#this was written at one in the morning and idk if i like it but.

[gatzbright]

sweater weather

dnf fic, 1.6k, one shot, general, ao3 link [Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Fluff]

A cry escapes George’s lips. “Dream—” Dream brings George closer, holds his face in two large palms. “Tell me when you’re hurting, sweetheart,” he whispers thickly, “and I can try help.” George shakes his head. “No,” he says, weepy, “‘s’too much—” “Never,” Dream says. He holds George’s gaze. “You’re never too much—nothing you ever feel is ever too much.”

[Or, The tide brings in old feelings, and George feels the ache.]

[sentientsky]

the cicadas are singing somewhere outside and your heart is in your throat and he's looking you in the eyes with something resembling trust and you don't know if you deserve it. your vision's gone all kaleidoscopic and dizzying, the crowd dissolving into fractures of light and cacophony. and still, he's handing you the gun. you feel an oil slick settle under your skin, feel it sizzle and spit in the incandescent heat of a stage turned colosseum, turned hallowed, wretched ground wherever the light finds purchase. you're a demon and he's an angel and neither one of you has ever known the shape of sickness, never felt it settle in the wing-span-bird-hollows of your bones. but you know it now; know the way it slithers, acrid and vicious, carving into the gore of your esophagus. you know it now like an old friend; like the swoop of pale eyelashes against skin; like the slope of his throat, and the way his voice rises at the end as he speaks prophecy into being: aim for my mouth. his mouth—his soft/slanting/beautiful mouth, so far away from your own. fear strings itself between the rungs of your ribcage, burrows deep into aorta and vessel and gore.

but shoot past my ear. and he says it as though you've ever held a weapon with any trace of volition; as though you wouldn't rather face destruction than watch him come to ruin, than let his blood be on your hands (centuries spool out before you, and you're standing in a darkened theatre with a make-believe king and a thane and a ghost. and you can see the woman stained with blood no longer there. you watch the way she tears at her own flesh, scrubs it raw as though she might be made holy once more. the space between your shoulder blades ache). you don't think you could hurt him even if you tried. but the stage lights are so sickly and you're choking back bile and he's a million miles away from you. there's something cracking apart in your chest. the night is heady—the cicadas still sing outside. and you're trembling. you're so close to calling it all off, to pulling him into the wings and out into the amnesia of a heavy night. exit stage right, and all that. but then, trust me. and there it is. it crashes into you with a devastating, inevitable certainty. you'd do anything he wished. you'd rend the sky apart with your teeth. you'd reach into your chest and hand him your all-too-human heart, if only he'd ask. so you hold your breath. you aim. and you pray.

[rexscanonwife]

Grrggh...good morning everypony = w = I rewatched the episode of the ppg reboot where Utonium gets a girlfriend...

[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.

[adaine-party-wizard]

okay i’m having Thoughts™️ (bear with me or ignore me)

i hate that it feels like in response to the very shitty “is she pmsing” comment every time a woman (using woman here intentionally because of how this comment is usually framed/ discussed) has An Emotion it seems like the Correct Thing To Do is deny that periods have any impact on your emotional state.

cause boy HOWDY mine do especially when i’ve gone off birth control. my periods have been like better physically they HURT less but also im thinking about Laika the space dog and i wanna cry so hard im gonna vomit cause she was ALONE it’s so SAD she didn’t KNOW what was gonna happen!!! and like in normal circumstances i do get sad thinking about it but not THIS much!!! the hormones do real shit!!!

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[masonsystem]

it is so funny that when i first played ghost trick i found it to be rly good but after playing 4 other shu takumi games i find myself not holding it in such great regards anymore

[b4kuch1n]

good luck w the testing and a happy early new year!!

thank you it's already happened when this was sent but we all did get one free point for the listening section bc the audio fucked up and we didn't get to hear the part with the last question's answer. but I will now think this is luck borrowed from the future when this ask was sent

[maddy-ferguson]

i really don't understand why people who only read YA or people who only watch cartoons made for kids try to tell us that it's actually just as good and deep and thought-provoking as media made for adults like i do know it's because they know it's not and they feel inferior or whatever but it's very funny

[arthur-r]

song of the week or something like that

[essektheylyss]

The great thing about writing a time loop is that once I have day one done, the rest of it is basically built on a template.

The worst thing about writing a time loop is that day one has to be pristine or your entire foundation just crumbles.

[tardis--dreams]

The worst part is not that i procrastinated my term paper to the last minute. I always do that. The worst part is having to send my lecturer the topic proposal a week before the deadline which will undoubtedly be met with some extreme judgment of my time management and i am not in the mood for that

[seventh-district]

oh my god i can’t decide what to do with my time today

[torchickentacos]

okay, so while the temptation of shitpost meme fics is very high, I did not account for my fandoms list having to look like this.

[noxtivagus]

apollo's doing the drk lvl 80 quest rn n my mind is just. no thoughts only drk again

[imwritesometimes]

looking at the dono.linc a03 tag like 'hmmm wish there was new stuff to read here' yet being completely unable to make any new stuff