#The Hauler (oc)

[aloe-vera-7]

Happy Holidays from Witness, Warrior, and Hauler

[hippieuncle]

Lethal company ocs in the making :D

Got some stuff written down abt them initially

Two rookie friends who signed up and got deployed down together afrer their first seperate missions had their crews wiped.

Alone they are kind of useless and afraid because of the simple fact nobodhs prepared to get mauled by mostners. Together however, they have a nice dynamic, 2 is a bit stronger and the 1 is a bit smarter, they fill each other's lacking parts in and because of that, they are about as efficient as whole experienced company worker. They might just be the two most genuine members on the crew that will try and help ur ass even if u wont help them (-cough- captain -cough-)

1 is very much into researching what they might encounter when most are apathetic to the threats, presumably because the other crews have had their decent amount of interactions with alien beasts and foreign horrors to not give as much as afuck anymore, he kind of helps bring in a new dynamic to the crew

The stronger, 2 sticks to his buddy a lot, all he kind of got going for him are his long legs that help him bridge gaps easier and run faster. LOL

Veteran, a "Captain" of some sorts. Demanding and the Instructor for the new folks - only reason he made it this far, is because he himself is the biggest coward of them all. Refuses to put his back into it, carries light items only and only if it leaves him enough space to hold a walkie talkie. The keys hogger and the type to always end up back at the ship before 12 midday.

HAULER, silent type. Decent experience, got moved crews after his entire crew ate shit. Coincidentally the guy who also loves to have the most fun. (example: useless purchases, WILL groove out at the end of a mission in a form of celebration) capable of survival alone and has a significant amount of bravery that could be seen as recklessness, which actually usually saves his hide by being the one that takes action when shit goes south(comes in with the shovel). THE HAULERRR

4 stupid dumb bitches go adventure in tight suits.

[jujucomet]

Ex-Pirate Gek NMS OC... She is now a hauler/transporter freelancer working for a weird Korvax.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

INTRODUCING: TERRIFIC TWOSDAY because what's better than one rec? that's right, two.

Happy Tuesday, everyone! ... Or should I say TWOSDAY? In an effort to get through my TBR list and to shout about things I've been meaning to shout about for far too (two) long, I am going to be turning every Tuesday into Two Recs Day. I'll be highlighting two works in each category that I loved and that I know you'll love, too (2)! Check them out, and remember to show some love to the creators!!

Two Series Recs: This week, I am going with two series that are currently in progress. I know that finished works often get a lot of focus. As they should! I can tell you first hand that seeing a whole series through to the end is a TALL ORDER. But you know what is also very freaking cool? Hopping on board while the train is still in motion, catching up with previous chapters and waiting excitedly to see where the train is taking you! So without further ado, here are the two trains that I recommend you all hop on this week.

LIMINALITY by @something-tofightfor

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Wolf AU + “forbidden romance”

9 Parts in so far (plus extras + POV switches)

Thrills. Chills. Swoons. Moons. This story is brimming with excitement and adrenaline… not to mention the heat. (Frankie is a whole entire menace, as he should be.) All the guys are here (yes, that does include Tom 🙄) and they are all captured so perfectly, as is their friendship with one another and with Frankie. It features a very confident, brave, badass reader, ancient lore, supernatural elements, family business, and one heck of a connection between our main characters. Every chapter flies by and leaves you wanting - needing - more, and now is an excellent time to let yourself get hooked on this one, because the action is only ramping up from here!

PASSENGER by @whatsnewalycat

Din Djarin x OFC!Charlie

Modern Trucker AU + dog Grogu

6 Parts in so far

Are you looking for a new OC to fall in love with and want to protect with your life? How about a morally gray long-hauler who moonlights as a bounty hunter? Well you’re in luck because this story has BOTH. It’s also got incredibly high stakes juxtaposed with really sweet, human moments. Charlie is one of the most charming OCs I’ve ever met (which happens to be one of her rules to live by- all of which are good advice for anyone to follow, IMO) and Din’s characterization is so very well done - as is Grogu’s. The theme of delivering the bounty vs doing what’s right is very present and extremely well done, and watching these characters warm up to each other and blur the lines is truly a treat. Get caught up and hitch a ride for the rest of the journey, because I know it’s only going to get better from here!

Two One Shot Recs:

GREATEST OF ALL TIME by @gnpwdrnwhiskey

Dieter Bravo x OFC!Ava

Meet cute + “Do you believe in aliens?”

Dieter needs a break from work and the hullabaloo that comes along with it, and has enlisted the help of his assistant to book him a solo getaway so he can just relax, reset and revive the vibes. Sounds great, right? It is, until he gets turned around and off the beaten track in the middle of the desert and meets the enigmatic Ava and her faithful pal Goat… who might be more than your average Great Dane. After a misunderstanding about where he’s supposed to be, Dieter realizes that the airstream desert oasis under the stars is exactly where he’s meant to be.

LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTERS by @sixhours

Joel & Ellie

Part of an existing universe

Even though I’ve not yet read the series that this one shot takes place in, it’s immediately gone on my list due to this little interlude. This is such a good character study of Joel and of Ellie - of what they’ve been through, what they want for each other, and how their relationship has grown and changed. It’s got some really beautiful lines and heartwarming/heartbreaking feelings. I love these two forever and ever, and this little slice of life shows just how much they love each other, too. Joel Miller is Dad of the century. Period. The end.

Two Art Recs:

Ezra & Cee Jammin’ by @thekawaiifruitworld

Literally every time this artist draws these two, my heart grows ten sizes to accommodate how much more I love them. JUST LOOK AT THEM! So goofy, so happy, so whole and healthy and and and..!

Joel Strummin’ by @nic0o-o

I whimpered when I first saw this masterpiece, and you will, too. Just go. Just go look. Look at his beauty. I dare you not to be in your feelings about this man after seeing this piece.

[sp00kymulderr]

chapter 1

Warnings: None for this part, 18+ for the series as a whole

Pairing: Ezra x ofc

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Escaping a world that offers nothing but hopelessness, Mireya starts a journey to a new beginning. On the transport where her voyage starts, she meet an intriguing man with his own dark past. He might just be an important piece to finding the way to the new life Mireya has always dreamt of. Or perhaps he’ll be her undoing.

A/N: You may have seen this before, but it was deleted. I'm trying to write more of what I love and I have always loved this story, thank you @chronically-ghosted for inadvertently reminding me of that. Set before Prospect. Part one is really just an introduction, and a very limited introduction at that to our oc because of the nature of the story.

The small, elegant Cerphain soars along the dangerously rocky coastline of Zjara’s outer-lands with a grace few other creatures can manage. The bird flies free; weaving amongst the jutting rocks of the cliff-face where it nests, then sharply diving to skim the water for sustenance. It’s black feathered wings spread, catching the wind to guide it on it’s way wherever it wishes to go.

Mireya Seda had always envied those birds, watching them from her one spot of solitude on the whole miserable planet of Zjara – once a world of natural beauty full of creatures like those birds, now a barren land turned grey and cold by it’s uncaring inhabitants. Every night for years and years the young woman had dreamt of flying, of sprouting wings and finding her way out of the arid commune with the ease and grace of a Ceprhain.

There was never anything for someone like Mireya on the planet, she had known that for all the cycles she had been there; no warmth, no hope, no soul. Just the grey, rocky plateau and the waning moon peeking through the never-ceasing thick blanket of clouds. A place of purgatory with it’s vicious icy rivers and the bleak landscape of a dying place.

It had been that way since she arrived; eleven years old when she had been sent to the commune. Now twenty-four, every day of that time Miyera had only wished to escape.

So she found a way out, a way to fly even higher than the birds. Running away with a clear path of chaos left behind, destroying what had held her in place for so long. No more fear, no more duty. No more. Paying her way on to a visiting shuttle that would dock to the Deonida - a long distance hauler - and take her across the system and away from the miserable bone-deep cold of Zjara and it’s people.

It’s funny then, Mireya thinks, that the hulking metal transport that will take her away from purgatory feels almost as claustrophobic and caging as the settlement did. Somehow after a week on the ship she feels more jealous than ever of creatures who don’t have to rely on the suffocating, behemoth vessels to find their place.

The Deonida is huge and oppressive in it’s structure, but it’s the only hauler that could traverse across the system all the way to Tereverus in exchange for her hard earned credits. With all she has to her name – credits earned in secret through various skills cultivated in years of captivity – Mireya can afford to pay board on the ship, a bunk in a cabin shared with too many others, and a one-way journey to a world with endless potential and a future that could never be dreamt of in Zjara. A chance of freedom, if she could only make it several weeks on the labyrinthine transport full to the brim with wayfarers just like her – looking for their new start.

One of the few blessings of the grimy, overpopulated Deonida is the observation deck. Often empty - the vast expanse of stars seemingly unimpressive to the drifters who spent their lives travelling through space – the large windows with a narrow metal bench facing them is where Mireya finds herself more often than not, in some state of wistful meditation that helps focus on what’s to come instead of where she is stuck for the time being.

She sits silently and watches the stars in quiet wonder. It makes her feel so small – a speck of dust on a map so vast and encompassing that she might vanish to thin air in a moment. It’s often like that on the hauler too, left to her own devices and only interacting when trying to find a crew she could go to Tereverus with, on Zjara she learnt well how not to draw attention to herself and that modest manner meant she was left alone for the most part now too.

It’s a shock then that when Miyera is standing at the window, hand pressed against the thick, cold glass as she wills herself to feel some peace amongst the beauty outside it, she is lulled out of contemplation by a deep, distinctive voice of a man.

“I wondered if we might cross paths here soon...” he starts, making the woman gasp lightly in surprise. Turning she finds the source of the words to be a man with tired, brown eyes and a mess of dark brown hair – an unusual tuft of blonde at the front. He looks worn and weary, but greets with a surprisingly pleasant smile. It is unusual, for the occupants of this ship.

“Oh?” Mireya responds gently, pleased beyond expectation to be able to share words with someone after what felt like years of silence. On Zjara, it was rare for her to speak.

He nods, looking surprised for a moment before speaking again.

“I noticed you in the mess...you’re not the usual type to...well, I suspected this might be your first ride aboard a long-haul transport?” he queries politely, sitting on the bench as she turns towards him. “Very few spend their time observing the cosmos after their first passage”

His demeanour is non-threatening. Pleasing, the way he leans back with his legs outstretched as if he is completely relaxed in her presence despite their being strangers. There’s a certain and clear charm to him which to Mireya can only translate as friendly – after all he is the first person to speak to her about anything other than shuttle maintenance. Somehow, and perhaps naively, she feels an air of calm wash over as she contemplates the stranger.

His clothes and shoes are clearly worn-in, he doesn’t own many more, and she quickly notices the calloused, overworked hands when he rubs his fingers against an itch on his neck. He’s handsome, but not in an obvious way like the clean-cut folk from Central. A wanderer, almost certainly a prospector – dirt under his fingernails and caked in to the tread of his boots.

Immediately it’s clear this is a man who knows the stars and his place in them, and she can’t help but find herself intrigued.

“I travelled long-range once before, when I was very young. The stars were like magical beings to me, they still fascinate me now. I never really got to see them on…on my home planet” the words are barely more than a whisper, looking away from him as she thinks back to the long, long journey from Central to Zjara as a child. How different things might be if she had never had to take that trip…

The man continues to watch, a crease between his eyebrows as he sees Mireya’s expression change following those words. Does he see that pain? The shake of her hands before she’s clasping them behind her back? No one can know where she came from, not until that place is far far away.

“How many times have you been on board?” Mireya asks the man quietly, trying to distract from the change in demeanour. “Does it always feel this…this…lonely?” the last word a whisper.

“Far too many to divulge. Travelling long-haul can be a laborious task, I’m well aware of that” The man’s voice has a pleasing lilt, an odd accent she doesn’t know. “If you ever need a companion to ponder the galaxy with I’d be pleased to offer some succour”

A soft sigh, barely heard, escapes her lips. It’s easy to be alone but being lonely is another beast, snarling and ugly, one which she spent far too much time with on Zjara. Perhaps this unknown person will make escape easier on an anguished mind.

“I...I’d like that…” Not without hesitation but the words come out quick.

“Ezra” he offers his name and extends a hand.

“Ezra” Mireya murmurs back, a pleasant sound from her lips.

Sitting besides him, she turns her gaze back to the glowing specks surrounding on all sides while he begins to tell her some fast flowing tale about his experiences amongst them. And while she listens with rapt attention, Mireya can feel something intangible rise within her soul – regardless of who this man is, his presence seems to be a catalyst for something spectacular to begin in life.

All at once Mireya understands that, finally, this is the start of her story.

[spyglassrealms]

Spy's OCs: Zak Kaiyo

art by my good friend, the wonderful @wildegeist!

Realm: Arcverse Species: Tokaya Homeworld: Terotewaukia (Teroteaumia system) Age: 26 annua (29 Earth years) Gender (human analogue): cismasculine (he/him, xe/xen*) Height: 1.8 m Weight: 72.5 kg Occupation: Captain and pilot of the starship Free Spirit; freelance cargo-hauler; occasional mercenary; jack-of-all-trades [Suggested Listening: Burn Out Brighter by Anberlin]

Zakane "Zak" Kaiyo is the co-owner, captain, and pilot of the heavily-modified light hauler Aum Hara (otherwise known as the "Free Spirit") and the leader of a small band of freelance spacers that make their home aboard the ship. He's just one more spark in the great spiral; one more restless soul trying to make a living doing what he can in a galaxy that's always moving and yet always standing still. From the Tyrian Shallows to the Drift and everywhere in between, Zak and his small but loyal crew of misfits can be found anywhere something interesting is happening.

Zak's talented -albeit reckless- piloting skills earned himself and his copilot Arkto a spot in the Galactic Spacecraft Pilots Association Hall of Fame, having broken the record for the smallest crewed ship by mass to exceed 10 million times the speed of light with a hyperdrive. His performative stuntwork is also renowned, and he frequently attends the annual Galactic Pilot Convention.

Most of the "swashbuckling freelance ace pilot" tropes apply to this space hobo, whose personal creed is "do good recklessly." His confidence, determination, and cheerful sarcasm make for an extremely charismatic, if reckless, leader. He's very mischievous and likes to get into trouble, but can be relied on to get out of it as quickly as he gets into it… most of the time. Zak acts fearless but, go figure, this man has Attachment Issues. He hates the idea of getting tied down to one place or thing, yet at the same time he is fiercely protective of his crew. (Shhh. Nobody tell him.)

Zak's homeworld is a backwater: connected to the galaxy and participant in its affairs, but hardly anyone there actually got out beyond the system. He was constantly told that he ought to be happy on Terotewaukia, fixing up interplanetary haulers and maybe going to the outer moons of the system once in a while. He and his two best friends always wanted more. The three of them had plans to quietly fix up one of the written-off hauler derelicts on company time and get the hell out, making their way around the wild starry yonder to see what could be seen.

And then one of them decided they wanted to stay and settle down.

That was the last straw for Zak. As soon as the opportunity arose, he and Arkto (his other bff) took off in their souped-up light hauler and never looked back. But once they were out there... Zak came to realize that the galaxy isn't a really adventurous place.

See, Arcverse is a universe that everyone thinks has been more or less figured out. Galactic civilization has been around for something like a million years or so, and the Arcadian Order have been sort of running the Galactic Assembly for about that long (mostly because they got off their planet first and they do a pretty decent job of wrangling the rowdier civilizations with diplomacy). The entire galaxy is, broadly speaking, at peace. The clash of titans already happened; the fate-of-the-galaxy-level stakes were sorted out thousands of generations ago. All the major starfaring powers, while independent in principle, are constrained by the bureaucracy of the Galactic Assembly. There's mild internal turmoil —and there's always an underbelly— but it's still quite tame. There's a whole galaxy out there with lots to see but nothing to really strive for in it.

Zak Kaiyo is someone who desperately, fundamentally, needs to strive. He wants to live fast and die young in a galaxy where everyone lives at a reasonable pace and dies basically never. He exists to challenge the stagnancy of a world that's as close to utopia as it can reasonably be. Zak wants so badly to save the galaxy, but he lives in a galaxy that doesn't need saving. And that's tearing him to pieces.

[nerdygoth77]

Re: Fallout Equines

This might be a bit out there, but do you think there's a similar place for Zebras in the Fallout world? Both in terms of serving those in South-East Africa but also we know from Nuka World's Gazelles and Ghoulrillas that the survival of captive zoo animals is absolutely in play. I imagine the big challenge there is that they aren't really domesticated, but I'm sure over 200 years it could work out?

I have actually thought about this a lot!!! Like a lot, lol

Thank you so so much for your ask!! I love questions like this!! :)

I love the thought of zebras as vicious mounts for the people of the wastelands, but sadly zebras do not have the build to carry weight. They simply are not built for riding, despite what some may say. Why is that? Well! Their bone structure is quite different from horses.

They are incredible equines but they cannot be ridden, nor are they the friendliest or easiest to train. We actually had one come through our rescue a while back and I don't think I've met a more mean and fierce equine. Strongest bite i've ever felt too!! (Luckily I didn't have to experience the kicks) And I've met some real fiery and pissed off equines. So I bet Zebra's would not work out the best for a form of mount or labor, but hybrids? I could see how they would work out well!!

Zorses, a mix between a horse and a zebra, still have some fierce and feral tendencies and can be difficult to train, but they do have the structural build to carry weight and haul. Zonkeys, a mix between a zebra and a donkey would maybe be alright for some forms of labor but their build would not be very good for much carrying. So Zorses would be the best option. Almost all mules are sadly sterile, since they are also a hybrid. So Zorses, I believe, are as well. So it would require a permeant breeder of a horse and a zebra somewhere out there in the wasteland. They'd be harder to find naturally running in herds like horses and zebras do.

I have actually thought about the use of zorses in Nuka World extensively. Like I have written multiple ideas and even a large portion of a fanfiction about these animals. I love to picture zebras and horses, along with donkeys, surviving in and around Nuka World. Just like the Gazelles, Ghoulrillas, and Brahmiluff(mutated buffalo)

I also love to picture the raiders of Nuka World using equines for multiple reasons, especially as mounts.

I have a work in progress fic about my OC overboss of Nuka World, Lilly. And her relationship with Porter Gage and their story of turning Nuka World into a raider empire. In this story they manage to keep all three gangs alive by spreading their territory to the river valley surrounding Nuka World. Taking over the old farmlands and town of Bradberton. In my little fallout world The Pack uses their animals for many many crucial things, like their dogs for hunting and their equines for many different things like mounts and haulers. and I like to think their main mount/riding horses are actually hybrids. Some form of mutated Zorse, maybe they even have mutated enough to breed on their own and have more abilities that Zorses would lack, like extra carrying strength and thicker fur for the appalcian winters. Zorses would already have an incredible advantage over horses, they would be incredibly powerful and vicious animals. They'd have the build of a horse but the viciousness of a zebra, with incredibly strong hooves and teeth that were made for murder. They'd be extra surefooted and muscular, with the ability to survive on little water and limited grass. They'd be harder to train, but in my Au the Pack has a few horse trainers, including an old world horse trainer who is a ghoul OC of mine. They train their zorses not just in bravery, but they are absolutely trained to bite and trample enemies. Their powerful bites, kicks and stomps are taken advantage of by the raiders of Nuka World. I also see The Pack painting the Zorses colorful patterns involving their equine striped patterning.

[heartstringsbloom]

(Second part to my Cars au story featuring McQueen and his sister Maisie, who’s my oc. TW for vomiting but nothing graphic, brief use of words “emptiness” and “numb” to describe how a character is feeling at one point, and crying. But things get better. This is a long one, hope you enjoy ^^)

The theater roared, applause and cheers overwhelming the space. Maisie’s golden-brown dress melted as she bowed. Heart in her ears, she was soaring.

It was what she had always dreamed of. Somehow it didn’t feel as shocking as she always thought. When she dreamt from a young age of being on stage, she imagined that it would be the most stifling of moments. But in the middle of the dream—could you imagine?—it was like being home.

“Home,” she whispered under the lights and love. “I’m home, aren’t I?”

Home.

~~~

Wasn’t she?

~~~

“Home.” Monty chewed the inside of his cheek as Harv led him to the hauler. Mack waved from where he leant on the trailer.

“Good thing, huh? Nothing to get in your way this time. This next race will make or break your whole career, kid.”

Good thing. Monty smiled that perfect smile that taught him adoration. Taught him success and how to think about his future instead of looking back.

~~~

Good thing, right?

Dinoco, here we come.

~~~

“Home,” the crowd murmured. “Home.”

It was there at the forefront of her mind, always was. Home was them.

“Home,” Mom said. She didn’t see her mom.

Home was them.

Monty took her hand.

“You’re not home.” Maisie’s throat felt dry as she spoke. The crowd was gone, everything dark. “When are you coming home?”

He was silent beside her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, ashamed at how much she missed him.

Home.

“Monty—“ She couldn’t see through her tears. She pulled her hand from his to run through her hair, shaky. Her curls were almost as unruly as his, though she had done her hair so neatly.

Monty, I need you to come home.

Monty, where are you?

“Come home!” She seethed until dissolving into sobs. “Just come back home!”

He stared down at her on her knees. She couldn’t see his eyes through his racing helmet.

I miss you.

“Monty!” Maisie woke up in a cold sweat.

The dream clung to her beneath the chilled air. Her lungs worked to get anything of a breath back in, and it was only once she registered the scratchy bedsheets and night-filled windows would she sigh and fall into her hands.

That was the third night in a row. Sleep ran from her any chance it could. She couldn’t convince it to stick around as nightmares constantly gave chase.

(“—Supposedly sleeping, according to Mr. McQueen’s hauler.”)

A dry weight sat behind her eyes, weak but persistent. She didn’t think she could cry anymore. It had been the hardest she’d cried since—

Mom’s soothing voice wrapped around her mind, guiding her breathing in a controlled rhythm. In, out. Count in, 1-2-3-4. . .out. Again.

Keep in time, like a song. Good job, dollop.

Maisie opened her eyes to a warm day, face stained with tears.

~~~

He weaved through the party, eyes set on the one still guest. She was lovelier than any midnight dance. Stubborn and testy as she was. “Miss Maisie, you’ve sat in the shadows for quite some time.”

Had she not eventually responded, he would have figured she missed his voice. The music was so loud. Though he had learned some time ago how impressive her hearing was.

“I’ve gotten comfortable,” she said into her drink.

“Why stay? I could make all of your dreams come true.”

She hummed, nodding about the room as if she had just heard about a sunny forecast. “I’m good. Thanks for the offer.”

He frowned. “You can’t be.”

“Oh.” She took a sip. “I see.”

Her drink became her focus once more and he sighed, irritation nipping at his ankles. When she still wouldn’t look at him he made his very sophisticated, very tight leave.

Her loss.

~~~

Maisie blew soft bubbles into her glass, eyes shutting when his footsteps faded. The room played out around her all the while. Heart in her ears, though she tried not to feel so out of sorts.

After-parties were a drag.

~~~

Ugh, after-parties were such a drag.

“You only say that because you’re having to smooze it up with sponsors.” Sally twirled his hair loosely, easing him down so she could speak in his ear. “And fix your face. You look miserable and you’re gonna feel miserable if photos come out showing it.”

“So what,” Lightning muttered stubbornly. “Let them see how much I don’t want to be here.” Adrenaline ran through him still. He wished these events wouldn’t follow so closely after a race, and instead give him some time to breathe and come down from the rush.

“It’s been 10 minutes, stickers.”

“10 minutes too long.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek and like that, melted his disdain. The discomfort crawling under his skin fizzled out.

“You’ve got me.”

“I’ve got you,” he returned contentedly. On the rare occasion Sally could make it out to a race, the parties were much more bearable. She held this calming effect that always soothed him. Being with her was like being with a lake in the quiet of a starlit night.

They were soon joined by Doc, who hugged Lightning and wrapped an arm around Sally. She slipped the glass from Doc for herself. He rolled his eyes, looking not the least bit surprised.

She pursed her lips in curiosity. “This is water.”

“Sure is. Legend tells it’s good for the body.”

She hummed, returning the glass to her lips with a murmur. “Water’s my best friend.”

Doc fixed his gaze to Lightning. “How’re you holding up?”

Lightning rolled his shoulders and hopped a few times in place. “Grinning and bearing it.”

“Grin more,” Sally chirped. He stuck his tongue out at her.

Doc huffed his amusement. “Think I saw Cal and Bobby by the food.”

As he usually did at such news, McQueen lit up.

“Oh, perfect! But—“he faltered, blue eyes already missing his blue sweet—“well, I can’t just leave you, Sal.”

Sally smiled at him, ever endeared. “Go have fun. Doc needs some company anyway, don’t you, Doc?” It wasn’t really a question, and she didn’t really let him respond before she dragged him towards their crew. Sally blew a kiss in her wake.

Lightning caught it with a grin, a chuckle slipping through as he locked it in his heart. He scanned the room for his friends.

He spotted the top of Cal’s fluffy platinum blond over the crowd and made his way towards the growing laughter and familiar sound of Bobby teasing their tallest friend. The dread of earlier mingling melted away immediately.

~~~

It was something-past midnight when Maisie slumped through the door and kicked her shoes off. She still felt the night’s adrenaline and music, not that she wasn’t ready for it to fade. Parties were too touchy-mingly. Maybe if she’d had someone to burden with her displeasure, she would have actually enjoyed herself.

Maisie snickered to herself, under her breath in the starry solitude of the window. She was such a drama queen.

As always, her favorite pajamas were perfect when she was fresh out of the shower with nowhere to be in the morning. Yet she tried to ignore how the day wouldn’t pass before she ached to be back on set. She didn’t even have a major role. But the moment she was in character, she always wanted to give it her all.

It was laughable how closely she held a background role, and then it wasn’t. Every part matters, she had told herself since childhood. Sometimes she let the comparisons bleed into her thoughts, though. Then she would shape up, toss her hair, and tell the doubt off. Because, really: the audacity.

With a comfy sigh she slipped under the scratchy sheets. Her eyes drifted to the popcorn ceiling: beige. Not her eyes, the ceiling. Her eyes were. . .a color she never understood.

Monty always compared her eyes to the woods. They weren’t green and pretty like the trees. Just brown and boring. Like bark. Like something she never understood.

But he always said that tree bark held years and years of value. And it was strong, like her. Did strength mean getting by without her family? Did not family make you stronger?

Maisie turned into the pillow, eyes out the rainy window. Eventually they grew heavy.

The last thing she heard was her brother laughing while mom fussed at him for tracking mud in the house. He was so quick she didn’t stop him.

~~~~

“Okay—okay.” Lightning held up a finger before Doc could get a word in. “In my defense, I didn’t see the rain.”

“You didn’t see the rain?”

“It’s clear, isn’t it?”

Doc pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kid, there’s mud on my floor.”

“I know.” Lightning hit him with his famous McQueen pout. “But I said I was sowwy.”

Sally poked her head over the back of the couch. “He’s got you there, Doc.”

“Sally,” Doc sighed. She giggled and turned back to the tv.

Lightning opened his arms. “Can we hug it out?”

Doc stared at him long and hard. Only when the kid actually started tearing up did Doc roll his eyes.

Lightning chuckled as they embraced. “You know I’m really sorry, Doc. I promise I’ll clean it.”

“Oh you’re gonna clean it.” Doc actually cracked a smile. “Come on. It can wait til after dinner.” He called over his shoulder, “your girlfriend’s starving.”

“What? Nooo,” Sally objected around a mouthful of chips.

“I said no snacks on my couch, Selena.”

“Oh really, Doc? My full name?” Sally shook her head and sent her boyfriend a wink on her way to the kitchen, mouthing: he never means it.

Lightning snorted. The difference between him and Sal was that she never got crumbs on the furniture. Doc still makes him stand in the kitchen with snacks.

~~~~

“I’m telling you, girl, it’s—Maisie.” Candice shook her. “Maisie.”

“Relax before I spill the coffee.” Maisie rolled her eyes, tone earnest despite her muted expression. “Look, I’m excited for you. I am. It’s a huge opportunity.”

“A HUGE opportunity!” Candice said with inflection that made Maisie proud. How you say something made all the difference. “Coconut, I’m going to star in the movie of the year! I’m going to be famous!”

Maisie moved farther from Candice before she could jostle her much more, setting the coffee near the director’s chair. She scanned the set for him but came up empty. Oh well. Hopefully it wouldn’t get cold.

It was a standard sci-fi set. Crew were rearranging the rocket ship props as actors hung around the food area. They were on the 27th take. Actor 1 (the protagonist) kept forgetting his lines, though he was running on a few hours of sleep. Actors 2 and 4 were told to emote more, but not told to make it sincere. Actor 3 had recently replaced the previous actor 3, who had pulled out for personal reasons, but new actor 3 was shy and kept mumbling. The director had simply cut when he’d had enough, rubbing his temples and tossing a coffee order somewhere.

Maisie had happened to be in that somewhere.

“Maisie? Coconut? Girl, are you, like, here?”

“Hm?” She turned back to her friend, who was pouting pretty loudly. “Nice pout. You’re good at showing emotion.”

Candice tilted her head, bubblegum hair following through like a curtain. “Thank you?”

“So what’s the movie about?” Maisie took a sip of her water while watching the actors get back in place.

“Something about racing. Daddy says it’s because of how popular the sport is these days.”

Maisie spit her water back in the glass to avoid choking.

“Oh yeah?” She croaked. There were napkins nearby. She dabbled at her mouth, heart in her ears. Throat sore.

“Mhm! You know that really popular one in red? Well, the director wanted the movie to be about him.” Candice bat her eyes with a pleased smile. “Daddy convinced him to change some stuff around so I could be the star, though.”

Maisie nodded slowly, keeping her face neutral. “And so you’re playing. . .” She cleared her throat to hide how her voice wavered. “The ‘one in red’?”

Candice laughed sweetly as she filled her lemon water. “Oh gosh, no. Red is so not my color. It’s a completely new, perfectly pink character with a backstory inspired by my own life.”

Maisie hummed. She felt cold. Flighty.

Get it together.

“Which, speaking of, is it not totally crazy how he got, like, lost?”

“What, to the race?” Monty never did have the best sense of direction.

“Yeah! No one’s heard from him since yesterday.”

Hold on. “He—what are you talking about?”

Candice waved her glass in the air, splashing water on the floor. “It was all over the news this morning! On daddy’s paper, the radio in the limo. . .”

“Candice.” Please, please let it not be true. “What do you mean no one’s heard from him?”

Her friend looked confused. “He’s. . .like, missing? I guess? His driver lost him on the road.” She put a hand on Maisie’s shoulder. “Are you okay? You’re super flushed.”

No. No no no no no.

Maisie reached into her pocket with a shaky hand and managed to pull her phone out. It took a few tries to type some things in the search bar, her fingers kept stuttering, oh gosh—

There. The first result on the main page.

“BREAKING: Piston Cup rookie racer ‘Lightning McQueen’ reported missing.”

No NO.

Article after article.

“Rookie sensation lost on the road.”

“McQueen goes Missing: hauler without answer.”

“WHERE IS MCQUEEN??”

She shook her head. She couldn’t see through the tears.

“Maisie?” Candice said worriedly. Somewhere.

“I—I need to—“ Maisie pressed a hand to her own mouth as something heavy built in her chest. She sucked in a breath and walked quickly through blurred out faces.

Where’s the door.

“Maisie?!”

Her feet picked up as a sob forced it’s way out of her. She needed to get out.

“MAISIE!” Familiar heeled feet chased her. Maisie didn’t stop until she fell through a bathroom stall door and on her knees in time to be sick.

~~~~

“You and your brother will always be there for each other, okay?” Mom dried her hands as Maisie put the last few dishes away.

“Yeah, mama, but he made me so mad.”

“I know, dollop.” Mom pushed some of her curls back so they were looking at each other. “But he’s your family. That’s forever, baby. Dolls come and go.”

The corners of Maisie’s mouth shook. “But she was mine. . .”

“And that car was his. You can’t go breaking his stuff because he accidentally broke yours.” Mom rubbed her cheek and stood. “Now go say sorry. Monty said it about a dozen times.”

“Well he should have anyway,” Maisie sassed. But when her mother gave her a look, she withered.

With a huff Maisie dragged her feet out the kitchen. It wasn’t fair. That was her favorite toy, and Monty had just been so careless. He never looked where he was going. He—

Ow!

“Oh! Um—sorry.”

Maisie groaned at the pain flooding her forehead. From the floor she looked up as Monty shuffled uncomfortably. He held a hand out for her, eyes elsewhere. Maisie, still bitter, sighed through her nose and stood on her own. Monty visibly deflated.

“So. . . I’m sorry for breaking Delilah.”

“I know.” How many times was he going to say it?

“I could fix her! If you want?” He looked hopeful. It did nothing to sway her.

Maisie turned away before her resolve could crack. She was still angry and he wouldn’t change that.

After a while of staring at the carpet as Monty stared at her, she heard him walk away. She tried to ignore his sniffling.

~~~

It had been hours since she heard about his disappearance. Candice had held her hair back as she emptied her stomach in the bathroom. Maisie never stopped feeling sick, but she had heaved herself dry.

All she could do was lay in bed. Candice had tried to invite her over, “‘if it would make you feel better?”’

Maisie had declined. She was unsure if it would hurt more to be with others or alone. She was unsure if this was hurt, or just emptiness.

She felt numb.

Her favorite pajamas were folded neatly in her suitcase, forgotten in lieu of just some sweats and a t-shirt. She had barely gotten through a shower, going through the trouble only because she had spent well enough time slouched on the bathroom floor. Candace had insisted she get cleaned up.

How could this—

She curled into herself, hiding from the world. From everything.

How could this happen?

(“I promise I’ll call every chance I get—and visit, too, when I can!”

Maisie wiped her eyes, disguising the action as fixing her makeup. She was good at pretending. Monty smiled sadly. He always saw through her act.

“I’ll hold you to that.”)

A sob broke through. It felt all too familiar.

(“It’s been months, mama.” She hid her face in mom’s shoulder as fingers played through her short curls. “Not a peep.”

“Give it some more time, baby. It’s a busy career.” Mom tucked a kiss in her hair, the action equal parts loving and teasing. “You’ll understand when you’re the biggest actress there ever was, hm?”

Maisie giggled. “When I make it big, I’ll just buy a house for us all to live in together.”

“Yeah?” The calming embrace made her sleepy. Mama said something else but Maisie missed it, probably. She was lost in the peace of it all.”)

Maisie hardly cried.

Tears soaked the pillow.

(She laid in bed, staring past the hallway to a door that hadn’t been opened in years. That same cartoon racing poster was still there. It had faded over time.)

She didn’t know how long she laid there, crying openly in the hotel room. Her brother was missing and she hadn’t spoken to him in several years. Her brother was missing and if she would ever escape the guilt, she still worried that it was too late. She should have called.

Why hadn’t she called?

In her hand she clutched a little toy car.

It was all she had left.

~~~

(As Mack drove on through the night, fighting sleep at the kid’s demand, a little red phone lit up in the trailer with its 20th missed call. Another rang through a few seconds later. No one answered.)

~~~

“Hey, Monty. I. . .”

“You, uh—you’ve been missing for a few days. No one knows where you are. Could you maybe. . .show up?”

“Look. This is ridiculous. Where are you?”

“Please come back. Please be okay.”

“I miss you.”

She called every night. He never answered.

~~~

Mack pulled the kid into a hug, drowning out the crowd. Lightning was grateful for the embrace and the relief from all the noise.

“I’m real happy to have you back, bud. You gave everyone a real scare.”

Lightning couldn’t help his laugh. “Sorry I pushed you so hard.”

The hand rubbing up and down his back let him know that Mack didn’t hold anything against him. His past actions had been forgiven. Left behind alongside his ego. Lightning pulled away before tears could bleed into Mack’s collar.

“Aw, it’s all good, kid.” Mack ruffled his hair until Lightning was batting at the hand, giggling and wiping his eyes. “Sorry for letting you get stranded.”

McQueen smiled softly. “It’s all good.”

Suddenly Mack lit up with recognition. “Oh, hey! Here—“ he dug through his pocket and pulled out McQueen’s phone. “You left it in the trailer. Though it’s probably seen better days.”

The younger took it. It had a few cracks more than he had left it. Lightning wondered if one of his many, many trinkets fell onto the device. A small part of him said to toss some of that stuff out.

“Thanks. Probably time to just get a new one,” he pocketed it. “I, uh. I think I’m good not talking to Harv just yet, anyway.”

“Think he’s got an earful for ya?” Concern filled Mack’s voice.

“Nah.” Maybe. “He probably won’t like the news, though.”

“Oh?”

Lightning turned over his shoulder. The people of Radiator Springs, laughing and enjoying the moment. Good, honest, caring people who had come to support him. The only one missing was that head of blue. He couldn’t wait to see her. To spend a lot more time in the town that had changed his heart. This—they were his new home. It was a warmth he hadn’t felt in some time.

Yeah, Harv wasn’t gonna be too happy.

“I’ll tell you later. Come on, I want you to meet everyone.”

~~~

If nothing else, the view was amazing.

“Miss Maisie,” said a smooth voice. Unfortunately, one she recognized.

She sipped her coffee. “Mr. Tell.”

True to his name, Mr. Tell always had something to say. Maisie once wondered if perhaps that had informed his title, or vice versa.

“Funny we keep running into each other. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were following me.”

“Well, you know I just can’t stay away,” she returned with a politeness she didn’t feel. Tell was a friend to the director. Maisie always had to play nice. “Party was canceled?”

“Not hardly. I noticed a certain golden shadow was missing.”

She hid a sigh in her cup when he sat across from her.

“What’s got you so forlorn? You never miss a party. Til the last hour, you’re ever present and engaged,” he told her as if she didn’t know.

Despite how she felt about them, Maisie always made sure to attend every event and after-party. As small as her roles were, she had a responsibility to interact. This had been the first time she skipped.

The events of the past week threatened to spill through. But Maisie was nothing if not good at hiding.

“Sometimes a change of scenery is nice. Especially when there’s a good deal on coffee.”

Mr. Tell snorted. “I sure do enjoy bad coffee on a warm evening. Shame about that racer, huh?”

Her nails dug into the styrofoam. His chuckle was poison.

“You know, I saved that offer for you. Your career would take the skies with a good agent. I could be that for you.”

“Maybe.” Nah.

“So it’s a yes?” His hope was both amusing and annoying.

“You’re too kind, but I’m good here.” As she has said more than a few times before.

“Are you?”

“Can’t beat this coffee.”

He dipped to catch her eyes, silent. Despite the sunglasses on her face, she felt exposed.

He sucked in a breath. “Director’s been talking about letting some of you go.”

Maisie froze. She tried to control her voice, hide the tremble.

“That so.”

He nodded. “Too many faces in the crowd. It’s not his vision—his words, of course.” Sympathetically, he added, “he just doesn’t see what’s in front of him.”

Carefully, in a controlled motion, she turned towards the city for comfort. “Well. Seeing what’s in front of him is his job.”

“Yeah, but he’s not the best at it, is he?” It shouldn’t have, but the care in his voice made her eyes mist. Made it feel real.

When she said nothing, he reached out to pin her chin between two fingers. She tugged away before he could. He sighed.

“Look, Miss Maisie—you could have it all. I’m telling you that you could have it all.”

“And that’s up to you?” She challenged in a watery voice. She grimaced at how abrupt she had responded. Too much. Her control was slipping.

His eyes softened, too kind for what she was comfortable with being faced. “Course. I know all the right people, the right companies. I’d put you at the top. It’s what you deserve, don’t you?”

She stared at him as if he would break her heart, should she hand it off. She held herself by a string, as she was so good at doing.

The problem with strings, and holding them so often, though, was their fragility.

“It is what I deserve.” She stood. He followed, looking bright.

“Atta girl. I already have a contract. Give me the night and I’ll have it to you by tomorrow afternoon. Good?”

Maisie tipped the drink down her throat. The city fell on her back, emboldening her. When she felt as though she had lost everything, it was there. She still had the lights.

With nothing else, it was home.

Their hands came together in a firm agreement. His was large and sure. She didn’t meet the strength of his grip, but he said nothing of it. She could tell he was plenty content.

Maybe eventually, she would be too.

“I won’t sign anything.” Not yet. Call her desperate, but she wasn’t stupid.

His smile was silk. “Course. You’re smarter than that, Miss Maisie. We can explore all the terms and conditions as much as you feel comfortable to.”

She inhaled deeply, relishing the night air. It felt like a last taste of freedom, in a way, though this was all her choice. A prisoner of her own surrender.

~~~

“That all?”

Maisie nodded, trading cash for the bag of snacks. She had a long drive to the airport. Candice had offered her dad’s limo, along with her bubbly company, but Maisie hadn’t really been willing to spend such a long time in an enclosed space with the one person who would be inquisitive enough to poke at her resolve. Candice had already seen her break down. That was more than enough vulnerability for Maisie.

Her phone buzzed. Checking it, she saw a text that read “‘be safe! Miss you already!’”

She cracked a smile. Candice was a sweet person. She hoped her friend would never lose that.

“‘Miss you to pieces, I’ll call when I land, literally freezing here, wish this place had hot coffee.’”

Send.

Her phone buzzed several times soon after (no doubt separate responses to each part of the message), but Maisie had her hands full with the bag and her (very cold) espresso. She thanked the cashier, shook her head when offered the change (“hands are full, keep it.”) and pivoted to walk out.

Then she heard it.

The small TV behind the register had been nearly mute the whole time. She had only noticed it when paying. But the voice was unmistakable. She couldn’t ignore it if she tried.

“‘It’s all in the past,’” her brother said in a kind, earnest voice unlike every other one of his media appearances. It was so like when he was home, Maisie felt herself choke up. “‘I’m starting anew. Someone real important to me taught me better.’”

Maisie tensed. Who was so important to him all of a sudden?

“‘So does this new start entail any other changes?’” The reporter said.

Monty nodded with a grin that could blind the sun. “‘I’m setting up my new headquarters in Radiator Springs.’”

“‘Radiwhat?’”

Maisie was already on her phone, searching up the place. She managed to balance her stuff in one arm, drink under her chin. Meanwhile TV-Monty went on about a cute little town off the map—made sense why she couldn’t find anything—that he had made a home in.

And that was where Maisie faltered.

Home, huh?

The cashier hummed. “Been a minute since I’ve heard about that place.”

Maisie’s head shot up. “Do you know where it is?”

“Over in Arizona.” She gave Maisie a look that bordered amusement and sarcasm. “Bit of a drive coming from here.”

Maisie deflated. That was on the opposite coast. Was she actually hoping to see him? Like, now? Well. . .

Yeah, she kind of was. Gosh she wanted—no, she was determined to see him. Especially after that scare. He was far away, but he was right there. Her brother had what sounded like a—

She let out a heavy breath.

A home. An actual home, he had admitted. Happily.

Had he moved on? What if he didn’t want to see her?

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” she hissed to herself. That was her brother, though miles and miles west. It was pretty funny, actually. He had always felt lightyears away since leaving. Like if she tried to reach him, they wouldn’t even be in the same galaxy. Was that dramatic?

“Yes,” she whispered to no one, eyes low though she couldn’t help it. The cashier had already begun helping another customer as Maisie stood at war with herself, nursing a coffee too cold to enjoy. Hardly warmed by the gas station walls.

Eventually she found the sense to at least go have her crisis in the car. It didn’t make the situation any easier, but at least she could use the heater.

She grimaced upon first sip. Maybe she should just toss the drink. For now she reached into the store bag for the hot chips she was looking forward to. Digging through the mess of packaging and wrappers, she eventually pulled them out. Blue.

You’ve got to be kidding.

Maisie fell into her hand. How had she managed to grab cool ranch Doritos of all things?

Monty would usually laugh at her, commenting about how she needed to ‘get off of autopilot.’ He always had her preferred spicy chili chips in hand for exactly those moments. She would usually stick her tongue out very not childishly as he grabbed at some red licorice. A candy she couldn’t stand but he somehow went wild for.

Sighing, she tossed the chips in the back, unwilling to brave the cold again. She would just have to deal.

In the meantime, she pulled out her phone and opened the navigation.

Almost 40 hours to Arizona. No clue on how to get to Radiator Springs. Would she even find it?

“It’s times like these when one must improvise,” she muttered under her breath. Back inside she went.

“Excuse me?” She asked the cashier in a sing-song. “Could you—I mean, if you don’t mind. How would I find Radiator Springs?”

The lady’s brows shot up. Maisie inclined her head just so, confirming the silent question.

Nodding in an impressed manner, the cashier leaned on her elbows, gaze tilting upwards. Her thin frames slid down her nose. “I haven’t been in some time. You might wanna try asking around that area. I remember a long road into town, so might run into someone soon enough.”

Maisie nodded, wondering if she was really about to do this. “Thanks. Could I get $20 on 4, by the way?”

She paused in the middle of gathering her wallet. Her heart sped up.

“Do you have any licorice?”

She was really about to do this.

~~~

“You almost done, buddy?” Mater asked for the 17th time.

Lightning sighed through his nose, losing against the chuckle that spilled through. “Mater, this is the best part. Just let me finish the chapter.”

“But you said that about three times already!”

Lightning paused. “Well, those have all been the best part.”

Mater pouted. “You ain’t no fun when you’re stuck in them books.”

“Sorry,” Lightning said with an apologetic smile.

While Mater went back to working on the car he had been tasked with by a tourist, admitting that he might as well pass the time productively until the two of them could go tractor tipping, McQueen dove back into his book.

Alice in Wonderland used to be nothing to him. He had never understood the nonsense of it all: random rabbits scurrying by; mean hatters at tea parties; queens that played croquet using flamingos. The story would just give him a headache and he’d go back to running around outside while Maisie kept reading, absolutely enthralled.

Monty smiled. She had always told him that it wasn’t ‘supposed to make sense, it was about the whimsy of it all,’ or something. She would always look so content reading it. The memory of her smile warmed him.

The book really was charming, now that had taken the time to enjoy it. Even if it still didn’t make sense. He wished he could tell her how it had grown on him.

So many unmade phone calls and missed visits sat between them. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she probably had everything going for her. Monty always knew she was talented. A natural born star. If he made it as far as he did, then no doubt Maisie had soared.

She didn’t need him. Probably didn’t want to hear from him, after so long.

“All done!”

Lightning glanced over his book as Mater reappeared from underneath the vehicle, covered in more oil and dirt than usual. His friend gave a hopeful, buck-toothed grin.

“Now are ya free?”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Lightning packed his book away and stood. “Yeah. If Sheriff rats on us to Doc, though, I’m blaming you.”

That earned him a snicker. “Shoot, we gotta get caught first.” Mater’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

They always got caught, and Sheriff always told Doc, and Doc always chastised Lightning for causing trouble but Lightning always wormed his way out of any consequences with his famous puppy dog eyes™️. He knew Doc didn’t actually fall for it, but he usually humored Lightning. And made him apologize to Sheriff despite them all knowing they would be back through the cycle again.

As it went, and as he liked it. After apologizing (while holding in their smiles) Lightning and Mater would hit up Flo’s for milkshakes. She would put extra strawberry in McQueen’s, while Mater stole his cherry (Flo would leave them a bowl anyway). Slowly others would melt into the diner for a late meal or coffee. Sally and Doc would gather for their weekly game night, waiting on Sheriff who would eventually walk in muttering about the boys’ shenanigans. Mater would spot him as Lightning heard him, and they would both try to hold in their laughter. Doc would shuffle cards and send a pointed look their way, but ultimately keep his lips sealed.

They all had their routines, flowing naturally around one another. It made each day familiar and fun, quaint as the town was. Their own special little nonsense. Lightning felt at home.

Maisie would love it here.

~~~

As usual, the phone went to voicemail. Still, Maisie left a message.

“Hey. So remember how we agreed that if it ever came down to it, we would drop everything and cross space to get to each other? I mean we were, like, ten. Hang on,”

She smiled when it was her turn. “Hi. Just a lemonade please. Large. Thanks so much.” She paid and put the phone back to her ear, stepping to the side. “Sorry, had to order. I actually haven’t eaten this much fast food since we were teens. I just got the drink, though. I ate earlier. Do you still like strawberry soda?”

Maisie glanced at the menu item. “‘Going soon!’”

“Better get it while you can.”

She met the employee when called for her lemonade, passing him a ‘thank you.’ She continued her voice message as she headed back to the car.

“Anyhow, I’m heading your way. Surprise!” She slid behind the wheel. “I know where you are. If you don’t want to see me, then. . .” Her eyes dampened until she blinked furiously to stop them.

“Then too bad. Be there soon as I can. If you get this and run, I’ll follow you to the sun and back.”

Maisie pulled out of the lot. Maybe she was just being a pain, too stubborn to move on and live her life. Let Monty live his. He had a successful racing career, a place to live, people who cared enough about him to impart wisdom and even take him in. He was set. Was Maisie really about to disrupt that?

(“When you get out there—and it’ll be you first, trust me,” Monty started. “I don’t care what happens. We call every day. When you become rich and buy a mansion and write, direct, produce, and star in your own movie or stage play, I’ll find you.”

Maisie snorted. “Weren’t we both supposed to star in our own movie or stage play?”

“Not a chance.” Monty flicked her tiny hat. “You’re going way further than I ever will. You’re too good.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” She meant it.

Fireworks burst out in the distance. Mama ran outside with an armful, crying ‘happy new year!’ as she hugged them both. They all guzzled apple cider and traded spoonfuls of black eyed peas and grapes. Monty cringed as he swallowed the peas but happily ate the grapes. Maisie helped herself to another cup of cider. Mama kissed their cheeks.

“My babies. Happy new year.”

The twins echoed it back to their mom, snuggled under her arms. They turned to each other, laughing for different reasons. Monty’s paper hat had fallen. Cider dribbled down Maisie’s chin.

“Happy new year,” they said together. More fireworks went off above them.”)

She sucked in a breath and hit the road. If Monty didn’t want her in his new life, he could tell her himself. She was going to see her brother.

Five minutes in, she was stuck in a sea of cars.

Maisie slouched in her seat with a sigh. Well, she would see him whenever traffic cleared.

[sally-the-pack-leader]

A friend of mine suggested I'd make a 2-4-0 locomotive OC based off of Linus(The Brave Locomotive) and Casey Jr.(Dumbo), so I did, lifting my art block(yay!)

Here's some info about him

Name: Colton

Basis: Unknown

Configuration: 2-4-0

Colton was built in the 1800’s somewhere in Europe, then was transferred to America in the late 1900’s to work in a lumber mill as a shunter and hauler. Unfortunately, Colton's life wasn’t very pleasant there; all the abuse he’s been enduring from humans has made him develop anxiety and trust issues. Years later, the mill closed due to a whistleblower exposing the mistreatment being used towards the engines and other vehicles working there, and Colton was destined to be scrapped. Fortunately, Colton was taken off the scrap list, and was instead transferred to a sanctuary railway. It’ll take a while for him to trust humans again someday.

[beelper-owo]

I am now going to post my SCP OCs because I want to and I'm procrastinating from important thing

SCP OCs list:

Isekai'd reality-bending mad scientist looking for cure for her condition creates two test subjects that she gets way too attached to. Abandons said subjects after surprise Foundation visit. Succumbs to powers and fucking DIES (Thanks GOC). (Alice; Named for "Alison" by Elvis Costello)

Failed experiment #2 has attachment issues and is a very willing test subject. Creator/"Mother" made him functionally immortal to try and preserve experiment/not lose data/not die because of ritual to preserve Failed experiment #1/not die because of Failed experiment #1. (Jack/Jack Flash; Named for "Jumpin' Jack Flash" by The Rolling Stones; DO NOT CONFUSE WITH THE OTHER FUCKER NAMED JACK, I WROTE THIS CHARACTER IN 9TH GRADE)

Failed experiment #1 speedruns that one GOC manual thingy. Starts drawing attention to Creator/"Mother". Last straw was when someone almost hit him on a bike, to which he responds by flicking the wheel to turn in front of an oncoming car. Creator sedates him, can't bring herself to kill him, and decides to try storing his soul in his younger brother, Failed experiment #2. Failed experiment #2 is not doing too well because of it. (Jules/Julian; Named for "Hey Jude" by The Beatles)

Failed experiment #2's therapist and friend. Sweet catholic lady. Very accepting. Not anomalous. Great with kids. Friends-to-Close friends-to-Lovers relationship with Former MTF agent. (Valerie Rose; The name sounded pretty, and she is pretty. :3)

Former MTF agent is currently a security guard. Not anomalous. Mixed race Venuzualan-Italian. Parents are first-generation immigrants to America, and therefore he has triple citizenship and is tri-lingual. Will curse you out in all three languages. Nice to his friends, standoffish to others. Was a US Army Ranger before joining the Foundation as an MTF. Got an injury (still deciding what injury) and was placed on security guard duty. Overworked himself, made the injury worse, and is now permanently on security guard duty. Very bitter about it. Friends with Failed experiment #2, Failed experiment #2's therapist, Frankish vampire, and Cursed doctor. (Jean Rocco; Idk I came up with the last name and it sounded cool)

Frankish vampire born 24 years after the fall of the Western Roman empire. Averse to human blood. Survived by living out of caves, sewers, catacombs, etc. and feeding on animal blood. Born with condition, symptoms developed as he aged. Left village after killing a cat out of desperation and hunger. Speaks a mix of Frankish and Medieval Latin. Eventually learns some French as territories/places/people expand. Learns English after being captured by the Foundation in October 2009. Friends with Failed experiment #2, Former MTF agent, and Cursed doctor. (Bertric Bertram; Bert-: "Bright", -ric: "Powerful", -ram: "Active")

Cursed doctor is a medical doctor who accidently pissed off a thaumaturgist and was cursed to go into a trance-like state everyday and carry someone to a random distance away from their original position. Was picked up by the Foundation after the curse led to him getting assault and attempted kidnapping charges. Has chronic pain from being shot in the side during one of these instances. Staff have to be warned everytime he moves to a different site in order to prevent him from being murdered. Is friends with Failed experiment #2, Former MTF agent, and Frankish vampire. (David Dopravce; Dopravce is Czech for "carrier", "hauler", "forwarder", or "conveyer", according to Google Translate)

[pastballads]

mun meme

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍!

★  NAME:  Luan

★  PRONOUNS: He/Him/Dude/Bro/My guy/etc.

★  BEST EXPERIENCE: I... honestly can't think of any? I've had more bad experiences than good. Maybe I'd say when I finally found my footing with independent OCs with Izren and ended up buddies with Bear and his whole entourage of writing partners. I've joined up on Discord servers with people I write with in the past, but I've never had fun like we do on his server. Plus we play D&D!

★  PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord is my go-to if you wanna reach me. I use Tumblr IMs too, though with how they're about as functional as a Bethesda game, I often ask if we can move over to DMs.

I've got my Discord tab open 24/7 on both my laptops, plus I have the app on my phone. I lurk a lot. But nine times outta ten, I'm more of a reactive replier, almost always messaging back rather than messaging first.

★  MOST ACTIVE MUSE: Kouki, always. Getting into the mood with him is so stupidly easy. Put on any rock music, think about any series, play a video game, whatever- and there's always something that makes me do that Leo pointing meme and think "Hey, that gives me ideas for that white-haired little gremlin!"

★  EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS: I've honestly lost track lmao. Ballpark estimate is 11-13 years since I started around 2010 to 2013, with my intro to roleplaying being those ancient Quotev quizzes and the chatroom website Chatzy. If I remember correctly, my first actual RP was either in a Sonic chatroom or a Naruto chatroom. And I've never even watched Naruto- I was going on nothing other than the Fandom Wiki. You could even say that my cringe-worthy OC there was the first iteration of Kouki. Only reason I still remember that chat was one of my writing partners died of some terminal illness. Basically drowned in her own blood.

After that, I moved here to Tumblr. It started with Pokemon blogs... then Steven Universe (where I saw them actively out-toxic the MLP fanbase and drive them out of the fanbase)... then I was the sole Soul Calibur roleplayer... then I made a Skyrim OC based on the Kid Dragonborn mod... then I fell back onto Naruto and joined the fanbase here with more cringy OCs... made my other, still on-going Pokemon blog about eight-ish years ago... joined the JJBA fandom, which was and still is the best fandom I ever joined... then I joined the RWBY fandom... then the BNHA fandom... and now we're here!

★  RP PET PEEVES:

I'm gonna cheat a bit and leave two of Bear's peeves, if only because he completely hits the nail on the head. There's just no better way to put it without rehashing things.

Excessive commentary blogging. Before it was just a lot of dash commentary that had me going 'eh'. But in recent years it's gone past that. I've become disenchanted with blogs that become largely commentary for whatever it is they're doing on Discord. All power to those Discord groups doing what they do! But it reaches a point for me that I don't really see them as indie, and it can feel insurmountable trying to interact with them if you're not entangled with their zig-zagging plotlines.

Blog hoppers. Because for a slow burner and long hauler like myself, they're the most impossible people to write with! Which is a shame, because a lot of the hoppers I come across do seem to have some writing talent to them!

Fandom RP events. When I was younger, I used to love the idea of these big events with their own plotlines and moving parts that anyone could participate in if they wanted to. Galas, holiday parties, festivals- stuff like that.

That lasted until 2018, when I kickstarted Bernadotte's original JJBA blog and brought back my long-running Pokemon blog. In the span of something like 5 months, eight separate RP events happened back-to-back in just the JJBA fandom alone. You can only try to participate and be entirely ignored for so long before it sours your whole outlook.

And I mean entirely. I remember writing twelve different starters that people asked for, responding to numerous open threads and starters, liking many different event starter calls, sending asks- the whole shebang. Not even once did I get anything back. If you enjoy fandom RP events, more power to you. But I've been burned too many times to even want to try.

★   PLOTS OR MEMES: Doesn't matter to me! Either way is great! Back in the day, I relied heavily on memes without any ideas for plot, just sending in whatever sounded like something my muse would say. Basically "Oops! All Memes!" Now? I put more thought into things. Overthink things too.

Receiving memes? I almost always ask if there was a reason or an idea driving my partners to send in that specific thing 'cause you never know, y'know? They usually do. But it really doesn't matter to me if they do or don't. I'm just happy to write with y'all.

★  ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: There's a little bit of me in every one of my muses! An example off the top of my head? Kouki is based on how I was as a kid his age. Corbin was inspired by my high school years, my love for old books and poetry, and my music tastes. My Pokemon OC was straight-up a self-insert when I started that blog. Tino came from my RWBY days and my absolute love for weaponry.

They've all got fragments of me in 'em!

tagged by: @dcviated Thanks bear! tagging: @pluviacuratio, @boomermania, @remunporium, @caestusvulpes, @fctedivided, @monmuses, and anybody else that wants to do it!

[aloe-vera-7]

Group photo with the gang

this took me 9+ hours straight holy shit

[afteriwake]

The Basics -- 2, 8, 9

The Specifics -- 18, 19, 20

2: Are you a pantser or plotter? Pantser. That's probably why I have so many WIPs where I go back to them and I'm all "Where the fuck was I going with this?"

8. Oldest WIP: Oh lord. I think I have some Buffyverse WIPs that I need to dig out of the text file from my old Yahoo Group alternabuffyfic, but the oldest one I have (from when I started writing it) is "Urge To Fight," which is a CSI: NY/Startgate Atlantis fic that I will finish one day. The oldest WIP I have on AO3 chronologically is "When In University..." a Pondlock xfic which I was going to turn into an original fic because I got told Sherlock was too OOC...then series 3 & 4 happened and I was vindicated that he's a soft little meow meow under it all, so fuck all the haters of that fic it's getting finished in the near future.

9. Current WIP: "What Stork Brings," a Star Trek AOS Spirk fic about them adopting twins. It was recently featured on a reblog by the Tumblr user who came up with the original post that inspired it, so I've gotten a lot of kudos and comments on it and, internet and writing time willing, I'm considering doing it for WIPBB this year. So no updates until September, but it would be finished.

18. If you could collaborate with anyone, who would it be, and what would you write about? I wanna write with my personal fic gremlin @strangelock221b! We have a series she drops the occasional fic in (The Best Laid Plans), but that's mostly my baby. I don't know what we'd right about...maybe a new series with her OC Leland and Mary Bennet, or something in the Star Trek AOS verse or the MCU. The possibilities are endless!

19. How do you keep yourself motivated? Honestly? I've been super unmotivated since, like, May of last year, when I got COVID and developed long hauler symptoms. I will probably start working more once I have housing, since it's super hard for me to not write on a table/flat surface, and I'm stuck at the shelter without internet most of the time (plus right now I'm putting most of my energy into finding housing before we need to leave the shelter). But right now I have an Urge to be artistic, so I'm probably going to work on 2023 WIPBB art claims and fanmixes for a bit and work on "What Stork Brings" when I can fully charge my laptop and sit at the dining room table, which is stuff I can do with a minimal need to be online.

20. How many WIPs and story ideas do you have? I have between 65 - 70 published WIPs up on AO3, I think. I haven't checked in a while. I also have a HUGE folder of prompts that I've been trying to whittle down by giving them to Molly Hooper Appreciation week participants in our new December round, though @apromptadaykeepstheblockaway (which is my newest prompt blog) and just to friends of mine who want simple prompts that they can apply to any ship/fandom.

A Writer’s Ask Game

[serpercival]

I'm working on-and-off on a fic with OCs that's set in the Doctor Who universe's 24th century, and I think I've landed the right vibe because all of the four main characters are fucking bonkers

Rayne, who was originally for my 2023 Paul Spragg submission, is a renegade Time Lord not by choice, but because they inadvertently exploded half their graduating class (nobody died! there were only minor injuries...), were made to work for the CIA because of it, and then had their first regeneration in the Fourth Doctor's presence and got fucked up by it.

AJ, who's a long-standing OC of mine, is a brilliant biotech researcher, but is also completely fucking stupid (they are permanently blind in their right eye thanks to an incident involving a crate of explosives and a pile of scrap wood when they were ~8 on their family farm).

Skaeya (SKEY-a) is an outcast Silurian who puts on exhibitions with dinosaurs at local rodeo shows. I don't think I need to say any more about her other than that she's awesome and I love her.

Finally, Korvi, a former Lupari scout and salvage hauler, who 1) fell miserably in love with his species-bond, AJ, 2) almost exclusively salvaged Cybermen and kept getting in deep shit for it because they would still be alive, and 3) is now working at the same research firm as AJ, trying to put everything he's learned about Cybermen to use. He is a wet little man of a character but deeply loyal and I want him to be my friend.

You can find all the lads made in HeroForge below the break, in the same order :)

[potterywalrus]

Hey there folks! It's been a while, but anyone interested in a star wars/Trekkie/Mass Effect type OC scifi setting? 

The edges still need smoothing out - I adore being ask questions, it really helps me worldbuild, and I'm not great at the minutae of galactic politics even though I can spin out characters like a mfer. I also have a list of characters (by no way definitive, I'm always happy to make yet more) and a handful of loose plot ideas and tropes I like.

I'd prefer you to be playing a human OC, mostly because I love interspecies friendships and romances, and it would be nice for such a pair to get along. I'm not particularly against nfsw scenes, but unless we immediately click really really well, I like to go for slow burn going into anything like that. 

Htmu for current OCs and their associated species

Some plot ideas (with the species most suited): 

First contact at school - early contact on earth, the Womperjess send many of their adolescents and juveniles to earth schools and colleges to learn alongside human youths. Maybe be someone helping them settle in? 

Mixed species pan-planetary university, settling into dorms and making friends (Doll!Azurite, Womperjess, Karsp) 

Fresh off the dirt - Adventures of the JIS Calliope, cargo hauler and occasional asteroid miner. (See OC list for Jute and Falcia crew members, other species besides human welcome.) 

Escaping the past (Helping Callah, raptori former slave, flee from his former owners) 

Black ops and dirty deals (Karsp and Ostrom, as well as Ajax the Jute) - hiring dangerous people for dangerous work or working with them. They probably need a good medic, in their line of work. 

Corporate intrigue - famous Javeen heiress seeks encouraging, plain-speaking friend and/or private investigator to help reconnect with her estranged, prideful, brilliant cousin. (Other species besides human welcome.) 

I'm a MASSIVE sucker for hurt/comfort heavy on the comfort end - I really like fixing up hurt characters, but I haven't the stomach for a lot of detailed whump like some of y'all. Mostly I just like people getting along and fighting together against the odds. 

As to myself, I'm a bisexual 34 year old transman (you anti-queer, don't look here) living in the UK, and you can call me Mal. I prefer to RP via email (bastloki@gmail.com) or gdocs, but I will attempt Discord only on the promise that no posts will be deleted without warning, except for those misposted or misclicked, if that makes sense. I've had some bad experiences. 

Don't hesitate to hit me up and I hope we have fun! 

[electronzekrom]

I haven't posted any art in a while- let's change that! Meet Wen-Khan, an Osmosis Jones OC I made way back during the pandemic. So, you can probably guess what kind of virus she is...

Aaaaand because of that, I've been really nervous about posting this, because even though we've been out of the pandemic for a while now, there are still people who lost loved ones or could be long-haulers. So, I didn't want to upset anyone. (And if this is upsetting/offensive, please let me know and I'll take it down ASAP.)

But I've had her for quite some time now, and as a result I have plenty to share about her, so stay tuned!