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snacho-to-ur-nacho · 5 months ago

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Is the post you made about burr about historical burr or musical? Because if you’re talking about historical then it’s completely biased lmfao. You’re reading Ron chernow so I’m not really surprised you have that opinion but Hamilton was completely in the wrong for his treatment of burr historically.

Disregarding the fact jefferson was one of the most prolific slave owners of the 18th century, and the fact Hamilton advocated for runaway slaves who escaped to Britain to be returned to their US masters and that he bought slaves for his brother-in-law, Burr treated his household slaves very well in comparison to his contemporaries and insisted they receive an education.

The point that he didn’t have an opinion on anything was something false that Hamilton and other federalists used in order to promote their own narrative and careers. Burr had clear and concrete ideals, evident from the way he voted in elections and what he promoted. He did not however clearly associate with a single party which made people think he wasn’t trustworthy and was very flaky which just isn’t true lol.

And what secrets are you even referring to? Is it the manhattan well company or what?

You are just regurgitating 18th and 19th century slander lmfaoo

damn thats a long ask, but let me get into this.

so it was sort of talking about both, i was listening tp the song and found the lyric funny, but it applies to history too.

theres several parts to this, and you got my curiousity spiked so i looked into this:

- 'Early in his political career, Burr also introduced a bill for the abolition of slavery to the New York state legislature; the bill was voted down. However, Burr was a slaveholder for most of his adult life. His parents, grandparents, and wife Theodosia Prevost were also slaveholders. While surviving records are scarce, it appears that Burr often bought and sold enslaved people as his finances rose and fell; the few named individuals seldom appear more than a handful of times in his papers. On the night before his duel with Hamilton, he put his affairs into order in the event that he did not survive. Instead of freeing the enslaved people in his household, he left them to his daughter Theodosia in South Carolina, where they likely would have been sold. So while he was outwardly a manumissionist, he never backed up his words with any actions.'

(roughly paraphrasing from a text)

- as fpr hwo he treated his slaves, i loojed and couldnt find any info about it, can you send me your source?

-now, for the thought that he didnt have an opinion, i will admit i mispoke. what i meant to say that yes, while he had opinions, however loojing at all he wrote he does seem very selfish, doing whatever benefited him the best. i understand why he didnt choose, seeming to only become democratic republican when he saw an oppertunity out of it. even if he did have his own opinipns, it doesnt seem that way to me, or clearly alexander hamilton.

-alexander also did nothing wrong by choosing jefferson over burr, it was a personal choice, he did what he thought was right, you cant bash him for it, esprcially with burr stealing his Father-in-laws seat. he chose wjo he thought would be better for america

-burr was a pretty secretive person overall, but i didnt know about the manhattan well company. however he had a whole secret colored family with a slave from india, and knwoing how slavery was, thers a good chance she didnt havr a choice about it, which might (MIGHT) have been SA or rape. now, this is a small chance, but still, plus having an rntire colored family is quite a secret. then theres also the whole burr conspiracy, and so many others succh things which show burr had so many secrets. clearly, he was a hypocrite, denouncing one thing and doing the same thing in secret. so yea, he had secrets.

also, damn u actually scanned my posts to find what im reading? read it, its good trust me. and, if youre so concerned in what im reading, can i reccomend you a book? its called infinity alchemist and its by kacen callender and the protagonist is a bly named ashen woods eho is chaotic and ramsay thorne is the best fucking character and no its not related but still!!!

(also ps to those who hate on burr, remember he was a real person, and dont make assumptions, he had a gpod sife too, he was a feminist (tho he might have been another one of those male feminists who claim to be so but just gave a tendancy to SA women (neil gaimon)) but he could have actually been a good one idk this is history)

#this post is a mess #amrev #alexander hamilton #hamilton #infinity alchemist #ramsay thorne #ashen woods #what is this #historical hamilton #aaron burr #thomas jefferson

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3amfanfiction · 3 months ago

Text

Neighbor Johnny

A new neighbor moved into the house behind yours. He is insistent on being friendly. 2k cw: none

You had a new neighbor, Johnny, who was . . . something else.

He cornered you outside the first time you met him— scaring you half out of your mind.

“Ach lass, dinnae mean ta frighten ye.”

He's handsome, was your first thought, the second—how much you enjoyed the Scottish burr that rolled off his tongue.

As your heart tried to settle back into your chest you turned to face him properly. With a sheepish grin on his face, he had his shoulders hunched forward as if trying to make himself smaller, hands tucked into his blue jeans which clung to his tree-trunk like thighs.

"You're okay, I'm kind of jumpy in general," you laughed shakily, attempting to brush off the fear still lingering in your veins. "Sorry, what was it you asked?"

"I was sayin' I jus' moved into the unit behind ye," he pointed to an apartment that was the mirror image of yours, "and I dinnae ken where's good ta eat. Ye wouldn't happen ta have any suggestions, would ye?" A boyish smile curled up his lips, blue eyes squinting in the sun.

As you asked him what he was in the mood for you never noticed the laser focus he kept on you, taking in your every word, every shift, every breath. Every moment memorized.

///

The next time he bumped into you he was on his way back in from a run and you were taking out the trash.

Of course you would see him again when you were in ratty, baggy shorts and a 2 sizes too big t-shirt with a sauce stain from dinner last night on the collar, the socks in the sandals were the finishing touch on your ensemble.

And then here he came, shirtless in a pair of running shorts, thickly muscled legs leading down to worn-in tennis shoes. You wanted to bite those thighs.

Sweat was dripping down his face when he saw you, eyes lighting up in the early morning air. He course corrected your way, slowing his jog incrementally.

Why was life this unfair?

"Mornin' birdie, aren't ye a vision," smiling ear to ear, he came to a stop right in front of you, lifting a hand up to drag across his face, clearing the beads of sweat. You resolutely ignored looking at his chest, covered in a thick mat of dark, curling hair. It was damp with exertion and you yanked your eyes back up to his when you noticed you were following a droplet as it trailed from behind his ear, running down his neck, past his collar bone—

Hurriedly laughing off his joke you finished tossing the trash into the bin, "Good morning Johnny, I hope everything's been going good?"

Johnny took this as license to begin telling you all about his week, from the grocery store being out of his favorite pastry, I was plumb heartbroken hen, the lady behind the counter gave me tissues when she saw me tearin' up, to his footie team losing the match, and then because of the bet, ye remember, I had ta do the whole course naked as the day I was born. The splinters, ye see—

It was a good 20 minutes before you were able to get away.

"Well," you said, dusting off your hands like you hadn't tossed the garbage bag ages ago, "I don't want to keep you. Have a good one Johnny and I'll talk to you later," you smile as you edged towards your front door, ready to be back in the comfort of your home and away from this ridiculously handsome man who didn't seem to realize how good looking he was.

Or how much he invaded others' space.

“Aye lass, I’ll hold ye ta that,” he allowed, coming in for a damp hug which you returned quickly out of shock. As he stepped back he kept his eyes on yours until he finally turned around.

Creepy.

Almost as creepy as you licking your lips, tasting salt from where they had been pressed up against his shoulder during the hug.

///

It was a few days later when he caught you again, “Running ta the grocery, 's there anythin' ye need?” He was standing at your front door, where he'd knocked great booming thuds against the wood just moments prior.

“Oh no, I’m good, thank you though Johnny," was this weird? Or were you making it weird by thinking it was weird? He was only being neighborly, why are you so against him being friendly? He hasn't done anything wrong.

“Surely there’s somethin' yer runnin' low on," he tries. "Lotion? Batteries? Soap?”

You laughed at the random combination, charmed despite yourself at the sight of his roguish grin and bright eyes.

"As a matter of fact, I did just use the last of my butter this morning," you threw him a bone—allowing him this. You missed the way his face got sharp for a moment before evening back out.

"Aye, I can handle that," orders received, commencing operations.

"I'll be back 'fore ye know it, hen," was tossed out over his shoulder as he headed out, no more flirting, no lingering, no sidelong glances. If you would've known it was this easy to get rid of him you would've sent him on assignments long before now.

You brushed it off and headed inside, door closing with a soft click before you locked it.

///

In no time at all you heard a knock knock coming from the front. Opening the door you're surprised when Johnny breezed right in, as if it was his right.

"Hi hen, I'm back."

You're not sure how he talked his way around seeing your home. He must have a golden tongue of some sort because it's like he started talking and you find yourself pulled under his sway, helpless but to follow along. Weren't you trying to keep your distance?

“How long have ye lived here, then? ’S lookin' a little bare” he said, gaze running over the empty walls.

You gave an embarrassed shrug, “A few months but I’m not exactly the most . . . handy of people,” here you gestured to the television that was mounted on the wall a touch too high.

When Johnny followed your lackluster waving to look at the screen, he couldn't help but bark out a laugh.

The TV was — well. It was on the wall and that’s about all that could be said for it. “I didn’t mean to mount it that high. It just kind of happened,” you said haltingly, embarrassed at the look he was giving you. Your cheeks must have been 200 degrees, “—and it was such a pain to get the screws in the first time that I just," you shrugged, "left it.”

“Ye have ta practically lay flat on yer back ta watch it!” Johnny exclaimed in astonishment. You buried your face in your hands, unable to keep his gaze any longer.“It’s fine! I’ll fix it. Eventually," you allow. "I just haven’t needed to yet.”

“Nah, I’m nae gonna have ye puttin' up with this. I’m busy today but I’ll be by early tomorrow mornin', ya hear?”

You tried to argue, insisted that he didn't need to fix it. He didn’t listen and steamrolled right over you.

\\\

The next day he was back at your house, making good on his promises. He didn't bring any tools over, using what you had to correct your mistake. That would have been perfectly fine if he would just. Stop. Talking.

"Ach, look at how prepared you are, dove. You've got the whole kit then, don't you?" He looked over your, honestly not-that-impressive tool kit with a discerning eye. Reaching in for what he needed he nodded his head at you with a condescending wink, "haven't you done so well."

After that you found yourself fluttering around him; offering him help, a drink, anything he needed.

Johnny put his hands on your shoulders. physically stopping you, "Sit down, beautiful, you donnae need to be faffin' about like this. Get comfy on the couch and just sit there lookin' pretty for me, yeah?”

Oh—you're not—that's not something—

You didn't say anything, you couldn't say anything. Instead you did what he told you, taking a seat on the couch and talking to him while he worked.

He adjusted the TV to a more acceptable height embarrassingly easy. What had taken you an hour to do incorrectly he had fixed in fifteen minutes. You stood to thank him, assuming you would be leading him out of the house shortly.

So how did you end up sitting back on the couch, watching a movie with your neighbor pressed all up against one side?

He was characteristically persuasive when he convinced you watching a movie was necessary to make sure all the connections worked right, seeing as how he'd had to unplug everything when he pulled it from the wall to fix your mishap. He had tugged you back into your seat and sat close beside you, pulling up a streaming service and selecting a movie you hadn't heard of before.

As he settled in to get comfortable with an arm thrown around the back of the couch you decided there wasn't really a whole lot for it and settled in yourself to watch the movie.

That was an hour ago and you were regretting your decision fiercely.

The movie Johnny had chosen was a dramatic romance with plenty of R rated scenes. There was one playing out across the screen currently and you were trying to be subtle as you squirmed, rubbing your sticky thighs together as the female lead moaned enthusiastically for the male lead eating her out on the kitchen table.

You probably could have restrained yourself if not for Johnny unabashedly rubbing his chubbing cock through his jeans. He had shifted and pulled his arm off the backrest but he was still pressed to you from shoulder to knee. You didn't realize what was happening at first until you glanced away from the screen after the lead's second orgasm and realized where his hand had crept.

He didn't look at you as he palmed himself—he kept his eyes firmly locked to the screen. It was almost as if he didn't realize he was doing it. Should you say something or just leave it? If no one drew attention to anything does that mean no one gets embarrassed?

Thankfully the scene ended soon and Johnny stood up with an excuse of using the bathroom, leaving you to get a grip on yourself. As he stepped inside the room he must have been a little too wound up because he failed to close the door properly, leaving it cracked just enough for the sound of skin rasping on skin as he touched himself to echo out into the living room.

After what felt like ages you heard the water running as he washed his hands. Shortly afterwards he was back on the couch, arm slung behind you once more.

There were no more heated scenes before the movie ended which was a relief. This time Johnny didn't argue as you led him to the door, simply told you he would be back the day after tomorrow to help with other handy-man items he had seen while he was there.

With an exasperated eye roll you agreed and told him you'd see him then, unable to help smiling back sweetly when he beamed at you before he headed home.

A short while later you went to the bathroom when you noticed your conditioner sitting on the back of the toilet, cap ajar, when you were sure you had left it on the lip of the tub. You frowned as you picked it up and looked at it curiously before you fixed the cap and placed it where it belonged. When you went to wash your hands you noticed your toothbrush sat on the counter. That was strange, it had been hours since you brushed your teeth, why was it still wet?

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