#the bull nose ring of course

[benegesseritofficial]

Shout out to the person wandering the oddities fair dressed as a butch minotaur. Like, picture a goth butch going all out with the dapper goth butchness. But also a bull head fully covering their head, and some furry calf warmers. And they were pulling it off??

[ruruumin]

just my luck! she's his sister!

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x shidou's sister! fighter! reader.

⤷ going to an illegal boxing ring was not something on his to-do list, but meeting you was something else entirely (violence/blood + boxing ring)

rin doesn’t know why he is here. standing alongside a starved crowd, most of which were men, he’s watching the scene in front of him unfold in a messy, blood-spilled way. at the center of the ring, you were dancing along a very thin string of consciousness. your nose had been busted at the very start of the match and your knee had endured a multitude of blows. 

he tagged alongside shidou and the rest of blue lock on a whim. thinking it was just a simple show, he had unknowingly purchased a ticket to what might have been an illegal boxing match. now trapped in a show he cannot back out of, he watches intensely. 

the fight between you and another opponent was nothing like he had ever imagined. sure, he’s been in a few rough patches with shidou and a few other members on his team, but it was never to this extent (perhaps he should be thankful ego installed those electric sensors into his suit). this was a clash between fists and whatever bone existed. you reached out to your opponent, holding them by the nape of the neck with both hands as you slammed their forehead against your knee. 

they backed away slowly, swaying back and forth before charging up a right hook. shidou is shouting at the top of his lungs, eyes sparkling as you narrowly dodged their punch. they hurriedly close the distance between the two of you, crashing into you head first as they slam you to the ground. delivering punch after punch you could feel your temples burn like frozen ice to a wound. 

kicking them off, you wipe the blood on the bottom of your chin, gritting your teeth to avoid biting down on your tongue. 

what goes on is beautiful destruction. you're putting everything on the line, planting your feet down firmly as your opponent charges like a bull. squeezing your fists into an iron ball, you punch them square in the stomach before moving onto a left uppercut jab, and another hook to finish them. they collapse to the ground with a referee quick to hover over them. they hold down on their shoulder, blowing a whistle three times before you they raised their hand.

bringing your fist up, you scream at the top of your lungs, successfully winning another match. a young, attractive woman approaches you with glimmering eyes, weighing you up and down before presenting you with a thick wad of cash that you immediately take with hungry hands. you brush aside the two strands of loose hair from your forehead, blowing them off when they start to fall down.

you're surprisingly beautiful despite the bruises on your face. you have him blinking owlishly, looking up at you from the pit with a slight glimmer in his eye.

“(name)!” 

it wasn’t until shidou suddenly jumped over the barrier, taking you into his arms and swinging you around that rin started to suspect something about this match. you’re settled on the top of shidou’s shoulder, grinning madly as you continued to pump up your fist. crowds were cheering your name and you were basking in the glory in an almost euphoric way.

rin couldn’t put his finger on it. from the crinkling in your nose or the shape of your eyes, it’s becoming undeniable how similar you looked to your blond companion. and as if his luck couldn’t get any worse—

“that’s my sister!” shidou raises you higher, showing you off the world as rin stares up at you in a mixture of awe, disgust, and admiration.  your wide smile all but confirms his words.

of course, you had to be shidou’s older sister.

[pocket-deer-boy]

oh of course he's a bull boy with bangs over his eyes and a nose ring and a cowbell choker and he's beefy and chubby. next you'll tell me his cock is huge and his balls swangin

[beanarie]

wip wednesday

i was tagged by @rcmclachlan and @typicalopposite

here's the next bit of baking!tommy

tagging @sanguinarysanguinity

~

Three days before Christmas, Tommy decides to try making polenta. The kid who rings him up at the supermarket has gangly limbs, short, messy hair, and thick glasses with dark frames. When his six pack of beer sets off the computer, Tommy dryly offers to get out his ID and the kid rolls his eyes. "You're good." He putters along for a beat before remembering to add, "Sir."

It causes an ache, and Tommy only knew Chris for a couple of months.

T (7:12 PM): I'm sorry about Eddie. How are you holding up?

E (7:14 PM): Are you at home

T (7:24 PM): Yes

Evan shows up at his door incandescently angry, not a matador but the bull. Tommy imagines smoke coming out of his nose every time he breathes. "You're sorry. About Eddie. Eddie."

"Buck-" Evan's flinch is like a needle under his fingernail. "Evan. Of course I'm sorry about... us. That takes quite a few more words, okay? I- I haven't figured out what order to put them in."

"Try."

"Do you really wanna hear it?"

Evan spreads his arms and looks around. "I'm here, aren't I? I didn't come all this way to discuss Eddie. I have friends to talk to about Eddie."

"Are you sure? You keep saying his name."

Evan outright snarls. "What is wrong with you?"

Tommy does not ask if he wants a list.

[anoddlystoatishhyena]

Just Like Glass

CW: slight body horror (disfigurement/amputation)

(This is also quite a long post, so bear that in mind)

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Notes: THIS IS MY FIRST WRITTEN THING EVER I HAVE NO EXPERIENCE WITH WRITING - This is somewhat based of Land Of The Lustrous/Houseki No Kuni because I have been SO hyperfixated on that, and also inspired by this image that I have found on Pinterest:

If you know who originally made this picture please let me know Ok back to the fanfic-

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It'd been a while since Glass Joe would get to fight against another boxer, having been injured pretty badly in his previous fight against Bald Bull. The Turkish boxer had managed to do quite a number on him, so much so that the Frenchman's personal doctor was worried some damage would be more permanent than the usual brain damage or broken ribs. Luckily, Great Tiger offered to help, to speed up the healing process if it meant Glass Joe could get another turn in the ring faster. How kind of him. Now Glass Joe's in high spirits, not just because he's not in pain from his former injuries. The Administrator has just informed him that his next fight is only tomorrow, and it's against Disco Kid of all boxers. The happy-go-lucky boxer from Brooklyn is the only other fighter with a negative win-to-loss ratio, so Glass Joe was hoping he'd be able to snag another win from this next fight. It won't fix the ninety-nine losses, but he figured he had to start small to work his way up.

"I'm telling you, mon vieux, I'll be able to improve my win to loss ratio eventually!" The Frenchman exclaimed, explaining his plan to Von Kaiser as the two walk down the hall. "I may never make it a positive one, of course, but it'll be better than just one!"

Von Kaiser could visibly see the pep in Glass Joe's step, as he stomps next to him in his usual stiff and tense walk. "...I must say, Mein Freund, I admire your dedication. You've been doing this for... how long now?" "Hmm... around twenty years, if I'm not mistaken." "Really now?" Von Kaiser paused, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he attempted to do the maths in his head. "...I've been here around twenty-two years. I will admit, I'm surprised time has flown by so quickly." "It really is a wonder, non?" The Frenchman remarked, as the two finally make it to the WVBA's lobby. "Perhaps we can reminisce over a lovely coffee and croissant from the local café? My treat, mon amour!" This is met with a stern sigh and weary chuckle from the German boxer, Von Kaiser moving one of his hands out from behind his back to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You always find a way to twist my hand into taking you to that café, don't you?" He scoffs, though his tone is more of a joke than an actual show of annoyance. "...Fine. Let's go."

Luckily, the weather is perfect for a small walk to the cafe - The sun is bright, the clouds adorn the sky in many odd shapes, and there isn't a drop of rain in sight. The two older boxers walk out of the lobby to the WVBA, Von Kaiser reaching for the stairs' railing and holding onto it with one hand tightly. "Remember to actually use the handrails, Joe." He speaks up sternly, glancing back at the Frenchman as he begins to descend the concrete stairs. "I don't want you undoing the work Great Tiger has done to heal you." "Oui, oui, I know..." Came the dejected reply, as Glass Joe reaches for the handrail and begins using it to get down the stairs as well. "...It feels like you tell me to use the handrails every time- wuh-woah!" Of course, Joe being clumsy ol' Joe, he somehow manages to lose his footing, missing a step and grabbing onto the handrail to catch himself. The sharp sound of glass breaking cuts through the air, stunning Von Kaiser into silence for a moment. Glass Joe can see Von Kaiser tense up from the sudden noise, the German boxer's grip on the handrail nearly denting the metal pole as Von Kaiser attempts to calm himself down. Once he recovers enough to begin breathing normally again, he sighs with a disgruntled scoff as he glances back at Glass Joe. "D-Did you somehow manage to break your little compact mirror again?" "...Non, it wouldn't have been that loud.. Maybe Aran broke one of the windows back inside." "But the noise came from here." "...You're right, maybe-" Glass Joe begins to talk, but the second he stops looking around for the source of the noise, and looks down at his foot, the one that missed the step, he goes silent. His foot has somehow shattered into pieces, the translucent, glass-like shards reflecting the sunlight as they lay on the stairs. The impact has reduced Glass Joe's right foot to nothing but a jagged stump, the two men staring down in horror at the gemstone-like shards now scattered across the ground. "M-Mon dieu.." "..Oh mein gott."

[amberjazmyn]

perhaps one day🫶

pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader

summary :  five times the formula 1 grid think max verstappen has proposed to reader + the one time he actually has

warnings :  literally none, it's fluff, it's cheese, it's cute and it's love. except for the occasional switch of point of views from using 'her' to 'you'

a/n : of course i had to do a version for my all time fave dutchman after the charles leclerc one!

one

daniel ricciardo, f1 driver for vcarb and former teammate of max verstappen was certain. absolutely sure, completely convinced that max, your boyfriend, popped the question. he was like, ten million percent sure. although he wasn't equipped with 'evidence' per se, he started to pick up what he thought were tell-tale signs that gave him the impression that max had put a ring on it.

the f1 driver was so sure of himself that he told charles leclerc and the mclaren drivers, lando norris and oscar piastri. telling them both that the proposal must have happened over their summer break. the break that, obviously, was never really a proper break.

"...just look at them you three! i swear to god, max has proposed!" daniel's giddy, watching the way you two were all over each other, speaking dutch to one another

"come on mate. you could be overreacting-"

"-in fairness, look at her left hand, she's clearly covering it. it has to be a ring!" lando inserts loudly, causing worry for the others, thinking you and max could have overheard

"and how would you know, lando?" oscar deadpanned, the other drivers eyes widening as lando chuckled

"isn't it obvious, oscar? her left hand is hidden because she wants to tell us rather than us finding it out beforehand or guessing," lando touches his nose which makes them all giggle

it wasn't until lando's own girlfriend, luisa, overheard the conversation walking past and shut down the rumours.

"jesus christ. you boys are crazy! the reason why she's hiding her left hand is because, if you guys really paid attention, you would know she has always rested her right hand over her left one. she isn't engaged and max hasn't proposed to her. you lot are crazy i swear," luisa chuckled, shaking her head which made daniel, charles and oscar huff in annoyance whereas lando just chuckles

it wasn't until after you and max finished chatting each other up in dutch that you realised that entire time, lando, oscar, daniel, charles and luisa had all been bickering. bickering about what they thought was your proposal that they had completely missed because it was done in secret.

in which, to clarify, did not happen. luisa was right, the 'tell' of you being engaged because you were hiding your left hand was false. you have always hidden your left hand by covering it with your right hand if you leave it resting on a table.

two

it was a wednesday, middle of the week and the abu dhabi grand prix had just finished. it had been a great result for your boyfriend max and red bull. not just a great result but life-changing result. max had won yet another championship, third year running in a year that was so dominant by red bull. yet, only one other driver, carlos sainz from ferrari, overtaking him and winning the singapore grand prix.

with charles leclerc of ferrari and george russel of mercedes in second and third position respectively. now, it was like they all deserved a full reset and rest now that the season was finally over for the year and a champion had once again been crowned. not just the top three on the podium but all the drivers. although max was on top of the word that he had once again taken champion and is normally always a little flustered, this wednesday, he was even more flustered then usual. it felt like he was running around monaco like a headless chicken looking for something in the printer in the apartment complex he lives in.

"hey, max, you okay? what are you looking for?" charles, who lives in the same apartment complex, questioned

"mijn goedheid my goodness...yeah...i'm taking y.n for a weekend trip and i printed off our booking for it but, i can't seem to find it now," he mutters quite sloppish, his english all over the place after muttering in dutch under his breath, continuing to look for it

"ay, that's exciting. where to, any particular reason why?" charles teases as he moves to lean against the wall 

stopping his search for a second, max sighed in agitation, "switzerland cause i know she's always wanted to go back after we spent a day there a little while ago. i booked a little air bnb, i printed the booking info like moments ago and now i can't find it!" he was getting angrier, his accent really coming through and for once, charles didn't want to instigate him 

charles smiles, noticing it was at a completely different printer, this booking info?" he says as he picks it up and hands it to the older driver who breaths a sigh of relief

"thank you, charles! i lov...you are my favourite person in the world right now other than y.n!" max thanks in english, feeling himself calm down which is when, of course, charles instigates him with hints of a marriage proposal

"sooo, with the holiday getaway this weekend, what's it for...you know, anything special other than just because y.n's wanted to return for ages?" charles teased as max turned back around and gave charles what would be classified as a "stank face" 

"ummm, no...no...we're going because y.n's genuinely been wanting to go back to switzerland and i thought we have the time and the money so, we're going for the weekend...why are you asking?" max gave a look of confusion as charles just nodded his head in embarrassment 

charles started backing away when max jogged after him, the booking for the holiday in his hands, "why are you asking, charles? please stop running away!" thankfully, charles hadn't run too far as he laughed slightly, obeying max's desperate plea

"ay, i just thought you guys were going to come back with a special announcement but, don't worry, it's clearly not that and i apologise for jumping to a conclusion that is obviously not happening. have a great holiday you two. make sure you send us some photos after knowing that you won't be texting or calling us at all," charles chuckled as that seemed to satisfy max and he smiled back, nodding 

"will do, charles. the photos will be sent from y.n's phone not mine. have a good weekend yourself, don't do anything i wouldn't do," max smiled, his bag across his shoulder as charles smiled back

"i will, thanks. see you for the awards night!" charles chuckles as max nodded his head before leaving whilst charles didn't

and that was because, hidden away behind the red bull garage wall where charles was leaning against, was lando, oscar and daniel, all waiting to see if charles got the information about the "proposal". 

"and, charles? what did he say? will there be a ring on y.n's finger when they come back?" lando tried, a look of hope in his eyes as max just shook his head, daniel chuckling 

"no, sorry guys. just a holiday to switzerland because y.n wanted to visit again. and, before you ask, yes, i did subtly ask but, no, there will be no ring on her finger when they get back..." charles trailed off as lando groaned in annoyance as the other drivers' eyes grew wide in shock

"...oh come on! i really thought it would be this time!" lando was truly devastated that his best friend wouldn't be getting proposed to as the others, again, giggled 

"sorry buddy but, i think mr red bull is waiting for a specific day if he has even thought about it," daniel shrugged as charles nodded his head and left the red bull garage, leaving oscar and lando with one last thing 

"and if he is, we shouldn't be pushing it or hounding him over it. he'll do it when they are both ready for it!" daniel says whilst walking out of the red bull garage 

lando and oscar share looks of, even though they hated it, they couldn't help but agree with daniel's statement. if it hadn't happened this time and the time before, it's clear that it's not happening just yet. because, one, either max and y.n hadn't talked about it yet or, they simply aren't ready for it since they were still in their early 20s. 

three

by the third time the grid thought max had proposed, more drivers were watching, looking for any new tells, daniel now less interested in the bets and rumours. new tells that could possibly tell them if max had proposed yet or not. and, obviously, because it's the f1 grid, there is at least three different bets going on all at the same time. which makes no sense clearly, but, to them, it makes sense.

this time it was carola martinez, checo's wife, that noticed something that could have been possibly a little off for max. he had a little bag on the couch in the red bull garage. whilst it wasn't out in plain sight, it wasn't being hidden either. so, carola just decided to go for it and straight up ask him what it was.

"hey max, what's the in the bag?" carola questioned, a little giddy glint in her eye

max smiled, making eye contact with carola, "oh, um, *shy chuckle* it's just an anniversary gift..." he trailed off nervously, hoping she wasn't close by

carola felt her shoulders deflate. she knew she shouldn't have felt a little sad that it wasn't likely an engagement ring. but, she still couldn't believe that it had so quickly got to their anniversary.

"what is it? some jewellery? how many years is it now, max?" carola no longer cared about the bet or possibility of an engagement ring and wedding

she just cared that max and y.n were still so head over heels in loe with each other. even though she knew they'd never fall out of love with one another, especially how long they'd been dating.

"oh, just a matching necklace and earrings set. and we've been dating for four years now from memory. i remember overhearing from someone, it was either nando or seb that you never gift a partner a ring unless it's a replacement of an old and broken on or you plan to marry them. so, i decided to get her a matching emerald necklace and earrings set because y.n's already got so many rings, not just of her own but also ones that my mum has gifted her," max smiled shyly as carola's face lit up

"aw, that's so sweet. and happy four years, max. four years is truly an amazing feat, you and y.n should be so proud of that. and, good on you for deciding to not get a ring as i know so many people at the four year mark who would have gotten a ring and it turn out that they weren't ready to be married. you're really a smart man, max. i'm sure y.n will love the present," carola smiled, ruffling his hair in pride for the young racer as max chuckled, fixing his hair as carola walked away

curious, of course, the other racers (excluding daniel) gave carola the look. and, carola, with a sense of pride, shook her head no. again, the drivers were saddened but, when carola explained, they felt a sense of pride wash over all of them. the same pride that washed over carola that max knew not to gift y.n a ring if it either wasn't a promise ring, engagement ring or a replacement ring for a broken or old one.

however, it was at this point, the third time that the grid thought that max was going to propose that he actually started to plan it. obviously, it doesn't take long before rumours start to travel throughout the grid. so, it wasn't long before max and even y.n began to hear of the rumours of the two young adults getting engaged. and, that was when the couple started to talk about it. because, like thought of as one of the reasons why it hadn't happened yet, max and y.n just hadn't spoken about it. not because they didn't want to marry each other, they just hadn't spoken about it in proper detail. until now when they did start a conversation on it after a day of media interviews in the paddock on their four year anniversary and they were each gifted four gifts each. and now, with the knowledge of his girlfriend's ring-size, he decided to ring up daniel. because, like most people, max would not have guessed that daniel was in on all the rumours and bets so, he asked him for advice.

let's just say that it was a struggle for the daniel ricciardo to keep a straight face when max asked him if at some point during a week off from racing that he could help him in finding an engagement ring for y.n. yet, daniel managed to keep his cool and, obviously, didn't tell the rest of the grid who were in on the rumours and bets about it. because, honestly, it got kind of boring to daniel about betting when his best friend was going to propose to his girlfriend and also because he didn't want to break max's trust. and three, whilst he did, as mentioned earlier, participate in the earlier grid rumours and bets, he would never rat out to the betters if he was on the other side.

four

it's a quiet and slow day for everyone when out of nowhere, like, complete nowhere. everyone, except for max and y.n, rush into the ferrari garage. worrying that something bad had happened like someone had been killed or arrested, it was confusing when they all just saw charles basically hyperventilating.

"...are you alright charles?" carlos questions with worry, wondering why his teammate was literally hyperventilating if no one had died or been arrested

"i...i think it's the day!" he struggles to say as the grid and wags all look at each other in confusion

"what? you think it's the day? what day? it's a monday, charles, what could be so exciting about a monday team meeting?" rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, questioned as charles bursted with another round of excitement which spooked everyone

"but that's just it! i think it's happened! i really think max and y.n are engaged!" charles screeches with excitement as rebecca shakes her head, the rest of the grid smiling

"and why do you think that, cabron?" carlos speaks up as charles squeals yet again

but, he doesn't say anything and daniel's eyes widened, "what did you do, charles? what did you hack into?" he was worried that charles had somehow found out about the conversation he had with max about him helping max out with finding an engagement ring

"the hotel that they're staying in for the belated four-year-anniversary..." charles backs up, trailing off of his sentence as no one notices the breath of relief from daniel

"...wait, so you think he's gonna propose to her at a hotel, charles?" carlos questions in confusion

however, that was when y.n walked in and let's just say she was beyond confused.

"umm, who is going to propose to me where?" she blurted out as everyone's eyes widened

and no one spoke up. that was until oscar did and let's just say, he truly saved the day here, "oh, no one y.n. we're just talking about the time i jokingly proposed to lily with a gummy lolly ring in a hotel a couple of months ago..." he trailed off and everyone just hoped y.n believed it

and...she did. she didn't even question it and she should have cause she basically knew everything about her boyfriend's teammates, oscar especially. so, it confused the rest of the grid and wags when she didn't question it.

"...oh, okay, cool. sorry, my bad. well, umm, if anyone's interested, max has bought all of us some coffee and smoothies from my cafe so, we'll be waiting for you guys in the red bull garage with them when you are ready!" y.n smiled as she left the ferrari garage to max who waited in the red bull garage

as soon as everyone knew y.n was out of sight and out of hearing range, they all let out the heavy breaths that they hadn't realised they'd been holding onto.

"holy...lord jesus christ, how on earth did she believe that lie, oscar?!" charles burst out as giggles followed as did head shakes of shock and wide eyes

"uhh, i truly have no idea but, good save for sure!" oscar chuckled as everyone shortly followed after him as he left for his morning smoothie that was waiting for him in the red bull garage

the smoothie that for once, he didn't pay for or had to make himself. which, for those who didn't know, was something he loved very much about max's girlfriend. her ability to make beautiful smoothies and coffees.

"yeah, well done you, oscar! i seriously thought she wouldn't believe it but it shocked me more that she didn't question you," daniel chuckled in bewilderment as oscar patted his friend and rivals shoulder

afterwards, the grid and wags realise that, whilst charles did "hack" into the hotel that y.n and max were booked into for that night and following weekend, it wasn't because max was proposing to y.n. it was genuinely because they didn't actually get to fully celebrate their four-year anniversary that was the third time that they thought a proposal was happenng. so, instead, you guys were going to celebrate it on that friday and saturday instead.

five

it's this day, the fifth time that the grid and wags think a proposal is gonna happen that it's daniel that teases the group. sending the grid back at the paddock doing more media interviews this location that he was in with max.

"...you guys will never guess where i am!" daniel sniggers cheekily which earns some confusion from the grid and wags who were basically bored out of their minds

with so much waiting around to do before filming some interviews and videos for their social medias, lando almost groaned at his friend, "oh, i don't know, daniel. are you by any chance planning a new strategy to win another race?" he replies which earns a laugh from daniel but also from the rest of the grid, including y.n, although it's obvious she wasn't paying attention

only laughing because everyone else was, daniel knew it was the perfect time to tell the rest of the grid and wags, "i'm at the jeweller with max and, it's a fancy one," he smiles over the phone

"gold thanks my love, silver makes me look discoloured," heidi jokes, shockingly not realising the situation after she started to also, like her boyfriend, pull away from the bets of wanting max and y.n to get engaged

"good to know miss berger, my love. but, i'm here with max. because ages ago, when you guys thought for a third time that he was proposing to y.n, he asked me for help in my opinion on a certain piece he was looking to buy..."

that was when it clicks in heidi's and lando's heads, lando slipping out of the chair, "...wait, is this finally the day that it happens?" he just about whispers with his eyes wide and his hands already starting to perisperate

"i seriously think so guys...well, max's walking back over and i can tell that y.n's attention on your guys' end is turning back to you so, i'll talk to you all later," daniel hangs up and focuses back on max

seeing that daniel was about to uncharacteristically freak out, max spoke up, "and yes, it's the time to do it daniel. it's why i asked you back those few weeks ago when everyone thought i was going to do it for the third time i think *chuckles*..." max trails off as daniel's eyes nearly fall out of his sockets

he nearly chokes on his own red-bull smelling saliva, "wait, you weren't joking when you were asking me for advice on an engagement ring?" daniel whispers, realising just how honoured he suddenly felt to be given this opportunity - especially considering he and heidi weren't even engaged let alone married yet

"yes...i know you and heidi aren't engaged or married but, i want you to help me and give me advice on an engagement ring for y.n. i was being serious that day when i came to you and asked. i know she loves emeralds because of the emerald necklace and earring set i gave her for our four-year anniversary but, i don't know if that's quite her style in rings as well..." max trailed off, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and stressed, grateful he had daniel with him even though they should have technically been at their team meetings

overcome by his own emotions and seeing max overcome with emotion, daniel had to fight himself to not give the younger racer a huge hug. resisting however, daniel takes in some deep breaths which causes max to watch and copy so he could calm himself down as well.

"well, whilst y.n loves to wear emeralds on necklaces and earrings, do you know if she has any emerald rings? cause that's a start and if she does have emerald rings and wears them quite often then, yes, that would be the choice of engagement ring you'd buy. but, if she usually wears a different stone more than the emerald then go for that one, alright?" daniel advised as max smiled and nodded his head, feeling more confident

as a smile overcomes his face, he pulls out his phone and goes straight to his photo album of you. majority of the photos you are wearing a specific ring with a specific stone. and whilst the stone wasn't an emerald, it was a saltwater pearl ring that you got given by your mother that you always wore on your ring finger. you would wear it until the day you would change it for the real life saltwater pearl engagement ring you'd get when you'd eventually get proposed to.

looking at daniel's pride-filled face of how, just like figuring out the racetrack, max quickly figured out the type of engagement ring you wanted. and how it was the exact same as the one you had been wearing ever since your mom had given it to you. except, whilst it would be similar, it would be different because max made sure that whilst the stone was pearl, it would still be obvious that it was an engagement ring. and not just a replacement for the one you already had broken because, that pearl ring hadn't broke. it was just being replaced for the real deal.

and, of course, max didn't really need daniel's opinion on the actual ring itself, he just needed the help in figuring out what stone and whether it was emerald or pearl. so, when daniel helped in figuring it out by asking him if there was a specific stone that you wore more often then the other, that was when it clicked in his head on the stone of choice.

"daniel...thank you for coming with me and helping me. i'm glad you were able to come with me even though we're supposed to be doing interviews and content," max thanked the former red bull and current vcarb driver, pure sincerety seeping from not just his words but his body language

and daniel smiled, "my pleasure max and, don't be thanking me. it was an honour to help you find the right one for y.n," daniel replies, not stopping himself from hugging the red bull driver this time

which made the dirty blonde sincerely chuckle and welcomed the hug lovingly. feeling pride and like an older brother to the younger driver, daniel couldn't help the urge of a sudden flood of tears that had started to well up in his eyes as the two racers reached the car.

the one

"...hey guys, what are you all doing on the 28th of april?" max asks, completely out of nowhere since it was another meaningless day in the paddock

"that's like, nine months away. you really think i plan that far in advance, max?" lily questions, nevertheless, checking her calender in her phone at the same time, her concentration from oscar fleeting for just a second

"to be fair, i was not expecting that reaction," you smiled devishly, clearly hiding something and smiled at max

"let's go once more and if they don't get this, i think i'm just gonna throw it at them..."

"...lily, carola, rebecca, kika, alex and heidi, would you like to be my bridesmaids?"

just when you thought you were going to literally have to throw the ring at them, a delayed and very loud "oh my god!" bounces from the walls as everyone turns frozen. it's heidi that is the first one to regain her composure, "wait, what are you saying?"

with a joking roll of your eyes, you hold up your left hand and wiggle your fingers...oh and the new and upgraded pearl engagement ring, "aren't you gonna ask where i got the upgraded pearl ring from?" you pretty much giggle, surprisingly enjoying the reactions

daniel then stands up since it was clear not even mr honey badger had anything to do with it and pushed it chair away, "you actually did it?" he was soft in his question to max

"i did it," the blonde nods, his smile wider than ever before if that was even possible

"you've caused the grid to go into meltdown, max," heidi chuckles, looking all around her to see everyone in shock on the floor or their seats

however, it wasn't for long as the girls that had been asked to be bridesmaids, heidi included, jump out of their seats and rush over to you, "why didn't you tell us the second you asked her, max?! of course...of course i'm free that day and even if i'm not i'll make myself be free! and excuse me, how dare you ask me to be your bridesmaid with the insinuation that i'd say no, i'd love to be your bridesmaid!"

nearly toppling over you, alexandra smashes into you for a hug as you couldn't help the laugh that erupts from your throat. after alexandra's over the top reaction, the grid and daniel stood up out of their own seats or off the floor and also crowded around you and max. of course then came all the congratulatory hugs and face squishes and wanting to take a closer look at the upgraded pearl engagement ring.

and, obviously, the next day during the actual race and then actually the next couple of weeks, the wags and the grid starts to bring in little cakes and muffins and things to keep the celebrations of the new formula 1 engagement up and continuing. because, now that the engagement had happened, that meant it was now time to plan the wedding. but, you and max didn't care, you just loved that after waiting for so long, the grid and wags that is, they finally got their moment to celebrate their two little f1 babies get engaged because not only were you even more in love with your now fiancé but you just felt like you were being attacked with love at every angle and you loved it and you embraced it. 

oh, and remember that bet that was going around? yeah, it was actually daniel that won all of them so, he got all of the money. shockingly, he managed to correctly predict the exact date of the proposal without even being given the date from max. because, even though daniel helped max in figuring out the ring was a pearl and not an emerald, that didn't mean he asked nor was given any other information about the day of the proposal. only that the ring was a pearl so, it was pretty funny and a shock to the system that daniel predicted the exact date without knowing it. and he didn't get the day before or the day after, he got the exact date on the dot. for a while, certain people on the grid and wags were a bit suspicious (charles, the wags and lando) but a couple of days later and they just found it amusing and amazing that daniel was such an amazing predicter as well as formula 1 driver. to the point that he was then asked to predict the day that the bachelorette party was going to be on. but, that was obviously when daniel drew the line as everyone was needed for whatever it was that they were even needing at the paddock on the day before a race after they had done everything they needed to do. because, f1 and grand prix's unfortunately doesn't stop just because an f1 driver and his girlfriend get engaged. 

fin

so proud that i was able to finally get another one-shot out after my new job and having writer's block. even though this is a recycled fit and already has a version with charles, i also do love my max version as well.

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride 2

The Meeting

Say hello to my intersex Imp Styx. As I'm sure many of you know the evenly stripe horns are indicative of male Imps and the thin strips white are Female. And also my hellhound Pluto. Also Vagqie is 5'4 and when lucifer met her they were about the same height; but also keep in mind that he was wearing heals (that's canon, like it's in the episode). Finally, I can't believe that he has a nose

When you woke up you were still in the old wedding dress and heals. The veil had fallen from your head, you had slid it back on and flipped the veil back over your face. Whatever brought you here isn't going to get to have you so easily.

You wandered around to the halls of the place you fell into. They were red with gold columns lining every few feet. The walls were lined with apples and the columns were accentuated with what appeared to be snakes coiling around them. "Whoever designed this place needs to be fired."

On the other side of the palace, in the thrown room, Lucifer was panicking. 

"Okay! Everything's going to be fine!"

A little Imp wants in. They were taller than most Imps and had big horns that curled inward towards each other like a heart. Their hair was slip down the middle. White on the left to match the male Imp horn that was slightly bigger than the one on the right; which was female in origin with black hair that was almost tinted dark blue from some angles.

"Styx! Did you get everything set up?" Lucifer asked panic evident on his face.

"Yes sire!" They saluted him. They stood at about 4'11 and wore black leather pants, a short burgundy corset, and a white shirt with long sleeve frilly.

"Good! good."

"Sire. It might be a good idea to take off your ring as to not scare or confuse the young miss."

"Oh! Yeah, I guess." He slid off the ring that had matched Lilith's. The first time he'd taken it off in seven years. "Can I really do this Styx?" 

"Well it is up to you, but if you want you could let her go."

"But then I'd be alone again."

"I suppose so Sire."

Lucifer looked down at his ring again and materialized a black box to slip the circlet if gold into. "I can do this, somehow I know it."

You hadn't gotten very far in your expedition of the strange new place you'd found yourself in. You found a library though which was good. Always good to have a place to hide. Eventually a small fluffy creature resembling a bull dog. She had grey fur and wore a loose black dress that went down to her knees, with a red wine colored bodice. She was only 4 and a half feet tall.

"Good evening my lady." She curtsies and you awkwardly due the same. "Please my lady. Don't feel the need to bow at me. Please follow me to the thrown room."

"Thrown room?"

She sighed. "Yes. Where the king is." She looked back at you and saw you planted firmly in place. "Come on!" she motions for you to follow.

"What's going on? Where am I? Who are you? What was with the spooky fiery rift in space back in the store?"

"Are you serious right now? You sold yourself to the king of hell. Don't play dumb and pretend like you have no idea what's going on. And what's with the wedding dress? Do you actually think the king would choose some lowly human like you?"

"I'm sorry I seem to have misheard you. I thought you said the king of hell."

"I did."

"...hell? ...as in-"

"Lucifer yes." She cut you off.

"There has to be a mistake! I didn't sell my soul to him! I shouldn't be here!"

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't."

'Maybe I can convince him to let me go. He can take Regan or Kaitlyn, I don't care!'

"Head inside." The bulldog ordered.

"May I please have your name."

"Pluto."

"I hope you have a good day Pluto." 

You walked into the room. 

"Darling!" A short man ran up to you and pulled you into his embrace. You struggled as best you could but his grip was firm and unrelenting. "Sorry, to tight?" He lessens his grip and you shirk away.

"Please don't touch me. We don't know each other."

"Oh of course! My apologies. Lucifer Morningstar, your new husband~" 

"What? No... um I think there's been some mistake. I don't belong here."

"Of course you do! You're going to be my bride! That little bug wouldn't have dressed you up like this if you weren't the one intended to be my new wife!"

"But I didn't exactly want that to happen."

"Well you're here now so you might as well make the most of it!" He cheered coming closer to you.

"Wouldn't you rather have someone who wants to be with you? I'm sure there's plenty of goth girls or satanists who would kill to get this opportunity."

"Ugh. You know you humans are really ignorant. Him and I aren't the same. Neither are I and Beelzebub."

"Okay...?"

"That's not important right now." He came even closer and you back into the door. He grabbed the bottom of your veil and you snatched his wrist.

"Doll..." He sounded serious. "Show me your face."

"No thank you."

"Sorry Doll but that wasn't a request." He yanked out of your grip and took your veil off with him. "There! That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You backed up as close to the wall as you could and actually got a look at him. He was about 5'4 and had platinum blond hair. His eyes seemed to glow piss yellow while his pupils were blood red. He wore a white suit with a pink and white stripped vest underneath. His books were black as were his hands though you weren't sure if those were gloves or his actual hand color. 'but he's so pale.'

"Hm? Take a picture it'll last longer~" You rolled your eyes. "You know darling if you're so interested in my hands I can give you a demonstration of what they can do~" Your face heated at his words, and the face that he brought one of his hand up to his mouth in a V shape and licked his lips.

"Why me?"

"Because you put on my ring!"

"But I didn't know what I was doing! Why not choose someone who knows what they're agreeing to?"

"I want you Doll. You're beautiful and my heart is calling out to you. The moment I saw you for the first time in that store i knew I needed you. Come on! We have a Wedding to plan! I'm thinking next month."

"Next Month?!"

"I know it's far off but We'll need to give our guests time to prepare gifts and of course we'll need time to send out the invitations."

"Well I was thinking of more of an August wedding. But eleven months is basically a year and I'm sure it'll still be warm in hell in September so... maybe we should make it a year from now?" Your voice grew meeker as you spoke. "It would also give us a year to get to know each other."

"If I make it a year from now will you be willing to marry me?" He asked excitedly.

"Um maybe?"

"Good enough for me! Come on then! you're probably tired and you'll want to get out of this old thing."

He takes your hand and leads you through the palace.

"Mr. Morningstar?"

"Call me Lucifer! You'll be a Morningstar soon! I suppose I'll have to talk to heaven about turning you immortal. Charlie had begged me for siblings when she was younger, so I'm glad to finally be able to fulfil that."

"Lucifer, I think that we should stay in separate rooms."

"What? But why?" He whined.

"We just met." 'and your the devil.' "And I'm rather traditional." 'No I'm not but you don't need to know that.'

"Alright if that's what you wish Darling."

"And one more thing. Wouldn't it be so romantic if our first kiss was the one we shared on our wedding day?"

"Ooooohh! Like the ones in those romance novels that are so popular on earth!" She squeaked. 

"Yeah... like those."

"Well here we are! It's the best guest room in the place! I'll have Styx put on some new warm sheets on the bed and I'll get you some clothes. You probably want to go take a bath."

"Um I'm good I'll shower in the morning."

"Nonsense Doll. Unless this is a backhanded way to invite me to join you~"

"I'll go take a shower ON MY OWN!" You said running out of the bedroom.

"What am I going to do?

After your shower you cracked the door and looked down to find a pile of clothes and no Lucifer in sight. You changed into them and found the shirt tight on you and the thong given to you a bit too revealing for your taste. "What am I going to do? I can't walk out there and show everyone everything."

"Yeah, I'd prefer this all saved for my eyes only." Lucifer's voice called from behind you.

"Ah! What are you doing in here?"

"Just admiring the view." he slowly gazed up and down at you tracing the curves of your body.

"May I please have something that actually fits me?" You rolled your eyes and your arms came up to cover your chest.

"Fine..." He huffed annoyed. "But I think the size of my old shirt looks cute on you." He snapped his fingers and the shirt grew so long it basically became a night gown. 

"Is this really okay to do to your clothes?"

"It's an old shirt I don't wear anymore."

"This thong better not have belonged to your kid."

"No! no. nonononono! It was uh, my ex-wife's."

"Oh. That's a bit weird isn't it?"

"I'll take you out shopping for clothes tomorrow, but for tonight you can either use those or go commando. I know which option I'd rather see~"

"Goodnight Lucifer!" You pushed him out of the room.

"Goodnight Darling!"

'What am I going to do?' You thought.

[tparker48]

Request for annonymous

"Why does he always choose the morning?" Sleet groaned. "Doesn’t that nerd sleep?"

“You said it." Ramon chimed. "Nerds always try to beat the mornings. He probably needs held cataloging books?”

Sleet banged his head against his companion’s thumb. "I swear If he woke me up for that bull crap, I’ll send those books into the ocean!" He said. “It’s been ten minutes, How long is gonna let us freeze out here?”

Ramon banged against the solid metal doors, the science echoing beyond its barriers. It let out a hiss before fog covered the floor, rubbered boots stepping forward. Pressing at a small tablet would be the doctor, dressed from head to toe in a hazmat suit. He adjusted his goggles, eying both of them.

"You two are fashionably late,” He said coldly. “I expected you two to be here earlier."

"The sun is barely out, Wilco, unlike you nerds some of us enjoy the morning sleep." Sleet said.

"Yeah, Show us what’s good!" Ramon chimed, Massaging his barreled gut. “And show us breakfast while you’re at it.”

Wilco’s eyes rose in the shades, muttering beneath his breath. He stepped to the side, ushering the both of them inside as the doors hissed shut. They moved through the corridors of the lab, passing by checkpoints before entering the main quadrant. Wilco dropped them off at the small breakfast table before heading into the next room, preparing for the experiment ahead. 

Ramon and Sleet slouched over the end of the breakfast table, sampling the tray of donuts onto their plates. 

“Ah, now this is what I’m talking about.” Ramon took a bite out of a glazed donut. “What sweet deliciousness to start the morning.”

“Well don’t go hogging it all for yourself, pass me one!” Sleet demanded.

Ramon rolled his eyes, plucking one a donut hole from one of the trays. “Here.”

It dropped into his head, and he cocked a brow. “You’re pulling my leg here.”

“How so?”

“You call this a donut, it's hardly the size of me! Hand me of the big ones.”

“Nah uh uh,” ramon waggled his fingers. “These delights separate the men from the boys. And you are no man.”

He bit into the side of a donut, sprinkles scattering below as Sleet shielded himself.

“That’s ridiculous! I’ll get it myself.” Sleet climbed along a cloth to the top shelf, maneuvering around the plates of eggs and bacon before reaching the donuts. He reached the plate, and lunged for a donut.

Ramon’s palm slammed between them, creating a wall as his free hand carried the plate.

“Hey!” Sleet yelled.

“So close, and yet so far!” Ramon said, ringing a finger through a hole of one of the donuts, taking a bite.

“Gimme a donut!”

“You want one so badly,” He unbuttoned the middle of his shirt, placing the plate along the peak of his bare stomach. “Come get it.”

Sleet groaned. Of course the oaf would make it harder, but his stomach grew louder than his taunts could imagine. He accepted.

He jumped onto Ramon’s belly, wobbling backwards. It was like stepping onto a waterbed, every breath he’d make caused the flesh to slant, before returning to its round form. Sleet crawled to the edge of the plate, reaching for a sprinkled donut.

Ramon sucked in his gut, A filled donut sliding from the plate. 

Sleet wheezed as its fluffy surface dragged him from his ramon’s belly, floundering into his shorts. He peeled himself from its white frosting, Ramon's bellows filling the air.

“The way the way your eyes widened” He gasped between his laughter. “Like watching a deer in headlights.”

Sleet’s eyes narrowed. “You're one to talk!”

He hoists the filled donut between his arms, angling it upward. With a fierce squeeze, a stream of strawberry jelly rushed out of its hole, shooting into Ramon’s nostrils.

“Ah, fuck! In the nose?!” He writhed.

“You get what you sow pal!”

“Why you little-”

The doors of the other room hissed as Wilco stepped out, drones orbiting around him.

“Enough of your tomfoolery you two, it’s time for the experiment.”

—-----------------

The sun changed in the clear sky, lab assistants moving data from room to room. Behind the closed panel doors, Wilco had them strapped to a treadmill. fire lit under Sleet’s ass as they ran in place, his hamstrings tightening as he focused on the small gauge next to their panels. Ramon was far from strained, his legs eating the rubbery gaps like a track star. Sleet shared glances at his progress, tightening his legs in efforts to increase his own.

 They ran for nearly an hour, Both dripping with sweat as they caught their breaths. A panel slid open as data collectors rushed in, siphoning samples of their salty fluid before vanishing into the glowing corridor. With the last sample taken, they were relieved of their restraints, Sleeping over their knees.

“Decent work, but your pace was slow.” Wilco tapped at his tablet. “I need a positive coefficient if I'm going to get the results for effective reproduction methods!”

“Bite us..my legs are cramping here!” Ramon groaned.

“You..try running on that thing..with no break.” Sleet rolled onto his back.

Wilco groaned, rubbing his fingers between the bridge of nose. “I'm going to have grey hairs dealing with you two. Take five! we’ll continue the experiments after.”

Wilco left the room, Leaving two of them on the treadmill. Ramon was the first to hop of, his legs releasing tension before relaxing. Sleet barely reached the edge of his machine before a sneaker stepped in his path, following up its length to Ramon’s smug face.

“Don’t even say it..”

“What?” His face beamed. “I didn’t say anything?”

“You’re thinking it!”

Ramon let out a soft chuckle. “Well maybe a little. Just proves my point of what separates the two of us.”

"Get over yourself." Sleet snapped back, climbing over the shoe and onto the floor. “You got long legs, that’s all there is.”

“Suuure.”

The two of them entered the next room, and froze. A catalog of flasks decorated the walls, gadgets of all sizes held up on pedestals. In the center of the room, Wilco was putting in the latest entry of data, sending it to a bot as it wisped into a panel in the ceiling. As the two approached, he turned to them.

“Snazzy joint, doc.” Sleet said.  Look at all these toys you made for yourself.” 

“These are not toys!” Wilo said. “ These are state of the art technology. The tool that’ll change the future for our next generation.”

“So..toys.”

Wilco groaned, adjusting his glasses before moving to one of the tables. A metallic panel rose from a piece of metal, holding a bronze ring as it glowed beneath the ceiling lights.

"I wouldn’t be surprised to see you think of it that dully. So it’s best to show you." He plucked the ring from the holder, holding it between us. " Behold, my latest creationI, the Phantomizer!"

"The Phantomizer?" Ramon squinted at the ring. "It looks so..finicky. It's not one of those mood rings is it?"

"The nerve to compare my genius to such levels! This ring is the best of its kind! It overshadows the mere designs of those ‘mood rings’."

He pressed at a panel, and a platform lifted from the ground, carrying a single red apple. He twisted the ring, a crimson halo stretching along around the rim. He hurled a balled fist towards the apple.

His palm phased through the apple, flexing his fingers to the otherside.

Sleet’s eyes widened. "Holy cow! It phased straight through it!"

"Of course it phased straight through it," Wilco retracted his palm, causing the stationary fruit to wobble. "It is one of my inventions after all."

"Far out!" Sleet climbed one of the computer wires to the table. "Let me give that a shot!"

A wall of mass blurred his vision as Ramon blocked his way. “Like hell! I want a try at it first!”

"Absolutely not!" Wilco rebuked.

"What?!" Sleet and Ramon shouted.

"One, use of inventions are allowed under personnel." He pulled the ring from his fingers, setting it up on the platform. "And second, it's you two. you’re both far unqualified to even hold a match."

"Unqualified?!  We come every Saturday just to be Guinea pigs!" Sleet walked closer. "Come on, I promise to be careful."

“I second that, I second that!” Ramon chimed.

"No. End of discussion." Wilco flicked his finger, sending sleet from the platform and into the collar of Ramon’s shirt. Dusting his fingers, he moved toward one of the monitors. "Now onto pressing matters, I went ahead and increased your efficiency. It should prove sufficient for your slow pace.”

Oh he’ll show how sufficient his pace will be alright, starting with a kick in the shin.

Sleet rolled my sleeves, wrestling against the folds of Ramon’s shirt, But halted. The ring was still on the platform, it’s halo emitting an ominous glow against the metal border. His eyes lit up, a smile pulling to his ears.

"You know, you’re right.” He announced. “That sounds like a great idea!" 

"It does?" Ramon cocked his brow.

Sleet kicked a leg against his chest, pointing his eyes toward the table. Ramon’s eyes followed, a spar lighting in his as well.

"Of course it does!” Sleet continued. “We should be honored to help out such great genius!”

Wilco’s eyes pried from the monitor, eyeing the both of them. "You two seem more eager to test than anticipated."

"What can we say, we’re late bloomers. It just took us a while to see what lies ahead. Right, Ramon?”

Ramon blinked. “Er, yeah. Yeah, definitely!”

Besides, what good is the future if we can’t help the genius mind leading us to it?” Sleet said.

Wilco scratched his beard with curiosity, his eyes softening. That's it, sleet could see his high horse turning in that hazmat suit. As the seconds drew, his profound smile returned, huffing his chest to the ceiling.

"I suppose there’s some brain cells in those noggins afterall. Then we’d best not delay the future."

Sleet’s eyes twitched, but kept smiling.  Wilco turned, grabbing his tablet from the table before moving to one of the sliding doors. Sleet looked toward Ramon, who eyed the ring still sitting on the table. As the solid doors sealed shut, they shared smiles toward each other.

-------------------------------------------

Two passed by Wilco's inventions and ventured through the metal corridors to the heart of the lab. It took some work to pass by the other eggheads hauling data to the other rooms, but the two of them managed to pass by unseen.  They found a secluded storage area tucked in the far corner of the hallway, locking the door. The two of them set up shop along one of the counters, the ring resting between them.

"To think this hunk of junk phasing through objects." Sleet poked at the hollow buttons, wincing as air hissed from one of the ring’s ducts. "How do we even switch it on?"

“The nerd put it on his middle finger, thing must react to touch.” Ramon said.

"Huh.” He eyeballed the interior of the rings, trailing a finger across its length. "Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

He rose the ring over himself. Its metal walls skid against his sides, the duct's vibrations sending a tingle up his spine. He lowered it further until his waist filled the empty space, pawing the buttons building from the ring’s exterior rim.

“How does it feel?”

“LIke I’m walking in an inflatable tube.” Sleet grunted, rotating the ring around. “Not really feeling phantomy.”

“Huh..” Ramon scanned the shelves a foot away, grabbing a rubber ball nestled between a couple of dusty books.

He hurled it at Sleet, who raised his arms to block it. The little man flinched as he phased through it, feeling only a faint wisp as the ball slammed against the wall behind him.

“How about now?” Ramon said proudly.

Sleet patted himself down. “A little warning before you decide to chuck a comet at me, you jerk!”

“Calm down, I threw it soft for ya.”

Soft? He could hardly call it that. Sleet caught his breath, looking back to the toppled ball on the floor. At least Ramon proved it worked, in his own bashful way. He shook the thought from his mind, taking the other items along the shelves.

"Well it can pass through balls, so let’s test this thing out. Grab everything those grubby hands can muster, Ramon."

A smile crept up on his face, his broad form looming over the shelves. A symphony of clangs and beeps echoed from the platforms, boxes and spare parts turning the once clear surface into a scrap yard.

“How are these, Sleet?” Ramon asked.

"Perfect, these'll do for now." he replied. "Let's start with that tool box first."

"With pleasure."

Ramon  scoured through the pile, picking up the metal box and placing it on the edge. Sleet came just a foot from it, readying his stance before charging forward the wall.

An invisible force stopped him in his tracks, repelling him into a pile of slinkies.

“The heck was that?!” He tapped at the wall, tackling against the wall.

“What’s the hold up?” Ramon said.

“Stupid thing’s acting up.” He replied,  stamping and twisting the buttons surrounding him.

“Well hurry up and fix it. Who knows how long before that nerd finds us.”

“Don’t rush me!” twisted the knobs around the rings, steam seeping through its creases. "all these damn buttons, so confusing."

Twisting another knob, the ring let out an intense hiss. He rattled against the slinkies, shaking them from the edge of the counter top before grazing into other gears. The ducts of the ring of the ring closed, its crimson halo flaring brighter.

Sleet approached the tool box, sticking his hand through its side. "There, see? fixed."

“Finally!" Ramon said. " Well gon then, I wanna see some action!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

For the past hour, the two continued their fun with the ring. Ramon gathered more gadgets from the shelves, bundling them in hills to block Sleet’s path. He greeted his challenges with fierce sprints, leaping through the air and past the pile of metal.

Wearing that ring was like putting on a power suit, sending a thrill through Sleet like he never experienced. It was fantastic. To think the nerd created an invention this fun. With it, he could do anything. Phase through anything.

He readied a stance, bolting toward a tool box. He lunged into the metal wall, phasing through the bolts and wrenches lying inside before phasing through the other side. He lost his footing as the ring dipped on its side, spiraling like a lost tire before cushioning against his companion’s crotch.

He titled his gaze to the tool box upside down, a smile resonating. “I could get used to this.”

The plushy bulge behind him shifted before a shadow overhead, Ramon enveloping his view.

“All that flipping around has me excited!”  Ramon said. “Let me have a rack at it!”

His fingers streaked overhead like a crane, lowering to the edge of the ring. He grasped air as Sleet rolled forward, clambering the side of the ring like a turtle on his back.

“You can’t use it yet!” Sleet shouted, getting to his feet.

“What? Why not?”

Sleet eyed the counter, his mind racing. “Because..because the kinks  aren’t fully tested yet! You don’t wanna end up stuck in a limbo. It’s better if I keep it.”

“Bullcrap! You already tried the thing twice.” Ramon said, his eyes narrowing. “If your scrawny butt can work that thing, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Arched palms raced towards Sleet, plunging from the air like hawks hunting prey. He pressed the ring, The digit’s phased through his midsection. Ramon’s eyed widened, before narrowing again as he swatted at Sleet.

“Lousy! Sleak!”

“Sorry, big guy. You’re just gonna have to wait until the boys are done.”

“I swear when you unphased your gonna get what’s coming to you!”

“As If I’d do that. As far as I'm standing I'm practically invince-” Sparks flicked along the ring, his fram flickering like the flame of the candle. “Eh?”

An outstretched palmed slammed against him, siphoning the breath from his lungs as he soared to the shelf. He plowed into a pair of rags, tumbling from their fabric to lower platforms. He dropped for a mere second, before he clung to a string from a duffle bag.

“High! Oh that’s high!”

“Well well, never took you to be one afraid of heights, Sleet” Ramon said from below, his eyes plagued with amusement. “Not so invincible up there, huh?”

“Get me down!” 

“Sure, but there’s something I’ll need from you first. Fork it over.”

“You sly..There’s no way I'm handing the ring to you.”

“Then I guess you’d better find a ladder.” Ramon’s smile pulled wider, crossing his arms. “Or else we’ll see if that ring gives you the ability to float.”

Sleet groaned, clinging to the drawstrings. Forget him then, he’ll figure out how to get down himself. He gripped the slim string, wrapping it around his wrist. Slowly he wormed himself upward, focusing upon the squared platform above. The string drooped, and he clung to the string. 

“Place your bets folks!” Ramon put on his best announcer impression. “Will the climbing mite make it to the platform, or will he take a skydive?”

“Shut up will you! It’s hard enough trying to-!” He pulled too far, his stomach dropping as the string bent.

Shuffling manifested above, the duffle bag he clung peering over the edge. He could feel gravity pull against his body, the spots along the wall raising as the bold red letters of the bag peered over the edge.

Its knot unfurled, nuts and bolts roaring from the opening. They struck the ground floor like meteors. Ramon raised his guard, the bulk of his forearms absorbing their impact. But Sleet wasn’t as fortunate. He found himself in the path of the showering bolts. Pieces of metal struck the ring, sending him into a tailspin. 

 Buttons flickered around him, smoke shimmered from my view. "Crap crap crap!" He flailed, Banging a fist against the ring's metal hide. “Work you stupid thing! Work!”

 The Crimson halo glowed dimly, before becoming lost in the sparks. Inertia twisted his further, the ground zooming closer. His bangs turned to slams, the button barely lighting. He looked down to Ramon, who was still bombarded by bolts.

“Catch me, you idiot!” He called out.

He received a groan, before Ramon limbs shifted. He fanned aimlessly at the sky, swatting away stray bolts. His fingers loomed close, just within reach. Sleet tried angling himself, extending his own hand to the ascending palm.

He bounced off Ramon's middle finger, rolling down his forearm.

“You missed! You have to use your eye you-” The ring halo flickered on, stretching to the ducts that hissed passively. “Freaking finally!”

He fiddled with the buttons, widening limbs to keep himself from spinning. He looked past his companion’s shoulders to the counter below. The slinkies were still there bundled together, repelling any bolts that impacted their springs. The perfect landing pad. He readied the ring, aiming for a gap between Ramon’s shoulder and neck.

He jerked as a stray bolt struck the ring, sending him off course. 

He ricocheted against Ramon’s bicep and into the open air, hurling toward his broad chest. He crossed his arms over his eyes, awaiting impact. He felt nothing as one of the pecs loomed close, and he fell into darkness. He spiraled through the endless void, grasping for anything to ease his twisting stomach. Before long, Watery sloshes filled the void, a tender surface slamming against his back.

"Ow! Not..my greatest landings" He rubbed my back.

He clambered to his feet, but could barely move an inch. Darkness blocked his sight, leaving only the hollowness of the empty chamber. Did he fall through the floor? No, he was too high for it to have been that. He fanned his arms outward, warm fluid dosing his palm.

“What the..?” He squinted, sniffing at the alien substance. “Ugh, It’s horrid. Smells just like...Ramon.”

 Sparks fluttered from the corners of the ring, the halo flickering. Its glow illuminated the hollow space. A pool of translucent fluid surrounds his knees, guarded by a dome of wrinkled flesh. The sound of breathing muffled through the walls, and the realization came to him. He didn’t fall through the floor, he was inside Ramon.

The wall behind him pressed its weight against his back, forcing his head between his legs. “I’m inside Ramon?! This is not what I came for!” He wrestled his arm against the tender wall, forcing it back back. He used the other to take to the button’s of the ring, twisting them to phase out of the prison he found himself in.

The ring didn’t activate, answering with sparks and flickering lights.

“No, no no!” He twisted harder. “This is no time for this stupid thing to croak!”

 He gritted as the wall stiffening, wrapping around him like a capsule. He forced them back with a leg, before looking ahead. Compressed between the folds, a pucker winked eagerly, sipping at the puddle surrounding. The ring was no good, he’ll have to get out of this himself. 

He trudged against the folds to the shriveled pucker, sinking a palm between its lips. It sucked his elbow inside, compressing it into a narrow space.

“Compressed you stupid thing, open!” He dug further,  trudging his feet through the fluid. He bucked as a fold slammed against his rear, thrusting him to the rim. “Wait, that’s too quick-”

--------------------

The last of the bolts trickled to the floor, Ramon letting up his guard. His head throbbed from the metal bombardment, lumps spreading across his forearms like pimples. "Lousy termite! That hurts you know!"

He scanned the bolts along the floor, kicking chairs away before peering under the table. Nothing, not even the sign of legs. The runt must’ve run when the bolts fell. Of course he did. 

He stormed from the storage room and into the hallway, shifting his gaze from one side of the corridors to the other. “Those tiny legs couldn’t have carried him far.” He growled, scratching one of his pecs. "All this gymnastics is making my nips itch!"

A hiss echoed from the door around a corner, and he smiled.

“Gotcha.” He marched to the end of the hall. “Oh when I get my hands on you I’ll-”

He paused as he eyed the open doors. A pair of drones flew into the corridors, Wilco following behind as he stepped into the middle of the hall. His eyes narrowed past his tablet to Ramon, piercing into his soul like needles. 

“W-wilco!” He tensed, holding an arm. “Wh..what are you doing back here?!”

“My drones detected an increase in the ring’s usage in this sanctum. And here I find you.”

"Oh! Well you see! I was uh..Helping clean the storage! The collectors sent me to fetch a broom. A-as a matter of fact. I was just heading there no-”

One of the drones soared from Wilco’s side, blocking his path. 

"That won’t be necessary. You're staying where I can see you!" Wilco said, pressing the screen of his tablet as the drone’s lights glew red.

Ramon swallowed saliva as the professor moved toward the monitors, scanning the panels for data. He eyed the drone orbiting above, its lens dilating before slitting into focus.  His nipple quivered as tightness returned, twisting in itself. He squashed his pec between his palm, rubbing it around like a stress ball. As if dealing with the nerd was hard enough.

“Where’s Sleet?”

Ramon blinked. “Huh?”

“Damages always lead to you two. And if you’re here, he can’t be far behind.”

“Well your guess is as good as mine.” He rubbed at his nipple. “It’s been a minute since I saw that mite pha-..er, use the restroom.”

“I see..” The professor said, his screen continuing to glow red. "No signs of the ring’s trail. Then we’ll have to find it another way.”

Wilco pressed at  his tablet,  the lens of the stationary drone flickering as it hovered between the two of them. A panel opened from its side, a small emitter holding between its clamps.

“What’s that?” Ramon asked.

“It’s an emitter I designed in case the ring gets lost.”

The emitter illuminated a tender glow, the drones angling the device higher in the air. A fire lit inside Ramon, A vibration rattling his pectoral.

He caved to his knees. “Freakin-! Gah!”

“What is it now?”

“That drone’s setting my nipples on fire!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it's programmed to channel to the ring’s frequency.” Wilco said. “Unless..”

Wilco tapped at his tablet, the drone flashing before heading to Ramon. He looked up as it held the device. His nipple ripple harder, its plump muscle sending a buzz through his pectorals.

“Ah! I told you that thing is hurting!”

“Far from it. In fact, I think it just found where the ring might be.”

The drone retracted the device into its console, metal clamps extending from its sides. Their cols appendage wrapped around his pecs, cupping them like udders on a cow.

"Woah woah, what's it doing?!"

"Extraction. I can't risk damaging the core." Wilco replied, "It should be painless, just hold still."

The drones clamps rotated along his pecs, their leathered tips grazing beneath them before connecting with each other. He let out a steady beep, before it slowly began to twist.

Ramon writhed in its grasp, prying again the metallic arm. “I thought you said it would be painless?!”

“Theory, but in this case it’ll need more effort.” Wilco replied. “Increase efficiency.”

The drone beeped again, his pecs spilling over the clamps. Slowly fluid seeped from his nipples, but there was something else, a complex object sliding from deeper inside. The itch returned, stretching across the interior of the pecs. It was they were..arms

The alien object rose higher, his left pec bulging.  Its bulb quivered before gaping open, and the butt of the ring was birthed. Fingers clung to the other end, clambering to keep their hold along the slick surface. the ring pulled higher, and sleet’s head blossomed from the bulb.

“Sleet?! The heck are you doing in my pecs?!” Ramon yelled.

"Take..a guess!!" I yelled, gasping the fresh air.

The drone unlatched from the other pec, extracting the ring from Sleet’s grasp and into Wilco’s palm. Sparks erupted from the ends of the ring, its glow watered down by translucent fluid.

"Ugh, no wonder I couldn't find it, you goof balls damaged its tracking system!" He flicked the juices from its hide. "This is going to set me back for weeks!"

"Well the should have came with an emergency switch!" Sleet jerked, causing the pec to wobble. 

"Will you stop fluttering like they’re some floaties!" Ramon yelled.

"Easy to say when your not stemmed to the darn things!" Sleet turned toward the professor. "Ay, doc! Your invention caused this! Mind giving us a hand."

Wilco’s face turned, looking at the damaged ring. He glossed a finger along its rims, eyeing the translucent fluid that seeped between them. 

"Sure I'll help.” he said. “And I've got just the thing.."

-------------

The alarm of a digital clock rang through the corridors of the laboratory, lights of unoccupied rooms shifting off to reset their cycles. Wilco poured his coffee, studying data sheets gained from today's sessions. Despite morning’s setbacks, he managed to gain sufficient data, if not more now that he’s found a new source of research.

"This should suffice for the day." He logged out of his computer, placing the data into a machine.

He inhaled the fresh brew of caffeine in his cup, entering past the sliding doors and into his lab. Strapped to an elevated table, Ramon resided, suction cups wrapped around his pecs. fluid siphoned from his nipples, filling one of the cups to the brim. In the other, Sleet was present. The cup shook him around like a beverage shaker, tossing him and the knee high fluid against the translucent plastic.

"Oh hey, doc!" Ramon announced, catching a donut deposited from a bot. "Come to check on progress?"

"I have. It seems you've been getting accustomed to the sampling table."

“I'm surprised myself, thing feels pretty nice after a few suckles.” He wolfed the donut into his mouth, swallowing it down. “ Feels like a chick playing with my nips.”

The filled suction cup buzzed before a valve siphoned the fluid inside, crumbling from the pec like a sticker as it fell to the floor before another latched on.

"Why am I still stuck in this thing?!" Sleet banged the plastic, wiping juices from his face.

"You’re a factor in Ramon’s production, I can't have it messing up accurate data." Wilco replied. "Besides, it's your fault you wound up there, so you’re just gonna have to wait like a good volunteer."

"That’s a bunch of bull!"

"Ramon’s efficiency is of high importance to my research. I’ll need accurate data to test how  fast a man of his calibour can produce fluid."

"You hear that, Sleet?” Ramon chuckled, catching another donut. “He needs to test a real man. As he should."

"Granted your efficiency to create fluid is noted, Ramon.” Wilco said. “However, you still have yet to produce enough for a qualified sample."

He twisted a knob, the suction cup tightening before increasing its pace. Ramon bucked against his restraints. Sleet ricocheting from the walls.

"Again with the squeezing?!” Ramon wailed. “I barely recovered from the drone!"

"You're complaining?!..grh!..Whose the one getting ragdolled?!" Sleet chimed.

“Enough bickering,” Wilco placed his tablet on the table. “You two's only concern should be retrieving efficient data!"

"We've been doing this for hours!” Ramon gritted. “I don't think my nips can take this much prying!"

"Don't we..have enough already?!" Sleet added.

Wilco lowered his gaze to the monitor, its screen emitting the results. 

Sufficient data: Completed.

"Nope, still got a long way to go.."

[sandbarbirdie]

At What Cost

Description: Rhett Abbott's dreams start to take shape, but at what cost?

word count: 2.5k

c/w: blood, descriptions of injuries.

a/n: a formed thought from conversations with @sebsxphia that manifested into. This is the longest thing I have written in probably over a year so be kind.

Adrenaline pounded through Rhett. A strong pulse rang in his ears, contrasting the sharp sound of the metal gate latching and the booming announcer on the megaphone. Cheers from the stadium rumble through the earth, the high-pressure atmosphere illuminated by the bright lights shining through the dusty haze kicked up by boots.  Eight seconds. 8 seconds to win. 

Rosin sticks to his worn glove as it works into the braided leather. Simultaneously, his other hand readjusts the hat perched on his head. His eyes search over the sea of people in the stands, smiling softly to himself as they land on the familiar shape of your hat and the color of your worn jeans. He can tell adrenaline and concern courses through you, even from a distance. You swallow your worry, manifesting in how your knuckles are white from gripping the metal railing of the bleachers. Pride overpowers your outward worry as you cheer his name, your smile lighting up the stadium. You ease his stagnant anxiety.

He'd had a good circuit, making it to the Semi Finals within the collection of neighboring counties. He placed in the top 3 every ride for the entire circuit. Currently, on his second ride of the night, he sat in first. If he kept the momentum, he'd break into the national circuit at the end of the night. A rough hand on his shoulder breaks him out of his gaze and back to his place on the bull. With a deep breath and a roll of his bad shoulder, he gives a curt nod. The chute opens.

1 second. 2. 

6 more seconds to make his score. You refuse to take your eyes off him in the center of the ring to look at the timer. With each second ticking, the world slows around you. The bull's heels are high, and in a tight twist, Rhett rides. The buzzer sounds with a sharp ring throughout the arena. Instantly you are on your feet, calling out his name with joy. You were ecstatic, his hard work, and your shared sleepless nights leading up to this minute. Yet, within an instant, your breath hitches as his grip falters and he cries out. In a chaotic flurry of motion, dust kicks up. Your world stops. 

The stadium is quiet as the dust settles. Your world is unmoving. Rhett lays on the ground, and the bullfighter is yelling something incoherent to the chute. The commotion is enough to feel fear rise from your feet. Your heart quickens at the telltale stain of dark red on the dry dirt. "Get up. Come on! Get up" Your heart sinks. "Rhett, come on. Get out of there". Desperately, you call out his name, breaking the tense silence as the bull returns to the side of him. "RHETT"  Rhett grunts as he hits the ground. His hat is a few feet from impact. Numbly and gasping for air, he narrowly turns his head into the dirt, missing the hoof land on the ground adjacent to his shoulder. He blinks in a daze as a body collides above him and covers his torso.  Seconds tick by. He gasps for air, the wind knocked out of him. He only registers that he is on the ground when a hand is placed on his chest to stop him from sitting up.

Someone is speaking to him. A blurry figure tugs his vest off. His body limply reacted to the motion, ears ringing. His shaking hand reaches to the bridge of his nose. His eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to subdue the spinning. With his eyes shut, blood speckled across his cheek and forehead, his mind could only focus on you. 

Where were you? 

The bull clears, and before you can stop yourself, you are trying to jump the railing, ignoring the people beside you trying to call out to you. All you could think about was getting to him.

Pushing through pain and shallow breaths, he cranes his neck, wincing at the stadium lights. Disoriented by the brightness, he could not register the faces or what was said to him. His head spun as he tried to piece together anything. Where were you? He thought he had seen you here. Swallowing, he weakly called out. Your name tasted of copper on his lips. A cough shook his diaphragm, his world growing blurry, edges fading. He felt hands on him and weakly tried to push back. A shadow blocked the harsh lights overhead.  It had been the longest 3 minutes of your life. The determination to make it to Rhett removed any ability to make a sound judgment of time. The moment your boots hit the ground from the 4-foot drop off the stands, you started running. Fear twists in your gut with each step closer. The closer you got, the more desperate you became. Your breath hitched as his neck craned in your direction. His eyes failed to focus on you, just a few feet away. You pushed past the stadium EMT, not caring what he had to say at this moment.  Rhett coughed as your knees sank into the dirt by his head. With your hands cupping his face, you watched as his eyes looked up toward you, his vision wavering in and out of focus. Your heart sank as you realized that he could not see you. He flinched at a motion from the paramedics, overcome by blinding pain. Weakness withheld the ability to reach out to you. Rhett, you said softly in a desperate attempt to help him regain focus.  "I am right here. I am here Rhett." His eyes never reached yours, and he struggled to focus beyond the blurry edges of darkness. Unknowingly, his wide greens searched desperately for the familiar comfort of yours. Shallowly drifting out of consciousness, he murmured something that sounded like your name.

"Rhett. Rhett! Stay awake. Please- Come on Cowboy. Keep those pretty eyes open." You knew your pleads were useless as you watched his eyes blink into stillness. That did not stop them from tumbling from your trembling lips anyway.

Tears ran freely down your cheeks as you numbly watched as Rhett transferred to the backboard, a neck brace having been placed on while you kept his head still. You flexed your hands into fists in an attempt to stop their trembling.  After briefly speaking to the EMT, you returned to the parking lot. His hat found its familiar home on the dashboard. Tear-stained and with a tight chest, you climbed into the driver's seat. It numbed you to pull the seat forward instead of seating your long-legged cowboy. With a shaky thumb, you flipped through your contacts and let the tone run on speakerphone.  Caller ID: Royal 

You hadn’t slept. The nurse's tried to convince you to take a break or walk to the coffee machine at the end of the hall. Royal looked at you with an unspoken concern when you refused his extended opportunities to rest. You and Rhett had agreed that you wouldn't call him unless it was important and you were grateful for his presence when speaking with the Surgeon. Yet you let Royal off the hook from your anger, not having the energy. He hadn't been there to watch his son ride and couldn't move past leaning in the door frame watching the rise and fall of Rhett's chest. Eventually he had to return to the ranch. He gave a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes as he turned away. Leaving you and Rhett alone. Yet you never left Rhett's side. Your fingers traced patterns surrounding the IV in his hand. The nights left you with your head buried in your hands next to his bedside, often waking up from short bursts of sleep during the nurse’s night rounds with a blanket placed on your shoulders. You were grateful that the staff allowed the violation of its visitor policy with a turned eye.  Before the second surgery to reset his shoulder, he had been in and out. A few mumbled hi’s with low squinted eyes and “I love you’s” drawn out into sleep. A concussion haze took over and then the fever.  You were cautious carding a hand through his hair, unable to ignore the heat radiating and the sweat clinging to his soft curls. Fingers carefully avoiding the stitches. It was almost cruel how peaceful he looked. The bruises on his jaw had begun to heal. The underlying yellow served as a subtle reminder of the passage of time. Your heart ached, flooded with memories of similar moments in the light of early morning in your shared bedroom, a calloused hand on your hip.  His recovery hadn’t gone as initially planned. Stitches, broken ribs, and, a dislocated shoulder were enough to land him in the hospital, along with the concussion. The surgeries were successful and it was now only up to time. He had pulled through most of it, however, more concerning was the development of a building fever and potential further bleeding. 

A low hum rumbled through his chest. You missed it at first. You felt it the second time rather than heard it. Your hand had traveled to cup his face and brush a curl behind his ear.  Weakly he swallowed and pressed his head back into the pillow. Slowly, with heavy lids, his eyes blinked. His brows furrowed as he blinked again. His vision adjusted to the low amount of late afternoon sunlight streaming in the room through half-open blinds. His whole body felt heavy, he fought against it with a grunt to stay more or less upright. Confusion spun through his mind.  "You are alright", a soft voice said beside him.  He took in the edge of the hospital bed. His eyes wandered to his name written on a whiteboard by the door. He silently studied the patterned hospital gown and the sling on his left arm. Confusion continued, especially as his attempt to sit up was unsuccessful and fatigue coursed through him. His eyes wandered to the hand resting interlaced in his. His breath was shallow as he fought against the heaviness pulling him back.  He slowly turned his head towards you, eyes shut as he tried to fight the wave of exhaustion. His eyes met yours. The familiarity overwhelmed him. He’d spent so much time trying to find your eyes. Now he was searching for himself within them.  "Hi" he mumbled, wincing at the exertion of shifting in bed.  "Hey you", you said softly, smile following.  "Shit. I-" he breathed. "It’s okay. You’re okay, take your time" You spoke softly and let him process on his own. After a few moments of silence, he blinked away tears, his hand squeezed yours weakly. "Darling- I’m sorry. I scared you real bad, didn’t I?" His free hand comes up to cup your face. His thumb gently swipes underneath your eyes.  "What am I going to do with you", you laughed softly, overwhelmed with emotion. You cupped your hand over his and sighed. "but yeah, you scared us all quite a bit there" "I- I thought I heard you scream my name." He said after some time. "I tried calling out for you. I couldn't find you. Tasted too much like blood" His voice cracking. Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes. You hadn't expected him to remember.

"I was right there. Ran as fast as I could to you" He swallowed. Then he leaned back and let his hand drop from your face. His head throbbed, he pinched the bridge of his nose as a wave of dizziness overtook him.  "'m sorry." Rhett stared at the ceiling with watering eyes. Guilt racked through him. "I don't know what I was thinking" "Rhett-" "No. It was too good to be true, semifinals." He scoffed to himself. "I should've known I wasn't making the championships anyway. For what? A check and buckle? Just some bullshit. There was never a real chance of getting us out of here. Not like this anyway. " his tone shortened. "Hey- none of that. You gave them hell Rhett. People dream of riding like you did last week" "Why'd you stay? You- " He paused and looked up at you knowing not to bring up the fact that he knew that you had probably not slept much. It ate him alive, to know you had worried this much about him. That he had placed this burden on you. Previous arguments between the two of you weighed heavy on his chest. Yet sitting here, on the other end of the fear, he didn't know if it was worth it anymore. Aside from you and the animals, it was his everything. His out. His route to leaving this shitty town behind for good. He decided against finishing his thought. Dizzy, in pain and overwhelmed he closed his eyes.

"Seriously, do you think I'd just leave you like this? After everything- You paused as you realized the silent tears running down his cheeks. "Hey Hey. You'll be alright Cowboy. We'll be alright." you said softly as you ran your hands through his hair again. You cursed softly realizing just how warm he had grown. His body started to relax and he mumbled something about being dizzy as fatigue started to return. You pressed the call button and wiped his tears.

"Will- Wiil you stay?" He hiccuped.

"Course. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here when you wake up"

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 7

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Jim shifted uncomfortably under the uv light; part from the slimy, crawling sensation the light gave and part from the extended period of strained silence. He really wasn’t sure how he’d expected these rock guys–

Trolls. They’re trolls, he’s a troll, you’re a troll–

To react when he showed that he was really a human. Shock was understandable but the dead silence and bug-eyed stares were starting to worry hi–

Abruptly the older looking troll leaned down to hiss something in Blinky’s ear, Jim had just enough time to see Blinky’s eyes widen before he broke away and bolted out of the cave. Before he could even start to process that a large, gray hand filled his vision. The big mossy guy slowly reaching out towards him.

“Human…”

The second the purple light touched big guy’s hand there was a soft sizzling sound, big guy jerking his arm away with a wince. Wait was that smoke coming up from–

A loud snort pulled his attention back to the big blue spiky guy, who’s expression had gradually shifted from shock to seething rage, standing there panting through gritted teeth while he straight up stared daggers at Jim. All that combined with the nose ring reminded him of an angry bull–

It suddenly hit him just how much bigger these troll guys were than him, and how much more breakable his spine was in this shape.

“Hey Tobes I think you can kill the light now,”

“Whoops, sorry, got it,”

The uv light and the slimy sensation vanished, Jim shifting back to his blue shape, letting out a small sigh of relief.

His relief was short lived as the older looking troll pushed past the angry spiky one and stalked towards Jim.

“So you claim to be human?”

“Uhhh…..yeah?”

The old troll tapped the tip of one of Jim’s horns, making Jim flinch.

“You don’t appear human at the moment,”

“I can kinda change back and forth,”

“Change?” the old looking troll whipped down until his face was inches from Jim’s, his milky gaze narrow, Jim shrinking under the scrutiny “How?”

“Well that’s a bit of a complicated st–”

“How now changeling!”

From out of nowhere something flew in and smacked Jim on the face, sending him staggering back, clapping a hand to his cheek.

Whatever it was that had hit him fell to the floor with a clang. Jim slowly peeled his hand away, the blow had been far more shocking than painful, looking up to stare at Blinky, who was staring right back with all six of his eyes blinking.

“Umm ow!?”

Blinky swept forward, grabbing the object off the floor and pressing it, startlingly cool, up against Jim’s face.

The beginnings of a low growl rumbled out of the back of Jim’s throat before he caught himself, stepping back and shoving Blinky away from him. With the distance he could finally see the object in Blinky’s hands.

It was a horseshoe.

Blinky looked at Jim then down at the horseshoe “Well that was…unexpected,”

“Actually I think that was a very expected response to having a horseshoe thrown in your face,” Mary said snipily.

Blinky– well, blinked at her “Horseshoe?”

“Never mind that,” the older troll gave an impatient wave “Blinkous, the rest of them,”

“Ah, yes, of course,,”

Without warning Blinky surged forward and pressed the horseshoe against Mary’s cheek.

“Hey!” she slapped him away “What the hell!?”

Blinky ignored her and moved towards Claire with the horseshoe. Claire frowned and tried to step back only to be blocked by the big mossy guy standing behind her. Allowing Blinky to touch the horseshoe to her face as well.

Toby and Darci didn’t try to run, allowing Blinky to tap them with the horseshoe with matching grimaces and a muttered ‘personal space much’ from Toby.

“Ok seriously,” Jim stomped towards Blinky “What is with the horseshoe!?”

“Well you see–”

Blinky was cut off by the old troll deftly plucking the horseshoe from his hands and tucking it into his waistband.

“No matter, we might not be certain of what you are but now we are certain of what you are not,”

“Ok enough with the cryptic answers,” Claire approached them, hands on her hips “What’s going on he–”

“He can’t be the Trollhunter!”

Everyone, human and troll, whipped around towards the big spiky guy, who somehow looked even more pissed off.

“He’s not a real troll!” he slammed a fist into the side of the cave wall, making the whole cavern shudder, tools on the table rattling.

The older troll rushed to his side, grabbed him by the horn, and yanked his head down “Lower your voice!” he hissed “Do you want to alert all of Trollmarket of this…irregularity,”

“Trollmarket deserves to know that the amulet is in the hands of–”

“While I admit the amulet’s choice is…unprecedented,”

Old troll and spiky troll shared a look at Jim that made him more than a little uncomfortable.

“But while I’m not sure of what exactly he is, we know he isn’t–”

The next word was something coarse and guttural, not in english, something completely unlike any other language Jim had heard.

“And I will not risk inciting mass panic by having the entire market speculate otherwise. So as far as the rest of Trollmarket is concerned, our new Trollhunter is an ordinary stripling, albeit one that keeps…peculiar company,”

Jim frowned “Hey, leave my friends out of this,”

Old and spiky completely ignored him, spiky too busy gawking at old’s words “You expect me to conceal the truth like some kind of–”

“Conspiracy!”

They all whirled at Blinky’s shout, two of his hands clasped to his cheeks in horror, a third hand pointed accusingly at the old troll.

“Can it be so!? Am I witnessing the birth of a dreaded conspiracy orchestrated by our market’s elder himself right before my six eyes!?”

“See!?” spiky threw a hand towards Blinky “The scholar agrees with me, Trollmarket must know!”

The old troll pinched the skin– stone between his eyes. Jim was still figuring out how to clock trolls’ facial expressions, but he didn’t need to be an expert empath to tell that this guy was completely done.

Abruptly the old troll looked sharply back up at Jim “You, Trollhunter, is there a sanctuary you can rest at on the surface?”

“Ummm…yeah?”

“Good, go there with your companions, AAARRRGGHH will escort you to the surface. Return to the bridge tomorrow at dusk, we will discuss more then. In the meantime I will smooth things over here,”

Spiky scoffed “You can’t truly expect us to–”

“One conspiracy breeds more, today the Trollhunter’s a human, tomorrow gnomes will rule the market!”

The big guy– AAARRRGGHH presumably, gently nudged Jim’s shoulder, urging him towards the exit. Stretching his considerably long arms out to herd them all towards the exit of the cave. Confused but eager to get away from the yelling, which was steadily increasing in volume, Jim complied, and after glancing and making sure AAARRRGGHH wasn’t being too rough with the others, allowed the large troll to herd them out the door. 

AAARRRGGHH took a different direction than Jim had coming here; old, spiky, and Blinky’s shouts fading behind them as he led them through a narrow stone corridor– well narrow for his size, you could probably drive a truck through this hall. Eventually leading them back to the crystal staircase towards where they’d come in.

“So uh…” Toby craned his head back, trying to get a glimpse at the top of the stairs “You guys don’t happen to have some magical version of an elevator? Or maybe even an escalator?”

“El…ooh…vay…tor?”

Toby huffed a deep sigh “Of course you don’t,”

Despite literally everything Jim could help but crack a smile “Relax Tobes, I can give you a lift,”

“Not on your life,” Toby clamored up to the first step “Do you know how many points this is worth on my chubby tracker? I’m doing this,”

“Hey if you’re offering free rides I’ll take you up on it,”

Jim started and glanced down, spotting Mary standing right next to him staring up at him completely unashamed.

“What? It’s a miracle I didn’t break a nail during our run from tall dark and ugly, no way am I risking my manicure over stairs,”

“No problem,” Jim crouched down, allowing Mary to climb on his back “But say one word about a hair care routine and I’m dropping you,”

They began their ascent, Jim taking an easy lead even while carrying Mary. The others were a lot slower, having to use all four limbs to scale stairs that were clearly made for much larger creatures, even Jim had to do a little hop between steps. AAARRRGGHH could have probably easily outpaced them all, but he hung back, bringing up the rear with no doubt deliberate slowness.

Soon enough they reached the top, Jim letting Mary down while Darci eyeed the entrance uneasily “So the guy who tried to kill us earlier is gone now right?”

AAARRRGGHH nodded “Bular gone,” he reached out holding a pointed, glowing orange crystal, drawing a glowing arch in the wall with its tip. Once it was complete the wall beneath the arch crumbled away, revealing the empty canal on the other side.

Jim and the others cautiously stepped through, the second they were through the wall started rebuilding itself. AAARRRGGHH waving at them from the rapidly rematerializing wall “Bye, see tomorrow,”

Then the wall was sealed and he was gone, leaving the five of them standing in the canal. No trolls, no Trollmarket, no glowing crystals, no nothing. Bare concrete lit with sickly yellow streetlights. A car rumbled on the bridge overhead.

For a few seconds they stood there in silence, glancing around at each other with uncertain looks. Mary opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out a loud series of chimes and beeps filled the formerly silent canal. All five of their phones going off simultaneously. They all scrambled to pull them out while Jim held still. His phone was sealed up in his armor, honestly he was still trying to figure out the physics of where his clothes went when the armor appeared, but he saw Toby pull out his phone, and saw who all the notifications were from.

Jim winced, oh this was not going to be good.

“Here let me,” he held out a hand “It’ll probably be better if I’m the one who talks to her,”

Toby plunked the phone down in his armored hand with no hesitation “Better you than me dude,”

In the time it had taken Toby to hand off his phone it had chimed five more times. Too many texts and voicemails to check, better just call right away and rip the band aid off. Swallowing hard, Jim pressed the dial button, lifting the phone to his ear as it rang, the other side picking up in just two rings.

“Hey mom,” he spoke up before she could get a word out “Some stuff happened but we’re all fine. We’re underneath the bridge on Main, can you come pick us up? I can explain more face to face but we uh….we learned a lot…”

[octuscle]

The bros at my work have always been dicks to me, calling me stupid and whatever, and recently they've been whispering and grinning at each other when I'm around.

I just found a note saying "Grunt, white boy" in my locker, what does it mean?

Aside from the note, you notice the smell in the locker. But is anything different? The astrophotographs are on the door, your shirts are neatly stacked in case you need a fresh one, no, everything else is the same as it always is. "Grunt, white boy. A bit silly to put something like that in the locker of an Indian-born IT administrator. You make a note in your remarkable to install a security system for your locker.

Some joker also changed your favorites list in the browser. What are you interested in protein powder stores? Or porn sites. If they are porn sites. At least they show pretty naked pretty muscular fellows. Fuck, why does your dick jump at that? Okay, these fellows are really hot! You don't realize how long you've been surfing the NSFW pages until a colleague calls you and asks if you'd like a coffee for breakfast. Shit, you've been looking at bodybuilders for over an hour. And on the side, you bought over $200.00 worth of supplements.

Your colleague says at breakfast that the radical buzzcut suits you. A bit unusual, but suits you. Emphasizes your bull neck. You shovel in the liter of low-fat curd cheese with protein powder that was in your compartment in the refrigerator and nod. Tell your pal something about your training and nutrition plan. He looks at you a bit uncomprehendingly and asks if you want to watch the transit of Venus together with your telescope tonight. You laugh and say that you don't stalk bitches. But with the hot Latino stud from across the street, you're in.

Back at your desk, you're a little unfocused. Taking care of your to-do list is really hard for you. You haven't really accomplished anything yet. But you take your lunch break a little earlier than usual. You get your gym bag out of your locker and take the subway to the gym. Lifting iron will bring you back to the right thoughts.

Yes, you've overstayed your one-hour lunch break a bit. Your boss calls you on your cell phone and tells you to get your ass to the company, there are problems at the wastewater treatment plant. Of course. Always at the squats. You don't bother to shower and change. Wastewater treatment plant doesn't sound like it's a white collar job. So get in your pick-up truck, head to the company, get to your locker and get into your janitorial overalls. And then see where the problem is. Fuck, you literally have to go knee-deep into the shit. So once again the rubber fishing pants over your clothes. The long gloves are helpful, you don't need a gas mask anymore. The other colleagues are wimps, but you grew up on a farm in the Midwest, you are used to slurry and pigsties. And with a well-aimed grip in the shit, you've also solved the problem.

Your cell phone rings again, you take off your right glove and answer it. One of the trucks won't start. You are really the handyman around here. To avoid making a big mess, you walk around the outside of the building. Nevertheless, the people you pass hold their noses. Idiots! Yes, you stink of sweat and feces. But someone has to do the dirty work. The nice thing is that everyone still stares at you. It's clear, in your work clothes your big muscles come out even better. The next tie-wearer who stares at you, you grunt like a pig. Come on, it's true! You're not an animal in the zoo here!

Nevertheless, the colleagues in the car shed refuse to repair the truck with you. First you have to wash yourself. If they want to, let them get a hose. That's how you did it on the farm, too. You have no problem with that…

[stopisa]

your shared bedroom is typically very quiet if you ignore the snuffs of breath your boyfriend exhales through his nose sometimes in concentration. tonight is a different matter, a completely different matter, actually. an otherwise peaceful space has been disrupted with four very distinct sounds; flesh slapping against flesh, the ringing of a cow bell, your partner’s grunts and the helpless moans that escape your plush lips.

your face is buried into the pillows, moans barely muffled by the fabric every time ushijima withdraws that abnormally long cock, heavy balls slapping against your sensitive clit when he forces his way back in. you’d think it was his favourite pasttime to mount your smaller body, large calloused hands palming at any inch of your body he can - he particularly likes to grab at your ass, pulling the flesh of your cheeks apart so he can watch the sweet cunt he loves to breed so much struggle to fit every inch of that god forsaken cock of his.

the bell is a constant reminder of ownership, healthily of course. you’d gifted it to him barely two years into your relationship and he’d refused to part with it since. in your household, it’d become a familiar sound to hear it chiming as ushijima moves around. but when he’s clambering over your back, roughly trying to shove as much cock into you, it’s just a futile reminder that you’re not the one owning him.

“—jima!” you wail out, almost drowned out by his vocal grunts by your ear, his hot breath fanning across your skin. he’s either planning to bend your body in half or merge you with the mattress - either way, you’re feeling it in the morning.

he’ll continue until the pillows are damp with your drool and pretty crystalline tears, not a thought in your head other than the numerous loads of thick cum he’s dumped into your womb, filling you up like an unsatiated hunger. he’ll continue even if your legs are shaking and quivering, your body struggling to hold yourself up. he’ll continue even if he has to flip you onto your back, your hands grabbing at his shoulders and long protruding horns for some semblance of something to cling onto while you endure just another mating season with your beloved partner.

you wouldn’t change it for the world.

hybrid tuesday order no.1 !! 🌷

hoLY SHIT thank you so much for blessing me with some bull hybrid!ushi😭😭 i am so grateful u went through the lengths and feeding me like this. fuck but now you have given me such ushi brainrot that you plus others will have to hear me yell about !!

all i kno is this is how i b post-mating szn

[extravagantliar]

The first time he stands, he falls.

He hits the ground, and his ears ring. The world slows, and his fingers curl into something that isn't there, clawing against the wood of the floor as his body responds to the pain; his knee screams in a way that makes him see spots behind his eyes and flares even. It is actually sparks, magic behind his eyes, a crumbling building that he finally sees in Haven, a blast of magic that sends him back, sends him tumbling, clawing into the snow, the dirt, the silt, the grey bleeding into his vision. 

His ears still ring, and Solas is in the doorframe. 

He can't be. 

Can he? 

Glass shatters somewhere.

He can’t be here. 

Could he? 

Are they both living? 

Are they both dead? 

“Solas?” He doesn't move, not like he should. Instead, it is a disjointed rhythm in which the shadow moves, a disjointed time in which a hand reaches for his, and it stains his skin. He's falling through the ground, falling through the glass, through memories, through the death threats, into loneliness, into that grey abyss. In that stress that he writhes against

“Wake up, Varric,” Solas states, his words creeping out against the darkness of the world around them. Varric’s ears ring, and his chest hurts; it's explosive. It's like his insides are being torn apart, like that knife, like how he remembers looking at different brown eyes as the world went dark and there was an order for him to live. He had been ordered to live.

He was never good at orders. 

He writhes, stuck to that floor - eyes on the door, hand still up in the clutches of that shadow, the shadow that is not there, the shadow that should wretch a scream out of him, rather the grip is one of an old friend, it is warm, it is fond. Solas turns his hand over, tracing the lines for him as Varric breathes, begging for mercy, begging for him to kill him. Begging time and time again, as if he sees his brother with Red Lyrium coursing through his veins and angering the song in his heart. He begs, and it comes out in waves crashing against a timeless stone. 

“Varric.” Solas pauses somewhere in the median; his gaze shifts, the way it does when he has a winning hand, the way it does when he has the answer, the way it does when they have bested them all. “Let it go.” 

“You first.” It is choked out, gurgling even. He can feel the blood in the back of his throat, the acrid and metallic taste overwhelming him, how it drowned two lungs, how he fell into darkness, how he drowned in choppy waters, weightless and feckless. Sweat beads and pours down his face. A bead catches on his nose, and that shape reaches out and brings one long forefinger forward, swiping it clean. He doesn't understand him; he doesn't understand this. “Why didn't you?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Varric.” It is more mournful than any white lily on a pyre, any white rose that Varric could clutch in death. The motions are too kind. Something is wrong. He is on the floor of the rotunda, and his head is swimming for one reason or another. 

“Varric,” Solas states, not from beside him - rather, he's leaning against that ugly settee that Vivienne once threatened to set ablaze. “What did you drink?”

He picks himself up off the floor, hand against the stone. It's just like the flagstone in the rotunda. It’s a memory where he and Solas cleaned Bull out and Dorian out, and they even took Josie for a ride. 

“Firewater.” Varric states, stretching and pulling himself to lecture, “And whatever Tiny was pouring after midnight.” He reminds the apostate that Cabot would disappear and Bull would take over the bar every once in a while; it pulls a laugh from Solas, one hand still dramatically on his head as if he's blocking out the lamp light as well. “And then whatever else Tiny poured.” It could have been anything from an Antivan White to a Moonshine brewed in the heart and heat of Kirkwall. 

He feels good, his shoulder rolls into place, and he inhales. He feels good. “We win?” Varric asks, rather than rifling through Solas’s desk. He pays no mind to the papers or missives; rather, he pulls the key hidden among into his hands. It slots against the top drawer, rather than the one on the bottom that hides honey whiskey and a deck of cards they pass back and forth. They are thirty years old, and the deck lingers in this in-between space. 

“Barely,” Solas states, forcing himself to lecture, and that doesn't work; the man ends up hunched his head between his knees as well. “You poured the last hand.” 

“Who allowed that?”

“You, you insisted with your endless generosity,” Solas states, it sounds pained. Varric laughs, and that pains him. Fucking hangovers. Varric laughs through it, counting the notes that are present; he always counts. Then, the silvers are counted next, split and set aside. “Even?” Solas asks.

“More than that.” Varric states; the coins come into his hands, and they are more than even. Varric knows he will pour the gold into coffers worthy, and Solas will do what he does with whatever paltry winnings they get. “We are up.” He states, scratching something against the parchment. Something to remind them that they are both gambling together - like some gambeson that was meant to protect. “Up by…ten percent.”

Something summons a time of peanuts on the floor, of sawdust in every corner, a cat stretching up into his pant leg. A darkness pulling him back. 

But it is also the unknown.

It is sulfuric.

It is him floating.

It is him half-blind to the past, the present, and the future. He doesn't know what is true, as he can feel the hardwood, understanding his fingertips - how they scrape the hardwood floors and claw at them, blind and knowing he was destined for something more.

He's on the floor, and Sidri finds him, quelling fears. 

“Varric.”

It doesn't sound like his name; it is just ringing, just that haze, just that haze that shifts into man, a man he considered among the most trusted in his life, a restart in his life - and then with poetic metre he falls, through that glass, the wood, through Sidri’s fingers and her words, he falls, it is grey, he slips, he is waiting for something to break the cycle, something that swirls and nearly drowns him, like an endless pave to follow forever, like a curse he falls limp, falls too and there is a scream like a knife like something else like Solas again, this time in the Frostbacks.

Varric is carrying two packs, about to be three if Solas needs the hand. But he’s leading and forging the path ahead for them all; Varric squints, and the first sunrise over Skyhold greets him. All of them cheer at that moment, even him, a great wolf whistle that Fenris taught him.

That whistle sends him back, and he gasps, lurching forward against the hands on his abdomen rather than his chest, a familiar face, a face that always gives him pause, and he is weak; he is the weakest he has ever been. “Sid?” It is not a question of identity; he knows her. The way her heart beats, rather it is also the song he hummed somewhere when a seizure took her, somewhere where magic ravaged her and eyes glowed green and burned through him, and he could feel him conducting the magic, willing it out of him and into the ground. 

She's not that woman in his arms. The roles flip. He is in hers, and he is still on that floor, but Solas is not in that door frame; he does not linger yet. Yet, Varric’s voice haunts himself. Some great grey echoes against her, something, someone he considers the saint and holy lady of the mundane, and he seizes.

Was this destined?

Something half-blind, remembering second-hand smoke and a home long reduced to rubble. 

“Varric!” It’s three voices, someone tipping his head back in the Hinterlands and pouring a potion into his mouth, it’s the hand in the back of his jacket stopping him from running into flames, it’s a far-off song, a love echoing in his ears. 

He's alive, still plastered against that floor, his fingers slipping through something that is not there. His head aches, and it settles against warmth. His eyes are still unfocused, and he hears the echoes of someone barking orders. It reminds him of a canopy where he first found his voice, that Eden giving him the second wind and his voice as the Viscount.

Kirkwall. 

Home.

A garden spread wide, lying somewhere hidden in Thedas.

The ringing in his ears plays, dying, one key at a time as the pops of colours, the memories against his eyes fade, and the dark shadow on his wrist is identified as a shadow; he's alive. 

He's alive.

He gaps, breathing, air filling lungs. That's more steady, but his eyes dart and find the hand in his. It is not cool or the man who traced his palm and outlined his death in one cool breath, words not ice, but rather Solas had outlined them in a way that melted every ice-filled word to water, cascading across him. So he reaches, pushing Sidri’s hair out of her eyes, pushing tears from Solas’s.

“I’m alright.” His vision clears, it clears, it clears, and he breathes, air stinging his lungs. “I’m alive.” It is Minrathous, it is her. It is colour, he begs.

It doesn't negate the panic, the flicker.

The blood on the faces.

But Sidri speaks; it is not orders, but he finds himself grounded to that floor. 

He's alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

Solas is also alive.

They’re some how, some way, somewhat alive.

[shootybangbang]

The Nature of Hounds [Part 1/?]

[Ao3 link]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Mature

Tinkering around with low honor Arthur Morgan. Unedited, feel free to point out errors and give criticism.

------

When you shake the pocket watch, it rattles with the jingle of loose parts. You frown and set it back down on the table. “This is broken. Best I can do is three dollars.”

“Get outta here with that shit.” Arthur taps the metal casing. “This is real gold. You can do at least ten.”

You weigh the watch against your palm.

“Well?”

“Gold plated.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“You know I don’t kid when there’s money on the line.”

“Lowest I’ll go on this is nine.”

“Four.”

He gives you a look.

“You think that yokel over in Emerald Ranch’ll give you a better deal?” you ask.

Seamus would buy this fucking watch for no less than fifteen fucking dollars. He’d give the thing a once over, offer a timid “I can give you five”, then buckle at a glare and go triple. And yet here he is. Following the whim of his cock and his own misplaced affections, like a bull with a lead strung through its nose.

“I’ll tell you what. Mr Kuang downstairs used to be a watchmaker. This thing doesn’t sound that busted, and he owes me a favor anyhow. I’ll do you four fifty.”

He raises his eyes up to high heaven and sighs. “Fine.”

“So adding up the rings, the pendant, the cameo, and the, uh… the teeth… I’ve got you totalling seventeen.” You slide a neatly penciled memorandum across the table. “Check my sums if you don’t believe me.”

“I ain’t botherin’ with that.”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t.” You sweep the little pile of stolen goods into a drawer. “Is it because you’re stupid or you’re sweet, I wonder?”

“Prob’ly the first.” He dips his head down to steal a kiss, but you press a stern palm against his shoulder and hold him at arm’s length.

“Not when I’m behind the counter.”

“Take care of this shit later.”

“Down.”

“C’mon—”

“I said down.”

So he steps back with his heart sunk one notch lower. Posts himself near the front door, arms crossed, hat brim tipped low, cleaning the dirt beneath his fingernails with a pocket knife as the rectangle of light spilled from the window begins to tick across the floorboards in a dimming dial. He presides over the thin trickle of customers and peddlers alike with a baleful eye, and it’s not until the bell tower in the square tolls five and you swing open the side gate in a flurry of swirling skirts that he can pull you in by the waist and sink into the frantic kiss that you press him with.

Locked door, shuttered windows. Hurriedly, you flip the sign posted against the glass from OPEN to CLOSED as he flattens your back against the wall and pulls the ribbon at your throat loose with a yank of his teeth. You sift your fingers through his hair, then grip hard, yanking his head back. “Three weeks without a letter, you bastard,” you snarl. “Thought they’d hanged you someplace out west."

“Aw, don’t tell me you was worried.”

“‘Course I was worried. You’re my best earner.”

The smile you flash along the slight is sweet and quick as a fleeting slip of riverlight, and he forces himself to smile back, but the truth remains that he has never come here empty handed. Still fearful of the risk that you might cut him with the same expectant look Dutch has at the end of deals gone wrong and scores lost.

Your eyes shut slow as you kiss him again. He runs his palm up your back as he finds and unclips the clasp of your blouse and the tension in your hand loosens like weakening resolve. It surprises him still, that gentling spread that flows arterial at the simple touch of his hand.

The room tucked behind the storefront is cramped and cluttered with belongings that you have only recently begun letting him examine. When you lead him in, it’s with your hands clutching his neckerchief like reins, tripping over the hazard of table corners and your lone, bystanding chair. You walk backwards into your unmade bed, and he lets you pull him atop you with an obedience he scarcely understands. You fumble to pull down his belt and he yanks down your skirt in a confusion of hands as you work to lay each other bare. “Did you miss me,” you murmur, and he answers not with words but with a violent jerk of his hips, relaying with friction what he does not know how to otherwise.

Arthur cups his hand to your cunt, trails his middle finger along the wet seam like tracing the crest of a wave. In red fantasy, he takes the time to prime you for him, spreads and sucks the soft furl of flesh with his mouth, but you have never had the patience for foreplay. It's as if the unselfish act of pleasuring you were a step too intimate; even in this, a necessary expectation of quid pro quo that you have not the inclination to entertain.

“Come on then, gunslinger,” you growl. Another kiss, fierce and carrying the admonishment of teeth. You jerk the fabric of his shirt up to reveal his chest, then stiffen and splay your hand over the filthy bandage wrapped there. “Christ.”

“It’s nothin’.”

The cloth is stained with old blood that has seeped from the locus of his wound like a rust colored bloom, and is grimy from sweat and travel. You stare at it with revulsion. “Morgan, this is disgusting.”

The prickle of shame that stretches up his spine has transitioned to sullen indignation by the time it reaches his head. “Didn’t figure someone in your line of work to be so goddamned squeamish.” He tries to pull his shirt back down. You grab his wrist.

“Keep this off,” you say. “I’m running you a bath.”

[deadmanscity-writing]

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Request: N/A (Wasn’t requested)

Scenario/Background: Reader accidentally timetravels/replaces her doppelganger (Because I’m in love with that trope). Also, this is placed in Episode one of the third season: when Robin first appears.

Reader can be anywhere from 16-18 years old.

I’m also going to try to write /most/ of the episode this time, and not die from pausing, unpausing.. “Wait.. what did they say?”

In this fanfic, Stranger Things is still a show.

Doesn’t follow the exact story, since it is in Reader’s point of view, so it may throw you off just a little bit.

H/T(C) = Home Town(or city)

!!WARNING!!

Actions of assault in the beginning, and mentions of it later on…

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11:54.34pm:

H/T(C), [state/province], [country].

June 28, 2024 (1/6/2024):

Walking outside, with a silent hum, from a celebration of my friend’s seventeenth birthday. As I pick at the long sleeve I decided to wear on this warm night, I hear scuffing of shoes against the pavement behind me not even a minute after leaving the building.

Feeling oversuspicious at the probability of being followed, I hasten my steps.

Why’d the parking garage have to be so damn far away..!

Turning the nearby corner, I feel the person grab my hair from behind me. They swiftly throw my head against the bricked wall I stood next to. Nothing turning from it, minus a likely concussion and a future headache, I turn around to face the person, almost as instinct. Before I even get a glimpse of anything above the belt- “such a pretty thing…”- He smashes my stomach with their boot, and my face with his knee.

With a grunt, all that I can sense is ringing in my ear. I slip into the abyss as my body turns limp.

—Timeskip: eleven hours, thirty-six minutes, five seconds: 11:30.39am—

June [2?], [!??4]

Location [UNKNOWN]

Shit… I squint open my eyes. Where am I..? I sit up, looking around. I’m behind what is likely… a mall. Did he just dump me? Damn. Standing up, I run the back of my hand and arm under my nose. Dried blood either falling off, or attaching itself to my sleeve. Fuck… “This is honest bull.”

Remembering my bag, I turn my head, rapidly looking for it. I spot it in the general area I once laid.

I drop to a kneel. Opening it, I try to look for the small amount of aid supplies I usually carry inside. “How I hate the extra luggage, but I’m so glad I brought you.” I whisper to the inanimate object.

Finding the alcohol wipes, I bring out my phone, turning on the camera to aid me in cleaning myself.

“You!-” I groan, spotting the bruising on my right eye, “motherfucker…” At least it’s not swollen.. I end up roughly cleaning the bloch of dried blood under my nose, and the rest of my face. And throwing my phone into my bag.

Honestly.. These aren’t as bad of injuries for getting beaten. Well. More so, nothing is broken…

Remembering the sunglasses in my bag that I keep forgetting to take out, I rummage for them, eagerly I put them on to hide the blackeye.

Huffing, I get back up, swinging my bag over my shoulder. Walking to the front of the building, I instantly decide it best to go inside.

Not knowing where to go, I head down the escalators, spotting… a certain ice cream parlor. Looks like I gotta keep a little secret.

June 28, 1984

StarCourt Mall. Hawkins, Indiana

I wandered to other stores, buying new clothes, accessories and stopping to eat a couple times. I will tell ya’, inflation is a bitch. So glad I took cash with me. These damn prices are heaven!

Already with changed clothes, putting my old, teared, and bloodied clothes in a completely separate bag from the already few I hold. I decide it best to either wander or sit, waiting.

All until it reached 21:27pm (9:27pm). That’s when I saw the party. The main five. All of them walking inside. When they reach the bottom of the escalator, Lucas gives Erica a short lecture when he spots her with friends. Of course, I can’t hear them with the current distance. But I know what they’re saying.

Soon, I detach myself from the wall I was leaning on, following them to the ice-cream parlor.

Instead of following all the way to the counter where Mike, may I add, obnoxiously rings the bell, I stop and go to a table. Setting all my bags down, soon setting myself down too.

“Hey, dingus! Your children are here!”

“Again?” Steve slides open a window connecting to the back room. “Seriously?”

Mike just looks at him before ringing the counter bell one more time.

Steve leads them to the hallways connecting all the departments shortly after.

I set my head on the back of the seating close to the wall.

After just sitting for a couple more minutes, I decide that I want to talk to at least one of them: Robin, or Steve? I ponder. I don’t feel like thinking about the interference with the plot right now. I just want to talk.

I get up, but as soon as I do, the power goes out. I forgot that this happens.

“That’s weird…” I hear Steve. I then hear him flickering the light switch behind him. Over, and over again.

“That isn’t going to work, dingus.” I then hear Robin’s voice.

“Oh, really?” He says in response, flickering the switch faster, while looking up, facing the lights to see any reaction from them.

“It really isn’t.” I speak up.

The power then came back on, almost as soon as it went out.

“Let there be light.” Steve says smugly to Robin, who silently mocks him. He then turns to me, keeping the same smug look.

I look at him with a straight face, in return, before a wave of paranoia hits me. All I do is shiver, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

I raise an eyebrow back, “What?”

“Nothing.” He says nothing more for a few seconds, “So-”

I check the time on my watch. “Shit..” I mumble to myself. It’s nine fifty-eight.

I turn around. I was wanting to try and figure out a place to stay before ten, but it’s almost that time… damn it all. I guess… I can risk it. I don’t want to stay with Steve, but he’s also my best bet right now. I just… need to make it.. extremely clear. Or, I can ask for a ride to a Hotel. Just- something!

I turn back around to face him. “Hey! Um,” I quiet myself immediately after realizing my raised volume. “I’m, like, extremely new here, in town. I got dropped off here from the bus, and this is also my first day here, so… I was wondering if, um, you could drive me to a nearby hotel..? If you have a car. You don’t have to though!” There are… SO MANY HOLES IN THAT! What the fuck! Now I’m praying he’s stupid as some of the show betrays him to be!

“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t mind!” Not even a second later. No hesitation. He is… that stupid. Okay.

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

He grins. Wow… maybe, don’t inflate his ego too much next time…

—Timeskip: Twelve hours, fifteen minutes, zero seconds: 11:14am—

The next morning at the mall

I figured it best to not wear my sunglasses today.

“Alrighty. One scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty five. Here ya’ go.” I see Steve smile at the girl from where I sit. He looks at her shirt, “Purdue. Fancy,” I cringe.

“Yeah. I’m excited!” She response, giggling.

Steve types something in the register, “Yeah, you know I considered it. Purdue. But then I was like, “You know what? I- I really think I need some real life experience.” You know, before I hit college. See what it feels like. I don’t know.” He grabs her change from the register, “See what it’s like to earn a working man's wage. You know wh- uh.” The register rings. It’s broken. And… He’s freaking out. “Hold on. Sorry.” He then continues his story. “I think that’s, like, really important.” The two girls just look at him. Smiling at his failed attempt at flirting with the one in front.

“Yeah. Totally.” Gotta love sarcasm, but damn.

“Yeah! Anyways, this is like, so fun.” He forces a short laugh with her. “We should, kinda like, you know, I don’t know, hang out?” He hands her her change. Either her failing to catch it, or him having poor hand to eye coordination; it wounds up falling. “Oh- sorry about that. Uh- I don’t know.” He puts his hand on the counter, trying to appear more confident, hoping for the outcome he obviously wishes for. “Maybe next weekend, or,” He waits.

“Yeah, I’m busy.” She reaches to put the change in her purse.

“Oh- that’s cool. I’m actually- I’m working here next weekend.” He gestures. “So… the following weekend is better for me,” He says defeated, but hope still underlines his tone.

“Ah- no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Okay.” She says. What’s with the bitchy tone?.. I eye her, rolling my eyes. “Thanks.”

Steve tries to speak up as they walk away, “I could- this is my first day here.” I then eye him with a raised brow.

He huffs in defeat.

Robin rolls to the opening of the window. Almost as if on cue. I smile at what she’s about to say. “And another one bites the dust.” She slides her white board in view. Steve turns around to face her, scuffing at the sound of her voice. “You are O-for-six, popeye.” She places a tally mark under the words ‘You suck’.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can count.” Steve says agitatedly, while nodding, arms crossed.

“You know that means you suck, right?” She says in a teasing tone.

“Yep. I can read too.” I can tell Steve is tired from all Robin’s teasing with his rough tone he carries towards her.

“Since when?” She teases him even further. Almost as if she’s trying to knock him over the edge.

“Hey?” I get up from where I sat, walking up behind Steve. “Do you think you can put another one on there? Make it O-for-seven?” I ask, in a mocking tone.

“Oh, dingus got dusted not six- but seven times?” She looks to him, playfully shocked, before looking towards me, “Now, dingus’ friend, who was this unlucky lady?” She asks with the same tone.

“Me. When I was hitching a ride with him last night.”

“Wow… dingus, you don't know when to quit, do you?” I breathe out a short laugh.

“Sorry, Steve,” I pat him on the shoulder before leaning on the counter. “Your oh-so-sweet co-worker has to know.” My tone, similar to Robin’s.

“It’s this stupid hat!” I sigh, shaking my head. “I am telling you!” Robin sighs at his complaint too. “It is totally blowing my best feature!..” It really isn’t the hat.

“Yeah,” Robin moves the board, locking her hands, placing her arms to lay on the wall under the opening of the window. “Company policy is a real drag,” she shakes her head. “Y’know, it’s a crazy idea,” She looks up at him from her position, “but, have you considered..” She shrugs, blowing up her cheeks before continuing, “Telling the truth..?” She basically eyes him.

“Oh, you mean that I couldn’t even get into tech, and my douchebag dad is trying to teach me a lesson? I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?” He speaks with dual honesty.

I move as I hear the clacking of heals, back to my seat.

Robin grins before pointing out to Steve, “Hey, twelve o’clock.”

Steve follows, “Oh shit, oh shit. Okay. Uhhh… Goin’ in. Okay, I’m goin’ in-” just before he turns around,”-and you know what?” He reaches to take off his uniform hat, throwing it behind Robin, “Screw company policy.”

“Oh my god, you’re a whole new man.”

Steve begins to walk away backwards, “Right? Oo,” he does a small dance. He turns around as me and Robin laugh at his actions. “Ahoy ladies! Didn’t see you there!” He practically screams, causing me and the girl he is speaking to to jump. He places both of his hands on the counter top. “Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me?” He says with great enthusiasm. “I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.” He loses a little volume near the end.

The girls laugh, “Oh god,” I hear one mumble.

“Can I get you guys a little taste of cherry suebly?” He butchers the last word, sorbet. “No? Anybody? Banana boat?” He takes a look at all of them. “Four people, four spoons?”

Robin slowly slides away, cringing as she does so. I get up as she does so, walking behind the girls, and proceeding to the back room, Steve doesn’t seem to care.

Steve continues, “Anybody? It’s hot out there.”

Once I get through the door, I see Robin has put another tally, “O-for-eight..? He really is desperate.” I walk over to close the window. Sitting down at the table in the middle of the room after.

“Yeah. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask; what’s up with your eye?” She points to her own.

“Oh, I-” I touch the fading bruise “It’s nothing. Just some weirdo kneed me in the face.” Robin, thankfully, doesn't pry. “But- uh- anyway-” I take a deep breath, “I get the whole “girl crazy” thing, but he doesn’t seem like the type.” I rest my head on my palm, facing Robin. “I feel like everyone gets the same feeling after breaking things off with either their first relationship, or first love.”

“Really? Who's the boy that broke your heart?” She raises her brow with a sarcastic smirk. She then sits in the chair next to me, “Would love to hear about it.” She keeps her taunting tone.

“You wouldn’t know him,” I say in a similar tone to hers. “But, the feeling is like, you get so used to being in a relationship that you feel out of place when you’re not in one. Some people try to give it some time before actually doing that, to avoid a rebound. But after some time, they’re either content but still want a relationship, or just… content with being single ....”

Robin boredly hums to my rant in response.

“I hope you know I avoided going on a long ass rant, just for you.” I grin playfully.

She looks back at me, “Ah, yes, thank you for saving my ears.” I smile in place of a laugh at her reply.

“I rant a shit ton. Not even when I’m nervous, usually when I’m happy, or ‘forcing’ someone to listen to me. But I hate that I sometimes stutter, or accidentally skip a word, or even make up one in some scenarios.” I shrug.

She shakes her head with a slight smile.

[morningstar-chronicles]

do you have any agreste family headcanons for your dr?

definitely! but what kind largely depends on the DR, i think. i only have one miraculous DR listed on my pinned, but i have several kicking around in my head. so i'll just give you all of my headcanons! keep in mind i stopped watching the actual show a long time ago lmao

case #1: adrien and julian

despite adrien actually being older, julian acts older. adrien is still very much in the mindset of "i want to make my father proud!" and julian is kind of trying to act as a better role model for adrien to aspire to.

julian frequently dyes his hair loud colours and pierced his septum against parental consent (this is actually how he got the bull miraculous, which is a nose ring. master fu is the one who pierced julian's nose).

adrien wants to be a good role model for julian, and julian does want to look up to him to some extent, but their dynamic is very complicated considering how differently they feel about their father.

julian has wayyy more freedom than adrien (mostly because last time gabriel said no to something, julian pierced his septum. adrien would never).

julian models casual lineups for gabriel, and adrien models business and formal stuff. julian would have a lot more fun modelling for marinette though, since his style just doesn't match gabriel at all, and would probably completely turn on gabriel fashion as a company for one chocolate chip cookie. he absolutely fucks with marinette's ideas though- especially anything inspired by jagged stone.

despite looking like he would listen to emo or punk rock music -which he definitely does- he also hardcore vibes to taylor swift and other pop songs. once he stops doing things exclusively to piss off gabriel (i.e. once gabriel is dead) he gets into indie music and everything about him completely softens. he's a huge puppy dog.

julian gets perms. he also wears glasses (his father prefers him in contacts and makes him wear them for photoshoots).

adrien and julian are often forced to go to galas. their father doesn't attend with them. julian only goes if he can bring a friend, otherwise nathalie will have to drag a ragdoll julian into the car, and then julian lays on the floor of wherever the gala is until nathalie drags his ragdoll ass back home again. it's just a really bad look for the agrestes, honestly.

julian doesn't like felix. felix loves him like a brother. sometimes felix pretends to be adrien just so julian will tolerate him for a day. truthfully, julian doesn't like felix because he sees a lot of the things he doesn't like about himself in felix. he doesn't want to end up like that.

case #2: emilie's fertility treatments

this DR/AU stems from the popular headcanon that adrien is a sentimonster (did they make this canon??) because emilie had trouble conceiving- except instead of using dark magic, emilie just went to a fertility clinic like a normal person.

this resulted in five kids- the triplets (adrien, chase, and beau), and the twins (julian and emmy).

emilie was super excited to have all these kids, but died pretty promptly after the twins were born, so now they're all gabriel's problem.

adrien is the sweet summer child we all know him to be, and julian is of course julian.

emmy is julian's twin sister, and the only agreste girl. she's sporty and she's fun, and she's always nice to everyone. she and abby would be good friends!

chase is like adrien if adrien was kind of a dick. like, chase isn't actually rude or mean or anything, but he has sort of that energy to him where he probably would have been a bully in middle school and then grown out of it later in life. that is, if he ever went to school.

chase is a full-time model, and honestly has no interest in doing anything different. he's a nepo baby at it's finest. the only reason he would ever go to school is to make friends his age, but the condition of that would be keeping his grades up. besides, chase and chloe actually are good friends.

beau on the other hand is super interested in learning, but has no interest in making friends. he's extremely introverted and prefers to work on his own. he also doesn't go to public school.

adrien and chase are both models. beau is not. when he was little, gabriel tried to get them in triplet photoshoots and beau bit him. chase thought it was funny and considered also biting gabriel, but he actually likes all the attention he gets from modelling so he didn't.

adrien likes to braid emmy's hair. he learned to do a bunch of intricate styles so she could feel pretty even while they're not modelling.

emmy and chase model sports clothing, adrien and emmy model formal, business, and casual clothing, and again, julian models the most casual lineups.

gabriel cannot force all five kids to go, especially with no handler adult present. adrien, emmy, and chase go. sometimes julian goes just because he wants to bring me with him to impress me lmao 😭.

bonus: general headcanons, applicable to any miraculous DR

gabriel is a natural brunet. his hair is just white because he's old.

nathalie is working with gabriel because she's in love with emilie, not actually gabriel himself.

adrien views nathalie as his stepmom because he thinks she's in love with gabriel (gabriel also thinks this, but they're both wrong).

gabriel handed the butterfly miraculous down to lila because he views her as an apprentice. not quite like a daughter, because he does actively akumatize her and let her be in danger frequently, but he views adrien as a mirror of emilie and lila as a mirror of himself, and wants to be able to live vicariously through them. it's really weird and messed up.

hot take- i feel like emilie also wouldn't have been all that great of a parent. adrien is super attached to her obviously, but she would have been super fake and treated her kids more like accessories or therapists than kids. so, marginally better than gabe, but... still a pretty fucked up dynamic.

adrien has dimples, which he inherited from emilie. felix also has dimples, which he inherited from amelie. the only differences between them physically are that felix is slightly paler and adrien's hair has a slight wave to it that felix's doesn't have naturally. felix is also ever so slightly taller- only about a half-inch. only marinette and kagami can spot these differences.

this is either way more than you were expecting or not what you were looking for, but i had fun writing it!