#all of this is jokes obvs

[ministarfruit]

day 18: once upon a time ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[darling-stardust]

[delicioustarong]

"BECAUSE SINGING KILLED MY GRANDMA OKAY!"

[sugenberry]

This is a callout post for all Logan Sargeant authors on AO3 esp loscar shippers. Why are you all using your talents to make me cry??? Every time I open the site I'm reading these amazing fics that leave me in tears, I'm actually worried I'll be dehydrated soon.

Me fr:

Is being a LS2 fan not hard enough? Should I hold a contest to see who can write the funniest or happiest fic? Is that what I need to do to stop all this angst???

[bigidiotenergytm]

It doesn't matter How hot any Odysseus design Is, that wet cat bitch will not top anyone FOR SHIT.

But that's Just ma opinion...

look, im JUST saying, there's a reason homer described his thighs so much-

[shalomniscient]

im feixiao dad brainrotting and methinks modern feixiao would work in the military, maybe she adopts a kid too who like her also grew up in an active warzone and lost their parents. maybe she rescues this kid and the kid is now attached to her and vice versa.

she's definitely making that kid get into boxing when they are old enough

omg this could be an expansion to modern!au feixiao lore… feixiao who goes into the military after college maybe for family reasons to honor yueyu or to become like her. she climbs up the ranks with remarkable speed, known in the barracks for her strength, resilience and courage. she makes a point to always call you when she can, even when she’s on deployment. knowing you’re back home waiting for her is always motivation for her to push through.

borisin territory is always a model of hell, though. she slogs through it, gunblades at the ready, her finger always on the trigger. jets shriek over her head, and in the distance she can hear the xianzhou LUX cannons powering up. it hums in the back of her mind, a low vibration in her ears, and she thinks it’s the worst part about the whole job. but she presses ever onward, like a bullet, cutting down borisin slavers and breaking the chains of any slaves under her heel. each one both breaks her heart and drives her forward, but one particular one has her stilling.

a child, with a shock of pure white hair, kneeling in the bloodstained mud, looking up at her with a look feixiao recognises—a look she remembers.

she swallows, then casts her gaze again back to the battlefield. the borisin are retreating, fleeing with their tails between their legs. the lux arrow sings overhead, then detonates the routing borisin with a dull, distant final note. she moves without thinking, crouching down and shielding the child with her body from the harsh winds produced in the fallout.

she feels tiny hands fist in the front of her uniform, wetness in the crook of her neck, and something in feixiao’s heart breaks.

she takes the child back to the xianzhou base, and they refuse to part from her. even when it came to getting the child a medical check-up, they nearly wept themselves unconscious at having to be separated from feixiao. feixiao had to be the one to bathe them; or at least, pass a wet rag over their skin and face for now since she physically couldn’t get them to let her go to properly bathe them. as the child dozes off in her arms that first night, still clinging tight to her, she leans her head back and sighs softly.

what is she even going to tell you?

she prepares for the worst, but you take it… remarkably in stride. you’re surprised, certainly, but she thinks you can see the bond that’s formed between the two, from the way the child holds onto feixiao when she walks through the airport terminal to you. she told you about it in advance over the phone, of course, she wouldn’t spring something so huge as a child on you out of nowhere. but still, it makes her knees nearly give out in relief when she sees you offer the child a small smile and a gentle greeting. you make a point to not get too close to the child when you give her a quick welcome back kiss, ensuring they get to have their personal space, and it warms her heart.

it takes some time for the kid to open up to you, but it happens faster than feixiao expects. or maybe she does expect it somewhat; you’ve always been good with her. in any case, progress is steady—for the first few months the child only ever speaks to feixiao since she knows firsthand how to handle such a child, but soon they start asking you for little things with one word questions, then full sentences, and then they start really talking to you, pointing out things they notice or asking how things work. her heart feels like it might burst the first time she sees the child take your hand in a crowded mall, and she quickly leans over the tiny tears of joy that gather in your lashes.

sometimes she’s so full of love for the both of you she feels dizzy with it. the first time she comes home to see you snuggled on the couch with the child in your arms, both sleeping soundly, she nearly weeps. instead she grabs a blanket from the wardrobe then cuddles right up next to you both, wrapping you in her arms. this is her family now—hers. and there’s nothing in the world she wouldn’t do for you both.

[libraryleopard]

hbo max changing the title of their dune prequel show from from dune: sisterhood to dune: prophecy

[caramelldansenu]

🤷

[myokk]

Imelda x Poppy🥹💓

[gurenmonster]

I told y'all he was a monsterfucker /j

(Official concept art for the Mario Bros Movie, from this thread)

[fleshandwires]

hello waspbee nation how we doin, i offer you sketches

@woozywaspy

[rooolt]

I must speak my truth and that is I simply do not understand the urge to ship Callie and Calder without Sol. They wouldn’t do that to him.

[faunandfloraas]

Chan almost ate shit and all anyone can focus on is spoilers 😔

[seasnailfish]

hey so is the tumblr part of the fandom still alive because ive got scary trio crumbs

[leupagus]

Half of this fic is just me looking for more excuses to put in all the cool women that the show wrote out

Still working on the next chapter for the GOT rewrite from hell, but I had to write a little about how the fuck menstruation works in Westeros (other than "oh you can get married now!" which I refuse to believe is the norm) and also to introduce the Sphinx:

The next morning, Shireen woke up to find blood on her shift and a sharp sort of twist in her stomach, as though she'd swallowed a molten pin. The blood came out easily enough, with frantic scrubbing in the basin, but the pain grew over the course of the morning.

"It's your flowering," said Maester Alleras briskly, when she went to him in a tightly-controlled panic. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," said Shireen, realizing the date. Her nameday had passed two weeks ago.

"And what do you know of flowering?" he asked, smiling slightly at her blush. "Forgive me, but Northerners have queer ideas of teaching their children about these matters. I do not wish to presume your level of education."

"I know it can last for a week or more," Shireen said, thinking of Mother's cycles, how she would confine herself to her rooms to endure the pain in solitude and prayer. "It's very painful and disgusting, but it allows me to bear my future husband's children and therefore is a gift from the gods."

"Hmm. Well, that is what you were taught, at least," grunted the maester. He got up from his desk, rummaging through the cupboard behind him. He was a tall, skinny young man with the deep brown skin and tightly-coiled hair of a Summer Islander, and shared their fondness for brightly-colored nails: they seemed to dance along the shelves until he plucked out a jar and presented it to her with a flourish. "This will help with the pain, and stop the bleeding after this cycle. People of the North use it a great deal."

"Is it moon tea?" Shireen asked, taking it gingerly and wondering at Maester Alleras's use of the term Northerners, which sounded different from People of the North. Perhaps in the Summer Isles, everyone on Westeros was a Northerner. "Why do they use it so much here?"

"It is," he confirmed, "and as for why..." He shrugged. "I've only just arrived in Winterfell, you understand, and as you may have guessed—" this said with another smile— "I was born elsewhere. But from what I've gathered, they must be careful when they have children. The North can only feed so many."

Shireen thought of Fire & Blood, which Father had read to her as a child. The Winter Wolves had been a company of Northerners, who had answered Lord Cregan's call to fulfill the Pact of Ice and Fire with Rhaenyra Targaryen. They'd been greybeards who had knowingly marched to their deaths, for such was the custom of the North back then: at the start of each winter, the old men of each keep and castle and holdfast would choose amongst themselves who would go out into the snows. Some would return home in the spring, having endured the cold or escaped it to find their fortunes in southron lands; most would not.

"Put a thimbleful of this into whatever tea you like best," Maester Alleras continued, gesturing at the jar, his fingernails catching the light as it streamed into the rookery. "Once a day, and come back when you need more."

"Shouldn't I ask—" Shireen bit her lip.

But the maester caught her meaning; his eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you ask your parents? Yes, I suppose you should. But they should be here to be asked, and they should have told you the truth."

"What's the truth?" Shireen asked, instead of admitting that Mother and Father had never told her anything about it. She couldn't imagine either of them even mentioning the subject. All her information had come from books, or from Mother's complaints.

"The truth is that if a cycle is painful and lasts for a week or more, that is the sign of an illness, not the will of a god. The truth is that you may well find it disgusting, but it is merely something our bodies do and should never be a source of disgust or shame to you or anyone else." He glared, though it did not seem directed at her. "And as for 'bearing your future husband's children,' the truth is that they are your children, just as much as his — indeed more so, unless he carries them about for the first nine months after their birth. But you will not be a woman grown for at least another two years, and any man who wishes you to bear children until at least that time is unworthy of your hand or your love." He sat back down, his half-dozen maester's links chiming musically. "Now run along, little princess."

Lady Sansa was just outside the door, with her brother beside her. "See, I told you she smelled funny," Rickon said triumphantly.

Shireen scowled at him. "Shut up." It was kind of him, she supposed, to have worked out that something was wrong and to wait for her outside the maester's chambers. But Rickon Stark was the sort of friend who was difficult to be grateful for.

"Yes, please do, Rickon," Lady Sansa said, pressing a businesslike kiss on the crown of Rickon's head before turning him round by the shoulders and pushing him down the corridor. Rickon protested, but went all the same, and Lady Sansa turned back to Shireen. "Moon tea?" she asked, nodding at the jar.

Shireen resisted the impulse to hide it somehow. It is merely something our bodies do and should never be a source of disgust or shame. "Yes, my lady," she said.

"Come along, then," said Lady Sansa. "I have some excellent tea from the Arbor. How does that sound?"

"Could I have a hot water-skin, too?" Shireen asked, as Lady Sansa looped her arm through hers.

"Of course. And the lemon trees in the greenhouse have given up their first fruits — we'll have lemon cakes for lunch instead of venison." She smiled and Shireen thought that even if Sansa Stark never took another husband or had children of her own, she was still all the mother that the North ever would need.

[svtskneecaps]

if i get a purgatory 3 before the year is out i'm so sorry i'm going to be INSUFFERABLE