#anyways rust has a weird way of doing and saying things

[frutavel]

Flirting (?)

[yerchokito]

slightly suggestive? — not proofread

notes: hihihi do not fear, the snowleopard gojo fic is coming your way soon!

setting kitty!megs and puppy!yuuji up on a play date

megumi has trouble making friends, either he’s too ‘boring’ or just not interested in other playmates. So it’s hard to get megumi used to other people—especially other hybrids.

so when someone new moves next door with the cutest puppy hybrid you’ve ever seen! you just have to set up a play date with him and megumi.

megumi hates this idea.

yeah he wants to make you happy with making friends if that’s what you want— but you also seem to want him to bring home a ‘wife’ (or husband), which is weird because he has you and he doesn’t want to share.

but god, do you really have to set him up a whole play date like a child? and with a stupid mutt no less.

megumi just hates as that weird pink dog jumps on you, tail wagging as he licks you—ugh, now he has to get that stinky dog smell off you.

“awh—aren’t you just a sweetie!” you speak in a sickeningly sweet voice. why are you speaking to that dog like that? that’s for megumi only >:/

and now he’s stuck here. with an overly hyper puppy—is he even a pup? he’s twice the size of anything. (expect for megumi, of course)

“y’er owners real pretty. do you think they’d be willin’ to be a mate?” the pink idiot named yuuji asked.

megumi has to resist the great urge kill this mutt. is that idiot blind? can’t he see or better yet, smell his markings on you?

“don’t even try.” megumi warns, tail pricking up. though, his warning seems to have flown over yuujis head.

“why? they seem to like rubbin’ my ears a lot? are they already mated?” yuuji tilts his head to the side.

‘yeah, to me stupid.’ megumi wants to say, thing is you don’t actually know you’re mated to your precious kitty. n megumis too embarrassed to even mention it.

“jus’ don’t. they don’t even like dogs anyway…” which is a lie, annoyingly so. you love literally every hybrid on earth, it kills megumi a bit.

“huh? are you sure… cause’ they smelt really happy. they also smell really good, you’re lucky. got a pretty owner who smells like flowers takin’ care of you,” yuuji pauses, the rusted cogs in his brain moving. “wait, are you two mated?”

finally he gets it.

megumi doesn’t speak, just nods his head. he sees yuujis tail deflate before it starts to wag again. oh no.

“can we share?”

poor yuuji leaves with a couple scratches that day.

[flieslikeamoron]

For the ask meme, if you're still doing it! I wish you would write a fic where either Eddie or Steve can read the other's mind, or feel their emotions, or are otherwise psychically linked in some way. :)

Hiiiii! At one point I was thinking about writing a soul bond type of thing where the bat bites create a hive mind that Steve and Eddie share. Your ask reminded me of the idea so I wrote a little bit of what that could have been like. Some dicks and stuff behind the cut.

-*-

It’s not that weird.

Sure, it’s a little strange Steve always seems to know when Eddie pulls into the parking lot at Family Video. Even if he’s in the back room, couldn’t possibly have heard the rattle of the van’s rusted muffler. 

And yes, he can tell when Eddie’s hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Can tell without asking if he’s craving a burger or spaghetti. Can tell where Eddie is in a room without looking. Can feel it like a magnet pulling. But he knows when Robin’s hungry just by looking too. Or when she has a crush on someone. He knows when Nancy’s fed up or trying not to laugh. He knows when Dustin’s about to go off on some nerd rant before he starts talking. 

It’s just because they’re friends now. That has to be why he feels so much better when Eddie’s around. Like something he didn’t know was missing clicking into place. That’s friendship, isn’t it? 

It’s not that weird. 

Not compared to all the shit they’ve been through. It’s nice, actually, the way Eddie smiling at him sinks deep into him like sunshine on his skin. The way Eddie’s pacing footsteps or the drumming of his fingers on the counter thumps in a rhythm against Steve’s chest. Even when Eddie’s pissed, it rattles like rain on a tin roof in a way Steve kind of likes. 

It’s just because Steve likes him. It’s not a big deal that he hasn’t felt exactly like this about any of the other people he’s friends with. Any of the people he loves. Different isn’t bad. There’s no reason to mention it. What would he even say? Do you know when I’m thirsty too? Do you feel like a lock turning when you touch me? That does make it sound weird. And what if Eddie says no. What if Eddie has no idea what he’s even talking about. 

No, Steve will just give him a Coke when he knows Eddie wants a Coke. And bask in the smile that gets him. There’s no reason to bring it up. To make it weird.

Until.

It comes out of nowhere, heat building low in his gut when Steve’s in the middle of putting his laundry away. He’s got the phone trapped between his ear and his shoulder, Robin on the other end giving him a play-by-play of her latest not-date with Vicki. He puts the rest of his jeans away, trying to ignore how turned on he is for no apparent reason. But there’s something fucked up about having Robin’s voice in his ear while he’s popping a boner. 

“I gotta go,” he interrupts. “Sorry, I forgot I have to-” He tries to think of something he could be doing that’s not jerking off.

“Am I boring you?”

“No I just-” He stops again. This time because he has the oddest feeling. Almost the feeling of a hand on him. Of fingers pinching into his nipple. It’s never really done much for him, having his nipples played with. But a pulse of heat goes right through his balls. He curls a hand thoughtlessly against his boner, feeling the needy weight of it. “I’ll call you in a sec.” He can hear Robin protesting as he hangs up and tosses the phone aside. 

She calls right back, but he lets it ring. Too busy tugging his pants down. He can’t explain anyway. That he just really needs to get off right now. It’s rude as hell. He doesn’t know why he’s- But he’s so turned on. He’ll make it up to her after he gets this out of his system. 

He tugs his underwear down enough to get his dick out, starting to stroke himself with one hand, the other braced on his dresser. He likes to start slow normally, get himself worked up, but he feels strung tight as if he’s already been at it for a while. He spits in his hand, spreads precome down the shaft. Watching his hand move, the head of his dick red and slick in the circle of his fingers. 

There’s something wrong with his vision, something sort of blurry like a double exposure in a photograph. He blinks. It’s like the almost there of another hand, that’s not his hand. Of a dick that’s not his dick. He can almost feel it ghost against his skin when that hand moves, off rhythm with his. It’s making his dick throb, gut snarled tight with heat. It’s making him dizzy. He closes his eyes, and tries to focus on the slide of his hand. Just his hand. Tries to picture Phoebe Cates getting out of the pool. Perfect boobs and a slo-mo smile. But the picture in his head feels impossible to hold on to. Feels like he can’t- 

And then he’s seeing himself a little hazy and far away like looking through clear water. It’s him pulling himself out of the pool in his swim team speedos. Muscles flexing. Water streaming off him. Hand running through his own wet hair, and a cocky grin on his face. 

And okay, he knows he’s a good-looking guy. But he’s not- His ego isn’t this big. This isn’t the him he sees in the mirror. It’s sort of- Everything a little better than he actually is. The him he wishes he was. 

He didn’t- The shape of it feels wrong inside his head, like it doesn’t fit right. But he’s watching himself sitting down now, at the edge of the pool. And there's someone still in the water. There are hands on his thighs. A mouth on his cock. He can’t see much of the other person but long, dark, wet hair. He can almost feel it, the heat of that mouth on his cock. The sizzle of it through his mind going straight to his balls. And every time he strokes himself it’s like he feels it in his dick, and then he feels it again somehow like an echo throbbing through him. An overwhelming feedback loop of want and need and how good it feels. God. Fuck. I’m gonna come. He is gonna come, but he hears it against the inside of his head, and it doesn’t sound like him. It sounds like-

“Eddie?” he says cautiously. Out loud and in his head too.

He feels a quick stab of shock, fear. It feels like the rest of it. Sort of the wrong shape inside his body, inside his head. And then it’s like he’s got a song stuck in his head, but it’s a heavy metal song he’s never heard before. 

“Eddie?” He thinks it harder. Tries to make it a scream, send it out past the inside of his own head. But the music keeps going, the noise of it so loud he can hardly think past it, can’t hear past it to whatever Eddie’s thinking behind it. That is Eddie behind it though, he’s pretty sure. That was Eddie just now. The things Steve was feeling. That was what Eddie was thinking about while he was getting off. He was thinking about Steve. 

Steve should be more weirded out by that, probably. Knowing he’s starring in Eddie Munson’s wet dreams is a bit of a surprise. He didn’t even know Eddie’s gay. He waits to feel shocked or upset, but outside of being kind of confused how any of this is even happening, he doesn’t seem to mind it. It’s a compliment, really. If that’s the way Eddie sees him. He kind of likes it, actually, in a deep down, self-satisfied way that makes him wonder if he does need to work on his ego after all. 

He feels vaguely guilty that he accidentally ruined the guy’s jerk off session. He looks down at his hand on his dick. He’s not sure if he should finish now. It’s like stolen valor or something. Is he even horny or was he just piggy-backing? However he got here, he’s still pretty close. He gives himself a couple careful strokes. Can Eddie feel that? Or was it just a one way connection? He heard it when Steve thought his name though. The heavy metal is still fucking blasting, so maybe he can’t hear or feel Steve past that just like Steve can’t hear him. He doesn’t know if he should risk it though. 

It’s pretty fucking weird.

The kind of weird he can’t ignore. 

He takes a cold shower, the heavy metal stuck in his head starting to give him a headache. Could you turn it down a little? he tries thinking. If it gets through to Eddie, he ignores it. Steve tries to figure out if there’s a way to turn down the volume on his end. Putting his fingers in his ears doesn’t help. He tries counting backward from a hundred and that seems like it does something, sort of. But as soon as he stops counting he can hear the music just as loud. Maybe Eddie will turn it off on his own if Steve gives him a little time to stop freaking out. 

He’s got to be freaking out. Having the dude you’re jerking off about pop up in your head has to be the nightmare scenario of all time. But how is Steve supposed to tell him it’s cool if he won’t stop putting up a wall of sound?

Or maybe Steve could try something a little less direct than whatever this head to head connection is. He tries calling Eddie’s trailer. No answer. He tries the walkie. No answer.

He wonders if Eddie can tell he’s pulling into the trailer park like Steve can always tell when he’s pulling up the street to Steve’s house. Steve can feel it. That magnet tug as he walks up the stairs. That feeling just underneath his breast bone that always seems to orient toward Eddie like a compass pointing north. He wonders if Eddie can feel that too. 

But maybe he can’t, because he looks shocked when he opens the door. Wide-eyed for just a second. The music breaks apart in Steve’s head enough that he can feel fear, just for a second. Less than that. Barely long enough to notice if he hadn’t been paying attention. And then the music starts up again, and whatever Eddie’s feeling is hidden behind it. Behind the easy laugh as he reaches out to thump Steve on the chest with the back of his hand like normal. Says, “You couldn’t call?” like Steve didn’t. Says, “You’re lucky I don’t have a life,” and tugs Steve in through the doorway. Like normal. 

For a moment Steve thinks maybe it was all in his head. Maybe he’s just like- Losing it. Maybe he's making up weird shit and thinking he and Eddie have some kind of psychic connection and hearing things that aren’t there and seeing things that aren’t there. Maybe none of it is real. And there’s nothing weird here except him. 

But there’s music in his head. And he doesn’t know this song.

[thescarletnargacuga]

Hey there! I just wanna start by saying that I absolutely adore your work! You always know how to pull a reader right in, and I always get excited when you post something new (especially the Showtime stuff, but I'm biased on that front).

Anyway, to keep the train rolling, I've got a Harlequin request for you:

Pomni is out on patrol duty, with a plucky little Cade in tow. Suddenly, they encounter a group of rogue marionettes that somehow snuck their way into the occupied part of the city. Naturally, Pomni's protective instincts kick in, and she engages them.

Cade has never seen his mom in combat before, and he's pretty excited at first, but when he witnesses the level of brutality she displays, he becomes rather frightened…

(It's my first time making a request like this, so I'm really really nervous. I hope this prompt isn't too weird or anything)

A/N: Anon, Anon, come here. Come closer. I won't bite. THIS IS PERFECT! This situation gives a chance for mother/son bonding and growth. While the world they live in has improved, it's still very dangerous. Thank you for this!

~

THE WAY OF THE COMBAT HARLEQUIN

A HARLEQUIN AU ONESHOT

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

WARNING: intense violence, mechanical gore, trauma, hurt/comfort

~~~

Cade had accompanied his mother on her patrols before but they've always been in the inner city. The worst thing she usually dealt with was a neighborly dispute. It was mostly an excuse to get her son out of the house and have him run his energy out.

Now that he was ten, Pomni figured he was ready for a more outer patrol. While not leaving the bounds of the occupation, they were further out from the main population and therefore there was a higher risk of seeing something that wasn't a puppet.

"Do you think we'll see a seeker!?" Cade asked as he swung an old piece of pipe like a sword. He hadn't received any combat training yet, but it's been promised to him. It's a necessary skill to survive. He's heard the stories of his mother's exploits and he's no stranger to dangerous situations himself. "I'd like another chance to take down one of those mechanical mutts!"

Pomni smiled at her son's enthusiasm, seeing so much of herself in him, but her motherly instinct overrides her combat harlequin pride. "I doubt it. The border patrols can handle more than a single seeker, and besides, you're not ready for-"

A group of panicked puppets ran towards them. Pomni grabbed Cade out of the way of the stampeding crowd. Cade dropped what he was holding out of surprise and held to his mother.

Before Pomni could ask what was happening, a tall humanoid marionette vaulted itself over a pile of crates and landed on a puppet. It stabbed the puppet in the chest with it's right hand, sharp digits pierced the puppet's heart and pulled out the core in one swift motion. The puppet's body immediately went limp on the ground as the D.I.E was encapsulated in the marionette's grasp and stored in the forearm.

Pomni's body geared for battle, this was worse than any seeker. She drew her sword. "Extractor!! Cade, run!" She pushed him away from her, motioning him to go with the fleeing puppets. She didn't take her eyes off the marionette, these things were fast and looking away for even a second could be deadly.

Cade hesitated to leave, completely overwhelmed by what was happening. "But mo-"

"GO!!" Pomni rushed the extractor as it made a move to chase another puppet. She deflected it's attacking reach, stopping the extractor in it's tracks. She stood between it and the innocent lives that depended on her for protection.

Cade took a few steps away but instead of fleeing, he hid. He's never seen his mother in full combat mode. He shrank further into his hiding spot as he took in the imposing form of the extractor. It had no face, only a smooth yet rusted mannequin like appearance. It was much taller than his mother, with long limbs that flexed in unnatural directions.

"I don't know how you got this far, but this is where it ends for you!" Pomni lashed out at the extractor. It dodged and counter attacked, reaching for Pomni's heart.

Pomni spun out of the way and brought her sword down on the extractor's arm, right in the elbow joint. She twisted her sword, breaking the joint, and kicked the marionette away from her. She continued her assault with a lunge at the extractor's power source.

The extractor caught it's balance and side stepped Pomni's attack. It grabbed her by the neck and slammed her to the side of a building. It would have gone for her heart, but it's broken arm hung uselessly. The marionette recalculated it's strategy. It threw Pomni into a stack of barrels, making them collapse on her and knocking her off her feet.

Cade gasped. His mother was unbeatable in his eyes, but her being on the ground for more than half a second was enough for him to run out from his hiding spot and get between his mother and the extractor. "Leave her alone!!" He stood bravely but seeing the extractor up close made his whole body feel cold with fear.

The extractor moved its head down to look at the small puppet. Detecting a D.I.E within reach, it's remaining good hand rushed to extract it. It's pointed fingers didn't get close.

Pomni exploded from the barrel pile. Sword and eye blazing with bright yellow energy. She speared the extractor in the gut, pushing it away from Cade. It's feet dug into the earth but the strength of the smaller harlequin forced it back.

"DON'T!" Pomni carved her glowing sword up the extractor's torso.

"TOUCH!" She tore her sword out it's side.

"MY!" She jumped and brought her sword down with both hands.

"SON!" She stabbed the extractor in the top of its chest, driving her sword down through the power source.

The extractor fell to its knees. A mechanical whirring screech emanated from it. Sparks showered the ground as it struggled to move. As it's systems we're failing, it sent out a call for reinforcements.

Pomni ripped out her sword and decapitated the extractor. The head rolled as the body collapsed. She breathed heavily through her teeth, out of both anger and fear. Before she could address Cade, more fast approaching danger made her flare up more with energy.

Two more extractors and an even larger, tank like marionette rushed Pomni's position. Now she knew how they got past the border patrols. Pulverizers were huge, heavily armored, and had arms that touched the ground, making their movement more akin to gorillas than anything human.

Pomni transformed her mechanical arm and sprinted towards the incoming attackers. She shot at one extractor, it leapt onto a wall and climbed to the roof. She shot at the other extractor, it was hit in the leg and it tumbled before getting back to it's feet. She aimed everything she had left at the charging pulverizer. Rusted armor flew off the marionette but it didn't slow down.

Cade covered his head from the percussive shots, it was louder than he ever thought it would be. The noise scared him back into hiding. He stayed out of sight as his mother warcried.

When all five shots were spent, Pomni focused her energy in her sword and waited until the pulverizer raised its arms to attack. When it did, she slid under it and hacked off one of its back feet. The pulverizer stumbled and crashed into a building, momentarily stalling it.

Cade flinched when the pulverizer hit the wall. It's face and shoulder were torn open, it's old frame falling apart from ages of lack of upkeep. He looked back to his mom as she roared at the marionettes.

"PREPARE TO DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!" Pomni was confronted and flanked by the two extractors, who attacked simultaneously. The one on the roof tried to come down on her head, but she rolled away and slashed the second. The extractors collided, giving her a chance to charge her sword and cast a flying razor light wave at them both.

The light cut through the marionettes as though they were paper, cleaving them both in two as the pulverizer came charging back. Pomni gritted her teeth and focused energy into her gun. Yellow light gathered at the end of the barrel as she aimed it at the pulverizer's head.

"DIE!!!!!!" A harsh beam of light blasted from her gun, vaporizing the pulverizer's head and most of it's chest. It fell, sliding to Pomni's feet. She continued to yell as she stabbed and slashed at the remnants of all the marionettes until they were nothing but magled scrap.

Cade was horrified. His mother had never spoken like this in front of him, even at her most angry. He didn't recognize her as she angrily tore apart the remains. He stayed where he chose to hide long after she finally calmed down.

Pomni punted the head of one of the extractors into the distance. "AND STAY DEAD!!!" She huffed, her eyes still glowing with mother bear fury. How dare these things choose today of all days to break through to what is supposed to be a safe zone. Cade could've been killed!!

Her mind slowly cleared from the combat hyperfocus. "Cade!?" She looked around for him, hoping he was still safe. She didn't see anymore enemies, but what if he had been hit by debris? She spotted him peeking out at her, but he quickly ducked away.

"Cade?? Are you hurt!?" She rushed over, kneeling next to his hiding spot. What greeted her wasn't relief or gratitude....but fear in her son's eyes. "Cade?" The light in her eye faded, she appeared as herself again, despite the fact that she was covered in marionette oil splatter. "It's okay, they're gone. You're not in danger anymore." She reached for him, but he flinched away from her.

A flash of blue light announced Caine's arrival. "Pomni!? I just heard- oh, you already took care of it." He looked over the carnage, taking how overkilled the marionettes looked.

"DAD!!" Cade bolted from his hiding spot, and hid behind Caine.

Caine kneeled down to his son's level. "Hey champ, you okay? I'm sorry you had to see those things up close, but it's a good thing mom was here. She took care of the bad guys."

Cade fearfully side-eyed Pomni and hid in Caine's arms. "I want to go home." He mumbled.

Caine protectively held Cade close and lifted him up. "We can go home."

Pomni felt hurt that Cade didn't want comfort from her. She tried to get close to Caine but Cade whimpered when she did. She could see him shaking and kept back. "I...I need to search the extractors for D.I.Es and check the outer patrols. Make sure there aren't more of those things lurking around. I'll catch up with you later." Pomni sheathed her sword and held a stoic expression as she passed Caine.

"Alright...?" Caine watched Pomni walk away. She was never this stiff after battle. "Stay safe." He wished her before blinking away with Cade.

~

Pomni couldn't get Cade's fearful expression out of her mind. Did seeing those things really frighten him that much..? No, he tried to face one, despite being defenseless. Then what was he so afraid-......oh.

Pomni stopped what she was doing, feeling like an extractor's claw was around her heart. Her own son saw her fight with all her strength against enemies that didn't warrant it. She's handled far worse with less. She tore them apart to protect her son. That didn't make her a bad person, right?

She reflected on every battle. Every boss. Every rat that ever had the misfortune of crossing her path. She killed...for fun. Her bloodlust was never satisfied. When she couldn't find something to fight, Caine would take up the mantle of spar partner to curb her hunger, but she always craved more.

Pomni looked at herself in the reflection of a rain barrel, really looked at herself. Her soul felt warm in it's chamber, like it was trying to comfort her. "Am I a monster...?"

~

Cade stayed in his room the rest of the day, not telling Caine much about what happened. He hid in his favorite box in the closet. He felt safest there outside of his father's arms. His room door quietly opened and shut. Someone walked across the room and sat outside his open closet. He stayed quiet.

"Cade..." Pomni gently called to him.

Cade didn't respond. While he didn't truly believe his mother would hurt him, but now that he knew what she was capable of, he stayed in his box.

"Cade, I hope...I hope you know that what I did today was for your sake. Those marionettes are very dangerous. They could have killed you and so many others. I had to..." Pomni trailed off, her voice failed her as she wanted nothing more than to hold her son. "I only ever want to keep you safe, but the world we live in is stupidly not safe." She gave a sad chuckle, fighting tears. "I'm sorry today was so much...you weren't ready...maybe you never will be. Maybe that's what I'm afraid of..."

Cade peeked out from his box. "You're...afraid?"

Pomni quickly wiped her eyes. "Yes, I'm terrified. That one day, I won't be there...when it really matters... Please...don't be afraid of me...I would never...I could never..." Tears forced their way out, streaming down her face.

Cade's never seen his mother this vulnerable either. All of this was so new for him. She was always so strong. Unbreakable. Unshakable. Today he thought she was too strong and now...she pleaded with him as though he held her heart in his hand. "Dad said you kill bad guys. They were pretty bad."

"They were. Very bad. I'm sorry I got carried away in front of you, I just...needed to make sure they would never hurt you or anyone else again. It's what I was made for, Cade."

"To protect?"

"To protect this city. And you are part of my directive too, have been since the day you were born. I would fight the world for you, Cade, because I love you."

Cade climbed out of his box and hugged his mother. Pomni pulled him into her lap and nearly broke down with relief. Cade felt safe so close to his mother's heart again. Their soul energy greeted each other so warmly. "...it was kinda cool how you cut those two extractors in half without actually touching them with your sword. How did you do that?"

Pomni took a steadying breath. "It's very advanced soul magic. It'll be awhile before you learn how to use it. A long while. For now, I just need you to do something for me." She adjusted him in her lap so she could look him square in the eyes. She needed to make sure she had his full attention. "When something like this happens, and it will likely happen again, when I say run, you run. Understand?"

Cade nodded. "Yes, momma. I don't want to stick around those things again, not until I know how to swing a sword like you. Then I can help you fight the bad guys."

"I'm hoping one day you get to live in a world without them, but...you are a harlequin. We're specialized puppets, and you have the greatest advantage over all who came before you."

"What's that, momma?"

"You can write your own directive. No human will ever do it for you. You can choose your own path from day one. I know you'll figure life out because you're smart, like your father..."

"And strong like you, momma. I'll be the bestest harlequin ever!"

Pomni smiled. "Yes, you will be, and I'm already so proud of you."

Cade and Pomni sat together in the young puppet's room for hours talking about what the future could hold, and the plan for his future training. He needed to be ready. The world wasn't going to wait for him to grow up before it threw it's worst.

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

[Charlie Day conspiracy meme voice] so the thing is, right, is that Rust and Marty don't actually like each other back in '95. but their gambit with Crash is from '95. and Marty should absolutely explore the concept of Crash. carnally. which means he has to bring it up post 2012, when they're basically married and also working the PI firm together and not really married-married. because it's actually less weird if it's a sex thing within the context of an established romantic/sexual relationship, so they CANNOT be fucking in this timeline at this point. which means that either they have to do it for a case (unlikely: Rust is too much of a working dog for this to be fun) (he would be On Task the whole time) or Marty just has to bring up one day that Crash seemed like a good time. and he doesn't mean it like good time (sexual) except for how deep down he does, so he says it like good time (no homo) and either way Rust is like "what the fuck makes you think Crash was having a good time?" like EVER in his goddamn life. And Marty has to be like, didn't say he was having a good time, said he seemed like he would be a good time, which definitely sounds like good time (sexual) not good time (no homo), which is mortifying, but Rust is still stuck on the suffering of it all so he's not parsing the tone anyway, but mister acts of service is riled up now about this so he's grousing like "well I need some fuckin prep time to do this you can't spring this shit on me all sudden like," and Marty is like i ain't asking you to do this! i ain't asking you to do shit! (internally: what the FUCK are we doing?) and then he's like this is stupid we're done talking about this we're done here everybody shut the fuck up forever.

and then Rust shows up like two days later and oh shit he's in the Jacket. also probably on more drugs than Marty wants to even consider. and then the guys obviously do not actually immediately fuck because they are very married yet also cannot communicate for shit even post 2012 and no one is actually on the same page yet and wantin' things is horribly shameful anyhow so DON'T LOOK at your desires!! secret or not! do not look! so they have to be stupid about everything and go discover if they're too old for bar fights or not so we can get to the hurt/comfort of it all. and then of course eventually they fuck and Marty realizes that, no, actually, now that he's gotten that out of his system, what he really wants is to fuck Rust and then Rust has to be like, you don't have to be so goddamn Jungian about it, Marty, fuck.

and they kiss. the end.

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

i wonder if u agree, but sometimes when i read old man rust x younger oc, it's weird to me picturing somebody in early/mid twenties bc, realistically, that would make the oc around his daughter's age, and i don't think rust can go for that. i say that as somebody who's 23, so i don't mean to exclude younger women or whatever. anyway, that's why i really like your oc bc she seems like an actual match for rust and not bc of age, but bc she's just the type of person i can see him falling for, i guess? like directly canonically in the series, so yeah, thank you for your work!!! but that got me wondering: when u started to write, did you have somebody in mind already and thought of how that sort of oc will work with rust, or did u ask urself what sort of person compliments rust best? sorry if this is too much trouble.

NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE i think this is acc a super interesting ask!

my opinions below the cut…

⋆.���࿔*:･

RIGHT so i wanna preface by saying EVERY SINGLE rust oc story ive read so far has meat to it, like the authors know their shit and they should get their due snaps and kudos

i think i read younger ofcs with like a pinch of salt in the sense that i know it’s a bit crazy — btw this is coming from someone who had a “relationship” with a much older man at the ripe age of 16 — but i think it’s still good to read

things we experience can be ugly and uncomfortable but it’s still real and a part of me appreciates like keeping it real 💀 this is going to sound a little femcel of me but let’s be honest, sex is about power and the dynamics of that power give intricacies to stories that make them interesting! rust is a man (😔) and have you ever seen that one study of like ages of women men find most attractive and it’s a consistent 20 even as men get to like 70

yeah

keeping it uncomfortably real but real nonetheless

true detective is southern gothic and what i love about southern gothic is that it doesn’t shy away from touching on the less palatable corners of human existence/nature/WHATever. do i see why a daughter woman child thing as a love interest to a middle aged man with a dead baby is off-putting? YES. do i still read things along those lines because it’s interesting? ALSO YES. because more often than not creators are self-aware and explore these topics with nuance, which i respect massively

now onto like the sort of second part of you ask, beautiful anon…

when writing The Idler Wheel, idk if i was thinking as deeply when creating an oc as i was fixated on the weirdness of rust and ocs like yearning 😭? for each other, and the fact that he felt anything at all was a massive woaaaahhh for them both. the way we experience / act on desire (not even sexual just any kind but actually maybe especially sexual) says so much about a person and i guess that’s the single point from which i branched out, and every other aspect of her came later

the reason she/oc is not like twenty is because, similar to what you said, i cannot picture 1995–2002 (around that time) rust with a youngYOUNGGGG woman becaaaause holy shit i think he’d just die, like out of sadness or hurt, i think he wouldn’t be able to look at her at all 💀

old dog rust on the other hand does not give a shit about doing what’s “right” imo if that makes sense, like he’s who he is and he feels what he feels and i think this version of rust would be much more receptive to a younger woman, even if it’s “wrong” because he literally just doesn’t care anymore

i think the only reason The Idler Wheel girl was able to sneak her way in around that time is because she’s grown and a part of his workplace and therefore she should be “safe”, no more than any of his coworkers. so he lets her in his space and he lets her bring him coffee and he lets her do him favours because she’s just like the others and he just has to tolerate her, just has to see her

but of course she’s not like his coworkers and he can’t place why he wants her so bad, only that he does, which is bad because she should be mundane and she should be nothing and yet unfortunately he wants to be her dog

does this answer your q or did i go off on a tangent

i love you anon 💕💕💕💕

[luckbealincoln]

omgg u stay feeding us. but 60 and 221 give me such din vibes like… not being able to resist the need to provide. Anyways lovely chapter as always, continue doing ur magic bae��

Going Through The Motions

pairing : din djarin x f!mechanic!reader

word count : 1.4k

summary : mando visits you regularly for "ship maintenance." you know what to expect at this point.

warnings, etc : smut, light angst, masturbation, floor sex, fwb!mando, p in v sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, mando has weird dirty talk, the helmet stays on, creampie, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you REALLY squint, definietly an unhealthy relationship, mando is over protective but also refuses to commit lmao, toxic relationship

a/n : i uhhhhh took a lot of liberties with this request lmao, but i loved writing this little blurb (i made this strangely sad?? it sort of happened naturally lmao), it's nice to write a slightly different version of din than what i normally do, enjoy and i hope you like it !! :) this is my first time taking requests or posting anything that isn't bks so I'd love feedback!!

“I shouldn’t allow myself to get so close to you.” He murmurs in your ear as your back slams against the side of the exterior of the Crest. It’s a funny thing for him to say when his erection is pressed against your hip. 

“You say that everytime you come around.” Your fingers find the familiar notches in his armor as you begin to hastily tug at them. 

“And I mean it everytime.” His hands find purchase on your thighs as he yanks you upwards, you’ve danced this dance dozens of times at this point, everytime he stops in for maintenance on his rust-bucket of a ship you two do this. He mumbles something about it being the last time and you laugh it off, knowing it’s never true. 

This time there wasn’t even anything wrong with his ship.

You’d done a full sweep, double checked everything, not a single thing was out of place. 

It was probably cold in space. Maybe he just got lonely. 

He hauls you into the ship, your legs wrapped around his waist. He’s punching numbers into a keypad and the main door is shutting with a creak.

Where will he decide to take you this time? 

Most of the time he just pressed you up against a wall or tossed you into his cot. Sometimes if he was feeling patient you’d get all the way to the cockpit. Once he’d done you on top of a few boxes he was transporting. 

This time he doesn’t get more than a few steps before he’s laying you down on the floor.

This is new. Someone's feeling impatient. 

He’s hastily tugging down the zipper on his flight suit while your hands find the buttons on your overalls, his visor is trained on your figure as you manage to shimmy out of the denim, tossing it aside. He crawls forward on his knees, already stroking himself, hovering above you, his gloves discarded off to the side. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him. His free hand grabs the hem of your panties, shredding them like paper as he tosses the thin fabric behind you.

“Dickhead! I’m running out of underwear, you have to stop that.” You slap his shoulder but he only chuckles.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” 

“You say that every time too.” You're unclasping your bra, setting it down next to you before he gets a chance to destroy that too.

“I will this time, promise.” He gasps softly, letting his thumb slide over the ruddy tip of his cock. His freehand is spreading your thighs open. “Touch yourself, I wanna see.” 

“So bossy.” You mutter as you let your hands roam down your body before settling between your legs. Dipping your fingers into your already pooling wetness before circling your clit, slow and steady strokes. 

“That’s good… good girl, want my fingers?” His tone is light and teasing as he pushes two fingers into your mouth before you answer. No sense in protesting, you’ll be begging him for this eventually, why wait. Your tongue wraps around them as best as possible, coating them in saliva. Once he’s satisfied he brings them between your legs. “Keep touching that pretty little clit while I do this.” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” He sinks his fingers into your cunt as you continue your own ministrations, a familiar wave of pleasure washing over you. 

“My sweet thing. Look so pretty like this, on the floor of my ship, wanna keep you right here, make you feel this good all the time.” Your back arches against him, almost to prove his point. 

He always talks like this. 

In the moment he’s always so possessive, always says such preposterous things, promises and offers of a life together. The first time, when the words had slipped out a sense of hope had bubbled in your chest, a palpable joy that you were finally gonna get off this backwater planet. 

You had cried yourself silly when he had left an hour later without a word. 

He had left and he had taken his empty promises with him. 

Then he came back, and that time you let him say what you assume he needs to say to get off. The sex was good so why change the dynamic. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it. 

Speaking of good sex, you’re snapped out of your thoughts by your climax. It’s sudden and he practically forces itself out of you as he curls his fingers, stroking that spot inside of you as you ride out your orgasm. Once he’s satisfied he withdraws his digits, spreading your wetness across his length before notching himself at your entrance. 

“Do you want this, sweet thing? Want me to fill you up?” There’s that gravely desperation you’re used to. 

You’d love to ask what the deal with that is.          

His hopeless need to be wanted. 

He was always like this. Like clockwork, at first you thought that it must have just been another thing he needed to get off. Then it became deeper than that.

“You need me, tell me- fuck- tell me you need me, please sweet thing.” 

“What?” You had mumbled through your haze as he rocked his hips into you.

“Tell me how badly you need me. I’ll take care of you, you just have to tell me.”

It’s strange. You’ve already gotten off more than enough times and he had never been one to overstimulate you, he was always generous to the point of comfort, never more. 

That’s what this relationship was about. 

Comfort and getting off. It was never about necessity or obligation. 

“I-I need you.” You stammer out, still a little confused. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” He gasps out, pulling out to finish on your stomach. 

That was the first time he had held you afterwards. Wrapped you up in his arms and whispered to you. Told you he would keep you safe, make sure you were okay, and most importantly, that as long as he was around that you would be cared for. 

He was gone within the hour. 

Now this was the routine. 

He needed to be needed. 

And even though it hurt to give him the first few times, (that gnawing pain you had the first time he had made promises was back.) you got used to this too. 

“Lost in thought, sweetie?” He brings you back to reality. Your eyes settle on his helmet. 

“Sorry��� I need you Mando, please.” He needs to hear it, and you don’t mind saying it, to an extent. 

You do need him, you don’t get out enough because you’re always working. He’s one of the only people you get to talk to.

Those words spur him on, he sinks himself into your heat, your moans whiny and breathy. 

“Fuck- I know, I know you need this, you need me, my sweetheart, needs me to take care of them.”

“Y-yes, Mando, need you…” His thrusts immediately pick up, he maintains a brutal pace as he continues his ramblings. Demanding your praise. 

After a few minutes his thrusts start getting sloppier. 

“Want me to finish inside?” He’s panting frantically, his hands grip your waist to slam you into him. “Want me to fill you up?”

Why not, you can buy a pill tomorrow.

“Yes, I need it, please Mando I need you to cum inside me.” You squeak out, that’s all it takes. You finish one more time before he buries himself completely in your cunt, his seed spills out between the two of you. 

He collapses in a heap on top of you, the both of you panting in unison.

He goes through the motions, you’re used to the motions. 

He holds you against him, rolling over so you’re on top. His fingers play with your hair aimlessly as he mumbles some sort of praise you don’t catch. 

And he’s gone within the hour. 

You’re standing in the shop in your overalls, watching the Crest until it disappears completely. 

★

A few more moons pass. Days come and go. You don’t expect to see him again for a few months, he normally wouldn’t stop by until he had finished several bounties, or if his ship was in desperate need of repair. So it’s a bit shocking when a week passes and the Razor Crest is landing in your shipyard again. 

You wipe a bit of grease from your hands with a loose rag, brushing your hair out of your face once the engines shut off. The main door hisses before slowly lowering to the ground. He stands at the top of the entrance, walking towards you, tossing you a package wrapped in a paper bag. You cock an eyebrow at him, he’s standing next to you by the time you tear it open. 

12 Pack : Cotton Panties.

This isn’t part of the motions.

[shads-shipposts]

I love how 2025 decided to welcome me by smacking me with the first case of the flu I've ever had. But that ain't gonna stop me (even if it's annoying the piss outta me).

We're back with Allan and co, who are also gifted a headache in the form of Shadow. This will be the last "slow" chapter for a few, as things get very chaotic very quick in chapter 3.

Thanks again for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Also, woe to me for forgetting, but a big thanks to @showtimeatfreddys for being the beta reader for this fic. Y'all can thank them for act 1 going from 10 to 20 chapters, as they pointed out problem areas and plot holes so I could fix them before posting <3

Beginning: Here Previous: Here Next: Here Ao3 Version: Here

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Allan groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

He already had enough to deal with that morning, then the boss just had to come by and talk to him as if he were a child. Telling him things he already knew and warning him about the consequences for failure... which he also already knew.

How stupid did he really think Allan to be?

Did he really believe that Allan managed to gain control of the ship and crew by being an idiot?

He knew that damn FBI agent was trouble, and he knew not to give him any reason to come snooping aboard the ship. As for the warnings about keeping an eye on his crew lest one get cold feet, nearly all were too loyal to Allan to betray him and those who weren't as steadfast knew what fate awaited them if they stepped out of line and tried to play hero.

Tom slipped back inside the dayroom, sympathy knitting his brow. "You alright?"

"Don't know who that peacock thinks I am," Allan grumbled.

"What'd he say?"

"Oh, the usual." Allan leaned back on the couch, letting his head rest against the wall as he closed his eyes. "Keep an eye out for the agent, keep an eye on the crew, and don't forget I'm owned body and soul and should I think about double crossin' him he'll see to it I spend the rest of my miserable days rottin' in a cell."

Tom groaned. "Ugh, I really hate that man."

Allan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really hope he finds that wretched model ship he's goin' on about so we can get the hell out of here tonight."

"What's a model ship got to do with treasure anyway?"

"He thinks it will have a scroll, just like his does, and he can match them together."

"If he's wrong?"

"Either way, we're gettin' paid. One just has a bigger payday at the end." Allan shook his head. "For once, I'd like whoever takes over this rust-bucket to be normal. Is that too much to ask?"

"Might be."

Allan looked at the door as a new voice sounded. John Bailey stood just outside, a weird look on his face.

Allan groaned. "What is it now, Johnny?"

"May want to come see this," Johnny said, gesturing down the hall with a thumb. "We have a visitor. An American."

"Fuck me," Allan snapped, rolling his eyes. "That agent's back?"

"Not... exactly."

Allan exchanged a glance with Tom, curiosity creeping over the anger. "Interpol?"

"I honestly have no idea. He's a pretty lousy undercover agent if so."

Interest piqued, Allan pushed himself to his feet and settled his cap back on his head. "Show me."

The moment he stepped into the doorway of the lower gangplank, the hair caught Allan's eye. A dark reddish-purple, falling just to the top of broad shoulders on an otherwise fairly small frame. At least, small compared to the men moving around on the docks. He, or she, looked so out of place it was almost hilarious, sitting cross legged atop a crate scribbling furiously in a sketchbook.

"That's 'im," Johnny said. "Told 'im to sit there to sketch."

"He's certainly focused on it," Allan replied, keeping his eyes on the kid. He could see them, but they couldn't easily see him unless they looked hard. Considering how fervently they focused on sketching, he doubted they even knew they were being watched.

The odd sight of someone sketching wasn't exactly concerning, but the fact they frequently looked at the Karaboudjan was.

Surely, they couldn't be a reporter or journalist. Even from this distance, Allan wouldn't put them over twenty. Maybe over eighteen. Softer features didn't exactly help discern their age, or even their gender.

Then again, that ginger nuisance Allan and his men ran across near Egypt also didn't look like a journalist but had caused a world of hurt for Allan's operations. Looks could be incredibly deceiving.

"He say why he was around?"

"Apparently likes cargo ships and wanted to sketch one."

"That's it?"

"I came to get you soon as I could, so didn't really chat too long."

Allan grunted in acknowledgment, studying the kid's face as they looked up to get another reference of the ship. Just androgynous enough to fool someone at a first glance, Allan found himself leaning towards a woman. Late teens, not super exposed to hard labor outdoors judging by the lighter skin. But no stranger to physical activity, as while her arms weren't overly muscular they still had a definition to them found not through time in the gym but through a physically demanding sport. Coupled with her brazen trip to the docks by herself, signaling self assurance in her ability to defend herself, Allan would wager she had some form of martial arts under her belt.

Someone not to overestimate...

Wait.

Allan squinted, risking a step closer.

He couldn't be sure from this distance, but the kid almost looked... familiar? The features, the build, the length of the hair...

Maybe...

No.

Surely not.

His dream that morning was making him paranoid, that was all. It was embarrassing really, that a simple nightmare had him so rattled he saw Scarlett's face everywhere now.

Yet his eyes remained trained on the kid.

Now that he'd realized the similarities, Allan felt like he stared at Scarlett's doppelgänger minus the less than human attributes.

Whoever this kid was, he couldn't let her walk away without a few... harmless questions.

It was because of her clear fascination and focus on the ship, nothing more. He just needed... needed to keep an eye out. The FBI and Interpol could have spies everywhere.

It was purely business.

It wasn't personal.

It wasn't dire.

It wasn't Scarlett.

"Good work, Johnny," Allan murmured. "I'll handle it. As you were."

Johnny dipped his head to Allan and headed back inside, only to be replaced by another member of Allan's crew.

Brawny with broad shoulders and a long torso, Neil Irwin wiped some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Mornin', boss."

Allan didn't look away from the American. "Mornin'."

"See somethin'?"

Allan dipped his head towards the kid. "We got a watcher."

"Yeah, she's been there since I started unloadin'."

Allan glanced at him. "Talk to 'er?"

Neil shook his head. "Didn't see a need to. She's outta the way, and is mindin' 'er business. Ain't botherin' no one."

Allan turned his attention back to the kid. "Right."

"Should I have?" Neil asked.

"Not sure yet," Allan replied slowly.

And he hated that he wasn't. Uncertainty could put you at risk to be blindsided, and blindsides were a death sentence in Allan's line of work. Especially right now.

"Nice hair, though," Neil commented with a small laugh. "Reminds me of my sister, she always liked dyein' 'er hair fancy colors."

Tom tilted his head as he watched her scribble. "Purple, though? Bit anachronistic, don't ya think?"

Neil glanced at Tom and elbowed him with a sly grin. "Didn't think you could manage big words like that, Tommy."

Tom glared at him, clearly fighting down a smile of his own. "Piss off," he growled, shoving Neil.

"Stow it," Allan snapped as the pair started going for headlocks and rib shots.

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, smacking Neil's hat off in one last blow.

Tom, you well-meaning but unobservant idiot.

"Look at 'er face."

Tom gave him an odd look, but peered across the docks. "Is there... somethin' I'm lookin' for?"

Fuck's sake.

"She doesn't remind you of Scarlett?"

Tom's eyes widened. "Oh... shit, yeah. I see it now," he murmured.

"Wait," Neil exclaimed. "Scarlett was real?!"

Allan smacked his arm. "Keep your voice down!"

Neil winced. "Sorry. Just... I thought she was just a drunken ramblin'."

"How'd you hear of her?"

Neil rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, Harry. Got pissed one night and went on and on about this alien sheila with a bloody tail of all things."

"Oh, she had more than a tail," Allan muttered, not at all surprised that Harry Hobbs was the one to tell Neil.

Allan only allowed him to drink on the ship, away from outsiders, because it was a very risky gamble what would come out of his mouth. Could be professions of love to the crew, could be a challenge to the mermaid figurehead in the card room, or it could be details about his rather adventurous port endeavors that no one wanted to hear.

"He mentioned shapeshiftin' and ice powers, too, but I didn't believe 'im since he's said crazier things." Neil shook his head in disbelief. "But you're sayin' she's real? Not some drunken hallucination Harry saw?"

"Either she was real, or the entire ship had mass psychosis."

Neil looked over at the kid again. "Damn... aliens are real," he rasped, then looked up. "She come from space? How the hell she end up on the ship?"

Allan wished he knew the answer to the first question. At one time, he felt like he did. He was fairly certain Alphians weren't on Earth through technological means, what little information he could recall about their history pointing to migration through magical portals.

But at least he could answer the second.

"We were taken over by a group of mercs, who first employed our help to hunt down one of their fugitives. Turns out they didn't play fair, and ordered us to stop at a small-town pier in the middle of nowhere near the coast of Virginia in the states. More and more mercs joined them, and it really looked like they planned to off us."

"Sounds bleak."

"It was. Then Scarlett showed up. She had two allies with 'er, but one joined the mercs and the other was killed by 'em to try and threaten Scarlett. She didn't take kindly to it, and came to me to ask permission to kill the merc who killed her friend."

"An alien with supernatural powers asked permission?"

"She feared me, apparently." Allan then snorted. "Not enough to not knock me out and go after the merc when I said no."

"What happened after that?"

"That's just it," Allan grumbled. "Everything goes fuzzy after that. Only one man has any more memory of Scarlett after me."

"Who?"

"Me," Tom said. "I saw 'er leave the ship and went after 'er, but one of the mercs found me." He ran his fingers over the jagged scar on his cheek. "Almost did me in, but Scarlett saved me. She got 'urt in the process, though. Tried gettin' 'er back to the ship, but... it all goes fuzzy for me too."

"Let me... get this straight," Neil said slowly. "The ship was taken over by mercs, you had the luck of comin' across a supernatural alien who initially helped but turned against you, then the memory of 'er just... ends. No leads, nothin'?"

"She didn't betray us!" Tom protested. "She just... went against Allan's orders. She was pretty bent on revenge for her friend's death."

"But you haven't been able to track 'er down since then?"

"I haven't been able to track down information on her damn species, let alone Scarlett herself," Allan grumbled.

"She kinda just vanished without a trace," Tom added. "We're still not exactly sure what all happened those few days she was 'round 'ere."

"And you think the sketcher is her?"

Allan shook his head. "Not a chance. Scarlett had some... unmistakable traits. But this kid looks very similar otherwise."

"No offense, boss," Neil said slowly. "But is that the only reason you're so fixated on this kid? A similar appearance?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot," Allan growled.

"I'm not," Neil said, unshaken by the anger in Allan's tone. "But it still sounds like some fever dream."

"I'm not the only one who remembers 'er, Neil."

"It's strange, I won't lie," Neil said. "And I'm certainly not sayin' it didn't happen." He looked towards the kid again. "But I draw the line at goin' after people who are mindin' their business."

He had a point, Allan had to admit. While Allan didn't look down on collateral damage for the same reason Neil did, he still didn't care for it. Collateral damage could get the wrong people involved, people who otherwise would have been content to look the other way until they were personally affected.

This kid, whoever she was, most likely wasn't any sort of undercover rat. Undercover agents sought to blend in, lay low, and stay on the outskirts. The big guns would be brazen and demand to inspect the ship, bringing a large force with them. She was... somewhere in the middle. Not challenging anyone, but not hiding either.

She clearly didn't know anything of the illegal dealings carried out on the ship.

Getting this kid involved could horribly backfire on Allan and his men, and the last thing they needed at the moment was more heat.

Maybe it was better to just leave her be. He should be focusing on the current job, not living in the past chasing ghosts.

Making a scene would only land him in hot water with more entities than he cared to take on at once.

"Oh, almost forgot," Johnny said, joining them again. "Got a name from 'im."

"Her," Tom corrected.

"Her?" Johnny echoed. "You sure?"

"No," Allan said before Tom could reply. "What was the name?"

"Shadow."

Allan's heart damn near stopped, his eyes flying wide as he looked at Tom.

No way. There was absolutely no way this was just a coincidence.

The dream, the Alphian on the docks, the kid's appearance, her interest in the Karaboudjan, her fucking name even...

This kid had a connection to Scarlett. Allan wouldn't even entertain the idea she did not any more.

The only question was how.

"What?" Neil said. "Why's that matter?"

"Shadow... was the name Scarlett first used," Tom croaked. "When she was tryin' to conceal 'er identity."

"That does it," Allan said. "I'm havin' a talk with that kid."

Tom looked at him, somewhat alarmed. "What if she bolts?" He gestured to the both of them. "We're not exactly the most friendly lookin'. Al, we can't risk that."

"Good point," Allan muttered, then turned to Neil. "Go try and talk to 'er."

Neil wasn't exactly any less physically imposing than Allan or Tom, but him alone may not be as threatening.

Neil looked less than thrilled with the order. "Just talkin', right?"

"Not gettin' cold feet, are you?" Allan asked, tone low.

Neil stood his ground. "No. I know what I signed up for, though, and one of the rules was no women or kids."

Allan knew damn well what the rules were; he implemented them himself.

"Bloody hell, we're not hurtin' 'er," Allan retorted. "All I need you to do is keep 'er distracted so we can get close. If she likes cargo ships like she said, she shouldn't mind talkin' to a man who works on one. No threats, just talk to 'er."

"And if she runs?"

It pained Allan, but he said, "Let 'er. Do not make a scene."

"Not... gonna do anythin' to 'er, right boss?" Neil asked, a new hardness to his tone.

"No, she's not in any danger. How many times do I need to say that?" Allan demanded, straining to keep his volume low so he didn't alert Shadow. "I just have questions for 'er."

Neil still didn't seem convinced.

"Just go," Allan ordered.

Neil hesitated, then headed for Shadow.

As Neil left, Allan turned to Tom. "Alert the boys. Get 'em to block the exits, but discreetly. Wait for my word, this could be nothin'."

"Thought we weren't makin' a scene?"

"That's why we block the kid's escape. Once she's surrounded, I can control the situation better."

"What if she notices and runs before they can close in?"

"If there's a gap, let 'er through. But once the circle closes, don't let 'er out.

Tom nodded and left to carry out the order.

Allan turned back to watch the kid, eyes narrowed.

Nothing personal.

I need answers.

And you're not goin' anywhere until I get them.

[olympeline]

FrUK FACE family Parent Trap AU, part 9! Part 1

Last time: shock! Horror! Alfred, and by extension the whole scheme, just got rumbled! By Uncle Gil of all people! Who could have seen it coming? Not Alfred. But then he hasn’t known Gilbert long. Under that nutty exterior tick-tick-ticks a surprisingly sharp mind. Gilbert had been suspicious almost from the start. He didn’t say anything because that’s not his way. But now things have gone on long enough that even Gilbert has to step in. If for no other reason than he needs some news of Mattie.

So, under threat of an immediate call to Francis, Alfred is forced to confess all. They sit down over delicious and nutritious frosting sandwiches and Alfred tearfully confessses all that’s gone down since the twins were reunited. Everything from their chance meeting to their time living the other’s identity. Gilbert doesn’t let him off the hook, prodding for details and making Al show him his phone so he can confirm what’s been said. Alfred burns with embarrassment when Gilbert scans some of his early descriptions of him (the words “freaky” “weird” and “totally batshit” may or may not have been used) but Gil doesn’t comment. The let up in the grilling (gilling?) is when Gilbert sees a picture of Arthur in his conservative dad clothes.

“HA!! Mein gott, that’s precious! Old punkass, slutbag Kirkland turned into a right old tory, huh kid?”

“What’s a tory?”

“Ask your dad. He dresses like one of their rentboys.”

“What’s a rentboy?”

Gilbert changed the subject after that. To what the two of them intented to do now. How long were they planning to keep this up? What were they hoping to achieve? Alfred just shrugs helplessly. They weren’t really hoping anything. He tells Gilbert they just wanted to get to know the other half of their family. Finding the missing piece that’s always been there for both of them. Gilbert listens, takes another look at Alfred’s phone, then gives it back. Alfred sees it’s open on a selfie of Mattie and Arthur. Matthew has an Alfred-style big, sunny beam. Even after playing his brother for weeks, Mattie isn’t a good enough actor to fake it to such an extent. Gilbert knows him well enough to see that.

Alfred haltingly asks what Gilbert’s going to do now. Gilbert is quiet for a long time. Then he shakes his head, grins, and ruffles Alfred’s hair.

“I’m no snitch, kaulquappe, and I always thought what your dads did was moronic. I can’t imagine doing nothing after finding out what you did. Hell, if it were me and Lud I would have done the same. So don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Really?!” Alfred’s heart leaps and so he does too. Right off the couch. “YAHOO! Thanks, Uncle Gil! I-”

The rest is cut off when Gilbert stuffs a sandwich in his mouth.

“Cool your jets, yanketito. I wasn’t done! Remember I told you about my lil bro’s wedding?”

Alfred nods through a mouthful of frosting.

“Mmhm.”

“Gut. Obviously I’m going down to liberty land to be his best man. Ha! As if he’d dare choose anyone else! I’ll put Honda over my damn knee and spank him with his own bodypillow if he even thinks of muscling in on my territory!”

Alfred has no idea who this Honda is but pities him anyway. He nods as that seems the safest option.

“Mmhm.”

“So! I’ll be going down to NYC. And you’ll be coming with me.”

Gilbert gives him that rust-coloured stare again and Alfred, for one of the few times in his life, knows it would be futile to argue. Uncle Gil is like a force of demented nature.

“Like I said, I won’t snitch but this can’t go on forever. So enjoy your time up here, kid. It just got a curtain call, ja?”

Alfred swallows the sandwich and nods. What else can he do? Gilbert holds all the cards and they both know it.

“…Ja.”

“YEAH! Good choice! Now, call Mattie. Tell him to get his maple-print panties in a bunch because Uncle Gil knows and Uncle Gil wants to talk.”

(Have a small update! I’ve been very busy lately and I will be for a while so I can’t promise when there’ll be more. Just when I can snatch a few minutes. Until then, please enjoy and stay tuned for part 10! (´ε｀ )♡)

[strange-destinations]

....I need you to break down which Game of Rassilon characters would survive Dracula now please.

ah fuck okay, here we go. going by @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula's set of critera at the top of the blog...

Riley!Doctor - Wouldn't take the crucifix because she's already got several spare ones in her pockets, somewhere, maybe, she'll go looking for them later. Of course she's sneaking around and getting nosy. It's what she does. Holds Dracula's attention well enough until he says something really blatantly evil, and then she promptly snaps and ruins everything and turns the whole deal into a survival horror game. Finds a rusting sword somewhere and beats the three vampire gfs back with it. Uses her scarf to rappel her way down the side of the castle, and uses a combination of Venusian Akido and clever sonic screwdriver technobabble to disrupt the vampiric influence on the wolves. She's the Doctor. She'll be fine.

Millie - the real-life Amelia Earhart was somewhat religious, so I can easily see her taking the crucifix if offered. Talking and climbing aren't what's going to save her here. Her greatest strength is piloting and repurposing things. In the absense of a plane or spaceship, she might very well hijack the carriage Dracula drove in on. 50/50 chance of her managing to pull this off.

Travis Killian - Travis's greatest strength lies in his ability to fuck with technology, and unfortunately castle Dracula is not wi-fi enabled. He's genre-savvy enough and probably knows enough vampire lore to get a good grasp on what's going on, but that's not going to save him. I don't doubt his ability to survive a few terrifying conversations with the Count, but I do doubt his ability to climb down a ladder, let alone a massive castle wall. Probably going to die without assistance, let's hope he asks for help.

Roman - Roman would try to shoot Dracula several times and miss, every time; but that only happens at the climax of this little disaster. Vampires and Time Lords are natural enemies, so he'd have a pretty good idea what's going on from the start. Being left in a creepy old building owned by a malicious entity that wants him to suffer and lose his mind is kind of already Roman's thing, so he gets bonus points for that. Roman can absolutely talk his way around Dracula and in fact I'd pay actual money to see those conversations. When things inevitably go to shit and he has to run like hell, the aforementioned bad Marksman score kicks in. He fails to even so much as wound Dracula, and probably isn't remotely equipped to climb down the castle walls. The wolves probably get him. Sorry, Roman. He dies, but don't worry, it's all part of the plan.

Carrie Vu - after ascertaining that someone really weird is going on in the town, would turn up at Castle Dracula's front doors and offer him girl scout cookies that she doesn't own in order to sneak in and snoop around. Dracula would not be fooled but would let her in anyway. Every conversation between Carrie and Dracula is the equivalent of getting beat around the head with a rubber chicken. There's no way to predict how any of this will go. Dracula is too bemused and off-balance to contemplate killing her at first. Gets very very offended when he calls her iPhone a foul bauble of man's vanity. Would manage to get at least one good whack in with her baseball bat. The vampire GFs do eventually get her and things look hopeless, but the Corsair swings in at the last moment to rescue her, and the resulting scene is like something off the front cover of a horny romance novel.

Dan!Doctor - Would take the crucifix, insist on paying or giving something back, comedic 5-minute sequence of him pulling random currency and bizarre items out of his pockets. Solemnly promises to do something about the babies getting stolen and eaten, and this is his entire life goal for the next few weeks. Probably manages Dracula marginally better than Riley!Doctor, can keep up and hold a conversation while carefully plotting his exit route. Locates every coffin and regretfully destroys them. Very thoroughly makes sure that no part of Dracula's cunning real estate plan will ever come to pass. Escapes Castle Dracula by jumping out a window because climbing is too slow. He's good at falling off things, he'll be fine probably.

Lita Fane - Lita's wary enough that I have serious doubts she'd even go up to the castle in the first place unless coerced or forced into it. She feels much more like the person to stay down in the town and try to help the people living there. Assuming she has to go to the castle anyway - I don't know if the crucifix would be even recognizable to her as an important item, so she'd probably just be really confused about it, might take it just to be polite. Engineering skills aren't really helpful to her here. I don't think she'd be great at talking to the Count, either. Dracula sets off every red flag possible for her - Lita's having a bad time. It doesn't feel like she'd be an especially great climber, either. Lita's a survivor, but probably not in this case. Vampires were never really the thing she learned how to survive.

Stanley Campbell - Oh, god. Sorry, but there's just no way Stanley would notice that Dracula is even remotely a vampire until it's way WAY too late. 50/50 on him taking the crucifix but I'm thinking maaaybe not. He'd probably end up wandering. Dracula would lose interest in his tangents very very fast. He ain't climbing his way out, with OR without crocs. One way or another, he's not moseying his way out of this one.

bonus: Joseph!Doctor - a stick is just a stake that hasn't been sharpened yet. Dracula's going down.

[shitty-mechs-headcannons]

(this.... this is a longer thing than I meant it to be so apologies for that in advance.)

so I have this headcanon that is basically canon in my brain that the Toy Soldier can sort of teleport wherever as long as it's reasonable (not to far away, is actually a place to exist, etc) which plays into a lot of other stuff in my brain.

(Also don't ask Toy how it teleports it will "glitch" bc it doesn't know how to explain it, it just can so it will probably shoot you or break something. "I Can't Take Anyone With Me Jonny So I Kindly Ask You To Stop Or I May Have To Shoot You For The Umpteenth Time-")

ANYWAY to the main headcanon event (that I don't know will fit well into canon and mostly don't care) but I saw a post saying that weird notes in Justice and Once And Future King sound like morse code repeating DB for Drumbot Brian, like a sort of SOS beacon. Obviously is this were the case, the crew of the Aurora likely didn't receive in time to reach Brian, or they didn't receive it at all.

So picture the image my brain has painted: TS doing whatever it is Toy does away from the Aurora and coincidentally (cosmic-narratively) within range of the Station, when the SOS is sent out. Toy receives it, and resolves to pop up near Brian. It finds that there is no immediate danger it can detect aside from the Station's fall, to which it cannot help.

"You don't have to stick around, you know," Brian says, voice hoarse (considering the tears of oil and all-consuming rust, it's no wonder why). Brian didn't expect the crew to find his call in time anyway, it was hope beyond hope, and besides, he's immortal- they'll find him eventually. Hopefully.

"Well," The Toy Soldier starts, looking strangely contemplative, considering it's fashion. "I Suppose I Could Fetch The Crew, But I'm Certain They Have Heard Your Call Already, So No Need." No need unless Brian orders, of course, though he won't. Even if he wanted to, he doesn't have the strength or willpower at this point.

"But why stay?"

It's quiet for a moment, aside from the sizzle of ever-growing heat and distant moans of those laid half-dead from battle.

"Considering Your Past, One Would Think You Dislike Loneliness. Though My Fashion Leaves None For Feelings, I Could Say I Should Hate To Leave You Lost and Lonely Ever Again."

Despite himself, Brian felt a small bittersweet smile form on his lips. He can't help but mourn the Station and it's occupants, and he seriously doubts immortal company is much in the way of the center of the sun, but... "Thanks, Toy."

And that was that for quite a while yet.

(SO SORRY THIS GOT OUT OF HAND LMAO IT'S SO LONG. I have the writers curse where a one paragraph summary turns into, whatever stuff like this is. Sincere apologies to whoever tried to read this but hope it's not bad?)

waaah i love it

-mod fen

[capricioussun]

Took a drawing break lol

Anyway can u tell me about Horrortale and Horrrorswap and their personalities?

What a coincidence I am taking a break from drawing! Definitely a break and not procrastinating 👍

The horror boys!! Starting with the classic duo, Dove and Patch, depending on where in the timeline, their relationship is...a little rough. Almost all of my horrors started out as their classic counterparts before diverging, following similar origins as the original horrortale.

I'll focus mainly on "post recovery" though since, while still underground, both brothers are...not doing so hot! That being said, after some time to recover and get their bearings, things are a bit tense between them. Regardless of what transpired underground, they still care about each other, but both cope with what happened in significantly different ways that also clash sometimes.

Dove is...pretty similar to Rus, in a lot of ways. He’s trying to move into the future with his best foot forward, but it's difficult at times. Both literally and figuratively. He wound up with a lot of chronic health problems from the mutations that prevent him from pursuing life in the ways he used to be able to.

He doesn't let that stop him, at least more than he can help, but it does serve as a constant reminder of what he’s lived through, which can be just as mentally taxing some days.

Patch on the other hand. Well, he's still Sans, but...he doesn't trust so easy anymore. Which is saying something considering how "easily" he trusted before. Mostly, his priorities are him and his brother and not much else. It took a while (and medication) for him to really believe they were finally safe again, and it'll take much longer still to trust things wont just regress again.

He’s very rough around the edges, doesn't joke or even speak all that much anymore. He deals with his own chronic conditions, but physically, they're not usually as troublesome as Dove's. He'll ease up more with time, and he’s not entirely closed off to trusting others if they can really prove themselves to him, but that's mostly monsters alone. He'll probably never fully trust a human again.

As for the hs brothers, tbth, I have about three different versions of their origins (post diverging from a normal us) and I haven't really been able to settle one which I actually prefer for canon. Which means! Their characterizations are subject to change, but probably not *too much, since I'm pretty happy with how they've turned out thus far!

Focusing again on "post recovery" Coal and Rust...certainly have their own struggles with each other, too. They're haven't totally broken apart, and Rust has a weird like...avoidance yet protective thing going on with Coal. He’d rather not spend a lot of "casual" time around him, but he’s also very protective of him around others, so he winds up lingering nearby if new people are involved.

Coal has his own problems with his brother, especially with the fact he won't take advantage of the fact they're finally safer to heal. Frankly Rust would probably never make any effort to recover himself, he'd have to be "inspired" into it by something, but that something isn't ever gunna be Coal, and so that can be a cause of friction between them, too.

Independently, Coal is friendly. He probably comes across pretty similarly to a cross between Blue and Berry, as far as attitude and energy level, but he’s also entirely blind, which of course brings its own challenges with it.

Unfortunately a lot of his progress is due more to repression than actual healing. But! He’s...working on it. He'd be incredibly excited to explore the surface world, but don't let his presentation fool you. He’s about as genuinely trusting as Patch.

Rust...has a lot of hang ups. A lot. His belief that anyone can do better had certainly been put to its paces, and...well, he hasn't totally become bitter and resentful. But he'd rather just kinda exist than live.

Between the physical chronic problems, and the weight of all the mental ones, it makes every step into a new life very, very difficult, which is why he’s so stuck in his ways. With time, and with something somehow managing to push him to it, he'd do better. He'd never be like his old self, but he'd level out a lot and at least be able to enjoy the peace.

[cryptoradfemme]

TW: Opinion LMAO

Very hot take: Lesbian politicism is stupid. You can be a radical feminist and still date a man. Some people are just so chronically online they'll tell you that you can't. Yes, men abuse, yes, men rape, kill, pillage, etcetera. You don't think women who are bisexual or straight acknowledge that? Some people choose to be a radical feminist and still be romantical in the same way that some radical feminists who are lesbian do. It's weird how some of you have made it so that only lesbians can date under radical feminism. If they find out the hard way their boyfriend has sick thoughts, then they find out the hard way like god intended. Men can be secretly predatory, that's true, but living your life in fear and regretting it later is more stupid. Stop trying to control who women date, now you just sound like the enemy. If they have sex with a man, if they choose to have a child, then holy shit.. I mean wow. She made that choice. You know women weren't able to do that before, yeah?? That's a pretty big step. She, the woman, made the choice to sleep with a guy and have a child with him on her terms. And he didn't force himself onto her? Progress. Okay? Progress people. Stop fear mongering, you're resetting progress. Why not post about the good parts, just like how climate change blogs will post the shit things that are happening in the world but sprinkle in some of the good things. Maybe stuff like "Dude gets arrested for being a rank pos"? "Pedophile ring gets exposed everyone celebrates"? "Women get a win for once in court cases"? Post about news from around the world. If you just post about the terrible things happening you'll fall down a mental pipe of shit. Trust me, its terrible. You'll be scared to go outside, scared to do anything. Scared to interact with even normal everyday dudes. The point is, yes, shits happening. That is a fact that nobody can deny. Men can be terrible and they're being taught to this day to still be terrible. But you know what? That doesn't mean you can't have some hope. When you lose hope, you start sounding crazy. You sound like me back in 2020 when i seriously thought that everyone was out to get me. I became a shut in, i didn't go out, i didn't make friends, i didn't do anything. I was so afraid every friend i met would be some scary son of a gun because a lot of them kept turning on me. You can't do that. You can't be afraid of every guy you meet. You will go crazy and it's unhealthy to promote this type of shit to younger girls especially around my age. I'm so fucking lucky i haven't lost my mind to this yet from listening to some of you chat about this stuff like it's completely normal. If you can't have optimism and keep trying and keep hoping, you will lose at life. I didn't get out of my slump by farting around and keeping up that mindset.

In the end, let women have identities without you needing to chime in and shit on them the same way guys shat on you for being a teen girl once. If a girls bisexual, straight, lesbian, let it happen. Like that's even your business anyways dude. Stop dictating who dates who. Woman up maybe? I don't know. It's not like every single guy out there is shit for brains. Yeah, it's a majority in the same way you wouldn't know if that snake in your backyard is poisonous or not, but some of those snakes aren't poisonous. The point is to be vigilant, to speak out about womens issues, to help younger women and older women navigate through a life that strips them of their choice and rights, but to also not lose yourself in it. Take up hobbies, actually talk to some guys for once too. You're an extremist, not a radical. That's a totally different branch at that point. So yes. Let women date men if its what they want. You can warn them about the dangers and still let people do it. It's like saying "This roller coaster might brake down because it's old and rust, do you want to ride it anyway?" Usually the answer is yes especially if its your favorite roller coaster.

Liberal feminism - Bunch of spiritualist "boss girl" written in pink glitter font with a bit of "not all men" mixed in there with tra acceptance. They are pro sex work and pro porn. They are scratching only the tip of the iceberg and this is where most people start out.

Radical feminism - Just right, it's a perfect balance. Teaching women to be vigilant, acknowledging that you can't make "acceptances" for certain groups who threaten womens liberty and rights. Anti trans, anti gender conforming. Open to criticism, and hasn't completely lost their minds. The 4b movement is welcomed, It's anti sex work, Anti porn, And its balanced between leftism and rightism. Relies on understanding how capitalism affects women day to day and reflects on issues even far across the globe. It isn't American centered. You realize the importance of working with men but also against them to maintain some sense of harmony.

Extremist feminism - Anti men completely. You hate them so much you would go lengths just to avoid them. You believe they'll never change, not even in the future. You also hate tras but you want to be violent against them, not help them. You don't get outside much, your fear mongering has completely taken over your brain to the point you have no male friends because you think males are out to get you at every single waking second. You think they're under you and you don't dream of a world of equality, you dream of revenge. You're probably accidentally racist at some points in your life.

[averagedualies]

…Oh? A pelipper just dropped off a letter. Addressed from uhhhhhh-

“From: Vincent (The really hot famous one)”

Oh! I remember this guy! He’s the one that’s like- the taller one with ungodly amounts of makeup. Yeah I know who this is. Lemme attach what he wrote (putting it below a read more, since its kinda long)

“This weird bird just came crashing through my window with a note asking if I wanted to send a letter back so.. here you go.

Life has been.. interesting. Had to uh, ‘deal with’ Nine again. But he’s.. not gonna be a problem anymore! (still can’t believe he got brought back.)

I’ve got good news though. Two things actually

One: IM FUCKING MARRIED BITCHESSSSS!!! It doesn’t even feel real if I’m being honest. But, cod, she’s so beautiful. I seriously don’t know how he fell in love with me of all people. I’ll attach the wedding photos to this letter.

Two: We did it. We actually fucking did it. We have an honest-to-cod cure for sanitization… kinda. As far as we’re aware, there’s no way to fully cure sanitization. What you can do though, is restore free-will to fully sanitized people… with a bit of luck. Let me try to explain.

First off, her name is Coral. She was fully sanitized relatively recently, during the commander’s final stand. Because of how recent it was we were able to pretty easily find who she was before (with some help from Octavio). This was important because to reverse it at all, we need genetically similar healthy cells to act as a kinda catalyst. We got insanely lucky with Coral as she had a living twin who agreed to help, and we managed to recover her.

Even if you meet all these conditions though, you still can’t fully reverse it. Even with partial sanitization your body kinda grows a reliance on the stuff, making it near impossible to remove without… yk. There’s potential to reduce some scarring, but that’s about all that can be done for someone like me.

Anyways, she’s recovering now. She’s got her free will back (which honestly, that’s the most important part). We’re working with the C.Q.s to try and recover as much data about each subject as possible. They’ve been shockingly helpful, all things considered.

But I’ll stop talking now though and let you all see the photos. They're pretty cool :]”

[Image attachments: The first photo is of Byte, wearing a gorgeous wedding dress. It’s a sleek white dress that fades to purple near the bottom. The darker part is embroidered with silver constellations.

The second photo is of Vincent, wearing an incredibly sharp suit. It’s accented with shades of deep rust and gold.

The third photo has them together, Vincent… taller than Byte? He’s leaning over her shoulder with a smug grin

…it’s painfully obvious he’s standing on a box or two.]

Think that’s everything? Oh- wait nope, one more

[Image attachment: It’s an octoling. Her skin is typical of a sanitized octoling, but she has soft teal eyes and blue tentacles that fade to a vibrant pink near the end. She’s.. smiling. It’s small, but genuine.]

…I don't really have a lot to say on that one. Uh- wow. Just wow.

Also holy carp a version of me got married-

[nomoreusername]

Lily of The Valley (Part 8)

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:The longer the adventure goes on, the more complex your feelings towards Aris get.

As it was meant to be, I was up before him. At some point during the night we had fallen asleep under the stars, his arm around me as I rested my head on his chest.

Slowly sitting up, I stretched as I laid back and looked at the morning sky. Clouds were starting to form, hiding the morning rays from us. Now we got nothing but colors, light pinks and oranges and blues scattered throughout. Moving again, I looked over at him flat on his back, his eyes still shut as his chest rose and fell at an even pace. With his lips slightly parted and his hair in his face, all I could think about was if he was actually okay. There has been a lot moving, and he wasn't one to just say he needed a break.

Glancing at his ankle, I slowly reached for his pant leg. Pulling it up just a little, I sighed in relief when he was all clear.

“How long is it gonna take for you to not worry about me?”He mumbled. Glancing over, I saw his eyes still closed as he wore a lazy smile.

“How long until you quit dragging me with you?”

“Never.”

“There's your answer then,”I shrugged, patting his shoulder before laying beside him again. With my arms behind my head, I got back to admiring the sunrise. It was too early to be hot but too late to be cold. It was a perfect middle ground, this small breeze in the air and sounds of small animals that are still here.

“Beautiful,”He whispered.

“Yeah. It really is,”I agreed, sneaking a glance at him just to see him doing the same. Returning his morning grin, I looked at him for a little while with him still looking back.

“You wanna head inside? See what it has?”He suggested.

“See what the abandoned train has? That thing?”

“Come on. It could have something cool.”

“Like rust? Like that?”I teased.

“Just come down,”He repeated, sitting up and finding the ladder. Rolling my eyes, I waited to follow him anyway. No matter how much of an idiot he is, that is still my best friend. Somehow.

So as he made it to the ground I did the same. Thankfully, the metal wasn't hot yet. Then again it would be weird if it was. The sun had barely started rising.

“And down you go,”He smiled, taking my hand as I stood beside him. With the same grin, he let go and climbed up the three steps. Going in after him, I ducked my head to properly get through for a moment. Then, I stretched my arms for a moment, letting out a yawn.

“Was getting up before me worth it?”

“Shut up.”

“Your favorite phrase against me. I’d be worried if you didn't say it at least once a day.”

“Aris, I will push you off of this train,”I threatened.

“Not if I push you off first.”

“Well, now that I know I just won't let you,”I shrugged.

“You think you could stop me?”

“Oh, I know I could,”I promised.

“You absolutely sure about that?”He repeated.

“Yes. Yes I am. Now let's go,”I demanded.

“Go where?”

“Wherever you wanted to go.”

“Is anywhere with you an answer?”

“No. It’s not,”I said, rolling my eyes.

“Careful. They’ll get stuck like that.”

“Just like how I’m stuck with you? Like that?”

“You're always acting like you don't love me,”He complained.

“And I don't. In fact, I don't love you so much I'll just walk off this-”

“Not happening,”He insisted, taking my hand and spinning me around. Holding back a grin, I shut my eyes as he did once, then twice. With the way his hands seemed so warm despite the freezing cold we just had and the certainty he seemed to have, I knew he was the only one who would ever be allowed to do this.

Stopping on the next one, he pulled me into him. With his arm across me and on my shoulder, but still holding my hand, and his head resting on my shoulder, he seemed completely calm.

“Aren’t we supposed to be exploring the train?”I reminded him.

“Yep. Off we go,”He announced, spinning me back around one last time but keeping his hand in mine. Pretending not to notice the slight limp that would forever be in his step, I let him drag me past the random compartment, opening a door and pulling me through another. With my bag over my shoulder, I laughed a little as he glanced back at me. With the most genuine smile I have seen in my entire life, he pulled me closer. Stumbling over my feet, I nearly fell to the floor, almost dragging me with him. Grabbing me by my shoulders, he slightly dipped me down.

“Hi,”He grinned as he was just inches away from my face.

“Hey.”

“Are you having fun yet?”

“With you? Never,”I drew out.

“Liar,”He accused.

“Me? Never,”I denied, rolling my eyes as I unconsciously tightened my grip around his neck. Ignoring it, he kept that insanely wide smile.

“Are you going to let me go now?”I asked, reminding him that he was dramatically keeping me in his hold.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have no reason to still be pulling a random dance move on me?”

“Since when do I need a reason?”

“Aris, let me go,”I demanded.

“Okay, but first.”

“Aris, no,”I said slowly as I saw that glint in his eye. Ignoring my warning tone he picked me up and held close to him. Rolling my eyes at his antics, I crossed my arms over my chest before giving him a deadpan stare.

“Isn't this fun? We're having fun,”He insisted.

“Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

“Well, I always have fun with my girl-”

“Stop calling me that-”

“And my girl always has fun with me. Right?”

“I’m not your girl,”I scoffed.

“Sure you are,”He shrugged, stealing my bag and holding it in his hand while still hanging on to me. Letting out another sigh of annoyance, I rolled my eyes. I tend to do that when I’m with him.

“Do you wanna know the real reason I was your partner?”

“Because we're soulmates. Obviously,”He said simply, stepping through the other compartment with me still in his arms. Pulling myself up a little, I slightly adjusted my position and gave up on him letting me down. I mean it's just Aris. He wasn't going to hurt me anytime soon.

“No. Because you’d annoy the other girls with your flirting.”

“Nah. You are the only girl I would ever flirt with,”He said, stopping for a moment. Looking where he was, I saw him observing the clouds that were starting to reveal the sun. Looking at it shine, I held on a little tighter without even realizing, my head rested on his shoulder. Standing there, he stayed silent with me as we watched the sky, something we never thought we’d get to see again.

“I’m really glad we're doing this,”I whispered, not wanting to speak too loud for fear of breaking our world.

“Yeah. Me too,”He whispered back.

After another minute of us mindlessly admiring the sunrise we got to walking again. By that, I mean he was still holding me in his arms with my still keeping my cheek on his shoulder.

“It's surprisingly really pretty.”

“Yeah. It is,”He agreed, glancing down at me. “You know what's always pretty though?”

“Seriously?”I asked, already knowing what he was going to say.

“You of course.”

“Yep. There it is. It's also why weren't allowed with other girls. You would have irritated them until they tried to kill you. You know? Just girly things.”

“I already said I wouldn't flirt with anyone else. I’m loyal to you and you alone.”

“Okay, Aris. If you say so.”

“Well, I do, and I’m right.”

“Yes. Because apparently you're always right,”I played along, figuring I may as well feed his already oversized ego. Besides, that just means he makes more remarks which is more entertainment. That and I have always needed him. I could not have survived with just the Double T’s. I would have been an outcast. I was already an outcast before everything went wrong too. He was all I had, and I was all he had. We just make sense.

× ~ × ~ × ~ ×

He had let me go a few hours ago. By now, the sun was directly in the sky. Not wanting to get burnt but also wanting to take some of our top layers off, we stayed inside the train.

Now in brand new t-shirts and jean shorts, we ate lunch. Our guess was that this train used to carry emergency supplies because we found a ton of cans, metal water bottles that were just a little warm, a few concealable weapons, and fresh clothes. We had literally hit the jackpot.

Eating my mystery meat that actually wasn't too bad, I absentmindedly kept my head on his shoulder. Playing some adventure sounding song called Run Boy Run, he quietly hummed as he ate.

“It's obnoxiously catchy,”I said as I swallowed my last bite.

“It’ll grow on you.”

“Your playlist is weird.”

“What's wrong with my playlist?”

“It doesn't actually have a theme. There's been so many different sounding songs, I never know if the next song is supposed to make me look at you and fall in love or cry.”

“That's the fun of it,”He shrugged, looking over at me. “But hopefully the first one,”He added, brushing some of my hair out of my eyes.

“At this point, I think you're being serious when you say those things.”

“Who said I wasn't?”He asked with a completely blank expression. Turning away from his gaze, I wiped my palms on my shorts as I took a breath. “You okay?”

“I’m as good as they get,”I said simply.

“Yeah. You always say that, don't you?”

“It's always true. At least compared to you.”

“What? You're saying I’m a mess?”

“Maybe. On the bright side though, since I’m always looking after you, that would make you my mess,”I pointed out, meeting his eyes that had never once left me.

“Yeah. That is a bright side, isn't it?”He agreed before letting out a yawn.

“You tired, Aris?”

“A little,”He admitted, stretching.

“You wanna take a nap?”I suggested.

“Will you sleep with me?”

“Yeah,”I lied, knowing he would switch to denying any kind of sleepiness if I said otherwise.

Nodding, he leaned closer. Running my hands down his back, I let him lay his head on my lap. Curling up on his side, he slowly shut his eyes.

Rubbing circles on his shoulder, I smiled as I watched him doze off. Mumbling something incoherent, he laid on his back, stretching his legs out but keeping his head on me. Holding back a smile, I kept tracing shapes on him.

“I really do mean it. The things I say,”He mumbled through another yawn.

“Mean what?”I asked quickly.

When I got no response, I knew I would never get an answer. He was out like a light, not going to have any recollection of his words when he opened his eyes. I was wide awake, almost holding my breath as I tried to put together the pieces of his words.

Leaning against the window, I stared at the roof as one of those songs that were supposed to make me fall in love when I look at him came on.

And that's exactly why I made sure not to do that. I would just make sure to stare at the ceiling every time one of these plays.

All Parts

That's so much easier than trying to work out my emotions.

Next Chapter

[vocaliveparty]

Streaming Heart - Design, Effects, and Extra Notes.

Design

Modeled and Designed by Maydayfireball. Naturally, he's based off of the project diva module. And I'm only JUST realizing I forgot to bandage up his hand. Anyway, I wanted to go past just the bandages that implicate a physical flesh wound, and go more lean into a digital / mechanical damage look as well. The heart on his head glitching, the wire wrapped around his arm, and the frayed USB tail were part of that. Originally, his tail was suppose to spark, but I couldn't figure out a way to do it without it being weird or too distracting.

Effects

There's a lot to go into, so I'm going to try to pick out things I really liked. One being - Did you notice the heart in the background slowly grows as it's caged up?

I wanted it to feel like it was just getting bigger and bigger, until it finally explodes into pixels at the end.

And here's what the whole stage looks like zoomed out, for the hell of it LSDKFJSDLF

THIS.. is actually the same mirror I used in Strangers. But now it's cracked and broken, laying on it's side. The street sign is also a reference to the original Strangers MV. I'll go more into the "why" of this in the Extra notes section.

Similarly, this is the same frame from Cat Rubbing, but covered in the same rust effect.

Extra Notes

So, my intention with this one had less to do with the lyrics and actual meaning of the song, and more to do with it's overall vibes. This is the third to last song, and I wanted it to feel angry. Like a Piko who's tired of being ignored and left at the bottom of the shelf. I referenced Strangers (from plp1) and Cat rubbing (the second song in the set) as a tongue and cheek way of saying "Hey, remember this? Wouldn't you like to go back to that? You can't."

Obviously, you CAN go back. Those songs, covers, and videos all still exist. But we're at a point of Piko's life where he's steadily becoming less relevant. He's fighting to keep your attention. It's almost like he's viewing that as a broken relationship, and he's angry it's gotten to this point. I feel like I'm rambling.

Anyway, I chose strangers to reference from plp 1 specifically because Roseus did this cover and that one. Also, This piko design was made to intentionally look like Strangers Piko. The jacket and half skirt are nods to him.

(Oh, you can really see how my style has improved between these last two years, huh.. that's kinda weird feeling..)