it’s half past five in the morning. this reads like it was written at half past five in the morning.
it’s funny how things work out like that sometimes.
Pairing: GiLutz sort of if you want to be really masochistic about it
Rating: whatever man i don’t know this shit’s just really depressing you probably shouldn’t read it.
Warning: character death sort of i’m not actually a good artsy writer i should just write gilbert lying on a beach and thinking about porpoises or something it would be a more effective literary device.
He could hear in the dark.
He sat alone in a pine box and listened to the steady tick of his watch. For every three ticks there came a heavy hit above. The box would creak, the pine would cry, and the cheap fabric would whisper against his skin.
He rolled over onto his side and pressed his ear against his watch. There wasn’t really anything more interesting to do other than listen. Tic tic.
Ti—okay that was enough. Low threshold for this sort of thing.
it’s stupidly cold here. and it’s been a stupidly long time since i touched this blog, so here. have a gil-lutz drabble. it’s short, un-betaed, and woefully out of season. also pg-13. shocking i know. try and contain your loins.
(ps — petrolsocken and i have a little au blog going on called we boys of saint mary’s. she does the arts, i do the… something, i’m sure. it’s cute and still a little fledgling, so check it out before it gets older and jaded and starts resenting you. shameless plugging over.)
Pairing: GiLutz (Germancest)
A warm breeze made the curtains in the small room billow upward, tugging at the cotton sheets on the bed. Once starched and pressed into submission, they were now damp with sweat, the heat of the day making them wilt as badly as the vase of wildflowers atop the small table in the corner. Overhead, a fan spun lazily in circles, the quiet clicking of its joints mingling with the tired trill of songbirds in the tree outside the old window.
Gilbert slowly opened his eyes, staring at the smooth expanse of skin his cheek was pillowed upon. Blunted nails scratched at a few drops of sweat that clung to his brother’s chest, and the giant beneath him stirred.
OKAY LISTEN GUYS - you know my good pal Punpunichu right?
HERE IS THE DEAL;
Puni really didn’t want to beg for money but the situation looks kinda bad.
I’m doing this instead of Puni because - she literally can’t.
She can’t access the internet right now nor can she use her computer because it’s broken D:
That’s why I’m doing this.
Without trying to spill any personal information I got the permission to tell you this:
Puni has severe money problems due to multiple reasons, one is that she has no parents that she could rely on, she can’t take jobs due to illnesses and her relationship to real life friends and siblings is also really not ideal right now - which means in conclusion: no way to make money and nobody who could help.
She would’ve taken commissions (and finished the ones she has right now) - but now that her computer is broken she doesn’t have internet access…
If she could use her computer she could do commissions and finish the ones she already has taken and try to raise money for herself in order to
-buy a functioning stove/top (she eats mostly junkfood - not healthy bro)
-get a cellphone
Sounds like normal everyday things right?
All that is a big deal for Puni tho D:
So please please please help her out?
You can donate
Also Puni wanted me to give you guys this message:
“It’s alright if you don’t have any money to spare right now it’s not a requirement to donate so don’t feel bad if you can’t! This is really only for people who are able to spend a little money right now - and after I get everything to work again please message me if I can make it up to you somehow! Also I’m really sorry for not having been active these past few days and that I couldn’t respond, as you can see I’m not in a good situation moneywise and I have been feeling generally unwell and I’m thanking everyone in advance who is able to help out even just a little…”
If you could reblog this that would also help out!
it does not have to be much - if everyone just donates a little we will have the required money in NO TIME! 8)
HELLO THIS IS PETROLSOCKEN HERE NOT PUNPUNICHU!
I got the login information from Puni cause she obviously cannot use her internet right now.
If you want Puni to be active and post HERSELF here anytime soon, it would be cool if you could help out a little D:
Even just spreading this would help!
Thank you for your attention!
Reblogging this again since i just finally donated a bit. Help out, Puni, guys!
puni is such a sweet friend and an amazing person. she’s one of the most selfless people i know and when i was in need she was always there for me, so i hope that we can be there for her.
since i haven’t posted for an age, i thought i would just put this little drabble up here. i wrote it for anita who is a dear and a sweet heart and thank you so much for being my friend i really don’t deserve you. <3
it’s unbeta’d and really short i’m sorry aaah
The air-conditioner whined softly as the car trundled down the small brick-laid road, disturbing the peace of the old neighborhood. Great oaks stretched up towards the sky, their umbrella branches emerald with leaves, painting pictures on the concrete slabs that hid old chalk beneath. In the backseat a guitar case lay open, a handful of picks rattling against the worn felt. The guitar itself was resting comfortably in the front seat, its strings plucked by sure, calloused fingers.
The car trundled on, the whir of the air conditioner and the plucking of the strings.
for those of you wondering why it has been an age since i last touched this blog, this is your answer:
this is my desk. i live in fear of it crushing my legs every day. i am currently in the middle of writing my master’s thesis. once this is done i will first cry, then probably throw up a bit, then get back to doing fun things. i’m really sorry i haven’t been able to write anything lately, but right now in my brain place, writing is so twisted and tied up with this thesis crap i can’t enjoy it at all.
thank you all for your patience and understanding. if any of you have requests for when i get done with thesis rough draft, feel free to let me know!
my hard drive crashed on sunday afternoon, and i ended up losing several drafts of fics that i had not backed up recently enough. until i get the computer situation under control, i won’t be able to write, which i’m sure is just devastating news for all of you.
however! don’t despair. when i return properly i will be holding a little contest with actual prizes. most likely doujinshi! and probably chocolate. decadence. please check back some time next week for details!
Very late Christmas gift to Allison, and I’m sorry!! But there was supposed to be a second part and I just couldn’t get it right and then suddenly I did it but then Sai crashed on me and so this is the only half that made it.
A little illustration from her coffee shop AU fic and ALSO the sequel to a fic she wrote earlier this year (and even if you don’t know the fandom, you really should go read them because hot damn, her writing is swell)! Complete with Lando Calrissian socks. As an added bonus, here’s the transparent version of his head I used so that you can click-and-drag it around your dash/blog at your leisure:
lateChristmas, Allison! <3
THIS IS LIKE THE BEST SURPRISE EVER
THIS IS AMAZING
LOOK HOW ADORABLE GILBERT IS LUDWIG HAS NO FREAKING IDEA HOW TO HANDLE THAT MUCH HANDSOMENESS
LOOK AT THAT SAD MAN STANDING THERE LIKE ‘HOW DO I COMPREHEND HOW FLOOFY AND PERFECT HIS HAIR IS BY GOD HE’S GORGEOUS’
AMAZING I CAN’T DO WORDS THIS IS SO FREAKING FANTASTIC THANK YOU SO MUCH AAAAAAH
Hetalia is actually pretty sad underneath all of the humorous misadventures
Like they’re all a bunch of immortals who have to endure the suffering of entire countries and make really big and sometimes scary decisions and have been fighting for centuries or sometimes millennia and it’s just wow really fucking sad
welcome to reasons why i love hetalian fanworks
To: Petrolsocken (my dear Angler-princess)
HA. YOU NEVER SUSPECTED A THING, DID YOU. MY RUSE IS COMPLETE AND UNMATCHED.
My darling Nita, I can’t say enough how amazing it’s been getting to know you this year. You are such a lovely person, and deserve every bit of happiness. Have a wonderful Christmas.
Wet snowflakes stuck to the windows of the little town, blanketing the rooftops and swaddling the unmoving citizens in downy white. The gears in the clock tower slowly turned, the little wind-up wheel on the back lazily spinning. A soft chorus of ‘Carol of the Bells’ flooded the town, nestling in the cotton snowdrifts and echoing throughout the house. A line of wax from a candle slowly drifted down, forming little lakes on the oak server. Delicate fingerprints dotted the surface, two different patterns of waves and swirls overlapping. The smell of pine from the branches that outlined the town permeated the air, making it heavy and rich with the feeling of winter.
On several buildings, tiny doors and windows were opened, revealing numbers written in elegant gold script and little nails where tiny golden keys had once hung. They were scattered all over the town, hidden in quiet, shadowed places, waiting to be opened by excited, seeking hands. Underneath the town, hidden in the drawers of the server, were matching numbered boxes, each with their own lock. Some of the boxes were quite large, others small enough to only hold a few pieces of chocolate. Every box was open, save for the last two.
Gilbert stared at the boxes in the drawer, blowing fake snow out of his fringe. He leaned forward, staring at the small town and then slowly reached out to tip an ice skater over.
“I am your god. You will tell me where the last doors are.”
The porcelain figures continued to go about their business, completely ignoring him.
kingshigwa replied to your post: hello everyone sorry i’ve been silent for a while….
except that we will be holding you hostage during winter break and you will not be able to leave our sides except for the occasional alchohol/chocolate run
yes, if i am absent from my fic blog for too long, it’s safe to blame these people.
WHAT IT IS