#hamiltonxjefferson

[pandurrpink]

I had to draw this ฅ(*°ω°*ฅ)*is from the agent au by @jamsandhams and it is how alexander’s first mission will be (≧∇≦)/hope u like it #art #au #fandom #hamilton #hamiltonmusical #alexanderhamilton #thomasjefferson #jamiltom #hamiltonxjeffersonagentau #agent #funny #comictraditionalart #lol #sketch

[my-dear-anonym]

Heads or Tails? - Jamilton/Hamlaf (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/PQ48aE2lGE 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

[aannr]

Eye of the Hurricane - Chapter Four

“ - and so you ran.” Angelica Schuyler, in all her intricacies and tendencies towards complex ideological structures, managed to summarize Hamilton’s plight into a pitiful phrase.

His fingers fiddled with the cloth of the blanket, dragging his blunt nails along the surface absently. It was about the right shade, Hamilton speculated, as he tried to come up with some kind of retort, but he just felt so ashamed. “I didn’t run.” He said, then changed tactics, backtracking because he couldn’t believe how childish he sounded, but his mouth, like usual, was quicker than his brain. “You haven’t met him! You don’t know!”

Angelica rolled her eyes, setting her tea cup onto its little matching saucer. “Alexander,” she chided, crossing her legs and leaning back into the cushions of her seat. “You were afraid of something you did not understand and you ran.”

Continue here

[aannr]

Eye of the Hurricane - Chapter Three

Disgusted and bewildered, Hamilton snatched his hand from Jefferson’s grasp, fighting to keep control of himself. A part of him, something primal and aggressive and new, growled at Hamilton’s restraint - the other, rational, logical side, the part of Hamilton was used to utilizing, held back his instincts with cables of steel-plated will.

“Secretary Hamilton?” Washington’s voice flitted through the haze of the omega’s mind. The omega suddenly found himself being escorted by Jefferson to one of the couches lining the edges of the office.

His nerves were on fire, individual fibers ran with some molten substance, but Hamilton felt cold with humiliation as he sat down with a grunt. He’d never experienced something so intense...so personal.

“Alexander,” Washington quietly intoned. “Are you alright?”

Grunting, Hamilton shifted, leaning against the arm of the couch. He felt as if he were going to burst - as if he were coming apart at the seams.

Absently, Hamilton recalled hearing, from passing omegas in public, about the rare occurrence of meeting one’s soulmate - the word resonated within him somewhere deep, somewhere carnal - but he’d never actually done his research on the subject, figuring something as blissful as discovering one’s soulmate would never happen to a disaster of a man like himself.

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[aannr]

Eye of the Hurricane - Chapter Two

Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the United States Treasury, undoubtedly worked harder than any man George Washington had ever met. The omega before him stood, hunched with fatigue, but still standing and speaking with such conviction over the documents he'd reluctantly surrendered to his boss that Washington had no doubt that the omega had poured over all night. With a quirk of his brow Washington rescinded the thought, Hamilton looked as if he'd poured over this document for weeks.

Then there was a knock and Hamilton's passionate epithet stopped mid-sentence. He rocked his gaze over to the door as Washington’s secretary popped her head through the frame, “I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. President, but Secretary Jefferson is here.”

Washington nodded, standing with a grunt, “Send him in.”

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[aannr]

Eye of the Hurricane - Chapter One

Alexander Hamilton, upon his time in the war, had proven himself to be incomprehensibly unpredictable. They tried to set him into a niche, to exact their bias against the immigrant, to reign in the storm of a man and settle him into a job more suitable for one with his...disability. But the omega, with words and passion, proved bigger than anything anyone could have ever bargained for.

Omegas, traditionally, had no place in war. Society deemed it against their natural disposition to take a life and that their constitution for obedience made them a liability to their allies. Unspoken, it was understood that an omega under stress was more dangerous than an enemy - especially since the majority of an army tended to be untrained, aggressive alphas.

Yet, Hamilton had managed to destroy - because the omega always tended to deliberately exceed standards - the social stigma and expose it for what it was: a unprecedented power play based off rumored conventions and the untrue, biased testimony of the uneducated in places of power.

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[edschee]

"For Once,"

A Jamilton fanfic that no one asked for. It's been stuck in my head. Don't judge me,, --------- Thomas tore at the edges of his papers, frustration ebbing away at his mind. Hamilton, the god-forsaken immigrant who couldn't take a hint to shut up if it walked up and slapped him in the face, had won yet ANOTHER argument, and of course Washington had sided with him. For once in his life, Jefferson wanted to prove him wrong. He wanted to see those soft brown eyes at a loss of what to say. He wanted to see his soft-looking lips quiver at the thought of loosing. Alexander always got that shit-eating grin on his face when he had won an argument, and Thomas couldn't wait to smack it off. Just once, for once in his life, Alexander had to be wrong. "Sorry, Tommy, but hey, at least you get to see how a good politician works," Alexander taunted, condescendingly strolling over to where Thomas sat to boop him on the nose. There was that grin, the one he despised. And those soft lips, and those brown eyes.. Thomas rolled his eyes, tapping his quill against the desk. "Oh, puh-lease, we all know the only reason you can ever beat me is because you fulfill Washington's daddy kink," he countered, scrunching up his nose in distaste. Alexander scoffed, leaning one hand on Thomas's desk. "Very mature, Jefferson. You'd better be careful he doesn't overhear you saying that, or you might have to scrub the toilets. After all, isn't the bathroom where the pieces of shit go," Alexander teased, letting out a little laugh before he strolled over and started gossiping with George himself as he packed up his stuff to head home for the day. Jefferson stacked his papers, doing his best not to crumple them with the anger that pulsed through his body. His face was flushed, bright red, and anyone who gave him even a glance could tell he had just about enough of Mr. Nonstop. Why did such an infuriating personality have to be behind such a handsome face? Why did those brown eyes, so gentle and kind, have to turn into snake eyes when they looked at him? Why did those lips, smiling and happy, have to turn to a scowl whenever he entered the room? Why was he getting feelings over the man who constantly mocked and argued with him? They both had wives, for goodness sakes, why did it even matter? "Thomas, is everything alright?" Jefferson hadn't even noticed he was mumbling until a soft voice came from behind him. It was James Madison, one of his closest friends. And he wasn't worried for no reason. Jefferson's hair was frizzed out even more than usual, stray curls poking out in all directions. His eyes had bags, sinking his facial features into his skin. He looked a mess, had he really been loosing that much sleep? "Yes, yes, I'm fine," Jefferson said, quickly brushing it off. Before James could ask any more questions he was out the door, hardly even paying attention to where he was walking. His only thoughts were on those eyes, those lips... ~•~•~•~•~ The next day dragged on like eons, yet Thomas felt no need to rush. His eyes kept wilting at his desk, tired from yet another sleepless night. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, his work stretching in front of him like an endless road of boredom. And yet, his mind wasn't on his work at all, and neither were his eyes. Past his hooded eyelids all he was looking at was Alexander, those eyes never moving from the papers in front of him. His hair was back in a ponytail, like they used to wear it back during the war. With his hear out of his face, every little detail of his handsome face was clearly visible, flushing Thomas's face. He knew Alexander wouldn't notice the staring, he was too enveloped in his work to even realize someone calling out his name. Jefferson felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped up to turn around, seeing a grin plastered on the face of his best friend. "Oh, Madison, what do you need, my man?" Thomas said casually, like he hadn't just be falling asleep at his desk. "I think the more propitiate question is, what do YOU need?" Madison answered, pulling up a chair to sit by his friend. "You should really be careful what you leave on your desk. Look what I found." Madison handed Jefferson a folded up piece of paper, and he immediately knew exactly what it was, his stomach dropping. " 'My dearest Alexander'? 'It's frustrates me than you cannot see through to my affections'? Thomas, I didn't know you were such a writer, and such a sap too!" Madison teased quietly, making sure no other man in the room could hear. "Shut up! How do you even know I wrote that? I'm just holding it for a friend," Thomas desperately tried to cover it up, putting the note in the corner of his desk, open. "Oh come on, I've seen the way you look at him," Madison said knowingly, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You should tell him. Maybe Washinton's daddy kink isn't the only one he'll be a part of." After a smack on the head, Madison left Jefferson red-faced at his desk, hiding behind his giant locks of hair. After he steadied his angry breathing, his emotions took a turn for anxiety. Did he really like Alexander that much? Did he really WANT to confess? Thomas pushed himself up from his desk, shaking his head a little as he made his way out the door. Going for a walk always let him clear his head. It was dark out already, nearly time to go home. He didn't go far, just two loops around the building, but when he got back, a pair of soft, brown eyes and lips were waiting for him at the door. "Where have you been, slacker? Off seducing some lady?" Hamilton joked, smiling over at Jefferson. "I'm not in the mood for you, you creole bastard," Jefferson huffed, pushing past him. The last person he needed at the moment was him, as much as he was dying to wipe away that shit-eating grin. But before he could slip through the doors, he felt Alexander grab his wrist. "Thomas, wait, I'm sorry." Jefferson stopped dead, his heart pounding. Did he really just say that? A few moments passed, stretching on for what seemed like forever, until Thomas finally let go of the door handle and turned back to him. "Thomas, look, I... I read that letter on your desk. I saw my name and I, well.. I guess I figured you had said something wrong or rude about me and-" "You did what?! You have got to be kidding me,," Thomas interrupted, rubbing his temple with one of his hands. He didn't think he could feel more embarrassed. "Would you believe me if I said it was a joke?" A heartbeat of silence passed. "No, but.. Could I at least give you my response?" When Jefferson made no reply, Hamilton moved a bit closer, letting his hand rest on the side of the other man's face. Very slowly, giving Thomas plenty of time to pull back, he drew their faces nearer until their lips met. His lips were as soft as they looked. Thomas felt Hamilton's other hand on his hip and let his own hands wrap around him until they almost melted into each other. They didn't kiss like they were only doing it for pleasure. It was a gentle, almost comforting connection that they were sharing. One that would be favored down to the the last second. Suddenly, Alexander no longer felt Thomas against him. He had pulled back, and was leaning against the door again. His eyes were locked on the ground, and after a brief moment Alexander realized he looked like he might cry. "Thomas, I-" "Thanks, Alexander. You really had me thinking you cared for a second there." "Thomas...?" "Trust me, Alexander. You don't actually love me. You know it and I know it. You're just in love with the fact that I love you, not me as a person. But it's okay, you know. Just focus on winning our next debate," Jefferson forced a smile and slipped through the doors without waiting for a response. Well, at least for once, he had been right. -------- Sorry this isn't much good, it's just kinda stuck with me for a while and I wanted to share it. Also my apologizes for typos, again I just wanted to get it down :>

[pastelroyalty]

I now ship Hamilton/Jefferson (strictly within the Hamilton Musical sense) and I hate myself but I love it But If anyone wants to roleplay Jamilton PLEASE HIT ME UP Or Laurens/Hamilton for that matter (Lamilton?)