four pane

anonymous asked:

Could you tell a little bit about the childhoods of Ben Franklin and John Adams?

I already did Benjamin Franklin here

John Adams was born in Braintree, Massachusetts in the house immediately adjacent to his own future home. He was baptized in the church where his father was a deacon. Adams was rather proud of his descent of a “line of virtuous, independent New England farmers.” Braintree in his childhood was a quiet village and recalling from his childhood later in life, Adams wrote of the unparalleled bliss of roaming the open fields and woodlands of the town, of exploring the creeks, hiking the beaches, “of making and sailing boats … swimming, skating, flying kits and shooting marbles, bat and ball, football … wrestling and sometimes boxing”, shooting at crows and ducks, and “running about to quilting and frolics and dances among the boys and girls.” The first fifteen years of his life, he said, “went off like a fairytale.”

Adams was born and raised in a five room New England simple home. It was built in 1681 and had a strong built massive brick chimney. It was made oak with inner walls of brick and an exterior pine clapboard. There were three rooms and two great fireplaces at ground level, and two rooms above. A narrow stairway was against the chimney. The windows have twenty-four panes and wooden shutters. There were outbids and a good size barn to the rear, fields and an orchard. The house was “fenced” by a stone wall. From June to September, the heat upstairs bedrooms could be murderous but in the winter, even with a fire going, everyone remained in dress while any water left upstairs turned to ice. 

As one of the Adams line would write, “A hat would descend from father to son, and for fifty years makes its regular appearance at meeting.” About his mother, Adams would have little to say, beyond that he loved her deeply (it is possible she was illiterate). She was his “honored and beloved mother” and that she was a highly principles woman of strong will, strong temper and energy–all traits he shared. Of his father, however, he spoke incredibly often. He showed an immense gratitude for the kindnesses his father had shown him and admiration he felt for his father’s integrity. His father was “the honest man” Adams ever met. “In wisdom, piety, benevolent and charity proportion to his education and sphere of life, I have never known his superior,” Adams would write later. His father was his idol. It was his father’s honesty, independent spirit and love, Adams said, of which of his life long inspiration. 

Early on, his father noticed his son’s intelligence and decided he must go to Harvard–in order to study ministry. Deacon John, his father, had little education and all though he wrote in a “clear hand” had “an admiration” for those who were. Taught to read at home, Adams then attended lessons with a handful of other children in the kitchen of a neighbor. Later, he went to the tiny local schoolhouse and was subjected to a teacher who paid him no attention and he lost all interest in his studies. He cared not for books or study and saw no sense in talk of Harvard or college at all. 

He informed his father he wished to become a farmer. “That being so,” Deacon John replied, his son would come with him to the creek and help him cut thatch. According to Adams, whenever he would tell the story, father and son set off the next morning and “with great humor” his father kept him working through the day. At night at home, he said, “Well, John, are you satisfied with being a farmer?”. Though the labor had been difficult, he answered “I like it very well, Sir.” His father replied, “Aya, but I don’t like it so well: so you will go back to school today.”

After Adams confided in his father about the teacher, he was enrolled the next day in a private school down the road where he was greatly kindly by a schoolmaster named Joseph Marsh. There, he made a dramatic turn and began studying. Cicero’s Orations because one of his most prized possession. At the age of fifteen, he was pronounced “fitted for college” and Harvard was his choice. Marsh, himself a graduate, accompanied Adams to Cambridge to appear before the staff. However, on the morning, Marsh said he was ill and John went on by himself, terrified. At Harvard he was granted a partial scholarship. 

The Harvard class of 1755 was numbering twenty-seven and was under Joseph Mayhew who taught Latin. Adams worked hard and did well at Harvard while being particularly attracted to math and science, taught by his favorite professor John Winthrop. Among one of Adams cherished Harvard memories was on a crystal night he went to the rood of Old Harvard Hall and gazed through Winthrop’s telescope at the satellites of Jupiter. He enjoyed his classmates and made several close friends while there. “I read forever”, he recalled. 

He lived in the “lowermost northwest chamber” of Massachusetts Hall, sharing quarters with Thomas Sparhawk who only distinction at the college came from breaking windows, and Joseph Stockbridge who was notable with his wealth and his “refusal to eat meat.” The regimen was strict and demanding, the day starting with morning prayers at Holden Chapel at six and ending with evening prayers at five. The entire college dined at Commons, on the ground food of Old Harvard. Each student was required to bring their own knife and fork! 

When college was over, and he’d graduated Harvard, he found himself as a village schoolmaster in Worcester. Once, the records shows, Adams was fined three shillings, nine pence for absence from college longer than the time allowed for vacation or by permission. Otherwise, he had not a mark against him. He appears neither to have succumbed to gambling or “wrenching” in the taverns. Adams was fourteenth of twenty-five who received degrees, his placement due to the fact that his mother was a Boylston and his father was a deacon. Otherwise, he would have been among the last on the list. 

Childhood of John Adams from birth to age eighteen. 

Beauty and the Beast: Prologue I

Pairings: Dean x Reader (eventually), Sam, John, Marry

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, gambling, swearing

A/N: I’m fucking terrified for this. Here is the first installment of the most voted series Beauty and the Beast! This is gonna be a bumpy ride kiddos, so buckle up! There will be a new part every Saturday from here on out until this series is finished (there may be some deviations, we’ll see). Enjoy, my friends!

Part Summary: Brothers Sam and Dean Winchester attend their father’s party and some of their family dynamics are revealed.

x   x

Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of France, a handsome young prince lived in a beautiful castle.​

Dean Winchester sat on the thin mattress in yet another dingy motel room. He could feel every lump and spring, but he didn’t exactly mind; he was focused on the bills passing between his hands, “Four hundred, four-twenty, four-forty,” he mumbled.

A relentless pounding rattled the door in it’s frame, “Dean, let’s go!” His baby brother, Sam Winchester said from the other side.

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I would like you to love me
the way I love hearing the rain trickle down my window pane at four in the morning

The only time I am not upset to be woken before my alarm
When I have to claw my way out of bed and paint myself ready for the world

I want you to love me bare faced
Every wrinkle and imperfection in my body
I want you to love me fondly,
Perfectly chaotic.

Do not try to fix me.
I may seem broken at first, but darling, I am merely sewn from a different fabric

I am not the girl your mother warned you about
I will not crack you open like a coroner
Reach gloved fingers inside your chest cavity and remove your pieces one by one
I am the girl who will litter your front porch with flowers
I will make you pancakes shaped like animals, and
Leave love notes on the bathroom mirror in red lipstick

—  “Barefaced” | E. Day, 2017
The Scarlet Omega - [WENDIGO x OMEGA!WILL] - Happy Halloween!

Ostracized for his strange talents and uncanny knowledge of the human heart, the beautiful, embittered omega Will Graham moved to a new colony in hopes of a new beginning. Of his many new acquaintances, one dashingly handsome gentleman alpha figured most strongly in his withered heart: Dr. Hannibal Lecter. But what of the tumultuous, forbidden affair he cannot seem to give up?

Will locked up his penny shop, looking out of the four-paned window fondly as the village children raced by, on their way home. The sun had set, and the moon was rising. It was time for him to retreat to his living quarters. He would eat dinner, feed his beloved dogs, and curl up with a good book until it was time to sleep.

The new village he’d just moved to had much more progressive attitudes towards omegas. He could wear his skirts shorter by two inches, and own a business! Will loved not tripping over his feet, and being able to support himself. 

There was only one problem.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt- The team's latest numbers are the maid of honor and best man at a wedding. Root and Shaw sneak in to keep an eye on them. Not paying attention to the ceremony, Root keeps thinking what hers and Shaw's wedding would look like and what her vows to Shaw would be. Shaw notices her lack of attention and knows exactly what she's thinking. After they neutralize the threat and get back home, Shaw asks if a wedding is something she wants. Root says, "Yes." So, Shaw proposes right on the spot.

Going to the Chapel

“If you’re in there much longer, we’re going to be late,” Sameen Shaw yells through the bathroom door, tapping her high heeled foot with hands on her hips. Casting her gaze to a full length mirror that squats in the back corner of the bedroom, Shaw takes in her attire:

A short, ocean-grey dress sporting a single over-the-shoulder strap, along with matching grey wedges that boost her into the mid five foot range. Smoothing the ruffled front down slightly, Shaw turns her head from side to side, the large stylized sweep of dark hair on her head seeming slightly over the top. Suddenly, the doorknob turns, and Shaw takes a step back, allowing the door to swing open.

Root starts out from the bathroom, strappy heels looping endless circles up her ankles, just to be met with a long stretch of exposed skin to the knee. From there, a navy blue dress hugs Root’s form, where just above the hips, her sides show. As Root turns her back to Shaw, Shaw can’t help but to notice that the opening in the dress continues to the back, forming a teardrop from her lower back to her shoulder blades and neck.

“Zip me up?” Root asks, tossing her affectionate gaze over one shoulder. It takes Shaw a moment to snap to. Blinking, she pulls her mind from studying Root’s dazzling attire, and her eyes scan for a zipper. Root, pulling her overflowing locks of wavy hair over her shoulder, reveals a thick strap of blue fabric dangling at the back of her neck, metallic zipper gleaming. Quickly, and perhaps a little too roughly, Shaw yanks it up. She’s flustered, but can’t place why, which only adds to the feeling.

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Simple Harmonic

At four the panes were stained aureolin;
saturated luster skimmed the table.
Your heart had been broken, you wrote to me,
keystroke drawing yourself in a bath tub,
in a Chatterton swoon, French windows wide.
I went back years to five a.m. in June:
a faded couch. Pink light careening in.
Struggling to soothe a perforated heart,
emptied of ice my lungs had opened up,
exhaling the inverse of little deaths.
Without the terror of its permanence,
the wake left by that ache was sudden bliss.

Only as I took in each line again,
I registered just how unscathed you seemed,
divested of your second pair of hands.
Not galvanised. Still in love. Set apart.
Oscillation frequencies moved through me:
dawn’s stark euphoria, your 10 a.m.
peeking in on yourself with approval,
September afternoon’s incandescence.
You had been set free. No mention of heart.
A cirrus eclipse shaded the room blue.
The purple afterimage hid dust motes,
dessicated footnotes to desire.