#pro earth

[t-0-b-y]

Heard on the radio last year it would take planting 120,000 trees to offset her jet fuel emissions for just last year. Unsettling really…

[dumpster-divers-unite]

Did you know? Thinking ahead can save a life.

A bee’s life. Did you remember that bees are essential to exist in order for humans to continue to live?

The bee was on the bus, huddled in the drain hole of a plastic seat. They struggled to just get upright and fell to the floor, in the walkway. I’ve been telling myself that I’m going to start bringing a small plastic container to carry whatever buggies I find on my day to day life, but I always forget. This bee was very lucky that I had one of my reusable bags at the ready in my tote. I used a pencil’s end to nudge it into the bag and waited for my stop. Even luckier were we when the stop had a few rose bushes to act as cover. I shook them out onto the ground very close to the base of the rose bush and watched as they scurried to the safety of the branches. It was wildly windy that day, so I hope I chose the right coverage for them.

It’s not going to seem like I did much that morning, but every single opportunity you get to display kindness and compassion towards beings who cannot defend themselves is an opportunity you should take. That poor bee could have been mushed for simply being a bee in the wrong place at the wrong time. No crime committed except for the ‘crime’ of being small.

Love bees. Love our small creatures. We have to be better then the humans of the past. We have to set an example.

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[carolcarebear]

Lucien’s moment of Dominance

I’ve noticed something fascinating in HOEAB and ACOSF: italicized commands that seem to carry a deeper, almost magical power. Many people have already pointed out Lucien’s dominance, but what struck me is how this moment connects to similar instances with Rhys and Ruhn and now I can't stop thinking about it.

1. House of Earth and Blood (Bryce's POV)

Ruhn gripped Bryce’s face with a hand. ‘Take a fucking breath.’ That horrible, useless Fae side of her obeyed the dominance in his command, her body falling back on instincts that had been bred into her, despite her best attempts to ignore them.

2. A Court of Silver Flames (Nesta's POV)

‘Sit down,’ Rhys snarled. The raw command in that voice, the utter dominance and power… Nesta froze, fighting it, hating that Fae part of her that bowed to such things.

3. A Court of Silver Flames (Cassian's POV)

‘Tell her’ Rhys ordered him, night swirling around his wings. Cassian bristled. ‘Tell her, Cassian.’ The asshole had used that inherent dominance on him.

All these moments feature an italicized command and they highlight the inner dominance both Ruhn and Rhys possess. The italics seem to imply there’s a deeper, almost magical power at play. It makes sense, Rhys is a High Lord, and Ruhn was Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. Their positions give them the authority to command and, in a way, force compliance through this inherent dominance.

But then, there’s Lucien.

4. A Court of Silver Flames (Cassian's POV)

‘Easy,’ Lucien said. Cassian snarled. ‘Easy,’ Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising dominance within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten—

Okay, but can we talk about this?! Lucien isn’t a High Lord or a Crown Prince, but his command hits Cassian with the same kind of dominance we’ve seen from Rhys and Ruhn. The use of the word “surprising” is so funny to me because it's screaming he's been holding back, and it's about to show!

I can’t stop thinking about what this could mean. It feels like foreshadowing, a hint at the magnitude of Lucien’s power and the role he’s destined to play. He’s the son of Helion, the heir to the Day, and clearly more than what we’ve been shown so far. SJM, what are you planning for him?! 🦊☀️

[wingsdippedingold]

Hold on

You’re upset about Nesta ruining your reputation by hanging out in a slum and going to poor neighborhoods and bars?

But instead of just helping to improve the slums, you… demolish her apartment????

[renarin-spren]

you know while I'm at it!! I'm sick of people not letting Rlain stand on his own as a character. of course his whole thing in WaT (and to a certain extend RoW) is that he's finally found acceptance and a place he fits in with Renarin, and I love that! I love rlainarin as much as the next person!! but it's driving me up the walls bonkers how the majority of the fan made media I see about him is solely in the context of their relationship. like can we please get more love and appreciation for him as a character? or does everyone else just love him because He's Gay ??

[mjfbetterthanyou]

Merry Christmas from MJF & his sisters!

🕎🎄🎁🎅🏼

[nighttimepatrons]

Glaurung the golden.

[i-am-cholera]

[discordiansamba]

bad reality AU where aang fails to successfully energybend ozai and this somehow leads to him distorting reality and creating a version of it where he already rules the entire world as the phoenix king. the spirits can't let this happen but the avatar is Unavailable at the moment so they just have to turn to their next best (and only) option-

-Zuko.

the last thing Zuko remembers, he was fighting Azula. now he's definitely not in the courtyard of the Fire Nation palace. he has no idea where he is, actually but he's pretty sure the figures surrounding him are all very important and powerful spirits. great. what did he fuck up this time?

turns out this isn't because of his fuck-up (astonishing) but because they need him to enter ozai's new reality and free the avatar from his control. because energybending is apparently a thing, and aang tried it and failed. which is a lot to take in. he asks the spirits why they'd choose him, and the ones with faces just sort of awkwardly look at each other until one of them admits well. your father sort of... erased you from his reality?

zuko: ...yeah. that tracks.

it's great for the spirits because it means there's a gap in the new reality they can just slip zuko right in. in order to set things right, he'll need to find his friends- ozai has surely scattered them all, and they likely won't remember anything, but we have preserved shards of their consciousness. if you can get them to trust you, you can return them and they can aid you in your quest.

they have also hidden a piece of aang's consciousness among the shards. if they are able to reunite, they should be able to save the avatar's spirit as well, but they must all be together for it to work. but be warned- if a year should pass, then the new reality will become permanent and he will gradually cease to exist.

also. we are very sorry. we can only return you to where you were in the previous reality.

zuko: wh-

(zuko spawns in the fire nation courtyard, in the middle of a ceremony lead by Fire Lord Azula, attended by her father, Phoenix King Ozai)

zuko: oh.

[blue-jos10]

literature is to andrew what exy is to neil.

and neil is a god of literature the way andrew is a god of exy.

[alfazoings]

this came to me at 7 am after 3 and a half hours of sleep please have mercy 💔

[twelve-thousand-pizzas]

Thinking about how this whole media culture right now with “You can depict morally bad things, just make sure that you only show them in a negative light!” And “Sex is gross always. No matter what. It just is. And also depicting it makes you a bad person.” Is SO reminiscent of the Hayes code. Please can we not have a second Hayes code era please please please-

[raineandsky]

#121

The barrel of the supervillain’s weapon turns a bright white as it charges. The villain is ready for this—they’ve planned it, they’ve imagined it, they know that this has to be the thing that redeems them.

The supervillain laughs as he turns to face the weapon towards them. The heroes never really believed they’d changed. Why would they? A villain once is a villain for life. Whispers followed them, hard glares burned into their back, the odd ‘accidental’ shove followed by laughter that could’ve been as cruel as a villain’s.

The supervillain says something, but they’re not listening. Well. The villain’s about to show those stupid heroes what change looks like. They’ll die here, the hostages will have that extra time to escape, and the heroes will finally see the villain as one of them. As a person.

The villain closes their eyes. The machine in front of them whirs excitedly. This is it. This is it.

Something hard collides with their side, sending them crashing to the pavement. No! their mind shrieks. Gravel digs into any bit of skin it can find, the sharp ache of future bruises under their clothes. Painful, but not as much as this was meant to be.

The supervillain grunts in frustration as the villain risks opening their eyes. A hefty crater is smouldering in the concrete where they were just standing, puffing smoke into the air like a grim image of what they’d have ended up as—ash, at best. They can’t move; somehow, seeing the destruction that could’ve so easily been them is paralysing.

“Oh, god,” someone says from behind them. “You’re not dead, are you?”

The villain finally notices the tight hold around them and manages to wriggle out of it. “Wh—” They push away from the hero, incensed. “What are you doing?”

The hero lugs themself to their feet. “Making sure you don’t die?”

The villain follows them up, ignoring the hero’s hand held out to them, as the supervillain tuts irritably. “Heroes cannot save you, [Villain],” he calls with a cold smile. “You really think you are anything more than a stain to scrub out to them?”

The villain lurches back towards to supervillain, the hero grappling for them and missing. “Then give them something they’ll physically have to scrub out of this road!”

The hero appears next to them, their hand around their arm. “[Villain], stop.”

The villain shrugs their hand off, but it’s back immediately. “Go away, [Hero]. Let me do this.”

The supervillain’s weapon lights up. “No,” the hero snaps stubbornly. “Why are you so set on this? What is dying really going to do?”

Whirring hums in the air again. The barrel turns that heavenly white. “Because maybe then you’ll see me a little more as a person and less as a mindless criminal.” They shove the hero away. “There’s hostages, you know. Go be a hero and help them.”

“The other heroes have that sorted,” the hero says coolly, “because I’m a bit busy trying to save someone else right now.”

The villain doesn’t get a chance to pull away from the hero this time. Their hand tightens on the villain’s arm, and before they can react they’re pushed to the side and out of harm’s way a second time.

“Stop!” the villain cries, their voice barely a rasp. “You think I’m blind? You think I can’t see that all of you would rather I was dead?”

“Maybe a few of the nastier guys, sure. They don’t like anyone,” the hero says sharply, “but I promise you, [Villain], not everyone wants you dead.”

The supervillain’s weapon clicks. The villain recognises the sound; a reload, a brief respite in the war. The hero pulls the two of them behind a slab of upturned road, out of the weapon’s line of sight. Not that it wouldn’t blow this thing to smithereens if the supervillain wanted it to.

“You are a fool to think the heroes will ever think of you as one of them,” he says with a grim smirk. Another click, another bolt in. “But if you do not want to accept that, I am happy to erase the thought from your mind.”

“I need this,” the villain snaps. The hero’s still clinging to their arm. “Let go of me.”

“No you don’t,” the hero says shortly. “You need redemption.”

“This is redemption.”

“No it’s not.” The hero’s hold on them tightens, almost painfully. “This is sacrifice. For nothing.”

“I’m— I’m buying time, the hostages—”

“You realise,” the hero cuts in, “you can buy more time if you don’t keel over.”

The villain stares at them. The supervillain’s weapon clicks one final time. “Come out, [Villain],” he says brightly. “Let us relieve the heroes of their moral duties. I’m sure they’ll thank you for it.”

“Dying doesn’t fix anything,” the hero says lowly. “Don’t make amends by avoiding what you’ve done. Surviving—living with your mistakes—is the biggest atonement you can make.”

“Come on, [Villain],” the supervillain says again. The smile is audible in his voice; coy, knowing, confident. “I’ll make it nice and easy for you, I promise.”

The villain’s stare has long stopped focusing on the hero. They’re well beyond looking at anything. “Okay,” they say weakly. “Okay.”

When the shot of the supervillain’s machine crushes their hiding spot to pieces, the two of them are long gone.

[blackflash9]

"Can we move on? I'd love for you to be part of my life again."

So, I've recently come across some disturbing opinions in the community where some people are actively supporting or cheering for Lin to beat up Suyin for her childhood mistakes and personal imperfections, which gives off serious domestic abuser vibes? Look, I understand that everyone brings their own baggage to their reactions to fiction and fictional characters, but sometimes I wish people would acknowledge that more. It's literally okay to say, 'I don't like this character because they remind me of people I've had bad experiences with.'

But at the same time, I think people often miss the forest for the trees in what Lin and Suyin are supposed to embody about (imperfect) family and relationships. I'll preface this by saying that not everyone who hurts us deserves forgiveness. However, there are people we might benefit from forgiving or even just talking to. Lin and Suyin demonstrate that forgiveness can positively impact lives and that effective communication is essential for this to happen.

[raileurta]

Did some sketches of dad Unicron on my new iPad.