My dear General, do often Remember Your Adopted Son, who with Every Sentiment of the Highest Respect and warmest Affection Has the Honour to Be Your obt Hble servant and Most Affectionate friend

-To George Washington from Marquis de Lafayette, 22 July 1783

My dear general Now is at Mount Vernon where He Enjoys those titles Every Heart Gives Him, As the Saviour of His Country, the Benefactor of Mankind, the Protecting Angel of liberty, the pride of America, and the Admiration of the two Hemispheres—and Among all those Enjoyements I know He Will Most tenderly feel the pleasure of Embracing His Best His Bosom friend, His Adopted Son, who Early in the Spring Will Be Blessed With a direct Course to the Beloved landing that leads to the House at Mount Vernon.

-To George Washington from Marquis de Lafayette, 10 January 1784

What Would Have Been My feelings, Had the News of Your illness Reached me Before I knew My Beloved General, My Adoptive father was out of danger!

-To George Washington from Marquis de Lafayette, 23 August 1790

It’s fathers day, so here’s a few sweet quotes from Washington and Lafayette’s letters

The Other Side (Epilogue)
  • Hamilsquad x Reader
  • Modern to Hamiltime
  • Part 4 of Time Travel fic

A/N: The end of this. But I’m not done with this universe yet, I have some one shots planned. (reader’s birthday, a fun day after the war with the boys, meeting Jefferson for the first time) So while the story is over, the universe can come back if you want it to. But I hope that this story was good and that this one meets standards. It’s mostly an epilogue so it’s very short but it ties everything up with a bow.

Word Count: 2, 184


[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Part 4:

You never found a way home. Part of you wished you had. You always missed home. Air conditioning, medicine, technology, equality, and your family. You also worried about how your family coped with your disappearance. Still, you had new people in your life that made it a little better.

Alexander was always working, always. He barely stopped to breathe. You saw him often enough as he and Eliza asked you to help out with their kids. You figured that request came about because you were complaining about not having a job or anything to do. You were grateful that the Hamiltons gave you something to fill your day with.

John helped Alexander but wasn’t as busy. He took care to spend a lot of time with you. You were thankful for that as well. You had very little to do in this time. You weren’t married and didn’t have kids. You weren’t going to, you worried the universe would explode. So you were grateful that John would help you find things to do.

Lafayette stayed at Mount Vernon for over a year. He became a brother to you.

Hercules was busy as well. His shop was booming now. After the war, his shop was almost closed. Once people found out about his position in the war they didn’t trust him. His shop and business were on the verge of collapse. You were pacing in your room at Mount Vernon, worrying about your friend’s predicament. George knocked on your door and poked his head in, he noticed you pacing. “Is something wrong?” He asked.

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anonymous asked:

Honestly you are so intelligent!! I wish I was as smart as you! Anyways, do you happen to know how Washington and Lafayette reacted after not seeing each other for a while? I've vaguely heard about this topic, wondered if you knew anything more! Thank you! :))

It’s not intelligence, I assure you. Just a lot of reading. Tooooo much reading. Thank you so much for your patience. I’ve had a personal crisis arise that has eaten much of my time, along with a full-time job and studies. I’m just now getting to these. Blessings.

Lafayette arrived at Mount Vernon on August 17, 1784 and stayed through the 29th. Washington (as was his way with almost everything) wrote very little about Laf’s visit, but Lafayette wrote enough to give us a vague overview of his stay. The Virginian and his French companion surveyed the lands around Mount Vernon on horseback. They talked farming, politics, the rights of all people (aka. George, free your slaves), and probably reminisced a good deal. Martha arranged the second room on the second floor for Lafayette’s stay there. To this day, if you visit Mount Vernon, it’s still designated the Lafayette Room…complete with a fireplace, a canopy bed, a portrait of Lafayette around age 21, and beautiful view of the Potomac out the window.

When Washington was called away for business during Lafayette’s stay, the Marquis visited other regions of the United States until being reunited with George nearly three months later. He stayed in Mount Vernon again from November 25-29th. More than likely, this was used as an opportunity to catch his breath and rest before beginning the trip back to France. Laf was given letters to take with him at the end of his stay and, after escorting him into Maryland, Washington said his goodbyes. It would be the last time either of them saw one another.

About two-and-a-half weeks later, as Lafayette was boarding the ship to take him back to France, he received a letter from the older gentleman expressing some of his more intimate feelings on their parting. Here’s a snippet:

‘In the moment of our separation upon the road as I travelled, and every hour since, I felt all that love, respect and attachment for you, with which length of years, close connexion and your merits have inspired me. I often asked myself, as our carriages distended, whether that was the last sight, I ever should have of you? And tho’ I wished to say no, my fears answered yes. I called to mind the days of my youth, and found they had long since fled to return no more; that I was now descending the hill, I had been 52 years climbing, and that tho’ I was blessed with a good constitution, I was of a short lived family, and might soon expect to be entombed in the dreary mansions of my father’s. These things darkened the shades and gave a gloom to the picture, consequently to my prospects of seeing you again: but I will not repine, I have had my day.’

Lafayette couldn’t handle it. He quickly sent off a reply, and–as was typical of him–it was much longer than George’s original letter had been. Here’s a bit or two:

‘I have received your affectionate letter of the 8th and from the known sentiments of my heart to you, you will easily guess what my feelings have been in perusing the tender expressions of your friendship.“No, my beloved General, our late parting was not by any means a last interview. My whole soul revolts at the idea ; and could I harbour it an instant, indeed, my dear General, it would make me miserable. I well see you never will go to France. The inexpressible pleasure of embracing you in my own house, of welcoming you in a family where your name is adored, I do not much expect to experience; but to you I shall return, and, within the walls of Mount Vernon, we shall yet often speak of old times. My firm plan is to visit now and then my friend on this side of the Atlantic ; and the most beloved of all friends I ever had, or ever shall have anywhere, is too strong an inducement for me to return to him, not to think that whenever it is possible I shall renew my so pleasing visits to Mount Vernon.’

‘Adieu, adieu, my dear General. It is with inexpressible pain that I feel I am going to be severed from you by the Atlantic. Every thing, that admiration, respect, gratitude, friendship, and filial love, can inspire, is combined in my affectionate heart to devote me most tenderly to you. In your friendship I find a delight which words cannot express. Adieu, my dear General. It is not without emotion that I write this word, although I know I shall soon visit you again. Be attentive to your health. Let me hear from you every month. Adieu, adieu. Lafayette.’

Sadly, Washington’s estimates were correct. While the two men kept in contact via correspondence for the rest of the Virginian’s life, they would never see one another again.

Easy Company just before D-Day 

Standing L-R: Cleveland Petty, Jim Campbell, Rod Bain, John Plesha, Vernon Menze, George Potter Jr., 
William Dukeman, Sal Bellino, James A. McMahon, and Robert Mann;

Bending over Front Row: Eugene E. Ivie;

Front Row L-R: Don Malarkey, Joe Toye, Ed Joint, Richard P. Davenport and Edward Mauser.

Death is the least of our worries.

Le Café Musain. 

The café was down a winding side street, deep in the heart of Paris, somewhere forgotten by the normal trappings of society. Lafayette had no real reason to be wandering the streets of the city so late, it was almost eleven o’clock; the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow on the wet pavements. It was cold and Lafayette could see his breath curling through the air in front of him, and the warm yellow lights of the cafê were so inviting. He peaked in through the windows; it was mostly empty, apart from a hunched figure leaning against the bar. He could almost feel the fire that was roaring in the grate, warm and dry; somewhere to escape from home.

His parents had tried to keep their voices down, they had kept the doors closed this time, but it hadn’t helped and Lafayette had been able to hear every word. He didn’t feel like going home just yet, so why not have a drink, he was nearly twenty five; he could drink on his own. The bar, and what was behind it called out to him; so he pushed the door open. The warmth hit him like a brick wall, a barricade of heat that he pushed through.

“If you’re here for the meeting you’re too late, they left about ten minutes ago,” the man at the bar said, grumbling and chocking down a drink of clear liquid.

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i’m at mount vernon.

“did they have chickens back then?”

wait, say that again?

Alexander’s Second Snow

Anonymous: hi, so this may sound weird but can you write something about Alex and George w. like having 101 family time like you know father and son bonding and stuff :) bye have a good day 

I sure can, kiddo!!! I hope you enjoy this super fluffy fic as Alex and George have family bonding time in the fluffy, freshly fallen snow! :D Also, sorry bc I know my geography might be a bit off here, but I haven’t been to Mount Vernon since I was 11 (hoping to go again this summer tho ahhh) so I’m kinda imagining a bit of Monticello’s landscape just to make this work. I hope you kiddos enjoy it regardless of me playing around with geography! (read my other lil fics here)

It wasn’t Alexander’s first snow. No, there’d been a freak snowstorm last March, when he’d arrived at the Washington’s, his first and final foster home.

So while this wasn’t Alex’s first snow, it had a much more magical first snow quality to it than that March snowstorm. This time it was mid-December, Martha had decked the halls of Mount Vernon with more Christmas decorations than Alexander had ever seen, and the snow was gently coating the earth in a way that reminded him of how his mother used to dust his toast with cinnamon to celebrate his good grades.

His pang of longing for his mother was interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. He looked back and forth from the clock to the door, confusion warping his face. It was just past seven. Nobody, save Lafayette, who was currently at Hercules’ for a sleepover, ever knocked on his door at such an early hour on a Saturday.

Alex wrapped his fuzziest blanket, a gift from John, around his shoulders and got out of bed to open the door.

“Hi, son,” George said as soon as Alex had cracked the door open. “I know it’s early, but there’s something I want to show you.” George cleared his throat, his eyes darting from Alexander to the floor. Was George… nervous? “It’s outside, um, a bit of a walk, not far. Well worth it, or at least I think it’s well worth it.”

“Okay,” Alex said, too curious about what it was George wanted to show him to worry about the cold. “I’ll just change.”

“Keep your sweatpants on,” George said. “They’re much warmer in the cold than jeans.” He smiled at the boy.

“Okay,” Alex said, staring at George a moment longer before shutting the door. He let the blanket fall off of his shoulders as he stood in front of his closet and sifted through his hoodies, searching for the warmest looking one.

He settled on his Yorktown hoodie, his favorite because he’d acquired it during his first ever family vacation with the Washingtons that past summer.

What could George want to show me at seven in the morning? Alex shrugged to himself. Whatever it was, he knew it would be good.

Even though he’d been at the Washington’s since March, he still didn’t know George too well. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but rather that his foster father intimidated him a bit. He was a silent, humble, yet commanding type of man. Frankly, Alexander had no idea what to make of him, but he had an idea he was about to learn a bit more about his foster father.

After Alex and George were adequately bundled up, their snow boots laced tightly, George led Alex out the front door and had him sit on the bench on the porch. He picked up two strange, wicker objects.

“I’m going to take a wild guess here, but you’ve never snowshoed before, right, son?” George asked with a smile.

“I don’t even know that it is,” Alex admitted.

George’s face lit up in a way Alex rarely witnessed. It made him feel special. Even though he hadn’t done anything at all, it made him feel like he’d done something good.

“Here, let me get these on you,” George said, bending down to fasten the contraptions on Alex’s feet. “Snowshoes make it easier to walk on the snow,” George explained. “They distribute your weight more evenly to keep you from sinking too far down.”

George moved onto getting his own snowshoes on his feet. “They’ll be a little difficult to walk in at first, but as long as you walk the way you normally would, you’ll quickly get the hang of it.” George smiled up at Alex as he closed the last clasp on his own foot.

George held out a gloved hand to Alexander. “Ready, son?”

Alex nodded, a tentative smile spreading across his face.

George helped him down from the front steps and held him steady until Alex was able to walk without teetering too much.

“Woah,” Alex exclaimed. “These are so cool!” After about five minutes of practice, he was practically running across the front lawn.

“Are you up to a little adventure?” George asked.

“Heck yeah!” Alexander exclaimed.

He felt more like himself–– his old self, from his early childhood on Nevis–– than he had in years. For once, his worries weren’t silencing him. He felt like he could just be. It was as if the snow and these snowshoes had set him free in some mysterious way.

Maybe it was because he felt like he was floating above the earth as he and George trotted behind Mount Vernon, across the large back lawn, toward the slight cliff that overlooked the Potomac.

After fifteen minutes of a comfortably silent hike, they arrived near the cliff’s edge. George stopped and Alex came to a halt, too. Before them was the Potomac. Parts of it looked icy, other parts were still flowing. The trees for as far as Alex could see in any direction were covered in a splendid white. Snow was still falling around them, making a gentle pitpat sound. The whole scene felt unreal. Alex’s face lit up in complete awe.

“This is my favorite place,” George said after a few moments. “And this is my favorite season to visit it during.”

“It’s so… peaceful,” Alex whispered, feeling as if he should be quiet in the face of such wonder.

George smiled down at Alex. “That it is.”

They stared out at the Potomac for a few more moments, Alex doing his best to commit the scene, the morning spent with George, to memory.

“Alexander, there’s something Martha and I have been meaning to ask you.”

Alex looked up at George and was surprised to see the serious look that had overtaken his foster father’s face.

“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep the fear budding in his chest from his voice.

“No matter what your answer, your situation here won’t change. I want to make that clear.”

Alex wasn’t sure what George meant, but he wanted to know what he had to ask him, so he just nodded.

“We want to adopt you, Alex,” George said, his voice as soft as the falling snow.

Alex’s breath hitched.

“Martha, Gilbert, and I love you. We adore you, son,” George said. “And we would be honored if you would become a part of our family.”

Alex could only stare up at George in shock for a moment, his mouth agape. For once, he was entirely speechless.

“Yes,” he finally managed. “Oh my god, yes.”

That was when he noticed George was crying. It wasn’t like when Alex himself cried, which he knew he would be doing later, once the news really sunk in. It was a quiet, dignified kind of cry. Silent, but meaningful. Much like George himself.

“This makes me so happy, son,” George said, his voice sounding only slightly less composed than usual. “This is going to make Martha and Gilbert so happy.” He smiled at Alex.

Alex couldn’t help it. He leapt toward George, wrapping his arms tightly around his new father.

George hugged him back and pressed a kiss to the crown of Alex’s hooded head. “I love you, son. I love you so much and every day I’m grateful you found your way to us.”

Alex finally started to cry, his warm tears mingling with the cool flakes of snow that fell on his cheeks.

Love. Family. He had them again. He had what he thought he’d never have again. He pulled away from George, a huge smile on his face.

“I love you, too,” he said.

George clasped his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “What do you say we go back home? Martha was planning on making pancakes, and we have that delicious Vermont maple syrup the Adams sent us.”

“That sounds perfect,” Alex said.

And so they walked back to Mount Vernon, a silence once again descending between them. The closer they got to the house, the more Alex felt something warm blooming in his chest. When the white building came into view, he, for once didn’t think of it as the Washington’s.

He thought of it as home.