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possibilistfanfiction · 3 months

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surgeons au word prompt - "breathless"

[early days, also if u like climbing this is a bonus fun one lol]

you’re already kind of gassed when beatrice gets to the gym, mostly hanging out on the mat with marco and watching jehan slip from a hold on a new v6 over and over again.

the first time you met beatrice, a few years ago, when she had just moved and was new to the gym, she had climbed a few lower grades and stretched and then quietly and calmly puzzled her way through a hard v7 that you’d been trying to send for days. she’s, like, totally sick and also really reserved, so it’s extra cool when she sits with you and asks about how your landscaping job is going or how your cat is enjoying the new perch you’d gotten, always remembering the most important parts of all the stupid shit you tell her.

you — and the rest of the guys, too — have also been trying to set her up for, like, two years now. in your opinion, you’d had the best shot with lucia, who you’d flirted with at the coffee shop next door until she laughed kindly and told you she wasn’t interested in men. which, totally cool, because obviously, no offense to jehan, but his sister kind of sucks, so of course that was going to be a bust with someone as cool as beatrice.

disappointingly, though, she and lucia had decided to just be friends, a huge bummer because beatrice would’ve had a hot girlfriend and danny would’ve owed you twenty bucks, but it’s cool. she climbs on her days off from work — it’s, like, fucking wild to actually know a surgeon — and blows you all out of the water with what seems like just a moderate amount of effort.

today, though — in addition to the free barbecue your boss had bought for lunch — fucking rocks, because someone very pretty walks in, holding hands with beatrice and smiling as they talk animatedly, using a cane with most steps but gesturing with it when something in their conversation is extra exciting, which makes beatrice smile a smile you’ve definitely never seen before. she had very briefly mentioned a few weeks ago that she had gone on a first date, blushing profusely when you had gotten excited and then flying up a few routes in quick succession, which had made you laugh. you hadn’t gotten anything else out of her, but you’re not offended because she mostly just listens and climbs, always willing to talk you through a route that you’re struggling with that she’s sent before.

‘hey beatrice,’ you greet, maybe too eagerly, when she stops by the cubbies to put her clogs and jacket away.

she smiles though — not the same one as earlier, but definitely kind still. ‘hey sam.’ she turns to the person next to her, who is grinning, bouncing on their toes a little even. ’ava, this is sam, one of my friends here. sam, this is ava.’

there’s no more explanation, and you’re momentarily a little worried that ava’s feelings might get hurt, but their happy expression doesn’t change a bit, and they shake your offered hand enthusiastically.

‘i’ve been asking bea for weeks if i could come watch her climb.’

beatrice, for her part, doesn’t change course from where she’s slipping on her climbing shoes, situating a beanie — typical in general for her, but not this pale blue she has on right now — after she’d taken her hoodie off. her t-shirt is also new, worn and faded from a school you know she definitely didn’t go to, and it’s kind of, like, the best day ever. your mom always reminds you that, sometimes, you come on a little too strong when you’re excited, so you take a deep breath and remind yourself to be totally normal.

‘bea’s amazing,’ you say, normal but honest too.

ava looks toward beatrice fondly. ‘she told me that she was competent, which, in beatrice translation, means totally fucking awesome.’

you laugh.

‘and,’ ava adds, following when beatrice nods once and then chalks her hands, keeping it all inside her bag so neatly — enviable, always — and then stands, silently, in front of a v3, ‘i imagine it’s, like, really hot.’

thankfully, beatrice doesn’t turn around, so she misses your absolute beaming smile at ava. theoretically you guess they could be friends, but you’ve never seen beatrice voluntarily touch another person in two years, so you think, for someone to get to hold beatrice’s hand, to make her happy like that, probably means they’re something.

beatrice glides through the route, smooth and patient, just warming up, and ava sits down on the edge of the mat next to you and sighs.’ i love being right.’

you laugh. ‘that’s just a warm up for her too.’ sure enough, beatrice stretches a bit and then climbs up and down two v1s in quick and easy succession. she’s calm and fast; even if you can sometimes send routes she’s, honestly, just a little too short for, you’re fairly certain you never make things look effortless.

‘are you gonna try climbing?’ you ask, because it’s easy and because ava’s only half paying attention to you anyway. jehan and marco start talking to beatrice about the route they’ve been stuck on, and she puts her hands on her hips and looks at it critically, ava watching the whole time.

‘nah,’ he says. ‘i’ve got a lot of hardware in my spine.’ he turns his back to you, and you see a few scars between his shoulder blades, up to the middle of his neck and going down below the hem of his tank too.

‘dude, gnarly,’ you say, which, like, whoops, maybe, but you’re super relived when ava just laughs.

‘keeps me up and walking most days, but i don’t think i can do that.’ she gestures over to where jehan has gotten stuck, once again, on an admittedly difficult crimp on the overhang.

‘well, to be fair,’ you say, as jehan walks over to you both in easy defeat, ‘neither can he.’

‘ha ha,’ he says, then smiles and sits down next to ava, offers his hand and introduces himself. ‘you’re here with beatrice?’

‘yeah,’ ava says, softening a little. ‘i’m her — we’re dating? i guess?’

jehan hums, taking his shoes off for a break and sitting back on his hands. ‘well, we’ve tried to set beatrice up with people for years now, and no one has really gotten past a second date, so i’d say you’re doing great.’

ava laughs, delighted. ‘we’ll circle back to all those failed dates later, because that could definitely be mostly your fault.’

‘hey—‘

‘but, i don’t know.’ ava shrugs. ‘i met her at work and things have just felt, like, really good. easy, even if she’s so quiet sometimes. makes my rambling even worse.’

you all laugh. ‘happens to the best of us,’ jehan says.

‘you’re a surgeon too?’

ava nods, a little pride straightening their spine, lifting their shoulders. ‘i’m still just an intern, but, yeah.’

‘that’s so cool,’ you say, and jehan nods in agreement. ‘jehan’s an engineer —‘

‘— very boring —‘

‘— but i barely graduated high school. i can’t imagine eight years after that, jesus christ.’

ava nods. ‘i have a phd, so even more than that.’

‘jesus christ.’

she just laughs. ‘bea was actually my boss, but i charmed her so much she admitted to the chief of surgery she “had feelings for me” and “needed me to switch to another resident’s service” so she could “pursue something.”’ the air quotes give you a moment of pause but then ava gets all soft. ‘which is awesome, because now we can actually date instead of just, like, yearn or whatever.’

‘ah, the yearning,’ marco says, joining you. ‘sounds gay.’

‘it’s about beatrice,’ you say, ’so, yeah, definitely.’

marco introduces themself and gives ava a high five. ‘are you, like, co-yearning now, or do we need to pester beatrice into committing?’

ava’s smile turns smug. ‘oh, she’s committed.’

the three of you whoop happily, which causes beatrice to turn toward all of you with a glare. it’s not intimidating, though, because her eyes are soft when she looks at ava, who shrugs with a smirk.

‘oh, you’re like, beatrice kryptonite, aren’t you?’ marco asks.

‘maybe she’ll finally get dinner with us tonight then,’ you say, excited about the prospect of beatrice actually coming with you to the brewery next door rather than saying next time again and again. ‘if you’re, like, not busy, obviously.’

ava gets a little distracted by beatrice carefully setting her hands on the wall, but he shakes his head. ‘no, we both have tomorrow off. but you owe me a round if i can convince her.’

‘oh, deal. easy.’

ava returns your fist bump but watches, a little breathless, as beatrice gets to the hold that’s been getting all three of you all afternoon. of course — of course — she breezes right through it, getting a foothold that you’d all missed too to send the route.

‘first try,’ jehan whines. ‘not fair, beatrice.’

she laughs from the top of the wall, then climbs halfway down and lands silently on her feet, walks over to you and sits on the edge of the mat.

‘have they been bothering you?’ she asks.

ava shakes her head, delighted. ‘definitely not. i’ve divulged all of your greatest secrets, though.’

beatrice rolls her eyes but she’s clearly happy, happier than you’ve ever seen her, for sure, comfortable and, when she gets up to do one of the hardest routes in the gym, a horrible v10, marco laughs. ’oh, now she’s just showing off,’ they say.

‘yeah,’ you agree when beatrice decides to just dyno the last hold, totally insane, ‘she never climbs like this just for us.’

‘well,’ ava says, ‘i am prettier, no offense.’

you all laugh, and you finally get the v6 with beatrice talking you through it, ava cheering you on. you climb for an hour longer — mostly, you watch beatrice climb and talk to your friends — until she gives up on a v8 and calls it.

she sits down next to all of you, the kind of tired only climbing makes you, and slips her shoes off.

‘bea did a six hour valve replacement today,’ ava says, looking at beatrice with overwhelming affection and easily identifiable pride, nothing hidden. ‘so this was extra crazy.’

‘fucking nuts.’ jehan bumps his knuckles with beatrice, who just looks down at her hands, dusting the remaining chalk off, shy all of a sudden, before she stands and pads over to the cubbies to put her hoodie on and gather her things.

‘she’s, like, our favorite,’ you say. ‘just so you know.’

ava nods, gentle. ‘yeah. she’s my favorite too. it’s good to meet you guys; she loves coming here, even if she won’t tell you.’

you shrug. ‘she shows us everything we get stuck on, so we know.’

beatrice walks back over to get her shoes and, presumably, also ava.

‘we were just talking about you,’ ava says with a grin, far, far too confident for beatrice to not be wary of.

‘hmm?’

‘yeah, how you and i are gonna join your friends for dinner next door.’

‘oh, i — uh, well, we have food at my house, and —‘

ava just bats her lashes and puts a hand on beatrice’s hip, runs her thumb under beatrice’s t-shirt for, like, one whole second, before beatrice gives in.

‘fine,’ she says, not sounding overly enthused but she’s relaxed and happy so it’s all a front anyway. and, this time, gentler: ‘fine.’

ava just kisses her cheek and then turns to the three of you and winks.

‘oh, you’re lethal,’ marco says while jehan laughs.

‘one round on me,’ you tell ava.

‘this was a bet?’ beatrice asks, as indignant as she can possibly be holding ava’s hand carefully and still blushing from being pecked on the cheek.

‘only a bet if there’s a chance for both sides to win,’ ava says, smug as hell, which makes you laugh. ‘but whatever, i want a burger.’

beatrice sighs. ‘well, then, let’s go, i suppose.’

ava ends up getting free rounds of beers for everyone, somehow charming the server, and beatrice just watches quietly, comfortable and pleased.

‘happy for you, dude,’ you say when marco and jehan are showing ava their favorite pinball machine.

beatrice smiles, genuine. ‘thank you, sam. i’m sorry if i —‘ she shakes her head — ‘i’m glad we get to climb together.’

‘you’re a dope climber,’ you say, ‘and a dope friend. i’m glad too. and ava’s fucking rad.’

beatrice laughs, looks over to where ava is cheering for herself, succeeding at one level of pinball. ‘yes, he is.’

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡#honestly this is mostly bc it's so fucking wild to watch Really Good Climbers just like #casually & calmly send the most insane shit #ava would charm an entire gym too god bless #& the climbing boys would LOVE bea like... they'd love her sm. they'd love ava sm

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aashiyancha · 2 months

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March of the Flowers Day 2: Gerbera (bright smiles)

I recently finished reading a dance scene in a fanfic and it made me really want to do one in my rf5 fancomic as well. So I started with drawing these 2 since I've already had some practice drawing them dancing before haha. Also played around with some suit designs as well.

#lm march of flowers #rune factory 5 #rune factory #rf5 #rf5 ares #rf5 reinhard #ares x reinhard #dance #aashi doodles #would you believe that they're wearing the same suit just in different color scheme #bea got so excited by the idea of a dance coming up and commisioned some suits for them to wear so they wouldn't just show up in uniform #but in her excitement she forgot that ares won't wear stuff properly if he feels constrained by it #she probably even imagined him looking like a prince with the navy blues and gold she had asked for on his suit #only for her face to fall when she sees him and then remembers that though he could look very regal its just not him haha #ahhh if i did this scene where would I place it....#given that rei put a pink flower on ares maybe it'll be a new year's dance #cuz spring 1 haha

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daisychainsandbowties · 8 months

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forever sad we'll never get to see beatrice's face in those moments right after the kiss. i'm talking right before they break apart and then immediately after while they're still resting their foreheads together. like was she crying too? did she open her eyes first? did she look peaceful or devastated?

i can never escape from the fact that beatrice has just, in the same breath, found faith in the mouth of a girl and watched that same holy thing slip through her hands.

she really is both orpheus and eurydice in that moment. she is being asked - kissed into compliance, implored with every sacred inch of this girl she loves - to walk out of hell and she is the ghost left on the threshold of death, watching her lover erupt into light.

there’s so much grace in ava in that moment, so much bravey because i think if i were going to my death and there was a hand i could hold on the way to it… i’d cling to that.

but ava is still so intent on not being a burden to anyone. it breaks my heart, watching her melt into light and how her face goes from this saintlike thing, full of soft longing, to a mask of bravery. a funeral dirge for a heartbeat.

she’s so brave and you can see in that shot; the cross of light on her shoulders. you see beatrice standing there and i think she knows then that her hands are not overfull with ava; they are just empty without her.

she’s being asked to become orpheus. and no, ava won’t be behind her - trapped at the gates in the mouth of the monster, but she wants her to turn, and walk, and let her go. we know how well beatrice has rehearsed for this, but from the moment she clings to the bars in the museum, watching ava drop like a star, we know that it doesn’t matter how well she understands the steps to this dance of leaving; she wants ava to teach her something new.

i talk all the time about beatrice and touch but i think another aspect of her learning to reach out is the fact that she also learns how to not let go.

because i think beatrice has been let go very often in her life. and she’s had to let go of others in return. and then she encounters something that she can’t surrender. a blow she cannot turn the other cheek to accept.

i’m always captivated by how she holds ava when they find out that they’ve lost mary - it’s the first hint we get that maybe this story is about refusing to let go. it’s about the hunger (ava cramming croissants into her mouth, beatrice wanting her hands to be filled, her water to wine) and beatrice learning to fight not for a cause, which is easy, but for herself. and she holds ava and then we DO see her face and it’s not yet resolve but it is the first sign that she won’t let ava go, the “you are my best friend, and i cannot watch you die.”

and ava tries to say “okay then, don’t look.” she offers beatrice the chance to walk out of hell, to never look back, but of couse she does. that’s just how the story goes.

#warrior nun #avatrice #thinking of that mary oliver poem ‘in blackwater woods’ and ‘to love what is mortal…#‘to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends in it; and when the time comes #to let it go’#i think there’s some significance to not seeing bea face here #it’s like… she is not orpheus she is eurydice and so the looking would make her vanish #again this makes no sense but aaaahhhh they make me insane #anon

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this-blog-needs-a-new-name · 1 year

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AAAAAHHHHHH!!!! 😍

#THATS SO FKN CUTE!!#warrior nun #warrior nun season 2 #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #but true #what else would Ava ask if Bea cave to whatever next is cold #lol #that ava is such a little brat though #artist on twitter #you all amazing ppl

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severedegg · 8 months

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mmmgh julie... (sleepy but positive)

#i must eeper now i can draw wally tomorrow #welcome home #wh #welcome home fanart #julie joyful #uhhhhh idk how to tag uhm... julies siblings #i thought the were cute so i wanted to draw them #i looked back and their names are 'bea' 'franny' and 'jonesy'#probably would redraw their outfits to be less similar but i wanted to draw them floating/falling like julie #at the time of drawing them i did not know their names and only speculated that they are siblings but reading back i see they are #my art #remind me to not stay up due to getting hyperfixed on drawing

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thenothlng · 9 months

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in theatres um......... never

#w101 #wizard101 #lemuria spoilers #⭐️ : bea #🌌 : dasein #🎨 : my art #OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH my god im so happy i finished this lol #OH AND IF ANYONE WANTS TO DO THE ID FOR THIS POST PLS DO BY ALL MEANS im bad at. describing. visuals. so if anyone wants to please do #i literally started this last night at like. 3 am teehee *twitches at you*#i would watch this noir detective romance and im sure it would make me cry at LEAST 2 time #oooo my god im so normal about this :3 thumb up #the text was pissing me off... it looks ugly... no it doesnt ^_^

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portraitdelajeunefilleenfeu · 1 year

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bts of KTY shooting the last scene of season 2, filmed by alba ❤️

#kristina tonteri young #alba baptista #warrior nun #sister beatrice #(becoming just ‘beatrice’)#alba and kristina #warrior nun bts #warrior nun s2 #i love how k sticks her tongue out at her as she walks by #alba’s standing on the steps by that statue thing but you can hear her little giggle at the very end and it is very clear it’s her #anyway.. this is just more ammo for my theory that bea wasn’t leaving to just ‘live her life’ she was leaving to go be w ava #WHO IS VERY NEAR BY BECAUSE THE SWORD WAS GLOWING #AND WHY THE HELL WOULD ALBA EVEN BE THERE IF SHE WASN’T SHOOTING ANYTHING???#i’m telling you.. they filmed ava’s return already.#idk if they’ll use it or not but they filmed it #and i have never believed that bea would just go off & not spend every single waking minute for the rest of her life trying to get ava back #WHY WAS SHE SMILING SO MUCH WHILE SHE WAS LEAVING???#…. BECAUSE SHE WAS GOING TO BE WITH HER LOVE THAT’S WHY.#warrior nun thoughts #1013

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bumblingbabooshka · 6 months

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Chakotay being a person who (while of course being willing to follow orders to a point) ultimately puts what's morally right and wrong in his eyes over Starfleet protocol while Tuvok is shown to be a person who will follow Starfleet protocol (and more accurately Janeway's word) over what he personally thinks is right is something that could have been so interesting if the three of them were actually shown as a triumvirate instead of it usually being Janeway-Chakotay and even then mostly just Janeway.

It would be an opportunity to explore more about the Maquis v Starfleet dynamic, about how Chakotay & Janeway's different leadership styles work and don't work with this new crew and with different people, to interrogate what exactly Voyager should look like - to incorporate more leniency and Maquis tactics into its operation so that they really do become a blended ship instead of the Maquis simply becoming subsumed into Starfleet. It'd also give more opportunities to let all three characters shine and introduce more moral quandaries that they can have differing ideas about and how does that affect them? At one point Tuvok is willing to go against Janeway's orders because she wants to do something but can't due to Starfleet protocol. In another episode he also follows Janeway's orders to assist in killing an entire ship of people despite that being against both Starfleet protocol and certain moral standards because she feels strongly that they should. He protests this but once she rebukes him he doesn't object again or attempt to stop her (like Chakotay - though they both know at that point that she's crossing lines). This sort of implies to me that he's much more loyal to Janeway herself than he is to Starfleet as a concept. Meanwhile Janeway is shown to be staunchly and strictly Starfleet - adopting the code AS her moral compass a lot of the time. She sometimes has to go off-script due to the nature of their situation but most of her decisions are made depending on how Starfleet would feel about it. If she wants to do something but Starfleet would disagree, she rarely if ever questions Starfleet protocol and instead will go with what it says is best even if it's painful on a personal level. She also tells Tuvok in the episode aforementioned that he is "Her advisor, her moral compass" and having a moral compass/advisor that's either a bunch of rules written by the space government or a person who is mostly just going to agree with you no matter what they actually think and not challenge you if you rebuke them isn't the best idea. Enter Chakotay. Chakotay's willingness to disagree with Janeway and not back down is something I wish had been shown more. When he says "I don't care about logs or reports or whatever - I care about person to person shit. I care about what's right and what you're doing is wrong." it's something that could be so interesting and so necessary when contrasted with the other two. A good example is of course 'Equinox' but also 'Manuevers' where he goes off against literally everyone's orders and friendly advice because he feels responsible. And that's important - he's doing it because he feels responsible. That's different from Tuvok (who doesn't feel) and Janeway (who would most likely try to find comfort in protocol) - because Chakotay feels he's responsible and that he needs to protect the crew since he (in his eyes) is the one who put them in danger. He's a person who's shown to be willing to go against everything anyone says in order to do what he feels is right if the wrong is too great to allow. Voyager if these three were actually allowed to argue and be equals and figure out how to work together as sort of a microcosm of how this new blended crew is going to be able to fight and work and band together.

#st voyager #Chakotay #Janeway #Tuvok #bea actually wrote a long rambling post instead of rambling in the tags of a deceptively short post???? My God.....#Tuvok is NOT a guy who's gonna ask the hard questions...Chakotay IS!!!#I can see how Tuvok was more effective as an advisor in the alpha quadrant - I see it my mind's eye #All he would have to do really is prod at Janeway and remind her of protocol or tell a brief story and she'd be like -sigh- you always know #what to say old friend <3 but in the DELTA quadrant????#He's literally just as out of his depth as Janeway is and obviously becoming less preoccupied with actual protocol and more loyal #to her herself <- Another interesting concept!! & understandable. What's the logic (one might ask) of following Starfleet protocol #to the letter? Starfleet isn't around. I honestly don't think Tuvok would be following it if Janeway didn't put so much stock in it.#BUT Janeway's around. (His friend) The Captain's around so he'll follow HER and if SHE'S following Starfleet then he will.

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possibilistfanfiction · 8 months

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nightmare for the one word prompts

[a little sad but mostly very silly, butch bea universe]

'i really don't have to go today,' beatrice says, kissing your forehead before settling down next to you on the couch. you know she means it: beatrice means everything she says, first of all, and you have grown — despite your brain's best efforts to steer you otherwise — to trust her when she offers care. you take her in: her fresh haircut that she gets done every month now, usually neatly parted on the top, messy from sleep; her tender wrists; the soft skin of her thighs; the soft sweater you bought her last christmas, sleeves pulled down over her hands, which are always cold.

you sigh. you had had nightmares — more than one, which is rare this many years later, after the worst of it — and woken up with scars that you don't think about too often, or at least with too much pain or sorrow anymore, aching all over your body. your legs had been pins and needles — worse, you've discovered, than feeling nothing some days — and your spine had ached, the halo feeling your sorrow, sharing in it. beatrice had skipped her typical surf session this morning, partially because she'd woken up with you both times last night, and partially because she's worried. she doesn't try to hide it anymore, her concern written all over her gentle face, in her sweet eyes, her soft hands. you find it nestled along all the small things she did for you in the past two hours: bringing you pain meds along with an easy breakfast of scrambled eggs and your favorite rosemary sourdough toast, doing a few snuffles with korra's morning unkibble so she's calm and ready to work today for whatever you need, helping you, after your glum nod, transfer from bed to your chair. you twist the wedding band around on your finger, focus on the few freckles that sit on the tops of her hands because of her time in the sun. your life is real, you remind yourself. your time on the other side, every endless day you spent in hell, was worth it for this, for beatrice quietly and patiently sitting next to you, soft and always becoming more herself; for your family visiting at the end of the week, camila begging to go to universal studios, lilith grumbling but giving in; for the respect people owe you now, and ready give; for your dog and your bar and the edibles you share with beatrice some nights, easy with laughter, and the farofa you feel confident in making for dinner when your friends come over, a warm offering.

'no,' you decide on, firmly, and you know beatrice will trust you. 'we should go. it'll be fun.'

'it will be fun,' she says, the same gleam in her eye you remember from years ago when she was ready to "maim or kill" (lilith's words) anyone who was in the way of her and the mission, especially once you became involved.

'you remember this is, like, your weekly tennis match for fun, right?'

'of course, ava.'

the way she cracks her knuckles tells you that the for fun is lost on her for the most part. it's endlessly amusing to you, though, and quite harmless — although maybe not to her opponent's pride — so you don't bother to argue any further. 'okay, well, i think angela and ruth wanted to have lunch anyway today after their jazzercise class, so we can watch you play.'

'no catcalling.'

you pout. 'you're my wife.'

'not from you, not from ruth or angela.'

'they're old, bea. let them have some fun.'

'at my expense? no thank you. i need to focus while i compete.'

she's already sitting up straighter, eyes lively. she's playing david today, you think, if you remember the club's "adult intermediate to advanced tennis league" rotation correctly. he's a decent player, and their head to head record is relatively even. he's also a bit of an asshole, and a venture capitalist, so it stands to reason beatrice despises him.

'fine.' you squeeze her hand. 'but can you change your shirt between sets?'

'ava.'

'gratuitously towel off or something at least.'

'ava.'

'whatever,' you say. 'i'm wearing a bikini. at least ruth and angela will appreciate it.'

'oh, i'll appreciate it,' she says, and then laughs softly and leans over to kiss you.

everything about beatrice, you decided years ago, is endearing. can she kill a man in, like, one second using just her hand? yes, sure, but you've seen her very skillfully practice her forms every morning for years, barring injury, and frown when anything is off, even by a breath. most people find her precision in all things kind of terrifying, but you've learned that some of it is a trauma response — from her childhood, from being a soldier, from losing you — and some of it is really just how she is. her books sorted exactly how she wants them — by genre, subgenre, and then author's last name — on the bookshelf; the meticulously labeled spices in your pantry, always in both their language of origin and english; her surfboards waxed perfectly and neatly stored in the small shed in your yard. everything about her precision is endearing because you understand her and you love her, and maybe the most endearing, or at least you think some days, is the way she treats rec league club tennis.

no matter how many times you've jokingly reminded her that your club isn't wimbeldon, she likes to wear all white little outfits; men's shorts and, your favorite, a neat polo. in the summer, she favors tanks, which you are not complaining about. she has three racquets and a very impressive bag like all the pros carry onto the court, special towels, pristine sneakers, and, when you're most amused, a wristband she very sincerely wipes her sweaty forehead on. since you'd met she'd loved watching tennis, and she'd taught you — as patiently as she has always taught you anything — the rules, her favorite players (not that it was, like, hard to think serena williams was the best athlete ever), common terms to know. you'd gone out with her a few times to the courts and she'd shown you proper form; you'd found out, eventually from her, that her dream as a little kid was to be a tennis pro, which was so charming and a little unexpected. you had thought she would've wanted to be some kind of scientist, maybe a really good lawyer, but her brother had dug out some pictures of little beatrice in her tennis getup, her expression so, so serious for a nine year old, and you'd fallen in love all over again.

she listens to her "pump-up music" — a lot of pop, surprisingly — as she drives you both to the club, focused already in her tennis outfit, complete with a quarterzip warmup top and everything. you're endlessly amused by her, in a way that most people are too intimidated to be, and you think it's good for her, to feel human, to not be taken so seriously when she should get to just enjoy things. your pain meds are helping by the time you get to the club, the pins and needles down your legs leveling out, the halo shaking off some of its deep sorrow, the memories of torture and abject aloneness that sometimes show up in your dreams. today is bright and sunny, the bluest sky, and your friends wave to you once you get out to the tables near the tennis courts. beatrice says a quick hello and then bustles off to start her very precise warm up routine, and you all wait until she's out of earshot to share a fond laugh.

'david today?'

'i swear she was rewatching coco and iga's last match yesterday to prepare.'

ruth pats your hand and angela orders a charcuterie for the table, gets prosecco for ruth and herself and — they both know you well enough by now that your chair usually means you've had to take medication, which you don't mix with alcohol — a cranberry soda for you, your favorite.

david shows up a few minutes later as you're gossiping, angela gasping at ruth's latest escapades with her new boyfriend while you laugh delightedly. he's the kind of muscular dude that likes to run along the beach shirtless because he thinks it's impressive but really it just looks ridiculous, the kind of dude that would give unwanted pointers in the gym. you don't have a disdain for him like beatrice does, because he's never done anything abhorrent to you personally, but when you see her steely gaze as he goes to his bench on the court, you get it. and, also, it's hot, so, like, you shoot a quick thanks to david and his douchey backwards cap for that.

things go just about as you'd expected: beatrice plays with the amount of passion you'd see in a wimbeldon final, and angela and ruth relentlessly whistle and cheer and boo. the charcuterie has a new truffle havarti you're all in love with, and the bottle of prosecco gets split happily while you watch. it's a fairly even match — david hits harder than beatrice but is slower and definitely stupider — and she wins the first set 6 games to 4. she gets mad at him for serving too slowly, and they briefly have an argument over whether or not one of his backhands was in. it's all deeply ridiculous for an afternoon at in an amateur club league, but beatrice and her overhand serves get you every single time.

she's down a break in the second set when she hits a drop shot that has david falling over his own feet, and you know it's over then. the second bea realizes someone is truly out of sorts, in any scenario, she's already won.

they shake hands after the match is over, beatrice taking the second set much quicker than the first, and then she makes her way over to your table and sits, very satisfied, in the chair next to you, a towel around her neck.

'my champion,' you say, and she rolls her eyes, accepting the congratulatory beer angela had already ordered for her as the last game was winding down with a thankful nod.

'great match, beatrice,' ruth says, half-sincere, half-teasing, but beatrice smiles anyway. sometimes, things are not good; sometimes, on the worst days, even now, even still, even with all this love, you still remember what it was like to suffer alone — without feeling, with too much feeling — for so much of your life. but beatrice slips into her quarterzip next to you and you smell sweat and laundry detergent and the pomade she puts in her hair, you feel the sun warming along your back and you hear the small group of children starting their lesson, laughing brightly. beatrice holds your hand and you'll nap later; you'll order takeout from your favorite thai place and watch the sunset on your patio; you'll fall asleep in her arms. you'll wake up and do it all over again — the loneliness, the pain, the longing — just for this.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡#this is mostly bc a) i’ve been meaning to write this for like six months lmao it’s so funny #b) i’ve been watching the us open go coco obviously #c) whew ava deserves a silly happy life!!!! thinking abt him always #also d) bea when faced w normal competitive scenarios would be so insane #just absolutely batshit crazy i love her

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