#micro monster trucks

[kollectorsrus]

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Prompt for a micro fic! Buck and Tommy watch The Princess Bride together because Tommy mentioned it at one point. And Buck notices that Tommy's "Of course" he so often hears sounds a lot like Westley's "As you wish".

Omg, first off, love your blog 🥺 Second off, I'm sorry it took me a beat to get to this, but I knew I would get to it. Fantastic prompt! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Of Course

Buck liked movie nights with Tommy.

He really did.

He liked visiting Tommy's house. He liked curling up on Tommy's couch. He liked that there was only enough room on there if they were practically on top of each other, which meant he got to lay on top of Tommy a lot like a weighted blanket.

And he liked Tommy's taste in movies.

It was adorable. It was. Tommy wasn't going to fight anyone on thatt, he knew he liked the most saccharine of shlock.

Buck kind of loved it too.

It was fun to lose himself in romantic comedies. Buck was more than happy for Tommy to rub Buck's back or play with Buck's hair absentmindedly as he talked about each film; gushed about them - praised themes, shots, plots. Gave entire TEDTalks about the importance of motifs and the symbolism in some of the films.

Or just.

Sometimes.

Talked about the love of it all.

And Tommy listened to Buck all the time. Buck would word vomit the history of the prey mantis and Tommy would be happy to listen; to ask questions; to understand and take in what made Buck excited.

And.

And Buck found himself enraptured by this. And this wasn't the only thing Tommy found himself talking too much about. There were monster trucks and mixed martial arts fights and flying and craft beers too.

But this might be Buck's favorite subject of Tommy's.

"There's something about Westley and Buttercup, you know?" Tommy said, almost - almost yearned, "I remember seeing this for the first time on TV and - and wanting. I wanted to feel that. A love that could withstand years apart. A love who would always come back. A love that would throw away titles, who would face off people in power in our lives and would still want me. I - I don't know. And I kind of wanted to be that too, you know? I wanted to be the kind of person who could do that. And - and I haven't been that for most of my life. And I'm not sure if I am that now. But I like the idea of it."

And there was something.

Something to the "As you wish" of it all.

Buck watched the film and heard that and thought of every time Tommy had said of course.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet."

"Of course."

"Hey, uh, glad you could make it."

"Of course."

The first coffee date after the failed date. The botched bachelor party. Tommy's first night sleeping over at Buck's apartment. Their first movie night at Tommy's. The second try at having a dinner date at Micheli's. Tommy picking Buck up from work. Tommy helping Buck babysit Jee.

Of course, of course, of course, of course, of course, of course, of course.

And Buck could hear it now. The romantic as you wish in every of course Tommy ever said; always sincere and always kind and always too soft for Buck to handle.

Buck took Tommy's face in his hands.

"Of course you like the idea of that," Buck practically gushed, and okay, maybe surprised his boyfriend with a kiss.

[dynamoe]

→ hear the Venture Bros Xmas song on KenPlume's youtube → back to the Billy Quizboy & Pete White index

Billy Quizboy as the rabbit-toothed guitarist DAVE HILL of glam rock band SLADE— sporter of the worst bangs in rock n' roll history*— circa their 1973 Christmas #2 Merry Christmas Everybody**, which was covered as the annual Venture Bros holiday song this year by Pete White, Master Billy Quizboy, his mom and her lovers (the elderly superhero polycule).

Merriest Twelfth Day of Christmas to you, to Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer and to Slade and anyone else still reading.

I know with the orange hair & eye patch, which Dave Hill did NOT have, Billy looks more like Ziggy Stardust— the Quizboy:Slade ratio is a delicate balance.

If you're wondering why you've never heard this song before, know Slade is more of a British thing, really. They had a ton of British hits in the 1970s as a glam rock band, but didn't make any impression in the US until the 1980s after Cum on Feel the Noize was covered by Quiet Riot. They had a minor US top 20 hit, but still remained primary a British thing.

Merry Christmas Everybody— not released in the US as far as I know

Noddy Holder was more of the “face” of Slade (head to toe plaid, mutton chops, top hat covered in mirrors). I suspect the all-plaid outfit on Col. Gentleman in the Vbros cover art is a take on Noddy's look... or he ignored the brief and dressed as one of Scotland's own Bay City Rollers.

Slade suffered from a lesser case of Cheap Trick syndrome, where every member dressed like they were in a different band. Dave dressed full spaceman-- face glitter, every variety of metallic fabric available (lurex, glitter knit, vinyl, lamé). The other guitarist whose name I won't look up wore a red lurex suit (I guess that would be Pete's outfit in their cover band) which he had to keep replacing because he sweated so much on stage the fibers literally melted (one of the suits was preserved by the V&A on an episode of Secrets of the Museum) And no one cares about the drummer.

The only reason I know anything about Slade — I'm no rock trivia geek, I’m a comedy nerd — Slade was a constant punchline in 1990s British Comedy. Noddy appeared on Never Mind the Buzzcocks in the LaMar era. The 1993 sketch show The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer had a recurring mini-sitcom “Slade in Residence” (the band living in a suburban home together, wearing their stage costumes, eating nothing but cup-of-soup, obsessing over monster truck rallies and­— the key to their appeal to Vic and Bob, I imagine­— whining in thick Black Country accents.)

Billy is my Covid muse and if he stars in the annual Christmas cover (he had only sung before on 2006's VentureAid; read poems on their take on the Beatles Fan Club records), it's not like I CAN'T draw something despite saying I was done with this fan art shit. I promised a *technically* Christmas Billy drawing and I *technically* delivered. ___

*Dave Hill was just being a futuristic spaceman, those micro-bangs were the hotness on all the skater girls of the late 1990s.

**Having the #1 song at Christmas is a big deal in the UK (as you may remember from the Bill Nighy segments from Love Actually) and the 1973 slug match between Slade's Merry Christmas Everybody and the eventual winner Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday looms large in music trivia, to the degree that I was sure Astrobot Go was going to release a cover a day later of some other (more fan-favored) characters doing their version of Wizzard to rain on Billy et. al’s parade.

→ Wizzard

So which character dons the beard and harlequin eye facepaint to be the guy from Wizzard? Probably Hank, right?

→ go to the Billy Quizboy & Pete White index → Nobody'sSweetheart on Instagram

[dimalink]

Head-off and funny racing at the countryside

Three dimensional scene for today based on racing game like Micro Machines. Or isometrical little racing games arcade type. Racing with pickup trucks. Style of 3dfx first 3d games. Just like for first or second Pentium graphics. Three dimensional accelerators can do a cool three dimensional graphics. Textures. Polygons. And this is amazing!

My three dimensional scene about same theme. Funny and head off (Freaky) racing! They are going all over the weekend. And they are goes type of Formula 1 or Nascar. When there are lots of circles! Several hours of racing! Everybody race. Such entertainment for countryside.

Someone, maybe, think, that all interesting things are going in the city! And how can it be true? No way! At the countryside, at the country house, village everybody race with such little cars. There are building a tracks. And it is going to happen a head off (freaky) and funny racing. From morning till morning. All night, all evening long. And, of course, all over the hot day! This is 100 percent.

There are lots of players. So, here it is something like Nascar, there are hard situations. Cars pandemonium. Steel monster can ride each other. To crash. So, it can be everything here.  So, it is of course, it is possible to simple not to turn into a corner right way! With a speed.

Attention! Here there are hills! And road goes a little higher. And, later, goes down, again. So, be ready, to jump! But, not from a car, fool! And with a car! To control the wheel and to continue the race!

So, how much, I miss this fun, sometimes! Anyway, there are not lots of racing games like this! And, so, fun it was! Stupid laughing and push gas pedal to down. Something will to happen, that’s for sure, something funny at the road! You can give a signal, honk, when you are riding! Maybe, someone, who is more clever will give you a road!

Road has two lines only. Theoretically, you can go forward. To have a time to move forward behind opponent. Of course, opponent will never be happy about this and he will bock the road. To take a central side. And again - take a wheel harder! Full gas to pedal!!! Go forward to overrun!

Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

TUMBLR: https://dimalink.tumblr.com/ BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/ MASTODON: https://mastodon.social/@DimaLink

[hugh-lauries-bald-spot]

House - Mini Drabble

inspired by this scene from severance

word count : 479

He fiddled with the small apartment key in his hand, pinching it, feeling the sting of the jagged grooves on his thumb. A quiet song played out through the office, a mellow, unassuming tune that would be familiar if you really tried to remember. House looked down, eyes following some unknown dot that floated about aimlessly in the room. Head hung in a weary misery that took all strength of body and mind with it, he chuckled without breath. 

“You know you can take your time.” Doctor Nolan reassured him. He’d been there with the man for all of 10 silent minutes as he twirled the key between his fingers. They’d gone longer without talking. Some nights, House simply came in, sat, twirled the key in his hand, and left. Maybe a tear shed, or let out a watery cough, or choked on the beginning of something too honest to speak, but for the most part he seemed devoid of realization entirely. He wore the expression of a young boy who’s ice cream had fallen into a puddle, his face eternally expressing that micro-moment just before he cried.

“My best friend was… a good person…” he finally began, chest hollow. He spoke with a factual kind of sadness in his voice. “My best friend… liked to pretend he didn’t like monster trucks… and when he’d turn on the TV he’d always turn the volume up, just to turn it down again…”

The soft grip he had on the key grew shakier, his hands struggling to hold onto the memories contained in the small, metal object. 

“My best friend loved Hitchcock movies… we watched the one with Danny Devito on the first night we moved in…”

Dr. Nolan gave a small nod. He’d done away with notes, he’d already logged what he needed to know about House when they’d first met. This was his time to cope, this was his time away from isolation, though no company could bring him out of that loneliness he wished away with pills and a a few smokes too many. 

“My best friend thought rubber page flippers were useless…” he thumbed over the broad, smooth side of the key. It gleamed from House’s repeated, delicate handling. His eyes had ceased moving, they were fixed to the floor as everything died out around him.

“I loved all these things about him…”

A tear dropped silently to the floor. He swallowed thickly as his body trembled, eyes brimming with un-shed sorrows.

“Equally…”

The music ebbed and faded through the space, every color muted or grey, every shape meaningless and undefined. 

He awoke suddenly to a loud, metal crash. 

“RISE AND SHINE!” shouted the guard, raking his baton across the bars like as if playing an impromptu instrument, like they did in the movies. 

House opened his eyes slowly as the calamity moved down the hall. The only sound he could hear was the quiet humming of a mellow, unassuming tune from his cellmate above.

[blueikeproductions]

G1 Transformers S4 notes

Continuation of previous write up: https://at.tumblr.com/blueikeproductions/transformers-g1-s4-notes-set-a-few-years-after/agphdrav3jp3

Micromaster teams.

Both Autobot and Decepticon Micro teams are primarily generics, especially for the Decepticons. Most of the generics are cars and some assorted jets, red for Autobots, purple for Decepticons.

The main Decepticon Micros are the Sports Car Patrol and the Military Patrol. They’re arrogant and dumber than a box of rocks. The Construction Squad assists the Constructicons in maintaining Trypticon and Scorponok. When the Constructicons are permanently fused into a downsized Devastator, the Construction Squad become overwhelmed by the increased workload.

The main reoccurring Microcons are Spaceshot and Blackout, who work directly with Shatter, Backdraft, Cyclonus and Scourge. Being the dim but highly loyal soldier and the cowardly dork, they don’t have the most upstanding fans among the Decepticons, but they mean well. They pilot the anti air craft base that functions as an extension to Trypticon. Greasepit runs a bar, creatively called “Greasepit’s”, in Trypticon’s city mode, and assisted in the study and implementation of Nucleon. Later, with RatBat, he tries running a gas station scam on Earth in an attempt to harvest more energy for the Decepticons, but was foiled by the Bee Team and his own foolishness. When Transforming his gas station into Battle Mode to attack the Autobots, Greasepit wound up using all of the stolen gas just for that alone… The Airwave air port base is also attached to Trypticon and used to deploy Decepticon flyers. It was later hijacked and relocated by Starscream’s team as a base for his own operations.

The main Autobot Micros are Ironworks and the Construction Patrol, who help maintain Autobot City with Wideload and Quickmix. The Rescue Patrol, Hot House, and the Monster Truck Patrol are also reoccurring, with Pretender Eagle Eye being good friends with the chronic complainer Slow Poke. If something needs done, Eagle Eye is usually the one able to coax Slow Poke into it. Medic Fixit of the Rescue Patrol often works with the Bee Team, and suffers from a glitch where he struggles to get the right word out every other sentience. Multiple Tanker Truck and Missile Launcher teams are fixed at Autobot City to supply power and defense. A Tanker Truck filled with Nucleon under the watch of Pipe Line and Gusher was stolen during a Decepticon attack and taken back to Char for experiments. The Astro Squad work alongside Cosmos and Sky Lynx for space missions, and assisted in the original discovery and acquisition of Nucleon with Optimus Prime, Wheeljack and Perceptor. They also were monitoring the black hole when Nucle-Ai emerged from it. Later on the team split in half, with Sky-Lynx’s half investigating increased Quintesson activity while Cosmos’s half stayed to monitor the black hole. Feeling a bit exposed without Sky Lynx, he requested assistance from Countdown and his rocket base when the Decepticons aboard Scorponok made an attempt on the black hole later on.

When Hot Rod was downsized into Micro size by testing Nucleon on himself, he was installed as the commander of the Micromaster patrols. Hot Rod takes to the leadership role with gusto, enjoying another shot at being an Autobot Leader but without the stress of leading the ENTIRE faction. He’s since even returned to going by Rodimus to embrace this, with some Autobots playfully calling him “Rodimus Micronus”. He has a particular affinity with the Race Car and Hot Rod Patrols, and it’s implied Hot Rod named the later after himself to the team’s mild annoyance. When the Bee Team and Nucle-Ai need a Micro’s touch for a mission, they call on Rodimus to pick the best for the job.

A mysterious pair of Micromaster twins would later emerge from the black hole. One called Caliber and the other Scabbard, they combined to form the immensely powerful Nucleon Saber. The Quintessons instead dub it as the “Nucleon Key”, with Nucle-Ai as the “Nucleon Ignition”, and see it as paramount to their plans with dealing with the Transformers once and for all.

The Saber itself seems linked to Nucle-Ai, realizing its full potential when in her presence, and was initially under Autobot custody and wielded by Bumblebee the most. However, a Decepticon attack by Backdraft’s unit trying to acquire the sword saw Scabbard captured by Iguanus and Shellrazor. The reptilian rapscallions assumed they could still use ONE of the twins for their purposes but were berated by Cyclonus and Backdraft for instead creating an unintended stalemate.

In the companion Heathers AU, Dan Braverman has been looking for the Nucleon Saber to add to his collection. Caliber was sold as a pack in accessory for an Autobot, a special Nucleon Mode Pretender Bumblebee, while Scabbard was sold with a Decepticon, a Nucleon Mode Pretender Starscream which instead used a unique human woman Pretender shell seen in an off beat plot in the comics based on the S4 storyline. This Starscream was hard to find, making it difficult to fully assemble the sword for kids and collectors. When comparing the Heathers to the Decepticons, Chandler is the draconian Backdraft, McNamara is the withdrawn Shellrazor, with Dan specifically comparing Duke to the female Starscream toy because of the toy’s green colors and Duke’s Starscreamish tendencies.

[glorious-blackout]

Oh the album ask! 🥰

Tbhc and Origin of symmetry

Thank you! Excellent choices 😉🥰

Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino:

Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino

The Ultracheese

Four Out Of Five

American Sports

One Point Perspective

Golden Trunks

Star Treatment

Science Fiction

The World's First Ever Monster Truck Front-Flip

She Looks Like Fun

Batphone

Origin Of Symmetry:

Megalomania

Space Dementia

Bliss

Dark Shines

New Born

Futurism

Citizen Erased

Hyper Music

Plug In Baby

Micro Cuts

Feeling Good

Screenager

'send me an album and i’ll put the tracks in order from most → least favourite'

[nnjzz]

MESA OF THE LOST WOMEN + ALTERSGRUPPE + GAËL SEGALEN / ANDY BOLUS + IXQZM

JEUDI LE 12.12 Le Non_Jazz  aura lieu au SHAKIRAIL ! 72 rue Riquet  75018 M° Marx Dormoy

avec MESA OF THE LOST WOMEN fr ALTERSRUPPE ca / l / fr / us GAËL SEGALEN + ANDY BOLUS fr / uk IXQZM tw

19:30 portes 20:15 1er live! On ouvrira les portes plus tôt que d'habitude 19:30 afin que celleux qui ne le sont pas encore puissent effectuer leur adhésion ( gratuite ) au Shakirail - ce qui peut occasionner un délai d'attente un peu plus important que d'habitude à l'entrée, venez tôt si possible donc ! d'autant plus que NB / IMPORTANT le portail du Shakirail fermera autour de 22:00 !

Toute sortie : définitive ! Le premier live commencera au plus tard vers 20:15! On devrait terminer les lives à 23:30.

P.A.F. libre mais CONSCIENTE SVP entre 6€-10€ fortement conseillés ! MERCI pour votre compréhension !!

MESA OF THE LOST WOMEN fr metz Le duo messin de free-noise-rock, expérimental, abrasif et extatique, composé à l'origine de Yves Botz à la guitare / électronique, Christoph Sorrow à la batterie officiera cette fois-ci dans une version augmentée en trio, inédite par ici :  avec Florian Schall ( du groupe de black metal, Loth )  à la voix ( " borborygmes primitifs " ).

" Le feu n'est pas mort. Hurlants brûlants vrais faux gitans pas mutants les Mesa of the Lost Women (guitare électrifiée et drums électrochocs; l'épilepsie lubrique) r'trouvent l'paradis... Là maintenant... Des tentations certes, -et lesquelles ! La nuit se peuple. C'est eux qu'elle étreint, qu'elle enlace... qu'elle convoque de son ardeur salopée, succube violente catapultée loin très loin de tout nanar boiteux... Collision drive over the rainbow. Le feu n'est pas mort. "  Fabrice Eglin Revue & Corrigée #62

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDoyrMloOdo

ALTERSGRUPPE ca / il / fr / us Super-groupe international-composite-cosmopolite, néanmoins parisien  - on y reconnaît pêle-mêle des gens reconnaissables via d'autres entités et domaines de leur activités telles que, pêle-mêle,  City Dragon, Smetti Subito, Cmptr Mthmtcs, Bed Dataries etc.

Free-form-improv, no-fi déglingue, gondolée et de guingois à base de voix, basse, cassettes, électronique, analogique, batterie, voire quelques autres bricoles pas forcément amplifiées ni identifiées. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaaRvXIGMg4

https://thefilmgallery.bandcamp.com/album/tfg-printemps-2021-altersgruppe

GAËL SEGALEN + ANDY BOLUS fr / uk "Andy Bolus, est ainsi comblé. Autour de lui il y a les cloches, le resto chinois, la forêt, les courses de monster trucks et les villageoises. Tout est sur place. C'est un artiste local.Les choses qu'il fait voir et écouter sonnent fort et sont émouvantes, elles forment de la buée sur sa caméra." (Gaël Segalen)

"Gaël Segalen, spécialiste dans les expériences sur les micro-organismes découverts sur les météorites dans les années 70, tombés en Suisse, maîtresse de reverbe contrôlée avec son cerveau." (Andy Bolus)

Duo électronique / junk noise / musique concrète inédit réunissant ces deux " artistes sonores "à la suite d'une sortie d'une résidence récente et fort fructueuse à la Générale Nord-Est, et présentant un aperçu de cette collaboration pour la première fois en public.

https://p-node.org/residencies/andy-bolus-and-gael-segalen-stu-dio-residency

https://ihearu.bandcamp.com/ https://evilmoisture.bandcamp.com/music

IXQZM tw Influencée par la culture insulaire et la puissance envoûtante de la nature,elle tisse une musique immersive, une exploration inconsciente au cœur d’une jungle électronique. Fly - Jo L'Indien

x

[the-firebird69]

These are great and they sell like hotcakes and right now they're very popular people don't know about them just several features you should know. Most of them have a toilet most of them have a stove most of them have a TV you can watch it outside or inside and all of them have a good size decent size bed it sleeps too all of them have it it turns into a dinette all of them have an outside shower for the most part you have to check they have storage for blackwater gray water freshwater and propane it's not even electric range unless you order it and then it's mixed and it's a very good deal there's other things going on they're pretty big and we will get to them shortly

Thor Freya

Something to look at his price these are only $8,000 but the one I designed for Coleman it's only around 11:00 but if you can't get one you can get this and my husband says that you can have a lot more aerodynamics with this a lot better mileage and your vehicle handles a lot better it's lighter by a lot and it is about 800 lb lighter and really that's four or five people and people find that to be intriguing and a small SUV can carry it quite easily and some cars and that's what they want to full size sedans most of them can even though they said the Kia could not they're doing that for some reason it says he thinks it's because it was a V4 and it wasn't no it was someone said

Hera

Zues

Is a V6 but it could hardly pull a car at times so yeah you need a V8 with any VA you can pull this teardrop and or separately the Coleman lightweight one it's about 1700 lb the limits usually 2000 and it's a very nice way to do things with the V8 usually you can put in a second radiator and a third for your transmission and this never a problem

Thor Freya

Olympus

[bigtinytoys]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Hasbro MONOPOLY Super Mario Celebration Edition Board Game Brand New Classic.

[jvstinderosa]

Some of my toy photography featuring animals

[darkland-blood]

I know that you consider Blaze as Jeep and Crusher as Big Rig, but what vehicles are the rest of the Monster Machines, according to you? ^^;

Soo, i did my research, and i will be only giving the types of vehicles they are since findung out the actual model of them is very hard and time consuming.

Zeg:

Zeg was probably the easiest because according to the wiki, Zeg is not a Truck. He is a Dino/Truck hybrid.

By looking at his Design there are some hints that he might be a big rig, like his horns or wide windows, however his body mostly resembles that of an animal from the show.

Since i couldn't find anything that would resemble him, i came to the conclusion that Zeg would probably be a costum vehicle.

Starla:

Her wiki says the same thing about her as Blaze's, she's a monster truck.

But ofcourse, i was not pleased with this, so i kept digging.

I noticed that she kind had a buff design, so she must've been a bigger vehicle.

I also looked at some details and my eye imediatly cought her lower (???) Part. She has a large Open Trunk which idicates that she might be a Pickup vehicle.

Stripes:

Thankfully the Wiki has already done my Job for me and it has Said that Stripes resembles a Jeep Wrangler, but i'm gonna shorten it to just Jeep.

But... When i looked at the Pictures of a Jeep Wrangler i wasn't really pleased, as the Pictures showed a vehicle with a toppanel, which Stripes does not have.

So i kept digging.

Thankfully i didn't have to Look for Long because all i had to do is search "topless Jeep Wrangler" instead of "Jeep Wrangler" and i was pleased enough to leave it there.

So yeah, Stripes is a Jeep.

Watts:

Watts was a very difficult one for me because of her very complex and unique design. The Wiki states that she is a topless Monster Truck, which does not help at all.

I Spend a Lot of time on the Internet however the vehicles i found where either Not or barely resemblimg her. So i went a bit further and looked at vehicles that might come out in the Future.

However i couldn't really find anything there either as almost every vehicle i saw was either way bigger, way more complex, hell, some even looked Like they were murder weapons that only exist in SCI FI movies.

I thought that she might be a Kind of topless Jeep, however the deeper i looked the more it was a possibility that she's not one.

Because of her unique design, i think that she might be some kind of Future vehicle.

Darington:

At this Point the wiki can go fuck itself.

Darington was kind of a Mixed bag, but i managed to get the conclusion that he might be a smaller Pickup vehicle that has been custumed.

He has a large Trunk and small place for two passengers. His Trunk is covered by His Cape however i think the Cape might be a shield of sorts to protect his back, kinda like armor.

Pickle:

As i said before the Wiki can Go fuck itself because it didn't Help Here either.

Thankfully pickle was an easy one.

Looking at his Design i thought that He might be a Micro vehicle, but that was Not the Case.

Pickle is actually bigger than i fought, and so i came to the conclusion that he is probably a hatchback vehicle.

(This took quite some time but it Sure was fun to write ^^)

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

I have a weird request:

Android!Virgil and Cyborg!logan in a kinda dark fic about Virgil figuring out that he's an android/breaking down a bunch of times and having to be updated or repaired with new tech and memories. (The new tech being fake stuff to make him more human-like. Like a fake pulse or something) and every time he gets a reboot virgil and logan re-fall for eachother. (Romantic analogical with background royalty or rociet, you choose.)

Rust and Bones

Word Count: 1,524 CW: Abuse implied, memory loss, food mention, mentions of bones.

Author Note: Soulmate trope in use- Ink marks are present on the body. When your soulmate is in the vicinity, the marks will slowly move to follow them, reaching out and being on the body part closest to them. When you touch, the ink marks connect with each other in the place with the most contact.

Logan crowed in triumph, his hands hovering in the air as Virgil turned on. “Virge? Darling, can you hear me?”

Virgil looked around the room. “An500, ready for instructions.”

Logan sighed. Once every three months, Virgil’s owners, Logan’s stepfamily, sent him off to be upgraded and reset. Logan had been trying to think of a way to at least get around the memory wipe but it seemed nothing worked. “An500, register your name.” He waited the three heartbeats it took for Virgil to look at him. “Virgil.”

Virgil smiled. “My name is Virgil.” His voice still sounded so robotic.

Logan stood. “Free from factory settings. Use personality pre-set two.” This was the closest he’d gotten, being able to pre-program his snarky personality.

Virgil blinked a few times. “Personality pre-set two, initiated.” He looked at Logan, voice changing from the standard cheery to his usual sass and indifference. “How can I help?”

Logan rubbed his elbow, where flesh met metal. “I’m Logan, by the way. Start by putting those tools away, please.” He gestured to the table beside them that was covered in tools. Tools Logan had used to try to fix Virgil.

Virgil got off the low stool and started gathering the tools. “You gonna tell me where to put these or am I just supposed to guess?”

Logan groaned, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Of course, sorry.” He picked up a tablet and sent the labeled map of the workshop directly to the android. “There. Now, I’m going to wipe this grease off.”

Virgil gave a thumbs up, focused on his task.

Logan entered the tiny bedchamber he occupied, more of a closet than a room, filled with pictures and memories of him and Virgil. He ignored every memento and went through the doorway leading to his bathroom, a place even smaller than his bedroom. Luckily, some water came out of the tap when he went to shower.

The dirt and grime of his week washed away, leaving a purple ink splot on his shoulder, the part of his body closest to Virgil. He rubbed the soulmark, hugging himself as it slowly followed Virgil’s movements around the workspace. Holding his hands in front of him, Logan looked at the metal hand and forearm that was starting to rust, desperately trying to imagine it as flesh and bone. He’d been so young when it happened, he didn’t even remember becoming a monster.

Some would see that as a blessing.

The water didn’t stay hot for long. It never did. Still, he stood under the cold spray for a few moments longer before dressing.

The weeks passed slowly, lonely without his Virgil’s company. Sure, Virgil was there and helpful but it wasn’t the Virgil he knew. It wasn’t the Virgil that would hold him as he slept, that would laugh with him during repairs, that would do a hundred little things to make the time pass easier. Their usual banter was gone, replaced with sarcastic replies that shut down conversations. It was as if a stranger was wearing his lover’s face.

About a month after the reset, Virgil found Logan counting what little cash he had. “What are you doing? What’s the money for?”

“I’m doing odd jobs here and there. The family doesn’t know about it and I want to keep it that way. I want to get out of here one day, start a new life somewhere.” A life where he didn’t have to worry about the love of his life not knowing him, a life where he wasn’t worked to the bone with nothing to show for it.

Virgil’s face fell. To anyone else, it would have looked barely different, but Logan had spent the last year studying Virgil’s micro expressions. “Oh. Okay. I just came to tell you that I’m finished. Anything else you need?”

Logan shook his head. “No. I’m sure the family has some use for you.” He hoped Virgil came back in one piece.

He didn’t.

Not fifteen minutes later, Logan heard a loud thump and snap and rushed up the stairs to find Virgil lying on the ground, his left leg broken just below the knee. Oil leaked from the break and from his eyes as he cried black tears.

Logan’s stepmother turned to face him. “Oh, good, you’re here.” She pointed at Virgil. “Be a dear and fix it for me?”

Logan held back a scream of anger and frustration and instead went over to Virgil. “Hey, you’re going to be fine. Just focus on me, baby.” His voice was low enough that only Virgil could hear.

Logan wiped the tears away as Virgil clung to him. Logan tried not to think of the purple and blue ink drops that were winding around their highest point of contact. He helped Virgil stand, holding the leg in his flesh hand and supporting Virgil with the metal.

They made it down the stairs and Logan helped Virgil sit on the table while he gathered supplies. “What happened?” Logan kept his voice soft and gentle, no judgement found within.

“It all happened so fast. I was first just trying to help with something but she bumped me and suddenly I was falling over the stair banister, my leg taking the brunt of the impact and snapping.” Virgil watched Logan sit on the low stool in front of him and get to work on welding his leg back on. “Thank you.”

Logan looked up at him. “This fix is only temporary. Your leg will be replaced when you go in for maintenance.” He tried not to think of what else maintenance meant for him.

“I didn’t mean just for the leg.”

“Oh.” Logan realized he meant the comfort from earlier. “That was nothing.”

Virgil reached out, stilling Logan’s hands. “You’ve never treated me as anything less than human. I think it’s what I love the most about you.”

Logan didn’t dare look up from his purple hands being held by Virgil’s blue ones. Finally, he kissed the back of Virgil’s hand, rubbing his thumb over it. “How could I not treat my soulmate well?” His voice was quiet.

Virgil tilted Logan’s face up and lent in, being met halfway.

The next two months found the pair renewing their romantic relationship and taking on more odd jobs to make more cash. The plan was for them to run off in the dead of night, before Virgil was reset. However, as all plans tend to do, it went awry.

Logan’s stepmother stood at the top of the stairs that led down to the workshop, the farthest into the space she’d go, three days before the planned escape and told him to get Virgil ready. He knew that meant he was going to the shop to be reset and upgraded, probably to have his leg replaced as well. When Logan asked why, she tersely replied that they had an opening and agreed to take him early.

Logan went and told Virgil, too agitated to stop pacing. Virgil stood from his stool and held Logan, one hand fumbling in his pocket. “Things are going to be okay. I thought this might happen.”

Logan sighed, laying his head on Virgil’s shoulder, watching their soulmarks move to that spot. “What do you have in mind?”

Virgil pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket. “This has all my memories up until two hours ago. You hold onto it while I’m reset. Then, while they expect you to be putting me back to normal, we escape. Go as far as we can and don’t look back.”

Logan carefully took the backup drive. “How long have you been planning this?”

Virgil shrugged. “Since you told me about the memory reset half a month ago.”

Logan nodded, remembering the night he’d woken from a nightmare of Virgil being reset, and stowed the drive in one of his pockets. “Okay, this can work.”

The worst feeling Logan ever felt, bar the first time Virgil didn’t recognize him, was having to watch and do nothing as Virgil entered the truck that would take him to be reset. Logan spent the next few hours in agony, pacing the length of his bedchamber. All his and Virgil’s personal belongings were stored in an old suitcase his stepfamily had thrown out for having a broken wheel.

He received a message that Virgil was done that evening and rushed to the front gate to wait for the truck that dropped him off. He brought him back to the workshop along with as much food as they could smuggle in unnoticed.

It was only a matter of ten minutes for Logan to put Virgil’s memory in. They shared a tender kiss and both shed a few tears. Logan filled Virgil in on what he missed while they waited for the sun to set and the house to quiet down before they left, exiting out a side door.

Logan had a bus pass from traveling to and fro and androids rode free, on account of being seen as property rather than people, so they hopped on the bus to see where it would take them.

[jondoe297]

a little fun at the flea market lookin for toys yesterday after doin a not fun task

first off a buncha Micro Transformers from 1988! especially love the one that transforms into a DeLorean!😍

these four also originally came in a set together so extra neat!

a lil Road Champs Tanker Truck Monster Truck from 1987. Micro Machines an similar stuff are always a win for me. it also has a funny name 'Tanker Truck Monster Truck'

Megatron from Hershey's Treasure Surprise,which is basically a box with Hershey's Kisses an lil Transformers/My Little Pony figures. i just think it's a real neat concept,an a real great figure for the size! now obviously i hate the company so at least i'm not givin them any money here.

Flash from Justice League 'Flixstars'. they're called that cuz they have a tab thingy that you press down an launch them at each other to 'battle'. i love this line cuz it's DC an whimsical 80s style unpainted figures. 3 more an i'll have the whole set!

Kevin Levin action figure!

a small Mikey from the 2007 movie💕

now i'd love to find his brothers too in the future

another 'Marvel 500' Iron Man minifigure. this time with a random repaint. i actually got im cuz the guy didn't have change was like 'take another one with it'

and one last thing Phantasm Pop!! this one wasn't a thrift the local game an collectible shop posted about a bunch of half price Pop!s an i got this one. the box is slightly damaged but half price right!

[rex101111]

Not sure if this is your vibe, but I was thinking of a concept where for whatever reason Sol and Baiken swap their respective himb- erm, 'friends,' but it lasts for all of five minutes before Axl and Anji want to go back to the terrifying murder machine that they're used to because holy shit this is scarier than they expected

Anji is used to Baiken threatening him with dismemberment if he jokes a bit too far, he’s long since honed his reflexes to react the second Baiken’s arm even THINKS of getting near her sword. The thing is, Baiken is scary, yes, but she is also human (hard as that is to believe sometimes), so there’s a hard limit to what she could do.

Sol...is not human, obviously, and sometimes does shit that is on a scale that even Anji, for all of his experience in dealing with Gears, and more pointedly Asuka, finds just this side of freaky. He’s also less...reactive then Baiken is. Anji is never sure if that twitch of the eyebrow is because he’s holding in a sigh or an urge to crush his head. 

Baiken has tells, she twitches and scoffs and has all sorts of little micro-reactions that he’s learned over the years to recognize. Plus, she likes him, a bit, so he can, and does, use that to his advantage. When he isn’t scowling Sol is just this...wall, a wall who barely reacts to anything. Every joke is a moment to hold your breath and see whether or not that huff was annoyance or a warning to get to a minimum safe distance.

Anji is used to a sort of verbal tennis, a back and forth with Baiken. She says one thing, he says another, on and on until the subject wears itself out. But with Sol it’s like pitching a cotton ball at a wall. A wall that really doesn’t like you and could crush every bone in your body with a twitch.

Axl...has never been more terrified in his entire life then the moments he spends alone with Baiken. And considering his rather sheepish disposition, that is saying something. Sol, for all of his mountain crushing strength, is actually rather chill once you get on his level. It took Axl a long time to get on his level, but he’s found that he can just rattle off for a few minutes while Sol drinks and the man would just indulge him in his silence. They even have some common interests, which means he always has a default to resort to if need be. Sol has very specific buttons, and Axl knows them all and knows to avoid them.

Baiken seems, to him, to be made of nothing but buttons. Every joke, every remark, every comment, is like throwing a handful of pebbles at a minefield and hoping for the best. The thing is, Axl is a chatterbox, especially when he’s nervous, and boy does Baiken make him nervous, so every second in her company is like unloading a truck full of rocks at that same minefield. She’s vocal, she twists every word he says in a way that makes him regret ever being born with a tongue.

Axl talks like he does because he’s used to Sol just...letting him go at it. A sounding board for him to vent at and not expect anything less then silent and sympathetic solidarity. Baiken does not take kindly to her vocal space being invaded without something to offer in return, and Axl is just. Not equipped to handle that. She’s too sharp, too quick, too jagged in a way that Axl just doesn’t know how to approach.

Baiken is used to bouncing shit off of Anji, waiting for him to smile like a moron and bite back in a way that makes it look like she isn’t some dangerous thug. He knows how to make her feel...human.

Sol is used to watching Axl take a seat next to him and vent, leaning on him and knowing exactly when to pause so Sol can add his two cents. Axl knows how to remind him that he isn’t some monster. Knows how to make him feel...human.

They switch back after about a week, and Anji and Axl vow to never repeat this nonsense again because honestly, some things just aren’t in their wheelhouses.

Baiken and Sol share a look, quiet, understated, but telling, and nod. They reach out, grab their respective dimwit, and walk off. They found this week just as tiring (and lonely) as Axel and Anji did, but they have no intention of telling that to anyone.

-

Anji: Baiken! Did you miss me? I know I sorely needed our daily discussions to keep me sane.

Baiken: Hardly. For the first time in ages I had some peace and fucking quiet.

Anji: *gasp!* You wound me! To think I was so easily replaceable! I should have you know I’m not that easy to get rid of.

Baiken, smirking:...yeah, don’t I know it,

- 

Axl: Boss! Man, that was scary, I knew that samurai was something else but shit, I could barely talk at all! It was nuts! Seriously, that Anji bloke is a bigger man then me, getting that close to her, you think he has to dodge that sword of hers as much as I did? I swear she was damn near twitchy-

Sol:...hmm, yeah, sounds rough.

Axl: You have no idea!...how about you Boss? You and Anji get on alright?

Sol:...eh, had worse, had better.

(You don’t appreciate what makes life worth living until someone changes it, after all) 

[edie-k]

Legally Ginger - Chapter 3 "What, Like It's Hard?"

Title: Legally Ginger Chapter 3: "What Like It's Hard?"

Rating: Teen (I'm sorry Ron and I are equally fond of the f word)

Summary: Based off the movie Legally Blonde. Ron makes the move to Boston but his Harvard career is off to a rough start.

Author Notes: I do want to caveat that not everyone who attends an Ivy League school is a snob so no offense to anyone that did; it’s just a fun romcom stereotype.

Additionally, I felt the need to address that it can be a bit scary for anyone to stalk someone across the country but particularly a man stalking a woman across country is historically problematic. Unfortunately, given it's basically the entire plot of this story, we can't completely avoid it. So remember, this is a fun thing in movies but a red flag in real life.

And yes, I do crib more from the movie on the curriculum. I did not attend law school and can use the help. So I bolded the language that was either verbatim or heavily cribbed from the movie.

Chapter title is a movie quote.

Thank you so much to adnei for all of the beta help and feedback!

I've been so excited to share this chapter with all of you and I think when you get to the end, you'll know why. Let me know what you think!

Link to AO3 or read more below.

“All set then?” asked his dad, closing the back of the old Ford Escape Bill had passed off to him.

“I think that’s all of it,” Ron agreed.

“Well, I’ll go get your mother then to see you off,” Dad said.

The twins and Ginny were standing on the curb, having already loaded the boxes they carried in the vehicle.

“Well, in two days, you’ll be knocking on Astoria’s door to find out if this crazy plan worked.”

Ron laughed. “Not exactly. Hopefully I run into her the first week.”

George’s jaw dropped. “You spent 90k of Muriel’s cash and wasted the best party semester of your life to hope to run into her?”

He hadn’t gone the entire spring semester without seeing Stori. She’d sought him out a few times for a bit of, as she put it, mutual stress relief, but refused to discuss anything further about their relationship. She had bid him a teary goodbye at their commencement ceremony, where he had been evasive about his post graduation plans.

“The point was to be worthy of her, not scare her. Ginny, imagine you get drafted by the Red Stars and suddenly that douche you dated, Corner, is working there as the strength and conditioning coach. You’d be freaked out.”

“It’s a good point,” said Ginny.

“Look, I’ll show up, I’ll get to know everyone, make my connections, and charm the professors. She’ll know I’m there without me ever telling her.”

“You never faded into the background at CULA,” Fred agreed.

“I’ll say hi if I see her but she’ll be knocking on my door by October,” Ron said confidentially.

“Oh yeah?” George’s voice was skeptical.

“You didn’t think I’d make it this far,” pointed out Ron. “It’s… it’s got to work.”

Suddenly, he felt his confidence drop. Was this a stupid plan?

“Best of luck, bro,” said Fred, giving him a one armed hug.

“Regardless of everything… Ron, you got into Harvard. Harvard. Don’t let them take that away from you,” Ginny said fiercely.

“Yeah, yeah, you sound like Mom now,” Ron said, brushing her off before his cheeks could burn. “Where’s she at? I’m burning daylight here.”

“I’m right here,” said his mom, walking out the front door of the ranch home he’d grown up in, holding a cooler. “I have some sandwiches to at least get you through the first day on the road,”

“First hour maybe,” George scoffed.

“Thanks Mom,” he took the cooler and stuck it in the car. When he turned back around, his dad had joined them again.

“Well, this is it,” he said awkwardly.

“Oh… Ginny, go pack a bag and join your brother. We’ll buy you a plane ticket home. Or I can come along,” his mom blurted out, nervously twisting her hands.

“Mom,” Ron groaned.

“Molly, he’ll be okay,” his dad said gently.

“Call me once a day,” Mom said. “Just during the trip,” she added, when Ron started to object.

“Okay,” he agreed. He drew her into a hug.

After he’d said goodbye to each of them, he whistled. “Pig, come on boy!” The pug ran across the yard and allowed Ron to scoop him up and put him in the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver’s seat and swallowed hard. Was this a big mistake?

“We’re so proud of you, son,” his dad said.

“We’ll see you at Christmas?” his mom asked.

Ron didn’t trust his voice so he just nodded and closed the car door. He started the vehicle and with one last wave, he backed out of the driveway.

**********************************************

Five days later, Ron’s alarm was blaring.

“What fucking time is it?” he muttered, slamming the sleep button. In response, Pig grunted and rolled over.

It had been four days of naps and showers at truck stops, coffee, Monster, and fast food but he’d arrived yesterday in order to get a decent night’s sleep before today’s orientation. He, however, had failed to calculate in the three hour time difference that combined with his driving fatigue, was wreaking havoc on his mind and body.

He sighed and went to a still packed box marked “clothes”. He immediately groaned. His khakis were wrinkled as hell. Should have hung them in the bathroom last night when he showered to at least get a little help from the steam.

Luckily, he had a couple dress shirts in the garment bag with his sports coat and two suits. During his brother Percy’s summer visit, he’d used one of Ron’s rare free days to take him shopping. Percy had gotten some advice from a friend of his that attended the University of Chicago on law school attire and had insisted Ron needed at least three suits.

Ron, who was expecting that this whole thing would be wrapped up by spring, balked at the idea but finally agreed to one new suit to go with the one he already owned, a blazer, khakis, and a few polo shirts. He had shirts and tie combos from various formal and semi-formal events, but doubted he’d need much of it. Percy’s friend had said classes were business casual and while his golf shirts were comfortable enough, Ron really hoped that by the second week, everyone was wearing hoodies in class.

He finished getting ready and then grabbed Pig’s leash. “Come on boy,” he prodded the slumbering pug. “If you don’t go now, you’ll be holding it all day.”

They walked the campus, enjoying the morning quiet. While it didn’t give Ron the ease and sense of belonging CULA did, it was an impressive campus. For a moment, he wished he’d taken his mom up on the offer to come out with him - she’d love to see this. He hated the loneliness he felt and was glad to see Pig do his business. Sooner he could get to orientation and meet some people, the better.

********************************

Orientation had been a mix of boring and interesting. He’d slipped in right at the last minute and sat in the back row to ensure he went unnoticed if he were in the same group of students as Astoria. Luckily, he didn’t notice her in the room. While he missed her terribly, he hadn’t come this far to destroy his plans now, and running into her before classes even started was not the plan.

Now they had moved into the social mixer part of the evening, which he was delighted to see that unlike undergrad, law school mixers included booze.

“Uh… you have anything local?” Ron asked the bartender.

“Nothing craft but I do have Dogfish Head,” the bartender said.

“That’ll do,” Ron responded, sticking a dollar in the tip cup. Had Astoria accepted his proposal, maybe he would have pursued the Boston Beer job and he’d have cases of this stuff in their kitchen. The bartender handed him a glass full of his other life and he wandered over to a small group of people, chatting.

“Hi, Ron Weasley,” he said sticking out his hand to the woman on his right.

“Uh, hi,” she said, sounding surprised but not unfriendly. “Lisa Turpin.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Ernie MacMillan,” said a blonde man, standing next to Lisa. Ron shook his hand and then shook the hand of the man next to him who introduced himself as Jack Sloper.

“We were just discussing undergrads,” Ernie said. “Jack and I were both Princeton men, although I took a gap year in Europe so different classes. Lisa here was an Eli. How about you?”

Ron inwardly winced. This guy sounded so pompous. An Eli, really? Anyone who watched a few seasons of Gilmore Girls knew what that was. Ron took a deep breath. “West coast here. I graduated from CULA.”

“That’s a solid state school system,” said Ernie. It wasn’t an insult, but when he said it, somehow it sounded like one.

“Yeah, well, it got the job done,” he said, forcing his friendliest tone.

“What were your undergrad degrees in?” Jack asked the group.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit of a stereotype. Political science for me,” Ernie chuckled.

“Same,” said Lisa. “Although I double majored in French.”

“I was a double major as well. Economics and Spanish,” Jack responded.

“There just wasn’t time for a double major while I was student body president, I’m afraid,” Ernie said. “What about you, Ron?”

“Uh, yeah, just the one major for me. Food science,” he said self-consciously.

“Food science,” Lisa repeated, her tone again not unfriendly but certainly not welcoming. Ron’s whole body stiffened.

“Like cooking?” asked Jack skeptically.

“No, there are a few different concentrations but I was focused on food biochemistry and microbiology,” he explained.

“I think the only micro I’m aware of with food is microwaves or microbrewing,” Jack said, letting out a condescending chuckle.

“Actually, brewing was a big part of my internship last summer. I was at Anheuser-Busch working on their new sustainable brewing initiative,” he said.

“Interesting,” said Lisa. “Ernie, where did you spend your time abroad?”

“I assume you’re interested in whether I spent any time in France, which I can assure you that I did.”

“I hope when you say France, you don’t just mean Paris,” said Jack and Ron was glad to see his condescension focused on someone else.

Ernie laughed loudly in response. “Of course not.”

Ron took a big swig of his beer. This was going to be a long night.

***********************

Ron shifted his backpack as he carefully studied the room numbers next to each door. Everyone else looked so comfortable and confident and he wondered if all of his fellow students had mapped out their routes in advance of the first day of classes.

His eyes were so busy shifting from the left side of the hallway to the right that he failed to notice someone stopped right in front of him until he slammed into them.

“Ooof,” he said. “I’m sor - ”

“Ron?!”

Of course he had just walked right into Astoria.

Astoria stood there, mouth hanging open as she stared at him. Despite the gormless look on her face, she looked absolutely gorgeous with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight curled ponytail, the kind he used to love to pull out at the end of the day. Even though it was just barely September, she was wearing an orange cardigan and he thought about how she obsessively dressed in what she called “the colors of the season”.

“Hey there,” he forced out in what he hoped was a casual tone.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, looking shocked.

“Going to class,” Ron responded. “Don’t want to be late; see you!” He took broad steps around and away from her.

Ron let out a sigh of relief as his classroom was the next one he spotted. He took a deep breath as he walked into the lecture hall for his first class. He spotted a seat near the middle of the room that felt like the right place for the impression he wanted to make.

“Hey,” he greeted the guy next to him. The guy nodded, not even looking up from his laptop. Ron shrugged and pulled his computer out of his bag and powered it up.

While it was sooner than he had hoped, Ron had played it pretty cool with Astoria during their chance meeting. Short and to the point, nothing dumb or embarrassing said. His most successful interaction at Harvard to date.

While he was congratulating himself, a severe looking older woman walked purposefully to the front of the classroom and cleared her throat.

“Welcome to the start of your legal education,” she said. “I’m Professor McGonagall.”

As the professor began to speak about the syllabus, Ron allowed his mind to wander back to Astoria. She hadn’t looked upset or angry to see him, merely surprised. Maybe a bit uncomfortable, which was understandable. She also looked phenomenal. It had been way too long since they had been together and he had almost forgotten how stunning she was.

“Can you tell us about Gordon v. Steele?”

Ron looked up with a start. “Huh?”

Professor McGonagall was standing right in front of him, looking annoyed. “Can you tell us about Gordon v. Steele as it relates to subject matter jurisdiction?”

“Uh…” Ron said, shocked. “It’s the first day of class.”

The classroom was now silently watching him.

“Did you not read the first fifty pages of the assigned text?” McGonagall asked.

“I didn’t realize there was an assignment,” Ron said nervously. He heard a snort behind him and his head whipped around to look at the source.

Professor McGonagall seemed to hear the snort too and shifted her focus. “And you, young man? You could answer my question?”

“Of course,” the smartass snorter said. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair.

Oh, thought Ron. This guy is the worst.

“So would you support my decision to ask this student to remove himself from class until he’s prepared?”

Ron froze.

“Yes Professor,” said the cocky douchebag.

Professor McGonagall motioned to Ron. “Once you’re prepared, you will be welcomed back to class. Until then…”

Ron packed up his laptop, completely stunned. He gave a hard stare at the messy haired jerk, who smirked back at him as he stomped out of the room.

**********************

“You have to be fucking kidding me. Where the fuck does she get the right… and that fucking douchebag,” Ron muttered.

“Excuse me,” a voice rang out from behind him. “That’s more profanity than I care to hear in a week, let alone at 8:30 on a Monday.”

Ron looked up, irritated by the interruption to his own self pity. The reprimand came from a pretty curly haired brunette perched on a neighboring bench, a giant stack of books beside her. Despite her scolding words, she had a hint of a smile. A smile that actually looked friendly.

“Sorry,” he said, ears turning red. “I just… are they always that mean?”

“Mean?”

“Yeah, like, call you out like that. My professors have always liked me all right,” Ron replied, feeling quite embarrassed to explain this to her.

“Yes, they tend to do that. Socratic method,” said the woman.

“Ah,” he responded. He knew the name Socrates thanks to his philosophy major ex, but nothing of the method.

“Were you with McGonagall?”

“Yeah. She kicked me out!”

The brunette made a sympathetic noise.

“She ever kick you out?”

The woman now looked scandalized. “Never! But I had nightmares about her my whole first week. Who else do you have?”

“Uh, Sprout, Slughorn, Umbridge…”

“Umbridge likes when you speak up in class but make sure you always concede to her in the end. Slughorn’s kind of pretentious but if you make good use of your thesaurus for his papers, he’s easy to please.”

“Nice, thanks,” Ron said, nodding his head with a slight smile. She grinned back at him.

“This place is tough; don’t let one setback your first day throw you off,” she urged.

“I’m glad I picked this bench. So what year are - ”

“Ron? Can we talk?” Astoria was standing in front of him, looking a bit nervous.

“If you want,” he said carefully.

“Please,” she said, taking a few steps back. Ron lifted a hand in goodbye to the girl on the bench before approaching Astoria.

“So… you’re at Harvard,” she said nervously, rubbing her right hand over her left.

“I am,” he confirmed.

“And… you got into Harvard,” Astoria said.

“Clearly,” he answered, a bit irritated by her tone. She didn’t really think he was an idiot, did she?

“How was your first class? “

“It could have been better,” Ron admitted.

“That’s because you-you don’t belong here,” Astoria said. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t, but I’m trusting that you’re not here to, like stalk me or hurt me or something. Regardless, this just isn’t something you can do. The people that are going to be successful here… they’re like, bred for this. And it’s not you. I didn’t break up with you to be a bitch. This just isn’t something you’re cut out for.”

“Stori - ” he tried to interrupt.

“And Ron, it costs a fortune to go here! How are you even covering this? I still care about you. Please, just cut your losses now,” she pleaded.

“No way,” said Ron, feeling the fire to prove himself ignite. “Look, my first class was rough but it’s because I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand how all of this works. Now I do. Frankly, that asshole that got me kicked out did me a favor because - ”

“Stori, there you are.” Out of nowhere, the aforementioned asshole from class appeared and slung a possessive arm around Astoria’s shoulder.

“Oh, hi,” she said, biting her lower lip and no longer meeting Ron’s eyes.

“We haven’t properly met although, after that disaster in class, maybe it’s pointless,” chuckled the douchebag.

“Ron, this is Harry Potter… my fiancé.”

Ron clenched his jaw but he knew his ears were reddening in a dead giveaway. “Really?”

“Harry was my high school boyfriend. We reconnected this spring and it just felt… right,” Astoria answered awkwardly.

“Well… congratulations.”

“Thanks buddy,” Harry said, voice dripping in mock sincerity.

“I, uh, I’ve got to go,” Ron said. Summoning every ounce of self control he had, he quickly walked in the direction of his residence hall, Astoria calling after him.