Four fried chickens and a Coke.
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Reblogged from anachronistique  1,443 notes

As for the fate of Hope Pym’s mother, Janet Van Dyne — aka the original the Wasp — actor Michael Douglas revealed that she is indeed in the movie but dies in some sort of accident. By

lol bye (via vivacosima)

They’re FRIDGING JAN? What the actual fuck.

(via eightforawish)

Not enough “fuck you” in the world.

(via reflectedeve)

at this point both DC and Marvel fandoms have merged into this huge amorphous blob that's simultaneously horribly entitled and pathetically fixated upon ignoring everything wrong with their respective companies and the fact that both are slowly collapsing under the weight of their own canon and only bothering to pander to fans when a very obvious source of profit is readily apparent

Reblogged from tamorapiercefemslash  19 notes


thequeenpatches submitted:

With a delicate shiver, Thayet wrapped the wool blanket draped over her shoulders more tightly around herself, even as she leaned further out of the open window. Buri watched her as she followed the tiny dots of colour dart and weave on the snow below them, careful as the day she had been given in service to the queen so many years ago. The other women sometimes said she watched Thayet’s face as the queen watched the world, but no matter how many years had passed Buri didn’t see what more the world could offer.

“I can’t even tell who is who,” Thayet mumbled after a moment, thumping her forehead against the window pane as she frowned down at the twirling figures.

Buri snorted a laugh, but straightened her features when Thayet glanced mischievously over at her from beneath her long lashes. “Rolan’s boy is the one in green,” she offered, glancing away from the beautiful woman to find the fleck of green running about across the snow-covered courtyard below them.

Thayet grinned at her; the years had only added to her beauty, fine lines forming beside her sparkling eyes and thinning lips, deep with decades of good humour. “At least you know my grandchildren,” she said, raising a dark eyebrow at Buri, and the other woman smiled, keeping her eyes on the children frolicking below them.

“Someone has to keep you organized, my lady,” she murmured.

Thayet’s undoubtedly sharp reply was interrupted by a shriek from the coutyard; one of the specks of colour had fallen, splayed across the white snow like a baby deer learning its legs. The child wailed, kicking snow around themself as the other children circled them, shouts ranging from concern to mockery.

Thayet leaned half-way out the window before Buri could grab her, backside in the air as she swung precariously on her white-knuckled grip of the windowsill. “You’re okay, my love!” she called, ignoring Buri as she flung her arms around the queen’s waist in a wild panic. “Get back up and show them what the royal family are made of!”

“Thayet!” Buri snapped, tugging her queen back into the bedroom roughly. The women stumbled backwards, limbs flailing, and Thayet laughed as Buri caught her again, rolling effortlessly to the tips of her toes to avoid stepping on Buri’s feet. She tilted her head back against Buri’s wide shoulder, belly shaking with her laughter beneath the commander’s strong hold. Buri spat the giggling woman’s grey curls out of her mouth sullenly, and Thayet whirled gracefully in her arms, weaving her long fingers through Buri’s short hair and smiling at her frown.

“I like when you call me Thayet,” she said, working a knot in Buri’s hair with gentleness. “You should do it more often.”

“My lady,” Buri said evenly, just to see Thayet frown. “You can’t just fling yourself out of windows any more.” Her eyes followed the other woman’s strong cheekbones, taking a moment to drink in her beauty.

“Any more?” Thayet laughed. “You act like I’m already half-way in my grave.” She leaned her forehead against Buri’s, so close that her long eyelashes tangled with Buri’s own. “Call me Thayet.”

“You promised the children you would watch them, my queen,” Buri said. Her hands flexed against the other woman’s back. Her foolish heart tried to beat its way through her chest to its rightful home with Thayet’s.

The queen’s eyes narrowed; after all these years, they were still the same, bright and clever and sparkling with that intoxicating spirit which somehow took away both Buri’s breath and her patience. No matter what separate paths they walked, she could always find her impossible mistress when she looked into those shining eyes. “Call me by my name,” Thayet said. She slipped her arms over Buri’s shoulders to cradle the commander’s face, tilting her head to flatten her nose against Buri’s.

“Thayet,” Buri whispered, dizzy with the other woman’s closeness. She felt the queen’s smile form against her lips, and before she softened her mouth into the kiss she mumbled, pointedly, against her gasping mouth, “My Thayet.”


*Shyly tries to contribute to femslash week at the last minute*