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walkawaytall · 17 days

Text

really long wip wednesday excerpt because i can

She leaned toward him slightly, tapping her fingertip on his arm. “Did you use part of the reward?”

Han looked at her quizzically, then scoffed, amused by something. He shook his head. “No. I—” He shook his head again. “Rieekan really does keep promises, huh?”

Leia arched a brow. “What does Carlist have to do with any of this?”

“He—I asked him not to tell ya, and it sounds like he didn’t. I returned the reward awhile back.”

She stared in disbelief. “What? When? Why?”

Han looked at her, though it seemed to pain him to do so. “Nearly two years ago, I guess. Never felt right takin’ that money for your rescue.”

“The money you demanded?” she teased.

Han didn’t laugh. “Yeah. That. Didn’t feel like I’d earned it, really, and tradin’ a being for credits…” He shook his head and looked her in the eye. “There ain’t a number high enough that wouldn’t make that transaction insulting to you, Leia.” He paused for a fraction of a second before clearing his throat. “Or any being, really. We’re not property.”

She squinted at him thoughtfully. “You were paid for the work, Han. Not for me.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. End result’s the same. The only reason I helped get you out in the first place was because the kid said I could probably get more money for a rescue mission. Tried to convince myself that I woulda demanded money for the job regardless for months, but when you went and got yourself hypothermic our first trip here…had a lotta time to think while we were waiting to see if you’d warm up, and I kept thinkin’ how the job felt different, how I wanted you alive because I wanted you alive, not because I was afraid I wouldn’t get paid. Didn’t think about the pay at all. And every time I thought of the reward after that…It started to feel like blood money. I couldn’t keep it in good conscience. So, I talked to Rieekan about givin’ it back. Figured if there was still work to do, I could just keep saving to pay off Jabba.”

Leia thought over the time since that first scouting trip on Hoth, how that was supposed to be Han’s final mission with the Alliance, how there had been no mention of leaving since, at least not to her. She scoffed softly. “Sorry my stupidity threw a wrench in your plans to leave.”

“No, you ain’t,” Han said, his tone light and bordering on affectionate.

#wip wednesday #fanfiction excerpt #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #leia organa #han solo #hanleia fanfic #title: purpose of heritage

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chamberedbeauty · 2 months

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@lamentingwclf because it's Bucky's BIRTHDAY!

A train set was the first birthday gift ever placed in Bucky Barnes's hands in 1928. The excitement was thundering from the little girl with curls far too perfect to remain on her head. Her parents didn't know much about this boy in Brooklyn, just that he had been the reason they were unable to find their daughter that cold night back in January. They had yet to meet him or his parents, but both of them thought it was adorable their daughter had become so fascinated by these two Brooklyn boys that they couldn't possibly say no when Gwen learned the date of her new friend's birth and asked if they could get her a gift for him. She wasn't sure what he liked, or any boy for that matter, but she figured adults knew what to get boys so off her nanny went to buy the "perfect" gift, along with balloons, and a cake so grand Gwen was shocked she hadn't gotten into it as their driver took her and her nanny over. It was then her family knew that just because Gwen told him he went to a "fine school" did not mean Bucky came from money. In fact, her driver and nanny were convinced she'd gotten the memory of his apartment wrong until Gwen had spotted him on the street.

The following year was one she wished she could forget. At the time, Gwen couldn't understand the times America was heading into. She'd never understand the stress of what was the beginning of the dirty thirties nor could she have predicted or understood at such a young age the catalyst it would become for Bucky's father. Bucky and the girls would...but she wouldn't- not for some time. This years perfect gift was picked by Gwen's father and he insisted on a complete set of toy soldiers, canons, and all. The gift had even been wrapped in red, white, and blue- with matching balloons of course. Another over the top cake had been made and once again Gwen was off for Bucky's. This time, however, Bucky's mother had invited Gwen for dinner for Bucky's birthday and her parents decided one hour of her night would be more than fine. She was dropped off and inside she went. The same giddiness came as Bucky fumbled through the socks and worn jacket from his parents, painting from Steve, and two candies from each of his sisters. At the time, she couldn't understand what those toys did to Bucky's father and his temper. But the shift in the small room was swift and the rage was just as prompt. She didn't see it, not the full extent of it of course. Just the beginning of his temper before Winnifred quickly suggested to the children they play outside for a moment. Rebecca and June were quick to head for the door, Steve followed next to her, but Bucky stayed behind- just as the shouting grew worse. Unable to stay in the cold, Rebecca offered to walk Steve home, June tagged along while Gwen sat on the front apartment stairs and cried- scared of the rage she'd seen and even more pitiful, scared she'd gotten Bucky a bad gift. She wasn't sure how much longer it was before Bucky came outside, and at the time Gwen didn't know Bucky's arms were swollen and beginning to bruise. She didn't know what occurred inside, or that Bucky was hurt and scared himself. But he took her childish worries away. He wiped her tears and told her that he thought the gift was "neat".

The following years Gwen learned even more what Bucky's interests were, that her elebaroate bakery cakes were only forced down to please her- when the reality was he wasn't much a sweets type of person. He liked bagels, the bagels from the bakery down by the docks- a luxury he and his family couldn't afford during The Depression. Cake became bagels. She also learned he wasn't impressed by the overload of gifts, something made apparently clear on his 14th birthday when she'd arrived with six gifts that likely costs more than everything in his entire room. She'd stormed off of course, but the next year the gifts became less exquisite. A new baseball cap one year, trading cards the next, books, records, Dodger tickets (in a far less exciting location that she would have liked) all followed with a dozen of his favorite bagels.

His eighteenth birthday was spent at Coney Island where he spent most of the day wrapping Margaret Fanbrink in his arms and obnoxiously smearing her cheap red lips with his. He insisted it was so they could keep warm, when they'd had a milder winter that year and spring had come early. It was sunny and 55 degrees Steve had pointed out. It was there Gwen challenged Bucky that if she knocked all of the stacked glasses with her throw that he would not enlist in the army. She liked to think that it was because she sent all the bottles to the floor that Bucky was free from the war for two years, when in reality, she knew that probably had very little to do with it.

March 10, 1945.

It had been just short of two months that Bucky fell of the train in the Swiss Alps. It had been 43 days since they put an empty casket in the ground. 43 days since a single white post had been placed above ground to read Bucky's name...a small snippet of the life he had and life he'd never get to continue. The weather had been brutal. Blustering cold winds and snow fell on the city as if it knew such a beautiful light was gone, yet it never stopped Gwen from arriving to his grave, and on this day with a dozen bagels in a box. A small empty sound is made when she finds how much snow was covering his grave and quickly she goes to it, falling to her knees as gloves swiftly begin to brush off the wet powder. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll get you cleaned up....it's okay...it'll be okay." Her fingers work vigorously, gloves taken off so she can use her nails to work at the engraved letters, picking out every single bit of snow and dirt. There's no telling how much time has passed when she's finally completed it to perfection, but there's no longer any feeling in her fingers but a sharp burn, her body shakes from the cold- but she doesn't care. How could she possibly care. "I-I'm sorry. T-These probably got a little cold, but w-we could heat them on the stove if you'd like." Carefully the box is placed closer to his headstone, fingers soon coming to trace over it as she softly begins to sing "happy birthday" to him. "Happy birthday darling. Your present is at my apartment. Y-You have to come get it.. I kno-ow how busy y-you must be...b-but you must come get it....you mu-ust come see me....p-please....i-it's beautiful. I-I found dark green paper to wrap it in....i-it's perfect. You m-ust come see it....y-ou have to. You don't have to s-stay long. F-five minutes....j-just five minutes."

The pleading continues until tears freeze to her cheeks and sobs begin to wrack her body so violently she can hardly breathe. The wailing begins as she begs for him to come back. How sorry she is. How she will make things right. How badly she needs him. Arms stay wrapped around the headstone as her body burns from the cold, though a numbness seeps in and she embraces it. Maybe she could go to him. He was always so stubborn. But it's interrupted just as she begins to feel herself grow too tired to keep her eyes open. A couple visiting their son's final resting space. They run to her, shaking her body, as the wife frantically runs to the car to grab a blanket while the husband takes ahold of her body to begin to unwrap her from the stone. "I can't leave him....I d-on't want to leave him..." There's no recollection getting to the hospital. Just to wake up wrapped in fleece the next morning. A radio is playing quietly while her mother and father talk far too loudly outside of her room. Her body hurts, she feels far too ill, and yet with a pounding headache she can still hear the announcer frantically shout out. "It is confirmed Captain America put a bomber plane headed for New York City in the Atlantic." She can hear shrieks and gasps coming from outside her room, but she makes no sound. Silent tears fall as she closes her eyes to pretend she had never awaken.

____________

March 10, 2024

It had been nine days since she'd been allowed to leave the hospital. Nine days since she first got to see the changes of the 21st century. To say it was hell was an understatement. Nothing made sense anymore, and quite frankly, she didn't want to make sense of it. Her days were spent wrapped up in blankets- oddly patterned and colorful blankets that she would quite appreciate if her life wasn't completely upside down.

Bucky hadn't left her side, though their conversations were brief. There was too much to say with no where to start. He'd answer any questions about his vast new apartment she had, or wrap her up in more blankets when the chill in her bones from the ice was too much to bear He made sure she ate and was cared for...but it was different. This was all just too damn different.

Apparently there had been a meeting scheduled today. Bucky was adamant about not going when Sam Wilson showed up at his door, and for a moment Gwen was afraid Bucky was going to punch Sam- though Sam seemed completely unphased by Bucky's disagreement of the matter. It wasn't until Gwen finally told Bucky he should go that he went...reluctantly. Instructions were given. Don't open the door for anyone but he or Sam, don't go outside, don't touch the stove. To which she agreed to, but when they had left Gwen couldn't help herself. Sam had showed her how to work the computer, or so he called it. It took a long time but carefully the woman followed the instructions he wrote down and typed in Amato's Bakery Brooklyn, New York. A small gasp is given as it pulls up. It looked- different. But it was the same building. Same location. A few deep breaths are given until Gwen stands, shrugging on a coat Bucky had bought her and rummaged around until she found two dimes sitting in one of the kitchen drawers. And with another breath Gwen leaves the apartment.

How she got there is nothing but an adrenaline, terror filled blur. It was too loud. Too bright. And she didn't understand any of it. Every time she crossed the street a horn was honked or someone cussed at her. People had these squares up, Sam had said they were cell phones? and pointed them in her direction. Her head stayed ducked until finally she gets to the bakery.

Shakey fingers point at a bagel, the normal looking bagel not the ones with god knows what on them. In a whisper Gwen asks for a dozen, clutching the two dimes, that are instantly dropped when she hears the price. Twenty two dollars and thirty seven cents. Heat rushes to her cheeks as tears fill her eyes, but somehow she asks how much one costs. Two dollars and fifteen cents.

Tears are quick to slip down her cheeks. "Sorry," she whispers. "Sorry I'm sorry." The man behind her laughs and the first mockery is given. The lady behind the counter is unamused and she's just about to run out of the bakery until, what she assumes is the owner comes out and stops her. There's a kindness in his eyes that brings more tears and he's quick to hand her a box of bagels with a gentle pat to her hand. 'You are going to be alright, miss.'

She'd heard whispers that her story had made the news- or something like that. Bucky refused to answer any of those questions and Sam told her not to worry. But clearly something was out because the word "Nazi" was shouted more than a few times on her way home.

She retreats back to her corner of the sofa, blankets wrapped tightly around her, just moments before Bucky arrives back at the apartment. Quickly Gwen wipes at her eyes, but it does nothing to stop her tears. "H-Happy Birthday...."

#lamentingwclf

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cet9955 · 21 days

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YOU CALLED, I ANSWERED

ANON HERE TO PESTER YOU

HERE'S THE FIRST 33 PAGES OF THE LYRICS TO HAMILTON

ACT 1

Alexander Hamilton BURR How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence, impoverished, in squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar? LAURENS The ten-dollar founding father without a father got a lot farther by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter, by being a self-starter, by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter. JEFFERSON And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up. Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of, the brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow or barter. MADISON Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned, our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain, put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain, and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain. BURR Well, the word got around, they said, “This kid is insane, man” took up a collection just to send him to the mainland. “Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came, and the world is gonna know your name. What’s your name, man?” HAMILTON Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait… 2 ELIZA When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden, two years later, see Alex and his mother bed-ridden, half-dead sittin in their own sick, the scent thick, COMPANY And Alex got better but his mother went quick. WASHINGTON Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide. Left him with nothin’ but ruined pride, something new inside, a voice saying, WASHINGTON “You gotta fend for yourself.” COMPANY “Alex, you gotta fend for yourself.” WASHINGTON he started retreatin’ and readin’ every treatise on the shelf. BURR There would have been nothin’ left to do for someone less astute, he woulda been dead or destitute without a cent of restitution, started workin’, clerkin’ for his late mother’s landlord, tradin’ sugar cane and rum and all the things he can’t afford scammin’ for every book he can get his hands on, plannin’ for the future see him now as he stands on the bow of a ship headed for a new land, In New York you can be a new man. COMPANY Scammin’ Plannin’ Oooh… COMPANY In New York you can be a new man— In New York you can be a new man— HAMILTON Just you wait! Just you wait! COMPANY In New York you can be a new man— WOMEN In New York— 3 MEN New York— HAMILTON Just you wait! COMPANY Alexander Hamilton We are waiting in the wings for you You could never back down, you never learned to take your time! Oh, Alexander Hamilton When America sings for you Will they know what you overcame? Will they know you rewrote the game? The world will never be the same, oh. COMPANY Alexander Hamilton Waiting in the wings for you You never learned to take your time! Oh, Alexander Hamilton Alexander Hamilton… America sings for you Will they know what you overcame? Will they know you rewrote the game? The world will never be the same, oh. BURR The ship is in the harbor now, see if you can spot him. Another immigrant, comin’ up from the bottom. His enemies destroyed his rep, America forgot him MEN Just you wait COMPANY Just you wait MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE We fought with him. LAURENS Me? I died for him. WASHINGTON Me? I trusted him. ELIZA/ANGELICA/MARIA Me? I loved him. 4 BURR And me? I’m the damn fool that shot him. COMPANY There’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait! BURR What’s your name, man? COMPANY Alexander Hamilton! 5

Aaron Burr, Sir COMPANY

New York City. HAMILTON Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir? BURR That depends. Who’s asking? HAMILTON Oh, well, sure, sir, I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’m at your service, sir. I have been looking for you. BURR I’m getting nervous. HAMILTON Sir… I heard your name at Princeton. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punched him. It’s a blur, sir. He handles the financials? BURR You punched the bursar. HAMILTON Yes! I wanted to do what you did. Graduate in two, then join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid, I’m not stupid. So how’d you do it? How’d you graduate so fast? BURR It was my parents’ dying wish before they passed. HAMILTON You’re an orphan. Of course! I’m an orphan. God, I wish there was a war! Then we could prove that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for… BURR 6 Can I buy you a drink? HAMILTON That would be nice. BURR While we’re talking, let me offer you some free advice. Talk less. HAMILTON What? BURR Smile more. HAMILTON Ha. BURR Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for. HAMILTON You can’t be serious. BURR You wanna get ahead? HAMILTON Yes. BURR Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead. LAURENS Yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it? LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN Show time! BURR …like I said… LAURENS 7 Show time! Show time! Yo! I’m John Laurens in the place to be! Two pints o’ Sam Adams, but I’m workin’ on three, uh! Those redcoats don’t want it with me! Cuz I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I’m free! LAFAYETTE Oui oui, mon ami, je m’appelle Lafayette! The Lancelot of the revolutionary set! I came from afar just to say “Bonsoir!” Tell the King “Casse toi!” Who’s the best? C’est moi! MULLIGAN Brrrah brraaah! I am Hercules Mulligan, Up in it, lovin’ it, yes I heard ya mother said “Come again?” Lock up ya daughters and horses, of course it’s hard to have intercourse over four sets of corsets… LAURENS No more sex, pour me another brew, son! Let’s raise a couple more… LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN To the revolution! LAURENS Well, if it ain’t the prodigy of Princeton college! MULLIGAN Aaron Burr! LAURENS Give us a verse, drop some knowledge! BURR Good luck with that: you’re takin’ a stand. You spit. I’m ‘a sit. We’ll see where we land. LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN Boooo! LAURENS Burr, the revolution’s imminent. What do you stall for? HAMILTON If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for? 8

you're welcome :3

WAIT tumblr won't send it :(

this will be sent in multiple parts (i am DEDICATED)

What's funny is I actually read all that

And I plan to do this for the other 5 parts

It's a ridiculous amount of scrolling though

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birdinabowl · 27 days

Note

YIPPIE IM SO HAPPY thanks for the cookies

Here

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten

spot in the Caribbean by Providence impoverished in squalor

grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

The Ten dollar, founding father without a father

got a lot farther by working a lot harder

by being a lot smarter by being a self-starter

by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter

And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away

across the waves he struggled and kept his guard up

Inside he was longing for something to be a part of

the brother was ready to beg steal borrow or barter

Then a hurricane came and devastation rained

our man saw his future drip-dripping down the drain

put a pencil to his temple connected it to his brain

and he wrote his first refrain a testament to his pain

Well the word got around they said this kid is insane man

took up a collection just to send him to the mainland

Get your education don't forget from whence you came. And the world is gonna know your name.

What's ya name, man?

Alexander Hamilton.

My name is Alexander Hamilton.

And there's a million things I haven't done.

But just you wait, just you, wait.

When he was 10, his father split

Full of it, debt-ridden

Two years later, see Alex and his mother, bed-ridden

Half-dead, sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick

And Alex got better but his mother went quick

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide

Left him with nothin' but ruined pride

Somethin' new inside

A voice saying Alex, you gotta fend for yourself

He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf

There would've been nothin' left to do

For someone less astute

He would've been dead and destitute

Without a cent of restitution

Started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord

Tradin' sugar cane and rum and other things he can't afford

Scannin' for every book he can get his hands on

Plannin' for the future, see him now as he stands on

The bow of a ship headed for a new land

In New York you can be a new man (x4) In New York (New York) Just you wait (x3)

Alexander Hamilton

We are waiting in the weeds for you

You could never back down

You never learned to take your time

Alexander Hamilton

America Sings for you

Do they know what you overcame

Do they know you control your name

The world will never be the same, oh

The ship is in the harbor now

See if you can spot him

Another immigrant comin' up from the bottom

His enemies destroyed his rep, America forgot him

We, fought with him

Me, I died for him

Me, I trusted him

Me, I loved him

And me, I'm the damn fool that shot him

There's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait

Whats ya name man?

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

🗣️🗣️ ALEXANDER HAMILTON

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gvftea · 1 month

Note

OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT JOSH

BURR

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore

and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a

forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence,

impoverished, in squalor,

grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

LAURENS

The ten-dollar founding father without a father

got a lot farther by working a lot harder,

by being a lot smarter,

by being a self-starter,

by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a

trading charter.

JEFFERSON

And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted

away across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up.

Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of,

the brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow or barter.

MADISON

Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned,

our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain,

put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain,

and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain.

BURR

Well, the word got around, they said, “This kid is insane, man”

took up a collection just to send him to the mainland.

“Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came, and

the world is gonna know your name. What’s your name, man?”

HAMILTON

Alexander Hamilton.

My name is Alexander Hamilton.

And there’s a million things I haven’t done,

but just you wait, just you wait...

ELIZA

When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden,

two years later, see Alex and his mother bed-ridden,

half-dead sittin in their own sick, the scent thick,

COMPANY

And Alex got better but his mother went quick.

WASHINGTON

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide.

Left him with nothin’ but ruined pride, something new inside,

a voice saying,

WASHINGTON

“You gotta fend for yourself.”

COMPANY

“Alex, you gotta fend for yourself.”

WASHINGTON

he started retreatin’ and readin’ every treatise on the shelf.

BURR

There would have been nothin’ left to do

for someone less astute,

he woulda been dead or destitute

without a cent of restitution,

started workin’, clerkin’ for his late mother’s

landlord,

tradin’ sugar cane and rum and all the things he

can’t afford

scammin’ for every book he can get his hands on,

plannin’ for the future see him now as he stands on

the bow of a ship headed for a new land,

In New York you can be a new man.

COMPANY

Scammin’

Plannin’

Oooh...

COMPANY

In New York you can

be a new man—

In New York you can

be a new man—

HAMILTON

Just you wait!

COMPANY

In New York you can be a new man—

WOMEN

In New York—

MEN

New York—

HAMILTON

Just you wait!

COMPANY

Alexander Hamilton

We are waiting in the wings for you

You could never back down,

you never learned to take your time!

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

When America sings for you

Will they know what you overcame?

Will they know you rewrote the game?

The world will never be the same, oh.

COMPANY

Alexander Hamilton

Waiting in the wings for you

You never learned to take your time!

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton…

America sings for you

Will they know what you overcame?

Will they know you rewrote the game?

The world will never be the same, oh.

BURR

The ship is in the harbor now,

see if you can spot him.

Another immigrant,

comin’ up from the bottom.

His enemies destroyed his rep,

America forgot him

MEN

Just you wait

COMPANY

Just you wait

MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE

We fought with him.

LAURENS

Me? I died for him.

WASHINGTON

Me? I trusted him.

ELIZA/ANGELICA/MARIA

Me? I loved him.

BURR

And me? I’m the damn fool that shot him.

COMPANY

There’s a million things I haven’t done,

but just you wait!

BURR

What’s your name, man?

COMPANY

Alexander Hamilton!

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh gvf #sam gvf #jake gvf #josh kiszka #danny wagner #danny gvf #jake kiszka #sam kiskza

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swampthing07 · 2 months

Note

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten

spot in the Caribbean by Providence impoverished in squalor

grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

The Ten dollar, founding father without a father

got a lot farther by working a lot harder

by being a lot smarter by being a self-starter

by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter

And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away

across the waves he struggled and kept his guard up

Inside he was longing for something to be a part of

the brother was ready to beg steal borrow or barter

Then a hurricane came and devastation rained

our man saw his future drip-dripping down the drain

put a pencil to his temple connected it to his brain

and he wrote his first refrain a testament to his pain

Well the word got around they said this kid is insane man

took up a collection just to send him to the mainland

Get your education don't forget from whence you came. And the world is gonna know your name.

What's ya name, man?

Alexander Hamilton.

My name is Alexander Hamilton.

And there's a million things I haven't done.

But just you wait, just you, wait.

When he was 10, his father split

Full of it, debt-ridden

Two years later, see Alex and his mother, bed-ridden

Half-dead, sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick

And Alex got better but his mother went quick

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide

Left him with nothin' but ruined pride

Somethin' new inside

A voice saying Alex, you gotta fend for yourself

He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf

There would've been nothin' left to do

For someone less astute

He would've been dead and destitute

Without a cent of restitution

Started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord

Tradin' sugar cane and rum and other things he can't afford

Scannin' for every book he can get his hands on

Plannin' for the future, see him now as he stands on

The bow of a ship headed for a new land

In New York you can be a new man

In New York (New York) Just you wait

Alexander Hamilton

We are waiting in the weeds for you

You could never back down

You never learned to take your time

Alexander Hamilton

America Sings for you

Do they know what you overcame

Do they know you control your name

The world will never be the same, oh

The ship is in the harbor now

See if you can spot him

Another immigrant comin' up from the bottom

His enemies destroyed his rep, America forgot him

We, fought with him

Me, I died for him

Me, I trusted him

Me, I loved him

And me, I'm the damn fool that shot him

There's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait

Whats your name, man?

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

Guy who made the bank of the united states

#capgras boyfriend!

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calciummuffin · 8 months

Text

OC's (for fun, also cowboys)

This is long as hell, sorry! :) (ft. my cowboy OC's)

Sean sat amongst the damp forest surrounding them, his rangy, thin hands fumbling with the harmonica. The instrument was worn down, but it still gave him a thrill to hold it in his hands. He watched as Carl, his older companion with strong blue eyes, warmed a pot of water. The forest around them lay frozen, as if time had stopped to allow them a moment of peace. The boy’s eyes twinkled as he lifted the instrument to his chapped lips. A split second was all it took for the harmonica to emit a harsh, unmelodic sound. Carl"s eyes darted to the boy’s gaze, watching as he grinned at him before he blew again. Carl held up his hand, signalling for Sean to stop. He knew that the sound of the harmonica would scare away any game in the area. Sean sighed, dropping the instrument onto the wet soil. His eyes followed Carl’s gaze as the older man scanned the trees surrounding them. Shaking his head, Carl sighed before dropping back onto his knees beside the pot of water. He took in a deep breath, watching as steam rose from the liquid. "What’re we doin’ out here, Carl?" Sean asked, a faint smile still plastered on his pallid face. "Them deer we're lookin" for ain't deserve to get shot." "We gotta eat, Sean," Carl replied, stirring the pot. "Us and the whole ranch." "We have cattle, pigs, and chickens," Sean protested. "All of them other animals. Why can’t we just eat them?" "Livestock ain't meant for food," Carl corrected. "What’re we tradin’ ‘em off for?" Sean asked, his voice rising. "To get eaten later? Why don’t we just eat them instead?" Carl sighed, taking a deep breath. He didn"t turn to look at Sean. Instead, he continued to stare at the pot of water. "Neither of us wants to kill those deer, Sean. But it"s just something that"s gotta be done." Carl took another breath, watching as his breath fogged the air in front of him. Carl's heavy hand clasps the pot's handle as he sets it carefully on the ground. The older man strides across the camp towards Sean, the young boy perched on a log, staring into the flames. "Sometimes family is more important than morality," Carl says, his voice heavy with resignation, "We all have to...do bad things for the people around us someday," he continues. Sean, his shoulder-length hair swinging as he shakes his head, speaks up, "I don't want to kill them. They’re just trying to go home to their families," he says, his voice trembling with emotion. "Just like we have to go back to ours," Carl sighs, placing a reassuring hand on Sean"s shoulder. The younger boy flinches, unable to meet the older man’s gaze. "Sorry," Carl mutters, "I forgot about your...your thing." Sean fixes his gaze on the fire, his eyes tracking the rising smoke as he tries to shake off the feelings of sadness and anger that have been building within him. He speaks up, his voice trembling, "Those men ain't my family," he says stubbornly, his words laced with resentment. "Yes, they are," Carl states firmly, his hand reaching up to run through Sean’s oily hair. The older man gives the younger boy a gentle shake, as if to shake off the feeling of uncertainty and self-doubt that has been weighing on him. "We’re all family. We’re all stuck in this thing together," Carl says, his tone firm but kind. Sean doesn"t respond, his eyes still fixed on the fire. After a few moments, he finally speaks up, his voice softer and more resigned this time. "I know. I just...I don"t know if I can do it," he says, his words barely above a whisper. Carl gives Sean’s shoulder a reassuring pat before rising to his feet. The older man strides back to the pot, his movements determined as he returns to his duties. Sean watches him go, his eyes narrowing as he contemplates the weight of the responsibility that has been placed on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and leans back, staring into the flames once more.

Carl and Sean sat by the fire, the older man slurping a steaming cup of coffee as he stared into the flames. He sighed, his lips curling into a small smile as he spoke. "Y’know, my pa, he hated hunting," he said. "Would whine and whine when my ma asked him to hunt somethin’." Sean, lost in his own thoughts, responded without looking up "Why?" "Said that them animals had souls, they were God"s children in his eyes," Carl explained. "The man believed that every animal on this Earth had a special somethin" to "em beyond just sustainin’ humans." Sean stared into the fire, his head cocked to the side. "Mr. Fisher ain't your pa, is he?" "Nah," Carl responded, his voice deep and rough, "that old man caught me stealin’ from "im when I was about fifteen." "He didn’t get you in trouble with the law?" Sean asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Think he planned to, but he saw somethin’ in me somewhere." Carl took a sip of his coffee, his eyes scanning the campsite. "So, you didn’t know the Fisher"s at all?" Sean asked the older man. Carl smiled warmly. "No," he answered. "Came from Vermont." "You're from the North," Sean stated, furrowing his brow as he took a sip of his coffee. "Northeast," Carl corrected Sean with a chuckle. "My folks were poor as all hell, but sometimes money don"t mean all that much, y'know?" Sean shrugged, his eyes fixed on the fire. He sighed heavily. "My parents owned a farm. Small one." "The hell were ya growin’ in Wyoming?" Carl asked as he tore open a pack of coffee and poured it into a cup, handing it to Sean. "Wheat, corn…anythin’ that'd survive up there,” Sean responded bitterly. Carl laughed, a hearty laugh that seemed to echo through the campsite. "We oughta make a supply run into town soon. "Bout a day's ride South." Sean, his skinny frame huddled against the cool night air, nodded absently. "We outta meat?" "Almost," Carl confirmed, his eyes scanning the campsite. "We got some venison and maybe a little offal, but that's 'bout it." Sean grimaced at the thought of eating offal, the organs and fatty tissues from an animal"s body. "You eatin' that offal? I ain't." Carl laughed, his deep voice rumbling with amusement. "All yours, Sean."

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mlplovelight · 1 year

Text

Ch. 1 - Scrap Meet

“How are you feeling, APPLEJACK?”

Sweetcream Scoops’ question yanks you outta the intense daydreaming you’d just been involved in, but you try to play it cool and act like you’ve been present the whole time.

“I’m pumped, of course!” you say with a bright smile, trotting over a grassy hill with the warm spring sun shining down on you. “I mean why wouldn’t I be? Y’all know how much I love a good scrap meet!”

“I guess,” Berryshine comes up from behind you and playfully taps you on the shoulder, “though I don’t see why you had to leave your shop to trade scrap.”

“Leavin’ the shop is part of the whole point!” you exclaim excitedly, your eyes glittering with the bright promise of opportunity. “It’s not just about tradin’ scrap, it’s also about tradin’ STORIES! And that’s the part I’m REAL excited about.”

“I like your enthusiasm, Applejack,” Sweetcream pushes up her glasses and smiles tenderly at you, “but don’t get your hopes up too high, okay? If any random pony could tell you what happened to the rest of the Apple clan, it wouldn’t still be a mystery, right?”

“True,” you sigh, and while you’re tempted to hang your head in morbid contemplation, you decide to hold yourself up high instead. “Still, you never know when destiny’s gonna come a-knockin’, and I aim to be prepared for it whenever it happens!

“Besides,” you let out a self-amused chuckle, “we got a whole list of resources we’re meant to bring home to our camp. I gotta make sure everything gets checked off!”

“Fair enough,” Sweetcream chuckles. “Heavens know you can’t leave the two of us with a task that important.”

“I’ve already forgotten everything on the list,” Berryshine chimes in, sounding oddly proud of herself.

“Is what I figured,” you scoff, but it’s hard not to laugh at how absurdly lazy your friends are. “SOMEONE’S gotta be the responsible one!”

“I agree,” Berryshine hums, a smug grin on her face. “It’s only BECAUSE you’re so responsible that me and Sweetcream are able to slack off! Why exert ourselves when we know ever-responsible Applejack is there to take care of everything?”

“I GUESS that’s a way to look at things,” you roll your eyes playfully, honestly more amused than anything by Berryshine’s shamelessness.

“Oh please,” Sweetcream chuckles, “I could work all day every day seven days a week and I still wouldn’t be able to manage half of what you accomplish in a given day, Applejack. You’re an honest to god miracle worker, you are.”

“And heavens bless you for it,” Berryshine adds, “you let the rest of us be lazy.”

“Well, hopefully all that work’ll pay off today,” you exhale sharply and break out into a gallop down the hill, as the grounds for the scrap meet appears on the horizon, “with some juicy gossip!”

The scrap meet is a little pop-up venue nestled into the fringes of the Whitetail Woods, with the forest's majestic trees standing around it on most sides as if watching over it like a dutiful guardian. It isn’t just a place to trade scrap for other resources or learn juicy gossip, it’s also a cultural hub for earth ponies all across New Equestria to get together and share stories and to celebrate Old Equestria.

There are ruins and junkyards all over the land from a bygone era that represent the world of Old Equestria; nopony really knows what happened to make ‘em all become ruins, or what happened to the winged or horned ponies sometimes referred to in old art and writing, but the magic flowing through the scrap that comes from Old Equestria is palpable, and REALLY valuable if you know how to use it.

Not everypony does know how to use it though, and not everypony who DOES know how is necessarily fit to collect it. Old Equestria ruins are rife with monsters, ghosts, and violent ponies willing to fight for valuable scrap. Collectin’ the stuff is a rough job, which is what makes rough ponies like you in such high demand these days!

And there ain’t nopony better at finding, collecting, or tinkering with scrap than you are, so hopefully the collection you’ve brought today will help you get some of that juicy gossip you’re so desperate for…

“Alright, I’m gonna take off,” Sweetcream Scoops clears her throat as the three of you cross over the threshold into the scrap meet, the sounds of the bustling community surrounding you like a cozy blanket. “I trust you can get everything checked off your little list without me, Applejack?”

“Should be okay,” you take the list off your saddlebag and give it a once-over, as if you haven’t perfectly memorized the whole thing already. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Schmooze,” Sweetcream chuckles, “duh. Ponies come from all over for these things, Applejack. So many exotic women to meet, so little time.”

“Fair enough,” you roll your eyes. Even as a through and through lesbian yourself, you don’t get Sweetcream’s obsession with finding girls to make out with. “You gonna be okay on your own? You got enough scrap?”

“Applejack, please,” Sweetcream smugly tilts her head back and scoffs. “I may not be on your level, but I’m no slouch when it comes to collecting scrap. I’m more than prepared for today.”

“Alright, I getcha,” you chuckle, impressed by Sweetcream’s self-assuredness. “Just be careful. That was for my sake, you know I worry.”

“I know,” Sweetcream nods, “and I’ll be safe. We’ll meet back here at sunset, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say with an affirmative nod. “What about you, Berryshine? What’re you up to?”

“Hm?” Berryshine, lost in her own world as always, slowly turns to pay attention to you, pulling back the mess of hair covering her eyes like a curtain. “Oh, I’ll stick with you for now, Applejack. I’m mostly here for the cider though, so if I see something that catches my eye, I’m gonna go for it. But I’ll remember the meeting place, don’t worry.”

“Sounds good,” you say with another nod. “Now all we gotta do is—“

Your voice is cut off and drowned out by a piercing scream, and your ears flick up instinctively as you turn your head in the direction it came from.

“What was—Applejack!” Sweetcream shouts as you break out into a run toward the scream. “What are you doing!?”

“Someone might be in trouble!” that’s all you have to say for yourself; that’s all that NEEDS to be said. Scrap and gossip be damned, if ever there’s someone that needs your help, you’ll be there to give it no questions asked.

“Gah, you’re so annoying!” Sweetcream groans as she catches up to you. “Why can’t you ever leave well enough alone?!”

Notably, Berryshine is less eager to gallop into danger alongside you and must’ve stayed behind after you ran off. You’ve wandered toward the very tippy edge of the forest now, with a crowd of ponies hesitantly gathered around two ponies standing under the trees, one clumsily backing up and away from the forest, the other shrouded by its shade.

“Give it back,” the shrouded pony growls, her violet eyes burning through the darkness.

“I-I-I d-don’t know what you—“ the cowering pony says, before a spark of magic from the shrouded pony cuts her off, bright green light flashing before everypony’s eyes.

But the light is quickly dispelled by an axe slashing through it, the weapon carried by its very own creator into battle to defend this cowering pony (it’s you, you’re the creator of this nifty little magic-cutting weapon).

“I dunno what’s goin’ on here,” you say as you stand protectively in front of the cowering pony, “but I’m sure we can all work this out if we just—“

“Give it BACK!” the shrouded pony roars, another flash of magic erupting from the trees surrounding her.

The light from her magic illuminates her for just long enough for you to get a good look at her features. Even with her face contorted by rage, she’s a looker; with a cool purple coat and a deep purple mane cut into straight, orderly bangs, her mane streaked with vibrant pink stripes.

You aren’t sure what’s goin’ on, but you can hazard a guess; the cowering pony took some scrap that this pony had her eye on, or maybe already had in her hooves.

You’d like to settle this matter peacefully, but disputes over scrap rarely end without blood spilled. And even if the cowering pony is in the wrong, you don’t want to see anyone be hurt.

So if this purple pony is eager to bring violence to the scrap meet, you’ll just have to meet her in kind.

#lovelight #story posting #mlp #g4 #fim #fanfic #applejack #twilight sparkle #sweetcream scoops #berryshine

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ohyangchon · 1 year

Text

We smoked at the roof of Joe’s shop, the large wooden cabin dotted with coffee plants looming over the otherwise-rarely used dirt path that stretched towards more zombies, more unknown territory.

“Didn’t strike ya as the type to be tough as nails,” admitted Joe, though there was a twinge of fatigue in his tone that he hadn’t bothered hiding, “How long has it been since ya moved behind my place, anyway? I remembered havin’ ta bail ya out a couple times and then it turned out we were neighbors the entire time.”

“Lost count,” I replied, more to be polite than anything, “Time moves slow when you’re basically dead.”

There was a glimmer of sympathy in Joe’s eyes beneath the shades, but he returned to staring out into the distance. “Yer cabin’s not too shabby. Remembered ya exchanged a couple o’ things to get that girl all patched up. I’d like ta think that we’re pretty lucky. Hardly no Blood Moons causin’ us problems with the business. You do the runnin’, I do the tradin’. It’s pretty good ta finally have someone in the wasteland that I can see comin’ back consistently.”

“I was just stumbling in the dark,” I tapped the cigar in my hand a few times, allowing the ash to scatter in the wind, “They don’t teach you this shit in community college. Trial and error, really. Like the time I was scouting you that trade route and got myself mauled by a fucking zombie bear.”

“Hah!” Joe let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head, “Remembered how we had to pull ya outta that place after. Ya borrowed one o’ my 4x4s and still couldn’t get close enough ta that bear. ‘ventually I had ta talk ya down from gettin’ all ya trash back. ‘m still surprised ya paid everything ya borrowed off so fast.”

I crossed one leg over the other, sighing as the sun set before us. There was always a constant fog that set in at night, where I sat in the cabin alone to contemplate life. “Least I could do when you started me off. It was nice to have somewhere convenient in the wasteland to check back in,” I replied, eying Joe again, “And someone to come back to always felt like a perk.”

“Glib, aren’t ya?” Joe blew a cloud of smoke towards me, teasing as always, “Ya do good business, kid. I didn’t hold out much hope fo’ ya. Ya acted lots like the upstarts that end up gettin’ killed by mobs cuz they bit off more than they could chew. I thought ya’d end up one o’ the dead within the first month.”

I scratched my head, shrugging at this. “I’m pretty lucky. I have a really good partner who’d rather die than see his trade route go up in flames,” I teased back, tossing him a wink, “Makes going back to the cabin all the more worthwhile.”

Joe reached over, lifting my chin with his hand. Despite the deep callouses from the heavy firearms he carried to fend off the hordes, he was surprisingly gentle around me. “I like ya, friend,” he scoffed, though I swore a grin peeking through his beard at this, “It gets real lonely out by myself here. Folks think it’s all just tradin’ and sellin’ in these parts, but they don’t know the struggle it was ta set it up that way. Ya get it. That’s why I value ya.”

Snubbing out the cigar, I rested my arms on Joe’s shoulders, staring back at him. “You...wanna come by the cabin after you close up shop?” I asked now, jerking my head towards the gaudy red cabin I’d painted myself, “I promise I’ll stop stepping on my own spike traps. It’s only a short walk away, and I’ve got Shepherd’s pie on the grill tonight.”

“I don’t know what kind o’ miracle you keep pullin’ with the food ya scavenge, but I can’t pass up Shepherd’s pie,” Joe leant in to whisper in my ear - his beard tickled, and I swatted him away, “Just lemme give the other boys their jobs fo’ the night, and I’ll roll up ta ya place lickety-spit. Wait for me?”

“Mmm,” I hummed back, releasing my grip on him to gesture back downstairs, “See you tonight, then.”

“Seeya tonight, traveller,” Joe relaxed now, snubbing his own cigar out, “We could discuss that little errand ya goin’ fo’ tomorrow.”

#tadprompts #been playing a lot of 7 Days to Die and I think my survivor is gay for the shady merchant #survivor has no gender!#kind of a crackship but that's my bread and butter

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itsthemysterykids · 2 years

Note

Norman Babcock. My name is Norman Babcock. And there's a million things I haven't done. Just you wait. Just you wait.

Coraline: How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a

Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten

Spot in the Caribbean by providence, impoverished, in squalor

Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

Wybie: The ten-dollar Founding Father without a father

Got a lot farther by working a lot harder

By being a lot smarter

By being a self-starter

By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter

Raz: And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted

Away across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up

Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of

The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter

Kubo: Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned

Our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain

Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain

And he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain

Coraline: Well, the word got around, they said, “This kid is insane, man”

Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland

“Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came, and

The world's gonna know your name. What’s your name, man?”

Norman: Norman Babcock

My name is Norman Babcock

And there's a million things I haven't done

But just you wait, just you wait...

Dipper: When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden

Two years later, see Norman and his mother bed-ridden

Half-dead sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick

Everyone: And Norman got better but his mother went quick

Eggs/Company: Moved in with a sister, the sister committed suicide

Left him with nothin' but ruined pride, something new inside

A voice saying

“Norman, you gotta fend for yourself.”

He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf

Coraline: There would have been nothin’ left to do

For someone less astute

He woulda been dead or destitute

Without a cent of restitution

Started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord

Tradin’ sugar cane and rum and all the things he can’t afford

Scammin' for every book he can get his hands on

Plannin' for the future see him now as he stands on (ooh)

The bow of a ship headed for a new land

In New York you can be a new man

Norman/Company: In New York you can be a new man (Just you wait)

In New York you can be a new man (Just you wait)

In New York you can be a new man

In New York, New York

Just you wait!

Norman Babcock (Norman Babcock)

We are waiting in the wings for you (waiting in the wings for you)

You could never back down

You never learned to take your time!

Oh, Norman Babcock (Norman Babcock)

When America sings for you

Will they know what you overcame?

Will they know you rewrote the game?

The world will never be the same, oh

Coraline/Company: The ship is in the harbor now

See if you can spot him

Just you wait

Another immigrant

Comin’ up from the bottom

Just you wait

His enemies destroyed his rep

America forgot him

Camilo/Kubo/Neil/Raz: We fought with him

Wybie/Agatha: Me? I died for him

Eggs: Me? I trusted him

Dipper/Winnie/Pacifica: Me? I loved him

Coraline: And me? I'm the damn fool that shot him

Everyone: There's a million things I haven’t done

But just you wait!

Coraline: What's your name, man?

Everyone: Norman Babcock!

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #ask stuff #answered ask #Hamilton #musicals

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thecrimearchive · 2 years

Text

Amy Mihaljevic

Friday, October 27, 1989: 10-year-old Amy Mihaljevic, dressed in green pants and a pale green shirt with lavender trim. A friend of Amy sees a man. He wears a beige windbreaker with plaid lining, front-pressed khakis and a button-up shirt. His hair is thick and bushy above his eyes. She watches as he walks up to Amy and puts a hand on her back. He leans down to whisper something in her ear. Then the man puts an arm around Amy's shoulders and leads her away. She assumes it's Amy's dad, picking her up after school, but only because she had never met Amy's father.

Sometime that week, a man had called Amy at home, after school, when she was there alone, pretending to be a co-worker of her mother's (who recently went from part-time to full-time at the Tradin' Times newspaper). He told Amy that her mother had gotten a promotion and that she should meet him at the Bay Square plaza after school, and he would take her to a store to buy a present for her mom. The man led Amy away but she was never seen getting into a car.

Amy's body was found by a jogger, on County Road 1181, in rural Ashland County 104 days later, February 8, 1990. The autopsy report concludes - based on several factors - that Amy was most likely killed within 24 hours of her abduction. Evidence found at the scene of the crime suggests that Mihaljevic's body was probably dumped there shortly after her abduction. Based on findings by the Cuyahoga County coroner, Mihaljevic's last meal was some sort of soy substance, possibly an artificial chicken product or Chinese food. Other evidence includes the presence of yellow/gold colored fibers on her body. It appears her killer also took several souvenirs including the girl's horse-riding boots, her denim backpack, a binder and turquoise earrings in the shape of horse heads. Blood believed to be that of Mihaljevic was found in her underwear, indicating she may have been raped or sexually abused.

Ashland is about a 45-minute drive from Bay Village and the location where her body was disposed was very isolated. Investigators believe the killer was familiar with both Bay Village and Ashland County. A number of girls who resembled Amy, but who lived in North Olmsted in 1989, were also called by the man police believe is the killer. He tried a similar tactic with them - "I work with your mother, she just got a promotion, would you like to come with me to get a gift" - but they didn't fall for it. There are a couple ways these girls are connected to Amy. They all visited the Lake Erie Nature and Science Center prior to the abduction (where a number of suspects volunteered). And they had a math teacher who was the brother of Amy's horseback riding instructor.

Investigation

In late 2013, investigator Phil Torsney returned from retirement to work on the case, to which he had been originally assigned after the murder. Torsney is well known for aiding in the capture of Whitey Bulger, who was a long-time member of the FBI Top Ten Most Wanted. Torsney stated that he believed that Mihaljevic was transported out of Bay Village after she was kidnapped, as the town is "too dense, too close-knit, to be a likely place to commit murder." However, he stated that the murder likely took place in Ashland County, which the murderer was probably familiar with.

Recently, the FBI and police released new details. A strange green curtain found near her body in 1989 was most likely used to wrap Amy after her murder. On the 31st anniversary of the discovery of Mihaljevic's remains, a major development in the case was announced. A publicly unidentified man, age 64, was implicated by a former girlfriend, with whom he was involved at the time of the kidnapping and murder. She alleged that he was uncharacteristically absent from their residence, located in close proximity to the abduction site, when the victim disappeared. The man called her late that evening, inquiring if she had seen media releases about the abduction. He was employed in the same city, and his niece was in the same grade as Mihaljevic. Police interviews with the man included "suspicious statements", including the possibility he had met Amy Mihaljevic's mother, Margaret, before. His DNA was obtained without protest, and he later failed a polygraph test. A warrant to search a storage facility led to authorities confiscating certain items of interest.

Additionally, the two individuals who witnessed the yet-to-be-identified kidnapper lead the girl into his vehicle identified the potential suspect out of line-ups conducted in May 2020. The vehicle itself was consistent with what the man drove at the time, including the fact that its carpeting was similar in coloration to the fibers on Mihaljevic's body. A vehicle of the same make and model had been observed near the body's dumpsite on February 8, 1990, when the victim's body was recovered along a roadside.

#abduction #truecrime #investigation

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cjrights · 18 days

Note

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore

And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot

In the Caribbean by providence impoverished

In squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

The ten-dollar founding father without a father

Got a lot farther by working a lot harder

By being a lot smarter

By being a self-starter

By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter

And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away

Across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up

Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of

The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter

Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned

Our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain

Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain

And he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain

Well, the word got around, they said, this kid is insane, man

Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland

Get your education, don't forget from whence you came

And the world is gonna know your name

What's your name, man?

Alexander Hamilton

My name is Alexander Hamilton

And there's a million things I haven't done

But just you wait, just you wait

When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden

Two years later, see Alex and his mother bed-ridden

Half-dead sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick

And Alex got better but his mother went quick

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide

Left him with nothin' but ruined pride, something new inside

A voice saying, "Alex, you gotta fend for yourself"

He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf

There would have been nothin' left to do for someone less astute

He woulda been dead or destitute without a cent of restitution

Started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord

Tradin' sugar cane and rum and all the things he can't afford

Scammin' for every book he can get his hands on

Plannin' for the future see him now as he stands on

The bow of a ship headed for the new land

In New York you can be a new man

In New York you can be a new man (just you wait)

In New York you can be a new man

In New York, New York

Just you wait

Alexander Hamilton

We are waiting in the wings for you

Waiting in the wings for you

You could never back down

You never learned to take your time

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton

When America sings for you

Will they know what you overcame?

Will they know you rewrote your game?

The world will never be the same, oh

The ship is in the harbor now

See if you can spot him (just you wait)

Another immigrant comin' up from the bottom (just you wait)

His enemies destroyed his rep America forgot him

We, fought with him

Me, I died for him

Me, I trusted him

Me, I loved him

And me, I'm the damn fool that shot him (shot him, shot him)

There's a million things I haven't done

But just you wait

What's your name, man?

Alexander Hamilton

the way you didn’t even sign your name so i have no idea who sent this

but thank you I agree

#I love my anons #hamilton musical #this is so unserious #ask

0 notes

ninja-grace · 21 days

Note

ACT 1

Alexander Hamilton

BURR

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore

and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a

forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence,

impoverished, in squalor,

grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

LAURENS

The ten-dollar founding father without a father

got a lot farther by working a lot harder,

by being a lot smarter,

by being a self-starter,

by fourteen, they placed him in charge of a

trading charter.

JEFFERSON

And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted

away across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up.

Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of,

the brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow or barter.

MADISON

Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned,

our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain,

put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain,

and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain.

BURR

Well, the word got around, they said, “This kid is insane, man”

took up a collection just to send him to the mainland.

“Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came, and

the world is gonna know your name. What’s your name, man?”

HAMILTON

Alexander Hamilton.

My name is Alexander Hamilton.

And there’s a million things I haven’t done,

but just you wait, just you wait…

ELIZA

When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden,

two years later, see Alex and his mother bed-ridden,

half-dead sittin in their own sick, the scent thick,

COMPANY

And Alex got better but his mother went quick.

WASHINGTON

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide.

Left him with nothin’ but ruined pride, something new inside,

a voice saying,

WASHINGTON

“You gotta fend for yourself.”

COMPANY

“Alex, you gotta fend for yourself.”

WASHINGTON

he started retreatin’ and readin’ every treatise on the shelf.

BURR

There would have been nothin’ left to do

for someone less astute,

he woulda been dead or destitute

without a cent of restitution,

started workin’, clerkin’ for his late mother’s

landlord,

tradin’ sugar cane and rum and all the things he

can’t afford

scammin’ for every book he can get his hands on,

plannin’ for the future see him now as he stands on

the bow of a ship headed for a new land,

In New York you can be a new man.

COMPANY

Scammin’

Plannin’

Oooh…

COMPANY

In New York you can

be a new man—

In New York you can

be a new man—

HAMILTON

Just you wait!

COMPANY

In New York you can be a new man—

WOMEN

In New York—

MEN

New York—

HAMILTON

Just you wait!

COMPANY

Alexander Hamilton

We are waiting in the wings for you

You could never back down,

you never learned to take your time!

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

When America sings for you

Will they know what you overcame?

Will they know you rewrote the game?

The world will never be the same, oh.

COMPANY

Alexander Hamilton

Waiting in the wings for you

You never learned to take your time!

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton…

America sings for you

Will they know what you overcame?

Will they know you rewrote the game?

The world will never be the same, oh.

BURR

The ship is in the harbor now,

see if you can spot him.

Another immigrant,

comin’ up from the bottom.

His enemies destroyed his rep,

America forgot him

MEN

Just you wait

COMPANY

Just you wait

MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE

We fought with him.

LAURENS

Me? I died for him.

WASHINGTON

Me? I trusted him.

ELIZA/ANGELICA/MARIA

Me? I loved him.

BURR

And me? I’m the damn fool that shot him.

COMPANY

There’s a million things I haven’t done,

but just you wait!

BURR

What’s your name, man?

COMPANY

Alexander Hamilton!

Aaron Burr, Sir

COMPANY

New York City.

HAMILTON

Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir?

BURR

That depends. Who’s asking?

HAMILTON

Oh, well, sure, sir,

I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’m at your service, sir.

I have been looking for you.

BURR

I’m getting nervous.

HAMILTON

Sir…

I heard your name at Princeton. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of

sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punched him. It’s a blur, sir. He handles the financials?

BURR

You punched the bursar.

HAMILTON

Yes!

I wanted to do what you did. Graduate in two, then join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid,

I’m not stupid.

So how’d you do it? How’d you graduate so fast?

BURR

It was my parents’ dying wish before they passed.

HAMILTON

You’re an orphan. Of course! I’m an orphan.

God, I wish there was a war!

Then we could prove that we’re worth more

than anyone bargained for…

BURR

Can I buy you a drink?

HAMILTON

That would be nice.

BURR

While we’re talking, let me offer you some free advice.

Talk less.

HAMILTON

What?

BURR

Smile more.

HAMILTON

Ha.

BURR

Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.

HAMILTON

You can’t be serious.

BURR

You wanna get ahead?

HAMILTON

Yes.

BURR

Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.

LAURENS

Yo yo yo yo yo!

What time is it?

LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN

Show time!

BURR

…like I said…

LAURENS

Show time! Show time! Yo!

I’m John Laurens in the place to be!

Two pints o’ Sam Adams, but I’m workin’ on three, uh!

Those redcoats don’t want it with me!

Cuz I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I’m free!

LAFAYETTE

Oui oui, mon ami, je m’appelle Lafayette!

The Lancelot of the revolutionary set!

I came from afar just to say “Bonsoir!”

Tell the King “Casse toi!” Who’s the best?

C’est moi!

MULLIGAN

Brrrah brraaah! I am Hercules Mulligan,

Up in it, lovin’ it, yes I heard ya mother said “Come again?”

Lock up ya daughters and horses, of course

it’s hard to have intercourse over four sets of corsets…

LAURENS

No more sex, pour me another brew, son!

Let’s raise a couple more…

LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN

To the revolution!

LAURENS

Well, if it ain’t the prodigy of Princeton college!

MULLIGAN

Aaron Burr!

LAURENS

Give us a verse, drop some knowledge!

BURR

Good luck with that: you’re takin’ a stand.

You spit. I’m ‘a sit. We’ll see where we land.

LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN

Boooo!

LAURENS

Burr, the revolution’s imminent. What do you stall for?

HAMILTON

If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?

i’m so invested rn omg

#nin notes #nin asks #anon #long post

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insignificantmortalsshouldsuffer · 3 months

Note

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot In the Caribbean by providence impoverished In squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

The ten-dollar founding father without a father Got a lot farther by working a lot harder By being a lot smarter By being a self-starter By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter

And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away Across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter

Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned Our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain And he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain

Well, the word got around, they said, this kid is insane, man Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland Get your education, don't forget from whence you came And the world is gonna know your name What's your name, man?

Alexander Hamilton My name is Alexander Hamilton And there's a million things I haven't done But just you wait, just you wait

When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden Two years later, see Alex and his mother bed-ridden Half-dead sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick

And Alex got better but his mother went quick

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide Left him with nothin' but ruined pride, something new inside A voice saying, "Alex, you gotta fend for yourself"

He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf

There would have been nothin' left to do for someone less astute He woulda been dead or destitute without a cent of restitution Started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord Tradin' sugar cane and rum and all the things he can't afford Scammin' for every book he can get his hands on Plannin' for the future see him now as he stands on The bow of a ship headed for the new land In New York you can be a new man

In New York you can be a new man (just you wait) In New York you can be a new man (just you wait) In New York you can be a new man

In New York, New York Just you wait

Alexander Hamilton

We are waiting in the wings for you

Waiting in the wings for you

You could never back down You never learned to take your time

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton

When America sings for you Will they know what you overcame? Will they know you rewrote your game? The world will never be the same, oh

The ship is in the harbor now See if you can spot him (just you wait)

Another immigrant comin' up from the bottom (just you wait)

His enemies destroyed his rep America forgot him

We, fought with him

Me, I died for him

Me, I trusted him

Me, I loved him

And me, I'm the damn fool that shot him (shot him, shot him)

There's a million things I haven't done But just you wait

What's your name, man?

Alexander Hamilton

I'm going to find my knives.

#the crawling chaos tsct

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