why did my brain think that was a good idea

It is over… I am done… like really… spare me… no no more ARHG!!!!
why did I think that this was a good idea. What did past nene think???
a right… nene is a birb and does not think….


-beka is like “nice bike bro”
-and iwa does not know if it is really a compliment or that small guy over there is mocking him.
-we never know / be cautious / oikawa is so dead when iwa comes home
-obligatory birbs everywhere (oh there are my brain peaces
-I forgot how many cats I put in there…. Can you help me count them?
(right number gets a smooch! <3)


art by me
pleas don’t repost

i promis i will do better next time!!! but until then please forgive me ;;;

Sink or Ship - Scruffy Holmes (Igor Petrenko & Andrey Panin)

You know how Livanov and Solomin couldn’t stop cuddling?  Well these two can’t stop beating each other up.

These days, when I watch a Sherlock Holmes adaptation for the first time, I go into it with the mindset that I’ll probably end up shipping Holmes and Watson.  With this version, though, all thoughts of shipping completely fled my mind the second I hit play.  About halfway through the first episode, those thoughts resurfaced briefly and weakly, poking my brain with a tentative, “Hey, maybe you wanna ship it?”  To which I replied, “Nah, I’m good.”  Why did this happen?  The answer is very simple.

I don’t have a clue.

I really don’t.  Petrenko and Panin just don’t have that kind of chemistry, I guess. Or maybe it’s because they punch each other so much that shipping them would feel like endorsing domestic abuse. Whatever the reason, these two strike me as a couple of friends rather than as a couple.

(That being said, the more I think about this, the more I have questions.  The thing about the 2013 Russian miniseries is that it confronts the idea that Watson is a Liar McLiarpants whose stories hold only a grain of truth, and that the reality is wildly different from what got published.  Accepting their premise that this non-shippy version of Holmes and Watson is the ‘real’ one, it inevitably begs the question of how the stories Watson published ended up so darn gay.  Does Watson have some unrequited or undealt-with feelings for Holmes, or maybe he did it deliberately to needle Holmes for some reason?  Does Watson’s publisher ship it?  Am I way overthinking this when I could be getting on with the post?)

There is one more thing I should address: this is one of those increasingly common versions that tries to shove a girlfriend at Holmes in a pathetic attempt to convince me he’s straight.  In this case, they hook him up with Irene Adler, which is a completely original idea that does not miss the point of the source material in any way and has definitely not been done to death.  Since I choose to read Sherlock Holmes as asexual and also because I like Irene the way she was originally written, this grates on me a wee bit (or a big bit).  I have discovered/engineered an out, though: since their one and only sexual encounter occurred after a night of swilling absinthe, I’ve decided that the drink had more to do with it than any real sexual attraction on Holmes’ part.

As for this Holmes’ romantic inclinations, I’m still trying to suss that out.  I guess he could be about anything, but honestly, romance is not my priority with this version so I don’t spend as much time thinking about it as I normally do.  Don’t know, don’t care.

SINK OR SHIP?: That’s a hearty нет on this one.

P.S. Panin is my favorite Watson of all time. He is amazing.  Go watch this series.  You will thank me.  Well except for that part where Irene Adler’s in blackface, but the subtlety and quiet humor Panin brings to this role is unparalleled.  I don’t even have a joke to go here; you just need to watch him right now.

god dammit

dont make this a thing   please make this a thing

XD SO! this came up when i was rp-ing with my buddy @arangothalicious !!!
i am NOT going into that, but i made a joke and just started spamming handsome squidward at everything Papyrus did XD
oh gosh
what have i done

A Slip of the Tongue

In case you wanted to fall deeper into the Wilde-Hopps trash bin :

This is in Nick’s POV 

I don’t do relationships. I’ve seen my fair share of mammals, who seemed crazy about each other, fall apart and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be apart of it. So why, I ask, did I let my brain trick me into getting attached? And why, why, why did I think it would be a good idea to open my idiotic mouth? She’s staring at me, eyes wide with a question forming on her lips. This is not at all how I wanted movie night to go. I stay rooted in denial, somehow believing that she didn’t hear the words I said so clearly, not even a foot away from her. The idea calms me enough to pull my expression into it’s usual disinterested stare. The soft glow of the television screen moves across her features, as “The Taming of the Shrew,” plays on, now only background noise. C’mon Fluff, Just look at the screen and pretend I said nothing, I plead within my thoughts, but she continues to dart her eyes across my face, probably searching for the expression that I’m hiding. Everything feels like an eternity as I wait for her response, and I fight the urge to play it off as a joke, knowing she’d see right through it. She takes a slow, audible breath and I’m not sure if it’s been seconds or minutes since my confession fell from my lips, but the wait is unbearable. I think I’ve made her speechless so I attempt to say something that doesn’t completely demolish the friendship we have.

“I- uh” I begin speaking but my stupid mouth can’t seem to get any words to string together coherently. Her brows pull together and she looks down, breaking eye contact. My stomach drops at this small movement and then knots up when her eyes return to mine. She already hurt me once, and I forgave her, but never forgot so I don’t know whether to hope for my words to be ignored or for them to be responded to. It feels like she has the power to crush me with a simple phrase and I hate it. Now I’m wide open waiting for an attack that I can’t defend myself from. Finally, in an excruciatingly slow exhale, she says my name and I want to run. I close my eyes, mentally scolding myself for my slip of tongue. All she did was look at me. Only a few moments ago her eyes held mine tenderly, a soft smile curving her lips, and the words just spilled out. The words I had only ever said jokingly or within my mind.  

I hear her begin to speak but my brain doesn’t want to decipher what she’s saying, and I don’t let it. I’m not ready to hear whatever she has to say, and I don’t need to anyway, since I’m already aware of what it’s going to be. Something about not wanting to risk what we already have which is a stable and invaluable friendship. It’s what I would say if it were the other way around. So why does it hurt when I imagine her telling me I already know? I allow myself one more moment of ignorance, take a breath, and listen. I stare blankly at her, letting her words register and in my head.

“Say that again,” I say, meaning for it to come out as a question, only for it to escape as a desperate demand.

My response must have been amusing because she gives her toothy smile that seems to brighten the dim-lit room. “I love you too.” She doesn’t say it in a joking or teasing way like anytime before, as friends do. Her words are sincere and now the question that’s been sitting in the back of my mind for months has an answer. I can’t fight the stupid grin spreading across my lips as Judy leans in closer to me and turns to watch the movie again, completely oblivious to the minor freak out I just went through. My whole life I’ve been so used to being let down that the warm rushes of relief hit me hard enough to make my eyes water, blurring my vision. Finally, I let myself hope that I might just have the happy life that I gave up on years ago. She feels warm and I watch the small movements of her ears as she listens to the movie, and the rise and fall of her chest that comes with her breaths. Every detail showing evidence of life that will eventually leave her before the year ends. I let out a contented sigh and pull her closer to me, unaware of this fact.

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Going from “I want to draw them in school uniforms” to “why did my brain think this was a good idea”.

I blame @ocean-kun for this–look at what you made me do I couldn’t stop thinking about Frisk in seifuku–

Okay now I can go crash :D

EDIT: Also here’s the sketch because for some reason I really like it haha–

I’ll Finish You In Two.

A/N: I’m sure most can guess the inspo for this ;) enjoy!
Rating: M
Warnings: S M U T.

The office was quiet, even Hotch had gone home but Spencer remained. Sitting at his desk, you can’t see what exactly it is he’s doing but he leans over it in such a way that makes you think that it must be very important. The cold glass of the door smarts against your skin a little as you push through into the bullpen of the BAU before moving quietly across so as not to disturb him but curiosity drives you to know what it is he’s doing. As you draw level, Spencer looks around to see you standing there, almost jumping out of his skin in shock of another human being in the office.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be here it’s just… I was curious. I’ve seen you around and I’ve heard about you. Spencer, right? I’m…” You start to explain but he cuts you off.

“(Y/N), technical analyst of the NCAVC Unit downstairs.” He cuts in abruptly, leaving you speechless for a moment.

“They said you were freaky good like that. How did you…” You start again but he cuts you off again.

“You were talking with Penelope last year when Peter Lewis hacked our systems and brought down the power to all the terminals. You were panicked because you thought the hack had broken through your encryptions too.” He reamed off the details without even pausing for air which had you standing speechless yet again till your eyes wandered down to see the travel chess set in front of him.

“This is what has you sitting up till the small hours at work?” You ask, nodding towards the set and causing him to look down to it and frown.

“It’s an important game, I’m playing against…” He looks away from the board for a moment. “… an old friend.” He looks back to you. “Or at least how I remember him playing.” 

This puzzles you for a moment but you accept it, thinking of a much better idea.

“I’ve just finished my work and I have a full size set in my office, would you like a game with someone in the flesh?” You gesture towards the door without really turning around. “I mean, it’s quiet in there and we won’t be disturbed by the cleaners.” He looks back at his set and frowns again as if he’s pondering either his next move or his imaginary opponent’s next move but then he looks back up to you.

“I think I could use a break from this, he has me in quite a spot.” He stands up and picks up his bag without any sign of understanding how strange that sounded considering he was playing himself.


In the dim light of your windowless office, his features seem somehow more pronounced as he stares at the board but it’s clear his head is in his other game and not yours. He finally moves a piece and without hesitation your hand moves and for the second time in a row…

“Checkmate. Are you even here?” You ask, somewhat annoyed. He leans back away from the board, tucking his hair behind his ear before realising his error. “You aren’t in the games, I was nice enough to offer you the company, could you at least play?” Spencer looks up at you, apology in his eyes.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I just… I can’t concentrate. For some reason I feel like there’s more at stake in a game with someone who’s not even there and it’s unfair.” He shakes his head and looks back at the board as you reset it.

“More at stake in an imaginary game?” You ask, almost insulted. “I can clearly beat you while you aren’t concentrating, but I’ll have you know I was high school champion and I wager I can beat you. So let’s put something at stake.” He looks at you with curiosity. “I er… don’t really have any money on me though.”

“Money on a game doesn’t really bring the stakes up for me.” He says, helping you reset the board.

“How about pride?” That caught his interest. “Strip Chess, each piece I take, you lose a piece of clothing. You lose this time, you end up naked. How’s that for a stake?” You smirk, thinking of how embarrassed he’d be if he were to lose through distraction and end up in the nude in your office. He looks you up and down for a moment before he makes his mind up.

“Deal, but the same goes for you.” You curse inwardly, having genuinely not been thinking about the outcome if he won. What if he put his all into the game and beat you in three moves or something silly and you end up naked in your office without him even removing a sock?

“Fine, you’re on.” On the outside you’re cocky and sure of yourself, but inside you’re panicking about how he’ll play.

Spencer finally takes off his bag and jacket to lean forward and settle into the game. He’s wearing a shirt and tie, corduroy pants and a pair of sneakers. You shift in your seat, correcting your skirt beneath you and lean forwards, making sure your blouse doesn’t pull too much from being tucked in before turning the board around so that the white pieces face him as you take the black.

His eyes flick across the board as he decides which way to start this high stakes game, his lips purse for a moment as his tongue slides from between them as if they were dry. Was he feeling the pressure? Was the idea of ending up naked a heavy distraction as well as a driver?

After what seemed like an age, he gently grips a pawn and moves forward to ‘E4’ before sitting up slightly and looking to you as if to inform you it is your turn.

Oh dear… are you really going through with this?

Your eyes scan the board, at this point there is very little indication of what might be a good opening move. What could throw him off his game? Then a stroke of genius seems to light up your features as you move a pawn to confront his face to face, neither pawn able to take but an aggressive signal.

Spencer smirks without looking away from the board, his thoughts hidden deep within that amazing brain of his but the outward clue was devious as he leans forward, reaching out and moving his knight to ‘F3’.

At least I still have my shoes on… Is all you can think as you try and work around his move and why he did it. He could take the pawn but what good would it do him from there? You can easily set up to… that’s it!

Leaning forwards, you move your knight to ‘C6’, defending the poor pawn. The technical victory makes you smirk till he leans forward and moves his pawn to ‘D4’, offering himself to you on a plate. The idea of him being the first to lose an item of clothing was too good to pass up as you move your pawn to take his.

“Well, well, looks like your socks and shoes are coming off.” You chuckle as he sighs, slowly shifting his seat back to remove his footwear. Sitting back, you watch him as he carefully places his rolled up socks into his shoes and feels the carpet with his toes.

“I suppose there are always casualties in war.” He remarks as he looks back to the board, picking up the next pawn and moving it to ‘C3’.

Really? What is he doing?

You can’t help yourself now. You know you’re absolutely walking into something but can’t help thinking It’s only a pawn as you use the same pawn to take his yet again.

“Off with the tie now, Dr. Reid.” You toy with him as he sighs and starts pulling the knot of his tie before sliding it from under his collar. The tie has barely hit the floor and he moves his knight to ‘C3’, taking your pawn as you’d suspected. 

A grin spreads on your lips as you lean down and slip off your heels.

“Shouldn’t get too sure of yourself.” He says teasing you in return as you sit up again.
The words make you feel defiant and you quickly move a pawn to ‘D6’, slamming the plastic moulded piece down on the board. Sitting back, you watch his features again, this time admiring them a little more. His hair is dishevelled and a little longer than usual, his eyes are slightly sunken, showing how much he’s seen in his lesser years.

After a few moments, he slowly moves his bishop to ‘C4’, hovering his finger tentatively before releasing and confirming his move. The board doesn’t seem to herald much danger for you, so you feel it’s time to go on the offensive a little more rather than reacting to his moves, hoping to impress him a little. You see a potential opening, given the correct circumstances, taking your bishop and moving to ‘G4’.

His finger rests on his chin, just under his lip as he stares at the board in concentration and determination. Has he seen your plan or is he just playing out ways to beat you? Picking up his king, he moves two spaces to the right, then he takes up his rook and moves it to ‘F1’ before looking to you for an objection.

“It’s a legal move, you seem to think I am unaware of it.” 

He smiles warmly, confirming he was testing the waters to see just how much you understood but while he was toying with you he was distracted, time to deploy the trap. Calmly, you move your knight to ‘E5’, putting on your best poker face and pretending not to see that his knight can take you.

It worked, he’s been so distracted by the idea of taking your piece that he moves his knight to take yours, exposing his queen. This makes you smile, till you realise you now have to lose a piece of clothing, and with only a blouse and a skirt to chose from.

“Oh.” The word escapes your lips as you try and stem the burning sensation in your cheeks through sheer willpower but it doesn’t work.

“Your rules, (Y/N).” you nod as he watches your hands move up to your top button, undoing each in descending order before pulling the blouse free from your arms and letting it drop to the side.

I’m so glad I wore a good bra. Crosses your mind as you sit in nothing but a skirt and a black lace Wonderbra. His eyes on you make you smirk again as you realise he’s enjoying this a little more than perhaps he should. Time to take your revenge, leaning slowly forward, making sure your cleavage shows as much as it can as you move your bishop to take his queen.

“Your turn again, smarty pants.” You gloat as he realises what happened. “I’m sure that’s worth more than one item.” You chuckle at your suggestion as he gives you a look, slowly undoing his shirt, button by button till it is free of him and he drops it to the floor. All that visibly remains are his corduroy pants as he looks up at you and grins deviously again.

“I’ll finish you in two.” 

Was that a promise? You check the board for what he means but your defenses seem fine, you are more on the attack but he sounds so sure. At least you aren’t the only one sat this exposed. 

He leans forward again, picking up his bishop and taking your pawn in ‘F7’.

Oh no.


Trying to hide how red your face is you slide your seat back and accept your fate, standing up and sliding your skirt down past your hips till it drops freely to the floor. You thank God it was laundry day yesterday as your black lace underwear are exposed to him and his boyish grin. Giving him one last glare you sit and pick up your king to take his bishop, till you see his knight threatening. There’s only one way you can move the piece, and that’s forwards. The piece is barely out of your fingers when he moves forward and picks up his other knight and moves it to ‘D5’.

“Checkmate.” Your eyes widen in shock, having not seen that coming at all. Checking as much of the board as possible, rerunning the whole thing over and over you try and think of how it’d happened but either way he was right, you couldn’t move to stop him, it was in fact, checkmate.

“I believe the forfeit for losing was erm…”

“I know what the forfeit is.” You snap but his eyes had barely left you to play the game. Clearly there was something other than the embarrassment he’d been enjoying and you weren’t about to let him take all the fun as you stand up and turn slowly.

“Would you mind?” You ask, turning your head back to him and smirking, your arm turned up behind you to point at the bra clasp. “It’s a little difficult to reach.”

He stands slowly, stepping past the small table where the board is situated and stands close behind you. His hands move to the clasp and carefully tug at either side of the clasp to relieve the elastic tension holding it in place. You feel his entire body close behind you, feeling his warm torso against your back. Turning back, you look at your desk in front of you, leaning down to rest against it, slipping down your underwear and purposefully grinding into him as he stands. Rising up again, you let your underwear fall to the floor, letting your hands move behind you to take hold of his corduroys and undoing the button.

“(Y/N), what are you doing? We might get caught.” He exclaims.

“Oh, I doubt that.” You say in as sultry a voice as you can, grinding your naked behind against him again as you open up his fly. Suddenly his hands find the skin of your sides, moving up just below your arms and down again to your hips.

“We’re quite alone in here and we have all night.” As you speak, you push down the edge of his pants and they fall away, leaving just his underwear. You can feel how excited he is through the single layer of material as you enjoy teasing him, grinding yourself against him and leaning against the desk again.

Finally, he takes the last step, sliding down his own underwear while sliding his free hand up your spine. He places himself against you, repaying the teasing till his hand reaches your shoulder and he lets himself slide forward and deep inside you.

The initial feeling causes you to let out a long gasp as the anticipation of him entering you had been building since you asked him for help with your bra. Your back arches to allow him deeper inside as you start to back against him and he responds by rolling into you. Each motion presses the cheeks of your behind with his hips till the pace picks up and it slowly becomes a slap of skin on skin. The hand on your shoulder grips slightly, giving him leverage to pull you onto him even more as the other hand grabs hold of your hip.

Without warning, the hand on your shoulder pushes hard, forcing you down onto your desk. You have just enough time to push the your monitor to the side but the keys of your keyboard press into your abdomen. A moan escapes your lips as he starts to push deeper and harder into you, causing the edge of the desk to cut into the tops of your thighs lightly with each thrust. Your nails dig into the wood of the desk but his dig into your skin as he keeps you pressed to the desk, his breath quickening along with his movements.

“Holy fuck, Spencer.” You exclaim, trying not to cry out too loud in case of cleaning or security staff patrolling the hallway but he doesn’t seem to want to make it easy for you. The hand from your hip quickly flicks up to tuck his hair behind his ear again before coming back to clench your hip, pulling you harder against him while pulling your cheek away and allowing him even deeper inside. The hand on your shoulder moves across and into your hair, gripping slightly and teasingly as if about to pull and control you with it but he leaves it.

You push away from the desk, partly to relieve your thighs from the edge of the surface, but mostly to push back against him and roll your hips with him. The reciprocated motion is enough to make him moan loudly and lean his body over you, moving his hand from your hair to the desk beside you. His body pressed on you, giving more contact when he rolls into you but also allowing him freedom to slide his hand down your thigh and round between your legs so that his fingers can happily play.

The increased pleasure sends a wave of heat and shivers through your body as the pressure builds and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge till the final wave carries the ecstasy through every fibre of your being and causes you to cry out without any regard for who might hear. Your body tenses and your nails dig grooves into the wood as you grip him tightly inside you causing him to moan even louder. A tingling feeling spreads across your skin as he prolongs your pleasure, continuing to roll his hips hard and play happily with his fingers, enjoying the grip inside you.

“Spence… I want you to… I want to feel you.” You say breathlessly, wanting desperately to share in his ecstasy too. His only response is stifled moans as he bites on his own lips to stop from crying out till finally you feel his body shudder and he releases a loud gasp followed by another and another as he slows his pace and practically lays on you for support.

“Oh my God, (Y/N).” He speaks between attempts to regain his breath, slowly raising up again and stepping away. Every part of you wants to stay laying against the desk, unsure if your legs will support you but you have to, the keys of your keyboard are pressed hard and uncomfortably into your abdomen still.

You share an awkward glance with him and chuckle shyly, pulling up your underwear and starting to grab your clothes up as he does the same. Neither of you speak till you are fully dressed and you both shuffle to the door.

“We should er… play again some time.” You say, trying to regain some notion of normality.

“I think… I think I’d like that.” He replies, tucking his bag under his arm and his hair behind his ear. “Maybe the next time I can’t sleep we can er… we can play.”

And with that he slinks out of the door and you close it behind him thinking What the hell did I just do?

A/N: Sorry not sorry ;3

Yet Another Gajevy One Shot

Since I love writing so much, especially Gajevy, heres a little apartment AU for you where Gajeel tries to buy a piano. Enjoy! :) It’s not too long, only a little over one thousand words.

Her heels clanked up the steps to her apartment, each footfall hitting the concrete harder than the last. After a horrible day all Levy wanted to do was go home and rest, but it seemed her neighbors had other plans when she walked right into a sideways piano.

Full ebony and way too large for the walkway, the piano was tilted so one side of it was hanging over the railing, blocking the way to her apartment. Levy was too short to even see over the huge thing but she could make out some voices talking on the other side. She craned her neck and caught a glimpse of a hand holding the end that was over the railing, the only thing keeping the piano from tipping over and falling to the ground.

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Burr - Longing For the One Who’s Longing

Yo, could I have one where the reader really admire Burr but knows that he has a thing for Theodosia who is married. But Alexander totally notices how much she likes Burr and tells Burr to stop longing after someone who is taken and look for someone else and Burr kind of gets upset. However, Alexander tells reader to go for it now that he’s planted some sense in Burr’s head. Reader asks Burr out, you decided how the rest goes. That’s just a general outline, change it in any way you’d like. - oops-fandoms-have-my-soul

Pairing: Burr X Reader (Tad bit of Alex X Reader ; one sided)
Word Count: 1,530 Words
TW: Only some mild yelling

You couldn’t get him out of your head. His words, his face, his actions, every time you closed your eyes, you always saw him. Why was this happening? You knew he had a thing for Theodosia, it was possible that Burr even loved her.

You scribbled in your leather bound book:

Aaron, why are you in my head? Why must I feel for you, these romantic feelings, when you clearly feel these feelings for another woman, a married one even? I never understood why I felt this way towards you. Is it because of his intellectuality, up in that large brain of his, or possibly the goodness in his heart that definitely was not with him when he debated with Hamilton? I knew he is always good at heart, always good in mind.

You shut your book, letting your head fall on the pillow, making a little umph sound. The leather book was on your chest, your hands folded over it. Your eyelids, fluttered shut, trying to forget Burr as the passing hours of sleep went on.

You pushed open the door of the local cafe, hearing the silver bell jingle above you. You set your things down on a table by the far wall, wanting some kind of privacy.

You stood to place your order, which was a black tea with a minimal amount of sugar. You didn’t want it too be too sweet. You already had enough sweetness in your life.

You sat with your back facing towards the windows, you didn’t want any distractions. You placed your tea and the saucer off to one side of the table, reaching for your diary. You wrote as much as you possibly could, wanting to see how daily life was for you that day. You turned over a few pages from the last entry you wrote last night.

Taking out your fanciest fountain pen and your most pigmented ink pot, you scratched on the paper:

My brightest memory, seems only like a dream. It is too fantastical to be true. Two years have past since then. I wish the same would occur again. If only it would occur with the one who I want my heart to be held by.

You immediately lower your hand and let the pen fall down on the paper. Ink spilled slightly onto the parchment. You noticed a shadow looming over you. You whip your head around to find an Alexander, whose eyes widened and hands over his mouth.

“(Y/N)? You like someone?” asked Alexander. You meekly nodded. “Who?” He was very curious. You couldn’t blame him; he was your closest guy friend, you confided in him all the time.

“Should I really tell?” You muttered to yourself. Then, now speaking to Hamilton, you looked up at him, saying, “I don’t know about this Alex, you won’t like my choice of who I’d like to give my heart.”

“It can’t be that bad, come on (Y/N).” He laughed, but stopped once he noticed it wasn’t of a joking matter.

You sighed. “You know, you’re going to get so mad at me, I hope you know that.” He nodded. You were fully aware of the consequences of telling him.

“It’s Aaron. Aaron Burr.”

“That fat mother—”

“Ah, ah, no Alexander! And don’t yell either!” You scolded the guy. He slumped down in the chair opposite of you, looking down for a little bit. “Look, it really doesn’t matter. He’s pining for Theodosia.”

“That’s extremely wrong though! Burr wanting a married woman, that’s, like, disgusting!” Alexander exclaimed.

You shook your head. “That’s me as well. I’m longing for a man who loves another woman.” You sighed. Wow, this was quite an outing; a record amount of sighing was occurring. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about this.”

“Look, I’ll talk to him about it. He should realize that there’s other fish in the sea.” You raised a brow at him. “Er, rather, more women in New York City than Theodosia.” You nodded in agreement.

“Thank you Alexander. You really are the best of friends anyone could ever have.” You stood and held him in an ephemeral embrace.

“Sure, anything for a friend.” You didn’t realize it, but there was a sad undertone to his voice. You only were focused on leaving, hugging Alexander again, packing up your things, and running out the door.

“Burr! We need to talk!” Alexander called out to his frenemy.

“No ‘Aaron Burr, sir’? How disappointing,” Aaron tsked, gathering his paperwork. “What do you need Alexander, I’m just finishing up collecting papers.”

“I need to talk to you about something, outside of the law,” Alexander hesitated, wondering if he should even go on.

“Go on.” Aaron motioned for Alexander to get the ball rolling.

“Let me just get to the point: Theodosia’s a married woman and you should move on from her.” Alexander saw Burr’s eyes widen and mouth open for flies to come in.

“Why the sudden change of attitude? Before, you hardly cared. Why now?” Burr asked, not even caring about the scattered documents.

“Doesn’t matter. I would just like to tell you there’s other women in the sea. In New York. Women who can love you with all of their heart. Someone who wants their heart to be held by yours.” Alexander finished his statement and began to walk out of Burr’s law office.

Aaron rushed over and grabbed the back of Alexander’s collar. “Why are you telling me this? I love Theodosia!”

“But does she love you?”

“(Y/N)!” Alexander caught up to you, his breath uneven. “I told him! I had to run away, he looked like he was gonna kill me!”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Why did I not stop you before? I should have never told you.” You shoved Alexander, walking some more. He easily caught up and kept walking side by side with you.

“Well, I gave him a piece of my mind. Would you rather me write him fifty-one essays on the subject at matter?” You shook your head. “No? Okay, that’s what I thought, thank you.”

“So Alexander set you up to this?” Aaron was on the brink of exploding, he had every right to be like that. Why did you think it would be a good idea to take a walk over to Aaron’s house and ask to talk to him? Your thought process was extremely brain dead at that moment in time.

Aaron was standing at the moment, almost hovering over you. You quivered as you sunk further into the vintage couch. He was so angry at you, you never knew you’d ever see a side to him like that. You would love to blame it on Alexander, but obviously that was wrong, you never stopped your best friend from doing what he did.

“No! I—” You tried to testify to the truth, but Aaron cut you off again.

“So you set Alexander up to telling me that there’s other girls in the sea?” His voice kept rising and rising, as did his temper.

“Yes—I mean no!” You shook your head. This was going extremely wrong, not at all like you hoped it would be. “Aaron, I never told Alexander to do any of this; I swear by my mother’s dead body.”

“Then, then how are you related to whatever Hamilton said?” Aaron was nearly at a loss for words at this point in time. “I-I don’t even understand any of whatever happened. Elaborate for me.”

“I-okay. I like, like, I, uh,” you gave up on talking, seeing it’d do you no good to continue.

“What? I don’t understand.” He looked straight into your eyes and you averted your gaze somewhere else.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, looking down at your lap as if something interesting lay upon it. “Nothing, nothing, nothing,” you said even quieter.

“Sweet Jesus,” he said under his breath, his head tilting up to look at the ceiling. He briefly took a second to shake his head there. “(Y/N)! Just tell me!” He looked back at you, continuing to hover over you, getting closer and closer. His eyes burning with flames of anger and frustration.

“I am in love with you, Aaron! Do you understand now? I am in love with you!” You looked away, biting your lip to help the tears welled up in your ducts to go away. You didn’t want to ever see anyone’s face ever again, especially Aaron’s. You were too embarrassed at your rash confession.

As you lifted yourself from the couch, Aaron’s hand pressed against the palm of your hand, pinning you down. He kissed you with more passion that you would ever know. Your eyes were saucers at one point, then your eyelids fluttered shut softly. Was it a kiss of lust or love?

Of course, you wouldn’t turn down this amazing of a kiss. Who in their right mind would reject a kiss from the person they loved? You returned it, molding your lips together as one.

“I-I,” Aaron paused to recompose himself after that life changing kiss. “I really do like you, (Y/N). Will you give me a chance? I’m sorry I never noticed you.”

“Of course, Aaron, of course.”


So, I thought, why not ruin make someone’s day with 3 minutes of beautiful devastation? hessofluffyyy, this one’s for you :)

I love this interview of Colin’s by his drama school because: 

(Read more if you dare)

1) It’s black and white, and makes Colin look EVEN BETTER (black hair, white skin? I’m in!) 

2) his accent’s thicker than usual 

3) pretty sweater/jumper 

4) just the right amount of scruff 

5) hair that nearly covers his eyebrows, and his ears (don’t think we don’t know you try to do that, Colin) 

6) flawless skin per usual 

 7) eyes! You can see his every eyelash and they are perfect 

8) he looks so much younger and that’s always awww-worthy 

9) he looks so much less tired than he’s looked of late 

10) should I even mention lips? OK, yes, just stare at them for a second… or two… Or the entire video. And the way he talks… I’m a writer and I still have no words to describe it. Like he’s trying to convince the camera to kiss him? I sound like a bad fanfic now, and I’m stopping all further thoughts of Colin and kissing in the same scenarios stat.

11) OK, should we move on to the actual video? I’ve had it paused at 0:07 all this time. First off, HE’S SO HAPPY to be talking about his old school. Clearly he has fond memories of the place :D 

12) he’s so smiley

13) so much positive attitude (at this point, we take this for granted with Colin, but do you realize how seriously hard it is to be positive and nice for as much of the time as he is??) 

14) all the philosophy on learning, all the philosophy on LIFE (I want to know who taught Colin all of it cos I want a lesson too) 

15) this screenshot of when I paused it to write more things perfectly sums up this entire video and what it does to me 

16) all the head bobs, “mmm’s” and “uhh’s” 

 17) how he pronounces “pond” (what is it with him pronouncing bodies of water in the most adorable way?) 

18) all the enunciating, from Mr. Mumbles himself, good job honey, also his voice is so smooth and low, low, low, low (OK let’s not desecrate Colin with bad song references Helen) 

19) who knew “theme” could be such a sexually frustrating word?? 

20) geeky laugh at “marble Archie,” and talking about the audience shouting at you, OK seriously, I need to come back to this list later while I go scream in a pillow at how cute you are 

21) (I’m back), the way he BLINKS, oh my god, why did I ever think this list would be a good idea? 

22) how he’s soo pleased to now be living his dream :D 


Editor’s note: Helen hopes you enjoyed the show, please gather all belongings on your way out and try to not leave important things like your melted brain behind. She apologizes for this not making it very far elevated above an appreciation of Colin physically, and for thoroughly derailing whatever you were trying to do before. :p


I found this old scientific illustration going through old arts today.  A scientific illustration I did in college. These skulls of a rhino,giraffe, and walrus are on display in the exhibit about Africa.  It’s such an awkward shape… I never know what to do with old artwork with awkward dimensions.

Edit: Good grief I have no idea how I missed this ridiculous mistake… That third skull is a hippo not a walrus. Why would I even type walrus?!? That’s pretty bad… Good thing I have smart followers that can correct me. Thanks @skinorskel for pointing that out. I was totally thinking hippo when I originally typed that but my brain is really uncooperative sometimes…