#though it usually means they're fretting about something but don't want to talk about it Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[silent-sentinels]

when Harlowe's/Faucet's/Distance's status is "...": worrying..? when Lookout's status is "...": him's just starin at u with his big ol' eyes :)!!

[aihoshiino]

chapter 134 thoughts!

My immediate first thought going into this chapter and seeing how it picks up from last week's cliffhanger is that while I thought last week that this conflict served as an excellent character beat for both Ruby and Kana, I feel less positively about it as the catalyst for long term RubyKana conflict. Maybe that's hypocritical because I like the similar AquKana conflict back during the LoveNow aftermath and this is basically just a roided up version of that but… IDK, I guess it helped that the AquKana conflict is very clearly a romcom style miscommunication and it ends up leading to one of my all time favourite and funniest character moments for Aqua, this… isn't that. In general I really hate the old tried conflict trope of "Character A betrays or is otherwise cruel to Character B For Their Own Good and refuses to communicate about it" so this was kind of irritating to see…

It also really doesn't help that Kana is going SO above and beyond in being cruel to Ruby here in comparison to the AquKana conflict where her short-sighted lashing out was being mostly played for laughs but still came back to bite her. There's just something a bit excessive in how deliberately and pointedly cold and mean to Ruby Kana is shown being here and I guess it just feels a bit icky to me though I obviously can't make a proper call on all this til we see its conclusion.

I also have to question like… why is everyone around them just letting this happen lol. Memcho not intervening I can at least make sense of because she's been shown to be feeling off her game and a bit out of her element so I could see all that combining to make her uncertain of what to do but… uh, is Miyako not paying any attention? Admittedly the timeframe here is a little vague so we don't know exactly how long this has been going on but it's been happening at least long enough for Ruby to be going to school and fretting about it to her friends. So the idea of Miyako either being unaware of this or not intervening in this is really baffling to me??? Especially off the back of chapters 124 and 126 making a point of how badly Miyako wants to reach out to Aqua and Ruby and support them as their mother - the only way I can justify this to myself is if Miyako somehow doesn't know this was going on but how would she not know??? Like, we see Gotanda and his assistants fretting over Ruby crying after her scenes! If they're well aware something is wrong, why not Miyako? She's Aqua and Ruby's manager! This is a Strawberry Productions produced movie! We've seen her on set before! Is she just… not here now that it would be inconvenient for the plot?

(The answer to that is 'yes')

Uh all that up there does make it sound like I disliked either this or last chapter but I actually really loved them both for reasons we'll get into soon! I think they're both strong individual chapters and as points in RubyKana's shared arc I actually do really like this conflict, what it says about them both and where it seems to be taking them. There are just a lot of small, piled up contrivances pushing this conflict along and I think they annoyed me so much BECAUSE I otherwise think this is some really tasty character work for both girls and I'm otherwise enjoying it.

My bitching aside, I do really like the talk that follows this. I've been revisiting a lot of the earlier material recently via friends re-reading or giving the series a try for the first time so I've been back in that space of Ruby being particularly starstruck with Frill. It's sweet to see their present day dynamic where Ruby is fully comfortable with Frill just as her friend and trusts her enough to share her worries with her.

aw hey minami we thought you were dead

This entire scene really got my brain gears whirring and I can't help but speculate a little about its placement. At first I was just nodding along, thinking this was just Industry Exposition as usual but… isn't this odd? We don't see how Ruby phrases this question so maybe she was vague but from an authorial standpoint, why is Akasaka having Frill talk about love instead of dislike or hostility, which is what is actually going on between Ruby and Kana? Reading over that scene again and again, I can't help but wonder… is this supposed to be taken as some commentary on what's going on between Ruby and Aqua? Is Ruby developing confusedly romantic feelings for him purely because of their 'playing the roles', so to speak, of Sarina and Gorou? After all, the only other similar 'showmances', so to speak, that this could be referring to are AquKana and AquAka, neither of which quite fit the bill, especially when Frill talks about immediately snapping out of those feelings once the show is over — which didn't happen in the least for either pairing. Is this a hint of something to do with Ruby's feelings? Am I reading too much into this??? I mean, I almost definitely am, but I do that every week so…

Hopping over to Kana, the scene between her and Memcho itches my brain less mostly just because it's reiterating things communicated last week. I've said all I'll say about it feeling weird to me that Mem isn't making a move to intervene here but I do like the talk she and Kana have about their human jealousy towards Ruby. Honestly, I have a lot of respect for their being able to push it aside for so long because… honestly, none of what Kana said is wrong!

The second generation of B-Komachi exists for Ruby. Strawberry Productions got back into the idol business entirely so Ruby would have a group to be part of. Kana and Mem were recruited so Ruby would have unitmates to perform with. It doesn't revolve around her to the extent the previous generation did Ai, but in a very real sense Kana is correct when she identifies herself and Memcho as 'extras' for B-Komachi, who exist for Ruby's sake. Not only that but Ruby honestly treated them really badly while she was in black hoshigan mode! Yes, we as readers know what was going on in her head and why but think about how all that probably seemed to Kana and Mem who had no idea: From their POV, what happened was that they broke into mainstream success at last and Ruby immediately left them in the dust, prioritizing her own growth and success in a way that had a very real impact on the fan response the two of them got while they were busting their asses and trying their best to keep B-Komachi going in her absence. I don't think they would be wrong to feel honestly kind of used and hurt!

Obviously this isn't me saying that Ruby is a bad person or that she deserves to have Kana snap at her like that or whatever but… I dunno! It just feels good to have Mem and Kana finally address those feelings and admit to them without it compromising their genuine love and care for Ruby, which is one one of the main ways that the current gen of B-Komachi has surpassed the previous one. Kana especially touches on something I discussed last week in that I think her half of this shared RubyKana arc is going to be about confronting and besting her 'inner Nino', so to speak. Like Nino, she has those same tangled up feelings of admiration and envy, but Kana is capable of confronting them and identifying them. Most importantly, she loves Ruby enough to not let them take her over completely.

ANYWAY FORGET ALL THE REST OF THIS STUFF BECAUSE THIS WAS SECRETLY AN AI POST THIS WHOLE TIME MFS!!!!!!!! oh god this chapter review is already so long and now it's about to get even longer.

Anyone who's read any of my OnK meta before will probably know that I have always stood by one thing that I won't compromise on: Hoshino Ai was just a normal girl. She was a normal girl who suffered abuse and neglect and hated herself as a result, who was exploited by the entertainment industry because she was pretty and vulnerable, who didn't understand people but spent every waking moment of her too-short life reaching out so she could try and love them. The idea of Ai being fundamentally mysterious or unknowable, that the so called 'real Ai' had some horrible dark secret or that the supposedly 'true' Ai really was as horrible as Ai thought herself to be have never resonated with me. The 'real me' that is so horrible that Ai can only speak of her with black stars is nothing more than the flawed, hurting, abused human behind Ai of B-Komachi. I've said this all along and yet there's always been a little part of me worried that Akasaka was going to pull a fast one and betray that idea and rupture the heart of this character I've come to love so much.

To that end — I cannot tell you how insanely fucking cathartic the ending of this chapter was. To have Ruby at last come face to face with her mother as a human being and recognize her for who she really is. That this key final puzzle piece of the real Ai is centered on her pain and her loneliness and her raw humanity, that Ruby describes her as just a normal girl who was always crying and in pain… I genuinely don't have words to say how incredible it felt to finally, FINALLY have someone recognize Ai's suffering. And not just anyone, but one of Ai's children, one of the people she loved more than anything else in the world.

The imagery and framing here is so insanely powerful. Ai taking the place of Ruby's reflection, the look of weary, resigned pain on her face. How small Ai is when Ruby sees her. The barrier of the glass between them; even now in this moment of understanding, the unbreechable barrier of Ai's death keeps Ruby from truly reaching her. It almost feels skeuomorphic in how literal the visualization of this moment of connection and empathy is. Ruby literally sees herself in Ai — she sees Ai in herself. It's pure empathy made as real and tangible as it gets. At long, long last, someone has squinted past the blinding light cast by Ai of B-Komachi and seen Hoshino Ai alone in the shadows where she's been this whole time.

Break next week…! That was to be expected — Jump Festa 2024 will be taking place next weekend and there will be a OnK panel with the seiyuu for Ai, Aqua, Kana and Akane in attendance. We're confirmed to be getting some season 2 news as well, so there's that to look forward to!

[geekthefreakout]

An Empirical Study of Sex and Efforts by A.Z. Fell (Annotations by A. J. Crowley): Part 1

Rating: Mature. If you're underage, I can't stop you from reading this but like... you shouldn't. Please don't interact with me about it.

Sex, as it happened, was nearly as awkward as actually speaking about feelings was, to Crowley's consternated surprise.

He'd thought that once he and Aziraphale had gotten all the blasted talking out of the way AND had saved the Earth a second time, it would all be easy. Tickety-boo, even.

The kissing had been alright- tremendously so, in fact, once they were both actively participating rather than one desperately begging the other not to leave. Also once they'd worked out the angle and force required to avoid painful clashing of teeth. It had seemed to Crowley that sex would follow- this was how most humans did things, and they both tended to enjoy the human experience.

Only- neither of them quite knew what to do. Aziraphale had thought that Crowley would have experience, what with being a demon and all. Only Crowley'd never been given to *that* sort of temptation. Meanwhile, Crowley had assumed Aziraphale would know what to do. Between the two of them, he was the hedonist, and what the heaven had he been doing in all those "gentleman's clubs" if not this??

(This line of inquiry had led to a long explanation of the history of the gavotte, interspersed with cheerful exclamations of "Never assume, dear! It makes an ass out of you and me!" Crowley had screamed venom into Aziraphale's favorite throw pillow in despair.)

Even so, Crowley had been certain they could figure it out. Aziraphale had shelves of books on the subject, and Crowley, though he lacked personal experience, certainly knew what "sexy" was. Or at the very least, he knew what it wasn't.

Sexy wasn't, he decided, standing buck naked in the cool air of Aziraphale's seldom-used bedroom, staring at themselves in the mirror while debating what sort of Effort they should make. But here they were.

"The trouble is, I'm not sure what I would like best." Aziraphale was saying thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "Anything you choose to manifest, my dear, will be lovely. But there are so many possibilities! So much variety! How does one decide?"

"Humans are usually stuck with the Effort they're born with." Crowley offered, having thrown himself dramatically onto the bed once he realized Aziraphale wasn't going to just pick something without proper discourse.

"Not all of them, though." Aziraphale fretted. "Nowadays they can switch with a surgery to what suits them better. And they enhance what they do have! I've received several emails offering to lengthen my--"

"Don't click on those, angel." Crowley groaned. He had invented the "grow your penis" spam email back in the 90s, and thought himself quite clever for it. "It's all rubbish."

"Well, even so. There are shapes which are more desirable. Combinations that work better. Variety in depth, length, hair, texture, function...." Aziraphale's hands went to his hips as he narrowed his eyes at the reflection of his shapeless groin. "I want to do this right."

"'M not sure there is a right way." Crowley said after a moment. "It's all down to preference, isn't it? Like how you take your tea."

"Perhaps there is not a right way, but there is surely a wrong way. Any way that could hurt you would be wrong." The angel's brow furrowed, and Crowley could tell that he was becoming genuinely frustrated.

"You won't hurt me, angel." Crowley assured, sitting up on the bed. He reached out a hand, and Aziraphale allowed him to take one of his and draw him close. "And I won't hurt you."

"I know you won't, dearest. I just... oh, I just want this to be perfect." Aziraphale sat next to Crowley on the bed now, holding both of his hands. "I have hurt you without meaning to so many times. Now that we have this, I mean to treat it with nothing but the highest regard."

Crowley had to kiss him for that. He let his hands run through his angels feathery curls as he drew him close and kissed him, softly, softly. He drank Aziraphale in the way he drank the finest of wines, caressed his face and shoulders reverently. He let the love he felt for his angel, which he had so often kept boxed away, flow from him freely, and he received Aziraphale's love in turn.

"We've hurt each other." He said softly when they finally broke apart. "But not anymore, yeah? We're just here, being an us."

"Just us," Aziraphale said, pressing his forehead to Crowley's. "And we need to decide how to present for our first time together. First times are important, you know."

"Fine." Crowley sighed. "Look, why don't we just... try all of it? We can each have a turn with each effort. We can even have both, if you like!"

"But our first--"

"Bollocks to 'first'." Crowley said. "Why should our first time mean more than our second or third? You're still playing by the rules, angel. We have as many times as we like. We have time to figure it out."

Aziraphale twisted his lips in one way, then another, clearly stopping himself from arguing about the romance of it all. Finally, he tilted his head, conceding.

"Very well." He hopped up from the bed, oblivious to Crowley leaning in to kiss him again. "We might as well make a proper study of it."

"Study???" Crowley's serpentine eyes widened as Aziraphale made his way to his desk, pulling out a large piece of paper and a marker. "Oh, come on...."

But it was no use- Aziraphale was busily drawing a chart with the marker, his bare bum wiggling as he hummed through his work.

Crowley eventually came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his angel's beloved waist even as he rolled his eyes at the chart he'd drawn up.

"I suppose you're serious about this." Crowley mumbled, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's pale shoulder.

"You think I'm being silly," Aziraphale pouted.

"You are. But... love when you're silly." Crowley hid his burning cheeks in Aziraphale's neck. "Least you're not listing positions out..."

"Oh, but I could!" Aziraphale said cheerfully. "I'm certain I have a copy of the Kama Sutra in the original Sanskrit- not signed by the author, but still quite original--"

Crowley groaned and squeezed his arms tighter around Aziraphale. The angel turned his head to kiss Crowley's temple.

"Perhaps another time?"

"Hngk." Crowley muttered, intent on kissing the idea out of Aziraphale's head. "I want a cunt first." Crowley declared against his angel's lips, and manifested one with a thought as Aziraphale turned to embrace him fully.

"You-- oh!" Aziraphale flushed as he found himself staring at the mound that had appeared between the demon's legs, the red scales on Crowley's belly giving way to wiry red curls. All thoughts of charts and positions flew from his mind. "I knew you'd be lovely."

"Shut up." Crowley hissed, his hands tight on Aziraphale's shoulders as the angel dipped curious fingers into the folds. "We've got a study to do. Data to gather."

"Quite right, too." Aziraphale said, and kissed him again.

[simply-ivanka]

Mainstream Media's "Bloodbath"!

Speaking to an Ohio crowd about predatory Chinese trade practices, Trump said:

Let me tell you something: To China, if you're listening, President Xi — and you and I are friends — but he understands the way I deal. Those big monster car manufacturing plants that you're building in Mexico right now ... you're going to not hire Americans, and you're going to sell the cars to us, no. We're going to put a 100% tariff on every single car that comes across the line, and you're not going to be able to sell those cars if I get elected. Now, if I don't get elected, it's going to be a bloodbath for the whole — that's gonna be the least of it. It's going to be a bloodbath for the country. That will be the least of it. But they're not going to sell those cars.

His point is dead simple: Unless Trump is elected to stop it, American carmakers are going to suffer as a result of Chinese practices and Biden's failures.

Yet, as predictably as the sun rising in the east, Democrats and their Leftmedia propagandists seized on the word "bloodbath" to pretend that, if Trump loses the November election, he'll incite violence. It's part of a concerted strategy to keep January 6 at the forefront, even though the only real bloodshed that day was that of Ashley Babbitt at the hands of a Capitol Police officer.

"It's clear this guy wants another January 6," tweeted Joe Biden's social media people with a strategically truncated video of Trump's comments.

"He's even predicting a 'bloodbath,'" asserted Nancy Pelosi. "What does that mean? He's going to exact a bloodbath?"

"He was talking about a bloodbath," huffed MSBNC's Joe Scarborough. "Sometimes a bloodbath means a bloodbath."

"Trump Says Some Migrants Are 'Not People' and Predicts a 'Blood Bath' if He Loses," headlined The New York Times.

An NBC News headline blared, "Trump says there will be a 'bloodbath' if he loses the election."

Leftmedia talkingheads fretted over the return of 1930s German fascism and genocide. NBC News presidential historian Michael Beschloss said, "That's how fascism and totalitarianism and — in Germany's case — the Holocaust came to Germany, which had been a country where there were big institutions of democracy until, as you well know, the early 1930s." (Germany was primarily a monarchy until 1918, but whatever.)

Likewise, Politico's Michael Kruse wrote a lengthy article about how Trump's humor is essentially the same as Adolf Hitler: "Trump is not Hitler or Stalin or Mussolini. But they share a rhetorical style, experts say."

You get the idea.

"The word 'bloodbath' is used in common parlance all the time," noted veteran journalist Brit Hume, "and it doesn't necessarily refer to an actual shedding of blood. It refers to some major upheaval, damage being done, and the rest of it."

And you know something? Before Trump used the word, journalists understood that. They also used the word. A lot.

It's almost like their indignation now is phony.

Leftists and even some on the Right who hate Donald Trump with every fiber of their being really don't like the way Trump says things. Frankly, he is often unnecessarily uncouth, angry, visceral, and so forth. He behaves like, well, a Democrat.

Yet the things he says rightly and intentionally resonate with average Americans who are justifiably outraged at the rigged game Washington has foisted on us. Trump knows exactly what he's saying and why, and it works. He connects.

Trump posted his rebuttal on Truth Social: "The Fake News Media, and their Democrat Partners in the destruction of our Nation, pretended to be shocked at my use of the word BLOODBATH, even though they fully understood that I was simply referring to imports allowed by Crooked Joe Biden, which are killing the automobile industry."

"Missing context" is usually the "fact-checker" catch-all, but they're more than happy to let this one go. In fact, The Washington Post even offered "analysis" yesterday that the "broader context" is that "Trump has already warned of 'riots,' 'violence in the streets' and 'death & destruction' if he's wronged."

You want context? Those are things Democrat constituents actually do in America's cities.

"Many MAGA Republicans are saying Trump's 'bloodbath' comment should be put in context," the Biden-Harris HQ X account posted. "So we put it in context."

That context included not only January 6 but the BIG lie about Trump's "very fine people" comment about Charlottesville — the lie that supposedly motivated Biden to run in the first place.

As usual, political analyst David Harsanyi cuts to the chase: "You don't need to be a fan of Donald Trump to concede that this weekend's meltdown over the word 'bloodbath' was cynical and dishonest." Indeed, these contrived frenzies serve a dual purpose — to drive media ratings and to motivate suburban women to vote against the meanie with the red hat.

Yes, Trump was using hyperbole. "Politicians always catastrophize events," Harsanyi observed. Democrats are doing it now to rile up their own base.

On a final note, in case you think we were just throwing shade at Trump for behaving like a Democrat, here's a two-minute compilation of Democrats using violent language to express their contempt for a guy who forces them to look in the mirror.

[obitv]

thanks for 200 followers! have this :3

during the timeskip, william and vyncent decide to go dancing.

read on ao3 here!

You really need to learn to think before you speak. Like, now. Yesterday, even! Any point that was before right fucking now!

Inviting Vyncent to hang out outside the base? Sure, normal. You've been staying in the rubble of the old base for a few weeks now and it's still... unsettling. And you live together, of course hanging out is normal! Trying to experience normal teenage things now that you two have some downtime? Yes, sure! Normal!

Asking Vyncent if he wants to go clubbing? NOT. NORMAL.

He asks you to explain yourself. Of course. Because you really had to put your foot in your mouth there.

"It's, uh- A nightclub? A bunch of people our age go there to... dance? And there's music and drinks? It's- You don't have to go, I was just throwing it out there, ha,  mean I've never even gone-"

"Cool. Sounds fun! When do we go?"

Oh, you're so fucked.

--

You find a nightclub. Or- Less find, more remember - totally not because you'd fantasised about this for days or anything, but because after Harlem brought you to one you went find which club he had been in, and subsequently memorise any other places you could possibly go, if you ever wanted to. Just to avoid him.

The infinitely worse part is when you spend far too long fretting about outfits. You spare a brief thought to wish you could talk to your old friends right now, but you manage to scrounge up something.. nicer than your usual. Tight ripped jeans you pretend you didn't steal from Ashe, indie band tee from some show you went to when you were 14, a worn dark leather jacket. And- Eyeliner. A little. You also pretend you don't remember much from Ashe's rambles about makeup, but that advice stuck with you.

You do not tell Vyncent about the unofficial dress code, and yet he picks up on it anyway. Probably keyed in when you started scrabbling through the rubble to pull that jacket out of what remains of your closet.

"Will? Do I need to.. dress differently?"

You will your voice not to squeak miserably. You fail. "N-o..? You- I'm sure how you usually dress is ok, y'know, they don't REALLY have a dress code? You- you'll be fine. Probably. Uh- Definitely. Totally... fine."

"There's a DRESS CODE?"

Which is how you end up standing next to a shirtless Vyncent Sol with a pile of clothes in front of you. If you had told the you from 6 months ago about this, he probably would've passed out on the spot. You aren't doing much better yourself.

You're trying very hard not to ask why, exactly, Vyncent owns low rise jeans. You're trying in general not to acknowledge that at all, actually, which is thankfully made slightly easier as Vyncent put those on BEFORE coming to ask you what to wear, so you didn't have to give any input on them. It's not like they're excessively tight or anything, just- He's not wearing a shirt. And Vynce may not be packed with muscle like Dakota but he isn't as stick thin as you and- You have eyes, ok!

But you are using those eyes for a much more acceptable task - helping Vyncent pick a shirt. So that he stops being all... That. You've narrowed the pile down to just two options before your brain melts and you tell him that "both- both of those are fine!" while mentally patting yourself on the back for almost making a full sentence after that whole ordeal.

You head outside before you can make a bigger fool of yourself, climbing through the rubble of the entrance and letting the cool evening air refresh your brain while you still can. Winter is quickly settling into the city, and you definitely aren't wearing enough layers to be out right now. You hope the walk can warm you up.

Vyncent comes up next to you right when you start having to fight back shivers. Bastard never even notices the cold, something about being used to higher altitudes. That's... something you should ask more about, probably. Not tonight though. Tonight is not a night for potentially emotional conversations.

Aside from your wandering thoughts, the walk is nice. The chill clears a bit with exercise and good company, and your jitters. Vyncent seems excited, thankfully, even if he's definitely out of his comfort zone. But so are you! Which makes this... maybe count as a bonding experience. If all goes to shit you can share the misery, and if things go well... Well. You can always hope.

You end up in a part of town that's still bustling even this late in the evening. Music and conversations blend together into one, filling the air. There's even colourful lights strung up between the buildings, almost making up for the lack of stars. Vyncent is looking all around at them - and you realise for all you guys went out together before, none of your patrols or explorations had taken him to this part of the city before, at least not after dark. You give yourself a moment to admire him - the lights here probably wash you out, but the faint colours reflect off his eyes and almost make them sparkle.

Before he notices you, you grab his arm and gesture to one of the open doorways nearby. A neon sign reading FERDINAND'S flashes above it, and together you walk over.

The music hits you as soon as you get near the door, a pulsing wave of bass from the speakers, and you spare a moment to turn back to where Vyncent is trailing behind you, still faintly starstruck.

"Hey, Vynce. You- just let me know if you wanna leave, ok? If it sucks we can just go home and watch a movie."

His gaze snaps to you, and he takes a breath. Straightens his posture a bit, like he's preparing to go into a fight, which you try not be amused by. He shakes his arm out of your loose grip and smiles at you. "Yeah, yeah. I still wanna check it out though!"

So in you go.

-

Clubbing... isn't something you have much experience with. You'd planned to go out, before, but you left Deadwood too early to really go anywhere. And the time with Harlem scared you out of trying to go anywhere while he could be around, so really your experience is limited to, uh. Next to nothing? So sue you for not knowing what to expect.

It's loud, for one. Obviously, but it's not loud in a bad way, just in a way that lets you feel the beat all the way in your bones, in a way that leaves little room for thought other than the beat. It's much warmer in here, though still not as crowded as you'd feared. Come to think of it, you're not sure what day of the week it is? But it's clearly not peak. The bar is crowded, sure, but it's barely two people deep at worst, and there's even free seats.

You hesitate to leave Vyncent, but when you gesture at a booth and then at the bar he seems to get the idea. He heads to get a table, and you go to grab yourself the drink you're definitely going to need to keep your head around here. You don't plan on drinking much, if any more than just one, but a little liquid courage feels like it'd be nice right around now. You order your beer, look back at Vynce, and order a second in case he wants it. You probably should've asked before he left.

You get them quickly though, and weave your way across the floor to reach him. He's still staring at everything, and it almost makes you wonder how the fuck you two had gotten past the bouncer. He takes one of the bottles out of your hands, but scrunches his nose up after sniffing it and puts it down on the table closer to you. That answers that, then.

Overall, it's a nice club. More of a pub on this level than a nightclub, really, but you know there's a proper dance floor around somewhere. The music is good, too, nothing too overplayed, and a fair bit you've never even heard before.

"I thought you said there'd be dancing?"

It's almost hard to hear him over the music, but you have to admit it's true. You brace yourself, throwing back the last of your drink, and stand up.

"C'mon! It's, uh, over this way, I think?" Fucking Vyncent and his elf hearing doesn't have any trouble with hearing you over the noise, getting up and walking with you before you resorted to getting really close for him to hear you.

Whatever. The dance floor is downstairs from the main bar, and- Wow. There's definitely more people down here, but still blessedly not packed. You hadn't considered that- well- There'd be other people here.

Vyncent, though, perks up. He was a pretty good dancer back at the party you won't ever talk about, now that you think about it. It's definitely a similar vibe, just less possessed highschoolers and more drunk college students. He's much less reserved than you, immediately heading to join the dancers while you hang back and watch.

The music is different down here, but still not bad. There's multicoloured lights shining all over the main floor, catching on people's hair, clothes, eyes, and Vyncent is... fucking stunning. He's in a league of his own out there. Going from partner to partner and somehow, he's just as amazing as he is in combat. You had assumed most of his skill had come from the whole possession deal back at the party, but this is actually him choosing. No tangos on this floor, but that doesn't put a dampener on him at all.

There's a break in the music, eventually. Vyncent comes back to where you're lurking, panting but smiling. He's gorgeous. Someone's body glitter has rubbed off on him, somehow, and the cascade of lights makes him glow. You haven't seen him this- happy, since before everyone left.

It's a.. scary thought. You want him to be able to be this happy forever, and in this moment you'd do anything he asked if he kept smiling at you like that. So, of course, when he holds his hand out to you and asks you to dance, you say yes.

Seriously. Think before you say things, Wisp! But Vyncent's hand is warm in yours, and you're just buzzed enough to not feel like hundreds of eyes are pinned to your every move, and the music is shaking your bones with every beat. To be fair, you've wanted this for... far longer than you'd like to admit.

You faintly recognise whatever song is playing. It's fast, and is probably going to be burned into your brain forever, because you are dancing with Vyncent fucking Sol.

[this is where i'll be, so heavenly, so come and dance with me, michael]

He drops your hand once you're properly in the crowd, which is a shame, but he starts dancing and you try to mimic him and others around you. It's easier than you'd thought, to not worry about the other people around you. Whenever you'd pictured something like this, you'd underestimated how it'd feel to really be here, with Vyncent watching you and laughing, seemingly carefree.

You think he's never looked more beautiful than he does right now. You desperately want to tell him, so, so desperately, but instead you let yourself laugh with him, moving closer to the beat. You're moving in an imitation of some formal dance, a back and forth just between yourselves. It's impossible to stop smiling at him now that you've started, and maybe you're happier than you've been in a long time too.

It's- a bit of a blur, after that. There are times where Vyncent reaches a hand out to you and you dance together like that, a raver's waltz. He spins you a few times, and you're breathless with laughter after each one. You step out for a break, and Vyncent goes between various partners - but for once you don't feel that stab of jealousy, because his eyes keep darting back to you and he smiles wider each time. At some point, both of you end up mostly standing still in the middle of it all, giddy with infectious joy, with you leaning against his chest and his hand on your shoulder.

You look up at him then, and your faces are so, so close- in a crowded room, where anyone could bump into you... The temptation to just lean up and kiss him is almost unbearable. You could always brush it off as an accident if you had to - or you'd finally have something you've wanted for months. it's tantalising, having that choice dangled in front of you.

Before you can really do more than begin to lean in, though, Vyncent's eyes flicker away from your face and to the door. You'd almost missed it, because you were definitely paying more attention to his lips than his eyes, and you look away, guilt starting to eat into you.

He says something then, but your hearing's gone to shit right now so he gives up and untangles himself from you. He points at the door, then tilts his head at you in a clear question. We leaving now?

You... can't believe you almost did that. You nod at him, struck dumb by your thoughts. Outside, the sudden lack of noise feels almost like a physical weight being lifted, while the freezing temperature is like a slap in the face. You stumble forward into Vyncent, and he steadies you while you shiver and try calling a cab, because no fucking way are you walking home like this.

Home, ha. You know full well that Vyncent is more your home now than any building could be. Even if you keep almost fucking things up - the thought of not having him there is almost too much to bare.

But, for now, you have him. His arm around your shoulders again, trying to keep you warm while you wait for your cab, and the knowledge that when you wake up in the morning, he'll still be there. Neither of you are going anywhere.

[sorryiapologized]

I'm starting a blog. So I've hit rock bottom.

I used to think Blogs were only for desperate mothers and that one dog from the Disney Channel show (RIP). Now, I've realized that I fit into some third category: 20-somethings who want to feel some sort of connection with internet strangers. Do I seek validation? Idk maybe. Maybe I'm just lonely. Or maybe I'm having one of the worst days in my adult life.

I've also decided to do this because I am a special type of mentally ill. I have (undiagnosed) ADHD and a custom blend of Anxiety and Depression. This means that I need to be around others to be held accountable to do virtually anything. My therapist says journaling will help, but I need an audience to listen to my woes. If I'm not writing for someone else, what's the point, right?

So, here's how my day went.

My person is sick. They stayed home from work today. And I woke up to a blizzard. In Seattle. It was already a bad omen. I spent the morning trying to take care of them, as well as our two dogs and cat, let the maintenance dudes in and out and in and out of my apartment because they had to fix this giant hole (NO this is not a porn blog, get your mind out of the gutter, dear reader) and on top of all that I had my weekly Wednesday meeting that takes 25 minutes longer than it should.

On the off chance my person has COVID, I told my boss I would not make it into the office today. I work remotely and only go in once a week for a few hours to make promotional tik toks because apparently nobody over the age of 25 knows what's cool anymore. (I probably don't either, because I'm making a blog.) My boss told me I needed to come in so they could talk to me. That didn't sit right with me.

For the next two hours I fretted over what it could be they needed to talk about. Then I did this stupid journaling thing my therapist said. I wrote down all my anxieties and then picked apart what was real and what my brain was jumping to.

Here's what I came up with:

Real: I am a good writer.

Real: I am invaluable to the paper I work for.

Real: I am the only one who knows how to effectively use tiktok.

Anxiety: They would want to fire me because sometimes I misuse punctuation and have trouble spelling.

Well, it turns out anxiety won over today. I got to work and they immediately told me to take a walk outside with them. It was snowing. I was in a cropped sweatshirt. They then lit up a cigarette. Blowing smoke into my face, they bluntly told me that if it weren't for the 70 year old ad manager who can't use a computer I would be the weakest link at our newspaper. Our copy editor hates me because I use too many run-on sentences. They said for someone with degrees in both English and Political Science I make a lot of dumb mistakes, like this week when I thought the author of Anne of Green Gables was "Ellen Montgomery." They said if I don't improve very quickly, I might get fired.

And then I went back inside and pretended to work for another hour like a moron.

I walked home in the snow, shivering my bellybutton off because not only do I not know how to use commas but I also don't know how to wear a coat. I huddled up next to my person, who looks more like a zombie than the adorable little monkey they usually are. They had a 101 degree fever so I told them to take another COVID test. It was positive. Who is still getting COVID in 2023?? At least they didn't start a blog. That would be even more embarrassing.

I was supposed to go to a birthday party tonight, for friends I had already canceled plans with three times. At this point I'm worried it looks like I'm trying not to hang out with them, even though they're the coolest people I know. So, instead of partying and getting high with my favorite local comedians on a rooftop, I ordered takeout and sat on my couch alone, trying not to cry.

If you're still with me, dear reader, I will treat you to an excerpt from my diary:

I was supposed to go to Stephanie's party. Instead, I am sitting on the couch trying not to cry into a takeout burrito while I binge a whole mini-series about the FLDS Cult to try and feel a little bit better about my life. And I can't even cuddle with my person because they're locked in isolation in our bedroom.

Sleeping on the couch, questioning my future, and basking in loneliness? This must be what 45 year old men in a midlife crisis feel like. Fuck, I'm even getting into religion with this show.

So, there I have it, the lowest point in my life since I graduated college, moved to Seattle, and got what I thought would only be a temporary job. A job that I very well might get fired from. Maybe the real reason I've decided to start this blog is to prove to myself that I am a good writer after all. Even if I do spell a few words wrong here and their.

Also, Oliver, my cat, is throwing a tantrum because he is stuck in the living room with me until his other parent gets over COVID. He is not happy. I wonder if he'll try to eat me in my sleep?

[rocksandrobots]

Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 5 - Best friends, Boyfriends, and Barons Part 1

"Hey Miss Itamae! Ready for a whole new school year? Hee...hee...eeeh.... yeah, fine." Hiro gave up trying to make small talk with the lunch lady as she unceremoniously slopped meatloaf onto his plate.

Today was the first day of the fall semester and the start of Hiro's second year at SFIT.  It felt odd to him, to look back and realize just how much time had passed; how much things had changed during the previous year.

A year ago, today, he had been attending Tadashi's funeral and now he was going about his life as if everything was normal. Well, almost normal. He was also moonlighting as a superhero, adopting an out of time teenager as his new big brother, and befriending deadly robots.

Life was weird.

Of course it wasn't as if he could ignore his loss completely. He had noticed the flowers and cards placed at the foot of Tadashi's memorial over by the exhibition hall. People still remembered that his brother had died a hero. Folks that he didn't even know had left their condolences today, though most of the gifts were from Tadashi's teachers and friends.

Hiro had particularly noticed a painting Honey Lemon had left, of her, Tadashi, and the rest of their friends. He also spotted Gogo sitting out there early that morning, lighting a candle in his brother's memory. He had given her her space, choosing not to interrupt. Gogo and Tadashi had been especially close.

Hiro remembered how excited his brother had been when Gogo finally agreed to go out with him. Tadashi had hurried about their bedroom, a couple of days before the fire, fretting over where to take her on their first date. A date that they had never gotten to go on. At the time Hiro had teased him relentlessly, never passing up the chance to deflate his brother's ego. Now it was just another bittersweet memory to look back on.

Fred abruptly snapped him out of his mournful reflection. "Steve." was all he said as he grabbed Hiro by the shoulders.

"Steve? Uh, my name is Hiro, remember Fred?"

"No, no, no, Steve was the name of the ninja robot that Trina found. She said he was held in a warehouse downtown, along with all the other ninjas. Don't you see, that's our big break! We find this warehouse and then we can track down the mysterious bosu!"

Hiro wearily placed his tray down on the table and took a seat next to Wasabi.

"Fred, it's the first day of school. Can't this wait for later?"

"But-"

"Hiro's right Fred," Wasabi interrupted, "Just because you have all the time in the world to play superhero doesn't mean that we do. We still got our own lives to take care of."

Fred looked hurt at that. "I'm not playing! This is important work. We have a city to protect and this crime boss is just going to keep coming after us if we don't figure out how to stop them."  

Wasabi rolled his eyes. "Then you just go on and do that. In the meantime the rest of us have class to attend. I'm heading early to set up for my first lab."

"But labs won't open for like another hour." Hiro pointed out, confused. "They're still cleaning up from the robot attacks last week."

"Ah, he just wants to get there early so that he can see his boyfriend again." Fred complained.

"Sam's not my boyfriend. He's just a colleague, and at least I'm doing something other than obsess over superheroing." And with that Wasabi stormed off, while Fred slouched into the cafeteria chair with a huff.

"Listen, Fred, why don't you go on patrol with Minimax for a while. I'll help you track down this warehouse after school is over with." Hiro said.

"Okay," Fred reluctantly agreed, "but I'm not 'obsessing'."

"I know Fred, but the rest of us also have school to worry about. We just don't have the same amount of free time as you do."

"I know." Fred sighed before walking off.

                                                ---------------------------

"Sorry Hiro, but we're kind of busy right now." Honey Lemon regretfully informed her friends.

Fred and Hiro had met up after school as promised. Wasabi had declined to join them on their quest and so they had decided to recruit the girls instead. Though this also seemed to be a fruitless endeavor.

"Yeah, we're kind of in the middle of something." Gogo finished as she leaned back in a reclining chair and placed two cucumber slices over her eyes.

They had found the girls at a spa. Honey Lemon sat next to Gogo with curlers in her hair, and they apparently weren't the only ones out having a beauty day.

"Can't you see we're having some girl time?" Karmi asked, annoyed, as she examined her nails.

"Yeah, Hiro, go take your weird superhero hobby elsewhere?" Megan added.

"It's not weird!" Fred insisted.

"If this is supposed to be a girls only event, then why is he here?" Hiro said, pointing to Varian, who sat next to Megan.

"Uh, getting a manicure obviously." Varian rolled his eyes and then leaned over to show Carol, who was beside him, two bottles of nail polish. "Do you think I should go with the midnight blue or just stick with black?"

"Hmmm... I think either would be nice," she replied.

"Ooooh, have you tried the seaweed wrap they have here? It's great." Fred chimed in.

Hiro rolled his eyes, "Okay, so what are you two doing after this? Could you take up patrol tonight?"

"Nope." Gogo said.

"I promised my brother Carlos that I would help him move into his new dorm room. He starts at UCLA this week and Gogo's offered to drive me there. We won't be back till tomorrow morning." Honey Lemon explained.

"Okay, well, we'll just-"

"Alright, I'm ready." A voice called out, interrupting him.

Trina walked out from behind a door at the back of the spa. Her bulky gigantic metal body was gone and in its place was the frame of a young woman, dressed in a t-shirt, pants, and a cropped jacket. She looked very much the same as the day Hiro had first met her, at the bot fights. Only this time her hair had been cut and styled into a short mohawk and dyed a light purple.

"What do you guys think?" She asked as she twirled around.

Everyone shouted encouragements to her, and Varian cheekily whistled.

"You look nice, Trina." Hiro complimented.

Trina snorted and rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Hiro." She said, leaving the teenage genius confused by what he had said wrong.

Ignoring him, Trina walked over to the rest of the girls, "Thanks for the clothes... and for everything else." She sheepishly added.

"Hey, no problem." Megan replied. "They look good on you."

"Yeah, and if you need anything else just ask." Karmi added.

"Not to mention it's always fun to have a spa day," Carol piped in. "This was a good idea Varian, thanks for inviting me along."

"Sure thing. When Trina said she wanted help with finding a new wardrobe, I figured all of you would like to go shopping too.... and also y'all know more about clothes than I do."

"Hey, Trina," Fred interjected, "that warehouse where you foun- I mean, met 'Steve', do you happen to remember where it was located?"

Trina gave Fred a frown.

"Oooh, who's Steve?" Karmi asked, happy to gossip, "Is that your boyfriend Trina?"

"No." She said, "The place you're looking for is over in Good Luck Alley, next to Louie's."

"It must've been a bad breakup." Karmi whispered into Honey Lemon's ear, she wasn't very good at keeping her voice down.

"Yeah… he kind of... broke alright." Honey Lemon nervously added, unsure what to say.

"Uh, yeah, well thanks for the tip Trina. We'll be going now, bye." Hiro said as he hurried Fred out the door. He had had enough of awkward conversations and makeovers.

                                               ---------------------------

"Fred, wouldn't it be better if we brought our robots along at least?" Hiro whispered.

"You want to sneak around an abandoned warehouse with those two?" Fred whispered back, "I love him, but Minimax doesn't know how to be quiet, like at all."

Hiro sighed, Fred had a point. Baymax also wasn't the best at stealth missions. Hiro slid into the alleyway and peered through a dirty window. He couldn't shake the sense of deja vu as he remembered how he and the robotic nurse had tracked down his missing microbots a year ago at a similar warehouse. They had both been nearly killed by Callaghan when the villain had caught them snooping around. He would prefer to avoid such a scenario again.

"It doesn't look like anyone is here." He said.

"See any ninja robots?" Fred asked as he also pushed by to get a look, pressing his nose against the glass.

"No… Fred, this may be a dead end. Trina already raided the place and no doubt this Bosu would have abandoned the hideout if it was compromised."

Fred pouted, "Maybe… Buuuut, we could always man a stake-out and find out for sure!"

"Fred, I have homework to do. Maybe some oth-"

"Oh please! Just for an hour, or two? Please, please, please? Pretty please? I'll do your homework for you."

"I don't want you doing my homework."

"Okay, chores then; I'll wash Varian's dirty socks and underwear for a… a week… no, a month! Come on, I know how much you hate doing laundry."

Hiro sighed and watched his friend crawl on his knees and beg. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yeeeesss."

"Okay, and no, you don't have to do the laundry either."

Hiro turned to walk out of the alley and Fred got up and followed him.

"That's good, cause I don't actually know how to wash clothes. Usually, Heathcliff does all the laundry. Last time I tried to, I just flooded the washroom."

"Do you have any survival skills? Like at all?"

"Nope. Unless it's kicking bad guys' butts! Ooh, hey, we can host the stake-out at Louie's across the street. I'm starved."

                                               ---------------------------

Hiro and Fred took up a window booth inside the restaurant. The establishment had recovered from the police raid from a few months back and was now serving food as usual; though Hiro had already spotted the advertisement for the next upcoming 'bot fight.

A couple of hours past and they had both eaten their meals, plus dessert, along with Fred going back for seconds. Now they were both nursing a couple of cups of coffee, though Hiro's was going cold; it wasn't great coffee.

"Fred…"

"Yeah."

"It's been three hours now."

"I know."

"No one's showed up."

"Not yet."

"Look it's been… 'fun', but I'm going home now."

Hiro got up to leave but Fred grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Oh but… uhh… we haven't even tried the uh… hot dog sushi special. I hear it's really good."

Hiro leaned his head back slowly and closed his eyes in frustration. He didn't want to snap at Fred, really he didn't, but he was quickly losing his patience.

"Fred… no one is coming. Let's just call it a night and try again some other time. Okay." And with that he yanked his hand away and began to walk off.

Fred didn't follow. Instead he sat in the booth, his eyes downcast, staring blankly at nothing. It wasn't his usual pout either. It was something else. Some deeper sadness that few saw from the usually optimistic teen.

Hiro began to worry. He walked back, and stood there waiting for Fred to jump back up all excited again for his return, only he didn't.

"Fred, what's wrong?"

Fred sighed but couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Look, I know that this superhero business is important to you, so much so that you'll probably wind up making a career out of it, which is great, but the rest of us are not going to be doing this for the rest of our lives. We also have to keep up with our studies, chores, our jobs, and what little shred of a social life we have."

"That's not it… I mean yeah, it's a part of it, but that's not why I asked you to come along."

Fred finally looked Hiro in the eye and tears threatened to spill.

"I just miss my best friend, okay."

Hiro looked at him confused.

"I didn't want to say anything, cause… cause he's your brother and I didn't think you'd want to be reminded about him being gone any more than you already have… but today has just been really hard… remembering what happened… I just thought getting out and doing something fun, getting both our minds off everything, might be better than just… just being alone. You know? Especially today."

Fred didn't even have to say Tadashi's name for Hiro to know who he was talking about.

Hiro sighed and slumped back down into the booth.

"I'm sorry…. I… I guess I just… I don't know. I didn't think...."

"No… no, don't. Of course you didn't think. I mean who wants to be reminded of that. The whole idea was to not think about it. And I just ruined it all by bringing it up. Gah…. I'm so sorry."

Fred put his arms over his head and brought his knees up to his chest as if trying to make himself as physically small as he felt. Hiro just had to laugh at the sight in spite of himself.

"It's okay Fred. You're not going to upset me just by talking about Tadashi."

Fred peaked his head out from between his arms. "I'm not?"

"No. I mean he was your friend too."

"My best friend! Man, Tadashi and I, we got up to all sorts of trouble. He was always down for anything. I mean, did he tell you about the time we crashed my cousin's bar mitzvah? As in, we literally crashed. He drove the sport's car into the buffet table by mistake… We couldn't find the parking and then there was this wet patch in the parking lot and we skidded… Oh and then there was the time Mole dared us to a drag race using scooters and Tadshi had the idea to attach rockets to mine and I went flying.. I tell ya, man, Mole wouldn't live it down for a whole week after. He kept demanding a rematch, but I mean it was fair. He was using his butler to ride for him in his place."

Hiro could barely contain his laughter, "Wait… wait… you and Tadashi did all this?"

"Yeah."

"Why have I never heard of any of this before?"

"I don't know, but he's the whole reason why I got the mascot job in the first place. I knew I could never get into the school myself, but I thought we could hang out together more if I went. He's also the one that introduced me to everybody else."

"Then how did you two meet?"

"Oh at the grocery store."

Fred said this as if it was the most obvious of explanations but Hiro looked as confused as ever. So Fred continued on.

"He was there getting chewing gum and I was buying a shopping cart. Like an actual shopping cart."

"Why?"

"Yeah that's what he asked too. So I told him, 'I'm going to ride down Dead Man's Hill in one.' And he said, 'Dude, that's so rad. You're totally going to die.' And I said, 'Yeah, I know. You wanna join?' And he did. We rode all the way down from the top of Lumbar Street to the docks… and landed right in the bay. It was awesome! We screamed our heads off the whole time. It was so awesome, in fact, that we walked back to the store and bought another cart just to do it again. That was back when we were both still in high school, and we've been best buds ever since. You know… until…"

Hiro looked at Fred sadly. There so much about his brother that hadn't known about, hadn't even thought to ask. What else had Tadashi not shared with him? Probably a lot, I mean why tell your kid brother about your social life? And there's no way that he'd have brought those crazy stunts up around Aunt Cass.

"I never knew any of that… Those are some really cool stories. Thanks for sharing them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and you know, you don't have to drag me on some superheroing mission just to hang out and talk."

Fred looked guilty at that.

"I… I know… but it's like what you and Wasabi have been saying. Everyone else has something… something to motivate them, and y'all all do all these really cool things and I'm… I'm just me. I don't really have anything but superheroing. Unless you just need someone to make a mess."

"That's not true. Fred, you're great at a lot of things. You could go to school or get a job, if you wanted to. I just thought superheroing was all you wanted."

"Hiro, I can't even do laundry without messing up. I mean all you do is throw the clothes into a machine and push a button, and yet somehow I managed to screw even that up. All I know is comic books, and superheroing, and I'm not even the best at that! What would I even go to college for? I can't… I'm not a genius. I'm not a businessman. I'm not an accountant, or an artist, or an athlete. I'm not anything. I've no talent. I'm not even good at being rich. I've never fit in with the socialite crowd."

"Fred."

"Yeah?"

"You're good at being a friend, and if I have to sit here list off everything else you're good at then we'd be here for another three hours or more. So how about we head home and tomorrow I'll show you how to work a washing machine, and you can teach me how a stake-out is supposed to really go cause we're not getting anywhere here."

"Or are we?"

"What do you mean?"

Fred was no longer looking at Hiro but past him. He pointed to the window behind Hiro, and Hiro turned around to see for himself.

An elderly gentleman, dressed in an old fashioned military outfit, complete with a monocle, was entering the warehouse. He had a giant mechanical arm and a steam boiler strapped to his back.

"Baron Von Steamer."

                                               ---------------------------

Fred and Hiro found themselves standing in the alley peering through the warehouse's dirty windows for a second time that day. They saw Baron Von Steamer stomping around inside. He seemed irritated as he grumbled to himself and knocked boxes out of the way, as if searching for something.

"What's he doing?" Fred loudly whispered.

Just then Steamer found what he was looking for, a tea cup. He poured himself a cup out of a teapot he had placed on an old fashioned stove that was hidden towards the back and then sat down on top of a crate to sip his drink.

"It must be 'tea time' for him." Hiro said dryly.

Fred narrowed his eyes, "I bet he's just hatching his next nefarious scheme. Planning on how to take us and the city down. What do you think he wants with portals?"  

Just then Steamer stood up and ruefully kicked away a busted up robot that had fallen out of a storage crate in his previous hunt for the tea cup.

"I don't think Steamer is our guy." Hiro said, "He hates modern technology, so why would he build ninja robots? Also, like you said, what would he want with portals? All he's after is your dad, and so far the Bosu hasn't gone after Boss Awesome yet."

"But they might. Remember what Roddy said? That Kensei guy used to be active during Dad's heyday but never got caught. What if, it's because Steamer had two villain identities!"

"That seems like a stretch."

"Okay, well, what if Steamer works for this Bosu? Like Sue and Sparkles?"

"That's more plausible, I guess."

Hiro turned to peer through the window again, but Streamer was gone.

'Wait, where did he go?'

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A pair of interlopers." A curt British voice  came from behind them.

Steamer must have noticed them and snuck around the back, cutting them off.

Hiro grabbed his phone in order to call his super suit, but Von Steamer nabbed his hand and yanked him off the ground, causing him to lose hold of his phone.

Fred was just as unfortunate, as Steamer held him in a choke hold in his metal arm.

"Waaaait," Steamer said as he eyed them both up closely, peering at them through his oversized monocle, "I know you two. You're friends of Boss Awesome's baby child!"

"I am Boss Awesome's baby child!" Fred protested before Von Steamer gave him a hard squeeze with his cyborg arm. Fred wheezed in pain.

Hiro reacted quickly and kicked the steampunk baron in the shins.

Von Steamer howled in pain and dropped Hiro in surprise, though he managed to keep his grip on Fred. He also had stepped on Hiro's phone while nursing his injured leg.

Hiro ducked and ran as Steamer regained his senses and pulled out a brass gun that was connected to the boiler on his back with a hose. He pulled the trigger and scalding steam shot out. Hiro ducked again to avoid it.

As he ran out of the alley way he heard Steamer shouting after him, "Yes, run back to Boss Awesome little one. Tell his baby child I have their friend, and either he, or they, must show up to face me or else!"

Hiro spared a glace backwards and saw Baron Von Steamer dragging Fred back into the warehouse.

"Fred!"

"Hiro!" Fred called out to him before being pulled into the darkness.

Hiro panicked. What could he do? Finally, he decided that getting help was the best option. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, fighting back his worry.

[bloodgoddarlin]

Fluff time with Sweet Boy Odysseus =)

He is *so* protective. In general, but especially over the kids. What are you doing bringing kids into wars what the fuck. He absolutely hangs around snowchester and frets over the kids, being something between a mom friend and a cool older sibling to bench trio. They may not be as close with Purpled (bc I don't know much about his character) but you'd best believe they've threatened Quackity with blowing Las Nevadas off the map if they find out he's treating Purpled badly.

So he's not actually that much older kinda? (If I make him the same age as me that's only about a year older than Tommy (my birthday being April 2003 and his April 2004) and while that means I'm older/an adult, it's not by much. I feel way older than them(bench trio) but that's probably just ✨trauma✨. But I don't want him to have a weird age gap with Techno/Titus so. Idk) but he feels like he wants to protect them still getting to be kids while they can because he didn't get that option.

They have weird hormone cycles from their wolf hybrid part (and I'm making up the science here so don't expect accuracy) and during one part of their cycle they get a need to have all of their 'pack' in their sight. They can go without if needed but it makes them very anxious. They usually can be fine in any given day as long as they have a family dinner with everyone

A small problem arises from this though, as their pack is not just Techno/Titus, but Phil and bench trio (including Michael!!) as well. For them their pack isn't determined by blood, but instead just people that they care about deeply. Trying to get this lot to play nice together is not an easy task though

Little detour to talk about Michael because I love him and I'm giving him main character syndrome (plus some ideas for piglin lore)

Oddy *adores* Michael. They will always babysit, and they think he's the cutest. They also tend to coo at him in piglin from the bits they've picked up. It's not perfect and their grammar is horrible, but their pronunciation is surprisingly clear.

Speaking of clear speech! I hc that zombie piglins are almost always completely unintelligible to anyone who speaks piglin (though people who don't know it can't really tell the difference). So when Oddy said hi to Michael and got a clear response? And when he was able to answer questions at an appropriate level to his age? Color them impressed.

They aren't really able to teach him any more piglin, instead roping Titus into helping (and if Oddy also uses them as lessons, that's for them to know), but they try to teach him as many common words as they can (he can't say many, his vocal cords aren't really suited for the complicated sounds, but he's trying)

"I don't want to be a parent but I swear to God I will kill for these kids" -Oddy, probably.

Cuddle piles. Mandatory for family dinners. The blankets and pillows are all on the floor and it is cuddle city. He likes seeing that his pack is all around him, safe and comfortable.

(I have more,,, spicy thoughts about the rest of his hormone cycle but that's for another day😏)

One of his safe foods is mashed potatoes (and baked potatoes only if they're done right) so the mass amounts of potatoes they have at the cabin is very convenient. They try to eat other things when they can but when a bad sensory day hits, or if they're upset for another reason or anything like that? Nothing but potatoes baby. (Inspired by the fact that mashed potatoes is one of my safe foods)

🌌anon

oddy my beloved ; u ; this is so cute!!! i love him sm

[alieinthemorning]

(Taken from @/cozyvaquita on Twitter)

1. Something new you tired? Something you wish you did?

This year I started writing for a new fandom! I wish I wrote for any of the other ones I rambled about.

2. The fic with your best writing? What about your favorite? No. They're not the same.

I think Slip of His Mask has some of my best writing. I'm not too sure though. Can the audience please vote now?

More Than A Tool is one of my favorites. Anything that sticks in my head for a long time and evokes so much emotions from me gets to sit on the top shelf.

3. A line/paragraph (or even three) you wrote that absolutely bangs?

“You’re more than a weapon. More than a tool.” Your grip on him tightened. “You are Ajax. A son, a brother and the man that I love.”

- More Than A Tool

“There’s only one other person who shares in this pain and that’s you Diluc.” You made your way to him, placing your hands on his clenched fists.

“Please help Kaeya.”

He looked up at you. Eyes that burned with no flame, now hazed by tears.

“Please save your brother.”

- Slip of His Mask

“Which means,” She took your hands into her own, “each and every one of these scars is a star. Something that was meant to be.” She kissed them.

- Stars Within Scars

4. Pick a fic you've written. Now distill it into a single color. Why does it look that way to you?

A color? This is more so of a swirl. Its very dark with reds, blues and purples. A bit like a galaxy if you will. There's something that's not said in the fic but I've thought a lot about. It has to do with Kaeya's eyes, stigmata and Khaenri'ah. The fic I'm talking about is Slip of His Mask.

5. Three tracks you've listen to a totally normal amount while writing?

I'm not big on listening to music when writing since I usually zone all the way out and a song ends up playing like five times.

I'd say a lot of Friday Night Funkin' songs were played though.

6. The fic you spent the most time on?

Whispers on the Wind . I fretted so hard over it and I still don't think it's all that good. I always want to go back and work on it.

7. The fic that made you want to quit writing?

See above.

8. The fic you had the most fun with?

Sheer Cold Cryo. Reader mocking Kaeya was a highlight for me. Oh! and just pocking fun at him with Albedo!

9. The fic that should've gotten more attention. You know you're right. Tell everyone why.

All of them. Read them, they're a treat.

10. Favorite thing someone's said about your writing. In a fic comment or otherwise?

my first comment bc i love ur ficlet series omg heart eyes awooga

ittos lovely on Homie of an Oni (AO3)

Itto picks us up bridal style? Oh???

I love this collection so far! Well done!

Anon Itto Enjoyer on Homie of an Oni (AO3)

11. Your biggest writing grievance? Complain to your heart's content. You've earned the right.

The whole writing part. Why can't the ideas just go from my head onto the document?

12. The wip you're most enthused about? Show us a snippet.

I ain't got no tea sis.

13. The project you're happiest about finishing?

Smiles in yet another deleted fic. Once again, wasn't a genshin fic. But I spent a very long time on it! And it all didn't even get published! But I'm happy I finished it!

14. Your best oddly specific tag(s) you've used for you fics?

Arataki Itto Being The Best Character In Genshin Impact

15. Your writing process moodboard? Pick 4 images.

16. A fic you did the absolute most with, the one you wrote for you? You didn't have to go that far, but you wanted to. Brag about it.

[REDACTED] because it's deleted! Here's a comment I got on the fic though!

i yell-laughed at the idea of riku saying "lets rock and roll" a la embarrasing dad style, this was so cute heLLLP

17. Finally, writing is often a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad experience. What made you keep at it anyway in this bizarre year?

Me. There were things that I wanted to read that weren't written, so I had to write it.

I did my MHA fics under the cut!

I started writing for more female characters! I wish I finished that one fic! Too late for that now!

2. The fic with your best writing? What about your favorite? No. They're not the same.

I'm definitely gonna need an audience vote on this one. I have no idea.

I'm definitely gonna need an audience vote on this one. I have no idea.

3. A line/paragraph (or even three) you wrote that absolutely bangs?

SHIGARAKI TOMURA WAGES WAR ON HEROES

You shut off the tv.

And think back to simpler times.

When Shimura Tenko held your heart.

- Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko [one]

A red feather slid underneath the door and up toward the lock, but you snatched it out the air. “No!” Then shoved it back under. “Please, please—  Just leave me alone!”

There was a solid thump on the other side. “What happened? Is it something I did? I can’t stand to see you like this.” His voice was calm but you could still hear the undertones of pain and fear.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, Keigo.”

“Then why would you ask me if I hated you.”

“I—” The message flashed across your lids. “I can’t —” You pulled at your hair.

“Then… can I at least stay?” You wanted him to stay but you also wanted him to leave. He didn’t need to be here while you wallowed in self pity. It wasn’t even all that important anyway. Just you being over reactive as usual.

- Hawks | Takami Keigo [three]

“I gotta admit, it would’ve been easier to get rid of you if you weren’t so beautiful.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, choosing to ignore his compliment . “The worst part was that I saw it coming, I knew you’d hurt me, hurt us, but I still kept you around.” You shook your head. “We were never in love, we were simply caught up in a nightmare that felt like a dream.”

- Dabi [Winter Wonderland]

4. Pick a fic you've written. Now distill it into a single color. Why does it look that way to you?

Cinderella Blue. For the Cinderella Series I did. Well, not a series per say, but I wrote 3 fics using songs from Cinderella (1997)

Do I Love You Because You're Beautiful?, Ten Minutes Ago, Dabi | Todoroki Touya [one]

5. Three tracks you've listen to a totally normal amount while writing?

I'm not big on listening to music when writing since I usually zone all the way out and a song ends up playing like five times. I'd say a lot of Friday Night Funkin' songs were played though.

6. The fic you spent the most time on?

I don't know... if it was anything it was a request though.

7. The fic that made you want to quit writing?

[Redacted]

Nah, I'll actually namedrop this one.

Quirkmates.

I'm not really a fan of Midoriya, but a few people were wondering if I was every gonna make it into a full fic.

The concept with good but I didn't have the motivation to properly executive it.

8. The fic you had the most fun with?

Foxy Mama, but like all the fun was behind the scene and are trapped in my head.

9. The fic that should've gotten more attention. You know you're right. Tell everyone why.

All of them. Read them, they're a treat.

10. Favorite thing someone's said about your writing. In a fic comment or otherwise?

OK this is really weird but all the nicknames Hawks uses just... makes me melt.

My_Little_Epona on Hawks | Takami Keigo [three] (AO3)

Something else completely relatable. I friggin' love angst, ngl. It's also really nice seeing Hawks being there for the reader, it makes my heart melt. I obviously don't know what the reader read, but I definitely can understand where she's coming from. Now, while I do hope nothing else ends up hurting you, I do love to read your angst fics! <3

MsPyromaniac on Hawks | Takami Keigo [three] (AO3)

Its nearly a year later vut i hope you feel better! ;u; also djdodndjdodndj i love me some hurt/comfort. its... very comforting xD

Summoner_Jay on Hawks | Takami Keigo [three] (AO3)

Thank y'all for the comments on my self-indulgent vent fics.

11. Your biggest writing grievance? Complain to your heart's content. You've earned the right.

The whole writing part. Why can't the ideas just go from my head onto the document?

12. The wip you're most enthused about? Show us a snippet.

I ain't got no tea sis.

13. The project you're happiest about finishing?

Smiles in yet another deleted fic. Once again, wasn't a genshin fic. But I spent a very long time on it! And it all didn't even get published! But I'm happy I finished it!

14. Your best oddly specific tag(s) you've used for you fics?

Reader has a Fox Quirk !

15. Your writing process moodboard? Pick 4 images.

16. A fic you did the absolute most with, the one you wrote for you? You didn't have to go that far, but you wanted to. Brag about it.

I'd say the Check In Series. I was going through it when I wrote those. Very dark times, read at your own risk.

17. Finally, writing is often a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad experience. What made you keep at it anyway in this bizarre year?

Me. There were things that I wanted to read that weren't written, so I had to write it.

[cumbercookiebatchs]

When she threw open the apartment door and hollered out in her usual manner, "Papa, the people in my class are fools who spew bourgeois propaganda and I don't know how to—" she didn't expect she would be hastily shushed by a voice she knew for sure didn't belong to her Papa, but to another man who usually didn't appear at their home without their knowledge. Or, well, at least, her knowledge; there was still the matter of that time she had invited the art gallery curator over for dinner without first telling her Papa, which resulted in her very flustered and embarassed Papa opening up the door unpreparedly to a fully suited Grantaire while he himself was clad in his kitten-pajamas, an incident for which her Papa still hasn't forgiven her for. Marianne doesn't really see why; clearly Grantaire was completely enamoured by the whole look, if anything.

But dragging her attention back to the present situation, she watched as her Papa's boyfriend (and wasn't that a bit odd to think about—it wasn't as if she was opposed to him dating, or opposed at all to him dating the gallery curator, considering it was her who pulled the two together—it was just a bit of a jolt to see him hold another's hand or smile when talking of someone romantically—he was her father, so she supposed it had something to do with that, though another part of her suspected it was just the way she still held that little bit of concern from his separation from his dick-of-an-ex all those years ago while she was still a baby—a girl's going to fret a little for her father, right?) ease himself back against the cushions of the couch without waking her slumbering Papa slumped on his chest and perched on his lap (which—once again—was a bit odd to see, considering for many years it was her who had fallen asleep in her Papa's lap, and with a very different kind of love behind the action.) She raised an eyebrow.

"Not that I'm discouraging you from coming over or telling you to stay away or anything, but what are you doing here?" she whispered, mindful of her Papa's sleeping state.

Grantaire glanced down and carded a gentle hand through her Papa's golden curls. "He had a...bit of a day," he replied, equally as quiet.

Marianne frowned. "But he was working from home today." When she realized what must have happened, she swore, and it was a testament to how much she liked Grantaire when he didn't even bat an eye. "I didn't think the work at the firm was getting to be this bad."

Grantaire looked grave. "Bad enough if it warranted the kind of anxiety attack he had when he called me over." He peered down, mouth turning down to a concerned frown for a moment before he pressed a kiss to the top of her Papa's head, something which made her smile, though she dared not do it too largely. She still had the part to play of the daughter disgusted with parental PDA, after all.

One matter, however... "Wait, how did you even get off of work to get here?"

His eyes flashed up to her's. "Renovations, remember? Gallery's closed for three weeks cause of it."

Oh right, the renovations. The memory of having been told of it did come to mind, and even if it didn't, she should have been able to figure it our based on the hoodie and sweatpants the man donned, so opposite the sharp suits he would usually wear for his job. Honestly, how very convenient. Though, she didn't doubt the fact that even if he wasn't off work right now—or at least, off work at the actual gallery, considering she had spent one too many of his infamous rambles listening to him complain of all the work he has to get done at home—he still would have rushed to help her Papa.

Which, at the end of the day, is truly what wins her over once and for all. Smiling, she thinks a little before saying, "You're a good guy, Grantaire."

The upturn of Grantaire's mouth was bright especially in the evening light. He moved to sit up on the edge of the seat, but that was the moment her Papa endeavoured to shift on Grantaire's lap, letting a little sniffle and burrowing deeper into the man's chest, prompting him to freeze and recline back on the couch oncemore instead.

"So," he whispered once he made sure her Papa was settled once more, "I have the approval of the hard-to-win-over-child, then?"

She rolled her eyes. "I never disapproved of you. In fact, I approved of you way before. I'm the one who called you for dinner."

Grantaire smirked. "Maybe. But you kind of have this intense stare to you—kind of like your dad here."

She rolled her eyes once more; her Papa fanboyed over her Uncle Feuilly, there wasn't much fierceness there. "Whatever."

They both fell in a comfortable silence, punctuated at times only by their breaths and what sounded like her Papa's sighs as he would shift and cling closer to Grantaire every so often, a soft look gracing Grantaire's features as he did so. Now, she thought, was fit to proceed into her own room and leave Grantaire and her Papa be, but before she could do so, Grantaire cleared his throat, calling for her attention. With the utmost tried casualty, he said, "I was thinking of taking your father to the Pont des Arts and maybe getting a bit of coffee and..." he trailed off.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me for permission?"

He looked a bit sheepish. "No. Yes. I don't know, I've never done this before."

"Did you miss the fact that I was the one who asked you over to dinner? I have no problems."

The relief on Grantaire's face was evident.

"That is," she continued. "If he says yes. His word is more important here."

Grantaire nodded hastily. "Yeah, right, of course."

She smirked. "Just have him back by ten." The words caused a rush of adrenaline through her. Damn, she never thought she would ever get to say that about her father.

Chuckling, Grantaire gave her as best a salute he could with his arms wrapped around her Papa and repiled "Yes, ma'am."

Turning, she moved to head to her room at last before one more thought struck her and she turned once more with a devious smile. "By the way, do you think I should clear out for the night?"

Grantaire blinked. "What?"

"I mean I could head over to Uncle Combeferre and Uncle Courf's place, they always let me sleep over if I want."

"I don't know what you're asking," Grantaire said, but the faint blush on his stubbled cheeks knew that that wasn't truly the case.

Her smile grew even more wicked. "Yes you do, I'm asking whether or not you're going to have sex tomorrow."

At this, Grantaire thoroughly coloured red, and he sputtered so badly he didn't notice the man on his lap shifting until he opened his eyes.

"Is that anyway to talk about your Papa?" her Papa asked drowsily as he yawned and craned his head to look at her.

"Oh please," she said, "I'm quite disgusted, but I've gotta know, don't I? I don't wanna be here for it."

"Well in that case," her Papa yawned once more and turned his head to burrow back into Grantaire's chest, "head over to Bahorel's place, Ferre and Courf are at an exhibit at the museum."

Grantaire looked down at her Papa in alarm. "Enjolras."

He peered up at him sleepily. "What?" He stretched up a bit to give him a quick peck on the lips, to which Marianne let out a slight noise of disgust. "Did I say something wrong?"

The red in Grantaire's face simply would not fade away. "Well, I, uh..."

Her Papa hummed. "I didn't think so either." The kiss he delivered now was no quick peck--slow and deep, her Papa winding his arms around Grantaire's neck as his boyfriend pulled him closer—and certainly not anything she needed to see either.

"Papa, no, shit you can't wait for me to leave. What, do you want me to leave for tonight as well?"

Her Papa only broke off to say, "Watch your language." He delivered one kiss more before saying, "No, Grantaire was just about to leave anyways, and I have to help you with your discussion skills to help your class understand that they're spreading bourgeois propaganda and how to prevent that, isn't that right, Grantaire?"

Now, Marianna personally would have been offended if someone were trying to kick her out like that, but perhaps in this moment, it was more of a bail-out for Grantaire rather than a boot-out considering how flustered he seemed at the moment with the two.

"Right, I'll, uh, I'll just." He walked over to the door, her Papa following close behind. "I'll just—"

Her Papa stretched up on his toes to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Grantaire."

Grantaire looked down at him, a grin spreading across his face as he, unaware, reached a hand to his cheeks where her Papa's lips had brushed only a moment ago. "Yeah, bye."

Marianne groaned. "Gosh, save it for tomorrow!"

THEY'RE SO CUTE!!!!