#I did watch this ship go on for eons always thought it was funny

[en-ben]

have u ever considered stanchez

This is coincidental because I was talking about this with my friend yesterday who's seen gravity falls LOL, haven't watched gravity falls myself but from an outsider's view I do see it... (even though I don't really know Stan well)

[wutroows]

eons more (padme amidala x reader)

pairing: padme amidala x fem!reader request: hi bae pls write a padme fic where shes in love with this pilot who delivers goodies to her castle or wtv (do they live in castles?? I mean they live in fancy thingies but idk if I'd refer to it as a castle), like pining. very much wlw and very much fluff and pining requested by my bff zoie @energeticsirens a/n: fluff as requested 

she was a queen, but she was definitely your best friend. 

and it did not help that she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever laid your eyes on, either. 

it wasn’t supposed to start off like that. your job was to transport supplies from planet to planet, and naboo was a newly added planet to that list that you had to get checked off for the rotation. it was simple landing your freighter in the docking bay, signing off of some materials the guards of the palace had needed for a big dinner coming up, and then you left. 

the next time you came back to naboo was the day after the dinner, and as you landed your freighter, the cargo bay door began to open. you made your way through your ship and slid down the ladder leading to the cargo bay, and at the end of the ramp stood what appeared to be a very rich woman, but a woman who was incredibly beautiful. you picked up your pace a little bit, eager to meet her, and wondering why it looked like she’d been waiting for you. 

you walked down the ramp, and stood in front of her. she was about your height, but she was covered in attire that made her look taller than she was. her eyes were a soft brown, and as she extended her hand to you, you offered her a close mouthed smile. “i am padme amidala, queen of naboo.” your eyes widened, eyebrows raising in surprise, though your face didn’t show much of it, she laughed softly. “your majesty, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you asked, putting your hand in hers. her hand was soft, almost like she’d never seen any hardships in her life, but you knew better. her difficulties were different than yours. your hands, though rugged and covered in bruises, fit hers well. 

and that was the end of it. 

your trips back to naboo slowly but surely became more frequent, and surprisingly, it wasn’t solely because you wanted to see the queen, but rather more imports to the planet itself. you usually travelled foodstuffs and medical supplies, nothing more than that, but on occasion you would carry passengers from planet to planet if it wasn’t out of your way. you did have a tight schedule you needed to maintain, but you could always manipulate that schedule for padme, if need be. 

the docking bay quickly became familiar to you, and you landed your freighter with ease. you did have a small crew, mainly composed up of droids, but a few humans were on board as well. it wasn’t too difficult getting everything off of the ship, but as soon as the last box was out of your ship, you turned to the rodian, who was a member of your crew. you couldn’t remember if they ever told you their name, but that wasn’t anywhere near your mind. “listen, i’ve got places to be,” you put your hand on their shoulder, walking them up the ramp back into the cargo bay of the ship, “so, you get to take control of my ship for now. no funny business, straight back to coruscant. no dilly dallying, or whatever you’re planning on doing. if there’s a single scratch on her, you’re paying for any damages, okay?” they nodded, scurrying off. you rolled your eyes, dusting off your clothes before making your way back down the ramp and back into the docking bay. 

you quickly made your way across the docking bay and through a few hallways. you knew exactly where you’d be meeting padme. 

somehow, you’d managed to become friends. the more you seemed to deliver supplies to her and her people, the more she showed up and the more she seemed to talk to you. she was always dressed in her fancy attire with her intense makeup, and you could only hope that this time she’d look relatively casual. 

you were nothing special. but her. she was. she was special, and eons more. 

the two of you usually met in theed, away from the palace but close enough to the docking bay for you to walk from your freighter. somehow, she was always able to show up alone and without a couple of guards to protect her. she carried a blaster with her, but you knew you would protect her if need be.  

and there she was. she was facing you, and as she saw you, a smile lit up on her face. she wore a cape with a hood, dressed in something that looked relatively normal for her standards. it looked good on her, but then again, everything did. you approached her, bowing jokingly as a greeting. she extended her hand out to you, and you pressed a kiss onto her knuckles, “my queen, what a lovely, lovely surprise, truly.” you watched as her smile extended, and you felt your heart flutter as brown eyes met yours. “oh, stop it. you already knew i’d be here, no need to flatter me.” you offered her a smile, “you know it’s what i do best, your majesty.” 

“padme.” 

“right, padme.” 

padme stared at you, love evident in her eyes that she was sure you wouldn’t notice. it was pretty apparent at that point that you were oblivious to her feelings for you. she tried her best to make it obvious, but she guessed she wasn’t very good at expressing her feelings in the first place. the first time she met you, she tried hard to hide the surprised expression on her face. you were absolutely stunning. your pants were ripped and your jacket was covered in dirt, but as she admired the smile you gave her when you shook her hand, she felt her heart speed up and her cheeks flush from under the white makeup she had on. she was head over heels from the beginning. 

it was hard to believe you didn’t notice. with the way she would hold anxiously onto her hands when you talked to her, to the way she’d look away from your eyes whenever she got too shy to maintain eye contact. she tried to make herself look as nice as possible when she went to meet you. she was only lucky she was able to meet you in the first place, with so many guards on the palace it would be impossible, but she was lucky a few of them cared about how she felt towards this mysterious pilot, and managed to escort her out of the palace dressed as a handmaiden. 

you were cocky, confident, and beautiful. everything she wanted to be and more, but you were always away, off helping others on struggling planets and naboo was just another stop. 

but why did you visit her so frequently? it was a question that had been plaguing her since you’d started coming to naboo more often, but why her? you weren’t becoming her friend because of her status as queen, you had nothing to gain from it, then why were you talking to her? why were you holding onto her hand so tightly? 

for you, padme was perfect. she was kind, intelligent, she spoke her mind and helped others in any way she could. she helped people like you, and she helped everyone across the galaxy like you wanted to do yourself. and she was beautiful. everything from the top of her head to the tips of her toes was gorgeous to you, and as she led you down to the beaches of naboo, you let her. 

the two of you had long since been alone, but it was commonplace more or less. her hand held yours, bringing you along the steps down to the beach. you hadn’t been down here before. the sun was slowly starting to set, and as it was, the lighting was incredible. padme was glowing, as she always was, but with the golden tint of the sun, she looked more of a goddess than a human. you considered yourself lucky. you were just a pilot, someone who made just enough credits to get by, and here you were, alone with a queen who considered you as a friend. 

but you wanted to be more than friends. 

you knew it would be difficult, especially since she’d have to keep it a secret. it wasn’t a normal thing for queens to be dating someone of your stature, but honestly, as long as she was yours, you wouldn’t care less of what people thought of you. it’s not like you had anything to lose. you didn’t have much of a family back on coruscant, and life on naboo seemed to be miles better than what it was in the lower levels. 

“it’s beautiful isn’t it?” padme’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, and as she let go of your hand she picked up a part of her dress and stepped into the water. you didn’t know when she removed her shoes, but as you looked behind you, you spotted them in the sand. “it is.” you told her, smiling as you watched her. she looked fascinated by the water and the sunset. she was too good for the galaxy. it was cruel. she didn’t deserve it. you figured she’d already been exposed to bad parts of the galaxy, but a part of you didn’t want her exposed to any more of it. 

she turned, and she looked at you. she tilted her head, and smiled at you. you felt your heart melt in your chest, but you didn’t mind it at all. “padme.” you said, swallowing. your throat felt suddenly dry as you looked at her, but she glanced up at you. “yes?” 

“you’re.. wow.” you chuckled, pursing your lips. “i’m what?” she asked, and you looked up at her. you took off your shoes, and threw them behind your back. you walked to her, and as you finally stood next to her, you took in her appearance. her eyes were shining under the setting sun, and she truly looked happy standing next to you. you couldn’t help but admire the smile she had stretched across her features. 

“beautiful.” 

she looked down at her feet. “you flatter me.” padme said, and you laughed. “oh, definitely. it’s me that flatters you, not the thousands of other people who’ve said the same thing?” she stared up at you, and you could see her features become more serious. “i don’t think you understand how much you mean to me, y/n.” she told you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “what do you mean?” you asked. “exactly what i said.” padme replied, and you pursed your lips. 

“padme, listen.. you’re really special, padme.” you started, looking at her directly in the eyes. she stared back at you, and you could feel your face warm as she did. “without meeting you, i’d be.. well, who knows where. all i know is, i’d be stuck on that stupid freighter all day, delivering things to all of these different planets and people. i see a lot of faces every day, padme, but the only one that truly matters to me is yours.” you watch her face, and you see her shoulders relax. “i know i still move things around the galaxy but.. at least i have you to look forward to, and that smile to keep me going.” you told her. she smiles, but only just, almost as if she were nervous. 

“padme, if you can’t tell, i’m in love with you. i have been for a long time now.” you said. she looked back up at you, mouth agape slightly. her features were relaxed, but her expression said shocked. “really?” she said after a few moments. her brown eyes showed happiness, and you could hardly believe it until a smile formed across her lips. you took a step closer to her, “padme.. you’re everything to me.” 

“you’re.. you.. you flatter me.”

“is that all you’re gonna say to me?” you laughed softly, and you saw as she shook her head. 

“i love you.” she said. your eyes widened in shock. she loved you? the queen of naboo, the woman you were in love with, loved you? out of everyone she could be with, she went the hard way? you wouldn’t complain, but as she looked at you, you felt your heart speed up.

“can i kiss you?” you asked. 

she nodded. 

your lips found hers, and your hands gently sat on her waist, pulling her closer to you. one of her hands gripped at the fabric of your jacket, and she held you close by your lapel with the other. her lips were soft, and it reminded you of the first time your hand met hers. the feel of her skin against yours brought a warmth to your heart, and you felt her melt into your touch. you smiled against her lips, before pulling away. the tip of your nose met hers, and you opened your eyes. “you love me?” she nodded, “very much.”

“and i love you eons more.”

[vicunaburger]

Motel Sleezey

Fandom: Beetlejuice (1988) Pairing: Beetlejuice x Miss Argentina (Beauty and the Beetle) Word Count: 1,600 Warnings: M for Very Adult Content, NSFT my dudes

Notes: One very special request for a fellow sinner~ @clairjohnson See the amazing art that inspired this whole ship here!

The neon sign sputtered obnoxiously above her, several letters burnt out probably eons ago and no one bothered to replace them. People knew what kind of place this was; knew what they were there for. No one expected a fancy marquee and a red carpet.

Miss Argentina glanced down at the hastily written note in her hand, the scrawl barely legible in the dim light of the orange-red glow of the sign. It was a room number and the name of the motel: nothing else, not even a name attached. It did not need more detail to be honest, having been not-so-subtly slid across her desk that afternoon by the person who wrote it.

Rolling her eyes, the beauty queen followed the signs around the building, finally coming upon the one indicated in the note. Smoothing out the front of her satin cocktail dress, she knocked quietly on the door, trying not to attract the attention of any passerby. Doubtful that any of them would make a fuss about seeing her around this part of town late at night, but there was always the fear of a co-worker starting up the rumor mill before her next shift.

The door was practically ripped off the hinges in haste; the occupant of the motel room looming over her with a toothy smile.

“Well, ain’t you just lookin’ like a little snack cake?” Beetlejuice gave a low whistle, eyeing her wolfishly. “Can’t wait to unwrap you.”

“Oh shuddap, you are ridiculous.” Miss ‘Tina brushed past him into the room, “I regret so much of this already. Spending my night off with such a fool.”

Not that he would ever breathe a word of it aloud, but hearing her berate him in that soft accent of hers maybe his insides liquify like jelly, “Hey, you could’ve said no. You said no plenty of times, sweetheart.”

The room was decked out in gawdy reds and purples, heavy drapery obscuring the windows, and dozens of pillows haphazardly stacked on the bed. Lit candles were sporadically placed on various surfaces and furniture, casting the whole room in flickering candlelight. Miss ‘Tina balked slightly when she noticed flower petals leading from the door to the bed.

Icing on a truly tasteless cake.

“This is supposed to be… what? Romantic? It’s cheap.” She thought about taking off her heels but realized what could be lurking in the shag carpet. “Like you.”

He pretended to take offense, “Ya wound me, darlin’. Here I tried to be nice’n’classy, and you don’t appreciate my good taste.”

Taking the pins out of her hair, the beauty queen went over to try and calm her nerves on the bed. As she sat down, the bed wobbled underneath her, and she had to ungracefully balance herself with the motion. Beej snorted in laughter, jumping on the other side of the bed to further fluster the redhead.

Miss Argentina managed to use the momentum to get out of the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and striking him with it. She punctuated each strike with a few choice words in her native language, which BJ could only assume were not very ladylike.

“Aww, babes, don’t be like that. I promised you a waterbed, and damned if I didn’t deliver.” He rolled over, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her close with his hands on her hips. “Only th’best.”

Beej flashed her another smile, his hands sliding down the smooth fabric of her dress until he reached the hem, catching it between his fingers. One of her meticulously styled eyebrows raised in question, her weight shifting in response to his touches. Taking advantage of the movement, he lifted her off her feet with ease, tossing her onto the pillows, the bed swaying with her added weight. His hands immediately busied themselves with sliding her dress up over her hips, sloppily mouthing over the newly exposed skin.

“I didn’t think you could deliver on the bed,” she admitted, giving him a half-lidded stare. “Impressive, I admit.”

“Listen: when I promise somethin’ to a beautiful woman, I keep it. It’s my motto.” Beetlejuice bit her pale blue flesh roughly, earning him a sharp gasp.

Miss ‘Tina propped herself up on her elbows as best she could, fascinated with watching him soothe over the bite he made with that tongue. Her mouth felt dry, and she felt a warm blush spread across her cheeks. It was hard to imagine that just a while ago, she would not be caught - to pardon the expression- dead with the ghost guide in any situation. His terribly unsubtle innuendo, accidentally grabbing at parts of her as they passed each other in the hallways… it should have disgusted her.

Yet, here she was, arching her hips off the mattress in order to help him remove her embarrassingly plain underwear. Death was funny that way.

“I think it’s my goddamn birthday,” BJ snickered, sitting back on his heels, and taking a long, leering look at her half-naked body. “Gonna take my time with this present~”

“Either you shush or put that mouth to better use.” She pouted, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward in a smirk.

To emphasize her point, she slowly slid her the toe of her high heel along his thigh, the muscle tensing beneath his striped trousers. Growling deep in his throat like an animal, he dipped his head down to brush his cheek along her inner thigh, then bared his teeth again to bite down on the flesh. Choosing to scatter more bites over her thighs and hip, carefully avoiding the junction between her legs, his jagged teeth had yet to pierce skin; merely pinched hard enough to leave bruises.

The ghost adjusted himself on the wobbly mattress, using the momentum to move in closer. The glint of her slick juices in the soft candlelight provided a momentary distraction, and BJ had paused his marking to lean in to lick at her folds; his long, cold tongue penetrating her suddenly, causing her body to jerk in surprise.

In truth, the beauty queen was surprised at how aroused she had already become, not having noticed the wetness between her legs until now. Was it simply because of his thorough attention, or had it been before that? His unnaturally long tongue lapped at her folds, and her hands found their way into his grimy, blond hair, holding on with an iron grip. She felt him groan against her, the sound vibrating deep into her core, which earned him a sharp tug on his locks in return.

His tongue was doing deliciously wicked things inside her, unnatural length of his reaching places that made her whole body shudder in pleasure, curling upwards to make her shout in surprise. It was messy, and she could feel it. How much of it was her own wetness, and how much was her partner’s saliva coating her inner thighs. His sharp nails digging into her skin as he held her legs apart, leaving angry red lines that turned purple against her blue skin.

Beetlejuice dislodged himself from her grip, moving up her body to pin her hands above her head with one hand at her wrist. The other hand picked up where his mouth had left off, two fingers slipping inside her without much finesse. ‘Tina’s back arched off the mattress, her features flushed with a red hue, eyes wide and dilated. A soft moan escaped her lips, eyes fluttering closed as she started to fully give in to his ministrations.

“Oooh, Missy, who would’a pegged you for such a vocal little thing. You’re singin’ like a litle bird for me.” He leaned down, licking a wet trail across her collarbone, casually adding another finger to join the other two. “Everyone’s gonna hear you. Everyone’s gonna know how dirty you are.”

She shook her head, feeling little beads of sweat upon her forehead, her stomach tightening up like coiled spring, “You… you talk too much.”

Laughing, he could feel her starting to come undone, and started whispering into her ear, “Yeah? But you like when I talk about you, don’t you Missy? Feelin’ just how soaked you are for me when we haven’t even started? I got the room for a whole night, babes. You’re all mine. Gonna have you achin’ for me for days after I’m through with you.”

Miss Argentina had wanted to yell at him; wanted to deny him the satisfaction of getting to her with his filthy mouth, but she couldn’t. She liked being talked to like this, being treated so delicately and yet so rough… it was enough to tip her over the edge. Her entire body shook like a leaf beneath him, her muscles clenching rhythmically around his fingers as he kept pumping in and out of her, working every last drop of pleasure he could from her and more. Her mouth hung open in a strangled, wordless cry, hearing him mumble what sounded like praise against her neck.

After a few moments, he let her go, dragging his fingers away and making a show of licking them clean one by one. Miss ‘Tina brushed some stray hair that had been sticking to her forehead with sweat, her hazy vision focusing on him as he started taking off his suit jacket.

“Ah… I was going to say, you are far too dressed.” She laughed breathlessly, still coming down off the high.

“Can’t just give ya the goods all at once, babe.” Beetlejuice loosened his tie, staring down at her with a wicked look. “We have all night.”

Tagging: @mr-geuse @horneyjuice BECAUSE THEY KNOW WHY.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Chapter 75: Let’s Get This Show on the Road

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Some are mine, but a decent chunk of the 1-C kids in this chapter were created by tumblr user and number one fic fan on tumblr @uninvited-eon​

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round!”  Itsuka Tetsutetsu called out to her class.  Around the common room, the sixteen students of Class 1-C began to gather, some listlessly, some begrudgingly, but none of them eagerly. Her heart ached for them.  

Whereas Aizawa and Super-Ball’s classes had passed their Final Exam… her class had failed.

She felt a strong measure of guilt over that.  They were only the second group of students she’d shepherded through U.A. and she could not help but feel like she’d failed them somehow.  Had she not trained them well enough?  Had she not stressed the need for teamwork and cooperation, of thinking things through?  They’d all done well in their Heroics Class and two of them had even made it to the Tournament round of the Sports Festival.  And yet, when it had come down to it, victory had slipped from their grasp.  Aizawa and Fujii had both told her she wasn’t to blame, as had her husband, but she still felt the sting of failure.  She’d already vowed to do better by her kids.  She’d already been working on new ideas for the next term.  

“Yes, Sensei?” Yoru Kan, tall, buff, and pale, asked from her spot on one of the couches.  It was strange to think her old teacher had a daughter the same age as Itsuka’s own child, but such was life sometimes.

“I know you’re all upset about not getting to go to the Training Camp with the other classes,” Itsuka said.

Ichigo Minoru, the lion-like Class Representative, growled.  “We should have done better.”

This earned him a glare from the pink-haired Momoko Hohki, who blew a gum-bubble generated by her Quirk, popping it noisily.  “You want to say that again, Fuzzball?” The two had never really gotten along.  Hohki had… issues with authority.

“I’m just saying we could have done better,” Minoru said.  He held up furry hands.  She knew he bore the loss heavily as well, taking it quite personally.  He was brave and selfless, but he had to be wondering if his leadership skills hadn’t been up to snuff.  “That’s all.”

“I think we all know who screwed up,” Kan said gruffly, crossing her arms.  

Ayahiko Akiyama pushed his glasses up, the red frames standing out against skin that was even paler than Kan’s.  “Well, it sure wasn’t me.”   His color-manipulating Quirk had been useful during the exam, unleashing wildly shifting color patterns to disorient some of their foes, but the lack of responsibility was typical too.  She and the other teachers hadn’t been able to get him to step up just yet.  They were giving it time, but he’d either shape up for ship out.

“Like hell it wasn’t,” Reiki Akamatsu snapped, the green quills along her head bristling.  “You and Enoshima both!  Throwing up your damn light shows so we couldn’t see!”

Hitomi Enoshima, whose Kaleidoscope Vision Quirk made looking her in the eyes dangerous, took offense with that.  “I told you to get out of the way!  Not my fault you didn’t listen!”

“Shouting “get out of the way, losers!” doesn’t count as telling people to get out of the way,” Kin Shiji snapped.  The parts of his face that weren’t patches of metallic gold were flush with irritation.

“Can we… can we not fight?” Shika Mizuno asked.  The antlered girl bowed her head and closed her eyes.  She was gentle and soft-spoken, reminding Itsuka very much of her friend and former classmate Komori.  Trying to play peacemaker when the more outspoken members of the class fought was common for her.

Unfortunately, Mizuno’s words did little to quell the arguments brewing.  Sides were taken, insults shouted, and things started getting loud very quickly.  

Employing her Quirk, Itsuka enlarged her hands and brought them together in a singular clap that resonated throughout the room.  It left some of the Class holding their ears, especially the lion-like Minoru and the bear-like Tsukiko Kuma.  But it did its job and silenced them all for a moment.  

“Sorry about that,” she said, reducing the size of her hands back to normal.  “But I could tell that was going to get ugly.  And fighting amongst yourselves is part of why you failed the exam.”  There had been so much arguing, so many strong-willed hot heads in her class determined to do things their own way.  They’d gotten in each other’s way during the exam, hadn’t coordinated properly, and ultimately the faux-Villains had gotten away with their target.  

“You’ve got potential,” she said.  “I believe in you.  But there’s a lot we need to work on.  Which is why, while the other Hero classes are at their Training Camp, we’re going to be having one here at the USJ.  Water Spout, Doc Clock, and I will be putting you through your paces from pretty much sunup to sundown, with a particular focus on teamwork and collaboration.”

She frowned.  “Failing your exam is a big deal.  But it’s one you can come back from, with hard work. I believe in all of you.  Which is why I also arranged for some extra help with your additional training.”

At that, the doors burst open.  “Woooo!  Who’s ready for some training?!”

Itsuka pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Tetsu, I told you to wait outside until I texted you.”

Her husband blushed and smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry, ‘suka.  Got done dropping Kana off and got bored… figured you’d be ready by now.”

It was going to be a long two weeks.

***

Nearly all of Class 1-A and Class 1-B had already assembled by the time Katsumi arrived.  She’d been rather insisted that she and Dad not arrive together.  It was going to be enough of a pain having him as one of her teachers, but she could live with that.  This was a practical matter of asserting her own independence.  And there was some small part of her that wanted to take in everyone’s reactions when they found out about him.  Maybe she ought to get her phone ready.  Depending on how people reacted, she could get a new ringtone out of it.

Izzy gave her a polite nod as she approached.  “It is good to see you, Katsumi,” she said.

“Good to see you too, Iz,” she replied.  Thoughts of her dad’s promise to push all of them hard ran though her mind.  She’d spent years thinking of Izzy as fragile and in need of protection.  Even if the last few months of U.A. had told her otherwise, her first instinct was always going to be to protect her friend.   Even if she and Iz weren’t romantically compatible, she loved her still, as the most important person in her life.  “All set for roughing it?”

Izzy closed her eyes and nodded.  “I believe so,” she said.  “My parents were concerned, of course, but ultimately convinced that I would be in good hands.”

Of course they were. Katsumi nearly rolled her eyes. Izzy’s parents were crazy protective sometimes.  Nearly all the time, actually.  She’d have thought they’d have learned by now.   Best not to think about it, it would just make her angry.

“Any idea where they’re taking us?” she asked instead.  Even without Villains after the Hero classes, U.A. had stopped publicizing the location of its Training Camps years ago.  It was a lot safer that way.  Not that she’d been able to get anything out of Dad.  He’d cited “tradition” as being the reason he couldn’t tell her.  She was also sure getting on her nerves was also one of the reasons.

Izzy shook her head. “I am afraid I have no idea.  We shall just have to see.”

Katsumi just laughed. “Ah, well.  Worth a shot.”

In the meantime, she could see the Class Representatives making the rounds, with Toshi and Tokyami talking to the members of their class, and Kana and Awase talking to theirs. She could see Aizawa too, off to the side and in consultation with 1-B’s teacher, Super-Ball.  She couldn’t hear what was being said, but Aizawa was giving the rubber-bodied Hero a death glare and looking like he wanted to be absolutely anywhere else on the planet.  Super-Ball was talking animatedly and occasionally elbowing Aizawa in the side. Given what she’d heard about Super-Ball, her sympathy was entirely with Aizawa.  

“Five hundred yen says Aizawa wraps his head up to stop him from talking,” she said to Izzy.

Izzy shook her head again. “What is it you would say? “That’s a sucker’s bet?’”

Katsumi laughed again. “You are listening.”  She doubted Izzy had ever seen that small an amount of money in her life anyway.

Around them, most of the class was in its usual friendship groups.  She could see Shinso babbling to Haimawari, who was indulging the hyperactive, purple-haired kid, nodding occasionally at whatever he was going on about. Sero, Sato, and Ojiro were talking as always, probably discussing content for their damned web show. The Iida twins and the new girl with the wings, Kocho, were watching the discussion with something somewhere between amusement, fascination, and confusion.  Mineta was talking to Koda, while Aoyama and Shoji stood a little bit apart from the rest of the class.  One person she did notice was missing though.  It wasn’t until she looked around until she noticed…

“Hey, Iz?” Katsumi asked.

“Yes?”

“Why the hell is Kaminari hanging out with Monoma?”  Izzy was friends with the electric dumbass.  There was a decent chance she’d known what was going on.  

“I cannot say,” Izzy told her.  

“But you know,” she pressed.  

“Chihiro has asked that I not speak of it.”

“…What.”

***

“What?” Chihiro asked, as Monoma slipped the bracelet around her wrist.  It had been made in the kumihimo style, she could tell, yellow with just a little bit of black in it, like her hair.  She wasn’t sure they were at the gift-giving stage of… whatever it was exactly they were doing.   They’d gone out once.  

Which had been nice, she actually had to admit.  Nothing fancy, just a walk and some ice cream, but he’d turned out to be surprisingly good company.  When he wasn’t being a competitive asshole or didn’t have Kirishima-Bakugo around to rile him up, he could actually be a decent guy, and even pretty funny.   He was smarter than her, that much was sure, and ridiculously well-read, but he didn’t lord it over her and listened when she talked, especially about music, he actually asked questions and wanted to know more.  He’d been more encouraging during that walk that he’d been in the entirety of the time she’d known him before.

More vulnerable too. He’d been damn close to quitting before he’d talked to her.  And then there was the way he talked about his classmates and how much potential he saw in all of them…

She was beginning to understand what Mika had seen in the guy.  Granted, Mika’s type was “alive,” but she was actually beginning to see why Koda willingly associated with him.  

They’d talked on the phone and texted more on top of that.  She’d actually found herself looking forward to it.  Chihiro was well aware she was no amazon with pneumatic boobs like Mika or Sora Iida, or even a girly fashionista like Ojiro.  She was relatively plain, her curves barely there. She was fit, but hardly a paragon of physical fitness, and she was never going to be the smartest person on the planet. Even her Quirk wasn’t that impressive without lots of Support Gear.

Having someone actually interested in her, for who she was, when there were so many other better options available was still a surprise.

“It’s a gift,” Monoma said. “I made it myself.”   He smiled, sheepishly.  “I watch a lot of tutorials on Viewtube, so I can pick up other skills. You never know when it might come in handy.  Besides, it’s more than that.  It’s a promise.”

“A promise of what?” Chihiro cast a few nervous glances around.  Someone—Ojiro probably—was probably already noticing she’d been talking with Monoma for a while now and speculating wildly. Several of Class 1-B were definitely already looking at her.  

She wasn’t exactly as embarrassed by the thought of people finding out she was dating him as she’d have thought, but she’d kind of wanted to control the message.  But he’d been so insistent on giving her the bracelet before the busses arrived…

“It’s an apology too, for my earlier behavior, but it is a promise,” Monoma said, “that I won’t kiss you again.”  He leaned in close, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Until you kiss me first.”  She was pretty sure she heard Fukidashi gasp.

Well, wasn’t that presumptuous of him?  Why was he so pretty when he was being so arrogant?  “Don’t,” she breathed, her Cords rising up reflexively, sparks dancing on the tips, “don’t you mean “unless?’”

He gave her one of those all too confident smiles, his eyes practically twinkling.  “Giving up on us so soon?”

Chihiro flushed red and couldn’t find the words to respond to that.

***

Toshi looked down at the clipboard he was carrying, nodded, and looked over to Asuka.  “That everybody?” he asked.

“It is,” Asuka told him, checking her own clipboard.  Frog-Shadow was sitting on her shoulder, looking vaguely bored.  “Everyone’s here, everyone’s luggage is accounted for, and the buses should be here in about ten minutes.”

“Good,” he said. Being Class Representative came with a lot of responsibilities, but his classmates made it easy.  None of them put him through half has much as their parents’ class had put Uncle Tenya through.  The worst he usually had to do was keep Katsumi from killing Mineta when the latter was being particularly aggravating or mediate a conflict between Aoyama and Sero.  It helped that he’d known the majority of them for years and understood their eccentricities.  

“Okay!” Toshi called out. “Everybody listen up!”  It took a moment—Sero was being especially chatty—but eventually, everyone did quiet down, with Kaminari hurriedly joining the group at the end.

“Thank you,” Asuka told them.  “Toshi and I both want you to know we expect all of you to be on your best behavior during the Training Camp.  Aizawa-Sensei wishes for us to emphasize that there will be severe consequences for misbehavior.”

“He was really scary when he said it!” Frog-Shadow piped in.  

“He was,” Toshi agreed, shuddering at the memory.  “But I know you’re all mature, responsible individuals who can be counted on not to do anything stupid.”

“How’d you manage to say that right a straight face, Toshi?” Katsumi asked, arms crossed, grinning smugly.

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted.  “Now, any last questions?”

Mineta’s hand went up.

“That aren’t about fraternization during the camp?”

Mineta’s hand went down. Toshi breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned around and looked over to where Aizawa and Super-Ball were.  “All set,” he called out.  He heard Kana Tetsutetsu do the same.  

The two teachers walked over so they were standing in front of the two classes.  “Thanks, Class Reps!” Super-Ball said, grinning broadly. He spread his arms in an expansive gesture.  “Is everybody ready for a summer of fun?!”

Silence greeted him.

“That’s right!” 1-B’s teacher went on, as though they’d responded.  “Well that’s too bad, because Aizawa canceled all the fun.  Your friendly neighborhood bouncing ball tried to talk him out of it, but well, you try arguing with that face.  C’mon, make the face, Aizawa.”

Aizawa’s expression did not change.

“Yeah,” Super-Ball said. “That’s the one.  Seriously, though, you guys are gonna work really hard. But I know you can do it, and you’re gonna be better for it!  And we’ve got one extra surprise for you.   You want to take this one, Aizawa?”

“Right,” Aizawa said flatly. “In addition to Fujii and myself, your new Heroics teacher will also be accompanying us.”

A dozen plus conversations broke out among the two classes, as they began to speculate who that might be. Toshi had known that with Grandpa Might becoming the new principal, they were looking to fill the slot, but he hadn’t known for sure that anyone had accepted the job.  The weird thing was, neither Katsumi nor Shota seemed surprised by the news.  

“Who is it?” Rika Bondo, the blue slime girl from 1-B, asked.  

“That’s be me.”

“Uncle Kachan?!” Toshi stammered out.  Uncle Kachan had appeared almost out of nowhere, no less stealthy for his recent injury.  He was dressed comfortable, in civilian clothes, but still looked ready to take on any challenge that might come his way.  There was the slightest of limps to his step, but you had to be really looking to notice it.

But never, in a million years, would he have thought he’d be their new teacher!  

Someone had let out a girlish shriek.  “Oh, man, Monoma!” Anime Fukidashi giggled.  “You should have seen the look on your face!”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no, we’re all going to die,” Sero wailed.  He’d gone a distinctly paler shade of pink.  

“Well,” Toshi heard Izumi say, “this is unexpected.”

“This is… wow…” Haimawari trailed off.

“Guys? Seriously?  I think Monoma’s broke.  He hasn’t moved for, like, a minute.”  Fukidashi’s voice carried over all the others.  “Tetsutetsu, maybe you want to smack him?”

“I’m fine, dammit!” Monoma snapped.   All eyes were instantly on him.   He gulped nervously.  “My… apologies, Senseis.”

Uncle Kachan didn’t seem to care and Aizawa was as impassive as ever.    

“Breathe, kid,” Super-Ball said.   “He’s legally prohibited from killing you.”   He winked.  “But you’d be surprised what you can live through.”

Uncle Kachan looked over at Aizawa.  “Is he always like this?”

Aizawa just sighed. “This is actually one of his more sedate days.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that, you sorry excuse for a hobo?!”

“If I have to suffer, so do you.”

“You two do know I can hear you, right?” Super-Ball asked, though he didn’t sound offended.  “And so can they?  The impressionable children?”

Uncle Kachan sighed, then turned his attention to them.  “I’m not big on speeches.  So I’m just letting you all know now, All Might was the good cop.  I’m the bad cop.  And I’m gonna work you all like you’ve never been worked before!”

Several of the students gasped.  Toshi was pretty sure he saw Monoma look faint.  Katsumi just grinned that grin she did before she punched someone.  

Anything else was cut off as the automated buses arrived, one of which seemed a bit larger than the other, probably to accommodate Kentaro Fukui, the nearly three meters tall member of 1-B.   “About time,” Aizawa said.  “Get your luggage loaded and then get on the bus.  Class 1-A in the first bus, Class 1-B in the second.  We leave in ten, with or without you.”

***

It didn’t take long for the buses to get underway.  Aizawa was seated in the front of the bus, Uncle Katsuki in the back.  The various couples in the class were sitting together, as were the usual friends like Chihiro and Mineta and Isamu and Shota, while Asuka was sitting with their new classmate Kocho.  Their odd numbers meant that Shoji was sitting alone, though he didn’t seem bothered by it.  And, of course, Izumi was sitting with Katsumi.

Izumi turned to look at her friend.  “So,” she said, “I am assuming you knew about this?”

Katsumi smirked at that. “Oh yeah.  All Might offered him the job a couple of days after the break started.  He thought about it for maybe a day tops before he said yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

That earned her another smirk from Katsumi.  “You didn’t ask.”

A smile spread across Izumi’s face and a small giggle escaped her lips.  “That is true,” she said.  “I did not.”

“Besides,” Katsumi added, “he swore me to secrecy.”

Uncle Katsuki would certainly be a… different teacher than All Might, she was sure.  But he was Japan’s Number Four Hero, with numerous Villain captures and cases solved behind him.  The media often liked to paint him as a volatile brawler, but she knew there was far more to him than that.

Izumi nodded.  “He has a wealth of experience to offer.  I am sure he will take to the role readily.” More importantly, Izumi was glad to see that Uncle Katzuki was doing well and getting back to something approximating normal.  With traumatic injuries like he had experienced, it took a truly exceptional individual to come back from them.  But then again, her father often said that Uncle Katsuki had “more guts than sense.”  She was reasonably certain that he had not meant it was a compliment—especially as her mother had swatted him for saying it—but guts were definitely required here.

“Yeah, well…” Katsumi trailed off.  Her dear friend rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable, and even here, it was only for the briefest of moments.  “Beats having him mope around the house while he’s taking medical leave.”

Medical leave, not retirement.  That was potentially promising sounding.  “They are hopeful for a more functional prosthetic?”   Katsumi had told her that her father’s Quirk made traditional prosthetics unwieldy for long term use, but that Doctor Shield and Mei Hatsume were working on a better one.

Katsumi shrugged. “Nothing yet.  They really don’t know if he’ll ever…”  Her voice started to crack, but she was fighting it.  She so hated to show weakness in front of anyone, even her.

Izumi reached over and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze.  Katsumi returned the grip, mindful that Izumi was not as strong as she. No other words needed to be said. As always, they would have each other’s back.

“But yeah,” Katsumi went on, her tone shifting back to something more in line with her usual self, “in the meantime, he’s going to make everybody here’s life hell.”  She looked around the bus.  “Pretty sure Aoyama and Sero might die.  Maybe Monoma too.”  That caused her to snicker.  “Did you see his face?”

“I did,” Izumi said, her tone carefully neutral.  She did not wish to encourage Katsumi’s delight in the misfortunate of others, though that was probably a battle she would not win.  But Uncle Katsuki would likely be an unrelenting taskmaster, and she knew she could expect no favors or special treatment due to her friendship with Katsumi or her own limitations.

Limitations she would not have were it not for her grandfather.

No.  She could not dwell on that now.  She had learned much, but she was still deciding what to do with that information.  Izumi had not even mentioned her visit with her grandfather to her parents. Mercifully, Chihiro and Mineta had not pressed her for details, respecting her privacy.  Soon, she hoped, when she had time to grapple with the reality of it, she would tell her friends.  But for now, she needed to focus on getting stronger.  She would need all her wits about her for the camp ahead.

***

“Anxious?” Asuka asked Kocho.  Frog-Shadow was dozing on her lap.  Long rides always had that effect on her familiar.  She knew their new classmate was already friends with Toshi, Haimawari, Sero, Ojiro, and Sato, but as elected Vice-Representative and unofficial “Class Mom”, she too had a duty to reach out to her, so she’d volunteered to sit with her for the bus ride while the others paired off.  Frog-Shadow had been upset that she wasn’t going to sit next to Shoji, but her other half had to learn that, even with their increased cooperation, she couldn’t always get what she wanted.

The moth-girl shook her head.  “Yes,” she said.  “Sorry, did I just contradict myself?”  Her wings were folded around her as much as she could make them, taking up the majority of her seat.

“A bit,” Asuka told her. “But understandable.  Are you comfortable?  I don’t mind pulling up the arm rest.”

“I’m fine,” Kocho said. “Little close, but it doesn’t hurt. This is still nicer than taking the city bus.”  She gave Asuka a reassuring smile.  

Asuka flipped up the armrest anyway and Kocho let her wings spread out a small amount.  “I won’t say your anxiety is unwarranted,” she said.  The truth of others experiences and feelings was not open for debate.  “But this is very standard for the Hero Courses.  They find a few Heroes or a Hero team from outside the school, so that they can bring a fresh perspective to our training, and under our teachers’ guidance, push us to increase the strength and versatility of our Quirks and skills.  It will be exhausting… but ultimately rewarding.”

She looked down at the sleeping frog on her lap.  Nothing but peace and contentment flowed through their link.  Asuka was determined to enjoy it while she could.  It wouldn’t last long once Frog-Shadow was awake. “Though what exactly they can do with this little one, I’m not sure.”

Kocho chuckled at that. “Any idea who they got to teach this year’s then?  Or is that one of those ‘rational deceptions’ Deku and Shinso were trying to warn me about?”

“They keep it a secret,” Asuka told her.  “Though it’s not a rational deception in this case.  It’s really more of just a U.A. tradition.  They like keeping us on our toes.”

This got a nod. “Makes sense, I guess.  Any idea what they were talking about then?”

Asuka could hazard a guess. “You probably don’t have to worry about that,” she said.  “If they try to drop us off a cliff, you can fly.”

“You’re, you’re joking about that, right?” Kocho asked, dark eyes going wide.  “Tell me you’re joking!”

“Not at all,” she replied. She put a finger to the side of her beak in thought.  “I’m told it wasn’t a particularly big cliff, though.”

“I still can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Kocho replied.

“She doesn’t joke,” Frog-Shadow said sleepily, stirring on her lap. “She’s the most boring person alive!  I’m the fun one in this relationship!”

Asuka looked down to glare at her living Quirk.  “And here I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”  She shook her head.  “But I doubt there will be any surprises like that at this Training Camp.”

***

They’d been on the road for about three hours and the anxiety in the bus had practically become a palpable thing.  They’d made two stops already for bathroom and snack breaks and Isamu was fairly certain most of his classmates were going to jump out of their skin every time. About the only people who weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop were Kocho, who didn’t know any better, and Shinso, who didn’t seem to see Aizawa in the same way as everyone else.  Between their parents stories of school and their own experiences so far this year (Sending real—albeit reformed—Villains after them?  What?), they were all rightfully paranoid.

Granted, his parents had known Aizawa too, even if they hadn’t been his students.  They’d said he was gruff, but fair, and had actually been supportive of the work they’d done, despite them being Vigilantes.  That somehow didn’t make him any less scary.

Throughout the trip, Shinso had kept up a steady stream of talk about Heroes and recent Hero events. Isamu had nodded along politely to a lot of it, occasionally adding to the conversation, but mostly letting the smaller boy talk.  The two of them had gotten into a debate though, over whether Shoto or Gale Force was cooler, when Shinso had brought up a recent team-up the two of them had had.  

Shinso had been rather insistent that Shoto was cooler, especially because of the fast way he could take down Villains without anyone being hurt.  Isamu, on the other hand, had gone to the mat for Gale Force, liking the Hero’s larger than life personality and All Might level of cheer. It had been a friendly debate, though neither one of them was backing down from their position.

The two of them were sitting more towards the back of the bus.  Occasionally, Shinso would look back to where Ground Zero was sitting, his arms crossed, and looking vaguely irritated, occasionally smiling a very familiar smile, as though enjoying some private joke.  It was the same one Kirishima-Bakugo made before she punched something.  The Number Four Hero was their new Heroics teacher?  Ground Zero certainly had a reputation as having a hair trigger temper, but there was no denying that he was also really good at what he did.  The look on his face suggested he was going to get far too much enjoyment out of putting them through their paces.

He’d survived Kirishima-Bakugo this long.  How much worse could it be?

“Toshi!  Toshi!” Shinso piped up.  “You’ve gotta settle this!  Who’s more awesome?  Shoto or Gale Force?”

Midoriya was across the aisle from them, sitting with his girlfriend.  Sora Iida was leaning against him, absorbed in some technical manual. Midoriya was definitely making progress. Not that long ago, that much prolonged physical contact would have had him shaking like a leaf.

Isamu was hoping to get some time with his girlfriend as well, this trip.  Kana had loved the signed Godzillo statue he’d brought back for her from I-Island (He didn’t tell her he’d lost the first one) and they’d managed to see a marathon of his movies between his return and the leaving for the camp.  Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too busy wrangling her class that they couldn’t share a few moments of their limited downtime.

“Oh no,” Midoriya said quickly, “I’m not getting dragged into this.  Besides, I’m a Lemillion guy.”

“Not one of the choices,” Isamu told him, chuckling.  Leave it to Midoriya not to take sides.  

“I stand by my statement,” Midoriya told him.  

“Aw,” Shinso said, pouting, “you were supposed to agree with me!”

Midoriya just laughed. “Maybe next time, Shota.”

Before they could continue, the bus came to a stop.  Isamu checked the time on his phone. They’d been traveling a while now; it had been a little over an hour since their last stop.  They’d left the main roads behind after the second stop, taking back roads, until they’d pulled through a long stretch of wooded areas.  He was pretty sure he’d seen more than a few security cameras mostly hidden in the trees.  

He could see some kind of big building out the front of the bus window, and what looked like several smaller buildings spread across a well maintained lawn.  Beyond them, he could see more woods and maybe a lake.  

“Either of you recognize this place?” he asked Midoriya and Shinso.  “Is it an Agency?”

“I don’t know,” Shinso admitted.  “But it looks pretty cool!  Whoever owns this place has to be awesome!”

Midoriya’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth making a small o before a grin broke out across his face.  “Oh!  So that’s who they got!”  

“You’re not going to tell us, are you?” Isamu asked.

“Nope!” Midoriya said. Isamu hadn’t seen that mischievous a look in his eyes before.  “Don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

***

Katsumi looked around as the classes and teachers disembarked.  It was a big complex for sure.  Not exactly roughing it, though the woods around the buildings might hold some surprises, and one of the buildings looked like fairly utilitarian barracks.  It all looked vaguely familiar though.  She’d never been here, at least, not that she could recall, but she was sure she’d seen it somewhere.  Had Toshi shown her pictures?  She wouldn’t have put it past him.  Despite basically having Hero-stuff as the background radiation for his life, he still ate, drank, and slept it.

There were four Heroes waiting for them.  One was a man with spikey, sandy blonde hair, wearing a black bodysuit that left his arms bare, with silver boots, shoulder pads, belt, and bracers.  With him, there was a brown-haired woman in a pink costume that looked damn close to a princess dress decorated with darker pink hearts, who was even wearing a tiara.  Them, she recognized, Ravenous and Lady Lumious.  Ravenous had briefly been one of Papa’s sidekicks.  He even looked a bit like Uncle Tetsu, though they weren’t related.

The other man was blond, tall, with a costume in dark blue, with red highlights, boots, and gloves, along with small, gold pipe-like structures on his arms.  

Ah. So that’s who they got this year.

“Oh, shit,” she heard Monoma gasp.  Katsumi resisted the urge to cackle.  He was having a bad day for surprises.

“Why so down, little cousin?” the man in red and blue, the Hero called Boost Rush, Daichi Monoma, asked. He was a tall man, towering over his cousin.    

“I am the average height for my age!” Monoma snapped back.  “You could have at least told me you were going to be here!”

“And spoil the surprise?” Boost Rush asked.  He had the same arrogant, Monoma sneer all of them seemed to master.  Katsumi had to fight the urge to laugh again.   Monoma’s misfortunes were always funny. On the other hand, he hadn’t actually bothered her in months, no since his failed confession, so she could at least make an effort not to laugh at him when he could hear.

Katsumi’s eyes fell on the last of the four, a woman with light brown hair, who wore a costume in black, green, and orange.  There was more than a passing resemblance to Dad’s costume.  Her light brown hair was done up in twintails.  She had her arms crossed and was smirking.  It was an expression very similar to the one Katsumi and her dad often wore.

Katsumi, at the front of the group of students, gave her a smirk right back.  “They must be getting pretty desperate to turn to you, Old Lady.”

The woman’s expression instantly shifted to rage.  She pointed a finger at Katsumi.  “Still got a mouth on you, don’t you, Brat?  Well, we’ve got two weeks to beat it out of you.”

“You could try,” Katsumi shot back.  “Won’t you have to go to bed too early for that though?”

“Show some respect for your elders!”

“So you admit you’re old?” By now, several of her classmates and 1-B students were staring at her in open surprise.   Some, like Sero and Kaminari, had taken several steps back and away from her.  Toshi just looked mortified, while Aizawa was burying his head in his hands.  Even Lady Luminous and Ravenous looked vaguely puzzled.

“And so it begins,” Dad growled.  “Ladies, can we wrap this up?”

“I will when she takes that back.”

Dad just sighed. “Mahoro, you and I both know that’s never going to happen.  Can we just get on with it?”

Mahoro Shimano, also known as Vanish Veil, just grinned, but gave Katsumi a look.  “This isn’t over, Brat.”

Katsumi smirked right back. “Bring it, Old Lady.”

Aizawa cleared his throat. “If we’re all done?” he asked.  He didn’t wait for an answer.  “As some of you have figured out, this facility and the surrounding wilderness is a training facility used by the Rookies, a loose configuration of Pro-Heroes and Sidekicks, many of whom attended U.A. together, and of which Water Spout and Doc Clock are also members. They’ve got a varied skillset and are also some of the best trainers in the country; Agencies frequently send their new Sidekicks to them for additional instruction.  You will listen to them, you will follow their instruction, and you will not fight with them, no matter your previous or personal relationships with them.”   He gave Katsumi and Monoma an extra-long glare.  

“Now…” Aizawa went on.

He didn’t get to finish. “U.A. Hero students… think you’re pretty high and mighty, don’t you?” a voice, a girl’s voice, broke in.  Whoever it was, they weren’t one of the Rookies. There were five of them, she realized, coming out of the building.  Katsumi instantly tensed for a fight, wishing she had the gauntlets from her costume.

The seeming leader of the group took a step forward.  She was large, and powerfully built. “We’ll show you all how weak you really are.”

[slamsams-blog]

Thunderball - #24WeeksofBond

This week we are treated to the 1965 film “Thunderball” with Sean Connery.  This movie has always been one of my favorites, mostly because of all the beautiful under water scenes and action.  The final underwater battle for atomic bomb supremacy is one of my favorite, if not thee favorite, ending sequences of any Bond movie.  But on top of all the visual stimulation there is a well thought out plot perfectly executed by the direction of Terence Young.  The downside to this movie and the Bond series in the long run is the producer, Kevin McClory...we’ll get to him later.  

This would be Connery’s fourth outing and the last of his greats before he starts phoning it in.  There is just so much to love and enjoy with Thunderball starting with the pre-title sequence.  Thunderball opens up at a supposed funeral of a man who was working for Spectre and Bond appears to have his doubts.  He goes to follow the widow to her place only for Bond to squarely knock the crap out of her...revealing it to be the man who was supposedly dead.  This gave me a good chuckle, seeing Bond going to give his condolences to a grieving widow and then just punching her face.

If that wasn’t enough, he escapes by jet pack...JET PACK.  How very entertaining already, and the journey has only just begun...CUE TOM JONES, MF!  

Well, after a rather obnoxious performance by Tom Jones the film begins with Bond off getting rehab after his last mission. Little did Bond, or Blofeld know, that he was going to find himself on a another mission.  Bond smells something fishy is going on and starts doing some digging off the clock. The plan is to steal a couple atomic bombs and hold England for a 100 million pound ransom, threatening to destroy a city in England or the USA if they don’t cooperate.  Bond gets the files for the mission but sees photos of faces he saw while getting rehab including one of them who Bond found dead.  So Bond already has a lead in this time sensitive mission, so Bond is on his way.

By this time Blofeld and Spectre are not good friends of Bond.  He’s already ruined a few of their operations so it’s funny to me that Blofeld keeps coming up with these elaborate schemes instead of putting all his best men on a mission to just get rid of Bond.  Largo (Adolfo Celi) is the man heading the operation and quickly comes to realize that Bond is going to be a nasty thorn in his side.

While Thunderball has so much going for it in terms of story and action, the cast of characters are a bit sleepy.  Domino (Claudine Auger), whom I just learned had her voice dubbed over by a Voice Actor, pulls in a rather forgettable performance.  Largo has a cool look with jet white hair and an unexplained eye patch...but even that doesn’t really save him or make him that memorable.  No cool henchmen either, except for the crazy Fiona Volpe (Luciana Paluzzi) who likes to drive 110 miles an hour through narrow windy streets in the woods.  Those deer better watch it.

As Bond works to uncover the truth and put the puzzle pieces together we see him being followed by a mysterious man with sunglasses....he evetunally gets to Bonds hotel door...Bond opens the door AND.....(suspense) IT’S FELIX!  Ah they got us again!  Good ole Felix from the CIA is here to help with the mission, and to get Bond of out what ever type of Jam Bond has found himself in.

After an escape through a madri-gras parade, a run in with a couple sharks, and some hand grenades, Bond has finally, and quite literally, uncovered the answer to where the bombs are and can now pursue the nasty Largo to foil his plot.  This all leads up to a most wonderfully shot action sequence between the good guys and the bad guys under the sea.  Carrying harpoons and welding knives to cut the oxygen tube of your enemy as the key strategy to victory, we see an absolute war in the water.  We also see shots of all the beautiful sea creators who are like “WTF?”.  I just can’t imagine the skill it took to film the whole thing.  With the intense score backing it up, I’d be hard pressed to point you into the direction of a better fight scene in the Bond series.

This leads to the big fight between Bond and Largo on his runaway ship. The green screen work here is just laughable.  The boat, from the inside, appears to be going 1,032,231,318 miles an hour and somehow they are still able steer it away from the rocks that are 5 feet in front of them.  After the evil Largo has been killed by Domino, the final scene is Bond and Domino getting whisked away by a plane catching a string that is attached to Bond.  They make this look romantic, but in actuality, they get hauled away so fast that I would be crapping my pants.  It made me laugh anyways.

I do also wish we got one last reaction from Blofeld finding out his plans got spoiled once again.  This movie lacks a touch of closure at the end.  Largo dies and they get whisked away without seeing MI6 relived of the mission being a success or Blofeld pissed and angrily changing his cat’s litter box.

Thunderball, while plentiful of shortcomings, is stimulating to the senses and takes you on an epic journey - but this script would come back to haunt Eon Productions years later.  Kevin McClory had worked on multiple screen adaptions with Ian Flemming and got partial credit for this screenplay.  McClory had eventually been given the rights to the script and would go on later to make a Bond film of his own with the same script.  It was called “Never Say Never Again”.  12 years after Connery had said good bye to the role, would come back to play the part again...only as a grandpa.  

Never Say Never Again is an abomination and is not an official entrant into the series, so no, I will NOT be watching that garbage...if you want to on your own time, be my guest, but it’s just a bad movie.  McClory would go on to have multiple lawsuits against the Bond producers, even trying to remake the same movie again in the late 80′s and trying to recruit Brosnan for it.  But it fell through...thank the lord.

All that nonsense being said, I still love Thunderball, and is one of the highlights of the Connery series.  I hope you liked it too!  Let me know what you thought!

Reviews from Friends:

My Mom:

Boy Sean Connery was really in his glory days here wasn’t he? So young and handsome. You could always identify him in a crowd under helmets and googles by those puppy eyes. A couple things that were really funny was that silly jet pack at the start. With all our tech stuff now that scene was almost cartoony. The way his body didn’t move and the wind picked up not a whisp of hair or clothing. Then when we got a look at those nuclear bombs. They had the words printed on them. “Treat like Eggs”. Ha. It seems like it’s unique to Connery (from what I’ve seen so far) to punch a woman in the face (seemingly) or use her to shield a bullet. Don’t know if Bronson or Moore or Dalton would do that. It was a Tense under water battle but I loved the ending. It was just simple and fun. No need to string out a big explanation or closure.

Alexandra Hein-Roberts

I find Claudine Auger to be the most iconic Bond girl. She had something most didn’t.

Jake Benrud

So many things taken from this movie for Austin Powers... sharks or Ill tempered mutated sea bass? I enjoyed the movie, and laughed out loud when Sean Connery punched that woman in the face who was really a disguised man. I guess I wasn’t expecting that. Also, whoever SPECTRE employs as a plastic surgeon, I want their name. That was a perfect clone. The SPECTRE agent should have known better to try to extort more money from Largo. That’s never going to end well. The death of Bond’s assistant/field operative kept it a little bit more real. I thought the plot was decent, but I thought the underwater battle was really slow moving for my tastes especially in the beginning. Kind of a cool concept though. Bond was able to swim pretty well for getting shot in the leg. I liked that Domino got the kill in the end. Classic Bond. Great movie despite the sometimes unbelievable parts!

24 Weeks of Bond will return next Monday with - 

A View To A Kill 

[missmorior]

just a thing- unfinished but i wanna share it elsewhere so i’m putting it here

Log date 24/09/XX

My name is Fen.

This was the first thing that had returned to me upon resurrection. Eons ago it may have been longer, as this feels like a nickname more than one proper. This… Ghost, assures me that forgetfulness is normal. To remedy it, I have decided to keep a log with what I know, so that I might piece together who I once was before I was chosen by the Traveller to wield its light.

I know that now, I am… Something. A protecter of those without the light. There are not many of us, and in the wake of the Darkness, humanity is scattered to the winds- terrified but still trying to survive. Many struggle to wield this power, to shape it, but I have no such hurry. My priorities lie with the people. I pick up what weapons I can scavenge or piece together, and when bullets run out, I have my fists. The energy that consumes my actions feels… empty. Like a Void. There is comfort in it.

Log date 08/04/XX

My name is Fen. I am a Defender Titan. My ghost is called Horus. My mission is to protect the Last City.

I have not been as good at keeping a log as I had once thought. The scattered entires have been bothering me more and more now that I have remembered who I once was. A scientist under the employ of one Clovis Bray. I did not always agree with his methods but… I believe it was the only way for me to have had the freedom I desired for my work. Exos. I was one of the few who helped develop the creatures. I see them, every now and again, and am filled with mixed emotion. Joy, at seeing a creation realized. Sorrow, at knowing that not all of their programming was entirely mechanical. Disgust at…

But I digress.

I log now to account for my found fireteam. It has been decades since I have thought to form such a close knit unit, I had thought this old woman too seasoned for it. These two are young, having only recently been brought back to life. I fear for them at times. Their youth begets recklessness, believing themselves truly immortal after the first few deaths. They are high on their Light and eager to earn approval. The Warlock burns as bright as a star, her Light blinding and difficult to look at when she bursts from ash like a Golden Age myth. She is an Awoken, a true child of the Reef who fought against the Fallen, and still has the rage to show it. There is no quiet of the Void within her like my own Light, and I believe it frustrated Ikora at times to see a guardian under her watch who is so determined to buck her teachings. Never let her learn of the storm- I fear instead of control, she would let the Arc run rampant. Speaking of… Our odd third member. An Exo that was found within the depths of the Hellmouth, whose ghost knew of her existence but was terrified to traverse the Moon. I understand. But years rotting away within that unknown liquid which spawns the Hive have left her without a voice and whatever color her metal once was, it is now unnatural darkness. Fitting that this creature became a Hunter. The Bladedance called to that one, I see her blinking from perch to perch. I wonder what Cayde-6 thinks of her; a silent Hunter among his yipping coyotes.

We have worked together to bring down the Hive creature- Crota. Our part not too significant but with these two I have no doubt we will be throwing ourselves into the fray all too soon. There are stirrings from the outer reaches of the Reef and the Fallen have grown too quiet. The Warlock grows restless. We may yet be flying out to her home soon.

Log date 10/10/XX

My name is Fen. I am a Defender Titan. My ghost is named Horus. I miss my Fireteam.

Nostalgia is a new thing. I have never longed for days gone by, but in the wake of the containment of SIVA Lyra and Blink have left to pursue their own goals while I remain behind in the city. Don’t get me wrong, I love the people of the city and have found fulfillment in helping to train new Guardians. These young people, so full of life and light.. They make me feel young again! One young Titan has become something of an apprentice to me. A human by the name of Claudius. He too has no memory of his past, like so many I’ve seen, and views the loss as a challenge. He wants to become someone who his past life would have been proud of. I wonder… Have I become that? Ha, the youth these days… He’s fallen in with two Warlocks also under my tutelage, and I have faith they will be an incredible team. And we once more return to what began this log. Lyra remains out at the Reef, assisting her people in rebuilding their home and consoling those still reeling from the loss of their Queen and Prince. She manages to send messages now and again, that their work is going well, and the Awoken are banding together even stronger than before. However they are few and far between… I wonder, will she ever return to the Tower? Or will she choose to remain with her kin now? Blink has chosen to remain at Fellwinter Peak among the Iron Lords, and recent news has shown that she has fully proven herself as one of them. I still see her now and again within the Crucible when I take my trainees to see how fully fledged Guardians fight. Her Bladedance is still chaotic as ever, and the laughter as she blinks her way through seasoned fireteams to unleash destruction makes me long for our days as a team. To bring us together again and show these young ones how a real fireteam fights.

Ah, I’ve wasted enough time. A message is coming through from Commander Zavala on an urgent channel.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==

Log… Request Access… ********* Access Granted…… >Name query…. Data missing Query- “who are you?”….. >Data missing Query- “what are you?”….. >Exo. Model- unknown. Function- exploration and scouting. Query- “can you see me?”….. >Answer: yes. You are the annoying little light. You are also entertaining to irritate. Query- “can you speak?”…. >Answer: no. sensors indicate voice module has suffered extensive damage. >System query: how long have i been deactivated? Answer: “A very long time.” >System query: what am i? Answer: “A Guardian. Specifically? A hunter, though I don’t know what s-“… >Answer terminated. Too longwinded. The glowing human with you thinks I’m funny too. >System query: what is your name? Answer: “Well, I’m a ghost- oh no I can see that look don’t you cut me off again! I don’t have one-“….. >Understood. System memory recalls someone of similar fondness. They are dead now. >System believes that you would fit the name. >System query: set ‘Ghost’ name to ‘Desmond’…..? >Permission Granted….. Saving for reference….. >System query: can we hurry up and destroy some hive monstrosities Answer: “Copy that, Guardian. Let’s get you armed.”

Log……. Request Access… **************** Access Denied… ‘Cayde_is_a_loser’ is not the password, no matter how many times it has been tried >System message: Damn. Request Access… ************** Access Granted……. >System query: how long since the SIVA crisis?…. 2 years. 14 days. 7 hours. 57 minutes. >Name query….. System name set to “Blink” >System query: search systems for reference of prior system names…… Results found, would you like to restore name to “Nova-88”? >Denied…. System name remains set as “Blink” >System message: So.. Another of these logs. Des thinks he’s the only one with fancy machine bits, ha! It’s been.. A while, since I’ve bothered with these. I never took stock in the past, but more and more it’s been coming up. I don’t trust it. This SIVA business was made by Clovis Bray, who Fen and Whatever-good used to work for. There was the simulated emotions as well that were transmitted biologically and mechanically by Guardians a while back there too. Secret-y nonsense that not even the Warlocks understood. The Iron Lords returned and as much as I adore my brothers and sisters here… I think even Saladin realizes that my pack is not among them. My calling, yes. I can do the most good here and out in the wilds, not under the Vanguard’s jurisdiction. Systems still remain dodgy but I think I’m finally over it all. The Light fills in what bits are missing from my programming so I don’t even bother with trying to recover any lost memory from the previous 87 iterations of myself. They aren’t me anyway. I’m the only one who’s been a Guardian. Probably has a lot to do with the Vex tech that always makes me malfunction anyway and I don’t want to know more about them. They’re murderous robots. I kill the murderous robots. Tada! The End. Done. Anyways I have this story to record about the newbies who keep trying to climb to the top of Fe- >System reminder….. Meeting with Fireteam member ‘Havoc’ in approximately: 2 hours. Travel by ship will take: 1 hour 30 minutes. >System message: Ughhhhhh… I promised to meet her new protege. Right. This is Blink, signing off.

Log……….. Request Access….. ************************* Access De- >nO FUCK THAT THIS IS MY PROGRAMMING. SYSTEM OVERRIDE. Access Granted….. >System message: It’s gone. It’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s all gone. Why did this happen? How did this happen? Desmond is nowhere- I’ve been looking. Please let him be okay, please please please please- I can’t find my guns. There’s nothing to fight with. Where is Havoc? She was here too. I know she was I KNOW she was. What was his name… what was his NAME. I’ll KILL him. How DARE he. HOW DARE HE. >Proximity alert: friendly signature detected on approach >System query: identify signature. who’s still here >Signature identified as: Rabbit (Fiery Space Witch) >System message: Oh praise the Traveller, it’s Lyra. Someone’s alive. Someone’s safe. We need to get out. Away. I still need Desmond oh please please let him be- DESMOND. >Desmond: “Guardian… You’re alive.. I was so worried….” >System message: It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I was so scared. The Light is gone.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids]

Hallura Draft

FUCK IT. Have a Hallura bit because I actually kinda had to re-read the first part of it to get back to writing the rest. Members of the old BKE have read /pretty much all of this/ so like. why not.

To the anon who requested this? I’msososorryI’mamess.I’lldobetter! Ihope... ;A;

In which Hunk and Allura have a bit of conversation over milkshakes one night.

It was one of those nights where the weight of the universe was too heavy for five pairs of shoulders.

Hunk knew this because he wasn’t the only one still up. He’d initially gone to look for Lance, but when he knocked on his bedroom door Lance didn’t answer. He knew he was awake because the music was too loud for Lance to be asleep, but given how the day had gone, Hunk figured Lance might have wanted to be alone.

He didn’t bother knocking on the next door, Keith was away with the blade still and Hunk had it on good authority that Keith no longer slept as easily as he used to claim either.

Pidge was awake too of course, but she was always awake. She was in the green hangar where she usually was with two laptops and her tablet thrumming through information at computer speeds like the Brainiac child she was.

He’d run into Coran shuffling around aimlessly, mumbling about how he should have been sleeping and how he was going back to his quarters to try again.

He briefly considered checking on Shiro but decided that of all the inhabitants of the castle ship, Shiro was probably the only one of them who might manage to sleep tonight. It has been an odd turn of events, but if he had travelled down the hall to Shiro’s room he would have found he’d been right and that Shiro was knocked out, entirely unaware of the nerves buzzing around keeping his teammates up.

And finally, he wasn’t going to look for Allura. Because Allura was a princess who should not be bothered and who’s room Hunk had never tried to locate in the massive ship because what business did he have to ever look for said room?

He wished Matt was on board. The guy was fun and distracting and when Lance was in one of his moods (Hunk swore, just because Lance had inherited Keith’s Lion did not mean he had to inherit the stand off-ish attitude as well) Hunk could almost find some solace in the older Holt sibling. But alas, he wasn’t there, and Lance’s music was a bad sign, and Pidge was distracted, and Keith was gone, and Shiro was asleep, and Allura was still just so many eons away from him really—

So he went to the kitchen. Maybe he could figure out something fun to cook for his frazzled team in the morning. It would at least be a helpful use of his time. Except, someone else already had this idea.

“P-princess!”

“Hunk!” Allura shrieked and her knee slipped on the cabinets she’d just been climbing on to reach something on the higher levels. She lurched forward and very nearly smashed her head into the bottom of said cabinet had Hunk not rushed forward, snaking an arm around her waist and holding her steady.

“Whew!” He breathed in relief while she made a smaller surprised noise, her eyes wide and staring at the offending kitchen fixture.

“You okay?” He asked finally, slowly loosening his hold as she carefully regained her balance.

She looked a little embarrassed but otherwise unharmed. She shook her head and smiled one of her “I’m clearly a princess and thus absolutely perfect” smiles at him as he backed away.

Ah god, he held her. That was going to take a while to get over. Her waist was tiny and dipped beneath his hand and she was warm and her slim back felt nice against his chest and her hair smelled nice.

Of course everything about her was perfect that way. She was a goddamn space princess. She was bloody cosmic royalty. Maybe Hunk was being ridiculous but despite being on the same team with her, Hell, both of them being support players on Team Voltron, he always had it in his head: she’s a princess. Like a real life asleep for ten thousand years crown and castle princess and she was way too good for him.

N-not that she was ever intended to be for him, he wasn’t interested in her like that. That’s neither here nor there that’s— Okay.

Back up.

Scratch that.

Scratch all of that.

She was a princess. That made her infinitely better than the common folk. That was all. Sure, she was cool and a little dorky at times and she never held herself above anyone despite how easily she could. Really, technically, given that her parents were dead, she should by all intents and purposes be considered a Queen, not a princess. So, she was even higher in station than he’d initially thought, really.

Oh boy.

She was looking at him as if she’d said something.

He must have missed it while he was panicking. “Sorry?”

She laughed, the kind of laugh that feels like feathers in your stomach and she motioned for the cabinet. “I was looking for that machine you used the other day, the blender? I can’t seem to locate it.”

He blinked at her, considering for a moment, “... the blender? Do you even know how to use a blender?”

Just because Hunk was common folk who couldn’t exactly marry the princess in the fairytale did not mean he couldn’t question her at every turn. ‘Twas the right of the citizen to question their monarch!

She looked sheepish again, “Ah. Well. You see... I was hoping I’d figure it out.”

He rolled his eyes and shuffled his way into one of the lower cabinets, pulling out the machine he’d acquired from one of their trips to the space mall.

“You’re trying to make yourself a milkshake, aren’t you princess?”

She went pink.

“Even knowing where the milk comes from.”

She went pale.

It was pretty funny how fast and how clear her reactions were. He wondered if he was ever that see-through. Probably not. He was pretty good about remaining aloof about most things.

“W-well Pidge assured me it was a perfectly normal human practice to... milk a... cow. So. I figured... what’s the harm! Right?” She smiled again, making his chest feel a little lighter while he released a long puff of air as if he was reprimanding her when he really just couldn’t handle how adorable she could be. Finally, he turned around and walked over to the fridge to retrieve the ingredients, including the offensive milk itself.

“I’ll make it for you, I can’t sleep anyway.”

She beamed at him and clasped her hands together next to her cheek, “Thank you Hunk! I do appreciate it. If you need a hand with anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Hunk scoffed.

Help making a milkshake. Sure princess.

He waved her off and she took an extremely attentive seat at the table. Honestly, she might as well have been taking notes the way she watched him so closely. When he was done she’d probably be able to make it herself. She reminded him of himself, watching his moms dance around their kitchen.

“I used to do it too.” He mumbled idly.

She blinked and leaned across the table, “do what Hunk?”

“Watch, study, like you are now. My moms are excellent cooks. They taught me everything I know.” He nodded.

She opened her mouth to respond but he held up a hand to hold her back as he started the blender. It was quieter than the one back home but it was still loud enough it would have made hearing her respond a bit difficult. When it was done he got to work on setting them nicely while Allura spoke.

“Moms? Did you not have a father?”

Hunk shrugged, “nah, didn’t need one. Besides, Ma had a few uncles who would teach me how to play sports and junk. It’s really not a big deal.”

Allura raised a brow at this but simply leaned back on her stool, her legs tightening to keep her in place. He wondered how she could keep her balance so nicely. “I understand you humans have a sort of… small family organization. We Altean, we’re more like the saying... where multiple people from different places come together to raise the young.”

“It takes a village?” Hunk offered.

Allura nodded, “yes, that’s the phrase. I was seen to by my mother, family associates, Coran, and of course my father.”

Hunk blinked at her for a long moment, unsure if he wanted to ask if she was sure that was all Altean or just her, given the whole “princess” status. Instead he decided on a different question but she continued before he could ask. “I simply can’t imagine growing up without a father.”

At that, Hunk rolled his eyes, about to come back with “and I can’t imagine how anyone survives without a second mom” (because his parents were perfect and he never ever understood his classmates yelling about their psycho moms. Hell, Lance came in to class once bitching about how his mom had thrown some small island sized fit over Veronica’s being out late and it had utterly astounded Hunk that someone could even have the gall to be annoyed by a mom. Moms are just perfect okay?)

But once again, decided against it, knowing Allura meant no harm and she was just missing her father as she had a tendency of doing. So he steered the conversation away, “were you not that close to your mother?”

Allura blinked, almost as if she had no idea how to answer that question. He handed her the finished milkshake and she stared down at it with wide confused eyes. “I... well... honestly? If I didn’t look so much like her I might not even remember her face.”

That…was probably the saddest thing he’d ever heard. And he’d attended public school for most of his life.

“Allura…”

“But it’s alright, why don’t you tell me about your mother?”

----

annnnnnnnnnnnd that’s it. That’s what I’ve been sitting on FOREVER. Go ahead and bop me I deserve it.

[xvii-chapters]

You Are Perfect || Soulmate!Seokmin || Oneshot

GENRE: incredibly fluffy, soulmate!au, BUT CANON, CAN YOU BELIEVE, seokmin is famous here

WORDS: 2006

BLURB: He is the Sun and you are just a lonely planet in orbit. 

In this world, when soulmates touch for the first time, they start to cry.

This is the hardest part.

Sitting here, watching them; the thirteen stars who have lit up most of your days for the past few years. Looking back on it all now, it simultaneously felt like eons have past and not a second at all. Time, you have learned over the years, is relative to the experiences we fill it with and every second spent with these boys – men now – were their own small infinities.

As you wait your turn you remember how they came into your life that day; something like an accident, serendipitous and fateful. Not every moment following that was happy – there were times when even their smiles and laughter couldn’t protect you from the meanness of the world – but they reminded you constantly that the hard always came with the good so you were never sad for very long. Their determination, in turn, made you stronger too.

Hard work pays off, right, isn’t that what they say?

You made many friends along the way. Friends who are more than just casual internet acquaintances – friends you have held and laughed with and loved.

You have danced and sang and lived.

And for most of everything, it is thanks to these men who stand in front of you now.

So here you are.

You came in person to tell them, “Thank you, for everything.”

Your heart thrums as you observe them making stupid poses at the camera or whispering cheekily amongst themselves, fuelling the fire that powered fascinating ships. You were fortunate enough to have seen them in person a couple of times during Photo Op and Hi-Touch events, but never this. It took you a while to save up but it was worth it.

The Staff calls for the row in front of you to move forward and you’re another breath closer to meeting them in person.

Another breath closer to growing up.

The fairy tale ends when you want it to and you chose today. You will always love them. They will always be important to you. But eventually Wendy left her Neverland and you will have to too. It happens to everyone, but still, your heart ached. All too soon your row is called and you stand from your chair, shuffling along with the others to the back of the line.

Little Chan is first. Though he never shot up to that height everyone believed a growth spurt would do, he has grown handsomely. He beams when he sees you. You smile warmly in return. You know some Hangul but not much and definitely not enough to call yourself fluent so you had prepared a short letter for each of the members instead. He reads your note and smiles again, though it is a little sadder this time. “감사합니다,” he says, “Thank you very much.” Then he takes your book and writes something longer in it in Hangeul.

It’s okay. You can always translate it later. You let your hand hover over his head in permission and he nods, complying. You ruffle his hair like you’ve always wanted to do. You laugh and he chuckles – it felt funny, was funny, to finally get to do something you have thought about for a while now only to find out it feels just the same as if you were to ruffle anyone else’s hair.

The magic starts to fade. Little by little, their wonder waned but it didn’t reduce them. They were still the thirteen wonderful stars, only more real and closer to Earth.

You go down the line, your heart heavier by the second. You were never a crier. But faced with your happiness, it was hard not to feel sad because it felt a lot like a goodbye. They all give you the same unreadable smile every time they finish reading the letter you’ve left for them.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you near the end. It is the very last boy that you have simultaneously been dying to see and actively avoiding. You didn’t look at him the whole time you were waiting but you felt your entire being turned towards him, drawn to the sunshine smile and warm tenor, like an unwilling planet hopelessly tethered to its Sun.

In stan language, he would be known as your bias, but it’s a little more than that now. He… was the one who kept you staying for as long as you did, the one you loved a little more, your little special. Lee Seokmin.

When you come to sit in front of him, his face splits into that large full-face smile you’ve come to know and love so well over the years. “Hello!” he says in Hangeul. “Thank you for coming to our fansign.”

You smile and say the same. Your calm has been lost. You’re suddenly sad, so sad, to be leaving all this behind. The way your heart races, the way you smile unconsciously… You’re starting to miss all that because of this one man in front of you.

“Oppa,” you say, “I have something to tell you.”

He looks at you seriously. “What is it?”

For him, it was a little special. Instead of a note for them to read, you had written a longer one to read to him. Only the best for your boy, you thought, before you began. You trip over some words and needed to repeat entire sentences again because you weren’t good at reading the language still, even though you spent weeks trying to get it right, but you make it to the end. Your eyes are watering and somehow you know his are too.

The fansites quickly catch on and turn their cameras on you two, some fans calling out “괜찮아~!” out to Seokmin. You wanted to reach out and catch the tears that are threatening to spill from his eyes but you hold back.

In this moment it feels like there is only the two of you in the whole world and you want to keep it that way for as long as possible before you have to say goodbye. You hold the letter in front of you like a shield. He tries to smile.

“Oppa,” you say again, your voice is wobbling dangerously this time, “Can I hold your hand before I go?”

He nods, putting his hand out for you to take. This is it, you breathe as you reach out towards him, this is where you grow up.

Your skins meet. And then –

The sudden barrage of emotions.

It barrels toward you, sweeping over you like a heavy wave, always knocking over, everything coming in so strong, so much that the tears fall.

It can’t be.

Seokmin fingers are suddenly tight around yours, mouth hanging open with an expression akin to slight awe on his face. The tears are falling freely from his eyes too, falling onto the table below. It can’t be!

The camera shutters go off like crazy. The previous whispers are now a cacophony. There’s an arm on your shoulder, pulling you away and you realize its staff, urging you to get moving. You can’t see the staff member’s expression due to the mask covering their face but you catch a glimpse of the girl’s next to you and it is filled with hatred.

You scramble to your feet, speed-walking off the stage amid the glares and angry murmurings. You block it all out. You can’t go back to your seat now. You didn’t want to go back to your seat. With hurriedness in your step, you fled from the room.

You start walking very quickly away from the building, wanting to get as far as possible from the people, from the stares, from him. It is cold but you don’t feel a thing. Your breath clings to the air but you walk on, oblivious to the whiteness around you, a sign that fresh snow has just fallen. This was what you hoped you could get a chance to see while you were in Korea – and now it's here but you don’t even see it. In your vision, there is Seokmin, and his tears and that unmistakable yet unexplainable look of awe on his face. You are surrounded by the emotions you just felt, cocooning you from the cold and lulling you into calmness. The adrenaline seeps away and your legs start to get numb. You push your heavy limbs a little further until you spot a bench. You don’t know where you are. The hotel is in the opposite direction. But you don’t want to go back yet so you settle down onto the cold wooden seat and tuck your hands into your pocket.

Not long after there is the sound of someone running, heading straight towards you. You duck your head hoping to escape notice but it doesn’t work.

The person stands in front of you, waiting. You already know who it is. Then he says something you can’t understand. You look up helplessly and there, in front of you is Lee Seokmin. The boy you loved. The boy you have tried so hard to get over, every day for the past few months. But your efforts were thwarted time and time again; by his smile, his laugh, his voice – anything, pulling you back in one more time.

And now this.

It feels a lot like falling.

He must notice how lost you are, how out-of-balance, because his entire face softens. The frown he was wearing falls away. He sits down and takes your hand. A single tear falls down your cheek and stays there, frozen from the cold.

The boy you still love.

He smiles softly.

‘Why did you run away?’ he asks. You don’t know his language and he doesn’t know yours but the meaning of his words pour through effortlessly from his fingertips and onto yours, reaching up to murmur into your thoughts.

This is a uniqueness of soulmates – one can understand the other without needing any words to convey their feelings and the moment you think this, there is no denying what you and Seokmin are.

Soulmates.

Still, you don’t answer him. You don’t know how. All you know are these jumbled thoughts that you yourself can’t seem to decipher. He senses your confusion and squeezes your fingers. ‘Are you afraid?’

You think about it. Then you nod. ‘Very,’ you respond eventually. ‘Very very afraid.’

‘Why?’

‘Because…’ You love him. And it scares you that you do, even now, when you have told yourself so many times over that it is time to go.

‘Because…’ He is the Lee Seokmin. The precious Sun to a million planets, the gravitational pull of this solar system, the one that keeps so many alive and breathing.

‘Because…’ He is so PERFECT and you are just you. He was Lee Seokmin and you are just one in a million girls who love him.

When you turn back to him there are tears in his eyes, but he is smiling. You look at him in alarm but he just shakes his head. Then he laughs. A loud, barking laugh – the one you have only ever heard in videos when he’s around his friends and having too much fun; the one he reserves only for something that makes him particularly happy.

‘You are perfect,’ Seokmin thinks laughing some more like he’s the luckiest man on earth. Then he does the unexpected. He collects you in his arms and brings you close, the warmth of his joy piercing through the layers of clothing and spread across your skin. ‘You are perfect, you are perfect, all that I ever wanted and need.’

He pulls back to look you in the eyes. You’re still terrified. But something about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, lets a buzzing feeling bloom in the pit of your stomach. It’s warm and glows. He brushes his thumb over your lip.

‘You are perfect,’ he says, leaning in slowly, ‘And I am lucky to have you.’

[shadow-wasser]

WIP Fic Whenever: The Weakest, Of the Gods

WIP Fic Friday is a place where I will put a ‘quick and dirty’ first draft of either a short story or a chapter from a longer story. This will hopefully encourage me to improve my writing output. I missed last week... oops. This is from the “The Gods Have Horns” setting. Warning: Eye-related horror.

You always thought you were, kind of, the weakest of the gods. Not because Breath is like, a shitty aspect, but more because you never really went that high up the god tiers, and Pages are like, supposed to have further to go, than most.

You don’t mind that much, though. You don’t need lots of flashy powers to enjoy life.

You wander. You fly. You sometimes accidentally run into other gods, or hear them calling your name from afar. You rarely answer them. Generally speaking, other trolls have not been kind to you, and you much prefer the company of beasts. All of you turning into immortals with robes and wings and shiznasty powers has not changed that basic fact.

You don’t hang around the aliens much, either. You might stumble upon some accidentally, if they’re in that span of time between when they start talking, and when they start building cities. But you don’t stick around long. After locals spot you, they tend to say your name, for thousands of years afterward. It’s a little annoying.

So, you find worlds of animals. Worlds upon worlds where only animals walk, where nobody splits the air with speech. You’re not all that lonely. You tell yourself you’re happy.

(You can hear Eridan calling your name sometimes. You don’t ever say his.)

You are reclining under a tree in the moonlight on a vast savannah, listening to chirping night-critters, writing beat poetry, in your head, to their songs. Then you see the lights, moving above.

A spaceship.

You are not afraid, but you are cautious, and disappointed. You’d rather that a star-faring civilization not colonize this world. It’s always a pain, to have to find a new planet to live.

The starship, which is truly enormous, comes to ground, and you know, even before it lands, that it’s not a regular alien ship.

It’s purple, for one, and bedecked in banners and streamers and flags. Those sorts of decorations, you’re pretty sure, don’t usually survive on spaceships. They burn up, or something.

And you recognize the sigil, on the banners. The aspect of Rage.

You haven’t seen Gamzee in, well, probably eons, but you don’t really keep track of time anymore. He stopped calling your name, after only a few years, when you first split off from the rest.

You’re pretty sure, he doesn’t miss you, anymore.

You’re not sure, if you ever missed him.

Aliens are coming out of the spaceship now, opening up the sides. They are all sorts of different aliens, many you’ve never seen before.

The spaceship unfolds like an intricate paper sculpture, inflating into a tremendously giant tent. There’s a carpet rolling out along the ground, and out of the tent steps-

Whoa, he’s huge.

You shouldn’t be surprised. You all can basically look however you want, now, within trollish reason. Like, you can have working legs, when you want, which you usually do. Also, you can look more like an adult, if you want, but you usually don’t like to. You like the way you feel, when you look young.

But Gamzee must be, eight feet tall, at least, not counting the horns. He’s wearing a black and purple vest and a fancy coat, striped pants and heavy boots. You can’t see his face clearly from under your tree, but you’re certain he’s still wearing his subjugglator paint.

You should go greet him, right? Maybe you can convince him to leave this planet alone, for whatever it is he’s doing. But he’s all dressed up and you’re basically just wearing your godhood. You quickly try to make yourself presentable, dredging an old hat with a feather in it out of your sylladex, even though the green clashes. You wish you had some real pants.

You feel kind of silly, for being nervous. It’s just, Gamzee, right?

Gamzee is talking with one of the aliens, but he looks up as you approach. And yes, it’s still Gamzee, he still has that lazy, satisfied expression, though his purple eyes have a degree of intensity you don’t remember being there before.

“Tavros,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your horns vibrate. “And there I thought you’d up and died ages ago, brother. Miracle.”

“Uh,” you reply. “No, I’m alive. I’ve been alive, this whole time. I think.”

“None of us had our knowing on about that there thing what you said.”

You feel a little bad, now. You might have told them you were alive, at least. When you speak, your tone is a little defensive. “I’ve been, exploring. And, communing with the animals. It’s peaceful, out here. And no one, judges me.”

Gamzee’s painted brows crease, but then he smiles. “Brother, why don’t you come inside? See my ring?”

“Uh, sure?”

You follow him behind a curtain, and into his ship. Inside it’s purple, and shadowy, and it smells bitter and musky. You can see aliens of various shapes and sizes running around, through curtains and around mirrors. You can hear distant screaming, or maybe it’s laughing? Maybe it’s applause. The air is full of smoke. By the time Gamzee and you reach your destination, your eyes are watering.

It’s the very top of the tent, a wide balcony from which Gamzee can look over the rings being set up, and the savannah stretching to the horizon.

There’s an alien there, its face painted in black and white, and Gamzee waves a hand at it. “fuck off.”

It fucks off.

Gamzee settles himself in a chair that looks more like a throne, and you are amazed at how easily he fits there, fits here, now naturally he seems to take up divinity. Not a hint of uncertainty, not a pause of hesitation. Every inch a god.

You’re almost envious.

“Lots to do here, brother,” he says. “We meet in a time of miracle and wonder.”

“What are you here to do?” you ask.

“Spread the mirthful word, my brother. Ain’t been a whole planet devoted to the Carnival, not yet.” He smiles lazily, and maybe there are a few more teeth in the grin, this time. “High time for there to getting been done.”

“The whole planet?” You can’t keep the surprise from your voice. “Not just, like, one city?”

“Naw, brother, got to think bigger than that. Nothing but tents and rings and sideshows and freaks, far as your motherfucking ganderbulbs can see and then more.” Gamzee gets up from the throne and walks up to the edge of the balcony, resting his arms on the railing. Then, he turns.

“But enough all and about me, my invertebro! What is all up and happening with you?”

“Gamzee, I… That’s all, very nice, and all, but I’m not sure that’s all, a good idea? Turning the planet, into one big, um, circus?”

Gamzee frowns, and, for a moment, narrows his eyes at you. You take a step back.

Then, he’s smiling again. “Brother I know we ain’t got our squawk on in millions of sweeps and all, so you don’t got it in your pan that I got my motherfucking understand on what all this is about you dig?”

“W-what?”

“Rage, brother. You even know what Rage is all about?”

“Not, um. Really. I mean, I know it means, being angry, but it’s probably more than that, because Breath is about more than, you know, breathing.”

“What’s Breath about?”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I want you to get me all up in the schoolfeeding, Tavbro. What’s your motherfucking aspect all getting itself about?”

Breath… you know what it is. You know it in your core, like the sigil has been branded into your thinkpan, which is probably has, now that you think of it. Breath is freedom. Unfetteredness. The feeling of responsibilities being shed, of being light as air, of being held accountable for nothing.

You think you’ve done a pretty good job of being Breath.

“Freedom,” you say, eventually, uncertainly. “Breath is freedom?”

Gamzee laughs. You don’t see what is so funny.

“Aw, brother, I’m all about that too!”

“Huh?”

Gamzee leans forward, and his voice quiets. “Rage, brother. Rage is the hole what’s left when freedom’s gone. Rage is the thing in your thinkpan that makes you stop. Makes you hesitate. And I kill that. I MOTHERFUCKING KILL THAT!”

You jump at the change in volume, then feel immediately sheepish.

“Aw, Tavbro, don’t be all scared. It’s all good and miraculous that every single one of my motherfucking followers has all their Rage gone. Would be a better motherfucking world if everyone just said what’s on their motherfucking mind and did what they motherfucking wanted. Freedom. Brother, don’t you agree?”

You swallow. “Uh, I’m not sure I understand. I thought you were a, Bard? You don’t destroy, directly, right?”

He shakes his head. “Naw, brother. But it goes and shrivels and dies all on its own. Here, I’ll up and show you.”

He turns, and looks out at the savannah. The animals have never seen aliens before. They only look up curiously, don’t run, as Gamzee’s followers set up the circus.

He points. “See that motherfucker over there?” You go up and look. It’s one of Gamzee’s followers, a funny looking red alien with four arms. “He’s been wanting to try something but ain’t letting himself do it. And that ain’t no way to be thinking in my Carnival.”

Gamzee looks at you, and smiles, mouth friendly and eyes hard. “Don’t want none of that in my Carnival, brother.”

The red alien, who had been focused on erecting a large pole, turns to a brown furry alien next to him. And without hesitating a moment, he reaches up and rips out the furry alien’s eye.

And eats it.

You don’t watch the rest.

“I think that’s kind of sick.” you manage to say, eventually. “Did you, make him, do that?”

Gamzee actually looks confused. “It’s freedom, brother. It’s only what he wanted all and up to do, all in real life like.”

He must see the distress in your expression, because he then follows that up with: “We do the same thing, Tavbro.”

“No, I,” you don’t know what to say. He’s going to make your planet (you can’t help but think of it as yours), your whole planet, be like that? Without restraint or empathy or kindness? “I don’t think it’s the same thing at all.”

Gamzee frowns, then just as quickly smiles again. “Sure thing bro. We don’t gotta work together, though it’d all make me as happy as motherfuck if we up and did.”

He turns to look at the view again. “You can still up and stay if you wanna get your watch on, my brother. Or go on chilling with the birds and bees if that’s what speaks to you and all.”

“Gamzee,” you say, after a moment. “Can you, um. Use a different planet, maybe? I kind of, like this one?”

He looks at you, sidelong, and says nothing.

“Like, I like it, how it is? Not made into… a carnival…” You trail off.

“This is a good planet for a Carnival, bro. Not like you were up and using it.”

“Gamzee, don’t- I was kind of, living here-”

“IT’S NOT LIKE YOU WROTE YOUR MOTHERFUCKING NAME ON IT!”

Gamzee whirls, and his appearance is transformed. His fangs are bared, expression furious, and the scleras of his eyes look more orange than yellow.

“Tavbro, you ran, you can’t claim nothing. NOT MOTHERFUCKING NOTHING. Ain’t even acting a real god, just running around playing like you’re STILL A MOTHERFUCKING KID. This planet is MOTHERFUCKING MINE, brother. Can’t claim NOTHING. And I. Am going. TO DESTROY THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANET. And there ain’t nothing you’re gonna do about it, are you?”

You sit down. Hard. You are sitting in a four-wheel device. You didn’t realize you still had one. You’re not sure if you can move your legs, actually. Or feel them.

“Didn’t motherfucking think so.”

Gamzee turns, to look back at the Carnival. And you…

You can feel it. The animals. Ripping into each other. Killing mates, killing young, predators going mad, fear-aggression spiking into suicidal terror…

He’s wiping out the whole planet.

Your planet.

By now, your communing abilities are highly developed. You’re more powerful than the Summoner, more powerful than any mortal troll could ever have been.

But when you reach out to get the animals to stop, you can’t. Divine power trumps psionics, you guess.

You have divine power. You are the Page of Breath. The Page to Breath. But if this is freedom… what does Breath want from you? You wish you were a Seer.

But you’re no Seer. Barely even a Page. You’re sitting there in your chair like a fool. The clown made a fool of you.

For a moment, you think you might hate him. Then you realize, no, you just want to be free of him. You just want-

And that’s when you get it. You really, actually get it.

“Gamzee,” you say slowly. “I think, there might be, two kinds of freedom.”

“What the motherfuck are you talking about?” he rumbles.

“Yeah, there is… there is freedom to. That’s your kind of freedom. But I think my kind of freedom is freedom from. Which is different. So that’s, I think, what I’m going to do.”

You Breathe.

And they are free.

All of them. The animals, the followers. Free of their burdens. They are free now, of Gamzee. They can do what they want to, really want to, and not just reflexively enact their most base impulses.

You can hear cheering, from below. Or maybe screaming. Maybe applause.

“What the fuck did you do!” roars Gamzee, turning on you.

You stand up. The chair is gone. You do not need to be afraid of him. You are free of your fear.

You spread your wings.

“I think, I’m doing, what I need to do,” you say. “Which is, to say, stop you.”

The wind whistles, and-

------

It is the first time, but not the last, you fight another god openly.

It is the first time, but not the last, you really felt divine.

------

Your planet, at least, died free.

[interstellarre]

Delve In The Depths. Chapter IV

Word Count. 1.5k

a/n. I feel like the story line is getting pretty confusing currently? Please let me know if I should slow the story down. Also, I'm going to be starting to write stories from this world not being a specific chapter.

Trigger Warnings. none

Series Masterlist

Chapter IV.

"Mortals such as yourself should keep better watch of your weapons. Do you know what happens when your dagger falls in the wrong hands?" the young man, well in looks you dare to presume, frowned at the weapon previously occupied on the floor. He stared you up and down, arms on his hips, analyzing you.

"And I've supposed you've never dropped something in your thousand year life?" you test the waters with a joke, tilting your head and laughing.

"Hmph, I can't understand your sense of humor." He turns his head and starts to walk away, making virtually no sound on the wood planks as he steps." Starting to turn away yourself, you stop mid-step to shout. This is your chance to receive the answers you've been waiting for. "Wait!" He looks over at you.

"Who's Bosacius?" you ask. His scowl returns. "Bosacius? What do you know of this name?"

Where have you heard that name? Your mind rushes to literature. Weren't adepti commonly discussed topics in Liyue's history? "I found a book in Wanwen Bookhouse," you bluff, "It contained a book regarding the topic of adepti, where his name was mentioned."

"That piece of literati fan fiction seems to be popular these days," he mused while you attempted to keep a neutral expression as if you knew what he was talking about. He must have heard it from someone else who read it. "Very well," he sighs, "I will answer your questions. In exchange you will answer questions of my own."

"Very well." agreeing to his deal. Fitting for a follower of Rex Lapis you suppose. "First," he starts, "How was karmic debt tainting you when I saw you in the morning? I didn't see you before this incident occurred. I am sure this wasn't a result of my own." Karmic debt? Is that what it was called?

"I don't know, I’ve had these symptoms all my life.” You admit.

“All your life? His face turns into one of deep confusion. Deep in thought.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing of your concern.”

In an attempt to steer the conversation away, you mention Bosacius. “And what of Bosacius? Where is he now?" Xiao's eyes narrow and the tension in the air thickens.

"Gone, I would think someone who read a book on Adepti would know that fact." he abruptly stops the conversation and you know he's caught you in your lie. "Where did you hear the name Bosacius's name?" he was starting to tighten his grip on his polearm.

"I heard it in my dreams." you cutting his decision to put a spear through your heart.

"Your dreams?"

Standing besides you now, he felt the guilt pouring over his soul as he looked down upon your relaxed features. A rush of familiarity went over him, one that he hadn't felt in eons, as he he delve into your dream.

"Isn't this ironic? With myself possessing a pyro vision and you a geo vision? Vaporization and Erosion?" Bosacius and Menogias look to the sea. Bosacius staring in silence while Menogias chattered, up to her usual antics. The waves crashed among the huge boulders of stone while the wind whipped Menogias's hair into a frenzy, though she didn't take it as a need to tuck it behind her ear.

Together they watched the shore and reminisce the lullabies sung by the waves and the wind. Meno's ranting silenced.

"When do you think this war against the fester of the slain gods will end?"

Bosacius tilts his head to look at the pyro user, "Hearing a comment as sensible as this from you is one in a million. I must be blessed by the divine." he mused. "Very funny." was the prickly reply from Menogias, as she reached to pull her mask from her face.

That was all Xiao needed. He collapsed out of the dream. It tasted nothing like the dreams he oh so frequently used to consume from mortals. "Bosacius? What is the meaning of this?"

II.

La Signora stood staring at the sea. The cool breeze rushes past her face and blew her hair to the side. Drumming her fingers over the ship rails, she seemed to be lost in her thoughts about times far away, years ago in the Port of Liyue Harbor. Coming back to the place always brought back the memories.

"Do you believe that this will the be weapon to finally destroy the Tsaritsa?" a fatui agent, Alexey, to her right asked, crossing his arms.

The haughty woman to his side asked, "Do you take me for someone that would fail to utilize their weapons when achieving their goals?" Signora asked.

A ferryman walked by them both and they hushed their voices.

"No, my intention was not to underestimate you my lady."

"Of course." Signora scowled, watching her entourage heaving her belongings up the ship. As the men carried the boxes up the stairs, a baby's wail rang out, making all the men wince.

Coming back to reality, the 8th harbinger shakes her head. An image of you sat down, glassy, blank eyes staring at a barred window while fatui agents guard your door clouds her mind. "A failed plan to dethrone your queen." a voice would ring out as the Cryo archon sat staring at the kneeling harbinger.

The ship's horn blast waking Signora out of her trance. One of the agents opens the door and assists the harbor worker with the necessary precautions.

The same monotone routine plays out. Her accomplices tow her luggage down the stairs. Alexey speaks to her in his usual quiet manner, "All the needed preparations for your arrival have been done, my lady." She nods her head, causing the wood stairs to creak as she stepped down to look at the bustling city. The merchants averted their gaze as the crowd stepped aside to let her walk. Alexey trailed behind her, nearly getting hit by her blond strands of hair fanned by the powerful breeze. A Qixing representative steps forward to greet her.

"La Signora, a honor," he offers his hand to which she shakes albeit hesitantly. "I-" he started only to look up and realize Signora had sauntered off. Looking back he watched her stride up the stairway tailed by her lackey. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs in defeat.

The guard straightened his posture at her arrival, his form rigid. The doors swung open to reveal the empty lobby room with the exception of Ekaterina. "Master Signora," greeted Ekaterina, with a slight tremble to her usual pleasant tone. "Master Childe can be found at-"

The creaking of the door and the sound of shoes tapping on wood stops their conversation and causes them both to look back only for Signora to be greeted by a hurling figure pulling her into a tight hug.

"Such a sweet sight." a voice crooned behind them, "Could the fierce some harbinger be losing her touch?" which received a glower look from his fellow harbinger as you pulled away to look at the newcomer. "Snezhnaya's bloodhound proving useless commentary around Liyue. I believe you were recalled back to Snezhnaya? What reason do you have to be here again?" she snarled, gripping you tighter on the wrist as if he would steal you away.

You look back and forth between the both of them, the auburn haired man baiting for a fight and your suddenly snarky mother. You hold a hand out to the hydro user, which sticks out attached to his belt.

"It's [Name]."

"Childe, nice to meet you comrade." he offers his hand in response, flashing you a mischievous smile. You could feel your mother's glare at the back of your head. Wasn't it the mothers that were supposed to have eyes at the back of their heads? You mother pulls you away by the shoulder, "It's about time we head off Childe, I'm sure you'll find time to talk later."

"Right, of course," Chide verifies though he doesn't look too thrilled at the thought. Signora leans in to talk into your ear. You can smell her signature lavender perfume, nothing like the flowery scent that drifted out of Ying'er's shop. "We'll talk later." Ah, there we go, you can smell the motherly interrogation from a mile away.

She takes her leave following after Childe slipping through the doorway. Alexey breaks you out of your unseen panic.

"Shall we?"

The people of Liyue don't take too kindly to your fatui companion, you catch side eyes and whispers as you past them on your way to Third Round Knockout. You spy Chongyun nodding at Xingqiu with a rather determined look on his face as if he signed up for an extremely dangerous mission. Knowing Xingqui and the laughter he's hiding, it's definitely a possibility.

"We aren't meeting at Wanmin Restaurant today? Shame." sitting down at the third stool, holding your face in your hands, with a dramatic sigh. Chongyun shivers at the though of some of Xiangling's spicy dishes.

Xingqui welcomes your presence with a clap of his hands. "[Name]! How kind to grace us with your presence! I was just informing Chongyun here about the presence of a scary ghost seen in Qingce Village!" all said with a troubling smile. Chongyun starts to rise out of his seat as the waiter comes to take your orders. He starts going on about having to head to Qingce Village, inviting you for the ride startling the poor waiter.

Oh dear.

[ajaegerpilot]

omg seeing emma fall for the same old trashy guys when audrey is Right There is generally awful and i can’t believe we’re never getting a season 3 where she and audrey get together and you know what, i don’t really like emma all that much, she doesn’t annoy me and i side with her motivations 99% of the time but i honestly just am doing that thing where i ship characters together because i like one character a lot and that character likes the other character so I want them to get together. emma/audrey never kissing is homophobia, audrey never getting a sex scene on the level of the Straights is also homophobia, and ofc all the Bury Your Gays tropeism + murder of all characters of colour while keeping the main cast white is ofc actually genuinely shitty. this is not a good show but it’s a lot better than similar shows I’d watched and is like generally well done which is surprising? i marathoned the entire show within two days so here’s some general thoughts:

people getting pissed about bi rep not being labelled really gotta step aside because audrey, a girl who only dates girls and after kissing one (1) guy tells him she loves him but not like that and is quite obviously a butch lesbian, her only cannon label is an inside joke ‘bi-curious’. though i’m also quite into the headcannon that audrey only dates girls and only likes 1% of guys when venus is in retrograde and identifies as bi because that’s also a real thing. like sga people are never going to be labelled in media because media is inherently uncomfortable with us, all of us. people getting mad at straight people calling potentially or actual bi characters lesbians or whatever have some really misplaced anger because on a scale of shitty things that happen to bi people that is a 0.1 and while they need to correct themselves that’s about it.

also it’s unrealistic that audrey is friends with like 6 people and they’re all straight but tbh she’s going to college soo HC that that gets fixed (but honestly even in hs gays find each other somehow so noah is an annoying bi guy, emma is a lesbian because she honestly really seems to have very little agency with guys who are interested in her and just tends to be into them when they become interested in her or when her friends expect her to be interested in them like??, brook is bi.. just let it happen mtv scream.. when audrey and brook were together @ the party and they flirted .... Let It Happen, and stavo is definitely a weird q kid and he and noah def vibe off each other Im Just Saying)

would i recommend this show to people? if you like hannibal or teen wolf this is basically a mash up of the two, with little hints of life is strange (namely the entire main cast being white but also the friendship b/w 2 girls playing a semi-major role in at least the second season). it’s like generally well-done (??), im ridiculous so in both seasons i did not guess who the killer was At All, the characters (??) can be (?) likeable (??????), it’s not so much of a comedy as I was expecting, though it has funny moments and a lot of meta moments, but it is very entertaining. but like idk. i basically just came for audrey, and fell as hard for her character as i was expecting, and then everything else was extra. 

there is no rape (though there is a character that has sex with a character where if character2 knew a certain truth about character1 they would not have consented but that’s it other than the finale episode which references some attempted rape but condemns it by the narrative), no incest, but I think it’s relevant to mention the statutory rape that occurs between a character and her teacher which, while not portrayed as the ideal is still not condemned as much as I would have and while she eventually gets a restraining order put on him the relationship really just serves to normalize parent/teacher relationships in our culture ://. while the lesbian does kiss a guy she does it while she’s high (and also kisses his girlfriend) after hallucinating that she’s kissing her old girlfriend and while he says that he probably always wanted to kiss her (they’re friends) she shuts him down and tells him she’s not into him like that and he accepts it and it doesn’t change their friendship and it’s never done in a titillating way and she like never expresses attraction to him so honestly i think it was more about sowing discord between her and his girlfriend than about anything truly ill and i can chalk it up to Teens Being Teens. speaking of, this show has a dreadful case of ‘hire 20 year olds to play teenagers and have them have sex on-screen,’ and i think this shit just goes ahead to normalize adults preying on teenagers IRL but w/e w/e.. there’s ofc a lot of killing a lotta blood/gore, and they can’t get rid of the actors of colour fast enough, but like other than that? i was expecting AHS levels of fuckery and honestly if AHS is a 10 than this show is a 3 (if teen wolf is 2 and hannibal is a 7). honestly, this show is better than Hannibal and I like it more too. Hannibal had some Moments but like?? scream >> hannibal any day.

also there is some suicidal themes in season 1 which i can get into more detail abt but w/e. that’s all i can think of :// ultimately eons better than hannibal and that’s the final conclusion..

[readbookywooks]

The last wisps of magic, now somewhat slowed, were disappearing into the ceiling. 'To the Great Hall!' The stairs were much wider here, and better lit. Panting and pineapple-flavoured, the fitter wizards got to the top by the time the fireball had reached the middle of the huge draughty chamber that was the University's main hall. It hung motionless, except for the occasional small prominence that arched and spluttered across its surface. Wizards smoke, as everyone knows. That probably explained the chorus of coffin coughs and sawtooth wheezes that erupted behind Galder as he stood appraising the situation and wondering if he dare look for somewhere to hide. He grabbed a frightened student. 'Get me seers, farseers, scryers and withinlookmen!' he barked. 'I want this studied!' Something was taking shape inside the fireball. Galder shielded his eyes and peered at the shape forming in front of him. There was no mistaking it. It was the universe. He was quite sure of this, because he had a model of it in his study and it was generally agreed to be far more impressive than the real thing. Faced with the possibilities offered by seed pearls and silver filigree, the Creator had been at a complete loss. But the tiny universe inside the fireball was uncannily – well, real. The only thing missing was colour. It was all in translucent misty white. There was Great A'Tuin, and the four elephants, and the Disc itself. From this angle Galder couldn't see the surface very well, but he knew with cold certainty that it would be absolutely accurately modelled. He could, though, just make out a miniature replica of Cori Celesti, upon whose utter peak the world's quarrelsome and somewhat bourgeois gods lived in a palace of marble, alabaster and uncut moquette three-piece suites they had chosen to call Dunmanifestin. It was always a considerable annoyance to any Disc citizen with pretensions to culture that they were ruled by gods whose idea of an uplifting artistic experience was a musical doorbell. The little embryo universe began to move slowly, tilting . . . Galder tried to shout, but his voice refused to come out. Gently, but with the unstoppable force of an explosion, the shape expanded. He watched in horror, and then in astonishment, as it passed through him as lightly as a thought. He held out a hand and watched the pale ghosts of rock strata stream through his fingers in busy silence. Great A'Tuin had already sunk peacefully below floor level, larger than a house. The wizards behind Galder were waist deep in seas. A boat smaller than a thimble caught Galder's eye for a oment before the rush carried it through the walls and away. To the roof!' he managed, pointing a shaking finger skywards. Those wizards with enough marbles left to think with and enough breath to run followed him, running through continents that sleeted smoothly through the solid stone. It was a still night, tinted with the promise of dawn. A crescent moon was just setting. Ankh-Morpork, largest city in the lands around the Circle Sea, slept. That statement is not really true. On the one hand, those parts of the city which normally concerned themselves with, for example, selling vegetables, shoeing horses, carving exquisite small jade ornaments, changing money and making tables, on the whole, slept. Unless they had insomnia. Or had got up in the night. as it might be, to go to the lavatory. On the other hand, many of the less law-abiding citizens were wide awake and, for instance, climbing through windows that didn't, t belong to them, slitting throats, mugging one another, listening to loud music in smoky cellars and gener,erally having a lot more fun. But most of the animals were asleep, except for the rats. And the bats, too, of course. As far as the insects were concerned . . . The point is that descriptive writing is very rarely entireliy accurate and during the reign of Olaf Quimby II is Patrician of Ankh some legislation was passed in a determined attempt to put a stop to this sort of thing and introduce some honesty into reporting. Thus, if a legend said of a notable hero that 'all men spoke of his prowess' any bard who valued his life would add hastily 'except for a couple of people in his home village who thought he was a liar, and quite a lot of other people who had never really heard of him.' Poetic simile was strictly limited to statements like 'his mighty steed was as fleet as the wind n a fairly calm day, say about Force Three,' and any loose talk about a beloved having a face that launched a thousand ships would have to be backed by evidence that the object of desire did indeed look like a bottle of champagne. Quimby was eventually killed by a disgruntled poet during an experiment conducted in the palace grounds to prove the disputed accuracy of the proverb The pen is mightier than the sword,' and in his memory it was amended to include the phrase 'only if the sword is very small and the pen is very sharp.' So. Approximately sixty-seven, maybe sixty-eight per cent, of the city slept. Not that the other citizens creeping about on their generally unlawful occasions noticed the pale tide streaming through the streets. Only the wizards, used to seeing the invisible, watched it foam across the distant fields. The Disc, being flat, has no real horizon. Any adventurous sailors who got funny ideas from staring at eggs and oranges for too long and set out for the antipodes soon learned that the reason why distant ships sometimes looked as though they were disappearing over the edge of the world was that they were disappearing over the edge of the world. But there was still a limit even to Galder's vision in the mist-swirled, dust-filled air. He looked up. Looming high over the University was the grim and ancient Tower of Art, said to be the oldest building on the Disc, with its famous spiral staircase of eight thousand, eight hundred and eighty-eight steps. From its crenelated roof, the haunt of ravens and disconcertingly alert gargoyles, a wizard might see to the very edge of the Disc. After spending ten minutes or so coughing horribly, of course. 'Sod that,' he muttered. 'What's the good of being a wizard, after all? Avyento, thessalousl I would fly! To me, spirits of air and darkness!' He spread a gnarled hand and pointed to a piece of crumbling parapet. Octarine fire sprouted from under his nicotine-stained nails and burst against the otting stone far above. It fell. By a finely calculated exchange of velocities Ga.cer rose, nightshirt flapping around his bony legs. Higher and higher he soared, hurtling through the pale night like a, like a – all right, like an elderly but powerful wizard being propelled upwards by an expertly judged thumb on the scales of the universe. He landed in a litter of old nests, caught his balance, and stared down at the vertiginous view of a Disc dawn. At this time of the long year the Circle Sea was almost on the sunset side of Cori Celesti, and as the daylight sloshed down into the lands around Ankh-Morpork the shadow of the mountain scythed across the landscape like the gnomon of God's sundial. But nightwards, racing the slow light towards the edge of the world, a line of white mist surged on. There was a crackling of dry twigs behind him. He turned to see Ymper Trymon, second in command of the Order, who had been the only other wizard able to keep up. Galder ignored him for the moment, taking care only to keep a firm grip on the stonework and strengthen his personal spells of protection. Promotion was slow in a profession that traditionally bestowed long life, and it was accepted that younger wizards would frequently seek advancement via dead men's curly shoes, having previosly emptied them of their occupants. Besides, there was something disquieting about young Trymon. He didn't smoke, only drank boiled water, and Galder had the nasty suspicion that he was clever. He didn't smile often enough, and he liked figures and the sort of organisation charts that show lots of squares with arrows pointing :o other squares. In short, he was the sort of man who could use the word 'personnel' and mean it. The whole of the visible Disc was now covered with a shmmering white skin that fitted it perfectly. Galder looked down at his own hands and saw them covered with a pale network of shining threads that ollowed every movement. He recognised this kind of spell. He'd used them himself. But his had been smaller – much smaller. 'It's a Change spell,' said Trymon. The whole world is being changed.' Some people, thought Galder grimly, would have had the decency to put an exclamation mark on the end of a statement like that. There was the faintest of pure sounds, high and sharp, like the breaking of a mouse's heart. 'What was that?' he said. Trymon cocked his head. 'C sharp, I think,' he said. Galder said nothing. The white shimmer had vanished, and the.first sounds of the waking city began to filter up to the two wizards. Everything seemed exactly the same as it had before. All that, just to make things stay the same? He patted his nightshirt pockets distractedly and finally found what he was looking for lodged behind his ear. He put the soggy dogend in his mouth, called up mystical fire from between his fingers, and dragged hard on the wretched rollup until little blue lights flashed in front of his eyes. He coughed once or twice. He was thinking very hard indeed. He was trying to remember if any gods owed him any favours. In fact the Gods were as puzzled by all this as the wizards were, but they were powerless to do anything and in any case were engaged in an eons-old battle with the Ice Giants, who had refused to return the lawnmower. But some clue as to what actually had happened might be found in the fact that Rincewind, whose past life had just got up to a quite interesting bit when he was fifteen, suddenly found himself not dying after all but hanging upside down in a pine tree. He got down easily by dropping uncontrollably from branch to branch until he landed on his head in a pile of pine needles, where he lay gasping for breath and wishing he d been a better person. Somewhere, he knew, there had to be a perfectly logical connection. One minute one happens to be dying, having dropped off the rim of the world, and the next one is upside down in a tree. As always happened at times like this, the Spell rose up in his mind. Rincewind had been generally reckoned by his tutors to be a natural wizard in the same way that fish are natural mountaineers. He probably would have been thrown out of Unseen University anyway – he couldn't remember spells and smoking made him feel ill – but what had really caused trouble was all that stupid business about sneaking into the room where the Octavo was chained and opening it. And what made the trouble even worse was that no-one could figure out why all the locks had temporarily become unlocked. The spell wasn|t;sa demanding lodger. It just sat there like an old toad at the bottom of a pond. But whenever Rincewind was feeling really tired or very afraid it tried to get itself said. No-one:knew what would happen if one of the Eight Great Spells was said by itself, but the general Agreement was that the best place from which to watch the effects would be the next universe. It was a weird thought to have, lying on a heap of pine needles after just falling off the edge of the world, but Rincewind had a feeling that the spell wanted to keep him alive. 'Suits me,' he thought. He sat up and looked at the trees. Rincewind was a city wizard and, although he was aware that there were various differences among types of tree by which their nearest and dearest could tell them apart, the only thing he knew for certain was that the end without the leaves on fitted nto the ground. There were far too many of them, arranged with absolutely no sense of order. The place hadn't been swept for ages.