#we know

[civilorange]

You flip a coin.

Fair, is fair, is fair—you tell yourself. You blame luck, and fate, and gods you don’t rightly believe in. You cry when you meet Imogen’s gaze—her eyes cracking open and spilling despair, her lips pressing tight enough that those animal soft whimpers are only high pitched noise. Barely human, sadly real.

You don’t know what to do, you don’t know who to save—until you do.

You flip a coin.

Heads, you save Laudna. Tails, you save Orym.

You flip a coin.

Glinting like a prayer answered as it spins edge over edge in the air; you track it with your eyes, you see the edges of images etched into the metal. Heads, tails—heads, tails—heads, tails. Over and over; who lives, and who dies.

You don’t know what to do—until you do.

You slap a hand over the outcome, you squeeze your eyes shut and lift it just enough that you can peek under your palm. See the outcome, see the promise. You blink hard, your lips pinch and your ears flatten back and bristle.

You’re not good, but you’re not bad—you’re wild, and chaotic, and free. You’re a stranger in a strange land, a visitor in the stories of others—even when your own comes calling. You’re sideways, and bright, and endlessly messy.

You’re fey—which means, inherently, you’re selfish.

Tucking the coin away, you exhale and open your eyes, pressing hands against Laudna you promise her you’ll find a way to save her. You whisper un-truths because they’re hazy and thick on your tongue. You don’t know if you can save her—though you will try.

You only know that the coin landed on heads, and in that moment you knew fate didn’t matter. Luck didn’t matter. And above all else, gods didn’t matter. What matters is that Orym is yours, as readily as the trinkets stuck in your fur and the half-truths in your heart. A piece of you that is kind, and strong, and forgives you all your outlandish flaws.

Orym is yours, and it wasn’t until fate—or luck, or gods—said he deserved to die that you decided the choice was already made in your heart long before you flipped a coin.

Orym—the answer was always Orym.

[countingstars-17]

Q: "Max did you win at padel?"

Max: "Not really."

[spaciebabie]

something funny just happened ta me

plus bonus review that made me guffaw:

[fuckalicent]

misty is really fun when you don’t have a miserable bitch in your ear talking about how she’s insane

[philsrosesweatshirt]

everyone’s sleeping on phil saying there’s a dil doll in his bedside drawer. king of comedy.

[fan-fangirl-world]

“Chris and Leon are soulmates”

Also the soulmates:

Capcom knows they’re like an old married couple that’s why they fight but love each other.

[tanked-up]

Soap talking to Price: I just don’t understand! I mean, I was a good boyfriend, I gave her everything, and now she randomly tells me “We’re over”!?

Price: Listen Soap, sometimes people-

Ghost: If I was your boyfriend, I'd pepper you with kisses and gifts and spoil you so bad.

Soap: What

Price: …

[on-my-way-to-lesser-things]

The Westenra Polycule being cannon by virtue of blood transfusions is probably the absolute funniest way this could have played out and I for one am living for it! Seal your polycule with a blood pact!!

[periodically-puzzled]

talking to my dad about spideypool again and he says all excitedly "maybe spider-man likes deadpool because he's the one person he can't accidentally kill" and I'm just so proud of him for coming to that conclusion all on his own

[slaymiedrysdale]

Big pp’s okayyyy

[goaliekisses]

nobody:

sid: did you know i love geno and tanger?

[eesttm]

[sunnysideprincess]

Tony: *walking into the room* Hi I'm—

Bucky: *flexes his arm*

Steve: *bulges his tiddies*

Tony: —horny.

[bearotonin-international]

Why are all the bears you post very poor little meow meows when they are deadly beasts (affectionate) in real life 🥺🥺 ur going to be the death of me (if i ever live in a place with bears 🐻)

Not true. Bearotonin International aims to provide responsible bear programming. Which means occasional reminders that bears are lethal beasts that can maul and eat you and permanently unsubscribe your life from existence if so tempted.

So, in an attempt to remind all of you NOT to be tempted to pet bears, here is a dose of responsible bear programming

[virtchandmoir]

tessavirtue17: Paris, je t’aime

[somebluenovember]

I am just so fully sick of russia. 

I would say *tired* but the situation is that in Eastern Europe, our countries don’t have the *privilege* to be tired of it. We can’t ever tire, because as soon as we do, that bloody imperially-delusioned-gas-station-sh*thole of an excuse for a country figures another bit of another independent country (that wants bloody nothing to do with russia ever again) is available for grabs. And we cannot tire of helping Ukraine, because they fight for us all. It’s a duty, and one I’m proud of.

The thing is, if I never ever had to hear a single thing about russia again, I’d be entirely happy. I know it’s not likely to happen, but. Honestly. Keep the entire thing, the culture, the arts, I don’t want to hear any of it. I’m not *phobic*, i’m just fully sick of it. Just think of all the stuff we all could be doing, if russia wasn’t a bloodthirsty colonialism and oil powered monster.

Also, to all the negotiations-enthusiasts and peace-callers out there, in the words of Sanna Marin, the PM of Finland, in reply to a journalist asking what “the way out of the conflict” would be: “The way out of the conflict is for Russia to leave Ukraine. That’s the way out of the conflict.”