#IT GOT D O N E

[lionblaze03-2]

holy shit guys. My YouTube is ten years old now. I’ve been posting about these fucking cats for ten goddamn years straight. That’s HALF OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. I’ve spent half of my entire life on that god forsaken platform making videos about fucking kitty cats killing each other. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way 💖happy ten years me you did it. Still out there creating, always will. It’s been a crazy ten years. Here’s to ten more!

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x03 - Bye

[clownsuu]

I'll uhm, explain when it's finished. There is a lot I need to say so I guess this is a WIP I really wanted to share with you.

Did you know butterflies love blood?

STOP BEING SO COOL GUYS WHAT THE F U C K JDJSJJXISXJ

[qkmlh]

Still ducking hilarious to me that Zoro & Sanji began their beef because they thought the other was misogynistic and it came to a head of no return when Zoro felt his title of ‘Luffy’s specialest boi’ threatened by Sanji’s comment

[dr-demi-bee]

Day 8--------------------Read on AO3--------------------------

Pairing: Raphael/Tav Prompt: Orgasm delay/denial Continuation from Day 7, dubcon, rough, overstimulation, NSFW!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tav’s lost track of how long she’s been here. Minutes or hours, perhaps even days? A sickening swirl of red and gold - stained darker still with blood, sweat, tears...

Her skin is raw and aching in so many places - breasts, thighs, hips, sides - and the bitemarks at her neck and shoulders throb hotly. Yet he doesn’t seem satisfied.

And none of it - none of it - compares to the sharp pleasure-pain of the way Raphael endlessly teases and works her up only to snatch victory away from her at the last moment. The cambion seems intent on not only having her body, but prying away her mind and very soul too in the process.

For perhaps the third time, Raphael is dragging her to that rejuvenating pool. Dissatisfied with the way she looks covered in his possessive claw marks or her flagging fatigue she isn’t sure. Whatever the reason he takes a wicked delight in dunking her beneath the waters and letting her up, gasping for air, only when her lungs start to scream. And each time her body is perversely refreshed - free of injury to flesh.

Yet as he pulls her up from the water by her hair and she splutters a gasping breath, nothing - truly nothing - aches as keenly as the desperate throbbing of her core. Tav’s legs tremble with the force of it as he pushes her up the steps from the pool.

Raphael snaps his fingers and she is dry once more. Aside from the obvious slick that runs coats her inner thighs.

“On the bed, little mouse,” he drawls in that deep, menacing growl. And at this point she knows better than to disobey or fight back. Tav stumbles her way back to the large opulent bed, clambering on.

She scoots her way backward back into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed he’s been insisting on. Tav’s hands ache to touch herself - anything to ease this desperate aching. But he will just pry her hands away and make it worse. She’s already experienced this too many times. All she can do is hope he will actually take some kind of mercy as she watches him prowl across the room towards her.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Raphael croons with a wicked smirk. He practically preens as he approaches, eager to show off his form. “You look frightened.”

“I’m not,” she huffs back breathlessly.

“No,” he agrees almost mockingly, “Of course not. The would-be-hero would certainly never be afraid of a devil like me.”

Yet she still squeals when he grasps her by the ankles and yanks - dragging her down to the middle of the bed and closer to him.

“Have you learned your lesson yet, little mouse?”

At her perplexed look, trying to sort through the haze of her need and fear, Raphael tuts a disappointed sound against his teeth.

“Clearly not,” he muses, leaning over her. “And I’ve worked so hard to teach you. Truly, the depths of your ingratitude are astounding.”

His patronizing smile thins, quickly replaced with a menacing sneer. He pries Tav’s legs apart with large hands against her thighs and she gasps out a moaning cry.

“You’re supposed to apologize for breaking into my home uninvited,” Raphael instructs, as if reading the simple details of a contract, “And thank me for my gracious hospitality and ample kindness for forgiving your intrusion.”

Tav cries out sharply as his claws dig into the meat of her thighs. She whines when he shifts her so that her hips lay beneath his and the frightening length of him presses against her aching core. When she tries to move, to rock against him for any kind of relief, he growls and digs his claws in a little deeper.

“None of those sounds are correct, little mouse,” the cambion sneers. He leans in close, his tail lashing against the bed and his wings splaying as his mouth hovers close to her neck. When he speaks again it’s lower, near purring, “Care to try again?”

The feel of his breath ghosting over her skin and the echo of sensation from his last sharp bites makes her shiver with a soft whimper. Torturously, as she gathers her wits to speak, Raphael rolls his hips against hers, dragging the textured length of him against her oversensitive flesh.

“I-I’m sorry,” she breathes, fighting through whines, “T-thank you-”

The sound cuts off with a ragged moan as Raphael sheathes himself in her in one quick thrust. Tav throws her head back with a sharp keen.

“More specific, mouse,” he grits, their hips slapping together between each word. If she were any less aroused she knows it would hurt. Be he’s turned her into a quivering mess, and every snap of his hips throws sparks up her spine and her every breath is laced with a whimper or moan. “Why are you sorry?”

“S-sneaking!”

“And?” His pace is relentless and Tav feels nearly dizzy, barely able to pull her thoughts together.

“Lying!”

“Good girl,” Raphael growls. His hands shift, one set of clawed digits moving to play with a breast, and the other pressing against her mound. His own breathing grows labored as he continues, “What else, little mouse?”

“T-thank you-” Tav pants.

Raphael lets out a low growl of satisfaction as he continues his relentless thrusts. His thumb moves to press, just barely, against her clit. “Why, little mouse? What are you thanking me for?”

Tav’s keening, the touch too-little and too-much. Her body desperately needs relief, yet that abused bundle of nerves is too sensitive and she can’t decide if it’s excruciating or intoxicating.

“For-” Tav struggles, moaning as Raphael deliberately increases his pace and the pressure of his thumb as she tries to speak. “For fucking me-”

She’s so close. Her muscles are already starting to bunch and quiver, her toes curling. Just a little more, just a few more thrusts and flick of his thumb and she will-

“Wrong again, little mouse,” Raphael tuts. All at once the sensations stop again and she’s left cold and writing on the bed. Tears stream down her cheeks as another climax is snatched away from her.

“Such a slow learner,” he murmurs with a curling smile torn between wicked amusement and disdain. “Hard to believe you’ll ever make it out of this room, let alone to removing that little worm in your skull.”

“But perhaps that’s the problem, hm? Worm’s ruined that pretty little mind of yours?” He lets out a deep, self-satisfied laugh. Raphael catches her face in one large hand, swiping away at her tears with a perverse delight. Tav whines and cries out as his other hand explores her skin greedily, pulling none too gently and allowing his claws to leave scratches behind. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep trying until something sticks.”

@lanafofana @lastlight-inn @waterdeep-weavemoss

@crimson-and-lavender @feedthepheasants @spooky-lil-bee

[that-was-anticlimactic]

one small thing can be the biggest thing of all

Kenji was smacking his keyboard again.

Atsushi did his best not to look since he knew that just made Kenji feel bad, but it was hard to tear his gaze away from the constant thumping.

And it’s not that Atsushi was annoyed (okay, maybe he was just a little bit, but that wasn’t Kenji’s fault), no, he was just… concerned. He was used to hearing sounds from Kenji—chirping, clicking, random bursts of short screams… they all blended into the background and became normal to him.

The smacking was new, though.

[or, kenji has a new, painful tic, and atsushi wants to help]

🌱3,611 words | kenji & atsushi-centric🌱

happy tourette's awareness month!!!

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Wendy

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The bold beauty of Bowser's army and queen of our hearts, Wendy! Truly an icon for us all.

Right-handed.

All her clothes have pockets in them. She sewed them on herself, and after much pestering, she taught Roy how to do it as well.

A superb figure skater and rollerblader. She likes practicing on her own time and going out to a rink with Lemmy and Larry to have fun. Her coordination for moves is perfect.

She is one of the most organized generals out of all of them, and one of the most well-liked among the troops. Also they have some of the best color coordination.

She keeps a self-care journal. She originally did it out of spite, but now genuinely likes the thoughtfulness it provides.

She's allergic to nickel, so she's been finding a lot of her jewelry in titanium or gold.

Likes to bake! She has Iggy help her in the kitchen and has Larry as her taste tester, and often likes bribing exchanging favors with her brothers for their favorite treats. It partially paved the way for her donut business, too.

Speaking of which, HUGE sweet tooth, and likes all kinds of desserts, but little pastries are her favorite. Lemmy once made her macaroons after she had a bad day, and she was so touched she cried, and now the two of them make them together.

Favorite fruit is watermelon. Roy taught her how to spit the seeds out at people (much to Kamek’s disapproval), and now everyone stays a good ten feet away from her when she's eating them. Pomegranate and grapefruit are close behind.

Looooves the beach. Would spend all day there if she had the chance.

Runs a side hobby of trying and reviewing different beauty products, and when she got frustrated on how a lot of them are aimed at skin and not scales, launched her own line of cosmetics. She spearheaded quite a movement in the industry because of this.

She's a big seafood fan! Especially stuff you have to crack open, like shellfish, crabs, and clams. Free stress therapy.

Favorite candy is life savers, but she loves a lot of different kinds, particularly chocolate candies with fillings.

No one knows what her phone password is, not even her siblings. Attempts have been made to discover it. Those attempts have not ended well.

She's not what you would call a professional sketcher, but she's still a pretty decent fashion artist. She keeps a few sketchbooks in her room for designing new outfit ideas.

She swims whenever she needs to think or contemplate something; she says it's relaxing and helps her focus. If she's ever lost or can't be found, the first place her brothers check is a pool.

While not as involved with her siblings in the 'engineering' aspect of kart-making, when they started making their own businesses, she did want to do something related to it with design. After a bit of debate, she decided to focus on making the car look nice, not just run nice. And so, Wendy's Car Interiors was created.

She is allowed to tease her siblings and rough them up, because she has to stand the nonsense these boys put her through all day, every day. Other people do not have that privilege. She will make sure anyone who thinks otherwise is aware that they do not have that privilege.

Has two styles of handwriting: one that's cursive and sweeping for her own diary, and one that's a type of short-hand for when she needs to take notes.

She also happens to be the fastest writer of the seven. Ludwig is a little awed by it.

While her favorite way to spend time is through shopping, she's a surprisingly responsible credit card owner, balancing several at a time and always paying in-full on time. Her reward points amount is in the hundred-thousands.

Likes beach-reads! She goes through a lot of romance novels, but she can enjoy a good cozy mystery or contemporary at times. She likes reading before she goes to bed, too.

She’s fond of a lot of flowers, and certainly won’t say no to some unusually colored roses, but her absolute favorites are plumerias.

She doesn't play an instrument, but if she did, she'd pick either flute or harp.

Aside from Roy and Ludwig, one of her other siblings she's close with is Morton. He lets her practice different makeup color palettes on him, and they like to bond by getting skin treatments and having spa days together.

Not that she would tell anyone, but she does hold both a rivalry and begrudging admiration for Princess Peach and Princess Daisy.

Loves dragging the hell out of reality TV shows with Ludwig, but prefers to listen to talk-shows or beauty videos; they let her have something to listen to while she works on her designs, bakes, or does her routines.

She likes doing yoga as a way to relax, especially with Pom-Pom.

She's a schemer. All her siblings are, but, apart from Ludwig, she might be the most dangerous one out of all of them; she's not gonna stop at one prank. She's in it for the long-haul.

She doesn't remember it much, but apparently she had a very intense phase of bedazzling and glitter-ifying things when she was younger. Larry remembers this especially well because she somehow managed to bedazzle all of his game controllers in the span of one night. He's still not entirely sure how she did it.

When she was younger, she really wanted to be a ballerina, and took classes for it. It's become less of a dream now, but she still likes doing it. Lemmy likes to join her sometimes.

Likes keeping a to-do list, something she picked up from Ludwig. Only difference is that everything’s on her phone, since she always has it with her.

The best, perhaps out of all of them, at portal / teleportation magic, given her rings, as well as enchantment spells. She's also not too shabby at illusions, though hers are more focused on herself (rather than tricks and performances like Lemmy).

Her social media accounts are f l o u r i s h i n g, and swoon-worthy. Lots of beautiful pictures and her living her best life, along with promos for her businesses.

[deus-ex-mona]

real talk: lxl should continue to explore romance fantasy concepts in their songs. it’s clearly working for them~

[lalalaugenbrot]

Attempt at a Comprehensive List of

Alexander von Humboldtʼs Potential Boyfriends

When if not now that Alex came 2nd in the @napoleonic-sexyman-tournament (what a time to be alive) would be the perfect time to finally thoroughly pick his private life apart. Strangely it has always been a mystery even to me (and of course overall it will remain a mystery until the end of times), but I still thought it was about time to at least get some order in the few things that we do know – mainly for myself but also, I dare say, for the public. You (the public!) will find a short text for every friend under the cut ￬.

disclaimers:

a) I tried to pick the most appropriate picture of everyone but please imagine especially the first ones a lot younger than they are in the pictures

b) it’s a potential boyfriends list, meaning: I’m not saying Alex definitely had romantic and/or sexual relationships with any let alone all of these men, it’s just a list of men where it seems at least possible; but ultimately, of course, we do not know and will never know

c) Alex lived for almost 90 years, and even though his textual remains can seem infinite, there is a lot we don’t know about him, especially his private life, not least because he habitually destroyed almost all of his private letters (which is also why for all of his correspondences we only know the letters he wrote but almost never the ones he received) − so I don’t think there’s any way this list is exhaustive (let me know if you think anyone is missing?)

d) Bonpland is not in this because Alex went out of his way to specifically state that his relationship with Bonpland was purely scientific

e) the point of this post isn’t to determine his sexuality, but since it has already come up, just a couple of words on him being on the asexual spectrum: that is perfectly possible and maybe not even unlikely, he said things about himself that could be interpreted as such (not wanting to marry, not having sensual needs); but I think it’s good to keep two things in mind about that: 1. not wanting to get married was a big thing in 1800, something you had to explain yourself for and not wanting to get married as a man also obviously meant not wanting a wife, it was by no means a question on whether or not wanting a significant other and/or sex; 2. the narrative of his sex-less life at least partly derives from the (mainly 19th/20th century) wish for him not to have been (actively) homosexual

f) I hate to be that person, but it has to be said: language and culture back then were much more emotional and expressive than we are used to today, so not everything that sounds super intimate or even romantic to us (language-wise) has to actually have been meant that way; of course this doesn’t rule out anything either but it’s a thing to keep in mind

g) if anyone is interested in sources or further reading on anything particular, do not hesitate to hit me up! But i’m not adding any of that to this post because 1. it’s already 2 km long and 2. this is tumblr dot com

Wilhelm Gabriel Wegener (1767-1837)

18-year-old Alex met Wilhelm in 1787 during the one semester he studied at the University of Frankfurt (Oder). Wilhelm was a (protestant) theology student and on 13 February 1788 they made a “holy” oath to “eternal brotherly love”. They wrote each other very cheesy letters, very much in the Empfindsamkeit fashion of the time, proclaiming their eternal and ever-growing love for each other. There was no one on earth, Alex wrote to him once (and in Italian no less), whom he loved as ardently as him (“Non vi è uomo sopra la terra ch'io amì così ardammente che lei…”). He also told him that, ever since he had met him, it seemed to him that God had created people only in pairs, because no one else could ever compare to what he meant to him. In his letters Alex also repeatedly refers to the many hours spent together (“chatting”) in a certain armchair in Frankfurt and proclaims that he has never been happier than in that very chair.

They kept contact for a couple of years after their time in Frankfurt, but at some point their friendship faded out.

Carl Ludwig Willdenow (1765-1812)

Willdenow (a published botanist) and Alex met in 1788 in Berlin, when Alex had one day decided to just call at his house to ask him to teach him botany. Willdenow agreed and they became friends quickly, spent a lot of time together, and when Alex wandered through Berlin on his own to collect plants, he would afterwards bring them to Willdenow who would then identify them for him.

We do not know a lot about their friendship during that time (and maybe I only included him in this because I needed 9 tiles) but at least one phrase in Alex’s autobiography fragment calls our attention, not least because it’s highlighted by what I like to call a Streisand strike-through: “I became enthusiastically fond of him” or “I grew to love him enthusiastically” (“Ich gewann ihn enthusiatisch lieb”, written in 1801 and crossed out roughly 50 years later).

They stayed in contact even after Alex had left Berlin a couple of months later: in 1795 Alex became godfather of Willdenow’s son and in 1810 he convinced him to come to Paris to work on his botanical collections from the South America trip. Sadly, Willdenow fell ill in 1811 and died in 1812 in Berlin.

Karl Freiesleben (1774-1846)

Alex met Karl in 1791 in Freiberg, where both studied geology and mining at the renowned Bergakademie. Karl was the son of a local mining family and Alex learnt a lot from him about his new profession. They both were nerdy about stones and minerals in ways you couldn’t even begin to imagine. They gifted each other minerals, went down into the mines together, and in August 1791 they made a 200 km long geological expedition through the mountains of Bohemia on foot. But aside from pages-long enthusiastic rants about geology, Alex’s letters to Karl are also full of sentimental love declarations. He called him Herzens-Freisesleben, Herzens-Karl or Herzensjunge (roughly “my heart’s Freiesleben/Karl/boy”) and once finished a letter with: “going to bed now and I’ll be happy when I dream of you” — a passage Karl thoroughly struck through later, probably so no one else could read it, but someone deciphered almost all the struck through passages anyway (not all heroes wear capes!).

Karl and Alex stayed (sporadic and long-distance) friends for the rest of Karl’s life.

Reinhard von Haeften (1772-1803)

The above picture shows a snippet from one of Alex’s travel journals where he noted Reinhard’s birthday (“14 Mai R.”) because sadly we don’t have a picture of Reinhard. But let’s hear how Alex described him:

“This Reinhard v. Haeften has been my only and hourly company for a year now. I live with him, he visits me in the mountains. [...] I have already ridden 8 miles [60 km] just to see him for a couple of hours. He is very tall, taller than most men and he’s only 22 years old but looks more mature than me [at 25]. He has a very remarkable face and everyone finds him to be one of the most beautiful men, and I too think he’s beautiful, but most importantly I have never seen purity of the soul, kindness and courtesy being reflected in anyone’s features as much as in his.”

Alex and Reinhard met in 1793 in Bayreuth (where Alex now worked as a mining official) and they quickly moved in together. However, shortly before meeting Alex, Reinhard had also managed to make a baby with a married woman 4 years older than him. Alex was friendly with Christiane, the child’s mother and helped to keep the birth a secret. The boy (named Friedrich Gustav Alexander, Alex’s godson and surely named after him) had to spend the first years away from his parents. In the meantime, Reinhard continued to live with Alex, accompanied him on business trips and mineralogical expeditions and in 1795 they went on a two-month trip through Northern Italy and Switzerland. It was only with and through him, Alex wrote to Reinhard once, that he could live, only close to him that he could be fully happy.

Later, after Reinhard and Christiane had finally gotten married (and reunited with their son), Alex wrote him a very long letter, proposing for the three of them to (continue to?) live together with Reinhard as head of the family and to settle for quiet life in Switzerland, Italy, or some small town in the west of Germany. That plan never worked out, but “Rein” (as Alex called him), Christiane, their by now two children and Alex lived and travelled together for another two years while Alex was already preparing for his big journey.

After he had sailed for the Americas in 1799, he tried his best to stay in contact with them. In his letters, he called them his “Herzensmenschen” (again, roughly: “his heart’s humans”), wrote them that he was dreaming about them day and night and how much he wished that his – their – Rein could be with him to see all the marvels, too. But cross-atlantic communication was bad during that time and in both directions most letters never arrived.

Sadly, Reinhard unexpectedly died in 1803 while Alex was still in America, meaning they never got to meet again. Alex stayed in contact with Christiane and the children − the only survivors of the shipwreck, as he put it − and wrote Christiane how he still remembered their time together, along with all the hopes and dreams that they had had and that despite the “all-robbing fate”, there was something unalterable in the depth of their love, that could only die with them. When Christiane remarried and had another son in 1806, she named him Gustave Louis Reinhard Alexandre. Alex continued to financially support Christiane and the children and in 1813, Reinhard’s son Fritz (Alex’s godson) visited Alex in Paris for three months.

Carlos Montúfar (1780-1816)

Alex met Carlos in 1802 in Quito and despite him having no scientific qualifications whatsoever, Alex chose Carlos to accompany him on his further journey. This decision offended botanist, geographer and astronomer Francisco José de Caldas (who himself had hoped to join the expedition) so much that he, in a letter to botanist José Celestino Mutis, famously called Carlos “[señor Barón de Humboldt’s] Adonis”, probably insinuating that Alex had picked Carlos purely for his looks, or even more.

Together with the rest of the party, Alex and his supposed “Adonis” travelled what today is Ecuador (where they climbed the Chimborazo), Peru, Mexico, Cuba and the USA. At least once during that journey (but perhaps regularly?) they shared a bed (as in some kind of temporary/mobile  accomodation) which we know because Alex explicitly says so in his travel journal when he describes a night in which Carlos had very bad stomach cramps which Alex tried to ease by heating handkerchiefs over the fire for him in the middle of the night.

Carlos accompanied Alex back to Europe in 1804 and stayed with him in Paris for a couple of months (where they most likely both attended Napoleon’s coronation) until he ultimately left to go to Madrid. But since Carlos had trouble getting money from South America, he still had to rely on Alex’s support. However, over time his contact to Alex seems to have broken off, because in a letter from 1806, Carlos complained about Alex not answering him anymore (“¡Qué largo silencio!”) and then told him, quite dramatically, that he was running out of money, and that he, Alex, was his only friend, his only hope, and the only person he knew in Europe who could tell him what to do. Whether all of Alex’s letters had gotten lost in the mail and whether Alex ended up helping him out or not, I think we don’t know. (But knowing him as I do and since he after all kept that letter, I’m sure that he did.)

Later, Carlos went back to South America, where he (alongside Símon Bolívar) fought to liberate the continent from the Spanish Crown − a fight he unfortunately didn’t survive: he was captured and executed by the Spanish in 1816.

Joseph Louis Gay-Lussac (1778-1850)

Alex and Gay (that’s what Alex called him, no pun intended) first met in 1804 in Paris, just after Alex’s return from America. Before, Gay had done two things: 1. contributed to a harsh critique on one of Alex’s papers, 2. ascended 7016 m in a hot-air balloon to investigate the air up there − a world record at the time and more than 1000 m higher than Alex had been on the Chimborazo, which had then also been a world record (in recorded European history).

Evidently, these were the best conditions for them to totally hit it off: they almost immediately started to work on the evaluation of Gay’s balloon ascent and often spent entire days working together in Gay’s room, from 9 am until after midnight. In a letter to his father, Gay wrote that Alex was the man with the best heart he had ever known, that their tastes and sentiments were absolutely the same − and that their hearts felt a great need to see each other very often.

After the publication of their paper (in which they, without fully realising it, also first identified the chemical composition of water: H2O), they (and another friend) went on a six-month field trip through Switzerland and Italy − where they were lucky enough to witness both an earthquake and a resulting Vesuvius eruption. They ended their journey in Berlin where Gay stayed at Alex’s for a couple of months and even started to learn German until he unexpectedly had to leave for Paris. His absence, Alex wrote after Gay had left, pained him a lot.

When Alex finally returned to Paris as well, they shared a single room at the École Polytechnique and even after Gay became a father in 1808 and married in 1809, Alex continued to (at least occasionaly) live with his family for many years. Gay’s first son (born in 1810) was named Jules Alexandre and while I have no proof that he was named after Alex, I think it’s safe to assume. Alex seems to have also been very intimately integrated into the family life, because he once wrote to Willdenow (with a humorous undertone of course): “We are always pregnant and just had a girl again. Right now we’re not feeling anything though.” Alex was also there to help when an explosion in a laboratory accident injured Gay’s eyes so badly that Alex and another friend had to take him home in a blindfold.

No letters between the two have survived (that we know of), but we do know that in the years after they first met, Alex considered Gay his best friend and “one of the kindest beings in the world”, that he named an American plant genus after him (Gaylussacia), and that they used “tu” with each other (which was very uncommon in France at the time except for childhood friends and family). They stayed friends for the rest of their lives and formed a kind of trio with Arago (see below).

Karl von Steuben (1788-1856)

We don’t know when exactly they first met but according to Alex they started to see each other daily in 1812 at the studio of painter François Gérard, where Alex had then started to take drawing lessons. Steuben, a young aspiring artist, lived and worked at Gérard’s studio. According to Alex, they “drew and painted” together “daily” for at least one or two years. Withdrawn from all other society, he wrote, this was now his “only joy” (interestingly almost the exact same wording he had used to describe his relationship with Reinhard 20 years earlier). However, it had perhaps been one of Alex’s exaggerations because he at least seems to have attended the famous salons Gérard held at his studio, where all the cool Paris people came to hang out. Alex reportedly talked incessantly, stayed late into the night (the main thing usually didn’t get going until midnight) and was found there again, freshly dressed and shaved, already at 7 in the morning.

In the meantime, Alex had started to torment basically everyone around him to commission Steuben to paint them, their sons, daughters, fiancés etc. to help Steuben support his poor mother in St. Petersburg. In 1814, even Alex’s brother noted that Alex had suddenly become strangely interested in art. In the same year, Alex became godfather to Steuben’s newborn son Alexander.

However, the biggest commission Alex got Steuben was a life-sized full-body painting of himself, which he intended to gift to his sister-in-law. It took 7 years to finish and in the end Alex’s brother had to pay for transport and framing because Alex had run out of money. Neither his brother nor his sister-in-law were overly enthusiastic about the likeness of the painting or Steuben’s talent in general but they still put it up in their home because after all, as his brother put it, they loved Alex and always liked a picture of him around.

Alex and Steuben stayed in at least loose contact for many years and Alex occasionally even still tried to get him commissions. Steuben’s painting of Alex hung in the Humboldt residence in Tegel for over a century before it was ultimately destroyed in WWII. Apparently though, another Alex portrait by Steuben from 1815 still exists in a private collection somewhere.

François Arago (1786-1853)

Arago, a young astronomer, was on a scientific expedition through Spain when he got entangled in the Peninsular War: mistaken for a French spy, he got arrested and incarcerated, managed to flee, was captured again, transferred, released, drifted off at sea to Algeria, all the while managing to hold on to his most valuable possession: his scientific records, which he kept hidden under his shirt at all times. When Alex heard about this (the two had never met before), he was so impressed by his courage and determination that he sent a letter to congratulate him — and to offer him his friendship. And in fact, one of the first things Arago did when he finally returned to Paris in 1809 was to go and meet Alex. It was the beginning of a 44-year-long friendship. They saw each other almost daily, worked together at the observatory, planned an expedition to Tibet (which never happened), and actually travelled at least to London in 1817 to visit Alex’s brother, who commented to his wife: “Alexander has arrived yesterday. But he isn't staying with me, even though his room had already been prepared. You know his passion to always be with one person who is his favourite at that time. Now he has the astronomer Arago who he doesn't want to part with (...) So they're staying at a nearby inn.” Just as with Gay, Alex and Arago used “tu” with each other and after Arago had gotten married in 1811, Alex was close with his wife and children as well as with his siblings, nieces and nephews — in some letters he even considered himself part of the Arago family.

When Alex was forced to move back to Berlin in 1827 to work for the king, he wrote Arago desperate letters on how much their separation pained him, how much he missed him every hour of every day. In the following 26 years, Alex’s letters to him were full of yearning pleas for just a couple of lines of his hand, which, as he wrote, always made his heart flutter. However, Arago often didn’t respond for months, but when he did, he at least knew to reassure Alex, writing things like: “Outside my family, you are, without any comparison, the person I love most tenderly in this world.” Alex kept a portrait and a large Arago bust in his study in Berlin, and until his late seventies, he travelled to Paris regularly (that is, every few years), first and foremost to see Arago. (Actual quote from 78-year-old Alex in a letter to his niece: “Every morning at half past eight without interruption, I’ve been at Arago’s in the observatory, today for the 62nd time.”) According to Arago, he and Alex have only been angry with each other one single time in all those decades and even that went over in an instant.

They saw each other for the last time in January 1848, on the last night of Alex’s last stay in Paris. When Arago fell ill five years later, his family informed Alex of his worsening condition — but Alex couldn’t travel to Paris to see him one last time. Even over a year after Arago’s death, Alex wrote that the memory of those last moments in January 1848 vividly came back to him during the night at least once a week. He outlived his friend by 6 years.

[nero-neptune]

shout out to this movie for teaching me how to spell words that i've never found the opportunity to use in real life lol

[petrichormore]

also hey wait a minute I don’t think people are talking enough about how Ron said they forgive Bad.

For kidnapping and torturing them.

What.

This weird ass lima syndrome thing Bad’s got going on is starting to go both ways. We should Pay Attention to That.

[pastelaspirations]

Dear people in my dreams who are about to interrupt me when I am watching an Errorink video/comic dub... Don't. Stop. Turn right back around and do n o t do it-

You don't understand, okay. I can't just. Hit play and continue right where I left off. If you interrupt me, that video is gone. V a n i s h e d. DISINTEGRATED INTO MERE FIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION, DISAPPEARING INTO THE FAR RECESSES OF MY MIND, NEVER TO BE SEEN A G A I N

So. Dream people. Please do not interrupt me when I am engaging with my favorite gay skelliebones, alright. It is quite literally impossible for me to ever find and engage with that video, comic dub, piece of art, or whatever the hell it was, because it's a figment of my imagination and I am physically unable to conjure it back up if interrupted-

[1nt3rnalpu7ref4ct10n]

s1e9

[xylophxn]

The inside of my brain is just the trail to oregon on repeat.

[zaynes-left-chesticle]

Despite my anger at this game (mainly just the Deepspace Trials lol)... I just want to say I cherish you, Love and Deepspace. You're amazing and I appreciate all that you've given us and I promise I will never say anything bad about you again as long as you just

BRING MY POOL BOY HOME

[svtskneecaps]

friends and fiends if this truly spells the Over for the qsmp i may let the brainworms that have been festering in me for MONTHS--A YEAR, EVEN--win.

i may summarize the goddamn fucking lore.