these things ARE sj

Why a Hamilton? - Part 5

Character: Jefferson X Reader
Prompt: The final stand for the reader and Jefferson to try and sort things out.
Word Count: 2,329
W/T: None?
A/N:Ahh, the bittersweet taste of writing the ending of a series. *sheds tear* Hope y'all enjoy!


Warmth. That’s the first thing you notice as you’re pulled back to consciousness. A source of heat, a light. Allowing your eyes to crack open slightly, you slowly adjust yourself to seeing your surroundings again, your vision becoming less and less blurry as you blink. Fuzzy colors quickly taken on shapes, and regain their sharp edges, the room materializing before you.

You were in your bedroom, the fireplace from across the way blazing fiercely, it’s light being the only source of being able to see anything. Shifting yourself to a sitting position, you lean the back of your head against the wooden headboard, a dull, throbbing pain arising from your skull, forcing a small groan from you. You shift a bit, trying to make yourself comfortable, and a blanket slips off of your shoulder.

Grabbing ahold of the slightly damp blanket, you re-wrap it around yourself, draping it across both of your shoulders. Mindlessly running your fingers across the soft fabric, you lower your gaze to it, the scent from it oddly familiar. The magenta cloth and golden buttons instantly click in your mind. This wasn’t a blanket, this was Thomas’ coat. His trademarked coat. Around your shoulders. Breathing in his rain mixed scent, you smile against the collar of the coat, an odd sense of happiness wavering over you.

“I see you’re awake.” A soft voice calls from the doorway, startling you. You speedily turn yourself towards the doorway, frozen in place with embarrassment from being caught smelling Thomas’ jacket. Madison chuckles heartily at your actions, stepping into your room and seating himself on the edge of your bed, his own coat missing from his usual attire. “You gave us quite a scare back there, Y/N.” He simply states, running his fingers lightly along the creases in your sheets. “I, uh, sorry?” You hesitantly offer, raising an eyebrow at the stout man, unsure of how to respond.

He slowly turns his eyes to meet yours, the darkness of them seeming to be scanning you, trying to figure something out about you. “What happened after I fell?” You inquire, wanting to fill the gap of time in your brain. “Well, you did manage to stop their fighting.” Madison establishes, nodding to the fact slightly. “They were in an utter panic. You should’ve seen their faces; priceless. Neither one of them knew what to do.” He laughs, recalling the memory. “I had to step in and bring you up here. Both of them started doing their own things. Alex had run into the kitchen to get a damp rag for your fever, and Thomas, well…” Madison trails, motioning towards the jacket laying across your shoulders. “He came in and laid down with you, using the excuse of making sure your heartbeat was still okay. He absolutely swaddled you in his coat. It was actually rather cute.”

You can’t stop the redness of the blush in your cheeks in time to hide them from Madison, his shy smile only growing bigger and more cocky. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Thomas is head over heels for you anyway.” “…I’ve been told.” You answer cautiously, not really wanting to hear the same speech that you had received from Washington earlier. Madison notices this, and gently places one of his hands on yours, trying to sooth your thoughts. “How about instead of me telling you about how much Thomas talks about you, you tell me how you feel about him?”

You move your mouth the counter this suggestion, but not a single noise comes out. You try and try, but every time yields the same results, and the same smiling Madison. “Okay, let me start you somewhere. How about when you’re around. How do you feel?” “Oh? Going to treat me like a child and ask me ‘how I feel’ about something?” You scoff, coming off a bit ruder than you meant to. “No, I’m just trying to help.” He deadpans slightly, a bit of an edge to his words. “Okay okay.” You defeatedly respond, shrinking into Thomas’ coat a little more. “It’s just… He’s very easy to talk to. As if he knew what I was going to say. Not to mention he’s always asking me about things I’m interested in. There’s never really a forced feeling between us.”

Madison scans over you once more, as if there were some sort of writing on you. “What do you hate about him?” He questions, catching you off guard. “Wh-what I hate about him?” You repeat, surprised by it. “Yes, what do you not like about him?” Madison reassures, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I hate how him and Alex are constantly fighting. I just wish they could at least pretend to like each other, you know? Nobody likes how they are always going at each other’s throats.” You offer, silently groaning at the thought. Madison chuckles agreeably, nodding slightly. “What else?”

You rack your brain for anything else you could list off, but you come up empty. “I don’t have anything else.” You simply state, sounding a bit sad. “You’re not going to say anything about his taste in fashion? Or his handwriting? Or his choice in food?” Madison spouts off, confused by your lack of answers. “Yes, I would normally agree with you on those, James, but honestly, that’s what makes Thomas, well, Thomas. Those are his flaws, sure, but without them he wouldn’t be the same.”

“I suggest you tell him that.” Madison laughs, rising from his spot near your feet. You tilt your head at him as he disappears out of your doorway, and is slowly replaced by Thomas, his attire the same as before minus his coat. “That color suits you.” He smirks, lowering himself into the same spot Madison was moments ago. You simply offer him an over exaggerated eye roll, smiling. “I, uh…” He fumbles, grasping for words. “You scared me back there.”

“Yes, because I totally wanted to faint in front of you two.” You reply snarkily, a stray piece of hair falling to your face. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N.” He sighs, running his thumb across your knuckles softly. “I was just very worried about you. I still am.” “Well it scares me whenever you and Alex start fighting. It’s ended in injuries more than once.” You trail, a couple of memories from past fights rushing through your head for a quick second. “ but are you okay?” He asks again, attempting to sway away from the subject. “Yes I’m okay, alright? I’m not letting you try and push off the subject of you and Alex. It’s a problem and everyone knows it. Why can’t you two just, just get along like normal people?” You ramble, unsuccessfully pushing your stray hair behind your ear, allowing it to fall back.

“No, this can wait a minute.” Thomas deadpans, reaching his hand towards your forehead to feel to see if is still warm. But you pull your head back, glaring at him. “Y/N.” He states, narrowing his eyes slightly, stretching his arm back out towards you. “No, I’m not the problem right now, you are. Fix it.” You demand, leaning against the headboard. “Y/N, I need to make sure you aren’t running your fever still.” Thomas tells you once more, shifting himself over you, his knee against the bed between your legs. “No. I want you to stop arguing with Alex all of the time.” You growl slightly, trying to push him away from you. “Okay I will. Just let me check your temperature.” Thomas whines angrily, trying to swat your hands away from him. “No. Promise me. Promise me you won’t fight with Alex anymore.” You huff, still trying to fight his hands. “Y/N-” “Thomas. I’m not letting you go through with an empty promise here. Tell me you won’t- look me in the eyes and promise me you won’t fight with my brother anymore.”

Thomas swiftly snatches your wrists into one of his hands and pins them above you, his face now inches from yours. Heat rises on your face, unsure if it’s from the fever or his close proximity. His eyes slowly trail up to yours, lingering on your lips for a brief moment. His breath is hot against your nose, only adding to the increasing feel of the room. His dark chocolate eyes draw you in, just like they always do, the endlessness of them making your chest drop. Silently, his free hand rises to your cheek, his fingers dancing across your cheekbone gently, almost delicately. Your breath hitches slightly as he slips your stray hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a thin trail of fire along his tracings. His hand slides itself down, cupping your face in it perfectly, only making you want to melt more. His eyes bring themselves to yours again, holding. They were glowing something mysterious, something understanding. They seem to be saying all of the words he was wanting to, without allowing his mouth to utter a single sound.

“I promise.”

A single beat of silence passes between you two before Thomas lowers his lips to yours, forcing you against the headboard slightly. You happily welcome the touch of his lips against yours, not realizing how starved you were for this connection with him. The temperature of the room skyrockets, only making his rough lips press into yours more and more. A soft, almost inaudible groan escapes you as he deepens the kiss, desperately wanting to run your hands through his mane of hair. He runs his thumb along your cheekbone, his nail scraping lightly against your skin.


Thomas slowly retreats from you the warmth from his lips lingering, his face riddled with a look of utter pleasure before turning towards the source of the voice in the doorway. You follow his gaze to the door as well, where you catch sight of your brother, his cheeks blazing pink underneath of his averted eyes. “Uh, I just wanted to tell you two something I thought you should know…” Alexander trails, rubbing his arm awkwardly. Sitting up quickly, you shrug Thomas’ hands away, swinging your legs over the side of your bed, trying to hide your embarrassment. “And what would that be?” Thomas inquires a little too harshly, scooting you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. Alex narrows his eyes at him, but clearly withholds himself from spewing off choice words for Thomas. He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before continuing.

“Well, what I was going to say was… I’ve been… Thinking.” “That’s never a good sign.” Thomas mumbles, earning himself a jab in the side from you. “I’ve been, let’s say, ‘reviewing’ my previous reactions to you two- for Y/N’s sake, not Jefferson’s- and I’ve, I’ve seen the errors of my ways. Somewhat.” You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused by the vagueness of his words. “I’m not following, Al.” You state, pushing yourself up off the bed and stepping towards him. Alex bites his bottom lip, trying to rethink his words. Hesitantly, he takes your hands in his, gripping them reassuringly.

“Y/N, I see what you mean when you say I’m acting like your father, and you’re very right. I do try to act like a father to you, and it’s out of natural habit. Ever since we were orphaned, I’ve naturally felt the need to protect you, to shelter you. And once we came to New York, that sense only intensified from the war and new surroundings. But, despite my constant over-protectiveness, you still managed to flourish into a beautiful, brilliant, stubbornly independent woman.”

“Is there a point to this?” You quietly laugh, trying to keep back a set of fresh tears. Alexander squeezes your hands again, staring at them for a moment, pondering. “What I’m trying to say,” He begins, meeting your eyes, “Is that I’ve made my decision. I’m not happy about it, and I’m not really sure how I’m convincing myself enough to say this, but I know I’m doing this for you. It does baffle me how Jefferson has to be the one you’ve caught a thing for, but if he is the one that makes you happy and you know will treat you right, then…”

“I’m willing to let him court you.”

“ALEX!” You scream happily, rapidly enveloping him in the tightest embrace you’ve ever given. Tears stream down from your eyes, dampening the back of his lush green jacket. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You sob, futilely attempting to keep your onslaught of emotions at bay. “But remember I’m doing this for you, not him.” He whispers hostily in a joking manner into your ear. A heavy laugh escapes you, and you step back to try and wipe away the tears slipping down your cheeks, hoping you didn’t look as awful as you thought.

A pair of arms gently snake around your waist from behind, and a chin sets itself on top of your head, the owner very obviously smiling. “I didn’t think that I would ever say this, but thank you Hamilton.” Thomas huffs, his voice heavy with gratitude. “Yeah yeah, don’t make me Change my mind, Jefferson. It was hard enough to say those words as is.” Alex laughs, turning towards the stairs and disappearing down them.

Spinning around giddily in Thomas’ arms, you place your hands against his chest, his arms pulling you against him. His eyes smile down at you, the atmosphere much more cheery than before. “Who knew this day would ever come?” He exclaims, chuckling as he leans downward to you, stopping himself right before meeting your lips. A certain sparkle seemed to dazzle in his eyes now, a newfound passion laced in his gaze. He mutters a single phrase to you before melting against your lips once more, only causing a small smile to form.

“I can’t wait to change that last name of yours.”

Maybe being a Hamilton isn’t such a bad thing.

  • unarmed black boy gets shot: he was no angel and he robbed a store so he deserved it i mean he PROBABLY attacked the officer or something he definitely deserved what he go"
  • white boy shoots up a school out of spite: he was such a great person he was on the football team and nobody saw this coming i cant believe they would sentence him so harshly he obviously has a mental condition wow he was such a promising young man with a hopeful future that you've taken away from him

folks please look at what you’re reblogging there’s a v popular post going round ‘explaining’ the brexit vote and here’s an honest to god quote from the post

“During the campaign, Michael Gove, Boris Johnson (conservatives) and Nigel Farage (UKIP) stressed on immigration laws if the UK leaves the EU because immigration/refugees have been a big problem for the UK as its reducing jobs being given to UK locals/residents”

like no thats a fucking lie and racist xenophobic propaganda, immigrants and refugees are not a ‘big problem’ and its that kind of thinking that’s encouraging all this insidious nationalism

ETA: the OP has said that they absolutely were not supporting that position but were explaining the named parties’ positions! I misread and jumped to conclusions since I’m on edge right now

We need to push for a healthier enviroment on tumblr more- i already saw more posts popping up about it and i think we need to push for more attention to this and all- no more guilt tripping, no more glorified assholery towards people, no more witchhunts, no more questioning peoples morality over trivial things, no more forcing people walk on eggshells, no more emotional manipulation, no more yelling at people, no more bullshit ‘callouts’, no more misinformation, no more piss contests over what we are “’'supposed”“ to care about. People here keep talking about 'safe spaces’ and protecting people’s mental health and yet harrass and scare and guilt people into things and leave them anxious and scared and paranoid and doing things just for approval. This is not right. This is inexcusable.

Things that AREN’T racist, according to anti-SJ bloggers:

  • racial fetishization
  • Neo-nazi bloggers
  • anti-Islam bloggers
  • the confederate flag
  • racial profiling by the police
  • trivializing cultures by using them as costumes
  • blackface, brownface, yellowface, etc.
  • lack of media representation for minorities

Things that ARE considered racist by anti-SJ bloggers:

  • making positivity posts for people of color 
  • headcanoning a character of ambiguous race as anything other than white
  • making a white boy joke
  • affirmative action (which, by the way, is a bullshit argument for “reverse racism”)

the thing that really gets me about like abled people acting disabled for roles is that so often disabled people are forced to act abled to survive

so many disabled people spend years learning to hide, to act abled, to perform, to desperately try and make it through each day

and then abled people will act like us for what? for money, for acclaim

whilst we are forced to act as them to live, they act as us for fun and also so they can continue to control our narratives, it makes my skin crawl