#nonstcp

[highlycomplicatcd]

nonstcp replied to your post:HELLO !!! tiny smol update from urs truly: i have...

feel better!

thank u cupcake !! ♥

[xnjolrasarchive]

                    ❝ Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur Hamilton...? Do you know...is there word yet? Will your country be lending aid to France? ❞

                   He’d been waiting in the hall patiently ( well...as ‘patiently’ as possible for Enjolras ), twisting a random pamphlet between his hands to keep himself occupied while the men on the other side of the door converged & decided on the fate of his country all the way across the ocean. He can hardly stand the tension. He needs to know.

@nonstcp​

[bestofwiives-blog]

                                        @nonstcp | continued from here ( x )

  “ Eliza… “

Alexander sees the crumpled pamphlet in her hand, what he thought would be a testament to his honesty and good character instead serving as a reminder that his reputation had BURNED along with him at its publication.  

            “ I’m sorry. “

I should have told you. I should have gone with you. I should have refused to go inside with her. I should have thought of you. I should have said no.

He doesn’t make any attempts to approach her, comfort her, speak up for himself,anything. He simply sighs, leaning on his desk, and repeats himself:

            “ I’m sorry. “

         She stares at him, unmoving, and doesn’t try to hide the tears in her eyes.

He makes no move toward her, and as much as she hates him in the moment, she wishes that he would.  She wishes that he’d try to hold her, try to take it back, done something, if only so that she could turn him away.

                                      “After everything, Alexande-” her voice breaks.

         She looks down at the pamphlet in her hand, letting it slip to the floor.  

                                                  “I don’t know you.”

[raisedglass]

"Is this goodbye?"

     ( kill john )

he can’t answer.  if he says it’s not,  it would taste too much like a lie,  and the bitterness of it would stick with him all the way to south carolina.  he’s never intended to survive the war,  and now that it’s practically over he has little chance left.  he’ll never admit it out loud,  but he doesn’t think he’ll come back from south carolina — so he just wraps alexander in a tight embrace, clings to him,  one last time.  a quick,  chaste kiss  ( they can’t risk anything more than that )  and a whisper into the other man’s shoulder,  refusing to let alexander see how tears have begun sprouting up in his eyes.    ❝  i’ll see you on the other side of the war.  ❞    john pulls away,  mounts his horse without another glance back.  ( if he looks back he’ll want to stay,  and he can’t.  )

[myfathersname-blog]

@nonstcp wanted random starters

--so i supply. w/o even an icon or theme

Alexander Jr. knocked insistently on his father’s door, standing tall and proud, pieces of paper clutched in chubby hands. “Daddy!” he called, reaching to open the door and peak inside. “Daddy, look I gotta show you--” If Philip could write a poem, then so could he. 

( of course the writing on the paper was mostly illegible, and there was more ink on his arms then on the sheets themselves. ) 

[bornforgotten-archive]

@nonstcp ( starter call. )

❝  what was he like?  ❞  to frances’ eyes,  john was merely the man who’d broken her mother’s heart and died before he could come home to them — but god,  she’s sure there must have been more, and even her own bitterness can’t dull the curiosity she feels.

[raisedglass]

the tweet thing pls

    ( who let john laurens get a twitter. )

[likelancelot-blog]

[insert the tweet thingy]