#I got a little inspired

[that-cameo]

“What are you doing?”

KXK-V3 stood suddenly, leaned down, and pressed the side of his “head” to my chest. I grabbed his metal shoulder so the force of it didn’t push me and my chair back. I could climb up his frame and onto his shoulders if I wanted to, and my full weight would hardly cause him to budge.

“V3?” I asked again.

“Determining the source of the racket,” he replied.

I raised a brow. “Racket?”

“You make a constant racket,” he said, and his gears and servos whirred as he lifted an arm to tap it against the arm of my chair.

 Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

I wasn’t aware his audio processors were good enough to pick up stuff like a heartbeat from the seat at the other end of the dashboard. Then again, for an engineering robot, he did have a rather humanoid design. Maybe it was just to help me be less lonely. The people who designed him knew how long I’d be out here and that he would be my only companion for the duration.

“That racket means I’m alive.”

“Shh.” V3’s voice modulator made a sound more akin to signal static than the shushing of a mother to a rambunctious child, but I obeyed and let him continue his observations. I sat there with his cold, metal head pushed against me for quite some time before he finally stood up straight.

“You’re noisy,” he said, retreating to his seat. “You’re full of thumping and whooshing and vibrations.”

I kicked my feet up onto the dash. “Yeah, that’s human inner workings for you.”

His eyes—optical sensors, whatever—were tilted toward the dash screen. “Can you hear all of your noise?”

 “Not always,” I shrugged. It was easy to forget how little V3 was taught about humans—which was to say he’d been taught nothing. “The thumping, my heartbeat, I can hear when I’ve been running or when I’m scared. Or when I’ve been trying really hard to unscrew the vent bolts and I’ve been holding my breath and giving it all my effort. It starts beating harder, and it’s like I can hear it right in my ears.”

“Hmm.” A low hum. “I hear you whooshing all the time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s breathing. That’s as essential as a heartbeat.”

“If humans don’t breathe, they die.”

I guess they taught him a few sparse facts after all.

“If they don’t breathe oxygen, yes.” I took an exaggerated breath in and let it out slowly. “I can technically always hear myself breathing, but I block it out most of the time.”

V3’s head whirred toward me. “Do your central systems do that automatically?”

“Yep. My brain decides it won’t allot the energy to paying attention to it since it doesn’t help me in any way to hear it. I don’t notice it until it’s different than usual, faster or heavier.”

“Hmm.” Another low hum. I liked to think those hums mean he’s thinking. V3 turned his head back to the dashboard and continued plunking away at the keys. “I’ll have to create a monitoring system.”

“What for?” I pushed myself his way, bracing against the impact of my chair reaching the end of its sliding track. He was checking on the posterior engine coolant systems. If we needed to create a new monitoring system for those, I was going to be in for a very long maintenance circuit.

V3’s tip-tapping on the dash keys didn’t stop. “For your racket.”

I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“A monitoring system will allow me to monitor your imperative functions,” he reasoned, “and therefore alert me if one of them reaches a critical state.”

 Tip tap tip tap.

I slumped back into my chair. I couldn’t help but wonder if that aligned with some programming or mission statement, or if watching to ensure I’m alive was a decision V3 made all on his own. Either way, it was a lovely, thoughtful gesture.

“Your thumping is getting faster,” V3 said, tilting his lenses toward me.

“I’m feeling kinda happy,” I replied. “That happens sometimes.”

“Hmm. It appears I need to run a better analysis of the rate of the thumping and adjust my critical alert threshold. My alarms are already warning me that you are in a critical condition, and you do not appear to be.”

I chuckled. “Tell you what, you keep working on the coolant systems, and I’ll look up what the optimal and safe ranges of beats per minute are.”

V3 nodded, his head bending until the frame of his “face” touched his chest plate. “Bargain accepted.”

thinking very hard about the concept of a machine finding appreciation/fascination for a person's heartbeat or breathing, similarly to how a person would find the hum of a machine's inner parts running to be pleasing to listen to or feel

[the-raindeer-king]

Simon and Price are the kind of guys that insist on paying for everything on a vacation. They're paying for the hotel, the rental car, food, any stupid knickknacks you want. If you even pull out your wallet, they're going to be all huffy. John will politely tell you not to worry about, he's got you covered. On the hand, Simon's taking your wallet from you, telling you that you don't need to spend your money, you've got him for that.

Johnny and Kyle don't mind splitting things with you. You pay for the hotel, he'll pay for the flights, dividing out the expenses so you've both got money for the actual trip. Johnny gets all lovey-dovey when you buy him things, jokes that you're spoiling him. But don't fret, he'll get you back later. Gaz gets all warm and fuzzy when you pay for dinner, staring at you with a lovestruck expression. He thinks it's so sweet, and it's just one more push towards finally pulling the ring out of his pocket.

[linkedin-offficial]

more vivian things

[puppyeared]

my attempt at making a fursona

[vanilla-extracter]

horses :)

[chronicowboy]

Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.

Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.

It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.

It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.

"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.

"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.

"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.

"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"

"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.

"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"

"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.

"You just thought..."

"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."

"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.

"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."

"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.

It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.

Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.

Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.

"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."

"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.

And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.

[lucabyte]

Taking pride in One's own appearance.

[rapidhighway]

i made a guy who loves to POSSESS people. Licho it/its but also uses pronouns of people it possesses

[shyhandart]

♡♡

[egophiliac]

redesigning my headcanon for Sebek's parents, based on important new information (SCALES)

(you can't see it but they're both wearing crocs)

[linterteatime]

Young goobers, so silly...

[paintedcrows]

Human Bill! I wanna put him in a microwave

Bonus-ish: Really liked the flats on this one!

[starry-bi-sky]

wolfpack. aka: if not friend, then why friend-shaped?

"Hey-- uh, Danny?" There's an almost imperceptible tremor in Tucker's voice.

Danny doesn't look up from what he's doing, his pencil scritching across his notebook as he tries to do another quadratic formula question. "Hm."

"What's -- uh -- what's with the dogs?"

He looks up now, and finally sees where Tucker is -- standing in the doorway of his room with an ashy look on his face and a skewed, nervous smile. He's got a white knuckle grip on the doorknob. Sam is wide-eyed behind him, and using him as a partial meat-shield.

Danny looks down to the two giant ghost wolves sprawled next to him lazily. One large green one with his head in Danny's lap, letting him use him as a prop-up for his notebook. Another equally large black one splayed against his hip, sleeping on her side with her head tilted inward to his calf.

Automatically, a grin tilts across Danny's face, and he lifts his notebook up to scratch behind the green one's ears. He opens a lazy eye, one that is bloody red with a ring of yellow around the pupil, before slipping it shut and leaning his head into Danny's touch. "This is Sirius and Procyon," he says, and reaches down to scratch Sirius' belly. "And they're not dogs, they're wolves."

"Great," Tucker says, his voice suddenly much smaller and faint, "Love that distinction."

Sirius makes a great big groan, and Danny's grin widens, his heart swelling with fondness. His hand slips away from her belly, and before he can put his notebook back down, Procyon pushes his head up his lap until his ear is against his stomach, demanding pets now too.

Sam peeks her head up from over Tucker's shoulder, "I think what Tucker's asking here is what are they doing here, Danny."

He shrugs, scratching under Procyon's chin. "They kinda just showed up. I tried sending them back to the Zone, but they keep returning." And they were weirdly intent on just following him around, which is the only reason he gave up on returning them. They weren't causing trouble, and they knew how to hide around the living. Plus, he just loves dogs. "So now I have two wolves living with me."

This, oddly enough, did not do anything to calm Sam and Tucker down. Tucker's mouth purses into a thin line, and he presses the sides of his palms to his lips in prayer. "How have your parents not found out about this?"

Danny wordlessly raises his hand, and his sleeve slides down to reveal a thin chain bracelet hooked around his wrist. He whistles sharply, and both Procyon and Sirius jerk their heads up to look at him, ears pricked up and eyes alert.

Silently, he points to his wrist and rattles it twice, and in unison both wolves stand up and pounce. Instantly, they turn into a respective, opaque black and green mist that swirls around the bracelet and forms into two, flat wolf charms.

Both wolves are posing in the stereotypical wolf howl, with little stars indented on the sides. Procyon's charm has the Canis Minor constellation engraved on it, while Sirius has the Canis Major.

Danny faces Sam and Tucker, and points at his wrist. "Like this."

[wasyago]

the brainrot won

[chillguy42]

[venusinta]

rkgk 💛💜