carolinabxtch

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Reblog to drop jk rowling into an active volcano

#gladly.

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Tell me an inside joke between you and a friend, without context.

#what just happened

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just making it dead clear that this blog does not support russia's invasion of ukraine, however also fuck off with that shit if you are demonising regular russian civilians who have nothing to do with this and didnt want a war just as much as everyone else did. politicians are not an excuse for your xenophobia.

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Louis @ Indianapolis

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Vancouver, 06/03/2022

#he’s so skkskkssk

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James Bolivar Manson (1879 - 1945) Michaelmas Daisies (ca.1923)

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HAPPY VALENTINE’s DAy TO YOU TOO!!! I LOVE YOU <333

#ally answers

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Hamilton: ask me why I love you

Laurens: is this a trap?

Hamilton: just ask

Laurens: why do you love-

Hamilton, pulling up a slideshow: I’m glad you asked!

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just some boy besties plantronically dancing (tap for quality. and sorry for the reupload there was a mistake that was going to bug me if I didn't fix it)

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Alexander, pointing: May I sit there?

John: That's my lap

Alexander: That doesn't answer my question, John.

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Laurens: They say you can't love someone unless you love yourself first.

Laurens: Bullshit.

Laurens: I have never loved myself.

Laurens: But Alexander?

Laurens: Oh, god.

Laurens: I love him so much I forgot what hating myself felt like.

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Alexander: FIGHT ME, YOU UGLY ASS PUNK!

John: *cheering him on*

George, pinching his nose: At least try to sound slightly sophisticated when you threaten someone?

John: Dost thou wish to engage in a duel, my good bITCH?!

George:

George: Somehow that is so much worse.

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So how’s a bout single dad John Laurens au???… yeah. He’s Philip’s dad… yup.

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Lullaby

Only one candle was lit up. The flame flickered gently, surrounded by the thick darkness of the room. The way it shone, resisting its ambience, not yielding despite the pressure - under such circumstances, the poor stump was the greatest symbol of rebellion. Or at least that was how John saw it though eyes fogged with exhaustion.

He was pretending to be asleep but instead of it, he watched the light reflect in Alexander’s eyes as he was writing on his travel desk on their bed. The way the fire played around Alexander’s pupils seemed like his nature. He was the fire, and if lost control over, he could burn down the world, then fade out and turn to ash.

Alexander must have noticed his gaze as he looked down and smiled softly, putting his quill down. “You're still not asleep?”

“I can't,” John admitted, slipping his right hand into Alexander’s and entwining their fingers, ensuring that he would not return to work. “But I know what could help me.”

“What?” He felt the trap John had set on his hand and only stroked the back of his palm with his thumb.

“Could you sing me to sleep?”

“Sing you?” Alexander raised his brows questioningly.

“Like a lullaby,” he nodded and waited for a reaction, hoping his request didn’t sound foolish.

A few thoughts crossed Alexander’s face, but he finally huffed gently and squinted his eyes in a caring expression. There weren't many lullabies he knew, so he would have to make something up on the spot.

“When the night shrouds Earth, when the voices fade, listen to the rustling leaves, story that they tell,” he hummed and, with pleasure, watched John's eyes close on the pillow. “There was a young man, with his courage great. Served his country full of pride, both with sword and pen.”

A thrill of novelty went down John’s spine, though it wasn’t a completely new situation. He had heard Alexander sing a few times. His voice always was soft, with a warm tone, but the repertoire never allowed him for the tenderness he could express now.

“He was not afraid to do what was right-” The travel desk landed on the floor. Alexander decided to finish the work tomorrow. Now free, his left palm slid on John's right cheek and started stroking it, feeling him breathe rhythmically, calming. “Only thing he ever wronged was to steal my heart.”

John smirked at these words and would tease Alexander about them if not for the drowsiness coming to get him. He still could do this in the morning if only he remembered.

“In the dark of night, close your eyes and dream. I will guard you while you sleep, you'll always have me.” Alexander slid down from the previously sitting position and nestled himself among the sheets, turning around so John could place his head in his chest, which he did as soon as he sensed the possibility.

Alexander was stroking John’s hair, sliding the strands between his fingers, trying not to giggle from the tickling breath on his collarbone. He wrapped his leg over John’s waist, but then remembered he hadn’t blown the candle down, so he recurved under an unusual angle to put it out using his hand. It was a bit risky, but it was the only way not to move John from the embrace.

He finally managed to do it after three attempts and as many silent hisses as the fire licked his skin, and returned to his previous position. John’s breath was steady and he must have dozed off, but Alexander kept playing with his hair and a hand on his jaw.

“I love you,” he whispered, hoping John knew it, somewhere deeper, even if he didn't hear it now.

To his surprise, a low, drowsy voice answered him. “I love you, too.” Alexander only smiled wider and snuggled more comfortably, sighing with pleasure and closing his eyes.

It was late when Alexander closed the curtains in the room. Children were lying in beds, quilts right under their chins. Eliza was looking after the youngest one, and he took care of the older, less dependent on their mother.

He moved along one side, with kisses for a good night, and corrected the sheets if it was needed, wishing everyone colourful dreams. He walked on the other one where only Angie’s bed was. She had to share the room with two brothers and Fanny, but she had fought to get her own wall.

“Good night, little girl.” He smiled at his daughter, burrowed in her pillow, and started walking towards the door. He reached the exit and turned around to look one last time at his kids, politely falling asleep, when a voice reached him.

“Papa, could you sing us?” Angie lifted her head slightly and was selling him a pleading look. They knew it melted his heart and used it whenever they wanted something; he never declined.

With a small sigh, he returned to the bed, put the candle on a table next to the bed and once again corrected the quilt. “What would you like to hear?”

Angie squealed with excitement, nestling further on her mattress. “A lullaby.”

He hadn’t sung lullabies for ages, since Philip was a few months old, and probably didn’t know any anymore. In a rapid search, with relief, he found a melody buried somewhere in his mind.

“When the night shrouds Earth, when the voices fade, listen to the rustling leaves, story that they tell.” He looked behind himself, to check if boys and Fanny also listened or if they were already asleep, and found three pairs of eyes staring at him in the darkness.

“There was a young man, with his courage great.” Words were slipping off his tongue without much consideration, as prayers on a Sunday mass. Only when they fell, something in his brain put it in its place, and suddenly his voice went hoarse. “Served his country full of pride, both with sword and pen.”

His eyes went teary. They shouldn’t. At least not now. He should end the song as he had started it. He could make it. Think of it as a fairy tale. “He was not afraid to do what was right. But he paid a price for this-” young soldier died. He held up a sob and hoped what was happening in his mind wasn’t visible. The need to quickly come up with a follow up to what he had already said and the wish to cry. “Never-ending fight. I still fight with him, striking arm in arm. We protect our freedom and children from the harm.”

Alexander tried to smile and forced his lips to quirk. “In the dark of night, close your eyes and dream. I will guard you while you sleep, you'll always have me.”

He gladly noticed Angie already had her eyes closed and tried to stand up and walk away, but his daughter turned out to be very conscious and grabbed for his waistcoat. Surprised, he turned around and caught her huge eyes drilling into his soul.

“Papa, don’t go. Sleep with me,” she pleaded.

Alexander huffed gently and weighted up all possibilities. He decided to be indulgent for her, and for himself. It would be easier to hide his tears from a child than from his wife.

He put the candle back on the table, pulled off the stiff waistcoat, and lay on the verge of the bed, allowing her to snuggle next to him. She inherited his need for cuddles, which he didn’t want to admit to for a long time, and was brave enough to say it only when he met John-

If he had hoped he could not cry, now this hope disappeared. He felt salty tears roll down his cheeks and sink into the sheets.

“Papa, are you the brave soldier?” she whispered. That was going to be a harsh night. Alexander was glad he spared Eliza waking up from Angie haunting their bedroom.

Alexander chuckled slightly. “No, but I knew him and fought with him.”

“And he wanted to protect us?”

“He did.”

“Thank you, Mr Soldier.”

Those words felt so sincere and sweet they brought a smile to his face. He couldn't not chime in. “Yes. Thank you, Mr Soldier.”

#i’m gonna cry

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Summer night

John was sitting between Gilbert and Alexander on the grass in front of their tent. The stars were shining upon them, giving just enough light for them to see each other. Staying in such darkness made them feel like that was a secret meeting, with no chance to be overheard, as if the lack of visibility made them separated from the rest of the world.

Talks mostly revolved around politics, Lee's trial, but some nights they changed the subject to a more pleasing one, like this time. Lafayette, with the proudest face John had ever seen, was praising his wife to them.

"Adrienne is a beautiful girl. She walks so gracefully, and dances well! And her eyes, oh her eyes! I’ve never seen others prettier than those. And she dresses stylishly. Her dresses, corsets, all in the newest fashion."

Alexander tilted his head, looking at Gilbert. "I don’t understand how clothes make her prettier. You should appreciate her best without them." He couldn’t not tease, even about something so dear to their friend.

At first, the young Frenchman didn’t get it, so he looked just confused as to why Hamilton denies a sense of vogue. Only when John made a wry face, disgusted by Alexander’s joke, he understood the meaning and blushed.

"Oh, don’t play so shy, you’re a father." Alexander seemed irritated by friends’ reactions.

John nervously swallowed saliva. This wasn’t a good turn.

"I think" - Alexander had already turned on his talkative mode - "a girl should be of a good shape, even without a corset. You should enjoy her at any time."

"Dear, none of us is going to argue with you on the topic of women." John smiled in his left corner, looking calmly at Alex. This made him quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking of the next thing to say.

"You should meet her one day. "

John, who had been staring at Alexander's eyes, who had already moved a little closer to John, shook his head and looked at the Frenchman. "Who? Oh, Adrienne. Right, we should," he said, but still seemed distracted.

"She's the perfect woman. And she'd bring my daughter! My pretty little girl!"

Alexander shifted his sight from one friend to another and laughed. "You are obsessed with your family," he said with a smirk.

"So would you, if you had one. You should start a family. What's your ideal?"

"Intelligent, lettered," he started enumerating, "knows foreign languages, beautiful, with a charming smile, big eyes and light, straight hair, strong…"

Gilbert laughed. He understood the mistake he had made. "I see you have already found one."

John blushed and tried to think of something different, not to show how pleased he was with Alexander's answer.

It was summer. Last days the weather was great for outdoor activities. They had even played a football match. It had been a disaster, but a fun one. They had divided themselves into two groups, but at first, there were only four of them: Meade, Tilghman, Hamilton and Laurens, so Richard and Tench got together and John and Alexander together. The strength hadn't been equal on both sides, but John and Alex had refused to get separated, so as soon as Harrison had been willing to play, he had joined the weaker team: Laurens and Hamilton. Three for two hadn't seemed right, so after a few minutes, Gilbert had played as well. But the thing had been, he was great at this. It hadn't taken much effort to defeat the other group. Alexander had been upset at first, but solace from John in the form of kisses in the woods had cheered him up.

Now, it has got colder. Alex, not used to lower temperatures, shivered. John, as he noticed it, rapidly stood up and made his way to the tent.

"Where are you going?" Alexander turned his head. He didn't get an answer, so just shrugged and bent his legs, pulling them closer, so he could rest his chin on his knees and stared into the void.

A moment later, John returned and covered Alex's back and shoulders with his coat. It was bigger than Hamilton's, so it was easier to place it.

Alexander tucked in it and looked gratefully at his friend. "Thank you," he mumbled.

Gilbert laughed. His friends could be very open, in front of him, about the unusualness of their friendship, how they were all friends, partners and lovers, how they trusted each other fully and relied on each other. He saw how Alexander looked at John worshippingly, how John spoke about Alexander with passion. He knew they were deeply in love and noticed they really hoped the other one would always catch them, yet with any gesture of care they seemed astonished. As if they didn't think they deserve to be treated tenderly.

To break the tension, as those two dorks could start over-expressing their love, he straightened his back and confidently looked into the darkness. "We could race on horse backs."

This sentence came into whatever was between John and Alex as a blade. The rapid change of subject was a shock to them, as their minds were somewhere closer to asking Gilbert for privacy.

They looked at him, without even trying to hide the surprise.

"I like horse riding. These are such magnificent animals, and they agree to carry us on their backs. And the wind, the adrenaline! I've loved it since school. What do you say?"

Taken out of the mood, Alexander frowned. At that moment his arm was pressed into John, and John's was in Alex's waist, holding him tight.

"How would you like to organize it?"

"Let's say we would go to the river, on the right to the tree, you know which one, and then between the rocks back here."

"And, as it's a competition, what would be the prize?" John was intrigued.

"Oh, I know." Alexander grinned with some darkness. "The winner gets the tent for himself for one night. Naturally, he can invite whoever he wants."