Masquerading as a Male (Thomas JeffersonXFemale!Reader)
Rating: PG with a bit of sensuality at the end
Summary: You, the reader, are pretending to be a male to get ahead in a male’s world, in order to pursue your dream of becoming a lawyer, when one day the Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson walks into your office and demands you prosecute Alexander Hamilton. You, of course, deny him, and he continues to show up at your office.
This is my first fanfiction on tumblr, please, leave me your thoughts down below, I want to improve, if possible :)
btw (Y/M/N) is Your Male Name~~
“Somebody needs to put him in his place!”
“Well it won’t be me.”
“Did you forget Lafayette?” He demanded, referring to the fact that Hamilton had slighted his old friend Lafayette by not sending military aid to their Revolution.
“Have you an ounce of regret?” Jefferson asked me, looking utterly disgusted. But that was alright. I wasn’t about to try and prosecute the Secretary of State, the President’s Pet. “You accumulate debt, you accumulate power, yet in my hour of need you forget.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a smart man, you’ll be fine,” I told him, tidying up the papers on my desk.” “And before you were my friend, he was mine.” I snapped, closing my briefcase and straightening my cravat. “If you try and fight his every idea, you’ll never stop.” I pushed my chair in. “Where would you draw the line?”
Jefferson sighed then smirked and teased me lightly. “So quick-witted.”
I smirked in response. “Alas, I admit it.” I replied drily, grabbing my suit jacket and putting it over my arm.
“I bet you’re quite the lawyer,” he snarked.
“My defendants get acquitted,” I snarked right back.
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Well someone ought to remind you,” he called as I paused at the door.
“What.” I said flatly, hand on the knob of my office door.
“You’re nothing without your boss behind you,” he taunted, and I scowled and slammed the door, stalking out and starting the walk home.
“Stupid, arrogant, flamboyant Jefferson!” I seethed as I walked into my house and slammed the door, startling my maid, Heather. “He doesn’t know when to quit, and he’s such a goddamned flirt I can’t tell if he knows or not!” I ranted to her as she helped me undress and unwrap my chest.
The things a girl had to do to succeed in a man’s world were unbelievable sometimes.
“Sometimes I think he’ll have relations with anything that moves, and not just women,” I told her, and she giggled. “You know today he tried to use our friendship to blackmail me into prosecuting the Secretary of State?”
She gasped. “Alexander Hamilton? The immigrant?” She questioned me, and I nodded. “Oh that’s not good, he seems so sweet.” She exclaimed as she helped me dress in my casual pants and blouse for home. “I made pasta for dinner, Miss.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Heather. Sometimes I think you’re the only one keeping me sane in this patriarchal society.”
Jefferson was waiting for me at the front door of my office the next day, and the day after that, and for the rest of the month after that. And, while I knew he didn’t know I was female, I was somehow flattered by his actions. Perhaps it was because I knew that there were other lawyers he could go to, other firms he could consult, but he still chose me.
The feminine part of me was content with his attentions, and wished to become-
No, I told myself, shaking my head. He was just an annoying not-client, not anything more, unless I wanted my secret to get out. Still, his annoying persistence made me wonder if he knew more than he let on.
“Mr. Jefferson,” I said, just about ready to prosecute him for obstructive behavior, “for the last time, I will not prosecute Alexander Hamilton!” I snapped. “He’s done nothing wrong, and even if he has, there’s no evidence! As it is I may just prosecute you for obstructing the procession of my cases!”
He just chuckled and twirled his blasted cane about. “You wouldn’t do that,” he hummed at me, smirking. “You love me too much~”
I just scowled. “Obviously you’ve taken an injury to the head recently,” I told him, “to suggest that such homosexual feelings I harbor, and for you,” I added in disgust, looking him up and down in his outrageous magenta suit, “of all people.” I began packing my things, despite the fact that it was barely past noon. This man was far too aggravating to bother sticking around much longer.
“Heather told me.”
That sentence, just three little words, not much really. But it was still enough to stop my heart and my hands. My mind, however, began racing. Heather wouldn’t possibly betray me, would she? Especially not to him?!
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” I said coldly, closing my briefcase with an angry snap. “You forget yourself.” I snapped. “Talking to my trusted servant behind my back?” I scoffed. “That’s below even you, Jefferson.” I stalked past him, unprepared for the strong grip he quickly latched around my wrist.
“(Y/N),” he growled, and I stiffened at my birth name, the name that was too feminine to pass for a male name, that I had to change to (Y/M/N) in order to succeed in this society. A small part of me was thrilled at the tone he used, authoritative and demanding, but also masculine, and was that just a hint of lust I heard? No, it couldn’t be. “Would you listen to me for once?” He yanked me to him and I stumbled until I hit the wall, and he slammed his hands on either side of my head, forcing me to either look at his ridiculous daily violet outfit or meet his eyes. As I raised my eyes, my gaze trailed from his gorgeously shaped beard to his lips, pursed in a line, to his thick mustache, over his nose, and to his beautiful brown eyes.
“Let me go,” I demanded weakly, shrinking under his intense gaze. “I’m going home.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you haven’t returned my affections.” He frowned at me, eyes frustrated.
“Affections?” I asked in exasperation. “Thomas, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me lea-mmph!” My frustrated demand was cut off by his soft lips meeting mine, moving perfectly against mine, in fact. My eyes widened, taking in his hopeful gaze, before my eyes fluttered shut with a soft moan as he licked my bottom lip, asking for entrance, and I allowed it, realizing that this outrageously eccentric man liked me back. His tongue quickly explored my mouth with the excitement of a man reuniting with his long lost love, or getting married, and I had to pull back, gasping for breath. “H-How long?” I asked, a strange but pleasant feeling in my chest. Warm, and tingly. He just looked at me in confusion. “how long have you liked me?” I specified, cheeks turning pink at the realization that we had just kissed in my office, and that anyone could have walked in.
Thomas smiled. “The first day I asked you to prosecute Hamilton. I followed you home because you left your scarf in the office, and I saw Helen unwrapping you, so I went around to the back of the kitchen and asked her. And she told me what you’d done, with your name, and your…” His gaze flicked down to my chest and he smirked lightly, “…assets. She told me that you went home and ranted about me to her every day, and I was flattered, so I showed up at your office again and again, and…” His cheeks slowly turned pink.
“And….what?” I asked, a small, teasing smile on my lips, lips that still tingled from his kiss, my first kiss, as it were.
“And….I guess I fell in love with you along the way,” he admitted, a bashful grin on his lips. “Your sarcasm, and wit, and intelligence, and beauty, even though you tried to cover it up. And…well….you.” He paused and smiled widely, pearly teeth peeking through his lips. “I love you, (Y/M-“ he paused and shook his head. “(Y/N)”
I smiled softly and just pulled his lips back to mine, before whispering against them “I love you too, Thomas.”
hello sorry it took me a million years to upload something but here ya go!! this took on an ending that I wasn’t really expecting that like borderlines as a ramos x reader?? probs bc im upset he left today but anywho hope you enjoy
ps I know that the actually lyric isn’t “in the dressing room stressing” I was just trying to be clever okay
Request: maybe a part two to no stress?
Summary: Reader hangs out backstage more often with the cast of Hamilton, causing new feelings to stir.
“It amazes me how late you guys wait to get ready before the show,” you said to Daveed, Oak and Anthony. It has been two weeks since you first met the cast and, just as you told Anthony, you visited the Richard Rogers theatre more often, nearly on a daily basis. You had grown close to everyone in the cast in the short timespan and Daveed was so happy to see you fitting in with his friends so easily.
“You think we take our time? Try talking to Leslie five minutes before places, half the time he isn’t even mic-ed yet,“ Daveed told you, sitting beside you on the couch with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
“Really?” you asked the three stars in the room surprised.
“Stop by his dressing room when they call five minutes to places, I guarantee you he’s nowhere close to ready,” Anthony said, sitting on the other side of you.
Oak stood from where he sat, across the room on a separate chair, and spoke, “We should probably start getting ready though, it’s almost ten til places.”
Anthony sighed in a resignation and said, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Catch you guys later.”
Anthony followed Oak’s lead and stood as well, the pair of them heading towards the door. Daveed stood and followed them out, telling them, “Yeah, that’s right, get outta here.”
“You know you love us, Diggs!” Oak said as they exited, Daveed closing the door after they left with a laugh.
You stood up and approached your boyfriend while saying, “Surely you’re not kicking me out too, are you?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist then proceeding to plant a small kiss upon your lips.
You smiled up at Daveed, holding him close as you casually said, “Mhmm, now take your shirt off.“
“Always so eager,” he joked, taking his shirt off nonetheless.
“I’m just trying to make sure you make it on stage on time,” you innocently told him, handing him his white compression tank he needed to wear underneath his costume.
“How thoughtful of you,” Daveed said as he slipped on the shirt.
“I try my best,” you proudly said with a grin, continuing to hand him different costume pieces as he got out of his street clothes. You took a small break from helping him change when people came in to mic him, sitting back down on the couch as you patiently waited for him to be done.
After he was all hooked up he asked you, “Babe, can you pass me my boots?”
“I mean I guess,” you responded with an over exaggerated sigh as you got up to get them.
Daveed chuckled at your behavior and said, “I’m just the worst boyfriend ever, aren’t I? Making you get up and walk five steps to retrieve my things.”
You handed him his boots as you laughed and said, “I don’t know why I put up with it all.”
“Five minutes til places.”
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” you said, making your way to the door.
Daveed gave you a questionable look and asked, “And just where are you going?”
“To see how ready Leslie is,” you informed him, opening the door to his dressing room.
Daveed laughed and said, “He’s still in a tshirt and jeans, I guarantee it.”
“Guess I’ll just have to go and see for myself,” you told him, making your exit. A few short moments later you arrived at Leslie’s room, announcing your presence as you walked in, “Knock knock.”
“Hey!” Leslie greeted, still in his regular clothing as Daveed had said. “What brings you here?”
“Just wanted to see if what everyone said about you taking your sweet ass time was true, which it apparently is,” you told him.
“Relax, I’ve got plenty of time,” he said, acting extremely nonchalant.
You gaped at him and said, “You’ve got five minutes!”
Leslie simply laughed at this as Kimmy walked into the room. He said, “Alright, alright, I’m getting ready! See?”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, deciding to leave as he got ready. You heard his laugh echo again as you started down the hallway towards Daveed’s dressing room, but you stopped short as you heard your name being mentioned elsewhere.
“–but Y/N is with Daveed!” you overheard Lin say from inside his dressing room.
A second voice that you recognized as Anthony’s replied and said, “I know! It’s just.. I’ve never met anyone like Y/N before. When we met I couldn’t stop staring and now that we’ve become friends I just can’t get enough of em. Here I am, two weeks later in the dressing room stressing.”
You stood outside of Lin’s dressing room in a daze. Anthony Ramos had feelings for you? What were you supposed to do with this information? You silenced your thoughts and continued to listen in as Lin asked, “Does Daveed know?”
“God, no,” Anthony replied, “How would I tell him this? And should I even bother to?”
Lin asked as a follow up question, “Then what are you gonna do?”
You heard Anthony sigh and say, “I honestly have no idea.”
You began to slowly walk away from the room and started to head back towards Daveed’s room, already have heard enough of that conversation. Your thoughts wondered along the way, thinking about ways to deal with what you’ve just heard. Did you talk to Daveed about it? Or talk to Anthony about it? Or should you just leave it be unless Anthony brings it up? You were clueless.
Daveed’s door came into eyesight and you put your thoughts aside as you entered the dressing room. Daveed was sat on the couch in full costume, scrolling through social media on his phone. You greeted him with a smile, “Hey.”
“Was he or was he not anywhere close to being in costume?” Daveed asked you in reference to Leslie.
You answered him, “You were right, still jeans and a tshirt.“
Daveed laughed, standing up as he said, “I told you so.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you said with a roll of your eyes and a smile tugging at your lips.
Daveed took you in his arms again, giving you a tight hug as he asked, “You alright? Your sarcastic comments are usually better than that.”
His choice of words made you laugh the slightest bit as you responded, “Yeah, just lost in thought.”
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling away to look at you, his hands remaining on your waist.
“It’s uh.. Well, um,” you stuttered, not really knowing what to say.
“Places everyone. This is your call for places.”
A sense of relief washed over you as you heard the stage manager’s voice over the intercom. Daveed sighed and told you, “We’ll talk later, alright?”
You nodded and he leaned down for a quick kiss before leaving to head out on stage. Most nights you’d watch the show from the wings, but tonight you opted to stay in Daveed’s room as you were unsure of what you’d do if you ran into Anthony backstage.
Intermission quickly rolled around, meaning Daveed was back in the dressing room, rapidly changing from Lafayette to Jefferson. After putting the magenta costume on, he turned to you and asked, “All good?”
“One last thing,” you said, stepping towards him. You had to get on the very tip of your toes to do it, but eventually you managed to reach up and take the hair tie out of his curls, allowing them bounce down on either side of his head.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling down at you. He gave you a little peck before telling you, “I’ve got to run to the stage management office real quick. My cane broke last night and I forgot to go get it during preshow.”
“Okay, break a leg,” you said, exchanging another kiss with him before he took off. Once he left you plopped back down the on couch and took out your phone, only staying that way a few seconds. There were two knocks not even a minute later and you looked up to see Anthony leaning against the door frame. You grew nervous, but remained visibly calm as you greeted, “Hey, Ant.”
“Hey, you alright?” He asked as he pushed himself off the frame to go and take a seat beside you. He said, “You’re usually in the wings during the show, we missed you during The Schuyler Sisters dance party.”
You laughed and told him, “Sorry, just have a lot on my mind right now, needed some time to think.”
“Think about what?” Anthony asked, insanely curious.
You took a deep breath and, deciding to get everything over with, you said, “I overheard somethings in the hallway earlier.”
Anthony froze. He prayed that you hadn’t heard the conversation he held with Lin earlier in the day. He cleared his throat, making sure his voice was stable, before he hesitantly asked, “What things?”
You did nothing but give him a blank stare, which was enough of a signal for Anthony to realize that you had heard the very conversation he never wanted you to hear. He let out a large sigh, “Dammit.. Y/N, look I’m sorry. Sorry that you found out like this, sorry for even having these damn feelings in the first place, trust me, I don’t want them!”
You scoffed at his last few words, but then softly said, “It’s not your fault, you can’t control things like this.”
“You just don’t understand how frustrating this is,” Anthony said, “To be looking for someone amazing and finally getting to meet them.. only for them to be taken by one of your best friends.”
“I-I don’t know what to say,” you nearly whispered, feeling upset and almost guilty for the way Anthony felt.
“You don’t need to say anything, none of this is on you. It’s not your fault that I’m attracted to you, that the first person I develop feelings for in months is dating my best friend.”
“Ant..” you said in such a soft tone you weren’t even sure if it was audible.
“Places everyone. Places for act two.”
“That’s my cue,” Anthony said, standing up from the couch and walking towards the door. Just before exiting, he said a small, “See ya later.”
You slouched lower into couch, being left alone in the dressing room once again. You let out a sigh as one thought circled your mind: What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You sat on the living room chair, nose in a book, being invested in the story it told. It was just a typical Sunday afternoon, that is until a very familiar scent filled the air and brought your attention out of the book, and to the source, it was coming from. “Thomas, darling?” You saw your love, Thomas, leaning over a pot, stirring its contents occasionally. “Macaroni and cheese? Thomas, I didn’t know you could cook.” You hugged him from behind, nuzzling your head into his back. He laughed “Oh trust me, I can’t.” “ For someone who can’t cook, you sure are doing a great job.” you peered from his side at the mac and cheese he was now spooning into two bowls. “ God has granted me one power, Y/N, and that is to cook the best food known to man.” He explained as he turned around, handing you a steaming bowl. You took it, and ate. Thomas is great at many things. Politics, being a lover, fashion ( referencing to his magenta suit he wore often) but all those things pale in comparison at how DAMN GOOD his macaroni and cheese was. You quickly ate the whole bowl, watching him snicker, but he soon finished as well. You set you bowl down and leaned in to kiss him. Suddenly, he pulled away, looking at you wide eyed and a grin plastered on his face. “Whats wrong?” you asked, searching your face for any remains of cheese until Thomas stopped you with a long, passionate kiss, leaning you back so far that you almost fell. “ Love, not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” you laughed, fixing your dress. He laughed before pulling you close “ I couldn’t help it Y/N! you taste like Mac’ and cheese!”
WIP of a center page illustration! I wanted to show a little bit of my frantic work ethic/ process.
1: I start out with a sketch. My main goals in sketch are to capture feeling and fluidity. These two things are usually the first to go when you start rendering. I tend to play around with compositions and do thumbnails until i get something I like. Generally something to show scene, explain itself to some extent, and still be fun/ interesting. I’ve seen people make beautiful, glorious sketches that are detailed and wonderful. I die doing that. I like being quick and getting my idea out before it craps up into something else.
2. I work on color scheme to help accompany feeling and motion. For this one, i looked at my other illustrations, which seem to be more subdued and realistic. So just for contrast, I’m going all teal and magenta to keep things interesting. This picture’s scheme was inspired by a foggy photo of a cherry blossom grove. You can snag inspiration anywhere. I’ve been inspired by couches before.
So I try and get a rough idea of my colors, how they can play with one another, how they’d work in the image. Making sure obnoxious colors don’t ruin too much focus from what’s going on, trying to pick colors that don’t buzz too much (are too contrasty next to each other, like ff000 red and 0006ff blue, you put those together, you will make people throw up) until i have a generic idea of how I want things to look. Again, a lot of people will take a lot of time at this stage to make sure everything’s blocked correctly/ perfectly, correct anatomy they might’ve missed in their pristine sketches, and that’s perfectly fine. It’s my own folly to just hop into manhandling the image to show me what I want it to.
3: Man-handle the image to show what you want it to look like. I can picture a lot of what I want the image to do, and this is where I essentially start kicking things around, what works, what doesn’t. Don’t like the hand, makes it look like she’s gonna attack poor Raziel, so flip it around, make it a sort of horror reaction instead. Nothing is sacred. Don’t ever make something sacred in your images. If you can look at something objectively and say “Well I like this face, but it doesn’t fit on this picture” and erase it, you’ll be so many steps ahead of everyone else, it’s not funny. You will make mistakes, you will fix those mistakes, and you’ll be better for it.
This image above’s about an hour and some change in. We have our direction, we have our emotion, things are all generally recognizable, and there’ll be little fiddling done afterwards. So there ya go.