#it's bloody inconvenient

[gumnut-logic]

The child was wriggling and god he wished he would hold still.

The metal beneath Scott’s feet vibrated as another explosion ripped through the chemical plant behind him. He had no doubt it wouldn’t be long before the massive canister he was standing on became an equally massive explosion.

“Scott, are you planning on moving your ass anytime soon? I have only so much foam available in Two’s tanks and they are getting low. Get out, the whole place is going to blow.”

His brother had missed coffee o’clock this morning and was appropriately moody. “Doing my best, Virgil.” If this kid hadn’t climbed all the way up here, it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Do better! I don’t want a promotion.”

The kid was wriggling again as Scott hauled him towards the edge. “Hey, calm down, we are getting out of here.”

Doing his best to hold the boy still, he peered over the edge. No way down, and there was no way he wanted to go back inside this thing. Thunderbird One was on the far side of the complex. The metal beneath his feet rumbled. Time was running out.

A row of antiquated smoke stacks stood like soldiers along the edge of the plant. They would have to do. Mentally calculating his trajectory, he aimed his grapple gun and fired.

Just as the canister shuddered beneath him and began to swell.

“Scott! Get out of there!”

The gun registered a secure grip and, clutching the boy, he jumped.

And the world exploded.

He couldn’t help himself, he yelled, the boy in his arms screaming along with him. They pendulumed into a low arc, but the explosion behind them pushed them back up into the air only to slow reaching the maximum height of their swing.

As they rose, Scott was confronted with the fact that if he didn’t disengage the grapple, they were going to swing back into the explosion.

Time slowed.

A click of a button disengaged the grapple. For a moment they floated in the air.

The boy was still screaming, his arms wrapped around Scott’s neck in terror. Reaching around him, Scott grabbed a new grapple pack, slapped it into the gun just as they started to fall.

Aim.

Fire.

Hang on for dear life.

And they were swinging again.

Wind rushed past his helmet and once again, they were rising.

“Scott, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Need a little help…” And they were approaching maximum height again.

He disengaged the grapple, the line dropping loose behind them.

Another pack.

Another aim.

The last of the stacks. “Virgil, I need you!”

The grapple thunked solid and their swing began again. “Virgil!”

The roar of VTOL and Thunderbird Two shot past. For a moment he was faced with the prospect of colliding physically with his brother’s ‘bird, but she drifted off, just far enough.

They reached the full height of their swing and there were no more stacks.

But there was a Thunderbird.

Last grapple pack slapped in.

Aiming at the side of a big green barn.

The blessed thunk of a secured grapple and they were swinging again, but this time their fulcrum moved with them, taking their momentum and slowing them down.

Ever so carefully his brother’s ‘bird killed their velocity and, ever so carefully, lowered them to the ground.

The grit of gravel beneath his boots was the most wonderful sound. The boy in his arms wrestled free and scuttled away from him, obviously terrified the rescue operative would make him do that again.

Scott disengaged the grapple and threw the gun to the ground. As the chemical plant behind him continued its self destruction, the Commander of International Rescue took a moment to sit his butt in the dirt and try to get his heartbeat back under control.

That had been one hell of a ride.

“Scott, you okay?” Thunderbird Two was making a hasty landing not too far away and no doubt a worried brother would be jumping ship shortly.

“I’m okay, Virg.”

“That was one hell of a move.”

“No kidding.” He drew in a breath. “Thanks for the save.”

“Anytime.” TB2’s VTOL cut out and folded beneath her fuselage giving the explosions behind him aural dominance. “Though next time, drop the Spiderman audition, I’m not sure my blood pressure is up to it.”

Scott sighed as the kid continued to back away bit by bit. “No promises, bro. No promises.”

-o-o-o-

[moderndaypandora]

i recognize that simon and edwin meeting and parting in hell is narratively very good and provides closure for all. but imagine if simon had agreed to try and escape with edwin. and charles doesn't have time to really question it, because anybody who likes edwin is aces in his book and it's hell, they need to leave. (edwin, out of courtesy to their third companion, puts his plan to confess on hold until they've escaped.)

suddenly the edwin harem of "supernatural boys who all hate each other but are attracted to that negative rizz" gains another member, and at some point edwin is going to have to mention that simon was the boy who sacrificed him to hell.

the chaos. crystal's bitchy commentary. charles going from friendly smiling to clutching his cricket bat. niko's whispering "200k slow burn schoolboy rivals to lovers" with heart eyes. it'd be chef's kiss good. edwin fleeing to his books and praying that nobody, but especially not the cat king, finds him because there has been SO MUCH emotion already. hysterical.

[mewtwo24]

Something about Hua Cheng's expression here is killing me--I know this is supposed to be a delicate moment of reassurance but the pure hater energy radiating off of him is just immaculate

[caitlynmeow]

this is the sane sister 😭😭

[trans-cuchulainn]

reading queer historicals does something to me because the characters are never totally safe but they find ways to be happy anyway. they find people they're safe around. they find ways of living in the world without attracting attention. ways to be happy that will let them exist even amidst a hostile society

and it's... i guess it's encouraging, sort of, when the world feels so hostile. to remember both that there has been progress, and also that we can find ways to be happy even when the world seems determined to make that as hard as possible. that it's possible to endure, and keep existing, and find joy, even when you can never be entirely safe

but

but i want to be safe. i don't want to have to fight to find my own joy. i don't want to have to build a future before i can live in it. i just want to feel safe

[camellcat]

sighing I've got this creative writing class yeah? and it's, like, whatever, y'know. but I'm coming to realize I have an issue I would've literally never fucking expected in that I can ONLY write doctor who fanfiction. every single prompt we're given I write AT LEAST one.

and I can't write about anything else unless I write a doctor who fic first. it's like a need like if I don't get it out of my head and onto my screen I'll explode and never be able to write again. this most recent prompt I wrote two separate fics and was forced to turn one of them in cause I ran out of time. what the hell

[frootyrooties]

i cannot bear the extreme zoom in on this man’s outstanding side profile. it’s literal torture for me

[dazaiapologism]

anyways. look at chuuya

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Bloody hell, I need to stop listening to random playlists on Youtube and just stick with the playlists I make, BECAUSE BLOODY FREKKEN HELL, I CANNOT HAVE ANOTHER IDEA VROOMVROOMING IN MY BRAIN NOW.

I mean, it kinda connect to the whole VtM!AU (sort of, the idea I just got is about Jacob and Dottie, but the whole concept would connect to other two OCs in the VtM!AU. STILL PERTINENT, I GUESS), BUT THE WHOLE VIBE IS MORE *MAGICAL* RATHER THAN DARK AND ANGSTY AND FUCKED UP.

AND I NEED MY BRAIN TO COOPERATE.

fuck it, I will just draw it and scratch the itch while I think about the VtM!au and design the "performance outfit" for the OC. fml.

[wizardlyghost]

yknow i think i would maybe have had an easier time in life if i had been a little less autistic :/

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Vengeful gods | Seventh Virtue

would u wear cologne to watch ur ex die yay or nay

No BB excerpt today because I hand wrote and am too lazy to transcribe, so here's this hilariously sad Seventh Virtue excerpt instead! <3

From chapter 46, Grand Finale.

Text transcript under the cut!

“Harrison please,” Lonan says, cupping his abdomen. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you.”

Harrison scoffs, loud enough for the sound to echo around the room. “Protect me? How’d you like me to—”

Lonan thrusts a finger to his lip, looking toward the door Harrison had faced when he’d nearly been put down like a dog. Harrison’s own blood colours his mouth, tastes like pennies. Still, what he’s struck most by is Lonan’s closeness. How from here, he is certain none of Lonan’s bruises are there anymore, how he can smell his cologne—how he’s wearing cologne while Harrison is dying.

Tears burn Harrison’s eyes, his jaw trembling. Here he is with his god, and shouldn’t he have known better? Gods are all vengeful because they’re all the same.

[deardiary17]

Do you know what I want, what I really, really want?

Two weekends a week instead of one and students who are actually interested in studying!

[violetfairydust]

.

[trans-cuchulainn]

how did i only just find out that ibuprofen is pharmacy-only in ireland. like. wtf. i lived here for how long without noticing this?? how much fucking ibuprofen did i bring with me from england that this never came up

[paladincecil]

Why does my sister choose the worst days to ask me to have nephew for the night -_- She could have asked at ANY point and I could have told her I have plans for today but she apparently forgot and now I'm either the asshole who's stopping her from going to her football match with younger nephew or leave a kid alone all day and be selfish because I want to play a video game

[lesbianpikachu]

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