love is my profession

  • Historians: OmG AlExAnDeR UsEd A cOmMa WhEn He WrOtE tO anGeLiCa ThEy WeRe In LoVe
  • Alexander: cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish my dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by actions rather than words, to convince you that I love you
  • Historians: John and Alexander were such good friends :)
4

An Examination of Every Instance Where Alexander Hamilton Explicitly Stated His Love for John Laurens

Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you_ - Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens, April 1779

We all love you sincerely; but I have more of the infirmities of human nature, than the others and suspect my self of being byassed by my partiality for you. - Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens, June 30, 1780

I feel the deepest affliction at the news we have just received of the loss of our dear and inestimable friend Laurens.  His career of virtue is at an end_  How strangely are human affairs conducted, that so many excellent qualities could not ensure a more happy fate?_  The world will feel the loss of a man who has left few like him behind, and America of a citizen whose heart realized that patriotism of which others only talk_  I feel the loss of a friend I truly and most tenderly loved, and one of a very small number. - Alexander Hamilton to Nathanael Greene, October 12, 1782

Poor Laurens; he has fallen a sacrifice to his ardor in a trifling skirmish in South Carolina.  You know how truly I loved him and will judge how much I regret him. - Alexander Hamilton to the Marquis de Lafayette, November 3, 1782

Ten Ways to Say “I love you” - Jim Kirk

Summary: There are a lot of ways to say something without actually saying it.

Warnings: language

A/N: a little long. also if jim kirk called me starlight, i’d probably cry n profess my love right then and there. forgive any n all typos. enjoy it and lemme know what you think! 


One

The absurdly bright lights lining the corridors of the Enterprise pricked your eyes— you were forced to squint as your legs carried you. The air pouring through the vents pinched any of your skin that remained unclothed. You flexed and contracted the oddly tired joints in your fingers— you could hear tiny pops and the soft sounds felt like battering rams against your eardrums.

You cursed yourself for two reasons: losing your left boot as the time-consuming search for it resulted in your inability to replicate a much needed mug of coffee, and drinking so much with Leonard the night before. While you accepted the former was entirely your doing, you split the blame on the latter— half of it was your fault, and half was Leonard’s. It’s those stupid puppy eyes, you told yourself.

You leant your shoulder against the transparent wall of the turbolift you solely occupied and crossed your arms over your chest. Your teeth were gritted— as if grinding your teeth to nubs would give you the day off and rid you of the heavy weight crushing your skull.

The doors slid open before your desired deck and you didn’t bother stifling a sigh that carried the weight of two starships. You dropped your gaze to glare at your scuffed boots rather than subject the new lift patron to your scowl and dagger eyes.

“Rough night?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice and met his eyes. You frowned immediately and nodded twice. “Bones and I had paperwork.”

“What would you say the ratio was this time?” he asked, his crossed arms rumpling the command gold fabric that was firmly stretched over his chest. He was smiling slightly in amusement as he took in your appearance— messy hair, half-zipped left boot, heavy lidded eyes.

You shrugged and eyed the ceramic mug in his hands. You could have moaned at the smell steaming out of it. “I’d say about two charts to one glass.”

“How many charts in total?”

“Fourteen each,” you winced at the revelation and took your eyes from Jim’s when the amusement painted his features red.

Seven glasses of whiskey in one sitting,” he said with a laugh. “No wonder you look like that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “How dare you! I look adorable— like a celebrity running errands.”

“‘Cept you’re about to start an eight-hour shift.”

You sighed so your shoulders slumped. “My rough night’s turning into a rough morning— I didn’t even have time to replicate coffee because of my stupid missing boot.”

Jim glanced down at his mug and thrust it in your direction without thinking twice. “Take mine.

Keep reading

  • what i think love sounds like: “Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that ‘till you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others. You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent. But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me.”
  • what lin manuel miranda apparently thinks love sounds like: my dearest, angelica