#sunbright

[asksunbrightntwilight]

I wonder what happened to RD, did she crash during that race? Is that why she never got to do the Rainboom? And I hope you guys find some other way to deal with all the disasters that will wreak havoc on Equestria without the Elements of Harmony to assist.

I don't know what this other junk is, Sonic Rainboom? Elements of Harmony? Sounds like an old foals tale

-Rainbow

[unteriors]

Morris Cemetery Road, Sunbright, Tennessee.

[wiley-treehouse-gardens]

Treehouse Gardens

[fieriframes]

[Sunbright.]

[the1stexperiment]

New chapter new me! (Lies, it's the same me that powers ahead while explaining nothing)

also, henlo <3 long time no see!!

Reminder that I'm going to start with biweekly updates from now on, just for my own sanity. I need that xD

(also also: I forgot to post this last week, so next update will be feb 26)

[christianblogr]

Cross Still Standing After Tornado Hits Sunbright

Cross Still Standing After Tornado Hits Sunbright

Cross Still Standing After Tornado Hits Sunbright Cross Still Standing After Tornado Hits Sunbright Photo Credit: WBIR A lone cross was still standing outside the Sunbright United Methodist Church near Schubert’s Funeral Home covered by fallen power lines. It hasn’t been confirmed yet that it was a tornado, but videos show a funnel cloud. Despite the damage, Morgan County Executive Brian…

[travelling-my-little-pony]

Sand Digger and Mummy Sunbright are out in the snow (on a WINDY day!).

On Dartmoor, in Devon, England.

[pollie-pockets]

Sunbright family transparents

[normaleeinsane]

Here are G1 My Little Ponies, Baby Sunbright and Mummy Sunbright. ^v^

[asksunbrightntwilight]

Flightless Pegasus over here

-Rainbow

[beingjellybeans]

Sun Life Foundation and Save the Children Philippines collaborate for "Project SUNBRIGHT"

Sun Life Financial-Philippines Foundation, Inc. (Sun Life Foundation), the philanthropic arm of Sun Life Philippines, and Save the Children Philippines have joined forces to launch “Project SUNBRIGHT.” This initiative aims to reduce and prevent malnutrition among children and pregnant or lactating mothers by promoting exclusive and appropriate complementary feeding. Project SUNBRIGHT is set to…

[wildfandom]

@courfeyracs-swordcane

WAKE UP TUMBLRINAS NEW SIKEN NEXT YEAR

[melodead]

the cheering fades into the background. your nose bumps against his. sunbright eyes shine back at him, warm and wide and beautiful, and oh, he’s a goner. nagi shamelessly, instinctively leans into your touch when you brush his hair out of his face. it’s feverish, the warmth creeping up his cheeks, but he doesn’t mind. he doesn’t want to look away.

that’s why, when you pull him in like gravity, he lets himself come crashing down into your orbit.

the cheering raises to a fever pitch. hands anchor themselves on your waist. his head spins. you grin against his lips, touch leaving heat crackling in its wait as you draw a hand down his neck to rest on his chest—right above his heart. every sense is overwhelmed with you, you, you. your love sinks into his skin, engraves itself into his being in the way only you know how to. he might’ve just won the world cup, but this victory might just beat that.

he pulls you in closer, holds you pressed to his pounding heart. nagi hopes you can feel it. he has never been good with words, never been able to tell you what he feels—much less recognize it—but in this way, maybe you’ll understand. you’d promised to watch, after all. the least he can do is show you the world.

[buckevantommy]

oh, look: another 8x11 fixit! this time with Tommy + Henren, set soonafter Tommy reconnects with Buck for real - where they actually talked and decided to give things a better go..

Hen was still cackling. Tommy slumps back in the booth, offended. "It's not that funny." Maybe he hasn't reached the point where he can look back and laugh about it, but Hen's reaction seems a little overkill.

She manages to reel herself in and even out enough to say - through a sly grin, "Boy, you oughta know by now Buck is a damn baby koalabear— he clings— to everyone. It's what he does."

Tommy bristles. Hen isn't the first to infantalize Evan. Tommy admits he's guilty of it himself, but he's aware of that - and more - and has been course correcting, mindful of such damaging trains of thought and curbing them before they make it out of his mouth or dictate his behaviour in ways that are unfair to Evan, and which don't reflect well on Tommy.

"I know he cares, Henrietta, that's not-"

Hen pulls her drink away from her mouth to cut him off, hands waving. "I mean— I thought your gaydar was better than that— 'cause you got Buck!"

Tommy huffs, preparing an explanation Hen probably won't be receptive to right now: about how close friendships between straight and queer men usually mean things are a little curvy. And tacking on something about how he didn't know about Buck - he'd hoped and took a leap, believing at the very least Evan wouldn't be disgusted or sock him in the jaw about it.

Maybe for the best, Karen saves him the trouble. She pats at her wife's wrist, eyes on Tommy as she says, "I get it. There was a time when I wondered, too. But I wasn't as close to Eddie as Hen was so I didn't see the details. I was filling in the blanks with my imagination for a fuller picture," gesturing broadly with her wineglass.

Tommy finds his head bobbing along in agreement. It was the things he didn't witness as much as those he did. Looking back now, and looking at the present, he sees how his insecurities colored his interpretation - again, being unfair to Evan. And to Eddie. There's a whole half-life of toxic masculinity still messing with his perception of people and intentions - it says: two men can't be that close unless it's romantic or sexual, because men aren't capable of that kind of platonic emotional vulnerability, because straight men don't bend that way, the way Tommy tried to emulate for decades - even after years of working so damn hard to be free of that sabotaging mindset and of those stigmas.

"Thankyou, Karen." It's nice to be vindicated, even if they both turned out to be wrong. It's nice to not feel alone in his lack of knowing.

Karen nods, her smile kind and commiserating as her other hand pats at the wrist of Tommy's outstretched arm. He'd leaned forward at some point, reached out. Notices the collection of bottles and glasses scattered around them on the table and distantly acknowledges that he's drunk more than his ususal few for social interactions. He sways a little as he leans back against the worn vinyl of their go-to lowkey queer-friendly bar. It's not a badge n' ladder because this isn't about work, and because there's something innately comforting about being in a queer space with queer friends.

If they are friends. Kinda feels like they are. Feels good to spend time with Evan's people on his own, to know they want to spend time with him without Evan. Even if it means being the target of Hen's ribbing. He knows she's not laughing at his expense, mostly. She is, but she isn't. Karen gets it.

"I'm glad you two got there," says Karen, eyes soft and sparkling.

"Me too," says Tommy, mind wandering to recently made memories of Evan's sunbright smile and skybright eyes. To the mop of curls he'd buried his nose in and planted a good morning kiss there. To the sleep-steady breaths condensing in the dip of his collarbone and the comfortable body-warm weight anchoring him to a bed he was once afraid of leaving - every single time - because nothing was concrete and the good thing they had going could end at any moment, he could lose it, lose Evan without much warning; rogue tide eroding the sand beneath their hastily built relationship.

It feels different this time. Sturdy. Like the foundations they're building on aren't going to crumble at some indeterminate point in the near future. Like he doesn't need to enjoy it while it lasts because they both want it to last, to be each other's last.

"I love him," Tommy says, still half adrift in thoughts of Evan. "You asked my intentions, once. You should know: I'm in this for the long haul. We both are." The words don't come as shaky as he might've thought; it's still scary, but they're in this together and they've talked about the scary things. They know what each other is feeling. Evan knows what a mess Tommy is and he wants him anyway. Tommy's lips quirk up in fondness. He has to bite back the smile that grows sudden and exponentially as he thinks: ..and he loves me.

A cheer goes up on the other side of the bar and Tommy raises his head to it. His gaze catches on the twin set of eyes on him shining in the dim barlight, the matching smiles that seem to say: we're happy for you, we're proud of you, we're rooting for you so don't screw it up this time.

It feels like friendship. Like something close to family.

Hen tips her drink to the centre of the table, "Cheers to that," and Karen lifts her wineglass.

Tommy tilts his beer to meet them. "Cheers." It's certainly something worth celebrating. Finally, he has someone to hold onto who wants to be held, someone who holds him strong and true right back.

[clockwork-ashes]

Daylight

The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples.

Summary: Eris learns that Lucien is not Beron's son (one-shot).

Eris paced the small room, his steps soundless. Barefoot, ready for bed, cold rough stone to warm soft carpet. Over and over, again and again, a comfort. 

The smell of copper, sharp like night blooming flowers, hung in the air. Eris noticed that he had bitten through the inside of his cheek. He traced the wound with his tongue, the salt and metal of his blood enough to ground him, to clear his mind.  

Eris took a deep breath. He knew all the flames of this world, it was his birthright. Centuries he had lived, had witnessed much, gained enough wisdom. 

Eyes like gold, glowing unlike any fire made of Autumn, Eris had seen only a glimpse of it and had known. Magic was ancient, but simple, responding like a trained hound to those who had taken the time to learn its secrets. Stoked to life in the court he had been raised in, Eris would have recognised the flames as his own. 

Daylight. 

Sunbright, lovely, Lucien’s eyes had been twin stars in the darkness. 

It had taken every ounce of self control Eris possessed not to rear back at the sight, a death sentence. 

An oath taken, a promise made in blood, Eris had nearly forgotten. His mother’s hands, claws as she had gripped his arm, begged her eldest son to grant her strange request. Everything had been made clear as Eris had silently watched the Lady of Autumn gently stroke Lucien’s curls from his face, eyes half-lidded and gold only like sunlight could be. 

Small for his age and precious as all fae children were, Lucien was coddled by everyone in the Forest House.  

Half a decade, nothing in the grand scheme of things, and yet enough to change everything. The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples. 

The flames in the fireplace flared, Eris tugged at the short strands of blood red hair at the nape of his neck. He felt like he was drowning, his head already below the water’s surface, Eris choked on his own fear. 

“Eris, please.” His mother’s voice was quiet, a tremor in her words as she took to begging him once more. For what, Eris did not know, and in the moment he could not be bothered to care. 

Eris whirled around to face her, smaller than he remembered, the Lady of Autumn looked up at her son. His fear was reflected in her eyes, the weight of knowing that an executioner’s axe hung just above Lucien’s head. 

“How could you?” Eris snarled, the words biting, accusatory. Never had he spoken to his mother in such a way, the softest of tones always reserved for her. 

She shook her head, loose strands falling from her braid and framing her thin face. Defeated, her shoulders curved as she curled in on herself. Eris hoped she felt guilty. “You wouldn’t understand,” she murmured, dismissive and soft.

A strangled laugh, short and unamused, was dragged from deep within Eris. His mother took a careful step towards him, and Eris took a measured step back. Closer in age than half his brothers, Eris had always understood the Lady of Autumn. “Six sons were not enough?” Eris snapped harshly.

“All children are a blessing,” she did not look at Eris as she said it, more to herself than to him anyway. 

Eris wondered if those were the words his mother had told herself when she had first married the High Lord. A half truth quietly whispered when she had been alone, but not entirely convincing despite how often it was said.   

“A fate worse than death awaits him,” Eris argued, sure that flames had come to life in his amber eyes, voice louder. “You’re lucky father is in Spring, or Lucien would be dead already.”

“You don’t know that,” hands clenched into fists at her side, the Lady of Autumn raised her own voice to match.

Eris felt as the temperature in the room changed, uncomfortably hot, the flames in the fireplace and in the torches along the wall responding to the raging emotions of them both. “It’s cruel,” he hissed, “it’s wrong.” 

A child born of an affair, Lucien was well and truly doomed, and who else was Eris to blame but the Lady of the Autumn Court.

“And you know much about cruelty,” the condemnation was clear in the tone his mother used. 

If Eris had taken a moment to think, to consider how worried and frightened she was, perhaps he would have known to stop their argument. Instead, Eris pointed a shaking finger, angry, at the female that had raised him as best she knew how. “And whose fault is that?” The question was bitter, all poison, meant to hurt. 

“You can be so much like your father.” 

The last word a growl, the statement hung between them. Eris would have rather she had taken a knife to his chest. 

Almost as though the Lady of Autumn had struck him, Eris flinched back. 

With a startled gasp, eyes wide in shock and lips parted, his mother put out her hand. Regret, clear as river water, flashed on her sharp features. But the words had been said. “Eris,” she took a step towards him, “I didn’t–” 

The door opened suddenly, the ancient hinges screaming in protest, cutting her sentence short. Eris was glad for it, wished he had not come home, would have preferred the war camps to this. 

Eris had assumed the door was locked, panic coursed through his veins as he wondered who might have heard. Relief, like rain during a drought, came over Eris as Lucien walked into the room. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard, Eris and his mother silent. 

Eyes half shut with sleep, russet once more, Lucien dragged his bare feet along with a small blanket behind him. Eris watched as he rubbed at his eyes with one hand, as he broke into a little yawn.

“Ris?” He mumbled, voice heavy. “I thought I heard your voice.” 

Eris watched as his mother moved towards her youngest son, expecting him to go to her. Instead, Lucien made his way to Eris, nearly tripping on the blanket he had brought with him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Eris barely recognised his own voice. 

With a half-hearted shrug, Lucien knocked into Eris’s legs. “I heard you talking in the hall,” another yawn before he continued, “You didn’t come say goodnight.” Completely trusting and entirely unaware of all that had happened moments before he had entered the room, Lucien clung to Eris. 

The Lady of Autumn watched with wary eyes as Eris lifted Lucien into his arms gently. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He murmured. 

Lucien merely hummed his response, tired. Resting his head on Eris’s shoulder, his breaths slowing once more. 

Eris could see the pleading on his mother’s face, but he did not look at her long. He turned his attention to the arched window, watching the first rays of the sun inching over the horizon.  

Daylight.

[randomwriteronline]

Thats his fursona

I’m looking at different versions and expansion packs for Spirit Island (a board game in which players each control an elemental spirit and work together to protect their island from invaders).

Anyway, this one struck me as incredibly Lewa-coded