great thx

anonymous asked:

im in this server where people mention you from time and they call u emily and thats my name so im like "teehee thats me" n then i remember ur like my name twin and as a fellow emily i would like u to know your art is fantastic and i cry everytime i see it thank u for being an inspiration to emilys everywhere ヾ(゚∀゚ゞ)

*pulls out a comically sized Fisher Price food knife from behind my large cardboard cut-out of joe jonas* there can only be One Emily and I Am Alpha

queefcocaine  asked:

ok.. hear me out.. hance roadtrip for the prompt ;)

“It’s what?” Hunk’s sunglasses almost fell off his face as he struggled to keep his eyes on the road and resist the urge to throttle Lance at the same time. “You said it was a pit stop!

Lance just waved his hand dismissively, shifting to prop his foot on the dashboard. “C’mon two hours isn’t that bad. And it’s for Joshua trees, Hunk! Joshua trees! National parks! What kind of American are you if you don’t love national parks?”

“A normal one,” Hunk grumbled. Lance didn’t respond, and the warble of the radio filled their silence until Hunk sighed deeply, asking, “What exit, babe?”

Ha! One-six-eight, babe,” Lance sat up, throwing his arm around Hunk as he smacked a kiss against his cheek. 

“Lance! You’re gonna get us killed!


“Ugh, I can’t get this damn thing to work.” Hunk unbuckled his seat belt, leaning forward to squint at the radio that spat static from the old car’s speakers. 

“Just pick a CD, there should be a bunch in there,” Lance pointed to the center console, rubbing his eyes in the glaring headlights of opposing traffic. 

Hunk snorted as he rifled through the cracked jewel cases and free floating discs that mingled with old receipts and sugar packets. “I didn’t realize Selena even had this many albums.”

“Watch it-” Lance warned with a smirk, “You know I was conceived to a Selena song.”

“Ugh, dude,” Hunk faked a wretch, “Did your mom tell you that? That kinda ruins Selena for me-”

Lance snickered, grabbing one of Hunk’s hands as the other popped in a disc labeled ‘Sophie’s Jams.’ Their gazes met for a second before Lance had to tear his away and focus on the road. Hunk sighed contentedly, caressing the back of Lance’s hand with his thumb. A smile curled over Lance’s lips as they drove on through the endless desert, following the moon that loomed low over the dunes.


“It’s beautiful.” 

Lance’s gaze was transfixed by the ocean the sprawled blue and gray before them, lapping the shore and bringing a cold breeze on its waves. Hunk, on the other hand, looked down at the figure that nestled into his shoulder, wide-eyed in an oversize sweatshirt (pulled from Hunk’s luggage, of course.)

“It doesn’t look that much different from your ocean, y’know.” 

Lance rolled his eyes, nudging Hunk in the side. “I know, but- it’s still different. I can’t believe your house is out there somewhere.”

Hunk laughed, “Hawaii is a long way from California. I still can’t believe your mom let us take the car.”

“She’s been looking for an excuse to ditch that hunk of junk for forever,” Lance smirked, reaching down to entwine his fingers with Hunk’s, “I think she was secretly hoping we’d total it in Nebraska or something so she could get a Benz.”

“Then she’ll be mad we only got five flat tires, huh?” Hunk tilted his head with a raised brow.

Lance reached up to catch Hunk’s face, drawing him close. “Still, totally worth it,” he breathed. He felt a chuckle rumbling in Hunk’s chest as they leaned into one another, nuzzling foreheads before their lips met softly against the Pacific backdrop.

anonymous asked:

I saw this prompt that was three great words "THE JEFFERSON PAMPHLET" which makes a great AU, but I LOVE fics where Jefferson cheats on Hamilton... so like, a Hemmings Pamphlet (where he cheats on A.Ham with Sally Hemmings)?!?! That'd great k thx bye

There was no happy way to end this I’m sorry. Also, I wrote the Wayles Pamphlet (as in Martha Jefferson’s maiden name) instead. I have a lot of issues with Jefferson’s relationship with Sally Hemings and I feel like using her would be abusing her life/legacy.

Send me a prompt if you want me to write something for you! If you use a list please specify old list or new list.

Have you read this?

That’s all anybody wanted to know. Not if Alexander was okay, not if he had known beforehand, not if he had talked to him yet. Just:

Have you read this?

Of course he had read it. Of course he wasn’t okay, of course he hadn’t known, and, well, he was about to talk to him.

The Wayles Pamphlet.

He was sitting on the edge of the couch clutching the pamphlet in his hands when Thomas came home. The Virginian stopped in the doorway, not daring to come any closer to his husband, who wouldn’t look at him.

A tense silence fell over the room until Thomas said quietly, “You’ve read it.”

Alexander crushed the paper in his fists. “Yes.”

“Alexander—”

“Don’t speak.” The harshness in Alexander’s voice struck Thomas like whip. “How could you do this?” Thomas tried to respond but Alexander cut him off again. “I’m not done. I’m upset that it happened. I’m upset that you—”

Had a torrid affair. Alexander couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“But I am…furious that you didn’t tell me. We could’ve talked it out like adults, like husbands, but instead I had to find out after the rest of the world, through a pamphlet.

“Alexander, I’m so sorry.”

Alex let out a sharp, hurt-filled laugh. “Damn right you’re sorry.”

“Can we please talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” Alexander waved the crushed paper in his face. “I already read all about it.”

“Alexander, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Was it worth it?” Alexander asked. “Was she worth it?”

“No,” Thomas whispered. “No. No one is worth it but you.”

Alexander looked away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Thomas. Don’t just tell me what I want to hear.” There was a beat of silence and Alex asked quietly, “Do you love her?”

Thomas crossed the room and tried to take Alexander’s hands, but the smaller man pulled away violently. Thomas tried to repress his hurt as he spoke.

“I love you, Alexander.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Thomas reached out again to put his hand on Alexander’s arm, and Alexander finally shattered

“Don’t touch me!” he shrieked, bursting into sobs, shedding the first tears since he had found out. He dropped his face and wept into his hands. “Don’t touch me,” he repeated, weaker this time.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered, fighting back his own tears at seeing his brave little lion looking so…broken. Alexander was broken and it was all Thomas’s fault.

“Get out,” Alexander said, cursing the shake in his voice.

“Please, Alexander, just let me explain.”

“I said get out.”

Thomas sighed and stood up. He went back across the room and paused in the front doorway, turning back to Alexander.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

Alexander didn’t respond.

anonymous asked:

excuse me sir? Sir! sir? if you could perhaps stop being so handsome and stylish for like a hecking minute that'd be great thx have a great day

don’t tell me what to do u big meanie this is my house

honestly, saying someone shouldn’t hate a misogynistic war profiteer because they’re mentally ill is so fucking dumb. like okay? u say we can’t hate him cos he has ptsd/anxiety/depression whatever but then y'all do the same exact thing of hating people with mental illnesses? cos like. the fact is, is that tony ain’t the only one with ptsd. he ain’t the only one with anxiety or depression! the “”“dumb antis”“” also go thru stuff like this, so like, if y'all demons could stop using his mental illness as an excuse for his behavior and stuff, that’d be great thx