It was a shock, to say the least. 

The whole neighborhood was in the bodega when it happened.  Nina, was there too. She felt lucky enough to get a chance to see this with everyone she loved. After a stressful year of working, and here she was, with everyone she loved. And Benny right by her side.
Radios were blasting the results, TV’s were on, and everyone gathered to De La Vega’s. Usnavi rarely uses that flat screen for anything, only for special events. Fifa; surprisingly, the Olympics; and previously for those last few debates. There was no doubt in everybody’s mind that he wouldn’t use the TV today.<br />
Almost everyone one of age had a sticker proudly displayed on their chest, like a medal of honor. Those who didn’t, couldn’t. Many have already thanked Nina for registering them.
Flags from all around hung from the fire escapes but one flag appeared the most constant: red, white and blue, donning stars and stripes. And all flown so freely in the soft breeze.
Usnavi and Vanessa were behind the counter busting out change and receipts, from energy drinks and cafe. Tonight was going to be a late one.
Daniela and Carla were in the corner, watching the screen, holding hands. Their hands seemed to be gripping to each others more as the states start to change colors. Some squeezes out of excitement, some out of fear.
Camila and Kevin were standing just outside the bodega. They eyed their little street. Oh, how it has changed, without looking any different day after day, until one day you notice, in retrospect, it’s has changed. It’s grown right before their eyes. And it just made a decision to change the world. They marveled at their street; they marveled at their daughter.
The Piragüero, is also outside the bodega, selling to neighbors walking into the store. Today’s special was, strawberry (red), Coconut (white), or raspberry (blue).
For once, Sonny didn’t have to drag Pete to the polls, they were there first thing in the morning. They were sucking down on one of Sonny’s slushie concoctions, to stay awake.

And then the night went on. People began holding their breath. Candle sales when up. Curses were screamed, prayers were whispered.

By the time the west coast was all counted up, it was late. And it was called.
It was called when Nina stood tall with tears gleaming in her eyes. For the first time in a long time she felt like she let everyone down.
It was called when Benny was holding on behind her, he was the only one to feel her tremble. He was the only one to hear her hold her breath for too long. He reminded her to breathe.
It was called when Carla was sobbing hard into Daniela’s shoulder. A thousand prayers and verses running through her mind. Her hands holding on to Dani more than ever.
It was called when Daniela stood blinking passed the tears in shock, not knowing what to do.  What to say. But somehow just knew to take a moment and smell Carla’s hair, like it was her last. It could be her last….
It was called when Camila felt a chill. Her mind was calculating just how much money they had in their accounts, just what they could leave behind in their apartment. It would be the first time she left somewhere with just a suitcase. For a flickering second, she thought of Claudia.
It was called when Kevin suddenly remembered his father’s stinging slap across his face. He could vaguely hear his voice in his ear, “Inútil”.
It was called when the Piragüero had a second thought of selling his piragua in those colors. He had a second thought of being here…
It was called when a curse fell from Pete’s mouth and a drink from Sonny’s hand. Fear rose over their faces, while their faith in humanity also fell.
It was called with every vile thing Vanessa was ever called and yelled at ringing in her ears. And for once, she let it get to her. She felt like she was those slurs. And she broke. She started crying harder than she ever thought she could.
It was called with cringes and curses and tears. It was called with people facing their screens in fear.
It was called. And in an instant, the rushing city was frozen. Usnavi knew every thoughts that ran across everyone’s mind. And then he had to face what was going through his mind. Would he have to sacrifice DR to be American? No matter what he knew he couldn’t. It’s as much of him now presently that it was his past. Would he have to sacrifice New York to be Dominican? How could he? After everything he’s parents gone through, how could he just reverse it? Was he welcomed here? Where any of them welcome here? Was this really home?
He stepped closer to comfort Vanessa, right when her legs gave out. He steadied her. Tears dampened his guayabera, and with every whimper she made he felt a pang of something he can’t even explain. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. There are many things they can take from him, but she’s not one of them.
Nina was right by her side. Vanessa turned to Nina enveloping her in a hug. Nina trying to keep it together for her friend who has always been so strong. But everything is weighing on her. And together they both cried.
Usnavi raised his gaze up high. Maybe to God, or maybe to the TV, maybe both. Just waiting to see the colors on the map change. Just waiting to see the numbers change. Just waiting to see the Ashton Kutcher come out, or something. After a minute of searching, he turned off the screen.
The store filled fell to a hush, with a few whimpers and quiet prayers.
The Nina and Vanessa stood there, shifting back and forth crying until Benny’s hand touched her shoulder. Nina looked up sniffling to see the whole community grieving, working through every emotion they can. She squeezed Vanessa’s hand as a final embrace and she turned to the crowd.

She spoke; Usnavi echoed her in Spanish, “Listen everyone, what just happened,” she pauses to find the best phrasing, “was an American Tragedy. It’s a disgrace to have been the product of a democratic system. Now I know, all of us are frightened for the consequences. Notice, I said consequences. It seems like: when there is a mix up, we pay the price. It seems like: even when we are Americans we are treated still like second class citizens. We are treat like we don’t have the same rights as everyone else.”
Grunts of approval come from the crowd.
“And today we went to the polls to tell them how we felt. How we suffer. And we suffer for simply being. Being the gender we are. For being the race we are. For having our skin be the shade it is. For loving who we love and praying to who we believe in. For just being here. And we are scared. But I know one thing. But we are not alone. And there are more of us, out there, demanding justice. We will exercise our right to protest, but we will do it by showing to the country what we think America is, or at least what it should be. We will show them our colors proudly. We will raise our voices high. We will stick together, with comfort and defense. Because, we are so many things but the most uniting factor is that we are Americans!
Many of us has been through dictators and corrupt governments Maybe, that’s why some of us are here. Let me ask those people: through everything that regime has put your country through… Do you still love that country?”
“Is there still a pride for that country?”
“Is there still a love for that country?”
“Is it still apart of you?”
“Then let this country also be apart of you, because you are apart of it! No one should have to sacrifice one of their identities over another. We should feel comfortable in our own home. We should hold who we are with pride and still be treated as equal. It will take time and will be hard work, but like Abuela said:”
“Tomorrow, is going to be surreal. Somehow, the world is going to get up and go on with it’s day. And you are going to wake up and you still are going to be here. And as long as we are here, we can make a difference.”

The bodega burst with applause. People’s tear streaked faces were met with enough confidence to get them through the night. The crowd exited the doors branching off in the street. One branch was lead by José, keys jingling in hand, ready to open his doors; the others went to their homes, minds, still processing what had happened.

The bodega was left quiet and empty. Some cups and wrappers confettied the floor.
Vanessa had joined Daniela and Carla in the corner, hugging and wiping away tears. Carla, all tired out, leaned on Daniela’s shoulder. Daniela stroking her hair, singing Juan Gabriel. With Carla nodding off on her shoulder, she invites Vanessa and Usnavi to sleepover at their place tonight. It was too late and too scary to go back downtown tonight. Vanessa took her up on that offer.
Camila and Kevin had gathered around their shaking daughter, with eyes beaming from pride and wet with fear. They tell her how proud they are of her. They tell her how much they love her. They tell her they will be right by her side.
Sonny got up to pick the abandoned cups. Pete still own the floor, eyes glossy and red. With all of the cups were picked up, Sonny began sweeping. Pete blinked out of his shock and got up, walking over to Sonny, ready to take the broom from him. Sonny didn’t surrender it. Instead, he kissed Pete’s forehead and asks him to sit down again. He wasn’t looking too good.
Usnavi stood there for a second, then did the only thing that seemed natural: count and move inventory. When he struggled to move the shipments of water bottles to the back, Benny stepped in to help. After moving the three shipments they took a rest, using the bulk packaging as a seat. The was a silence in there. Just the sounds of their panting. And then, Usnavi heard a different sound, a quiet sob. He turned to see Benny crying silently, hands hiding his face.
“Benny. Hey, man, we’re going to fine.”
“Are we though? Man, anyone we love can be taken away from us. I see how people look at me when I walk down the street. Almost everywhere in this city, I get side eyes. Stares. You’re probably the only store owner who doesn’t watch me when I’m in here. And it’s cause you know me.”
Usnavi grips his shoulder in solidarity.
“There a lot of things, I’m angry about. And a lot I’m worried about. But most of all, any day it seems like I could taken from Nina. Ever morning when I leave the mattress, I pray I make it home to her. I’m very aware I might just step off the curb at the wrong time, or have a busted tail light, and that could be the end for me. And I know she’s in high places, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a target. And I can’t…. I can’t imagine, what that would do to her. It would destroy her. I can’t leave her. I love her.”
Usnavi brings him in for a hug. And he holds his friend while he cries. There’s a silence in the back that seems allow the sobs echo, Benny felt not quite so alone.

With everyone out of the bodega, Usnavi took a moment to himself. And looked around at the livelihood his parents made. It was still standing. He goes behind the counter, and pulled out a Dominican flag and American flag. He hung them in the window, side by side.
He exited and locked up the door and  looked around. Everyone had gone home. Even the Piragüero had gone. Where does he go? Usnavi hoped to see him again.
Pulling down the grate, he was met with Abuela Claudia’s mural and with an idea.
He caught a glimpse of Sonny and Pete walking towards home, just down the street. He rushes over to catch up with them.
“‘Paciencia y Fe’ and ‘No pare, sigue, sigue’!” He calls out.
Pete and Sonny turned around, “What?”
“‘No pare, sigue, sigue’. It means don’t stop keep going and ‘Paciencia y Fe’ means-”
“Yeah, I know what it means, why you telling me?
“Can you write those. If you finish tonight I’ll pay you extra”
“Pete! He has a job for you.”
“Now, I know you’re tired, but, if you can-” Usnavi reacted into his pocket, pulling out his wallet.
“Naw, I can paint tonight.”
“Good. You’re going to need some new cans.”


Note: I’ve been going through a little bit of a writer’s block lately, but I hope this one came out okay.

Request: Hey!! Can i request a Daveed x reader where they get in a big fight and he finds her later in the night drunkenly confessing all of her insecurities about their relationship to someone in the cast and then he takes her home and make up in the morning? Lots of fluff maybe slight angst? I might love your work a little too much😉 thanks so much💙

Word Count: 2066

Pairing: Daveed x Reader

Warnings: some angst, hurtful words, language

Daveed had been stressing all day because he had to finish three songs by the end of the week. He had absolutely no ideas or inspiration. He had writer’s block at the worst time he could ever possibly get it.

He sat on the couch with his macbook as you sat next to him, suggesting ideas. He only gave short or one word answers.

“Write about something you’re going through. Or an experience.” You suggested.

“Can’t think of any.”

You gave him another idea. “Okay…write about getting drunk. Partying.”

“Done it.”

“Take a break, then.”


Keep reading

Heels (Lafayette x Reader)

Word Count: 3000 even (YES. BE PROUD.) Request/Summary: “Can you do 55,57,58 with Lafayette x reader please?”- @zoemonster200​ Warnings: I dropped the f bomb so many times in this the entire city is in ruins, some diet smut, fighting/arguing/yelling, that should be it. let me know if I left anything out.

A/N- Ruby ( @whatdimissmotherfuckers​ ) helped me out with french translations and became my thesaurus for a bit lol. Thank you Ruby. AND. Lafayette is just a tall curly haired bag of salt in this fic. Be warned. ALSO. Please give feedback! I love to hear from you guys!

Shit. He was in love. He sure as hell didn’t want to be. But it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

“I don’t think you understand John. I can’t sing.” You told your freckled friend, entering the room with the three boys and Eliza Schuyler. “Agreed.” Lafayette said, snapping out of his daydream. Damnit. How was she so beautiful?

“Fuck you.” You growled at him.“You admitted it.” He sneered. “I was just confirming your suspensions- how you say? Oh, suspicions.”

“Shut up you two.” John flared pulling out a chair a sitting down. “Somebody’s in a bad mood.” You muttered, hopping up and sitting on Lafayette’s counter. “Off the counter.” He grunted. “Hmm.” You pretended to consider his request. “Nah.”

“Get. Your butt. Off. My. Counter. L/N.” He gnarred. “I’d rather not.” You smirked, swinging your legs. “Off the counter!” He barked, thrusting your shoulder backward. “No!” You retorted, shoving him back.

“C’mon (Y/N). Off the counter.” Alexander groaned. “I’d rather not have you two get into a fight again.”

“Again?” Eliza asked, the newest and most innocent of your friend group. “It was ugly.” Hercules answered, glancing toward her momentarily.

You sighed and slipped off the counter, strolling around the peninsula to sit next to John. Lafayette couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping downward as you walked away, your hips swinging. You taunted him relentlessly, and you didn’t even know how much you were tormenting him. His jaw clenched, how could he let this happen? Of all the girls to lose his heart to, it had to be the one who hated him most.

“Zut.” (Damn.) He spoke under his breath. Alexander’s eyes went wide, “Est-ce que tu dit ce que je pense tu dit?” (Did you just say what I thought you said?) He asked, raising both eyebrows. “Non.” (No.) Lafayette frowned at the floor, his jaw still tight. “Tu fis!” (You did!) Alex argued. “Je ne fis rien. Tais-toi Alexander.” (I didn’t say anything. Shut up Alexander.) Lafayette shot back, his hands curling into tight fists. “Tu l'aime!” (You like her!) Alex realized. “Tu as maté elle!”(You were totally checking her out!)

“J'ai dit tais-toi!” (I said shut up!) Lafayette yelled. The others flinched at his intense tone of voice and Alexander held up his hands in surrender. “J'ajoute si tu l'aime, pourquoi  tu n'arrête pas utiliser ton ‘growly’ voix pour parler avec elle. ” (I’ll just add, if you like her, why don’t you quit using that growly voice whenever you talk to her?) Alexander advised. “Je le répète, Alexander. Tais-toi. Merde!” (How about I say it one more time Alexander. Shut. The fuck. Up.) Lafayette seethed. “Tu me connaît depuis longtemps pour sachant que je ne ne me taise pas, mais je apprécie nos amitié, je recule et  laisse manipuler les trucs comme tu le souhaite.” (You’ve known me long enough to know that I never shut up but because I value our friendship, I’ll back off and let you handle things the way you want to.) Alexander finally backed down. “Merci.” (Thank you) Lafayette finished defiantly, going back to stir his soup.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” John frowned. “Good.” Lafayette snapped. A silence dragged on in the room for a few seconds. “You okay Laf? You’ve been… what’s the word… quite a bitch lately.” Hercules commented. “I’m fine.” Lafayette frowned at the soup and turned off the heat, retrieving six bowls from the cupboard.  “Aww, is it your time of the month?” You teased. Still new to English and all of its slang, Lafayette had no idea what you meant, but he did know it was somewhat derogatory. “No.” He grumbled, his cheeks turning red as he found himself unable to understand what you’d said. “Soup’s ready.” He stated before you could pester him further. Everyone rose from their chairs and filed behind the counter to pick up a bowl and fill it with soup.

After dinner at Laf’s, life seemed to go on as usual. As long as you weren’t there, Lafayette’s demeanor was as cocky and optimistic as it usually was. But as soon as you showed up, he found it impossible to keep up a positive attitude.

“What’s up with you and Y/N?” Hercules finally asked. “We’ve always hated each other Hercules.” Lafayette answered, sipping his tea. “But it’s… worse these days.” John cut in.  “And we thought that was impossible.” Alexander added, typing as he moved on to his fourth cup of coffee that afternoon. “So what’s up?” Hercules concluded.

“I love her.” Lafayette sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide it from them for long. The cafe table they were sitting at exploded into the boys’ surprised reactions. “You what?” John shouted, further attracting the attention of the rest of the cafe. “I love her.” Lafayette repeated with a groan.  “Woah woah woah, don’t you think ‘love’ is a bit of a strong word? I mean, I knew you liked her…” Alexander trailed off. “No.” Lafayette responded simply. “Wow.” John breathed.

“So how have you all been?” Lafayette asked immediately after. “No need to give us a little time to process.” Hercules grunted.

“Hey Y/N?” Alexander asked, poking his head into your office. “Yes?” You looked up from your laptop to watch him walk in. “The boss is hosting kindof a party thing ‘cause we beat those British competitors in that thing, I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention. Anyway, it’s a party and he wanted me to give everyone these invitations.” He said, placing a piece of cardstock on your desk. The cardstock wasn’t urging you to attend a party, but a ball. You weren’t surprised, working under Washington was pretty big, and often got fancy. Please dress formally. The invitation read, you groaned aloud and pulled out your phone. “Hey Pegs. I need to get a fancy dress. Wanna help?” You asked into the phone, turning back and forth idly in your swivel chair. “Um…YES!” Peggy responded. “I’ll meet you at JCPenney in twenty?” She proposed excitedly. You glanced at your watch. You didn’t have any more meetings and could do the rest of your work at home. “Alright.” You sighed.

“How about this one?” You asked, holding a long blue dress to your shoulders.

“Noooooo.” Peggy moaned, “Pick something sexy! Bring home a man tonight!” She urged. You shook your head and strolled further down the wall of formal dresses, “You want sexy? How about this one?”

“Yes.” She gasped. “Go try it on!” She gushed pushing you toward the dressing room.

You left the dressing room in a tight, lacy, one shouldered black dress. The skirt trailed on the floor behind you and the slit in it almost reached your hip. Exposing your leg and the Converse tennis shoes you had on.

“Sexy!” She exclaimed with a wolf-whistle. “Now let’s get some shoes.”

“What? I have to dance! Spare me the torment of heels!” You begged.  “You are not wearing Converse with that beautiful dress. Now change and let’s go.” Peggy ordered. You groaned and slipped back into the dressing room.

“I don’t wanna!” You whined, emerging in your street clothes, the dress tucked under your arm and folded neatly.  “C’mon.” She pressed, tugging on your hand and trudging to the shoes section.

“I don’t want to go Pegs.” You sighed as she worked on your hair. “You have to. I bet there’ll be so many hot guys there.” She reasoned. “I don’t disagree.” You shrugged. Tall. Chiseled features. Groomed stubble. Ambrosial curly hair. Sexy french accent-

“Oh fuck.” You declared, almost laughing. “Oh fluff, did I burn you?” She asked, pulling the hot tool away from your hair.  “Nope.” You answered, burying your face in your hands. “What is it then?” She questioned. “I like him.” You said. “I fucking like him.” You turned to Peggy, “What the fuck. How could I fucking like him? I hate him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Who is ‘he’ and do you like him or hate him?” She asked. “‘He’ is Lafayette. I’m supposed to hate him, but I just realized I fucking like him!” You explained. “Oh. Obviously.” She shrugged moving back to continue working on your hair. “What?” You raised your eyebrows. “You obviously like him.” She told you. “I didn’t- I’m not- Shit.” You tried to say. “You’ve like that french puffball since the day you met him.” She pointed out. “I didn- Oh shit. I did.” Your brow furrowed as another revelation hit you. “Then you actually hated him for a while.” She continued. “And now you like him again.” She unplugged the tool she was using on your hair and wrapped the cord around its handle. “C’mon, let’s make your face look like… I don’t know. I can’t come up with a good metaphor. Let’s do makeup.” She stated, standing up from her place sitting criss-cross on the floor. You sat there gawking at the wall. Was it that obvious? “Let’s go!” She impelled after a few seconds. You let her take you hand and drag you to your feet.

After you were adorned in red lipstick with purple undertones, winged eyeliner and the eyelashes of a champion, you donned the torture devices: heels. Peggy had bought you five inch heeled lace up black booties, you could barely walk, let alone dance in them.

“You didn’t have to buy these for me.” You grumbled. “I did. You wouldn’t get them unless I got them for you.” She stated. You struggled to get up after putting them on, Peggy giggled and held out her hand, helping you up. “But you still have to let me borrow them.” She annexed as you finally managed to get to your feet. “Of course.” You nodded, leaving your apartment and locking the door behind you.

“Oops!” You exclaimed, stepping back from Charles after stepping on his toes once again.  “It’s fine.” He smiled. He was pretty hot, no harm in flirting a bit. “I’m kind of new to dancing, I’ve probably crushed all your toes a few times over.”

“Here, let me teach you.” He offered. “Oh!” You said in surprise. “Teach away,”

“Well first off, you’ll want to step a little bit closer,” He began, you stepped closer than you knew you had to, breathing in his scent. He smelled like lavender, it was nice. “Now put your hands like this,” His warm hands fell over yours as he moved one hand to rest on his shoulder, taking the other hand in his own. He set his other palm on your waist. “Okay, we’ll start slow.” He informed with a small smile. “Just follow me.” He began to step in time with the music and you did your best following along.

“Hey, I haven’t stepped on your toes yet!” You told him excitedly, “Good job.” He chuckled. Soon you moved your gaze from his feet to meet his eyes. You’d heard from friends and around the office that he was an asshole, but from what you’d seen, he was fairly sweet. He’d at least gotten your mind off of Lafayette for a bit.

“Switch partners!” Washington commanded into the microphone. Before you could even process what he’d said, Charles was shoved out of your grasp, and replaced by another, taller frame. He placed a hand on your waist, the other taking your own. You stumbled into his chest, which was adorned with a golden vest over a black button down. You pulled yourself away and looked up at the familiar face. Throwing you into a dance more intricate than you could commit to, was Marquis de Lafayette. “What the fuck?” You managed to spit out after being shocked into silence at his forwardness . He remained unresponsive, his jaw clenched. You pulled him to a stop and he kept his eyes trained on the space just to the left of your face. You stepped out of his arms.

“What the fuck?” You repeated. Without answering, he took your wrist and dragged you through the enormous room, weaving around several pairs of your coworkers. “Answer me Lafayette.” You snarled as he pushed you through a door. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Merde Y/N.” He finally spoke. “Quit saying ‘fuck’.”

“What are we doing here?” You asked angrily, gesturing to the room around you. He stared at your for a few seconds, opening his mouth and closing it again every few seconds as if choosing something to say but later deciding against it. He stepped forward and his lips smashed into yours, effectively pinning you against the wall. “What the fuck Lafayette?” You yelled, repeating yourself as you shoved his body away from your own, wiping your arm across your mouth as if you could somehow wipe his essence off of your lips.

“I know you hate me. I just- Seeing you flirt with him and that dress-” He let a legitimate growl rise from his throat. And damn. You could’ve sworn you’d orgasmed right then and there.

“Hmm. Marquis de Lafayette. Jealous.” You appealed, your voice dropping in volume and intonation as you walked toward him. When you’d reached him, you slid your arm around his neck as he stared down at you. You caught the end of his tie, slowly wrapping its length around your hand, once you’d reached the knot, you yanked hard on the golden hued fabric. The action brought his face not inches away from your own.

“Didn’t see that coming.” You whispered.

“Hmm. Y/N L/N. Even remotely seductive.” He teased. “Didn’t see that coming.” You lifted your leg and wrapped it slowly around his waist, bringing your bodies closer yet to one another.

“What are you doing L/N?” He queried, raising an eyebrow. You ground your hips slightly against him, causing a low libidinous moan to slip from his lips.

“I don’t know. What’s it look like I’m doing?” You responded, your lips ever so slightly brushing his as you spoke. You pressed your lips to his forcefully and it wasn’t long before your tongue began to tangle with his. You let his tie fall from your hand before reaching for the knot and dragging it apart. You threw his tie across the room before his hand found the back of your thigh, moving it so now both your legs were curled around his waist. He walked you forward until your spine was pressed against the wall. You moved your mouth to his neck and he lamented as you set to work creating a hickey there. You got rid of his golden vest and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. Pushing the silky black fabric off of his shoulders. You didn’t stop to think. You couldn’t. Every part of you ached for him. Every scrap of your being was begging to be closer to him, even though you already had your body pressed against him, every recess of your heart wanted more. You let your hand run over his abs before fiddling with his belt until you could slide it out of the loops. You moved your lips back to his and he reached behind you, sliding the zipper of your dress down. You pulled the ponytail holder out of his hair and tugged on the curly locks that had sprung free. He began to kiss down your jaw and along your collarbone.

“Oh FUCK. (Y/N) what the fuck are you doing making out with Jefferson?!” Alexander’s voice crashed through your thoughts. Your eyes shot open and you felt Lafayette’s presence leave you. “Oh god. I think I’m gonna throw up. My innocent eyes. I just wanted to get my coat.” Alexander moaned as you fumbled with your dress, holding the bodice to your chest. “Ever heard of knocking?” Lafayette smoldered.

“Jefferson. This is a coat closet. Nobody knocks to go into a coat closet. And what’s with the French accent.” Alexander sneered. Lafayette just stared at him for a few seconds. With a deep sigh, he reached up and combed his fingers through his hair, dragging it into a ponytail and holding it there. His eyebrows shot up as if asking Alex Seriously?

“O- Eh- We- Y- mnnf” Alexander was stunned into a stuttering mess. “I’ll just…” And he popped out of the room before you could say anything more.

“Oh god.” You stammered. What the fuck were you just about to do. What the fuck were you doing. “Oh fucking god.” You reached back, struggling to zip up your dress. As you tried to pull the zipper up further, you found yourself unable to reach it. After a few seconds of struggling, a pair of warm calloused hands covered yours, easing them away from the black fabric. Lafayette finished fastening the dress for you effortlessly. You turn to face him, letting your eyes rest on his face for just for a half second. “I…” You meant to say something but instead found yourself making for the door. “Wait.” You felt his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you to a stop. You tried to pull your arm away but he stood his ground. “Let go of me!” You demanded frustratedly.

“I love you.”

“I-” You began, tears spilling down your cheeks. You stood there together in silence. The stillness in the air felt like a weapon. Like he put it there on purpose just to torment you as you went rummaging through your thoughts, trying desperately to come up with an answer. “I-” You tried one more time. You didn’t know what to say. What was stopping you from telling him you didn’t feel the same? Hurting his feelings had never been in the way of anything you’d said before. What held you back now? What was it that scalded the words in your throat, reducing them to a pale ash? His pleading eyes bore into your emotions and you forced yourself to break eye contact. You wrenched your wrist from Lafayette’s grip and left as fast as those five inch heels could take you.

Wenn wir an einem Ort zurück kehren, der einmal sehr wichtig für uns war, fühlt es sich manchmal an, als wäre man Besucher seiner eigenen Geschichte. Jede Ecke, jeder Geruch, jeder einzelne Gegenstand, alles ist mit Gefühlen verknüpft. Und wenn dieser Ort ein Krankenhaus ist, dann sind es nicht immer nur gute Gefühle, denn hier drin ist das häufigste Gefühl die Angst. Manchmal ist es die Angst vor einer Begegnung und manchmal ist es die Angst vor dem endgültigen Abschied.


standalone; pg-13; fluff + angst; msr; through the years;  

A/N: This got a little away from me. They’re not all piggy back rides, sorry! But the sentiment is there. Send me prompts!!!



He laughs at her silently for a full five minutes before he figures he should help her. Besides, he’s depending on a breeze just as much as she is. The basement office A.C. unit is never a priority for the maintenance staff. 

Would it be possible, really, for him to tell her to move out of the way so that he could open the window himself? Maybe. Would it be nearly as fun? No way in hell.

She reacts predictably when he sneaks up behind her and grabs her by the waist. She kicks at him even as he’s hoisting her in the air, a squirming, seething, five-two mess, but she dutifully unlocks the basement window and shoves at the panes while she shouts out curses from above him. 

He stalls for a moment with her in the air because it’s pissing her off and, honestly, disturbingly, he enjoys the closeness. But he’s very careful to keep his distance when he sets her down, backing away in record time. 

He lets her cuss him out and stomp around the office in her best She-Hulk impression, but it’s hard to miss the little curve of her lips and the light in her eyes. 



He’s wired on sheer gratitude right now. Nothing else could explain his ability to throw the dead weight of his naked partner over his shoulder and plow steadily over the icy terrain, when just moments ago he was succumbing to a certain frozen death.

He’s just so happy to see her. She’s so small, though his fatigue makes her the heaviest thing he’s ever carried. There is no where for them to go, but he is dead-set on carrying her until they find shelter or they freeze to death where he’s standing, with her curled over his back like a sack of potatoes.

He spots a watch tower in the distance. 



If she wants to kill him, let her. The blood on her shirt is seeping through his own and for a second too long he’d been so sure her heart was gone, her heart, that important little piece of muscle that he relies on a hell of a lot more than she does.

She doesn’t fight him, though. She clings to his arms like a straight jacket. In his haze of selfless selfishness he realizes that there are agency issues at play and he wants to give her a choice for once, so he transfers her onto his back and feels too much when her legs wrap around his waist.



Their tentative foray into physical intimacy has meant a lot of things, to his soul and to his dick, but mostly it means she can relax around him now. She has this laugh that used to make an appearance about once a year, his absolute favorite cryptozoological creature, but now he hears it once a day. 

And they touch, too, not those desperate little end-of-the-world touches, not even just sexually, but they hold hands during out of office lunch breaks and sleep on each other in planes – on purpose

Today she’s helping him clean his bedroom because she trips every time she stays the night. The frustrated edge to her voice, the one that used to infuriate him but now just makes him smile, owes to his refusal to throw anything out.

“This magazine is thirteen years old!” She huffs out, jerking it wildly in the air. The movement causes the centerfold to fall out and her eyes do that twitching thing she does when she can’t believe this is her life.

“It’s a collectible,” he shrugs. She lets out a heavily put-upon sigh and throws it in the keeper box. Time for a break, then. 

“C’mon, Scully,” he nods his head to the door and moves to get up. “I bought some of that unsweet tea sacrilege and a frozen pizza.” 

“Lucky me,” she grumbles, rolling her neck until she hears a satisfying crack and getting up to follow him into the kitchen.

There’s a sudden all-consuming need to hear that laugh just once today, along with the bittersweet realization he’ll probably never get to carry her over any threshold. Her back is to him as she leans against the counter, taking greedy gulps of her disgusting plain leaf water, and she barely even startles when he scoops her up from her knees. 

“Mulder,” she warns. Ooh, those are some cold eyes, Scully. He smiles at her dumbly like she’s a fairground prize he’s escorting out of the themepark. “Mulder.”

“Nice to see you, Scully. Come here often?”

She does the twitch thing again. Then her arms thrust out resignedly, and she demands: “Your back.” Mulder doesn’t waist any time, her knees cradled under the backs of his elbows, and oh, yes, there is that laugh again.



Sometimes he carries her like that out of the car and into motel rooms because half-asleep is the only way she’ll let him.



Her fidgeting is distracting only because she never does that. The sight of it is extraterrestrial in nature. The rocking chair she’s abusing is making stumpy little noises against the raw wood and Mulder needs her to stop before she leaves scuff marks. 

“Mulder, what if he doesn’t like the mattress we picked out?” She asks in a watery voice. “Maybe it’s too soft.”

“It’s not too soft,” he says patiently.

He should be watching the winding driveway but he keeps his eyes on her, worried that she might topple over. He puts his hand over the one that’s clenching around the armrest and they both look out in front of them. 

When a little car finally pulls through the gate, just barely in their eyesight, he wants to start fidgeting, too. But he forces himself to stand up on shaky legs and brings her up with him.

They can’t bring themselves to stand there on the porch when he’s right there, can’t bring themselves to spend one more moment wishing he’d come to them. No, they’d come to him.

But her legs are too wobbly. She almost trips down the steps and he needs an excuse to stop himself from crying anyway, so when her feet hit the ground he’s bending over and pulling her to him. He is sick with relief when she takes the hint and climbs up on his back, and they stay that way the whole walk there, right until they meet that little car in the middle. 


pairing: lafayette x reader (although it might as well be john x reader but)

word count: 2000

warnings: cheating, swearing, break up

prompt/request: “hello there could you do #110 with any person just lots of angst and such ahh” (this was AGES ago jfc)

a/n: idk why anyone would want to read a break up fic with laf but. either way here it is. enjoy <3

You knew something had happened while you were gone.

A job like yours required you to go on frequent business trips throughout the country – trips where you were gone for multiple days, quite often without any time to spare. And you knew Lafayette got lonely when you were gone, but when you first started dating, you clearly stated that this was your job, and you weren’t going to change that for him. He accepted this fact, of course, pressing kisses to your knuckles and whispering to you about how much he loved you. And he had been so good about it for the first few years; he stayed home and took care of the dog, watching old re-runs of his favorite French TV shows and eating countless bowls of popcorn. However, this time was different.

Lafayette had seemed… awkward, since you returned home. He seemed wrong. He wasn’t his suave, sensual, flirty self – no, he was stiff, still, and sometimes he even seemed sad. Sad! You had returned from a week-long trip across the country and he was sad around you! In the past, Lafayette was always sure to pleasure you when you returned home as best and as long as he could. But he had barely even hugged you. A quick embrace when he picked you up at the airport, a few more quick ones before you went to work in the morning, but nothing more than that. You weren’t even sure he kissed you yet.

It had been three whole days.

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DEFAW - day six - favorite heartbreaking moment - 5x22 - home
“You are, by far, the greatest thing that ever happened to me in my 173 years on this earth. I get to die knowing I was loved—not just by anyone—by you, Elena Gilbert. It’s the epitome of a fulfilled life. It’s never gonna get any better than this. I peaked.”

That Would Be Enough (Lafayette x Reader)


Request- “80 , 92 and 12 with Lafayette please ? Xxx”

Warnings- AHAHAHA ANGST (I hope you like playing fun games of “Who’s Gonna Die?”)

80- “I think I’m pregnant.”

92- “Aren’t they beautiful?”

12- “You can’t die. Please don’t die.”

Words- 3,682

You sat on the edge of the bathtub. Your hands were shaking. 

You heard the front door close and a familiar voice call out.  He was taking a break from the war and was finally back at home. And now you had to tell him this. 

“Y/N? Mon amour, are you here?” 

At the sound of his voice, you shook yourself from your thoughts, and smiled. You had missed him so much. You rinsed out your mouth quickly in the sink. You rushed out of the bathroom and practically leaped into his arms when he was halfway up the staircase. He dropped his things and wrapped his arms around you in return. He held you tighter than he ever had. 

“I missed you so much.” he mumbled. 

“We’ve been apart for longer, Gilbert.” You smiled and patted his hair while he nuzzled into you neck.

“I know, but it’s still so hard. You smell so much better than the men at the camp.” You laughed and he brought his face away from your hair to look at you. 

“I missed you too.” you said, putting a hand on his cheek. He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. You were about to lean in when you remembered what had just happened and pulled away nervously. 

“Amour?” Lafayette furrowed his brow. 

“We should put your stuff away.” You reached for his bag, but he grabbed your arm. 

“We can do that later, right now, I want to kiss my wife because I haven’t seen her for a little more than a month.” He stared at you, but you didn’t meet his eyes enough apparently. “Lumière de ma vie…Did I do something wrong?” Lafayette looked broken. Your heart ached. You hadn’t wanted to tell him until tomorrow at least. You wanted one night of peace without worry about the future, but you were having a hard time even opening your mouth without-

“No Lafayette, nothings wrong.” 

“Then why won’t you kiss me?” He looked hurt and you felt ridiculous. This would be so much easier if he would just let you sneak away from a moment to freshen yourself, and then you would kiss him as much as he wanted. 

“Nothing, I’ll just be right back. I promise you when I come back you can kiss me as much as you want.” Gilbert looked concerned, but he let go of your arm. You rushed up the stairs back into the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut tightly you leaned over the toilet and threw up. Again. When your stomach finally stopped lurching, you got up slowly and wiped your mouth. You rinsed your mouth and rubbed some mint against your teeth. You took a few deep breaths to assure that this would not happen again, at least for awhile. You walked to the door of the bedroom you and Gilbert shared. The door which was now closed. You took a deep breath and smoothed out your skirts. Easing the door open, you saw Lafayette sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up at the sound of the door and smiled at you. His smile was sweet a genuine, but it disappeared sooner than you would’ve liked. You went and sat down next to him. You took his large hand in both of yours and laid your head on his shoulder. 

“Y/N I love you more than anything in this world. You know that, right?” You felt his shoulder move as he talked to you. 

“Of course, I do. I love you too, Gilbert.” You lifted your head of his shoulder. He took both of your hands and looked deep into your eyes. 

“What are you not saying? Ange, I am worried.” His eyes searched your face for an answer, but you knew he wouldn’t find one unless he took a very long look at your stomach. It’d only been a month, but there was already a difference in how firm it was. You looked into his pleading eyes for a long while, then sighed deeply. 

“Gilbert…I think I’m pregnant.” You looked. 

“Preg…Y/N! Zis is fantastic news! ‘Ow were you able keep to yourself for so long! Je l'éclatement d'excitation! Y/N mon amour, mon ange, ma femme.” Gilbert took you in his arms and kissed you. 

Gilbert, aren’t you upset about the timing?” 

He was not looking at you, but at your abdomen, where he placed a gentle hand and smiled as he too felt the firmness there.  “Why should I be worried, mère?” 

“We’re in the middle of war in which you play an extremely important part!”

“Y/N, I’m not going back to war. Not after knowing this.” Gilbert finally looked into your eyes. 

“Gilbert. That’s absolute bullshit.” 

“Careful! The baby will here!” he joked. You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Gilbert, I’m serious! You have to go back to war! There’s not way they’ll win without French aid-”

“I can still convince France to send help from here.” he said simply. 

“Okay.” you agreed. “But you’re one of Washington’s best generals! He needs your tactical brilliance in the field.” 

Gilbert held up his hand to stop you from talking. 

“There is no way I am leaving you alone, when you are pregnant with my child.” 

“I won’t be alone!” You stood up from the bed. Gilbert looked shocked. “We’ll hire a nurse. The war needs winning.” 

“My love, I could die.” Gilbert said somberly. 

“I-I know that.” You looked down, “But, as much as the thought of that pains me, it doesn’t pain me nearly as much as the idea of you sitting here receiving letters that your closest friends are dying and you should be out there keeping our men alive, but instead you’re holding my hair back when I get sick.”  Your words seemed to finally be making an impact on Gilbert. You walked over to him and placed you hands on his shoulders. He looked up at you. “Gilbert…you would come to resent me.”

He stood up, quickly towering over you. “Y/N! I could never!”

“You would! I know you wouldn’t mean to, but the guilt would pain you, and it would be my fault.” 


“Gilbert, I don’t want to fight. You just got back.” You stepped up to him and let your head rest where it naturally fell against his chest. “Just hold me.” you whispered. Lafayette wrapped his arms around you with an almost vice like grip. He placed a kiss on top of you head then rested his cheek in the same spot. You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed there, just enjoying having the other back, but soon you broke apart only to prepare for bed where he wrapped his arms around you. Gilbert’s hand rested on your stomach the whole night. 

About two weeks later, a letter arrived addressed to Marquis de Lafayette, saying that the war was kicking up again and they needed his assistance. 

“You have to go.” you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder as he leaned over in the kitchen chair with his face in his hands. The letter had fallen to the floor. “They need you, Gilbert.” He looked at you and you noticed that his eyes were reddening. You took his hand and put it on his stomach. 

“We’ll be here when you get back.” you promised. 

At his request, you wrote Gilbert a letter everyday. He wanted to know every detail of your pregnancy, from how wide your stomach was to how many times the baby kicked or punched that day. Gilbert convinced General Washington to allow him to visit you for a night or two every month. You both agreed that the baby must be taking after him because it was growing quite rapidly. 

This pregnancy was hard on you, and you often could not get out of bed. This did not do much ease Gilbert’s worries that he should be with you and not at war, but you were adamant. The doctor visited every two weeks at Gilbert’s insistence- who was worried that bi-weekly still wasn’t enough. Finally, the timing worked out the Gilbert was there for one of these visits. And it was a good thing too. 

“Well, I’m glad the father is here to hear this because I’m starting to have some suspicions.” The doctor was smiling, but Gilbert lost it anyway.

“What? What’s wrong? Is Y/N okay? Is the baby okay?”

The doctor chuckled slightly. “Yes, her health is amazing. And this child is either going to be abnormally large,” Gilbert frowned angrily. “or you have two babies to worry about.”  You face broke into a grin, and Gilbert gasped beside you. 

Deux? Jumeaux?” His face was an expression none other than shock, and for a moment you were worried, but then he looked down at you, he smiled. Your heart melted.  He leaned down and kissed forever then knelt to kiss your rounding stomach. “Nos petits enfants…” he whispered, lovingly. 

You were busy knitting blankets for your beautiful babies when you heard a knock on the door. You asked your nurse to help you to the door, but she insisted that she just answer the door herself. You set your knitting down and placed and hand on your stomach, smiling down at your growing babies. When you looked up, two well dressed men walked into the room. Your pulse quickened. 

“Mrs La Fayette?” one of them asked. You nodded. “We’ve come here with the unfortunate news that your husband was wounded in battle.” You stifled a cry with your hand. “He is alive, conscious, and being looked after.” 

“Wh-what happened?” you dared to asked.

“He had just struck down several red coats when one snuck up him and stabbed him in the back.” the other soldier said. You winced and instinctively protected your round belly. “He turned around and defended himself. He was taken to safety quickly. He’s having trouble walking right now, but will most likely be sent here to recover by your side as soon as possible.” 

“We’re very sorry this happened.” the first soldier said, politely. 

“Thank you.” you whispered. They nodded and left. Your nurse came over to you and held you while you cried. 

It had not been a full two weeks when Gilbert hobbled into your house, accompanied by several soldiers. His walk was drastically different. You rushed to the door and checked over him looking for signs of pain. His hand flew to your large stomach and his concerned eyes met yours. 

“They’re fine.” you said. Gilbert gave you a look. “We’re fine.” you assured him. He smiled softly. “You need to sit down.” you reprimanded him.

“No I need to do this.” His hand left your stomach and went to the back of your head. It tangled in your hair as he kissed you. You broke away from him remembering that there were others there. You turned and smiled at the soldiers who came with him. You recognized one of them as Alexander Hamilton. You also noticed Gilbert’s friend Hercules Mulligan. He had visited you often while Gilbert was wrong. You suspected because Gilbert wanted to make you weren’t lying about you health. You smiled at them and took Gilbert’s arm. Draping it over your shoulder, you started walking him to the couch. 

“Y/N don’t. You shouldn’t be working yourself too much.” he said. You glared at him. 

“I’m pregnant, Gilbert. Not a china doll.” 

He laughed richly and you tried to ignore the way he winced as he did it. You helped him sit down on the couch. 

“Come sit!” you told his friends. The walked over hesitantly. Except for Hercules. He made himself at home in your sitting room. 

“I’m John Laurens, by the way.” the other soldier said as he walked up to you. He kissed your hand and smiled before sitting down. 

“Would you guys like tea?” Honestly, you were excited to have some company. 

“Oh Y/N, don’t go to the trouble.” Alexander said. 

“Oh stop.” You waved your hand in the air and headed to the kitchen to make tea. You leaned against the counter as you held the pot to boil. Seeing your husband in that state had made you feel sick. A moment later Alexander walked in and smiled at you. 

“Hello, Mr. Hamilton.” you stood up straighter even though it strained your back. 

“Please, call me Alexander, or Alex even. I’m just another one of Lafayette’s friends.”

“This coming from George Washington’s most trusted comrade.” you said. 

“Next to Lafayette.” Alex reminded you of your husband’s prominent position. 

“How is he?” you asked carefully, “Or will he…can he?” 

“The doctors don’t know if he’ll ever be able to walk normally again. The infection spread too much.” Alex said quietly. “But they also didn’t think he’d be able to walk at all, and you just saw him waltz in.” he added. “You’ve married one of the strongest men in the Continental Army, Y/N. He’d recover if only to lift one of these little guys over his head.” he gestured to your stomach. You smiled at him. 

“He better be careful if he does.” you said. 

Alex laughed and helped you with the tea. 

Your hand flew to your stomach. “Oh god, it’s happening.” you whispered. Gilbert lifted his hand off the pillow slightly. 

Ange?” His voice was gruff with sleep. You opened your mouth to speak, but at that moment a contraction ripped through you and a strangled shout came out instead.  “Y/N!” Gilbert sat up quickly and you heard his own groan of pain. 

“Gilbert, don’t. Lay back down. I’ll get the nurse.” You said between labored breaths. You got up to move, but the pain increased exponentially as you moved. Gilbert watched you nervously, still trying to get up himself. You swung a leg over the side of the bed and noticed a trickle of blood running down it. 

“Gilbert.” your voice was shaking. You could feel tears in your eyes. 

Merde.” He got up with some effort and left the room. You tried to slow your breathing and not worry, but there it was. The blood was right there in front of you. You didn’t know how long Gilbert had been gone, but he came back into the room with a horrible limp. He told you that the nurse had run for the doctor and they would be back as soon as possible. He winced. 

“Are you alright?” you asked. Gilbert smiled. 

“The pain I am feeling is nothing compared to what you are going through, le plus cher.” Lafayette positioned himself behind you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you and you leaned against his chest. 

Respirer. Just breathe.” he said. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths. Gilbert sang you to you softly in French until the doctor arrived. Gilbert moved from the chair and leaned against one of the wall. Your doctor checked you over and told you that you were definitely going into labor, but you weren’t yet ready to push. He then got up a motioned for Gilbert to follow him out the room. Your nurse came over to you and dabbed your forehead with a cold, wet towel. You smiled at her gratefully. Gilbert came back in with a grim face, but smiled when he saw you looking at him. 

“What did the doctor say?” You were beyond concerned for your babies. He limped over to the bed and sat down on it carefully. 

“He’s going to stay here, and maybe sleep a little, until your ready to push.” Gilbert bit his knuckle as he brought he legs up onto the bed and pushed himself closer to you. All the moment must be painful for him, but he had been doing better in the past few days. 

“Gilbert. What did he really say, about the blood?” 

Gilbert looked at you and grimaced. His eyes were watery and unfocused. 

“He said….the blood… it’s- it isn’t that babies’, Y/N, it’s yours.” 

“Well that’s good isn’t it?” you said confused. “I have a lot more blood than they do. If I lose some, it’s fine.” Gilbert was trying to not to cry.

“Y/N, I can’t do this without you.” he whispered. He looked so broken sitting there next to you. You reached over and grabbed his arm. Trying not to shout as another contraction tore apart your insides. 

“You won’t lose me, Gilbert.” 

He leaned over and kissed you. You felt his tears fall on your face, or maybe you were crying. You couldn’t tell anymore. 

It was several long hours and not enough for sleep for anybody before your doctor  announced that you were dilated enough to push. Gilbert and the doctor helped you situate yourself. Two more nurses had come to your house and were assisting your regular one. Gilbert leaned against the bad frame and took your hand in his. He smiled down at you. You can do this he mouthed. You nodded and looked at your doctor. 

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded again. “Alright. Y/N, I want you to take three deep breaths and when you exhale on the third one, I need you to push with your abdomen, okay?” You closed your eyes and counted. 


You squeezed Gilbert’s hand tightly and let out a small sound like yelp. 

“Good! Good, Y/N. Take a few seconds and then I’ll need you to do the same thing.” 

You looked up at Gilbert. He was already crying. 

“’Ave I ever told you ‘ow beautiful you are, cherie?” You noted how strong his accented sounded. You laughed but the action cause a lot of pain for you. You looked at the doctor signifying you were going to go again. He nodded in understanding. 


You leaned forward as you pushed and shouted in pain. 

“Yes! Just like that! You’re already crowning.” the doctor told you with pride. You had no idea what crowning was, but you assumed it was good. “Okay we can get this baby out with one more push if you really try, Y/N.” 

“Yes.” you said quickly, just wanting the pain to be over. 

“Okay. We’ll do the same thing, but you need to keep pushing until I say stop, alright? Just power through it.” 

Gilbert held your hand tightly. You closed your eyes and leaned back into the pillows. 


“Keep going, Y/N!”

Ceci est vraiment enfin arrivé….” 

“Just a little longer, Y/N! You can do it!”

“I love you so much, mon amour. Keep going keep going!”

Your body relaxed intensely as you heard the sound of your infant crying. Your eyes shot open and there your baby was in the arms of your doctor. You looked at a Gilbert, whose eyes were overflowing with pride as he looked from you to the baby. 

“You are so strong, mon amour.“ 

“It’s a girl.” Your nurse said quietly as she brought the baby over to your aching arms. 

“A girl.” you sobbed. You held her in your arms and she felt so warm. She was crying, but stopped after being with you again. 

“I never thought I could love something as much as I love you.” Gilbert said looking down at you and his daughter. “Ma petite fille.” he cooed. You closed your eyes, feeling extremely lightheaded. 

“Don’t get to sentimental. You still have another baby to meet. Are you ready, Y/N?” the doctor asked. You nodded, unable to form words for some reason. The nurse took the baby from your arms. Gilbert gave her a little wave goodbye as they went to clean her off. 

“Okay. Same process whenever you’re ready.” 

You nodded and closed your eyes again. You really just wanted to sleep. 


“Y/N? Are you with me?” the doctor asked. You opened your eyes and nodded. “Okay…” he looked at you with concern. “One more hard push, okay?” 


You felt the same relief again as you heard your second baby cry out for you. You looked and saw the most amazing sight for the second time. 

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Gilbert commented. You nodded. Your eyes were slipping closed, and your baby wasn’t crying anymore. You heard a few panicked voices, and lots of clanging metal. You were barely awake enough to feel Gilbert’s hand slip from yours. 

“You can’t die. Please don’t die.” you heard him say. Your eyes shout open when you realized he wasn’t talking to you. The doctor and all the nurses except one were hunched over a table doing something you couldn’t see. The missing nurse stood of a corner, bouncing your baby girl and looking at the table with concerned eyes. Gilbert was standing near the table with his fists knotted in his hair. 

“You have to save him.” he kept whispering over and over again. 

“Gilbert? Gilbert, what’s happening? Where’s our baby?” you choked. He limped over to you. 

“Look at me, Y/N.” He brought your hands up to his wet face. “I promise you, we’ll be okay. Do you feel alright?” You nodded and his face relaxed, but only a little. 

“Is the baby okay?” 

Gilbert looked at you and shook his head. You watched in horror as your doctor tried desperately to resuscitate your son. You watched as he stepped away from the table and looked at the clock. You held onto Gilbert and sobbed as one of the nurses covered him with a white sheet and took him away. In fact, you sobbed for a long time after that. So did Gilbert. 

The only ray of sunshine for the two of you was your precious little girl, who the nurse brought over to you after you had calmed down somewhat. She was sleeping with a soft smile on your face. Gilbert held you in his arms and you leaned against him. 

“What are we going to do?” you asked your husband, staring down at the little wonder you’d made. 

“We’re going to love her enough for the both of them.” he answered.

Legacy of Love (Words of Love Pt.5)

Warnings: a little angst, but it’s bittersweet? So.. no angst?

References to Christianity at the end (afterlife) 

WC: 3164

AU: Hamiltime

1 2 3 4 Masterlist

It has been days since Philip passed, and it was getting time for his funeral. You couldn’t bear the thought of it.

Everything reminded you of him. Your books reminded you of how you first met, the parchment sitting on your desk reminded you of all the letters you exchanged.

The box with a ring that was sitting on your dresser reminded you of how he was going to propose.

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