What The Heck Is Wrong With Me

For that Atlas person who wanted a fanfic. I didn’t know what fanfic you wanted so I’m just gonna go with one of my favourites, Truck-Kun x Toyota-San. Sorry it’s not that long. Also, please don’t bash me.



Toyota-san was perfect in every way, from her gleaming headlights to her fresh coat of red paint that always looked new, no matter what weather.

The only problem was that I only got to see her when our owner came by in her and left on me. It was great, spending those minutes—and if lucky, hours with her. I loved the way she always revved up when I cracked a good one. But the problem was that I wasn’t sated anymore with these fleeting moments anymore.

I wanted more. My heart craved the thought of being close to her, next to her, with her. I wanted it desperately.

Luckily, today my owner was taking another truck, so I had the whole day with her to myself. You could probably say I was in heaven, but I was happier than even that.

She rolled up, her ensemble being of new tires she had gotten recently that she looked so unbelievably good in.

“Ah, Truck-Kun, how are you this sunny morning?” She pulled herself into park beside me, our owner hopping out to leave us be.

“Great, though a friend of mine gets horrible sunburn from his black paint. He says it’s all worth it in the winter,” I laughed, easing into myself as a talked to her.

“Really? I’ve never tried the whole white and black paint thing, but maybe when I get traded off or redone I’ll try it out. I’ve always wondered how it felt anyway, y’know?”

“I think you would look stunning in any colour,” I blurted out, my windshield fogging up just a tiny bit.”

Her headlights blinked a bit in appreciation. “Thank you, Truck-Kun. I think you’re the only one who would say that to me.”

From there on, we talked for hours on end. I soaked up every word she said, letting myself enjoy the moment before I braved myself and confessed.

“Um, Toyota-San, I have . . . I have something I want to tell you.” My gears shifted nervously back and forth.

“Oh, really?” In that moment, she looked so beautiful. Her red the soft shade of a cherry on a hot summer’s day and her windshield cleaned so neatly, you’d wonder if the glass was even there. But it was her headlights that called my name. Her lovely, pulchritudinous headlights the hue of electric yellow and clean white. The image was too perfect.

“I like you, Toyota-San.”

We stood in silence, the only echo being of the keys that jangled from oncoming truck drivers that were done for the day. I waited, my anticipation pushing my engine to malfunction and oil to leak a bit.

Finally, she said, “I like you too.”

That was the happiest day in my life.