#Limelight burns

[a-day-in-the-limelight-challenge]

Francis Marion Burns

Likes: Margaret Dislikes: Carrots

Consider putting a spotlight on Frank Burns for Week 1 of A Day in the Limelight Challenge!

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[serethereal]

i refuse to die simply because i don’t want my death to be a plot point in somebody else’s life

[jesuistrestriste]

I also had this idea about dilf era art having his sex tape(s) leaked.. or leaking them on purpose because his career is falling off.

The Christian moms would be clutching their pearls when they hear about THE art donaldson getting his back blown out 💀

His tennis career might be over but maybe he's got a new one with his pretty younger gf and her massive strap

ufff angel ! !

it’s a massive scandal when it leaks on twitter from an anonymous account.

the start of the video is actually pretty tame; and you’d never expect the man in the video to be the wimbledon-winning art donaldson. the first few minutes show a fit, naked man sitting on the edge of a bed with a girl in his lap. his hands on her hips, his cock bobbing in the little space left between them. she’s wearing a lacy black lingerie set, and even though you can’t see their faces—the framing cuts off their heads—you can tell from the wet, depraved noises alone that they’re aggressively making out.

the sloppy kissing turns into the two individuals getting handsy. he reaches up to squeeze her tits over the fabric, and her hands seem to move up behind his neck to tug on the back of his hair. a flash of blond locks can be seen. that’s the first hint of his identity. he moans when she pulls, his abdomen tensing and his length dribbling a sticky glob of arousal from his tip. in the next instant, one of her hands reaches down and starts to palm his tip. he jolts forward and whines, letting out an anguished “hnnghh” as she starts to stroke him.

his breathing gets quicker, the pale skin of his chest growing more and more pink by the second, before his fingers appear to dig into her body and he tenses up. her hand pulls away, effectively edging him. he shudders and wraps his arms around her lower back, pulling her further into his body. “pleasepleaseplease..” he can be heard whispering to begging her.

the tape cuts to black for only a moment before—

…wow.

she’s now got him bent over onto all-fours on the bed, his ass facing her pelvis while she lines up a thick pink dildo that’s attached to a harness she hadn’t been wearing before. his head is still lifted just enough to keep his eyes out of the video, but his jaw and lips and the tip of his nose can be seen. his mouth is hung open in a desperate ‘o’ while he feels her strap prod and begin to push in. it slides into him with little resistance, and she can be heard cooing down to the man below.

“thaaat’s it, baby.. good job.. guess we prepped you enough, huh?”

it’s teasing yet authoritative in nature, and the man just lets out an anguished groan of pure unfiltered pleasure as she positions her hands at his hips and starts to earnestly fuck into him. each roll of her pelvis elicits a sharp moan and whimper, and anyone watching can clearly see his cock drooling onto the sheets helplessly.

suddenly, after only a couple of minutes of this, the woman hikes her leg up onto the bed, bending it at the knee to gain better leverage on the side farthest from the camera, and pushes her hand down into the space between his shoulder blades.

he lets out a surprised whimper, keens, and then falls face-down into the bedding.

and in that moment in the video, every single person watching finally realized who he was.

all of his features are now totally visible. every single one.

art’s face is burning; his eyes rolling back into his head while his brows pinch up in ecstasy. his cheek is pressing into the mattress, his ass still up to meet her movements. he grips the white bedding under his palms and then bites his lip, “ohhh, fuck,” he whines, almost girlish, “fuck me harder, i’m gonna come, baby— ah-haah— i’m so close right now-!”

he’s making noises like a total pornstar; someone fit for the limelight and the mess of it all.

the woman, who can now be assumed to be his (controversially) younger girlfriend, complies with his begging with no more than a low chuckle. she bucks into him faster, and art yelps.

she raises her right hand and brings it down over his ass in a playful slap before she squeezes the flesh. his entire frame jolts and then he squeezes his eyes shut, his back perfectly arched, “.. im gonna come, can i— mgnh- touch myself? can you-or, i c— AH!”

the tennis player’s words get cut off when the girl leans over his back and wraps her hand around his sticky dick hanging heavily between his thighs. she pumps him quickly in time with her thrusts and it takes no more than twenty seconds before he’s trembling all over. and god, it’s a sight to behold.

“i’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come, baby, im gonna come! i’m—“

a strangled curse flies past his lips before he’s squealing and gushing milky strings of his release over her fingers and onto the bed. moans of pleasure turn into sobs of overstimulation as she milks him in her grasp, strong shots of his orgasm blending into pathetic dribbles of whatever’s left inside his balls.

he collapses under her, her strap still filling him, and she tenderly strokes his shaking back with her left hand. art’s gasping for air like he’s been deprived of it for a moment too long, and some of his hair is sticking to his forehead. his eyes open slightly, albeit lidded, and he moans out a slurred “thank you” before the video cuts to an end.

the uproar in its wake is insane.

he’s all over celebrity gossip magazines, and being talked about in raunchy podcasts, and exploited in deep-dive youtube videos. everything. it’s everywhere.

people were talking about him now who hadn’t even thought about him in years.

he was the talk of the town, really.

.. so art doesn’t even feel guilty that he was the one who clicked ‘post’.

[actuallysaiyan]

Can I please get #9 with Aizawa? 😫😫😫 I love you!

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, vaginal fingering, rough kissing

Dating Eraser Head proved to be interesting most times. He wasn’t one to spend much time in the limelight. In fact, it was always the opposite. He kept himself hidden from the public eye whenever he was able to.

And especially when it comes to matters about you. He kept that very private. So that meant barely any PDA. He didn’t want anyone to find out. And it wasn’t because he was embarrassed or ashamed. It was because he knew what the press and society and the world would do if they found out about your relationship. They’d never shut up. All the cameras and all the questions, it just made him feel so gross about the situation.

So things were always kept private, until one day…

He doesn’t even understand why he’s feeling this way. Shota Aizawa has pretty good self-control, but today you are looking just a little too damn cute. Having you work with him as a teacher at UA sometimes makes it harder for him to keep you at arms length in terms of hiding the relationship.

It’s just after school when he’s grading papers that it hits him even harder. He’s been having to see you in that damn cute dress all day and it drives him up a wall. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose; you’ve always loved to dress nicely. But fuck, did you have to give him an almost hard-on every time you pass by?

You knock on the door, smiling when you see him so hard at work. The minute he looks up at you, he’s done for. The man gets up from his chair, and then he grabs you lightly by the wrist to pull you into the teacher’s lounge. He closes and locks the door, pinning you to it so he can kiss you roughly.

“Wearing that fucking cute dress all god damn day,” he grunts as he nips at your bottom lip. He guides your hand to his crotch. “Do you fucking feel that? Feel how hard you got me.”

You squeeze teasingly, and Shota growls. He hikes your dress up over your hips and his long fingers begin to tease your pussy through your panties. He’s had enough of this. He’s going to have you at his mercy now. Your head falls back against the door as he slowly circles your clit with precision.

“Awhhh, how cute. Have I rendered you speechless?” 

You let out a cute mewl when he kisses your neck, followed by a loud moan when he bites down and sucks on the tender flesh. His fingers continue to press and rub on your swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your underwear. He chuckles at the way you’re moaning for him.

“You’re just trouble,” he breathes into your ear. “Causing problems for me all day in that cute little dress and those stockings. You wanted me to notice you, didn’t you?”

Your cheeks burn at his word, your tongue feeling tied. Shota has this very effect on you. He just knows exactly how to press your buttons to keep you on your toes. He smirks when he looks at your cute reaction. Then he pushes your panties to the side, sliding two of his fingers into your wet pussy. You let out a very loud cry, making him kiss you hungrily.

“Shhh! You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

You shake your head, but you’re just a trembling mess now as he pumps his fingers into you, hitting your sweet spot. Aizawa smirks at the way he’s rendered you absolutely weak.

“Better keep yourself quiet,” he grunts as his nips at your earlobe. “Or else I’ll have to make you grade those papers.”

dividers: @adornedwithlight

[azullumi]

"it's you hiding in limelight" ; aventurine

requested by anon — “can you do or already done pre-relationship aventurine headcanons? like what is he like before and how he warms up” premise — it takes a lot for him to trust someone. it’s a gentle and steady process; the fire burns slowly between you and him, and despite the uncertainty whether the flame is going to burn out or consume him in the end, he lets the warmth seep through the cracks of his soul. content tags and warnings — pairing: gender-neutral reader w/ aventurine | pre-relationship, fluff, a little word vomit, not proofread | wc: 0.7k ; headcanons

note from me — i was so conflicted while writing this,, and it doesn't help that i'm trying to figure out if my cat is pregnant or just fat...

It’s not easy to make AVENTURINE warm up.

He doesn’t trust anyone easily, seeing relationships as superficial, as something that is simply a give-and-take thing, a bet, a deal. He has quite a one-way view on relationships, only seeing it as something that would be beneficial to him—it’s not like he knows how to maintain such relationships either. He thinks that showering them with gifts, no matter how expensive, would make them stay, a key to securing loyalty and affection.

So when he finds himself slowly being drawn to you, being at ease whenever you’re around, as he initiates small talks and silly bets, he wouldn’t know how to break it down from there. You’re just so warm and easy to talk to, it’s comforting (like a gentle breeze). He simply keeps everyone at arm’s length, maintaining a careful distance, and yet, like a living paradox, he can feel intimately close at times to you—it’s his subtle flirting, consistent compliments, and often lingering touches.

He is hesitant in all of his bones, hard to grasp, complex and distant, but if you reach even for a little, he’ll let you hold him in your hands. He’s confusing; the thread of his words and actions are intertwined with each other but you can never find the meaning of it. It’s a heavy needlepoint of embroidery that can never be finished, a small part missing from the piece and you could never figure out what it is that you’re lacking. It’s not easy to tell if he sees you only as a friend or something more than that.

You need to be patient and persistent with him, understanding that he himself struggles with the idea of vulnerability; he fears that opening up to pain and disappointment, leaving him on his own in the end. However, over time, he eventually lowers his guard and allows himself to trust you, finding solace in your presence. When the two of you first met, his shoulders were always tense and he kept his emotions guarded behind a mask, but now, he lets go of what he carries even if it’s just for a bit, as long as it’s you he is with.

You can feel the distance closing in, the fine-drawn line of vulnerability and wariness seaming into one. You can almost touch the vanishing point between you and him, intertwining with each other, and you don’t fail to recognize the subtle shift in his actions, in his gestures, in everything about him and all that you knew.

It may be a small and mundane thing but his tendency to shower his “friends” with expensive gifts and asking to choose among which one that they would like—albeit he also does to you on some occasions—all contrasts with the simplicity of the tokens he gives you. He reserves a different kind of gesture for you, one that is laced with thoughtfulness and sincerity rather than the utter value of the gift itself.

Probably brought a bracelet one time and told you of it, but didn’t mention that it has a pair, a matching one, which he bought for himself (and never wore). He has it hidden in his drawers, amidst his precious items, only to take out from time to time to stare at it. It’s a secret he’ll forever take to his grave.

Your constant reassurance, gentleness, and kindness breaks down his defenses, the mask crumbling into unrecognizable pieces. He didn’t think he would trust someone this much, nor would he ever harbor such soft feelings—velveted affections, sweet sounds of laughter, benign words that buries itself in his chest, finding solitude in one another’s presence, basking in the warmth of it all.

Oh, to have someone see him beyond the walls he built, it scares him in some way—when you have forever listened to the chorus of condemns orchestrated by your mind, you’ll only think that you’re unlovable to anyone, that’s how it was for him, and yet to you, it comes easy as if he’s simply tangled threads that only needs to be unraveled carefully and gently. He didn’t know nor did he ever think that you'd see stars on his scars when he laid himself bare for you to see the marks that dusted his skin.

Aventurine feels like he could drown in the feeling. It’s a gentle tide that crawls to the shore and drags him along with the warm currents (the smell of blood is replaced with the taste of salt on his lips); a tender fire that burns slowly, and despite the uncertainty whether the flame is going to burn out or consume him, he’ll let the light in.

GRAH DRUM ROLLS PLEASE IM ANNOUNCING THE PRESENCE OF THE OUTSTANDING AND AMAZING FELI @dr-felitas (sometimes i type in your old user and wonder why it's not popping out and then i just go oh!) anyways, this is for you my fellow dry-talker npc,, i honestly find it cute that we're starting to adopt each other's mannerisms or texting language or pattern cause like i only started saying "right!?" (when i agree on something) because of you (back then i only say real or just nothing at all :D) and i think i began to use some of your vocabulary 😭. and somehow my ability to understand and read through typos are getting better all thanks to you 🔥🔥🔥 the world will end first before you even get to spell that word properly jkjk i love you with all of your typos, incoherent words, stupid autocorrect mwamwamwa (i say as if im im not the same) !! anyways you are a light in my life and you're one of the reasons why i still continue to pick up the pen and write !! you've been of great help and inspiration in my writings <33 without you, i probably wouldn't be able to get through the hell hole of last month, thank you. ily lots mwaa !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[irrevocableloves]

gold rush

cedric diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader

taylor swift series: part one

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ masterlist ��� ⊹

summary: everybody wants him, everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, but he loves you. (inspired by taylor swift’s gold rush!!!)

warnings: lil bit of angst, self-pity, mentions of alcohol, FLUFF <3

words: 1.8k

what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

cedric diggory. the prefect of hufflepuff. the captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team. your best friend. but that was all he was... a friend.

the secret you bore that you had fallen in love with him along the way of your friendship had burned a hole into your heart, believing that deep down that he was never destined to fall for you.

sure, you'd hoped things would slowly work out in your favor. but in your eyes, it didn't seem very likely.

but to (almost) everyone else, his eyes were only on you.

everyone knew from the moment you and cedric were seen running around the halls together on the first day you were both sorted into hufflepuff that the two of you were completely enamored with one another. it could be seen in many other ways throughout the years.

cedric was a gentleman to everyone of course, but to you? he was an absolute angel. the way he'd listen to every word you had to say even if it was the most ridiculous, hold your books for you in between classes, skip his classes and take care of you if you were sick, just the way he looked at you… you swore the glint in his eyes had felt so much different. but you’d also considered that you’ve just gone completely mad…

you noticed his gestures of course, but you thought that was just cedric's nature. he was a hufflepuff wasn't he? well, he was practically the face of hufflepuff. at hogwarts, mostly everyone wasn't 100% of their house, but you were convinced cedric was the only true hufflepuff.

the girls hoarding around cedric never helped, but you never noticed the way he acted around them. uncomfortable. and not so much entertaining them, but more-so feeling guilty for them (and also because he's a a major pushover). 

with the tri-wizard competition and with cedric as a champion, the crowds piled around him. not just girls, but hufflepuffs who wanted to bash around in his glory.

you missed him. you didn't even want him to put his name in the stupid goblet to begin with, but you couldn’t bare the look of disappointment on his face when you didn’t approve of it. he thought the world of you. he wanted to do this for you, to prove that he could finally make the house you shared worthy of the limelight, to make him worth of you…. but you didn’t know that yet.

but now, every chance you had to spend with him was always ruined by the crowds stealing him away. everyday for a week since then he’d been pulled away from you. his usual spot next to you in the great hall remained empty and no one else had come to claim it, your friends knowing it was his spot. well other people tried… like when ernie didn’t make it time to be cedric’s little side-kick, he’d try to squeeze himself in beside you, but everyone hollered him off when you didn’t have the heart to.

you’d seen cedric make the effort. every single time he did, but he would be pulled away by his growing posse. sometimes you’d just wish you were able to scream, yell, or even simply ask him to stay loud enough to be heard over the boys and their banter, but alas, it never worked in your favor. you also wished that he would tell his friends that he wanted to stay back and just have at least one second with you. just one conversation. but every time he managed to get out a word of retort, his cheeks had gone so red and his voice in a fit of stutters that he’d just let his growing group lead him elsewhere.

you noticed the girls. of course you did. how could you not?

it’s not like girls had never craved the attention of cedric diggory, but after his name shot out of goblet of fire, it’d almost been too much for you.

the girls, especially those from beauxbatons, stared and erupted giggles every time he’d passed by and sent glares at you whenever he’d try and stop to talk to you, but those were always quickly interrupted by his herd of new friends. even anthony, his bestest friend, had grown tired of the crowds and relinquished back to his normal spot the great hall, matching your sighs whenever you’d hear the crowd boast over him.

one night, when you had just managed to finish hours worth of work on a history of magic paper, once you were satisfied, you let yourself bury into the covers of your bed. it was a friday night and there was a party in the hufflepuff common room to celebrate cedric once again, but you were exhausted. you’d purposefully planned to be cooped up in your room all night while the rest of your school mates partied away. no one would miss me surely.

knock knock.

you were tempted to just lay there, pretend you were asleep in hopes they would leave you to your solitude, but the fits of knocks didn’t stop and they soon turned to mutters that would make your heart almost stop completely.

“y/n? y/n/n? you awake?” cedric. even in his slightly drunken state, he was soft-spoken, only gently knocking and whispering in case you hadn’t been awake.

any other time, you would’ve gotten up immediately. but after this week, you were hesitant. it wasn’t his fault. really, it wasn’t. you couldn’t help the built up insecurities and the fact that cedric didn’t have time for you anymore. he always did before, but this time, there was just too much in the way, too many people watching his every move and wanting every bit of attention just as you did.

just as you were sure he’d left, you heard a soft huff and an odd noise hitting your door.

when you finally made your way to open the door, you slid it open gently, seeing cedric leaning up against it, sliding alongside it while you cracked it open.

you gasped at the site, grabbing cedric’s hand with the two of yours and hauling him up. “ced?” you grunted, struggling as you pulled him. “why are you here?”

“wanted to see you.” his cheeks were flushed red. he’d been drinking. not quite a lot. you knew when he’d gotten to his breaking point. right now, he’d only had a couple shots in fire whiskey him, otherwise he would’ve been completely knocked out and unintelligible. “why didn’t you come down?”

his speech was hardly slurred, he just seemed really tired.

“um…” the paper excuse sounded lame. were you really holing yourself up in your dorm all because a boy hadn’t given you his undivided attention? that excuse would never hear the light of day, but even then, you knew it was pathetic. “was tired…” now that was even more pathetic.

you sat over on your four poster bed and he followed in suit, but instead of sitting, he fiddled with the curtains, as if he’d seemed more interested in the velvet fabric than you. no. he was distracting himself. he was just as nervous as you were.

your eyes went to his, then to your twiddling hands. a moment of silence had aired throughout your dorm. then you felt a dip on your bed.

“y/n/n ‘m sorry.” you looked up, his cheeks reaching even deeper level of pink. once your eyes met his, he was a stuttering mess. “it’s just—the tournament. i-i know you didn’t want me doing it and-and i don’t know i didn’t think i’d really get picked you know? then…” he made an explosion sound with his mouth and you struggled not to stifle up a giggle. you loved when he was so nervous that he just rambled on to no end and you didn’t dare to stop him just yet.

he continued on, “and i just got caught up in it? like i’d won a quidditch match, but times a hundred. maybe a thousand? and-and i didn’t want to disappoint anyone… even if the crowds are a lot. overwhelms me a bit… just wanted to hang out with you.” you looked up at him, debating whether to speak up yet. you didn’t.

“merlin, i feel horrible…” he got up from your bed and started pacing around your room. “you didn’t even want me to put my name in that cup to begin with, but my dad… he’d sounded so proud in his letter when i told him about it. i couldn’t let him down. but then you… i shouldn’t have put in.”

he continued on, “i just thought… that perhaps… i could make your proud. you always talk about how hufflepuff gets no recognition.”

me? but why?

“and i know that you didn’t even want me entering the stupid thing in the first place… but i didn’t wanna let you down.” he huffed, finally sitting back down, his fingers still fidgeting.

“you could never do that.” you simply said. it was true. there was nothing he could do that would ever disappoint you. it was quite infuriating.

“i feel like i-i already have.” that’s when you placed your hand on his, grasping his fingers to stop his nerves.

“it’s not your fault.” it really wasn’t. but you struggled to find the words as to why as you found as fingers playing with your own.

“it is. the crowds… i wanted to tell them to shove off, but i just didn’t wanna let anyone down. it’s stupid…” one of his hands found its way to his hair, tending to one of his nasty habits. once he nervously pulled at his hair and squinted his eyes shut, you finally found the words.

“it’s my fault too.” you said, he shook his head in defense. “no. i mean… i know how overwhelmed you get and i feel terrible for not realizing that soon enough. look at you! you’re a mess and i-i wish i could’ve been there. but the crowd and the people and i just-i just thought..” you felt even embarrassed to say it out loud. “you didn’t need me anymore.” you finally let out.

you could feel his eyes on you. that’s when he used his other hand to lift up your chin, bringing your wandering eyes up to his.

“i’ll always need you. look at where i’m at without you.” he chuckled, his cheeks flushing an even brighter red.

“yeah… drunk and crawling up the girl’s dormitory stairs.” you giggled. “how’d you even manage the counter-spell?”

his eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion on his face. “i don’t quite remember…?”

“you’re not even that drunk!”

“and how do you know that?” he challenged.

“well, first of all, you managed to make it all the way up here. and second, you’re not completely incoherent.”

“yeah…” he admitted. “party’s no fun without you. i’d much rather stay here with you.” your cheeks reddened.

“well, then stay. i’ll make you a tea.” you were surprised you didn’t make a complete mess of your words.

you swiftly got up off your bed, grabbing a mug from your shelf and then a kettle, using aguamenti and then a simple water-heating charm afterwards.

“chamomile and honey?”

a/n: anyone up for a part two???? he was a lil drunk so i didn’t feel comfortable about any confessions and kissing </3 BUT I DO HAVE IDEAS FOR MORE SOOO !!!

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mystifiedgrace @ladybirdbeetle7 @celi-xxmoon (i don’t rmr how many of u wanted to be tagged for cedric </3)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[ivesambrose]

OCTOBER 2024 MINI MESSAGES 🧡

1. 2. 3.

How is spooky season treating everyone so far? ✨

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at ivesambrose@gmail.com

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Picture 1

its likely you might feel as though you're pushed to the forefront and are in the limelight or have finally decided to be brave about it. You'll be focused on your public image, long term career goals as well as the friends you keep associating with. Do they really empower you? Stand by you? Encourage you? Or keep filling your head with their own projections that deter you from your growth. You can look forward to a better community for yourself it may not come through fully this month for some of you, but sometimes having the awareness that this is the vision and reality you see for yourself does more than half of the work for you. You'll feel inspired to travel, pursue certain goals or see the earlier roadblocks slowly clear out for you. Keep in mind not to overwork yourself or be manipulated by someone to stretch yourself thin for their sake with little to no benefit of your own. There are some people namely at a higher place of authority than you are who are scared of your success and your ability to be authentic, cultivate friendships or be a good leader by yourself and they'll try to bring you down to 'show you your place' it's far from the truth. This month might end on a note of a new and better opportunity being presented to you, a gift, a sudden increase in finances or an idea that if nurtured will lead to something a lot bigger and fruitful. Know that you're in charge of your reality not the people who are bystanders in it.

Picture 2

so much to learn and so many ideas and thoughts to communicate this month. Write them all down and share them either with a trusted person or maybe even the world. Write and speak so you can heal and undo the knots in your heart. Cry if you must it's okay to let go of the burden of keeping a brave demeanor. You'll be having potential breakthroughs this month, almost overnight ones. You're about to do something unconventional in the long run but that too will require a certain discipline from your side so it becomes a daily ritual for you and then your lifestyle. You'll be really focused on your health and health goals as well. Some of you might get into a commitment with someone or will be soon or someone wants to be romantically involved with you for the long term. They compliment your energy will, someone whose willing to water you to see you bloom. Be wary of overwhelming yourself with too much content or information. You really don't need all that. Allow your subconscious to only absorb what it is that you want in your reality. The habits you cultivate this month will set the tone for the coming months too. You'll end the month on a note of getting better at something or achieving a goal that you have spent the most of the year on and celebrating it finally.

Picture 3

Your imagination does indeed create your reality and you'll be shown proper evidence of that this month. A lot of heightened awareness, intuition, prophetic or symbolic dreams that in turn fuel your creativity. You'll be self soothing a lot this month there's also a focus on your gut health and habits as well that you'll be changing. You'll also be receiving an opportunity through your creativity to travel or learn about different cultures, people and places. I also see you feeling closer to your mother or a female/maternal figure or a friend in your life. I feel like some of you have been hyper independent for so long and have burned so many bridges that when tenderness or loving connections knock on your door you refuse to see it. Please bring your awareness and intention to finally receiving what you've long asked for. You'll be receiving the love, friendships and opportunities you have asked for, I really suggest you remove the part of you that is hell bent on being an 'avoidant' because that will lead you nowhere but to the same state that made you so low to begin with. This month ends on things gaining momentum for you, like whatever you started is progressing to the next phase, launching something or even foreign travel. Things are set in motion. You will, inevitably cut through your obstacles. Rest assured.

[reds-writings]

jealousy, jealousy!

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao

warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)

word count: around 5.8k

Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco. 

Just who the hell does he think he is?

The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.

It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.

You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now. 

Earlier in the day…

Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.

Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly. 

A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”

Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.” 

Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.” 

“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation. 

Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.” 

Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.

Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.

For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him. 

When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you. 

First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.

It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless. 

To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you. 

Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.  

After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.

Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.

Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.

You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good. 

Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”

 His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”

“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way. 

Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger. 

His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.    

On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.

“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.” 

You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.” 

“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night. 

And what a night it would be indeed. 

Night at the Blue Gator…

The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.

Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now. 

Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment. 

Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.

“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”

“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply. 

You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.” 

Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.” 

The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot. 

“I can dance with just about anybody.”

“That’s been made clear.”

“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”

“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.

“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm. 

“That ain’t-”

“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”

 Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,

“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’  stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist. 

“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,

“Oh come off it, Dex-”

“It’s Rex.”

“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest. 

“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”

“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.   

Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out. 

The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.

“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.

No answer.

“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.

“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places. 

“Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“You’re drunk-”

“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"

“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed. 

Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.

After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard. 

“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.” 

He remained silent for the rest of the way.

Back to the present…

Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time. 

'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise. 

“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”

“Listen-”

“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,

“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”

A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?” 

He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.

“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.” 

The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix. 

You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking. 

The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”

But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you. 

This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.

A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?

Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did. 

It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more. 

The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else. 

Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause. 

“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.” 

With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow, 

 “If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.” 

You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”

“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.    

 “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed. 

You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.

[gumbootillustrations]

UGH I FUCKING FINALLY FINISHED THIS

so yeah, have the divine warriors of the second war of the magi!!

more deets n closeups under the cut :3

aph!! i like to think that although the incarnations of the divine warriors r generally pretty similar, they do have some minor differences. for example, whereas the matron of the first war of the magi (irene) had one of the sets of wings on her head covering her eyes, the matron of the second war (mcd!aphmau) has both of them held back. this is bc whereas irene had lost her humanity (and therefore the ability to connect with mortals), aph hasn't - and, therefore, her eyes are open to the struggles of humanity. additionally, i took a lot of inspiration from honkai impact 3rd for these designs - in aph's case, i was inspired by elysia's herrscher of human: ego battlesuit and how it looks like a wedding dress (which a lot of folks have interpreted as an expression of her love for humanity, which is smth i want to convey w aph).

i think my favourite part of aaron's destroyer form is his seal (the thingy behind his head like a halo). i wanted to rlly play into the whole destroyer/devourer aspect of his abilities and domains, and i thought a black hole would fit perfectly! it also sort of (unintentionally) plays into how i see the dynamic between the matron and the destroyer and how they're both mirrors of each other; whereas the destroyer, well, destroys (and his black hole devours everything in sight), the matron creates and nurtures (seen in how aph's seal is almost like a white hole). i also wanted his armour to look a lot like the armour that shadow knights wear, albeit without all the spikes and spines and whatnot given that he isn't a shadow knight himself (shad's destroyer form from the first war probably looks a lot more similar to traditional shadow knight armour).

i'm lowkey suuper proud of how travis's keeper form turned out (even if i had to go back right at the end n fix it bc i forgot to add his tail 😭). i wanted this form to sort of be a mix between a high mage and a rogue: whereas the keeper embodies knowledge and magick, travis himself is a prankster who relies on cunning and trickery to gain the upper hand on his opponents. as a result, he's the only one who doesn't automatically manifest a weapon when he shifts into this form - instead, i feel like he chooses to rely more on magicks and witchcraft during combat.

katelyn's design was lowkey the hardest to pin down. originally, i wanted to go for something that was suuuper inspired by roman armour and had a copper and teal/turquoise colour scheme, but it wound up feeling too magical girl-ish and i scrapped it. i've retained the roman inspirations, but i headcanon that her flames are so hot they burn blue, so i settled on a blue-and-white colour scheme w some purple elements. i think my favourite part is her gauntlets! i feel like she uses them as an extension of herself/another pair of hands to punch with. the blue elements also lean into menphia's association with the moon - in ashes, ashes, tu'la is based on the roman empire and, as a result, is where werewolves originate from, and with werewolves having such close ties to the moon.... yeah. i'll probably do a post on tu'la later on at some point.

my blorbo

garroth's design is probably the one that's changed the least, but i'll still need to update his ref sheet anyway. i don't know if i conveyed it very well but the sort-of wing-things on his back are slabs of earth that can be shaped into a shield - originally i had him holding a shield but i wanted him to look a bit more divine warrior-ish so i retooled his design.

the boy! i was tossing up between having vylad or dante fill the role of the wanderer, but i settled on dante as i feel like vylad fits better as a sort of weird guide sort of figure within the narrative. plus, i have a real soft spot for dante and wanted him to remain in the limelight a little bit - i love his dynamic with garroth and laurance and i wanted to explore that further. i sort of wanted to play into his whole red-and-blue colour scheme that we see in canon diaries, but bc kul'zak is a nature deity (specifically of the wilderness), i wanted to incorporate some greenery into his design. i hope i've done an okay-ish job here - overall i'm pretty happy tho, but i can't promise that there won't be any tweaks in the future.

this is a redhead laurance propaganda spreading blog and i Refuse to apologise for it. i'd like to think that laurance's original colour scheme is similar to his justiciar form - lots of beautiful reds and golds and oranges to match the flames of his father's forge - but after he comes back from the nether with a Severe fear of fire he switches to the greens and browns that he's known for in canon. eventually he slowly begins to reclaim his fire and returns to the golds and oranges that he's introduced with (haha colour symbolism go brrrrrr).

but yeah. the special interest is special interesting. let me know if u have any questions!

[leah-lover]

Royal support final part.

Jenni Hermoso x Alexia putellas x royal!reader.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

You could cut the tension out with a knife. With the future of our relationship at stake neither one of us dared to talk about it. 

“ How about we eat something first. Are you hungry?” asked Jenni with the sweetest expression on her face. 

You wiped your tears away by the back of your hand and noded in agreement. 

“ What do you say to a grilled cheese and smoothie?” Asked Alexia while her hand caressed your cheek. 

“ Only if I get to watch you two make it for me.” 

“ Of course princess.” 

The tree of you headed to the kitchen where you sat on a stool near the counter and watched as your girls made and plated your snacks.

“ Careful it's hot.” Warned Jenni but it wasn't fast enough. You had already burned your tongue slightly. You fake cried which led Alexia to come to your side and blow on your tongue to alleviate the pain. You took her lips in for a searing kiss like you did earlier in the night. 

“ You can't leave the royal family. It's everything you have ever known. We can't have our relationship weighted by such a heavy burden.” Said Jenni from the other side of the counter 

“ I know how much you guys love football so I can't ask you to leave that either.” you add. 

The air was filled with sadness. Neither one of you dared to speak of the third option. 

“ I can't imagine my life without the ability to taste you again. I love you carino.” Added Alexia with a look of sadness you have never seen before. 

You thought to yourself for a moment. What could you possibly do to contain this relationship? You have a duty  to  your country and to  your people. You are the heir to the throne. You are required to have heirs and uphold the status quo the family kept for so many years. You are required to rule and be present. You can't keep sneaking from the palace to see your lovers who are now prominent public figures. 

“ Five years.” You say. “ Five years is the amount of time left in your careers right?” 

They both nod in confusion.

“ We prioritize our professional lives for 5 years. And once you two retire and escape the limelight and craziness of fans, you live near the place, become friends of the crown, we can live, travel together, have lunches and dinners without anybody suspecting a thing. Just two women who have been long term friends with the queen hanging out with her. You would have fulfilled your dream career and I wouldn't make a big sacrifice.” 

They both look at you puzzled. You can't understand their expression or what is going on in their mind. 

“ But If you are the queen you need to marry and have children.” Said Jenni. 

“ I will sort that out, a marriage for appearances. We would only sleep together to have one baby.” 

Alexia suddenly turned very possessive. 

“ You are mine.” She said, 

“ I am yours and Jenni's and nothing is going to change that. I will only sleep with you and come on your terms.”

“ Will we see each other in these five years?” 

“ Yes but not as often as we do now. Just think about it please?” 

Each one of you spaced out in their own world and not another word is spoken for a long time. 

—-------------

Seven years later. 

“ Her Majesty the queen has announced that she is now on holiday when she spoke to the media on her last appearance at the butterfly foundation this afternoon. She has stated that  after 2 years of being queen of Spain a holiday is in order so that she can be present with her husband and her  5 years old son Alexis.” Said the article given to  your secretary which You just approved. 

You then leave your office. 

“ Ale, come on we need to go.” You semi yell to get your child’s attention. 

Once he joines you, you make your way to the car where Antonio is waiting for you. 

“ king fredric is already in the albeniz palace your highness.” said Antonio. 

“ Good, take me to my lovers then.” 

La mareta was a mansion far away from the palace and it was where your girlfriends were waiting for you. The 2 time world cup champion, 5 time ballon d’or winner Alexia putellas turned Alexia putellas Hermoso after she married her teammates and long time partner Jenni Hermoso who has now turned Jenni putellas Hermoso 5 years ago., was at near the pool with a laptop on her lap writing her long time awaited book when you entered the mansion. 

“ amor I am home.” You announced as you made your way inside the house. Your son ran to find Alexia while you spotted Jenni and ran towards her too. You locked her lips with yours as soon as you got to her, her hands were on hips while yours were on her shoulders. “ I missed you amor.” You say when you broke off the kiss. “ You won't feel like that ever again “ she responded before kissing you again. 

Your kiss was interrupted by sounds of laughter coming from the pool so you two went to check it out only to find Alexis in the water with a fully clothes Alexia. 

“ Mama, I didint mean to push mummy in the pool.” Pleded your son. 

You were surprised when Jenni pushed you too and jumped in herself. And in a  pool of laughter you greeted your other lover with a kiss. 

“ Welcome home.” She said when you two separated. 

She was indeed true because from that point on you found a sense of stability in your relationship. Your son grew up and when he was old enough you step down from your duties making him king while you lived the rest of you days at la mareta with your wives. 

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven Ch 2

Hello, Lovely people! I plan to expand the timeline for The Dance of the Dragons by adding more. This will provide insight into Benjicot's thoughts from the previous chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Keep up with the story: masterlist

He was gone; Davos, his brave twin, was gone. The stupid Brackens disrespected his brother and their land, and, in turn, his brother and father were lost. Davos was always the more outspoken and confident twin. Benjicot knew people thought he wasn’t fit to be Lord of House Blackwood. He seemed inclined to agree, but not for the reason others believed in. He was more reserved and quiet compared to Davos, the loud one. 

Benjicot was meant to be his brother's sworn protector. He thrived being out of the limelight and quietly doing his duty as a soldier willing to die for his brother, which he couldn’t even seem to do correctly. His job was to protect his lord, which he failed. Both his father and brother were dead, and it was all his fault. 

“My Lord…” echoed slowly louder and louder until Benjicot broke out of his guilt to his council member. 

The weary old council member looked tired from all the stress of the day, “My lord, we have finished moving the bodies to the great hall. We will begin the preparations for burials soon.” 

Benjicot nodded while following the older gentleman to the hall and seeing the masses of lost Blackwood members being mourned. In the very front lay both his father and twin. Davos was bloodied but wearing a final smirk on his face, which Benji thought was meant to be. If people needed to see Davos one last time, let it be his famous smirk he wore proudly as heir.  

Benji was worn out from the day’s events; he knew if it weren’t for how much he wept earlier in the field, he would still be crying like a babe. He had never wept this much before, not even when their mother passed. It felt like a knife was gouged in his chest, and he knew the reason was that his twin, his other half, was brutally taken from him, leaving him and his aunt to piece their house together. Speaking of his aunt, she also looked tired as she walked towards him with a letter that was brought from a raven. Where the raven came from, he cared not… not when he was too busy mourning and trying but failing to step up as the new lord of Raventree Hall. 

“Benji, news of the Battle of Burning Mill reached Dragonstone and Queen Rheanyra…” croaked his aunt, her voice raspy from yelling all day trying to keep the peace.

 As she continued, Benji was only half listening, which he knew should feel bad, but he couldn’t seem to care. His guilt was sneaking back onto him, but he was abruptly shaken once he heard his aunt say Princess and Dragon. 

“Wait, Dragon? What dragon?” he questioned his aunt and then lowered his gaze once his aunt glared at him for proving that he wasn’t listening to her earlier. 

Alysanne knew better than to hold it against her nephew, but dragons were coming, and they needed to do everything they could to best prepare for the Crown Princess's arrival the next day. 

“Queen Rhaenyra wants to express her condolences and gratitude by sending food and medical supplies with her daughter Princess Aemma on top of the princess’ dragon Sliverwing.  We must ensure our home accommodates a princess and her dragon.” Alysanne, weary, explained to her nephew that she had the same face as him. 

The last thing they needed was a Targaryen princess coming and demanding their attention rather than focusing on their dead. Still, they swore to the Black Faction and the royal family, so they must welcome the princess as an honored guest no matter how much they would come to dread it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Benjicot was a nervous wreck; the princess should be arriving soon, and he was trying to ease his mind but taking on task after task, funeral preparations, the princess's guest chambers, a clearing to house a dragon, storage to store all the supplies being brought. All of these seemed to pile on, and he didn’t have enough time to, as he heard a dragon's apparent dragon shrill and wings flap. He would not greet the princess. Instead, his lady aunt would take on the task while he stayed in the great hall, pretending to be busy. Rather than using all his energy to pretend to engage with a princess, he had no clue how to speak to the princess. 

Soon, the great hall doors were opened, and walked in a woman who knocked the wind out of his lungs. This woman had pale white curly hair that was pinned up in a simple braid reminiscent of those of the North. Her sunkissed skin glistened under her hair; she wore red and black riding leathers that seemed to have dragon scales on her shoulders, which hugged her body in all the right curves. But what took away his breath was her eyes and how she carried herself in the room. Her beautiful violet eyes held sorrow as she took in the great hall, not pity, but understanding. 

Benji studied her as she walked around the hall on her own, whispering condolences to the grieving families before she stopped and stared at one body, his twin Davos’s body. He stiffened before quickly but quietly walked towards her. The princess, he realized, before he paused once he saw her expression. The Princess looked on the verge of weeping while staring at his brother’s face. If he didn’t know any better, it would look like the princess was mourning her lover, but that was impossible as Davos and the princess never had the chance to meet. It confused Benji, but he heard her whisper Luke when it clicked on him. Prince Lucerys was the reason the realm started the war between greens and blacks. His uncle, Prince Aemond, killed Prince Lucerys. Looking upon Davos made the princess remember her sibling lost to a feud between two families. The princess understood him and his grief. At that point, he decided to be brave and let the princess know of his presence. 

“ Davos Blackwood, my princess.” Whispered Benji as he watched the princess jump, shaken, and then flush in embarrassment before she set her eyes on him. 

He then noticed how she subconsciously flinched when she looked at him, which he understood. He and his twin were identical to each other, so it can seem daunting to see one alive and the other dead. 

“That is Davos Blackwood… he... he was my twin brother.”  He explained and saw how the princess nodded with understanding, for she, too, had recently lost her brother. Before he could think of another sentence, the princess graced him with a small but dazzling smile as she spoke. 

“Lord Benjicot, my mother and I thank you for receiving me into your home, especially in this trying time; I wish to express sorrow for the loss of your father and twin brother.” 

Her voice was sweet, like a soft wind chime melodies that could melt even the strongest ice in the north. Benjicot himself returned a shy smile to the princess. 

“Thank you, my princess-”

“Aemma.” Stated the princess before continuing, “ You may call me Aemma, but I fear I will grow tired of hearing ‘my princess’ so much.” 

Benjicot stared at Princess Aemma for a second before noticing her certain witty charm, which made him feel more confident. He changed his smile to a smirk. 

“Very, Aemma. Thank you for your condolences. I ask you to call me Benji or Ben. It seems only fair,” he said, relishing in seeing her break into a bigger smile than before. 

There was a soothing pause as Benji, and the princess once again looked at the masses before he decided he needed to remove himself from the hall. Seeing his brother was still too much to bear. So he asked her if she would like to have a tour of the hall and castle grounds. She happily took his arm and wrapped it around as they walked away from prying eyes. Once out of the hall, Benji was greeted with a dragon’s shrill as the She-dragon seemed to glare at the young lord. He gulped as the princess laughed and ran to her dragon. 

As much as he knew better than to get close to a dragon, he was like a moth, following the light that Aemma seemed to release as she spoke High Valyrian in her soft-spoken voice to her dragon. She took his breath away for the second time. He had always heard Valyrians were considered higher to men and closer to gods. He never really believed it until now. This warrior goddess welcomed him to her and her dragon, a privilege only a few dared to indulge in. As he continued admiring her, Aemma turned to him, which made him flush, knowing she caught him staring at her. 

“Have you ever come into close contact with a dragon before?” quietly asked Aemma. 

Benjicot shook his head no, “ Never, my princes- um, Aemma.” He quickly caught himself as Aemma graced him with another laugh. He enjoyed hearing her laugh. 

“Would you like to? Come meet my Silverwing.” Aemma took hold of his hand and pulled him closer to her until her body flushed to his as she raised their intertwined hands to Sliverwing’s snout. 

 Benji’s cheeks could only grow more in heat, feeling the princess's body press onto his own. His body started to betray him, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, the princess was too busy soothing her dragon because of his presence instead of seeing the effect she was having on him.  

“Shh, Sliverwing, Lykiri , sweet one, we mustn’t scare away our host.” Whispered the princess as she guided Benjicot’s hand to rub her snout. At the same time, she was using her other hand to soothe the dragon to be calm. 

In awe of touching a dragon, Benji asked, “What does that mean… lykiri? 

Again, Aemma giggled and turned more to him, their face mere inches away. 

“ It means to be calm or calm down. I must say how impressed I am with your bravery in being so close to a dragon, my lord.”  

Benjicot, in turn, winked at the princess before teasingly replied, “Only because I have the Realm’s Pearl guiding me, and I thought we agreed to skip our titles, my princess.” 

Benji then lowered his gaze to her lips, seemingly inviting. He could lean forward and take a kiss from her if he wanted. Oh, how much his mind told him to go for it. As he was about to indulge in his thoughts, a stern and short cough snapped him out of his thoughts and made him jump away from Princess Aemma and Silverwing. Benjicot could only grow cold; there was Princess Aemma, sworn knight Ser Lorent, glaring at the young lord; Benji felt like a dead man. His saving grace, His Aunt, called to him. This gave him the perfect excuse to leave the princess, promising her to see her later at the feast.

As he walked away towards his aunt, Benji could only internally groan, seeing the smirk his lady aunt was giving him. 

“It would seem the Princess is quite fond of you, my nephew,” teased Alysanne, delighting at seeing her nephew blush brighten even more. 

Benjicot glared at his aunt as they walked to the feast hall, ensuring everything was set. 

“The Princess is just being gracious. Why would she like some lowly lord, not even a lord paramount, when she is a crown princess?” stated Benji, reminding himself that as much as he was falling for her, he had no chance with her. 

Alysanne sighed, growing tired of her nephew's self-deprecation. “ A Dragon rider does not bring a random person close to their dragon just to be nice. She likes you, nephew. You should pursue her.” 

Benji cruelly laughed, “What do I bring to her in a marriage? Is our house that rich, or high in-” 

“Benjicot Blackwood!” angrily exclaimed Alysanne. “Our house is proud and ancient; we have one of the largest armies with great warriors like you that will support her mother in the war between Black and Greens. We are just as good as any Paramount House and better than those of House Hightower and House Bracken. You, my young lord, need to see the value of your position and our house.” explained Alysanne as she angrily walked away from her nephew. 

Benji sighed, knowing what his aunt said was true. He just couldn’t fathom how someone as beautiful as Aemma could consider him a potential husband. He decided his aunt was correct. He needed to bring out his confidence, which he could easily show in the training yard; he had to be like Davos so that people would start seeing him as a strong lord of Raventree Hall.

He walked to the chambers the princess was staying in and explained to the knight that he would escort her to the feast. Ser Lorent tried to intimidate the young lord again with a glare, only to receive a smirk that one can only describe as rabid. Chuckling at the new confidence, the Queensguard nodded before walking towards the feast hall, Leaving Benji to knock on the door and patiently wait for the princess to come out. 

As Aemma came out of her chamber, leaving Benji again to admire her beauty, switching her previous braid to many intricate braids in the style of Old Valyria dragon riders. He gave her a dazzling smirk that made him know it affected her from her flushed cheeks. As they walked in the hall, Benjicot noticed the stares, especially those from his men, which made an ugly monster of jealousy creep in. Of course, these were his men; he would not hold it against them and try to enjoy the feast, stealing glances at the princess. As he was about to strick a conversation, he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning, he saw his aunt with an annoyed face and a nervous council member asking him to speak with him. 

With a sigh, the young lord walked outside and waited for the conversation to start. None spoke for a while, making the Blackwood lord grow tiresome for wasting his time when his aunt said. 

“It is your concern, council member, not mine, and I will not be the one to express them to my nephew.” 

“What concerns?” asked Benjicot as he stared at the older man. 

“My Lord, many of us are concerned about your position as lord of Raventree Hall; many are stating that since you don't have an heir, House Blackwood is vulnerable to enemies.” The elder dropped his gaze to the floor, afraid to make eye contact. 

Benji was angrily taken aback. He had just taken his position, and already, his council saw weakness in his lordship.

“I understand my position, but it is hardly weak; I am the lord of House Blackwood, and if need be, my Aunt Alysanne is my heir. I do not need to marry so soon, especially if we are to join the queen to war!” Snared the new lord at the older gentleman.  

The older man sighed in annoyance, “ Yes, since we still follow the Old gods, there is nothing wrong with having Alysanne as your heir, but your position is not secured, my lord. Should you and your lady aunt perish, we risk losing our house to those craven Brackens. Being married will ensure your future wife carries your heir to secure the future of our house.” 

This only grew Benjicot more agitated, and replied angrily, “ I will not be a bargaining chip just to secure my house’s future, and I will not marry just to have my future wife feel like a broodmare.”  

Alysanne sighed, looking at both hotheaded men, and tried to intervene, “You and the princess seem to grow close. Why don’t you discuss with her any potential ladies she may have as her or her mother’s ladies-in-waiting? Therefore, you open up the discussion of marriage without feeling too drastic or rushed. While I remain as your heir?” 

Alysanne knew better than to ask her nephew to consider marriage to the princess again; remembering their earlier conversation would only annoy her nephew more. Eventually, both men agreed and decided that the conversation was done as they walked back to the feast room. After cooling down, Benjicot’s attention was returned to the Princess as her guard called for attention. 

Princess Aemma stood, holding a paper that Benji could only assume was the Queen’s letter to his people. As she looked around the room, her violet eyes stared and made eye contact with him. Under her composed face, he could see she was nervous, so he gave a slight smirk and a nod of encouragement. Her charm will win over his people just like she did with him. 

Exhaling, she opened her mother’s letter and began to read, “My good people of Raventree Hall, I thank you for welcoming my daughter, Crown Princess Aemma, into your home. As my heart grieves for the loss of Burning Mill, I want to express my gratitude for your honor and loyalty to me as your queen. My mind is at ease knowing I have such loyal subjects, and with your help, I know we can take back my birthright from the green false king. To show my gratitude, I have sent my daughter on her dragon to bring supplies and food to help replenish House Blackwood. With her dragon, she will lead and guard the able soldiers to Harrenhall, where Prince Daemon, the Knights of the Vale, and the men of the North will eagerly await you. You all have my utmost respect and gratitude, your Queen, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm.” 

Once Aemma finished, the entire feast hall stood and applauded the princess, including Benji and his aunt. He felt immensely proud of how regal and compassionate the Queen and princess sounded.  After a while, Aemma raised her hand and asked for the hall to quiet down, seeming not to be done addressing them. Intrigued, Benji sat down again to listen closely to what she needed to say. 

“I thank those here today for coming out and supporting my queen. My heart is filled with the warm welcome I have received here at Raventree Hall. To know such fierce and loyal people are willing to fight for my mother, your queen, fills my heart with gratitude-” 

Someone in the back stood up and cheered, “To Queen Rhaenyra and Her Crown Princess, The Realm’s Pearl Aemma Velayron!”  

Benji wanted to laugh; it seemed his people, even after centuries, still had northern tendencies and attitudes that seemed to come out when they held feasts. The Princess patiently let the crowd cheer again before asking for silence and continued. 

“I thank you all for your cheers. To show my gratitude for everything, I propose, should your Lord Blackwood accept, my hand for marriage to create a strong and secure alliance between Houses Targaryen, Velaryon, and House Blackwood.” 

Everything seemed to freeze, did he- did he hear correctly? Crown Princess Aemma Velayron has asked his hand in marriage… As Benji scanned the room, he saw everyone openly in shock. As he returned his gaze to his princess, he saw her getting nervous, waiting for his reaction. After a beat or two, he finally was able to process that, indeed, he was asked to be married. He decided to grace her with a heartwarming smile as he rose to meet her. Grabbing her hands into his, he stared into her violet eyes. He could get lost in them every day. He leaned down to kiss her hands as he gave her his answer for only her to hear. 

“It would be my honor to be your husband, my dear princess,” he whispered, feeling giddy seeing her gracing a smile that he knew was meant for him alone. He promised himself to be the one person to bring that smile out of her in their future marriage.

[chrollogy]

LIMELIGHT | short series masterlist (on hiatus)

ft. miya atsumu x f!reader

synopsis: An inebriated one night stand in the City of Love with a mystery man loops you into the shackles of a chaotic scandal after finding out that he’s a professional volleyball player for the MSBY Black Jackals, and also a part of the men’s national olympic volleyball team. This wouldn’t be a huge problem if the tabloids didn’t stir up rumours about your relationship with a co-artist months prior. Now, the media thinks you’re a cheater.

With your reputation on the line as Japan’s treasured artist, you’re forced to navigate through the ropes of publicity stunts with Miya Atsumu—acting like a make-believe sugary couple under the watchful gaze of newshounds, and observant fans until the scandal dies down. It’s all strictly business until feelings get involved.

content warning: fake dating au, pop artist!reader, fluff, smut (first chap; mdni), drunken ONS, consensual s*x, messy scandal, implied alcohol use, angst, mutual pining, slow burn, strangers to lovers, requited unrequited love, miscommunication, implied cheating (falsely accused), suggestive themes + more tags tba!

CHAPTERS:

teaser. Exercise routine

i. Mystery man in Paris

ii. His name? Miya Atsumu

iii. A meeting

iv. tba

v. tba

vi. tba

want to be updated? fill in the taglist form! 37/50 slots (open)

notes: divider: cafekitsune. ehehehee a new tsumu series?? as usual, this will be a slow update so yeeee!!! hope u all enjoy this journey with me <3

—

© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my video.

[nhularin]

TUMBLR.COM!

SYNOPSIS being a writer is hard, especially when you're a hardcore stan on tumblr.com. so when the legendary niki writer disappeared out of the blue, the readers were naturally heartbroken! but! what happens when their beloved nishirikithinker got revealed as THE yn of the hot new girl group?!

PAIRING idol!niki x fem idol!reader

GENRE fluff, crack, coworkers to lovers, smau with written chapters

WARNINGS profanity, use of kys etc, slow burn, bad humor, irregular updates! not proofread

STARRING eunchae as yn!, NMIXX Sullyoon, LIMELIGHT Miu, NEWJEANS Minji, enhypen, txt, &team

DATE August 14, 2023 - ????

TAGLIST open!

open the box! P4NDORA! connect! ENHYPEN!

ZERO delulu user ONE Thank you, Minji. TWO nikiwiki THREE operation ynki! FOUR L sunghoon FIVE the date SIX double fucks

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

I hate you, too

Summary: Ruby is your acting rival as well as your sworn enemy. When you’re cast in the same movie, you struggle with the fight choreography, an area which your co-star excels at. What will you do when you have no choice but to swallow your pride and ask her for extra help?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, some adult humor, kissing, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, walked in on while changing, non-sexual knife play, clumsy!reader, publicity tweets, there was only One Trailer

Word Count: 6.6k (told you it’s a slow burn)

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction, RPF Guidelines still stand. Morally, I refuse to write smut for Ruby Cruz. That being said, I miss writing smut!! Dying to write some Kit Tanthalos smut after this, if anyone has a request feel free to send it in. That being said, Ruby is always super fun to write for, and I hope y’all enjoy! :)

———

If you never saw Ruby Cruz again, it would be too soon.

You first encountered her shortly after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting. During a meeting with your agent to discuss a contract, she entered unannounced, as if the office belonged to her.

“Hey Estelle, I’m here to pick up the ‘Mare of Easttown’ audition sides,” she stated, barely glancing in your direction.

Estelle handed her a stack of papers before introducing you. “This is Ruby Cruz, one of my regular clients. You two will likely be seeing a lot of each other.”

Ruby finally turned toward you, assessing you with her bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She gave you a curt smile, and offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Estelle’s the best; you’re gonna love her.”

You shook her hand as Estelle chuckled at the flattery, shaking her head and modestly dismissing it.

“Ruby has an audition next week for that ‘Mare of Easttown’ show… which reminds me! I think you could also be a good fit for that. We can discuss more later, but for now, let me at least get you the audition sides.”

Estelle began to gather nearby papers into a stack, stapling the corner before handing them to you. Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of acting in a show as notable as ‘Mare of Easttown.’

Ruby hummed, clucking her tongue as you flipped through the stack of papers. Glancing up at her from your seat, you could have sworn you saw her eyes squint, almost as if she now saw you as nothing more than competition.

“In that case, hope you break a leg.”

With a wave goodbye to Estelle, she left the office. You couldn’t place it at the time, but something about her tone felt… off.

The audition came and went, and it was just your luck that Ruby ended up landing the role. Of course, it became her breakout role, one that juiced up her resume and propelled her career.

Initially, it didn’t bother you that much; after all it was just one audition. However, given that you were both conventionally attractive actresses in the same age range, Estelle frequently recommended you for the same roles. You began to see her face at every single audition, and frankly, you were sick of it.

That’s not to say you lost every role to Ruby Cruz; sure she was your competition, but you both had your share of the limelight. She was Hazel Callahan in “Bottoms,” and you were Harper McCallington in “Out & Uncool.” While she was busy filming for “Willow” as Princess Kit Tanthalos, you starred as Empress Kian Thorne in a limited series entitled “Cottonwood.”

You were a tad jealous that Ruby landed a continuing series while yours was limited, so when you found out about “Willow” being abruptly canceled after one season, you couldn’t help but revel in the schadenfreude.

Despite your individual successes, you harbored a deep dislike for Ruby. Yes, she was pretty, with pale blue eyes and dark hair that offset her ivory skin, but watching her stride into every audition wearing that all-too-familiar smug smile only fueled your resentment and made your blood boil.

Several months after moving to LA, one particular audition day commenced with a morning from hell. You woke up groggy with your hair in a rats nest, and spent the majority of the morning battling with the bathroom mirror in an attempt to render yourself presentable. Once you could actually run a comb through it, a quick glance at a clock revealed you were running late. Hastily, you grabbed your resume, poured some of your roommates' leftover coffee into a travel mug, and dashed out the door in a race against time.

Curses flew out of your mouth while you sat in the infamous LA traffic, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel while your eyes darted towards the clock.

Arriving at the audition site, you parked haphazardly and rushed to the entrance, coffee sloshing against your mug with every step. Pushing open the doors, you immediately caught sight of the very person you knew you would see but secretly wished you wouldn’t.

There was Ruby, sitting in the waiting room, too focused on studying her audition material to even notice you had walked in. She wore a white blouse with floral patterns, jeans, and white converse—an undoubtedly effortless outfit that looked so good on her, it genuinely annoyed you.

Shaking your head, you tried to push aside any thoughts of Ruby and focus on the audition. As you stepped towards the sign-in table, your notorious clumsiness struck as you mis-stepped and tripped over your own foot. Fortunately, you managed to catch yourself before face-planting, but you lost control of your mug, ending up spilling coffee all over your sworn enemy.

Ruby stood up in shock, the lukewarm liquid staining her white blouse and smudging the ink on her papers. She lifted her head, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in shock. “Shit, Ruby, I’m so…”

“You did that on purpose!”

The brewing apology halted at her accusation. Indignation swelled within you, and the urge to defend yourself took over.

“Excuse me? It was an accident! Jesus!”

“You don’t think I know you don’t like me?” She spat back. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

By now, everyone else in the waiting room was watching the two of you, while the stage manager at the sign-in table desperately tried to de-escalate the situation.

You felt your face flush at the unwanted attention as you attempted to lower your voice. “Ruby, I may not be your biggest fan, but I would never do something like that on purpose.”

“Oh please, I know your type. You would do anything to land a role, even if it’s underhanded!”

“For fucks sake, Ruby!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated at this conversation. “I land roles just fine on my own. Not everything is about you!”

“You’re seriously standing here telling me that ‘not everything is about me’ when you’re the one who ruined my blouse right before an audition?!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

You and Ruby turned your heads toward the unidentified voice to see what appeared to be the director of the project standing in the doorway. He peered down at the two of you with an icy glare, while the stage manager stood next to him with her arms crossed.

A gulp involuntarily forced its way down your throat. You looked over at Ruby, who stood frozen with all the color seemingly drained from her face. Both of you waited with baited breath for the director's next move as his nostrils flared.

“Both of you. Out. Now.”

“There’s good news, and bad news.”

You and Ruby stared at Estelle from across her desk, shame and embarrassment radiating from the both of you. Last week's altercation at the audition made headlines on LA Twitter news, prompting her to call an emergency meeting to discuss next steps.

“You already know the bad news,” Estelle sighed. “Word got out about your little ‘stunt.’ As of right now, neither of you have great reputations in the Hollywood eye.”

Estelle turned to look directly at you, making you shrink in your seat. “Not many people want to work with an actor who would sabotage another actor’s audition to get a leg-up.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but immediately closed it upon seeing the look on Estelle’s face. She looked away from you, focusing her attention on Ruby next.

“And no one wants to work with a hothead who causes scenes and goes on public cursing sprees.”

Ruby squirmed under Estelle’s scrutiny, looking down at her lap to avoid eye contact.

Estelle leaned back in her chair, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “Fortunately, there is some good news.”

Your ears perked up at this, curious as to what kind of good would come out of this kind of publicity. Glancing over at Ruby, you noticed she raised her gaze while still keeping her head lowered. Estelle continued.

“Another director caught wind of the situation and contacted me immediately. Apparently, he’s been toying with this idea for a movie about two rival mafia bosses who go undercover as high school cheerleaders. He is adamant that the two of you play the leading roles.”

Shock painted your features as you attempted to process what Estelle just told you. You looked over at Ruby, who seemed just as bewildered as you.

“So, this director wants to work with two people who can’t stand each other?” She inquired.

Estelle shrugged. “I’ve been told he’s very… method. Authenticity is everything to him, no matter what the consequences. Still, people say to trust his process because he’s extremely brilliant.”

She pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to the both of you, his name in thick black font jumping out from the white background.

Calvin Cunningham. Film Director.

Calvin Cunningham turned out to be quite the character.

He was brutally honest, always saying exactly what he thought of something. He engaged with the cast and crew as if they were his best friends, but if something wasn’t up to his standards, he never hesitated to voice his dissatisfaction.

His methods were eccentric and unusual, with an unwavering commitment to authenticity. They were unorthodox, but if they proved to be effective, he couldn’t care less about the cost.

On the first day of shooting, after being given your trailer assignment, you were about to go inside when you saw something that made you stop dead in your tracks. There, hanging on the back of the trailer door, was a big gold star with two names engraved into it.

Yours… and Ruby’s.

Outraged, you turned and marched towards Calvin, only to find him already in conversation with a head of loathsome brunette locks.

“This has to be some mistake,” cried Ruby. “I can’t share a trailer with her!”

“Ditto.” You piped up, moving to stand next to your rival.

Calvin shook his head. “No mistake. You guys can’t stand each other, and I want to maintain that energy throughout filming. I figured some forced proximity could help to fuel that fire.”

“Please, Calvin. I will literally share with anyone else,” you pleaded, words falling on deaf ears as Calvin simply turned and walked away from the two of you.

Ruby turned to glare at you with shrunken pupils, and you reciprocated with a side-eye right back. As you both began your way over to your shared trailer, you couldn’t help but acknowledge: this might be the first time you and Ruby actually agreed on something.

Filming was going well, all things considered. You and Ruby spent your days on set, hashing out all your hatred towards each other in front of the camera, and then pretty much ignored each other otherwise.

Changing could be slightly awkward, given the shared trailer, but you and Ruby had an unspoken agreement to keep to yourselves. Nevertheless, the trailer was a tight space, allowing you to see everything within your peripheral vision. Despite your disdain for Ruby, you couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her tapered waist and how it contrasted against her toned stomach. Even you could appreciate how her hair became disheveled every time she lifted a clothing item over her head, prompting her to shake it out until her short tresses tumbled over her shoulder.

You chalked it up to vanity, but sometimes you swore you caught her checking you out from the corner of her eye, too.

One day, while checking your schedule for the upcoming week, you noticed a choreography rehearsal planned for the big knife fight scene towards the end of the movie. Dread immediately consumed you, settling in your stomach like a boulder reaching the bottom of a hill.

It wasn’t because you were worried about getting into a knife fight with Ruby; you knew the weapons were harmless props and posed no threat to your safety. You dreaded any kind of choreography rehearsal, as you were notoriously an uncoordinated klutz. It was like you bore a curse of delayed reaction times and two left feet—a burden that weighed on your shoulders like an anchor.

On the day of the rehearsal, you walked into the stunt room to see Ruby already there, stretching in yoga pants and a crop top that hung just below her ribcage. Calvin stood in the corner conversing with the choreographer, Lucas: an effeminate man with a muscular build that offset his short stature.

Minutes after you started stretching, Lucas blew his whistle, calling you and Ruby over to the center of the room.

“Hey guys! Hope you’re as excited as I am to do some fight choreography.” He chirped, flashing a toothy grin.

While Lucas spoke, your attention shifted to Ruby. She stood confidently, her hands resting on her hips as she listened for instructions. You rolled your eyes. Of course she was confident, she had plenty of combat training during “Willow,” and even more during “Bottoms.”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was one area where Ruby outshone you.

“In this scene,” Lucas explained, handing each of you a prop knife labeled with your characters names. “Quinn and Gia both realize they’re from rival mafia families, and draw their weapons at the regional cheer competition.”

You turned the knife over in your hand, running your thumb over the “Quinn” sticker on the handle. “Is this… a real knife?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but it’s been dulled for your safety. Don’t worry.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing your lack of coordination posed less of a threat now.

Lucas continued. “For the first part, Quinn, advance towards Gia with the knife raised, like you want to slit her throat. Gia, sidestep and dodge her attack.”

You positioned your knife and lunged at Ruby, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding after she successfully avoided the blade.

Lucas nodded in approval. “Great! Now Gia, advance towards Quinn with your weapon, and she’ll block and engage.”

Ruby lunged at you, but when you tried to block her attack, the knife slipped from your grip and fell from your hand. Your face flushed as you stared at the blade, now lying on the plush mat.

“What was that?” Calvin interrupted, still watching from the corner of the room.

Lucas shot him a sheepish grin. “It’s ok, Calvin. It’s just the first rehearsal.”

Calvin grumbled incoherently as you bent down to pick up your knife. You noticed Ruby’s lips curl into a subtle smirk at your mishap, provoking an eye-roll from you.

“Let’s try that again,” Lucas stated. “This time, Gia, why don’t you try advancing a little slower?”

Ruby nodded, and moved towards you seemingly in slow-motion. This time, you managed the block successfully and engaged your weapons without issue.

Lucas beamed in approval. “Great! Let’s move on.”

He went on with instructions, leading you through the engagement of your weapons. Despite the slow pace, you repeatedly made a fool of yourself throughout the entire rehearsal. Sweaty palms hindered your grip on the knife, and you even managed to confuse your left from your right. Calvin stood fuming in the corner, while Ruby’s initially smug demeanor gradually turned into one of annoyance.

“Alright,” Lucas started, wiping his brow and forcing a tight smile. “For this last part, Gia, focus on disarming your opponent, and then tackle her. Quinn, this should be pretty easy. All you have to do is keep yourself open and fall.”

You gulped and assumed the ‘ready’ position, locking eyes with Ruby. She advanced, carefully redirecting your blade before grabbing your shoulders to push you onto your back. Unfortunately, as you were going down, a misstep caused you to lose your footing. Your arms flailed out of instinct, and in the search for stability, you inadvertently dragged the blade across Ruby’s cheek, leaving a bright red cut in its wake.

Startled, she hissed and dropped you onto the mat, hands moving to cradle her injured cheek. “Ouch! What the hell?!”

Calvin and Lucas rushed to Ruby’s side while you stared at your freshly-bloodied knife and tried to process what had just happened. “I thought you said they were dulled!”

“Well yeah, but they’re still real knives!” Lucas exclaimed, moving Ruby’s hand to see the cut.

A stream of apologies flew from your mouth immediately, but Ruby only responded with an icy glare and Calvin mumbled something about the makeup artist before storming out of the room. A lump rose to your throat as you blinked back tears, humiliated and filled with guilt. Once again, your clumsiness managed to ruin things for the people around you.

As you got up to leave the room, you looked back and met Ruby’s gaze. This time, instead of annoyance or anger, her face held only a look of pity as she watched you walk away.

At the end of the day, after you and Ruby were no longer needed on set, you found yourself standing outside your shared trailer, hands wringing in anticipation for what you were about to do.

Despite your best efforts, you knew your struggle to grasp the fight choreography was impeding production. Ruby, on the other hand, excelled at stage combat. You needed the extra practice, and Lucas had already gone home. After several hours of contemplation, you resolved to set aside your pride and seek help from your sworn enemy.

With a deep breath, you entered the trailer. Ruby was already inside, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly in the middle of changing. You felt your cheeks flush as she spun around, revealing a neon green band-aid on her right cheek.

“Ever heard of knocking?” She spat, covering herself defensively.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s my trailer too!”

She scoffed, turning around to finish putting her shirt on. You sighed, knowing the odds were already not in your favor.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you began, prompting her to look back at you, puzzled. “Not about the trailer, but about the knife, and the coffee, and just… everything. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m not, I’m just really accident-prone, and for that I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded, silently accepting your apology. You continued, avoiding eye contact for what you were about to ask.

“Listen… I need your help.”

Your words took her by surprise. “With what?”

“Fight choreography,” you pressed. “I know we don’t really get along, and I wouldn’t ask if I had literally any other option, but you’re incredible at stage combat. Please, I could really use the practice.

“No argument there,” she snarled. “But why should I help you?”

“Because we’re co-stars, if I look good, you look good. Besides, do you really want to risk another one of those?” You gestured to the band-aid on her cheek.

Ruby touched the bandaged wound, wincing from the pain.

Defeated, she groaned. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only on two conditions.”

She stepped closer until she was inches from your face, close enough that her warm breath grazed your skin. You felt the sharp jab of her finger in your chest as she locked eyes with you.

“First, during training, you do everything I say, exactly as I say it. And second…” she moved back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “…you owe me a favor.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something,” she replied. “As of right now, we have a fight to train for.”

You followed her to the stunt room, now fully unoccupied as most of the crew had gone home. Ruby switched on the lights and made her way to the props table while you took your spot on one of the mats.

“Hmm,” she scrunched up her nose as she picked up the knives you had used to train earlier. “I really don’t trust you with a weapon right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied, pleasantly surprised at the lack of offense.

Ruby moved around the room in search of a safer substitute. She ended up at a supply cabinet, and sifted through it until she proudly held up a miniature pool noodle.

“Noodles!” She announced, grabbing one and handing you another.

“Perfect,” you exhaled, relieved.

Ruby assumed the ‘ready’ position across from you while you mirrored her stance, gripping the pool noodle as if it were your knife.

“Alright,” she started. “Why don’t we skip the exposition, since there’s no issues there. Let’s jump to the weapon engagement.”

You stepped forward, engaging with Ruby’s noodle. She nodded in approval before continuing the choreography.

“Left, right, no… right. Wait… do you not know your left from your right?”

Embarrassed, you dropped your gaze to the mat. “I do… I just… have to stop and think about it sometimes…”

Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I am totally going to give you shit about that later, but for now, let’s just work on muscle memory.”

She moved behind you, reaching around to take hold of your wrists before leaning into whisper. “Is this ok?”

A shudder traveled down your spine as her breath tickled your ear, a subtle expression you prayed she didn’t notice. “Y-yeah… you’re good.”

The way her fingertips brushed so gently against your skin felt like a million tiny shocks of electricity, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she guided your dominant hand through the movements. “Over, under, around and right.”

She repeated the sequence once more before letting go of you, stepping back to observe. “Show it to me.”

You demonstrated flawlessly, earning a beam of approval.

“Good. Let’s move on.”

From there, Ruby continued to guide you through the combat sequence in its entirety, stopping repeatedly to work out the kinks and offer helpful tips. She taught you where to hold your body weight so you didn’t stumble, and even showed you how to look like you fell on purpose, if necessary. As much as you hated the girl, you had to admit, she was a pretty good teacher.

Eventually, after hours of training, you reached the last step of the routine. Both of you were drenched in sweat and panting hard, but determined to make it to the end.

“Now…” Ruby rested her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Last but not least: the fall. So to start, I push down on your shoulders…”

She placed her hands near your collarbone and gently pushed, causing your arms to flail and smack her with the pool noodle. Immediately letting go of you, she took a step back with her hands up. You froze, expecting her to yell at you, but to your surprise she threw her head back in laughter.

“And that…” she pointed to the band-aid on her cheek “…is how this happened.”

You forced a nervous giggle in response as you stared at her hysterical disposition. Her laugh was crisp, almost melodic, like windchimes in a summer breeze. You weren’t quite sure what she found so funny; perhaps she was so tired from the long rehearsal, she collapsed into a state of hysteria.

Ruby calmed down after a minute or two, wiping away a tear as her breathing subsided. “So, I’m guessing you don’t like having your shoulders touched?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I guess it just feels constricting to have someone pushing me while I’m trying to fall safely.”

She clicked her tongue, seemingly deep in thought. “Hmm… why don’t we modify it a little bit? I could push you by your hips, let you fall, and then pin you down.”

“Can we do that?” You asked, concerned about getting into trouble again.

“Yeah, it’s not a huge change. I’m sure Lucas won’t mind. Besides, actor safety is always number one priority… and that includes my own.” She gestured to her cheek again with a lopsided smirk, prompting you to grimace apologetically.

You centered your body weight as she approached you, grasping your sides before letting her fingers wrap around your hip bones. She met your eyes, searching for approval.

“Better?” She asked.

Your voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper. “Yeah. Much better.”

“The most important thing,” she explained, “is to keep your body open.”

She moved her hands from your hips up to your arms, positioning them until they were spread out on each side, as if you were preparing for a big hug.

“When I disarm you, move your arms to the side like this. That way, you’ll have more control over a fall, and I’ll have less chance of getting cut.”

You nodded in understanding as she took a step back, preparing for the attack.

“Slow motion, ok? No rush.”

She carefully walked towards you and grabbed your hips, pushing with gentle pressure. Keeping your body open, you fell safely to the mat, back flat on the floor and arms spread out to your sides.

Ruby stood over you wearing a look of pride and satisfaction before offering out her hand to help you up from the mat.

“Wow,” she exclaimed with a breathless chuckle. “I’m a really great teacher.”

You rolled your eyes at her familiar cocky attitude. “Mhm… so, is that it?”

“Not yet. One more time, from the top. Let’s put it all together.”

“Full speed?” You asked, getting into position.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, breathing heavily as she moved to stand across from you. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

On her count, you lunged at her with your noodle before she sidestepped and dodged the attack. She reciprocated with an advance of her own, prompting you to block it and successfully engage your props.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she called out. “Over, under, around and right.”

The two of you continued sparring, each movement now pristine and polished. Droplets of sweat scattered from your skin as your props flew at lightning speed, every advance met with a clean block or countered with the appropriate attack. It was like your bodies were in perfect sync, months of built up tension finally surfacing to glide seamlessly through combat.

As you reached the end of the routine, Ruby expelled your weapon, disarming you and prompting your arms to extend. She seized your hips, fingertips pressing into your plush sides, and pushed until you could fall safely. Back now flat against the mat, she crawled on top of you, straddling your hips while planting her hands on either side of your head.

Time seemingly froze as Ruby hovered above you, keeping you trapped underneath her. Her face was close, so close that you were panting into each other's mouths. You stared up at her, noticing her bright blue eyes had turned significantly darker, and you swore, just for a split second, you saw them glance down at your lips.

“You…” she panted, breathless. “Y-you…”

Your heart pounded in your chest, flustered from the mix of adrenalines. “W-what about me?”

“You… you smell… so bad.”

With that, she immediately picked herself off of you, leaving you lying in a heap on the mat.

Annoyed and confused, you sat up to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she turned away from you and cracked her back. “We’ve been in here for awhile, and you really need a shower.”

“Look who’s talking,” you spat back. “Your hair is literally sticking to your forehead!”

She reached up, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face while mumbling something incoherent. It was like the air around you had suddenly turned thick with tension, neither of you daring to speak up for fear of saying what you were both thinking.

You decided to break the silence. “What time is it?”

Ruby glanced at her watch. “Almost 1am.”

“Shit,” you responded, not realizing it had gotten so late. “Guess we should…”

“Yeah,” she cut you off.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your things to leave for the evening. On the way out, neither of you offered a “bye” or “see you tomorrow,” but both of you turned to glance back when the other wasn’t looking.

For the remainder of the week, you and Ruby avoided each other like the plague, but not necessarily in the way you had previously. Before, there was always a palpable negative energy looming between the two of you, something Calvin could exploit for the cameras. Now, your scenes read awkwardly, both of you too preoccupied the events of the other night to properly engage in animosity.

This shift in dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew, especially Calvin, who never hesitated to hide his frustration. He desperately sought chemistry, and realized that forcing you to share a trailer wasn’t cutting it anymore. At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to reignite that spark.

One day, Calvin informed you that lunch would be served in the stunt room. It seemed odd, food being served in the industry equivalent to a trampoline park, but Calvin typically had some rationale behind his unconventional ideas, so you didn’t question it.

When lunch break rolled around, you walked into the stunt room to find it completely dark and empty, aside from Ruby, who stood in the center of the room looking confused. Upon seeing you, she froze.

“Uh… hey.” She muttered, pointing her gaze to the floor.

“Hey yourself,” you replied awkwardly. “Uhm, did Calvin tell you lunch was being served here?”

“Yeah, actually,” she furrowed her brow, glancing around the room. “But I haven’t seen any caterers or anything.”

“Weird, I wonder why he would-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a door slam, followed by the sharp click of a lock. You and Ruby stared at each other, panic-stricken on your faces before rushing to try the door handle.

“What the… hey! Let us out!” Ruby shouted, pounding on the door after the handle wouldn’t budge.

As you watched Ruby struggle against the door, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Calvin!”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby growled.

“Think about it,” you explained. “He’s been frustrated with us all week, our scenes have sucked, he lied to both of us…”

Giving up on the door, Ruby leaned against it and turned to glare at you. “You think he locked us in here on purpose?”

You shot her a knowing look. She groaned frustratedly, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the door.

“That is exactly something he would do,” she exclaimed.

“Someone’s going to sue that man one day,” you huffed.

Ruby snickered in agreement. “Why don’t we?”

“Pretty sure that would require us to actually talk to each other.”

Silence fell between the two of you, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted joke turned into you accidentally addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s not like we ever talked much before…” Ruby muttered, breaking the silence.

“That’s not true,” you argued. “We used to bicker constantly. Now we’re just… weird.”

“This whole week has been weird.” Ruby agreed.

“Why?” You pushed, squinting at her. “You helped me out with a fight scene, and now we’re like two twelve-year-olds at a middle school dance. How does that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I just…” Ruby sighed exasperatedly, and put her head in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you realized the brunette was struggling with her words. Usually, she radiated confidence, an attribute of hers that made you burn with jealousy. Now, she exuberated hesitance like you’d never seen, with her body backed up against the door and her face covered with her hands.

You took a step towards her, and spoke softly. “Ruby, you and I both know we’re not getting out of here until we start talking.”

Realizing you had a point, Ruby groaned and dropped her hands. She refused to look you in the eye, instead opting to stare at your feet while she searched for the right words.

“When we were… fighting,” she began, chewing on each word as if it were molasses. “There was a moment where… I had you pinned…”

She swallowed involuntarily at the blatant description. Your face flushed, but you nodded in an attempt to coax more out of her.

“I was looking down at you… and… I guess… I just realized… maybe I don’t… hate you… as much as I thought I did.”

The moisture drained from your mouth as her confession caught you completely off guard. Half of you had the urge to make fun of her, and the other half just wanted to grab her shoulders and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, you decided to probe on. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think I ever did,” she confessed in a half-whisper. “I never really got to know you before, I think I just… saw you as competition. I mean, you were at every audition, how could I not? I think my mind just filled in the blanks? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” You asked, moving closer and causing her breath to hitch as she was caught between you and the door.

“I think… no, I know… you don’t… hate me either?”

She apprehensively searched your features for an answer, as what was supposed to be a statement came out as more of a question. You nodded, prompting her to exhale in relief before continuing.

“I know that I don’t have to see you as competition. I know that it may have taken me a while to realize it, but the time we’ve spent together on set has been the best month of my life. I know that I hate feeling vulnerable, so if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll deny it… and then I probably actually will hate you.”

You chuckled at her joke, and she began to relax as a warm smile spread across her face. By now, you had moved close enough that your faces were mere inches from each other, and you could just barely hear her breathing over the pounding of your heartbeat.

“So… what now?” You asked, secretly hoping for one specific answer.

She glanced down at your lips, eyeing them hungrily as she hesitated. “I, uh… I think I know… what I want that favor to be.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at her sudden bold demeanor. But as you gazed at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension, you knew there was nothing in the world that could stop you from fulfilling that favor.

Grabbing her jaw, you brought her face closer and crashed your lips together. A small gasp escaped her lips at first, but she soon grasped at your sides and started to kiss back. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were rough and passionate, something you weren’t surprised at given her usual fiery personality.

Her middle finger wrapped around one of the belt loops on your jeans, giving her leverage to pull you closer to her. A quiet whimper erupted from the back of your throat, the feeling of her body pressed against yours being enough to make your knees buckle. You grabbed onto the back of her neck for support, simultaneously pulling her towards you even more and spurring moans of approval from your newfound lover.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both of you gasping to catch your breath, but neither of you letting go of the other. As you stood there, wrapped in Ruby’s embrace, you couldn’t help but survey her features. Her eyes had darkened from overwhelming desire, and her lips were pink and puffy, coated with your saliva. Her originally shiny brunette locks were now disheveled, stray hairs sticking out from the static electricity of being thrust against the door.

She was a mess, but in that moment, you swore you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A breathy chuckle left her parted lips, breaking the silence. “I, uh… I was actually just gonna ask if you knew how to pick a lock.”

Your jaw dropped in shock as you stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

She shook her head no, erupting into laughter at her own joke. You glared at her, unamused, but soon found yourself stifling a giggle. Enemies or otherwise, Ruby was always going to be a sarcastic hothead, and nothing could change that.

“Wow…” she sighed breathlessly.

“I know…” you agreed. “Guess we should thank Calvin, huh?”

Ruby began to chuckle before her eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Shit, Calvin!”

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused at her change in demeanor. “What about Calvin?”

“He casted us together because we hated each other,” she whisper-screamed, eyes darting between you and the locked door. “Everything he’s done has been to fuel the fire: forcing us to share a trailer, locking us in here! He wants us to hate each other, he doesn’t care what it takes! If he finds out about this…”

Panic washed over you as your mind swarmed with possible things Calvin would do to taint your relationship if he found out about your feelings for each other.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. “What do we do?”

Ruby pursed her lips, deep in thought as she racked her brain for ideas. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she turned to you with a wicked grin.

“We’re actors,” she replied. “We act.”

Gripping your shoulders, she walked you backwards before letting go and returning to her original position. Confusion painted your features; you didn’t know what Ruby was up to, but you were curious to find out.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” she exclaimed loudly. “In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever want to be stuck filming with!”

Her sudden shift in attitude left you puzzled and a little hurt, but you quickly understood her intentions after she shot you a sly wink.

“Oh yeah?” You retorted, playing along. “Right back atcha! In fact, if I never saw you again, it’d be too soon!”

Ruby stifled a laugh before quickly getting back into character. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

At this last remark, the sharp click of the lock sounded again, and the door swung open. Calvin stood in the doorway, a huge ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

“Welcome back, you two.”

He left the door open, and motioned for you to follow him out. You started to exit the room, but as soon as Calvin’s back was turned, Ruby grabbed your wrist and spun you around to capture your lips in hers once again.

A sharp inhale echoed against the back of your throat as she took you by surprise, but you pulled her close and kissed her back in a heartbeat. This kiss was different from the last, with the newfound excitement mixing with the terrifying prospect of being caught. The rush of adrenalines had never tasted so sweet.

Ruby pulled back with haste, immediately looking over her shoulder to make sure Calvin didn’t see. When the coast was clear, she turned back to you with half-lidded eyes.

“I hate you,” she muttered, a goofy grin spreading across her face.

You giggled, covering your mouth to suppress the sound before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I hate you, too.”

[hazbinshusk]

husk x reader. a birthday present written for the wonderful @monstrousvoice. just pure, tooth-rotting birthday fluff featuring everybody's favourite alcoholic feline bartender. hope you like it!

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“D’you think Angel will be upset that we left early?” you ask as the two of you make your way back to the Hotel. It’s just barely three a.m., and the streets are reaching their peak of sinful depravity all around you.

“If he even notices,” Husk replies with a shrug of one shoulder. A car screeches around the corner, and Husk takes hold of your wrist, tugging you over to walk on the other side of him so he’s between you and the gutter. Your skin is warm where he touches you, and you feel a brief pang of disappointment when he releases you. “He seemed pretty… distracted.”

You chuckle quietly. Angel had been enjoying the limelight at a new club opening, and with Cherri there to keep an eye on him you hadn’t felt too bad about calling it an early night.

“I gotta say, Husk, I genuinely can’t tell if you enjoyed yourself tonight or not.”

The promise of free booze thanks to Angel’s level of celebrity had warred with the loud music and large crowds for the bartender, but the former had won out.

“Not exactly my kind of fun,” he admits and you feel his wing rise quickly behind you, hear the sound of glass breaking against the dense wall of feathers that suddenly shield you from harm. He shakes away the broken glass before tucking his wing back down against his shoulder. How he’d noticed the bottle’s trajectory towards you without turning around you had no idea. “But it’s lookin’ up.”

You smile to yourself as the two of you make your way up the hill to the hotel, your shoulder bumping against his briefly. You can feel warmth swirling in your stomach at the easy proximity between the two of you and you swallow, fixing your gaze pointedly on the hotel ahead of you. Your friendship with Husk has steadily become one of the brighter points in Hell for you, and you didn’t need to jeopardize it by letting yourself indulge in whatever it is you’re feeling.

The two of you don’t speak again until you’re in the lobby, and the two of you linger there for a long few moments. You swear you feel Husk’s eyes on your face but when you look up, he glances towards the bar, rubbing his claws through the fur at the back of his neck. You cough awkwardly, jerking your head towards the stairs. “So, I… I’m gonna head up. But I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ve got somethin’ for you,” Husk blurts out as you turn away, and you stop, surprised. When you meet his eye he looks almost… embarrassed, his ears low and the bridge of his nose a soft pink. He clears his throat, making his way to the bar. “It’s, uh…”

You follow him curiously, taking a seat on your usual stool as he rounds the bar to reach beneath it. He glances back up at you in a way you could swear is shy.

“Can you, uh… jus’… shut your eyes for a minute, okay?”

You raise a brow but do as he asks, folding your hands in your lap. You can hear him fumbling around with something for a moment, a soft click, and after a few moments you feel him take the stool beside you. Without opening your eyes you turn to face him, your knee bumping against his thigh.

“Okay,” Husk’s velvet tenor says quietly, and you try to ignore the shiver that runs up your back. “You can… you can open ‘em up now.”

You do so slowly, blinking a couple of times before your eyes settle on the space on the bar between you.

A cupcake sits on a small china plate on the polished wood, topped with soft white frosting and a single burning candle. You stare at it for a few seconds in surprise before dragging your eyes back to Husk. The candlelight plays over his features, the warm light making his eyes glow.

He gives you a small, embarrassed smile. “Happy birthday, doll.”

“How did you even…?” you swallow; you can feel the beginnings of tears welling to stick in the back of your throat. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I wanted to.” he says and shrugs a shoulder as though it was a gesture that didn’t make your heart flip against your ribs. “Didn’t think your birthday should be all about someone else.”

You feel a soft smile on your lips, your eyes falling to where your hands were still twisted together in your lap. “Thank you, Husk.”

“You okay?” he asks, his own voice now barely more than a gentle rumble. With your eyes on his you feel your breathing hitch… you hadn’t realized just how close he is to you. “You’re, um… you’re blushin’.”

You nod slowly, and you see his eyes fall to your lips for a moment. Your heart flutters, and you feel yourself lean forward for a second. A brief flicker of surprise passes over his features before he moves forwards incrementally too. The moment hangs between the two of you for what feels like forever, the passing time only marked by the shadows dancing over his face and your heartbeat pounding in your chest.

And then… and then the two of you lean forward, his lips brushing softly against yours.

It’s hauntingly brief but still leaves you breathless, and you feel your inhale come shudderingly as he pulls away. He doesn’t go far, his forehead only inches away from pressing against your own.

“’s this okay?” he whispers and you nod, bringing your mouth back to his.

Husk kisses you with reverence, his lips achingly soft and his breath fanning warm across your chin when you part briefly. You reach up to touch your fingers to his cheek, carding your fingertips carefully through the soft fur. A quiet sound, almost a whimper, escapes you as you feel his hand take a gentle hold of your waist.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, doesn’t morph into something salacious, it just lingers in an embrace that sends butterflies through every part of you.

When you do finally pull away you’re breathless, and you see the warmth in your cheeks mirrored in the pink of his. His paw still rests on your waist, and you can feel it curl in the fabric covering your side as you lean over and blow out the candle on top of your cake.

[aweina]

mall security mike taking his bratty coworker, you, to build-a-bear workshop. he didn’t see you why you couldn’t just go there without him, given that it’s located in the mall and he isn’t some parental guide — mike would expect for you to not bring him along because you “hated” him, remember that? but still, you were insistent, pouting with quivering lips and glossy puppy eyes, he’s still surprised it actually worked. now, he’s idly watching you excitedly pick out a bear, rummaging through the sacks of soft fur and variety of colors.

without even trying, mike thought you were the cutest thing in the world — your lips curled into a soft smile with eyes that sparkled under a nonexistent light. your inner child shined under the limelight, it was refreshing to see, despite it being you. after waltzing around the shop, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he lazily mumbles replies towards the options you splayed in front of him — you finally name the bear.

it was covered in soft brown curls and adorned with beaded black eyes, dressed in a hoodie and small sneakers. for a split second, mike thought it looked like him, but he dismissed the notion. thoughtfully scribbling on the certificate, he swore you wrote an ‘m’ then an ‘i’ and – oh wait, now he couldn’t see what you were writing? well, whatever then.

the walk back to the security office was oddly quiet, without your usual quips and efforts to push on his buttons. mike looked at you with concern, noticing a brush of red passing along your cheeks as you gazed down — the certificate in your grasp. it was his name. you named the bear after him. from this realization, mike suddenly chokes on the coffee he was just swallowing, throat burning from the hot beverage.

he was shocked, but kept quiet. he’ll gladly take you bombarding his little coffee accident with laughter and insults in order to save him the trouble of finding out your feelings towards him. mike was too tired for all of that, especially now when half of his coffee was spilt all over him.