#if you hadn't guessed

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Did some work on the next two chapters of tbbw instead of working on the rewrite, so here's a rare sneak peak:

“So, care to tell my why you insisted on being so cryptic over the phone-”

Klaus froze halfway inside the trailer Sam had directed him to with less than detailed instructions, eyes widening on the arrow embedded in Sam’s chest and the long, thin metal wire attached to it that led to a suspiciously shaped bomb-like box fixed onto the trailer’s wall.

“Let’s face it,” Sam said with a wince, standing very, very still. “This isn’t the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.”

Still, like he was, in fact, attached to a bomb.

“Sam,” Klaus said eventually, stepping fully inside and closing the door without taking his eyes off the bomb-like box, the pin attached to the wire shaking every time Sam breathed. “Tell me that is not a bomb.”

Sam hesitated for half a second. “It’s not a bomb.”

Klaus glared at him. “Sam.”

Careful not to twist his body, Sam turned his head towards Klaus, licking his lips nervously. “You know, if you think about it, this is all your fault.”

Klaus felt his eye twitch. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one that told me to look into this Connor Jordan guy!”

Klaus gaped, face twisting with anger. “I told you to look into him, not to engage with him!” he hissed, stepping forward. His eyes trailed down to the arrow embedded in Sam’s chest, thankfully several inches too far to the right to have hit his heart.

“How was I supposed to know he had a bomb hooked up to his death-trap trailer?” Sam hissed back, earning him another glare that effectively silenced any further protests. “Look, can you, I don’t know, just cut the arrow out. I would myself but…” 

Sam raised a hand, moving to touch the metal wire attached to the bomb.

“Don’t-” Klaus warned, too late, closing his eyes when Sam flicked it, the vibration travelling all the way down to the pin. It didn’t pull out. Sam brought his hand away, making a sound with his mouth that mimicked an explosion.

“I’m going to kill you,” Klaus deadpanned.

“Not if the bomb kills me first.”

“Just-” Klaus snapped his mouth shut, using every shred of willpower he had to stop himself from strangling the idiot. “Don’t move. Let me think.”

He moved around to stand behind Sam, inspecting the arrowhead sticking out of Sam’s back as he contemplated his options. It wasn’t some amateur thing, crafted carelessly and put together - it was professional. A thick, sturdy, pitch-black shaft with a sleek metal head, dipped in vervain if the sting when he touched it was anything to go by. His eyes narrowed, grabbing a mean-looking combat knife the hunter must have left behind off the side and resting the serrated edge against the shaft, wondering if he cut the head off. He couldn’t break it with brute force - too risky. The jolt could set the bomb off.

“So, how well did you know this Pastor Young?” Sam asked to fill the silence as Klaus worked, grunting a little as Klaus began to try and saw it off. He reached down to the table next to him to grab one of the pieces of paper strewn all over the surface, ignoring Klaus’ earlier warnings of staying still. “Did you talk to him much at your mother’s Ball?”

Klaus didn’t look up from his work. “I can’t say I did. Why?”

“I think he’s the one who contacted your hunter,” Sam said, causing Klaus to look up. He raised the letter, so Klaus could see it. “Mad as a box of cats by the way. He wrote a letter about sacrifice and war brewing in Mystic Falls.”

Klaus paused what he was doing to look over Sam’s shoulder at the letter, skimming the contents. “A greater evil is coming?” he read aloud, brows furrowing.

“Yeah, crazy, right?” Sam hissed as Klaus resumed his work, grunting painfully as the arrow shifted inside him. He forced a smile, tilting his head in Klaus’ direction. “Hey, do you think he was talking about you?”

Klaus sent him a mock-glare, unimpressed. He ran the blade across the arrow’s shaft perhaps a little too forcefully, nudging it inside Sam’s flesh, causing the younger hybrid to wince, stifling a cry. He nearly didn’t remember to remain still in time.

“I can’t cut it out,” Klaus decided, observing this and stepping back. He dropped the bloody knife on the table. “It’s too thick and one small movement, it’ll get very messy very fast.”

“Then what do we do?” Sam asked, voice shaking. His brave bravado was finally cracking.

Klaus stared at the arrow embedded in Sam’s chest, gaze flickering up to meet his. “You’re going to tear it out.”

Sam frowned, looking quite annoyed. “And how does that stop me from getting fried again?”

“You tear it out and I’ll flash you to safety before that bomb ignites.”

Sam paused as he thought that over. “Are you sure you’re fast enough to do that?”

Klaus turned, opening the door of the trailer, knowing that was one less obstacle he had to worry about. “Only one way to find out,” he muttered under his breath. Sam still heard him.

“That’s not reassuring, Nik,” he said, eyes slightly wide, almost pleading. “I don’t want to end up as a human kebab.”

Klaus raised a challenging eyebrow, stepping towards Sam and grabbing his shoulders. “Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

“Then human kebab it is,” Klaus declared, nodding. “On 3?”

“Fuuuuck,” Sam whispered, breath shaky.

Klaus ignored him, beginning the countdown. Sam raised his hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around the end of the arrow’s shaft.

“1…2…3!”

Sam yanked the arrow out and Klaus heard the click of the pin flying out but he was already moving, hands gripping Sam’s shoulders, pulling him with him as he flashed out the trailer. The world blurred around them and behind, the air roared as the bomb ignited, exploding through the trailer and blasting out the windows. The heat of the explosion licked at their backs, the force of the blast sending them flying several feet before crashing into the ground, saved from the worst of it. Groaning, they both rolled onto their backs, Sam the first to sit up on his elbows and survey the damage.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Sam commented, eying the smoking wreckage.

As if taunted by his words, there was a terrifying hiss from the trailer and a second later, the gas supply had ignited, a secondary explosion ripping through the structure, blasting it to smithereens. Pieces of roofing and wall were thrown in every direction in the ensuing fireball and they both ducked, flinching away from the dangerous fiery projectiles as they crashed to ground all around them.

Slowly, Klaus turned to look at Sam, his expression thunderous. 

“You were saying?”

[if-mirrormine]

GUESS WHO HAS A GIRLFRIEND BESTIESSSSS🥳🥳

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

trying to write a character fucking up at their job when they're supposed to be good at it without undermining their alleged skill is a... fine line

[icefell]

"Since I've been streaming .... I'm kinda curious of what my viewers think of me!"

[martianbugsbunny]

Okay so maybe rewatching Thor for the Loki content was a bad idea because wow the ending of Loki really does parallel the ending of that movie, the way Jane searches for Thor with her scientific equipment because that's how she found him in the first place, the way Mobius waits for Loki at his own spot on the timeline because he knows that's where Loki would choose to be, the way both brothers know their loves still have hope for them and they smile

[collophora]

TBB cadets ideas

[yangjeongin]

6 YEARS WITH STRAY KIDS — #Youtiful6YearsOfSKZ

[anna-scribbles]

they should've been at the club(infertility treatment centers)

[thevoicefromthestars]

so i'm trying to come to terms with starship iris ending, y'know, as one does when there's a project that you auditioned for on a whim as a total amateur, eight years and a lifetime ago, that is finally coming to a close, and i am really truly trying not to get sappy about it. but.

in another universe, there is no ishani kanetkar. she was born with this show, for this show, and it's still a little unbelievable to me that there are people i've never met who know who she is. it's even wilder that there are people i HAVE met who want her, this person who has never been fully real but has always still been me, to help them tell their own stories.

i recorded the pilot episode on my wired earbuds' built-in microphone, in a bedroom in my grandparents' home in mumbai. those grandparents are gone; that house of my memory too. but every time i come back to this show, i remember sitting on the bed of the small room that once belonged to my great-aunt, trying and failing to find a scrap of quiet so that kay grisham could tell violet liu it would all be okay.

so maybe some of the things i'm feeling are for the end of a story, but i think some of them are also for the ishani who started telling it, who can't go back. some of them are for ishani kanetkar, this ephemeral self and not-self, whose own time is one day going to be over. and some of them are just for me, now, who looks forward to a future with other projects and other people but not this project, with these people, and is sad to say goodbye. i hope i can do my part to give it a truly phenomenal send-off.

[aro-aizawa]

i like to think everyone has a colour associated with them, whether its just your fave colour or what you generally wear most of or what colour your bedroom walls are. i always associate the name sophie with dark blue, my mum is always a nice turquoise, i like to think my colour is a bright sunflower yellow.

if you have a specific shade pls tell me i adore when ppl have associated colours and tell me them, bc i think of them when i see that colour

[getvalentined]

Disappointed that, in spite of using a more accurate translation in Chapter 2 of Crisis Core, EC has switched over to the original English localization for Chapter 3—in spite of having Japanese audio, meaning you can literally hear that the lines exchanged between Genesis and Sephiroth are NOT WHAT THE SUBTITLES SAY if you have THE MOST BASIC UNDERSTANDING OF JAPANESE.

「いい だろう」 (ii darou) is not "come and try." It has never been "come and try." In context, it's literally "that's good" or "that would be nice."

Let me clarify this, once more: in Japanese, Genesis says "I'll be a hero too," and Sephiroth responds "That would be nice."

This fucked up no-homo English localization has utterly ruined Western fandom's perception of these two since the game first came out, and the continued refusal to fix it is one of the most infuriating things to deal with. It makes Genesis seem petty, bitter, self-absorbed; it makes Sephiroth seem arrogant, sanctimonious, like the kind of person who viciously belittles his closest friends.

That's not who either of them are, particularly not with each other. Genesis didn't want to surpass Sephiroth, he wanted to be his equal. And Sephiroth wanted that too! Sephiroth wanted an equal as much as Genesis wanted to be able to stand at his side! Sephiroth was as supportive as Genesis was determined, and both had too much respect for one another not to give these matches of theirs everything they had. Genesis would never accept a victory that wasn't genuine, and Sephiroth would never belittle him by offering such a thing.

They were playing. They were supporting each other. They were having fun working toward a mutual goal because they love each other.

It's been over 15 years and the update dropped during PRIDE MONTH and English localizers STILL HAVE NOT FUCKING FIXED IT.

[unpretty]

this is unsolicited advice, i know, but my 12+ years of terrible ibs and hypersensitivity to things that were 'spicy' (had any capsaicin or cayenne pepper) turned out to just be mcas the whole time and taking cromolyn/antihistamines means i can eat like. ice cream and pizza and peppers without wanting to die about it. might be something to look into!

i don't think it's anything that serious since it's all just minor annoyances and i don't think i've ever experienced anything that suggests a life-threatening condition

however it has also been brought to my attention that i've got a 5-7 beighton score (the knee situation is unclear because my thighs are huge and i was just doing this at home for funsies) so my ability to be like "well that's probably not weird enough to worry about" is pretty high i guess

and i do have the self-diagnosed rosacea making me flush red like crazy all the time

and i've always had the weird asthma thing making me wheeze and cough for hours after trying to run (they tried giving me an inhaler at one point and it didn't help and it never got investigated further)

and i've had ibs basically since i was born and got diagnosed with acid reflux in elementary school

and lately i've been getting extra annoyed at how hot my legs but specifically my knees and the tops of my feet get after running/walking/whatever. especially my feet, the weird heat rash thing is obnoxious.

so! who knows!! maybe in the aggregate there's Something. once i've finished paying off the thousand or so they charged me for the last bloodwork they did to tell me i'm fine i might mention it to someone, at some point.

[s0fter-sin]

ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.

ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.

just for both his broken halves to be rejected.

what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?

his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.

how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?

did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.

who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?

his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.

johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.

he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.

simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.

ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.

whole, in any incarnation.

[illmoraineakoi]

Do you guys think that when Dark was dying, he knew it, and became so overwhelmed by the visceral fear of his inevitable incoming death that he started desperately pleading to Alan to somehow come save him?

A forsaken creation, dying and agonized, desperately reaching out to his creator in a last ditch attempt at salvation.

A child, begging for it's parent's help, because they're scared and they don't want to die.

[luna-loveboop]

Sobbing because 72.51% of the fandom (<rounded)

was freaking out about if Four still had Twi's shadow crystal

^Valid concern!

And then my boy just shows up wearing it

Slightly hidden... shame/fear?

Anyways here's when Four put it back

I appreciate Four because he stepped up to take care of Twilight's stuff. And he found the crystal and disapproved. And then kept taking care of Twi's stuff.

Art and comic and complex well-written relationships by Jojo @linkeduniverse au :DD

obligatory screaming: Woooolllffiiiieeeeee!!!!!!

:)

[bonesandthebees]

wall-e isn't just a beautiful love story about two robots but it's also a story about having hope for humanity. the humans in the movie have been mollified and fed constant entertainment by the corporation they live on. the minute their screens are turned off they start looking around and realize how beautiful it all is. the captain starts to look into what earth was like and only then begins to learn how much more there is to life. and when the captain sees eve's memories of earth and realizes it's nothing like the green, beautiful world that used to exist, he doesn't give up on it. in another movie, the captain might've decided that since earth wasn't what he thought it was, they shouldn't bother, and then the plot would be about convincing him otherwise. that's not what happens though.

the CEO told the autopilot systems "earth isn't worth saving, stay in space" but the captain of the ship decides so quickly that it is worth saving. he wants things to be better. he wants their future to be more than this.

I literally teared up at the end watching all the humans pass the plant to the front of the ship because they all wanted to get back to earth. humans are not inherently lazy and selfish. every single one of them wanted things to be better. fuck man. I just love stories that focus on the good in humanity and have hope.