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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@to-proudly-go
Some of my friends can't fathom how I can oscillate from loving the most cliche and fluffiest stories to the most depraved and horrifying ones and like
A love story is a love story because it has love in it–tender, tragic, brutal, unconditional, unconventional, gruesome, simple, complicated love–but it is love all the same, no matter the form
So why should I prefer one over the others when it all gives me the same satisfaction?
I find his lil claws fun to draw.
How much you understand this joke depends entirely on how much RyGos knowledge you have lol
Bc I can't stop chewing on the reason I wrote this post abt Grace having to deliver the taumoeba to Erid alone:
Imagine you're a technician at one of the space observatories on Erid. You're not sure why you're still working on documenting the little crackles and hums of space, Erid is dying anyway, but what else are you gonna do?
And then the sensors pick something garbled up. You tinker, find the right wavelength of long-distance radio transmission, and your claws go numb.
"...you...receive... question"
As soon as you frantically report this, everyone tries to keep it contained. But as the nature of eridians goes, a friend of a friend of a colleague calls Adrian. By the time they make it to the observatory, it's painfully clear that voice isn't Rocky, but you'd have to cleave Adrian open to stop them from being in that room.
So, there they are, a dozen high-ranking eridians, a surviving spouse, and a shaking technician. They press play. The message is eerie, some words rising, others falling, some cut a second before their natural conclusion. It is the voice of second engineer rocky, but something else is speaking through him, halting and unnatural, like a body possessed.
"please receive. Is captain of starship "project last hope". Name is Doctor Grace-Full from Sol-3. Already meet Erid Starship at Tau Ceti. Not able help. Apology. But have star-killer predator on starship. Grace-Full try help Erid. Repeat. Have star-killer predat-"
You could hear a dust mote in that room.
that BeReal meme
An excerpt from the next chapter of Heir Apparent.
Thankfully, they were saved from themselves—and from each other—by Dippet’s letter, which arrived on the sixth day.
Voldemort snatched it up with the desperation of a man on the verge of snapping.
He yanked the library window ajar at the Hogwarts owl’s very first knock, letting in a splash of rain from the greyish, cloudy sky, the raindrops refreshingly cool against his heated face. He shut it after the owl hopped in inelegantly, shaking itself like a dog.
Frazzled and rain-dampened, the pygmy owl dropped its rolled-up, beribboned, soggy letter onto the study table and hooted in complaint until Voldemort tossed it a few rinds of bacon from one of Flopsy’s plates.
Harry cooed at the creature and cast a drying spell that had its feathers fluffing up comically, like a ball of cotton; Harry laughed softly and petted it with genuine affection. The owl, tired and cold as it was, nudged its head against Harry’s palm and closed its eyes in relief. Voldemort doubted many others on its routine delivery routes bothered to cast drying spells on it and dote on it every time it rained.
Harry’s compassion had, unsurprisingly, won a new admirer. Perhaps Harry was especially fond of owls; it certainly seemed so. Voldemort should see to getting him an owl of his own… though then Voldemort would have to tolerate Harry touching and caring for yet another that wasn’t him.
But if it brought Harry joy… Surely that outweighed any discomfort on Voldemort’s part.
Even if it made him grit his teeth.
The letter announced, in elegant, swirling blue ink, that Dippet would be willing to meet with them tomorrow, at four in the afternoon, when the school day would be over and students would be out and about in the corridors.
Excellent. The more people were milling about, the easier it would be to blend in under disguises and to linger in the school for an hour or two after they were supposed to leave…
Voldemort turned to Harry with a smile. “We have an invitation, my heir.”
Harry groaned. “You and your invitations.”
“I thought you’d be more enthusiastic about me re-absorbing one of my Horcruxes.”
“I am, I just—” Harry ruffled the owl’s nape as its eyes remained shut in enviable bliss. “I’m worried about the part where you’re supposed to be hurt, where you’re supposed to feel bad, and…”
“And you do not wish for me to suffer.”
“No.” Harry looked away as though ashamed. But then he looked back again. Fearless. “Even when—even when, objectively, morally, you deserve it. For each… each of those murders, the victims deserve justice. They deserve your remorse, at least, if not your—” Harry stopped, as if he could not bear to continue.
Voldemort completed the sentence for him. “If not my pain?” Oh, Harry ought not to feel shame for recognising that Voldemort was evil, that Voldemort had done evil; that was a fact, and Harry was far too intelligent, honest and brave to not discern that reality and openly state it. “I deserve the worst of damnations, Harry, and I have never feared them. Else I would not have split my soul.” He set the letter down, walked across to Harry and knelt before him, taking the hand that wasn’t petting the owl. “That is my karma, not yours. Besides, for you, I would do any penance. For you, all pain would be ecstasy.”
Harry chuckled bitterly. “Not sure masochistic sacrificial pleasure is, er, the goal here. It’s supposed to be horrid.”
Voldemort hummed. “I’m sure it will be. Magic always claims her dues. Perhaps paying them now will spare me an ignominious end in the future.”
“I want you to have a future,” Harry whispered. “I want you to… to be happy, really happy, with all of your heart. I want you to not live a half-life with a broken soul that’s burdened by debt.”
“I know,” Voldemort replied gently, placing a kiss on Harry’s knee before rising. “I know, Harry. I want to love you with all that I am, too.”
Harry sucked in a breath.
The owl, disturbed from its rest by Voldemort’s intrusion, sent him a truly malevolent glower for interrupting its Harry-time—a sentiment Voldemort could very much relate to—before flitting over to the window.
Voldemort opened it to let the bird out.
Then he stood there and watched the rain, allowing it to pelt him. He wondered if the agony of remorse would cleanse him like rainwater cleansed the earth, or whether it would be akin to being scoured by acid, cleaving his very flesh from his bones.
But Harry would be with him through it all. And if Harry held him afterwards, if Harry soothed him, well, would that not be worth any injury?
[READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS HERE.]
Fastest way to get to your soulmate
“it’s so disheartening when sex crazed fans can’t just leave relationships platoni—”
NO. HE HAS TO FUCK THE ROCK.
Looking for an opportunity to show more of your Project Hail Mary Eridian OCs? 👀 Then you won’t have to travel too far! This is…
🌟 Life on Erid: A PHM Eridian OCs Zine 🌟
Interested? 🤗 Answer this interest check form if you want to see this come to life. 🎶
The eridian welcoming community comics always have me giggling so I wanted to try one
"He really became that voice for me like Rocky was for Grace" pack it up pack it up
From this article please read it and get giddy
Hiiiii!
I know you've been asked this already by other people, but is is alright with you if I get your " grace rocky save stars" drawing as a tattoo? If not I completely understand!
Hellooo and yep it's alright with me!!! ✨
Is not enough
Can't stop thinking about Jaskier trying to court Geralt with courting jewelry (2)
(1)
Skyflowers Art & Ficlet
With the last couple of art comms being based off of classical artworks, I thought about doing another Van Gogh-inspired art, and when I came upon his Sunflowers series, it gave me the idea of the sunflowers being blue (again, it's because of Anakin and Obi-Wan's blue lightsabers!) and then I thought -- OH! Why not put an ancient Greek style vase art on the vase instead of it being just a single colour??? That was such a winning combination in my head that I reached out to @tomicaleto to see if she'd be interested. I was THRILLED when she agreed since I've been wanting to work with her for a long while since she's a fellow Obikin fan!
So bam! After she saw my horrible doodle of the idea I wanted, she took it and ran in an amazing direction because WOW, guys, each progress update made me squeal in happiness, and it even inspired me to write a little ficlet! I'd not written anything since that Karkiki/Labubu ficlet in January, so I'm glad I was able to get the words out.
Fic is here if you're interested! Thanks to @to-proudly-go for betaing (and for always putting up with me XD). And I always thank @barmadumet and her Streets of Gold for influencing me to like Padme/Fives. And of course, I had to throw in my Essel Jaksun!
Thank you again, Tomicaleto, for working with me and bringing my idea to life! The flowers turned out beautiful, and so did the art on the vase! Thank you for the suggestion on adding their signature poses off to the side to give the vase more life. Gracias, my friend!!!
ANYWAY. I hope you all like the art and fic!
Your blood, what matter is it made of?
Do you feel it travel in and out your heart?
Forget me not
