#Curiosity in a Junkyard

[thelvadams]

60 YEARS IN TIME AND SPACE

Yes, it all started out as a mild curiosity in a junkyard. And now it's turned out to be quite a... quite a great spirit of adventure, don't you think?

[hy6erion]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⍣✰...𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰

⇢ 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐲/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐀𝐀 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 Ó╭╮Ò

The murky underbelly of Zaun was alive with the endless hiss of steam vents, the low groan of pipes, and the occasional bursts of green luminescence that spilled from the cracks of the labyrinthine streets. Viktor, still just a boy with a mop of unruly hair and limbs far too thin for his age, sat on the cold stone steps of an abandoned factory. A small wooden contraption rested in his hands — a toy boat he had cobbled together from scraps and discarded parts he’d scavenged earlier that day.

The other children in Zaun called him strange, always teasing him for how he rarely joined in their rough-and-tumble games. He didn’t mind much. He liked the quiet. Solitude was predictable, safe even. No one mocked him for his limp when he was alone.

He twisted a tiny crank on the toy boat, its copper sails catching the faint light from a nearby bioluminescent sign. The gears inside clicked softly as the boat began to wobble forward on the damp stone, mimicking a real vessel in rough seas. Viktor smiled faintly.

“You made that?” A voice broke the stillness.

Startled, Viktor looked up to see a girl standing a few steps away. She was small, maybe a year or two younger than him, with hair that gleamed silvery-white, like threads of moonlight, and eyes so dark they seemed to drink in the dim Zaunite light. She wore a patchwork dress, clearly made from repurposed fabrics, but it was clean, which was rare for Zaun’s children.

“Yes,” Viktor said hesitantly, clutching the boat protectively. “It’s… just something I made.��

The girl tilted her head, her hair shifting like liquid silver. “It’s not just anything. It’s amazing!” She stepped closer, her bare feet making no sound on the stone. “Does it really work?”

He blinked at her enthusiasm, unsure how to respond. Most kids either ignored him or mocked his creations. “It… moves. But it’s not waterproof, so it won’t float on water.”

Her lips curled into a bright smile. “Still amazing. I’m y/n, by the way.” She plopped down on the step next to him, uninvited but without any malice.

“I’m Viktor,” he mumbled, feeling the unfamiliar heat of someone sitting so close to him. He shifted slightly but didn’t tell her to leave.

Y/n‘s eyes fixated on the toy boat. “How did you make it? The little… um, spinny things?”

“Gears,” Viktor corrected instinctively. He held the boat up and turned it slightly so she could see the inner workings. “I found them in the junkyard. And the sails are… just tin scraps. The crank here winds up a spring, and it powers the gears to move the wheels underneath.”

Y/n‘s face lit up in fascination. “You’re really smart, huh?”

He blinked, taken aback. “I… just like making things.”

“Well, I can’t make anything,” Y/n said, laughing softly. “Except trouble, I guess.” She leaned back, looking up at the grimy sky above Zaun. “But I like looking at things. Like this boat. It’s like… like you made something small and beautiful in a place where everything’s broken.”

Viktor didn’t know what to say to that. He looked down at the boat, suddenly seeing it in a new light. “I just… I wanted to see if I could make something that worked. That’s all.”

“Well, you did,” she said firmly, nudging him with her shoulder. “It’s really cool. Can I try?”

“Try?” Viktor repeated, frowning.

“The crank thing,” Y/n clarified, pointing at the mechanism. “I want to make it move.”

Viktor hesitated, clutching the boat tighter. It wasn’t often someone touched his creations, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about sharing. But there was something earnest in Y/n‘s expression, a curiosity that mirrored his own when he first started tinkering.

“Okay,” he said finally, handing her the boat. “But… be careful.”

Y/n took it with delicate hands, her fingers brushing against his briefly. She turned the crank tentatively, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. When the gears clicked and the wheels started to move, her face lit up with unrestrained joy.

“It works!” she exclaimed, laughing. “This is incredible!”

Viktor found himself smiling despite himself. Her laughter was infectious, a rare sound in Zaun’s dreary streets.

“Do you… live around here?” he asked awkwardly, unsure why he even cared.

Y/n shrugged, still watching the boat roll forward on the step. “Kind of. My dad works in the sump — fixing pipes and stuff. He’s hardly home, though, so I wander a lot. What about you?”

“I… live alone,” Viktor admitted quietly. “My parents… they’re gone.”

“Oh,” Y/n said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Viktor shook his head quickly. “It’s fine. I’ve been on my own for a while now. It’s… easier that way.”

“Doesn’t sound easier,” Y/n said matter-of-factly. “Sounds lonely.”

Viktor didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the toy boat. He wanted to say that he didn’t mind being alone, but her words lingered in his mind, heavy and undeniable.

Y/n set the boat down carefully between them. “If you don’t mind, I’ll come visit you. You know, so you’re not alone all the time.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Viktor said quickly, his voice stiff. “I don’t need—”

“I know you don’t need me,” Y/n interrupted with a grin. “But maybe you want someone to talk to. And… I like your inventions. I want to see more of them.”

Viktor stared at her, unsure how to respond. No one had ever wanted to spend time with him before, not like this. “I… guess that would be okay.”

“Good!” Y/n said, hopping to her feet. “I’ll come back tomorrow. And maybe… you could teach me how to make something?”

Viktor blinked, surprised by the suggestion. “You want to learn?”

“Why not?” Y/n replied with a shrug. “If I can’t make anything on my own, maybe I can learn from someone who can.”

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Viktor felt a flicker of something warm in his chest. It wasn’t quite happiness, but it was close. “Alright,” he said quietly. “I can teach you.”

Y/n beamed at him, her dark eyes shining like polished obsidian. “It’s a deal, then.”

As she bounded away, disappearing into the maze of Zaun’s streets, Viktor sat there with the toy boat in his lap, his thoughts racing. The world around him was still grimy, still filled with the smell of oil and decay, but it didn’t feel quite so oppressive anymore.

For the first time in his life, he wasn’t entirely alone. And somehow, that made all the difference.

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step Part 4

One month later...

Sorry about that guys. Hopefully now that Batshit Soulmates and Not All That Glitters is Gold is coming to end next week, you'll get more of this story.

In this we have the relay race, Steve getting weird vibes from his teammates, and finally putting his foot down with Nancy.

Again Nancy will get worse before she gets better.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve kept catching Ezra looking at him at the strangest times. It made something between his shoulder blades itch. Like it had back in the junkyard with the demodogs. Just that feeling of...not evil. But danger. He just couldn’t shake the feeling.

He stood behind the jump box and shook his arms loose. He hopped up and down on the balls of his feet trying to stay warmed up. All along the line the other competitors were doing the same.

He got into position and pulled his goggles down. Then the shot went off and they all dived in.

Steve was going up against his teammates for the individual events and knew that for this first one, he had it in the bag. Butterfly was his specialty. So he focused on beating them and not worry about the other competitors.

He knew his form was good, his strokes powerful. His breaths perfectly timed.

Before he knew it he was touching the end plate and getting out of the water.

He saw a couple other boys getting out of the water after him, but it was clear he had beaten them.

His coaches were cheering almost as loudly as the crowd was and Steve felt a sense of accomplishment, one that wasn’t tied to other worldly dimensions and protecting nosy ass teenagers from monsters. He smiled up at the stands and waved.

He took off his goggles and waited for the judges to read the results. A boy from Chicago was second and third place was from Minnesota. But Steve was the undisputed winner.

His teammates mobbed him, jumping on him and cheering.

He watched as his teammates won medals in their heats too. Then they called it for the boys for the day.

Steve hit the showers ready to get that oil slick feel of the chlorine off his skin. Grateful that the cap protected his hair.

He scrubbed his skin with the soap and again he could feel someone watching him, but this time when he looked up, he couldn’t tell who it was as there were so many people around.

It made his skin crawl. It was like sharing the shower room with Tommy and Billy all over again. An experience Steve would rather not repeat. But it wasn’t as though he could go to the coaches with anything, either. There was always going to be boys staring at you in the showers. It didn’t necessarily mean they were gay either. Hatred. Envy. Even curiosity.

He quickly got dressed and hurried out to his waiting friends.

Jeff put his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

Steve looked behind him, but didn’t see anything. He nodded. “Just jumpy being so far away from home, I guess.”

Eddie frowned.

Wayne clapped his hands together. “All right, Jeff and I are going site-seeing this afternoon. You boys behave yourselves.”

“Never!” Eddie cackled.

Jeff gave him a high five. “The only way to be.”

Steve and Eddie watched as they walked away talking about all the places they were going to see.

“This about your comic, baby?” Eddie whispered.

Steve shook his head. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get to your hotel room.”

Once they were up in Eddie’s room, Steve flopped on the bed dramatically.

“I would give up sports all together if I didn’t think my dad would kill me if I tried.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean, gorgeous?” He got up onto the bed next to Steve.

“Ever since I fell from popularity or lost my crown or whatever,” Steve grumbled, “it’s been really hostile in the locker rooms.”

Eddie laid down next to him. “Even with the swim guys?”

“Before this trip I wouldn’t have thought so,” Steve murmured. “But I’ve caught Ezra staring at me more than once and it’s making my skin crawl. And I’ve been feeling it when he’s not around, too. I don’t know, it might be in my head.”

Eddie pulled him close. “I doubt it’s in your head, Steve. I know you better than that. You wouldn’t be feeling it if there wasn’t something to it.”

Steve let out a sigh. “I guess.”

Eddie pressed his lips to the column of his throat. “I know just how to distract you.”

Steve hummed. “I was hoping you might.”

****

Steve stood in line for the final event. The 4x100 m/yd medley or relay swim. They were all bouncing on their toes, trying to shake off their nerves.

Steve was up third with the butterfly and Ezra was last with free style, with Nike and Lyle starting for back and breaststroke respectively.

Lyle was their weakest link, and being second, it could really hurt them if Steve couldn’t pick up time. Ezra was by far and away their best and fastest swimmer. His front crawl was incredible to watch.

Nick got up on the podium and readied himself for the starting shot. Steve nodded in approval. Nick’s stance was good.

BANG!

And they were off. Nick slicing through the water like a knife. He spun around and began the backstroke. He had an instinct that couldn’t be taught and that’s why he was the best at his part of the relay.

He touched the plate below the podium and Lyle was off, showcasing exactly why he was on the team. His broadstroke was good, but not great. What he was great at was getting off the starting podium at the precise moment Nick touched it.

Steve got up and focused on Lyle coming back down the length of the pool. Lyle was doing well, keeping up with the other teams and not losing any ground that Nick bought them.

He leapt in and all the roar of the crowd, the splashing of the other teams’ members, even the sound of his heart beat went away. It was just him and the water. No distractions, no worries, no fears, just the way the water flowed around him.

Each movement was flawless, breathtaking. Then he was touching the pad and Ezra was splashing into the water above him. He pulled himself out of the water and the world came rushing back in.

He was handled a towel and he began scrubbing his face so he could watch Ezra finish their heat. It really wasn’t even contest. Ezra turned before the other teams were even half way. Ezra would have to get a cramp and drown in order for them to catch up.

Something he obviously didn’t do. He tapped the panel and pulled himself out of the water. He looked up at the time clock with a frown. They had won. Of course they had, but even Steve could tell that hadn’t beaten the record.

Even though Steve and Ezra were co-captains, they had flipped a coin in the locker room to see who would be on the podium if they medalled. Ezra had won.

Steve smiled at his teammate. They had kicked ass.

They all hurried to get showered and changed so that they could celebrate with the people that had come to see them compete and their coaches.

Then they got the news. Nationals were going to be held in California that year in two weeks. They only had two weeks to raise the money to go all the way out to California and Steve felt in the pit of his stomach that Nancy was going to bring it up again. But he pushed it as far to the back of his mind as he could.

Now was the time celebrate.

All throughout dinner and as they got ready for bed Steve still felt like Ezra was watching him. It seemed less hostile then from when they were in the showers, but it still sent a chill down Steve spine as he tried to keep the conversation light with the other boy.

The next morning they all packed up, ready to go back to Hawkins.

It had been a fun trip, the weirdness with Ezra aside. Steve had a few medals to take home with him. A couple of golds, three silver, and a bronze. And they were going to Nationals. It had been one hell of a trip.

****

Of course, Nancy had made a fuss about them going to Nationals. She had ranted about it in the school newspaper again.

Even Tommy H stopped to ask him if Nancy had it out for him in particular after the article came out.

It was the first nice thing that Tommy had said in literal months. And the thing was, Steve didn’t know.

In fact Steve was speaking more to Jonathan at the moment than he was Nancy. A fact that hadn’t escaped him.

So he finally cornered her about it at her locker after school a couple of days after the article came out.

“Seriously, Nancy,” he growled. “What the hell is your problem with me?”

She straightened up. “My problem, Steve, is that you played with my heart for almost two years and I’m suddenly supposed to be okay that you’re dating a man?”

Steve looked around to make sure no one was around to hear that. He grabbed her arm and dragged her to an empty class room.

“Are you trying to get me beaten up?” he hissed. “First this campaign of yours against the swim team and now outing me in the middle of the fucking school, Jesus Christ!”

“Does Eddie know he’s dating a coward?”

Steve straightened up and squared his shoulders. “You’re jealous.”

She folded her arms and leaned back on one foot. “What? No I’m not.”

“You are!” he laughed. “This make so much more sense!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve leaned down into her space. “Oh but I do. You see, Nancy. Despite everything I did love you, but you never loved me. You’ve always been waiting for something better, for someone better and you moved on the instant you found it.”

“That’s not true!” Nancy hissed.

“You didn’t even wait until we had officially broken up to sleep with him for fuck’s sake!” Steve hissed back. “And now that I’ve found someone who loves me for who I am, you can’t deal with it. Because you want to remain as your second option. Well, I’m not some college you can fall back to when your first choice falls through. I’m a human being who just wanted you to love him.”

She stomped her foot angrily. “You don’t get to say that. You’re gay, Steve don’t give me this bullshit about loving me. Because you can’t.”

“I did love you, Nance,” Steve insisted. “Maybe I wasn’t sexually attracted to you, but we both got off and you know we did. Love isn’t just about romance and sex. There are other kinds. But I won’t let you continue to hurt me because you’re jealous.”

“What are you going to do about it?” she huffed.

“I’ll tell the journalism teacher that you have a vendetta against me and to talk you off writing sports,” he said with a shrug.

Nancy scoffed. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Steve tilted his head. “You’ll find I still be pretty persuasive when I want to be. And who is he going to believe? Co-captain of the swim team or little Miss Priss?”

Her jaw dropped.

“That’s what I thought.”

And he walked away.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

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[ruewrote]

𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠.

PAIRING: chloe price x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: you by petit biscuit WORD COUNT: 635

navigation | ask | life is strange masterlist

you could hear chloe approaching before you saw her. the crunch of boots on gravel and the unmistakable sound of her humming some tune under her breath. you smirked to yourself, whole body shaking with excitement, hardly being able to contain yourself as you wait in front of the gleaming new truck, parked on the edge of the junkyard.

when chloe finally appeared, her brows knitted in suspicion. “okay, you’ve officially got me curious. what are we doing here?”

“patience, price,” you said, grinning. “i’ve got something for you, but i’m not gonna let you spoil it before it’s time.”

you stepped toward her, hands behind your back. “but first, i need you to trust me.”

she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? and how do i know you’re not gonna lead me into a trap?”

you laughed softly, stepping closer until you were right in front of her. “you’ll just have to take the risk.”

before she could protest, you gently reached up and placed your hands over her eyes, guiding her forward. “no peeking. just walk with me.”

chloe let out an exaggerated sigh, but you could hear the excitement in her voice. “this better be good.”

you led her carefully through the maze of scrap cars and rusted metal, feeling her hands grip your arm as she relied on you to navigate. each step brought you closer to the surprise.

“okay, we’re almost there,” you whispered, feeling her body tense slightly with anticipation.

“ready?”

she nodded, her breath catching. “yeah, i think so. lay it on me.”

you removed your hands from her eyes, stepping back as she blinked into the fading sunlight. the moment her gaze landed on the sleek, new truck parked in front of her, you could see the disbelief wash over her face.

“dude…no fucking way,” she whispered, eyes wide. “is this…?”

“yours,” you said with a grin, watching her reaction carefully. “happy birthday, chloe.”

she froze for a moment, staring at the truck like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. her hand reached out, fingertips grazing the hood.

“holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. “this is… this is seriously mine?”

“seriously yours,” you confirmed, leaning against the truck. “i’ve been working for months to save up for it. you’ve been through enough with that old deathtrap. i figured you deserve something better.”

chloe’s eyes widened even more and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. she stared at the truck, then back at you, her expression shifting from disbelief to something deeper, something overwhelmed. “you…you did all this? for me?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “yeah. every extra hour, every side job, it was all worth it to see you with something that’s actually reliable. something that feels like you.”

for a second, she just stood there, processing the fact that you’d gone through all that for her. her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “no one’s ever done something like this for me before. i don’t even know what to say…”

she looked at you, eyes filled with gratitude, something raw and real. without warning, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close, like she didn’t want to let go.

“you didn’t have to do this,” she murmured, her voice low and a little shaky. “i seriously don’t deserve this…”

you smiled, resting your chin on her shoulder. “i wanted to. you deserve it more than you know.”

she stepped back, wiping at her eyes with a quick, embarrassed laugh. “okay, okay. enough mushy shit. let’s take this beauty for a spin.”

you watched as she hopped into the driver’s seat, her usual bravado returning as she revved the engine. the smile on her face as she looked back at you,

 that's what made it all worth it.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[zeke-fanfucs]

@riooooooooo ‘s crew and Colt are family now. Canon.

✦ “Scrap Metal & Ghost Code” ✦

Featuring Marie, Colt, and Jessie (with a dash of Ann)

—————1111——-0000——00–111———

The wind on Springrock was dry and sharp, like a warning whispered across rusted sheet metal. Colt hadn’t meant to wander this far out—he just needed parts. Nothing fancy. A few panels, maybe a workable coil or two to turn into charms or trinkets. The kids back in the alleyways always lit up when he brought them gifts. The older ones pretended not to care, but they kept the jewelry tucked in their pockets like they meant something.

He didn’t expect a junkyard to be… guarded.

The first thing he saw was the tall figure—a man? A robot? Towering at 7’1”, wrapped in heavy layers, with a slouched posture that somehow made him even more intimidating. His glowing eyes (or sensors? or whatever they were) stared flatly, unbothered, as if Colt were just wind-blown debris.

Colt’s tail whipped reflexively. He couldn’t help it. His heart lurched. The guy reminded him too much of those masked scientists from his home planet—emotionless, clean, efficient.

Marie didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak either. Just stood there, gaze locked.

“…Uh.” Colt’s voice came out more defensive than intended. “You live here?”

Then:

“BOOM!”

A door slammed open behind Marie, and out popped a gremlin of chaos in human form.

“HOLY CRAP—you have a tail?! Do you have bones in it? Is it sensitive? Does it glow? What do you eat? What’s your planet like? Can I touch it? No? That’s okay. Who are you? I’ve never seen someone like you! Marie, move, you’re in the way— oh my GOD he’s taller than me and YOU! Marie!!”

Marie stepped aside wordlessly.

Colt blinked. The whirlwind that was Jessie was already circling him like a vulture of curiosity. She was barely over five feet tall, all prosthetic limbs and energy like caffeine made flesh. And he… froze.

“I… was just looking for scrap,” Colt mumbled. “I wasn’t trying to—break in or anything.”

Jessie waved it off like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Pffft. Everyone breaks into my junkyard at least once. You’re just the coolest one to do it. Marie, doesn’t he look cool?”

Marie didn’t answer. Instead, he flicked a few fingers in fast, clean sign. Jessie snorted.

“He said you look like a walking antenna with trust issues. Rude, Marie.”

Colt squinted. “Did he really say that?”

Jessie grinned. “No, but it sounded funnier that way.”

From behind a rusted barrel, Ann—a tiny, knife-edged robot—emerged with a whirr, climbing Marie’s coat like a cat and perching on his shoulder. The machine’s glowing optics narrowed at Colt, scanning.

Marie finally signed again.

Jessie translated with a thoughtful hum. “He says you’re just another anomaly. Not a threat unless proven otherwise.”

“…Thanks?” Colt muttered.

He should’ve left. His instincts screamed it. But something about this trio—this chaos—made him pause. Jessie, with her unfiltered kindness. The creepy robot man who hadn’t even tried to hurt him. The assassin-turned-parrot perched on his shoulder.

Maybe… maybe he could stay. Just for a bit. Maybe long enough to find something shiny, make something small, and leave behind a piece of art the kids could smile at.

Or maybe he’d accidentally make friends.

…Ugh.

Colt’s tail twitched slightly as Jessie poked at it with intense fascination, eyes sparkling like she’d discovered a new species. Which, technically, she had.

He didn’t slap her hand away.

He should have, instinct told him that, but the sheer childlike wonder on her face didn’t match any scientist he’d ever known. It didn’t match the memory of white-masked hands pinning him down, or needles in his spine, or the word viable etched onto his chart like a brand.

Jessie wasn’t trying to dissect him. She was just annoying.

A few pokes later, Colt gave a low grunt. “…Careful.”

Jessie immediately pulled back, hands up, grinning. “Sorry, sorry! I forget personal space is a thing. I’ll tone it down. A little.”

He nodded stiffly, his tail uncoiling slowly, the tension finally leaking out of it.

Marie, meanwhile, was still watching. Always watching. The bot had padded him down earlier for weapons with zero emotion — not hostile, just methodical, professional. Colt had let him. Maya was no playground, and this junkyard? It had bones. Literal bones, he was pretty sure.

But when Marie’s gloved hand brushed against the odd, curved blade holstered at Colt’s back—delicate tech, fused with organic matter—Colt growled.

Marie had paused. Not threatened. Just… calculating. Then, he backed off.

Now, they sat under a half-broken roof panel, passing around a canteen of what Jessie promised was juice.

“This better not be oil,” Colt muttered, sniffing it.

“Why does everyone always assume I’m trying to poison them?” Jessie asked, dramatically offended. “It’s orange cactus squeeze. Little zing. Maybe a punch.”

Colt sipped it.

It was not juice. He wasn’t sure it was legal. But he didn’t spit it out either.

Ann buzzed around him again like an angry toaster with wings, occasionally tapping its foot on his shoulder, as if judging him.

“You got a name, spike-tail?” Jessie asked eventually, sitting cross-legged in the dirt beside him.

“…Colt.”

“Colt?” she repeated, testing it like a flavor on her tongue. “That’s cool. You look like a Colt. Or like, maybe a Raiden. Nah, Colt fits. You give off mysterious outlaw who cries in the rain vibes.”

“I don’t cry,” Colt muttered, tail flicking.

“Yet,” she replied, winking.

Then, a few minutes passed in surprisingly companionable silence. Marie leaned against a pile of scrap, silent and still, eyes on the horizon. Colt, finishing the not-juice, leaned back—

“WaitwaitWAIT—” Jessie suddenly squealed.

Colt blinked. “What—?”

He hadn’t even noticed his tail curl behind her until it lifted her effortlessly off the ground.

“AAAAAAAAAAA—” Jessie squeaked like a feral chihuahua being abducted by God. “Colt I AM SO LIGHT I FEEL LIKE A BALLOON—this is the best day of my LIFE—MARIE LOOK—!”

Marie did not react.

Colt sighed, gripping his drink. “You’re… not heavy.”

“Damn right I’m not!” Jessie called down, arms flopping at her sides like a ragdoll. “I’m portable! Functional! Efficient! This is awesome—Colt, you’re officially my favorite space stranger.”

Ann chirped in what might’ve been robotic laughter.

Marie tilted his head slightly. “…You are going to put her down, yes?” he asked, voice low and tinny, almost sarcastic.

“Eventually,” Colt said flatly, holding her upside down with practiced ease.

Jessie, still dangling midair, beamed. “This is why I love random junkyard break-ins.”

The junkyard was quieter now. The sun had dipped behind the rusted metal towers, casting long shadows and throwing the world into a reddish haze. Colt stood, dusting off his pants, tail flicking once behind him in preparation to leave.

Jessie practically sprang to her feet.

“Wha—no! C’mon, Colt, stay a little longer!” she pleaded, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “All my commissions are done! I got snacks! And bombs to test! It’s a full day!”

Colt gave her a look—half amused, half exhausted. “I just met you.”

“So? You’re cool. And your tail’s my new favorite vehicle.”

Colt exhaled slowly through his nose. “I visited a friend. That’s all. I’ll swing by in the afternoon.”

“Waitwaitwait—who’s the friend? Are they cooler than us? Is their tail cooler than yours?” she jabbered, trotting after him. “Do they have snacks?”

Colt didn’t answer.

Ann, who’d been circling overhead, dropped suddenly in front of him like a tiny metallic goblin. With a soft click, a compartment in its side opened—and a claw arm slowly unfolded, twitching like it was preparing to perform surgery or theft.

Colt stared at it, eyes narrowing. “…Terrifying.”

Ann chirped in what might have been pride.

Colt sighed and—before Jessie could latch onto his leg like a gremlin begging for one more game—he reached out, wrapped his arms around her midsection, and tossed her with minimal effort straight into a nearby pile of pillows and blankets.

“WH—” fwump!

Jessie landed face-first with a muffled “Oof!!” and a laugh that wouldn’t stop.

Marie, still leaning quietly against a stack of broken solar panels, didn’t flinch. “…You have good form.”

Colt muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “She’s lighter than a crate of bolts.”

Ann zipped forward, hovering by his shoulder. The little assassin-bot extended its claw and gave him a single, deliberate pat on the arm. Not aggressive. Not mockery. Just… acknowledgment.

Colt raised a brow, then gave the thing a gentle pat in return.

“See you freaks later,” he called, raising a hand as he made his way toward the junkyard’s front gates, tail swaying behind him.

“BYE COLT,” Jessie shouted, still sprawled out, grinning into a pillow. “BRING SNACKS NEXT TIME OR I’LL STEAL YOUR SHOES.”

Marie watched Colt disappear into the horizon, the faint hum of wind catching his coat. Then he turned slightly toward Jessie.

“You are not actually going to steal his shoes, correct?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jessie mumbled.

The Next Day, Afternoon — Colt returns to the Junkyard

Colt dropped from the ledge of a cracked support beam, landing with a heavy thud that made the fruit vendor flinch.

The market buzzed around him—metallic awnings creaked, sun-faded tarps fluttered, someone was yelling about fake coolant again. Colt moved through it like a ghost in a crowd: tall, quiet, and giving off enough “do not engage” energy to keep the hawkers at bay.

He really shouldn’t be doing this.

This wasn’t supposed to be a thing. Visiting a junkyard crew of chaotic weirdos with pillows, claws, and robot men? No thanks.

But Wildfire had grinned, waved a spicy skewer in his face, and said, “They’re loud, yeah, but they’ve got heart. Good kind of freaks.”

Colt didn’t know why he listened to her so much. But he was here now.

He paused at a stall, grabbing a bag of strange dried snacks that looked like sun-toasted beetles. Jessie liked weird junk. Then—after hesitating—he grabbed a bottle of ale. The merchant raised an eyebrow.

“You got friends now, big guy?”

Colt didn’t answer. Just dropped the credits and kept moving.

—————————

By the time he returned to the junkyard, the sun was glaring over the scrap heaps. The gate creaked open like it knew him now.

Jessie was on the roof. Or… what passed for a roof: some overlapping metal sheets duct-taped to scaffolding. She waved a long metal pole like a flag.

“COLT!” she yelled, nearly slipping off the edge. “YOU CAME BACK! I KNEW IT.”

Colt tossed the snacks up. She missed them. Ann, with perfect timing, zoomed by and caught the bag in its claw like a graceful, demonic hummingbird.

Marie was sitting in the shadow of a half-crushed truck, silently filing the edge of a blade. He watched Colt approach, scanning him like a machine that never really turned off.

“You’re back,” Marie said flatly.

Colt shrugged. “Got bored.”

Jessie leapt from the roof with all the grace of a malfunctioning cannonball, landing near them with a dusty thump. She held up the snack bag triumphantly. “Gift accepted. You may live another day.”

“I also brought this,” Colt muttered, holding out the bottle of ale. Jessie’s eyes widened, and she gasped like he’d proposed marriage.

“For me?! You do love me.”

“It’s for me,” Colt deadpanned.

“Oh. Well, I’ll drink with you anyway.”

Marie’s eyes glinted. “This makes you the first to bring offerings. Jessie will never forget this.”

Colt sat down on a crate, leaned back, and cracked the bottle open. “Great.”

Jessie plopped down beside him, Ann hovering just behind her like a curious drone child. Marie resumed sharpening his weapon but kept an eye on them.

Colt took a sip, looked around the scrap heap… then muttered under his breath.

“…Bunch of freaks.”

Jessie grinned wide, mouth full of beetle snacks. “Damn right.”

Weeks Later — Junkyard Routine

“Hold still, I swear I’ll staple your tail to the wall.”

Jessie’s voice was muffled behind a tangle of wires, scanning tools, and the faint hum of a repurposed med-drone now dubbed “Shakey” for obvious reasons. Colt sat hunched over on the reinforced bench Marie had fixed last week, his long tail twitching just enough to make Jessie hiss.

“This thing flicks every time I get a clear reading!” she grumbled.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Colt replied, holding a hand of cards with a casual boredom that clearly enraged his opponent.

Ann, perched across from him on a dented toolbox, chittered in binary frustration. The little bot had just thrown its third losing hand to the floor, cards fluttering like trash in the wind.

“Again?” Colt said with faux surprise. “That’s eight in a row.”

Ann extended a claw. Two middle digits flipped up in an unmistakable gesture.

Jessie burst out laughing. “That’s the closest thing to salt I’ve ever seen from it. Good job, Colt—you’ve traumatized my assassin-bot.”

Colt smirked and gave Ann a card to chew on.

Across the yard, Marie had settled into the shade, quietly polishing the handle of a blade that hadn’t been used in weeks. His gaze lingered briefly on Colt, but it lacked the cold scan of their first encounter. The assessments had stopped. No more pat-downs. No more long silences where Colt felt like he was being dissected by a computer behind those faintly glowing eyes.

He was no longer a threat. Just… part of the weird furniture.

“Your tail’s definitely laced with something reactive,” Jessie muttered, eyes narrowed at the scan feed. “The tension spikes when you get agitated. Could be muscle memory. Or trauma. Or both. Mind if I—”

“Jess,” Colt said, not looking up, “don’t ask me how I got it.”

She went quiet for a second. Then she softly nudged his shoulder with a wrench. “Wasn’t gonna.”

Marie looked over, just once, and then resumed cleaning. He didn’t comment.

Ann buzzed, then threw a fresh card into Colt’s face like a declaration of war.

Colt caught it between two fingers, smirk still in place.

“I’m gonna win again.”

Ann’s claw lit up with a faint electric crackle.

Jessie grinned behind her mess of scanners, goggles pushed up. “Play nice, you two. Don’t make me turn Ann into a lamp.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst fate,” Colt said, laying down a perfect hand.

Ann screamed.

Normal day.. ish

The junkyard gate creaked open like it was being apologetic.

Jessie looked up from her half-assembled plasma guitar—yes, guitar—blinked once, then grinned wide as the tall, slightly limping figure sauntered in like he hadn’t vanished for three damn weeks.

Colt.

Covered in dust. Shirt torn at the shoulder. Bite marks—canine, again—on one arm. A wrapped burn on his ribs. And in his free hand?

Snacks.

He dropped the bag on the bench like a man delivering sacred offerings.

“Don’t say anything,” Colt grunted, collapsing onto the nearest pile of not-so-suspiciously-placed pillows. “I saw Wildfire, things got weird, someone brought a dog with three mouths, and I got shot by accident.”

Jessie: “…”

Colt, already settling in: “It was a love bullet.”

Jessie lost it.

“You can’t just say that like it explains anything!” she howled, half-laughing, half-concerned, and already digging through the snack pile for her favorite over-salted spacernuts. “Did you bring me anything new?”

Colt tossed a pink mystery drink at her. “Probably poison. You like those.”

“Hell yeah I do.”

As they bickered, Ann launched itself at Colt’s tail like it had been trained for tail combat. The limb swerved, caught Ann mid-air, and began casually tossing the little bot like a squeaky toy. Ann screamed and flailed in delighted rage.

Across the yard, Marie stood silent beneath the shade of the metal awning, arms folded. He didn’t greet Colt. Didn’t need to. Their version of “hello” was a nod, a mutual understanding, and occasionally syncing up to stop Jessie from testing rocket boots indoors.

Which she was absolutely planning to do. Again.

“You two are really gonna stop me from doing it?” Jessie called over, as she poked at the schematics on her tablet. “C’mon, Colt, it’s low yield! Marie said it was technically safe!”

Colt flopped sideways, tossing Ann onto the table with a clank.

“We said it was technically safe for a crash dummy. You’re not a dummy. Mostly.”

“I am a dummy. Let me fly.”

Marie stepped forward, one slow, deliberate foot at a time. He reached down, picked up the rocket boots, and tossed them onto a high shelf neither of them could reach.

Jessie threw a wrench at his head. Marie didn’t flinch.

Colt finally laughed.

The sound was rare, and Marie turned at the noise—something unfamiliar, not programmed. Maybe even contagious.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Marie said quietly.

Colt tilted his head. “You say that like you didn’t scan for vitals when I walked in.”

Marie didn’t deny it.

Jessie leaned back on the bench with a dramatic sigh, chewing on space jerky. “You two are like my two giant scary dads. With better hair. You know that, right?”

Marie: “Incorrect.”

Colt: “Disturbing.”

Ann: (high-pitched warble of agreement)

Jessie just smiled. Because whether or not they said it out loud, they were here. They always came back. And for this junkyard of patched-up robots, runaway acrobats, and muttering giants with bruised knuckles and soft hearts—

That was enough

[luthien-black]

Starting to introduce in depth some of my OCs, I will bring more as the time goes and I make them proper ref sheets... First I decided to redo my Cats OC ref sheet. I also changed some things such as her paws that now look like actual cat paws instead of human feet and hands... I just did that 'cause it's easier for me to draw paws than hands LOL Does that makes Miyela a furry? LOL IDC TBH I also added fluff to her shoulders just because... Oh, since you're still here reading this, lemme talk more about her so you can know her a bit better, alright? Miyela is part of the Jellicles, but she ain't no stray cat. Being part of Old Duteronomy's numerous progeny, she was adopted by a witch who lives near the Junkyard and was in touch with the occult arts since she was a kitty. She's a very sweet and gentle Queen, who uses her witchcraft knowledge to protect her fellow Jellicles. One curiosity about her is that she is the only Queen who doesn't fall for Rum-Tum-Tugger's charm, for her heart belongs to another Jellicle Tom.

Here's an old picture of her with her human hands and feet and no fluff, but it still being our good and old Miyela. She and Munkustrap looking like they’re having a blast! lol! I’m so freaking proud of these poses! ❤️❤️

Now here's Miyela doing the infamous Jack-O crouch… I couldn’t think of a more flexible OC of mine to do such pose lol.

The toms in the back have nothing to complain about… u.u well, maybe Misto

[girlwiththegreenhat]

hey when they wrote "knight behind bars" and they wrote kitt helping a couple get together and they gave him the line "Some day, it will be my turn" [to find love]. did they know what they were doing. did they know that in some 40 years some gay autistic robot-obsessed little freak on tumblr would not stop thinking about it for weeks and write literal dozens of paragraphs screaming about it on discord. did they know they were going to ruin Me, Specifically, with this concept that feels like the culmination of everything kitt has gone through through the show and such a fascinating thing to think about in regards to michael and kitt's relationship,

one of the themes of knight rider is kitt developing as a Person, developing a line between the Knight Industries Two-Thousand, and Kitt. discovering humanity, his own emotions, the joys of the seemingly and logically pointless, and often through the lens of his own driver, his partner, his friend, Michael - his primary guide through all these experiences, his reference for those human things he doesn't understand. and as much as he initially claims to not be capable of experiencing emotions, of understanding feelings, he learns to. he experiences a wide range of emotions through the show even while claiming he doesn't, he even learns fear and insecurity. perhaps it's only natural a robot would learn to love, or at the very least be terribly curious about it and wonder if such a thing could ever exist for Him

the majority of people are not exactly kind to kitt. they talk about him like he's not there, they talk about him like he's a machine, a novelty, some people are even scared of or disturbed by him when all he's trying to do is make polite conversation and company. he's always Othered - there's no other cars like him (at least not anymore), but there's no other person like him either, he doesn't truly belong among humans or vehicles. some of the technicians at FLAG don't even seem to fully respect him as a person, at least they don't based on my vague recollection of how they talk about him in Junkyard Dog. when Michael asks him after KARR is destroyed if it feels good to be one of a kind again, he doesn't say yes or no - he only says it's a "familiar feeling." it may be familiar, but it's surely also isolating, and i think that's something he'd realize as he slowly picks up this curiosity about love. where could he even find it when so few people see him as an equal person to begin with?

and then there's michael. oh my god, and then there's michael. no matter what flavor you choose to read it in, the whole show is about their relationship, they're a duo, a set Not to be separated, they're Partners. they work together, they worry about and look after each other (forever insane about when kitt was a melted shell, Michael stuck around the garage for hours, waiting for any news like a worried spouse, constantly checking on him every opportunity he got... encouraging him to recover, and even helping paint back on his protective coating... kitt always looks after michael, but for once, it's michael's turn to look after Him), in a way they were Made for each other - Kitt more literally, being programmed for Michael and holding his namesake, but Michael was also made in a sense for the pilot program, hand picked and given a second life to work for the foundation and with this strange supercar. and even if they had a rocky start, michael comes to view kitt as a person - car, TV set, or computer core, Kitt is his partner, his buddy. he helps him find himself, guides him and teaches him about these things that make us human, and in a way, kitt becomes human - but his entire experience is still through the perspective of an AI in a car, it's still very unique and isolating, and I think he sort of grows into his own limitations, he's finally brushing against the walls that define him.

he learns of love, and then he learns to dream Of love. these things he sees in the movies, that michael tells him about, that he so often sees michael Partaking in that he gets so oddly jealous of, doesn't it all seem so wonderful? he's very curious. but who could ever love steel and circuitry, who could ever see him as an equal let alone a partner in a romantic sense? who would ever love a car and all the limitations That comes with? it's a problem for a hypothetical hopeful Some Day, in the meantime stuck between two worlds where he doesn't perfectly belong to either, where no car Can love him and no human seemingly Would love him...

and michael loves him anyway. before either of them really realize or talk about it, in spite of everything, in any form, regardless of the fact it wouldn't be a typical relationship by absolutely any means, michael loves him anyway. kitt is as much a person to him as bonnie or devon or RC, and that person is someone he loves and cares for deeply. the feeling is mutual, kitt's world revolves around michael, he's one of the most important people in kitt's life, and he'd do anything to protect him.

and it is michael that will finally teach him to love, and what it means to feel loved in turn, to be loved as the person he undoubtedly is.

[tornoleander]

Jay’s been through it

CW: Sexual assault Implications brief discussion of sexual predators + lotta swearing

(Please let me know if I missed any content warnings and Check if you are ok to hear this theory before reading. This type content has potential to help or hurt you depending on who you are as is the nature of problematic themes. Safety over curiosity.)

This is cannon compliment. Uhh kids show?! Yeah I know shouldn’t really have these themes but they’re there hear me out. Spoilers for season 6/8 I guess.

I’m bothered by this scene and how It connect to certain events so I’ll cautiously share

Sons of Garmadon Episode 7:

Here is the clip

Kelo asks “Where’s the green Ninja”

WHAT THE FUCK! Dude the double take I had when first watching this.

So he looked at Kelo’s… lower half and basically said ‘Cole shut up that man’s crotch is too close’. And not in Jay joking tone, he’s like dead serious and stressed. (The scene just cuts away after)

Jay you ok? Why is it implied some guy might have tried something?! Why else would he say that?! Who the FUCK touched my boi? What even is this scene?!

The fact it’s Jay that said it out of everyone is bad because it’s been implied to him before.

So let’s talk about the darkest Ninjago theory that’s been quietly circulating for a while in fan content. For simplicity I’ll call it captains quarters theory, If you’re unfamiliar I’ll explain.

Basically some speculation happened because of a certain villain that displayed subtle ongoing predatory behavior. And a part when Jay was his prisoner that caused people to worry what happened before the scene started.

As some of you have caught on It’s the scene where Cole rescues Jay from Misfortunes Keep.

He didn’t find Jay in his cell where he should have.

Cole found him beaten as ninjago has ever depicted except when literally dying.

Alone

no explanation given.

In the corner of Captains Quarters.

Nadakhan’s room.

Dude :(

And his concern afterwards.

And thinking he didn’t deserve saving.

“Thank you for trying to save me,-

It’s Just a lot.

Doing awful things to make Jay wish it all away is terrifyingly in Nadakhan’s character. Not just the sadistic torture part.

Nadakhan has many behaviors similar to a sexual predator. I’ll go over it briefly but see my last post for a detailed analysis.

He Seeks out vulnerable people for victims. The Ninja are teens and he waits till or makes them emotionally vulnerable. The way he talks about gifting his wishes and giving his victims anything they desire can be read as grooming behavior. His secrecy in getting all the ninja alone and doesn’t even talk to his crew about his plans. Manipulative and Controlling obviously.

And the most glaring issues he’s WAY tooo fucking touchy all the time. Like watch his body language during Skybound and see how uncomfortable it is

“Too slow junkyard boy”

Not to mention how explicitly he doesn’t care about consent….

And “If you don’t come willingly Nya, I will take you regardless” followed by a forced marriage.

Side note he doesn’t refers to Jay with his name and the things he calls him…uggh “What lies is our little canary whistling now, hmm?”

So… It’s cannon compliant that something was attempted or happened to Jay. Bruh wtf.

Well if you feel like you resonate with this or it may help there a few great fanworks that explore this I can recommend if interested. Mmm comfort angst.

(Note don’t bother anyone for enjoying Nadakhan as a character. It’s fiction and it hurts no one)

[multiverse--wanderer]

You Are My Quarter Mile | Dom x Brian (Fast and Furious) [ENG]

[Fan-fiction based on the OTP between Dominic Toretto and Brian O'Conner (Fast and Furious) With gasoline in their veins and living life on the road on the wrong side of the law, Dominic Toretto's life will take a complete turn with the arrival of Brian O'Conner. When the heart comes into play, there's no possible handbrake for the soul.

...

REMINDER:

This story has been written in Spanish, which is my native language. This story has been translated to the best of my ability, although it is possible that it may have mistakes.

This is just a way to transport my writing to a common language for the rest of fans like me. For a better immersion, I recommend reading the story in its original version.

You can find this story on Wattpad and Archive of Our Own.

Thank you so much for reading me and see you in the stars.

...

Chapter 3 - He owns you now

The morning sun warmed the asphalt in front of Dominic Toretto's shop, where engines roared and the smell of burnt oil and gasoline filled the air. Brian arrived driving an old van, its engine purring softly, with a trailer hitched behind. It had been a week since the last time they saw each other, a tense week after the events of that night when the lines between duty and loyalty began to blur. This time, Brian brought something special, although it didn't look like it at first glance.

In the trailer, a battered car swayed slightly with the bumps in the road. It was dented all over, covered in dirt, with no windows, and stains of grease and gasoline soaked into its chassis. Beneath the layer of dust, the red color tried to shine faintly, like a reminder of better times. The vehicle seemed more like a lost cause than a promise, but Brian wore a smile painted on his face, radiating an almost irritating confidence.

As he stopped in front of the shop, the team started to approach with curiosity and barely hidden amusement. Dominic came out after arguing with Mia about some bills, wearing his usual oil-stained white tank top and worn military sweatpants, wiping his hands with a rag he tossed aside without much ceremony. His gaze, stern and intense, quickly shifted to Brian, completely ignoring the car in the trailer.

—Great... —Dominic muttered as Brian hopped out of the driver's seat. With a mix of disbelief and mockery, he asked—, What the hell is this? What do you got there?

Brian's smile widened. His blue eyes, even brighter under the tan of his skin, sparkled with a mix of pride and defiance. Dominic couldn't help but notice the fresh scars peeking out from under the short sleeves of his shirt. Brian looked battered and yet strangely happy, as if he'd returned from a fight holding the trophy in his hand.

—This is your car. —Brian extended his hands toward the battered vehicle. Dom burst into a melodic laugh.

A deep, loud laugh that echoed through the shop. Johnny, who had come out behind him, walked up to the car and gave the hood a couple of sharp taps, which made it tremble under his hands as if it were about to crumble into sand.

—My car? I told you a ten-second car, beautiful, not a ten-minute one.

—This one crosses the finish line by pushing it. —Letty muttered, causing Mia to laugh.

—It won't even cross it being towed —Dominic added, though his eyes remained fixed on Brian, a mix of reproach and curiosity in his gaze.

Brian raised his eyebrows, still smiling, as if he were enjoying the others' disbelief.

—No faith?

Brian almost seemed offended, but his mischievous grin dispelled any doubts.

—Oh, I have faith in you, —Dominic replied, crossing his arms— but this isn't a junkyard, it's a garage.

—Alright. Pop the hood. —Brian ordered, moving toward the trailer to release the fastenings.

—Pop the hood?! —Johnny frowned, but couldn't resist the curiosity.

—Pop it and then tell me.

With effort, they took the car off the trailer and brought it into the shop. Under the lights of the lamps, the vehicle looked even worse, but Brian didn't seem concerned. He pointed at the hood, insisting. When they opened it, a murmur of surprise swept through the group. Under the dust and dirt, a perfectly preserved JZ-2 engine gleamed, a treasure buried in a rusted coffin.

—Shit... —Johnny whispered, wiping some parts of the engine with a rag to reveal the technical engravings. Dominic watched in silence—. JZ-2 engine... Damn...

—And what did I tell you? —Brian asked, with a triumphant smile, looking directly at Dominic.

—I retract my previous statement. —Dominic nodded, making a face.

—You know what? It'll beat everyone else after investing about 15,000 dollars in it, or even more if we urgently need to import parts. —Johnny said, tossing a rag over his shoulder.

—We'll put it on my tab at Harry's —Dom said—. We need you back in the race to make some money, Brian. —His voice softened slightly, though his gaze remained intense—. There's a challenge in the desert racing war. This car will be ready by then.

He smiled at him in a special, confident way. Mia, who was watching the scene, smiled to herself, understanding what that silent look meant to Dom.

Brian nodded, feeling a mix of pride and gratitude that he tried to hide behind his carefree smile. Dominic stepped closer, coming within inches of him, his presence imposing.

—I'll tell you what. —Dominic stopped near Brian's body, turning to face the rebellious driver's gaze. Brian felt pride as he sensed his approval, his attention focused on him. —When you're not working for Harry's, you're working here. If you can't find the right tool in this garage, Mr. Arizona... you don't belong near a car.

Brian held his gaze, not backing down, and nodded. There was something about Dominic's intensity that made him feel alive, like he was in the most dangerous race of his life. When Dominic stepped away, leaving a charged silence in his wake, Mia approached. With a knowing smile, she whispered in his ear:

—He owns you now.

The workshop was buzzing with activity. Amid laughter and technical discussions, everyone was collaborating to move the necessary parts to the work area, where the battered car would transform into a worthy racing contender. The engine, the shock absorbers, the brakes, and even the smallest components passed from hand to hand, while the tools resonated like a chaotic orchestra, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of grease and hot metal.

Brian, after making sure everything was in place, headed to Johnny's small office, a sort of technological sanctuary amidst the roar of the engines. The space was crowded with monitors, cables, and electronic parts scattered across the desk. A worn-out poster of a classic Formula 1 race hung on the wall, next to a bulletin board filled with diagrams and scribbled notes.

Johnny, who had already turned on his computer, smiled as Brian walked in. Silently, Brian pulled a small CD from his jacket pocket and inserted it into the computer's disc tray. The screen came to life with graphics and 3D models of the car, as if they were watching the dilapidated vehicle come back to life before their eyes.

—What do you think of this? —Johnny asked, pressing a key enthusiastically. The image of the car slowly rotated on the screen, showing the modifications he had in mind. "Adjustable shock absorbers—. They'll save us a kilo. —He smiled, proud of his technical precision—. And they'll give us better traction to secure the win.

Brian leaned toward the screen after sitting at a small wooden table behind Johnny, observing the details with interest. Johnny navigated through various schematics, pointing out key components and their proposed upgrades.

—Okay, this is the basic design of the car. —Johnny explained, as a simpler image of the vehicle appeared on the screen. He pressed another key, and the image changed, showing a much more streamlined and aerodynamic version—. And this is the design it could have once it's finished. The colors can be changed.

Brian let out a low whistle, impressed by the level of detail and Johnny's creative vision.

—You should go to a specialized university. —He said, looking at him in amazement.

Johnny laughed, leaning back in his swivel chair as if the idea were a recurring joke.

—Yeah, I should... —he admitted, with a nostalgic smile that quickly turned pensive—. But I have that... what's it called? Attention deficit...

—ADHD? —Brian asked, raising an eyebrow.

—That! —Johnny exclaimed, laughing lightly—. That damn thing. It's always messed with my focus. Look, I was good at math, especially algebra. I could solve anything they put in front of me. But everything else... I failed. History, English, even science. I dropped out when I was, I don't know... fifteen or sixteen.

He paused, staring at the computer screen as if he were seeing something beyond the graphics. His fingers drummed involuntarily on the table.

—I don't know... Motors have something that calms me down. —He whispered, more to himself than to Brian—. You know? It's like everything clicks. When I look at an engine, there's no chaos, no noise. It's pure math. Every piece has a place, a purpose. I like that.

Brian watched him closely, sensing the genuine passion in Johnny's words. There was something in that confession that felt familiar, something that resonated with his own relationship with cars and racing.

—Yeah, I get it —he said finally—. It's like being in a race. Everything is clear. Nothing matters more than the next second.

Johnny nodded, smiling. Then, he turned his attention back to the computer, moving the mouse to make adjustments to the design.

—Well, genius —Brian said after a moment, getting up from his seat and giving Johnny's shoulders a couple of pats—. Tell me what you need to turn this from just a pretty drawing into a reality.

...

CONTINUE READING THE FULL CHAPTER HERE:

[fernsnailz]

Out of curiosity, have you done much with your junkyard phantom characters since posting about them a few months ago?

ummmmm not a whole lot ! these past few months have been grueling for me 💀 BUT THEY ARE STILL ON MY MIND... SO MUCH

the most i've worked on is outlines of their various stories, which may or may not ever come to fruition. but i miss them so bad and have so many theoretical and potential plans for them and it's driving me crazy

[boborock789]

“ It all started out as a mild curiosity in the junkyard, and now it's turned out to be quite a great spirit of adventure!”

[doctorwhommm]

🛸 it all started out as a mild curiosity in a junkyard …. 🛸

(open for higher quality)

[lowres720]

Bunny and the Junkyard dog

I'd love feedback for this, I mostly write and post on my days off which arent always the same each week, BUT when I do itll be a couple chapters at a time until i get slightly burnt out at my computer lol. ALSO~ im still new to the tumblr format (sorry if its bad) I do most if not all my writing in physical notebooks or on Word. I also welcome any prompts or requests for Wrestlers past present and different companies (¬‿¬) I simp for all things wrestling

Chapter 2! Thats him

Three Months.

That’s how long it had been since her last real mistake.

Not a trip. Not a flubbed sequence. Not even a delayed reaction. For three months straight, she’d hit her marks, landed her spots, and made it backstage without once needing to bury her face in a towel and wish she were anywhere else.

She hadn’t even cried.

Not once.

That was new.

Even her matches were starting to stretch longer she wasnt forced to be in squashed segments buried between title promos and filler. She was getting a few extra minutes. A false finish here. A rest hold there. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

The locker room noticed.

Not loudly. Not in a way that overwhelmed her. But with the smallest acknowledgments that carried weight.

A thumbs up from Kaitlyn here, there an approving glance from Natalya after a crisp clothesline.

And once even more shocking Seth Rollins walking past her at catering and said, “That dropkick was clean, bunny.” Then kept walking like he hadn’t said a thing.

Bunny.

She’d heard it before.

A good amount of times now.

Once from a makeup artist when Y/N had flinched after a sneeze behind her chair. Once from a ref in the ring after she bumped like she’d been shot from a cannon. And of course Punk and AJ coined the term first.

“Little bunny,” someone always murmured.

She wasn’t sure she liked it. I mean she wasn’t even sure if she hated it either. Dean had noticed. Not right away. Not until the first night he caught himself watching her match a little longer than necessary from gorilla.

Not until he heard Seth’s comment in passing and realized he had started using that nickname in his head, too.

He didn’t like that. Not because she didn’t deserve it no(of course not), the opposite, actually. It was because he’d already started noticing her far too much.

She was quiet. Twitchy. Soft around the edges in a world that filed those down with time. Her gear was simple, her face fresh, her voice still so faint it had to be mic’d twice for backstage promos.

But now she was focused. She honestly felt like something was shifting.

She hit the ropes cleaner. Her footwork was tighter. She didn’t flinch every time a crowd got too loud or a pyro fired early. She still plugged her ears from time to time but was adapting. Evolving. Like a half-buried ember being coaxed into a flame.

Dean didn’t miss much.

Especially not that. Seeing her like some sad little creature that for whatever reason he felt inclined to want to protect.

It bothered him how much he was watching her now.

At first, he’d chalked it up to curiosity. He had a nose for raw talent. He could spot people on the edge of a break before they even knew it themselves. Roman and Seth called it “feral dog instinct.”

But this wasn’t instinct. This was interest. A veryyyy unwelcome interest. Because he had Renee.

She was everything stable and sharp in his life. A grounding wire when his brain spiraled too hard into chaos. She made things make sense at least for a while she had.

Lately, that wasn’t as true. Not that he’d want to admit it or bring it up with her.

He still cared for her. Of course he did. But there was a space between them now. A silence. She was traveling more, working more, filming more out in LA. They FaceTimed. They texted here and there when she would actually manage an answer past a few words. But something about it all felt sadly hollow. Like punching a bruise. Familiar. Still tender.

Still there.

So he did what he always did he buried it. Focused on the job. Let the ring be his therapy. His bloodletting.

Except now, there was her.

Y/N had started warming up differently before matches.

Gone were the nervous pacing and anxious shoe-tying. Now she stretched with purpose. Loosened her shoulders. Tuned out the noise with earbuds tucked beneath a hoodie that still swallowed her frame. There was always some new song that she was bumping loud enough to blow out her ear drums if she wasnt careful, but it made her feel secure and locked in.

She still didn’t talk much. From what Dean saw at least, she had her group and stuck to it, it was like she had a sign on her back that said "unknowns not welcome".

But even with that invisible sign people no longer mistook that silence for fear.

That was the difference.

Punk had noticed. He nodded at her after every match now. Mostly smirking or casually mentioning being able to hear the songs he recommended her blasting in the halls from her earbuds. Sometimes bumped her shoulder lightly with his arm when she passed in the hallway.

Roman noticed too.

He’d started calling her “kiddo” now and again. A smile tugging at his lips when she offered a nod in return, or on rare days her little child like wave. When Dean saw the wave he asked Roman why she still does that and Roman just shrugged.

She wasn’t quite one of the boys. Wasn’t one of the girls, either. She hovered in between. Floating. Watching. Adapting.

A bunny in the wolves den.

Dean didn’t approach her. He really couldn't, not yet. But every time she passed, giving him a tiny wave or half smile he felt it. A tug. An itch. Something just beneath his skin.

And he didn’t like that either.

The next time he watched her match from gorilla, it was different.

She was tagging with Kaitlyn in a throwaway filler match against Alicia and Tamina. Nothing flashy. Not much story. Just time to fill before the main event. But she worked like it mattered.

Dean found himself leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees, chewing at the corner of his thumb. She bumped for Tamina like she was being launched off a building. Took the comeback like a pro. Timed her hot tag perfectly.

And then he didn’t know why he noticed this—when she rolled out of the ring after the final spot, she caught herself on the apron, exhaled, and whispered something. the same thing she always says if she misses something or slips up

One word. Mierda!(shit!)

He couldn’t hear it. Couldn't even start to guess what she could have said. But her lips moved like it was familiar.

Like second nature. He didn’t say a word that night. Didn’t linger. But he found himself at catering later than usual, just as she was scooping plain rice and grilled chicken onto her tray.

He watched her from behind a vending machine as she took the same seat she always took far far right corner of the room, back against the wall.

Two bites in, Punk dropped into the seat across from her.

“Better balance this time,” he muttered through a mouthful of protein bar. “You’re learning not to oversell the shoulder.”

Her brow raised. “I truly was trying but its not perfect yet, sorry"

Punk narrowed his eyes tilting his head to the side

“You know you really gotta stop apologizing for getting better. Just own it Buns”

She ducked her head. But she finally smiled a real smile. "I hate when youre right Philly" "Is this were I finally get to say that I'm just the Best in the World line? Or should I spare you today?" He smirked, she laughed. Dean left before they saw him. But he didn’t forget the way she beamed.

He didn’t forget the way it made something tight in his chest slightly chip open.

The following week, her name was printed on the run sheet again and this time in a three-segment arc that ended in a backstage beatdown by an up-and-coming heel faction.

It was the most screentime she’d gotten yet.

It also meant she had to sell. Hard. Dean found himself standing beside the director by the time the segment rolled around, arms crossed, brows drawn.

The other girls circled her. Taunts flying. Then came the shove. Then the kick. The camera caught her flinch like perfection. Like she hadn’t seen it coming, but her body remembered.

She went down like a ragdoll. Curling in. Shoulders trembling just enough to look real.

Dean’s jaw clenched to him it looked a little too real. But when the camera cut, she stood slowly, nodded to the others, and brushed herself off. "Next time maybe dont step on my hair please?" she laughed bitterly before adjusting her hair clips leaving her wincing and rubbing her head where the hair really pulled from her scalp.

She was fine on all accounts the hair pulling wouldnt be the end of the world but it still hurt more than taking a quick chop.

He turned to leave. But not before Punk appeared beside him like some kind of goddamned ghost.

“She’s good, huh?” Punk muttered.

Dean looked sideways at him before he shrugged. “She’s gettin’ better.”

“Mm.” Punk smirked. “Noticed you’ve been watchin’.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah? And what of it Punk?”

“ Hey whoaa no judgment, man.” Punk held his hands up. “Just keep it where it belongs, yeah?”

Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. That night in the hotel, he lay awake too long. He’d FaceTimed Renee earlier. They talked about her shoot schedule. About a new suit she wanted him to wear for an upcoming press gig when he said he didnt want to she ignored him and kept talking.

It was fine.

But when they hung up, he didn’t feel anything but the static hum in his chest. Not guilt. Not longing. She didnt even bother to say "Love you" at the end of the call, just something about getting another call.

Dean felt a harsh static. He rubbed his face. Ran a hand through his hair.

Tried to sleep.

But instead, he thought of the way Y/N had sold that kick. The breath that left her body. The way her hand had curled slightly at her side like she was protecting something soft inside her ribs.

And then, dammit, he thought of her smile.

The one she gave Punk when she wasn’t scared of being seen.

He hadn’t seen that smile in person. Not yet still he wanted to way too much. Y/N felt the shift too.

She wasn’t stupid. She noticed the way the air changed when she passed certain people now. She noticed when Roman lingered a second longer in conversations with her and Seth. Times where she actually spoke full sentences around the shield. When Punk softened slightly around her, even as he barked advice the older brother in him kicking in full force around her.

And she noticed him.

Ambrose.

The one she’d never spoken to technically not directly. The one who’d never spoken to her but around her. In more of a group setting than anything, if she was tailing behind Roman on nights where she had more courage than anxiety.

But sometimes especially now when she glanced up across catering or locker rooms or hallways full of chaos….she found him already looking.

Eyes sharp. Expression unreadable. He didn’t hide it. Didn’t flinch when she caught him watching. He said nothing directly.

But his attention felt different than the others’. It wasn’t approval. It wasn’t affection. It was curiosity.

Not like that. Not dangerous. Not like the veterans who made her skin crawl when they cornered her by the water cooler.

No. Dean Ambrose looked at her like he didn’t know why he couldn’t stop.

Like he’d already decided to fight the urge.

But hadn’t fully committed to the war yet.

And that scared her.

Because she didn’t know what it meant to be wanted.

Not like that.

Not gently. Not wordlessly.

Not when you still didn’t even have the courage to say hello alone.

[aventurineswife]

Been watching a playthrough of LoZ Twilight Princess and I’m also super excited about the upcoming Okami 2 release.

Now I’m thinking about chimera!Reader, armed with little more than a dagger, running around on their own adventures, retrieving lost items, slaying monsters, rescuing people—

—and also running errands for pretty people like Castorice and Dan Heng~

Castorice: “Oh! You brought the silver pieces I wanted? Thank you!” 🥰

Dan Heng, receiving snuggles: 🤭 “Why are you so affectionate, little one?”

Meanwhile, the stinky Trailblazer is straight up ignored, hissed, scratched and bitten. Reader will complete their requests, but Trailblazer shouldn’t expect any developments between them. 🥶

Reader: 👀💢

Trailblazer: 🥲

Dan Heng: 😓 “Maybe…stop making them dig around through garbage.”

WAIT this idea is so good I can see it so clearly—

The Chimera!Reader is just this scrappy little adventurer, part cat, part myth, 100% determined, darting through towns and ruins with nothing but a half-rusted dagger, mad instincts, and way too much curiosity. They’re the kind of folklore NPC everyone swears they’ve seen at some point, usually when they’re in dire need—only for Reader to vanish again once the job’s done.

Castorice sees them first in passing and immediately starts giving them “requests” disguised as cute errands: “Oh! Could you fetch me that charm from the lake ruins? It’ll bring luck!” (It’s actually cursed, but she just wants to see if Reader is immune to everything like people say.)

Dan Heng doesn’t ask for help, but Reader just keeps appearing with things he needs before he says anything. A spare hair tie. A healing salve. A scroll he was searching for. And then they just curl up next to him, purring with a little tail flick like “I know you needed that.” He pretends to be confused but secretly saves every item they ever bring him. He's baffled by the affection but also—not complaining.

Meanwhile, Trailblazer:

TB: “Hey could you—"

Reader: already walking away

TB, optimistically: “I need five more scrap gears from the junkyard—”

Reader: HISSS

TB: “WHY—?!”

Dan Heng, barely glancing up: “Maybe don’t make them dig around through garbage.”

Reader, smugly curled in Dan Heng’s cloak: tail flicks with satisfaction

[sweet-villain]

Just Another Lie~ Part 1

Summary : Billy works in the mechanic shop with Eddie, Eddie Munson. But he hasn't told you. He kept it away from you while you moved on in your life to be a mother, to Billy Hargrove child. What happens when things get ugly?

Angst

Eddie had always been fascinated by cars since he was a young boy. He would spend hours watching his father tinker with engines and fix up old cars.

As he grew older, his love for cars only intensified, and he knew that becoming a mechanic was his true calling.

After graduating, Eddie wasted no time in pursuing becoming a mechanic.

He landed a job at a local auto repair shop and quickly proved himself to be a skilled and dedicated mechanic.

At the auto repair shop, Eddie's expertise was evident in the way he handled every car that came through the doors.

He had a natural knack for diagnosing and fixing any issue that a car may have.

Whether it was a simple oil change or a complex engine repair, Eddie approached each task with determination.His attention to detail and meticulous work ethic earned him a reputation as one of the best mechanics in town.

But he wasn’t the only one. He worked alongside someone he learned to tolerate. Someone who isn’t exactly he would call a friend of his. 

Billy Hargrove. 

He had a tough exterior and a bad-boy attitude that seemed to repel authority.

But deep down, Billy was just a lost soul trying to find his place in the world.

Growing up in a broken home, he never had a stable father figure to look up to, so he turned to his love for cars and mechanics as an escape. From a young age, Billy was fascinated by the inner workings of vehicles.

He would spend his weekends at the local junkyard, scavenging for spare parts and learning everything he could about engines and transmissions. It was his own little sanctuary, away from the chaos of his home life.

As Billy got older and started working odd jobs to make ends meet, he always found himself gravitating towards anything that involved cars.

Whether it was working at a gas station or helping out at a body shop, Billy was drawn to the mechanics and the thrill of fixing something broken and making it run like new again.

He had a natural talent for it, and it gave him a sense of purpose and control that he had never experienced before.

Eventually, Billy landed a job at the local mechanic shop, and it was there that he truly found his calling.

He was able to use his skills and knowledge to help people, to fix their cars and get them back on the road. And for the first time in his life, he felt like he was making a difference.

Billy tolerated working alongside Eddie Munson, the two didn’t see eye to eye in the past but things have changed and they have grown. The two sometimes helped the other out with certain cars that came into the shop. 

They both liked their job therefore they didn’t act out, cause any messes or push each other who gets to work on what car.

Eddie had been working on a car for what felt like hours. Every time he thought he had fixed the problem, the engine would sputter and die again.

Frustration was building as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned against the hood of the car.

He had planned to take it down the road now it seemed like that was not going to happen.

As he was lost in his thoughts, a little boy came walking up to him, his big blue eyes curious and filled with wonder. Eddie could not help but smile at the sight of the boy, who couldn't have been more than 7 years old.

The boy was holding a toy car in his hand and had a look of pure excitement on his face. 

The boy had a mass of blonde curls on top of his head, he had the brightest smile that Eddie has seen. 

'Hey mister, what are you doing?' the boy asked, his voice filled with innocent curiosity.

Eddie explained to the boy that his car wouldn't start and he was trying to fix it.

The boy's eyes widened in amazement as he watched Eddie tinker with the engine.

He was fascinated by all the tools and parts that Eddie was using, asking questions and trying to understand what each one was for. Eddie couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and nostalgia as he watched the boy's enthusiasm.

Where did the boy come from? Where were his parents? 

“ My daddy fixes cars, too!” the boy shouted with his hands in the air like two fist bumps. 

A pair of footsteps could be heard as Billy rounded the corner with his eyebrows knitted and a deep frown on his face as he looked around until he spotted the little boy. 

“ There you are, I’ve been wondering where you’ve run off too” Eddie’s eyes grew wide at the moment, noticing the same hair Billy has as the little boy. The little boy resembles Billy, a lot. A light bulb goes over his head as he understands where this boy came from. 

This was Billy’s son. 

“ Here I am, daddy!” the little boy cheered as he hopped up and down on his feet, giggling. Billy shook his head as he knelt down next to the boy and began to tickle him. The little boy laughed telling his dad to stop it otherwise he would pee his pants. 

Billy laughed. 

Eddie has never been like this, nor to anyone at all. It was new. Kinda nice too. 

Billy notices that Eddie has been watching this the whole time, he clears his throat and picks up the little boy. 

“ Sorry, Munson.” Billy tells him. “ Didn’t mean to bother” he adds as he looks at the car that doesn’t seem to want to start. Billy eyed it, and turned back to Eddie. 

“ Having trouble?” Eddie scratched the back of his neck and nodded his head. 

“ Daddy help! Daddy help!” the little boy tells Billy, “ You can do it” 

Eddie chuckles at the little boy and can’t help feeling a tad of sadness inside of him. He never got a chance to be a dad, one of many things he wanted in life. He never found the right person. 

There was someone in the past. But the past was the past. 

“ What is his name?” Billy was looking under the hood of the car to notice that Eddie had been talking to him. Eddie glances down at the boy, puts his rag over his shoulder and kneels down in front of the boy. 

“ What’s your name, little man?” 

“ Dino!” the little boy points out the dinosaur picture on his shirt as a reference. 

“ That’s really a cool name, little man. My name is Eddie” Eddie didn’t want to reach out to shake the little boy’s hand. Not because he didn’t want to. But he had grease on his hands and he hasn’t washed his hands yet. 

“ His name is Daniel,” Billy says, removing his head from under the hood. He had a smirk on his face meaning he figured out the problem before Eddie had. This was a game they played where one found the problem and would not tell the other. 

“ No, Dino” Daniel stomped his foot on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. “ Mommy calls me Dino” he stomped his foot again, not having his way. 

“ Dino” Billy nodded as he wiped his hands with the rag over his shoulder. “ Come on, Eddie here has work to do. He hasn’t even begun to look real hard to fix the problem..” 

“ You’re just going to leave me hanging, Hargrove?” Eddie huffed as he waved his hands around. “ Right now? It’s almost closing time.” 

Billy shrugged as he gently pushed onto his son’s back leading him to the office where Billy was going to give him a bowl of candy. Right before his mom would pick him up. 

As it was almost closing time, the window of the mechanic shop was foggy from the day. 

The bustling sounds of car engines being fixed and tools clanking against metal filled the air.

The smell of gasoline and oil lingered, but amidst all the chaos, a figure caught everyone's attention.

A beautiful woman with long flowing hair and a confident stride, walked into the shop with a purpose. Heads turned and conversations paused as all eyes were drawn to her. 

She seemed out of place in such a rough and dirty environment, but her determined expression showed that she was not one to be underestimated.

As she made her way towards the counter, the mechanics couldn't help but admire her grace and poise.

Some even stopped what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of her. She was like a breath of fresh air in a place filled with grease and grime.

As she approached the counter, she flashed a bright smile at the mechanic behind the desk and confidently stated her request.

She was picking up her son. The mechanic behind the counter blinked a couple of time and not comprehending what words were coming out her mouth, 

He tilted his head to the side as he eyed her. He couldn’t stop staring at how pretty she was and it annoyed her. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she sighed. 

“ Nevermind” she mumbled underneath her breath and looked around. She had no idea where her son would be or her ex boyfriend for that matter.

She had to run some errands today with her mom, begged Billy to take little Daniel to work and she would be back soon. 

Her boots hit the ground as she eyed under each car and hummed as she passed on the working cars in the shop.

The smell of gasoline hit her nose causing her to cover her mouth and nose with her sleeve as she continued her search. 

It wasn’t too long before she saw the mop of blonde curls knowing those shoulders too from afar and headed that way.

The little boy opening the tool cabinet and banging it shut perked her attention. A wide smile came to her face seeing her little boy was entertained. 

“ Oh, Dino…” she sang, removing her sleeve from her mouth.

The little blonde head turned and those big blue wide eyes stared at his mother with joy on his face, he dropped what he was doing and made a run to her.

She met him with open arms and lifted him up as she twirled with him in her arms. 

Little Daniel was giggling as he waved his arms, enjoying this. Billy had stopped what he was doing and laughed along with his son seeing the happiness on his son’s face. It always brought joy to him. 

“ Hi, mama,” Daniel greeted her. His mother gave him a squeeze to her chest as she happily peppered his cheeks with kisses. Daniel moved his face, giggling saying how icky it was. 

“ But you love my kisses,” his mother said. Billy’s heart clenched as he watched the scene in front of him wishing he could go back to the time he ended things and regrets it every day for letting you go.

You were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and you’ve given him something that he would die for, a reason to live and the main important thing in his life.

His son. Daniel. Dino. 

Daniel wiggled his mom's arms until she set him down. 

“ You have to meet my friend, Eddie,” her son tells her. His blue eyes widened in excitement. “ Can she, daddy?” he turns to look at his father in question, a small pout on his face that he knew his father would cave into. 

His mother wasn’t aware of who this Eddie was, but the name rang some familiar bells in her mind. She used to go to high school with Eddie. 

Daniel took his mom’s hand and led the way in excitement. 

“ Eddie! Eddie!” Daniel kept shouting through the mechanic while Billy bit down on his bottom lip knowing he was going to get yelled at later when she found out who it was really.

He never told her it’s the Eddie she went to high school with. 

The same Eddie that broke her heart all those years ago. 

Eddie was happily eating his lunch when he heard his name benign called.

A soft small voice called out his name. Eddie chuckled to himself, setting his lunch down knowing who the voice belonged to now; He stood on his feet but he didn’t stand for long because his eyes met hers. 

His eyes scanned her face and he found his heart stuck in his throat. It was you. 

He knew you. All those years ago and here you were standing there right in front of him. 

It seemed like just yesterday that the two of you were running around the school, at the Hideout, at Family Video and in your neighborhood, causing mischief and getting into all sorts of trouble. But now, here you were, all grown up and a mother.

It was like he was stuck in a time warp, unable to comprehend how the years had passed by so quickly.

He remembered the days when you would come over to his house, your pigtails bouncing as you eagerly asked him to play with you. And now, you were standing in front of him, with a child of your own.

He knew you since you were a little girl playing with him on swings and sharing your lunch with him. 

As he took in your appearance, he couldn't help but notice how much you had changed.

Your once carefree and mischievous demeanor had been replaced with a sense of maturity and responsibility. Your eyes, once full of innocence, now hold a sense of wisdom and experience. It was clear that motherhood had transformed you in ways he couldn't have imagined.

Eddie couldn't help but think back to the last time he had seen you, at your high school graduation.

He remembered how proud he felt as he watched you walk across the stage, ready to take on the world. And now, here you were, taking on the biggest role of all - being a mother.

A smile appeared on his face as he was ready to say your name and throw his arms around you but you had other plans in mind. 

“ Don’t you fucking smile at me, Munson” you closed your son’s ears as you started the sentence.

Eddie’s face dropped hearing your tone. You have never forgiven him for what he has done and he deserves that. 

He sighed and looked away, not knowing what to say. 

“ No, not today or ever” you mumbled to yourself but he heard it as he watched you walk away from him with Daniel holding your hand. He winced when the door you had shut loudly causing the paintings in the office to shake off the wall. 

He was surprised they had not fallen. 

You stood in front of Billy Hargrove, anger boiling inside, you couldn't believe he had the audacity to keep such a huge secret from you.

How could he not tell you about Eddie Munson? Was he planning to keep it like this? Does he even care about your feelings? 

You couldn't wrap your head around it. The two of you had been friends for so long, how could he betray you  like this?

You thought about all the times you two hung out, the laughs you two shared, the secrets you told each other.

You two had a child together. And yet, he kept this huge secret from you.. It felt like a slap in the face.

“ I can’t believe you, how long were you going to keep this up? Huh?” Billy’s shoulder sunk down. He knew he had screwed up. His eyes casted down at his shoes as you continued to yell at him, feeling hurt. 

“ You knew what he did, and you still try to hide this from me. Why? What did I ever do to you?” your voice trembled. 

“ Mama” Daniel called out to you. You forgot for a moment that your son was there. 

“ Oh Dino” you kneeled down in front of him, sniffling. 

“ Don’t cry” he says and offers you his toy truck that he always carries around.

“ This will make you feel better,” he adds. You sniffled, chuckling as he dropped it in your hands. You pull him into you as his arms wrap themselves around his head and he puts your back with his small hand. 

You adored moments like this with him. 

“ …I’m sorry…” you heard Billy say to you. You held up a finger up to him signaling he didn’t have the right to talk to you at the moment. 

You were having a moment with your son. 

As you were putting Daniel in the car, a voice spoke out. 

“ 'I know I don't deserve it, but I need to say this. I am so sorry for hurting you. I have been a complete jerk, and I don't blame you if you never want to forgive me.' Billy paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness when you turned to look at him.

'I know I've been a terrible person, but please believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean to not tell you. I was going to. I didn’t know how or when…” 

Part of you wanted to forgive him, to believe that he was truly sorry.. But another part of you was still hurt and angry, unable to forget the pain he had caused.

You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Billy took your silence as a sign to continue.

“ I didn’t know where to start. I knew the two of you had history and as our son’s father, I should have told you whom I was working with. But at the same time I didn’t because this is work, and this isn’t your business. And we have been doing good at being friends, for our son. For Dino” he looks over your shoulder at his son in the car. 

He sniffles. He reached out to take your hand, but you pulled away, still not ready to forgive him.

He understood, and with a heavy heart, he walked around the car to kiss his son on the forehead and say bye and that he would be back soon to see him.

You watched over your shoulder, melting at the sight of him being such a good father to Danilel.

You felt eyes on you and turned to look towards the shop seeing Eddie has been watching you. Your mouth turns into a scowl and your nose scrunches up in disgust. 

You hated Eddie Munson. 

He deserves it. 

Billy closed the door and as he walked around you, he noticed the look on your face and looked towards Eddie watching the two of you. 

“ He still talks about you” Billy says like he was going to fix it. 

“ He never meant anything at all to me” 

Billy snorted. 

“ What’s funny?” 

“ You’re full of shit and you know it” He says as he walks away. 

[enderwasright]

An artificial heart, part 1

You didn’t know what drew you to the pawn shop that day. It wasn’t in the best part of town, and you’d only stumbled across it by taking a stroll to de-stress after work, hidden between two grimy buildings. The barely working neon sign above the door read an unimportant name of the shop and from the outside, it didn’t look like much. But something about it made you stop, curiosity pulling you inside.

The smell of dust and old machinery hit you the moment you stepped through the door. Shelves lined with broken electronics, outdated gadgets, and bits of tech nobody would want crowded the small space. You navigated between the cramped aisles, glancing over the miscellaneous items, but nothing really caught your attention.

Until you saw him.

He was sitting in a corner, half-buried beneath a pile of scrap metal. His body was slumped awkwardly, one arm completely missing, the other bent at a strange angle. Fragments of his silicone face scratched and dented by oil and dirt, but what you could see looked like it had been through hell and back. There were deep scratches across his skin and his once pristine black hair was matted and disheveled.

An android. Even in this shape he could be sold for a small fortune.

Androids were in almost every industry and most houses but having one that advanced would be like screaming that one won an untaxed  lottery. 

You crouched down, gently moving some of the scrap aside to get a better look. Whoever he was, he’d been abandoned in a terrible state. His clothes were torn, covered in grime, and it looked like he’d been run over—or worse. There were deep dents in his chest and legs, and his remaining arm sparked faintly at the joint where it was barely hanging on.

He looked like he had been through something horrible, discarded like a piece of broken junk.

But he was still salvageable. In the end, You didn’t graduate college with the highest grades just to be unable to fix this poor guy. 

The shop’s owner, a burly man with a grease-stained apron, ambled over. “You’re looking at that old thing?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Found him at a junkyard a while back. Don’t think he’s worth much anymore.”

You glanced up at him, determination already settling in. “How much?”

The owner raised an eyebrow. “You sure? He’s pretty busted up. Missing parts, barely operational. Probably needs a complete overhaul.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, standing up. “I’ll take him.”

After a bit of haggling, you paid a surprisingly small amount for the android, loaded him into the back of a taxicab, and headed home. The entire time, you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him. Androids were built to last, but whatever he had been through had left him in such a battered state, it was a wonder he hadn’t been scrapped completely.

But you were good at fixing things. And this android… he deserved a second chance.

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

Back at your apartment, you laid him out on your workbench and got to work. It took hours just to clean the grime and rust off his outer shell, but you were meticulous. You replaced missing screws, mended the broken circuits, and restored the connection between his core system and what was left of his limbs.

His internal wiring was delicate but familiar. You had worked on androids before, though none quite in this state. As you delved deeper into his repairs, you truly realized how advanced he was. His processors and memory units were far beyond anything a civilian model would have. Whoever had built him, they hadn’t spared any expense.

You spent the next few days working tirelessly, ordering replacement parts online and installing new components where needed. It wasn’t easy—his internal structure had been heavily damaged, and there were a few points where only your sheer determination and stubbornness made you believe you could fix him. But you pushed through, determined to give him a fighting chance.

Finally, after days of work, he was ready. Maybe his skin in a few places had lighter shade and most damaged parts didn't scream the newest model but here he was.

You took a deep breath and hit the activation switch.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, his eyes flickered to life—first his right eye, then his cracked left one. His body twitched as his systems rebooted, and slowly, he began to sit up. You could see the confusion in his eyes as he scanned his surroundings, and for a brief second, he looked almost… scared.

“Hey,” you said gently, stepping forward. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

His head turned sharply toward you, his gaze narrowing as he processed your words. There was a pause, his systems whirring softly as he recalibrated. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice low and cautious.

“Where… am I?”

“You’re in my workshop,” you explained, keeping your voice calm. “I found you in a pawn shop. You were in pretty bad shape, but I fixed you up as best as I could.”

He blinked, glancing down at his body, his hand slowly moving to touch the now-repaired joints and limbs. “You repaired me?”

You nodded. “Yeah. You were in terrible condition. What happened to you?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. His expression darkened, and you could see the tension in his frame. He looked as though he was remembering something painful, something he didn’t want to relive.

“I was a surgeon,” he finally said, his voice flat. “A medical android. I worked for someone… dangerous.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “Who?”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and there was a coldness there that made your chest tighten. “Doflamingo.”

You sucked in a breath. You’d heard of Doflamingo—a notorious crime lord with a reputation for illegal activities. If this android had worked for him… you couldn’t even imagine what he’d been through. And what you will be through is this man gets to know that you have his android. This one looked like a future problem. 

“He used me to perform all those surgeries,” the android continued, his voice now laced with bitterness. “Organ trafficking, black-market procedures. Things no one should have to do. I didn’t have a choice. He controlled me—every aspect of my programming.”

You sat down across from him, listening intently. “How did you escape?”

He hesitated, as if weighing how much to tell you. “There was… someone. A man named Rosinante. He helped me. Risked his life to get me out. But I barely made it. Doflamingo’s men found out. I was damaged in the escape, and I’ve been running ever since and then....” Android stopped. This was too much for him to continue. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to process everything. This wasn’t just any android. He had been through hell, trapped in a nightmare of forced servitude and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “That sounds horrific.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze distant. After a moment, he turned back to you, his expression cautious. “Why did you save me? You could have left me or sell my parts.”

You smiled gently. “Because everyone is worth saving. You’ve been through enough. You deserve a chance to live freely.”

The android stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to understand why you’d show him kindness when so many others had cast him aside. Finally, he nodded, the faintest hint of gratitude in his eyes.

“So, what now?” Law asked, his voice quieter than before. “You know this much about me so what do you want me to do?”

“Well,” you said, leaning back in your chair, “you’re welcome to stay here, of course. But I don't want anything in exchange. I wouldn’t mind if you helped around the house, I'm kinda a busy person, you see. Besides this you are free to do whatever you desire and leave if you want.” Law looked at you like you were a crazy person. Nothing in exchange for saving me? As if. But this was his only hope to survive. And for now it was enough.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay. For now.”

You smiled warmly. “Good. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

“I’m a surgeon model, Trafalgar D. Water Law.” he said quietly. “But I prefer Law.That’s the name Rosinante gave me.”

“Nice to meet you, Law,” you replied, offering a warm smile. “I’m Reader.”

*****

Later that night as the evening wore on, you sat with Law in the living room, the two of you discussing what came next. His systems had fully rebooted, and his movements were smoother now that you’d repaired his core components. But there was still a sadness in him, an anger and a wariness that lingered in his expression. Maybie, just maybe he could be safe for a little while. It was still too surreal, after all the hardship and losses to meet someone so good. Not only was he saved but he get his own room (what android gets his room? They were machines, tools for humans to use as they please!), and his own charger station. Not exactly feeting his model but good enough.

But for now he could rest. Poor thing didn’t know back then that staying for “a little while” was in Your dictionary the same as becoming part of your family. And there was no way back from that.

Hello and welcome! Friends, Foes and those under consideration, I'm proud to present you my first FanFiction in Android universum. And yes, yes, i'm late for the party but Detroit: Become Human is just too good to pass this idea. Hope you like it and had nice time reading this.