face but Nathaniel continued.

    “I would like to be a part of her life. I’m not asking for custody or anything, and I’ll sign anything you would like me to, but I want to meet her.” He could sense your hesitance, but Nathaniel tries to be as reassuring as he can. “I know this is a weird situation, but she’s my kid and I would like to meet her.” It’s hard to dismiss the sincerity in his eyes, so you sigh.

    “Let me talk to her, okay? I’ll ask Aaron what he thinks about the paperwork, too. Thanks for the offer about that, by the way.” Nathaniel nods, clearly relieved that you’re thinking about this rather than completely shutting him down. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful as you thought about how to bring this up to Aaron and Charlotte.

    You don’t give yourself a chance to talk your way out of bringing Aaron in the loop. Leaving your meeting with Nathaniel, you immediately head towards Washington and Sons, planning on catching Aaron as he gets ready to leave to get Theodosia. You shot him a text as you travelled the couple of blocks to his office and by the time you arrive, tea in hand for your boyfriend, his face is tinged pink because of the cold wind.

    “Thank you, my love,” He says, greeting you and accepting his drink from you. He leans down and kisses your cheek, warming you up inside.

    “Anytime,” is how you reply. He reaches out a gloved hand to intertwine his fingers with yours and you begin to walk towards the school to reach your daughters.

    “Hey Aaron?”

    “Yes, Y/N?”

    “Remember how I met with Nathaniel again today?” The only way you could tell that your boyfriend was uneasy about this conversation was the slight pressure change in his grip of your palm, but otherwise he was indifferent when he answered with a nod. “Well,” you continue, “He’s decided he wants to meet Charlotte, which of course I’m going to ask her first, but he mentioned that he’s not trying to get custody or anything and would be willing to sign papers that say that, so I guess I’m asking what you as a lawyer think I should do.” Aaron takes a moment to think about how to respond.

    “Honestly,” he begins, slightly unsure tone in his voice as his thoughts reason out his words, “I don’t think you should make him sign anything right away. Give him a meeting or two with her if she agrees, and then meet up with him again and discuss your options.” You nod, mulling over his words, his legal advice. He adds, “Family law isn’t my expertise, but my gut feeling as a father says to wait a little bit before bringing in the lawyer.”

    “Okay,” you voice. “That’s what I’ll do then.” You turn to face him, squeeze his hand a little and say, “I appreciate your advice.”

    “Anytime, Y/N.”

    The two of you arrive hand in hand at the school. Cara, the secretary, as well as the teachers have become accustomed to the two of you together. In fact, a couple teachers have come up to you directly to comment that they thought you worked well as a couple. Everytime ended up with a flushed face and a sincere “thank you”, because honestly, you and Aaron thought you worked pretty well together, too. Charlotte and Theodosia were waiting together, both bundled up in coats and gloves, happily chatting away with each other. It really does warm your heart to think about how far the two have come. When the girls see you, they both wave at their teacher and start running towards you, slowing down just in time to embrace your legs without knocking anyone over.

    “Can we have a movie night tonight?” They both ask at the same time, clearly have rehearsed it beforehand. Aaron gives you a glance, silently reading your face before answering,

    “After homework is finished, I don’t see why not.”

    The girls excitedly react to the opportunity to hang out on a school night, and you smile at their happiness. After deciding on the Spongebob Movie, which neither you nor Aaron are surprised by the choice, the girls begin to talk one by one about their day. It’s always great to see Charlotte animatedly discussing anything, but it’s even better to see her interacting with the same enthusiasm she’s shown to you and your family, with other people. It crosses your mind that once you and Charlotte move in with the Burrs, that moments like these will occur more often.

    You and Aaron decide that movie night would be best at the Burr household this time. With a kiss on the cheek from Aaron and a kiss given to the crown of each of the girls’ heads, you split up and run back home to pack up an overnight bag for you and Charlotte. When you arrive at the apartment, packing up the essentials goes quickly, and you make a mental note that you should probably start packing up some point for the move. You’ll need to tell the girls soon, but it hasn’t come up yet. Also, you haven’t decided when you wanted to tell them. Should you wait and have it be a surprise for Christmas? Do you tell them now so they know packing’s going to be a chore? And on top of all of that there’s Nathaniel and how he fits into the mix. Sighing deeply, you decide telling Charlotte tomorrow is the best idea regarding Nathaniel. She can decide if she wants to meet him. A quick text is sent to Nathaniel to tell him that’s what you’ll do, and he responds with a “Sounds good!”, which lets you breathe out another sigh, this one not so heavy.

    After packing up a quick overnight bag, you take another look at the apartment. It’s exciting to think in a little less than a month that you won’t be living here anymore.

    Movie night, of course, was a hit for your girls. Rather than falling asleep on various furniture like they did the first time they slept over together, Theodosia actually pulled out a Spongebob kid’s tent big enough for the two of them. They actually watched the movie from the zipper opening, having stuffed it full of pillows, blankets, and various toys. Credits rolled after the movie, and both girls were fast asleep. Before shutting the movie down and heading to bed yourselves, you snap a picture of the two and send it to Aaron, Peggy, John, and your parents in separate messages. Aaron places a kiss on your temple and the two of you are off to bed.

    At 5am you’re both woken by your alarms, silencing them quickly as to not wake the girls, but to also spend some quiet time together. It’s sweet, really, being wrapped up in Aaron’s warm embrace, wearing one of his Columbia Law sweatshirts that you make a mental note to pack it up with your other clothes. After about 15 minutes the two of you get out of bed and shower, getting ready for the day. A quick glance to your phone shows a picture from Peggy, who was opening the cafe today. The picture is of the front of the cafe, covered in snow. The sidewalk was unwalkable and it didn’t even look as if the door could be open.

    Previously, in a situation like this, you would panic about the possibility of not being open. Now, as the cafe has started to turn decent profits, you’re not as worried. You dial your should-be sister-in-law/best friend’s number and wait for the phone to ring.

    “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” is how she greets you. Aaron, standing beside you in the bathroom (he has a double mirror/double sink counter in his primary bathroom - how amazing is that?), brushing his teeth, raises an eyebrow at you on your phone at 5:45am.

    “I think it would be safer if we don’t open today.”

    “Oh thank God, you were thinking the same thing. I’ll make a sign and update the phone and social media,” she replies.

    “I’ll message all the employees. I think we could definitely use the discretionary funds so everyone gets their wages today,” you respond, wiping the gunk out of your eyes, watching your reflection in the mirror.

    “Fantastic. Do you and Charlotte have plans today?”

    “Uh, hold on.” You move the phone away from your mouth and ask Aaron, “Do you know if it’s a snow day for the girls? The cafe is covered, so I can’t imagine school will be open.

    “Give me one moment and I’ll grab my phone to check,” Aaron states, leaving the bathroom. This gives Peggy a chance to interrogate you, asking,

    “Are you with Aaron right now?”

    “Yeah, the girls wanted a movie night so Charlotte and I stayed over last night.” Speaking of Aaron, he comes back and informs you that there is, indeed, a snow day for the girls. You repeat this to Peggy and add, “Maybe we can get a head start on our holiday bucket list. I’ll let you know and if we do anything big besides play outside, you and John would be welcome to join us.”

    You and Peggy say your goodbyes and you put your attention back on your boyfriend, who is leaning against the doorway to the bathroom, scrolling through his emails. He’s wearing a maroon robe over his clean undershirt and boxers and white slippers that are surprisingly in pristine condition. You’ve changed into your outfit of the day, which was just slacks and a button down blouse for work. Aaron’s gaze connects back to yours and he informs you work was cancelled for him too.

    “Can you tell me about your holiday bucket list?” This question makes you light up and you explain the tradition you and Charlotte have. Every year at the beginning of December you and your daughter come up with a list of 25 things you want to do before the end of January. Initially the idea was to have it done by Christmas, but you and Charlotte agreed that it was not a feasible option for your schedules. Throughout the explanation and examples you were sharing with Aaron, a smile has appeared on his face. He’s watching your animated expressions and he’s thinking to himself, it’s amazing that he found you.

    You and Aaron stayed in the bedroom watching the news and talking out your timeline for moving in. It was decided that you’ll tell the girls at Christmas, which was finally agreed upon after coming up with a plan on how to move things without Charlotte realizing things were dwindling or Theodosia noticing the empty rooms were not so empty anymore. You even managed to talk to your parents in this time who insisted on buying Charlotte a whole new bedroom set, one that incidentally matches the one Theodosia has in her room, and asked if you could have her and Theodosia pick out new bedding for part of their Christmas presents (another yearly tradition, you explain) and mentioned that you and Aaron should send which set you want, too. Aaron chuckles and pokes your cheek that is now flushed by the implication. He thanks your parents and adds that he’s looking forward to not being in the city for the holidays.

    The phone call ends, and you’re back to staring at your boyfriend. Before he can ask what you think that you should collectively give your parents, you’ve placed a hand on the back of Aaron’s neck and pulled him down to connect his mouth to yours. He makes a surprised noise which becomes muffled by your connected lips. He deepens the kiss for a few more moments and you pull back, smile on your face, and you admit,

    “I really love you, Aaron.”

    “I really love you, too.”

          Eventually the girls wake up around 9am, making their way into the bedroom where you were now watching cartoons and lazily making out. On the bright side, their shuffling feet were loud enough for you to hear and separate before they entered the room. After being told that it was a snow day and there would be no school, they both wordlessly crawled into the bed with you, Charlotte going for Aaron’s lap and Theodosia going for yours. It was apparent that this morning would not be productive, which, looking at the gorgeous girl whose arms are wrapped around you right now, and your daughter in a similar position but with the man you love, this was what you wanted. You grab your phone and get Aaron’s attention, indicating you were going to take a photo of this. It seems Aaron was equally as surprised and warmed by the turn of events, as you were also expecting Charlotte to want to cuddle with you, but this was perfect, too.          

    After another hour, the girls began to wake up. Theodosia looked a little confused when she realized she was cuddling with you and not her dad, but after a moment of consideration, her arms squeezed you tighter rather than loosening her hold. In turn, you squeeze her tighter and you both giggle quietly.

    “Do y’all want pancakes or waffles for brunch?” You ask after making sure everyone was at least awake enough to answer the question. Waffles was the clear winner, and Aaron started the prep on them while you helped the girls get ready for the day. The girls spent some time choosing outfits as Theo kindly offered her clothes up for Charlie, explaining that a lazy day entails a different style than a school day. They complimented your change of clothes too. You had changed back into your leggings that you sleep in and Aaron had handed you another one of his shirts for you to wear (“I know you’re planning on stealing that sweatshirt, but here’s another one you can wear today”) Outfits were picked and the girls went through their morning routines, allowing you a chance to go to the kitchen and help with the breakfast.

    The kitchen was amazing. It was almost as good as the kitchen in your cafe which was the result of your meticulous research, budgeting, and design. Aaron also looked like he knew his way around it, which was almost as attractive as the fact that he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt from one of the school fundraisers and sweatpants under a plain apron. Your boyfriend had finished mixing the batter and was getting eggs ready as the waffle iron and skillet were both heating up. He had also pulled out some fruit that he had leftover and some yogurt that was a couple days from expiring. You dug around and found some granola in a lower cupboard, feeling eyes on your butt, wiggling around a little bit more than necessary to tease Aaron. You make immediate eye contact when you bend back up, shaking the granola to get his attention, giving him a knowing smirk, which he returned. Together, you make a brunch spread worthy of the Canary Cafe, applauding Aaron’s talent in the kitchen. The girls chat animatedly to each other, and to you and Aaron, and before you know it, Charlotte is trying to get your attention specifically.

    “Hey Mom?”

    “Hmm?” you respond, mouth full of your parfait.

    “Can we include Mr. Aaron and Theo in our bucket list this year?” You swallow your food as Theo’s attention goes to you, Aaron pretending like he’s not completely interested in this either.

    “Hey, I was gonna ask you the same question today! Sure, I think it would be fun to have all four of us do it.”

          “Can we make the bucket list today?”

    “Sure, Charlie.”

    After your daughter explains the bucket list to Theodosia, both girls are extremely excited. It becomes clear that the bucket list needed to be compiled before anything else got done. So you got to work and compiled the list below.

Play in the snow (”We can do that today!”)

Go sledding

Sleigh ride

Rockefeller Center

Family photos with the four of us

Family photos with cousins

Play date with John and Peggy

Hot chocolate at the cafe

Present shopping

Decorate!

Take down decorations (“We have to put this on the list or the decorations stay up until Easter”)

Make a snow family

Snow angels

Wrap presents and send them to SC before the 10th (“I have five siblings and ten nieces and nephews, not to mention John, Peggy, my parents, Charlotte, and the two of you, it’s too many presents to take with us on the plane ride”.)

Bake cookies

Watch holiday episodes of cartoons

Make stockings

Slumber party with John and Peggy (“Ooh, we could do that while you and Ms. Y/N go to your holiday party!)

Holiday party at the Cafe

Karaoke (“We do karaoke instead of caroling because Mom has a bad voice” “Excuse you!”)

Matching sweaters

Fireplace dinner (“Theo and Mr. Aaron have a fireplace so we can do this!)

Pictures with Santa (“Let’s not wait until last minute again, this year, Mom” “Why is my kid revealing all of my secrets?”)

Grinch movie marathon (“Wait, HOW MANY Grinch movies are there?!?”

Dessert for dinner

__________

    The snow stopped coming down about 2pm, giving all of you a chance to relax before bundling up to head to the park. You knew the girls weren’t going to last too long in the snow, but you were able to knock out playing in the snow, making a snow family, and making snow angels from the list. Aaron pulled out a digital camera for the little adventure which proved to be a good decision as your phone died about halfway through. Aaron made sure to put the camera back inside his coat so it didn’t get too cold and damage it. It was a good thing too, because not soon after, you send a snowball his way, smacking him square in the shoulder. He takes a moment, gaining the attention of your daughters, as he over-exaggerates his “pain” and “betrayal”, making the girls giggle, and your smile grow wider. Within an instant, though, he’s gathered up a snowball and thrown it with fantastic aim at you. A family snowball fight wasn’t on the list, but it was a very fun experience in the first snowfall of the season.

[thanatophobia-thoughts]

“Anyone else remember those so-called science documentaries we had to watch in school that were really just Creationist propaganda? Just me?”

Okay…let’s talk Surviving Death on Netflix. The tl;dr: this series is afterlife propaganda wrapped up in bad science, with no opposing opinions presented at all. It made me think of those terrible films I had to watch in various science classes about the beginnings of life and whatnot.

 This is going to be a long one, so I’m putting it under a cut.

The first episode was the one I had the most hope for. It discusses Near Death Experiences, and introduces various people who have had them, and then some scientists and doctors who have dealt with these people, this phenomena, or looked into it. This is, unfortunately, where it goes wrong – it brings in no dissenting voices. Every sceptic is a former sceptic. They lay out their reasons for why, of course, but there’s something about it that feels incomplete.

It tries to offer up some compelling evidence, of course. It indicates what people share in common – a warm, bright light, a feeling of being loved, and the sense of time distorting – feeling eternity in a second. These are shared across the board.

Then they bring up how some patients can indicate what was happening in the room when they would have had no brain activity. Such as what words were said, what actions were taken, things they couldn’t have known due to the lack of consciousness. Is that compelling? In some respects, yes. It’s a wonder how they knew this, and it’s unclear what anyone would get by falsifying this, as I doubt most end up doing TV interviews and getting paid for it – not to mention what the doctors and others who confirm their stories, get for this.

Do I have an answer for that? No, not at all.

It could be fraud.

It could yet be some aspect of a dying body that we don’t understand, and I am inclined towards that. That leaves open room for, yes, an aspect of a soul, consciousness, or something other. It also leaves room for a hyperawareness in the last moments.

However, how quickly they seem to think the brain stops having activity does give me pause. We know plenty about the brain, and brain activity is measured, but we also know cells and processes don’t stop all at once. I’m not convinced that the Warm Light, Time Distortion, Loving Feeling aren’t caused by this process. In fact, I’m fairly certain they are, because DMT is released as you die – the very same thing that is released when you dream.

Here is just one article on it, which admittedly has a low amount of participants:

https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2018.01424/full

I cannot explain how patients know about things happening around them, so that I will accept right now as something of a mystery until we understand it better. That’s what science is about: understanding things.

The next two episodes are about mediums, which, I’ll say it: they’re con-artists. I have been to enough Spirit-Mind-Body fairs (and still enjoy going to them for reasons outside of Mediums), have gotten enough readings, and watched my mom test enough people, to be fairly certain of this.

Mediums claim they can access the deceased person and provide messages to them, from the living, thus confirming an afterlife experience. Cold readers use obvious tricks: Use common names or no names, use things like ‘father figure’ or ‘masculine energy’ coming through, consider the age of the person you’re speaking with (when I was in my early teens and 20s, they always wanted to talk about my romantic life because young girls are always thinking about that, right?), and then they can usually draw the person they’re speaking with into giving them enough information that it seems like they know what they are saying.

There are also hot readings, where the medium has time to gather information on the person beforehand and can thus make it seem like they know a lot.

The show also did a séance with a “physical medium” – but the séance itself can’t be recorded, because of course, the ectoplasm that the medium would produce to create the physical sensations is sensitive to light. And did we mention the medium is in total darkness, and put away in a cabinet – tied to the chair, mind – but in a cabinet, out of sight, for the duration of the séance? Yeah, that’s not fishy at all. (And later they show her doing a non-physical mediumship and she’s not convincing, it’s very cold reading scenario).

Her Physical Mediumship was also questionable. She reached out to one of the people, Aman, and said there was someone on the other side for him that she couldn’t understand – she used the Hindi word for ‘Son’, beta. Aman then spoke to his father in Hindi, but RIGHT AFTER THIS, the medium suddenly knew exactly what his father was saying and gave the message without attempting to say it phonetically to the son. And the son believed this.

Also note, this man was signed up to take classes and such with her. She had time to research him and why he was there, so it is probable she looked up that one word to make a connection.

It also shows a medium speaking with a mother who lost her daughter – and of course, the message is to be expected for a grieving mother – “don’t blame yourself” “you couldn’t have done anything”. No details about how they died are offered, although they seem to know she “has an object” on her that’s important.

The following episode is then about signs, and how the dead communicate with the living – like sending a cardinal to them, leaving behind particular coins, having butterflies in weird locations, and things like that.

Basically, coincidences.

Of course, they all say you don’t know the difference until you experience it yourself. Here’s the thing: I have.

My cat passed away in in 2016, in the fall. A little after her death, there was a dead dove right besides the driver’s side door of my car. I had a pet dove once upon a time. This very cat got to the dove, in her locked cage, and killed her. There was a part of me that desperately wanted to believe, and clung to that feeling for a bit, but I know, the likelihood is it was an odd coincidence, a poor bird that hit the side of the garage my car is parked by, and slid down it to that position.

Signs are only just that – coincidences.

The next episode continues into the theme of paranormal investigators. It shows a duo going into the Morris-Jumel mansion, setting up recording devices, white noise makers, and motion sensors, and trying to communicate with the dead. They use the white noise makers because APPARENTLY the dead need background noise to be heard.

They APPARENTLY reach Aaron Burr. They only get his name, and then his footsteps. I’ll be honest – I didn’t hear ‘Aaron Burr’ at all in the recording, I think they just wanted it to be Aaron Burr. I’m also not convinced cat toy motion detectors are the best route. Those things light up for, literally, no reason.

It then goes into discussion of a polaroid camera, that took photos of light, that then became words and messages – which of course they can no longer replicate because the particular film doesn’t exist any longer. I don’t know enough about photography or photomanipulation, but my mother loves this stuff, and I know there are ways even polaroids can be manipulated to come out certain ways, so no, I’m not buying that, either.

The last thing it touches on are apparitions, like when you go out to look for someone, or think of someone, and at that same time they’d just killed themselves. That intuition that none of us really have a way to describe. It could be mere coincidence, though I imagine anyone with a mother who had that maternal instinct suspects it’s something more. I don’t have an answer for it, though, beyond mere coincidence. I am not convinced it happens often enough to be something supernatural.

Finally, we get to the last episode, which talks about reincarnation.

It looks mostly at children who believe they are reincarnated people, such as Marty Martyn in one case, and in “pre-internet” ages, or before they could reasonably know this information.

Their answers are compared and contrasted with the reality of those they believe they were reincarnated from, but in all the cases looked at, they begin to forget this other life’s existence around the age of 7. Some things stick, but not much.

This is another of those things I don’t have a good answer for – it’d be terrible to say it’s fraud on the parents’ part, coaching their kid on these things. It’s also hard to figure how the children, or even the parents, knew some of these things that line up fairly well.

I have my curiosities about Organ Memory. There is the possibility that if enough of the same material came together to form someone, theoretically, it could provide specific memories, but I doubt this entirely.

Some of it could be that the child was, somehow, exposed to a lot of this. Perhaps there was a documentary left on about the subject that they claim as their other life, perhaps they really are that good at googling at a young age – I’m still better than my parents at this, after all.

This is what the show fails to present, however: opposing views. It leads you in one direction, and even directly INSULTS those who don’t buy into this view. Do I know enough to answer these questions? No, I don’t. I’m able to say that.

I can suspect things like fraud or access to information. I can suspect coincidence, or even information we don’t yet have. I can hope there will be another series that focuses on the non-believer’s side, so that we get a fuller story.

Why do I think it’s important?

Because some of these quotes came from the series:

“For the believer, no proof is necessary. For the sceptic, no proof is possible.” (Attributed to someone else, but used as “proof”).

“I wanted to believe so I believed.” – a father grieving his daughter

“Sometimes we may not be able to say something here, but we’ll be able to say it somewhere else.” – a near death experience between a son and a father.

I find these quotes to be damaging. The last one in particular, because it tries to say it’s okay not to make these connections in life, it’s okay to wait until the next one. Please. Please don’t do this. Don’t believe this – and even if you do, don’t live like that. It’s not fair to those around you. It’s not fair to yourself.

The one who wanted to believe, well…that says it all, doesn’t it? He was looking for this, for comfort, and now he tries to see it. He’s living for a lie, and working his life around that. He has spent MONEY on learning how to contact the dead, on contacting the dead, and he lives his life around looking for particular signs. He has been scammed.

The first one is honestly just nonsense, though I can see why it gets to going around, especially in this time of COVID-19. It is hard to convince some people of things, and they will cling to their beliefs no matter what. I am not without bias – you can see I’m arguing this even with these so-called proofs presented to me, that there is no afterlife.

That said, that quote is just one of giving up.

They also do not say ALL about subjects, such as Franek Kluski, who supposedly made ectoplasmic wax hands, in environments where he could have easily hidden the wax hands already made, and where he’d been caught in a lie that involved “wax buttocks” when he was asked to have an ectoplasm face created (his own butt was burned), and who may have confessed to the fraud (this seems to be debated).

Overall, the Netflix series has an agenda, which is inherent in the title: it is here to convince you there is an afterlife. However, it’s science is questionable, and I think it could have done better by including actual opposition, not “former sceptics”.

[matsumi101]

Who is this Kid?

Crossdressing Fem!Reader Hamilton Insert

A Winter’s Ball - Daughter & Soldier Routes Teaser

Description:

The war is but a near memory for tonight, ever looming but not quite there. All you have to do is to enjoy the ball, but your time quickly turns into a night of survival as unexpected guests arrive and complicate things further than it already was.

———————————

Warnings: mild swearing, body insecurities, stress drinking, panicking, Lafayette failing you on the dance floor

———————————

Notes:

> Masterlist

> Continuation of this part

> “F/N” means fake name and “Y/N” means your real first name

> This part happens during, well, “A Winter’s Ball”

> So this is a full-blown story now aight then not that i mind lol im enjoying this too

> I don’t do French so every phrase you see was straight out of google translate sksksksk

> Have a little treat for now uwu

———————————

Taglist (if u wanna be added do tell!)

@thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @cutie1365 @girlmadeofivory @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore​

———————————

Daughter Route

“Be careful!” Angelica scolded, but there was laughter in her voice.

“Sorry, I haven’t worn heels in a while.”

You grinned sheepishly while Angelica scoffed at you. “Come upstairs, so we can talk more privately,” Angelica insisted. You nodded and followed her to her room. The moment the door shut, you were faced with a very intrigued Angelica. “How does it look like?” Angelica asked. “Out there in the battlefield.”

You exhaled sharply as you sat on one of the couches. “Bloody,” you answered, grimacing a bit. Memories of blood-stained coats, both blue and red, flashed briefly in your mind. You swore you could’ve smelled the phantom scent of gunpowder despite knowing where you were right now. “General Washington’s doing the best he can to get as much supplies from the Congress. I can’t say we’re in a tight spot, but I can’t say we’re not in a pinch, either.” You glanced up and saw Angelica still staring expectantly. You didn’t need to ask why.

“I’m trying my best to reach out to the General, but with my current ranking it’s nearly impossible to talk to him,” you explained dejectedly. “It’s difficult to rise to the ranks when people are... biased.”

You scrunched your face slightly. “Lafayette’s aristocratic nature helped him up to become general. There’s Laurens and his ties with his father. And Hamilton...” you trailed off. Out of the three that you mentioned, Alexander was the only person that had no grandiose background, and yet he there he was as Washington’s right hand man. You were glad that the Schuylers even caught wind of your family’s name. You couldn't mention Hercules as a member of the Sons of Liberty, no matter how much you trusted Angelica, so you opted not to mention him.

“What about Hamilton?”

You blinked, not knowing how long you were spacing out for. “Hamilton’s got his unprecedented writing skill and knowledge to his advantage,” you managed to say, earning an interested look from Angelica. “I don’t have that, but I’m working my way to talking to the General. I’ve established connections with all three people I just mentioned, so I have greater odds now.”

Hearing the last statement made Angelica smile. “Though, I have more pressing matters right now, and I need your help,” you informed. “Okay, what is it?” Angelica asked, placing her hands on her hips. You bit the inside of your cheeks, suddenly not sure if you should really consider your upcoming concern as a “pressing matter”, but you already said it, and you knew Angelica would chew you out if you said to forget about it.

“I... need... a dress.”

“What?”

You clasped your hands tightly together to keep yourself from burying your face. “I need a dress. For the ball tomorrow night,” you managed to say more clearly. “Seriously, that’s your big problem?” Angelica couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Yes! I don’t have any proper dress right now and you know why. I don’t have enough money left with me to buy even a fabric, and-”

“Relax, Y/N. I’m messing with you.”

You slumped your shoulders, either by relief or exasperation or both as Angelica gave you a teasing wink. “Well, we can’t have a gown sewn immediately, but let’s see what I have,” Angelica said. She walked into her closet and drew it open, revealing the rows and rows of elegant dresses to choose from. You stared at the closet for a moment, a little astonished by the sheer amount of clothes that was there. You had a decent wardrobe at home, but that was nothing in comparison to what was presented to you right now.

“Let’s see here...”

———————————

Soldier Route

“Oh, wow.”

You stared at the navy coat that hung in front of you. Any marks that signified its presence in the war was literally washed off; your coat was spotless, and so was everyone else’s. “Like it, F/N? They said yours took extra effort to clean.” Hercules poked his head out from the doorway to see your reaction. You hummed, trailing your fingers over the barely noticeable patches.

“You did a mighty job with the coats.”

“Of course, it’s what I do.”

Alexander was the first to check on his appearance on the old mirror at the corner. “You think this would be good? This is my first ball, after all,” he asked, turning to check the back of his coat on the mirror. John was the first to respond, putting out the “ok” gesture while clicking his tongue in approval.

“It’s your first ball, Hamilton?” you asked for clarification.

“Well, yeah. I don’t exactly have the luxury of experiencing one in the Caribbean.”

If Alexander was trying his best not to sound bitter, he was doing it well. “Well, I’m sure you’d love it,” you replied happily. You put on your coat, the strong scent of lavender hitting your nose. It was honestly refreshing, considering all you’ve picked up from your coat every time you wore it was dirt, blood, and some occasional liquor. You glanced around the small room, which was cramped with all six people simultaneously moving inside. You were at the tailor shop Hercules worked in, picking up the coats to be worn for the ball later that evening.

“Yeah, the ball’s the best place to be,“ Aaron agreed. “Can’t find a better place to show off our skills, y’know.”

From the corner of your eyes you could see the suggestive look on his face, so you turned away to hide your disgust as sounds of agreement rung across the room. Sometimes you forgot that these guys were as vulgar as they were chaotic, yet you still loved them anyways. “I don’t think a grand ball would be a place to look for a one night stand, Burr,” you calmly retorted. A slow grin then made its way to your lips. “Though, I think there’s a better thing to look there.”

“Which is?”

You rubbed your fingers together, and that was an answer enough. “I’m pretty sure majority of the attendees would be there to create ties for their businesses. You’ll see fancy people trotting along with their fake smiles and all,” Alexander spoke up. Your failed attempt to hide your laughter turned into a snort when he animatedly skipped around the place while pretending to hold a cane. He continued on with his ramblings, almost failing to hear the person from the entrance.

“Is everyone ready?”

[jefferoni-quotes]

Stalling Expulsion

Hey, gems! This is my day 13 of @hamiltonholidaycalendar ! I’m super excited and really proud of this. Sorry if the endings a bit rushed, I ran out of time,,,

Rated: Teen Audiences

TW: Mentions of violence, drugs, death

-

Whistled tones whipped down the halls of the large country boarding school, as wind teased the maroon common room curtains through extravagant glass windows. Crumpled currant toned bed drapes lined the circular boys dormitory, and the posts hung bed curtains which were open and crinkled. Clothes lay strewn across the old hickory wood floors, a mix of old socks, pyjama pants and unwanted shoes. The whole school had gathered in the great hall for breakfast, all but four. They were huddled in the dormitory bathroom, slinking around waiting for first class.

The eldest being sixteen years old, tall and broad, yet far from the most responsible. The youngest was a lanky French boy, who had recently become fifteen. The other two were also fifteen, but one not far off his sweetest sixteen. None of which were very responsible when it came to fun. Smarts, well, you may suppose they contained some sort of brain-cell. Although it appeared to bounce around their head like a DVD screensaver. You may even conclude, that the four shared a brain-cell, taking single turns on it like small children sharing a piano.

The oldest of them all was the one whistling, he was tweeting a soft tune, one that seems to be without meaning or purpose, but instead one you may subconsciously commit yourself to when bored.

Smallest of them, a boy who had his fifteenth a simple month before, tightened his ponytail and swiped a sniffle from his nose. Perhaps skipping breakfast in favour of hanging around like a gang of uneducated delinquents wasn't their best plan, but at the very least they had learned not to do it again. Not that he ever planned to admit his wrong doing.

One boy, who bore a curled ponytail that hung low, sat on a sink, his back against the wall and his feet in the porcelain bowl of it. He piped up with a skip in his voice, "why did we skip morning meal again?" He inquired in his distinct North-Carolinian accent, as his stomach growled angrily at him. He was missing out on his wake up food of three slices of buttered toast and a pile of breakfast potatoes and his body was not overjoyed.

"Because we don't want to be around Jefferson, Jackie," the smallest replied, sinking down. Jackie was not the boys birth name, but instead a curious nickname gifted to him by his closest of friends. The boy who has spoken had his back pressed against the wall, and he crossed his legs as he sat.

"You know," the French boy started, "I don't really see the problem you all 'ave with Thomas," he shrugged and continued leaning against a stall.

The whistling abruptly came to a close, and all heads turned to look at him. "Dude, he's horrible," the eldest started, "like, do you see the way he acts around Alex? He treats him like some sort of dirty scum he found on the bottom of his polished boots."

"The reason he hates me is even worse! Just because I don't have rich parents to go crawling back to for Christmas. He acts like I'm a dirty spot that he doesn't want to touch. Like... Like I'm food at the bottom of the sink, ya know!" Alexander explained, gesticulating as he did so. John, the student who had been nicknamed 'Jackie', leapt from his resting place in the washing basin and patted Alexander on the back gently in a friendly attempt to calm him down. "Sorry for yelling, Laf... It's just... He bugs me so much."

Lafayette shrugged his shoulders, his wine red blazer - part of his uniform forming creases as he did. "I mean, he's targeting you because you're an orphan, non?" Alexander nodded as a silent agreement and response, "well, 'e doesn't know that I am too."

"I completely forgot about that, Laf!" The broad-shouldered, tall boy examined a little too loudly. He found himself being bombarded by rushed hushing. "Sorry, guys," he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Stop apologising, 'Ercules, we know you mean no 'arm," he assured and patted Hercules' shoulder.

"If I meant no harm, then why am I here?" Hercules sighed and shrunk into himself. The other three went quiet, they couldn't answer.

The boarding school was technically called, 'Fredrick's School for Troubled Teens and Youngsters,' but everyone just called it, 'School for Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks.'

Everyone who attended had been removed from public school for one preposterous thing or another. An assortment, ranging from fights to skipping school to just becoming a general nuisance.

Hercules Mulligan had been previously expelled from three schools, for fighting three people and hospitalising two of them. His reputation was ruthless and cutthroat, not afraid to start an attack at any moment. However, he was simply a big softy.

Alexander Hamilton had been ostracised from his school for arguing with the professor, who promptly frog-marched him to the head master, to whom he fought against once more. He was told to leave and not come back after referring to his head master as, "a pompous fool, detecting the frivolous minds of easy moldable youngsters to bend them to his will."

John Laurens was excommunicated from Church, and from his very Catholic school when they discovered his homosexuality. His father had disowned him from home and sent him off to the 'School for Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks,' in the hopes that it would, "return him to his Godly roots and strip him of his male desires for other men." His father, Henry Laurens had accepted the concept that sending him to a school where he would spend 99% of his time with guys and had imagined that it would 'fix' his brain into lusting over women.

And then there was Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Mortier, Marquis de Lafayette. His exclusion was a momentous occasion. His head mistress had discovered the acute, shimmering pocket knife in his satchel, after demanding a look as another child had accused him of threatening him with said weapon. The child had ridiculed his younger brother who had sadly passed away just mere weeks before. So yes, maybe he should've been thrown out of school for that. He goes back and forth, contemplating if what he did was incredibly illegal or, in fact, the right thing to do.

The four knew fine well why the other people were tossed from school, however, no one else knew anything about no one. Asking why another person was attending the boarding fortress was distinctly taboo. Like a horrid, violent invasion of protected privacy. Only if the student felt astonishingly close to you, and trusted you with their life and prized possession would they ever confine in you the reason they attended Fredrick's.

Another point, everyone came from privileged backgrounds, that were somehow ruined. Lafayette had rich parents before they died, and then he had a rich uncle. Then he was rich. John’s parents had piles of money, and then they disowned him. Alexander was fairly middle class, and then their debt skyrocketed when his father abandoned him and his mother passed in his arms. And then there was Hercules. The other three spoke much more articulated than him. He just simply couldn’t. He wasn’t from a bad family, but they most certainly weren’t the most educated they could be.

"Listen, Herc," Alexander inexorably spoke up, offering comfort, "we're all here for one reason or another! I called my professor a sithering idiot, and them the head master a pompous fool, John's gay and Laf, hell, Lafayette threatened someone's life. Lets be honest, we all deserve to be here," he peered up at Laurens, who had retaken his position of roosting on the sink, "apart from Jackie, obviously."

John defended himself and chortled. "Hey, I'm not complaining. Before I had to listen to homophobic slurs all day, now, I can simply be a homo every hour."

Hercules' solid frown tweaked, and he turned to laughter. "Okay, okay, fair enough," He lifted his arms up before slumping them down, "you got me."

"Yeah we did," Lafayette nudged Hercules harshly, which earned him a shove back.

-

His toast lay burnt and uneaten, and half a sausage rolled around his plate depressingly. A metal fork was lazily tossed by his tray, and the red paper napkin was scrunched up on his plate. His seat was barren now, as was the one across from him.

Reticent nattering echoed all over the spiral staircase as two boys clambered upwards towards their shared dorm. Their room was home to eight boys, all of which they both hated, except for each other and one pupil, a young male Aaron Burr from New Jersey and Thomas supposed that Lafayette wasn’t too awful.

Thomas pushed the oak dormitory door open with a dig. He went on speaking, but was silenced by his friend flapping his hand in front of his face. "James-"

"Shush! Can't you hear that?" James spoke, "there's people here..."

Muffled exclamations voiced themselves from behind the bathroom gateway. Thomas crept over and pressed his ear up to the carved antique door as every ounce of his sixteen year old attention span focusesd in on eavesdropping.

There was a blast of flat laughter that exploded from the room, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are they saying?” James breathed serenely as he watched Thomas run his fingers over the door handle.

“Quiet, Jemmy,” Thomas instructed in a low voice, “they’re talking now.”

A despicably mocking articulation voiced itself from beyond the door. “Oh yes, I mustn’t! For I shall mess us my sheep’s wool hair! No! Do not touch that! It was sent to me from a Gucci store from my father!” It was in a false Southern accent.

“Holy crap, Laf! I don’t like how much that sounds like him!” The familiar boisterous tones of Hercules Mulligan exploded out the cracks in the door. “Okay, okay, John your shot.”

He heard the rambunctious crackling of knuckles, and a clearing of throats. “Hello, y’all! Rootin’ tootin’! I’m from the fucking South where the grass grows green and I’m better than y’all! Because I’m Jefferson, and I hate you if you don’t have a rich father!”

James, who had been tuned in to the harmful conversations past the door, soared upwards towards him. “Tommy, don’t-“ he muttered harshly. James had been friends with Thomas since the very beginning, he had been there to witness every hardship and every tantalising moment where the world stopped spinning. He was by the teens side throughout each adversity, and would comfort his best friend without exception.

Yet Thomas didn’t listen. He shoved the door open unceremoniously, the sheer force blowing a gust towards the bed drapes. His stance remained strong and rigid as four pairs of brown and hazel sprinkled eyes darted towards him. With the pupils that burned into his skull, from both in front of him, and James who had settled behind him, Thomas composed himself. He ran a hand through his hair before taking it upon himself to stride back to his bed.

His lips remained stuck together as if to be two birds of a single feather. Alexander looks at his friends, and they rise from their resting places, stiff joints cracking like grandmas getting up from their nap in an armchair. Their stomachs rumble hungrily, screaming for nutrients, but they push past it to ignore it. James looks back at his accomplice, who is rummaging through a antiquated, walnut duffle-bag. He can see Thomas’ look of determination as he pulls his hand from the storage unit and wanders back to the bathroom, past the gang who was previously been loitering in the room. In his hand, is a egg-shell painted cardboard packet of sorts, and a rectangular glass lighter. The lighter is black as a cold winters night, and Thomas carries these into the bathroom with him.

“Thomas!” James exclaimed as he spotted the two items. One of the many reasons Thomas was at the boarding school. The bathroom door slammed closed and the all too familiar sound of a clicking lighter.

The four friends glance at each other, sharing a mutual moment of what the hell is happening, as James pounds on the oak door. “Thomas, I swear to god, open the door. I won’t let you do this again!”

“What’s going on?” Alexander hissed from the corner of his mouth. His dashing attempt to be inaudibly failed, as a result of his naturally vociferous voice it failed. Madison’s head rotated to face the not-so-fantastic four with a choleric grimace.

Lafayette opened his mouth to begin explaining, yet no words escaped. Only a brief swept of breath as he fidgeted with his own fingers, bending them in ways that really shouldn’t be possible.

“Why were you talking about him?” James spoke softly, as if the delinquents were toddlers who needed to be lulled off into slumber.

Alexander shifted on his heels. Why this small student was so intimidating fascinated him. James was always a perpetually timid youngster. Someone who sat at the very back of the class, head constantly bent down over his work, hunched and tired. Yet now, his eyes glimmered with rage and every inch of his body shook with unsheathed emotional torment.

“We-“ Alexander started with confidence, but trailed off quickly into inaudible - protecting himself - mumbling.

James rattles his knuckles off the door again. "I won't let you get expelled from another school!" He exhaled and fiddled with the handle. "Just, open the door... We can talk about this." He grovelled desperately. The door handle moved, and Thomas deliberated from behind the gateway. As the wood cracked open, James spread into a grin.

Thomas exhaled smoke downwards, blowing it down to the very depths of hell. "What?"

"You're smoking," John observed with a light shudder. He planted himself on Alexanders bed, tugging at the wrinkled sheets and grasping for the cream pillow, for the scarlet cover of the cushion had been stripped from it, and thrown somewhere across the room, it had been missing for days. Alex theorised that Thomas had disposed of it out the window, or in a garbage can in the main courtyard. Either way, Alexander and the students residing within that dormitory were lucky that a staff member hadn't inspected their room just yet. If it was found that articles of bedding had been cascaded like dirty wash paper then a worthy punishment would be awarded.

“Am I?!” Thomas took the lot cigarette away from his lips and glared at it. His eyes narrowed, “am I really!?”

“Yo, there’s no need to talk to him like that!” Hercules piped up with a stare. “He didn’t do nothin’ to you,” he spat.

Thomas rolled his eyes and took another quick puff of the cigarette before disposing of it in a sink, and running the cold water tap. “Yeah, he said nothing sure.

“Stop,” Alexander insisted, beginning to rise. He observes as Thomas struts into the dorm and throws his cigarettes packet and lighter onto his bed, before dropping down on James'.

Lafayette hastily crept over to beside Thomas and sighed. "My apologies, Thomas," he confessed, "it was wrong of us to... Eh.... Talk bad about you." He stumbled over his words, a bit like a newborn calf taking its first wobbly steps.

"I'm like, 99.99% sure smoking really breaks school guidelines," Hercules chimed in, twittering away in the congregated background.

"Yeah? Why else do you think I'm here? Because I want to be?" Thomas jeered, messing with his hair absentmindedly.

"Well, because your family bathes in pots of melted gold and dines on silver platters served by their monkey butler," Alexander prompted immediately, the words sliding off his tongue like venom before he could halt them.

Thomas and James scoffed in unison. "I'm here because I was expelled for drug use," the jaws fell to the old floors, "weed, mostly. Over the counter painkillers and anti depressants. That sort of stuff, ya know?" He shrugged, so nonchalantly.

“Drugs?!” John exclaimed in utter shock. “How did you even get a hold of them?!”

“Well,” Thomas gridlocked in his tracks, hitting the breaks on his brain, “why am I telling you this?” He sneered at himself, fanning his face in his own stupidity.

“Because... you want someone else to trust?” James mumbled, “other than me...”

Thomas’ face fell and he grit his teeth in annoyance as he came to terms with James’ unsettling words. He ran a tattered hand through his mop of sheep's wool. He remained mute and simply made a random hand gesture.

“James,” Hercules breathed and was quiet for one of the first time ever. Or ever since the others had met him, “why’d you get sent here? What’s the deal?” They all gasped, the taboo had been broken, and Hercules graced his eyes around the room, his pupils widening with terror. “Wait, no! I didn’t- it’s... it’s just, you don’t seem like the person to be sent to Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks school.”

Madison blinked rapidly in thought. “No, no, it’s fine...” he took a large inhale, “I was bullied a lot... and one day I just... flipped. I attacked them when they followed me to class through the halls. The kid got away with a slap on the wrist and I was expelled. Then sent here...”

“Yeah, just after I was expelled, James came after me. Missed me that much?” Thomas chortled, stretching his arms and for just a moment, his arms and head placement made him look vaguely like a cactus in the dry Arizona sun.

“Not really, class was much quieter. I did lose my only protection though, because someone decided to get high on marijuana in the boys bathroom!” James really emphasised each syllable of the word, ‘someone.’

Thomas frowned lamentably. His sighs echoed around the room. “In fairness!” He stopped, “I actually can’t justify it. I was just being stupid and impulsive okay?”

Alexander cackled away loudly in the back before taking enough initiative to muffle it with his hand.

“Oh you can’t laugh, ‘amilton! You swore your professor out!” Lafayette teased with a snicker and Hercules let out a soft, ‘ohhh!’ punctuating Lafayette’s words.

“Yeah? And you whipped a knife on someone!” Alexander yelled back playfully. Hercules continued to laugh.

“Oh, shut up, ‘Erc! You can’t say anything! Two people in ‘ospital who?” Lafayette jerked, progressively getting himself more and more worked up. His cheeks were glowing a lipstick red and his eyes darkened with fury.

“‘Two people in hospital, who?’” Hercules mocked in a false French accent. It was awfully stereotypical, and fake as hell. But it annoyed Lafayette to the point where he leapt from his bed and pointed pressingly in his best friends direction.

“Lay off!” John jumped up and separated the two with his arms. “Okay! We all did things wrong, like... I disappointed god!” John beamed with a singsong voice, pleading to cheer those up.

“Disappointed god?” Thomas questioned pressingly, his voice ripe with curiosity.

“I was kicked from Catholic school for my ‘deadly homosexuality that could infect others’.” John chortled and moved away from Lafayette and Hercules, adjusting to the fact that the tension in the room was still thick enough to be sliced with a knife.

“Oh damn,” James whispered mistily to himself, scratching at a scab in his forehead, located just about his right ear.

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Oh no! I’ve been infected by the gay!” He yelled and Thomas exploded with laughter. It made Alex smile, and realise that Thomas, in fact, had a nice, boisterous chuckle.

“You can’t pray away the gay,” Hercules spoke in his often loud voice, smirking for the world to see once more.

“We can sure as hell try!” Lafayette knelt on his bed and placed his hands in a prayer motion. “Be gone, homo!”

John fell backwards dramatically and flopped to the floor. His hand touched his forehead as if fainted.

Alex snorted.

The dormitory door clanged with the pound of a fist. “Get to class, boys!” The familiar booming and authoritative tone of Head Master Washington exploded into the dorm.

“Sorry, Mr Washington!” Alexander apologises with a grit of his teeth.

“Suck up,” Thomas mouths and stands, leaving with James hot on his polished heels.

Lafayette stood and nodded towards the ajar door. “Wanna go hang in the courtyard?”

“And risk getting detention?” Hercules scoffed, “obviously.”

“Let’s fucking go!” John exclaimed, picking up his boots and shoving them on his feet.

From the slightly open door they could hear a yell. “Thomas, I swear to god!” And then the muffled reply, ‘what? She despises both of us, let’s just hang out in the courtyard!’

“Sounds like someone else is thinking about skiving class!” Lafayette sniggered, hoisting the door wide open and heading out. “Coming?” Hercules nodded and rushed after him.

Alexander stuck his fist in the air and clapped. “Anything to skip Mrs Reynolds class!”And they ran down the stairs, leaping down the stairs two or three at a time. It was dangerous.

And they loved it.

[thatqrfanblogger]

Valentine’s Fic #3 — “Bad Habits”

Hamburr fic (mentions of Burrdosia throughout)

Obligatory PSA b/c this is goddamn tumblr:  Smoking bad.  Don’t do it.  (But seriously, I don’t even do it, I just know people who do.)

--

He’s never cared for parties.  He almost didn’t go to this one, except that one, he needs to schmooze Washington in a context where he’s more relaxed, and thus more likely to listen, and two, he’s been told by his supervisor that he needs to be more of a “team player.”  The latter makes no sense to him, because he’s been nothing but agreeable with everyone despite how difficult they’re being and how determined they seem to be to dislike him, but perhaps he’s been playing the wrong game.  Well, here he is, at a function that, given the paltry decorations, is apparently meant to be all play and no work, and he’s fucking game.

And yet he is still goddamn losing.

Washington spent their entire interaction distracted and subtly signaling to him that he’d rather be anywhere else, before conveniently being called away from Aaron mid-sentence, one of his teammates dubbed him “the worst” when he tried to make simple conversation, his supervisor told him, “Lighten up, it’s a party,” as if he isn’t aware of that, as if he didn’t show up here for the purpose of showing her that he could in the first place, and Theodosia—

Theodosia’s here with her husband.  They’re getting along again.  Which he supposes is good for her, even if he firmly believes the man isn’t. A belief he holds because of things she’s told him, not because of his personal relationship with her, he is perfectly capable of separating his feelings from his beliefs, and he told her so himself.  

(“That’s part of the problem,” she’d responded, and refused to clarify when he asked her what that meant.  Which means he has no means to fix whatever went wrong between them, and he wonders if perhaps that was the real point.  Perhaps she’d rather fix things with her husband than with him.  (Perhaps she’s right.))

He steps outside for a smoke.  Bad habit, he knows, but so is Theodosia, and since she isn’t about to alleviate his stress levels tonight, this will have to do.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Good God.  He’s out here to get away from stress; why is its human form choosing to accompany him out here of all places?

“Good evening, Alexander,” he says, not daring to look, “Shouldn’t you be out there?  With your friends?”  He tries to keep his voice friendly, but he can’t help the knife that slips out on the word friends.  It’s one of many edges Alexander’s gained over him without even trying.

(Not that he doesn’t try.  Good God does he try.  He tries Aaron’s patience every day.)

“I needed a break,” he says simply, stepping right beside him, unnecessarily close, as he blows out a smoke cloud that mixes with Aaron’s.

“You needed a break,” Aaron repeats, “That’s it?  No verbal essay?  No six-hour speech?  No long, tangent-filled rant about why you needed one and what asshole you happen to hate this hour?”

“Not tonight,” Alexander says, and there’s something strangely somber about his tone, almost pensive.

Hmm.  That wasn’t the response Aaron was expecting.  Normally he would’ve said something snarky about Aaron’s supposed inability to voice an opinion, as if ability were the same as action.  Is there something wrong?

He dares a glance at Alexander, and it’s more transparent when he’s seeing him, seeing the dejected body language, far less energetic than usual, the deep sigh as he exhales more smoke, the distant look in his eyes, reflective, just as the stars reflect off his eyes in turn, the white starlight accentuating the deep brown and—

Aaron quickly looks forward again.  As he brings his cigarette to his lips, he feels Alexander’s gaze on him, and tries to convince himself that the hot, uncomfortable feeling in his lungs is just his body rejecting the nicotine, reminding him not to do this again, but he feels trapped in this somehow, in more ways than one.

“I heard,” Alexander says, uncharacteristically slow, “you had a special someone on the side, Burr.”

“Had, yes.  Past tense.”

“Ah.”

Breathe in, breathe out.

“So I take it you didn’t bring her with you tonight, then.”

“No,” Aaron says, turning back to Alexander with a hard glare, “She brought her husband, actually.”

“Oh, shit!”  Alexander laughs, more nervous than amused by the sound of it, his smile fading when he takes in Aaron’s expression.  “Sorry. That… that can’t be easy for you.” His eyes are so sincere, as if he really does feel for him, almost as if he cares about Aaron.

Which is ridiculous.  Of course he doesn’t.  And Aaron does not owe him any more information.  He turns away.

“So what about you?  What are you doing out here?” he asks.  Not because he wants to know, just because… because.  It’s only fair that Alexander share, since he dragged it out of Aaron.  And if he starts in on one of his long speeches again, perhaps Aaron can tune him out as usual and they can go back to normal, instead of… whatever’s going on right now.

“Aaron… do you think I deserve to be here?”  

That was… more vulnerability than Aaron was prepared for.  But well, he is the one who asked.

“Of course.”

“You don’t… you don’t think it’s just because of Washington?”

“Well,” Aaron says, “none of us would be here if Washington didn’t at least tolerate our presence, so he’s certainly got something to do with it.”

“No, I mean—  Never mind. Forget it.”

Aaron’s cigarette is burning low, but he doesn’t want to leave, not just yet. He considers lighting another, but he’s not sure if that’s what he wants.

(Perhaps it’s better not to be sure; whenever he is sure what he wants, it evades him.  Perhaps it’s better to never want at all.)

Fingers brush against his, and with a start, he realizes it’s Alexander’s hand, dangerously close to his own.

“Sorry,” Alexander says softly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He turns.  Alexander is staring right at him, like he wants something.  Aaron can’t be sure what it is, but his eyes, his eyes pin him with this questioning, curious, and almost desperate look.  Alexander is searching for something Aaron isn’t sure if he can give, reassurance perhaps.  

(Or perhaps something else entirely, but Aaron will keep that thought to himself, Aaron will get his nerves under control and treat Alexander like the nuisance he is, instead of giving into some bodily reaction that is probably just withdrawals from Theodosia, nothing more.)

“You work very hard, Alexander.  Perhaps too hard sometimes, but I do not doubt your dedication.  And anyone else who does is fooling themselves.” The words come out stiff and awkward and stilted, lacking his usual smoothness, but he’s doing his best to put verbal distance between them, everything feels too close and too fast, his heart is beating too fast, and his feet are rooted where he stands, gaze glued to Alexander’s beautiful, captivating eyes.

Perhaps he is fooling himself, when he tells himself that this is just about missing Theodosia, that what he’s feeling is nerves, that he hasn’t had the thoughts racing through his head right now, that he hasn’t wondered about this since the moment Alexander tapped him on the shoulder and asked him his name and stared at him with the utmost wonder and admiration, as if starstruck by Aaron’s very presence.

Alexander has long since gotten over his hero-worship, but he sees a glimpse of that look in his eyes tonight, and he can’t look away, can’t help but want to believe he hasn’t gotten over it entirely, can’t help but want.

Alexander looks down and smiles, almost bashful.  His hand brushes Aaron’s again, but this time Alexander holds on, laces their fingers together, and steps closer.  “Someone said I was sleeping my way to the top.”

“Ridiculous,” Aaron says, trying for a scoff but too breathless to fool anyone, even himself.

Alexander looks up at him again, eyes dark and wanting.  “I’ve actually never slept with any of my coworkers before.”  His eyes flit in the direction of the party for a moment, perhaps to indicate Theodosia, who’s probably more than enjoying herself with her husband right now, not even thinking about Aaron, but then his gaze returns to Aaron’s and he smiles at him, teasing.  “Any advice?”

Breathe in, breathe out.  “Don’t get caught.”  In, out. “Wait until you’re somewhere far away, where they won’t see you.”  Even as he says this, though, he squeezes Alexander’s hand tight, not wanting to let go of this, not wanting to let him go.

Alexander isn’t smiling anymore.  “I don’t know if I can do that.” 

His gaze is hard.  Aaron swallows.

Fuck it.  “Me neither,” Aaron says, and closes the distance between them. 

When their lips touch, Aaron feels like he can breathe again, breathes in Alexander’s sweat and scent and cologne and whatever the hell he’s put in his hair, which he grabs and pulls with his free hand.  Alexander moans and shudders against him, and when his own free hand touches the small of Aaron’s back, it feels like being struck by lightning.  Alexander is a strike of lightning, more raw and electric than anything he’s ever touched, and it pulses through Aaron as he moves his hand up his spine, up, up, up, until at last he cups the back of Aaron’s neck.

They catch their breath for a moment, resting their foreheads against each other, when the door slides open.

“You know,” says his supervisor’s voice, sounding amused, “when I told you to lighten up, this isn’t quite what I had in mind, but whatever works.”  She laughs, which in turn makes Alexander laugh, and Aaron joins in despite himself.  

Aaron turns to her and quips, “I think this might be the most fun I’ve ever had at a party.”

His supervisor laughs again.  “Good to hear it.  Well, don’t let me interrupt.”  She goes back inside.

Alexander breathes in Aaron’s ear, and the electricity courses through him again. “Should we take this somewhere else?”

“My place or yours?”

Alexander beams, eyes wide and shining and smiling along with his reddened, wet mouth.  Aaron remembers that they’re still holding hands when Alexander pulls him, and for tonight, Aaron lets him.

(Only for tonight, he tells himself.  This is not going to become another habit.)

[jgroffdaily]

With Frozen 2 now playing in theaters, I recently sat down with Jonathan Groff to talk about making the highly anticipated sequel. During the wide-ranging conversation, Groff talked about when he knew they were going to make the film, how the film pushes away from the norm by not having a “villain” and instead features the main characters grappling with their own growth and change, Kristoff’s ‘80s inspired song that has adults laughing out loud, how the filmmakers have flipped what the male love interest is going through by having him struggling with how to communicate to the woman he loves, what it will take to get the cast to perform all the Frozen music on tour, what song he was sad to see not make the finished film, and more. In addition, he talked about the status of Mindhunter season 3, if he’s had any pressure to get on social media, if he thinks Frozen 3 will happen, the difference between the West End and Broadway theater audiences, and a lot more.

Check out what Jonathan Groff had to say below.

Collider: So let’s jump into the most important question.

JONATHAN GROFF: Okay.

When do you start filming Mindhunter season three?

GROFF: (laughs) I don’t know. TBD.

I know [David] Fincher’s making a movie, so that’s going to take him out for at least eight months.

GROFF: Yeah, we couldn’t do it ‘til after he was done with that.

Yeah. It’s still not fast enough. I saw Holt [McCallany] recently and mentioned that to him as well, and I basically have said repeatedly I need 50 episode seasons.

GROFF: Oh my God. And you know that he and I would be so down. We’re ready. We’re ready. Whenever the call comes, we’re ready to jump.

Yes. I just want to start the interview off with the most important thing.

GROFF: I love you for that.

Yeah, listen. I love that show, and all of us on the site love that show.

GROFF: Oh, good.

It’s so good.

GROFF: Good.

I can keep on going, but I’m going to stop. So, jumping into why I get to talk to you, first, let me start by saying congratulations. The pressure, or the difficulty of making a great sequel to such a beloved movie is really hard, and you guys did it. Do you know where you are today and what day in the promotion process it is?

GROFF: I do.

Because you guys have been going nonstop.

GROFF: I jumped on. So the group went to Toronto, but I’m actually doing a revival of Little Shop of Horrors right now off-Broadway, and so I know that this is day three of my promotion experience, because I left the show on Sunday. I got here on Monday. Our first thing was on Wednesday… Oh no. So, it’s day four. I already messed it up. It’s day four. (laughs)

So you must’ve put it in your contract for Little Shop that you… Disney must’ve said you have to be able to promote?

GROFF: Yes. In May when the director of Little Shop, Michael Mayer, called and asked me to do it, I said, “Oh, I’m not doing anything this fall, except I have to have off for these two weeks.” And they said yes, so they knew it from the very beginning. They hired an amazing actor named Gideon Glick, who I did Spring Awakening with back in the day, to replace me for these two weeks.

Have you done anything on the West End?

GROFF: I have, actually.

My question is, and I’ve been asking this of all the actors I talked to who do theater, do you notice a difference between the audiences in the West End and Broadway?

GROFF: Yes. The biggest, I think, difference [in the West End] would be less vocal, less standing up, less standing ovations. It’s just a cultural difference in that Americans are more apt to jump up and clap and be more vocal throughout the course of any given performance, and the Brits are a little more reserved.

Do the Brits ever do the standing ovation at the end?

GROFF: Yes.

So when they do it, they mean it?

GROFF: A hundred percent, and the two times that I’ve been in the audience of a West End show where it’s felt like an American audience was The Book of Mormon and Hamilton.

Oh yeah.

GROFF: Yeah.

And you felt that energy?

GROFF: Yeah. I was like, “Well, I could it be in New York right now. This is how crazy these shows are making the audience, even in London.” I remember also Lin [Manuel Miranda] telling me that the difference between — because I did Hamilton on Broadway for almost a year. And then they took it to London, and he said that it was the same reaction except when Aaron Burr sings, “I’m keeping her bed warm while her husband is away” randomly in his song Wait For It, it gets a huge laugh in London. Never had a laugh in America. There’s the one difference between the British and the American audience.

That’s so interesting.

GROFF: So bizarre, right?

It’s also very bizarre.

GROFF: I know.

Switching gears completely — I appreciate you sharing the theater stuff — how early on did you know that the sequel was going to get made, and how long did you have to keep it a secret?

GROFF: I didn’t know early on at all. Probably a year and a half after the first one I found out that they were making a second one, and it was sort of like, they announced that they were making, they asked us to do it and they announced it sort of all at the same time, so I never felt like I was really keeping a secret.

Oh that’s not bad.

GROFF: No, not bad at all.

My favorite part of this movie is, besides the animation and everything, I love that there’s just no villain, that there’s no guy or girl trying to get her powers or come between them.

GROFF: Yeah.

It’s so refreshing.

GROFF: Yeah.

And it’s really so well done. Can you sort of talk about that aspect of the film?

GROFF: Yeah, I think that really, ultimately, the biggest challenge sort of that each of the characters have in kind of a general way is grappling with their own self growth and change. So Idina [Menzel] is scared of, but excited to follow, the voice that’s calling to her, and that sort of trickles down then into all of the characters. So Anna’s learning how to let her sister go, and let her sister do her own thing, and leave her to her own devices to survive. Olaf is asking really challenging existential questions about life as he gets older.

Of course.

GROFF: And Kristoff is ready to take his relationship to the next level with Anna, but he’s really not good at communicating and expressing himself. Then halfway through the movie is given an amazing ’80s inspired rock jam to be able to do so. (laughs)

That song — little kids are not going to get it. When I saw it last night, the adults in the audience were laughing hard.

GROFF: Right.

So talk a little bit about how that song really plays for adults.

GROFF: Yeah, totally. Bobby and Kristen Lopez told me that they were going to try and get a song in for my character in the movie. I thought, “That’s so nice of them to say that, but it just seems… How are you going to make the mountain man sing? I want to hear the girls sing. I want to hear Idina belt out a hundred numbers. Who wants to hear Kristoff sing?” I couldn’t figure out story-wise, because they’re so passionate and invested in storytelling as opposed to just writing catchy songs. And they thought of this amazing arc with Kristoff of him trying to propose and not being able to, and then ultimately getting frustrated by his inability to do so and busting out on this ’80s song, which I think that a lot of dudes, particularly parents of the kids that are coming to see the show, like you said, can relate to that genre and that time period in the ’80s as a way to really let it go and self-express. And Kristen Anderson-Lopez mentioned earlier, they wrote Let It Go for Elsa in the first movie and it inspired all these girls to feel their power. On the flip side of that, in the second movie, here is a song for a male character that perhaps will invite boys to get in touch with their feelings. Sven says, “You feel what you feel and your feelings are real. Come on Kristoff, let down your guard.” And so if little boys all over the world are hearing that, hopefully they’ll be inspired to express themselves.

It is pretty crazy to realize the first movie has been seen — I can’t even imagine the amount of people around the world that have actually seen the first movie, repeatedly.

GROFF: Yeah, right.

And to realize that this movie is going to be seen by maybe even more people.

GROFF: Yeah.

The power of the messaging in these movies is more important than I think a lot of people realize, and having that positive message… like your character is so different than what is normally written for the male love interest, if you will.

GROFF: Absolutely. I mean, that’s what I loved also about the first movie of Frozen is that the true love in the movie is between sisters as opposed to a woman looking for a man’s love, and even in the first movie, Kristoff, one of his lines in the beginning to Anna is, “You can’t marry a man you just met.” Whereas in all the old sort of Disney fairytales, it’s love at first sight, and one day my prince will come. So in the first movie, they sort of inverted those ideas, and made it more modern, and more contemporary, and more feminist. And they’ve done the same thing with this movie and with all of these characters, and particularly with Kristoff. Normally the girl is pining after the man, and the man leaves, and then she sings an emotional song, and this is the reverse, where Kristoff is struggling with how to communicate to the woman he loves. Then she goes off on an adventure without him, and he’s left alone to sing about his feelings. So very cleverly, the filmmakers have reversed that in this movie.

A hundred percent. I brought this up with a lot of other people. What will it take for you guys as a group to either do the Hollywood Bowl or go on tour where you play all the songs from the first Frozen and Frozen 2, as well as the cut songs that never made the movie?

GROFF: Yes, sign me up. Sign me up. I would do it in a second. All they would have to do is ask. I would do it in a second.

Okay, so you’re receptive to this?

GROFF: Absolutely.

Can you talk about some of the songs that you — because obviously Kristen and Bobby told me that the ratio on this one was that they only said they wrote seven songs that didn’t make the finished version, and on the first one they wrote like 2- something.

GROFF: For the first movie they wrote 20 songs?

But it makes sense though, because the first one they’re still figuring out the voices.

GROFF: The world of everything. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.

Yeah. So like you’re writing, and writing, and writing to find the voices and find the movie, and in the sequel, they know the voices and the characters, so it makes sense to have written less —

GROFF: Yeah, there’s only so many places it could possibly go. It’s not like anything could happen, because the characters have already established who they are.

Did you have a song or two that didn’t make the finished film that you were sad to see go?

GROFF: I recorded a song while we were shooting Mindhunter, and I was in Pittsburgh, and I drove to New York on the weekend to record this song called “I Want to Get This Right.” And it was when in the story Kristoff was going to try and propose to Anna at the very beginning. It was not an ’80s jam. It was almost like a Jackson 5 kind of, like, uptempo R&B song. It was really cute, and I loved it, and I loved singing it, and it was Kristoff’s song, and then it became sort of a Kristoff-Anna duet song. I recorded it in New York over a weekend, and really felt like, “Oh wow. This is a huge part of the story that he’s trying to propose and he’s singing to her and it’s this proposal, so I don’t think the song is going to get cut, because it’s really like a part of the narrative of the story.” Then a couple months later, I come into a recording session, this time it was in Pittsburgh, and they were like, “So we changed the story and we cut your song. But we’re gonna write you another song, and it’s going to be an ’80s jam where Kristoff really, like, lives in his feelings.” I thought, “Oh, that’s so nice of them to say that, but surely that’s the most absurd idea I’ve ever heard and that will never happen.” And then it did.

Right, exactly. It all works out, because that song is fantastic.

GROFF: Yeah. Right, right.

Mindhunter — I can’t believe I get to bring this back. It’s a really great performance you have to do, and how much do you sort of submerge into that reality when you’re filming? Are you able to sort of shut it off and turn on Frozen, if you will, on like a weekend or on a weeknight when you have to go record something? That has to be challenging.

GROFF: The thing that’s similar about, I can’t believe there is a similarity, but the thing that is similar about Mindhunter and Frozen is that with Mindhunter, you’re working for David Fincher, which is like the ultimate safety net. You just know that you can do anything, you can try anything, you can throw it all up against the wall, and he’s going to go in and put together something great. So there’s this safety net as a performer that allows you to take risks and do things because you know he’s got this. You know?

Sure.

GROFF: Then on the flip side with Frozen, I just trust Jen and Chris and Bobby and Kristen so implicitly. They cut the song. It was a great song that I recorded, and they cut it because it didn’t work for the movie. They are very ego-less about the work that they produce, and they’re all very committed to the best possible story they can tell, and so in the same way in going to work for Frozen, it’s like I just make myself available to them. I just try and be as creative as I possibly can with the stuff that they give me, and throw it all up against the wall and see what sticks, and let them put it together and make whatever they want to make.

One of the things I want to bring up is that you are, unlike a lot of your cohorts, not on social at all. Or am I wrong about this?

GROFF: No, you’re correct.

Have you not had any pressure from a publicist or an agent? “You know, if you want to do Instagram, it wouldn’t be that bad.”

GROFF: No, I haven’t. I really haven’t. My agents and my publicists, they all, thankfully, get me, and so they totally understand that it’s just not my jam.

Sure.

GROFF: I feel like in order for it to be great, and positive, and productive, you have to really want to invest in it, and I hate how much I look at my phone already with text messaging, and so I just didn’t want to add another element to that.

Do you ghost on some of the social formats?

GROFF: No, I really don’t.

Really?

GROFF: I know, isn’t that crazy?

Because a lot of people say, “Oh, I’m not on Instagram.” But then they’ll be like, “But I ghost on it. I have a private account that nobody —

GROFF: No, I really don’t. I really don’t. Isn’t that weird?

No, I actually think it’s very healthy.

GROFF: Okay. It’s sort of ignorant. In certain ways ignorance is bliss where I’m sort of unaware of opinions and things like that, because I’m just not on social media at all.

Look, I think it��s an unhealthy obsession when you see people constantly taking selfies in every possible place just to… It makes me crazy, but that’s just me.

GROFF: It’s weird. Ironically, in the theater at Little Shop when we were in tech, I was the one with my phone out videotaping and taking pictures of everything, because I was like, “This is so much fun and I want to capture it.” And everyone is saying, “Why are you taking pictures? You’re not even on social media.” And I’m like, “Oh no, this is just for me to look at later.” So I do take a lot of pictures. I just keep them to myself or I text them to my friends or whatever.

So I have to ask you. Do you think in your gut feeling — because I know they have not talked about a Frozen 3 — but in another five years that there could be another?

GROFF: I mean, after the first one, I couldn’t even have imagined a Frozen 2, to be honest. When they said they were making a second one, I was thrilled to go back to work, but there wasn’t a piece of me that could have comprehended how you further the story. And then Jen and Chris and Bobby and Kristen came up with, I think, it’s a true masterpiece, and there’s never been a [theatrical animated] musical sequel made ever to a Disney film. So they broke ground with that. I think I would do anything that they do. I’m just following their lead.

Sure.

GROFF: I have no gut feeling about whether or not there will be a third one. I would just do whatever they asked me to do.

On that note, congratulations.

GROFF: Thank you.

[txdkamen]

Hey, you theater kid! Yeah you there singing and emoting your heart out to a slime tutorial, this is a challenge! What are the top 10 musical songs you'd want to preform?✨ (In this scenario the rest of the play can be as irrelevant as you want it to be & you are granted the perfect opportunity, set, voice range and other skills for it)

wowwww i really, physically, felt so called out by the first sentence right there 😂😂😂❤️ okay, here you go, my akin fellow…oh! and also i’t trying to pick max. one song per musical, because i don’t want to end up in a situation where i pick like 5 song from one musical and then realise that there’s not enough space for all the other great songs :( 

this is going to be… long :)

***

–  No Good Deed – Wicked 👉(no words. gimme this. gimme gimme)

– All You Wanna Do – Six 👉 (is it horrible? yup. does it make me almost cry every time? yes. do i love music that awakens emotion in me and this is exactly a song like that? yes. i’m picking this one)

– That’s How You Know – Enchanted 👉 (i loooooooove this song it puts me in such a good mood spining around the room on a sunny morning making pancakes? this is my go to song for such times)

– The Nicest Kids in Town – Hairspray 👉 (but like without the n-word)

– Dead Girl Walking (Reprise) – Heathers 👉 (but i want to be like… all parts 😂 veronica, jd and cheerleader ensemble akjdfbh)

– Prologue: Into the Woods – Into the Woods 👉 (i mean…  one part would be ok but you said other skills sooooo all parts & characters for this one as well dsjkh pls don’t @ me, i know i cannNot make decisions, but if i actually HAD to pick one then either little red riding hood, the little lad with the cow or the baker’s wife but uhh cinderella is nice too ok no i can’t pick)

– You’re The One That I Want – Grease 👉 (danny’s part. the only reason behind this is just because his first verse is 24/7 stuck in my head. if edward cullen would be my roommate, he would listen to “i got chiiIIIIILLLLS theY’re multiplYinnnnG and i’m looooOOOOOooOOSIng controoOOooOLLL” nonstop i swear)

– Alexander Hamilton – Hamilton 👉 (okay it was really hard to pick one hamilton song but in the end just went with this because hhhhh spex feels… our opening night would’ve been in 5 days 😭)

– Gotta Go My Own Way – High School Musical 2 👉 (although i’m a sharpay & ryan stan and don’t care about troy and gabriella, i am too in love with the “wHAT ABOUT US? WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH” dialogue)

– Lay All Your Love On Me – Mamma Mia! 👉 (so mamma mia was also a hard one to pick only one song, but this is what i ended up on, also amanda seyfried in the movie umm if i could radiate that energy??? would be awesome)

***

and… you know because it was so hard not to pick multiple songs from one musical (rule set by myself, i know), here’s some honourable mentions:

- Our Love Is God, Heathers

- Meant To Be Yours, Heathers

- (everything, mamma mia)

- (too many here, hamilton, but also i kinda loove Aaron Burr, Sir, i just love the progress but especially the first half of the song, can communicating in a way that sounds like Aaron Burr, Sir become a norm? i’ve been addicted for too long)

- Mama, I’m A Big Girl Now, Hairspray

- Ladies’ Choice, Hairspray

- Good Morning, Baltimore, Hairspray

- Welcome to 60s, Hairspray (wow there’s a lot of hairspray songs here)

- As Long As You’re Mine, Wicked (but like, Fiyero’s parts)

***

and umm i also like animation musicals so i’ll just put a few here, idk why they needed a category of their own:

- What’s This?, Nightmare Before Christmas

- Kidnap the Sandy Claws, Nightmare Before Christmas (don’t @ me pls, also idk which one of them, clone me and gimme all)

- Poor Unfortunate Souls, The Little Mermaid

- I See The Light, Tangled (Flynn’s parts)

- Mother Knows Best (Reprise), Tangled