#i don't want to be that guy lmfao

[pinkcadavart]

You can tell I don't like drawing the other eye lmao

[arsgoeteia]

yeah.

[utaicon]

Is it okay if I say I like it?

2024 new years headers・★

For @sekaitransparents 1000 followers event (prompt 6: old or new)・★

Free to use, please reblog and credit if using!・★

[skitskatdacat63]

Some quotes from the commentators that made me burst into tears:

"That was wonderful stuff from Fernando Alonso, and you thought, once Perez gets by, "Goodnight." Perez waited, deployed it well. The problem was you're talking about one of the Greats in Formula 1 history. "Two-time champion" doesn't begin to tell you how good Fernando Alonso is...Brilliant stuff, really great work from Fernando Alonso, holding on in what definitely, undoubtedly, is the inferior car.

"It [DOTD] should've been Alonso, shouldn't it?"

"Fernando Alonso, it doesn't matter how many days old, years old, he is, the amount of Grand Prix he's run, he is so crafty, he is so wily. He is such a good wheel-to-wheel racer. To hold out with the inferior car against that kind of pressure for so long? Absolutely incredible.

"You might get past Fernando Alonso, but you might not stay ahead."

"Fernando Alonso fought like a lion out there!

[finnpeach]

Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!” 

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow. 

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring. 

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries.  “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark. 

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames. 

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately. 

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.” 

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back. 

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”

[superfruitland]

today's mood

[spicedrobot]

Boba Fett and Greedo both work for Darth Vader. When Boba is sent off on an extended solo mission, Greedo learns more about his boss's eccentricities... and his own.

At first, Greedo thought that Imperial vessels just ran colder than usual. Though he hadn’t been on many, mostly just this one. And what a ship it was: a Venator-class Star Destroyer, housing thousands of occupants. Not just any old Imps either, but important ones, the kind they bragged about on Empire Day transmissions. But the issue wasn’t as simple as dialing back a control on a climate system, and it wasn’t like he could even access such things on a ship as big as this, barring the one in his own room. And it was only ever too cold when he was on the chrono. One moment, the temperature would be perfectly pleasant. The next, Greedo could see his own breath in front of his snout. 

It’s him, Greedo realized, after a few cycles of this strange incident repeating. It’s Lord Vader. 

Read on ao3

[viveela]

do you ship stendy?

I'd been meaning to bring this up at some point actually: the answer is nope.

I love both characters individually sm but together I just am not a fan. It's hard to explain but to me whenever I see them I personally feel they don't work especially on Stan's part. To me, it feels like they stick together since it's all they know atp

I prefer them as friends and I really think they work so much better that way too, the episode 'the list' comes to mind when I think about that

[mymarifae]

i keep going pretty quiet and inactive over here... wehh consequences of spending time on your private twitter... hi my tumblr friends i miss you i have no idea what any of you have been up to but i hope you're well 💗

[something-about-sunflowers]

Ooooooohhhhhhh now I’m thinking of an Izzy with an Ella Enchanted style curse on him hhhhhhhhhh

Read-more cause this got away from me lmfao

He keeps it fairly under wraps for most of his life, sets out to sea at twelve, gets picked up by a press gang at seventeen. He manages, its  expected, for a sailor to follow orders on a navy ship, after all (of course ‘no’ isn't an option available to him anyway).

They get boarded by pirates when he's about twenty one and he’s taken on as part of their crew, the captain is after crew more than loot, tells him he should join (saying ‘no’ would have just had him killed, and he's doing his very best to live).

Some time after, he's nearing twenty five, they’re raided by another ship, the Ranger. Benjamin Hornigold likes a ruthless sailor (a ruthless pirate) and Israel Hands has never allowed himself to be anything but. He decides he wants to keep this one. He offers, Izzy accepts. Ben tells him to kill his former captain (wouldn’t have said ‘no’ even if he could have, the man was a bastard).

He earns a reputation of being kind of a kiss-ass, he doesn’t really mind, it keeps most people from asking questions. But Ben’s got his pet projects Edward Teach and John ‘Jack’ Rackham and they’re both too sharp for their own good (though, Jack is better at playing dumb). They notice its not just Captain’s orders he follows to the letter, but everyone’s. They test him, subtly at first, but eventually they show their hand. Tell him that they know there’s more to Izzy’s obedience than he lets on.

He’s terrified for how they might use this against him (the usual ways, which most men abused without even knowing about his curse, easier, safer to let them think he wanted it) but they tell him they don’t want to take his agency from him like that. They offer to help him. He’s not sure whether to trust it (he knows, by rights, he shouldn’t) but he can’t say ‘no’ to ‘trust us, let us help’ (whether Edward is aware of the command, Izzy will never know, decades later Edward doesn’t even remember what he said to convince him).

So they stick by him, as best they can, if someone gives an order he doesn’t want to follow they’ll tell him, quietly as they can, not to. It works, for the most part. Though eventually, Ben notices Izzy’s not quite as obedient anymore (though he still never says ‘no’ to his captain’s orders). He doesn’t like that. He notices Izzy’s been spending more time around Teach and Rackham, decides they’re bad influences (he intends them to captain other ships in his fleet, they’re allowed to push back on orders, Izzy will never have a command of his own, he is not). He separates them. Puts Teach and Rackham on the Marianne with the flimsy excuse of ‘getting practice in’. (he sees them off with Izzy at his side, a claiming hand on his shoulder, Ed and Jack aren't sure how they manage it, but they don't try to kill him right then and there) They now only ever see each other when they all make port. Its a trying few months (for Ed and Jack, for Izzy. . .).

They meet at port one last time (apart, at least). Edward has a plan. They’re going to mutiny. They’ve been stirring the pot on the Marianne (whispers had already started before they got there, not too many of the crew were happy to miss out on loot just because Ol’ Ben had an apparent soft spot for the Crown). He presses his knife into Izzy's hands. Tells him, back on the ship, when everyone else is asleep, he’s to slip into the captain’s cabin and kill Ben, in his sleep, so he can’t order him to stop (Izzy is never sure if he would have said ‘no’ to that unintentional order, had he been able).

The mutiny goes off without a hitch (Ben wakes when the knife plunges into his throat, but he can’t give orders around the steel and the blood that choke him). Edward makes Izzy his first mate, gives Jack the Marianne. He and Izzy go on to create a legend.

Things are good, for a long while they're good. Edward is an inventive and charismatic captain, the crew love him and the loot he leads them to, and Izzy's position (and Edward's possessive protectiveness over him) means that anyone who dares order Israel Hands around, that doesn't have the title of 'his captain', meets a quick end.

Unfortunately, for Izzy, 'good' never tends to last. He'd hoped (and damn him for daring to hope) that he was free, as free as he could be, from his curse, sailing under Edward (Blackbeard), and he was. For a while. Its about a decade later when Edward starts to get bored. He never orders Izzy to do anything degrading or dangerous (more dangerous than he can handle at least) but it still hurts somewhere deep in his chest the first time Edward gives a casual order and doesn't look to see if Izzy wants to follow it.

They come across Jack every now and again. It always takes him a bit to readjust to Izzy, to remember he needs to phrase things as suggestions rather than orders, he always manages eventually. (that little pain in his chest digs a little deeper when he notices Edward avoids giving him orders when Jack is around, though he can't say why) Their crossing paths wind up fewer and farther between as the years go on. One notable visit involved Jack asking Edward to marry him and Anne Bonny ('why not just have your first mate do it?' 'Annie is my first mate, man, 'sides, I want my two best buds to be there for it!'). Izzy isn't sure what to make of Edward's renewed willingness to run into Jack afterwards (only knows that the pain in his chest grows all the sharper for it, and at seeing Jack, happy with Anne, he feels a bit monstrous about that). It doesn't matter much in the end, things go back to normal once Mary/Mark (depending on the day) Read enters the picture and (mostly) steals Annie away from Jack.

And suddenly Izzy finds himself at fifty five, on a beach, wondering ‘what kind of fucking idiot runs his ship aground‘. Edward is intrigued, Izzy can't tell him 'no'.

He hates the Revenge with every fiber of his being. None of the crew listen to him, Edward doesn't back him up (and neither do Fang or Ivan, following their captain's lead). The first time one of the crew gets it into their head to give him a mocking order he nearly passes out with the force it takes him to not jump to the task immediately. He retreats to his cabin later and vomits at the feeling of violation he hasn't felt in decades (he tells himself he hasn't felt it, Edward is his captain, above all else is loyalty to his captain, his own feelings don't matter).

He hates stupid fucking Stede Bonnet most of all. Hates him for putting a light back in Edward's eyes that hasn't been there for a long while. Hates his pompous attitude, his flippant disregard for the institution of piracy, how little he seems to actually care for the safety and well-being of his own men (leave alone the danger he poses to Edward). Most of all he hates that he calls him 'Iggy'.

So when he challenges him to a duel, and he accepts, its only for Edward's sake that he sets the terms at 'banishment' and not 'death'. When he loses he finds he rather wished it had been to the death. (he doesn't understand, Edward wanted this, he hadn't even told him to stop, hadn't ordered him to stop)

He retreats to Spanish Jackie'z to lick his wounds and to work out a plan to pull Edward out of the steady march towards his own demise that he faces aboard the Revenge. Jackie, Izzy is fairly certain, knows about his curse to some extent (he suspects she doesn't abuse the knowledge for the sake of having a bargaining chip, should she need it), she talks him out of any corners the navy bloke with a grudge against Stede Bonnet inadvertently walks him into. She also runs him into Jack Rackham (and Izzy realizes, at the sight of the silver starting to peek its way through his dirty blond, that its been nearly ten years since they've last seen each other, that pain in his chest not any duller for it) and the last piece of the plan falls into place. Jack tries to talk him out of it, says its not a good idea, even offers him a position on his own ship (not that its his ship to offer anymore, since Annie took over captaincy and made Mary/Mark her first mate, but they've both always had a soft spot for Izzy on account of Jack's soft spot for Izzy, they'd be more than willing), not once does he order though and Izzy can't let Edward keep doing this to himself. Jack will understand when he sees him, Izzy says. Jack goes.

(Izzy hears, when the navy gunners crow triumphantly about hitting the dinghy, the one that Jack and Edward were in, the one that Edward jumped out of, he tells himself not to let it show when that pain in his chest comes back twenty-fold at the thought)

Edward claims the Act of Grace. He and Stede Bonnet leave to lick the king’s boots. Izzy doesn't make it a single day as captain. Edward comes back just before he goes overboard with the anchor to follow. He comes back wrong. Izzy can't take it. Edward can't take it.

The Kraken wakes and Izzy is introduced to the concept of a living hell. (even the captive crew stop trying to give him orders, at the haunted look in his eye, when they see how the Kraken orders him around, when he discovers Spriggs alive, if a lot worse for the wear, he doesn't even need the order to keep it under wraps, he doesn't want to know what the Kraken would order him to do if the boy is found out, he shudders at the thought)

When stupid fucking Stede Bonnet (and his marooned crew) finds his way back to the Revenge Izzy allows himself a single moment to feel relieved. Until, at least, the Kraken orders him to kill the man. He can't. He fights. The crew are all shouting at him not to, it eases the strain. The Kraken levels his pistol at his head, the crew goes silent.

'Israel, I order you to kill Stede Bonnet'.

His sword is in his hand. Stede's gotten better with his own sword, is managing to hold his own against Izzy (in truth, its mostly due to Izzy straining to not follow the order, but there is a marked improvement). The Kraken growls 'Kill him Izzy, fucking- kill him!' Izzy loses his sword to the mast again (he's grateful this time), his knife is in his hand a second later. He's got less reach than Stede does but Stede is trying not to hurt him. Why is he trying not to hurt him?

'Bonnet. Bonnet, you have to stop me. I can't. I can't kill you. I can't let him do that to himself. You have to. Run me through. Right here-' he taps his chest with his free hand, the one that isn't swinging the knife around, the left side, right over his heart '-only way to stop this. He might even listen to you afterwards.'

'Izzy. Izzy no.' In his shock, Stede lowers his sword. Izzy swears as he knocks it out of his hand. Presses close, crowds him against the doors to the captain's cabin, knife against his throat.

'Just fucking kill him already!'

A bead of blood wells under the tip of the blade. Izzy meets his own eyes in the polished reflection of his knife.

'Izzy stop fucking around and do what I told you to!'

His hands shake with the weight of the order. There are tears in his eyes, he can see them in his reflection.

A memory comes, unbidden: He, Edward, and Jack hiking through dense jungle to find a witch that Jack thinks might be able to break his curse, or at least tell them how to break it themselves. Her words 'I cannot break this curse Israel, this is something you must do for yourself. I can tell you this, however, to do this you'll need to face yourself. Face yourself and free yourself. That is all I can say, I'm sorry, I'd tell you more if I could.' They'd left disappointed, Jack cursing about scams and 'you can't even trust witches these days, man', Edward contemplatively silent.

Face yourself and free yourself. Izzy's eyes flick upwards to Stede's concerned face, back down to the blade. He meets his own eyes again.

'Izzy-' The rest of the Kraken's words go unheard.

Izzy tells himself, voice scarcely more than a breath: 'You will not be obedient.'

He feels, more than sees, Stede's gasp. He ignores it. His hand still wants to press the knife upwards. He tries again.

'You will not be obedient.' A little louder this time.

'The fuck did you just say-' Again.

'You will not be obedient!'

The knife flies across the deck, lands with a clatter. Silence (but for the sound of Izzy's labored breaths).

He turns, ignores the shocked crew, meets Edward's wide eyes with his own watery ones (when had the tears started falling so freely?).

'. . . Iz. . . ?'

Everything goes black.

[shiroselia]

SSE I'll never ask for anything ever again if only you carry this colour over to the Gen 3 Mustang in one of your future coat releases I will literally buy star coins again

Actually if you want me to buy star coins again can I please have this on any of the upcoming warmbloods or like. any fucking breed at all??

[moe-broey]

Sharena: Beautiful, radiant, stunning, shining SO brightly

Moe: Looks like it's in physical pain but it's happy. I promise 👍

Doodle............

[iateyourcatnom]

"People with great dentision are gorgeous...but also scary af- hear me out- like you're so used to seeing crooked or gaped or mishapen or at least not really white...but then you see ppl like this mf swr-"

(She's also my first sim with straight teeth hip! hip! hoorayyyy!!!)

[pinkhysteria]

knowing it's a DE makes the stretch till thursday slower than usual because i really can't be bothered to invest too much seriousness in most of any of their planning right now. a lot of it will probably go out the window once that reveal hits.

[finnpeach]

Home - Vash

hm are any of us surprised i churned this out at 1 am because i binged this show and couldn’t sleep? no? me neither

Anyway, *SPOILERS* ahead for Trigun Stampede (I’d say if you’ve seen episode 8 you’re safe), but nothing too crazy. This takes place in one of the random 150 years of Vash’s adventures. Enjoy Vash finding out he’s allergic to lavender and being the best boy ☺️

Also, sorry if some of these characters don’t act very canon. I’ve only seen Trigun Stampede and not the original or the manga and thus am kinda guesstimating how these characters would act in this scenario

Vash hasn’t visited Home in nearly twenty years. Even though time doesn't really have any meaning to him, it does to the people he cares about, so he can’t help but feel a little guilty as he approaches the ship. He knows he should come by more often to visit, and that Brad and Luida and the rest of the Home team would love to see him, but he can’t help but feel like a burden every time he does.

His cybernetic arm is hanging by little more than a thread, torn apart in a recent brawl over yet another plant that he’d only narrowly managed save. He’s exhausted. His arm hangs uselessly at his side, only jolting with the occasional shocking twitch.

To his luck, Brad and Luida are out of cryosleep and both wrap him up in a warm embrace as he walks through the ship’s doors, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Vash!” They both cry. Warmth spreads through Vash’s chest as Brad ruffles his hair and Luida buries her face in his shoulder. He remembers the days when he used to look up at them as a child, but now he towers over them.

“How have you been? Are you all right? We were hoping to see you this time when we woke up,” Luida says. She looks older, maybe in her late 40s now, and Brad looks about the same. Their hair is beginning to become streaked with white, and deep wrinkles have already set across their faces. It’s part of the reason he hates coming back here, to see them getting older while he stays eternally young.

“I’m okay, I missed you both. Have you been well?” Even though his arm is killing him, he doesn’t want to bring it up yet. He’s too wrapped up in the feeling of being welcomed home and seeing friendly faces, seeing the pride and affection and love in their eyes. If only he could bottle up this feeling and take it with him.

“Yes, we’ve been— Christ, Vash, what’ve you done to your arm this time?” Brad finally takes notice when a spark of electricity spikes off his arm. He gently picks up the appendage, turning it over in his hands with a practised grace.

“Ah-ha, well, about that…” He grins sheepishly, cheeks burning red as he scratches the back of his head. “I saved the hand this time, though!”

Brad rolls his eyes and starts walking towards his room, waving him along. “C’mon, I’ve got my tools in your room, as usual. Luida, we’ll be done in time for dinner.”

“Don’t take too long! I want to catch up with Vash too!” Luida calls after them. Vash turns to give her a beaming smile and a wave goodbye before following Brad down the hall.

It feels so good to be Home.

A couple of hours later and lots of admonishing from Brad, Vash’s arm is beginning to regain feeling again.

“You should go out into the garden and see the new flora that Luida has been working on,” Brad tells him as he’s bent over his forearm. He’s just putting on the last of the stabilising touches to make it “Vash-proof”, as he calls it.

“There’s this new one called lavender. It’s got a long, thin stem and purple bunches of petals at the top. The humans on Earth used to use it for its calming effects. Smells great too. Go check it out, but make sure you’re back in time for dinner.”

One more flourish with welding tool, and he’s done. Brad pushes himself out of the chair, swiping his palms together. “And take better care of that arm!”

Vash chuckles, flexing his left hand. The joints feel better already. “Thank you, Brad. I’ll go take a look.”

He slides into his coat and follows Brad out of the room before making his own way down to the garden. The path is so familiar to him, he could do it with his eyes closed.

The garden looks gorgeous as it always has. It’s sunset now, creating a golden, rose-tinted shadow across the flora. He walks down the stone path, taking note of the new blue flora popping up, a new tree that's grown, before he finds the lavender that Brad had been speaking about.

Huh, Vash hadn’t expected it to look like that. It looks more like a bush or a tumbleweed than an actual flower. He bends down to get a closer look.

The purple petals are so stunning that he almost doesn’t notice the itch blossoming in his nose. He reaches his hand out to touch the stem, then feels the soft petals with the pad of his finger. Ah, that’s the scent that Brad mentioned. He loves it. It smells light and clean.

He rubs at his nose as he bends closer to the plant. He doesn’t dare break off a stem to get it closer to his face, so instead he crouches into a squat to lean forward and smell it.

It does feel calming. Vash can see why the humans on Earth liked it so much. Craving more, he inhales deeply through his nose just as the itch becomes too much to bear—

“Hih’iTSHhh! Hh.. H’TSCHhh!” The two sneezes catch him by surprise. He has to catch himself on the ground to avoid losing his balance.

Shaking his head, he sniffles and paws at his nose, which is beginning to take on a pink flush. How strange, he thinks. Must be something in the air. Usually only dust and the desert sand makes him sneeze, but there’s none of that in here.

He wants to sniff the lavender again and reaches out to feel the petals, but the itch has buried itself deeper in his nose. His breath catches in his chest, his aquamarine eyes slipping shut as his lips draw back over his teeth—

“H’TSH’itsch! Hh.. hihh— h’ITSCHhh’ue! Hh’eHTSSHhh’iu!” The last sneeze is so forceful that it makes him lose his balance. He falls back on his ass and tumbles flat on his back. His glasses are askew on his pink, irritated nose. Allergic tears fill his eyes as he stares up at the rose sunset sky.

Can he be allergic to flora? Or perhaps it’s this one in particular? He’s never had such a reaction to flora before, even in Rem’s garden.

Vash sniffles and rubs at his nose, which has now started to run. Instead of abating the itch, it only serves to set him off again— “H’ITSHhhiew! Haah.. heh-hh! H’ihdTSShh!”

It must be the lavender that's causing this. He can’t help but feel a bit sad, because he had really liked the scent of the lavender. Maybe Luida will have some medicine to offset the symptoms.

He lays there on the ground for a while, staring up at the sky, feeling a swirl of melancholy and happiness in his chest. Those two emotions seem to be the familiar, funny feeling that he always carries with him, even when he's back on the ship.

He stays there, sneezing occasionally and sniffling, until Luida calls for him for dinner. She chides at him for laying on the ground and says he’ll catch a cold like that, which makes him grin. He lets her shoo him inside and down the corridor towards the dining hall. Vash can’t help but revel in the tenderness he feels at her gentle reprimands, the way she fixes his hair or dusts off his coat or gives him one last hug before they enter the dining hall, because it all feels like Home.

[cozylittleartblog]

It's been four months since I found out about him and yet your yeehaw man is still taking up space in my brain Dunno how you did that but in light of this I will be drawing Lucky again in an undisclosed amount of time

Anywho on a different note I really love ur artstyle!! Even if I'm not all that into stuff like Deltarune I still really enjoy seeing ur stuff when it pops up

it's because he's just so charming, obviously 🥴 he's an asshole who likes to bang at my brain door at 2am requesting attention when i'm trying to do shop work lmao

but thank you!! it's always nice when people can still enjoy my work even if they don't know the media it's from or if it's not from something to their personal liking, really makes me feel like my art has value on it's own and i appreciate that too. take a yeehaw for your troubles.