#i had this drawn a lil while ago just imagine he's chilling in an empty house

[hexavexen]

How are you resting? I think all this stuff we just learned might cause some issues

Sleep SUCKS. I just keep seeing Vulcan kill me.

At least I get to try something new soon.

[rosy-wooyoung]

Confetti

Pairing: Yunho x Y/N Genre: fluff? idk Yunho is a lil flirt but yeah Words count: 1.1k  A/N: yeah uhm... I got carried away with this one, I hope it’s not too badly written and too cliché/ romantic. The gif isn’t mine (it’s gyeongown’s) and isn’t related to the fic, I just saw the combo confetti + Yunho and I never clicked so fAST.

You have just passed the New Year, leaving behind years filled with changes and growths. The party begins to quiet down, the members of the group were on the sofas or the floor, starting a new year in a small group, describing the too idealistic resolutions they were willing to make for 2020. Jongho and San had exploded surprise packages when the clock struck midnight, leaving the whole apartment coated with confetti. You were quietly chattering with Yeosang when you notice that your cups were empty. You offer to fill them back and he accepts.

As you make your way to the kitchen, two large figures catch your eyes. Yunho was laughing with Mingi, a glass of champagne in their hand. Yunho's cheeks were pink, probably due to the warmth of the apartment and the euphoria of spending the New Year with his dearest friends. He notices you and shoots you his brightest smile, leaving you a blushing mess, the two empty cups being your only distraction from him. 

You continue your way to the drinks and fill the two cups, trying not to think too much about the man and his smile worthy of toothpaste ads. You didn't want to drop the bottle of champagne or create a mess by spilling or breaking the champagne glasses. "Y/N, our beautiful Y/N, are you enjoying yourself tonight??" Two brown orbits met yours, a wide smile decorating his lips. His smile was bright and big, your cheeks heating the moment he pronounced the word "beautiful" and your name in the same sentence. You swayed from side to side, staring at the ground, not quite sure what to answer. "Yes, I'm having fun. It feels great to chill with our friends." Yunho nodded, finding your behaviour adorable.

Coloured round pieces of paper were stuck on your friend's suit. You smile at his goofiness, not even noticing that he was covered in confetti. "Yunho,” you giggle, "you have confetti all over your shirt." You pointed out to him by passing your hand over the folds of the black fabric, feeling his firm shoulders under your gesture. Yunho was taken aback, watching your hand pass close to his face when you swept the last confetti around his neck. You don't realize that you have unintentionally got closer to him, too busy to get rid of every confetti. You swallowed thickly when you noticed that you were so close to him and you swear that you saw his cheeks become redder than earlier. You step back, gently smiling at him. 

You were going to tell him that he was free of all confetti, but the words got stuck in your throat when you noticed blue, red and green small circles in his hair. You chuckled at the sight and you gestured Yunho to lean towards you. "You still have some in your hair, wait." Yunho's eyes went wider at your words and he shook his hair to try to make it fall, but not even half of them fell. "Bend down." He did so and smiled when he felt your hand pass through his curls, offering him a delicate scalp massage. He bent down even further when he saw you hoisting yourself on tiptoe despite your heels, being careful not to tear his suit pants. 

Redness decorates your cheeks due to your proximity, unsteady breaths and distant music could be heard in the kitchen. You were so close to him physically but so far mentally. Your attraction for each other could be seen by every single one of your friends, but it seems that the two of you are blind of the love that one has for the other. Some of your friends have already tried to make you kiss under the mistletoe at a Christmas party, but it didn't work, a member of your group of friends interrupting you each time one attempts to go towards the other. Hongjoong and Wooyoung were getting tired of seeing you acting shy together, not daring to admit your feelings. 

Yunho was still close to you. You couldn’t imagine the things he would do to kiss those cute cheeks he liked to poke to annoy you. Yunho straightened up a little, staying at your height. His eyes were searching for yours who happened to look everywhere except in Yunho's direction. Tired of playing, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, making you yelp of surprise. Your hands were firmly gripping his shoulders as his gaze plunged into yours. "You are beautiful tonight, Y/N. You shine as bright as a treasure, I want to cherish you until we grow tired of each other. I want to share great moments with you. I'm tired of looking for each other as we did until now. We had so many occasions to be close but nothing happened. I hope you feel the same as I do." Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you were sure Yunho could hear it. Your brain seemed to be disconnected from your body, not knowing what to do. Following your loving instinct, you cupped his cheeks and kissed him intensely. He put you back on the floor, one arm still surrounding your waist and the other on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your burning cheekbone. 

Electricity ran through your veins, the party seemed so distant, your glasses and Yeosang's long forgotten on the counter. You draw Yunho even closer to you by circling your arms around his neck, his lips never leaving yours. They fit perfectly, almost made for each other. The fireworks that exploded outside 10 minutes ago had nothing to do with those that were currently exploding in your stomach.

You ended this intense kiss, completely out of breath. Yunho pressed his forehead against yours and looked you straight in the eyes. "If you only knew how long I've been waiting to do this." He was panting but his smile made you melt like an ice cream in summer, your knees suddenly feeling very weak. "Me too, I was dying to do it for weeks." He kissed your cheek and lingers there for a while, the sensation of your skin against his lips was something he could never grow tired of. "It's okay, we have plenty of time to make up for the lost time."

"It was about time. I was wondering what took you so long to fill up two champagne flutes." Yeosang stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his black shirt, a thin smile drawn on his lips. He didn’t even seem surprised to your closeness, almost relieved that the kiss finally happened. He grabbed his flute and raised it toward you two. "To your relationship. Make it last as long as possible, you deserve it." You nuzzled your face in Yunho's chest, kinda embarrassed to have been caught kissing your crush but your lover didn't pay the slightest attention. He thanked Yeosang and smiled as the younger man left the room to give you some privacy. Yunho grabbed your hand and guided both of you towards your group of friends, who cheered when they saw your linked hands. It was the best way to start a new year.

[undiscoveredstory]

Twelfth Night at the Schuyler’s

Anonymous: Hello. I was wondering if you could tell me something to cheer me up. Ive been feeling kind of down in the dumps lately, and the your writing and the connection you have with your followers really makes me happy so I was just wonder if I could share some of that too. 

Of course, kiddo!! I know you sent this a while ago, so I hope you’re feeling much better, but I am still happy to oblige. Here is a canon-era lil fic about the Schulyers and Hamilton celebrating Philip’s first Twelfth Night, though this fic focuses more on Angelica! I also tried super hard for historical accuracy, so I hope you guys like it! :)

(Historical note: in Dutch culture the Twelve Days of Christmas are still celebrated today, and they were celebrated by the descendants of Dutch colonists like the Schuyler family. This fic is based on a Twelfth Night celebration I attended at the Schuyler Mansion!)

“I was playing with that! Philip, give it back!” Cornelia, her younger sister Catherine, and their nephew, Philip, who they certainly did not consider a nephew, but rather a playmate, were sprawled out on the floor of the girls’ room in the upstairs of the Schuyler’s mansion, playing with one of the dolls the girls had been gifted during the Christmas season.

“Philip,” Angelica admonished her five-year-old son. “Is this true?”

Truth be told, she wasn’t really paying attention to the children–– whom Catherine had placed in her care as the rest of the family and their many servants and slaves bustled about preparing for the final and most festive celebration of the Christmas season, Twelfth Night–– but nobody could blame her, really. Watching the kids wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world. As long as there wasn’t a homicide, it didn’t much matter what they got up to.

A wail rose out of the the cradle next to her, startling her from the daze she was in. She bent over to scoop up her nephew, Eliza and Alexander’s first little one, Philip. “There, there,” she cooed, giving him her finger to suck on.

Eliza, her dark locks of hair hanging loose around her face, burst through the door. Angelica stood right away, cradling nearly-one-year-old Philip close to her chest.

“Are you well, Eliza?” Her sister looked a bit pale. Angelica motioned for her to sit on the bed.

Eliza sat and took a deep breath. She slowly nodded her head. “I’m fine. It’s just so busy. So many people are already here and the celebration hasn’t even started.”

She looked up at her sister and it was like they were young again, in New York City, attending boarding school. Back then Angelica was the socialite and Eliza wanted to climb trees or, at the very least, sit in a garden, tucked away from people. Not much but their age had changed since those days. Now, like then, Angelica would guide her sister through the evening, knowing that once most of the guests had arrived, Eliza would be thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Eliza? Eliza?” Alexander’s voice echoed up the stairs.

Angelica smirked at Eliza, who simply sighed, a small smile spreading across her face, in response.

“Eliza?” Alexander said breathlessly, as if he’d just ran miles to find her, instead of ascending a flight of stairs.

While Eliza despised social gatherings, Alexander loved them. But, around her large family, he grew slightly meeker. He seemed much more helpless than Angelica had ever seen him.

“I’m here, my love,” Eliza said, holding a hand out to him.

He took it gratefully, kissing the back of her hand. She giggled, looking as giddy as the night they married in the very same house just over two years prior.

Upon seeing his parents, little Philip began to wriggle in Angelica’s arms. “Papa! Mama!” he cried, holding his arms toward them.

Alexander chuckled and took his son in his arms, running a gentle finger through the brown curls that covered the top of his head.

“He must have gotten these from you,” Alexander said to Angelica.

She laughed, moving to take her own Philip, who was still bickering with Cornelia, in her arms. “Curls do run in the family, I suppose.” She kissed the top of her son’s head, his black curls tickling her cheeks.

“They skipped me,” Eliza said with a laugh, running a hand through her straight black locks.

“They certainly didn’t skip me!” Peggy bounded through the door, her husband of about a year, Stephen Van Rensselaer, on her arm, looking timid, suddenly being in front of the sisters and Alexander. “Our kids are gonna have the best hair,” she said to Stephen with a wink.

Stephen blushed and ran his free hand over his black hair, currently pulled back in a ponytail. “Ye-yes,” he agreed nervously.

“Moeder said to come downstairs. The meal is starting soon,” Peggy said. She turned to leave, tugging Stephen after her. “Don’t take too long,” she called over her shoulder. “The cake in the center of the table looks so good that I might just go eat it right now.”

Alexander and Stephen chuckled, but Angelica and Eliza didn’t. They knew that was not an empty threat. They hadn’t forgotten Twelfth Nights past.

The adults gathered the children and ushered them down the stairs, quick to take their seats around the large table, ready for a Twelfth Night feast.

***

The party had been going for a few hours now and Angelica was loving every second of it. She was currently in the formal living room, engaged in a game of chess against Alexander. Their styles of playing were so opposite–– she deliberated, he moved quickly, seemingly with little thought. But that was what she loved most about their games–– she could never be sure of who would win.

Alexander groaned as Angelica took one of his rooks with a knight.

“I sure will miss these games,” she said without thinking.

“Well I’ll certainly be in the city often enough to engage you in one every now and then,” Alexander said, moving a pawn forward one square for reasons Angelica could not yet discern.

“Eliza hasn’t told you?” Angelica’s voice softened. She looked up from the game, her eyes waiting to meet Alexander’s.

“Your move,” he said gruffly. Then, sensing the change in the tone of their conversation, he looked up and locked his eyes on hers. “Eliza hasn’t told me what?”

“John and I… We’re…” She sighed. There was no easy way to tell Alexander, whose wits and intellect matched her own so well, better than anyone she’d ever met, what she was about to say. “We’re moving to Europe for some time,” she finally said. “For John’s business dealings.”

“Oh,” Alexander said softly. “Oh, why, yes, of course. And young Philip will be able to get a good education there, I suppose,” he added.

Angelica smiled sadly at Alexander’s talent of coming up with the proper thing to say on the spot. “Will you write me?” she asked.

That elicited a real smile from the small man who was hunched over the chessboard, his tan skin suddenly looking more sallow. “Of course,” he said.

They played without talking for some time, the chatter and laughter from the rest of the room, and the music being played in the main hallway, filling what would have been a heavy silence, weighted with griefs better left buried just beneath the surface of their skin.

“Checkmate,” Angelica said as she moved her queen into place.

“Damnit,” Alexander muttered, though he was smiling when their eyes met. “I’m looking forward to our next game,” he said, as if the previous conversation had never happened.

“As am I,” Angelica replied, watching Alexander stand, bow to her, and walk out of the room.

***

It was nearing midnight, but the festivities were continuing on. Rensselaer, unwilling to go to bed, was slumped against the hallway wall upstairs, a sleeping baby Philip in his arms, and an exhausted Cornelia leaning against his side, also fast asleep.

The adults were still dancing to the Christmas songs that musicians were playing on the violin, fortepiano, and fife. Angelica’s Philip and her toddler sister Catherine were somehow still awake, clearly captivated by the swishing and swirling of all the ladies’ skirts as they danced. Angelica’s younger brother, Philip Jeremiah, was leaning against the wall, towering above the smaller children, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a scowl on his face.

Angelica, noticing her fifteen-year-old brother’s grumpy demeanor, took the break between songs to float over to him. “Will you indulge your sister in a dance?” she asked sweetly, holding out her hand to him.

He rolled his eyes, but took her hand and led her back to the dance floor.

The group of musicians started up again, this time playing Good King Wenceslas, a crowd favorite. Angelica watched as Eliza swished by, her blue dress brushing against Angelica’s pink one as they passed. A few feet away was Peggy, with a much less anxious-looking Stephen. It must have been the spirits in the apple cider, Angelica thought to herself with a smirk.

Angelica tried to imagine Twelfth Night without her family, but she simply couldn’t. She didn’t want to think about being an ocean away from all of the people she loved most in the world.

Just as the song ended, baby Philip began to cry. Eliza rushed to him, gently taking him from Rensselaer’s arms.

Angelica yawned, and that was how she knew the celebration was nearly over. If she was tired, everyone else had to be exhausted.

Slowly, people began to take their leave, heading out into the chill night, climbing in their horse-drawn carriages to make their way back to the city of Albany, which was but a mile away, though the mile that separated them was a thick, dark forest. Other guests from across the river and further away were given cots to sleep on, the dance floor turning into their sleeping area for the night.

Angelica followed Eliza and Peggy into their old bedroom–– the room Cornelia and Catherine now called their own. For tonight, the two young girls were on a cot, Cornelia’s arm protectively looped around Catherine’s tiny body.

“I remember when that was us,” Angelica said, a fond smile on her face. She looked up at her sisters. “What will I do without you?” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.

Eliza and Peggy were quick to envelope Angelica in a hug.

“We’ll get through it,” Eliza promised.

“We’ll write every day,” Peggy said.

Angelica just sobbed onto her sisters’ shoulders. She loved adventures. She loved going to new places, and she already knew Europe would be so intellectually stimulating for her. So why was she so sad?

Their warmth. Their love, she thought. That’s why I’m sad. Europe will be devoid of that.

“Even an ocean away, we’ll be there for you, Angie,” Eliza said.

“You’ll be back in no time. Just you wait,” Peggy added.

Angelica smiled, her face still hidden in her sisters’ shoulders and hair. “I love you,” she said.

They hugged her tighter.

Twelfth Night had come to an end, but the warmth and love that made it so festive, so enjoyable, certainly hadn’t.