#George Washington X Martha Washington

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Hamilton

Sample Size: 20,757 stories

Source: AO3

[multifamdomfan]

Hi, if requests are still open and if you still write for Hamilton could I request an imagine where the fem!reader was Alex’s wife, they met and fell in love during the Winter's ball. And, she first met him when she was in the war (dressed as a man) but Alex never knew it was her until he found out himself. And maybe has a near-death experience fighting in a duel for any reason you want. And years later, she maybe becomes a lawyer/statesman or whatever as long as she's not a housewife and she finds out Alex had an affair and she like goes to Laurens for comfort but he ends up confessing he has loved her since day one when they met at the Winter's ball but saw she was so much happier with Alex (and it's kind of like an Angelica situation.) and how he would have never if he knew that was what Alex was going to do to her. And finally, he asked her to be with him. Also, could you please make the reader Washington's adopted daughter? I know it's a lot but even if you don't do it, thank you for just reading it. I just kinda wanted a lot of angst followed by fluff but since I can't stand the thought of having been with some who cheated on me and didn't love me, could you please make Alex still love the reader but realize if he wanted her to be happy, he would have to let her go and as soon as the Reader is thinking "You know what? I should forgive." He just dies. I feel bad for the Reader, not gonna lie. Thank you again. <33

Prompts: "May I have this dance?" (Hamilton to Reader) "Shit, are you bleeding?!" (Hamilton to Reader) “You need to leave. Right now.” (Reader to Hamilton) “You need to let her go.” (Anyone who seems right to Hamilton) "Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?" (Laurens to Reader) But hey, it’s up to you, I'm just giving suggestions on what I was thinking.

Note: And yes, in my fantasy world, Laurens doesn't die and is still alive in Act II.

😮😍 I love this request! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I hope you don't mind but I'm turning this into a two part.

warning: angst,character death,cheating

Why does love hurt so much? Pt. 1

I was reading my book in my room when my dad, George Washington, knocked gently against the door. Well if you want to get technical he's my adoptive dad. My biological parents when I was young and was sent to the orphanage when George and his wife ,Martha, adopted me. I closed my book and put it down and called out "Come in!" When Dad came in I immediately knew that something was wrong. He was fiddling with his hands and his eyes cast down onto the floor looking frantic. "What is it father?"

"Y/N I need to tell you something," I looked at him curiously while Dad was looking like he was trying to find the right words to say. "There is really no way to say this but I'm going to go to war." He said this quickly and nervously watching to see how I'll react.I didn't respond, not at first I looked at him with a blank expression trying to comprehend what he just said.

"What?" He remained silent like he was waiting for me to tell, scream, or do something. "Let me come with you, I can help!"

"No! You're not coming, it's too dangerous."

"But you're going! You will be there to look after me and you taught me to use a gun since I was ten!"

"I won't always be there to look after you, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. Just promise me that you won't follow me."

I sighed in defeat "I promise." Dad came up to me and hugged me. I hugged back thinking about how I lied to his face.

I put my hair that's now shoulder length and tied my hair up. I looked down at myself with my uniform on with bandages over my breast to flatten them out. I nodded at my reflection in approval before walking out of my tent. My dad found out that I was pretending to be a man to fight in the war immediately but he kept my secret.

I approached my friends Lafayette, Hercules, John, and Alexander. We became friends quickly, and no. They have no idea that I'm a woman and plan to keep it that way. There is one problem, I developed a crush on one of the four men. It's Alex, I couldn't help it. He's passionate, smart, and kind. "Hey James!" Hercules called over to me.

Yes James is the name that I chose because it was my biological dad's name. "Hi." I responded, lowering my voice and octive to keep from sounding too feminine. I sat next to Alexander and joined in on the conversation before we heard a loud noise. We all turned our heads to see what it was. It was the red coats, we sprung into action grabbing our guns.

There was death all around us with an overwhelming smell of blood but we had to keep moving I killed a couple men before they could kill me first. Then I was a man aiming for Alexander about to shoot, without thinking I shoved him out of the way and took the bullet. All I could hear was a distant yelling at the word "James!" He quickly rushed over and got in my field of vision. "Shit, you're bleeding."

"You need to leave. Right now." I responded not wanting him to find out. Alex ignored what I said and ripped my shirt off and saw the bandages being soaked with blood. He looked shocked at first but knew it wasn't the time to talk about it and used my shirt to apply pressure to the wound and rushed me to the medics.

[ladybirdmacbeth]

fuckkkk there was this rly hot fic i’d come back to sometimes bc reasons and now it’s just gone from ao3. this must be how they felt looking at the ashes of the library of alexandria. if there was smut in the library of alexandria. i’m sure there was.

[andnowanowl]

How Much Money Did Slaveholding Founding Fathers Pay for Enslaved People?

"Between 1638 and 1775, the average price paid for slaves in the Thirteen Colonies ranged from 16.5 (£16.50 in 1775 = £3,388.80 in 2024 = $4,372.33 in 2024) to 44.08 (£44.08 in 1775 = £9,053.24 in 2024 = $11,680.77 in 2024) sterling for slaves from Britain's colonies in the Americas, and between 1.87 (£1.87 in 1775 = £384.06 in 2024 = $495.53 in 2024) and 17.43 pounds (£17.43 in 1775 = £3,579.81 in 2024 = $4,618.78 in 2024) for slaves transported from West Africa." (source)

Disclaimer: this is to get a general idea of the amount of money these stains on history had to throw around, not to say for sure what they spent to force people to work for them.

Benjamin Franklin - enslaved 7 "named" enslaved persons during his lifetime (possibility for more).

7 x $4372.33 = $30,606.31 (modern price for a "cheap" enslaved person from American colonies)

7 × $485.53 = $3,468.71 (modern price for a "cheap" enslaved person transported)

Thomas Jefferson - enslaved 600 people over the course of his life. Unsure if Martha's inheritance of 135 enslaved persons were counted in this.

600 x $4,372.33 = $2,623,398.00

600 x $495.53 = $297,318.00

George Washington - enslaved at least 123 people, with his wife, Martha, enslaving 153 people in their household.

123 x $4,372.33 = $537,796.59

123 x $495.53 = $60,950.19

James Monroe and James Madison - enslaved "several dozen" people, let's say they each 'owned' 36 enslaved people.

36 x $4,372.33 = $157,403.88

36 x $495.53 = $17,839.08

Imagine having that much money and using it to have people in bondage.

[jo1027]

Epstein/Diddy client list

Here is a list of some of the Satanists endorsing/supporting Kamala Harris because they are on the Epstein/Diddy client list.

There’s a lot coming out…Beyoncé, Samual Jackson, Oprah, Barack and Mike Obama, Bill and Hillary Clinton, Sarah Jessica Parker, Eminem, Taylor Swift, Stevie Nicks, Willie Nelson, Brittney Spencer, Margo Price, Cher, Marc Anthony, Lizzo, Usher, Olivia Rodrigo, John Legend and Chrissy Teigen, Cardi B, Kesha, Billie Eilish her brother Finneas, Chappell Roan, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, Beyoncé’s mom Tina Knowles, Charli XCX, Whoopi Goldberg, George Clooney, Barbra Streisand, Rosie O’Donnell, Jamie Lee Curtis, Cynthia Nixon, Mindy Kaling, Tony Goldwyn, Kerry Washington, Nick Offerman, Jane Fonda, Kathy Griffin, John Stamos, Ed Helms, Tiffany Haddish, Ike Barinholtz, Matt Damon,Lin-Manuel Miranda, Aubrey Plaza, Jennifer Aniston, Mel Brooks, Lynda Carter, LeVar Burton, Anthony Rapp, Misha Collins, Mark Hamill, Robert De Niro, Jennifer Lawrence, Fran Drescher, Bryan Cranston, Anne Hathaway, Ken Burns, Spike Lee, Aaron Sorkin, Andy Cohen, Mark Cuban, Bill Gates, Martha Stewart, Geraldo Rivera, Sigourney Weaver, Reese Witherspoon, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson, Uma Thurman, George Takei, Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep, Sharon Stone, Ben Stiller, Kristen Stewart, Martin Sheen, Mark Ruffalo, Tyler Perry, Jennifer Aniston, Demi Moore, Leonardo DiCaprio, George Clooney, Michelle Pfeiffer, Jeff Bridges, Mel Brooks, Bette Midler, Elizabeth Banks, Olivia Wilde, Portia de Rossi, Julianne Moore, Alyssa Milano, Blake Lively, Eva Longoria, Jennifer Lawrence, Ashley Judd, Katie Holmes, Ethan Hawke, Mark Hamill, Jennifer Garner, Sally Field, Morgan Fairchild, Hilary Duff, John Cusack, Jamie Lee Curtis, Lilly Colins, John Cleese, Glen Close, Mel Brooks, Ellen DeGeneres, Bill Maher, Patton Oswalt, Chris Rock, Amy Schumer, Foo Fighters, Green Day, lil Nas X, Fat Joe, Jon Bon Jovi, Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez, Joan Jett, Carole King, Jennifer Lopez, Demi Lovato, Moby, Katy Perry, Pink, Stevie Wonder (who can actually see and ain’t blind), Stephen King….

There are also designers, filmmakers, directors, writers, comedians, actors, actresses, producers, politicians, media personalities, TV presenters, loads of musicians, novelists, poets, authors, sports, football. The list is endless.

And that’s only some of them. That’s a sh*t load of blackmail they have on these people. The lists are being released in real time through the Kamala endorsements. Great way to expose these demons.

There’s so many big names being dropped, like we haven’t listed all of them. To be continued.

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[gen-washington]

|| THE BASICS ||

NAME: George Washington

NICKNAME(S): Georgie, Tiger (only to Martha). For the official list see x

AGE: Depending on timeline it’s either late 40′s (General) or 50′s (President).

SPECIES: Human

|| PERSONAL ||

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic ||| good /  gray / evil

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Christian

VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Freedom from English rule. Serve his country.

LANGUAGES KNOWN: English

SECRETS: Due to the nature of his position(s) he has a lot of professional secrets. On a personal level however, he hides his shame over not having fathered any children (although he of course considers his adopted children as his own).

QUIRKS: I don’t know if this would be considered a quirk exactly, but Washington enjoys listening to others speak on matters they are passionate about. He will spend most part of a dinner in silence, listening to the conversations at the table, and only occasionally put in a word. This also comes from his awareness that he would take over any conversation that he decided to actively participate in.

SAVVIES: Despite never receiving a proper education Washington is very intelligent and quick to grasp new ideas.

|| PHYSICAL ||

BUILD: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other  

HEIGHT: 6′1″ (accounts vary from 6′0″ to 6′3″ so I’m taking Ian Khan’s height)

SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: In his youth he had smallpox, which left his face scarred (this is not shown in any portraits however). He also has other small marks and blemishes from battles and adventures in the wild.

ABILITIES/POWERS: N/A

RESTRICTIONS: Always maintains a stiff and composed appearance and civil manners. He always has to restrain his emotions and doesn’t act out thoughtlessly.

|| FAVOURITES ||

FAVOURITE FOOD: Meat pie with mashed root vegetables

FAVOURITE DRINK: Wine

FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING: Pizzas have not really reached Washington’s table, but he would probably enjoy a variety of seafood and fresh tomatoes.

FAVOURITE COLOR: Green

FAVOURITE MUSIC GENRE: String music

FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE: Biographical texts (or journals) of explorers and leaders.

FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE: N/A

FAVOURITE SEASON: Summer -- the season of life, prosperity, late evenings, walks in the forest, flowers for his wife, horse riding over the grounds, watching the crops grow.

FAVOURITE BUTT TYPE: A gentleman doesn’t tell.

FAVOURITE CURSE WORD: Damn or hell, although he always strives to remain composed and avoid cursing.

FAVOURITE SCENT: Freshly baked bread

|| FUN STUFF ||

BOTTOM OR TOP: Whatever his wife desires

LOUD BURPER OR SOFT BURPER: Hides the burps, anything else would be impolite.

SINGS IN THE SHOWER BATH: Certainly hums something if he is in a good mood.

LIKES BAD PUNS: Is it a bad pun if you like it?

THEIR OPINION ON THE MUN: Probably finds me weird but is flattered that I write him and return to this blog for so many years.

TAGGED BY: the amazing @honorhearted​

TAGGING: I am so late with this that I don’t know who has already done it.

[ao3feed-usukus]

Heavens Fall

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Q8WcABG by JuicyOrange George washington falls from heaven, not expecting to find himself in a predicament with Velvette and Charlie. While he has to save America in Hell, Dhar Mann is by his side to save the day. Words: 347, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Other Characters: Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Dhar Mann, Ed Sheeran, George Washington, Martha Washington, Bridgette (Bistro Huddy), Nicole (Bistro Huddy), Kasey, Original Child(ren) of Alastor and Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel) Relationships: Bridgette/Nicole (Bistro Huddy), velvette/star (hazbin hotel), velvette/kasey (hazbin hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Velvette, America/England (Hetalia), George Washington/Martha Washington, Dhar Mann/Ed Sheeran, Dhar Mann/You Additional Tags: Kinks, Voyeurism, Accidental Voyeurism, Car Accidents, Fluff, Omega Verse, Masochism, Sadism, BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Bondage, rope bunny, Brat, brat taming, Leather Kink, Latex, Alcohol, Drugs, dhar mann needs a hug, Menstruation Kink, Menstruation, Daddy sauce, man milk, baby batter, love plunger, Daddy Complex, Mommy/Daddy Kink, Character Death, Guns, no beta read we die like george washington, Inappropriate Use of Poetry, Accidental Therapy, Accidental Marriage, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Drug Use, too many speedos, Dubious Science, This is sad guys, This has a plot i promise, CW: this has shoulder pads, coronavirus x earth, no beta we die like everyone else, Vanilla Kink, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, peanut allergies read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Q8WcABG

[tonytomeo]

Martha Washington Geranium

Martha Washington should be quite pleased. Mrs. George Washington never grew Martha Washington geranium, Pelargonium X domesticum. It was hybridized in Europe from south African species after she passed away. Although classified as a hybrid species, it is actually a group of distinct hybrids. Most are related to the same pair of primary ancestors. A few other species mingled in the process…

[las113062]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Avon Cobalt Blue Glass Mount Vernon Platter.

[annastrxng]

This blog supports my homegirls- aka the historical wives of the Culper ring.

Martha Washington, Anna Strong, Mary Woodhull, Ann Lewis, Mary Floyd Tallmadge, Mary Hilton Tallmadge, and ladies like Abigail, and Eliza Hamilton, Abigail Adams

[ysxbel]

Do whatever u want with these. iPhone wallpaper or whatever, for me dis I’d trash meh

[im-still-writing-out-of-time]

You Hold My Heart

I wrote this in a little under an hour (it would have been less, but Bob’s Burgers is on). I’m trying to get some drabbles finished in between the winner’s choice fics. I’ll try not to wait that long between uploads, but I don’t promise anything. 

There was a request out there from an anon asking for a George x Martha fluff sex scene and then @thatoddtrashcan asked for Martha talking George out of a PTSD attack, so I hope I did y’all proud. 

Masterlist

The summer sun was hot overhead and George Washington laid beneath the trees with his new wife Martha. They strolled through the gardens of their home, their hands interlocked. George couldn’t help but steal glances at his gorgeous wife as they walked, her cheeks a rosy red against her pale skin.

“Martha, my love, it is almost time for me to leave. I leave before the end of the week.” Martha made no move to reply, or even acknowledge that he had ever even said anything. “Martha, it’s Wednesday, I ship out in two days.”

“Georgie, can’t we just enjoy the couple of days we have left with each other?”

And they did. They spent the next day and a half tangled in each other’s arms.

Their bodies tangled together, a messy knot of arms and legs. George hovered above Martha, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Their mouths pressed together, their kisses gentle, loving. Neither one of them was deriving much pleasure from the sex itself, but rather they were fulfilling their mutual need to be as close to each other as possible.

“Martha, I love you so much, you know that right?”

There were tears welling in her eyes. “George, if I asked you to stay, would you?”

George’s mouth pressed against Martha’s, the kiss desperate. “Martha, you know I can’t. God, I wish with all of my heart that I could stay, that I never have to leave this bed, but you and I both know that I have to. The Army chose me as commander of the battalion. I can’t just let them down.” His voice grew quiet as both of their orgasms began approaching.

He could tell hers was by the way her pelvis arched towards him, the way her breathing stuttered as her heart beat faster. He watched her face, taking in every detail, memorizing the small freckles that decorated the apples of her cheeks, across her nose. He memorized the way her eyebrows furrowed as she reached her release, her head pressing back into the pillow. He focused on the feeling of her body arching against his own, the way her mouth fell open, her breasts heaving as she gasped for breath.

His own orgasm wasn’t far behind, focusing on every part of her being sparked thrusts that he couldn’t control, that were erratic as he reached his peak. His body fell down on hers, their chests rising and falling in a synchronic dance.

He rolled over and pulled her into his arms. His hands danced across her body, across the little roll of fat that made up her stomach- the one she hated but he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers parted her thighs, those glorious thighs, just to feel them one more time. He had to memorize her, he couldn’t forget a single detail.

His head found its way to her chest, his ear pressing against her heartbeat, her gorgeous round breasts directly in his line of view. God, the amount of times he had heard her complaining about how they sagged, how they were asymmetrical- he didn’t care about that at all. He took a breast in his hand, his thumb brushing her nipple just to watch the dark red nub harden from his touch.

“I’ll be gone six months, a year at most. Remember, Martha, you hold my heart.”

He wasn’t gone for two months.

George sat in his office- his head screaming. He had been home close to a year and the pain never got better. His leg pain did though- especially the right one, the one the surgeons completely removed from his body. He felt phantom pains, but a former FBI agent had taught him how to deal with that.

It’s purely psychological, he had said. Tell your brain it’s not there and eventually that’s what it’ll start to believe.  

That pain had finally gone away, but his head- the noises never stopped. The IUD that had exploded beneath their humvee. The voices of his men as they scraped him from the ground. The sound of artillery fire, the helicopter blades whirring, various beeps, clanking from his men’s packs- the noises never stopped.

Nearby, gunshots ran through the air, then silence. One more gunshot and George was throwing himself to the floor. They took his gun. They took his fucking gun. 

A knock sounded at the door. George removed his prosthetic leg and dragged himself to the side of the door.

“George, I hear you moving in there. Open up!”

God, like he was fucking stupid. Never open the door to the enemy. For all George knew, the man on the other side of the door was the one doing the shooting.

George sat on his side of the door, his head resting against the wall. He could hear the breaths of his men around him, their voices all screaming his name. Why did his leg suddenly hurt? He opened his eyes and looked down at his waist. Why were his fatigues splashed red? Why was he suddenly weak?  

“George?”

He closed his eyes once more and did what he always would in times when the fighting calmed down- he thought of his wife. He thought of her beautiful curves, that little pudge she had around her waist, her thighs- oh god, those glorious thighs. He wanted nothing more than to part them, to feel them straddling his lap once again.

He opened his eyes- his beautiful Martha was in front of him, a blue dress wrapped around her, her long olive legs standing in front of him and those heels- those heels.

“Martha-” he whispered. “Martha, I don’t think I’m coming home.”

Those legs, those fucking olive legs, straddled his lap. Her hair smelled fucking delectable.

“Oh god, Martha. If this is how I die, I’ll welcome it gladly.”

“Georgie, please come back to me. You hold my heart in your hands. You always have.”

The lips that pressed against his were too real to be those wet dreams he had. “Martha?”

“Come back to me, Georgie,” she whispered.

No longer was he surrounded by his men. The screams of his men were gone. The room was silent, save the quiet sobs that fell from his mouth. George threw his arms around Martha and pulled her to his chest. Her hair brushed against his face as she pressed her forehead against his.

“Martha,” he sobbed, his hand wrapping her hair in a fist, pulling her closer to him. “Martha.

“Shh George. I’m here. I’m okay, you’re okay.” She pulled his hand from her hair and set it on her chest. “Can you feel my breathing? Breathe with me George. Come on- in, out.”

His sobs quieted and his breathing slowed. “Martha, I can still hear their screams.”

“I know, Georgie. I know.” Her body left his lap and knelt in front of him. “Georgie?”

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“How did you manage to get your legs off without taking off your pants?”

George laughed, wiping at the tears and snot on his face. “Adrenaline, maybe? I don’t really know.” He shifted his body and pulled off his jacket. “Can we go home? I can’t be here anymore.”

“Of course, Georgie. Do you want to put your leg back on or do you want me to get your crutches?”

George took a shuddering breath. “Can you grab my chair instead? It’s in the closet.”

“Of course George. I’d do anything for you.”

George smiled. He knew she would. She was a saint and he had no idea what he did to deserve her, but boy, was he glad he did it. “Martha, you hold my heart in your hands.”

Martha snorted from the closet. “And currently your leg.”

George laughed the hardest he had in a long time. “And my leg.”

[usnavens]

George and Martha Washington.

[lcvekeery]

hamilton as characters from heathers

hamilton: veronica sawyer

aaron burr: heather duke

king george: heather chandler

maria reynolds: jason dean

lafayette: ram

hercules mulligan: kurt

eliza: heather mcnamara

washington: ms. fleming

peggy: martha dunnstock

[thebulletinhamilton-quotes]

George Washington: He [John Laurens] must be breaking all the girls’ hearts.

Martha Washington, reading her book: George, he’s gay.

[legrandepapillon]

The Not-So-Secret-Santa (pegtha)

Summary: When one has the trademark loudmouths, Thomas Jefferson, Hercules Mulligan, and Alexander Hamilton, in on a game that requires secretiveness… let’s just say, things don’t go as planned. Prompt: Secret Santa Beginning Notes: more christmas gays!

When Angelica Schuyler walked into the coffee shop her group of friends─and little sisters─frequented, she commanded attention. Especially judging from the way a scowl painted her gorgeous features, and her eyes seemed narrowed into thin, angry slits. Now, it may just be James Madison’s imagination playing tricks on him, but the young man is almost a thousand percent sure that the entire─extremely busy, what with it being colder than a well digger’s ass outside─coffee shop goes silent when she enters.

“Angelica!” Eliza says, looking up from where she’d been texting Alexander─who, out of their merry band of friends, was the only one not in attendance─and waving her sister over. “Over here!”

Angelica maneuvers her way through the crowd of people─but not before stopping briefly at the cash register to order a coffee─and joins the group sitting in the back. They’ve somehow managed to crowd themselves into the only booth big enough to fit all twelve of them─and even so, several people have pulled chairs up to the table in order to fit comfortably. Angelica takes a chair from Lafayette─who goes to drape themselves over the laps of Hercules and George─and slams her coffee cup down onto the table.

“Where the hell is Alexander? And Samuel, King and Charles?” she asks with an edge to her voice, noticing the absence of bickering that usually went on between her brother-in-law and his frenemies. None of them were anywhere in sight. “I thought I told you that I need all of you here.”

“Alex got caught up at the station,” Eliza says, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “And those three had to go and meet Charles’ parents for lunch. Sammy just told me to text him whatever you needed to tell us and he’d relay it to the group.”

Sighing at her friends total inability to follow simple instructions, Angelica looks around at the people that were there. Thomas, James and Aaron had all managed to show up─which was a feat in and of itself. For a polyamorous couple, it seemed very rare that anyone managed to catch more than two of them together at a time. There was always one out of the three missing─at work, running errands, out of town.

George was there, as well, which was pretty shocking. He was so busy with being a congressman most of the time that he was hardly ever around─so much so that for the first year of his relationship with Hercules and Lafayette, Angelica had thought it was just those two. She hadn’t even known that George was a part of their romance until she attended a housewarming party for Peggy and accidentally walked in on three of them getting hot and heavy in a closet.

And Peggy. Peggy always seemed to be working at her actual job─she worked at the very cafe that Angelica told them to meet in─or on her youth programs. She─along with John Laurens, who seemed very zoned out on whatever he was doodling on the cafe napkins─was an activist that ran several non-profit charities for youth. Big Brother, Big Sister mentoring guides for LGBTQ+ kids, scholarship programs for inner-city kids and all-girls empowerment summer camp for preteen and teenage girls. The poor woman was so busy with all of these endeavors that it was rare that Angelica and Eliza were able to get together with her, which is why Angelica chose her lunch break during work to meetup with the gang.

“What’s up, Angie? Why’d you need us all here?” Thomas asks, snapping the woman from her reverie. Angelica exhales, looks around at the group one last time before making sure to turn her attention to her sisters.

“Mom and Dad called me last night. They said we won’t be having our annual family Christmas like usual,” she pauses here to gauge her sisters reactions, and is surprised to not find the level of distress that she thought she would. Both girls seem pretty bummed, but not as devastated as she’d expected. “So, I was wondering if the rest of you were busy this Christmas, and if not, if we could plan something for us here. Like a family.”

“Well, my Dad doesn’t want me bringing these two back if I go down to Virginia for Christmas, so I’m pretty freed up,” George says, adding a packet of artificial sweetner to his coffee in an attempt to look bored─though everyone sitting at the booth can tell just how hurt he is at this. “Hercules just has James here and Marie said she can’t go back to France.”

“My grandmother… when I told her I was trans, she uh… she told me that she never wanted to see my face again. However, Adrienne is coming into town. If I celebrate with you all, can she come as well?” Marie asks, leaning her head on the heel of her hand. Angelica waves her hand in dismissal, though she can tell by the way Marie’s eyes light up that she’s made her friend extremely happy.

“That’s absolutely fine, hon. What about you guys?” Angelica nods towards the end of the booth, where Thomas, Aaron and James were chatting quietly amongst themselves. They all look up in confusion─making it obvious to the woman that they hadn’t been paying attention. “Doing anything for Christmas?”

“Well,” Aaron begins. “I usually spend my Christmas’ watching Lifetime movies and eating takeout, so… no. I’m free.”

“Ever since Herc and I’s parents passed, I just spend it doing whatever Hercules does. Why?”

“I’m not going back to Virginia this year, my mother has a new boyfriend and I don’t really feel like being around all that mess.”

“Good. You’re spending the holidays with us. Alright, I’ve got Marie, Thomas, Adrienne, James, Hercules, George, and myself. Eliza, Peggy?” Angelica begins scribbling the names down on a notepad from her purse, formulating a guest list so that she’d know how much cooking she’d need to do for the holiday at hand.

“I’m down, but can I bring Martha? She’s like the Scrooge of Christmas─hates the holidays. I wanna show her true Christmas joy, y’know. It’ll be romantic. Might even get laid.” John audibly groans at how cliche Peggy sounds, before reminding her that she’s talking about his stepsister─so show a little decorum. The woman sticks her tongue out at him, and Angelica laughs at the two before agreeing.

“Well, since Martha is going… John you might as well go,” Eliza says, looking to her boyfriend─who wrinkles his nose. “C’mon. Alex and I are definitely going, and you know you don’t want to go back to South Carolina for Christmas. It’ll be fun! We can do Secret Santa!”

“Ooh, yes!” Marie exclaims, removing her sketchpad from her satchel. She flips to an empty page and begins scribbling everyone’s names down. “Okay… Angelica, let me see your beanie.”

Angelica hands over the hat, eyebrow raised. With careful and precise fingers, Marie rips the paper with the names into small little shreds─each shred of paper holding someone’s name. She folds them in half before dumping them all into the beanie.

“I’m adding Charles, King and Sammy in here… Eliza, you can pick for the three of them and text them who they got,” Marie says, dumping the shreds of paper into the hat and mixing them around. “John, you pick for Alex but don’t look at who he got, alright? Just give him the paper when you see him. Rules for the Secret Santa? You obviously can’t tell the person you’re buying for that it’s you, no going over thirty dollars for materials, no buying gift cards, and you have to make it.”

There’s voices of protest at the last rule, but the look Marie sends the group could rival Angelica’s. It doesn’t, of course, because Angelica is the queen of glaring─but it could.

Marie takes a slip of paper from the hat before passing it to Hercules, who repeats the motion. The beanie goes around the table until it ends with George removing the last piece of paper.

Angelica grins at the name on her piece of paper.  Eliza and Thomas both groan─probably because the people they chose are difficult to shop for. Peggy does a fist pump, John smiles wistfully, James, George and Aaron seem to be indifferent either way, and Hercules gives a smile that says ‘oh, this will be very fun’.

“Who did you get?” John asks his girlfriend, as he, Eliza and Alex push their cart around the crafts shop. They’d all agreed to go shopping for their materials at the same time, in the same place─to save money, and gas. However, the young brunette sitting in the cart is quickly becoming to regret agreeing upon that─seeing as this is the sixth time John has asked her this question, and Alexander had asked twelve times before. Eliza looks up at him with an expression that can only be described as a mixture between ‘offense’ and ‘exhaustion’. “What? I’m just curious!”

“Yeah, and curiosity killed the cat,” she teases, before directing him to turn down the aisle that has yarn. “I’ve already said this, John! I can’t tell you! It’s called a Secret Santa! What if you tell them that I’m the one making their present? Geez, I know you’re a rebel, but it can’t be this hard for you to follow the rules.”

“Wow. You’re really passionate about the do’s and don’ts of Secret Santa, aren’t you?” he asks, as she directs him to put some navy blue yarn in the cart. She nods her head just as Alexander comes bolting towards them with arms full of markers, crayons, colored pencils and pens.

“Alex! You’re supposed to be shopping for materials for your Secret Santa, not thing you like,” Eliza chastises playfully, before squeaking in indignance when he dumps all the materials on her.

“Shut up. I’m making John a poster,” he says.

“Alex!” Eliza whines, and John laughs loudly. Well, at least he could trust that his gift would be made with love.

Lafayette sits cross-legged in the middle of their living room, hands gently maneuvering the clay on the pottery wheel. Their eyes are concentrated on the machine, all of their attention focused on the design of the clay to make the shape they want.

“Laffy, I’m sorry darlin’, but I’m curious. Who in the hell would want a homemade clay pot?” George asks, looking down at them from his spot on the couch. He’d been focused on CNN news, but the gentle whirring of the machine had drawn his attention several minutes ago and the curiosity had been eating at him. Lafayette doesn’t offer a response, simply shrugs their shoulders and continues to gently knead the clay on the wheel. “I can’t think of anyone in our group that would find use for that.”

“Then you’re not thinking hard enough,” they respond calmly, reaching their hand into the opening in order to manipulate the shape even further. George opens his mouth to retort something equally as sassy, but Hercules enters their apartment at that very moment─arms filled to the brim with varying colors of yarn─soft pinks and blues, bright neon greens and yellows… and just as George is confused as to who in their circle of friends would want a flower pot, he is confused as to who would want all those colors clashing together.

“Y’know, mo chroí, you’re an awfully hard person to drum up ideas for,” Hercules says, dumping the materials beside George on the couch to press a kiss to their forehead. Lafayette gives a squeal of annoyance at Hercules having revealed who he was Secret Santa-ing to; and by relation having revealed who Lafayette’s Secret Santa is.

“Herc, mon coeur! It was supposed to be a surprise, non?” they exclaim, finally tearing their eyes away from their pottery. “You’ve ruined it for me!”

“Aw man, I’m sorry, Laf!” Hercules responds, plopping down beside them on the floor. At first George believes he’s being sarcastic, but when his eyes land on his boyfriend’s face, he can tell that he’s genuinely apologetic. It’s cute, how he recognizes the importance of this to Lafayette and respects that. “This Secret Santa thing slipped my mind.”

“Hey, darlin’, the surprise isn’t entirely ruined,” George pipes up, easing down onto the floor with the other to. “You don’t know what he’s going to make. I promise, I’ll help Herc hide whatever he’s making for you, so that you can be surprised on Christmas. Sound good?”

And though Lafayette is still pouting, both men can tell that this considerably makes it better.

“I don’t even know Maria that well!” Thomas exclaims for what seems to be the billionth time since they got who they’d be making presents for, as he scrolls through ideas for gifts on Pinterest. “Why can’t I just buy her something? It’d be so much easier!”

“Firstly, Thomas, the whole point of Secret Santa was for us not to know who you’d be making a present for,” Aaron reprimands, for what seems to be the billionth time in response to Thomas’ complaining. He’s making what seems to be personally designed coffee mugs─using blank templates and markers designed for ceramic art to design them. He’d been pretty good at hiding who his present was for, though Thomas can just barely make out a ‘G’ on one of the mugs. “Secondly, you’re supposed to make it because it’s supposed to come from the heart. These aren’t just our friends, they’re our family, too.”

“That’s lame,” the Virginian huffs, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. He dramatically drapes himself over the armrest of their couch, tossing his arm over his eyes like the drama queen he is. “Why can’t I just pay someone to make something for me?”

“Can I pay someone to kick your ass? Maybe then you’d stop complaining,” Aaron murmurs under his breath, picking up another marker to doodle something on the coffee mug. Surprisingly, he’s met with silence─until his phone chimes with a notification. Curiously, Aaron picks up his phone to read it─finding that it’s from Facebook.

Thomas Jefferson ─ with Maria Reynolds, Angelica Schuyler and 15 others.

Need help coming up with ideas for Maria’s Secret Santa present… anyone care to help out?

“Goddamnit, Thomas, it’s supposed to be a Secret!” James yells from the other room─obviously having got the notification as well. Thomas gives a groan of annoyance at this, probably remembering that tagging the person you’re going to be Secret Santa-ing for is not the smartest idea.

“But keeping it secret is hard!”

“Looks like I won’t have to pay anyone to kick your ass,” Aaron chuckles, setting his phone down and glancing towards his boyfriend. Both Thomas and Aaron’s phones are blowing up with notifications─though neither of them need to check them to see it’s probably their group of friends reprimanding him on sharing who he was supposed to be the Secret Santa for. Thomas quirks an eyebrow, and his lover finishes with, “Angelica is probably going to do it for me.”

By the time Christmas Day rolls around, most of the people in the group participating know who their Secret Santa is─and those that don’t know for sure at least have some sort of inkling. What with loudmouths Alexander Hamilton, Hercules Mulligan and Thomas Jefferson letting everyone know not only who their gifts were for, but who their spouses gifts were for and gossips Peggy and Maria spreading around rumors as to who made presents for who… yeah, the whole idea of the Secret Santa actually being a secret was moot.

And Angelica was quick to let the perpetrators know just how disappointed she was in them for not being able to hold water.

“Well,” she says, after they’ve all retired to her living room following a pretty amazing Christmas dinner. Her eyes travel over their faces─and at least most of the culprits have the decency to look ashamed. “This was supposed to be a Secret Santa, but thanks to a select few that can’t seem to let anyone enjoy anything… you might as well tell you who brought your gift for that it was you. I’ll start.”

Crossing over to the Christmas tree, Angelica removes a small wrapped box and hands it to Peggy’s girlfriend, Martha. “I looked up how to transfer photographs onto wood, and then I got this picture from Peggy. It didn’t come out as good as I thought it would, but I figured you would like it.”

It’s a professionally taken photo─probably taken by Charles who was a photographer. The two women were on the beach, and Martha had her arms draped over Peggy’s shoulders. Peggy’s hand came up in the photo to hold Martha’s, and her head was turned just slightly to the side to press a kiss against her cheek. Martha had that picture posted across all of her social media accounts─it was her profile picture for Instagram, Facebook, Twitter… she’d told Peggy countless times that it was her favorite photograph.

“Aw, Angie, I love it!” Martha exclaims, taking the block of wood from her adopted sister. “Thank you, so much! I’m going to put it up in my office.”

After hugging Angelica in thanks, Martha goes over to the tree to get the present that she made for Peggy. Except, she didn’t make it. It’s a small box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, and when she presents it to Peggy she drops onto one knee.

Everyone in the room either gasps or goes deathly silent.

“I admit, I cheated,” Martha chuckles, looking up at her girlfriend as she removes the wrapping paper and flips open the lid on the box. The ring inside is gorgeous─and it has two birthstones on it, with a small engraving that no one can really read. “I didn’t make this. I bought it, from George. I um… I’ve been dating you, Peggy, for about two years. When I first met you at John’s birthday party, something told me that I’d need to do anything to keep you in my life forever. From your big heart to your sweet soul… I knew you were the one for me. And day in, day out you prove that to me. So I’ve decided that I need to do something to prove it to you. And this is it. Will you… will you marry me?”

Peggy is speechless. She opens and closes her mouth several times, eyes watering with tears, before finally she throws her arms around her girlfriend─fiancee now─and simply nods her head.

Well, at least some secret presents could be kept.

Translations

mo chroí ─ my heart (Irish)

mon coeur ─ my heart (French)