#washingdad

[mimimouseeeee]

Hamilton: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it.

Washington: Just rip the bandage off.

Hamilton: It’s Thomas.

Washington: Put the bandage back on.

#alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton quotes #incorrect hamilquotes #hamilquotes #incorrect hamilton quotes #hamiltrash #philip hamilton #incorrect quotes #eliza hamilton #thomas jefferson #washingdad #george washington #lams #funny #john laurens #hamilton musical #aaron burr #jamilton #haha #love #memes #romance #crush #source: scatterpatter's incorrect quotes generator

[justanotherhamiltrash]

Hamilton: THAT'S IT! I QUIT!

Laurens: Ha! Sure you are.

Hamilton: what

Laurens: I'm just saying you tried to quit working for Washington before and yet *gestures vaguely at the White House* here we are.

Yea, that's canon to me XD

#lmao #love this #hamilton #incorrect hamilton quotes #hamilton incorrect quotes #incorrect hamilquotes #laurens #john laurens #washingdad #washington #lams #ask #thank you! #nonepizzawithleftglitter #:D

[shmaileigh]

overworking is soso quirky hammie

#hamilton fanart #alexander hamilton #george washington #george washingdad #washingdad

[vmpirevnom]

Alexander: okay I hear Washington coming, try to act natural.

-Washington walks in-

Ben: hey, dad.

John Laurens: I’d kill for you, dad.

Lafayette: papa!

Alexander: what did I just say-

#turn amc #turn washington's spies #turn: washingtons spies #amrev #lafayette #crack #ben tallmadge #marquis de lafayette #meme #benjamin tallmadge #turn crack #alexander hamilton #john laurens #turn memes #turn incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #washingdad

[call-me-obsessed1755]

Based off yet another interaction in the Hamilton roleplay discord server

General Washington: *complements Hamilton*

Hamilton:

#Hamilton #george washingdad #george washington #washingdad #the platypus can draw apparently #alexander hamilton

[cecescomposition]

Hello, Lovelies! Here’s a little something something to hold you all over while I work on my longer pieces for June of Doom! This was inspired by my annoying neighborhood doing fireworks in the middle of the day today :)

Whoever decided to set off hundreds of fireworks to celebrate war heroes was an idiot. The way they light up the sky for the briefest of moments, the sounds that resemble something far too akin to bombs.

It’s what sent Alexander Hamilton to where he is now, huddled under the general’s desk like a child, shaking with tears stinging in his eyes (he wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry).

He is meant to be downstairs, celebrating the Americans’ long awaited victory with the rest of his troops. He knows he should be down there, but he just can’t bear to be there with the windows wide open to allow any memories to flow in with the smoke of the bombs (fireworks, only fireworks, Alexander).

He feels safer here, as if he is somehow more protected from the dangers of the outside with the thin curtains General Washington’s office provides. Once the firework show is over, he tells himself, he will make his way back to the party and be decent and allow his fellow soldiers to clap him on the back and hand him a drink and-

His thoughts are cut off by a particularly loud set of rockets. A small shriek bursts from Hamilton’s throat before he can stop himself. He jumps, because it seems the noise was enough to summon the knock that comes to the door.

“Hamilton?” the General’s voice is muffled by the wood. “Are you alright in there?”

“Fine, sir,” Alexander tries to reassure the older man. He cringes at how his voice wavers.

He nearly groans when the door swings open, and a familiar pair of boots appear in front of him.

—-

The general lowers himself to peer under his desk, and right there is young Alexander Hamilton. The boy is cowering in on himself, trembling like a leaf and blushing as red as a tomato. Hamilton was clearly embarrassed.

“What’s gotten you so worked up, my boy?” Washington prods.

Alexander opens his mouth, though Washington isn’t sure if he expects an answer or a witty remark. His aide doesn’t get the chance to say what was on his mind anyway, as another bout of fireworks cuts him off.

Alexander jumps nearly out of his skin and curls into himself further, a single tear making its way down his hot cheek.

Ah, now Washington understands.

“You don’t enjoy the fireworks,” when Washington says it, it isn’t a question.

Hamilton buries his face in his arms.

“You need not be embarrassed, Hamilton, we all have our fears. I only wish you had told me instead of slipping away,” he attempts a smile at the boy, but it’s no use. Alexander won’t look at him.

The aide’s voice is muffled when he speaks next.

“I didn’t hear you,” Washington says gently. He places a hand gently atop Hamilton’s arm, and the boy peers up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not afraid of the fireworks,” he repeats for the general to hear.

“No?”

“No.”

“Then of what?”

Hamilton simply shakes his head. He’s tired, he doesn’t want to speak of this right now.

Washington seems to understand, but he sure as hell isn’t leaving this child to deal with whatever ails him alone.

So Washington says nothing, simply scoots so he is sitting with his back pressed against the desk. He is much larger than Hamilton, he can’t fit under the desk, but he will sit with the boy until he is ready to speak, or return downstairs.

Washington won’t rush him.

Because he knows there’s plenty of work to be done tomorrow.

#hamilton musical #hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #hamilton au #hamilton fanfiction #george washington #washingdad #fireworks #hurt/comfort #ptsd flashbacks

[trendyshadowqueen]

Hamilton: What goes up but never comes down? Washington: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

#incorrect quotes #hamilton the musical #alexander hamilton #george washington #washingdad

[that-gal-kay]

Yes hello it's almost five in the morning and I can't sleep, so have some sick Hamilton and Washingdad.

Sorry this is not formatted or edited and I'm really tired. Enjoy!

***

The entire household breathes a sigh of relief when the fever at last releases Hamilton. After weeks trapped in its devastating hold and Washington told to prepare for the worst, the doctor steps out of the cloistered room and declares the fever broken. Somehow the boy lives.

"He needs rest, Your Excellency," the doctor chides gently as Washington rises from his desk. He must see Hamilton for himself. Over these weeks the doctor has kept everyone away, for fear of the fever spreading. Washington's had only glimpses into the room. 

Washington brushes past the doctor and opens the door, steps into the room and instantly feels the lingering vestiges of fever. The room is hot, stuffy, and reeks still of sick. 

But there on the bed, tucked under a thin blanket, is Hamilton. The poor boy is drenched in sweat, shivering and restless. Washington approaches the bed, picks up a damp cloth left on a nearby chair. 

He sits, the chair creaking, and reaches to dab the cloth at Hamilton’s forehead. The boy moans, turns his head, and after a long struggling moment, opens his eyes. 

"There you are, my boy," Washington’s relief is immediate. Much as he tries to swallow any extreme emotion, his voice cracks. He watches as Hamilton’s bleary gaze searches the far wall before slowly coming to settle on Washington, and the general can't help but softly smile. "You gave your family quite a fright," he thinks of the letters he's sent to Laurens and Lafayette, trying to downplay the severity of the boy's illness. "But the doctor says you'll be well again soon. The fever is broken and with rest you'll mend in no time."

Hamilton blinks slowly. Washington sets the cloth aside and reaches forward, cups the back of the boy's neck. He gives a warm squeeze.

He is not yet fully awake and so he does not pull away. For a moment Washington feels he can impart some comfort when he has been helpless to provide any relief to Hamilton’s suffering. 

"I'll have a bath drawn. Some food brought in."

Hamilton’s brow furrows, exhaustion clinging to his features. Yet somehow he lifts his head from the bed. "Sir?"

"It's me, yes," Washington smiles again. "How do you feel?"

Hamilton’s brows twist together quizzically, an expression Washington’s seen before when he contemplates serious issues. Slowly he shifts further back on the bed, picks at his damp shirt.

"I… was ill?"

"Very," Washington draws back his hand and watches the boy with a keen eye. Something prods at his senses that perhaps not all is well, but he cannot put a finger on-

"A bath," Hamilton mutters. His brow furrows again. "I need a bath." He frowns and sluggishly lifts a hand to an ear, presses the heel against it.

"Yes, I'll have a bath drawn for you, as I said. Hamilton-"

"Sir?" The boy's eyes flick back to him, sharper, more alert.

And Washington knows him well enough to see the alarm lingering just behind.

"What is it? Do you still feel ill? I can summon the doctor back if you need-"

"You move your lips but don't speak," Hamilton interrupts. "Why?" Another frown, deeper, and the alarm breaks through. He presses against his ear again. "Am I speaking? I do not… I'm not sure."

A cold fear comes over Washington as he watches the boy move his jaw, press against both ears at once. All at once he draws in a sharp breath and turns his head to face him, eyes going wide. A pale, frightened child.

"Sir?"

Hamilton’s looking to Washington for an answer, but he has none. He is stunned, almost frozen.

"Sir?"

Washington snaps himself out of it, reaches forward and grasps the boy's arm. He squeezes, maybe a bit too tight, and leans in close. "I will get the doctor, " he says each word slowly.

Hamilton seems to understand, fear plain in his gaze now as realization settles in. He nods slowly. Washington rises from his seat and it's all he can do to walk calmly and not run out of the room to call the doctor back.

#hamilteaser #hamilton #hamilton fic #alexander hamilton #george washington #angst #washingdad #sickfic #deaf Alex #worried Washington #soft Washington #dare I write more to this?

[conjectureand-gloom]

sneak peek of day 7 of febuwhump- made to watch

Alexander swallows a groan. This isn’t General Washington, respectable leader of the continental army. No, this is George, worried leader and try-to-be father figure to Alexander, who doesn’t like it when Alexander calls him ‘Sir’, or ‘General’

i love the washingdad, so here you go, enjoy the washingdad with me :D

i’m aiming to get this fic out tmr, but i procrastinate, so don’t be too worried if it’s not out

#alexwrites #hamilton fanfiction #sneak peek #enjoy this little crumb of my fic #washingdad #george washingdad

[thathamiltonadict]

Hamilton cast playing the sims 4

hamilton: 100 baby challenge, very intense simmer, doesnt have any nice family gameplay purely utilitarian

eliza: very nice large legacy family, lots of family time, loves having lots of little babies

washington: tries to complete all of the aspirations, is a huge completionist

jefferson: creates so SO much drama, affairs, traps sims in the pool, defo has wicked whims

peggy: cries everytime one of her sims dies, makes herself and her crush and makes a family and plans out her life

#hamillton #alexander hamilton #hamilton jokes #funny hamilton #sims 4 #eliza schyler #eliza schyler hamilton #eliza hamilton #george washington #george washingdad #washingdad #tomas jefferson #thomas jefferson #peggy schyler #margarita peggy schyler #and peggy #funny ha #lmao hamilton

[mimimouseeeee]

Jefferson: Are you worried?

Hamilton: About what? But yeah.

#lol idk #alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton quotes #incorrect hamilquotes #hamilquotes #incorrect hamilton quotes #hamiltrash #philip hamilton #incorrect quotes #eliza hamilton #thomas jefferson #washingdad #george washington #lams #funny #john laurens #hamilton musical #aaron burr #jamilton #haha #source:tumblr #worried #stress #paranoid

[justanotherhamiltrash]

Washington: What's the situation in France like?

Lafayette: We good :)

Washington: No I meant like the news. What's going on and such?

Lafayette: Uhh... I... hmm.

#hamilton #washington #george washingdad #george washington #washingdad #lafayette #marquis de lafayette #incorrect hamilton quotes #incorrect hamilquotes #hamilton incorrect quotes

[not-ever-normal]

Starting a Hamilton dedicated sketchbook. Give me ideas! <3 (Ships allowed :) )

#Hamilton #Sketchbook #Hamilton dedicated sketchbook #ideas where? #Aaron Burr #Lafayette #Alexander Hamilton #Thomas Jefferson #James Madison #Washingdad #george washington #Can be Historically accurate #Can be not historically accurate #Ships allowed #Gay most likely

[tdotjdotbro]

The waaaaaay Tallmadge looks at Washington is like the way that I look at my husband when I'm drunk and I can't believe he married me. Like,,,

You're talking to me?

You're promoting meee to major?

I can only pray I make you proud. 🫡

#benjamin tallmadge #turn #washingdad #george washington #washingtons spies

[the1laff]

Small celebration for a small fic

I made 100 hits on my little Washingdad one-shot! I’d like to thank everyone who reads my little trash dumps, it’s makes writing a little bit more worth it :)

#ao3 writer #hamilton fanfiction #alexander hamilton #george washington #washingdad #fanfic #writeblr

[cecescomposition]

@febuwhump Alt Day 1: Rope Burns

Hello, Lovelies! Long time no see, but I will be having an angsty field day here :) Febuwhump just gets my muse going so well. My master list is going to be dominated by this. @that-gal-kay this may be a good read for you!

•••

“Alexander,” Washington whisper-shouted. “Knock it off.”

Hamilton did his best to cast a withering glare to the general, but ceased his struggling anyway. They had been captured on the road, a trivial journey to Albany to visit with some baron or another. They were unarmed, by the house owners own request, and realized a moment too late that their hosts had not had their best interests at heart.

“We’ve got to get you out of here, sir. We’ve no idea the information the baron gave them, and we have no way to warn John if they decide to-“

The deafening screech of the door cut off Hamilton’s musings. The redcoat who Hamilton had previously noted as their captor entered the dark room (cell) with a dangerous aura. He had been in here before, he had asked his questions (all of which the soldiers had refused to answer), and left without further fuss. Alexander had noted to Washington the strangeness of the man’s method. He didn’t feel right.

“Ready to tell us what we want to know, general?” the redcoat questioned, “My patience is growing thin. Your treatment has been thus forth gentle, and I would hate for one of you to be hurt because you can’t follow orders.”

Washington had heard the man’s questions, had been here for hours with the same inquiries being repeated over and over. This man either was stupid enough to think Washington would - would ever - give up such valuable information, or worse, he wasn’t betting on it.

Washington had seen many men like this, psychotic men who knew how the human mind worked. No, he wasn’t stupid. This was a soldier, a general maybe, and he had a plan.

“His Excellency would never be so inclined as to willingly hand over such information to the likes of you, sir,” Hamilton’s voice cut through George’s musings.

“Easy, Hamilton,” Washington murmured. This boy was going to be the death of him, maybe literally, if he didn’t stop talking. Alexander was trying to appear unfazed by their captor, but Washington could see through his guarded persona, Alexander was deeply unnerved by this man.

Hamilton turned his head towards the general slightly before feeling a painful tearing at his scalp has he was jerked straight again.

“Eyes on me,” the redcoat hissed, “I’m done playing with you two. Tell me what I want to know before I do something we will all regret.”

The redcoat’s entire demeanor had changed. Gone was his sinister smile, replaced with a much more expected yet equally terrifying scowl. His brow was furrowed so tight that Alexander wondered if it would be stuck like that.

Washington jerked in his restraints. This man was harming Hamilton, was hurting Alexander, and this sparked an anger in Washington like he hadn’t felt since that Godforsaken battle so long ago. His struggling took on a new desperation as the redcoat leaned close - far too close - to Hamilton’s face.

“You’ve a bright future, Lieutenant Hamilton. I’m sure you can easily convince your fellow rebels of the tragic tale of General Washington’s capture, as I may be so inclined to release you on good behavior…”

Washington tried to make eye contact with Alexander, attempting to urge him silently to not do anything rash. George didn’t even know which option was better: give up valuable information to save Hamilton’s life, or say nothing and they both die anyway. No, Washington had heard the questions, knew that information like that, information only Hamilton and John Laurens knew could kill their entire cause if in the wrong hands. But he couldn’t bare to think of Hamilton dead-

“I would sooner die than give into your meager attempt at bait to betray my cause, scum.”

Alexander was cut off by his own startled cry at the sharp slap to his face that followed. He glared up at the redcoat with his best defiant look, a small bleeding cut on his face where a man wears his ring.

“Suit yourself, Colonel. I’ve given you plenty a chance and you have wasted them. You’re going to play my way now,” the man grabbed Hamilton roughly by the collar and hauled him up. Washington shouted, beginning to struggle once more.

Alexander struggled, too. He jerked and kicked, scrambling for purchase as the redcoat tugged him towards the opposite wall. Washington felt the skin being rubbed off of his wrists, but his struggles didn’t cease because he was going to hurt Alexander. His so- his aide was going to be harmed and he couldn’t stop it.

Alexander was shoved to his knees in front of George, so close yet too far for Washington to reach out and touch him had he not been tied up, and the redcoat pulled the ropes more taught around his already bleeding wrists.

Hamilton wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain.

“You idiot! I’ll kill you, let me go! I swear to Providence, I will wipe you off the face of the-!”

“Hamilton!”

Alexander snapped his head to the right, straining to make eye contact with Washington. It was only one word - calling Alexander’s name - but it was an order.

Don’t be stupid.

Hamilton’s eyes were cleared of his fury for but a moment, before being torn away from Washington’s gaze when he received a sharp kick to the ribs.

“- - !”

He tries to speak, tried to shout some kind of obscenity at his now torturer. But nothing but a pathetic wheeze could makes its way past his lips as he felt something snap in his chest and push painfully.

“Tell me where your primary headquarters are,” the redcoat demanded.

Now Washington understood. This man was going to use Hamilton to break him, he knew what he was doing. He knew he was harming a man’s child.

And he knew the lengths a father will go to to protect his son.

“I can’t tell you,” Washington said anyway. Could he give up the lives of dozens, hundreds of men for this one boy?

There was another kick delivered, to the side of Hamilton’s head. This time he did cry out, listing to the side as blood began pooling down his jawline. Washington jerked forward, desperate to get to his aide and check on him.

“Answer me or I’ll beat him dead where he kneels. Don’t test me, General.” The redcoat spat out the title.

And on it went.

The man would ask a question, receive no answer, and Alexander slowly faded further away. He fought to remain conscious, he was strong, he wouldn’t give this man the ability to make him give up. He was Alexander Hamilton for a reason.

Washington struggled, too. He found himself resorting to begging for Hamilton’s life; He couldn’t give this man the information he wanted. He just couldn’t. But nothing could match the emotional pain Washington felt at seeing his aide, his bright, young Alexander slowly being taken away from this world.

Alexander’s eyes were half lidded, dilated beyond healthy, and no longer reacting to the brutal beating he was receiving.

“Stop!” Washington shouted, “Stop! Get away from him! You’re killing him!” His voice was becoming hoarser by the minute, and Hamilton was slipping farther.. farther…

Eventually the boy lost his battle and fell limp. From blood loss, fear, pain, or a combination of the three Washington didn’t know.

“Tell me what I want to know!”

“I can’t!”

“Well then,” the man pulled his heel back from Hamilton’s head, “have fun watching your whelp die, Your Excellency. The great General Washington indeed.”

The door slammed shut, and Washington was left deafened by the silence. It was unnerving.

“Hamilton,” he prodded gently, still unable to reach out for his boy.

“Alexander,” he said louder when he received no response.

Washington could tell, could feel that Hamilton was faded long gone. But he continued to pull and tug against the bonds that kept him from his aide.

Then he heard it, a soft moan from Alexander’s lips - or maybe just escaping air after death.

But no, that was Hamilton’s head that had moved, ever so slightly. And his voice calling out,

“Sir?” his shaky voice called, barely above a whisper.

“Hamilton,” Washington breathed, so relieved, “Oh, my dear boy,”

Hamilton’s head shifted towards the voice, eyes now swollen and bruised beyond seeing, but still twitching towards the familiar vernacular.

“Listen, Hamilton, it’s going to be okay, it’s going to be alright,”

Washington’s struggling took on a new wave of life, the burns and blood on his wrists long forgotten.

Hamilton was still holding on, and Washington was going to get them out of there.

“I’m never going to let them hurt you again.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #hamilton musical #alexander hamilton #george washington #washingdad #writing #hamilton fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #story prompts #febuwhumpday1