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theitgirlnetwork · 1 day

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Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve.

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?”

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.”

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands.

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue.

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her.

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-”

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles.

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for.

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?”

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA.

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while.

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.”

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her.

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.”

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face.

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.”

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too.

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them.

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.”

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them.

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.”

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now.

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time.

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them.

Jealousy. Longing. Needing.

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person.

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath.

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes.

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.”

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.”

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?”

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him.

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head.

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat.

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side.

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.”

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima.

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood.

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty.

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely.

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor. “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.”

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.”

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life.

The Paris Opera Ballet

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koolades-world · 2 days

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Congrats on 2k!

Could you maybe do prompt number seven with Belphie, but instead he's the one wearing MC's shirt rather than MC being the one wearing his? (I know people always assume MC's smaller than all of them, but just let me have this 😞🙏 /hj)

I mean, I don't really know what the prompt could indicate, so I thought I should clarify

thank you! yes of course i can!

since i got two asmo ones for this prompt too, i almost spun one to be asmo wearing mcs shirt, but then i saw this request! you read my mind haha

i'm glad this prompt is well liked because it's gotta be one of my favorites

not sure what my upcoming posting schedule will be either because i just downloaded wuthering waves and my man's (jiyan) banner is about to go away since i didn't start on launch. he goes away in three days. i must have him.

enjoy <3

prompt 7 w/ Belphie

Another day was finally over. It’d been fun, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t long. You had a day out with friends from breakfast, to a movie, then to someone else’s house where you spent the rest of your day hanging out. You hadn’t spent much time with them recently, and you felt as if was much needed catch up time. But, you couldn’t deny how tired you were now that the adrenaline had died down.

You were eager to get home and rest. But, the lounging clothing you’d laid out on your bed was missing. Well, half missing. The pants were exactly where’d you left them, but your shirt was nowhere to be seen. So the hunt for it began. Usually, you’d let it go but it was your last lounge shirt and considering you were currently waiting in the line to do your laundry, you didn’t have a choice.

You started in Mammon’s room. He wasn’t there, so you searched all the usual places he would hide things he snatched from you. While you were searching, he walked in on you rifling through his closet. Once you told him, he vehimently denied, but did suggest you text the group chat asking if anyone else had seen it. You thought it was a pretty good idea, but wanted to check a few more places first, in case it was in plain sight.

Next, you made your way to Levi’s room. It probably wasn’t in there, but if you wanted to ask him, you’d have to go in person. He was too busy playing his games to answer any text messages. After giving the secret knock and password, he opened the door for you. He was happy to see you and asked if you were up to play something with him tonight. However, once you informed him of your situation, he told you he hadn’t seen it, which you kind figured. Both of you knew he hadn’t left his room today. With that, you told him you would love to do something with him later, but you had to continue your search.

You decided to check one more place before you sent out the text. You knew Beel would be in his room because you’d arrived home at around the same time as you and he’d told you he’d be there after his shower. You made sure to knock, and after he opened the door, you asked if he’d seen your shirt. Unfortunately, he says he hadn’t and asked if he could help in any way. You thanked him for his kind offer, and just asked him to keep an eye out for it. With that information, you left and went back to your room.

Since it was your last resort, you sent a message to the group chat, simply asking if anyone had seen it. Everyone reponsed pretty quickly, save for Levi and Belphie. You’d already talked with Levi, and you knew he hadn’t seen it. Belphie, however, you hadn’t seen. He must’ve been asleep somewhere. Not in his own bed, at least. Since you didn’t have anything to wear, you decided to get something small to eat while you mulled over what to do. You could always borrow something from one of the brothers, but you were a little afraid you’d start a war if the other brothers found out you picked someone else. But, you weren’t about to wear any of your any day clothes to bed.

As you grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry and settled in a seat at the kitchen island to think about your next move, Belphie walked in. He had his cow pillow as usual and a blanket that had been a gift from his twin draped around his shoulders. “Mc. You’re back.” He sat next to you and set his head on your shoulder.

“Hey, Belphie. How was your day?” He looked very comfortable, and the way he dragged himself to your side basically answered the question.

“I had a great nap outside today. Beel went out for a hike and carried me on his back. We spent some time at the top of nice hill in some shade. It was great,” he sleepily recalled.

“Glad to hear you had a good day. My day wasn’t nearly as relaxed, but I still enjoyed it.” You unclipped the bag of chips and began munching.

“I was just about to ask how that went.” He looked intrigued at what you were eating, so you turned the bag around so he could see the label.

“Yeah, it was super fun. I won’t like though, I’m tired and I’m not even sure I can stay awake for dinner.” Belphie reached around you to grab a chip. When he did so though, you got a better glimpse at what he was wearing. He had on some slouchy, comfy looking pajama pants, and an awfully familiar shirt. Just the one you’d been searching for. “Belphie, is that my shirt?” You struggled to contain your giggles. You couldn’t believe he’d just had it all along.

“It’s very soft. And I missed you. So I just borrowed it,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” You gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head, much to his delight.

“So, if I borrow your things more often, I get more kisses?” He gazed up at you mischievously.

“As long as you promise to return them. I do need that back today though. Any other time I wouldn’t care, but that’s my last shirt.” With your statement, he shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and moved to remove the shirt. Slightly alarmed, you placed your hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Not right here!” He chuckled at your exclamation.

“Well, you didn’t specify.” He was such a little shit and he knew it. But, he also knew he could get away with it.

“If you’re so eager to take it off, let’s go to my room or something.” It was your turn to laugh.

“What are we waiting for them?” With the most energy you’d seen out of him in the past week, he grabbed your hand and effectively dragged you after him. You had a soft spot for him, and you both knew that. You loved this cheeky, mischievous demon with all your heart. He loved you back to. He always looked at you with a caring, soft gaze that was reserved for you and you alone. How lucky were the both of you.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me! shall we date

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paiges-1vur · 3 days

Text

welcome to the party pt. 2

—————-

paige buckers x oc!

cw: language, alcohol, lots of sexual tension (smut coming soonnnn!!)

a/n: Please let me know if you guys like this, or dont like it. I want to know what you guys think! idk how long i want to make this series but i think there will be atleast 4-5 parts. Also the blacking out after 5 shots actually is something that happened to me once… Drink safely please!! anyways thats all i love you guys let me know if you like this 💕

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Friday 9:32 pm

It’s not long before the door opens up revealing a smiling girl. This must be Azzi, Rileys friend.

“Hi ry!” the girl says in a high pitched voice, “I haven’t seen you in so long we need to catch up.”

I see Riley smile and give her a quick hug before introducing me. I flash a quick nervous smile and tell her it was nice to finally meet her.

As we walk inside we meet 3 other girls. Then it hits me. Fuck. How could i be so stupid? I forgot Azzi was on the women’s basketball team. I walk in and try to suppress my anxiety as i face her 3 teammates.

Right as soon as i look to Riley for some stability, i notice her and Azzi have gone off somewhere else, probably to catch up.

The three girls are all occupied on their own, but one of them comes up to me as soon as she sees im uncomfortable.

“Hi your Ana, Rileys friend right! My names Nika and its really nice to meet you.” How could i be scared of this girl who sounded so sweet? I decided to pull myself together and try to have fun tonight.

“Yeah, im her roommate, and its really nice to meet you too!” I reply with a smile as she sips on her drink.

“And may i just say damn girl! you look so hot tonight!” Nika hypes me up and i do a little 360 giggling. As im spinning i see one of the other girls in the corner of my eye. The only girl i knew here. Paige Bueckers. “You know what lets do shots!” Nika is obviously feeling the same energy i am and i love it.

She calls the other girls over and quickly introduces me to kk who i love just as much as Nika. Paige stays quiet and Nika doesn’t say anything about her. She pours 4 shots and i say “Fuck it. Pour me 2” I hope I dont learn to regret this because being 5”1 and 120 pounds doesnt mix well with taking shots.

We all knock them back and i reach for my second one taking it down as quick as the first before making a quick face.

I look up to my right and see Paige looking down at me. Her eyes scan up and down my body as she bites her lip. I blush and look away, and in the corner of my eye i can see her smirking.

Azzi and Riley come back into the kitchen and let us know its time to head out to the bars. We all pack into Azzi’s car which has just enough room to fit us all. As soon as we pull out Azzi says “Shit. Guys is it okay if we pick up my friend real quick she just needs a ride to the bar thats all.” We all nod in understanding because we don’t mind.

As soon as her friend walks out of her building Azzi says “Okay theres not enough room so Ana since your the smallest your going to have to sit on Paiges lap. Is that okay?”

My mouth goes dry. i somehow manage a “Yeah thats fine.” As i move over to Paiges side of the car and sit on her lap. I immediately feel her staring at me. I turn my head to look at her, and her pupils are dilated and her eyes an icy blue. I feel her staring at my top again and this time i decide to be bold.

“You like what you see?” I whispered looking at her through my eyelashes and twirling my hair in my finger, biting my lip ever so slightly.

I can see her demeanor instantly change. She grins and comes down to my ear “I would like to see what you look like under it more.” I gulp and turn my head to the window trying to hide how wet that just made me.

I cant help from getting uncomfortable on Paiges lap in my mini skirt and have to keep moving my position on her lap. All of a sudden i feel two big hands on my hips. I look up at her as she licks her lips.

“Don’t start something you cant finish.” This immediately stops me from moving until the rest of the car ride, but Paiges hands linger on my hips for the rest of the ride.

————————

We all walk into the bar quickly flashing the bouncer our ids. Nika told me that tonight was going to be really fun especially because Paige knows the owner of the bar so we can do basically whatever we want.

We all sit down at a table and Im already feeling tipsy (but thats also coming from the girl who blacked out after 5 shots once..) “Who wants to get more shots!” I half scream at the girls smiling ear to ear.

They all laugh as Paige gets up and goes to the bar to order us two rounds. We are celebrating tonight. Once she got back we immediately downed the next two rounds and i decided i wanted to dance. I grabbed Nika by the hand laughing and dragged her to the dance floor.

She was surprisingly a good dancer and we danced with each other to the music that was blasting from the speakers. I started to grind on Nika as she hyped me up. I had my back faced to her as i moved up and down her body before turning around and putting my hands on her chest laughing because people had started to cheer us on.

I look over and see Paige staring at me moving on Nika, her hold so tight on her drink it could shatter at any moment. She stares me down in jealousy, and shit was it hot.

As the night went on I talked to all the girls and they were all super nice and i wanted to get to know them.

We started talking about basketball and when i asked who’s the best everyone turned to Paige. She bragged about how good she was for about 10 minutes.

She flexed and looked at me, “These don’t just come in overnight.” Everyone at the table laughed. My jaw dropped and the Paige looked over at me and winked. I mean i knew she was jacked. She had toned arms, smooth abs, and a killer back. NOT that i had ever looked that up on youtube.

I decide to distract myself from the growing need to touch Paige.

“GUYS!” I say ten volumes louder than i should have, “Guys lets lets play truth or dare right now i want to play now.” Everybody laughs and agrees as we sip our drinks.

The game is going well until its Paiges turn to ask me.

“Ana truth or dare.” She says flashing me her signature smirk. I try not to melt under her gaze. I know shes looking at my tits, but i don’t care. I want her to.

“Dare.” I say drunkenly, ready for whatever shes about to throw my way.

She laughs, “Lets do body shots.”

“W-what” I mumble, my brain suddenly slowing everything down.

“You heard me.” She gets up from the table and walks over to the bar. I look around at the other girls at the table and they all are smiling and trying to hide their laughs. Im just about to ask what the fuck i got myself into but then i hear something coming from the speakers.

“No fucking way.” I say. Azzi is trying to hide her laughing under a napkin. Pony by Ginuine starts blasting in the bar as i see Paige whisper something into the bartenders ear with a grin on her face. The girls at the table are absolutely losing it. Suddenly the bartender speaks into a microphone.

“Everyone we have a little something special for you all tonight. We have my good friend Paige and her new friend Ana are going to do body shots so lets give them all a warm welcome!”

People are whistling and cheering, eating up this little act.

“Come on up Ana!” The bartender looks over to my table and waves me over to the bar. I get up from my seat slowly walking to the bar, as Paige offers me her hand to get on top of it. I look at her with a “what the fuck.” look and she only laughs in response.

I lie down on the bar feeling very underdressed. As the music plays I decide to let go and let myself be happy. I can’t live life always worrying about the what ifs right?

I let myself feel free and the music blasting in my ears makes me anticipate whats going to happen. The bartender pours the shot and puts it down next to my head. She then pours the line of salt across my chest, which I’m sure was per Paiges request.

“Here you go hun.” The bartender hands me the lime to put in my mouth as she flashes me a wink. “Everybody lets hear it one more time for Paige!” The crowd erupts people clapping, screaming, and whistling. I see Nika holding her phone up recording this all, but to be honest, i don’t fucking care. Im too drunk to worry about the little things.

As im ready for Paige to initiate it i see her move. She climbs up on the bar and straddles my stomach, playing into this little act. Everyone is screaming clearly eating it up. i look up at her trying not to moan at just the sight of her on top of me. Fuck i need some sort of friction.

She leans down and grabs both of my wrists, and i let her take full control. She pins them above my head and smiles before scanning over my upper body one more time and whistling to the crowd.

I close my eyes before hearing Paige by my ear whisper “Open your eyes baby. I want you to see my face when i do this to you” I flutter my big brown eyes open staring at her in awe. “Good girl.” she says before returning to the act.

She leans down putting her free hand on my upper stomach as she licks the line of salt from my exposed chest. My back arches in response to her tongue and shit it feels so good. She then grabs the shot and downs it before coming down to my face and gabbing the lime from my mouth.

Still straddling me she sits up and tilts her head back with the lime in her mouth. The bar is packed full of students all screaming and cheering. The girls over at our table are still recording and cheering for Paige and I.

Im so drunk at this point that im stumbling back to the booth, and im fully leaning on Paige in the corner of the booth, sort of behind me. The girls whistle and Nika tells me how sexy that was. I giggle and lean back into Paige more, sitting in between her legs. The girls start to talk about something else, probably basketball before i feel a big cold hand sneak up my skirt on the inside of my thigh.

——————————

#azzi fudd #kk arnold #paige buckets #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige x reader #p boogers #nika muhl #ncaa wbb #wbb x reader #wbb #cwbb

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latibvles · 1 day

Text

one hell of a reunion.

a continuation of this, but from Buck’s point of view, which was fun to write. this is for the prompt "reunited". trigger warning for discussion of character death & depictions of injuries — Viv references a beating but doesn’t go into explicit detail. Our favorite pilot isn’t doing too well! Don’t look too hard at any historical inaccuracies it’s my party and we can have some inaccuracies for the plot as a treat.

—

There is nothing quite like it: the dread of waiting.

He’d felt it during the week without Bucky, when Brady showed up asking for him about three days after Buck himself had wound up here. It was miserable, waiting at that fence like some kid waiting for the mailman. Miserable still, when Inez and Harriet came the day after Bucky, asking about the rest of their crew, and Buck quickly realized he was not done waiting.

They talk about it: what and who went down — although it’s more like Inez talks about it and Harriet’s head hangs low in a way Buck’s never seen before, and it kills him a little bit. She’s got a black and blue bruise curling around her eye that he doesn’t ask about for the sake of not losing his own mind on one of these guards.

Two unlucky bastards from the 95th were their stand-ins for Willie and Jo, the former in the hospital, the latter probably on her way to the flak house. He could see it, Viv fighting to get in the air anyway because everyone else was going.

“It was like our whole tail got blown off,” Inez is holding Harrie’s hand tightly, like she might slip away otherwise. “Fighter jets tore up our whole waist. Then there was a rocket. Engine fire on the way out. We lost Fern, Carrie, Lorraine.”

There are two sides to waiting.

Knowing that three of them wouldn’t be coming home doesn’t bring any comfort. Knowing three of them were still out there, probably, perpetuates the restlessness Buck has been feeling for days.

June, Lena, Viv — Benny starts pacing around so often that Buck thinks he just might start digging a trench that takes up the whole block. Bucky and himself are little more than ghosts staring at the fence when the siren goes off, a few steps behind Inez and Harrie, the former clinging to the fence like a lifeline or a promise.

As much as they all knew nothing was guaranteed, there were still parts of them that wanted to believe some things could be. Even Buck himself wasn’t immune to it: being shot down never once occurred to him, Bucky being shot down two days later never occurred to him. The prospect of Viv dead somewhere never once crossed his mind. To his credit, neither of them would ever let him think like that if they could help it.

And so he hates this: this waiting, the hoping, and the dreading, and all that comes with it.

There is no privacy here. They feign it anyway. They pretend not to hear Harriet’s quiet sniffling on the first night, up in the third row of bunks. That nearly kills Buck. By the fourth night, Bucky laments in a quiet mumble how he didn’t set things up right with an air of finality to it that doesn’t sit right in Buck’s bones. He doesn’t push for details. He doesn’t have to. Your move, Viv, is all Buck thinks, into the silence of the room. Now or never.

That last part, even in his head, sounds like her.

It is four more days of trudging along. Eight days — longer than a week, and on that eighth day, Buck doesn’t bring himself to wait by the fence anymore, and neither does Bucky, so Crank goes instead with the girls. There’s something implicitly unsafe about leaving them alone in a place like this, and Crank’s been good to them. Kept his head on straight, miraculously enough, and for that, Buck is grateful. Better than Benny, who paces, or he and Bucky, who are being consumed by their waiting, or Brady, who looks guilty for things he can’t control.

Willie’s back in England after all, but of course John Brady will be guilty over the one, minimal comfort he has.

On the eighth day, Harriet practically knocks the door down — a bat out of hell — and Buck can’t believe he’d forgotten how much of a livewire the girl could be. She’s flush-faced and panting, but still points decisively.

“Need… hah… one’o you big boys… Cap ain’t walkin’ right,” is what she says between wheezes. “M’not… not tall enough.” And Buck startles, half-because he thinks Harriet’s about to collapse but she bats his hands away with a smile and a “Not me, you goof! Over there!” Gesturing wildly to the outside, and Buck follows her as Brady moves to get Harriet water and guide her into a chair. Bucky’s right behind him as they step out into the grayscale yard.

They walk maybe a couple feet before stopping and Bucky says exactly what Buck is thinking.

“Holy shit— Viv?” Disbelieving, gaping, even from a few feet away. Buck recognizes the faces instantly: the bright red of Lena Connolly’s hair and the golden blonde of June Cielinski.

“That you, Cleven?!” It’s Lena who speaks, not Viv. Viv currently has an arm slung over Crank’s shoulders, leaning on him. Buck knows it’s taking Bucky everything in him not to break out into a run like a madman, but they’re both moving with a sense of urgency.

It doesn’t take a genius to know they’ve been through hell.

There’s a split running through June’s lip and the three of them look gaunt and tired. Lena still smiles from ear-to-ear and he reaches out to give both June and Lena’s arms a meaningful squeeze. They were careful now, with the girls — not wanting to draw attention to them with loud welcomes and tight embraces. But he lets Viv use his shoulders as Lena recalls that their pilot’s been limping since the crash and took a hard fall on the train platform. There’s something relieving about the weight on his shoulders and how real it feels.

“Should get that checked out. We could ask around about a doctor.” He keeps his voice low. Viv shakes her head and lifts her gaze and Buck finally sees how tired she looks, dark circles coupled with a bruise on her cheek that has his jaw clenching.

“Don’t need it. I’m fine.” Her voice is hoarse, scratchy. Buck’s brows furrow.

“You kidding? You can barely stand.”

“But I am.”

“Viv—”

“Cleven I swear to God—” Viv snaps. Cleven, not Buck, not even Gale. He doesn’t think he’s heard Cleven leave her mouth since Nebraska. He isn’t sure if those fingers digging into his shoulder are a means of grasping onto him tighter or a means of warning him like the way a dog bares its teeth. And then she reels back and breaks away from looking at him — her voice softer like she’s remembering who he is. “Just… I just need to sit. And get the boot off.”

This is not the woman that he knows. Maybe he’s seen her in passing, but Buck’s not used to these bared teeth being flung around so carelessly. She’s already made up her mind. Bucky gets the door on the way in, and June and Lena take off with that whirlwind swiftness that’s so intrinsic to that whole damn crew. Viv hasn’t said a word still.

They make it to their room, to girls in a tight embrace, and they wait until Viv’s eased into a chair to shower her with the same relieved affection. Her eyes just flutter shut for a moment with a long sigh as Harriet hugs her head. Everything is in motion, except for Viv herself, and that sight unsettles Buck to his bones. June is walking past to throw herself into Benny’s embrace, so tight that Buck thinks for the briefest moment they might crush each other into dust as Benny buries his face in her hair.

He doesn’t miss the stiffness to Bucky’s shoulders as he grabs another chair and goes about undoing Viv’s boot, he doesn’t miss how neither of them have hardly said a word. Viv reflexively reaches for Buck when he pulls the boot off, squeezing the life out of his wrist and face contorting into a wince — her whole damn ankle swelled up like a baseball. Bucky looks up, Viv looks down, Bucky looks at Buck.

“I’ll go poking around for ice. Maybe an extra pillow.” He rubs on her ankle for a moment before Harriet goes to snatch one of the pillows from an unclaimed bottom bunk to put on the chair as Bucky rises and sees himself out of the room.

Buck would hardly call it a reunion.

ii.

The Vivian that Buck knows and the Vivian that arrived at the Stalag feel almost completely different, and Buck knows that he isn’t the only one to notice the shift. She’s quiet, more often than not. She still waves off any attempt to help her, which she’s always done — but the patience is gone. Maybe not gone, maybe just in short supply; he’ll be the last to complain about anyone being in a bad mood, and it’s not like she’s started breaking things.

She stumbles, once, and there’s at least eight hands there to keep her upright, and it’s the first time Buck’s seen her look ashamed. Avoiding eye contact with anyone who helps her — no exceptions — and he’s pretty sure that part of it is killing Bucky a little bit. It’s killing him too, if he’s being completely honest, in the same way that Harriet’s sniffling on her first night did. The same way that waiting did.

Sometimes cracks of the woman Buck knows seeps through: when Lena says something especially sarcastic, or June and Benny start bickering quietly over their sad excuse of a dinner. He always finds himself looking over at her, hoping for a smile. The most he gets these days is the steely gaze softening a little, a small twinge of the corner of her mouth.

He keeps a careful eye on the other four girls and doesn’t try to hover too much. Bucky keeps things within reach of her hands or in places where she doesn’t have to move too far, but just enough to keep her a little bit independent.

“She’s just gotta get her head right,” The reminder sounds more like her voice than his own, even as he says it aloud. Bucky gives him a skeptical look. “It’s this place. Once she’s walking right it’ll be different.”

“You really believe that?”

When did Buck become the optimistic one?

“I do.” Another week has gone by, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that this place has a way of sucking the life out of you. You either end up restless or resigned. He can really only imagine what it feels like to show up half-alive already.

He gives Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze before heading into the billet, and stepping into the room.

Viv is sitting at her usual spot at the table, foot propped up. They couldn’t do much in the way of ice, so rags doused in water and left out to freeze overnight were the next best solution. Beside her is a half-eaten breakfast of bread and potatoes. He eyes the book curiously, before letting a small smile creep onto his face.

“Don’t let Bucky catch that, he’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

“Oh he gave me the earful last night when I asked him for it,” Viv peers over the battered copy of Runyon a la Carte. “‘Takes a crash landing and an ankle sprain for you to give it a shot’ he said. Kept going on and on…” She trails off, head bowing like a dog with its tail between his legs. Buck can see it now: Bucky, probably trying to make her laugh, and Viv not being able to give him much in the way of a reaction. Do you really believe that?

It’s really the most she’s spoken in days, and Buck feels almost greedy to keep her talking. Like it’s some proof of progress.

“And that ankle?”

“Hurts.”

“Could be worse.” Viv snorts, something sardonic and venom filled as she shuts the book with a shake of her head.

“Oh yeah,” sarcasm seeps into her words, “I could’ve blown up somewhere over Germany. Give you all one less problem to deal with? That’s way worse.”

“Is that what you think?” Gale asks, somewhere between hardly believing her words and understanding them completely. Viv gestures to the space around them.

“That’s what I know,” she counters, like she’s taking root in her stance with no intention to change it. “You’ve got that… that radio you’ve been working on. And when it’s not working right that’s how Bucky keeps himself useful. Benny’s fucking knitting. Most I’ve done since fucking Bremen is taken a beating in a transit camp ‘cause they thought I was lying about June being American. So don’t—” her voice cracks a little bit as it trembles on each word. She looks away for a moment. “Don’t you dare tell me that I’m not a problem sitting here doing fuck-all. I know what I am.”

There’s so much that Buck wants to say, but he’s combing through the words. Because he could tell her about how even in the moment that they’d seen her it was like they could all breathe again. No longer the kid waiting for the mailman — he didn’t care that she wasn’t going straight to work. They just wanted her to be here.

And then Buck thinks of Viv promising to get Bucky back to barracks when he calls it an early night, and Viv wrapping her knuckles after knocking the teeth in of a stranger who’d gotten too close to a replacement, and Viv worming her way up to the control tower to count forts — and doing it on the tarmac, too, hair all mussed from the helmet, scratches on her face. The letters she’d written to crews’ families just because she knew them and would call them friends. A runway in Nebraska, star-filled night: none of this works if you’re not onboard with it, too, Cleven. Don’t make me haul you up here with me.

Christ, she’d been making herself useful since the beginning. Didn’t complain, didn’t have a fit about it, didn’t even expect a thank you. Viv was the last person who should’ve been worried about being a problem.

“Think you’ve earned it — it’s not any trouble, you know that, too,” Buck reaches over to grab the back of her chair, pulling it closer to his own before reaching under the table leg for the half-finished radio he’d been working with for the past few days. “What you are, is alive, and you could ask anyone who comes through that door if they think you’d be better off dead and I think you’d already know the answer to that,” he continues, then sets the radio on the table. “But if you want to be useful, hold this in place for me.” He gestures to the wooden platform that the radio’s being built upon.

Viv looks at him for a long moment, like she’s waiting for something. She looks… small, in a way that he’s only seen in minor increments — when it dawned on them that Curt really wasn’t coming back, or when Dye pointed out how many crews they’d lost by the time he hit twenty-five missions. But she doesn’t quickly mask it like she might’ve before. Her lips, in spite of that small, bordering on kicked-puppy expression, curl into a smile. Something proper and alive, as opposed to the ghost of a lip twitch that she’d been giving sparingly.

“There she is,” Buck can’t help it, and Viv lets out some type of breathless laugh, knowing what he means. She rolls her eyes in a way that’s both playfully annoyed and so, so familiar.

“Shut up, Buck.” She holds the base steady while Buck fiddles with screws and wires.

It’s one hell of a reunion.

#masters of the air oc #*poet writes #masters of the air fic #mota oc #buck cleven fic #buck cleven

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lacrimosathedark · 9 hours

Text

As a big time Radioapple shipper, I would love it if Radioapple writers didn't like, bash Lilith?

I've seen a handful of writers make Lilith downright abusive. Saying Lucifer's ducks are ridiculous, that his dreams are outlandish, even going so far as to say he's useless or pathetic. This is often used to highlight the difference between Lilith and Alastor when Alastor is shockingly understanding, as if Lilith wouldn't be and is portrayed as and ice queen. Which is nothing like what little we know of her.

The intro says she inspired demonkind. In the pilot, there are posters of her encouraging Sinners to resist against the Exterminations. Charlie is so sure that Lilith would support her hotel. The paintings in Lucifer's office show a loving, happy family.

People who love each other can grow apart without either being outright abusive.

Lucifer's Fall came with a great deal of despair, exacerbated by the cruelty he saw in Sinners. His depression was in direct opposition to Lilith's hopes.

And then there's his AuDHD, which probably leads to him focusing on one thing or another and losing track of time, time he could be spending with his family. Not like he means to be away, it just happens.

And of course he's so socially awkward and Lilith is inspirational, so any "royal duties" probably fell on Lilith's shoulders rather than Lucifer's.

That's a lot of strain on the relationship without either one being particularly cruel or at fault. Just drifting apart.

It's possible Lilith kept Charlie from Lucifer when they split, but there's so many reasons she could have done that. If he got focused on something, he might not pay enough attention to her and she get hurt for example. There's also the possibility of anything Lilith was doing behind Lucifer's back to help Hell have something to do with Charlie.

And Lucifer is still wearing his ring, keeps up family portraits as a reminder. If there was any resentment for her at all, he could have covered up Lilith. We've seen Blitzø scribble out his own face in photographs and scribbled over Verosika on his calendar, and Stolas cover all portraits and revealing only Octavia. It's not out of the realm of possibility. But he didn't and he keeps that reminder of her with him.

And while very much not canon, I've seen Viv like fanart of Lucifer showing his ducks to Lilith and her loving them. Lucifer is adorable and do you think he was any LESS silly before his hopes were shattered? No! If anything, he was probably SILLIER when she fell in love with him. All that creative power and imagination, only scolding to dampen his sparkle, and not scolding from Lilith. He would tell her all about his funny ideas and would she have married him if she didn't love that about him?

Lucifer and Lilith were very much in love at first. The only hint we have that Lilith is actually a horrible person is that the person that is presumably her made some deal with Adam and has been chilling somewhere outside of Hell for the last seven years without telling her daughter anything at all. Which there could be so many reasons for.

And that dark look she gave to Lute doesn't have to be her being annoyed at having to go back to Hell to her family. Lute is a bitch, and also just called Lilith's daughter a bitch. Like...do you expect her to smile at her??? Lute sucks. (for the record, I hate her as a character, which I think means she's a good character. And her voice is AMAZING and I need to hear her sing more after You Didn't Know because WOW)

All that is to say, a separation doesn't have to be from abuse and it can still be hard to move on. AND you don't have to hate your ex to move on to dating someone else.

You don't need to villainize Lilith to make Alastor look good. Part of Alastor's appeal is that he's a complex contradictory bastard. If you want his behavior compared to something to make him look good, use his past actions. If he's getting kinder, sweeter, more understanding, his old antagonism would contrast it. And if you want to use someone else, Adam's right there! And he SUCKS! (I like him as a character tho, he's hilarious)

I don't like shipping Lucifer with Adam, but I know some people do, and I also like the idea that they were friends before everything fell apart. But Adam is all the negative things Alastor is not.

Both of them are prideful, but so is Lucifer. And Alastor generally wields his pride with grace while Adam never shuts the fuck up about himself.

Adam clearly has little to no respect for women, just by how he treats Lilith and Vaggie and even Charlie. Alastor holds women in high regard, and most of the people he seems to have actual relationships with are women, Niffty, Rosie, Mimzy, and even Charlie.

Adam is always talking about sex and bragging about how much he fucks, and says that Charlie and Vaggie's relationship is "hot as fuck" which, ew. Alastor, meanwhile, is (obliviously) asexual, has a general disregard for sexuality, and open disdain for hypersexuality.

Adam is very openly uncouth and brash and rude and constantly swearing. Alastor is vicious, but he is charming and genteel all the while, and swears a whole of three times in season one. First, the "Fuck you" to Lucifer in Episode Five (it took him that long to swear ONCE), and then twice in Episode Eight, once when first letting loose in his fight against Adam, and second when he was stunned right before getting wounded. Adam drops cunt in the first episode lol

Adam is also an open book where Alastor is a puzzle hidden behind a smile.

If you wanna compare Alastor, or anyone else you'd ship Lucifer with, to someone he might have been close to from all the way back in Eden times, Lilith isn't the only option there.

Let Lilith say one word before you decide she's evil, yeah?

#Hazbin Hotel #Lilith Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar #Alastor the Radio Demon #Adam (Hazbin Hotel)#Lucilith #Radioapple

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hellishere7980 · 2 days

Text

Whatever It Takes (CH-7)

Someone rang the doorbell. The whole family Had gathered and were eating an amazing dinner courtesy of Alfred. Alfred, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Bruce, Selina and Talia were there to celebrate the newly turned 9 year old boy's birthday.

Someone rang the doorbell. Everyone was on high alert as Alfred walked out of the kitchen to answer the door and everyone else followed.

On the other side of the door stood Mariam.

“Ukhti!” Damian exclaimed as he rushed past Alfred and hugged her.

“Mariam?” Talia said, stepping forward. “But you–”

Damian moved aside and Talia speed-walked past him and grabbed her daughter in a hug. “I thought I lost you.” She whispered in Mariam’s ear.

“Mother, you can't be free of me that easily.” Mariam replied, smiling.

“I believe we have a cake to cut, don't we? Let us take this inside, shall we?” Alfred said and they all trooped back into the dining room.

“Where have you been?” Dick asked.

“Somewhere safe.” Mariam replied. “Oh! Least I forget it.” She said, sliding a beautifully packaged box towards Damian. “Happy birthday, Damian.”

Damian slowly under the ribbon on the gift box and opened it to find a sketchbook and a set of pencil colors. He looked up questioningly at Mariam.

“You know, I'm traveling around, trying new stuff.” Mariam began. “I found out I really liked drawing. So I thought you would like it too. I mean, it's practical. It takes up little to no space. It comes easily to us. And it's basically like drawing the layout of a building, but with more details and smaller objects–”

“And more pretty” Selina added.

“It's fun, trust me.”

“Mm-hmm.” Damian said, inspecting the pencil colors. “They are of admirable quality.”

“Well, of course they are.” Mariam replied. “I’m the one who picked them.”

“How exactly did you pick them?” Bruce said.

“What do you mean, Father?” Mariam asked, although her eyes were still fixed on Damian's joyous expression.

“I mean That Talia didn't give you any money.” Bruce continued.

“How would you know that?” Mariam asked.

“Because I told them, daughter.” Talia said.

“Well, can't argue with that.” Mariam said. “But you know, getting money isn't exactly hard. And I have sufficient training to get a job, you know. I mean, I've seen people less qualified than me earning nicely.”

“Well, I agree.” Damian said. He had set aside his gift along with his other gifts. “League education is nothing to be laughed at.”

“Yeah, but still, you shouldn't have to do this.” Talia said with a mocking smile. “Isn't that right, daughter?”

“Ha, ha, ha.” Mariam gave a light laugh. “Walked right into that one, I did. But it's fun. Genuinely, it's a lot of fun.”

The rest of the conversation ended in favor of Damian's celebration. Or “Successful completion of nine years of existence.” In Tim’s opinion.

Afterwards, they all left for patrol. Mariam was wearing a basic outfit of Batgirl's costume with Nightwing as her buddy.

After the patrol winded up, they all met at the rendezvous point on top of the Wayne Enterprises building. All happily looking down at the smoke filled the city with blinking lights clearing up at them.

“Mariam?” Talia said, turning towards her. “Why do you insist on this?”

She turned away from the look and looked deep into her mother's eyes. “Insist on what, mother?”

“Insisting on living on your own when there are two houses perfectly capable of taking you in. You don't need to stay with me, You can stay here with your father if you want.”

“Is it wrong to insist on it if I have a perfectly valid reason?” Mariam asked.

“What is this perfectly valid reason ukhti?” Damian asked her. “What is this reason that justifies you staying away from us?”

“Simple.” Mariam said, moving towards the edge of the building. Everyone saw it and their muscles tensed. “I knew Grandfather was gonna die before he died.”

“What?” Bruce growled.

“I'm the one who killed him. I-I” Her breath hitched. “He was coming after you, Mother.”

“What are you talking about?” Talia asked. “You mean to say that your grandfather was coming after me?”

“He intended to.” Mariam replied.

“You could have talked to me about it.” Talia said, throwing up her hands in frustration, her voice reflecting her anger.

“I'm sorry mother, but it would not have yielded any results.” Mariam said, looking deep into her eyes. “All this while you couldn't see what was happening. Actually, you could see, but you refused to understand it. Grandfather, he was sending you into dangerous missions, treating you so horribly. He would have had you married to somebody in the League But was simply scared that his son-in-law could be a potential threat. A potential heir to the throne. You give up on so many of your dreams. Just do not anger him. And for what?” She scoffed. “Only for you to be thrown away once you have trained your replacement? Once you had trained me? Couldn't you see that, mother?”

Talia stood speechless.

Mariam continued. “I couldn't let him take you, Mother. I regret what I had to do, but I will not apologize for it.” She took a small step back and stumbled on the edge. “But I apologize to you all.” She said in a whispered voice that carried through the silent night despite the traffic below. With that, she turned around and dropped from the building.

All those on the roof rushed near her in a desperate attempt to grapple her to safety. She hadn't taken her grapple. But they saw no sign of her.

They all stumbled back near the center of the building. Everyone still reeling in shock. They were shaken out of their thoughts when Oracle’s voice chimed in in the comms. “She just dropped by with the uniform and left.”

“Team head back to the Cave.” Batman said and hence, the night ended.

Mariam's second visit came a day after Bruce's birthday.

They all had come back from patrol and were winding up for the night, when they heard light footsteps. All except Damian drew their weapons and stood ready.

They all waited breathlessly as they saw the shadow of a human coming closer.

“Mariam!” Damian exclaimed.

As she came into proper view, she gave all of them a meek smile. “Happy belated birthday, father.” She said as she stopped walking.

“Mariam?” Bruce asked not believing himself and how could he? After they had made her run away?

“In flesh.” Mariam said, giving a light chuckle.

“Why have you come now?” Damian said, cutting into the conversation. “Why didn't you come yesterday when it was actually Father's birthday?”

Mariam's fingers lightly fidgeted with the ribbon on the gift before answering. “I didn't want to ruin his birthday like I ruined yours.”

“Mariam,” Bruce said. “Never think that you would ruin my birthday. You are always welcome here.”

They all moved upstairs for a nice cup of tea before bed.

“How long are you gonna be staying here?” Tim asked as he happily munched on some chips which Alfred had provided.

“Just a couple of hours. I'll be meeting with Mother afterwards.” Mariam replied.

“Mariam?” Bruce said.

“Yes, Father?”

“There's something I need to discuss with you.”

“Sure.”

“Let's go to my study.”

As they both got up, Damian blurted out, “I wish to go to visit Mother too.”

Bruce said, “It's fine by me. Will you be able to take him with you, Mariam?”

“Yeah.” She replied.

“Yeah?” Dick asked. “Since when did you start saying yeah?”

“I've been traveling. It's fun to see so many people. I picked up some words.” Mariam said before following Bruce out of the dining room.

Later, when they were in his study, he motioned her to sit down and he sat down opposite her. “Mariam, your mother and I have been talking.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that you're not staying with any of us. If there's a reason then please let us know.”

“I–” She said before taking a deep breath in and continuing. “I just want to see what a normal life feels like.”

“If you want a normal life, you can find it here.”

“I don't think I can. Believe it or not, Father, life as a billionaire's daughter does not qualify as normal.”

“There is also another reason. Isn't it?”

Mariam drew a deep breath in. “Promise me you won't tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” Bruce replied, slightly leaning forward, trying to give an encouraging nod.

“Ra’s Al-Ghul was my grandfather. E-even though he treated me and mother horribly, there was still a sense of respect I had for him. Was it because it was ingrained in me or simply a respect for his skills? I can't seem to define it. But what I do know is, deep down, I did consider him f-family. I did consider him my blood. And–” She again drew a sharp breath in. “I can't seem to get rid of the guilt. I cannot wake up every morning and see his eyes in Mother’s and Damian’s. I-I didn't mean to kill him, but he was hurting the people I loved. Even heard from some of his trusted advisors that he was considering-g”

“Considering replacing mother with you?” Bruce prompted.

“Yes, he was considering replacing mother with me. I couldn't risk that.”

“It's alright.” Bruce said, gently patting her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “Everything will be fine.”

Wish I could believe that. Mariam thought but didn't say it out loud. Some secrets are better left unsaid.

#maribat #miraculous lb #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #hellishere7980 #damian wayne #tim drake #talia al ghul #ras al ghul

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waterdeep-weavemoss · 2 days

Text

Yearn

'When you walk away I count the steps that you take, do you see how much I need you right now?' - When You're Gone, Avril Lavigne

‘Enemies ahead,’ said Astarion softly, holding out a hand to stop Tav going further. ‘Careful, darling.’

‘I’ll be fine, Astarion,’ said Tav in an exasperated whisper. ‘I can fight as well as you.’

‘Oh of course,’ he said, smirking sidelong at her. ‘Positively deadly. The thing is my love, if something happened to you, Halsin would snap my spine. So please just stay here.’ He kissed her cheek and scampered ahead and up high before she could admonish him for using her own words against her. She rolled her eyes, settling into a crouch.

‘No worries, soldier,’ said Karlach from somewhere on her right. ‘We’ve got you.’ She posted herself beneath Astarion’s vantage point.

Tav simmered with frustration. Ahead, a Bhaalist turned and looked her in the eye. She growled softly, readying fire in her hands- and he was cut down by Karlach’s axe and an arrow to the throat. She cursed, the fire dying in her palm. She made to move closer, to finally join the dance of spell and blade, and Halsin rushed by in cave bear form to maul the closest Bhaalist to her. Shadowheart was tucked away with her healing spells keeping the others on their feet, Wyll shot off a few well-timed eldritch blasts, Lae’zel was wiping guts from her blade. Even Jaheira and Minsc were back-to-back whirling through the pack, dervishes of death. More were coming though; they were in overwhelming numbers, their invisibility making them difficult to attack. With everyone else preoccupied, Tav misty stepped to meet them. She shot off a lightning spell, grinning as they juddered like puppets on jolted strings, but it wasn’t enough. They closed in on her, wicked sharp blades trained on her throat, her breast, her stomach. Somewhere behind her she heard Halsin roar, enraged. Astarion cursed, but there was nothing he could do. There were too many of them, five or six at least. I’ll be fine, thought Tav. I’ve had worse than a few wounds. Halsin will patch me up. Heart hammering, she braced to flee. She would just have to be quick. The three with weapons pointed at her smiled, knowing she was trapped.

‘Run and it’s all over,’ said one.

‘Arde!’

Before she could retort, her vision filled with fire. The rush of heat sent her heart into her throat and her assailants screamed. Before her eyes, their bodies writhed violent death throes as they burned and crisped and lie there, charred and smoking. She whirled, unharmed. Above her, Gale stood with arms outstretched, face set in furious determination. Meeting her eye his expression softened a little and he nodded, misty stepping down to her.

‘Thanks,’ she said breathlessly, gulping in air to still her galloping heart.

‘Pish posh,’ he said in response, waving it away like it was nothing. ‘What’s a bit of lifesaving between friends, eh?’ Her heart clenched. A few tendrils of hair had escaped the bun at the back of his head and were framing his face. She found herself reaching for him as though she might tuck them behind his ears. To her surprise he stayed still, and when her fingers brushed his cheek, he leaned into her touch. She felt his heartbeat pick up a little. Just as it was.

‘Are you alright, my heart?’ said Halsin worriedly. She snatched her hand away and Gale stepped back as Halsin crushed Tav to his muscled chest. One huge hand cupped her jaw gently, checking her over for injuries. ‘You just rushed in…’

‘M’fine,’ she muttered. ‘I just want to go home.’ She felt Gale’s eyes on her as the druid led her away, the others falling into step behind them.

That night she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Halsin breathed slow and deep beside her, one hand splayed across her belly. He was truly perfect. Soft and kind, he could calm her racing heart with a touch, he kissed her like he needed her, a generous lover and a formidable ally. She closed her eyes, tears slipping silently into her hair.

It had been months since she had seen Gale’s vision of his tower in Waterdeep. The screams of the cursed in the dark were quieted, replaced by a suite on the piano. She could reach out and touch the textures of the place he called home, smell the herbs and spices and the sea breeze. He’d awed her, but it was his touch she wanted. That was real.

She dreamed of it every night.

It had been magical. Once in a lifetime. And then she’d broken both their hearts.

She’d tried to make peace with her choice. Halsin challenged her, he made her feel good, he told her she was beautiful multiple times a day. There was no grievance to be had, and yet she found her eyes drawn to the wizard without thinking. For Tav, the natural thing was to seek him out; even in the aftermath, when she could hear him crying softly as everyone else slept, when a guarded expression shut down his features every time she came near, she wanted to be close. In battle, they were as far from each other as they could get. Raining fire from both sides of the battlefield was the most logical thing, Lae’zel and Karlach had explained, and so she’d done it without complaint.

It kept her out of danger, too. Halsin fussed over her so much she wanted to snap at him that she wasn’t a child, that she could kill with the best of them. It wasn’t like before, where she had stood shoulder to shoulder with Gale and rained hell with him, feeding off one another’s adrenaline, falling into each others’ arms for ravenous kisses when the battle was over.

She nudged the druid awake. ‘Halsin?’

‘Mmm?’ He stroked her hair. ‘Why are you crying, sweet one?’

‘I have to leave you.’

‘Tav,’ he rumbled quietly. ‘I have feelings like everyone else does. Do not play with me like this.’

‘I’m not,’ she said, extricating herself and standing. ‘I’m being serious. You’re wonderful, you really are. Don’t ever doubt that. Not ever. But I can’t be with you.’

He gazed at her, his hazel eyes deep and sad. ‘I see.’ He swallowed hard, voice coming out in a rasp. ‘Well… it was beautiful while it lasted. A brief season in our lives, but no less breathtaking for that.’

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He drew her to him, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. ‘Go.’

So, she went. She dressed silently, wiped violently at her eyes and left the tavern, walking the streets of Baldur’s Gate alone. It was still a hive of activity, but she made for the cemetery and sat on a stone bench, staring into the middle distance. Time passed quietly, achingly slowly.

‘Hey,’ said a voice. She jumped, having zoned out entirely. Astarion’s feline gaze was fixed on her face in concern. ‘You’ve been out for hours.’

‘How did-‘ she began.

‘I don’t sleep.’ His mouth curved a little. ‘Oh darling. You’re not a pretty crier. Come here.’ He drew her to him and she began to cry again, huge sobs that wracked her body. He held her silently, chin on top of her head. Only when she quieted did he speak again. ‘You left him.’ It was a statement. She nodded. ‘Well,’ he sighed. ‘I can’t say I know what you see in that silly wizard of ours, but I do know that he’s been talking about you in his sleep since you broke up. The yearning has been quite sickening, frankly. You two need to talk and work things out. For all our sakes.’ His words were flippant, but he rubbed her back comfortingly all the same. ‘Come on. You need to eat. And when you’ve eaten, you’re going to be a big girl about it and talk to your ex. Alright?’

‘Alright,’ she sniffled.

‘Good. Silly little thing. Up.’ He drew her by the hand to her feet and led her home. When they returned to the tavern, Halsin was nowhere to be seen. In fact, none of them were: at the door Astarion made his excuses, something about a hag’s lair Wyll had sniffed out in the city, and left her there. She pushed at the double doors, looking forward to a mug of hot tea and some fortifying food.

The sight that greeted her made her heart sink. Gale was standing by the fire, watching a batch of sweet pastries cook slowly with the aid of mage hand, pulling a kettle of water off the boil to make tea. He looked exactly as he had so many times before, giving all his care and attention to the task at hand. He looked up as she entered, his brown eyes widening at the state of her. ‘Tav,’ he said, striding to her. ‘You’ve been crying.’ He frowned in concern. ‘What happened?’

He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s happened. He thinks we’re still together and he’s still rushing to my aid like he did before.

‘I…’ she began, gritting her teeth against more tears. ‘Halsin and I broke up.’

‘Oh,’ he breathed. He stood rooted to the spot for a moment and then seemed to shake himself out of it, drawing her by the hand to sit at the table he’d set by the fire. ‘Sit here, the tea’s almost ready. Cinnamon swirls are almost ready too.’ He chanced a crooked smile. ‘Your favourite.’

She smiled back, wanting more than anything for things to be like they were. In short order, he was sat across from her with his own tea and pastry. She took a deep breath. ‘I left him because I can’t stop thinking of you.’ His jaw dropped; he hadn’t been expecting that, clearly. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know it’s not fair. She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I know you’re angry with me, and you should be. It was awful what I did to you. You opened up to me in a way that was so vulnerable, and I threw it away. I wouldn’t blame you if you said you never wanted to see me again. I hurt you so much. I know, I heard you cry. And Halsin is wonderful, but I regretted it as soon as I’d made my choice. But it was my choice. And I have to live with it, and-’

‘Tav-’

‘No, don’t. I just had to tell you, that’s all. I’m not expecting anything from you. Well, maybe some yelling. That would be fair.’ She opened her eyes, keeping them fixed on the steam rising from her cup.

‘Listen to me-’

‘And I mean, it’s selfish. To ask anything of you. But I ‘ve dreamed of that night we had every night since. You’re more real to me than anything, even if-’

‘TAV!’ Gale finally shouted, banging his fist on the table. She was shocked into silence. ‘Nine hells… shut up. I don’t care what your reasoning is. I don’t care that Halsin is perfect or that you understand what I went through. I don’t care.’

‘I know.’

‘Let me finish,’ he said sternly, holding up a finger. ‘Tav, none of it matters. Because-’

‘I know, Gale.’ Tav was already rising from the table. Gale was staring at her, half angry, half exasperated. Before she could get halfway to the door however, he materialised in front of her.

‘Don’t you dare walk away from me,’ he said. ‘Not when I just got you back.’

‘What?’

‘Gods, woman!’ he cried, throwing up his hands. ‘I adore you! I love every selfish, petty, angry part of you! I have been waiting, for months-’ he shook his head in disbelief and took her face in his hands. ‘Selfish of me, yes. Cruel of me, most certainly. He doesn’t deserve such venom. But we belong together. We always have and always will. And I have never been more certain of that than I am right now.’ His face blazed with confidence and certainty; this was something he knew in his soul. ‘Well?’ his voice was a little high pitched, desperate. ‘Say something.’

‘You’re right. I was a fool to leave,’ she began, ‘because I love-’

His lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence, his hands pulling her to him by the collar of her shirt, clinging to her like he’d never let her go again. The uneasy feeling that had settled in her heart melted away, replaced by a euphoric, soaring feeling. ‘Fuck, I love you,’ he said as they broke apart. She giggled as he kissed every bit of her he could reach- her nose, her cheeks, her mouth, her forehead. His gaze still smouldered with want and he crushed their lips together again, hands twining in her hair.

Taglist: @netherese0rb @boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin

#gale x tav #one sided halsin x tav #mine #*screams*

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sparkles-oflight · 1 day

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Umazane Misli

"Sanje so tvojega okusa Jutro po tebi mi diši Kompas več me ne posluša Moja izgubljena duša Išče le v smeri kjer si ti"

Synopsis: Jure helps Kris moving into Bojan's apartment and he finally asks the question that has been on his mind for a while....

Thank you @illbringyousolace for the proofreading on this one!

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

After the Stožice concert, their vacation, and the first leg of the winter tour, everything seemed to be about London. The band was going to live there for a couple of months in Žare's apartment to get some inspiration for the new album.

There's one thing Jure has noticed ever since Stožice: Bojan and Kris have been closer than ever. So, it was no surprise to the band when they announced they'd start living together to avoid paying more rent - Martin wasn't at his and Bojan's flat most of the time and Nace was no longer living near Kris either. What did surprise Jure when helping out Kris moving in with the singer was the occasional glances between the two, the small and not-so-small touches they'd exchange, the words of affection and small teases said out loud and the ones left unspoken. He hadn't noticed it until then, but they seemed to act like two high school sweethearts.

- Thanks, Jure! - Bojan hugged him - Princess over here would have taken so much longer without your help!

Kris rolled his eyes and then winked at Bojan.

- That's because you didn't get your ass up to help. - Kris riposted as he sat down on the sofa.

- I'd rather see your ass going up and down the stairs, your majesty. - the smaller one replied, earning a kiss blown at him by Kris.

- But thank you, Maček. - Kris turned his attention back to Jure - How can we pay you? Do you want to stay for dinner?

- No, no, I'm good. Also, I have plans for tonight.

Kris nodded, waiting to hear more from the drummer, but he didn't want to elaborate more. Usually, his plans meant hooking up with a girl, so it’s not like there was much to elaborate on.

- Can I just ask one question? - Jure asked.

- Sure. - the singer sat down next to the guitarist who put his arm on top of him.

They both watched as Jure walked around and tried to come up with the right words to say. Eventually, he decided to sit down in front of the two.

- What happened? - he said.

- What? - Kris' face contorted at the question, not quite sure what to make of it.

- I mean... - Jure sighed - After Stožice things have felt... Different. What I mean is... What's up with the two of you? Or, between you.

None of them said a word, they only glanced at each other as two children who got caught stealing cookies from the sewing kit.

- Kris, in Thailand you were always texting Bojan even though you said you were going to enjoy being far away from him for a couple of weeks. You even went as far as leaving us to go to your room and talk to Bojan on the phone.

Once again, more guilty looks and a slight blush crept into Kris' checks.

- Th-that's... - he tried to defend himself, but his voice came out slightly higher pitch than he expected so he left the words unspoken.

- Bojan, ever since we returned to touring you are all hands at Kris and even asking him to sit on you when he has plenty of room to sit somewhere else.

- Well, maybe I just like Kris' ass on my thighs. - he smirked.

- BOJAN! - the younger one tried to scold him, but the other couldn't help but laugh.

- Sorry, sorry, but come on, they'd know sooner or later.

Jure's eyes opened wide open, and Kris started fidgeting with his sweater's sleeves and whispering something.

- I was hoping it'd be later...

- When? When we marry and have kids?

- Oh, shut up!

- So, it's true? - Jure interrupted the love birds.

- Yeah, Kris and I are together. - Bojan replied to the curious kitty - Since October.

- Figured.

Jure sighed. Now he knows.

His face quickly shifted from relieved to sad and that got an eyebrow raise from Kris.

- I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. I mean... We didn't tell anyone.

- Oh, I did. My parents are already waiting for me to marry you.

- Oh god, Bojan, stop telling people we are together. It has only been one month!

- For them, it has been almost 9 years. Also, don't lie to me because Maks told me you told everyone at dinner about us before going to Thailand.

- Guys, it's okay. I assume neither Jan nor Nace knows about it? - Jure imposed the question.

- No, they don't, though I guess we can tell them now.

With no hesitation, Bojan took his phone out, and suddenly, both Jure and Kris' pockets made a sound. Jure picked up his phone.

Cvjet: Me and Kris have been fucking

- What the fuck, Bojan. - Jure laughed.

- We are not just fucking. – Kris pulled him by his ear.

Another sound came in.

Jonh: Yeah, we know

And one last sound.

Nacko: We heard you...

Jure was ready to set his phone aside, but as Kris read the messages, he began typing:

Krisko: when? Jonh: bus Nacko: Also, in Thailand, I tried to check on you when you left suddenly once Nacko: I never did it again Jonh: oh yeah, that too Jonh: the phone sex was good, uh

Jure glanced over at Kris and saw him with his hands on his head, clearly losing his sanity. Bojan was amused. The guitarist groaned out words of frustration and the singer called him all sorts of pet names as he rubbed his hands on his back.

- Well, I should get going... - Jure announced as he got up -, You guys have to... Not even talk, just have fun and stay safe, I guess.

- MAČEK! – Kris yelled in a last effort to control the situation, but it was too late because the blond cat had already left the apartment.

- I mean... we could have fun. – Bojan whispered to Kris after the door shut.

- I’m way too tired, Cvjetićanin.

They decided that they’d just sleep next to each other to commemorate Kris’ arrival.

When Bojan woke up, he took advantage of the fact that the window shutter didn’t close completely to gaze at Kris’ hair illuminated by small squares of light coming through it. His lover shined like a golden mosaic, and he wanted to melt at the sight of it.

He stroked his hair and while he ran his fingers through the small forming curls, he got closer. Bojan tilted his head to the side a little, feeling the other’s breath into his nose through his own. He looked up to see Kris, who opened his eyes slowly, and the blue ocean that he saw in him was telling him to proceed. Bojan smiled and kissed him.

Sometimes, Bojan would do that. Sometimes Bojan would kiss that gently after asking for his permission first. It was intimate, but it was their own way of telling each other “I love you” without using the words.

- The morning smells like you. – Bojan told Kris before the taller one grabbed him closer and pulled him onto his chest, giving him all the kisses he could before fully waking up.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Now I have to finish writting the story that ties in all my short stories... dear lord. Wish me luck

MASTER POST | Recommended next: Vse Kar Vem

#joker out #joker out fanfic #joker out kris #joker out bojan #kris gustin #kris guštin #bojan cvjetićanin #joker out jure #jure maček #bokris #fanfic

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waytooinvested · 3 days

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Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 15

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

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

Once they were outside Kara steered them confidently to a cosy little cafe a few blocks away, and insisted on going up to order while Lena sat down on one of the saggy sofas tucked into a back corner. It wasn’t somewhere she would normally have gone into, or even really noticed to pass it on the street. It was a little down at heel, the couch wearing threadbare in patches and some of the paint peeling around the windows, but they had a huge bookshelf filled with an assortment of tatty paperbacks and board games, the whole place smelled welcomingly of fresh coffee and newly baked cakes, and Lena found herself relaxing back into the cushions much more readily than she would have somewhere more upmarket.

In here it didn’t seem to matter that she was still wearing her harness-rumpled theatre t-shirt and sports leggings, or that her hair was a little bit sweaty. It felt like somewhere you could just flop down onto the shabby furniture and be yourself.

It was kind of perfect.

A couple of minutes later Kara was back, a massive mug topped with mounds of fluffy cream and studded all over with mini marshmallows in either hand.

‘What is that?’

‘It’s the deluxe chocolate special, and it’s medicinal, so no complaints.’

Kara plonked one of the mugs down in front of Lena, then took her seat beside her on the squashy couch, knee crooked up onto the cushion so that she was half turned towards her.

‘So… do you want to talk about what happened up there?’

Kara’s expression was all gentle compassion, but Lena found herself unable to meet it. She looked down at her drink instead, nudging the marshmallows around with the edge of her spoon so that all the pink were on one side, all the white on the other, just so she would have an excuse not to look up and meet Kara’s eyes.

‘You don’t have to if you’d rather not tell me. We can talk about something else.’

‘No, no it’s not that. Honestly I’m just so embarrassed. I can’t believe I reacted like that when I knew perfectly well I wasn’t in any danger – it was completely irrational.’

Kara was quiet for a moment, scooping cream from her own hot cocoa while she considered Lena’s words.

‘Did you know that I’m claustrophobic?’

‘I- no. I didn’t.’

‘It’s not something I really tell people if I can help it, but yeah, I am. More so when I was younger. I used to have panic attacks all the time when I first moved in with the Danvers’. It got better over time, but I still feel it sometimes, in elevators, or small places I know I can’t easily get out of. It’s not rational, but my body doesn’t care, and it feels impossible to just logic my way out of it while it’s happening.’

Lena thought of all the times they had shared an elevator. Kara had always seemed perfectly composed, and she wondered what signs she might have missed that she should have been looking after her friend in those moments, rather than casually flirting with her. She wished she had known before so that she could have been more supportive, but she also understood this being something that could feel intensely private, and was touched that Kara was willing to open up to her about it now. It made her want to offer the same in return.

She put her mug back down on the table and turned to give Kara and the conversation her full attention.

‘Do you mind me asking- do you know why it happens? Did something trigger it for you, or has it always been that way?’

‘Not always. It started after an accident I was in as a kid – I was in a car that went off the road and ended up in a ravine. Somehow I wasn’t hurt at all by the fall, but the doors were crushed in pretty badly, and I was trapped in there for- I don’t even know. It felt like years to me then, but I know it can’t have been all that long really – a couple of days maybe. Not long enough for dehydration to become a major danger anyway. I was definitely there for at least one night though, because I remember it being so so dark, and being sure that there were Things right outside trying to come in and hurt me. I was so afraid and so sure no one was ever coming to rescue me. It was not long after my parents died, though I don’t know where I was going or who was driving me, because I can’t remember anyone else being in the car with me or how they got out when I didn’t... I think I’ve blocked a lot of the details out honestly. I just remember how scared I was, and how trapped I felt, and sometimes that all comes flooding back out when I least expect it.’

‘Oh my god, Kara, that’s horrific. I didn’t know…’

But of course, she had known.

Lena had done her research on National City’s resident Kryptonian years ago, and unlike her true identity, the story of how she had come to Earth was hardly a well kept secret. She knew that Supergirl’s pod had gone off route and ended up stuck in the phantom zone for years with the thirteen year old Kryptonian sealed inside it, entirely alone with the knowledge that her whole planet was dead and there was no one left to come and save her. She had just never fully made the connection that that had also happened to Kara – her Kara. Potstickers and trivia Kara. Sunshine smiles and long hugs and ‘I will always protect you’ Kara. She couldn’t bear to imagine her young and afraid, alone in the dark and unable to move from the small space she was trapped in. The story had always been awful, but when it was Kara’s, it was unimaginable.

‘I’m so, so sorry you went through that... And I also cannot believe that you told me a couple of months ago that you “didn’t really have any trauma”.’

Kara exhaled a soft laugh, in spite of the serious subject matter.

‘When you put it like that it does sound kind of ridiculous to claim. I guess I just try not to think about that time in my life too much. I was fostered not long after that, and they were brilliant with me. I got this new wonderful, loving family and a big sister who looked out for me even when we fought, and I was so lucky compared to so many other kids, especially ones who lose their parents at that age. It’s not easy finding a new family as a teenager, and I could so easily have ended up lost in the system, but I didn’t. I think part of me always feels like I can’t complain about any of the bad stuff because I know how good I had it in so many ways.’

‘Well I definitely think that you have every right to complain because I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been for you on top of losing your parents so young… But I also know what you mean. With the Luthors I grew up with immense privilege. I was raised in a mansion, got the best education money could buy, and physically I wanted for nothing. I thrived in a lot of ways, and now I’m a billionaire in my own right, so I never really felt the right to claim a tragic backstory. But… you know my birth mother died when I was four?’

‘Yes. She drowned, right?’

‘She did. I was there.’

‘What?’

‘When it happened. I was with her. It’s one of my earliest memories.’

Lena closed her eyes briefly while she gathered the courage to tell the next part. It was one of her darkest truths and she almost couldn’t bear to let the words out into the light of day, but Kara had shared her own painful past, and Lena wanted to reciprocate in kind no matter how much it might hurt. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued.

‘I saw her out in the water and I knew that something was wrong, but... I just watched. Silent. I could have screamed or run for help, I could have gone in and tried to rescue her myself, but I didn’t do any of it. I just stood there on the bank and watched my mother die, and ever since I have been trying to come to terms with what I did… I still see it in my dreams. Her swallowing water, struggling to breath, and me watching and doing nothing. What kind of child would do nothing while her mother drowned before her eyes?’

Lena’s eyes had flooded with unwelcome tears, and Kara pressed a wodge of paper napkins into her hand, holding onto her a few moments longer than strictly necessary.

‘That must have been so horrendous for you to witness, and I am so sorry that you went through that. But Lena, you were four. You were so, so little, you couldn’t have known what was going to happen.’

‘She was dying. How could I not have known?’

‘Because you were a baby. At four you barely grasp the concept of death as a thing, let alone that it could ever happen to your parent. Parents are invincible, permanent things to four year olds, there was no way you could have understood. I was thirteen when I lost my family, and I still felt like one day they’d turn up and tell me it had all been some huge mistake after all. What happened to you and your mother was an awful, horrible tragedy, but it wasn’t your fault, and the last thing your mom would have wanted was for you to spend the rest of your life blaming yourself for it.’

If she was being objective about it, Lena knew that Kara probably had a point. Developmental psychology might not be her field, but she knew enough about the maturation schedule of the human brain to understand that at age four she couldn’t have been at a stage where she could fully comprehend what had happened to her mother, let alone have the capability to form a rational plan to rescue her in the few minutes it had taken for her to die.

But Lena’s guilt over her mother’s death and the years she had borne the burden of her own inaction were too big and complicated a thing to simply set down, or even acknowledge aloud that maybe they hadn’t been entirely justified. So instead she confessed a related but less intimate truth – one that was the most she could manage to offer up in this moment.

‘I’ve been deathly afraid of drowning since then. Of course, with the Luthors fear was something you overcame as quickly and quietly as possible lest it be used against you later, so I was enrolled in private swimming lessons when I was five, and even ended up swimming competitively for a brief period before I was allowed to quit to focus on fencing... but I still hate deep water.’

‘So… is the fear of heights more a fear of depths? Because it reminds you of deep water?’

‘I think that’s where it started. I have this vivid memory of a family trip somewhere in the Luthor jet – I’m not sure where, but it can’t have been long after they took me in. Lex had made me this model airplane with a fully functioning propulsion system so he could teach me how a plane stays in the air, and I was excited to be flying for – not the first time, but the first time without being a newly orphaned child on her way to live with strangers. And I really did enjoy it at first. Lex was in his best big brother mode and didn’t even seem to mind when I accidentally broke his plane, he just distracted me by pointing out the view from the window. He talked about it like it was our own private play set that we could reach out and touch if we wanted, and I thought flying was going to be my new favourite thing. Only then the land ran out and there was nothing but blue water as far as I could see, and I started to worry that our plane might fall out of the air the way the model had, and if it did we would all end up down there in the water and I wouldn’t be able to swim back to shore, and I would drown just like my mother. Of course I knew exactly what that looked and sounded like by then, so I could imagine it only too vividly... I always hated flying after that, for all I’ve done so much of it. It isn’t just that though. As an adult I have had some… bad experiences with heights. I would have died several times over if Supergirl hadn’t been there to catch me.’

Lena paused, her eyes meeting Kara’s. She wanted to say thank you for all the times she had saved her without her realising who it was, and for making her feel so much safer flying than she ever had before, despite what seemed like near constant assassination attempts. But she couldn’t, so instead she settled for:

‘But not this time. This time you saved me.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far. You’d have got down fine by yourself eventually, I just helped a little.’

‘You did more than help a little. Seriously, Kara. Thank you. You’re my hero.’

Kara gave her the softest, sweetest smile then, and the moment between them felt so intensely pure and open that Lena found she had to break it or she would do something stupid.

Like cry.

Or lean over and kiss Kara.

She looked back down at her hot cocoa instead, its cream now dripping down the sides of the mug, and took a messy sip, trying to bury her swelling emotion in chocolatey escapism. She stayed like that for several slow, sugary swallows, until melted marshmallow was adhering to her lips and she felt she had regained enough composure to meet Kara’s eyes again without doing something she shouldn’t. She tried for lightness instead, as if they hadn’t just had the most intense, honest exchange of her recent past in the corner of a chintzy little coffee house.

‘So. I think it’s safe to say that I shouldn’t come with you next time you do this.’

Kara must have realised that Lena needed to be done with the deep conversation, and switched gears without missing a beat to match the joking tone of her comment.

‘Darn, really? I was going to suggest we try base jumping next week.’

Lena gave a theatrical shudder.

‘You know what? That sounds like it would be a great sister bonding opportunity. You should get Alex to go with you.’

‘Oh, that is a FANTASTIC idea.’

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #my fic #supercorp fanfic #kara x lena #supergirl fanfiction #multi chapter fic #Forgotten Not Forgiven #to the people who go over and leave me comments on AO3 you are awesome. Thank you 💗

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