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[ID: A digital drawing of a bust of a light blue wolf and furry like animal. It has pink spots shaped like clouds that reach out of its body. The clouds were colored on paper and pasted in, giving it a textured look. Its eyes are pink and closed, forming tear drop shapes. The back ground is a higher blue with dark pink squiggly stripes. End ID]
First Artfight attack :D this is Celeste for @tereszi <3
tendermen sideblog? 👀 gosh i love those three so muchhhh
yes.... here u go.... @tendermen-llc 😔💕 it’s also pretty much just a silly little polyam sideblog at this point honestly smhhh
lup headcanon: she has the best smile in the world and she is fat and has short curly hair and tan skin and shes so pretty and i love her. this has been lup love hour
We love her
I AM OUT OF THE LOOP where did ppl hear that pat is doing an unraveled ep?? this is everything i ever wanted in my life?? i was just thinking about how amazing that would be earlier and now i am seeing posts about this ??!!
Pat did a stream today (which I had to miss because of finals/homework overload rip) where he said he’ll be writing an episode for season 2! He won’t actually be on screen, but I’m super excited to see how it turns out
how are you finding the content thats not on the website page? i dont know how to do all that stuff skdfjghsf
okay apparently it’s all been taken down now (probably because it was seriously very racist and anti-semitic, oh my god)
but for future reference if you’re on google chrome and right click anywhere on a webpage, click “view page source” on the drop-down menu that appears and it’ll take you where you want to go.
"Everything about your life makes so much sense now.” with hamburr? :0c
It wasn’t supposed to happen. Aaron knew it wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be here, wasn’t meant to be the one to walk in on Alexander hunched over a trashcan in the corner of his office late on a Thursday night.
Aaron had forgotten his coat - it had happened before, the convenient hook by the door too easy to forget to go back to when the evening air was still warm. He would have left it, he’d done it before, but he was taking it to get dry cleaned the next morning and if he didn’t grab it now it would remain filthy for an indefinite amount of time.
He had shut his door behind him, his coat thrown over his arm, when he heard a faint sound. No one else was supposed to be here.
Aaron took a cautious step down the hall toward the sound, all too aware of the thousands of ways this could go wrong. It’d be better to leave it for the next morning, but there was something in him that kept pushing him forward no matter how much his brain was yelling at him to leave and forget about it.
It was coming from Alexander’s office, and Aaron’s worry grew when he turned the handle and found it unlocked. Alexander was known to work late but this…this was ridiculous. He pushed the door open the slightest bit and cleared his throat to announce his presence - the sound was gone now, heavy breathing in its place.
There was a low moan in response, and Aaron opened the door the rest of the way. He made a low sound of surprise when he saw Alexander kneeling on the floor, hanging onto his trash can for dear life.
He had expected to find Alexander fucking some cleaning woman over his desk before he had expected this.
Aaron set the coat down on one of the chairs and rushed forward, moving to kneel at Alexander’s side.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice down. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call Eliza? Take you to the hospital? What are you doing here anyway?”
Alexander looked up, face pale and eyes glassy, and said, “Burr, what are you doing here? I think that’s the better question.”
Aaron nodded his head toward the coat on the chair. “I forgot my jacket,” he said. He brought his hand up to the space between Alexander’s shoulders and began to rub in a soothing motion. “What happened? Do you think you can make it home?”
Instead of answering, Alexander groaned and bent over the trashcan again. A moment later, he looked up and wiped his hand on his sleeve. Aaron couldn’t keep back his grimace and Alexander snorted.
“It shouldn’t last much longer,” Alexander said. “It was a late dinner, is all. I would have gone home, but I needed to finish something up. Figured I’d be able to make it home before it set in. I was wrong.”
“Food poisoning?” Aaron asked, still rubbing Alexander’s back.
Alexander shook his head. “Shellfish allergy,” he said.
“Why did you eat shellfish if you know you’re allergic to it?” Aaron couldn’t quite keep the judgmental tone from his voice, but considering the circumstances he thought it forgivable.
“Dinner with Washington and Jefferson,” Alexander said. “Seafood restaurant. Jefferson ordered oysters, made some comment about how he could teach me to eat them if I needed.”
“You-you ate something that you’re allergic to to prove Jefferson wrong?” Aaron asked, tone incredulous.
Alexander narrowed his eyes. “What about it?”
Aaron sighed. “Everything about your life makes so much sense now.”
“Thanks,” Alexander said. A moment passed and he relaxed a little bit, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “I think most of it’s past now. You caught the end of it.”
“Alright.” Aaron nodded. He stood up. “How about you take care of that-” he pointed to the trashcan- “and I’ll go get you some water to drink and we’ll get you home?”
“Fine,” Alexander said. “Thanks, Burr.”
Aaron shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
// what the fuck sentence starters // ko-fi
i assume ur gay and the best bf in the entire world
this is super gay <3
“I never thought I’d be so happy to see you.” with hamburr? :D
hey this got out of fucking control
Burrcomes to in an ambulance and for a moment there is only wild confusion, likewaking into someone else’s dream, and then the pain hits. He can’t even tellwhere it originates, only that it’s there,a savage, snarling thing in his chest, his stomach, his legs, his head,everywhere. There’s a noise, a wounded animal’s keen, and it takes Burr amoment before he realizes the noise is coming from him. Shit.
“He’scoming to. Aaron, can you hear me? Aaron?”
Avoice, somewhere above him, and Burr tries to turn his head, to look, but themotion – the thought of the motion – sends more pain through his body.
“We’realmost there, buddy. Almost there.”
**
Burrcomes to again in a hospital bed with an IV drip in his arm and whatever’s inthe IV is the best thing ever, because he’s floating above the pain, now. Heopens his eyes – they feel heavy, gritty - and looks around. There’s a gentlebeep of a heart rate monitor, and movement beyond his bed’s curtains, voices.He looks down, sees his leg in a cast that goes up to his knee. Something’swrapped around his ribs, too, and Burr can’t breathe too deeply. He’s in some god-awfulflimsy robe, and his binder’s gone, and the curtains around his bed flutter,insincere walls.
Thebeeps of the heart rate monitor increase as Burr shifts ever-so-cautiously,trying to move, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on –
“Knockknock,” says a voice outside the curtain, and then it shifts before Burr hastime to respond. A nurse bustles in, dressed in Winnie the Pooh scrubs. Burrmight have made some wry comment, considering the nurse in question was easilysix feet tall and could probably bench press Burr, but given the circumstances(him, helpless in a bed and seriously fucked up; the nurse, none of thosethings).
“I’mHercules. How’re we feeling, Aaron?”
“Better,”Burr croaks, then adds, “nice scrubs.”
“TheBambi pair were in the wash,” says Hercules, and laughs at his own joke, andthe laugh is genuine enough that Burr almost smiles.“What happened to me?” Burr asks as Hercules wraps a blood pressure cuff aroundhis arm, makes some note on a chart.
“Caraccident. Not your fault. The doctor will be around soon, he’ll talk more aboutwhat happened.”
Herculestakes Burr’s temperature, asks him a few simple questions (when’s yourbirthday, what’s 2 plus 7, who’s the current president of the United States;Burr only hesitates on the last one because no matter how often he has to sayit, it still feels like some sort of cosmic joke).
”Allright Aaron, Dr. Hamilton will be with you shortly,” Hercules says, fussingwith Burr’s covers and then slipping back out of the curtains.
**
Burr’salmost asleep when he hears the clatter of the curtain drawing open again, andin comes the doctor, balancing a chart and a coffee cup the size of his head.Burr squints at the doctor as he puts the cup on a small wheeled stand.Something about the doctor’s hair, unkempt even in its ponytail, the eyes…whatwas his name? Hercules had said…
Dr. Hamilton.
Isit?
“Hello,I’m Dr. Hamilton, we’re gonna get you fixed…” the doctor trails off, and Burralmost laughs.
“Inever thought I’d be so happy to see you, Alex,” Burr says. Hamilton blinks fora second, and then the recognition dawns.
“Wellfuck me,” says Hamilton, and Burr bites his tongue to keep from saying, I would have, if you’d ever called me.
“Soyou’re a doctor now,” he says instead, a bit stupid, because, well, obviously.
“ThatI am,” Hamilton says, and begins to examine Burr’s leg, flips the sheets backto look at his ribs. Burr watches his fingers move across the bandages and canfeel the slightest pressure there. He grits his teeth and looks away.
“AmI hurting you?” Hamilton asks.
“No,I just…hate these fucking gowns. No privacy.”
“SorryAaron. Can’t do much about the gowns, but we’ll get you in a room soon.”
Hamiltondraws back, replaces the covers, and makes another note on his chart.
“Howbad is it?’ Burr asks.
“Notas bad as it looks. You broke your fibula and a couple of ribs in the wreck. You’llbe off your feet for a month or more, unfortunately. The ribs will heal upfaster. Could have been a lot worse.”
“Isthe other driver…?”
“He’sgot a concussion, and is scraped up, but otherwise fine. Drunk off his assthough, but you know the saying: god looks after fools, drunks, and children.Police are talking to him now.”
**
Burrproves adept at handling pain, and soon his painkiller intake is reduced. Thenight before he’s set to be released he can’t sleep so he stays up watching 30Rock reruns, volume so low he can barely hear the jokes. There’s a soft knockon his door and Hamilton slips in.
“Everythingokay?” Burr asks, suddenly convinced Hamilton’s here to tell him they’ve foundsomething horrible in the latest round of tests, so horrible he needs to tellthis to Burr at 1 AM.
“Yeah,fine. I’m off duty now. Just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Doingfine.”
“You’vegot your physical therapy appointments set up?”
“Yes.First one is Wednesday.”
“Withwho?”
“AngelicaSchuyler.”
Hamiltonlaughs.
“Angelicawill kick your ass into walking shape in no time. Tell her I said hi.”
“Willdo.”
Silence,save for the low drone of the TV. Hamilton shifts, nervous.
“Ilost your number, you know,” he says, “I was drunk, and my dumb ass lost it. Iasked around at the bar but no one really knew you. I looked for you onFacebook too, couldn’t find you.”
“It’sfine,” Burr says.
“Ithought about you a lot. Most people don’t call me out on my shit. You didn’teven know me, and you did.”
Burr’squiet. He’s thought about the night a lot too, more than he should have. Ithadn’t been much – drinking, talking about…well, everything, more drinking, a makeout session in the alley that had left Burr dizzy – but in the silent weeksafterward Burr wondered what they could have been. Wondered why Hamilton hadn’tcalled, wondered if him being trans had spooked Hamilton (he hadn’t seemed shitty, but Burr had seen plenty of guys react in plenty of ways, plenty of them shitty). Wondered why he hadn’t gotten Hamilton’s damn number himself.
“Justthought you should know,” says Hamilton, “and, well, if you’re still giving outyour number…”
“IfI give you my number,” Burr says, “will you let me go to sleep?”
“Deal.”
Hamiltonpulls out his phone and Burr recites the number. His phone dings as Hamiltontexts him.
“Nowyou’re got mine, too.”
Burradds the number to his phone.
“Goodnight,Aaron.”
“Goodnight,Alex.”
**
Sallyarrives the next morning to pick him up. Burr’s in a wheelchair until he canget approval for a stability boot, and it’s awkward going. Another doctor – notHamilton, Hamilton’s off – reviews Burr’s paperwork a final time, going over symptomsto be aware of, possible interactions between his painkillers and histestosterone. Burr promises he’ll call at the slightest sign of any negativeinteraction.
Herculeswheels him out to the curb where Sally’s car sits waiting, helps him into thepassenger side door. Today’s scrubs are Bambi, and Burr wonders where, exactly,Hercules finds these.
“Drivesafe,” Hercules says, and Sally starts the car, merges out on to the road, andthe hospital disappears behind them. Burr’s phone buzzes.
Discharge gookay?
Hetexts back, Yeah, everything went fine.
Hamiltontexts back about six grinning emojis and a thumbs up.
**
Burr’sback home, settled in a chair with his laptop when his phone rings, the name Alexander Hamilton flashing across thehome screen. Burr picks up.
“Hello?”
“Imiss you.”
“I’msorry, who is this?”
“Asshole.”
“Assholewho?”
“Goddamnit, Aaron.”
“Sorry.Hi, Alex.”
“Hi.”
“How’sthe leg?”
“Itchy,but not too bad. I’ve got a good setup here.”
“That’sgood.”
Apause. Burr can hear Hamilton’s breathing, ever so soft. His heart beats just abit faster.
“SoAaron. Now that you’re no longer my patient, I’d like to take you out.Somewhere nicer than that gross bar. Cloth napkins nice.”
“Ooo,aren’t we fancy?”
“Ithink a redo is in order. Except, we do everything better. Nicer place. Quieter.What do you say?”
Burrgrins.
“It’sa date.”
