(It’s funny, he thinks, how he can set up a whole windy barrier around a house almost an hour away from civilization and they still try to get inside when they think the Empress is visiting. Of course, the worst are the tabloids convinced they’re having an illicit interspecies romance and desperate for any photo they can take. Last week’s Enquirer had a cover story featuring an image of John screaming as tiny sea troll babies burst from his stomach. The tagline had read HUMANS TO HOST ALIEN OFFSPRING and John hadn’t even bothered to turn to page 2. Funny how the truth would have worried humanity more; it was such a good idea he’d talked Feferi out of telling them everything right away.)

my problem with the ‘harry becomes lord of 2/¾/5 ancient noble houses’ trope is so unbelievably petty because its that fic writers don’t take it to the potential extreme. like, okay, you wanna make harry the bossest of bitches i get that, i understand, i have that urge too from time to time, but c’mon, be a little more creative about it please

This is a dangerous game that they're playing.

After much deliberation, careful study, and scientific analysis, Wes Janson decides that the Fate Of The Galaxy is entirely dependent on the state of Senator-Princess Leia Organa's hair.

The pen is mightier than the sword, or how Zuko saves the day via the power of good penmanship.

“What,” Nie Mingjue said, even as Jin Zixuan got up with a set expression on his face to accept a bow from his servant, “are you doing?” Jin Zixuan paused, looking puzzled – and no surprise, since Nie Mingjue hadn’t said anything beyond the most mundane greetings when he first arrived. “Sect Leader Nie..?” Nie Mingjue rose to his feet, his brother’s hand falling off of his arm as if he’d shaken him off like a dog. “What are you doing?” he demanded, louder this time. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng hadn’t liked Nie Huaisang well enough, when they were all learning together in the Cloud Recesses. Anyone who had the energy to keep up with Wei Wuxian – and just enough good sense to help veer him off the really bad ideas, even if he did keep egging him on in regards to the medium-grade bad ones – was good news in his books. But liking him didn’t mean respecting him, and the fact that Nie Huaisang hadn’t participated much in the war – couldn’t participate much – had led Jiang Cheng to discount him more or less entirely. That’s what made it all the more surprising when Nie Huaisang ended up being the unofficial leader of the three remaining Great Sects in opposing Jin Guangshan after the war.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Smoker doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this but it better have been worth it to make up for the situation he’s stuck in. He’s no stranger to getting assigned chores and duties below his rank, but this is a new low. And now he’s stuck on a restaurant ship with the newest recruit and the order to keep her out of trouble while the rest of the crew tries to track down Dracule Mihawk to find out why he decided to visit the East Blue of all places. How they ever lost track of whatever big-ass galleon one of the Seven Warlords would surely travel on, he has no idea.