#hamilton fanfic

[astralaffairs]

hi!! before i go i jus wanna say, I love your work 🙏🏽 and I finally watch hamilton last night so I might write for it as well 😋😋 but i have a drabble idea.

anyways— thomas having a dance/ball for a campaign during the election and he meets aaron’s little sister, mc, who snuck in. and he can’t help but take interests in her.

“Now, what’s a lady like you doin’ getting a drink just for yourself? Nobody’s offered to do that for you yet?”

Y/N froze as her fingers met the stem of the champagne flute. She had promised herself she would stay to the outskirts of the ball, and her only goal for the night had been to avoid courting attention. However, the packed room was warm, and it was only more so at its perimeter under the lights, and the crisp bubbly had looked oh-so-inviting.

She turned with a polite smile as she picked up the glass, but her eyes widened when she saw the man behind her with his gleaming smile and his velvet suit. She recognized him instantly; after all, she’d seen him before, and he’d even been in her home, but they’d never formally met. He raised an eyebrow when her smile faltered. “I’ve only just arrived. I haven’t had a chance to speak to much of anyone just yet.”

“Then I’m gonna have to count myself lucky to have found you when I did. Thomas Jefferson.” He offered her a hand as he introduced himself, and when she took it, he dipped down to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes went even wider.

She cleared her throat as he drew himself back up to his full height, still holding her by the fingertips, and it took a moment for it to occur to her to withdraw her hand. “You’re the host of this ball, then, if I’m not mistaken. Thank you for opening your home to us like this.”

“Believe me, sugar, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Who’re you here with? Feel like I’ve seen you around, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Oh, um, my family’s here somewhere. I came on my own, though, and I was planning to meet them here.”

“Your family?” He pursed his lips. “You’re not a Schuyler, are you?”

“No, no, certainly not,” she replied before hastily adding, “although the Schuylers are lovely people, of course. To be a part of their family would make one lucky.”

“So you know the Schuylers, then?” he mused, and she nodded. His growing smile was making her mouth go dry. “I know where I recognize you from; you’re a Burr, aren’t you? Aaron’s sister?”

“I am, yes.” Her smile was tense, laced with unease. His grin was bright as he plucked a drink for himself off of the table behind them.

“So why haven’t I seen you at one of these before? Your family trying to keep you locked away from all the politics?” he asked, and as her eyebrows fell, he could see the look in her eyes sour.

“They’ve decided I can’t be trusted at this kind of event,” she said bitterly, and he quirked a brow. “Aaron claims he’s afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and jeopardize his career, but really, I think he just can’t deal with the idea of splitting people’s attention between us.”

“But you finally proved yourself trustworthy?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his drink, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

“I suppose so.”

“Then where’s your dear brother now, hm? Why aren’t you here with the rest of your family?” He watched her expectantly, and when she didn’t answer right away, his grin broadened. “They don’t even know you’re here, do they?”

“No, and you’re not going to be the one to tell them,” she said sharply, pointing her champagne flute at him. He raised his eyebrows, amused by the fervor in her tone. “I had to walk miles alone in the dark to get here; I am not being thrown out as soon as I arrive.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you’re not with them, then really, I should be sendin’ you on your way.” Despite the threat, his voice was breezy, and she frowned.

“And what do you have to gain from kicking me out?”

“The respect and appreciation of your family,” he suggested blithely. “The knowledge that I’m not leavin’ a young lady to walk home alone ‘n vulnerable at the end of the night. ‘S just the right thing to do, really.”

She eyed his small smile for a moment before slowly asking, “But despite that, you’d rather I stay, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged unabashedly. “You’re quite shameless, aren’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Only on a good day.” He winked as he took a sip of his drink. “After all, you went through all that effort to get here. There’s gotta be a good reason for it, huh?”

“Of course. I’m here to expand my mind just like everyone else," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“And not for the charming future president we’ve got roaming the ball?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware there was one. Let me know if you see him?”

His full laugh proved him undeterred, and Y/N’s self-satisfied smile was reluctant. "'M glad to see you inherited more of the family wit than your brother seemed to."

"Please, don't tell him that. A lady needs to keep some things a secret."

"It'll stay between us, then," Thomas said, "but I don't think I ever got your name."

"Why, so you know whose presence to report to my brother?"

"So I know who to ask after the next time I see him." His response was quick, and it had Y/N on her heels. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, but when she opened her mouth to answer—

"Y/N." Both she and Thomas turned on their heels at the loud voice to find her brother striding across the room toward them, and her groan was unchecked. The fury in Aaron's voice was barely contained. "What in the world do you think you're possibly doing here, sneaking out after dark? How did you even get here?"

"I brought myself, since nobody else was willing to take me," she bit back, and Thomas raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Aaron snapped. "We are a family, and you have to respect that—"

"Respect what? That you have total control over my life in the name of family values? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" she asked. "I respect that you have a career and a reputation to maintain, but I am a person, and—"

"And nothing, Y/N. Put the drink down, and leave Mr. Jefferson at peace," he demanded, and Y/N narrowed her eyes, her jaw set. Aaron turned to Thomas, and much of the fire in his voice had subsided when he said, "I'm sorry for her intrusion, Thomas. We didn't know she had followed us here, and we'll send her home at once."

"Now, Aaron, what makes you think she's uninvited company?" Thomas asked, and both Y/N's and Aaron's brows were raised. "Y/N's my guest here this evening; 's the opposite of an intrusion."

He frowned, glancing between Thomas and Y/N. "You mean you're responsible for her presence here tonight?"

"Well, I invited her, so I suppose you could say that," he said casually, and if he winked when he caught Y/N's eye, Aaron didn't think anything of it. Aaron's lips were pursed and his shoulders tense as he glanced between them.

"Why didn't you tell me Thomas had invited you?" he asked Y/N, and she shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it, and I didn't want you trying to prevent me from coming."

"If I'd known he asked you to come—"

"So, what, my personhood is dependent on his permission now?"

"Your presence here is, at least."

"As a Burr, I would've been welcome either way."

"Not unattended, however."

"I can attend to myself just fine."

"You know that isn't what I mean when—"

"Aaron, was there somethin' else you needed?" Thomas cut him off, and Aaron's gaze was affronted when it snapped to him. However, he held his tongue. "I was just about to ask Y/N to dance, assuming that's her decision to make 'n all."

Y/N had to bite back her smile at his words, and although Aaron seemed to recognize the challenge in them as his jaw ticked, he said, "Of course. I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"Don't sweat it. Your concern for your sister is awful sweet, even if it isn't needed here," Thomas responded, his smile warm.

"'Concern' isn't how I'd describe it," Y/N muttered bitterly, and Thomas nudged her with his elbow. She frowned.

"Carry on 'n enjoy the rest of the ball, though, and please send my best to your wife," he said. Aaron could only offer a tense smile in response.

“You as well. I suppose I should go find Theodosia.” He looked down skeptically at Y/N. “How are you planning to get home?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I…” She hadn’t thought that far, so her gaze was hopeful when it snapped to Thomas, who held her with a hand at the small of her back.

“I’ll arrange for a carriage to take her home,” he promised. “Don’t you worry, Burr. She’s in safe hands.”

“Right,” he said hesitantly, looking Thomas over. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t do anything stupid, Jefferson.”

“‘S like you don’t even know who you’re talkin’ to,” Thomas said incredulously, and Aaron scoffed.

“I’m sure.” He barely spared them both another glance before departing unceremoniously, shaking his head all the while, and Thomas chuckled. Y/N turned back toward him.

“You’re a regular local hero,” she said sardonically, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her bored tone. Thomas grinned.

“I do try, sweetheart,” he said lightly, “maybe even in a way that deserves a ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you.” Her voice was sincere. “Really. I owe you.”

“Well, if you mean that,” he said, and his eyes were shining as he looked down at her, “I wouldn’t mind making good on that dance I mentioned. Unless you’re in a real rush to get back to your dear old brother.”

He offered her his arm with an eyebrow raised, and she left her empty glass on the table behind them when she took it, drawing a wide grin from him. “How could I say no to our charming host?"

[dorkszn]

— letting you do their hair

— thomas j, alexander h, and phillip h x gn reader, john laurens x masc reader

+ black coded reader for thomas and john! modern-ish au!

PHILLIP H !

✩ he loves letting you do this hair. sometimes you don’t even have to ask, he’ll ask you.

✩ he only trust you and his parents to wash it and take care of it

✩ you style it a lot for him and eliza loves it

✩ tender headed as fuck

✩ if someone flirts with him in public, especially if they bring up his hair, he’ll just go on and on about you

✩ “oh my hair? yeah it’s nice, ain’t it? my (s/o) did it. Aren’t they so skilled?”

✩ you teach him how to braid his hair and style it the way you do so he can do them himself if there’s a time you’re not around

☆ watching your favorite shows 🤝 washing and drying his hair

THOMAS J !

☆ he is so protective of his hair. like he’s the only one allowed to touch it

☆ so obviously it took you a lot of begging and convincing but he eventually gave in

☆ he’ll make snarky comments and act like a baby when you first wash his hair or attempt to style it but a little pop with the comb gets him to shut up

☆ he almost fell asleep the first time you braided his hair, but he likes to pretend it never happened

☆ so embarrassed to ask you to wash his hair and you can’t help but tease him for it

☆ after a while, he had you braiding his hair once a week for an extra curl

☆ you guys have matching bonnets

☆ he will literally call James mid hair session and just start talking about the government with him

☆ he was very skeptical about your products but eventually they become the only thing he uses

ALEXANDER H !

☆ he was genuinely surprised when you asked him to do his hair

☆ he hadn’t had anyone to do it or take care of it for years, especially since his mother passed

☆ “you’d do that for me?” he’d question, genuine shock on his face

☆ and it takes all of both of you to not start crying when you do take care of his hair

☆ the first time you washed it for him was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him

☆ it was the most loved he’d felt for a while

☆ then there were times were you just played in his hair

☆ whether we was working or just watching tv, you were putting silly little styles in his hair. and it he loves it. he thinks it’s adorable.

☆ some mornings, he ask you to put his hair up for him or slick it back for him just so he can have the best start to his day

☆ his hair was very first thing he asked you to do when he came back from war

☆ scalp massages >>>

☆ they’re one of the only things that convince him to leave his office, just for a little bit

JOHN L !

☆ after he meets you, he refuses to do his hair unless you’re away on a trip

☆ he whines and pleads, making an excuses on “how you do so much better” and “how loved it makes him feel” while giving you kisses

☆ but if you’re truly tired, of course he’ll give you a break

☆ you came home once and found him wearing your bonnet/durag

☆ you also do most of his haircuts

☆ he doesn’t mind his hair growing out but he knows it’s getting too long when you start beating him while play fighting

☆ to him if you’re winning, his hair is messing with his vision and it’s a “handicap”

☆ definitely gets popped with the comb everytime you do his hair

“john, could you turn your head just a little bit?” you question, your frustration already growing. he couldn’t help but tease you constantly, it was in his nature. he slightly turns his head with a small smirk on his face, knowing he was pissing you off.

“john, don’t play with me right no—“ you cut off your words when john grabs you by the waist and pulls you in and onto his lap. his hand gripping the outside of your thigh to support you as you straddle his legs.

“this angle good enough for you?” he asks, giving you his typically stupid grin. you can’t help but softly smile as you look at him, your previous anger from before leaving.

“t’s fine, i guess.” you shrug before going back to attempting to cut his hair.

“see? why let anyone else do my hair when i can have you do it for free and get a lap dance at the same time?” he says nonchalantly, continuing to scroll on his phone. his free hand caress your thigh and slithering back to ass.

“john, i swear you’re going to wake up bald one day.”

[froggywritesstuff]

lafayette, thomas jefferson, alexander hamilton, and john laurens with an s/o who stutters

Pairings: Lafayette, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, and John Laurens (seperately) x g/n!reader with a stutter

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, mentions of ableism (i think?)

Time: not specified but probably modern

request: anonymous: heyyyy can I request Hamilton headcanons (separately) for Lafayette, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, and John Laurens with a s/o who stutters? 

A/N: idk why this took so long considering they're so short but i hope you like it. also idk if some of this stuff applies to everyone who stutters, but i mainly based some of this around how my stutter is so apologies if you can't relate to some of this stuff

Lafayette

with english being his second language, he isn't always the best at speaking it, so he's super patient and understanding with you. he legitimately doesn't care if he has to listen to you repeat and restart the same sentence ten times until you can finally say that one word you're stuck on.

Thomas Jefferson

to be honest, he's kind of an asshole when he first hears you stuttering. it has nothing to do with you, he's just not very educated about it. but he does do his research and apologises like, a hundred times for making fun of it. from that moment on he doesn't really bring any attention to your stutter whenever he hears it, not wanting to ever make you feel bad about it again if he brought it up. but he will throw hands if he sees someone making fun of your stutter.

Alexander Hamilton

I kid you not, this man will be cursing anyone out if he even thinks they’re judging you for your stutter. he's super patient when it comes to you, and never rushes you when you stutter. if someone else tries to rush you when you're stuttering he just gives them a cold death glare to shut them up, and when you're out of ear shot he'll just verbally murder them.

John Laurens

he's just like. super sweet and understanding about it. if you're ever in public and he can see you're anxious about talking, he knows instantly how to calm you down and ease your nerves. 

buy me a coffee <3

[floralcyanide]

reminder that writing fic about someone playing a character who was a real person is NOT THE SAME as writing fic about the real person. they are two different entities- one is a CHARACTER one is an ACTUAL PERSON.

[alexanderhamilkovsky]

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

New chapter this week. Here’s an illustration from me.

[cecescomposition]

Hello, Lovelies! Here’s a little teaser for a longer fic hopefully to be posted tomorrow. I love me some redcoat Alex!

John sprints across camp and through headquarters towards the general’s rooms with a toothy grin on his face. In his hand he clenches a letter of the utmost importance. He’s amazed, so so happy- no, thrilled. With a desperate gust of air, he pulls the door to the general’s office open with a little too much force.

“Your Excellency-!” He starts, quickly coming to a halt in the middle of the room. But the general isn’t there. Only

“Alexander,” John breathes out, chest heaving from the dash he just took across camp.

“John,” Hamilton greets his companion with a confused smile. He stands slowly, stretching his arms into the air. John can see the ink staining his fingertips, the edges of his sleeves.

“Where is the general?”

“Patrol.”

“When are you expecting him?” John can barely stand still, shifting his weight from one foot to the other anxiously. Alexander suddenly takes notice of this, and he peers at Laurens with an intense curiosity only he can muster.

“Not for a few more hours yet. John, what’s got you so worked up?”

Laurens’s smile returns ten fold. He triumphantly (and quite dramatically) raises the parchment in his hand above him.

“We’ve received news from the spies. We can end the war.”

Hamilton’s face flashes with a plethora of emotions before landing on a wide grin that matches John’s. “What!”

He makes a mad grab for the letter, but Laurens pulls it out of reach.

“John, let me see!”

“I’m under strict instruction to only bring this to Washington’s hands,”

Hamilton’s smile snaps down into a tight line. “John, let me see the letter, please.”

The shift in his tone startles John. His smile fades - much slower and more confused than Hamilton’s had - and his brow furrows.

“Alex- I’m sure the general will be more than happy to-“

In the next few moments, three things happen. One: Alexander makes a dash for the door, but quickly closes and locks it rather than leaving. Two: a pistol is drawn from its hiding place in his coat and pointed at Laurens. Three: John realizes something is very, very wrong.

[cerdessius]

hi shading is hard so I’ve made the executive decision to say fuck that

um so this is what I’m considering to be (hopefully) the first in a series where I draw the images sent by the characters in my hamilton chatfic!!

this image is from the first chapter! my very lovely boys

maybe eventually I will learn how to shade properly and update this GHFGFHFHDJ

[moosoobi]

Oops! what’s this? I dropped a snippet of Battle Royale Chapter 2?

“What is this…” he hesitated with his pronunciation “... Courting season that you all speak of?” The French man asked.

Jefferson was the first to speak up. “Swoop a woman off your feet–”

Lafayette cut him off “--That sounds too easy–”

Jefferson continued “--and she may just become your wife.”

“Excuse me?” Lafayette held a confused expression

The other men laughed at his naieveness.

“You can’t be serious. You’re going to be our biggest competitor, and you’re not even aware of the competition?” Hamilton exclaimed.

Lafayette put his hands up in defense. “Don’t blame me! When the President sends you an invitation, you simply can’t refuse!” his snarky smile revoked a bitter reaction from the group.

[c0nsumemy5oul]

Special Someone on the Side

"You're very kind but I'm afraid it's unlawful, sir." "What do you mean?" "She's married." "I see." "She's married to a British officer." "Oh shit."

No one asked for it, but here are my thoughts on this interaction:

There are things between the lines!

and I wrote them.

Enjoy :)

Hamburr friendship :3 (mentioned hamiliza and lams) 629 words.

It was a pleasant night after Hamilton’s wedding. Eliza was bidding her family goodbye while he was supposed to do the same with his friends, but here they were, getting even more drunk. 

Burr showed up, seemingly failing to have talked to Alexander during the event and was trying his best to ignore the boys and their teasing. 

He was almost done congratulating Hamilton on his marriage and his position as aide-de-camp to Washington, when Laurens deemed the subject too boring and changed it. 

“Well, well, I heard,” He got uncomfortably close to Burr. “You got a special someone on the side, Burr.” He shot Alexander a sneaky glance.

“Is that so?” Hamilton laughed at his boyfriend's antics.

“What’re you tryna hide, Burr?” Laurens slurred in Burr’s ear who’d reached his limit. 

“I should go.” 

Hamilton instantly disagreed. “No, these guys should go.” 

“What?” Laurens turned to Hamilton in thinly veiled betrayal. “No!” 

“Leave us alone.” Hamilton gave him a pointed look. I’m getting us the gossip. 

“Man!” Laurens rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing Lafayette and Mulligan as they stalked away, resigned. 

Being with Hamilton alone seemed to make Burr slightly nervous. 

“It’s alright, Burr.” Alexander smiled a little. “I wish you’d brought this girl with you tonight.” Hamilton couldn’t help seeing that Burr was lacking a plus one at the wedding. 

“You’re very kind,” Burr looked down, fidgeting with the handkerchief in his hand. Hamilton spotted the initials T.B.P. Now who could that belong to? The special someone on the side, perhaps? “But I’m afraid it’s unlawful, sir.” 

Oh? 

Is it? 

In what way? 

Hamilton found himself thinking of his nights with Laurens, in their tent, under the cover of night. 

Had Burr also found a lad during their battles? 

“What do you mean?” Hamilton asked, a light tone and a smirk emerging with the words. If Burr was going to confess something, he wanted him to know he’d be accepted. 

“She’s married.” 

Oh. Hamilton deflated. “I see.”

No matter, they might still be able to work around this. Burr could be with his beau regardless. With a simple divorce, or even a duel for the lady’s honor, it could be manageable. As long as she isn’t— 

“She’s married to a British officer.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Hamilton hadn’t realized he’d said it outloud until he heard Burr chuckle self-deprecatingly. 

“Congrats again, Alexander.” Burr turned to go but Hamilton’s mind was still reeling. 

There must still be a way for his friend and the one he loves to be together. 

“Smile more.” Burr was walking away. 

They could be happy and in love and together without a random British officer in their way. 

“I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” Wait, what? He’ll simply give up like that? 

“I will never understand you.” Hamilton found himself saying. 

Burr turned around, confused. They were alone on the terrace, the quiet lull of people leaving the building could be heard distantly. 

“If you love this woman, go get her!” Yes, he might lose his head in the process, but for love! Isn’t he willing to risk everything to get what he wants? “What are you waiting for?” 

Burr eyed Alexander carefully, trying to discern something before he sighed. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” 

He’s beyond saving. Hamilton sighed back, resigned. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” 

When Washington had finally given him a command, Hamilton made sure to wound and kill every single British officer he came into contact with. 

To this day, he’s not sure if he did kill Theodosia’s late-husband personally, but she’s living happily with Burr in married bliss and having Hamilton and his wife over for tea and biscuits weekly. 

So Burr won anyway.

[diane-the-phoenix-awen]

I am currently working on pt 2 of Passion: The Life and Loves of Alexander Hamilton, The Collegian. This part covers Alexander Hamilton's arrival in the mainland US, his friendships with people such as Hercules Mulligan, Robert Troup, Nicholas Fish, Ned Stevens, the Livingstons and Boudinots. His first meetings with many people including Aaron Burr, Gouverneur Morris, Myles Cooper, John Jay, and the Schuylers. His education in Elizabethtown, NJ and at Kings College. His "exploration" of "The Holy Ground." His pamphlet war with Samuel Seabury. His first military trainings and actions leading up to his fighting his first battles in the American Revolutionary War.

If you are interested in being a BETA READER for future parts, send me a message. Much appreciated!

Part 3 will cover his involvement in the war, his relationship with George Washington and the "family" of aides-de-camp, esp. John Laurens and Lafayette, his wooing of ladies, especially Elizabeth Schuyler, and their early marriage, ending with the victory at Yorktown and the birth of his first child Philip.

There will be more parts subsequently following these parts and covering the rest of his life, leading up to his duel with Aaron Burr and his death.

Release dates are fluid as I work full time and have had many health challenges in the past couple of years, but I will post updates on this blog so follow and stay tuned!

[aswithasunbeam]

Madison, March 1815

Madison swallowed, forcing his ears to pop as the coach finished climbing the mountaintop and swung into the drive before Monticello. Dolley stretched her arms and back on the seat in front of him, preparing to disembark after the long journey. The shifting of the baggage in the back of the carriage began simultaneously with the carriage door being opened for them.

Two of Jefferson’s young grandchildren came tearing across the lawn, shouting to each other as they chased a hoop. Dolley smiled at them and remarked, “Jefferson does like to keep his house full, doesn’t he?”

Madison chuckled, finishing a big stretch before reaching out to offer her his arm. Together, they moved towards the entrance. The walls were decorated with Native artifacts of all kinds, shipped to Thomas by Louis and Clark during their expedition years earlier. Thomas had turned his front room into a kind of museum to entertain visitors to his mountain retreat.

“Hail the conquering heroes,” Patsy Randolph greeted, sweeping from the main parlor towards them with a gracious smile. “Welcome to Monticello, Mr. President. Mrs. Madison.”

“Oh, stop you. We’ve had quite enough of that nonsense,” Dolley said, stepping forward to give Patsy a kiss. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“Is the great man in?” Madison asked.

Patsy laughed. “Father’s back in his office, still packing his books to ship to Washington. He says he's still organizing and indexing everything. In all honesty, I think he finished ages ago and he’s just saying his goodbyes now, though he won’t admit it.”

“I’m surprised he was willing to part with such a large portion of his library. Grateful, of course, but surprised.” After the Library of Congress had been burned during the British occupation of Washington, Jefferson had generously offered his own collection as a replacement. Congress had jumped at the offer.

“I was floored,” Patsy agreed. “I thought he’d part with me and the grandchildren before ever parting with his books.”

“Nonsense,” Madison said, though when he locked eyes with Patsy, they both grinned with mutual understanding.

“You can go right on back,” Patsy invited. “May I offer you some tea, Mrs. Madison?”

Madison took the first door on the right to cut through the family parlor and made his way into Thomas’s private office. Crates upon crates had turned the space into something of a maze. He pushed forward in the general direction of Jefferson’s desk and called, “Thomas?”

“Just in here,” Thomas’s voice called back.

Navigating through a narrow path in the boxes, he found an opening to where Thomas’s silvery-auburn hair was catching the sunlight from the windows. Thomas’s hand was stroking the spines of a stack of books near his desk; Madison had to force down a smile at the sight. When he managed to take the seat across from Thomas’s desk, Thomas asked, “I’m glad to see you finally escaped from Washington. Was it as exuberant as it sounded?”

“News of peace brought quite an explosion of joy from the populous,” Madison agreed.

Madison would never forget that blessed day.

Hamilton had been seated in his office, pouring over the latest dispatches about their victory in New Orleans along with Burr’s efforts to rally the people around a Canadian advance. New Orleans had greatly whetted the general appetite to attack the British on all fronts, relegating discussions about the report from the Hartford Convention to a mere secondary news item.

Edward Coles had opened the door to the office with wide, hopeful eyes. “Mr. Monroe and Mr. Carroll to see you, sir.”

Hamilton shifted up in his chair, spine straight with expectation. The same hope had begun to swell in his violet eyes. “Henry Carroll?”

Madison had nodded once, deliberately, his breath caught in his chest.

“Should I go?” Hamilton offered.

“No,” Madison said. “You, out of everyone in this country, deserve to hear this first.”

The large chest landed on his wooden desk with a decisive thunk. Coles did the honor of unlocking it and pulling out the cover letter from Henry Clay.

“There are omissions,” Monroe had cautioned. “Significant omissions that will raise more than a few eyebrows in Congress.”

“Eyebrows, perhaps, but not voices,” Hamilton had said. A smile brightened his features, the worry that had burdened his brow lifting as he considered what he’d heard. “You can defend this, Jemmy. This will pass the Senate.”

“I agree,” he’d said. “I agree most emphatically.”

Peace.

Good Lord, peace at last.

The news had traveled through the city like wildfire, popping the thick tension that had laid over every citizen like a needle to an overfilled balloon. Fireworks erupted into the night, music threaded through the air, and champagne poured freely in every house along the street.

“I expected nothing less,” Thomas said, smiling as he brought Madison back from his wandering thoughts. “Congratulations, Jemmy. You must be overjoyed to have completed your trials. Are you already preparing the way for your successor?”

“I’ve a bit more time left on my term, as you well know,” Madison said with a sigh. “But hopefully the most eventful occurrences are now behind us.”

“Hear, hear,” Thomas concurred. “Efforts are underway to unwind that beastly standing army, I hope?”

“Yes, indeed,” Madison agreed, though a tinge of sadness accompanied the thought.

Hamilton had been his rock, his steadying presence as the worst of the war unfolded. Having to shake his hand to bid him farewell had been unexpectedly emotional for him.

Hamilton had gripped his hand firmly, and remarked slyly, “I doubt this is the last you’ll see of me. At last count, I had fifteen different inquiries on my desk requesting advice regarding a Second National Bank.”

“That sounds more of a threat than a reassurance,” Madison had countered.

“Take it as you will,” Hamilton had shrugged, mischief brightening his eyes. With more sincerity, he’d added, “You’re always welcome at the Grange, Jemmy.”

Thomas was nodding in approval at the news that their army was being dismantled. “An unnecessary and dangerous force, to be sure. New Orleans proved that an assembly of volunteers can easily defeat an army when put to the task of defending their homes.”

Madison frowned. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed in return. “No?”

“New Orleans was a lucky circumstance, where Jackson could choose his battle ground. The entrenchment assured the men could be well protected while reloading their firearms, while the British were forced to fight on open land. Not every battle is so ideally situated.” Bladensburg still loomed in his memory; the smell of smoke, the screaming wrenching the air, the terror as that snake of red loomed ever closer.

Thomas gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “No matter. The need has passed, in any event. Although, the three-headed serpent will still need watching.”

Madison’s head cocked to the side, a moment passing before he understood Thomas’s meaning: Hamilton, Burr, and Jackson, the three military heroes to emerge from the conflict. “They are quite popular.”

“Jackson was a great apologist for Burr back in ’07,” Thomas noted. “Will loyalty keep him in second place, do you think? Or will he battle Burr for the honor?”

“I couldn’t say,” Madison said, pondering.

“I suppose the great unanswered question is, what will Hamilton do?”

“Surely, he would intervene if Burr took up the notion of public office again,” Madison said. Then again, he’d seen the two men together recently. Hamilton seemed easier with Burr, a camaraderie existing between them Madison never would have expected. And Burr had looked at Hamilton differently, a sort of gratitude and…loyalty suffusing his gaze.

Monroe had designs on the highest office, of course. His efforts to see the Treaty of Ghent through were meant to push him above the military exploits of the others who might try for the seat. But Hamilton’s position remained strong. Hamilton had been the country’s bedrock as much as Madison’s when it came to military matters, a steadying presence who had defended the capital with his very life. Hamilton had stayed in the city, had tried his best to repel the attack. Just as he’d assured Madison from his hospital bed later, people remembered that they’d tried, even where they’d failed.

Would Hamilton…no. Madison took a breath. He’d said more than once that he had no interest in returning to politics. But that gleam of mischief in his eyes…and his feeling towards Monroe were hardly a secret….

Madison met Thomas’s eyes across the desk.

“We may have a problem.”

[dorkszn]

modern!john laurens definitely yells “GYATT” whenever he sees you

[froggywritesstuff]

Care To Dance? | Philip Hamilton

Pairings: Philip Hamilton x male!reader

Warnings: fluff, implications of homophobia

Time: Hamiltime

A/N: this doesn't really make sense but i wanted to do some more cute gay stuff for pride month

Y/N stepped inside the obnoxiously large ballroom, a sigh escaping his lips as he adjusted the uncomfortable collar he was forced to wear. To say Y/N hated the balls and dances they were made to go to would be an understatement. The idea of parents forcing their children to socialise with other people in hopes to get them married and out of the house was slightly unsettling to Y/N.

Not to mention the fact that no one wanted to set up their son with someone else's son. 

Y/N knew he'd never have any luck courting a woman. He couldn't. But with every year, his parents got more and more hooked on the idea that he could. He wanted to, he really did. But he knew he couldn't. It wasn't fair. He didn't want to lead anyone on. And lying didn't feel right. Unless he could find some other closeted kid who would agree to marry him for some reason, he was screwed.

"Y/N, hurry up," he heard his father hiss, only just realising how slow he was walking. It's not like he was sprinting at the chance to meet some girl he would have to awkwardly refuse courtship to. 

He reluctantly sped up his walk, looking around at the large crowds of people, all happily mingling together.

Y/N was far from their parents now. They were either walking too fast, or Y/N had been too slow and wasn’t paying attention.

Everything was just so overwhelming and different. He couldn’t not look at everything. He had walked off far from his parents and was barely paying attention to where he was going, when he bumped into someone else, sending the two falling to the floor.

"Oh, god I'm so sorry," Y/N apologised quickly, keeping his voice hushed so as to not attract any unwanted attention from a place he already didn't want to be.

”It’s fine, no need to worry,” the other person said as he stood up from the floor, sending Y/N a reassuring smile. Y/N could feel his heart speeding up dramatically. He held out his hand for Y/N, who instead stood up on their own, leaving the man’s hand hanging. He played it off and ran a hand through his long, curled hair, which had Y/N more flustered than he’d ever been, “My name’s Philip.”

Y/N recomposed himself, ripping his eyes away from all the freckles on Philip's face (he could've stood there for hours trying to count them all), “I know who you are, Philip. You’re Alexander’s son. I saw you one time at a cabinet meeting my father made me go to.”

Philip’s smile widened at his words, “Oh yeah, you’re F/N’s son, right?”

”Yeah.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Before Y/N could give a most likely awkward response, he caught sight of his parents walking through the crowd, most likely looking for Y/N.

”Uh, I apologise Philip, my parents are looking for me, I have to go.”

”Wait,” Philip stopped him, catching the boy by surprise, “Would you mind coming with me somewhere? I promise it won’t take long.”

Y/N felt his heart rate pick up at Philip’s question, before muttering a quiet: “Sure.”

A wave of fear hit Y/N as Philip led him into a room at the back of the ballroom. Inside, it was dimly lit, the quiet crackling of candle wicks were the only sound that could be heard.

Y/N cleared his throat, careful not to sound too scared, “So, what did you need, Philip?” he asked, only becoming more nervous as Philip stood still in front of him. His heart was pounding with worry, 'What could he possibly want from me? Does  he know my secret somehow? But how would he know that? Who else knows? Oh god-'

"Would you care to dance?"

Y/N froze, his gaze switching from Philip's warm, hazel eyes to his outstretched hand, "What?"

"Would you care to dance?" he repeated.

"Wha... you... you're...." Y/N couldn't even produce full sentences.

Philip shrugged his shoulders slightly, "Well, I figured you wouldn't wanna dance with me out there." he explained, taking a step closer to Y/N, "And I couldn't leave without having a dance with you."

Y/N's heart was racing, but not because of worry anymore, "I-I... What if someone sees us?" maybe still with a little bit of worry.

"No one comes in here," he edged his hand closer to Y/N’s, so that the tips of his hand were touching his, “You can trust me, Y/N.”

“I mean, I just met you, and have no reason to trust you at all,” he whispered, his hand gently pressing against Philip’s, “But I do wanna dance with you.”

A smile formed on Philip’s lips as he intertwined his fingers with Y/N’s and lifted their hands up beside their shoulders. He could practically hear the sound of Y/N’s heart thumping as he placed his hand against their waist, and Y/N placed his hand on Philip’s shoulder.

Y/N thought he should’ve felt uncomfortable or awkward dancing with Philip, but if he was being honest, he felt more comfortable with Philip than he had ever been in his life. In the five minutes they had known each other, Philip somehow had Y/N feeling safe. Safe to be himself for once. 

Neither of them needed to say anything to each other as they danced in each other's arms, the sound of their hearts keeping the beat.

They wanted to stay in that room with each other forever. Just the two of them, no one else to tell them they couldn't. But, they knew that eventually, they'd have to open the door and face the cruel and close-minded world.

"Philip," he mumbled, looking down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with Philip, "I really don't want to leave you."

Philip sighed, nodding his head, "I don’t either."

Y/N paused, “Do… do you promise you’ll write to me?”

A small smile graced Philip’s lips, “Everyday.”

“You promise?” Y/N asked, a nervous but hopeful look on his face.

Philip smiled, wrapping his arms around Y/N, pulling him into a tight hug, resting his head in the crook of their neck, “I promise.”

buy me a coffee <3

[jittyjames]

means to go on update!!

come get y'all's juice

[my-deer-friend]

Bad WIP Summary

Thanks for the tag, @gracehosborn!

Here are a few of the likelier ones to get written to choose from:

Tagging @faceofpoe, @ouiouixmonami, @enchi-elm, @meerawrites, @dearxtallxboy and all the other lovely writers out there.

[alexanderhamilkovsky]

Official Theory of Slavery John and Hamilton playlists, finally complete. As canon as it can get to the TOS lore, pretty much. Enjoy.

You can read the AU here: