#we're getting to the MEAT

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Twelve

☁︎ Eris Vanserra x Dawn Court OC

☁︎ notes: we finally see Eris again!! I know the last few chapters were a lot of lore I hope I didn't lose too many of you with that 😬

also I know I'm not the first person to have the Autumn Court speak Scottish Gaelic I don't claim that idea and also I did my best but I'm sure it's not totally accurate lol

☁︎ warnings: lots of angst, mutual pining, memories of the war. Eris tooootally does not have a size kink

☁︎ word count: 4.7k

AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ taglist: @cauldronblssd @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove @landofpetrichor @secret-third-thing @bookwormysblog @mal-adaptive-dreams @daycourtofficial @roseodelle @sbgal @adventure-awaits13

Aya woke, sitting upright in her bed and clutching handfuls of her sweat-soaked blankets. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, dotting her chest and lavender nightgown. Her lungs could not fill fast enough, like pulling herself from the dream world had been something more like swimming back to the surface from the very bottom of the ocean.

In and out, Aya tried to calm herself, focusing on the beams of moonlight stretching through her room and across her lap. The edges of the cobalt sky were tinted lilac, a sign that the sunrise was not too far away.

The world went quiet, her breath steadying, mind stilling once again. Her fingers relaxed, leaving wrinkled fabric behind. Eyes closing, she inhaled deeply. The night air was fresh and sweet.

But the scent of the chrysanthemum oil in her skin mingled with the smell, a reminder of that stupid rhyme, and the lump in her throat was rising again.

With a cry of frustration, Aya tore back the covers and headed for her bathroom, discarding her clothes along the way. She turned on the shower as hot as she could stand and stepped into the stream, wards slipping into place around the perimeter of the room.

And she let herself cry. As loud as she needed. Her knees buckled under the weight of that dream and the things that she had learned, and she found herself kneeling on the tile, arms wrapped around her body. She pulled her wings in tight, not caring if they got drenched and took hours to dry. She needed the embrace of the warm water. Willing herself not to fall apart, she focused on her breathing again.

The dream was supposed to aid in her making a decision, finding a way forward and navigating the bond. Before she had even woken and left the dream, she knew what that decision was going to be. Now, huddled on the floor of her shower in the shade of night just before dawn, Aya held herself together as she drafted a plan.

She would talk to Thesan, and then Edana, pulling strings into place as she went to execute her plan. It would take the last of her strength, but she could do it. It would be worth it, to put her heart back together after seeing it so thoroughly destroyed. After today, she'd never have to see Eris again.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“She’ll be here soon enough,” Edana's voice interrupted Eris's rumination, “You're fidgeting.”

Eris grunted in response, eyebrows drawing even closer together, if that were possible. His chin rested on his intertwined fingers as he stared at nothing, knee bouncing as he thought. His mother sat opposite him at the garden table, readers perched on the end of her nose as she read through a newspaper.

She seemed perfectly calm and utterly unaffected, and Eris could not understand it. He was a wreck, anxiety pulling him apart thread by thread.

“What if something's wrong?” Eris wondered aloud, not for the first time tonight.

He finally registered Juno nudging at his knee, a chewed-up rubber ball between his teeth. He picked it up, nose wrinkling at the slobber, and threw it to the other side of the courtyard. Juno ran, nearly crashing into Salus who was very busy chasing a butterfly.

“Then she wouldn't have scheduled a time,” Edana said patiently, eyes glued to the paper. But Eris thought it sounded just like something Aya would do - schedule an appointment in the middle of a crisis.

“She said nothing about why she wanted to meet?”

“No, son. I showed you the note.” Edana said, also not for the first time tonight.

She bothered to glance up at him and caught how distracted he truly was. Her lips pursed as she considered saying something about his attachment showing, but the snap of a winnow stopped her.

Aya appeared, Juno and Salus rushing to meet her, nearly knocking her over. She smiled as she knelt to pet them, but Eris's heart sank into his stomach. Purple half moons darkened her under eyes, no glitter in her sunrise irises. She wore none of her usual jewelry, no elaborate braid with charms and curls. This Aya looked tired. More than tired.

"Lady Edana," She bowed in greeting, that same polite formality she insisted upon despite their protests, "Eris."

She did not meet his gaze and it made his chest tighten. Something was wrong.

"Please sit, Aya," Edana said, her tone the same one she had used when her boys were sick and needed soothing. It did something to Eris's heart, something bitter and sweet and strange.

"I hope all is well," She continued as Aya sat. They had remembered a stool for her, knowing she would be too polite to say anything, cramming her wings into a chair instead.

"Oh, everything is fine," Aya said, her voice a note too high. Eris did not risk exchanging a glance with his mother, but he could sense her energy shift across the table, "I just had something I wanted to discuss with you."

Eris’s mind rushed to all the ways that Beron could have found her out, every way he could have threatened her already. If he had somehow sunk his wretched claws into her-

"I got a job offer," A hollow smile spread across Aya's face, "In the Summer Court. And I wanted to ask your permission to take it. I will honor our bargain, of course. I can still winnow to you whenever you need it.”

Eris's heart skipped a beat. His mother looked as surprised as he did, her eyes wide behind her readers. It was a moment before either of them said anything, and he watched Aya shrink in her chair as she waited, eyes darting and wings fidgeting. It almost looked like guilt, causing him to wonder if she might be lying. If there was really a job in the summer court.

"Of course," Edana said finally, and Eris admired the way her tone had not changed at all, "Neither of us would dream of stopping you from finishing your training.”

Eris knew he would have said the same thing. But the word traitor still prattled around in his mind, fingers twitching with unspent energy.

"Thank you," Aya said, and there was a note of pain in it, "I am grateful for everything you've done for me.”

This sounded too much like a goodbye to Eris, and it was only winding him up further.

"Aya," Edana said softly. She slid her glasses from her nose and set them gently on the table before leaning in, "You would tell us if something happened, right? If Beron had...complicated the situation?"

"Of course," Aya frowned, "It's nothing like that.”

But her eyes had dropped, moving over the iron filigree of the table. Juno, who had not left the healer’s side since her arrival, nudged at her knee. His ball lay somewhere else, forgotten.

“Good," Edana leaned back, but she did not look convinced.

Eris knew he had not said anything yet. His mother noticed, pursing her lips as she looked between him and Aya. He was trying to gather his thoughts, to reel in the emotions running rampant in his mind. Edana raised her eyebrows at him, prompting.

Eris clenched his jaw, and a silence settled in the courtyard. Edana tilted her head, something flickering in her brown eyes. Aya chewed her lip, letting her gaze fall to the hound settled between her knees as the pair conversed with seemingly only their eyebrows.

Eris cleared his throat. Edana rolled her eyes and sighed.

“It seems I have forgotten a very important task,” She said, voice dripping with sarcasm as she stood from her chair, “I will be in my sitting room. Please say goodbye before you leave, Aya.”

She gathered her papers and disappeared into the house, closing the glass doors behind her. It was another long moment before Eris said anything. All of the words he had thought of left his mind as soon as they were alone. As soon as he noticed that, even with his mother gone, Aya had still not looked at him. She was focused on Juno, her thumbs rubbing circles into his smoke-colored fur.

If it was not Beron, and there was no seemingly no problem between her and Edana, then it had to be him. He thought back to the battlefield, of tearing off his gauntlets just to feel her face in his hands. And he swept a mask of neutrality over his features to hide the embarrassment he felt over such a blatant display of attachment.

“Aya,” He said softly, when the quiet had become too much.

Aya straightened, and he caught her almost imperceptible wince. She was in pain. That was a start to unraveling her mood.

“You're not well,” He said softly, watching Juno nudge her again, staring up at her with big, glittering eyes. Juno could sense her pain, too.

“I haven't been sleeping well,” She said, almost whispered, “It's caused a bit of a pain flare.”

What a lovely liar she was.

“I can help,” He said, holding his hands out like an offering. If only she'd just look at him. “Fire in my blood, and whatnot.”

Aya hesitated. She had come here to establish some distance between them. To get Edana's permission for work in another court and to say a silent goodbye to Eris before she cleaved herself apart from him, building whatever walls she needed to around the bond to keep him away.

But she wanted it. His touch and his help and any semblance of affection he would give her. So she would let him, as long as it was the last time.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet his for the first time today. And immediately, she wished she hadn't. It was like the bond made everything about him brighter, his eyes like molten amber even in the evening light of the garden. She melted under their heat, her body moving against her will to stand closer to him. The hound followed her, flanking her side like he had designated himself her guardian.

"May I?" He whispered, forcing his breathing to steady in her presence. There was something about seeing her like this, tired and dressed down, that made his heart jump into this throat. Like it reminded him that she was not a goddess, after all. Close enough to see the sheer skin under her eyes, the veins in her neck, the beauty mark dotting her lip…like this, she seemed so fragile.

She nodded again, and he wrapped his arms around her, splaying his hands across her back. Warmth emanated from his touch immediately, pouring heat into her aching spine. She closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky breath.

Eris nudged her closer until she stood between his knees, as she had done in the healer's tent. Aya let her head fall forward to rest against his shoulder, basking in the comfort of his warmth.

Letting her wings relax, they sagged and tucked in close against her body, trapping his hands against her skin. His hands moved in a rhythm, fingertips circling over her skin, brushing against raised and puffy scars. He was trying not to think about how soft and silky her wings felt, how wide his hands spanned across her small form. How easily he could grip her waist.

Eris was in denial. He ignored all thoughts of the line he was crossing, ignored the fact that there was no other friend that he would hold this way. There was no coming back from this. It was not something he could play off as the adrenaline of battle.

If he was truly supposed to resist, then the Mother was a cruel temptress, placing such a beautiful thing within arms reach and expecting him to keep his hands to himself. He did his best to avoid the base of her wings but once or twice his fingertips brushed the downy feathers there and he suppressed a shudder.

Aya, on the other hand, was far too aware of what this all meant. She felt every single thing that was currently being destroyed within her and rebuilt with Eris at the center. She was steadily heading toward implosion, holding onto reality by the golden thread that linked them together. Utterly paralyzed by his affection.

"Aya," He said, his voice vibrating into her at every place they connected.

He was certain she could hear how loudly his heart was beating, but there was nothing he could do about that now. He also ignored Juno and Salus’ whining, apparently betrayed and very left out of the cuddling.

"Hm?" She mumbled, muffled against his tunic.

"Will you let me apologize, now?"

"For what?"

"For the way I spoke to you at the High Lord's meeting."

A pause. She stood up straight, eyes cast downwards once more as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her cropped shirt.

"I'm sorry," He said, moving one hand from her back to lift her chin, encouraging her to meet his eyes. Unable to bear her avoiding him again. "I didn't expect to see you there, and I was worried. I shouldn't have snapped."

"Why so worried?" Aya furrowed her brows. Her frustration over how easily he touched her poured into her tone. "I do mean it when I say I can take care of myself.”

"You saw…everything that happened with Azriel?" He asked, gaze flickering away for a moment. Aya nodded and he went on, “He was trying to rattle me, when he whispered in my ear. He wanted the upper hand.”

“He threatened you?” Aya whispered, swallowing the pang of protectiveness that rose in her throat.

"He threatened you," Eris said, flames igniting in his eyes.

"What did he say?"

"It doesn't matter now," Eris said, his voice tight. He tugged a hand through his hair and sighed.

I still have nightmares about it, the words were on the tip of his tongue.

"How did he know that you knew me?"

"His shadows tell him things," Eris rolled his eyes, "It would be impressive if it wasn't so damn annoying."

"Why would he threaten me to get to you?"

Eris pursed his lips, something crossing his expression that she couldn't read.

"He doesn't like me," Eris said finally. “He'd do whatever he could to get to me.”

Aya looked down at her feet. “Because of the Morrigan?”

Eris took too long to answer. She looked up at him again. And regretted it, again. Through all of the wounds that she had healed for him, she had never seen such pain on his face. Yet in an instant, it was gone again. She took a step back, and he let her. His hands fell limp as she stepped out of his reach.

“That bothered you?” He asked, memories surfacing of the Morrigan’s face. Stunned, like he'd reached out and struck her. His gaze flickered down to where Aya's hand had absentmindedly reached to clutch at her own stomach at the memory of Mor’s horrific story.

Aya didn't answer, searching his eyes as she chewed her lip. She blinked in surprise when another band of color joined the ones already in place around the courtyard. Another ward.

“I have an alliance with the Night Court,” He said quietly, slowly. And she was all too aware of the value of those words. The treasure he had just placed in her hands. “And my father cannot know. The last he knew, I had not seen her in centuries.”

Aya nodded. That was something she had suspected, but not dared to ask out loud. Not even to Thesan, because she knew that he would not be able to ignore the implications of two courts choosing to ally with each other. There was more, she knew, but Eris was shaking his head, as if to rid the subject from his mind.

Curious and a little too eager, Eris’s head tilted to the side as he asked, “What this?”

He reached for the raven black feather growing among the tones of bronze and gold, stopping just before he made contact. His brows furrowed in concern, wondering if it was some sign of illness. It definitely had not been there before.

“A mourning feather,” Aya whispered, “It's been enchanted to grow in black.”

The question in his eyes was heavy, and if it was anyone but Eris she would not have indulged them.

“There was a soldier I couldn't save in the war,” She went on, eyes focused on something beyond Eris's silhouette, “It's for him. For his family. He asked me to tell them he was sorry.”

Eris was about to say something else, sympathetic words on the tip of his tongue, when he caught something that filled his gut with dread.

“And what is this?” He asked, swallowing hard to keep the disdain from dripping into his tone.

He ran his pointer finger along the new tattoo on her forearm, a band of stars and swirls that he knew all too well. How many places had she been since he last saw her? He looked her over, all of the changes, and his chest tightened. It was like a different shade of Aya. How much more would she change if she went to the Summer Court? Was there even anything he could do to stop her?

Aya watched him, forearm tingling where he'd touched her tattoo. She pursed her lips, suspecting that she did not really need to tell him the answer. Something in her reeled at the possessiveness radiating off of him in waves. And another part of her devoured it, hungry to be claimed as his.

“You made a deal with Rhysand?” He asked, so many things swimming in his eyes. Fear and anger and…awe?

“Yes,” She said, breathing in deep, preparing for him to ask. Wondering if she was ready for him to know. The subject of her powers had not come up yet, and that conversation had not been a part of her plan for this night.

“And I suppose they've swayed you to their side,” Eris spat, the sudden change in tone nearly making her jump. He slumped back in his chair as if he'd been defeated.

“What?” Aya frowned, “What does that mean?”

“They hate me,” He said, petulantly, “And they want you to hate me too.”

“They didn't say anything about you,” Aya said. If she did not had such heavy things on her mind, she may have laughed, always entertained by his flair for the dramatic.

Eris was quiet, cheeks pink beneath his freckles and Aya’s smile faltered. And that was all the heir needed to return to himself again. The desire to fix that somber expression.

“Tell me what bothers you,” He said. And when she didn't answer, he hooked a finger around her wrist and pulled her in closer, spreading his knees apart to make room. If he had his way, he’d pull her down and sit her on his knee, saying something stupid to make her laugh. His apology for acting like a child.

“Tell me,” He said instead, eyes boring into hers.

“At the High Lord's meeting.…I think it surprised me how differently you talk to other people. You don't talk to other people like you talk to me."

"What do you mean?" He asked. But he knew what she meant. He had hoped no one had noticed how differently he treated her. Besides his nosey mother.

"You're not very nice, sometimes."

He made a sound like a cough, but Aya recognized it as a swallowed laugh. That was, perhaps, the most kind and gentle way that anyone had ever called him a cunt. There was amusement in his voice as he spoke, next.

"Words are a game like everything else."

"But it was real hurt in her eyes." Back to the Morrigan, then.

Aya pulled back and looked at him. Now his smile had faded, that amusement gone.

“Yes, it was," He said, solemn eyes glowing, "I hate to say it, but it was a casualty of the war we are in."

She pursed her lips, eyes searching his as she hesitated.

"Say it," He said softly.

"You let yourself become the thing they think you are."

"You think that I am something better than I am." His smile was sad.

How could she tell him that he was wrong? She saw every thread of goodness he was composed of, the same amount as anyone else and maybe more.

"You are good," She said, and she watched his face change as he realized that she meant it – believed it.

It was like her words were an arrow that struck something vital in him. The space between his eyebrows creased, eyes gleaming with something deep and sorrowful. She was worried she had upset him until his hands reached around her once again and pulled her in toward him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed herself to be tucked in against him, willing every good thing she believed about him to make its way into his heart.

They stayed that way for a long time. For too long. Basking in his warmth, enveloped in his whisky and brown sugar scent, her mind had almost melted, forgetting the reason she had come here. She opened her eyes, catching a stray feather come loose from her wing in the soft breeze and fall softly to the ground.

All of the air was knocked out of her lungs as the feather reminded her of her dream. Pushing through those ornate doors, into a library made of dark wood and gilded by Autumn sunshine. An empty library, rows and rows of empty shelves.

She knew what was supposed to be there. This was the room where the evidence of their bond was kept. A catalog of all the moments they had shared, a place for all of the possibilities. The story of their connection. And there had been nothing. Nothing but a single feather, resting lonely on an otherwise empty shelf.

Aya scrambled to push away, untangling her limbs from his. What was he doing, holding her like this? He didn't love her, she had seen the evidence with her own eyes.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him again, though she could feel his wondering gaze glued to her. She couldn't let him do this to her, she had to go. She had to remember her plan, her goodbye.

Even in her anger at being so easily manipulated, guilt colored her cheeks red as she wondered if he'd caught her bluff, that there was no job in the Summer Court. Not yet. Thesan was taking care of that now, charming Tarquin and calling in an imaginary favor that the High Lord's father had owed him. It didn't matter if Thesan agreed with her decision or not, he'd taken one look at her and knew he'd do whatever she'd asked of him. And what Aya needed was for the heartache to end.

“I have to go,” She said quietly, silently cursing the bond for making her whole body ache with the desire not to go. She'd said he was welcome to call again if he needed it, but they both knew he wouldn't do that.

If that library had just had a few more things in it, just a little more evidence that maybe he might care for her, maybe she would have stayed. Maybe she would have fought. But she had woken up from that dream and knew – there was one thing she would never do. She would not try to convince him to love her.

Eris could practically see her slipping through his fingers, her gaze growing distant, shoulders locking up again. Frustration and longing filled his veins, fingers curling into fists in his lap. But if this is what she wanted….

Even if it made his stomach sick, thinking of her running away to the Summer Court and cozying up to Tarquin. Images of him leading her away at that party after the High Lord's meeting, starry-eyed and smitten, floated through his mind. Maybe he'd been overstepping this whole time. Maybe he was right, and he’d already lost her to the Night Court, anyways. Who knows what they told her about him.

Eris stood, spiraling, watching her long lashes brush her cheeks as she stared down at her feet. He swallowed hard, attempting to pull himself together for her sake. Juno and Salus sensed the change, rousing themselves, stretching and making their way to Aya's side again.

“I hope you get some better sleep,” He said. The words felt too light, too casual. He cleared his throat and added, “Edana used to give us an old blessing when had bad dreams.”

Aya dared to look back up at him, determined to memorize every freckle, every fleck of amber in his irises. She opened her mouth to say something, but Eris stopped her. He brought his hands to hold her face gently, like he'd done before. For one terrible moment, she thought he might kiss her. Eyes glued to his lips, her heart hammered against her ribcage.

“Gun sgrìobh am màthair aislingean nas binne dhut a-nochd.” He said the words easily. Then he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Aya was falling apart. Her hands landed on his chest and pushed. She could not handle another moment of this tenderness, this hollow affection. She took a step back, eyes wild and lips parted, as she tried to conjure any of the words she'd planned to say.

“I-” she stammered, stumbling backwards, nearly tripping over Juno as he tried to steady her. “I wish you well, Eris.”

Her voice was a croak. She took another step back, away from Juno, and winnowed out of the courtyard.

Eris stared at the place where she had been, the pair of hounds circling the now empty spot, barking and lamenting their loss. And his knees gave out beneath him, leaving him crouched on the stone patio, head clutched in his hands.

“You used my childhood blessing as a pick up line?” Edana's voice drifted to him. She leaned against the doorway, watching the display of grief happening in her courtyard.

“Now is not the time for jokes, mother,” Eris growled.

Edana shook her head and joined Eris on the patio, gently pushing away the nosey hounds. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into her side.

“Oh, Eris,” She sighed.

It was terrible luck that Aya had chosen to conjure the bond in her dreams that night. If she were to do it again now, things would be very different.

As Eris sat there, overwhelmed and paralyzed by the fact that he may have just lost her, his mind reeled. Going over every moment they had spent together. Every moment she had showed him how incredible she was and he had done nothing. Everything he should have said and done differently. He should have held on tight from the very moment he met her, and never let go. He should have made her his. He cursed himself for waiting for something as stupid as a mate, when Aya had been there all along.

And in some cruel and ironic show from the universe, Aya would find that room would not be empty anymore, that room of possibilities. It was teeming now, with every little thing that made Eris realize he loved her.

At some point, Edana left, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and leaving him alone with his racing thoughts and icy fingers.

It would not be a goodbye, Eris determined. He would not let it be. He would see her again, he would make sure of it. And in the meantime, he'd become worthy of her. He'd fix whatever it was that scared her away, whatever was making her run away from him. Even if that meant punching Tarquin in his perfect teeth and taking her back from the Summer Court.

He'd be better, kinder, smarter. He'd keep his brothers in check, he’d start less fights, he'd even swear off his evening whiskey and throw out his cigars. And finally, he decided, he would get serious about erasing his father from this court.

Because if he was going to do it, make Aya his and bring her home, he had to make it better. He would make it the greatest gift he'd ever give her.

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

Brownie points if you remember where the single feather comes from

How mean would I be if I ended the story here?? JK I won't I promise 🤭

[lucabyte]

Taking pride in One's own appearance.

[undertalethingems]

Unexpected Guests Chapter Ten, Act Two: Page 1

First / Previous / Next

After so much conflict and Gaster's persistence, it seems like a miracle that Frisk and their friends have made it to the skeleton brothers' house unscathed. But there's still much to do, and they don't know how long it will take for the scientist to catch up...

That's right this is another chapter with acts! But I only decided that just now, and it'll probably only be the two, lol. now that we've arrived at the brother's house, things can only keep moving forward...

Apologies for the shorter update--but I hope you'll look forward to the next one, coming September 7th!

[toytulini]

listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.

yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?

maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".

get a better joke

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Wangxian goes to horse jail for their crimes against equines.

[dollypopup]

look, y'all can all gleeful cancel me for this #unpopular opinion if you want, but even IF Nicola wasn't nominated for the comedy section and it was her and Luke head to head in best drama?

I'd still vote for him

because I genuinely and truly think his acting is INCREDIBLE. and I think he's one of the better actors on Bridgerton full stop. I love the nuance he brings to Colin as a character, I love how he so fully embodies him as a character and that Colin has similarities to him, but is fully different at the same time. Colin does not talk like Luke, walk like Luke, even fidget like Luke. He has his own character beats and yes, sometimes parts of Luke bleed into him, such as with the head tilt, but the voice is different, softer, the movements of Colin as a character are distinct to me, he delivers humor well ('you'd already be dead?') and his decisions for Colin as a character are ICONIC (I'm never forgetting that dress adjustment with specific fingers was all him). Colin had a harder go of it than a lot of leads because his story isn't as loud- he doesn't get a lot of big, dramatic moments to have big dramatic acting, and honestly the show didn't give him a lot of screentime in the first place. But when he does have poignant emotional moments? They feel REAL. He isn't given as much time with the audience as other characters are and he doesn't go for the broad strokes with his acting, so sometimes I think he can get lost in some of the louder acting, but that doesn't negate the fact that he's GOOD. He's a good ass actor. He plays Colin like Colin is an actual person.

And for me? For me, that hits home. Even with truncated time on his own season (yeah, I'm still bitter), he delivers every single time. Anger, betrayal, longing, heartache, silly awkward humor, heat- and he does all of those emotions BELIEVABLY. I watched Luke Newton depict Colin falling in love so beautifully and so realistically, I HAVE NO CHOICE but to give him his flowers. Just because he's not as heavy in the hustle as other actors are (please remember this is a neurodivergent actor with anxiety and dyslexia, mental health is important and it's good he took a break ) doesn't mean he's not a fantastic actor. And if you've ever seen his depiction in The Shape of Things? The man is excellent.

I think Bridgerton has a lot of 'big moves' actors. And that's fine. Many people prefer that. But I prefer the nuanced moments and the softer beats of it all, and I think if the camera had allowed us as an audience a longer glimpse into moments with Colin, we'd all be even more floored. I can watch gifs of his scenes over and over and over again and find something new every time.

So y'all can sit there and accuse others of a 'pity vote' but idgaf. Luke Newton is one of the best actors on that show. And I stand by that. Eat me.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[meownotgood]

aki talking to you: have you eaten anything good for you today? sweetheart... if you don't eat well, you could get sick or give yourself a stomach ache. c'mon, I'll make you something, what would you like? maybe some soup, that'd be easy on your stomach. and next time, if you've only got snacks at home, just call me and I'll come over for dinner, okay?

aki talking to denji & power: eat your fucking vegetables

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

why is lettuce so fucking Good

[glitchlight]

it's a difficult position to be in as an environmental scientist and a leftist, and i always try to stay aware of how in the us especially there's a reflexive backlash to this kind of language but: some of yall are fucking delusional about what a sustainable future looks like, and refuse to acknowledge the fact that some of the creature comforts americans have grown used to need to go away. Public transit systems usually kind of suck but it's better than cars. We need to be building a lot more kind of shitty apartments and a lot less private homes. You are setting the AC too damn low. And the entire agriculture and food economy is grossly distorted because people love eating meat and fruit out of season.

[yugiohmangaoutofcontext]

this is not the first time in ygo there's been actual death shown directly to the reader but damn dude

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from today's writing, chapter 27 of Palmarosa:

Astarion locked his fingers together, squeezed down on his own knuckles. ‘The one about not harming, raping, killing up to ten people… I want to add more people to this list.’ ‘Oh? Do tell.’ Astarion stared down at his white knuckles. This was something he had thought about furtively, often, reciting the names to himself and adding names over time. He wanted to be sure. He hated thinking of himself as a soft touch, but Temter had once said that Astarion – in amongst his capricious whims of sadism – could be far too sentimental for his own good. Even implied it might get the whole team in trouble one day. Astarion couldn’t help thinking about that when he was the only one who seemed to be upset that the owlbear had died. Oh, Gale had said something about it, and Shadowheart had taken a feather, but Astarion didn’t think either one of them still thought about the creature. ‘All right,’ Astarion said, voice shaking. ‘All the people in the first list, as well as Eurus, Cymon, Alectrona, her partner Ulzo, Fhaeleb, Fhaeleb’s children, and Karran.’ A long silence, and Astarion looked up from his hands to see a deadness on Raphael’s face. It sent a shiver down his spine, made the muscles in his sore shoulders tense. Something about that list made Raphael more unhappy than Astarion had seen him in a long time. ‘The first four, certainly,’ Raphael then said, the seriousness breaking back to his charm. ‘However-’ ‘-That’s my condition,’ Astarion insisted. ‘I’m not erasing-’ ‘-And you care about Fhaeleb’s children why?’ Raphael said, looking at him with a mocking incredulity on his face. ‘You’ve never even met them.’ ‘Yes, but I-’ ‘Karran is a beastly creature who only lived because you saved her, and is worthless. And Fhaeleb-’ ‘They’re… It’s… Are you going to make this a condition or not?’ ‘Not,’ Raphael said. ‘But-’ ‘I have a solution,’ Raphael said silkily, and Astarion didn’t think it was going to be a good solution at all. He looked around the room, wondering if something else could account for the abrupt chill in the air. ‘Fhaeleb, Fhaeleb’s children and Karran are all worth a separate condition. And that will be it for you, Astarion. No more, if you ask for them to be protected from harm within the duration of the contract.’ ‘What? That’s outrageous.’ ‘You seek to interfere with the contract I have with Fhaeleb,’ Raphael said quietly. ‘You bring a bezekira into my home. You fancy yourself some elf still, wanting to protect elven children? Please, Astarion, I assure you that the farcical nature of this is entirely with you. You’re a vampire spawn, pet, you should be feeding upon these creatures – well, except for the vermin cat – not protecting them.’

[irradiatedsnakes]

i miss ai image generators that suck. i want old artbreeder back so i can make flesh computers again. i want to tell the computer to make something that is 50% website and 50% swimming cap to get the Meat World back

[razypie]

we're close...

we're finally getting some 🔥 cheonliang lore 🔥 in this arc. let's fucking goooo! 💳💥💳💥💳💥

[afkintheark]

Adding to the snake pile. Her name is Fancy, because look at her.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Hahaha I can't eat at all today and I keep feeling like I'm going to throw up, why is my body this