a/n: i was trying to think of a prompt for this gwash request and this idea just popped into my head and??? i couldn’t stop laughing lmao hope u guys enjoy! (ps if u want more all u have to do is ask ;)
request: Please please please write George Washington x reader fluff. I’m begging.
word count: 1011 words
“Burr, get a medic for the general.” Washington growled.
“Yes, Sir.” He stated as Lee was carried away.
After a talk with Hamilton, General Washington decided to check on Charles Lee. Although Lee said some very rude things, it was his duty to make sure his men were ok.
“Lee, since you are unfit to serve here any longer I am afraid to tell you that you will be discharged. Is there anyone we can contact to assist you on your way back home?” He asked formerly.
Lee hissed as he moved upright on the cot to look at the other general. “My sister, Sir. She shouldn’t live too far away from here, although she might not be very pleasant when she arrives.” He shivered.
Washington furrowed his eyebrows and marched to his tent to write a letter to Ms. Lee about her brother’s current state and the situation that brought them to this conclusion. After he was finished, he asked one of his men to deliver it. Now all he had to do was wait. ~ “Where is he?!” Washington heard a women’s voice shriek as he was drafting plans for the next battle. He heard Hamilton’s voice trying to calm her down but to no avail she kept demanding to see whomever “he” was.
His tent was flung open and saw Alexander walk in with a red face after being told off by said woman.
“Ms. Lee has arrived, Sir.”
George’s eyes widen as he put the pieces together and realized that it was Charles Lee the woman was searching for.
“Shall I escort her to him?” Hamilton asked.
Washington shook his head and stated he can do it as he grabbed his hat. He opened the flap to his tent and held his hand to his face as the sun’s beams showered upon him. It took his eyes a bit to adjust to the new lighting and looked to see the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on.
She had a simple navy blue dress, gorgeous (E/C) eyes, and hair that looked slightly messy from the journey to the camp. Her lips, however, were knitted in a tight frown as she looked angrily at him. Washington gulped as he made his way over to the furious but beautiful woman.
“I assume your-”
He barely got a few words out before she interrupted him.
“The sister of that idiot who got himself shot in a stupid duel over something stupid he said?” The woman spat.
The general moved slightly back, afraid if he said anything wrong she might release more of her wrath onto him. He opened his mouth but was cut off yet again by the woman.
“I am so terribly sorry,” She said as she dragged her hand across her face. “It’s just that my brother is…not the brightest.”
Washington chuckled and shook his head. “It’s quite alright, Miss. It’s completely understandable that you would be upset.” He smiled at her.
She smiled back. “I’m (Y/N) Lee.”
Washington bowed and took her hand to kiss her knuckles, “George Washington at your service, Ms. Lee.”
The lady blushed as she realized that she lashed out on the general and because he kissed her hand.
“Can I escort you to that ‘idiot brother’ of yours?” He asked as he looped an arm around hers.
Ms. Lee’s face flushed an even darker pink and nodded. The general chuckled at her silence since it was very hard to keep the woman quiet almost moments ago.
On their short walk to the medical tent, he asked about her life. She told him of her hobbies but the thing he was intrigued about her the most was that she was an assistant to a professor in the nearby college.
“You must be a brilliant woman then.” He told her.
She grinned at him, “I wouldn’t say brilliant but I would like to think I’m more educated than I should be.” She added with a wink.
The general laughed again, “You have quite the sense of humor, Ms. Lee!”
“Please call me (Y/N), General.” She told him.
“If you call me George I think we can arrange that.” He grinned at her.
When they arrived at the nurse’s station, the two were still chatting and giggling with one another and the men stationed at the tent stopped to gawk at the scene. They have never seen the general so…happy, so carefree. And to be completely honest George couldn’t remember the last time he felt this comfortable with someone else.
“Don’t you boys have somewhere to be?” The general demanded.
The three soldiers’ eyes widened and stammered an apology while scurrying off.
Washington opened the tent and allowed (Y/N) to enter first. She was about to walk in before she turned around to look at George.
“Could I have a moment alone with him?” She asked with her big (E/C) eyes.
George blushed and simply nodded his head so he didn’t say anything stupid. He watched her walk in and find her brother on his cot, dead asleep. He smiled and turned around to walk back to his tent but before he could leave he felt a soft hand clutch his.
The beautiful woman he was taken with stood up slightly on her tippy toes and whispered, “Write to me.” and kissed his cheek.
She smiled softly at him while closing the tent.
George stood outside in shock. He simply stared at the opening while reaching up to gently touch the cheek she brushed her lips against. Afterwards, he grinned and walked towards his tent to finish some business with a slight spring in his step. He was only a little ways down before he heard a yell.
George’s grin widened and set down to already write a letter to the woman he was so suddenly infatuated with.
pairing: lafayette x reader words: 2800 warnings: none except this sucks lmao summary/request: (from anon) from what I’ve read on history books, Lafayette is p clumsy. Could u do a fic where Lafayette tries (TRIES) to dance with the reader? Thanks!
Another ball, another opportunity to be bored to death while every bachelor (eligible or not) in Northern Virginia threw themselves at you. It was tiring, really, and you knew that the (usually) young men didn’t care about you or what you were like. All that mattered to them was the huge sum of money that you would inherit upon the death of your parents, who were wealthy Virginian socialites.
Your parents supported the rebellion and knew many of the men who served as driving forces behind it. There was never a week that wasn’t full to the brim with calls to make and balls to attend and host. Especially the latter.
Your mother was extremely superstitious about the whole affair. She wanted you to be married off before your twentieth birthday, some old family tradition of obscure origins. You disagreed with this philosophy and were extremely frustrated by the fact that she felt the need to host a ball nearly every other week. The sole purpose of these parties were to find a man of wealth who liked you. Somehow, the aspect of you liking the man was always overlooked.
However, all of your anger and frustrated thoughts flew out the window on the night the Marquis de Lafayette was a guest at your mother’s ball.
The day hadn’t been a great one. By your mother’s reckoning, she only had time for two well-planned balls before you turned twenty, not including the big birthday bash she was bound to organize. She ordered you to begin dressing five hours before the party even started. “You need to be ready. We’re running out of time to find you a suitor.” You had only sighed and given as respectful a yes, mother as you could manage. When it came time to begin preparations, you walked to your room, where your maidservant, Millie, who was about forty years of age (no one knew her date of birth for sure), waited.
“Hello, Millie,” you sighed.
“‘Lo, Mistress (Y/N),” she responded. “My, but you sho’ are lookin’ all down.”
“I know.” You heaved another sigh. “I’m just frustrated with my mother. It’s almost as if she thinks I like being squeezed into a corset for hours so that I can barely breathe and then being displayed to every single man in Virginia.”
“Now, now, Miss (Y/N). It cain’t be all that bad. You’re a pretty girl; why don’t you like all the attention?”
“It’s disgusting and tiring! The only men who come to Mother’s balls are bothersome wretches who don’t care a cent about me. They only see the wealth, the estate.” You gestured helplessly.
“I cain’t say I disagree. But you hafta make the best of it. And your mammy will have my skin if I don’t get you all fancied up. Now hold still.” It seemed as if you would never stop sighing.
First, you had to strip down to your chemise. Then, Millie laced up your corset so tightly you could hardly breathe. “Looser,” you gasped, as your cheeks filled with too-brilliant color and the room began to spin. She let out the strings and retied them. Much better, but still too tight. At least you could now breathe and had the illusion of a desirable hourglass figure. You hoped your mother was satisfied.
She had picked out a new dress with you a few days ago, a sweet ball gown that you had immediately fallen in love with. Your mother thought it wasn’t revealing enough, but after a few minutes of arguing back and forth, you won. “All right, but don’t blame me if not a single man is interested,” she said, feigning a resigned air with her palms upturned in a hopeless gesture. You knew it was modest compared to most of the dresses the other women would be wearing, but you didn’t want to show yourself off in that way. It was a beautiful dress and you knew it would be comfortable and relatively cool. As long as you felt safe, that was what mattered. As soon as Millie pulled it over your head and settled it, a grin crept over your face. You couldn’t help it, it just looked so pretty.
“That’s the spirit,” she said, grinning at you.
Next came your hair. After pondering for a moment, the two of you decided to leave off the wigs and unnecessary powder. You would wear your hair down in loose curls, with only a cluster of gardenias from your flower patch as ornament. You had your doubts that your mother would approve, but it didn’t matter. Then came the final touches—dancing slippers and a small pearl necklace and earrings—and your ensemble was complete. You were going to put on rouge, but your cheeks were rosy enough thanks to the corset cinching your torso. It had taken you an hour and a half to get ready, and Millie looked at her “massuhpiece” with a smug look of satisfaction upon her face.
“Well, Miss (Y/N), if you don’t find a man tonight, with you lookin’ so purty, then my name’s Mud.” You giggled; she never failed to cheer you up.
“It’s all your doing. Thank you, Millie!” You then made your way to your mother’s room for inspection, and knocked on her door.
“It’s me, Mother. I’m ready.” The door immediately opened.
“Come in, dear.” Her smile was soon replaced with a scowl. “Wherever is your wig?” she asked you. “You know you can’t possibly attend without one!” You sighed, any excitement now erased.
“I’m not wearing one, Mother. I want to be myself tonight.” She huffed.
“You are impossible. I wash my hands of the whole affair. If you aren’t married by your birthday, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
You stormed out of her room, not trusting yourself to speak, and back into yours. Millie was tidying the dressing area and she looked up, startled, as you came in and plopped angrily into a chair. “Why, didn’t she like ya?” she asked, looking worried now.
“You can’t possibly attend without a wig,” you screeched in a perfect imitation of your mother. Millie’s face melted.
“Oh, you poor thing,” she cried. “I think you’ll find someone tonight! You have to!”
Your face gave way to a weary smile. “I’m glad you think so,” you responded. “But I have my doubts.”
You stayed in your room until it was almost time for the ball to start. Somehow, you got a grim satisfaction hearing the wheels of the carriages bearing their esteemed guests to the huge front porch of your mansion. You imagined your mother all in a tizzy, wondering where you were. And, as if she could read your mind, you heard footsteps by your door whose unique rhythm could only be hers. Bracing yourself for the shriek, you opened your door.
“Yes, Mother, what is i—”
“(Y/N)! General Washington is here tonight! With his aide-de-camps and a few of his generals! I need you downstairs now!” Your eyes widened. The most famous man in Virginia was here with his legendary right hand men? Well, at least this ball wouldn’t be lacking in interest.
You rushed down the large marble staircase, hiking up your skirts so as not to trip over them. Your mother followed behind you, muttering to herself. As you entered the dancing hall, you grabbed a card from a table and quickly signed your name at the top. This would be filled out by men and would determine who you danced with for the night. After laying it back down, your mother dragged you to a spot where there was room to move.
“Stay here. I’ll bring people to you,” she said, and disappeared into the growing crowd of people. You tapped your foot impatiently as you scanned the room, returning greetings absently as you searched for Washington and his companions. After greeting three very disgusting young men your mother threw hopefully at you, you realized a shift in the mood of the crowd. The volume had gone significantly down, and small whispers were being exchanged. All eyes turned to the door and you looked right along with everyone else as three men entered the room.
It was obvious who they were. Their military bearing and dashing good looks eradicated any doubt in your mind. General Washington, Colonel Hamilton, and General Lafayette.
Washington was flanked by the other two, one on each side. His bald head was covered by a cocked hat and his tea-colored skin was smooth and seemed to be at odds with his age. He smiled gracefully as he made his way inside. Hamilton looked slightly less polished, with a scruffy, small beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail. He looked around the room at the young women and you smiled. A wandering eye. He shouldn’t be much of a problem; he’d be flirting with another girl as soon as he was done talking with you. Lafayette was another matter.
Although he walked with the same military precision and confidence as the other two, he seemed—shy. He only looked up periodically and he bit his lip as if feeling awkward and out-of-place. He had chocolate-colored skin and black corkscrew curls pulled back in a bun. You secretly thought he was the most handsome of the three.
The quiet was broken by your mother, always the gracious host. “Ah, Generals and Colonel! Welcome!” She went up to them and spoke to them. You couldn’t tell what she was saying, but you knew it had to be about you. Your suspicions were confirmed as the foursome made their way over to you.
“My daughter, (Y/N) (L/N).” You executed a beautiful curtsy, as was the custom. Washington bowed and kissed your hand. Hamilton did the same. But as Lafayette took your hand, he looked into your eyes and smiled.
“Good evening, sir,” you responded. “We are honored with your presence tonight.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hamilton glance at Washington and grin conspiratorially.
A few minutes later, most everyone had arrived and your mother announced the start of the dancing. You made your way to the card table and picked it up. Your heart raced as you saw the first name. Marquis de Lafayette.
The music began, signaling five minutes to the first dance, and you quickly found him. “Hello again,” you said, smiling shyly.
“Bonjour, mon amie.” He kissed your hand again, and you thought you could almost detect a faint blush rising upon his cheeks. It was hot in the room, however, and you quickly brushed off the color as having to do anything with you. You didn’t realize you were staring at his face until he grinned, a huge smile that stretched ear to ear and made your heart pop up into your throat.
“I am not very good at dancing,” he said. “I am afraid such a—how you say?—accomplished lady as yourself shall be very tired of me before long.” You shook your head.
“It's—it’s all right,” you told him. “I’m not very good myself.” The music began, for real this time, and you shyly placed your arm on his shoulder and he put his around your waist. It held you firmly but tightly, and you bit your lip as color rushed into your face as well.
You began stepping. You knew this dance well, as your mother had forced you to spend hours with a dancing tutor who was “the best of the best.” Lafayette started out in time with the music, but quickly fell behind.
“I am sorry,” he apologized, knitting his brow in intense concentration. You found it very cute.
The dance now called for you to spin away from each other momentarily and then spin back. You executed your twirls perfectly, but Lafayette was still behind and you stumbled as you grasped for an arm that wasn’t there. You let out a strangled gasp as his arms wrapped around you. He smelled of cologne and wool, a scent that was foreign but somehow made you feel comfortable. You looked up and smiled at him, but quickly grew embarrassed as you realized you were still in his arms. Disentangling yourself quickly, though regretfully, you hastily began dancing again. Thankfully, the two of you were the closest couple to the door and no one had seen what had happened.
The dance went without a hitch for the next few measures, but then Lafayette stepped on your foot. “Oh, pardon me, amie,” he cried, sounding distressed. You just smiled.
"It’s all right.“
"You are very talented,” he remarked, as the dance pulled the two of you closer.
“Thank you,” you responded, not believing him a bit. The dance was now coming to an end, and he kissed your hand once more. The look he gave you was lingering and soft, so soft, and your cheeks felt like they were melting. In fact, your whole body seemed to be softening up like butter, and you couldn’t keep an idiotic grin from stretching your face.
“I shall see you later,” he said, and made his way into the mass of people, leaving you feeling as if you were missing something, something you didn’t know you needed.
You were snapped out of your reverie by a male voice. “Miss (Y/N)?” it asked. You turned and saw Colonel Hamilton.
“I believe I have the pleasure of the next dance.” You smiled at him and took his hand.
The two of you spoke as you danced. He was incredibly intelligent and shared many of the same views you did, abolitionism in particular. You found yourself liking him very much, but your mind never strayed far from the Frenchman in the room. You secretly looked around the room as you spun until you spotted him. He was standing against the wall, a champagne glass in his hand, and he was watching you. You started and blushed at the sudden realization.
The night went on as you danced, the two of you sneaking glances at each other whenever possible, looking away if you made eye contact, which happened a lot. But it wasn’t until the last dance that you spoke to him again. He was the last name on your card, and as you looked at it happily, he came up beside you.
“Are you of the opinion that it is stuffy in here?” the handsome Frenchman asked.
“Yes, I was just thinking that myself.”
“Would the mademoiselle care to accompany me outside?” You nodded happily. There was a side door leading to a flowered balcony, and it was the perfect place to spend time with someone—quiet and secluded. As the two of you made your way to the door, you looked behind you to see if your mother was watching. She wasn’t, and you were grateful. You knew she would disapprove.
The night air was blessedly cool, and you let the soft breeze blow across your cheeks and lift tendrils of your hair. Lafayette was admiring the flowers. He picked a fragrant honeysuckle blossom and hesitantly reached out to you. You smiled up at him and he tucked it behind your ear, its perfume wafting into your nose.
“I am very sorry about earlier. I have always wished to dance well, but have never been able to achieve such a goal.” He looked embarrassed and your heart melted.
“Please, call me Lafayette.”
“Lafayette—” a smile “—you were my favorite dance of the night.” A look of genuine shock came over his face, and before you knew it, you had intertwined your fingers with his. He softly rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb and you let out a small sigh, the first happy one of the day.
“(Y/N), I know that we have only known each other a short time and your beauty and talents far surpass mine, but—may I have the privilege of writing you?” He was visibly flustered now, and you couldn’t help but love him more every second.
“It would be an honor,” you told him, and he let out such a lovely laugh of triumph, shot through with such boyish joy, that you reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. He grinned down at you like you were the world, and stroked your hair softly. He hesitated only a moment before placing an equally tender kiss onto your forehead.
“We should go back in,” you told him. “My mother will be delighted to hear that I’ve finally found someone.”
Someone : I hate Josh. How can anyone like him? He did unforgivable shit to his friends who tried to help him just to cope with his grief. He’s horrible and everyone that likes him is just as sick as him.
Me: cash me ousside how bow dah
"NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL? There’s a shining blue THING embedded into your hand that’s leaking some black gunk UNDER YOUR SKIN and its not a big deal?”
“Well, if you wanna see a BIGGER deal i can undo my pan-”
Mehh I was just thinking about the sword having some effect on Tucker like it left a shard in his skin that bled a bit of dark ooze into Tucker’s palm when he had been using the sword for a while, but Tucker hides it because he wants to use the thing he’s best at no matter the consequences, but then he notices that the ooze is going further and further up his arm and he starts getting worried and decides to go to the person he currently trusts with his life: Washington.
Tucker tries to play it off with jokes, but he’s actually really terrified because he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen to him or anything and Washington goes into “Overprotective Mama” mode and tries to find out anyway he can how to help Tucker.
Eventually they figure out that it only grows when Tucker uses the sword and Wash forbids him from using it (going so far as to get Donut to chuck the sword as faaaaaar as he could throw it) and then Tucker is like “Well, What the fuck do I do now? The sword was my WHOLE THING. I’m just like useless trash now” And Wash comforts him or something like “Nah babe you is so IMPORT” and then kissing and Wash helps Tucker forge another sword from broken gun pieces or something. and its the shit. The End.
Creepypasta #1031: Something Fishes For People In Champagne Lake
The following letter
was delivered to my PO box 6 days ago with several ten-cent stamps more than 50
years old. It was typed by electric typewriter and folded neatly in thirds.
There is business card in the center of the letter for a used Pontiac lot in Ox
Bow Washington; there is a blue ball-point arrow pointing to a body of water in
a mini map on the back. The letter has been transcribed verbatim:
“June 17th, 1995
FROM: Gilbert Sena, Sr. (Nom De Plume)
TO: Howard Moxley
RE: Advertisement in June’s issue of PersistentPress,
page 444: “Sell or trade me your secrets. All deals negotiable, practical and
Dear Mr. Moxley,
The world as we know it will be ending in God’s great second
flood soon, so there is no reason in holding secrets anymore, no matter how
large. I can’t tell you my real name or the real name of this lake, only the
code name we used- Champagne, formally Opium Lake. I think the people in charge
are on the lookout for the particular coordinates, so I marked the location on
the card. It’s not on street maps anymore, but a smart lad like you can figure
it out without a problem.
I guard a lake where something fishes for people. No one has
ever seen the fisher. Some think it lives somewhere in the vents that open at
the bottom of the lake. Sometimes I believe the water itself is alive. No one
from my family ever needed to see the fisher, as evidence surrounded the lake
in the form of things humans truly desire.
My great grandpop Chester was the first to make contact with
the Indians near Champagne Lake. The first nations feared the lake and stayed
at least a half a day’s journey from it, and would only say this one thing of
it: “do not trust anything that comes in or goes out of it. Nothing survives in
While it was true the water of the lake was unnaturally free
of even a slick of algae, my family saw the money in setting up a mill to fell
the 1000 year old giant cedars and float them down to the city for a fat
payout. Greed is strong, strong enough to make a man ignore the strangest
things, including myself.
My family offered good miller pay with no questions asked,
attracting hordes of criminals and those wanting to stay unknown. My family
would never had made as much money as they did without the underground
flow… not a single week passed where not less than a dozen men would lose
their lives to visions of their loves struggling to swim in the center of the
lake, calling their names, using their REAL voices. The lake reads your
memories like an open book. The lake made some men see boats filled with
whiskey and narcotics, guns and gold. It will make you see anything in order
for you to swim in. Once you do, you are never seen again.
The mill was forced to shut down by the feds in 1930 after
95 men went in mass night dive; the only survivor said there was a “glowing
doorway of light at the bottom of the lake”. Life has grown back around the
lake, whom the lake also effects; I saw a mother elk paddle into the water to
save a fawn, probably one that was lost to her long ago. Any and all fallen
trees, dead animals, debris ash and fingernails alike vanishes, into what we
think are volcanic vents below the lake.
My grandpop showed me the origin of the lake, a calcified
bolder with a crack large enough to slide your hand resting up near the lake.
The flow was able to keep the gigantic mile-long lake level by itself.
The water from the rock is pale and tastes like licking the
side of a bolder mixed with pennies. Life seemed peaceful to me because I never
saw an strange thing for the first 2 years, not until was 11 and saw the boat
at the far end of the lake.
I ran as close as I could to it and saw the new
aluminum boat filled with “Happy Birthday!” wrapping paper half-covering a
mountain of game cartridges and consoles. My mother grabbed my arm to shake
loose the idea of EVER stepping foot into the lake.
“It WANTS you to swim
inside” she warned that time, “Preferably to the bottom. You would throw you
life away for toys?”
I always keep a six foot clearance from the shore, but the
lake is cruel and creative as it is relentless. The lake has all manners ways
to lure me in over the years: a golden husky puppy yelping and gargling for
help, frightened with panic and confusion of why I wouldn’t help it when it was
swimming towards me with all its strength. My dream bike rolling down a hill
and right into the shallow part of the lake- if I hurry, I could grab it- or
Becka Hoffman, girl of my dreams, bare chested and hip deep in the in the lake
at moonlight, beckoning with her arms, grinning, cooing “it’s fine to swim in
the lake if you don’t chase anything”. All lies.
It was an enchanting, wondrous hell, but it was
better than any school or a job. I spent all the time I had in what was left of
Champagne Lake. I ran a family gas station at the end of the turnaround and to
warn tourists to turn around for 32 years. Most don’t look into the lake. Some
do. There isn’t much an old man like me can do to stop a young buck who sees
his love drowning in the lake, even if he looks into it for a second or two.
The authorities already knew about the lake and could overlook a few missing
people reports a year, but when 40 people from a music festival came a mile
away came to swim and cool off, 39 of them swam to the bottom of the lake after
“a gateway of loving white light opened in the bottom of the lake”, per one
survivor who couldn’t swim. The only trace of the 39 is a cell phone and a pair
of sunglasses on a branch.
American law enforcement and intelligence agency came to Champagne Lake over
the course of three years and scanned the lake to find it not only devoid of
bodies, but of all life in general- one agent even said that the bottom of the
lake looked like a compulsively clean aquarium. Three separate agencies
demanded that the lake be drained after their scans showed nothing. I was
filling in for an ill elder then, and made the decision to go ahead, not that I
had a choice. I wanted to see the fisher, if it indeed was at the bottom of the
300’ lake, but not before I told them at our first and ONLY meeting that it was
all a lost cause- no matter HOW much water you take out of the lake, the spring
will fill it right back up.
They laughed at me said they already planned it all
out by having two overflows down the mountain and a way to slow the flow. I
warned them of my story my grandpop told me of the worst rains in a century
that flooded the river and the community of Champagne Lake, and that the water,
even as little as a three feet deep, is enough for people to disappear chasing
their desires just as much as if it were Champagne lake itself. The managers
walked out on me as I warned them it’s not a lake at all, it’s living, it’s a feeding creature.
They started work the next day.
cut a trench in the mountain down to an old riverbed while they bolted a plate
over the stream of water from the rock. It worked for a day, when the water in
the lake was low enough to vibrate and for us to hear a deep HMMMMMMHHHNNN hum
that came from the deep in the cracks at the bottom the lake wide enough to
swallow cars whole.
We then heard a creaking shear of metal and the explosion of
a geyser from the bolted the plate to the rock. The skyscraper of water from
the rock was now taller than the trees.
The pressure was too high to cap- no good if we did, all ten
million gallons rushed down the mountain and knocked out most of Ox Bow and
then stopped as suddenly as it began. Those that didn’t drown were chasing
loved ones and pets in the disaster that followed. There are at least 3
Champagne lakes now.
The only thing that remains above water in town is the campground, and myself.
The contractors are trying every crazy trick to plug the weeping crater,
including injecting expanding foam into it and sealing it with a stone
cap. Foam strongerthanthestoneitself they
gloated. It’s working, for now, but I know the water is building pressure. I
can hear it breaking the earth apart me under me. Good. Let it burst and cover
the entire state in this cursed lake. Maybe it can even reach the ocean from
here, then we ALL will be returning to the sea. At least people will see what
they really want before they vanish forever. I hope I’ll never live to see it.
Glad to know another set of eyes on this. That’s all I want.
I found the town of Ox Bow on zoning maps. When I arrived, I
found security fences up but nothing active, not even a line on the fence. In
the distance, I heard a stony groan from deep within the mountains. It sounds
like the entire area is going to erupt at any second.
I found a
place to enter in the south east and followed an old road to a very large body
of water resting between the tree-covered mountains, what was once Ox Bow. The
mirror surface was broken only by the top of a church steeple, I was sure of
that until I saw the canoe aimlessly drifting near the center of the lake. What
I desired most was on it.
Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.
A/N: Things may seem a bit slow right now but if you’ve read Texas Time and Hero Time, I’m sure you’re well aware of what that means for the upcoming chapters ; )
Washington wasn’t exactly sure why Church seemed to practically manifest himself during circumstances that would make him completely unhelpful, but it was a talent that he ultimately had to acknowledge.
It was difficult to gauge what Tucker’s exact reaction might have been without Church’s input, but since it was there, Wash found himself being stared down by his partner, arms crossed and dissatisfaction radiating from him.
(For those who don't have access. Keep in mind, this is very bare-bones and fails to capture the full effect, but should give you some idea of the scene. There's a lot of back-and-forth, close-up cuts between Ben, Washington, and a medium shot of both of them. I did not detail every time this happens.)
[The shot looks out from inside a tent. It is Night. Ben approaches, walking past one guard to enter the tent.]
[The shot turns to reveal a long table. Washington sits at the other end, quill in hand and surrounded by paperwork. He glances up, studies Ben for several seconds before taking a breath and laying his quill down.]
I'm reviewing General Orders to be published tomorrow. I seem to recall requesting you write the report on the execution of Col. Bradford and Sgt. Hickey.
[Ben seems taken aback]
Yes sir (he approaches) you should have it, sir. (touches a piece of paper) It's, uh, it's right here in front of you.
(casually) You were to detail their final words. Their confession to counterfeiting. Instead, you make them sound like villains, and unrepentant ones.
Which is the truth.
(smiling) Yet it doesn't ring true. Men seldom revel in their evil in the gallows.
Well, I don't see them as men.
(looking at his paper instead of Ben, speaks softly) What do you see them as?
...scum. traitors. Tories.
(keeps writing) My mother could be considered a Tory...
(visibly distressed) Sir, you know that I mean-
-that's not the point. (looks at Ben) The point is discretion. As you yourself have stressed.
But don't you see? In the interest of discretion, we're protecting the reputation of /snakes/.
(smiles broadly, as if amused) And what do you think the Tories would call your friend, Woodhull, if they catch him?
(pauses, shifts) The same thing that they called my friend, Nathan Hale. An enemy spy.
Hm. The low sort. Not even a man. (evenly) Your thoughts were with Hale when you saw those men hanged.
(looks away) Yes sir.
When you see /any/ man hanged.
(looks down) Yes, sir.
And how many executions have you witnessed?
(looks to Washington) Fourteen, sir.
But Hale is not like Hickey. For his cause was just.
(pauses, seems to consider) Do you remember his final words?
Of course. They were inspired by Cato, which we performed together at Yale.
(Ben looks away, seems to struggle for a moment)
"I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country,"
(smiles, nods) Hm, very good. (with a small laugh) Except, he never said it. (lowers voice) /We/ did.
[Ben frowns, confused. Washington reaches over and pushes out a chair for him. Ben hesitates before sitting.]
When I received the news from Captain Montressor, Gen. Howe's Aide de Camp, it described Hale behaving with great composure and resolution. (Ben nods) Before hanging, he said he thought it the duty of every good officer to obey any order given him by his Commander in Chief.
(Ben appears greatly troubled by this)
He wished to be seen as a soldier, not a spy. He wasn't selflessly thinking of his country, but rather his own reputation. How his death would be received by his family, upon learning their son was a spy.
(Ben remains silent and still further troubled. He mouths he word 'no' once.)
(softly) Yes. We altered what he said. And thus converted a failed mission into an act of martyrdom. I imagine Captain Hale would approve.
(Ben continues to look uncomfortable, shifting and closing his eyes, finally looks up at Washington)
And so you think the Tories will turn these assassins into martyrs as well?
(emphatically) Not if we brand them as forgers first. Though it must be convincing. Our conflict with His Majesty erupted into full war over a single page of words on paper. The great contest we now find ourselves in is over whose word will be the final one.
(somewhat thickly, forced) I understand, sir. But, with respect, I'm afraid I cannot be the one to write it.
(momentarily looks away, looks back) Then I will write it.
(Ben immediately and wordlessly stands, returns the chair, and after a minute bow hurries away. Washington watches him leave, expression neutral.)
So I saw Hamilton yesterday, and it was amazing, and because I know not a lot of people will be able to see it with the original broadway cast, I thought I would make a list of things that surprised me during the show. (Yes that is a ridiculously long sentence. I’m emotional). There will be spoilers.
Obviously, I can only say these things as they were performed during my particular show. No performance is EXACTLY the same, so other people may have picked up on different things or actors may make different choices etc. I think it’s also important to point out that Jon Rua was playing Hamilton in the performance I saw, not Lin.
Okay, here we go. This is going to be super messy and full of run on sentences, so bear with me.
*The actors seemed to be playing the fact that Hamilton and Laurens loved each other. The moment that really struck me was just before “The Ten Duel Commandments” when Hamilton says, “Laurens, don’t throw away your shot” Hamilton grabs Laurens by the front of his shirt and pulls him close so they’re noses are practically touching.
*In the soundtrack, when Burr says, “This man will not make an orphan of my daughter!” his voice kind of cracks, but in the stage production he lets out a little sob and it freaking broke my heart.
*When Phillip dies, after the song ends there is a moment of really horrible silence, and then Eliza screams. I mean like, a heartbreaking, loud scream, and then she collapses on top of Lauren’s body, sobbing and Hamilton is trying to comfort her but doesn’t really know what to do, and then he just stands there half on the table with Philiip, holding him, awkwardly patting Eliza’s back and sobbing and just OW.
*There is a scene that’s not in the soundtrack, when Hamilton finds out Laurens is dead. It’s just after “Dear Theodosia” when they’re all happy and Hamilton is grinning from ear to ear about his son and Eliza comes in with the letter. And Hamilton is like, “It’s from Laurens, I’ll read it later.” and she’s says, “No it’s from his father,” and Hamilton doesn’t quite realize what’s happening yet, and he asks her to read the letter out loud to him and as she reads that Laurens is dead his face goes completely blank for a second. Like no expression. Laurens is off to the side, dressed in white, singing “raise a glass to freedom” and stuff and Hamilton looks over at him and his face just completely crumbles and Eliza asks if he’s alright and he stands up so quickly his chair falls over and just says, “I have so much work to do,” and runs off stage.
*In “The World Was Wide Enough” Hamilton turns around and addresses the audience when he gives his perspective on the duel. And when he says, “Washington is watching from the other side” Washington actually comes on stage and like grabs Hamilton’s hand. When Hamilton sings, “my love take your time, I’ll see you on the other side,” he reaches out a hand like he’s reaching for Eliza, and he’s crying, and his hand is shaking terribly, and it was so freaking EMOTIONAL I WAS NOT READY.
*Also, in “The World Was Wide Enough” after the duel, Burr actually has to stop singing for a second because he is crying, and just OW
*In “Satisfied” they really do rewind. it is the coolest thing. The actors repeat Every. Single. Motion. exactly as they did in “helpless” and I don’t even know how they did it but ohmygoodness it was so cool
*The set is incredible and things are constantly moving on stage. People are throwing chairs, the stage is rotating….it’s beautiful and done so brilliantly
*All of the battle scenes. Like. SO. MUCH TENSION. it was amazing
*Daveed Diggs(not 100% sure I spelled that correctly) is amazing as Jefferson and really interacts with the audience. In, “What Did I Miss?” he blows his kiss to the audience, and at one point bent down and said, “Hi!” the the front row.
*In “The Reynolds Pamphlet” when Jefferson says, “Have you read this?” he is actually talking to the audience, and he throws the papers down into the front row (or off the stage. I wasn’t in the front so I’m not 100% sure)
*During both cabinet battle songs, the actors encourage the audience to yell and scream encouragement at Jefferson and Hamilton
*During “Burn” Eliza freaking lights a piece of paper on fire on stage and holds the burning paper while singing. She drops it at the last second into a bucket and then throws more paper on the fire and there’s like a tiny fire on stage and it was very intense
* Eliza is really central to everything and all of the characters respect her. During the finale they part ways for her to come out and tell her story, and Washington actually bows to her and just ahgaksghskgha YOU GO ELIZA
*Before the show starts, King George speaks to the audience over the loudspeaker and it is hilarious
*King George is actually on stage more than I expected. After his final song, he pulls up a stool and watches from the side as Hamilton ruins his own life, laughing and dancing…and then during “Reynolds Pamphlet” he runs across stage and throws the pamphlet in Alexander’s face
*The expression on Hamilton’s face whenever Eliza is in the room breaks my heart he just loves her SO MUCH
There are so many more amazing moments that I am sure I’m forgetting…if you’ve seen it, please add to this list. Or if anyone wants to talk about the show, please message me!
“Is this the only way to save our kingdoms? Not that you’re not lovely. I just don’t feel ready.” Jamilton
Thomas knew that he and his betrothed should have been in reverse positions. He should be the one standing, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve, as he waited for the guards to announce their guests. But, somehow, it was Thomas who found himself in the role of the virgin being revealed to their future spouse.
He bit his tongue between his teeth as they approached the doors separating him from his future. The kingdom was relying on him, there wasn’t room for more than one ruling family in Virginia, and his marriage was the alternative to war. They couldn’t afford a war.
The doors opened and Thomas stepped forward into a grand room. Lord and Lady Washington were standing tall and proud, two young men at their sides. Thomas went into a bow. “Lord and Lady Washington, thank you for welcoming me into your kingdom.”
Lord Washington nodded. “It is our pleasure.”
The guards who accompanied him stepped into place beside him.
Lord Washington started to speak again, “now, this might be a little unorthodox, but the situation is a little unorthodox. I have no sons of my own, nor daughters, yet you are to marry into my family to combine our kingdoms.”
Thomas swallowed, confused, but nodded. “Of course, your Majesty.”
“I have brought with me today the two young men I consider as my sons. Traditionally, you would marry the heir, Jack. However, I know that marriage is a lifelong commitment, and I have asked Alexander to join me in case you find yourself preferring his company.”
“That’s very kind of you, your Majesty.”
Lord Washington smiled. “I have no wish for you to hate it here, this will be your home now. The Queen and I will see you again in a couple hours at our evening meal. You are free to do as you wish, but I suggest you use the time to get to know Jack and Alexander. The guards will be acting as escorts, though more as a formality than anything else. You will be marrying one of these men, and the wedding will take place in three months’ time.”
Thomas bowed again. “Thank you, your Majesty.”
The Washingtons left the room, and Thomas found himself in a room with Jack and Alexander, the two young men staring at him.
Thomas smiled, opened his mouth to say something, but before a word could leave his lips the taller of Washington’s sons stepped forward. “Is this the only way to save our kingdoms? Not that you’re not lovely. I just don’t feel ready.” The man started to pace.
His smile fell flat and he nodded. “Yes. If I am not married I do not know what will happen. Our kingdoms must be merged, and this is the best way. My sisters’ marriages are already arranged.”
“I see.” The man froze. “Well, I guess you’re left with Alexander. I can’t do this. Good luck.”
The man, who Thomas assumed to be Jack, left the room, door slamming shut behind him. He blinked and looked toward Alexander, who’s eyes were wide. “What do you suppose we do now?”
Alexander shrugged. “Get married, I guess. I’m sorry to say that Jackie’s the heir. I’m just kinda here.” Alexander took a seat on the sofa. “You can sit down, if you like. We might as well get to know each other.”
The sofa was stiff. He took in a deep breath, let it out, and said, “Hello, I’m Thomas Jefferson, and I guess we’re going to be getting married.”
Alexander chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we are. I’m Alexander Hamilton. Before you ask, I was formally adopted by the Washington’s after the war. He wanted me on as an advisor, and the best way to get around the complaints of my lack of relations was to claim me as part of the royal family.”
“Will I become Thomas Hamilton, then?”
“I suppose you will.” Alexander smiled. “Pardon me for saying so, but you’re quite stunning.”
You were in an arranged marriage, you were anxious of what your future will be with somebody you didn’t even know but your father had planned a ball. Your soon-to-be-husband is an orphan but he lives with the Washington’s, the marriage was purely for money and promotion for your father’s business in maple syrup.
You were welcomed by your maid Nina to help you get ready. “Miss Y/N, a gift has arrived from the tailor’s shop.” She handed you a big box and when you opened it revealed a beautiful lilac dress covered with embroidery.
You gasped when pulled it out of the box carefully then placing it in your bed. There was also a lovely corset waiting for you in the box too.
“This is beautiful Nina, who gave this gift?” You smiled at her, “It was a gift from your fiance Mr.Alexander Hamilton, miss.” She replied, she closed the door and you removed your dress and corset, then put on your new corset and carefully put the lilac dress on. The dress was beautiful on you, it was a off-shoulder that only shows your collarbone and the skirt was slightly poofed(?).
You twirled a little bit and Nina clapped, “That looks beautiful on you Miss!” You blushed a little, then she put on some light makeup on you then she put you hair in a braided bun, leaving strands of hair framing your face.
You put on some white heels and put your necklace pendant on, then your mother and father went inside your room so you dismissed Nina. “I am sorry to put you all in this marriage Y/N.” your father said. “Father, if this is the choice I make for my family, I will do it.” You smiled at him and your mother while tears were forming in her cheeks, you carefully wipe them. “I’m just so proud of you Y/N, you’ve grown up to be a beautiful woman. Shall we go?” Your father and mother linked hands as you all walk out of your house to the carriage.
As you and your parents stepped into the Washington mansion, a butler escorted you to the Washingtons.
“Oh, the L/N family! So happy to see you.” General George Washington bowed at you and your parents wile you and your mother curtsied and your father bowed too.
“We are so grateful to be here George.” Your mother smiled, “And Y/N is especially happy to meet her fiance.” She looked at you proudly then you smiled. “I see you wore Alexander’s gift to you Y/N.” George said, looking at you, then you saw Alexander walking to you.
He was wearing his war uniform on with his hair up in a ponytail, you were helpless. “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. L/N.” He bowed at your parents then faced you.
“And good evening Y/N….” His voice trailed off. He looked at you like he was helpless. He took you hand and kissed it, “Good evening Alexander, care for a dance?” You said. “Of course.” He holds you on your waist as you both go to the ballroom. As you dance, you talked about everything to him until you started to get tired so you both got outside.
“Your so beautiful Y/N.” Alexander caressed your cheek. You smiled at him lovingly then you pulled him closer till your lips crashed together, both of your lips synced slowly, turning into a passionate kiss. You both pull out for air and you were flustered. “Thank you for everything Alexander.” You hugged him, smelling his perfume. “Your welcome my love.“
After a week you both were writing letters together, everyday blushing at Alexander’s words that describes you just fills you with happiness all of a sudden. Then one letter broke your heart.
Thank you for your letter yesterday. I have some sad news to tell you, General George Washington had announced the war will start the next month and I am in deep sorrow that I will leave you here. But I am happy to say that we are going to be married next week.
Tears were falling down on your cheeks, your emotions were mixed with sadness and happiness. You were happy that you’ll be marrying the love of your life but on the other side he’ll be leaving you not knowing if he’ll ever come back.“Miss Y/N, Alexander is here.” Nina said, you quickly wiped your tears then fixing up your dress a little bit.
“Alexander!” You hugged Alexander on his open arms. “I missed you my love.” He pecked his lips to yours then wrapped his arm on your waist while walking inside. “Alexander, how lovely to join us for dinner.” Your mother said while cooking, your father was busy working on a project at his office.
The wedding organizer, Alice, was already sitting in the living room. You sat down with Alexander as she pulls out an assortment of books. “How’s the wedding preparations coming Alice?” Alexander asked her, he was slightly squeezing your hand. “Oh the preparations are doing well sir, I have sent my assistant to the venue to check on it.” She said, looking down at the books.
After a few hours, Alice decided to leave and check the preparations again to make sure so you talked to Alexander.
“Alexander…I have to tell you something.” You said, he looked at you, “Darling, what is it? Is something wrong?” “Alexander, i’m scared of you leaving. I have only known you for a month and now your leaving for war. I don’t even know if you’ll ever come back.” You choked, holding back the tears but you couldn’t. He hugged you and he rubbed your back. “Y/N…I would never leave you…..this is just temporary. Don’t worry about the war because we have a wedding next week!” You pulled away, “Thank you Alexander, for everything.” He wiped your tears away as you smiled.
1700-1800’s Thomas Jefferson and The Marquis de Lafayette are the same person. Always have been. He’s been doing a pretty great job at juggling two lives, that is, until he met Alexander Hamilton. Then everything went down hill
Welcome to my latest fic! In this universe, Lafayette and Jefferson are not two different people but are actually the same person and it’s all very complicated but don’t worry about it.
Warnings are posted at the end of the fic to prevent spoilers. If you need them for anything, be sure to check them because I have a tendency to turn dark at the flip of a coin.
things about hamilton you might not know from only listening to the soundtrack
Lin Manuel Miranda is tiny. He’s adorable. He is only the same hieght as the other performers when he stands on a soap box
During My Shot - they all drink shots of something, probably whiskey in time with the music
The choreography is tight af
The show takes place on a revolving stage and it’s so pretty
The schyler sisters each wear pink, yellow and green. Angelica is pink, (passion, romance) Eliza is green (nurturing, neutral) and Peggy is yellow (bright, cheerful, childish)
During Farmer Refuted, samual siedbury (sp?) keeps trying to move his soapbox in front of and away from hamilton, though they end up sharing it in the end (siedbury trying to push hamilton off it)
George washington has a sword
During Helpless, angelica dances breifly with washington
Hamilton does a stupid little victory dance when eliza’s father agrees to let him marry her
Hercules Mulligan is the flower girl at Eliza’s wedding
The female revolutionary solider dancers are glorious in their uniforms
At the end of What Comes Next, King George doesn’t have a dramatic exit, he just sort of shrugs and walks off
Between Dear Theodosia and Non Stop, Eliza gives Hamilton the news that Laurens has died in combat and they reprise Story of Tonight briefly. (honestly, this cut me up a little cause I had no idea)
The Cabinet Meeting shifts the tone of the show dramatically, and everyone gets their own hand held microphones
Eliza beatbox’s while Phillip wraps. It’s so dorky!
In I Know Him, King George says “country” with air quotes
During the Adams Administration, King George sits at the side of the stage watching raptly and dancing in his chair to the music
When Jefferson is finished reading the Renalds letter, he puts it down and wipes his hand on his coat as if he’s touched something disgusting.
Miria Reynolds hands Hamilton the quill with which he writes the Reynolds pamphlet
During the same song, Jefferson “makes it rain” with the pamphlets and King George dances in it. No seriously
Jefferson also hands an audiance member a pamphlet, asking “have you read this?”
When Phillip confronts Eaker, the actors in the play he is watching stop and watch the exchange nosily
James Madison is still crying from the end of It’s Quiet Uptown and is wiping his eyes and composing himself as he speaks to Jefferson in the Election of 1800
In the same song, Burr listens closely to his voters feedback and pumps his fist when he hears that he’s “approachable”
During Who Lives who Dies Who Tells Your Story, when Eliza sings that she speaks out against slavery, Washington sheepishly bows out of the spotlight, symbolizing how he historically failed to do so himself.
At the end, Hamilton takes Eliza’s hand and leads her to the front of the stage, standing behind her as if to present her as the author of his story.