i want people to start making Hamilton ocs like just iNVENT A FOUNDING FATHER just fUCKING MAKE UR OWN AMERICAN HISTORY self insert where u wrote part of the constitution
Hi my name is Abigayle Char’ity Rebecka “Becky” Livingston and I have long powdered white hair (that’s how I got my nickname) with natural honey blonde streaks that reaches my mid-back and handsome black eyes like obsidian mirrors and a lot of people tell me I look like Marie Antoinette (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Alexander Hamilton but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a Patriot but my clothes are all British-made. I have pale white skin. I’m also a politician, and I go to a place called the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia where I’m a junior delegate (even though I’m a woman). I’m a Federalist (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hercules Mulligan and I buy all my clothes from him. For example today I was wearing floral stays with matching lace around it and a cotton petticoat, silk stockings and black heeled shoes. I was wearing pink rouge, white paint, and elderberry eyebrow darkener. I was walking outside the Pennsylvania State House. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of Republicans stared at me. I bit my thumb at them.
My OC is Gunjamin Franklin. He’s Benjamin Franklin’s brother, but he has a gun
im actually crying
i have 99 problems and 48 of them are life problems and…
HAMILTON
IS
THE
OTHER
51
Alexander Hamilton: From now on, we will be using code names. You can address me as Eagle One. Eliza, code name – Been There, Done That. Maria is – Currently Doing That. Angelica is – It Happened Once in a Dream. Laurens, code name – If I Had To Pick a Dude. Burr is – Eagle Two.
Aaron Burr: Oh thank God.
okay so it’s cute that we all make out that Hamilton would come back from the dead and be honoured and annoyingly showy-offy about ‘Hamilton’ but let’s not kid ourselves, that pain-in-everyone’s ass would find out what rap was and in 2.5 seconds be creating a 10hr rap musical purely to out write Lin and tell his own unnecessarily long and overly personal life story
burr: hey angelica whats your number?
angelica, visibly texting: i dont have a phone
so I’m reading Alexander Hamilton’s letters because that’s the sort of thing I do for funsies and he is ABSOLUTELY the guy who FLIPS HIS SHIT when you don’t text him back
like, historically, is what I am saying here
I present Exhibit A, this letter to Laurens, FIRST FUCKING PARAGRAPH:
I acknowlege but one letter from you, since you left us, of the 14th of July which just arrived in time to appease a violent conflict between my friendship and my pride. I have written you five or six letters since you left Philadelphia and I should have written you more had you made proper return.
“Bro, I texted you like FIVE OR SIX TIMES and you didn’t send SHIT.”
But like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued. I had almost resolved to lavish no more of them upon you and to reject you as an inconstant and an ungrateful ——.
Yes, that is Hamilton comparing his letters to Laurens to sex. In a totes str8 way. Also, those two lines were a deliberate blank, which means that they are absolutely censoring a swear. I’ll pause to let you imagine Hamilton sitting over the paper, quill in hand, thinking, “Well, I could use ‘asshole’ or ‘motherfucker’… no, I’ll just leave it blank so he can fill it in himself. LIKE INSULT MADLIBS.”
But you have now disarmed my resentment and by a single mark of attention made up the quarrel. You must at least allow me a large stock of good nature.
“But then you sent me one letter and I was like, ‘Aww, I can’t stay mad at you.’”
Oh, but that’s just Laurens, you say. NO SIR. THIS IS EQUAL OPPORTUNITY TEXT-DEMANDING. I present Exhibit B in my case, this letter from Hamilton to Eliza:
It is an age my dearest since I have received a letter from you; the post is arrived and not a line.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TEXT ME BACK?”
I know not to what to impute your silence; so it is I am alarmed with an apprehension of your being ill. Sometimes I suspect a [????] of your letters. Sometimes my anxiety accuses you of negligence but I chide myself whenever it does.
Oh, honey. I mean, disease was definitely An Actual Thing that Hamilton would have been afraid of (not just because of his backstory but as a common issue in colonial America), but seriously, dude doesn’t get any letters and immediately thinks the worst.
And then, after like a whole paragraph of talking about how much he needs her letters and how he sends her letters even though he’s so busy and blah blah blah:
Pardon me my lovely girl for any thing I may have said that has the remotest semblance of complaining. If you knew my heart thoroughly you would see it so full of tenderness for you that you would not only pardon, but you would even love my weaknesses.
“I’m sorry, I’m just venting, I just really need you to text me back.”
For god’s sake My Dear Betsey try to write me oftener and give me the picture of your heart in all its varieties of light and shade. Tell me whether it feels the same for me or did when we were together, or whether what seemed to be love was nothing more than a generous sympathy. The possibility of this frequently torments me.
This is Alexander Hamilton writing to his fiancée asking if she actually likes him or if she’s just being nice to him. Alexander Hamilton is literally this post:
*nudges husband awake at 4 AM*
me: do you like me
him: I MARRIED YOU
me: yes but did you marry me as a friend, or like, a wife? unclearAlexander Hamilton: anxious & in need of constant validation and attention